Did anyone else know Chris Pozzi's a model?

Hoping to fit this post into my spring break agenda, I decided to cut my evening nap short. It's okay though, I took a longer post-lunch nap than usual so I'll be fine. Anywho, Chris is on this random assortment of pictures. I was looking at a friend's picture on a list of 18 Portland Private High School pictures, and when I browsed the others, he was #1.

My spring break's been kinda slow, but at least I'm learning new things. For example, did you know that dreams get really strange after 14 hours of sleep for four nights in a row? I was in my suite in Antarctica with some sex goddess practicing yoga next to my bed when the President called me asking me if I'd seen his puppy. I defy somebody to name the reference. Callate Quen.

Whoever built a platform between platforms 9 and 10 must have been high

I have now lost all faith in Harry Potter. Whoever thought that a platform could exist there is a total idiot. I'll load a picture eventually, but i'm lazy... But King's Cross is in a horrible area of London, there are, or at least used to be drugs and prostitutes everywhere. I actually didn't see much of this, just one really bad transvestite. Anyway, platforms 9 and 10 are off on the side of the station, in a very not-busy part of the station, where anybody would notice hundreds of kids passing through a solid wall. Plus, there is a cart in the way prohibiting anyone from just walking through. I did however, attempt to gain access to the platform by running head first into the wall, but failed and split my head open. BTW, I'm not joking, I really did split my head open. More on this later. Other HP-related news: Cannon Athletic Club is on Chudleigh (Chudley) St. and Fawkes is the name of a gunpowder export who ploted to overthrow the British government. Dublin was... Dublalicious. Pretty touristy. Pretty much the only shops that were open downtown were Irish gift shops... and PUBS. Hellua pubs. Basically non-stop pubbage. The worst part of Ireland was the 6:45 flight after St. Paddy's. That sucked. At least the hotel was nice. Much better than this shit-hole I'm stuck in in London. We have 4 people in a 2 person room. And the hotel is so cheap that it advertises the basic amendaties that it cuts to save money. Plus, the hotel is near King's Cross, which, as I said, is shitty. Plus, London is Hellua expensive. The rugby was fun. It is really nice to play again. We lost by a ton, though. It was bad. We lost to old men, it was kinda embarassing. I started to play well again about 10 minutes into the second game. I had three tackles in a row. It was great. Tackle, up, tackle, etc. I got up for the fourth tackle, hit heads with somebody else trying to tackle him. I'm down for about a second, but get up and try to ruck. I see blood dripping down everywhere, but I figured it was just my nose, which had been bleeding since the first play. As usual, I just shoved grass up there, and kept playing. Well, it turned out that I had split my head knocking heads, and was bleeding quite profusely. Some guy from the other team took me and the other guy, who got a concussion to the hospital, where I got 3 stitches. Luckily, health care is free in England. I heart Socialism. That was yesterday. Today, went on the London tour. Took one of those sight-seeing buses, then toured Tower of London. That was about it. Won't see any more than that, though, we leave for Amsterdam tomorrow.
I'm back in Ithaca now, I wrote that earlier part before and am too lazy to change it. My friend told me to tell people that I split my head open trying to run into platform 9 3/4, so that's why I said that... Anyway, Amsterdam. Uh.... Amsterdam was fun. Went to the Van Gogh mueseum, which also had a exhibit with Rembrandt and some Italian, Cavarggio or something. Then we went to this really cheap free market thing, which is a bunch of cheap clothing and stolen shit. And fries with mayonasie. Then the Anne Frank house, which was really creepy and really depressing. It makes her diary so much more powerful being in the place where she wrote it. We then decided to relieve this tension by going to the Red Light district, which was really close by. Pretty much what you'd expect from a Red Light district, lots of porn stores, strip joints, and prostitutes in the windows of the stores in the alleys. Yay prostitutes. Anyway, that was about all. We only spent 1 full day in Amsterdam, so we didn't get much time to see everything. Bad thing about the hotel, though. The room was pretty much the size of the 4 beds that were in the room, so It was pretty packed. Also, my room was the only one with a balcony, so all the potheads smoked on the balcony all night, causing the room to smell very strongly of pot. I was kinda suprised we didn't get stopped at the airport for just reeking of the stuff, but we made it, and now I have to wash the smell of weed out of all my clothes. I also have to get the stitches removed from my head today, and some homework, but if I think of anything else that happened and I neglected to mention, I'll post a comment.

