The Mütter Museum

The Mütter Museum is not a great place to take a girl/guy on a date, despite the hand-in-hand couples Drew and I saw on Tuesday as we killed time before the Animal Collective show that evening at the Electric Factory in Philadelphia. Furthermore, the Mütter Museum (run by the College of Physicians of Philadelphia) is not a great place to ever visit if you ever intend to have children.

I don't know why my mind works the way it does, but when I requested of Drew to see "babies in jars," he knew exactly where to take me. In hindsight, I believe I was thinking of the University of Pennsylvania Anthropology Museum, where I was previously informed crazy shit of this nature could be seen. Regardless, the Mütter Museum has an extensive collection of just that, in addition to rubber molds of human facial deformities, a skeleton of a dwarf woman turned prostitute, and other crazy medical-malady specimens. Despite the warnings issued above, anyone with an interest in the medical sciences should visit if they want a true understanding of everything that could go wrong in the biological masterpiece that is the human body.

I had never heard of the museum before, and arguably it's not worth the $8 or $10 they charge students. Nonetheless, I recommend anyone visting/from the iladelph take a look at the website and figure out whether you'd be interested.

Summer

Today marks the first day of my summer vacation, as my dad picked me up and brought me home last night. His Prius was packed and there was no room for my laundry bag after loading up my bike, so the dirty threads had to be tucked in deep corners and the smell was far from pleasant.
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Now that it is summer, I will optimistically tell readers that I'll post something, anything, every other day. There should be no shortage of tales from this rural hellhole.

On that note, my sister told me a wild story today about these twins from my town. I used to ride the schoolbus with these old boys, and they spent many a summer day at the pool I've worked at the past four years. Anyway, since I've been away at school they've become old enough to drive, and she said that there was a pretty lo-fi car accident in our town in which one of them ran into the other. Absolutely absurd!

Three Cheers for America!

Upon returning home to the oddly endearing rural Central PA, it was consensually agreed upon (actually, it was only Rafik and myself, hardly a fair sample) that Pennsyltucky is an incredibly dismal place. As stated, however, there is some unidentifiable quality that gives theis place a 'home-y' feeling. Perhaps this is derived from the fact that my home can actually be found within proximity of the rumored Wal-Mart parking lots and porno stores. But the biggest kick sits only about 200 yards from my house. So, traditionally, everyone that celebrates Christmas hangs up Christmas lights, no? But my neighbors managed to kill two birds with one stone, projecting to the world their blind patriotism in addition to the traditional celebration of Christ's birth with an obnoxiously bright string of red, white, and blue flashing lights. The successful merger of Christianity (or any universal secular holiday) with America always has potential to be a source of immense entertainment.