John Likes Grass... the blue kind.

Ok, so last weekend my lovely lady and I took our Dads up into the mountains for Fathers Day. We thought it'd be a nice relaxing getaway for them, with each of their oldest offspring. What mountains, you say?! Why the Poconos, of course! You know... the place where you can't walk 5 feet without bumping into a beer distibutor or a cheap mini-golf course. Oh, and yes, terrorists train there sometimes...

Anyway, great weekend. We took up the coon hound, some beers, a little meat, a few lawn chairs... I know it sounds like the prop list from 'Deliverance' but hey, it's the bare essentials up there! All that was missing was a banjo. Well... did we ever stumble upon the mecca of banjos- a freakin Bluegrass Festival! That's right, pack your plaid and leave the earplugs at home. And don't you dare forget your cooler! We's a goin' to the Great Pocono Bluegrass Festival, nah.

Well, we went, and who do you think I stumbled upon there? Go ahead... just guess...

Bela Fleck?! Nope. Lindsay Buckingham? Uh uh. The cast of Good Times?! Pfff.


Well, here's a hint...

Still like "Wha?! Intern Dave, you crazy. What the crap are you talkin about??"

OK. Let's zoom up a bit on the action... maybe you were distracted by Mount Fest (which, unfortunately, wasn't what you think)

NOW look!

You see?! Caught red-handed! Yes, that's him. JDB himself, the purveyor of classic rock- on a freakin upright bass, playin' a bluegrass festival! Are you freakin out like I was?!

No, I was not hallucinating (even though it does say grass fest behind him). The camera does not lie!

You still need further proof?! Hey. Whatever. Case is closed after this one... when you wake up tomorrow and hear "Dueling Banjos" instead of "Night Moves" don't say I didn't warn you!

Cover blown:




Notice the coloration of cheeks, due to the knowledge that his secret life of banjo-loving, upright bass slapping and Yee-haw yellin' days were now exposed! That's what he gets for making me drink toilet water. Intern revenge, at its finest. I rest my case.

Outbreak!

Well one thing's for sure, in radio, sickness abounds. Yes, in more ways than one, and yup, in that five-people-herded-into-the-same-small-studio kinda way. John was feeling the heat (or rather the cold) today, as I was last week. Go Go was sick before that, but that's just cause he quit coffee. Jen was sick too. I think. Wait... No, she just got pissed cause John said size 14 was fat. And that giant?! Ha! Well... he just likes to see sick. As in, me do things... that are sick. So then he can laugh. At me. A-hole.

But honestly, holy God I was weezin, sneezin and everything in ...betweezin last week. Pfff. Did I just write that? I did. Ok. Go ahead, Snoop, just... take it. Anyway, my allergies have been worse than ever this year. And we dont have many tissues in our apartment, if any. Do Downey rolls count? I don't think you start buying tissues til you have kids. So all last week I was just sending massive torrents of micro-spray into the apartment atmosphere. Picture a Skittles commercial, only replace the rainbow shower with my mucus. That was my Northeast habitat last week.

Are you enjoying this, Brian?! Hope so, buddy!

So yes, it's been rough... but we don't take any crap from anybody- including our noses! So I been takin my multi-vitamin, a lil Sudafed, a lil more Sudafed... some Benadryl... you know, just being mindful and responsible about it. That and I read recently that a sneeze causes the sensation of 1/8th of an orgasm. You heard right! I read it, it must be true. So by that calculation... which, by the way, how does one measure that you experience "0.125" of a sexual climax, anyway? And who are these horny math geeks?! ...but by that estimation, I, Intern Dave, had about 89 big O's last week!

Now that's lookin' at the brightside.

Intern Insight...

Well they tried again, and I had to strike down yet another attempt at Intern intellect! Today I unleashed a forceful blow of mindpower to the listeners of the DeBellaware Valley... and as it stands: ID-2, General Pop.-0! Perhaps it should be "IQ"...hmmm... eh, I'll wait til 3 in a row. Then I'll make the switch. Yes, I, Intern Dave prevailed once again this morning; hard to believe for some, easy to understand for others.

And if you are sitting there saying "Ha! This kid's a real piece of work... brains my ass... after that Yoohoo answer. Puh!" Well, all I have to say to you is... "like a cat with a mouse". I'm toyin' just with 'em! Gotta make it dramatic, why not give the listener a head start?!

Actually, ok, maybe you have a point. I want to come clean. So to give you a clearer picture of what goes on in my mind, I dug up a specialized miniature super-camera snapshot that was taken during a personal neurological exam. This is actual footage of what is happening in my mind at all times...

Yes, a fusion of genius in a stormtrooper outfit, balanced with a little not-so-genius, some say "delightfully absent-minded" mix, all being monitored by a small Asian man in my frontal lobe. Welcome to my world. It's really not that bad...

Anyway, what can I say? All I know is the Phillies keep winning when I do... and they are playing the Royals next week. So PLEASE, just try me! I'm right here waiting!

Don't forget to wear your sunblock. Peace.

May Daze

I gotta check my horoscope... just to get confirmation that this week was supposed to be as crazed as it was for me. Sometimes life outside of the studio is just as, if not more bonkers than all the shennanigans that go on over the air.

Hmmm. But let's see... on Tuesday I had my unprecedented man-on-the-street interview assignment with America's newswoman. Good ol' Katie Couric. What did the stars have in store then?

"Overview:'Let the good times roll' is your motto -- and when other people see how well you're doing with it, they'll want to join in on the fun. How convenient! 'The more, the merrier' happens to be your back-up motto right now."

Well there definitely were people joining in on the fun... if you count Katie-holics, angry husbands and homeless people! That's pretty on point. Oh, by the way, here's some action shots from the big night...
Now how could she not talk to me when I mean business like that. See what I'm sayin?! Yeah?? Good. Anyway I deployed many tactics throughout the night...

Notice the adoring young woman, staring in adoration of my journalistic prowess and determination. Either that or my boxers sticking out. But that was on purpose as well! You've heard those attraction to younger men rumors with Ms. Couric, oh yes...


And there she is, right before I struck. Yeah, that smile didn't last for long... Sorry to all the fans whose toes I stepped on and whose kids I may have shoved aside. Truly, deeply, I apologize. All in the name of the scoop. Anyway the mission was accomplished! Alicia Lane, I'm comin' for you next. Be prepared. Be scared.

Time to Strip Again...

Only this time there will be no broadcast, no video (sorry, ladies), alas... not even a mere casual observer. At least I think so. We'll see... the girlfriend and I are headed to the good ol' Jersey shore this afternoon! It's summer as far as we're concerned. As long as we can weather the thunderstorms and massive brushfires, we should be headed for the paradise of Lavallette, NJ. The destination where tourists are endangered species (or so I've heard). Let's just say I'm hoping to relax and catch a tan through the cloudy skies, without hearing 'Dance Dance Revolution' in the background.

Yes, the newly unemployed girlfriend and I will be reminiscing about the days of old... like last Thursday. The phonecalls. The databases. The shiny new coffeepot and the way it filled up our cubicles... Aaahhhh. Whatever happened to those days?!

THEY'RE GONE! And we just got to celebrate. Not even a week's anniversary... but we can't help it. Screw the dole, we are on the beach. So I am looking forward to that very much. What do you think, hot pants? Should I bust them out again? I don't think I have swimming trunks in Philly. Just gym shorts. Eh, it's Jersey, who gives one...

If Billy Joel can talk about weekends at the Jersey shore, I aint' worried about what I look like there. Just give me a quiet, needle-less beach and an ounce of sun. I'll be smiling. Oh, I'll also be smiling if my car makes it both ways. Yeah, that would be cool too.

I'm off to find a decent 6-pack.

An Intern's Commencement Address...

Loyal listeners, especially of the 21-25 yr ols demographic... you may have heard The John DeBella Show's own, Giant Brian, proclaim his wisdom on life after college today. I found it to be a rather noble and honest opinion piece on the life and times of the college grad.

