American Eagle

I got a pretty sweet jacket at American Eagle the other day. It was only thirty bucks and just my size: XXL. Except in the real world I wear a large. Seriously, I’m not that fat which makes me wonder what the hell their deal is. For some reason, American Eagle doesn’t start their sizing out at small like normal stores would. Oh no. That’d be too easy. Instead they start at extra small which not even the most anorexic of emo kids can squeeze into. Maybe (and it’s a really big maybe) my five-year-old brother could wear them but since there’s no Sponge Bob or tractors on them, that probably wouldn’t happen. I guess rich people could dress up their scarecrows in AE. Do they even make scarecrows anymore?

It just doesn’t make sense to me. Why not make sizes what they are? They don’t even make clothes big enough for real fat people which is stupid because this country has quite a few of them. Think about it. Make larger clothes for fat people and create new sizes like Hippo, Whale, and Roseanne. The customer base will be sure to triple. When this happens AE’s prices should go down. Then I won’t have to pay 75 dollars for a scarf. Everybody wins.

But really, for guys, what size your clothes aren’t that big a deal. What’s more important for us is video games, high fiving, and hitting each other over the head with bottles.

What I’m more worried about is the poor little girls who, thanks to the media, have low self-esteem to begin with. They already see on TV that they aren’t pretty enough. Let’s have their favorite store tell them that they’re fat as well. But then again, without these positive influences we might not have awesome diseases like Anorexia and Bulimia. And let me tell you, nothing gets guys going like a girl who makes herself throw-up.

Now don’t get me wrong and be like, “Well Jason Bice, if you hate American Eagle so much, why don’t you just not shop there?”

Because I got a freaking sweet deal on a jacket. That’s why! I mean, I still gotta look fancy. If I don’t nobody will like me, and then how do you expect me to score hot chicks? On my personality?! That just doesn’t work nowadays unless, of course, you’re a conniving hippy who can find some girl naïve enough to believe the crap that you tell her. But that’s a bit off the subject. Hippies don’t shop at American Eagle.

Have you ever walked into one and had someone greet you promptly? Yeah, it’s pretty nice. Then you walk another five steps and then someone else greets you. The employees and their little walkie-talkie headsets are just so friendly.

“Hey man, that’s a really sweet jacket! Did you know we have graphic tees on sale for 10 bucks?

“Oh, really? No, I didn’t know that because I can’t read the giant sign you have up that says “Graphic Tees on Sale for only 10 bucks.”

“Yeah, they’re really sweet like that jacket you’re thinking about buying. Did you know we have socks on sale for only 35 bucks? It’s a sweet deal for the sweet socks much like those sweet graphic tees and that sweet jacket you’re thinking about buying.”

I could go on with this but it gets annoying. Plus with all this “sweet” talk, my readers might “sour” on me. Ha Ha Ha. Lamest joke ever. But honestly, they get that annoying. I mean just let me pick out my damn scarves in peace. You don’t have to act like we’re best friends. My best friend is Jesus and he never tries to sell me graphic tees.

Fucking Nerds

As I began my college career, it became apparent just how many different kinds of nerds there actually are. More than I could have ever imagined, that’s for sure. There’s fat ones, skinny ones, gay ones, straight ones, dirty ones, clean ones, and so on. Therefore, I’m writing this handy guide so the common person can distinguish between them. This way you can make fun of them appropriately.

Team Nerd

When nerds travel together it’s called a team. This isn’t because it says it in the dictionary or anything. It’s just because I made it up. The first time I witnessed the original Team Nerd was in Chandler dining hall. There were four of them: Skinny Nerd, Fat Nerd, Blind Girl, and Random Friend.

My one friend I was sitting with said he had a class with Fat and Skinny. He told me the story of how there was a test one day and Skinny turned around and said, ”You ready for this test, man?” To which Fat Nerd replied, “Sure am.”

“But what’s so Nerdy about that?” you may be asking yourself. Nothing, except for the fact that they high-fived afterwards. Only nerds would high-five before a test.

Because of this, we started to give the nerds their own personality and back-story, which was entirely made up but still funny. Anyway let’s meet the team.

Skinny Nerd- Sporting a collared shirt with flames across it and khaki pants, Skinny Nerd was the undisputed leader of the group. His smart-ass comments and remarkable wit always kept the rest of the group upbeat and laughing. Skinny was also the heartthrob of the group, with his puffy hair that bounced when he walked; he was the only member of the team we saw with a girlfriend.

Fat Nerd- Fat Nerd, Skinny’s right hand man, wasn’t actually that fat but it just seemed appropriate to call him that since there was already a Skinny. Fat was the more serious nerd, always focusing on his studies and specializing in Dungeons and Dragons tournaments. The avid star wars fan, as every nerd is, he would sometimes get caught playing with his light saber in class! And no, light saber isn’t some attempt at a clever sexual innuendo about masturbating. He had an actual light saber.

