At the weekly college newspaper where Father Scott sowed his oats, his fine replacement atop the editorial feeding chain, humor writer Tom Flanagan, has an amusing story regarding a souvenir from his time in Africa that proved to be more than he expected.
Homecoming festivities at Bates College
After bringing home a discarded table that didn’t fit in a friend’s suitcase, Tom discovered months after returning home that the table was infested with African termites.
This was a major concern. We’ve all found spiders, ants and other domestic bugs in our rooms before, and even those are always a little disconcerting. But bugs from Africa? I was terrified. It brought back memories of my African safari, during which a guide told me that however small or seemingly harmless any animal in Africa may be, it can probably whoop my ass. Kicking, scratching, stomping, stinging, spitting, biting, poisoning, trampling, ramming: no matter what animal you’re looking at, it can hurt you somehow. I still like my chances against a single termite, but a whole colony? If they can eat wood, how easy would it be for them to dig into human skin? Try Googling an image of a termite; their chompers are diesel. My only solace was that they would hopefully eat all of the wood in my room before they felt the need to turn their attention to me, so our inevitable standoff would be a good ways off.
Father Scott recommends Tom as regular reading — the kid is always funny. Plus, for those of us who recently left academia, or, like Pax Arcana, are now sitting in our creaky rocking chairs longing for the days (Ed Note: There were days? I only remember nights), his column is always a good reminder of the absurdities of collegiate life.
Filed under college, travel
Do you have a lot of money and are an idiot? Does your daughter MiKayley totally want to break into the high-flying world of glossy magazine publishing? Do you think she’d want to fetch lattes for editorial assistants?
Then boy do we have the
scam job for you.
Harper’s Bazaar, which is like a news magazine for people who think purses are news, is auctioning off a chance to be an intern.
Here’s the offer:
This Package includes: A One month internship with renowned fashion magazine, Harper’s Bazaar.
Current and stylish, Harper’s Bazaar magazine provides some of the best comprehensive coverage of the fashion world today. By showing the latest from the catwalks worldwide, the magazine has become an indispensable source of information about beauty, health, fitness, finance, home decoration, travel, entertainment and art for every woman, while the emphasis is still on fashion. Clothes, bags, shoes, jewelry and watches from the leading designers, fashion tips from the stars, must-haves and great finds- it’s all inside! Inspiring and celebrating the feminine style since 1867, Harper’s Bazaar is now a true fashion authority for which designers as well as regular women can look up to. This is a fabulous opportunity!
Yay! Harper’s Bazaar is so powerful it has reverse engineered both communism and dignity to come up with this offer!
The bid is currently up to $700.
Amazing One Month Internship with Harper’s Bazaar Magazine [Charity Buzz]
We know, we know, we said we’d never read another word by the idiotic Gregg Easterbrook. But after the Pats’ 52-7 pasting of the Redskins, we couldn’t resist dropping in for a look at TMQ’s latest tantrum.
Here’s a portion of the hissy fit:
“With 13 minutes remaining, the Patriots led 38-0, yet Brady not only was still on the field but was in the shotgun and still throwing deep. With 12 minutes to play, New England jumped offsides on third-and-2; Brady visibly yelled “f—!” in angry disgust. With his team ahead 38-0! At 11 minutes remaining, Belichick went for it on fourth-and-1, frantically trying to humiliate genteel Joe Gibbs by running up the score. When Brady threw to Wes Welker for yet another touchdown, he celebrated wildly afterward. OK, it’s unfair to say Brady smirks. But a true sportsman, or anyone with dignity, would have felt embarrassed about celebrating wildly at 45-0 in the fourth quarter. Matt Cassel came in at quarterback, and immediately began throwing from the shotgun. Belichick went for it on fourth-and-2 with a 45-point lead, and soon the Patriots were celebrating wildly when Cassel ran for a TD himself.”
Go back to coaching middle school flag football, crybaby. It’s funny how we didn’t hear any puling whines about running up the score from the Reskins or Joe Gibbs, you fatuous, toffee-nosed, malodorous bore.
– Perry Ellis
Filed under Patriots, sports
The view from Pax Arcana’s ludicrously oversized suite at the Rio includes the Palms Hotel, a whole buttload of casino construction projects, and one giant billboard featuring a toothy buttplug named Danny Gans.
Who the F is Danny Gans?