I would like to further the discussion and offer my somewhat wet-behind-the-ears experience into the world of "post-degree". My advice? Take that bachelor's degree. I know, looks like a high school diploma. Hmmm... feels like a high school diploma. Well, you know the old adage- then it is the equivalent of a high school diploma!

Is it?! I don't know. I haven't really made myself too visible yet in the job-seeker pool. Can you believe I actually enjoy all the abuse here?! I guess I do. That and hugs from Brian. They make it all worth while. But can I get a witness?! College is the new high school, and finding a good entry-level job is about as easy as finding good entry to the Playboy Mansion. But I have been supplementing the money MGK pays me to strip, with various odd-jobs round the town...

And this week, I am happy to announce that I have once again stripped ...myself of my one and only CRAP job! Let's call it my "Sanjaya" gig- the one that started with some promise, a little hype and excitement, only to peak really early... and just cling there... and become burdensome, then loathsome, then disgraceful, then somebody hide my gun!

Well, I am happy and proud, bursting with excitement and freedom actually... to say that #2 part-time job, my market research gig, let's call it "Sanjaya and Associates" HAS BEEN VOTED OFF! And there won't be any work for him to follow... no coat-tails to hold on to. Sorry, your Idol Tour has been cancelled. Indefinitely.

Let's just say when John says "Don't take any crap from anybody," his intern listens.

Man-Maid?!

Yeah... not so much. I hope! Look, I love mothers as much as the next good son. I'm the oldest of 5- got nothin' but love, respect and adoration! But if I dress up like whatever freak y'all are voting on, I'm gonna lose all love. Respect. Adoration. ...Heterosexuality (which I happen to enjoy very much!)

So all you "kinks" out in DeBellaware Valley- 'Vote or Die' does not apply here. But if you must! Just remember... Brian wants maid and he is always wrong! In fact, after some internet research, I discovered that HE, in fact, has once donned the maid garb... witness!



Pink booty shorts or whatever the other crap candidate is will NOT be touching my skinny little white ass either, so let's just stop with the voyeuristic fantasies, shall we? Thank you. Don't even make me dig up pictures of that to deter you. In fact, here's an idea- start a petition for me. I know there's some 'Dave' fans out there, right?! And I don't mean the hippie frat-band guy. I'm talkin' routers for the underdog, the oppressed?! Well, here's your man. Right here. Help a brotha out! I am your Philadelphia Phillies, your Barbaro. If I gotta clean in one of these get-ups, you might as well break my leg and send me get well cards.


Think of my Mother then! Show some brotherly love for Christ's (and my) sake!

Check Engine... or else.

Well I know, I've become somewhat blog-slacker as of late. I admit it. There's a lot more goin though! Sometimes the memoir's gotta be the sacrificial lamb for churning out one amazing show after another. Dig?! Good...

Yes, a lot going on these days. More responsibilities on the show, in life! I wish John had Brian take that Bazooka bat to my car last week instead of me- it might have gotten my "Check Engine" light to shut off, and I coulda passed inspection! Unfortunately yesterday, I had to dip my hand deeper into my pockets than I did my face in mayo. And it was just to pay off a garage to tell me I failed inspection AND emissions!

Thanks, Tom (and fellow grease monkeys). I'm happy to dish out $95 for you to look at my tires and say 3 are shabby, and see that my check engine light is on. That's a sweet lil' pay-to-fail racket you got yourselves there- I'm in the wrong business! Good thing you're not my dentist... "Smile. Teeth could be whitened... 200 dollars, please." Or my landlord... "Your grass cutting sucks- rent's doubled!" Maybe my college professor... "Your thesis is a piece of shit- give me 50 bucks. Now."

God almighty. How does any car pass inspection?! Have you ever seen ANY car, made before 1998, that HASN'T had that stupid light on?>! I freakin' hate that light, man. That God-forsaken little orange turd that blinks... that obnoxious, money-costing, good-for-nothing, fear-mongering, choad sentence that now haunts me EVERY TIME I SIT BEHIND THE WHEEL!

Let this be a lesson to you, DeBella fans... don't let that little light stare you down much longer! It will get you. I don't care if you have to crawl up into the hood, inside your car, fore-arm deep in a jungle of twisted metal, gears and boiling oil... shut that damn light off!

Mazeltov!

I think that's how you write it. Cut me some slack! I just said it, yelled it, for the first time yesterday. And boy did it feel good! My first Jewish wedding. All I gotta say is, let's call a spade a spade- it's a bigass party.

The food, the people, the Hebrew... 'Grannies Gone Wild' on the dance floor... Enough wine to hold world-wide communion... pretty wild stuff. I'm a simple Gentile! Not privy to this stuff! I felt like a stranger at a Sopranos family reunion, only with smaller food portions and no pervading fear of losing my life. Pretty rowdy stuff though, for Sunday night.

But I made it to work today! I know some other fellow attendees will be succumbing to "the morning after" disease. It's ok- there's a cure! Water. Sleep. And... more sleep. Pretty sweet cure, I know.

Anyway, when I get home today perhaps I'll dig up a picture to post from my momentous, unprecedented experience. I'm easy to spot- the white guy without the yarmulka!

And yes, I had to look that up. And it is really spelled like that.

Mazeltov!

Craving Some Pastime

With Bill Giles in the other day and this current 5 game winning streak, I gotta admit... I am in desperate need of a Phillie fix! And not the kind you can find on a corner in Germantown. I gotta get me an ice cold beer, a warm Spring day and a decent seat at Citizen's Bank!

I'm feeling like a fake fan lately. Now 20 games into the marathon otherwise known as a baseball season... what are they, I guess 12% done?! Unacceptable. I deserve a fastball to the groin. Thrown by Randy Johnson... after he discovers his wife has been cheating on him. I'm ashamed! If John Kruk found about this, he would teabag me. And I would still be able to see out of one eye. So I guess that's where the Randy Johnson fastball should go!

Ugh, don't take after me true Phillie fans! Get your asses out to the park. Go today, go now! Tailgate, drink, chant, cheer, throw things, yell TO Sucks, whatever! And look for John, Jen and/or Brian today and realize I am there too... in spirit. My heart is in it. I just don't have any stubs. Soon! Payday is tomorrow. I'm coming for you "Flash"! I love you Chase! I want you Charlie! Oh wait...

Is that SUN?!

It is. It was. How sweet is nice weather?! Everyone is in a good mood... the Phils start winning... I even saw a pigeon sharing a street bagel with stray cat. But that was on 4-20. Probably the heat!

Anyway, I stayed in Philly the whole weekend. Truly a rarity, at least in this intern's life. Seeing as how practically everyone I know from college has moved out (back home, mostly). AND both mine and the girlfriend's kin reside in the Lehigh Valley (NOT the Poconos, as John swears!) we end up going home most weekends. But not this time!

Yesterday we might as well have been down in A.C. You coulda caught us two honkies, we were brightening up our Northeast neighborhood in the "backyard," which in reality is a 5 x 15 plot of concrete surrounded by chain-link fence. Nevertheless, we made it our beach as we layed out on our slick new Kmart loungers. We had Scrabble out, our sun tan lotion, wine... basically an unprecedented showing of whiteness in the nieghborhood. And it was heaven!

Until my skin started to peel. But hey, it's NICE! Who cares?!? I WANNA BURN!

Go outside.

2 Week Hiatus?! Well...

I apologize, loyal intern-supporters! Supporter? Anyone?! Got-damn. I hope someone is still out there... I feel like I'm back out in the Noreaster! Alone, adrift. Only this time it's cause I slacked. Well- I'm back like Don Imus. Oh wait...

In case you were worried, I was allowed back in, off my cutting-edge weather post. Jen was getting pissed- I was infringing on her show territory! At least that's what Giant Brian told me. So it's probably not true.