Blind Girl- Blind didn’t let her inability to see keep her down. In fact, we had trouble believing that she was really blind in the first place. She never seemed to run into things and carried her tray quite well. I have this theory that when Blind was young, God gave her special x-ray sunglasses that gave her the ability to see and cheat at rummy. The catch was that she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. Apparently God didn’t want anyone to know he was still around performing miracles because he doesn’t have time for that shit.

Random Friend- Random friend was just that: Random. She didn’t really look like a nerd but she was always there at the dinner table with the rest of the gang. Why she hung out with them was one of the great mysteries of the world that no one will ever solve. I like to think that her cool friends made a bet with her saying that she couldn’t turn fat into the prom King. Then I realized that I wasn’t paying attention to what I was writing and watching She’s All That, instead.

So that’s it for the Team but there are still many other nerds to discover.

Video Game Nerd- When he’s not playing the 15^th expansion of World Of Warcraft he’s downing Mountain Dews and eating Doritos at the local hotspot talking about it. I swear for as much time as video game nerd plays the actual game, he spends twice as much time reading reviews for it and looking up strategy guides. I’ve even heard of one case in which Video Game Nerd chose his computer over his girlfriend. I guess the game put out more.

Know-it-all Nerd- Know-it-all Nerd or KITAN, always likes to raise his hand in class and shout out answers. Unfortunately, he’s almost always wrong and ends up making a fool out of himself. This doesn’t stop him, however, from trying to prove the teacher wrong. He’ll often spend 10-15 hours doing research in a futile attempt to find a way to prove himself right.

Muscles- Muscles got tired of being picked on in high school so he’s spent the past 3 years getting buff to exact revenge. They usually aren’t hard to spot. Just look for the guy in the weight room wearing glasses and the bow tie. Wow, you’re big and tough now. Too bad you’re newly added muscle is going to cut down on your words per minute typing skills. Nice one.

Dancing Nerd- I know everyone’s seen at least one dancing nerd. They usually show up to the party in their best Dragon Ball Z shirt looking to bust a move to the new hit techno song. Everyone enjoys a good laugh as Dancing Nerd awkwardly moves around the dance floor suavely blowing kisses and winking at the ladies. In the end, he receives pity applause and feels like king of the world.

Emo Nerd- Emo nerd just won’t face the fact that he sucks. Instead he puts on the “cool” black-framed nerd glasses and dresses trendy. Emo takes pictures of himself not looking at the camera to show his “I don’t give a Fuck” attitude and posts them on Myspace. All right, man. You’re right. You aren’t a nerd at all. Go back to listening to your queer music and making emotionless faces.

Teacher’s Pet Nerd- TPN is the most hated nerd ever. Whenever the teacher is about to end class, he’ll start asking a series of unrelated and unimportant questions, causing the whole class to wait. TPN usually scoffs when people make jokes in class and will tattle if someone’s cheating. Get a life you nerdy bastard. God!

Yeah, so that’s about it for my guide to nerds. Now, I know I haven’t covered all the nerds as there are thousands upon thousands, but I don’t have time to write about every one of them because I have to go blog on the Star Wars Message board. Sorry I have a life!

Steelers rule and so does Valentines Day

Well, the super bowl is over and everyone now knows what Steelers fans knew all along: That the Pittsburgh Steelers are the best team in the history of the universe and are definitely better than any team you like. So Steelers fans can finally rejoice in the fact that we finally got that one for the thumb and Steelers haters can, well, cry about it.

But anyways, this article isn’t about The Steelers. (Ha Ha you got punk’d!) I just thought I needed to get that out of the way. It’s actually about Valentine’s Day. And I know what you’re thinking,

“Jason Bice hates everything, so obviously he hates Valentines Day.”

That’s actually untrue. To me Valentines Day is that special day when you send your best gal a bouquet of roses and fancy chocolates, then take her to a high class restaurant (probably not in Clarion), and if you’re lucky you may just win a good night kiss, unless of course your best gal is a whore, in that case you’re really lucky!

I remember back in my dorm days, my friends and I would enjoy the fine dining of Chandler ever Valentines evening. We would sit there for hours and make fun of all the nerds who didn’t have a big date on such a special day. Of course, my friends and I also didn’t have any dates, but were too cool for dates. Really. I’m serious.

This year I figured I’d do my part to help all the lonely guys actually find a Valentines Day date. When this article is printed you’ll have four days left to follow my advice so you better act quickly. Do exactly what I say and pay no attention to the fact that I’ve never had a Valentine of my own or a girlfriend for that matter. (Because of this I’m pretty sure my mom questions my sexuality sometimes.) But enough about how pathetic I am, I now give you “Jason Bice’s Awesome Guide to getting A Valentines Day Date!”

1. This first helpful tip is for all the rich kids in town. If you haven’t figured it out yet, a lot of girls love money. They need it to by fancy things like new hats and laundry detergent. So to get a date you can do either one of two things. You can flaunt your money around by wearing around expensive clothes and cruising up and down Main Street in your H3. The girls will be sure to flock to you then. The other option is basically the same except these kinds of girls don’t care about what you wear or drive because you pay them directly. They’re called prostitutes and you probably won’t even have to take her to dinner.

