Silly me. Here I had thought all the brouhaha over my Hamster Hot Air Ballon piece was over and done with two years ago. However, that just doesn't seem to be the case. Apparently several animal loving - Birkenstock wearing - save the rainforest - hippie cock smokers have taken it upon themselves to chastise my actions on numerous animal cruelty websites.

Look people, I don't tell you how to treat your pets, let's not preach to me about how a hamster should or should not be treated. To that affect, I have bought a new hamster. I would like to introduce you to my newest roommate, Vincent. His life cost only $3.99, plus tax, at our local pet store - what a great buy!

To all you hamster loving freaks out there, because of your unnecessary stupidity, I am issuing you a declaration: Either I receive $500 by December 5th, 2004, or poor little Vincent is going to be rigged up to a dozen mylar balloons and sent deep into the upper atmosphere.

Check out the Save Vincent! section for pictures, donation info and the official digital countdown until his demise. Hopefully you can assemble some sort of campaign to spare his life -- otherwise the furry fucker is going to be the next hamster cosmonaut. And so help me God, if you people continue to send me more and more poorly written emails spouting nonsensical gibberish, I will just throw the little bitch in a blender and be done with it.

Well, it's official: I'm 22 years old and I'm still alive. Unfortunately, turning 22 really isn't all that special - it's one more year closer to the ever-impending real-world, the realization that I have to get a job, and a brutal reminder that I shouldn't be hitting on high school girls anymore.

You may be curious about the picture to the right, allow me to explain.

Instead of casually going out to the bar for a couple of drinks like most normal people do on their friend's birthday, my boys decided to literally kidnap me from my room. This past Tuesday evening, I opened my door expecting to find my friends ready for a night of festivities, only to discover them standing there dressed in ski masks. They then proceeded to bum-rush tackle me, throw a pillow case over my head and wrap duct tape around my hands and wrist. I was then thrown into the back of a minivan, driven to the bar at speeds well above the posted 25-mph limit -- the entire time being forced to listen to Gladiator's soundtrack blasting as loud as humanly possible (they later explained that this was the scariest music they could find in their CD collection).

So yeh, you can see all the glorious photos from my birthday night in the senior year section. Enjoy.

PS. New Hatemail and an Aim Annoyance for your reading pleasure.

So yeh, how many of you can say that you've brought a 65 year old woman to a late-night keg session where she raged out until 6 o' clock in the morning... because I can.

Just who exactly is this woman? No, it's not my grandmother, although she certainly looks the part. Meet Susan, a drunken gray-haired townie that my friends and I met at our local bar last Thursday night. Read more about Susan's crazy adventure on her very own page, complete with pictures and videos!

I updated the site with more pictures taken from this past weekend. Take a gander. Speaking of pictures, I had asked my buddy Killer Mike to snap some photos of our date party for Modified Living. Not only did put himself in every picture, but he made the same fucked up "Ouch, it's in my pooper" pose throughout them all.

Killer, you wanted to have your picture online, well here you go: The Many Faces of Killer Mike

Over the course of my college career I've come to look upon myself as a highly knowledgable observer of the infamous Sorority Girl. I've dated them, slept with them, had classes with them and judging from the fact that it burns when I pee, probably caught a few STDs from them (just kidding Mom). I'd even go so far as to wager that 95% of any girl that I regularly associate with at this school is in a sorority. Combine this with my pseudo attempt at sociological academia, and I'm pretty much qualified to critique and assess the sorority world with accurate detail and astute observation.

In this first month of school, in-between begining classes, getting blacked out nightly and starting more drama than a Spanish soap opera, I've been forced to witness the utter stupidity that is the sorority rush process. More or less, it's a giant meat market of assorted sophomore tenderloins, rump-roasts, and breasts - with each sorority measuring and comparing their options and choices. Ultimately, the final decision comes down to the hierarchical pecking order of sorority popularity. Naturally, the hot sororities get the hotter pledge class, while the fat and ugly ones get the leftover scraps.

By now, some of you may be thinking that I'm nothing more than an arrogant prick for turning the beloved institution of sisterhood into a glorified beauty pagent. If you happen to be one of those silly bastards who actually think that, let's step off our golden chariots of sisterly love for just one second and I'll gladly welcome you back to reality.

