>>> Points in Case
By staff writer Court Sullivan
Issue #1 – October 1999

-You know those little things that you kinda wonder about in the back of your head, but are too “insignificant” to waste any time thinking about? Well, don’t start now, I plan on wasting plenty of MY time thinking for you! Of course, I don’t promise to figure ALL this shit out, but I will expose some questions you might have thought you were the only one to wonder about. So, what the hell really IS going on around us? I have no idea, but this college life is damn funny sometimes. Anyway, sit back and just read this for what it’s worth: the paper I don’t even write it on…although ideally it will offer you a humorous look at the oddities of college, and the mystifying intricacies of life.

-Speaking of worthless paper, how many times has your printer spit out one of those “mystery” sheets at the end of the document you’re printing? The ones that have no purpose, but have like one line of computer language on the top or a stray mark somewhere on the page. I’m always torn between putting it back in the feed tray or throwing it away for fear the next thing I print out will be a research paper. So usually the paper just gets torn and thrown away. What a recycler’s nightmare.

-Recycling is such a tedious matter. I always wondered who sorts out the stuff that’s not meant to be recycled from those millions of recycling, trash-can looking containers. How many times have you thrown some trash in one of those things and then realized it says in huge letters, “GLASS ONLY”?! I’m always like, fuck it, looks like a trash can to me!

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-I went to the movies the other day and realized the arm-rest territoriality issue again. It’s always the person who claims the arm-rest first that usually ends up getting to use it. The two parties proceed to struggle over it using only the elbows because anything else is somehow “illegal” in arm-rest fighting. The established owner is almost always victorious, unless it’s a girl, cause it seems to be assumed that girls don’t need as much space. Funny how things change when you’re sitting next to a stranger in a packed theater on opening night for some movie. The arm-rest immediately turns into some kind of barrier like the Berlin Wall. Both parties stay inside their chair-space while some invisible guard patrols the top of the arm-rest.

-I went to the bathroom the other day in an old library. Isn’t funny how some places are more conducive to taking shits than others? But anyway, this place was the weirdest I’ve seen: the stalls all had double doors like you were entering a saloon or something. That wasn’t so bad, but the crack between the doors was at least an inch wide!–and it’s not like it was on the SIDE of the stall. There’s something about having my shitting space invaded right down the middle that ruins all privacy. Luckily it was just a theology library. Basically they’re useful to about three people per hour, including the front desk worker who acts surprised to see someone come in the door—more less someone without an overgrown beard, a little hat pinned to their hair, or a turbine.

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-Have you noticed how getting drunk is described in more abstract terms in college? In high school I actually remember being able to tell people at school the next day roughly how many shots or beers I had. That way everyone could compare tolerance capabilities. Now it’s like, “man, I got sooo fucked up last night” or “I have never been that wasted in my life!” I guess that’s cause in college, you drink so much you never remember how much you actually had……and if you do remember how many shots you had, you don’t wanna say cause then you look like you didn’t drink enough to not remember! Ahhhh…behold the complexities of alcohol….for they are the essence of college.