The ##

thedailywhat:

Life-Affirming Study of the Day: A new study of 1,600 liberal arts majors in the Northeast, unveiled at this week’s American Sociological Association meeting, basically validates what everyone already knows — binge drinking in college is more fun than not binge drinking in college. 

The study, which defines binge drinking as more than four drinks in a night for females, and five for males, found:

• Social satisfaction was higher among members of high-status groups (wealthy, white, male, Greek) than their low-status counterparts (poor, female, non-Greek, LGBTQ, minorities).
• Low-status students were able to increase their happiness with their social lives by binge drinking.
• Students who belonged to high-status groups were less socially satisfied if they did not binge drink.

“I would guess it has to do with feeling like you belong and whether or not you’re doing what a ‘real’ college student does,” says study co-author and Colgate University associate professor Carolyn HsuHsu. “It seems to be more about certain groups getting to define what that looks like.” 

[wapo]

Broad Recognition is a feminist magazine written by students at Yale University. The Ying Tang Twins are the Atlanta-based crunk kings known for imploring listeners to “Wait ‘til you see [their] dick[s].” How did it take so long for these two cultural titans to finally meet! But now they have, and the interview is truly a revelation.

It was minutes before our blinged-out heroes were to take the stage before the throng of wasted white kids at Yale’s Spring Fling, when the Feminist pamphlet—which describes itself on its website as an “online polit­i­cal mag­a­zine devoted to women’s issues, jour­nal­ism and fem­i­nist cul­tural com­men­tary”—sat down with Messrs. Ying and Yang to discuss, among other topics, strip clubs, gay marriage, the concept of how “money pays bills,” and how the political correctness of college campuses causes problems for rap groups who tell women they’ll “break your jaw­bone.”

First, Broad Recognition writer Annie Atura grilled the hip-hop provocateurs on the subject of whether thier lyrics are didactic, or purely role-playing performance art:

AA: Well what exactly do you promote?

Yang: Um … We, our main objec­tive as the Ying Yang Twins was to make hype songs for women that work in the strip club.

AA: So things that they could get excited about?

Yang: Yeah, ver­sus let­ting them dance to fuck­ing John Cougar Mellencamp.

AA: Mm hm.

Yang: Or Pink Floyd. You know what I’m saying?

AA: So you think women can get excited about things like, “Fuck you til you cry”?

Yang: Right! Because a lot of the women that know us – the women that work in the exotic clubs – and other women that don’t work in the club, they say, You  guys know how to explain, when you talk about us. So, when you make the lit­tle ges­ture about the bitch here, or, trick, or ho there, it’s not as bad as a illit­er­ate per­son try­ing to use the same type of lyrics. In other words, you have to have smarts, in order to get smart with a person.

AA: So you think that you actu­ally empathize with women?

Yang: Yeah. That’s right.

The interview then segues to a discourse from the twins regarding gay marriage, a concept about which they admit having reservations.

AA: How do you feel about things like gay mar­riage? Are you com­fort­able with homosexuality?

Yang: No. I’m not with that.

Ying: No, I’m not with that.

Ying does, however, offer some advice toward the end of the interview.

Ying: If you like penis, say you like penis. If you like kitty cat, say you like kitty cat.

And with that, the Ying Yang Twins make their long-awaited debut in the realm of feminist criticism. Hopefully their cohort Lil Jon will join them in the roundtable discussion next time. YEEAAAHHHH!

Here at The ## we have a segment called Tumblrviews where we interview authors of popular Tumblrs blogs. Today’s is with Frank Bucalo of Two Holes are Better than One, a blog that chronicles Frank’s mission to shotgun a different beverage every day of 2010.


What made you think of this idea? Why are you doing this?
Back in December I jokingly said that I was going to shotgun a beer a day for the upcoming year and then I got to thinking about it and decided it would be sweet to try to do a different beer each time. It seemed like a fun idea and an experience that would help me search out some new beers that I’d never seen.

Did you know a lot about alcoholic beverages before starting this project?
I have been brewing my own beer on and off for a few years so I know the basics, but mostly I just know what I like.

Can you tell us about your technique? Holding the can vertically seems a little unique, at least where we come from.
It has changed slightly, in the beginning I did more of a horizontal thing but I feel like gravity is more on my side when the can is vertical. I try to mix it up though.

How about hole size/shape? Any philosophy? Are keys preferred?
That is actually something I am working on writing about. I have plans to review the tools out there that are marketed for shotgunning and also some more unconventional hole punching techniques. My friend Lucas gave me a tool called a shotgunator, which works wonders and I use it consistently, but for the blog beers I choose to use a key because the holes I end up with are like snowflakes, no two alike.