2. For all you computer nerds, quit playing the “War Craft” or whatever the hell it is you people play, and log onto facebook. Most single ladies have their AIM names readily available and I’m sure sending them lots of creepy messages asking them to be your valentine will get you in with them quite well. Now I don’t mean one or two creepy messages. I mean like 30. It’s not stalking if you’re in love. Just try not to mention your pogs collection or that You’re a level 9 grand wizard in the land of Dungeons and Dragons. That may be too creepy.

3. For you artistic fellows out there, you can go the Napoleon Dynamite route and draw a picture of her. I mean look how well it worked out for him. Pretty Damn Well if you ask me. Or you could find out her favorite animal, for example, a penguin, and draw one for her everyday. You know you’d think after 25 she’d be in love with you by now. But apparently not. Come on, Miss. That’s a penguin a day for 25 days, just give in!

4. Another technique I’d recommend is standing outside one of the girls’ dorms and shouting every time a girl walks out “Gee, I sure am a lonely guy. It would really be swell if some hot girl would agree to be my valentine.” Some girls take pity on guys that do that stuff and other girls call the police. Let me tell you I’ve run into too many of the “other” girls. I’m really not a creep. I promise. (As I lick my lips and creepily stare at you.)

5. Finally if all else fails, call your mom. She’s probably going to love you no matter what. You won’t have to pay for dinner because she’ll make it for you and she’ll give you hugs and console you to make you feel better because you are pathetic and spending Valentines Day with your mommy.

Those are about all my tips for the week. If they don’t work, there’s really nothing I can do about it so don’t come crying to me. See ya later, kids!

My new WInter Job

I’m pretty much the stereotypical poor-pockets college kid, and with winter break rapidly approaching I’ve been trying to think of the perfect way to load up on extra cash for spring semester.
I thought about selling my body but my dad told me that’s how he got thrown in jail. Then I thought about selling drugs but my mom told me that’s how she got thrown in jail. I just didn’t know what I could do to make my bank account go up instead of down. Then, last Thursday night it hit me.
First let me “set the scene.” That’s right I said set the scene! Wanna fight about it? Well too bad. I’m telling a story. OK, anyway, last Thursday, I did something very un-Jason Bicelike. I went to this red carpet party at the Holiday Inn. It was this themed party where everyone was supposed to dress up as there favorite celebrity, and when you walked in you got to walk onto the “red carpet.” Yeah. The red carpet was actually a red piece of paper that ripped a little more every time someone stepped on it. It lasted about five minutes. I also wasn’t informed prior to this event that I was supposed to dress as my favorite celebrity. Lucky for me, behind Tony Danza and Chuck Norris, Jason Bice is my favorite celebrity so I didn’t look too ridiculous.
So, my lovely date and I sit down at the table with a group of her friends, and to my surprise “The Brent” was sitting right next to me. For those of you who don’t know “The Brent”, he is one of Facebook’s most famous personalities and one of my loyal readers. If that wasn’t enough, the creator of my fan group, Mr. Brian Cumpston, was sitting at the table next to us. It was quite the exciting time for me, as I had never met either of these young gentlemen.
I was having quite a nice conversation with Brent about my latest article when a guy dressed as Napoleon Dynamite joined the conversation.
“Are you talking about the away message article.” He asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Did you think it was funny?”
“No, I don’t really like that kid.” He said back.
I just kind of laughed because I thought he was joking and continued my conversation.
“Wait was that you?! He asked. “Yeah.” I said.
“You look so much cooler in your picture.”
I didn’t really know what to say to that because I was under the assumption that I looked cool all the time. Apparently I was wrong. But I’m way off track now. Better not ever let me drive a train! HAHAHAHAHA! Get it? Cuz I’m off track and a train relies on tracks to get to its destination. HAAHAHAHAAHAHAH!
What’s this article about again? Oh yeah, winter jobs. It just so happened that this party had Karaoke. Being the excellent singer that I am and being that Brent, Brian, and I were all wearing fancy blue shirts with ties, we decided we would sing the classic hit “Hurt So Good” by John Mellencamp. Of course, after we sang our rendition, women swarmed us and ripped off our nice blue shirts and ties. Then some average Joe in the crowd came up to us and said.
“Hey, you guys rock! You should do that for a living.” Brent, Brian, and I looked at each other and immediately high-fived. We would become professional Karoakers!
I felt so stupid for not of thinking of it before. We immediately hired Kristopher Snyder, as our mathematician and manager, and he booked us gigs at 32 different bars across the state. So this winter break, everyone should go to the Karaoke bars and give me and my friends money because we are obviously the best karaokers in America and probably Canada too. Merry Christmas, everyone. Jesus loves you!

I don't like you and I don't care what you think!

Has anyone ever told you that they don’t care what other people think of them? If so, those people are liars. Not just any kinds of liars either, dirty liars. They’re such dirty liars, in fact, that if they went and took a 3-hour shower, they would still be dirtier than that one kid on your floor who wears the same wolf shirt everyday and smells like a bathroom full of kids that just got back from Chandler. Why are they liars? I’ll tell you why.