We looked it up, using the World Wide Webs, and discovered that Danny Gans bills himself as an impressionist/comedian/singer of badly overwrought religious soft rock.
Who’s got a thumb, a billboard, and a face that’s bound to get Paxed in the fucking grill? This guy
And he calls himself the Las Vegas “Entertainer of the Year.” Which year is unspecified, but Pax Arcana believes it to be 2029, when the dead finally triumph over the living and Danny Gans is the last man on earth.
We would direct you to his Web site, where his special brand of hopelessly outdated “comedy” and bad impressions made us want to staple our feet to our faces, but it’s just too dangerous. We’ve lost too many men already.
Time to check in with the rest of the blog cartel.
Looks like Lucy the Blog is back on board after a month of moping around the Lowell penthouse for a few months. Rumor has it his right hand threatened to unionize if he didn’t cool it with the Cinemax, so Lucy came back with an uproariously self-pitying post about how Red Sox fans are retards. As if they didn’t know.
Perk is a Beast is back to his teasing ways, titillating our tits with the promise of another blockbuster “get” with some guy who plays on the Celtics who may or may not bear the mark of the beast.
We’re still stuck in convention hell with very little Internet access. We’re no fun right now, anyway.
Deadspin‘s got a handful of links of commentary regarding Alex Rodriguez’s tactless announcement of his impending free agency during the last night’s final game of the World Series.
I understand baseball is a business and that A-Rod is, in terms of talent, the best player in the game. But at some point, somebody needs to have some sense of morality, or at least understand when something isn’t in good taste (as it happened I wanted to cry out “bad form” like the kid in Hook). Sure, it was a strong strategy (Joe Buck and Tim McCarver jumped on this like A-Rod on a Canadian she-male hooker), but it turned the focus from a dominating performance by the best team in baseball in a close game to whether this douchebag will make $35 million a year for the next 10 years, or just $30 million.
Nice swing, dick
Theo, John Henry, et al: Set a precedent. Don’t even negotiate with him. Overpay Mike Lowell–World Series MVP, class act, fan favorite–just like you did with Tek a few years ago, because he means more than his (already excellent) production. He’s not selfish like Pedro, or self-aggrandizing like Johnny Damon. He’s a great player with great character whose skills should diminish terribly over the course of his mid-30s. And most importantly, he’s not a guy who turns every team he plays for, and every fanbase who roots for him, starkly against him even as he’s putting up MVP numbers.
“What do you want us to do, kick a field goal?”
– Bill Belichick, answering a question about his decisions to go for it on fourth down with the Patriots leading the Redskins by 38-0 and 45-0 in Sunday’s 52-7 shellacking of Washington.
We’ve said it before: Don’t make them angry. You won’t like it when they’re angry.
Filed under Patriots, sports
But in other news, Pax Arcana is officially ready to predict that the Boston Red Sox will win the 2007 World Series. You heard it here first.
With Pax winging his way west and Father Scott locked in his office with a pair of headphones and Ryan Adams’ latest, it falls to Perry Ellis to get more than one halfway-decent post up today. So here goes.
We came across this in Salon today, about organic-slow-food poster girl Alice Waters. She’d have us eating nothing but organic greens and raw millet prepared by hand in an antiquated Japanese mortar and pestle, according to Salon‘s Farhad Manjoo (what we’d give for a byline like that!):
“Alice Waters doesn’t want you to use store-bought
stock, or mayonnaise from a jar, anything frozen Boy, do I love celery!
(even peas!), or salad that comes in a bag. She would rather you stay away from nearly every kitchen appliance, including a blender — a food mill or a Japanese mortar and pestle called a suribachi is wholly preferable.”
Say what? No cheap pork from Costco? No gigantic digital crock pot (you rule, Imbesi)? No smoker? You must be joking. We’re making ribs tomorrow, ferchrissakes!
But Manjoo’s interview with Waters reveals her to be focused on a popular topic around these parts: where we get our food. Continue reading
Don’t look for a lot of gay Dumbledore goodness today, as Pax Arcana is busy Jet Bluing his way to Las Vegas. The one in Nevada.
For th next week, we should be able to update from our penthouse suite at the Rio Hotel and Casino (Penn and Teller! Whoo!), but we’re hoping Perry Ellis and Father Scott are feeling the strong tide of blogorrhea coming on.
In the meantime, check out Perk is a Beast for all your Celtics news and crazed rantings, and WebMD for that rash. Seriously, dude. You should have that looked at.