Anyway, I checked and it's been 2 weeks since I told intern tales. And those were not 2 weeks paid vacation- to quote Aerosmith and your middle school crush, "DREAM ON!" A lot has happened in the inter(n)rum... mainly, a lot of rock n roll... both at the station, at home jamming with friends, and out on the Philly rock scene. A lotta shows comin up for me and my gal, including last nights's Electric Factory pummeling by Sevendust.

Do yourself a favor before you die. The next time you're mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore?! Get yourself a Sevendust ticket. Go early. Get a spot as close to the drum set as possible. Remain patient through the ear-drum rape otherwise known as the opening acts. Or, build your anger for the release you will get once Morgan and co. take the stage. Once the lights dim, direct your attention to the floating armada that makes up Morgan Rose's drum kit, pump fist in the air and commence the ROCK. He will not disappoint! Forget the feng shui office with a shrinky-dink mulling your problems. Watching this guy bash his kit in for an hour and a half is my therapy! It's a freaking rush and a half. Picture watching a manic octopus of rock battling for his life! Yes, octopi have been known to give the finger. A lot.

...just take me up on it. You will understand. You will love it. Your wife will shake her head.

Spring Sprung

I know I said I'd continue my movie rental battle of the sexes, but I'm putting it off until I go to "the Block" tonight. My girlfriend has been fixated on this "Pursuit of Happyness". And that's how they spelled it, and no I don't have any idea why. But yeah, it's the father-son, cutesy shmutsey bonding flick with Will Smith and his son. She doesn't get it. I'll go appreciate something like that when I have rugrats of my own. Until then, I only wanna see Will Smith shoot at robots, thank you very much. If I'm pursuing happIness, I'm going to the 'Action' or 'Horror' section, not a sappy "just the two of us" melodrama. Pardon my inner guy.

And I know, Will Smith is Philly-boy turned good and all but come on! At least romantic comedies have babes and keen insights as to how females work. Some redeeming, useful qualities! I have a great dad. I don't need to pursue happyness with the Fresh Prince.

But anyway... what do I wanna talk about. The weather. Thank the Lord this crap came down today and not yesterday! If you heard the drama of "Deadliest Schkuykil Catch" play out, you'll know what I'm talkin' about. Had it been coming down yesterday like today, I mighta been getting rescued by the Penn row team. Gotta say though, it was quite the expedition. Be ready for more tours of duty in the future...

I gotsta run. Put the cell phone down and turn your wipers on. Thank you all, goodnight.

Battle of the Sexes

There's one scenario that every guy goes through in life. Every guy with a girlfriend, that is. I don't care how weird the couple, how offbeat or unique the pairing is- at some point you two are going to be pacing the aisles of Blockbuster together, engaging inTinseltown tug-o-war.

Just admit it. It's bound to happen. Visiting the videostore together is like trying to buy a car at a lot that sells pick-up trucks and sporty 2-door coupes. Compromise is an endangered species. You might as well be lawyers at trial, defending your client. In most cases, mine is Steven Segall and/or Bruce Willis. And they are always guilty- of kicking ass! More commonly referred to as the case of Mr. Action-horror flick vs. Sappy Drama-Romantic comedy (notice the emphasis). A case more common than custody.

Everyone has this problem. Couples simply cannot decide on a movie! It does not happen. Tell me the last time you did the old A to Z strut and had more than one flick in your hand. More than one flick that would be approved. Ah hah! There-in lies the catch, old boys. It's on the 2nd tour that things start getting sorted out...

I will continue the diagnosis after this weekend. Further research must be gathered to state my case. Court adjourned!

White Man Can't Jam?

A very popular sentiment. Truth? Myth? Just plain hate?! Well, while "jump" may be true, I beg to differ when it comes to jam. I'm bringing this up cause I discovered something amazing this past week. My favorite jam spot did NOT go quietly into the night as I thought!

Ever gone to Warmdaddy's? Check it out. Especially if you wield an axe and dig babybacks. OHH! I'll be here all night. Guitars and ribs, if you are completely lost. No, honestly, this place was one of my favorite Philly haunts since my freshman year at Temple. And when I moved back from New York- vacant! I thought it hit hard times, but never wanted to believe the hottest open mic in town bit the dust. Apparently it hasn't! My girl caught a glipse of it in her peripheral vision the other night, while cruising about town. I looked it up. She lives! Well, the warm daddy lives, and no he isn't a brothel or a strip club. Just straight up soul- food and music. That sums it up.

So next week- it's back to the old open mic night! Gotta brush up on my B.B.King and Otis Redding tunes... If you see me up there, hold off on the tomatoes. It's been a while!

Crap, I'm Below 'E'...

So yesterday I realized something. I don't know if it was an epiphany, or just a sad, sad wake up call. I am nothing without technology. Completely inept. Worthless! I was late for the show and went back to get my wallet... then hopped on the Blvd and realized i had forgotten my GPS unit as well. All good... I can get to the station with my eyes closed. It practically is that dark at 530am anyway.

But I got drum lessons afterward, in the suburbs. Oh God. Woods, windy roads, gated communities and golf courses. Only soccer moms at my disposal for directions. OK! That's where I should have "thrown in the towel", excuse the lame pun. But honestly, breaking down would have gotten me less lost than I did thinking I could figure it OUT! I ended up calling the gal to mapquest my way out of suburban hell over the phone.

So next thing, I'm stuck in Philly's 4:30 rush hour on the Schuykill. Oh, look! My gas needle decided to take a nose dive below the little orange landing strip! Jesus, I don't even have anything white, or clothy to hang out the window. Does a blue t-shirt/ oil rag work?? Will that count?! I'm gonna get towed! I'm gonna be out of gas AND paying Lew Blum $250 to get my wagon back. Damn you, technology, you've rendered me useless!

So what happened? I desperately got off Route 1, got lost in the ghetto of Germantown searching for gas. NO ONE drives in Germantown! It's a Septa mecca. I think I passed 24 bus stops before I saw what could be a ghetto mirage. I did 3 miles on fumes to finally stumble into a Hess where I would have gotten crack cheaper than a gallon of gas. And I almost did!

Ok, my point?! Don't forget your damn navigation system. Don't forget to fill up. Don't turn off Route 1 until at least Broad St. Thank me later...

"2 Irish Car Bombs"

There was a lot of that this weekend! It was a travelling circus back home in Allentown... yeah, the town with Dorney Park and that Billy Joel song. And the people that drive like Billy Joel. With the same levels of blood-alcohol. Without the same supermodel girlfriends.

We went out on the suddenly annual St. Patty's bar tour of A-town. A mixture of cheap dives, pretentious Irish Pubs, and people you haven't seen since hitting puberty. And those car bombs, of course! My dad even offered to pick us up later. I almost forgot we weren't going to sneak into rated-R movies! But as for my dad- good samaritan? Or vicarious pop tryin to catch a glipse of drunk college chicks. Hmmm. In any case, we didn't need him.

I called the attention of a 2-foot Wawa hoagie instead, which soaked up my potbelly of Irish beverage (not Shamrock shakes). And my very hangover-free Sunday morning benefitted as well from this 24 inches of glory. Oh, stop it! I was worried though, walking out of Wawa with this cardboard sniper rifle case. It payed off. We ate. We drank. It was merry.

Now take your damn kilt off!

Craigslist Addiction

So there's this list, goes by the name of Craig. Perhaps you've heard of it. I am personally indebted to it. I am gay for it, for Craig, and his online list. I admit it! I found my apartment, my jobs, furniture, entertainment, electronics... everything this year! I have more Craigslist paraphenalia than newly-weds have IKEA. It's that serious.

And yesterday I finally got the last 2 things I've been desiring- Playstation 2 and a love seat. Not necessarily in that order. Not necessarily to compliment one another! But they came within 24 hours of each other, and now I feel complete. They were the last things I've been on the prowl for since moving into my own place again, here in the city of brotherly love. And what brotherly love it is, to have one huge-ass garage sale online and live off each other's crap they don't want anymore! I embrace it. This whole future things is pretty alright.