Everybody cares about how other people perceive them. They may not care what every single person in the world thinks about them, but they do care what the people around them do. That’s why we see popped collars, trucker hats, and stupid purses that look like somebody killed a mermaid.

I’m not exempt from this either. I care a lot about what people think of me. That’s why I wear pink shirts and shop at such fashionable places as American Eagle and Aeropostle. I especially enjoy how the workers in these stores all have headsets so they can talk to each other from across the room. Is this really necessary? I mean the store isn’t that big. What the hell do they even have to say to each other?

“Hey Brent, watch out for the guy in the red shirt, I think he got that belt from K-Mart.”

“Will do Clint, do you maybe want to go see Elizabethtown later?”

“Sorry, I’m having a raspberry smoothie party at my place. Be there or be square!”

I’d imagine this is pretty much how every conversation goes at these places, though I could be wrong.

But let’s get back to my point. (As if I really even have one.) I’d like for everyone to say, “Hey that’s Jason Bice sure is swell and is so smooth with the ladies!” but that’s not always the case. Not everyone thinks I’m swell and girls think I’m creepy. I’m also horrible with first impressions because I try and say things that I think people will laugh at but instead they think I’m a jerk. I’m not even really sure why I do this. You’d think I’d learn my lesson but apparently not. Perhaps I should take a different approach. Maybe I could introduce myself with a dance. I do have some of the best moves in town. The only problem with that would be that someone might think I’m trying to challenge them. Then I risk getting served but if you have any better ideas let me know.

Let’s face it. There’s not one person in the world that everyone likes, well, other than Tony Danza, and rumor has it that some people don’t even like him! There’s always going to be at least one person that doesn’t like you for one reason or another. Maybe it’s because you’re fat, maybe it’s because you’re a nerd, or maybe it’s because you’re Ryan Seacrest, it could be for pretty much anything. I guess the only thing you can do is pop your collar and hope for the best. That’s what I’m going to do. Seacrest out!

Things on Aim that PIss me Off!

Now I know what you’re thinking, “Hey, AIM is a great tool for talking to my buddies who are in the same room and setting up random one night stands with girls I meet on myspace, how could this great marvel of modern man do anything to piss you off?” And indeed those are two very useful ways AIM can be used, but let’s face it, for every smooth AIM operator like myself, there are about 25 Fucks who live and breathe on the damn thing. As in the title, this article will explain all the things that people do on AIM that piss me off. You can read it if you’re not too busy checking your buddies’ away message for the 50th time. It’s not gonna change dumbass! BigJohn234 is still eating his grandma’s delicious turkey dinner then heading to the local hot spot to smoke cigarettes and scribble in his book of feelings!
Away Messages- I especially enjoy the people who put up an away message that explains in great detail what they are doing. For example: “It’s morning so I am getting up, jacking off, taking a shower, drying off, wiping my ass with my roommates towel, eating breakfast. I’ll be back in 32 minutes 37 seconds. Leave a message and maybe I’ll see it. If it’s that important call my cell. If my cells not working call the house phone. If that doesn’t work just stop on by.” Hey Ass Clown! No one really cares about your meaningless days agenda. Oh and the added humor about wiping your ass with your roommates towel, priceless. I’m sure his butt dart loving ass will laugh quite heartily when he sees it. And I will laugh quite heartily when you two leap froggers find out I’ve been sleeping with both of your moms! At the same time!
Another set of classic away messages that I despise are the ol’ “I have no friends so I’ll put up an away message that show my pain and strife and maybe, just maybe someone will want to hang out with me“ pity routine. These can be shown in many different ways, such as “Watching a movie, come join me,” or “I’m bored! Give me a call.” These are just to name a few and the more I list the more pathetic they become. Hey maybe if you all weren’t such losers, your friends would already be over watching 13 Going on 30 with you and perhaps if you didn’t suck so bad at life you’re “friends” wouldn’t all tell you they were doing homework but instead they were all hanging out at the bar. You know why you’re bored? Because you weren’t invited. Save the pity for your mom, loser. She might be too tired to feel sorry for you though, seeing as I just had sex with her.
And finally, what better way to ruin someone you’re pissed at’s reputation, than telling everyone on your AIM list? Your boyfriend cheated on you? Awwwwwww try, “You’re such an asshole Pete. Thinking about how I’m gonna continue my life over a bowl of ice cream.” That’ll teach that two-timing son of a bitch and as an added bonus, all your guy friends, who have been secretly in love with you all this time, will instantly IM you asking if there’s anything they can do to make it better. But beware what you write, once you belittle Pete, everyone who has your name on AIM will know what an asshole he is and his life will be ruined. Hey he might even kill himself. Oh wait no. He’ll still be getting ass from the girl he cheated on you with. Sorry whore!
Showing that you’re mad at someone is also an easy attention getter. Even if you’re not really mad at anyone try this, “I can’t believe you did that, I thought we were friends.” Now everyone on your list who sees this will think “Could I be the one he’s mad at?” They will most certainly IM you to see what this message is all about. Don’t be surprised if you return to 20 messages all saying “Was it something I did?” Also, don’t be surprised if your mom’s expecting a child. I expect these bitches to have condoms when I get there Dammit!
Yeah, so that’s about it for the away messages. I mean I’m sure there’s plenty of other ones that piss me off but I think that about covers it for now. Kind of like the covers your mom and I throw off your bed when we’re having sex. Oh now I’m beating a dead horse. Well, maybe I’m doing that and having sex with your mom at the same time or maybe it’s a threesome with the dead horse. Either way, come back next week when we move on to the dreaded AIM users info!

