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Tag Archives: Pi Phi

50 Shades of Purple, Chapter One

19 Jun

For Morty, the master of my universe

I scowl with frustration at myself in the mirror. Damn my hair — it just won’t behave, and damn that Beverly Brooke for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission. Ugh. FML. I’m suuuuch a Medilldo.

I must not sleep with it wet. I must not sleep with it wet. That’s what she said. Reciting this mantra several times, I attempt, once more, to bring it under control with the brush. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at the pale, brown-haired girl with blue eyes too big for her face staring back at me, and give up. My only option is to restrain my wayward hair in a ponytail and hope that I look semi presentable.

Beave is my roommate, and she has chosen today of all days to succumb to the flu. Therefore, she cannot attend the interview she’d arranged to do, with some mega-brill-brill engineer I’ve never heard of, for The Daily. So I have volunteered. I have finals to complain about, one 500-word article to fabricate, but no — today I have to walk all the way from Pi Phi all the way up to fucking Slivka in order to meet this enigmatic nerd. As an exceptional engineer and son of major Northwestern benefactors, his time is extraordinarily precious — much more precious than mine — but he has granted Beave an interview. A real coup, she tells me. Damn her extra-curricular activities. What is ASG anyways?

“Does, like, vodka and gatorade get rid of the flu?” Beverly asks.

“Sure it does. It’s a disinfectant,” I answer.

Gathering my Steve Madden bag, I smile at her and head out the door. She’ll make an exceptional journalist for Chillicothe Times-Bulletin one day. She’s got talent.

———————————————————

I knock on the door in Slivka. It slowly opens as a tremendous cloud of weed-smoke funnels out.

“Mr. Packingham is out at the moment,” says my interviewee’s roommate, a man who presumably served two years in the Singapore army and is double-majoring in chemistry and K-Pop Studies. “But feel free to come in.”

I check out Packingham’s room. It looks like a cross between an adolescent’s wet dream and Charlie Sheen’s Tuesday morning. Kate Upton and Pippa Middleton adorn walls streaked with what I can only assume is Dmitri vodka and CVS Gold Brand grape soda. An exotic aroma hits my nose, an exquisite fusion of BK, Busch Light, and man musk. Must be a Comm major. I think I need to sit down.

And then, a man enters.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for a Beave. Have you seen one?”

Oh God. Packingham’s a tool. He’s smiling like a Freshman who just got into The Keg.

“Um. Actually–” I mutter. But such a handsome tool.

“Miss Brooke is indisposed, so she sent me. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Packingham.” Eyes like Bill Murray. Complexion like Drake. Body like John Shurna. And, most importantly, a beard like Morty’s.

“And you are?” His voice is warm, possibly amused, definitely slurred a bit. I can’t help but notice the portable beer pong table near his bed.

“Carla Rossi. I’m studying magazine journalism with Beave, um… Miss Brooke in Medill.”

“I see,” he says simply. I can’t help but notice he’s wearing a Sig Nu hoodie. That’s… unexpected.

“Would you like to sit?” He waves me toward a green bean bag chair prominently featuring several suspicious stains.

“I have some questions for you,” I say, catching him looking down my shirt.

“I though you might Carla,” he deadpans.

“Well, let’s get started. I’d like to know what you make of allegations that your father’s donations are the reason Northwestern starts so ungodly late in the calendar year.”

“Bullshit,” Packingham replies.

“Okay, how about suggestions that you once banged Mayor Tisdahl on the roof of Swift?” I try.

“I wish,” the swashbuckling sultan of swag replies.

“Do you have any hobbies?” Butter them up with some puff questions. Medill’s taught me well.

“You know, the usual. Chill with my bros. Drunken Sporcle. Skinny dipping in Lake Michigan with my biddies. Hey Carla, did you know that I’m the reason Selena Gomez decided against becoming a Wildcat? Let’s just say she’s no big fan of the hot cookie bar, if you know what I mean. How about you?”

“Me!?” I ask, surprised. “I mostly complain about how sketch the el is on my way to my internship. I just love the city.”

He smiles, seeming to sense something flutter inside me. Shit! Could he possibly have realized that I can name all 151 original Pokémon in alphabetical order? I thought I had kept that hidden since the Kappa rush debacle of 2011.

“Fine. Last question. Can you comment on the prevailing rumors that you are the man responsible for the invention of the fucksaw—”

“I can’t comment on pending litigation,” he cuts me off, quicker than I awkwardly end conversations on Sheridan.

“Dude, want to play the National Treasure 2 drinking game?” His roommate interrupts.

“Yes, yes I do,” he answers. “Carla,” he says as a farewell.

