A Georgetown freshman moves into Village C, and discovers a heavy closet and a dim bathroom light. He does what anyone would do: make a Youtube video complaining about it, without any of that pesky “perspective” that has hindered past Youtubers:

Dare we hope for a Georgetown video blog star? There’s surely more to come from this fellow, who’s previously created Tila Tequila reviews. New videos will be nasty, too, because as his Youtube account says: “I didn’t get this thin and pretty being nice.”

That’s what I’ve decided after checking out And Now, Anacostia’s images of planned Anacostia development. Vacants are becoming office buildings, barbed wire fences are coming down, and Anacostia is going to look better and be safer.

To see what’s coming up, look at the difference between this picture of Martin Luther King Avenue:

and the proposed changes:

Add that to the proposed streetcars, and Anacostia is going to get downright walkable. As I discovered in the Anacostia story to end all Anacostia stories, currently trying to get somewhere in Anacostia ends in sweat-stained shirts and sadness.

Remember when Facebook was an e-Skull & Bones for people who went to East Coast schools and knew one another from dear old Camp Chikiwawa? You could post whatever grotesque initiation pictures you wanted, but then Mark Zuckerburg let in the riffraff, and everything went to hell. Now anyone–employers and snoopy journalists, worst of all–can see your awesome keg stands and projectile vomiting.

In today’s L.A. Times, Ivygate editors Maureen O’Connor and Jacob Savage make the rather astute observation that like an elephant or Ray Danieli, Facebook never forgets:

For every tip we follow up, there are half a dozen we ignore. But we don’t delete them, and neither do our peers. Should the subject ever become famous, you can bet there’s incriminating evidence on a hard drive or server just waiting to explode into the blogosphere.

There are potentially hundreds of images (plenty of them unflattering) of every person between the ages of 18 and 30 floating around the Internet — including your future congressman, city councilman or president.

Forewarned is forearmed.

An athletic “international disaster relief specialist” and a younger Eastern European blonde — what’s not to like? Everything.

This week’s Date Lab is screwed from the start, with both daters sounding a little nuts in their questionnaires. I’m willing to forgive her excessive earnestness (”He must have sparks in his eyes. He must have a dream!”) because she’s an immigrant from Belarus who probably learned English from Ghost. He has no such excuse for an inappropriate use of sneer quotes (”creative type,” “itchy feet”).

The dinner goes fine, with conversation about green card lotteries and African coffee. In a perfect 180 turn from last week, he takes note of the fact that she finishes her meal “really slowly” — apparently eating speed is something guys notice on a first date. He can tell that she’s more into it than he is (”I wouldn’t be surprised if she contacted me”), and it shows in their ratings: he gives the date a 3, she rates it a 4 and is ballsy enough to email him for a second date, but her missive goes unreturned.

Rating: 2. The dude is undeservedly smug, and it’s no fun to read, especially because the girl is so genuine.

Chances of Success: 1. He didn’t answer her email. Unless she wants to take things extralegal (a move I’d approve of, if only for the entertainment), this is the end.