You're a Bandwagon!

Looking for the coolest way to fit in? Well, the easiest way to show you’re one of the gang is to root for the most popular sports team of interest. And if you want to look like the ultimate winner, become a fan of the teams that win more than any others. Think of all the respect you’ll receive from everyone else when you show up at the local hotspot in your Yankees cap, Patriots jersey, and Walker Texas Ranger Cowboy boots. You, my friend, are the definition of winner.

Remember when the Red Sox went to the World Series? All of a sudden it was like everyone in Clarion was a Boston fan. I used to bounce at the Loomis (cuz I’m a bad ass) and everyone that came in was wearing their Red Sox caps and Manny Ramirez jerseys and just talking about how great “their” team was. It made me mad because everyone knows that the Pittsburgh Pirates were going to win it all. Who cares if they didn’t make the playoffs?! I always win with them on MVP Baseball for Gamecube. It’s not on the rookie level either. Nope I’ve made it up to pro. So, Ha!

OK, so maybe the Pirates aren’t that great a team. That doesn’t mean everyone has to jump on the BoSox bandwagon just because it receives the most media attention. Everyone was like “We’re cursed. Our beloved team is cursed!” You’re not cursed A-hole. Just because you started liking them doesn’t mean you can just claim ridiculous curses. Gosh! Besides, the White Sox went longer without a World Series and you don’t hear them crying about a curse.

I think the thing that made me the maddest about the Red Sox thing came about the night they won it all. I was working the door at the Loomis and Johnny Jackass came in decked out in Red Sox gear from head to toe. The first thing he said to me was “Did they win?” I wanted to punch that guy in the face. I mean what kind of fan doesn’t know if their “favorite” team won the biggest game of the year? A bandwagon fan, that’s who! If I were a Red Sox fan, I would have kicked the crap out of the guy and then went and made out with his wife, or mother, whoever was hotter.

Now before the Red Sox bandwagon hit, there was the dreaded Yankees bandwagon. Let me tell you something, one time my roommate, Chan, got drunk and crapped all over the toilet seat. Now let me tell you something relevant to my article, if you aren’t from New York, you have absolutely no business being a Yankee fan. None. Why do you like the Yankees? Because they’re pretty much awesome, that’s why. I mean that’s why you picked them as your favorite team right? Because they’re good? Exactly. Bandwagon! And don’t give me this crap, that you’ve “been a Yankee fan since I was knee high to a grasshopper.” First off, there is no possible way you were ever that small to be “knee-high to a grasshopper.” Unless, of course you had a shrink ray. If that’s true, then can I borrow it? I’ve always wanted to use one. I’d probably shoot it at your brain but I highly doubt it could get any smaller.

Bandwagonism has been a problem for a long time. Bandwagonism also wasn’t a word before, but it is now. Last year when football season came about my ten year old brother Jacob informed me that his favorite football team was the Philadelphia Eagles. Now I had warned him the hazards of being an Eagles fan. I told him the usual things like, Jesus doesn’t love people who root for the Eagles, and that if you like the Eagles you’ll get genital herpes, but he just wouldn’t listen. Then one day Jacob told me that he now liked the Steelers. I asked him why he had changed his mind and he told me because all his friends liked them. I thought that this would be a good time to teach him a lesson so I called him a bandwagon and told him that only bandwagons changed teams. He listened, of course, since I know everything, and although he routes for a garbage team, at least he’s not a bandwagon.

I guess the moral of this story is that if you’re a bandwagon, you’ll probably go to Hell. But it’s OK if everyone jumps on the “Jason Bice” bandwagon. I mean, everyone should like me because I am the coolest. Later.

Dance Offs are for Real Men

Remember the old days when a dispute was resolved with a good old-fashioned punch to the face? For instance, say “Willy Womanizer” was trying to put the moves on your girlfriend. You, and possibly some of your buddies, would take this fine gentleman to the side and calmly start beating the crap out of him. But now, thanks largely in part to the rise of the Metrosexual and the release of the epic blockbuster “You Got Served” things are different. Now things are settled with a “Dance-Off.”

Gone are the days of “Randy Roids” and “Peter Pecks” being the bullies. Their giant muscles only weigh them down when they are challenged to “take it to the streets” leaving the smaller, more limber opponent with the faster feet to “serve” them. This not only levels the playing field but is also more amusing than watching some nerd get his butt kicked.

“But Jason Bice, I don’t know the first thing about dancing off! What should I do?”