So looks like it's back to reading about foot fetish parties and sperm donor ads. Craigslist, much like America is a melting pot of all aspects and walks of life! Just watch out for Nigerian wire scams. Oh, and the get rich quick schemes. You want to get rich quick? Rob a bank. Don't lick envelopes. As for me, my apartment is finally complete. And I don't give myself one week before I'm e-mailing somebody else about their junk!

Happy surfing.

Get Out My Way!

One week shoveling snow off your car, the next running around in a speedo. Welcome to Philly! Yesterday freaked me out a little. Outside I went from a jacket, to hoody, to long-sleeve, to t-shirt in a matter of 5 minutes. The last time that happened I was in college, sipping a 40 and holding cards.

But, alas, yesterday was not fun and games (just on the show). The rest of my day was a living hell on the roadways. See, rush hour sucks in Philly, but you add nice weather to rush hour? People can't wait to get in a gridlock! I'm sure of it, I'm telling you, people use nice weather just to get their lazy asses out of the house. Even if they have nowhere to go! OR NO PLAN! "Oh God, it's amazing outside, I gotta hop in my car and join the orgy on 76. The wife can't argue with that!" I swear, people don't just hangout and bike to the park anymore. It's beautiful out- time to hit the mall! What a nice day, perfect for a doctor visit!

So here's my advice, Philadelphians and other tri-staters: the next time nice weather kicks in here- experience it without the sun hitting you through a huge pane of glass. Or through the mall skylight. I don't care if you are one of those twenty-something runner dweebs that has to keep running in place at stoplights! I'll still hate you- but at least you won't be taking up space on the roadways! You'll just risk getting hit on them.

Which, could be a great thing as well. Time to hit the road...

It's been a minute...

but I'm back like your psycho ex-girlfriend! And better looking, most likely! Hope y'all classic rockers have been well, and are enjoying this lovely Spring that seems to have sprung... like Go Go at a-- ok, enough with the similes! You'll have to excuse me, I'm excited to be back at the station, back in my cubicle, spilling the intern beans as usual. They're 'Goya', if you're curious.

And what beans I have to spill! Actually, not really... not much has gone down since I left, just my heating bill. I contemplated getting Police tickets, but then realized I already got two this year and can't afford anymore. *knee slap* Now you see why my jokes come off the air...

But seriously, I really did contemplate going to see Sting and the gang rock Citizen's Bank Park. But really the only time I'd pay hundreds of dollars to see the police on the Phillies baseball field is when fans storm it after a World Series win! Which is going to happen later this year anyway. Patience is my virtue.

So until then, I will sit back, enjoy the nice warm weather and watch the Phils from my $20 seat. If I'm lucky I'll catch 'Sendin Out an S.O.S.' over the PA system, when opposing teams face bases jammed and none out. I'll take that!

I'll see ya at Dollar Dog Day.

And the verdict is...

Guilty... of being hosed by the city of Philadelphia. As you may know, I had my big traffic court date last night. The trial of the century, yeah, that's the one. Well, I get there ready to kiss judicial ass, in the rain, it's 9 at night, I'm walking around a desolate Spring Garden St, you get the picture. Then it dawns on me... "Dave, get your wet ass back in your car. Court is adjourned." AS IN THEY WERE COMPLETELY CLOSED!

I should have known, after the 8 spelling mistakes on my ticket... yeah, that court date? Probably about as legit as any phone number I got in early high school. But I fell for it! Looks like ol' Milton aint the only one with tricks up his sleeve! You got me, Johnny Street!

Let's see: pulled over questionably, a ticket ridden with mistakes, pay a huge fine, and a fraud court date. Where am I, Mexico?! It's in situations like these where you just gotta say...

Milton for Mayor!

I'm outta here. I need this vacation. If anybody finds a judge, tell them to call me!

Traffic Court

That's where I'm headed tonight. Second time in my life I'm heading to see a judge. First time? I was playing drums. My neighbors weren't fans. *wa la* Civil case! This time? I was escaping a monster accordian on wheels. Local cops weren't clued in to that. *presto* Traffic court!

Yes, tonight will be the case of "Septa/Philadelphia Police Dept vs. part-time delivery dude". Start your underdog chant now, got it?? As of right now, the spread is Septa/PPD - $125, Intern Dave + 3 license points. Oddsmakers are saying the city will probably cover the spread, and retain the money they "earned", while the points Dave incurred will probably be lost, after he challenges the play. Points, afterall, are frivilous, since the city can't make money off them- an important point many betters are taking into account.

So make your bets before 9:00 tonight! I'll be back tomorrow (I hope) with a breakdown of all the action. Much love,

Defendant Dave

Hung Like King Tut

Well we didn't have Indiana Jones in-studio today, or the "Boy King" himself, but our buddy Mark did spark my interest in the ongoing slice of history at the Franklin Institute. Apparently this Egypt place was much more than a failed nightclub on Delaware Ave! I gotta go check this out, I mean this Tut exhibit seems pretty badass. And as for the Institute itself, I have never been! And I pretend to like history. Scoff at me. Please, do it.

Ahhh, much better. Vindicated. Anyway yeah, so I think I'm gonna go! A real favorite of girlfriends everywhere: a history date!

"Hey, sweetie? I was thinkin... we should probably go out this weekend. I wanna take you to the city..."

"Ooooh! What restaurant?! The new Stephen Starr?! There's this great new club that opened in olde City, I been needing to shop anyway, hey can we stop--"

"Actually I was thinking about a decomposing grave exhibit"

Try that one on for size. Works like a charm. No, actually, I'm a lucky dude cause my girl's been begging to hit up the old Franklin Institute. We'll see when we can score free passes, then I'll tell ya all about it. Until then, I'll be working on my chin-goatee.

Peace in the Tut-free Middle East!

Weekend Shenanigans

It was a decent time this weekend... celebrating graduation with tons of fam/ friends in the snow. We had all kinds of food, spirits... sleds to entertain the masses (in that order). My Grandparents even showed up and hung out, God Bless'em, at 81 and 85! They were walking around better and straighter than me by night's end.

But it was a great time. Who needs volleyball and horseshoes when you have winter combined with a 100 yard BACK yard?! Sloped with an icy coating and frozen-solid finish-line pond. That was the VIP area by mid-party. As in "Very Idiotic Person". Or perhaps "Various Injuries Protruding". That said, anyone who was anyone was out, tabogan or saucer in hand, tearing up the backyard hill. We had everything, from coon hounds flying down the hill, to bloody knuckles, to bone fragments seeing the light of graduation day! Hang tight. I have proof. It's gonna warm my mom's heart to go through my graduation photo album and see my cake... me and girlfriend, smily happy graduates... busted shin bone.

Much love to my family for coming out unlike all my lazyass friends in Allentown. You had nothing to do with my graduating anyway! Peace.

Party Time

Well, this weekend isn't exactly prone to busting out the old volleyball net and shuttlecocks (I'm just writing this blog to use that word). Nor is it exactly prime for setting up tents with loads of food, while seeing your Dad walk around in shorts with his camera. What in God's name am I talking about? I'm referring to my graduation party, of course!

I and the lovely girlfriend just had our January graduation from Temple U, hence the coldest party this side of the Polar Bear Club. Should be pretty sweet though, I mean we are getting a half-keg? That's how you know you are getting old. A half keg. Pfff! I can just hear the frat boy insults ringing in my head. Yes, either getting old, or your friends are just lazy and you know you'll get stuck suckin' it down with Grandma. But, one thing is for sure- the best idea was to get a bigass pig to pull apart! A pork-pull, as they say. If they had college in Medieval times, you know that's how it'd go down! We are going super oldschool.

So, obviously we didn't graduate from THAT kind of Temple. Kind of a red flag. But the one we did grad from makes our families very happy, and celebrate we shall. Should be quite frightening, actually, it is the seminal "meeting of the parents". So, sorry Mom, no keg stands this time.

Peace in the hopefully melting backwoods of Quakertown this weekend!

I'm officially a geek.

