Q&A with cast members of MTV’s “College Life”
By MARY MANCHESS | Apr. 15, 2009What happens in college often tends to stay in college.
What happens in college often tends to stay in college.
Mosh pits and skanking aren't usually associated with helping the needy.
Here's something to sing about: Your classes are winding down, the air is getting warmer and, to top it off, all of your favorite musical artists are coming to a town near you this summer. If you can break away from the beach (or your summer job, you overachiever), you won't want to miss these gigs.
Sex is a never-ending complex. It shouldn't be that complicated, but it is.
Danger is sexy when you're in college. It's a short time in your life when you can get away with making bad decisions. And nothing's more of a turn-on than knowing something can go wrong at any minute.
Lil Wayne is the voice of our generation.
For most, the start of the new year signaled a fresh beginning, but for Polaroid film it marked the end of an era. Last year Polaroid announced that it would stop making instant film, and it should be phased out of stores by 2009. To many people in this digital age, Polaroids are no more than ancient relics, but to those in fashion, art and photography industries they are very much alive.
Behind every great production is a great costume designer. After all, what would Sex and the City have been without Patricia Field's stylistic talents?
Grab your tie-dye, your peace signs and your anti-war slogans - it's time to let your hair down and let the sun shine.
Brody Jenner stared at me from the other side of my TV, spray-tanned and wide-eyed. "What's a bromance?" he asked, incredulously. As if I should innately grasp the homosocial premise for his new series. Uh, you tell me - dude.
Right now, high school seniors all over the country are hearing back from colleges and preparing to take that next big step into college. For nostalgia's sake, let's recall what was running through our minds as we read our own college acceptance letters:
"Who's Tebow?" asked Michael Murray, lead guitarist of the band The Banner Year.
A flurry of colors and designs ranging from cartoon floral prints to men on fishing boats adorn the kimonos now on display at the Harn Museum. One "little boy kimono" is embellished with images of battle ships and airplanes flying over water, which signifies the mark of World War II. Many of the women's kimonos display vibrant colors and geometric shapes. These were to mimic the idea of "art deco," influenced from Western culture. Fashioning Kimono, the exhibit flaunting numerous types of kimonos, dates from the late 19th century to early 20th century.
I must confess, I have never read "Watchmen." So I can't speak of the movie's faithfulness to "the most celebrated graphic novel of all time." But I can tell you that one of the most anticipated movies of this year delivered on its big blockbuster promise.
And ignorance claims another victim - Matthew Meltzer.
When you throw a festival of some sort, typically it is supposed to be in a location that has something to do with what the festival is about.
Noisy, surging guitars; octopus-arm polyrhythms; Bono hollering on like a hopped-up Pentecostal preacher; spectacularly transparent declarations of purpose whooped in flailing whoa-oh frenzy. These are the first sounds of "No Line On the Horizon," U2's new album, and they combine to say what, with this band, goes without saying: This is a statement.
Oh, glorious day. Spring break is finally here.
What do you get when you mix Fugazi with The Beach Boys?
Emil Svanängen is moving on up, literally. Having recorded his first album on a laptop microphone and CD-Rs in his mother's cellar, the Swedish popsmith now makes a big enough name for himself to afford real studio equipment, a high-end computer, and presumably, his own home. In keeping with the little-guy theme, "Dear John" comes off like techno-fied Belle and Sebastian - Svanängen sings in breathless, hushed tones, as if trying to carry on a conversation in a library after running a marathon. Most of these songs flirt with electronic chamber pop, veering at alternate forks into "Phantom of the Opera"-esque theatrics ("Harm") and somber, Postal Service dance tunes ("Summers," which would fit snuggly on "Give Up"). If there's a turnoff, it's that a lot of these tracks are too prettily twee for their own good, like a good-looking guy who never makes the first move. And winds up living in his parents' basement.