Well sir, the first thing you should do is go out and rent… no go out and buy the afore mentioned “You Got Served.” For those of you who’ve been living under a rock, “You Got Served” is the story of two break dancers and their dance team who’s goal in life is to beat “Wade’s crew”, a rival dance group from Orange County. In the end their dancing proves superior and the boys get to star in Lil Kim’s hot new video. I give this movie the highest rating of all time. Its only downfall was Steve Harvey, and not Tony Danza played the part of Mr. Rad. Make sure you watch this movie 50 times before you even attempt a dance off.

“Ok Jason Bice, I watched the movie and it sucked! Now what?”

You watch that damn movie again until you think it’s the greatest movie you’ve ever seen!

“Ok Jason Bice, That was the greatest movie I have ever seen in my life. Now what?”

Now you wait for an opportunity to challenge someone. An opportunity is basically when you take exception to what someone is doing. How’s this for an example? Suppose you’re in the “Sex in the City” fan club and you reserved the Gemmel multi-purpose room to watch season 6. Unfortunately, when you get there, the geology club has already taken over and is having a mineral extravaganza. Oh Well, looks like you’ll all have to crowd in to your little dorm room and watch season 6, right? Hell No. You march in there and tell those geology nerds you’re going to “rock” their socks off! (Get it “rock”? hahahaha… God, I’m lame.)

Now it’s on. From this point you can either go five on five or one on one. I usually prefer one on one because I’m such a great dancer and don’t want some slow foot tarnishing my record.

Basically, there are three rounds and three unbiased judges. Round one is the pure moves round. The time limit is the length of the song that the judges pick. You and your opponent better be ready to showcase some, not all, of your best moves in this round.

When the song ends the both of you face the judges. Each of them tells you what they liked and they didn’t like and end with a vote of who wins the round. Don’t worry if you lose this round, though. If you’re creative you can certainly make up for it in the second round.

Which moves us on. Round 2 is basically the same as round 1 but with one crucial difference, Props! Not only are you’re moves reviewed but now you’re judged on your choice of props and how you use them. So remember, if you’re facing a geology kid and he pulls out a hand lense and his rock hammer it’s pretty much over unless you have something to combat it. When time is up this round, you face the judges again and go through the same process as before. If after both rounds there is a tie. You must move on to round three.

Now round three is where you show off the moves you didn’t use in round one. Let me tell you about this round from my own experience.

It was my first dance off ever. Even worse one of the judges was one of the most famous dancers in Clarion, Dan Check. I also was at a disadvantage being that I was facing a rather attractive girl and two of the judges were men. How was I to compete with that?

As the music began for round one, I took a deep breath and started dancing all over the place. My choice moves are the ridiculous quick feet and jazz hands. My opponent did the running man. It’s plain to see who took the round! Jason Bice, that’s who.

Round two wasn’t as successful. I tried using chopsticks as my props but ended up poking myself in the eye. Meanwhile, my opponent just flaunted her large chest at the judges. Stupid large chested girls. Needless to say we were facing a tie and went on to round 3.

Round 3 is no cakewalk. You have to leave it all on the dance floor. We started our respective moves and I could tell the judges were just not impressed. I knew I had to do something drastic. In between toe taps I searched around the room. Then I had it. I quickly danced onto a chair and hopped from the chair on to the top of the meat freezer. The judges were astonished. Such a move had never been done. I had tasted victory that day and it will remain with me the rest of my life.

Anyway, the point of my story is that dance-offs are cool. They are so cool in fact that even lumberjacks and pirates partake in them. Therefore, if you want to be as cool as these men, gather up a crew and find someone to dance off against. Make sure to tell them “You got Served”!

Get Out of My Facebook!

I’ll tell you one thing, before facebook it was a lot harder to keep track of all my friends. First I’d have to take a picture of each one and put it in a notebook. Then I’d have to handwrite their name, dating status, and birthday in the book as well. After a while it became quite the hassle. Then Facebook came along.

For those of you who don’t know what facebook is, where have you been? It’s only the coolest thing to do on the Internet. First you create a profile for yourself complete with a photo, interests, screen name, and so on. Then you can search for other kids that go to your school and add them as friends! The awesome part is you don’t even have to know them. Now they can choose whether to accept you or reject you as a friend but who rejects people? Jerks! That’s who!

After you become friends with someone you can send them secret messages or even poke them! What does poking do? Nothing really. You just get a little message when you log on saying whoever poked you poked you. It’s actually pretty pointless. One thing to remember though is that if you see one of your facebook friends in public, DO NOT POKE THEM, especially if you don’t know them from anywhere other than facebook. They’ll probably get pissed and threaten to call the police. I won’t be making that mistake again.

Another cool thing about facebook is you can create all these little clubs called groups. After you create one, you can invite all your cool new friends to join. Most of the clubs are pretty stupid, except of course for the ones I’m in. Therefore, if you want to be cool join my groups and shun everyone else’s.

So you all think facebook is a pretty good idea, huh? Well I have a better one. It sure is nice that facebook allows you to keep track of all your friends but what happens if you want to keep track of all your enemies? You certainly can’t add them to facebook because then it would mean you were good buddies. And that’s just no fun.

