Archive for June, 2009

Come on!! Is she or isn’t she?!!

This morning (or rather afternoon) I woke up with hopes that I’d be receiving my housing assignment from Columbia. They never told us a specific date other than “Late-June” but I just had a hunch since the housing website said that they were undergoing “updates” until today.

But instead I received a very disappointing email from Columbia Housing:

We know that you are anxious to get your housing assignment. Know that we are working on it and will be in touch with you by mid-July.

Great. Thanks. I’ll wait 15 more days for you to get your shit together.

JK Columbia Housing ILU (and hope you give me my first choice!)!!

But even more stressful than waiting for my housing info is waiting on Emma Watson!

Before last week I had learned to cope with the fact that Emma was going to Brown– but then came JustJared who said he had “proof” that she was actually coming to Columbia. The proof? A listing in the student directory under “Charlotte E. Watson”, Charlotte being her middle name. Obviously, I was ecstatic.

My hopes reborn, I went to, the coolest, meanest (and only?) Columbia blog, to confirm my dream. But some bitch of a student had to go and prove JustJared wrong. Apparently on LinkedIn there is a real Charlotte E. Watson who went to Columbia.

But now that my hopes have been reborn, I can’t just let them die again! I won’t believe she’s not coming to Columbia until she says she’s not!

So I’ve been checking her official website more than is normal and healthy. The main page hasn’t even been updated since Christmas.

(side note: did you know that Emma is 19?? Why is she so frickin’ old?)

So please, I’m begging someone reliable! I NEED to know if there is a possibility that Emma Watson will be living on my floor or not!

In preparation, I’ve already brainstormed some options for what to say when I first meet her. She’s asked for some anonymity to live out a normal college experience, so keep that in mind.

  1. “Hi, I’m Josh… and you are?” This will make her think that I have no idea who she is! Of course the danger is, is that she’ll find out after we become best friends that I lied about not recognizing her.
  2. “Hey, I’m Josh! I totally recognize you but I’ll let you introduce yourself so that you can feel like a normal person!” Not the strongest option, but maybe she’d chuckle?
  3. “Hi, I’m Josh! I sit next to you in Lit Hum!” This one will only work if I sit next to her in Lit Hum. And if we aren’t in Lit Hum when I talk to her.
  4. “Hi, I’m Josh… have you made any friends, because I sure haven’t and I’m desperate!” This one’s just honest.
  5. “Hi, I’m Josh! I hear you speak French?” This is also a lie– I KNOW she speaks French.
  6. “I’m Josh, want a beer?” This is probably my best bet to actually talking to her. Hopefully I’ll have a beer lying around.
  7. “It’s really nice to meet you! What’s it like to go to Hogwarts? I honestly waited by my fireplace for a month after I turned eleven for my letter… It never came.” Once again, honesty, pure and simple.
  8. “Hi, I’m Josh! Don’t worry about being bothered by people all the time– that’s what James Franco’s for.” That’s pretty funny right?
  9. “Hi, I’m Josh! I’ll be your friend only if you’re interesting.” Straightforward and real.
  10. “Hi, I’m… oh.” That’s me attempting to say hello, but then watching her walk away, pretending not to see me.

So which one’s your favorite? Do you have any other suggestions for me?


An Open Letter to Jesus

Dear Jesus,

What are you doing? Why are you so angry? Why have you ended the lives of Ed MacMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, and Billy Mays in less than a week?

Listen, Jesus. I’m already stressed enough trying to put on three musicals over the summer, and now I have to constantly worry about which celebrity is going to die next!

Celebrity deaths are more stressful than the deaths of normal, boring people, because you have to read about them on every website you visit and every paper you open. There are countless VH1 retrospectives and E! Breaking News reports. When a normal person dies, you just get a phone call and then it’s over. Whatever.

So, Jesus, I’d really appreciate it if you could hold off for awhile on making celebrities die. I’d really appreciate it.

I’ll be honest, Jeezy, this is why I pray to Britney Spears instead of you. She’s a lot more loving.



I woke up this morning and I was scared.

This morning I woke up and now I am convinced that something is wrong about today. Let me tell you why.

This morning I woke up to the harsh sound of sprinklers. This is not a sound I usually hear when I wake up (during the summer) since we do not usually have the sprinklers on at 12:37PM, my favorite wakey-wakey time.

Confused, I glanced at my cheap IKEA wall clock– WTF?? 6:35????

Obviously this must be a mistake! I can’t be awake at 6:35AM! Shit, these cheap clocks always run out of batteries… maybe it just lost power at 6:35.

