-I recently went back to one of the liquor stores where I used my fake ID since freshman year. The same guys were still working there and
they must have thought I was a grad student by now who just happened to live nearby. To their surprise, I had suddenly either reversed my aging process or sent them back
in time because I’m only 21 again and this time it looks even more real. Funny thing is, I gave my ID to one of the freshmen in my fraternity, so now they sell
alcohol to an 18 year old who’s 27. Someday a pledge is going to look exactly like the 65 year old in the picture.



-One of the most common causes of automobile accidents for students is trying to change CD’s while driving. The thing is, the Man Upstairs apparently already knows
about this problem and has decided to punish us even further for attempting it. This is why every time you search for a new CD with one hand, remove the previous one with
the other, all while trying to hold the CD case open in your lap while steering with your knees, you can be sure that your cell phone will ring, all the lights will be
green, and three people will slam on their brakes in front of you. Hey, at least you felt popular and lucky right before you rear-ended the guy. And that’s the
important thing: it wasn’t your fault.



-I’m trying to convince my parents that I need that laser eye surgery. Actually, I don’t even wear glasses, but I hear that if you have good vision, it can
make your eyesight better than 20/20. That way whenever I take exams I can survey ten other people’s answers around me and make a well-informed cheating decision. It
would be kind of like using a poll-the-audience lifeline on “Who Wants to be a Millionaire,” except the audience would be unaware they were being polled and I
would be kicked off the show immediately for asking.



-The worst part of finals week is when your fake-relationship semi-friends start listing not only the days but the TIMES they have tests. People you never hang out with,
occasionally contemplate saying hi to, and always regret interaction with think you should be interested in the fact that they will be occupied at 8:30 in the morning on
Wednesday. This semester it got so bad that one of my annoying acquaintance's with a light workload began telling me how hard he thought his finals would be next semester.
I’ll be unlucky if I even remember his FACE next semester.



-And now for the Failed Hookup Quote of the Month: One of my friends is just about to convince a girl to come over after a night of clubbing and she says “I
don’t want to hate myself in the morning.” Without hesitation he replies, “Don’t worry…we’ll probably sleep past noon.” I mean,
come on girls, there’s plenty of time to hate yourself later.



-I recently made a universal discovery that you are interested in: I know where the hottest person on every campus is located. Follow these directions closely to the pot
of gold. First, locate the administration building on your campus map. Yes, it has been years since you used this or perhaps never at all, but this is worth it I promise.
Comb through your memory to make sure there are no outstanding campus infractions that could throw you off course here. Now make your way to the administration building,
and turn your attention to the building directory. Locate the student loan office/accounts payable and get your game face ready. Sign in and glance around for the name of
a loan officer of the opposite sex. Ask the secretary to see him/her—don’t be scared by the secretary’s hideous face/demeanor. Prepare for the hottest
person on campus: the loan officer. This person is hired specifically for his/her stunning physical features to take your mind off of the outrageous debt you will shortly
be pretending to incur. These loan hotties are kept caged up deep within the university to preserve their physical attributes so you will never question the internal
financial affairs of your school. After a brief introduction, explain to the loan star that you love her for more than her physical features. In fact, just say
you’re after money and sex—the university is yours my friend. No thanks necessary, the pleasure has been all mine. No really, just a few weeks ago.

-If there was really a fire in a big building on campus, would you even think to use the emergency fire exit door? I think I’ve been
trained for so long never to come close to this door that it should be changed to the “TOUCH THIS AND DIE” door. Of course, if there really IS a fire,
you’ll die anyway, but that’s just a catch-22 we’re going to have to live with.



-I love it when I send a link to someone on IM and they say, “Oh, cool, I’ll check it out.” Twenty minutes of silence later I’m like, what did you
think, and they’ll say “Oh I didn’t go there yet.” What are you saving it for a fucking rainy day?! How hard is it to click on a damn link?! Once
you verbally commit to clickage there’s no turning back asshole!



-My roommate was concerned he had mono recently. He said he’d been feeling all the classic symptoms: constant fatigue, apathy, shortness of breath, etc. Turns out
there’s a special name they give this problem. It’s called BEING FUCKING LAZY AS HELL and it happens to EVERY SENIOR IN COLLEGE…join the crowd and take a
nap, you’re thinking too hard!



-I was addressing some graduation announcements by hand the other day, and I came to an important realization: I am incapable of writing legibly. Now of course, we all
have sloppy handwriting, but I’m talking about writing slowly and deliberately, yet still scribbling in Tourette’s Syndrome cursive. Thanks to Instant
Messenger, I can now type 2,000 words per minute with 95% accuracy and handwrite 2 words per minute with 95% destruction of the English language.

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