That’s why, if I were a computer nerd, I’d create a website called Hatebook. You would create a profile just like facebook but instead of putting interests you’d put your fears and weaknesses. Then you could start searching for all of the people you don’t like. Remember that one kid who always crapped in the shower stalls back in your dorm days? He’s on there and now he’s going to know you don’t like him.

Hatebook will also keep track of who your enemy’s enemies are. That way if you hate the same person one of your enemies does and you hate the one more than another you may be able to form an unholy alliance just to make the one you both hate’s life miserable. Now that’s what I call a good time.

Getting Back The Bearsuit!

As you all know, a good bearsuit is hard to find. I mean, just to be seen with someone who’s wearing one is a sign of coolness. I’m sure Tony Danza has like fifty. That’s why, when my roommate Chan opened his closet to find his missing, everyone in the house was upset. We knew we had to find out who took it and get it back. Our reputations as coolest kids in Clarion were at stake.

We had to consult public safety right away about the matter. They told us that a missing bearsuit was too big of a case; especially with all the parking tickets they had to give out that day. We then tried the Clarion and State Police but they too refused to take the heavy load. We were told a case like this would take years to solve.

Luckily, Dan Check was old friends with George W. Bush and gave him a call. When our president heard that a bearsuit was stolen, he hopped in Air Force One, leaving whatever 6-week vacation he was on at that time and flew into the Clarion Airport. He then donated 50 million dollars to our investigation efforts saying he would merely institute a bearsuit tax to the rest of America.

After, blowing 50 million dollars on beer and high-class hookers, we still hadn’t seen any sign of the bearsuit. Looking back on it I guess we could have saved a little bit for the investigation but that would mean less beer and hookers.

Then one day, while we were all watching The Golden Girls on lifetime, we saw a Dasani water commercial, featuring a rather portly man wearing a bearsuit. But this wasn’t just any bearsuit. It was Chan’s bearsuit! We could tell by the special family seal on the bottom. Chan, Dan, and I were, of course outraged, when we noticed our other roommate, Matt, hiding his face.

Then we put it all together. We had seen this portly bearsuit thief before, in pictures with Matt. It was his infamous brother, Wade! We asked Matt of his whereabouts but he disappeared in a puff of smoke. What were we to do?

Dan suggested we use the Internet but we just laughed at him. After he told us that the Internet was used for things other than pornography, we quickly did a search for Wade and found his telephone number.

Then we go drunk and Chan decided to call him. It was around 2 in the morning and he was missing his bearsuit something fierce. He dialed up the numbers the best he could and Wade answered with a cheerful “Hello.”

“Give us back the bearsuit, Wade!” yelled Chan, “We know you have it!”

“What are you talking about? Who is this?” asked a confused sounding Wade.

“The rightful owner of that bearsuit! Give it back.” Chan yelled.
After about four or five calls from Chan, Wade seemed to be getting a little angry. He said he would call the police. But all Chan wanted was the bearsuit and kept calling.

About a week later Chan got a phone call. It was Officer Cliff, from the police department. He told Chan that Wade had called to complain about some prank calls and mentioned something about a bearsuit.

Just to take a break for a minute; can you imagine what that complaint call was like?

“Hello Officer, some kid keeps calling me and asking me for a bearsuit I don’t have.”

What do you say to that?

Anyways, Officer Cliff told Chan that Wade was thinking about pressing charges for harassment. Brokenhearted, Chan didn’t know what to do. He told Officer Cliff he was sorry and that it wouldn’t happen again. Then Officer Cliff ended by asking Chan if he’d ever been to jail. Chan of course said “Not in America.” Officer Cliff then replied “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

In the end, Chan talked with Matt. Matt called Wade and told him not to press charges and all talks of Chan going to jail were gone. But the bearsuit is still missing. Do you have it?

Join My Frat!

Do you have trouble making friends? Is sitting in your dorm room downloading porn all day just getting to be too routine? Well, if you answered yes to these questions then get ready to put on your trucker hats and pop your collars because, have I got a deal for you!

Now many will ask, “What kind of deal, Jason Bice? A drug deal?”

No. No. A drug deal will only get you found dead in the woods thirty miles away. The deal I’m referring to is joining a frat. And I’m not talking about just any old frat; I’m talking about my frat, Delta Iota Chi or DIX for short. Because we all know that joining a fake fraternity is ten times as cool as joining a real one.

You all may be wondering why my frat is better than the other ones on campus. Because I said so, that’s why! But seriously, there are a lot of reasons.

When most new fraternity members start out, they sometimes make the mistake of calling their fraternity a “Frat.” They are quickly scolded by the elder brothers and are asked the classic question, “Would you call your country a “part of the female anatomy”?” Not here at DIX. We proudly call ourselves “Fratties.” Besides if you shortened “country” it would be pronounced, “count” not the other thing.

Another thing about most fraternities is that once you’re in, you have to pretend to like everyone else that’s in. At DIX, you can hate all your brothers. For example, if you have a problem with Jimmy because he stole your Magic: The Gathering cards, you can just take him to the octagon outside the house and beat the living crap out of him.