Hey! I'm back. I apologize for lack of insight the other day. Actually, I apologize for lack of insight every day. But you are here, so I guess there's something compelling you! I know. Trainwrecks are always fascinating. Well, wreck I shall! Yesterday i flew outta here faster than Britney in rehab, and for what reason?! I had a miriad of errands to run, the most important of which? I bought more RAM for my computer.

There is no porn in that equation whatsoever, so just stop. Although I see your point. And it is pretty freakin hilarious. But! What I'm referring to is Random Access Memory. The stuff that allows your porno to have less start and stop, a quicker load, etc. Oh Christ. Forget it! RAM. Computer chips! This stuff is treated like porno in the geek world. It's the gold standard for nerd status. Normal dudes brag about how many chicks they've plugged. Nerds brag about how much RAM they've plugged in lately! I'm serious.

I remember being in high school and hanging with the token computer nerd from the grade above... Garrett. Big, dopey Garrett. He once asked me what I thought he should invest in next. It was big decision time for him and his savings. "New car? Or more RAM???"

I could have taken the dad-joke route of, "Well, have you considered the Dodge_Ram?!" But instead I just punched him.

And now I have fallen/ risen (?) into the same category. I can't believe it, but hey... I did it. It's cool. I went home last night with two beauties from the local Best Buy. Two sweet little things, 512 mb dimensions, both in green, twins I think! Went home, inserted them inside, and I was up and working, just like that. Incredible speed! Multi-tasking never was better! More boxes up at once! What's not to love?!

Where's the geek sheet at? Sign me up. Guys, I'm telling you, RAM it up!

Classic Rock meets Hip Hop?

It's official- Run DMC is on tour with Aerosmith again! Yeah right. If you believed me... it's official- you just got hosed. But it's all good, because the second coming of classic rock meeting hip hop HAS, in fact, happened. And gimmicky albums like Jay-Z's 'Black' being mixed with The Beatles' 'White' to form 'The Grey Album' does not count. Pure rubbish!

I'm talking about the fusion of a classic rock INTERN with alter-ego, bedroom hip hop mega-producer. It may sound like a shameless plug, but guess what? It's my freakin' blog. I'm just doin my damn job! So there you have it. Indeed, as of late I have gotten my recording back in gear, and while I haven't interviewed foreign political leaders for the show... or banged out any exclusive jingles for the next big CONTEST... you can still check out the goods (and tell me how much my generation sucks, musically).

Allz ma beats is found right here

I'm sure John would love to pump my beats on air, but sadly, our format is a bit skewed for their sound. Couple things are lacking. Mainly, classic, and rock. But thanks in advance!

Italian Invasion

Today's show was pretty intense. I felt like I had wandered into the Italian Market on a summer afternoon... there was all kinds of Italian-speak flying over my head! Unfortunately, there was something distinctly missing amongst this gathering- food! I am absolutely craving some straight up authentic, from scratch, napkin-tucked-into-shirt, homemade sauce-drenched Italian FOOD!

And by the way, if Italian food itself was a mafia, Olive Garden would be the rat. Don't trust that place, I tell ya!

Maybe I'll splurge and head down to 9th and Passyunk. I'll get to that right after this. I gotta. It's Friday- not payday for me, but it's the perfect time to act like it is! The sun is out, the snow is melting... what better time to eat a bigass cheesesteak?! It's been awhile anyway. Ehh, who am I kidding? I know I'm gonna go home and throw a frozen pizza in the oven.

Nuff said. Time to eat. Be safe, don't slip this weekend, and remember to hug your sweetie and tell her- to cook, dammit! Hahaha HA HA HA HA! Bye.

Peace in the Russians-posing-as-Italian-food-joints Northeast!

Cupid Hangover

Sucks to be the flower and teddy bear delivery guy yesterday. Not only are you stuck in a big cold van cruising around in ice and snow, but everyone you meet up with is eating chocolate, warmly embracing lovers, and having sex. Sweet gig!

I thought about that since I, myself, had a tough time getting to my sweet gig yesterday. Did you notice?? Probably not. Thankfully, interns have the option of calling out here. We aren't known for our superior car power. Just star power! Does the italics translate sarcasm well? Hopefully.

So let's see... my blog. My life. Well! Had a splendid Valentine's Day/ Big One with my lovely girlfriend yesterday. The Big One is not some new 7/11 drink... I mean The big one. The milestone for high school and college kids. The endangered species of Hollywood. The one year anniversary!

I will now define 'keeper': any girl who says "don't worry about getting me anything" AND REALLY MEANS IT! We actually bought each other plane tickets for Cali this summer. And for V-day we just exchanged cards, she cooked chicken parm subs, we drank Blue Moon beer and watched movies. The end. Ok, OF COURSE other things took place but this is a family show! Hence, a family blog. We did it 8 times.

Peace in the lovenest, otherwise known as the Northeast!

The Police Are Coming!

Apparently in more ways than one. Sure, everyone knows that old Sting, Stew and Summers are reuniting, but what was with the helipcopters last night?! I don't know if it was over the top tour promotion or what, but the police were circling over my neighborhood for a good 15 minutes last night!

Sting's mug was not on the side of the chopper, however, nope. No mullett banner streaming from the tail-end (although how genius would that be?!). And no, not even Stewart Copeland's neandertholic thighs were to be seen dangling out of the side... just a very bright spotlight shining down into my back alley. Not the best time for an evening stroll!

So obviously, my Police World Tour promotion idea went out the window pretty quickly. I think it was right after my girlfriend reminded me we were in our PHILLY apartment (I go to Quakertown on the weekends, give me a break).

I hope Sting realizes this is Philly. The only 'message in a bottle' he's gonna find here will involve an empty 40, Roxanne stands at median off Delaware Ave on weekend nights, and 'every breath you take' brings you one step closer to Emphysema. The city paper does have some sweet Kama Sutra ads though!

Peace in the patrolled-from-above Northeast.

Booze, Babes and Balls

What a whirlwind 24 hours it's been! As promised, I went out on the town with my gal last night to celebrate her big sexy transition to 23 (and my half birthday). Does anyone still celebrate half birthdays? Remember when as a kid you'd be like "I'm 6 ennahaff". At what age does the "half" become unimportant?? When do kids start punching the kid who includes "the half"? I'll investigate...

ANYWAY. We went out. We did the center city park like you're a lab rat thing. Turn, nothing, turn, look, turn...maybe...nope, turn, keep looking, curse, turning, looking, METER! But we did not keel over and die at the end of that. We went and stuffed ourselves with food straight outta Mexican heaven! If that does, in fact, exist. What do Mexicans believe in anyway? Chupacabras. And I was bummed actually, no Filet of Chupacabra on the menu at El Vez. Kind of a bummer. Chupa Loin? Nope. Nothin.

So we ate amazingly flavorful Mexican entrees, preceded by Macho Nachos (which I took the reins on), tacked on some fried ice cream at the end and enjoyed a pitcher of Jamaican margaritas the whole. damn. tasty. time. It was great! The wind chill was not. You know it's cold out if my girl is wearing jeans on a date. Which I don't get anyway, considering you never see the legs on a dinner date! Give me a top. A sexy top! Maybe a nice plunging neckline, some foxy form-fitting fabric... just a hot top! Who cares about the bottom?! It's hidden under all that awesome food! That's all the guy wants... everything, right there. Sexy chick- kickass food right underneath. Wham. Bam! The ultimate 2-hit combo.

So yes, the date was splendid. We were so stuffed we nixed more booze (a la Lindsay Lohan) and hopped on 95 back to the East of North. An excellent decision. An excellent sleep. An excellent show this morning. Life is good goin' into the weekend!

P.S. No, I will not be trying Simon Kirke's drumming tip. He just wants to see my balls.

Candybar Boycott In Effect

Ya know... There definitely are exceptions in life. Most people finish up college by intensive research, writing a thesis, curing cancer...

Others must cross the finish line by forced gorging, escaping homoerotic proclivitivities and man-spankings.