Consider for a moment the amount of superficiality, backstabbing, bitchiness, alcohol consumption, drug usage and sexual energy that makes up the life of a sorority girl. It literally transforms wholesome and kind-hearted young women into certifiably crazy bitches.

Which would seem to bring us to the question, "Aren't all sorority girls essentially the same then?" Yes, while it's true that many can be grouped together as a generality of college life, it's important to examine them through a more personal, micro-perspective, in order to see their true nature.

Through this analysis, just like with Frat Files, I've broken down the sorority queendom into specific stereotypical roles and identities that almost every sisterhood has. Maybe your constant blackout adventures have elevated you to "Sloppy Drunk" level, or perhaps you've been drilled more times than an Iraqi oil field just like the "Promiscuous Whore." Whatever your angle is, Sorority Files should provide you with yet another classic look into the Greek world.

Also, take a gander at Sorority Gear to make sure your threads and accessories are up to par with the latest sorority hotness. And in case you missed the previous update, I've posted some photos to the Senior Year Pictures section. Finally, DJ $crilla has got some new songs for your listening pleasure - check it out, bitches.

Alright, so Sorority Files is literally 95% complete. I just need to crop a couple more images and fine tune my grammar, spelling and punctuation. No more than a week, I promise this time.

In the mean time, I've posted quite a few pictures from the other night in the newly created Senior Year Pictures section. They should definitely keep you entertained... the theme of the party was "Slutty School Girls and Dirty Old Men" - don't worry, I rocked a sweet sweater-vest and badass polyester pants that would make any sketchball proud.

Well, I don't know about you people, but I had yet another enjoyable summer where I ignored any job that might be somewhat associated with the real-world or "getting my act together." Instead, I followed the old reliable route of so many... summer camp employment.

Riddle me this: why find a real job that you will probably hate when you can be paid the same amount for running around with little kids, going swimming and flirting with your underage female co-workers?

Oh yeh, and speaking of badass, check out my short bus. It was simply a dream come true to drive this tricked out tart-cart every morning and afternoon. And in case you ladies were wondering, the answer's "yes" - the stop sign works, lights and all.

Shifting topics, over the summer I received a short letter from my fraternity's national office regarding this website. In their little attempt at intimidation, they claimed I was in violation of some sort of copyright/trademark issue with respect to my image of the blow-up sex doll being anally mounted on the flagpole of our chapter house (since the words "Delta Upsilon" appeared on the image).

Honestly, what a weak attempt guys. I'm no lawyer, but that is pretty much the shittiest argument I have ever heard. Sure, you may have copyright control over the DU name, logos, etc., but there is nothing about this situation that would have me believe that I've even come remotely close to breaking the law. It's a good thing that I am so well versed in internet law and know my constitutional rights like an Asian knows martial arts and sticky rice. What this all boils down to is a situation in which some "old balls" forgot what it's like to be in college and consequently got their panties into a bundle.

However, it's been rumored that I am one of the nicest people I have ever met. Given that fact, and out of the kindness of my heart, I cropped the image to take away any mention of Delta Upsilon. Enjoy. Oh yeh, to you old guys who sent me the pseudo-legal threat, I'm not going to reply back to your letter with one of my own because, well frankly, I don't have a stamp and procuring one would waste far too much effort. Since you seem to enjoy reading my website in the first place, consider yourself notified.

Now that I think about it, it's pretty sad that these guys over at DU headquarters have nothing better to do than pursue stuff like this. How in the hell would something so trivial come to their attention? Furthermore, and perhaps more importantly, why would they want to waste four dollars on certified mail when they could be spending it on something better? If you want my opinion (which you most certainly do since are you came to this site in the first place), I think their time and money would be better used trying to actively help their chapters rather than roaming around the smut of the internet.

I'm not sure what's more sad, the fact that some balding 55 year-old man has the job of browsing the internet in search of anything that could tarnish the DU name or the fact that I have old men looking at my website. Hey gramps, just because you may have been a frat guy back in the 1960s and possibly drank a beer or two, that doesn't give you the right to think you are sweet enough to handle this website. Go read grammysex.com - it may be more up your alley. You old, sick fuck.

