slysneakyfox:

i want this

would you care if we matched?

Well I think the title says it all. When one thinks of the typical Polack (person of Polish heritage) they recall either a lack of intelligence and/or fair skin. I have not sunk too low in the brains department; however the gift of fair skin is something I have been cursed with. Sometimes I wish I was born in like the 16th century where being fat and pale was considered celeb status. However I would have to wear wigs, heavy dresses, and bathing was considered dousing yourself in powder… so I guess that’s the trade off. Being pale and from the Dirty Jerz is a little rough. Now with fist pumping and GTL, I feel like I have to acquire some other skin color besides white in order to pride NJ. Last summer when I was a Lifeguard I received the first real tan of my life. 30 SPF worn every day lead me to bronzed glory, but it was only the bottom half of my arms, legs, and face. The tan line made me look like a cowboy…and not like the cool Brokeback Mountain kind. So this summer after taking my job in the air-conditioned Disney Store I knew I was going to have to acquire some rays in other ways. (check out the rhyme, yo.) I deiced to purchase myself a Belmar Beach Badge. Unlimited beach access for an entire summer was sure to lead me to golden brown glory, right? Wrong. Burn turns into tan eventually right?

Devin on August 27th ;)

xoxo Besos

Well Tumblr. It’s been a while and truly I must apologize. I guess normally I would start off with some great excuse that I’ve been inexplicably busy and just lacked the proper time and energy to update…but in actuality I’ve just been lazy. I just tore myself away from a marathon of Jerseylicious and after I thawed my brain decided to update. Some cred must go to perhaps my most loyal blog reader Doug aka Choug. Follow him at Dig_Doug07 or something like that. If I knew I had a lot of followers I would actually check what his tumblr name is, but considering he’ll be probably the only one to actually read this blog I’ll consider my feeble attempt to promote him good enough…

So an update on my life. I have been living back in dirty jerz for over a month now. It has definitely been an adjustment. I’ve caught up on multiple crappy reality shows, gone to the beach, got a job. But it all seems so temporary. Like this is just where I go when I wait for school to begin, and I guess in actuality that’s what my house is now. It’s hard to believe time spent with some of my favorite people has not occurred in over 30 days. It seems like that batshit-crazy EPIC last night on campus was just yesterday. Now I know that these few words have perhaps peaked your interest, but honestly a synopsis of the night in words could simply never do it justice.  

I’ll just say that partying at the Frat House of the RA who literally JUST WROTE YOU UP and then stumbling back to MEGABED for drunken whispers and confessions was perhaps one of my favorite nights of college. Although I had to wake up and deal with repercussions in the morning (don’t we always) during that night it solidified in my mind that my freshman year of college had brought me some of the best friends I have ever had. I knew these people who belt out in the shower, gossip about classmates, meep like a snail, and make me laugh more than anyone else ever has will be in my life forever.

Wow this blog got deeper than expected…

but anyways, the climax of the night lead only to the sorrow of the next day. Move-Out. I am basically a self-proclaimed baby. I only live and hour from school, I’m and only child and I talk to my parents probably every other day. I was basically throwing up on move-in day at school, but I didn’t cry. On move-Out however it was a different story. After my massive amount of stuff was packed into the truck I bawled my eyes out all the way to the PA turnpike. Although I knew all my close friends would be returning next year, I just knew it would be different. We would never all live on the same hall or even the same building ever again. Sure we’ll always exchange a passing hello on campus, but we’ll never have the luxury of just poking our head in across the hall and the usual crazy antics that come with simply being neighbors or roommates with someone. And I guess that idea struck me harder than anything. Suddenly this blog is getting deep again and frankly I’m not good enough of a writer to be getting mixed up in this emotional stuff.

But considering I had to overnight my deposit to UC because of my indecisiveness as to where to attend school. I’m pretty sure I made the right choice ;)

Keep your eye on the blog for summer updates!

