Best of UCSB 2010: Polls Closed

The polls for this year’s Best of UCSB have closed. Look for the Daily Nexus‘ “Best Of” issue on February 16th!

Thank you to everyone who voted! Look for the Daily Nexus‘ “Best Of” issue on February 16th!

Vote for the Best of UCSB 2010

It’s that time of year again! On Feb. 16th, the Daily Nexus will have its annual “BEST OF” issue.

We need YOU to VOTE for what you think is the BEST of the BEST in the following categories. Click below and fill out the poll and see if YOUR picks win, and enter your U-Mail address at the end of the poll for a chance to win prizes! And hurry — polls close Feb. 3rd! Thank you!

Click here to fill out the survey.

“You’re Gonna Love My Nuts”

There’s only one thing on Earth better than the Slap Chop. And that’s the Slap Chop Rap.
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Sushi You Can Sleep With

In the wake of last week’s blog, I spent the week mulling over the sinking feeling that something is not quite right in our world—that maybe there’s something missing. I think everyone gets this feeling from time to time: Most of the time the answer is common sense or good taste. For me—at least this time—neither satisfied.

So between alternating gulps of antidepressants and tears, I sought desperately to answer the question of what’s missing in my life. And then it hit me.

In what kind of unjust world do I have to separate my sushi and my sleeping?

And then the good Lord Jesus Christ bestowed upon me a marvelous gift—something far better than inheriting the Earth (which I’ve heard isn’t that great anyway).

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The Internet is Super

The quantity of really strange people in our world is pretty staggering. For those who consider themselves at least semi-normal, these people are pretty hard to ignore. They’re everywhere: you can find them in the form of the roommate who sleeps on a university mattress without sheets. Or the 40-year-old next door neighbor who carries vodka-seltzer water to her car, only to return with a package of Depends. Or maybe the thug who gets beat up outside of your house and leaves torn-out dreadlocks behind—all over your car—as his only calling card.

Not that any of this comes from personal experience, of course.
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