“How’s the party scene at DIX?” I’m glad you asked. We’ve all been to regular frat parties. Sure it’s a good time, but don’t you get tired of getting yelled at to shut up every time a cop car drives by? I know I do. That’s why whenever a cop comes to our door; we just release our secret weapon, Tony Danza. That’s right I said Tony Danza. I mean who doesn’t like Tony Danza? He’s an American Hero.

So suppose Bob Copper comes a-knockin on our door during a big bash. We just let Tony out of his cage, he tap dances; the cops applaud and then they leave. No jail time for us tonight. Now that’s what I call foolproof.

As for the parties themselves, we’ve got the three B’s, Beer, “girls”, and Battleship. Obviously “girls” doesn’t begin with “B” but something else does. What’s better is that not only are the girls hot, but they want to have sex with you! Girls love DIX. Sure we pay them but it’s a hell of a lot better than waking up next to Fat Patty. Now she’s a whore.

And what party would be complete without beverages? For the manly men, such as myself, we have Mike’s Hard Lemonade on tap at all times. For you sissies who drink beer, we have American Light.

Still not convinced? Who wants to do community service? I know I don’t but if you join any other frat you’re gonna have to. Who cares about the stupid community anyway? Not us DIX that’s for sure. We only care about wearing skintight shirts so everyone can see our nips.

“What about pledging?” All the other frats keep what goes on during hell week a secret, except for something stupid like the scavenger hunt. We have a scavenger hunt too! In our scavenger hunt, though, you only have to find one thing, our sweetheart’s baby daddy. This will be tough since she’s slept with like fifty guys, but we don’t have the money to get a DNA test and Maury’s booked until next year.

Finally, every fraternity has dues. DIX is the same in this aspect. I mean we have to pay the hookers right? For the small cost of your book money, you can become a full-fledged member of this great brotherhood. Seriously, who needs books? Books are for nerds and for midgets to sit on. You’re only going to be here a year before you fail out anyway. Why not spend it the way you want to? Drunk and with prostitutes. Yeah!

Have Fun at Home on The Weekends

As the weekend approaches, I can always be sure of three things; I will win a dance-off, my roommate, Chan, will pass out and get drawn on, and all the freshman will pack up and go home. How incredibly cool is that? I mean, obviously the dance-offs and roommate art already have a given status of coolness but going home? That’s beyond cool. That’s almost Tony Danza cool.

Seriously, you go to college to get away from your family so you can learn how to live on your own. If this wasn’t the case, then why even go to a college that’s far away? Why not live with Mommy and Daddy the rest of your lives? First off, you’re parents probably don’t even love you. They don’t want you at their house. If they did, do you think they would’ve rented your room out to the homeless drunk who used to take dumps in your yard? Doubtful. Your parents sent you to college for one reason: to get you out of the house. They’ve had to deal with the fact that the condom broke for 18 years and when they finally get you out of the house you keep coming back.

Not that any of you care about your parents anyways. I know the real reason you head home. For girls, they go home to see their boyfriends. You know, the one’s who never went to college, are probably 28 years old, and have that great job working at “The Shop.” He’s really going places, girls. This long-distance relationship is sure to last. But do him a favor and not come home on the weekends. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see you; it’s just that the weekends are the best time to cheat on your girlfriend. Now you tell me how he’s going to do that when you’re around writing him cute little notes and telling him how much you love him? I mean, doesn’t the verbal abuse and face slapping get a little old?

For the guys it’s not much different. They had better head home or else their girlfriends, who have just graduated middle school, will give them quite the nagging. Give it up, dude. She has to be in by 10 and it’s not worth it. If you’re looking for some action that bad, just find some drunk girl. Clarion has quite a few and I’m sure they’d be more than willing to help you out. Now I’m not saying you should take advantage of drunk girls, I’m saying that if they’re drunk and they want you, then do it. If she wakes up in the morning and regrets it, let that be a lesson to her. But don’t worry guys, nothing like that will ever happen to you because you’ll be watching your girl cheer at the big high school football game. That’s another asinine reason to go home.

“Hey Ricky, wanna stay here and party this weekend? There’s gonna be mad girls at the Delta Iota Chi house.”

“Forget that, man. I’m going to the big game and then maybe hang out with all my high school friends at the local hot spot afterwards. My dad might even let us sleep outside in tents.”



I wouldn’t be surprised if this was the conversation that happened every week between the wiser sophomore roommate and the freshman he got stuck with. Who care’s about the stupid high school football game. Just because you were towel boy the last 4 years doesn’t mean you need to return and show your Beaver pride, or whatever the hell your mascot was. And stop wearing you’re high school jacket around campus. It’s stupid and no one care’s that you’re nickname was “Squirrelly.”

Now you may all be wondering why I even care if you guys go home. It’s not really any of business, right? Untrue. If all the freshman girls go home then how am I going to lure them to my apartment with promises of a “good time”? Now I say “good time” because newspaper guidelines won’t permit me to go into detail. Therefore, use your imagination. I’m sure you can think of something. And I know that Clarion doesn’t have very much stuff to do but you chose to go here. So instead of being 5 year-olds and running home each weekend. Stay here and make new friends. Your old ones sucked anyway.