The Dorm Room Doldrums

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Drinking, drugs, sexual exorbitance, over-eating, venereal disease, and close encounters with the long flabby arm of campus law. Yes, college does indeed have many promising attributes to it from a new inductee's standpoint.
Why, I too was smitten with the concept of drinking myself into oblivion and waking up in a hospital bed, a goal only few of my friends have attained. So when applying to
colleges, I felt I wanted to find a school in which I could stretch my proverbial legs as a party-going, fun-loving, plain-looking, and mildly funny individual.

And I knew that Oneonta State would be the perfect place to do so.

For those unfamiliar with my choice of school, the campus is densely populated with burnouts, scraped from the dregs of high schools all around New
York. Their solid 2.6 grade point averages and heads full of a mix of bad ideas and a quarter pint of pure liquid LSD have caused the school to garner the name
“Stoneonta,” a name I'm sure some faceless diaper stain came up with when he thought he was indestructible.

I knew in my mind that if I wanted to get any kind of party-going experience from College itself, I had to choose this school, second only in New
York to UA Albany in partying (which I was also accepted to, but we'll get to why that would've been a better decision in a bit). I gleefully submitted my application to SUNY
Oneonta in winter of my senior year. My acceptance was a joyous occasion, and I moved into my dorm feeling the weight of two overbearing parents and a town full of white
supremacist wiggers lifted from my flabby shoulders.

At first it started well. I attended a fair share of parties, contended in beer pong with the finest the school had to offer. Then suddenly, in the midst of the third week of
school, the party train ground itself to an unwanted halt. Reality booted me in the sack, and I was left friendless and sober in a 10 by 10 stinkbox on Friday night. This,
unfortunately, turned into a pattern, and I now find myself living like that guy that ran a casino and became so frightened of germs that he moved to some distant island and
grew 14-inch fingernails... what was his name?

Anyway, I write this in the hopes that I can warn a few future college students that will embark on their freshman year come next September to not
make the same mistake I did. Unfortunately, I'm not even sure what that mistake was. But I do know that I've seen the Goonies 14 times in the past 3 weeks. And that's not a good
thing. I also order enough Dominos to build forts from the empty boxes, my roommate's big into the pot game and I still remain sober, and I've grown a searing hatred for the
Dave Matthews Band, because I was unaware that in college it's statistically impossible for someone in your dorm's hallway to not listen to that prick drink too much and then
belt out whiney diatribes about how he drinks too much.

In case you haven't guessed, I myself am a virgin. In middle school I viewed high school as the turning point for sexual maturity. I strutted in
there with newfound pubic hair and a deeper voice, only to find that I was blaringly unattractive and unwanted by the opposite sex. So, instead, I replaced that void with video
games, citing that college is the definite turning point to separate the men from the boys. As opposed to the Catholic Church, where the only thing that can separate the men
from the boys, is a crowbar.

But it's not looking good folks. I'm pretty sure it's physically impossible to lose your virginity without leaving the dorm or removing your
clothes. Some freaks will tell you different but that's my fucking opinion and I'm sticking to it. So, if I'm to deem out any valuable advice to anyone here, it's this: if you
want to be successful and popular in college, don't be like me. I attended one of the biggest party schools in New York, and I'm walking away with lower self esteem and a
newfound respect for the show Mythbusters.

Until next time folks, let my words be your compass to success. And remember, no matter how bad life gets, if your girl/boyfriend dumps you, if your best friend is hit by a fucking bus, if
God himself decides to take a steamy, loosely-assembled shit all over your life, remember... someone out there is worse off than you are. And that someone, is me.

Good day everybody. Keep on rockin'.

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