Top 10 Reasons Why New Englanders are better than you

For those of you wondering why Aviva, Mike Kelley, Lauren and I are such well rounded and wonderful people. The list below should answer any questions you may ask yourself, as you drive down to Jersey to pick up your boxed wine and hookers.

1. Two words: Boat shoes. From gripping the slippery decks of our schooners to the slickly polished floor of Banana Republic, Sperry’s are the quintessential three season shoe. The harsh New England winter is reserved for Uggs and fairisle knit slippers (but only in front of the fireplace surrounded by three generations of the trust fund and your incompetent but faithful golden retriever)

2. Bawston: Ah good old Beantown, home of the infamous tea party. To put it bluntly, a bunch of our wasted forefathers dressed as offensively stereotypical Native Americans and dumped a fortunes worth of the kings’ tea into the Atlantic. In retrospect, the catalyst to our great nation’s independence and first step towards a Starbucks monopoly.

3. Sports: The Red Sox, The Patriots, The Celtics and the Bruins, need I say more? Boston teams and its fans are clearly a force to be reckoned with. Even those who haven’t the faintest clue about team stats or players (or really only watch because of the social aspects/beer/Tom Brady in spandex) can still be a complete ass when the Northeast sweeps an entire year of championships and play-offs. That smell isn’t the Charles River, but the slightly polluted scent of victory.

4. J Crew: Better known as Mecca, J Crew sells anything and everything a true New Englander could need or desire. (Unless you're looking for that elusive article known as dignity) However, whatever said person is lacking in principles and/or judgment can easily be remedied with a seersucker blazer or yet another madras headband. Ethics can’t keep your warm in our subzero winters, but that cashmere cardigan from the monogram shop sure as hell can.

5. Our Foliage: Do you see the magnificent turning leaves on our maples and elms? The swirling crimsons and golds as they drift down from the oaks and birches? The sheer poetry of New England fall foliage is one to be desired and envied, and has inspired generations of artists from the great Walt Whitman to the lowliest finger painter. What, you have changing leaves and autumn in your part of the country too? Well fuck off, ours is better.

6. JAPS and WASPS: Once easily identifiable, the typical New England JAP or WASP is much harder to categorize due to advancements in rhinoplasty and higher frequency of Range Rover dealerships. While they do not better New England in many ways, it’s always fun to watch their squabbles over lawn service providers and Bar-Mitzvah dancers. Many a little league game or PTO meeting has become a hotbed for gratuitous violence. A parents homecoming committee meeting in recent memory resulted in a hospital trip, when a woman was strangled with her own pearls and forced to "bite the curb" by another mother in boat shoes.

7. The Universities: Harvard, Yale, MIT, BC, Emerson, Brandeis, the list goes on and on. While these great schools have always been a source of pride and accomplishment for our community, they all pale in comparison to the fact that Emma Watson now attends Brown. Screw all of your Muggle loving schools, there's a fucking wizard and Burberry model walking down Thayer street.

8. The real melting pot: New England is generally a very liberal and accepting community. No one needs to be ashamed of their race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or religion. However, shame and acceptance into certain country clubs are two entirely different things. One comes with a key to the pool house, and the other comes with the carton of eggs you will use to deface said pool house. Both have their own redeeming qualities.

9. The History: New England has always been deeply rooted in its history and associated traditions. That cobblestone path you are walking on has been trod on by the likes of George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, and the one and only Samuel Adams. With twenty four variations of his beer currently on the market today, the true patriot has been helping ours and future generations live out the original American dream: going home with someone more attractive than you and telling amusing anecdotes about it to your friends and co-workers.

10. The Food: It would be a crime, nay a travesty, to squander number ten on something other than New Englands finest delicacies. Lobster, chowder, baked beans, and of course the magical Dunkin Donuts. One might argue that Dunkin Donuts is a national brand, and totally irrelevant. I would stand there in silence, and then point to the two of them located mere yards away from one another. Then I would ask you to pronounce the words Gloucester and Dorcester, as I proceed to eat a carton of munchkins. Just trying to live the dream.

Social Networking Whoredom

Dictionary Definitions for the websites that take up way too much of my time/one of the main reasons why many of my college brethren cannot hold a lasting face to face conversation.

^{Dictionary Definitions for Social Networking Sites}

Facebook

Definition: 1. Whole novels could have been written, cancer cured, the homeless fed and Darfur saved with the amount of time the world’s population has spent writing posts and going through inane photo booth albums.

2a. Because there is truly nothing classier than taking a self-portrait with your laptop camera, unless it’s a self-portrait superimposed in front of the Eiffel Tower.

2b. Except for the hundreds of photos of yourself intoxicated/high/passed out over a toilet for the world to see. Congratulations, your shining moment has instantly become public property and will come back to haunt you for years, nay generations to come. Enough slander for a future political campaign could be generated from last nights trailer trash themed party, not to mention that the fact that you listed beer pong as one of your “activities.”

Example: “That guy I just cheated off in OChem? Totally friending him.”

Twitter

Definition: 1. A sense of desperation and desire to be accepted paired with the vain hope that someone cares about your dinner plans. Nay, your thoughts on the anticipation of dinner plans.

2. Seeing the same people twitter over and over again about the mundane aspects of their life is comparable to repeatedly stabbing your inner thigh with a dull knife.

3. Blackberries and iphones are like the pipes to these crack messages, which at first begin with a little experimentation and then ultimately lead to incessant posting and our good friend carpal tunnel.