I’ll stare at the second hand to see if it moves…

Fuck it moved.

I still don’t believe it. Let me check my cell phone… 6:34AM?!! That’s only a minute earlier, but a minute of much needed beauty rest.

Okay, okay, calm yourself. I’ll just close my eyes and go back to bed until 12:37…

But now I’ve moved and can’t find that comfortable spot on the bed… and why are the sprinklers so fucking loud?

Okay, that felt like 6 hours and 3 minutes. What time is it now?

SIX FIFTY-FOUR A.M.? (That’s 6:54AM for you illiterate folk)

Fuck this, I want orange juice. Too bad we haven’t had juice for weeks (Elaine and Forrest can confirm this fact).

It shouldn’t be this easy to get out of bed this early. That’s just not right. Holy shit… am I the first one up in the whole house? Or did everyone just… disappear? I thought that parents were always awake before children. Maybe they’re all hiding downstairs… still no one.

Maybe they’re hiding in the fridge– OH MY GOD. Is that orange juice? Yes… I believe that is Naked Orange Juice.

Jeez, Britney Jean Spears is really on my side today.

I really feel like doing a crossword puzzle… too bad they don’t have any in the Sunday paper. I guess I’ll get the paper for the rest of the family though…

Jesus this paper if fat… okay put all the ads over there… what’s this? Obituaries? Aww look, there’s one for Farrah. I wonder if there’s a giant one for Michael? I’ll just turn the page– WTF???!!


My whole life I have looked for Sunday puzzles in the classifieds section.

Jesus, God just loves me today.

–The End–

Now that the story is over, I’ll tell you why Jesus loves me. Yesterday, I was due at a birthday party at La Jolla Shores around noon, aka the busiest time at the most touristy beach in San Diego. After getting off the 52, I was low on gas, stuck in backed-up traffic, and dreading the parking nightmare I was going to have to face after I filled up. A friend already told me that they had spent 25 minutes finding parking and that didn’t seem very appealing.

When I got to the station I looked at the price on the button and it was $3.375– “shit, gas has gotten really expensive!” I thought.

I started filling up and looked around the station– you know, what you do at the station when you have no one to talk to. Then I looked back at the pump…


But by then it was too late. I had filled up on Super when my ’97 Toyota only takes Unleaded. On top of that, I paid 38 more cents per gallon for it. The gas cap door said in giant bold letters, “UNLEADED FUEL ONLY”, and not knowing what the consequences of using non-unleaded fuel, I was afraid my car would explode.

I started the ignition… no explosion. But maybe it had to burn off the old fuel still left in the tank?

So then I began my quest for parking, in a car that could explode at any second. Obviously I wanted to find parking fast.

I spent 10 minutes in the surrounding streets because the parking lot looked full, but I gave up on that– no street parking whatsoever. So I dared to enter the parking lot. I didn’t find anything my first time around the lot, so I decided to go in for a second. The traffic was backed up all the down the aisles since people were stopping in the middle of the road, waiting for non-existant people to back out.

Desperate, scared, and lonely, I did something drastic.

I made a pact with Jesus.

I said, “Jesus, if you give me a parking spot, I’ll give you my life!”

Soon enough (it must’ve taken a minute or so for the message to get to Jeezy up in space), I saw lights come on from a car in a space.

“Oh my God, are they leaving??”

And lucky me, even though the aisle was backed up, I was in the perfect position to take the spot!

And that is why I sold my soul to Jesus and why I’ve been having such good luck today.

— Josh


Forrest Lighthart’s account of a near death-situation that he put Josh, him, and myself in.

Story coming soon. (Well, as soon as Forrest writes it and emails it to one of us).

We’re asking Forrest to write this post himself instead of just writing it ourselves because only he could explain what was going on in his mind when he made this dangerous desicion.

Thank Britney Spears that we made it out alive.


Dear Boshers,

I’m here to announce an exciting new opportunity for all of you!

Josh and Elaine want YOU, yes YOU talented folk, to audition for our new original musical, “BYE BYE BRITNEY”.

“Bye Bye Britney” is a musical inspired by “Bye Bye Birdie”, but modernized, dirtier, and set to the music of Britney Spears!

For more information visit our entire page dedicated to the audition notice!

Good luck and we hope to see you all at auditions July 6th!


Evil has a name and it is “Chili Peppers” [UPDATE]

Every once in a while, man encounters evil. It is only upon this encounter that man finally realizes the serious magnitude of evil.

Friends, family, and Boshers. I have encountered evil.