I am that exception. Could you guess?! Yes, today on the show you'd know I am passing this final stage of education/ indoctrination with flying colors. Ok, rainbow colors. With a splash of pink.

Anyway, to quote a girl I heard out front of my stoop the other day, "Isss whateva". I don't care. When it comes to the shared Snickers bar, Brian's lips were not "giant" enough to even brush mine, and I escaped, unscathed! They got some crack, but not the whole back. Suckas!

And of all days, it's my gal's birthday today! And my HALF Birthday! I am going home to make out with my hot chick after this. You hear that?! Female. Shaved legs. Soft lips. Boobs. Huge freakin' boobs. Awesome! Yes! Now I'm back. I am BACK, baby. Maybe we will do the Snickers stunt and tape it for John! Actually... nah... inevitably Go Go would somehow "borrow" the tape and end up injuring his wrist by later this week. I can't do that to my buddy.

But do stay tuned, I am taking her out tonight for the big celebration that my $6-infused-wallet can provide (That's what Brian woulda won had he gone the easy route). Should have stories tomorrow. Manly stories.

Peace in the Gay Rehab-free Northeast!

Bon Jovial

Goood morning! I had a great time this morning, I gotta admit it. Today's show was, to quote Go Go, "the shizzit". Gnarly. Kickin'. Boss to the max! Rad fer sure! And every and any other 80's term wanna throw into the pot... or should I say arena?!

Jovi was on, maaaan! NOT his songs. Jovi! The Highness of Hair himself. The Sultan of Spray! The Spawn of Spandex! The Jovi.

And I thought it was pretty cool. So I just had to throw that out there... Blog filler? Perhaps. Well I can't have amazing tales every morning! Whatever. Sue me. For all I'm not worth. Actually I should have some rather interesting yarns to spin once this week ends, what with girlfriend-birthday-Valentine's-Graduation-party-binge-drinking-naked-chick MADNESS breaking out!!!

*pause* I may have gotten a little carried away there. Well, some of that stuff is goin' down. Stick around!

And Go Philadelphia Soul! ...soul, right? I think...

Scrabble Addiction

So, Peyton won... '24' came in sharp AND free as ever last night... my car still takes 15 minutes and 5 restarts to warm up in this cold... not the most eventful of weekends for me. BUT! I did extend my Scrabble win-streak over my girlfriend to 5 games. And then she ended it. Decisively. Yes, on Sunday she finally got me, with a 357-point strike.

Note to couples- play Scrabble. It does something, it's magic! Pure relationship-magic. It brings your relationship this whole new level. Not just of geekdom either! I gotta tell you... It heightens competition. You always can get the last word. Wordplay is foreplay. Can you spell innuendo?! Arguments are more intellectual and chock-full of absurd words like Jag, Quat and Zonk! It's awesome.

So anyway, now my record for '07 stands at 6-5. I'll keep all you INtern Dave fans updated, don't worry. I'm bringin' down the Scrabble hammer for the DeBellaware Valley, you can bet your triple-word squares on that!

Who invented the graduation hat?

That's all I want to know. Whose idea was it to celebrate 4+ years of academic slave-labor by donning a piece of cardboard stuck into a sock, with a big string dangling from it? That was my only problem graduating yesterday. I can live with the obligatory nice shirt, tie, big black robe. But don't expect me to put up with a tassel swinging in my face for more than an hour.

But honestly, graduation was enjoyable! I was nestled between other kids whose names end in 'G', and no, Giant Brian was not one of them. Go Go? He was there. I didn't ask what was going on beneath that robe the whole time though. But I was surprised, my speakers were short, concise, even (I gotta admit it) inspiring *awww*. I loved it though, because that canceled out the gushing sorority girl with greeting card sentiments that I was expecting. "CAN YOU BELIEVE IT, GANG?! WE DID IT!"

No, my graduation was exemplary of the fine media folk that Temple U churns out. Fine future members of the television, media and radio biz gathered under one roof together. Almost like being back at The DeBella DeBall... minus all the booze.

Oh, and the only "Shout"ing was of a different kind-
'Shaniqua M. Jones'
"You GO Shaniqua! Das ma baby! Yeeaaah, girl!" *air horn*

'David W. Gibson III' *crickets chirping*


Much love to my family and grandfamily for comin' out! Love you guys.

Today I Graduate

So give me another pass on the blog! I've been a slack and a hack writer this week. I admit it. But give me a break... I been writin' for years now (hasn't always been about embarassing life tidbits) and I'm finally getting rewarded for it today! That's right, at 1pm on N. Broad St in Philadelphia, I will be Dr. Intern Dave.

Did I also mention I tend to exaggerate more on Thursdays? Can't help it. I have weekend anxiety! I will be having a huge graduation party, with volleyball, snacks, fruit punch, backgammon... and I'm gonna have money coming out my ears! By the way I tend to miss Bill Henley's forecast on Thursdays.

So hold your pants on until I return! You'll soon find out about all the crazy moments and hilarious hijinx' of Temple University School of Communications and Theater Graduation *sigh* My Cosby-watch is in full effect.

Drum-down the Masses

People love the drummer, they just don't want to admit it. We are the attention magnet of the band... stop averting your eyes to us! The most physical element (right, ladies?). Not to mention, the heartbeat of the music! So get off us. And start respectin' my stick(s).

And since I have to rush out of the station today due to academic reasons, i.e. smart things, I will leave you with... what else? Me playing drums! And cartoons.

Ok, maybe we aren't entirely intelligent.

Enjoy. http://youtube.com/watch?v=RpgZBDQOnDo

Super Bowl for Super Cheap

I was telling the gang during commercial breaks today about my weekend activity... siphoning High Definition out of the atmosphere- free of charge. I should be on Mythbusters. Can't get decent programming that looks decent without paying decent bucks for a premium cable package that rapes your checking account monthly? Think again. (side note: for dramatic effect, always italicize verbs) (in case you haven't figured that out yet) (then I just told)

Anyway...yeah! I went to Best Buy and bought a slick TERK amplified HD Antenna for a kinky $69 and I got a tip about the website www.antennaweb.org from a kind gentleman off Craigslist. Wow, 3 plugs in one sentence... that may be a record. In any case, I located my house on a map and followed directions as to where to point my antenna. And wouldn't you believe it, come 9:00 last night, the beads of sweat on Jack Bauer's face where dripping into my living room! It worked, and it looks unbelievable.

3, 6, 10, Fox, CW, PUBLIC ACCESS! All crisp, all widescreen, all free. But you know what? The news looks almost too real now. HD News?! Ehh... unnecessary. It's weird! It's not human. It's too perfect. It's like the make-up works against them now. These people aren't real! It scares me. Feels eerily sci-fi or something. Who knows, maybe I'm just a hick. But a resourceful one! Good luck to anyone following in these paycheck-to-paycheck footsteps.

Peace in the HD-ready Northeast!

Brrrrr

It's freakin cold. And officially, I declare- winter did not hit until last night. My bed sits right under 2 windows whose draft would make Vietnam blush. Not a charming wake-up scenario. Not an easy car warm-up. But! After 5 efforts of restarting my engine, I got her purring and made it in before the stroke of six.

And then had to go right back out and do the naked weather report.

Honestly, had John gone out and done that, his mustache probably would have shattered if he smiled. I aint used to this yet! This weekend I need to find a hat. Maybe a station morale booster?! Cheap gift, but USEFUL! Everybody wins.

Speaking of this weekend, this afternoon even... my girlfriend is doin the ol' walk. NOT the walk of shame (we live together, or she would). The walk. The diploma strut. The thank god-I-am-done-having-to-drink-crap-beer-and-listen-to-mundane-roommate-conversation-while-eating-ramen-noodles-trying-to-study-some-dumbass-assignment-just-to-get-a-decent-paying-job-someday-dance!

