JMU went for some Virginia school bragging rights by throwing a flash mob rave Sunday night in the lobby of their East Campus Library to help burn off some exam stress. The mob appeared about 9:35 p.m. and within minutes the sound system was overrun by a DJ bringing on crowd surfing and stage diving from the second floor.

JMU used to be where Hokies went to hunt down and tag a slump buster but now I think they just could hang out and party with us if they wanted to.

I suppose its only fair to post the FXCO reply video to my earlier posting of “Arlington: The Rap” - unfortunately Fairfax sucks so much worse than A-Town that its more depressing than funny to watch. They did at least visit a Chipotle …

Hasbro’s “Transformers” toy line received a shot to the arm from Jerry “Blow Up The Exploding Explosion” Bruckheimer’s (EDIT: Michael “Turn up the bass on the sunset” Bay’s) recent films… Unfortunately, the blockbuster movies did not try very hard at updating the robots for 2009 and kept with the early 80’s creatures having the ability to transform from dated objects such as trucks, planes, and tanks. If they decide to make a third Transformers film - and I am sure they will - I think the following robots would represent a much more suitable modern day lineup of friends and foes to run around with Toe Thumb and Drunk Shit:

REDBOXACON: Always prepared to offer the latest romantic comedy for only a buck a night, REDBOXACON dwells among us in suburban sprawls. As an Autobot his powers are as limitless as his number of DVD titles, just don’t expect there to be a copy of Bride Wars the day it comes out.

WHOLEFOODSCYLON: Just when you thought the Whole Foods salad bar couldn’t get any more intense, WHOLEFOODSCYLON’s fist will come flying out of the Chinese snow peas. This Deceptacon does NOT allow sampling, and at $6.99 a pound its really the best death machine deal in town.

LABRATRON: A combination of Autobot, Labrador Retriever, and Poodle, Labratron is mankind’s last hope and best friend. A special breed created specifically to not shed hair, this little fellow springs to life when ethnic strangers come by. His sidekick “Plasticbagatron” is never too far away to pick up the pieces left by this fierce warrior robot.

DIVORCEACON: More than meets the sixteen eyes… DIVORCEACON is a Decepticon disguised as the 8 Gosselin children. This overbearing ‘bot puts undue pressure on otherwise happy marriages and causes honest spouses to stray -usually to a slutty co-worker or thoughtful gay friend.

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Occasionally, after drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, you become extremely motivated about some particular topic of conversation and then when the buzz wears off you question how you ever found the topic even remotely interesting, let alone worthy of extended conversation. Last weekend a debate over the “Best East Coast Supermarket Chain” erupted. It was resolved in a seeded bracket system (taking in to account overall value, selection, fresh and prepared foods, and store quality)… I feel compelled to show the results below. This drunkbate did not include big-box stores such as Costco, Walmart, or Target.

We might as well have been deciding whether to launch a nuclear attack on North Korea when we were deciding this thing, and many match-ups went to diplomatic debate involving Robert’s Rules. But again, once sober, I have no clue why this was such an engaging debate.

My buddy’s blog post about the affordability of housing in Washington made me curious of whether or not I could afford one of the SMALLEST homes in all of suburban Washington DC.

I believe I have found this “home of my dreams” in Old Town Alexandria. There is a tiny house on the brick lined sidewalks of Queen Street which has been called affectionately a “spite house” –or a house built just out of spite. The house was built in 1830 by a home owner who lived next to an alleyway thoroughfare used by horse-drawn wagons. The man was sick of horses taking shits all over the walls and on the ground near his home and didn’t want to put up with any more horse-like bullshit. In response to the feces, he erected a house in between his own and his neighbor’s across the alley.

The home is  7 feet wide, 25 feet deep for a total of 325-square-foot spread out over two-stories. Its walls are still made from the neighboring homes’ exterior and still contain gouges from wagon-wheel hubs and horse ass. A family of three currently live there. Granted there may be homes smaller than this one, or in a crappier neighborhood, or perhaps buying a condo efficiency would be cheaper, but if I am going to live like I am on the bottom deck of a Carnival Celebration cruise boat I think I should at least get to live in a nice area and without condo fees.

According to Zillow.com this tiny house is worth approximately $292,000.

I can’t afford this price. FML.

Things get weird 1:30 in to the video…

EDIT: This was once an amazingly bizarro video with Helen Hunt and that cat that plays the piano set to Haul and Oats. Now it is a blank link removed by youtube. Meh, probably for the better, I don’t want future generations associating this crap with me.

So there is this book that says you should not eat “THAT!” and it shows you a steaming hot pile of gooey cheese fries covered in ranch sauce weighing in at 2900 calories and next to that it will say instead eat “THIS!” and it shows a steaming hot plate of sweet and breaded Bloomin’ Onion weighing in at 2893 calories. (You may have seen this in Men’s Health magazine actually.)

Well, today while awaiting an install of new tires on my car (I failed state inspection 7 different ways) I walked in to the local Barnes and Nobel and began flipping through this “No-Diet Weight Loss Solution” book. I flipped to the Chipotle page and took note. They labeled the Chicken Burrito (THAT) as “Worst Mexican Entre” and instead recommend (THIS) a Chicken Burrito Salad (skipping out on the buttery rice and calorie loaded tortilla but strangely it didn’t say anything about the fatback dressing).

I also was unaware that book stores do not take fondly of people taking pictures of their products.

So I figured what the Hell… hundreds and hundreds of Chipotle burritos in my life and I have never once tried 1/5 of the menu possibilities represented by the Salad. I walked down a few doors to where the Chipotle was and stood in line. I actually felt a little bad when I walked up and faced the counter to order - like I was turning my back on beloved Chipotle or eating a Q-Doba lime chicken burrito as I stood there. I quietly spoke out “Chicken Bur- er… salad… black beans” and continued down the line. The guy in front of me, seemingly taunting my EAT THIS decision ordered a double meat and guacamole behemoth which pushed his burrito’s tortilla to an A-Rod forearm sized bulge. I paid and sat down and sighed at the step I was about to take. It felt like the whole restaurant was staring at me, calling me a “burrito pussy” under their breath. “No… you’re the pussies” I thought as I dumped half a bottle of Tabasco in to the mountain of food in front of me, attempting to restore some manhood to my meal.

I took a bite. Then another. Man THIS is pretty good! I devoured the entire bowl of greens and spicy toppings in record time and felt satisfied at both the flavor and saving 700 calories. I don’t know if I would follow the logic and instructions of the book for a complete diet (after all if a Triple Whopper with Cheese already crosses your mind during lunch time decisions, chances are you are going to die of a heart attack within the next 40 seconds) but I can say this book showed me an amazing meal in my own wheelhouse, and I am both astonished and humbled.

Then I went and ate some fucking Cold Stone Creamery. THAT shit is good.