Okay, So Tell Me If This Creeps You Out (As We All Wait Impatiently For Doug's Tales Of European Debauchery)

At the radio station, we don't get a ton of calls. In fact, at least a quarter of them are from the same dozen or so folks. Consequently, I haven't been concerned as I have gotten at least one call every Thursday morning from the same guy. Sure, it was a little weird when he called and asked me to repeat a story on scholarships for gay students, which we proceeded to discuss, with the conversation somehow turning to me answering questions about the guy who had the slot last semester (who I don't know.) But most of the regulars are pretty eccentric and this was tame compared to what regulars like Truck Driver Rick, Donna the cat lady, or Captain Marvel talk about. However, today he called to talk about a joke I had made on my rock show two weeks ago, and ask me about my grades. He called back ten minutes later and told me he had an extra ticket to the Glee Club Spring concert tomorrow and asked if I wanted to go. Now ordinarily I don't date older men, but a couple of my best friends here, one being my future roommate, are in Glee Club and I hadn't gotten a ticket before they sold out. And you guys know how devoted a friend I am. I mean, who else would donate a testicle to Ken? So I said sure. We talked about where to meet and he asked what color my hair was. I told him I was 5'11 and pretty goofy looking. He said, and I quote: "Oh, a tall boy, very good." Then after a second he asked me how goofy looking. I told him fairly goofy, but not a circus freak (agree/disagree?). Anyway, that tall boy thing seemed sort of strange. I tell ya, there's nothing nicer than getting calls from people who really like what you're playing, but sometimes I wish we didn't have a telephone in the studio. Especially when Captain Marvel gets drunk. Really I have no reason to be posting. I guess you guys could help me: what should I wear?

{He called a third time to confirm}

Spring Break '06: The Revenge of Sally Ann Furnace

Well, I just got back to Brew City after what amounted to a whirlwind 10-day tour of the East Coast by my buddy chum ol-pal Kate Sko(czalek). Emphasis on the whirlwind. We covered at least 800 miles, including the Appalacian mountains, Washington DC, Virginia, Delaware, New Jersey, and a whoooole lotta Philly. As I speak Kate is currently sleeping somewhere. I'm not sure. I should probably go find her at some point and poke her with things, because that is my job here in Cobeen. Along the way I met some crazy people, some not-so-crazy people, and some absoultely batshit insane people. And Nancy Tsang. Anyway, because you busy college people enjoy pretty pictures instead of words:


Kate Sko and some juice in the airport, shortly before she was patted down by a very burly woman because she lost her photo ID.


Kate's block in the Mayfair neighborhood of Philadelphia. A whole bunch of little identical row homes made up every block. Kate's boyfriend/fiancee lives a block up.


Kate's grandpa's Christmas tree farm. He's a retired civil engineer and one of his daughters is also a civil, so we talked shop (well, granpa was kinda sleepy/on painkillers for a broken sternum, so we just kinda sat around with him).


Kate's in the Army. I made her promise me that she wouldn't make me go back to Arlington.


A really pretty sunset behind the Washington Monument in DC.


The White House, complete with some security dude looking at us.


Me taking a picture of Kate taking a picture of someone taking a picture (not pictured). We were bored?


This one's called: "IT WAS 80 DEGREES OUT YESTERDAY WHY ARE WE WEARING SWEATERS *confused*."


NANCY TSANG, with whom I watched "V for Vendetta" a second time. In two nights. Ah good times.


We stole chalk. Rebels.


Highlights not pictured above:

-Driving to the Jersey shore at 3 AM to watch the sun rise. (IT WAS COLD. But pretty. No pics becasue I left my camera in the car and was too busy spooning for warmth to go run back.)
-Tastycakes!
-Almost but not quite stealing food from the UPenn business school with Nancy.
-Bubble tea place!
-Watching Dan's video of "that time we got bored, happed to know someone who had some dynamite, and blew up Kate's TV"
-Getting lost in the foothills of the Appalacians for two hours after eating at someplace called "Snuzzle's" on Sally Ann Furnace Road. BEST ROAD NAME EVER. However, we still do not know how it intersected with itself and then became another road entirely.
-Hanging out at Chris's house. The Engmans fed us well.
-Figuring out just what the hell a Wawa is.
-5 mile run around some big lake in Virginia.
-The 100-mph return from DC in post rush-hour traffic. ("I SEE A HOLE!" "ohmygodi'mgonnadiecrazyeastcoastdrivers")
-Matt just kind of showing up one day. He's from Detroit. Go figure.

And a whole bunch of other stories that are either bizzare, incriminating, hilarious, or all three. Mostly all three. But that's my spring break in a nutshell. I have more pictures which will wind up places. For now I must figure out what my chemlab is all about and try to fix my iPod, which apparently hates airplanes or me or both... yeee-haaaa!