And quite frankly, I am extremely proud of her. And excited to hang with her parents and make fun of them when they start crying. I'll do the same when my parents show up next Thursday at Temple. I am still bitter that technically, she is graduating before me. But if anyone should, I'm glad it's her, and not... my younger siblings. We are both the eldest child, so it should be pretty epic for our families. I will report from academia when I return...and yes, the Cosby watch is on! I can only hope.

Peace in the North Broad St. auditorium this afternoon!

Are you a Leo? Let's ride.

So I've been praying it doesn't snow later. My old Saturn wagon has yet to test those waters, err, drifts. And I got my 6 hour delivery route tonight, stretching from Delaware to Hatboro, PA! But as I brought up Internet Explorer, I found some solace in a small link on the home page.

According to a study by InsuranceHotline.com, a Web site that quotes drivers on insurance rates, astrological signs are a significant factor in predicting car accidents. Leos (July 23-Aug. 22) and then Geminis (May 21-June 20) were found to be the best overall. Leos, described along with the study results, are "generous, and comfortable in sharing the roadway."

8-8-82, bitches. Smack-dab in the middle...no cusp in sight. And I take pride in my Leo-ocity, for many reasons, but I never knew this! We are not only King of the jungle, but apparently the roadways as well (too bad I-76 usurps my power on a daily basis). But it's true... you normally can find me roaring up the right lane, cruising at a 28 mpg, 55 mpH. True, once my speedometer approaches 65, my car starts to sound like an industrial fan that's been left on for a 5 years, but... that's how I roll.

Leos also don't believe in jinxes. I'm serious. Really.


Crap.

Peace in the snow-free Northeast!

Quothe the Raven (Part Deux)

So me and my lovely gal show up at The Old Mill Inn to check out Grover's Poe Show. Apparently the place is haunted. Either that, or YOU are supposed to feel like a ghost when you try to order something. Or pretty much get any kind of service at all.

We tried to get drinks upstairs and wait to see Grover. "No room at the bar". Ok, well... guess we can grab a quick appetizer or two at a table downstairs and wait? "Ummm... maybe. Let me check to see if we can do that." 10 minutes later we're seated. Server with Marilyn Manson lipstick says she'll be right there. 10 minutes later we're still seated. Server keeps taking dirty plates from all around us, but no orders. Are we ghosts?! Holy crap, I'm starting to feel like Hayley Joel Osment. I wish Bruce Willis was with me! Maybe he coulda jabbed an icicle into this girl's eye... After probably 15 MINUTES 38 SECONDS she saunters over, and those wretched black lips crack open to sneer "Okaayyy... sorry bout that, what can I getcha?"

Well, we came to see Grover's show, and we wanted food and drink before, but now since he's on in about 10 how bout I just rip out your tell-tale heart and use it for a prop in his show? Thanks.

So I did. It was a mess... but I managed to make a mean Bloody Mary out of it. Me and my date left the incredibly hospitable confines of the lower mill and went up to salvage the night, a la Grover Silcox. I had no idea what was in store, but DAMN! This man loves Poe! And is no joke when it comes to reciting his classics. Very impressive. Shout out to my man Grover. You rocked the stuffy joint. Worth every penny of the $10 gin and tonics we were served at the hostess stand before going up!

So that was that. From chains to seeing dead people. I know it sounds like a weekend Scrooge would be enjoying, but NO! Intern Dave, reporting the wonders that make up my life. Hope you enjoyed.

Quothe the Raven...

Nevermore... take Intern Dave's football advice. To be fair, I guess you could take half of what I say for what it is. The bad news? Eagles lost to a team that didn't even make the Super Bowl. Good news? Peyton came through, as I said/hoped/pleaded. Now we have 2 weeks to plan a badass football party. More on that to come...

As for my weekend, I did a lot of different things. On Saturday, my girlfriend and I set out to break the chain. Letter, you say? NO. Trespass somewhere? Nope. The Chain Restaurant! We have been dating for over a year now, and have somehow managed to escape the banal propensity of most young folks to end up at Applebees. Or Chiles. Bennigans? Bet Again. TGI Fridays? TGI Never Have Been There.

So it was with bittersweet anticipation that we headed to Macaroni Grill Saturday night. If we were going to break this chain(less streak) we were going to do it right! We were going to the top of the chain heap. Quality Italian chainosity. Then we found out you had to make reservations 2 hours in advance. Ahhh yes. Forgot about that factor. The weekend factor at chain restaurants. The chainsanity. Maybe this was a bad idea...

So we tried a strip mall Mexican place. It was full of retirees and waiters with arm napkins. Me and my girl walked in and it was like Tommy Lee showed up to Mother Theresa's funeral.

Next stop? Old Mill Inn (Grover was doing his Poe Show!). I'll leave the Adventure in Chaindom right there until tomorrow. 24-hour Intermission! Deal with the anticipation.

Our soup of the day is... Peas in the Northeast.

Intern Pick 'Em

I decided to follow up Jen's predictions with my own... and I did not overhear these down the hall at WPEN. These are my own stone cold locks. Bet the farm! Whatever that means.

I am really thinking Top Dog vs. Underdog. Gotta go Colts/ Saints!

That's right, Peyton vs. The Bayou. From teacher's pet of the NFL to national villain in just one game. Imagine the drama... the Colts' hopes of stopping the Cinderella story of the New Orleans Saints' season. From Peyton to "Seyton". I'm telling you, that's what I'm feeling! Take it or leave it.

Honestly, I hope the Saints make it, but even more-so, I need the Patriots to lose. I can't TAKE it anymore. They have become the NY Yankees of the NFL, I mean every year! Enough already! Enough with the cut-off hoodies and the cutie quarterbacks. Leave! Go away! They are just soooo boring. New England? Give me a break... I wonder what all those timeshare Super Bowl parties are like.

Happy NFL Playoffs to all!

Let it snow... somewhere else.

I just want to start out this blog and thank the good Lord for the lack of winter wonderland this year. Because to be certain, if we DID have one at this point, I would be walking in it. Without even the consulation of a fire to conspire next to. So I'm throwing it out there now: first semi-decent snowstorm, I will most likely be writing this blog from my living room that show day.

"Winter is to Intern Dave's station wagon as the playoffs are to Philly sports teams"

That actually showed up on my first SAT exam. True story. Followed by...

"Snowstorm is to crap Saturn as Superbowl is to --" OK YOU GET THE PICTURE!

My car is just bad. Terrible. To be fair, I do drive it about 500 miles a week. So what? Gotta make a living somehow. Should that validate the wheels slipping when I run over a puddle of malt liquor? Or popping a flat just cause I ran over a spent bullet casing?! Hmm... on second thought maybe it's not the car, just the city. Nah. It's the Saturn. What is that anyway? Is that even American? Sounds pseudo-Japanese. What, is it supposed to be from another world?! Saturn, pfff! What kinda assinine boomer burn-out CEO came up with that idea. "Yeah, ya know, it's like...the car of the future maaan... it's like you're drivin' on the moon, bro. The public is gonna dig."

No, the public is gonna get pissed. Especially after your 3rd tow-truck rendevous at 2am, in whatever ghetto you broke down in, with the assistance of some ex-con from a no-name garage in Fishtown. KINDA makes you wish Saturn would just make like Pluto and get the hell outta here! 'Nuff said.

Peace in the hopefully break-down free NorthEast.

Go Phils!

I had 2 days to rant. Not touching it. Besides, it feels like Spring, which means baseball is on my mind. And it will STAY on my mind, because where there's Ryan Howard, there's hope. Oh, and solid starting pitching. Which we should have this year! I'm telling you, if there's any team to break this city's 24 year drought of sports championships... but your blue collar dollar on the Fightin' Phils.

And speaking of 24... I am in desperate need of the past 2 episodes of the TV show. The one that kicks all other shows asses. Yeah, that's the one. Feel free to either punt them or pass them up my way (longer than 15 yards) to WMGK/ JDB Show, One Bala Plaza, Suite 339, Bala Cynwyd, PA 19004! I will be forever grateful! And mention your name on the air. And rig contests for you. Thank you.

