Are you cool? Do you think you could be cooler? Screw the built-in equality of college -- cultural politics and elitism are as "Penn" as Benjamin Franklin or people doing it under the button.
This article appeared in the December 9th joke issue.
In the world of kitchen antics, the conventional positions are known: the chef on top, the one under him, and a whole slew of characters lending a helping hand.
This article appeared in the December 9th joke issue.
Tired of heading south of the border to search Rosita's cheap yet sanitarily questionable Mexican goods?
This article appeared in the December 9th joke issue.
Ah, baseball: the days gone by of sneaking under the bleachers to devour plump wieners and fluffy buns, hoping that mom wouldn't find you and scold you for spoiling dinner.
Chillin' on the corner, the first day we arrived
From the looks of the hoods, we didn't think we'd survive
Second day we were there, we were walking down the street
With a rhyme in mind and a funky beat
But when we turned into the alley, to our surprise
We saw a bunch of hoods right before our eyes
They looked us up and down once, twice and again
There must have been a 100 to a 110
So, I looked over my shoulder right at my friend
He said 'Nice knowing you' but this is the end
So we battened down the hatches and prepared to fight
Then all of a sudden I seen the light
The time was right, the time to rock
'Cause everybody knows, we're The New Kids On The Block.
Phish had a farewell tour. So did Cher. But let's be honest, Grant's cooler (Nickie watches Mermaids far too often). We've helped you with wine, hangovers and happy hours for the bursar dependent.
Petulia's Folly
1710 Sansom Street
Mon - Sat (except Wed), 10 a.m. - 6 p.m., Wed, 10a.m. -
7 p.m.
(215) 569-1344
www.petuliasfolly.com
For those of you who are oh so sick of the Gap, with its false promises of Sarah Jessica looking ever so glamorous plastered to a window, only to find that they don't even sell that stuff on the inside, venture out and find Petulia's Folly.
The Marigold Kitchen, formerly known as the Marigold Dining Room, has been around in some form or another for 70 years now, tucked away on 45th and Larchwood, but it may have finally hit the bigtime with its newest incarnation.
Elegantly luxurious, yet quite affordable." It sounds like an old Hyundai commercial, but when dining at Philadelphia Fish & Co.'s bar, this maxim holds true.
Set on prime real estate in Old City, Philadelphia Fish and Co.'s bar menu stands out as an alternative to the many price-gouging locales in the area.
Everyone knows that rock stars live the good life. We've been pursuing sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll ever since 6th grade, when "Sixteen Stone" came out and we thought headbanging and Gavin Rossdale were badass.
If we weren't alcoholics already, the thought of another four years of "nucular" and pretending to be Canadian while abroad is enough to make us need a drink.
Yes, we know that a vodka tonic is your drink of choice: simple, mundane and completely uninspired. Like an inebriated sheep in a Prada-clad flock, you saddle up to the bar every Saturday, begging for that next uncreative cocktail.
Ah, the idle days of our childhood: jumping in spectacular piles of leaves in autumn, drinking sweet tea on the porch in July, finding the perfect Christmas tree with Papa.
If you're craving charbroiled veal chops, risotto with morels and taleggio, a steaming pot of mussels cooked in white wine with garlic and celery or even old-fashioned, homemade tubes of manicotti overstuffed with fresh ricotta cheese and smothered with sweet, heirloom tomato sauce, then do not go to Tacconelli's.
But if you are craving the best, darkest, most garlicky pizza in the Mid-Atlantic region, do drive -- or find a stranger who has a car so that he can drive you -- to the Port Richmond section of Philadelphia.
Let's face it: eating Asian food doesn't count as diversifying. Houston Hall's sushi, Pod's Pad Thai, Bejiing's fried rice, even Le Anh's chicken lo mein just won't cut it if you're trying to expand your cultural horizons.
Face the facts: you suck at life. Hide behind your Livestrong bracelet and last year's Uggs all you want, but you'll still be a square in hipster's clothing.