“Ross,” I reply. And the door, Adele poster and all, comes to a close.

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Oscar Buzzed

24 Jan

In case anyone hasn’t gone on the internet today, the Oscar nominees were announced this morning! A few surprises, some snubs (where was Jack and Jill?!), but mostly just confusion. “What are all these movies about?” you’re thinking, “I have never even heard of them! Whine whine whine, me me me!” Well calm down, Pi Phi! Don’t worry, I’m a film major, I’ll simplify it for you:

The Artist
A haunting look at the life of Van Gogh. Think bright, colorful, and loud.

The smallest man Sean Penn has held in his hands

The Descendants
Surprisingly not about balls.

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
A compilation of home movies depicting your grandfather spurting off racist insults and confusing you with your sister.

The Help
A team of psychiatrists check themselves into a mental hospital for help. Meta!

Hugo
He was probably one of the characters from Jim Henson’s Labyrinth. See how Hugo lives his day to day life!

Midnight in Paris
It’s got Owen Wilson, so you can safely assume it also has Ben Stiller and Luke Wilson. Hilarity will ensue!

Moneyball
Also surprisingly not about testicles.

The Tree of Life
Spin off of Pocahontas.

War Horse
Today I found out it’s War Horse, not Warm Whores. My review stands: It’s about a pathetic creature trying to redeem itself, who probably dies in the end.

Kung Fu Panda 2
Surprisingly, this is about balls!

Even his dog is hot

Drive
Out of the 26 films Ryan Gosling was in last year, this was definitely in the top 30. Watch as Ryan Gosling drives a car around a city! What could be better?! (Nothing. Nothing will ever be better than Ryan Gosling doing anything. I would watch the shit out of a movie about Ryan Gosling trimming his nose hairs.)

Bridesmaids
If you’re stupid enough to be reading this, I know that you saw at least 3 movies this year, and this is one of them. You know the plot: Kristen Wiig is the unconvincing ugly and pathetic friend, and Melissa McCarthy shits in a sink. Someone gets married.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
Like Toy Story, but with Tinker Toys!

Just kidding, I didn’t see any of these films. I’m just an asshole. Here is my actually helpful guide to the Oscars:

The Artist
Should have been called: Look at This Fucking Hipster Film
I would have seen it if it was called: Adorable Dog and Sort of Good Looking Man Make Out

The horror of a desperate Oscar grab

The Descendants
Should have been called: George Clooney Cries and Runs in Hawaii
I would have seen it if it was called: The Descendants Starring Ryan Gosling

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
Should have been called: 9/11 Movie That Has Very Little to Do With 9/11
I would have seen it if it was called: Let’s be real, there was no chance I was seeing this

The Help
Should have been called: Sassy Black Maids Kick Some Sass Sassily
I would have seen it if it was called: Emma Stone Looks Ugly, Don’t You Feel Better About Yourself?

Hugo
Should have been called: Look at Scorsese’s Range!
I would have seen it if it was called: The Adventures of Tintin

Midnight in Paris
Should have been called: Woody Allen Strolls Around Paris in an Owen Wilson Costume
I would have seen it if it was called: Midnight in Amsterdam

Moneyball
Should have been called: Brad Pitt Might Finally Win an Oscar
I would have seen it if it was called: Get Jonah Hill to the Oscars

The Tree of Life
Should have been called: Brad Pitt Might Finally Win an Oscar Pt 2
I would have seen it if it was called: Literally anything else more descriptive would have been great

War Horse
Should have been called: Actually War Horse pretty much sums it up
I would have seen it if it was called: Don’t Worry, He Doesn’t Die

Kung Fu Panda 2
Should have been called: Jack Black is as Fat and Funny as a Panda 2
I would have seen it if it was called: Kung Fu Panda 2 Produced By Pixar

Let's be honest: You just wanted to look at more pictures of Ryan Gosling

Drive
Should have been called: Holy Shit Ryan Gosling Looks So Good Driving Around and Curb Stomping People Please Take Your Shirt Off More That’s All I Ask
I would have seen it if it was called: Holy Shit Ryan Gosling Looks So Good Driving Around and Curb Stomping People Please Take Your Shirt Off More That’s All I Ask

Bridesmaids
Should have been called: Girls Can Make the Funnys, Too
I would have seen it if it was called: Kristen Wiig Dies in the End

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
Should have been called: This Movie is Well Over Two Hours Long
I would have seen it if it was called: Jonathan Tinker Taylor Thomas

Just kidding, that was still unhelpful! I’m still an asshole! Thanks for reading!

Ali Parr