Hey, Aroy Thai, why haven’t you opened yet? WE WANT THAI FOOD

Aroy Thai was set to be the newest addition to the city’s growing number of dining options.

The College Avenue restaurant opened at least two weeks ago, but all signs — apart from the one fixed to the storefront — indicate it did not stay that way.

The display cases next to the register are filled with soda; the hours are taped to the door and mock-ups of dishes are on display in the window. Everything seems ready, but its doors have remained locked and calls to the establishment have gone unanswered.

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Barking Dog expected crowd of 500 for Dom Mazzetti event, only 50 showed up

Dom Mazzetti is accomplished for a college super senior. He has a passion for girls, partying and working out, an accent reminiscent of Jersey Shore, and more than 25 million views total on YouTube and more than 76,000 likes on Facebook.

In celebration of Cinco Dom Mayo, I mean de Mayo, The Barking Dog brought this Internet phenom to Route 1.

Because the bar’s managers expected 500 people to crowd the Barking Dog on Saturday, they hired three extra security hands for the night — only 50 people showed up.

“It was embarrassingly small,” said senior economics major Bret Greer. “You would think for Cinco de Mayo, more people would be out.”

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Campus Complainer: SGA candidates really need a moon bounce

Just a thought, guys.

Ah, election season. One of my favorite times of year. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and mud is being slung through the air. We’re not talking the presidental election, people, it’s time for Student Government Association elections.

Why do I love them? Well (this is going to floor you), I actually hate them. I can’t stand the endless bombardment from candidates during the election cycle. The fliers, the emails, pitches during class — all of it.

I don’t care about your inconsequential platform you’re running on. I’d guess that neither does 70 percent of the student population. So, please stop shoving your platform down my throat. In fact, I’d rather you put an actual wooden platform through a woodchipper and sprinkle the wood chips on my tuna sandwiches (and I love my tuna sandwiches) than have to listen to a candidate drone on about how they’re going to increase the number of Inuits at our school.

Diversity as a platform? Really? It’s important in the grand scheme of things, but if you’re trying to get students to vote, that’s a surefire way to put them to sleep and to spread the apathy. You want to pull people out to vote and get your point across? Two words: moon bounce.

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The truth about YOLO

“You only live once, that’s the motto, n—- — YOLO.” That line from the popular rap song “The Motto” by Drake is the motto of this generation. It also happens to be the best excuse to do all the things common sense tells you not to do. All you have to do is call out “YOLO” right before you do it, and everything will be OK. We know this because Drake signed a contract reassuring your well-being and taking all financial responsibility for your hospital bills.

If you’re going to do something stupid for the sake of YOLO, you need to post it on a social networking site. Otherwise, it’s just seen as you being stupid. You need to yell out “YOLO” so other people can hear it, or it doesn’t count. Try doing something dangerous and call out “YOLO” when no one else is around. It just won’t feel the same. It’s like the age-old question, “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” If you yell “YOLO” and jump from a tree in the forest with no one around to hear it, your doctor will know by the x-rays that you made a sound — the sound of your leg snapping in half, not “YOLO.”

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Campus Complainer: Art Attack and meter maids

For this week’s installment of Campus Complainer, I had some wrath reserved for the whiners polluting the Art Attack Facebook event. Now that I’ve got bigger fish to fry, I’ll keep it brief. Quit your bellyaching over B.oB. You don’t like him? I’ve got a simple solution for you: Get hammered before. Drink a bunch of beers and BOOM! Then you won’t care who’s on stage. You’d probably dance to Dr. Z singing Nickelback all night anyways. Problem solved.

On to the real issue at hand: the city of College Park. Most of the time, I’m a big fan of College Park, but yesterday my tides turned.

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Campus Complainer: There are worse things than secondhand smoke

I was strolling along McKeldin Mall the other day between classes and plopped down in front of the library to talk on the phone. Outside of McKeldin is a popular spot to stop for a cigarette. Students and professors alike congregate just outside of its doors to literally blow off smoke before diving into the books.

As I sat, I noticed a common occurrence: Multiple passersby doing the loud, over exaggerated fake cough. It happened once and I paid no mind. Twice and my ears perked up. When it didn’t stop, I was shocked.

 

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Campus complainer: Calm down, guys. They’re just pretzels

 

When I was a tyke, often times my weekdays were spent at the mall with my mom, waddling around behind her as she browsed the shops  — long enough to be completely bored, but not so long that she’d miss Oprah at 4 p.m.

The one thing that could always keep me smiling and satisfied on one of our excursions (Outside of a new Street Shark action figure) was a cinnamon pretzel from Auntie Anne’s. Oh, they were glorious. All that greasy and cinnamon-y goodness was a delicious distraction from the horrors of extended stays inside department stores. It was my own little escape.

As the years progressed and my mind developed, Auntie Anne’s and I grew apart. Partially because I was no longer dragged to the mall against my will and also because, well, they’re just pretzels.

I’ll say it again: They’re just pretzels.

And because they’re just pretzels, I was shocked at the crushing hype I heard in the time leading up to Auntie Anne’s grand opening in Stamp Student Union. The hype hasn’t diminished, either. There’s always a line and people can’t stop raving about these things.

According to a Jan. 31 article in The Diamondback, the shop was averaging 600 pretzels a day just 11 days after it opened. 600 pretzels a day? Students are shelling out more than $3 for a bit of dough? A sprinkling of cinnamon? That’s insane.

While I may not be a man of refined tastes, my taste buds have grown since my days as a youngster at the mall. A pretzel is a fine snack every once and a while and hard pretzels compliment a sandwich well. But a pretzel as a whole meal? You’ve got to be kidding, especially when Stamp is packed with actual food.

The kind of people that roll up to Stamp to grab lunch and consistently end up with a raisin pretzel probably have the same diet as a 7-year-old. These people are the kind of folk who you could sit down in front of a freshly made plate of chicken pomodoro, piping hot and homemade, and they would push it away. Why? Because they want buttered noodles. Offer them steak and mashed potatoes? Forget about it; they want chicken tenders.

A group of simpletons is what we’re dealing with here.

These simpletons will probably get defensively about there beloved pretzels. They’ll probably whine and ask, “Ooohh, but they have way more than just pretzels! Have you ever tried a pretzel dog? That’s not just a pretzel!”

Yes, it’s not just a pretzel. You got me there. It’s not just a pretzel, rather, it’s a combination of two mediocre foods not deserving of any hype or huge business that it’s received. It’s also something a 7-year-old would gladly have instead of sushi.

So, go on, pretzel lovers. Have your pretzels. Eat them all day, everyday, because you’ll soon tire of them and realize they are in fact just pretzels. When that happens, meet me down at Subway.

— Taylor Schwink is a senior journalism major and student blogger for The Diamondback