Posts Tagged ‘JerBear’

Misguided Travel Guide: Humble, Texas

After four years at Rice even the most reclusive among us tend to pick up at least a little bit of knowledge about Houston, such as where the closest Whataburger is and what animals have lately been caught in precarious yet adorable situations thanks to the H-Chron’s hard-hitting reporting. However, when it comes to Houston’s surroundings, I’m guessing most of you only know where to find the airport, pretty much the only reason normal people visit Humble, Texas. As an un-normal person whose fiance happens to live there, I can fill you in on what you’ve been missing.

1. Its Wikipedia Page

My favorite fact about Humble is definitely that its Wikipedia Page features this picture prominently:

You Know Your Town Is Classy when the Highway Exit to get to it is a "Point of Interest"

You Know Your Town Is Classy when the Highway Exit to get to it is a "Point of Interest"

2. The Dump

Now with ravenous bands of seagulls!

Now with ravenous bands of seagulls!

Little known fact: all of Rice’s trash ends up here in the Atascocita Landfill! If you ever want to revisit that old 80s costume you couldn’t bear to look at anymore or the Bio homework you threw out after you dropped being a premed and started having a life, Humble is the place to go! This is by far the biggest and most important aspect of Humble. Apart from the airport, natch.

3. It’s Pronounced without the “H”

The first time I heard about Humble was on my second date with Steven Wiggins (the first being Screw Date), during which a drunk man at a bowling alley told us that his girlfriend was also from there, and that she often beat him for pronouncing the “H”.

Drunk Man: Man, how am I supposed to know you don’t say the H, man? It has an H! What are we, man, French or something?
Steven: Lots of people make that mistake. It’s no big deal.
Drunk Man: (big, scared eyes) My girlfriend once kicked me right in the balls for saying the H. (to me, loudly) DON’T SAY THE H! WHATEVER YOU DO!
Me: Okay.
Drunk Man: Okay. (pause) Do you want to be on my bowling league?

Naturally, this made a lasting impression.

4. “The Fast Food Capital of Texas”

Steven’s particular suburb of Humble, Atascocita, touts itself on its own website as being “The Fast Food Capital of Texas”, an impressive claim, which they back up with the admittedly solid evidence of this logo collage:

Hey, at least they're proud

Hey, at least they're proud

MS Paint: clearly the best way to prove any point. I’m not sure if this claim is legitimately true, but they do have at least six Sonics within a ten minute radius of Steven’s house. He already google Earthed our apartment in Chapel Hill next year and discovered the nearest Sonic is thirty minutes away. He has thus deemed Chapel Hill a “thirsty wasteland”.

5. The Park That Claims to have Buffalo

When I first went to this park, on the shores of murky Lake Houston, I kept seeing these signs for buffalo but was unable to locate them:

Granted, it's a confusing sign. Is it a buffalo or Jeremy Caves?

Granted, it's a confusing sign. Is it a buffalo or Jeremy Caves?

I guess I was envisioning herds of mighty bison having free run of the park, crashing children’s birthday parties and smashing the pinatas beneath their hooves. In reality this is not a “Caution: Buffalo” sign but a “This way, down a road that looks closed you can see some clearly malnourished and miniature buffalo” sign. I guess I just didn’t realize that the drawing on the sign is actually to scale. In conclusion: Buffalo at Humble’s parks=mad anti-climactic.

Roadtrip: Staving Off Adulthood One Tourist Trap At A Time

Almost exactly one year ago, I was sitting in Scotland, wondering why it was so cold in March, when everyone knows it should be at least 80. I’m not really clear on what the temperature actually was since I never bothered with converting from Celsius since the equation would inevitably be: 9C/5 + 32= TOO COLD. Anyway, I was also wondering if I could actually spend not one but two more summers explaining to disgruntled people why the library doesn’t shelve books by color for minimum wage. So I started plans for the roadtrip to end all roadtrips, designed to cover everything anyone abroad had ever asked me about America. See, when I first got there, I had a lot of conversations like this:

Scottish person: You’re from America! That’s cool! Have you been to LA? Have you seen Zac Efron?
Me: No. And no.
Scottish person: New York?
Me: I mean… this one time in middle school… okay, not really.
Scottish person: The Grand Canyon?
Me: I mean… it’s just a big hole in the ground…
Scottish person: Wait, so… where in the States are you from?
Me: Florida. Texas. Kind of.
Scottish person: Miami?
Me: No… it’s like a ten hour drive from my house.
Scottish person: Right. Okay. (awkward silence)

So that’s why the tentative route looks something like this:
Read the rest of this entry »

Thomas: The Exit Interview

After spending a full three days at Rice–including being kidnapped by freshmen a few times–I decided to give my younger brother Thomas an exit interview to see if the Ladd Awesomeness will continue at Rice long after I am gone.

Me: What did you think of the Servery?
Thomas: Better than I expected. And surprisingly easy to sneak in to.

Me: Who would win in a fight: the third floor pigeon or the fourth floor rat?
Thomas: The fourth floor rat because the pigeon has eggs to protect. The rat has nothing to lose and can use that to his advantage.

Me: What would you say is the number one threat to student safety on Rice campus?
Thomas: You. You and your List of Things To Do This Semester. You and your aggression towards JerBear.
Me: Who’s JerBear?
Thomas: Jeremy [Caves].
Me: Why do you call him JerBear?
Thomas: He’s cuddly. And has a typewriter.

Me: Who would win in a fight: JerBear or Roque?
Thomas: Roque. Because solar panels beat typewriters. And bears.

Jeremy: Hey, I talked to my parents and they said it was totally cool for you to stay at our house on your road trip.
Me: Cool. Also, would it be okay if I called you ‘JerBear’ from now on?
Jeremy: No, that would not be okay.
Thomas: I’m doing it. It must be cool.
Jeremy: You’re leaving so I don’t care. (turns back to me) You can’t.
Me: Okay, we’ll talk about it later.
Jeremy:CAN’T. (walks away)
Me: Yeah, we’ll see.

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