July 7th, according to this blog, marks the anniversary of Elaine and I’s discovery of Santana’s Mexican Grill. You could say July 7th is our Epiphany (which is an obscure Christian holiday that I only know about because it is celebrated in France by hiding a bean in a cake).

Not too long ago, Elaine, hartknight (this is not his exact real name), and I began a very mature facebook group called, “Santana’s is da SHIT!” in retaliation of another group’s proclamation that a local Mexican eatery called “Chili Peppers” was better than SMG.

Blasphemy. Pure blasphemy.

Unfortunately I had never actually eaten anything from this “Chili Peppers” place, so I wasn’t really fit to judge it.

That is why today (which is actually yesterday now that it is 1:35AM), Elaine and I decided that we were going to eat there.

We had been eyeing a rumored “popcorn chicken burrito” but saw no such thing on the menu. So I thought I would compare the California Burrito to SMG’s own famed California Burrito. How stupid was I? I should’ve taken little Jake Fineman’s touching testimonial to heart… this shocking  true story was left on the “Santana’s is the da SHIT!” wall:

“I have joined this group because I ate Chile Peppers last night and it gave me diarrhea, which has kind of turned me off.”

Poor little Jake Fineman.

My California Burrito was terrible. The tortilla wasn’t right. There was too much cheese and not enough tomato. The carne asada was dry and tasted and shredded apart like pork– which isn’t good since it’s supposed to be beef.

All was okay until about 6 hours later, when I started getting a mild upset stomach. I was over at hartknight’s house watching a movie and it didn’t bother me all night until I got home around 12:30AM. After a stool that felt like fire, I thought there was worse to come. Luckily, the burning shit was the worst of my condition… so far.

My stomach still does not feel completely right. I also had In-N-Out tonight, but I know it wasn’t it because my funny stomach started before I took a single bite of my burger.

I really am lucky for not getting diarrhea. Thank you Britney.

So please, PLEASE, do NOT eat at Chili Peppers! Don’t sell your stomach to the devil!

Here is my own little spell for casting away the Chili Pepper demons; use it well!

My stomach full of rotten burrito

Beseeches the elements of moon and water

To cast off the horror of rolled taquito

(even though taquito’s are really just small tacos in Spanish)

Calm stomach fire oh water!

Cool rectal burn oh moon!

And soothe the demons that I have bothered

By eating at Chili Peppers, a bafoon.


Just chant those words three times and any upset stomach or diarrhea you are experiencing because of Chili Peppers should go away!

Or you could just take some Pepto Bismol.

Be Wary!


P.S. Sorry this post was so graphic… Upton Sinclair didn’t leave out any details in The Jungle and look what it did for food safety.

UPDATE: I did get a little diarrhea last night. The waxing moon was not in my favor.

Summer Reading

I used to read all the time. In fourth grade me and only one other boy got to read The Chronicles of Narnia series while all the other kids had to read baby books because they were stupid.

In six grade I went through all of Peter Benchley’s graphic novels (and I don’t mean “graphic” as in comic books, I mean as in explicit violence, sex and cursing (which, in retrospect probably says a lot about me today, but I’m using this an an example of how much I used to read)).

In seventh grade I was all about the classics and read East of Eden and read and re-read The Red Pony.

In eighth grade I could only be bothered to do the required reading.

But once I got to high school…what was the point? The most I ever read at one time was an issue of CosmoGIRL! and sometimes even that had too many words. I think the only books that I read for pleasure throughout my high school career were Augusten Burroughs’ memoirs (albeit repeatedly. I think I’ve read them each three times). But intelectually, they’re not much of a stretch. And obviously, the required reading was way beyond anything I was willing to do.

But I’ve decided this summer that it’s time to start reading again. To quote the song that we were forced to learn in elementary school, “Reading is fun, and fundamental!”

So today I sat down with a book and ended up reading about 130 pages at once. And it felt pretty good. Granted, the book was Diablo Cody’s memoir about her life as a stripper, but still. It’s a bound set of typed pages which contain many words which form sentences. A bonafide book.

My original goal was to read three books this summer, one a month. But now that I’ve leanred that reading is fun (and fundamental!) I’m ready to read more.

Who wants to join my book club? So far I’ve got picked out Perfume: Story of Murderer (in hopes that the book is better than the already mind-blowing film), and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (to prepare for my life in Savannah, Georgia).

But before I get to the books with a slight amount of literally merit, I have to find out if Diablo will return to the classier strip bar, or if she’ll stay at the sleazier one, and if she’ll stay with Jonny. I still have a hundred pages left. I’ll finish it tomorrow.

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