Ugh, why Andy?? WHY!?! How could- ....15 yards! That's all! What the -- *sigh* Go Phils.

And you thought Fabio had driving troubles...

Well, turns out he did. And it was a let down. But it was getting lost and being split up from his wagon train of followers that did it! Not the cops pulling him over. Like they did to me...twice... in the past 2 weeks.

Never before in my life have I been pulled over until now! TWICE! Within 10 days! DRIVING A SATURN STATION WAGON! I'm trying to come to grips with the how and the why. One thing must be said... I am by no means a Sunday driver. There's serious mileage under my belt. I have driven bakery vans in NYC, tour vans across country, MGK station vans with bad brakes... I have seen more white lines than Studio 54 in the 70's. And when do I get 2 tickets? Driving through the suburbs of Philly on my delivery route, in a station wagon!

It's true. Life isn't fair. You just got accept that and as John knows, "Look on the brightside of life!" Which is excellent advice. But I'll tell ya, after 5 hours of a delivery route, with one stop left in Hatboro... falling prey to a stop-sign ambush kind of puts a kink in your day! But it happened. I slid through one on a dark, deserted suburb street, and out of the shadows comes Captain Priority! Keeping the mean Hatboro streets safe from station wagon propulsion. In the 1st degree. I premeditated that awful, heinous semi-stop!

So anyway, I have about $223 in city debt now, and a couple citations whose grammar resembles that of a 2nd grade book report. Honestly, I gotta respect cops for their hard line of work. But Dammit! These guys I got "barley" knew how to "compleat" a sentence. Quotes there for a reason.

So be careful, fellow wagoneers of minor-offensive-tendencies! Sure, 4 thugs on ATVs just zig-zagged down the middle of Broad St, and a tinted Buick with cheap rims just crossed 4 lanes without one blink, and hey! Look over there! A hit-and-run of a nun with candy, teddy bears and an infant in her arms! But hey... you slid through a suburban stop sign goin' 3 mph. Book 'em.

Rant over. Back to the brightside... it's Friday! GO BIRDS!

It's Working!

Heyyy folks! Sorry about yesterday's lack of blog. Apparently either "blogspot" was overrun by traffic, or the more likely explanation- our computer system just flat out sucks. In any case, today it's working. Today I'm working (thanks to double-bagged pots of Folgers) and today the show was working... which isn't always the case with an in-studio guest! But, yeah... how about that Ant? Who knew people under 5 feet were so hilarious?! And you know, John was right. During commercial breaks ius when it got gay. REAL gay. I felt like I stumbled headfirst into a supermarket tabloid rack. I swear, Ant chatting it up with Giant Brian was like witnessing David and Goliath host The View. Minus The Donald insults.

Good time today though. If I had cable, I'd rush home and see how John's tangerine and periwinkle comes off on the tube! Sadly, I don't. But I will. As many of you know, God's greatest gift to television starts up again for the 6th time this Sunday. That's right. The one, the only, the American James Bond... 24 !!! My big plan is to find an HD antenna off Craigslist and tune that sucker in, via free cable cord sticking out the back of my living room carpet. I'll update my progress this weekend. Lord willing, I'll have 42" full, crystal clear high def digital numbers counting down in my living room come Sunday. That and Eagles numbers counting UP on Saturday!

Pretty sure that you're gayyyyyyyyyyy.

Peace in the NorthEast.

De'Bella, De Ball, and Tigger!

One is a porn star. One was injured during a Denise Austin workout. And the other preys on children at Disney World! Just another day on The John DeBella Show. As far as Mondays go (and for me Tuesday is Monday), not a bad way to "claw" my way back into the workweek. HA! Hahaha ha...a heh...heh... uhh... yeah.

That's why I leave the humor to the John and gang. Anyway... Mummers! Eagles! What a kickass weekend for the city. My Mummer's Parade virginity was broken. Me and my gal waded through the throngs of mostly drunk Italians all over Broad St, and had a great time being the only sober folks out on Saturday morning mumming it up. So, if you saw that guy in the crowd with the Budweiser case over his head... not me. Nor was I in face paint, under an umbrella or strutting my stuff in a fat suit. But it was fun to watch! Only thing missing was street corner stores with "Big Ass Beers" for sale. And of course beads.

Then Sunday, the Birds moved in the first direction toward ANOTHER kind of parade! So this week, they advance to the land of Mardis Gras, speak o' the devil. So listen up, Saints- here's the deal. You get a parade every year... no matter what. With naked women, no less. How bout you just let us slip on by this year, huh? Cool. Thanks. The Super Bowl aint no big deal anyway, I mean the chicks there have to wear pasties!

This year has been off to an amazing start. Keep em crossed for more of the same. Until tomorrow, loyal listeners... I'm off to download "Da Bigger, De'Bella"

Santa Claw

Guess I'll have to get used to it. I have been dubbed "The Claw" as of 6:15 am this morning. Serves me right for going after John's stack of stuff! Intern faux pau. Yep, that's me looming over Jen to the right there. I went for her later. Sometimes I dress like the invisible man, so what? You can't see me. But John did. All I wanted to know was the odds on the playoff games (as if I have any money to risk losing right now). But I can pretend, and feel good then when I'm wrong on each bet and never put any money down in reality! Ha!

Anyway, laugh it up. What's odd is, I may have the most menacing nickname in radio intern history. Usually they are just like, "Pete the Virgin" or "Freeloader Danny". I'd tear those fools in half!

I can just see it. "Oh, hey... how's your intern working out for ya? Wow. Real go-getter? Funny guy, huh? Yeah. Mine mangles listeners." Great. Hey, it is what it is.

Anyway, haha...wow. Sometimes I hope this blog translates to at least one person out there (of the 3 readers). I need a good, hearty nap. It's been tough getting back into form. By next week I'll have it down! Unless the Eagles lose. Then... well, Giant Brian probably be the only one that shows up. Only way to find out is to keep listenin'! Shameless.

Ok, I'm off into the sunrise! Peace out, Go Birds.

Almost Playoff Time

I was reading through the papers today and started to feel like a real lameass fan. In all the hustle and bustle of the holidays I keep forgetting the Eagles are in the playoffs! It's crazy, the NFL playoffs are this weekend! Holy weekend with the boys. I don't know how this hasn't been on my mind... I guess time flys when you have a winning streak. They start in 2 days, the Eagles seem to have a great shot at another run to the Big Bowl, and if they don't make it?? Well, it's hibernation time until Opening Day at Citizen's Bank. I like my sports outdoors.

If the Eagles lose on Sunday, the Enquirer's sports section might as well just go away. Switch it classifieds! "In Search of...cyanide". Maybe full page Zoloft spreads... year round. Actually, just move the sports section under "Crime Report".

The Eagles can be a much-needed hero for this city, at the start of this 2007. Keep them ham-hand fingers crossed!

Peace in the NorthEast.

007 is Upon Us!

Hey! Happy New Year to all you in the DeBellaware Valley and beyond... freakin' 007. This HAS to be a good year! Full of adventures... martinis... babes... Oddjobs. I have a feeling I'll be experiencing most of the latter. But I DID dabble in the others already! I join John in the 'chilled out' holiday experience. High school reunion night at the local bar was not in my agenda. Nor was going anywhere near a Wal-Mart, or any other potentially suicide-inducing shopping... place. I'm 24, and guess what? That's the age where staying at home with your girlfriend's parents, a few good friends, tequila and a coon hound sounds like a GREAT plan.

But what a feeling, coming back to the show after a healthy one and a half weeks! It feels like going back to school after summer break, or maybe seeing an old girlfriend after a couple years. And yes, I happened to embrace going back to school. Shut up. And no, none of the JDB cast is an ex-flame. So put them Jen Posner rumors to rest!

Being back feels good. All three of my alarm clocks worked this morning (sorry babe)! Got here on time, had a good show. It's been a good start! Now if the Eagles win this week, I won't know what to do with myself... guess I'll just wait for those martinis and babes. Happy New Year y'aaalll!