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.