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(04/22/09 7:00am)

During February of my freshman year, my roommate Lane and I won four straight games of beer pong. For him, not a big deal. For me, it was like Dave McClure going 5-for-5 from the three-point line.

how to live the perfect... LDOC

(04/22/09 7:00am)

9:00 A.M. Good morning sunshine Sleeping past 10 a.m. on LDOC is not an option. If you do, you will wake up, find your friends already hammered and be the lonely sober guy/girl. That's a terrifying reality. In case you're not a morning person (i.e. you hit the snooze button six-plus times), the perfect solution is a stack of pancakes, a side of bacon and a solo cup of Andre. Not only will this LDOC-worthy breakfast give you a reason to get out of bed, it will give you a solid base for the day's festivities.

The Twitter

(04/02/09 7:00am)

As online editor for The Chronicle, I've been experimenting with different uses of Twitter to suit The Chronicle's journalistic purposes. So far, no success. Frankly, I believe Twitter will be a passing fad in the same vein as go-go boots, Beanie Babies (currently three for $5 at Rite-Aid) and global warming. That being said, during my search for Twitter journalism, I've discovered a few alternative uses for communicating in under 140 characters:

What's the bottom line with the new A.D.?

(07/08/08 4:00am)

Let's just say Kevin White has a mind for finance in college athletics. During his eight-year turn as the athletic director at Notre Dame, White embarked on a $100-million fundraising campaign. And in the same role at Arizona State, he bolstered the athletics department's revenue to $26 million. "I'm somebody that has a pretty significant interest in business and particularly, the business of sport," White says.

The taste of home

(10/25/07 4:00am)

Two five-gallon glass tanks rest in a closet under a hanging pair of black business suits and a collection of brightly colored Hawaiian shirts. Six-packs are stacked haphazardly around the closet door, dirty clothes are strewn over the floor and a road bike hangs on the opposite wall. The concealed space tucked away in the third-floor apartment on Watts Street would have been ideal for hiding alcohol during the Roaring 20s-a time when jazz music mingled with much-despised laws against manufacturing or distributing beer. But unless you live on East Campus, prohibition went out of fashion in the 1930s. And beer brew chefs Ben Haynes and Steve Worrell are certainly not running an Al Capone operation out of their two-bedroom apartment.