In My Neighborhood (Delco Special) Here is a pretty entertaining video found on youtube describing a bunch of different Delco Girls. Thanks Big Shommy Love for making it.
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Darts“I can still hear the screams in my nightmares,” he tells me.
Sitting across from me at the bar, my young Ridley Park friend is unable to bring the lit match to his cigarette. His hands are trembling too fiercely. Under normal circumstances, my comrade and I would be swapping jokes and sharing new stories - but not tonight. Tonight, I find my friend fraught with distress – to which the source was unbeknownst to me. I calm him down - tell him it’s OK. I light the cigarette for him and tell him to sip his drink. It’ll help. After a minute, he steadies himself. With his eyes locked on the bar floor tiles, he takes another drag. When he exhales, the smoke ominously creeps upward until it finally settles above his head as if to signify the cloud of terror that has followed my grief-stricken pal for the past few weeks. “OK, buddy,” I say reassuringly as I put my hand on his shoulder. “Start from the beginning.” The cigarette is hauled up to his lips again and he begins… Now I am not 100% certain that the story that followed dealt with something purely Delconian, but I can say with complete confidence that the questionable acts that occurred in the tale were born out of the same drunken valor and haphazard machismo that accompanies almost every Delaware County male after a night of raucous revelry. Perhaps it starts like this… It's a Shore ThingTTAD would like to welcome our first, and probably only, female columnist. Queen Zip has been doing big things around Delco since her early years as a Crusader. I speak for Dr. Funk, Mr. Delco, Bunny and Chug when I say that Queen Zip is the quintessential Delco female. Down to pound beers at 11am at the Dead Dog and rips heat pieces with the best of them. A lot cooler than her brother. This is her story... Well it’s been about three days since the big weekends end and I can still smell the stale beer and salt air that intoxicates all of sea isle. I’ll tell you one thing, my body still aches and my eyes are still heavy but any time spent in sea isle is well worth it. I don’t know what it is about the whirlwind of utter chaos that fuels the minds of each Delco individual to literally defy all boundaries when they cross over that bridge, but hey I'm not complaining. You’re only young once so bring on the alcohol and socially frowned upon substances as we all put our conscience on a hiatus while we forget the term self-control and tackle the weekend with one thought in mind. This is the place where freedom reigns.
Honestly, it’s like there is a ticking time bomb in everyone’s head that starts early on Monday morning and slowly builds up its anticipation until 5 o’clock on Friday evening when it explodes into the hearts and souls of Delco’s finest. This is the time when reality kicks in and everyone really takes a second to acknowledge that the last four days, which were primarily spent complaining about a job with no significant purpose, can now take a back seat to a three day drinking binge where responsibilities and high strung bosses are non-existent. Hell yeah! So the packing begins. The men get out two cut-off t shirts (because we all know that it’s not the shore if the boys don’t have their all-too-familiar “suns out guns out” mentality), a pair of swimming trunks, and if the girls are lucky two pairs of clean boxers. The ladies pull together their finest sequence tops, victoria secret bikini, and a can of hair spray. Cars are packed tight with bodies, adrenaline, and road sodas while everyone posts their most awe-inspiring social networking update as they head down the AC Express Way --of coarse the updates continue throughout the entire dam weekend. #shotgunningbeers #imsodrunk #mygirlfriendsucks Boom. Sunday sneaks up on us all and it seems as if the weekend is over as quick as it began. Some may say it’s magical; others may reassure themselves that time just happens to work differently in sea isle. However we all really know it just happens to be a direct result of the fact that Friday and Saturday are consumed by the three enchanted indulgences: case purchasing, keg tapping, and bar hopping. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how lucky you are, this type of behavior allows one to be attentive and oriented for about 12 hours total in an approximate 40 hour time frame. This threesome, among others, is the pure catalyst of the essential madness that flourishes through the streets of sea isle on your average weekend. You can expect cell phones to be broken, beds to be a fought over commodity, nudity to be honorable, brain cells to be captivated, condoms to be recycled, and people to be depleted. Then the Sunday anxiety demons strike, exhausting our minds and sending endless stress signals into our heads, which are clearly dramatized by the chemical disparity still occurring in our bodies as a result of the last two days; yet by Thursday we are all itching to do it over again. Ironic? -Queen Zip Tuesday Evening ThoughtsGreetings once again, ladies and gentlemen. This is your friend and most humble narrator throwing a little ham and eggs at ya. Before I begin, I wanted to start off with an apology of sorts. I haven’t tossed anything your way in over 2 weeks, and that type of decline in material is, quite frankly, unfounded and completely unacceptable. I’m not going to hide behind a busy schedule or pressing matters that have presented themselves over the most recent past because that is simply untrue. It is not even a case of writer’s block. In fact, I have thoughts firing on all cylinders at all times of the day revolving solely around stupid, horseshit nonsense that would generally not be accepted in any other type of open house forum but this website. So, I’m sorry for the delay. I’ll try not to let this happen again, and, in saying that, I’ll keep this piece away from anything controversial or complex. What I’d like to talk about is very simple: our favorite 4th of July traditions.
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