By staff writer E.E. Southerby
Volume 23 – March 16, 2003
Welcome to the new Text-Heavy! What's new? I've turned my long-winded rants into shorter, more easily digestible sound bites. Long live the short attention span of a generation of internet users plagued by ADD! If you have any comments about this new format, please send me an email and I'll take it into careful consideration before publicly belittling you. Here's what happened:
-The cleaning ladies in our dorms are always complaining about us kids making a mess. I think it's really funny hearing a janitor whine about that sort of thing. If we didn't make any messes they'd be out of work. It's like a doctor complaining about all those “whiny sick people”.
-Did you know that Girls Gone Wild has a new host? Snoop Dogg. Only GGW would hire a host that nobody can understand. The only time I understand Snoop is when he ends his sentences with his name, as in “shnizzle my nizzle y'all cummon n' girls gone wild n' frontin' da hizouse yeah… Snoop Dogg”. I think I'm going to start ending my jokes that way…E.E. Southerby
-I went to get my laundry out of the dryer, and found a giant bra and tiny thong mixed in with my clothes. Which was weird, since I was absolutely certain that my bra and underwear were never even dirty.
-I miss taking baths. I only have showers here, because the baths are, well, quite frankly, suspicious. Also: Why do you ‘have' a shower but ‘take' a bath? That's a thought that's gonna fester.
-Quote of the Moment: At a bar, one of the worst pick-up lines I've ever overheard, “Are you pregnant? ‘Cause you, my dear, are phat.” It's made even worse by the slow realization that the girl could obviously not tell that he was spelling ‘fat' differently, since the guy was speaking and not writing. That's like a pick-up line from hell.
-I don't want to sound sexist, but I just can't imagine myself going out with a girl who has a car. It's because I don't have a car out here, so she would have to drive everywhere. The whole balance of power would be skewed. It doesn't really matter, though, since the only girls around here who even give me the time of day would much prefer to fly around on their brooms all day and catch flies for dinner.
-We have approximately 500 empty beer bottles and cans that are just waiting to be taken back for a refund to fuel our raging alcoholism, but we never actually go return them. One of the cleaning ladies told us if we don't get all the empties out of the hallway by the end of the day, she was going to throw them out. Great, now we look even more like hobos. (“Stay away from my cans, lady!”)
-Now Playing: “The Jackal” by Ronny Jordan. I called my mom at home right when the song came on the radio for her, and she acted like I just killed her first-born. The worst part is, I'm the first-born.
-Auditions are meant to be fun, and not to put pressure on the student as he pirhouettes and performs dramatic monologues in front of an angry-looking board of directors. Of course, throughout the audition, it was a big comfort that the fact that my entire future as a theatre student at University was not brought up. Neither was the fact that I had gone out clubbing the night before, and as a result my eyes were bloodshot and my centre of balance questionable, at best.
-And, finally, the angry-looking board of directors gave me some ‘constructive' criticism about my monologues and lack of coordination. They told me I should emote more, and that I should be ‘sweeter', whatever that means. Please, I'm plenty sweet. If I was any sweeter I'd give them all diabetes…E.E. Southerby.