Memoir-ial Day Weekend

I went to Philadelphia with some friends for Memorial Day weekend, and I suppose that's as good a topic as any other to talk about. Naturally, I took one of the chinatown buses, which is definitely the best way to travel up and down the east coast. Those of you who know me well understand that when I say "best" I really mean "cheapest." I find it funny that they actually have websites with bus timetables and stuff, because it really doesn't matter. Buying your ticket online is a meaningless gesture. All you do is show up with some cash, get on a bus, and when that bus gets full it leaves. It's really more like smuggling than traveling. I've literally traveled on a bus that was supposed to be sold out, but they gave me a ticket nonetheless and as we were pulling out I saw people standing on the sidewalk holding their printed-out tickets and looking confused. ...On second thought, I feel bad about that story. But you get the point. This time around on the chinatown bus, I noticed the driver moving some suspicious-looking black garbage bags from one bus to another. I'm not going to speculate on this one and will instead plead ignorance - What I don't know can't hurt me (or implicate me as a drug mule).

Anyways, on Saturday we walked around the City of Brotherly Love. As you can see, we went to Independence Hall ("Jump for democracy!"). It was crazy to think that I was standing in the same place where Nicholas Cage stood four long years ago, when he uncovered the special bifocals that Benjamin Franklin made so that he could view a treasure map on the back of the Declaration of Independence. What can I say - I'm a history buff!

You can see on the right-hand side of the picture the massive line of people trying to see the Liberty Bell. However, there are windows right by the bell that allow you to see it from the outside. And what's even better about the windows is that you can also point and laugh at the people who waited an hour to see an old cracked bell.

We walked down Market Street, and I think it was "Hate White People Day" because there were several groups set up with microphones or megaphones talking about white people. I'm not saying they were 100% incorrect with their assessments; I'm just saying that it was awkward. I thought about shrugging and saying "Sorry?" when I walked past, but I decided against it.

Then we sort of did a bar hop up and down South Street. Here's Sam and I at Fat Tuesday enjoying a beer that tastes as cold as the Rockies. Speaking of which, how long do you think beer companies are going to ride this whole "cold taste" bandwagon? It begs the question: are they retarded for not understanding that cold is actually a tactile sensation and not a taste, or are we retarded for allowing that to actually be a selling point? Maybe the beer companies will stop talking about it if everyone starts using it as a reason why they don't like a particular beer: "Why don't you like Bud Light?" "Eh, it tastes way too cold. I need something a little warmer tasting, that's all."

Later on that night, on our way to do karaoke we hit a pothole so big that it actually flattened both tires on the driver's side of the car:































I stood in the pothole, thinking it would be a great way to illustrate how big it was:

Instead it just looks a crazy man standing on an invisible surfboard in the street (which you can probably see every Saturday night in D.C.). Still though, I think you can tell the ridiculousness from this picture:

Look at that thing. That straight line you see across the top is actually a T. Rex femur - that's how deep this hole is.

So basically, I learned that Philadelphia is a fun city with history, some cool bars, poorly maintained roads, and roughly two duck tours per every one human being. Hope everybody else had a great holiday.