Well it may be hard to believe but my freshmen year of college is coming to close. As of next Tuesday I will be completed with my primary year of akward hookups, stressful work loads, and embarrassing drinking stories. When I think of myself a year ago today I had no clue that in the future I would have had as much of a blast as I did as an underclassmen. I met interesting sooooo many interesting people who with multiple talents wheter it be singing in the shower, palm readings,playing lacrosse, or riding unicylces. But technically my year is not over…so this is not yet the blog post where I become overly sympathetic. (Stay tuned for updates.)

What I really wanted to brag about tell my loyal blog readers, was my most recent brush with fame. Does “the boy who lived” ring a bell? That’s right I had my second encounter with the boy wizard himself, Harry Potter. The first time I had met DanRad was after seeing his debut on Broadway in Equus. The plot of that play was literally the wierdest and most difficult to follow ,which was hard enough (that’s what she said) to focus on when you were anxiously awaiting HP to bare his “wand.” So after my friends and I were scarred by exposed to a naked English movie star bounding across the stage butt naked, we bolted out to the gate to see him come out the stage door. Basically all that went down was a starstruck “hi you were amazing.” Good one Devin, I’m sure hes never heard that one before…

However take 2 DanRad encounter went a bit more smoothly. My lovely roommates and I ventured into the Big Apple to view Harry’s second show on Broadway entitiled How to Suceed in Business without Really Trying. Although he was not in his birthday suit for this performance it was equally if not more exciting than Equus. I understood what the basic premise of the play was and in actuality it was pretty catchy and funny. After gawking at Harry Potter dancing and singing on stage for a little over two hours, I was pretty sure my life was complete. Next thing I knew we were recieveing passes outside the stage door, my roommates cousin was also in the show so he got us backstage. After taking some pictures with the sets and talking to my roommates cousin we were walking up a set of stair and I turned to my right and there was an outstretched hand. Attached to that hand was the body of Daniel Radcliffe. I was basically about to explode in complete shock. We were now standing in the dressing room of “The Boy Who Lived” the kid who I had loved since I was 11. Honestly I was surprised I hadn’t blurted out some obsecneity and instead reached out my hand in return. “Hi Devin, nice to meet you.” were the first words he said and although it was a pretty standard and generic greeting I pretty much could have killed myself. He personalized our autographed posters and was geniunly a nice guy, asking us questions and answering our questions in return. We posed for a picture which will remind me for entirnity that…

 A. I am pissed I didn’t get to stand next to him

and

B. That’s okay becasue it would only have magnified tha alarming height difference.

In the shock of everything I said very little, but considering I still cannot believe it happened makes me proud I didn’t burst into tears at the mear fact that I was in his presence. After we left and he repeated all of our names, we found it impressive, we continued our backstage tour. I was honestly one of the coolest and most stunnah celebrity expiriences of my life. I look forward to becoming famous enough by doing something that will allow me that treatment for the rest of my life… But until them I’ll just have to stare at our picture together and expect dream of even more encounters in the future… 

Expelliarmous, bitches.

Best Roomiez Ever…can I live in Curtis 101 forever?

Dated’s are a time honored tradition at Ursinus College. The basic summary of this event is for $20 per person, or $35 per couple you can both literally and figuratively swim in beer. How this could possibly be legal, I will never understand. The attire requires you to dress up, because lets face it what isn’t classy about downing pitchers and playing pong in heels? Once dressed to impress you board a bright yellow school bus (once again, pure class) for a 15 minute to a obscure fire hall. On the bus I wondered what the firefighters would think of a bunch of underage college students looking to get drunk blackout, but apparently they didn’t think much. The firemen were manning the bar, refilling pitchers and bringing new ones to the table if they were empty. Making it a personal goal to get my friends drunk, I took it upon myself to top off everyone’s glass and let me just say, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. The crew played a couple rounds of beer pong, which we were terrible at. You would think being a basketball player would give me some skills, but this was simply not the case. Not only did my team lose twice, but our one win was because the game had gone on so long the other team gave up. After I was feeling sufficiently tips I decided it would be a good idea to start hitting the dance floor. Before I set down my things on a dirty folding chair I checked my phone, noted an email that some sorority would be selling pretzels in the library on Monday and that the time was currently 9:26…