Well, that about finishes this opening day update. Remember to stay tuned to Modified Living this entire school year. It should get mighty interesting and I've got a couple of tricks up my sleeve that won't disapoint.

Ciao.

It's that time again... yet another summer is upon us.

I've posted a couple pictures from our "Senior Week" trip down to Hilton Head. It was a great little escape after being cooped up for months in central Pennsylvania. Highlights included sun, sand, grain-alcohol, an Asian doing the backstroke naked in front of several horrified sorority girls, and driving grandma bicycles drunk at 4 o' clock in the morning.

The only downside to the whole week was the grueling 13 hour car ride which really took a toll on my A.D.D. Naturally, I ended up spazzing out about halfway trough the trip with only a cell phone bowling game and doodling aimlessly to keep me entertained. At one point, I decided to make inappropriate signs to put in the car window. We started off with a sure-fire oldie but goodie: "Honk 4 Jesus." Apparently your average evening commuter traveling down I-95 doesn't support J.C. because we sure didn't hear too many horns. I tried another angle and produced a "Jesus Loves Boobs" sign which got us one laugh and several menacing glares. Of course, that just led to a "Show Us Your Tits" sign which proved to be somewhat disappointing.

During one fit of boredom, I jotted down some sites for my new links page which replaces the old one I used to have. Additionally, I made a site index. Not very exciting, I know - but, it kept me entertained for a good 45 minutes otherwise I was liable to have a seizure.

Well, that about wraps up this little update. Have a great summer everyone and remember to check back for minor updates in the next couple months.

Earlier in the year, a legitimate porn website asked if I wanted to become an affiliate member - more or less advertising their smut and debauchery to my target audience for a paid fee.

As tempting as this offer sounded, I was under the impression that if I were to freely endorse and glorify the beautiful world of bukkake facials, anal rimming and no-holds-barred 6-on-1 midget gang bangs, my parents would undoubtedly refuse to pay my college tuition.

It would've certainly been a conversation piece at the next family gathering:

"So Noah, what's new in your life? How's school treating you?"

"Um, well I recently saw video of a girl getting a Cleveland Steamer... that rocked."

Sorry, I digress... as I was saying, since I couldn't (with good conscience) whore my site out to the pornographic playground that is the internet, I decided to make my own porno site. Without further ado, I present to you: Amish Porn.

Essentially, it's a look at what would happen if the sexual deviants of the Amish community got ahold of a computer and created their own porn site - they are some pretty fucked up people if you ask me.

Make sure you read the Erotica section - it's been dedicated to a very special someone close to my heart. Shauna, I'm looking at you.

I know, sweet banner, right? Look at the fear in their eyes... so friggin' sexy.

What happens when you take a Good ol' boy from Fort Thomas, Kentucky and place him in a college environment where he is surrounded by upperclass east-coast kids with trust funds larger than the refugee population of Somalia?

Um, well, you get a kid who looks painstakingly out of place and slightly socially awkward, but more importantly, you get the first ever John Colebrook Metrosexual Week!

Here's the breakdown of the rules for this week-long event:

1) John was forced to get a trendy haircut and must use any combination of styling products - including, but not limited to: hair gel, fiber creme pomade, mousse and sculpting paste.

2) John must shower and shave daily regardless of his self-perceived level of cleanliness.

3) Every day, a different peer is to dress John according to their own personal tastes in the realm of Metrosexualness and/or Country Club attire - neither of which has ever touched the skin of a man from Kentucky.

I'm almost positive that if his family and friends back home were to see these pictures they would certainly disown him, or perhaps even worse, prohibit him from marrying his cousin. You can see John's daily pictures as well as some before shots here.

On to other news...

I was asked to write a brief summary about my fraternity for our page in the school yearbook - even though we were suspended by the University until 2006. Anyways, I thought I wrote a pretty touching and compelling tribute to the lasting legacy of our wonderful organization; however it would seem that the yearbook advisor thought otherwise. Read my initial summary as well as the ensuing e-mail war that followed.

Finally, a quick plug:

Busted Tees, which brings tons of T-shirts to all you posers who love the look of a thrift store shirt, but are too afraid to go to one - fearing that you may see a person of color.