Fraternity Life
Northern Exposure

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Uncle Bob: F | Grade It Now!
Northern Exposure

Paul tries to be that monkey stepping up to the plate and instantly gets handfuls of chimp feces thrown at him as he tries to explain that they have to work together. The rest of the guys stand around whining and bitching about various crap. I have no idea what they're bitching about, but I can transcribe portions of it for you: "Dude, you're [bleep] a [bleep] and he wants to [bleep] a [bleep] so I [long bleep] and that's [bleep]. So [bleep]." "Oh really, [bleep]? Then [bleep] yourself and [bleep] the [bleep] because [bleep] your [bleep] a [bleep]!" I mean, they could be dogging each other's grandmothers. I dunno. Anyway, they've apparently been trying to get to the CN Tower for an hour and finally get to it. They get up there, and the floor is made of glass. They make the Sigma Chi Omega symbols with cigarettes on the glass floor (which is giving me vertigo), snap a photo, and they're outta there. That only took two and a half hours out of six. This is the future of America, people. No wonder Johnny Depp moved to France.

Next, they're out to find Wayne Gretzky's hockey puck and stick. They go to his restaurant and all decide that they need a beer. Maybe it's the urgency of the constant "Time Left" reminders that MTV is bombarding us with, but I'm screaming at my television, "You don't have time for beers, you morons!". So they're toasting and relaxing, because they have three hours left to find all this other stuff. They casually ask the manager where the stick and puck are, and he says they donated it all to the Hockey Hall of Fame. So they've wasted more time sipping their beers in a place that doesn't have what they need. They decide to go to the Hockey Hall of Fame. Jarreau suggests taking a taxi. Each of the pledges fight the urge to pimpslap his whiny taxi-worshipping ass. They go outside to leave and leave Tim inside. Tim finds the hockey stick and puck in a glass case, proving that the manager of the restaurant doesn't know shit about his own restaurant and has been made to look like a buffoon on national TV. When in Toronto, eat at Gretzky's! Alex rationalizes that, had they never had those beers, Tim would have never found the stick, thus shoving all the things I said about them being idiots back in my face. Fine, Alex. You may have won this war, my crafty little underwear model-looking pygmy. But from here on out, I plan to be one step ahead of you. Next is the waterfront pictures, which wasn't too hard. They find a boat, they snap some photos, and it's done. Next is the pictures of hot chicks (not whores). They find some junior high school girls walking down the street and take pictures with them. Done.

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Fraternity Life




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