Obviously I was ahead of schedule when it came to the amount of alcohol in my system in proportion to the time of night. However lacking focus, and the mental ability to care how early it was I encouraged everyone to bust a move. Unfortunately people thought it appropriate to double fist on the dance floor with pitchers. I’m not the most coordinated person in the world, but when you add beer both in my system and on the floor it means one thing…faceplant.

After a few tumbles, and a few gem pictures we would learn to regret were taken..

the night came to a close. The firemen filed us out of the hall (probably eager to finish off the kegs themselves) and we boarded the bus to get home. Another successful weekend comes to a close, but the blurred memories and hangover will seem to last forever.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Love Jennie Royal:

10. Her random obsessions, that I soon become equally obsessed with, but are so quickly forgotten or changed that by the time I become a fan of it, the subject is irrelevant.

9. Her musical and cinematic knowledge and references make me wonder if I know anything about pop culture at all.

8. She’s a free bitch baby.

7. Literally millions of weirdos and creeps obsess over her, but I’m the only person she’s obsessed with.

6. We’re the best concert buddies. Hitting the same pitch on every woooooooo, so as to properly attract the attention of a a smokin hot famous person.

5. That shes such a teacher’s pet, i get all the reciprocal teach love.

4. Jennie Royal will be famous some day, and therefore I will get to attend all her high-class functions as a member of her entourage.

3. We’ve made it a habit to sing Paradise by the Dashboard Light by Meatloaf on the stereo every time we’re in the car together.

2. She has hand’s down the fiercest clothes, shoes, jewelry and accessories of any chick I know. I dream to be as fierce/hipster/fabulous as she is.

1. She’s my best friend sister and I love her <3

wismer hall you’ve got some nerve.

Although my title may pay homage to The King and I, this blog is dedicated to the VVA production of the Sound of Music. This past weekend I went back to the 609 to see my old High School’s production of the timeless classic. I was never exactly the star of a Villa productions, but I did debut my acting abilities as French Man 3 in Beauty and the Beast and the flying cow who gets sucked up in the Tornado in Wizard of Oz. Yes it is sometimes a burden being so famous. Considering I had a history on stage I was thrilled to return and see the show. Initially I had grand plans to show all my former teachers and class mates how good I looked, and try to mask the reality that is the Freshmen 15. But traffic on the turnpike thwarted them. Unpainted nails, greasy hair and worn off make-up were all I had to go on, but luckily my vibrant personality overshadowed my unfortunate appearance ;)

On of my secret ambitions is to have a really cultural side of myself. Overtime I’ve developed it by trying to appreciate art, reading books my friend Jennie recommended for me, and going to performances. Even here at Ursinus, my roommates and I always go to the various dance productions or acting pieces. Of all these things I have to admit I love going to plays the most. My dedication to theater can be proven by the fact that I actually cried wept when I went and saw The Lion King on Broadway. And no not at the part when Mufasa dies, because that would be totally understandable, but the opening scene. Yeah I know, you don’t have to say it. But although SOM did not bring me to tears, it was still FABULOUS.

Equally fabulous was returning back to my alma mater, seeing old classmates. Especially when it’s someone you didn’t see eye to eye with in high school. The idea of the class reunion has always been seen one where you show off and maybe tell a white (or yellow, or orange) lie to make yourself feel better. I ran into a particularly old enemy at intermission. Trying to remain cultured and civil (you know I’m working on that) I decided to be nice, and try and find some dirt about her life that I could gossip about later.

You’re a salty salty snail.