Twelve questions.
- Does this house have heating?
Moving off campus into a house certainly has its benefits. On the other hand, we are constantly experiencing Seven Syndrome, a phenomenon named after the Brad Pitt movie. Every time the film's detectives encountered a new corpse, they had a shocked, dumbfounded look on their face because they can't comprehend how it's possible for a human being to mutilate something so badly. Similarly, while trying to clean the house of all remnants of its hipster-inhabited past, my housemates and I have frequently been forced to pause just to gape at – perhaps even admire – some of their handiwork. Examples include a fridge left with rotting vegetables and a thumb found in a cup.
The house has finally been tamed, but the weather is beginning to turn. As such, the most common question over the past three days has been, "does this house have heating?" I do not believe that it does. In fact, I am actually wearing six layers of clothing right now. A brief tour of the six is appropriate. Closest to my body is a free t-shirt I received from a summer employer who refused to pay me. I am wearing it only out of spite, since I haven't showered in eighteen hours and am sure I smell awful. The next level is a full-sleeved, dark blue Ford shirt courtesy of the dying days of retailer Steve and Barry's. The shirt was purchased for $2. The third level is not only where you want your offensive lineman to be, but where you will find a vintage '03 basketball camp t-shirt. Six year old shirts should no longer fit me. The fourth level of defense against the brutal cold of our common room is a long sleeve collared shirt given as a gift from my aunt. Solid rotation player. Layer five was a free t-shirt from my well-heated, on-campus residence last year. Originally, I was wearing a much more highly-touted t-shirt, but then Mo Lewis tore it and the layer five shirt has been a gem for me ever since. Layer six is a turtleneck I can only wear around the house because no one looks good in a turtleneck. No, this house does not have heating.
- Do you want to play some Texas Odom?
A fantastic card game very similar to Texas Hold 'Em. The main difference is that instead of dealing three cars to begin play, the other players are forced to laud your versatility. In fact, everything is about versatility. Instead of aces wild, its everything wild. Versatility! You are also required to be both big and little blind at the same time, maybe play a little point guard if it comes to it.
- [Glances at phone] Is this you?
A classic question, asked every time phone numbers are exchanged. After getting their digits and placing the call, your number will flash across the other person's caller ID screen. The person will then pause and take a moment to verify that this unknown number is actually yours with the aforementioned question. I applaud their commitment to safety, since there is a chance that in the exact same moment that I decide to call you as you're watching me do so, there might be a completely unknown third party who also decides to call you with an unknown number. Marty Schottenheimer was known for actually declining the call, just to be safe.
Yes.
- Bigger scrub – Louis 13th or Louis 15th?
Louis 13th allowed an aging Cardinal Richelieu to put up pretty good numbers. Louis the 13th is also referenced in the recent summer blockbuster GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra. Louis XIII, definitely, though Lou Williams is probably the biggest scrub of all time.
- Was Scrubs ever good?
Cutaway. Homoeroticism! Gruff demeanor. Sike! Self-confidence, self-doubt, not gruff demeanor, reassuring. [Indie music] Come on sport, that's why I'm so hard on you…because I trust you, god damnit. And that's why you're going to be a great doctor.
Maybe it was good once, maybe I was in sixth grade, we may never know.
- Who is Eddie Rommel?
Widely considered the father of the knuckleball and the bastard child of the split-fingered fastball, Rommel was a star pitcher on the Philadelphia Athletics from 1920-1932. He once pitched 17 innings in relief during a single game.
- If you could die in any one place and location, where would it be?
Due to a bituminous coal-based budget surplus, West Virginia did not levy an estate tax for those who died in 2005 (unconfirmed). Barring that, I'd opt to die the day after tomorrow, hopefully by a cold front that stabs me as Jake Gyllenhall and I try to outrun it.
- Best DJ? Worst?
Best is definitely Funkmaster Flex, the renowned Hot 97 DJ. My favorite story about him is the fact that he once said, on air, "That last song was 'Live Your Life' by T.I. featuring forehead". I'm almost positive it was him who said it. He once asked listeners to email him at funkmaster.flex@gmail.com, which I'm pretty sure is just the email he created for himself once he realized soccrboi378@hotmail.com was not appropriate when applying to colleges. Anyway, the worst DJ is by far Mbenga.
- Are trends in NBA uniforms any better than trends in NFL uniforms?
No. The day-to-day changes in NBA uniforms means that the league is no better off than the NFL is. For example, Portland is wearing a uniform that says "Rip City" across the front of it. In a league where every jersey in converging towards Carolina blue, my beloved Nets wear a shade of red for their road uniforms that can only be described as infected. The ninth level of hell is reserved for traitors, and the tenth level of hell has to be reserved for whoever designed "Infection Red" Nets uniforms.
- Want to watch a game at "The Corp"?
There is no problem with a given sports franchise selling the naming rights to its stadium to a corporate sponsor. Some may feel that the fact that hundreds of millions of taxpayer dollars are committed from cities held hostage by the threat of relocation should offer Joe Q. Public some voice in terms of what his stadium will be named. Wrong. For example, Veterans Stadium, the longtime home to two Philadelphia sports teams, was dedicated in honor of the millions of patriots who served this country. Locals lovingly knew it as "The Vet". Decades of heavy usage eventually overcame The Vet, which begat two new venues, Lincoln Financial Field and Citizens Bank Park. Each field takes its name from a mid-level bank.
"The Vet" is a timeless moniker. "The Linc" and "The Bank", as they are promoted, are names signifying nothing more than pathetically manufactured nostalgia. Speaking of which, I can't wait to watch a game at Rutgers's new stadium "The Herp".
If the owners of sports franchises accept taxpayer money in order to build a venue, then they owe us when they sell the name of the stadium. I view it as an investor being paid a dividend. If a franchise can fund its own stadium with entirely private resources, then it makes sense that those parties can decide how to split any subsequent revenues. Maybe there is no public support for such an idea right now, but when the Green Bay Packers play at AIG Field, your head will explode too.
- Is the final cumuluative?
No, but since each concept builds on a previous one, you should make sure you know how to do everything we've covered since the start of the semester.