Read More

Oh, Beer Pong. That undergraduate mainstay to which we devote our nights and our livers, that glorious contest of Solo cups and broken hearts, that germ-ridden exposition of marvel where boys become men, and girls become irrelevant. Why, we so often have asked, is this sport and this pastime so egregiously neglected by the writers of our nation’s literary magazines?

That dark age has recently ended. In its recently published “Games People Play” issue, Tin House features a warm reminiscence by staff writer Cheston Knapp of his golden years at William & Mary, when he and his friends fratted very hard. Its inclusion is a landmark in fratological discourse. Tin House may not be the stuffiest of lit mags, but not often are the phrases “elephant walks” and “ritual coitus with goats” included in a publication that mentions Georges Perec and the Oulipo movement in its introduction.

Oh. And the story happens to be pretty fucking well-written. If the blunt frattiness of his name didn’t give it away (like seriously how frat-tastic is the name CHESTON KNAPP) it’s pretty clear that this bro has the right pedigree for the subject matter. Amidst a vivid landscape of croakies and projectile vomiting, Knapp manages to relay with Beast- and Natty-soaked vivacity the joy of man-to-man combat on the Pong table.

But the highlight of the article, the moment where the fratmospheric pressure index hits its peak, is when Knapp introduces a substance knows as “frat sludge,” the “ameobic mess” created by the mounting beer and dirt and whothefuckknowswhatelse, that oozed from one end of the floor to the other as the faceoffs went on. (The Beirut table at the ## office also has its own biochemical activity it can attest to: a fungus that has, over the past 8 months, grown to cover a large spot beside the giant hashtags we painted on it.)

However we have some complaints. As wonderful as it is to read about keg stands in the space that would usually run some shit story about Pakistan, our friend Cheston neglected to include several points we consider essential in all discussion of this sport of champions. First, there is no mention of the ire that comes out of the heated “Beirut or Beer Pong” debate. The “correct” name has never been adequately decided upon.

Next, he neglects to inform the dear readers of his quaint little zine about the, um, variations on the game. There’s 21, which requires two 3-person teams and 21 cups a side, and forces each player to team up with someone on another team and shoot a communal ball. If your opponent makes it, you drink the cup and shoot. If he makes it, you shoot.

These same rules apply to Honeycomb, but with one alteration: the ENTIRE TABLE is covered in beer-filled cups, resulting in about 88 cups per side. It requires four people per team, and you get extremely wasted.

And there’s all the Beer Pong terminolgy that Cheston left out. There’s The Jamal, The Chi O, The Orphan, The Jump Shot, The Battleship Galatica, The Side Car, The One Cup, The Swat, The Naked Run, and so many more. The people need to know, Chester! The people need to know!  

You can read the story here. (Pshhhhhhh yeah RIGHT. Like Tin House would actually put its good stuff online. You can read some shitty stuff on the site, but “Beirut: A Frat-tastic Brewhaha” is nowhere to be found.) I would tell you to buy it in a bookstore or something, but you wouldn’t want to do that. This issue costs $16, and you would be much better off spending that money on two cases of Natty Light.

The moral of this story? Nate Silver doesn’t know his Bojangles.

Bojangles is famous for its chicken ‘n biscuits — a 1982 Talk story from The New Yorker, about the opening of the first Bo’s in the Big Apple, starts, “Chicken. Biscuits. Chicken ‘n Biscuits. Bojangles’ Famous Chicken ‘n Biscuits” — so we scraped the nutritional information for a Chicken Biscuit, ignorin’ all the fixin’s that make the meal so much more deliciously unhealthy.

Bojangles’ website doesn’t offer up its trans-fat information — to be fair, Cook Out, the other staple of The ## masthead’s late-night diet, doesn’t even have a website — so the Chicken Biscuit was at a disadvantage from the very beginning. Plus, we’re not factoring in the vat of Bojangles’ sweetest tea that makes you shake with caffeine before even taking a stab at the biscuit. (Another disclaimer: we’re not mathematics majors and we’re not even statistics majors. So this could be completely, utterly, embarrassingly wrong.)

That said, we took the handy-dandy formula and summed the Chicken Biscuit’s Silverian nutritional rating to be merely .534 — unhealthier than only Subway’s 12-inch oven-roasted chicken sandwich. 

That’s why you order two Chicken Biscuits, after all.

(via fuckyeahderrida)

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katiebakes:

Humiliating.

Welcome back to the club.