4. The new language that evolved around twitter is incredibly confusing. What the hell do you say, twitted, tweeted, or twat? It is expected that within the year only one term will rise to the top like butter in this churn of utter narcissism and finally be grammatically accepted by both scholars and sycophants alike.

Example: Lolz @hulksmash224 it’s not your kid.

LinkedIn

Definition: 1. Post millennia internet equivalent to sleeping your way to the top. (So I see you’ve added a few more “contacts”) Except this time lowering your standards gets you an extra partition for your cubicle and a reference for your page.

2. Amidst this recession, one has to use every possible means to gain that slight advantage over your equally under qualified peers. Even if it leads to you paying upwards of $25 a month to litter the internet with grammatically incorrect and out of date versions of your resume.

Example: I put my drinking blog and twitter account links on my page, why has no one contacted me?

MySpace

Definition: 1. All but dead save for garage bands unable to afford a website and perverts not hip enough to switch over to Facebook. Myspace has spawned the twisted social networking malcontents we are today.

2. Aside from making you think it’s okay to post pictures of that totally sweet new bong and perfecting the angle from which you can take photos of yourself in the mirror (with the least amount of flash obstruction) Myspace has done very little for society, but add to the population. Unfortunately it was misused as a dating site for some time, and the poor demon seeds will have to be told the origins of their birth. Also why Daddy can’t afford child support because he blew it all on a custom bike. “But it has the entire cast of the Dukes of Hazzard airbrushed on it…”

Example: OH MY G-D WE HAVE THE SAME MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE PAGE LAYOUT

Diary of Matilda, Facebook Farmville character

I hate myself for doing this. Enjoy.


Wednesday

Woke up at the ass crack of dawn to begin my daily toil in the Farmville Fields. The unseen master left me explicit instructions that I must plow to the right of the futile pagoda, and plant Pattypan Squash because he had recently unlocked level sixteen. I am allergic to those bastard gourds and am forced to live off of stolen soybeans. As a result of my poor diet I have had dysentary for some time now, and feel quite weak. The sickenly stale smell of Natural Light wafts from the master’s manor, as he was up all night with the neighbors celebrating a lucrative pumpkin harvest. I shan’t see a dime and he won’t even let me plant aloe vera (from level fourteen) to tend to my various blisters and rake wounds. Oh how they pus and burn. To make matters worse, I am forced to wear an insufferable red bow in my hair and my eyebrows are barely visible. My shame knows no bounds.

Friday

I awoke somewhat later today as it was forecasted to be cloudy, and I would not have to deal with the intolerable cruelty that is the Farmville midday sun. Unfortunately, the clouds quickly released a torrent of rain and enough lightning to make Zeus himself quiver in fear. However, I must press on as to not ruin the strawberry harvest. I once accidentally let the crop wither while my master fell asleep in the library studying for his business ethics exam. As just punishment, he made me sleep outside of the protection of the Farmville cottage for a week. The wolves are ravenous, and travel in packs seeking sheep and weak farmers such as I. Luckily, they could not climb the plum tree I had made myself a sleeping nest in. I grew quite fond of that tree, and was sad when it was sold for thirty coins. The money was most likely spent at the Farmville “massage” parlor, as Master quite enjoys those happy endings. Farewell for now, the duck and pig topiaries need pruning.

Saturday

I have asked incessantly for a tractor to aid me in my chores and give me a free hour or two in the day, but my master has continued to ignore my pleas. Instead of wisely spending his coins on something to keep the farm in a stable economic condition, he blew a substantial amount of coins on garden gnomes at the market today. I believe he was smoking some strain of Farmville marijuana. Today I saw another farmer at the market. He had overalls like mine, and a green mohawk. We both nodded at each other, and I hope we meet again, for I am so very lonely with only the chickens to share my hopes and dreams.

*Later that night

I awoke to a knock on my sleeping cupboard only to discover the boy with the mohawk and overalls. He silently motioned me to join him into the night, and being an innocent and naive soul I quickly followed. He led me to a hut in the forbidden Farmville woods, where I met dozens of other sad and malnourished farmers such as myself. They spoke of evil words such as "mutiny," and "uprising" and "union." I clasped my hands over my ears to muffle out the horrid sounds, but they were forcibly ripped off my head and I was pushed to the ground. A girl farmer readied her arm to throw an eggplant at my frail frame, and I raised an arm in withering defense. In the nick of time my friend with the mohawk reached out before the aubergine could hit me, deflecting it and sending it sailing towards a plaster bust of Mark Zuckerberg's head. It fell to the ground and instantly shattered, sending an audible gasp throughout the crowd.

"Enough." Spoke my friend. "For too long have we stood in the shadows, hiding behind our groovy scarecrows and pink hay bales. I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of woes and shattered shields, when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight!"

The crowd cheered, and he was lifted amongst shoulders and carried out of the cabin. I was happy to have shared his shining moment with him, and didn't feel it was necessary to tell anyone he had ripped off his entire speech from Return of the King.

Sunday

I wear a mask and gloves. My breaths come short and rapid as I fumble with my semi-automatic and flamethrower. It is time to take back Farmville for ourselves. As I run into the night amongst my farm brethren free of fear, free of hunger, free of pain, I realize what I have been denied. Too long have I been shackled with these fields of wheat and pineapples, which doesn't even make geographical or meteorologic conditional sense. I cannot take back my youth or my optimism, but I can damn well take back my dignity.