By staff writer E.E. Southerby
Volume 50 – September 21, 2003
Now Playing: “Hey Baby” by DJ Otzi
This issue marks the fiftieth fun-tastic episode of Text-Heavy. It's an anniversary of sorts, which is why you will soon realize that this issue is completely and utterly devoid of any kind of celebratory content. It's really just an ordinary column. I don't even know why I brought this up, when I think about it. I must be hopped up on the goofballs, to the max. Here's what happened:
-I know I'm not the only guy who smells his pants before going out to a bar, but I still think it's pretty weird. I mean, I've never actually gotten into a situation where a girl would be like “well, I really like you, but I just smelled your pants and I think I'm gonna go dance with that big guy over there.” And if you somehow DID get into that position, I would think your odor would be the smallest of your issues. At that point, you should probably just buy new pants.
-This brings me to my next point, which is: Are clothes getting ridiculously expensive? I went to the Gap to buy a belt. They're foreclosing my mortgage on Tuesday.
-Have you noticed how every piece of electronic equipment you buy breaks down all the time? That's how Best Buy stays in business. They sell a poor college student a CD player, and then they sell that same student a new CD player a month later when the thing stops working. It's true of every piece of electronics save one: Nintendo Controllers. Think about it. You'll be on like the ninth level of Mario and then your guy gets killed and you scream and slam the controller against the wall and then you jump on it a couple of times and the damn thing's fine. If you want to make something unbreakable, you give it to Nintendo.
-Quote of the Moment: Written, inexplicably, on a friend's whiteboard: “Bread is the car that butter rides. – Heather (Fatty)” That's so deep your head would probably explode if you tried to read anything into it. So don't even bother.
-Whenever I go to a bar with a girl (which, as you've probably intuited, happens often), they always try to embarrass me by making up stupid names for drinks that don't even exist and then having me go over to the bartender and try to order them. You'd think I'd catch on, but I'm a goddamn idiot. I'll walk over to the bartender and say something like: “Could I have some ‘Silk Panties'?” And the bartender will just give me this stone-faced glare that makes me feel like I'm about eleven inches tall and then say something like “The closest I have is a ‘Nosebleed'.” He wasn't kidding.
-Here in college, it's cold and flu season, defined as “The time of year when students are in school.” Seriously, disease has spread like a brushfire and there's nowhere to run. All the healthy college students I used to know have transformed into these unrecognizeable blobs of walking sickness, like Cher or Optimus Prime.
-College Translations: 1) “Wanna Split Cab Fare?” actually means “Can I mooch a ride with you under the false pretense that I'll pay back my share at a later time, which of course I never will? Thanks, buddy!” 2) “Did you go to class today?” actually means “I slept through class even though it was at 2:30pm and I need to borrow your notes, so could you make some photocopies for me? Thanks, buddy!” 3) “Have you eaten dinner yet?” actually means “I hope you're hungry because I am and I need you to cook for me. Thanks, buddy! I'll pay you back later, along with the cab fare.”
-There are no parties. I know that sounds like a generalizztion, but I think it's true. It's because people don't actually like BEING at parties. They like GOING to parties. Everyone loves getting all dressed up, pre-drinking at home, and then going around looking for a party. On the off-chance that you actually find a party in progress, it will get broken up by the cops within five minutes of your arrival. I bet this wouldn't happen if parties were made by Nintendo.
-Here on campus, weekends at midnight mean quiet hours are in effect. That means that any and all parties get broken up at that time and everyone gets kicked out of whatever building they were in. The net result of this is two thousand drunk college kids drinking beer and smoking outside, yelling and starting fights until four in the morning. Hooray for quiet hours! The system works.
-I'm getting too old (21) to go around the first year dorms trying to hook up with a drunk eighteen year old girl. It's getting pretty creepy. Next year it will be really creepy. Still, I keep hearing these stories of first year girls hooking up with older guys, and I always wonder what I'm doing wrong. I mean, besides good looks, money, a car, a job and a sense of sophistication, what do these older guys have that I don't?