Issue #3 – “College Life After Eight Weeks” – October 1997

-How’s the electricity situation in your dorm room? My room breaks every fire hazard law in the state of Pennsylvania. I have like a surge protector plugged into a surge protector connected by three extension cords. And behind my desk, oh man, that’s where stray wires go to die. If I ever spill a glass of water back there the whole damn place will blow up.

-Penn is fucking awesome – we just got a steam room in my hallway. Yeah, remember in the last issue when I said that our bathroom water has only two temperatures, off and thermonuclear hot? Well, now the shower is broken. It’s been running continuously for seven fucking days! The shit’s so hot it turned the place into a fucking steam room. We all go in there and sit around in towels talking about the stock market. It’s great.

-Let me just be honest. I have no idea what an imperfect monopoly is, I can’t conjugate a Spanish verb, and I can barely spell calculus, let alone derive anything. But I can buy a keg, tap a keg, fix a keg, pump a keg, and do a kegstand, all with my eyes closed. College, ya gotta love it!

-I have discovered the best spectator sport: watching kids fall asleep in class. Everyone’s done it, it’s fucking hilarious! You know, first their eyes start to close, then their head falls down, then back up again, then down again, then up again. I love it, pretty soon everyone in the class is fixated on this poor fucker who can’t keep his eyes open. Of course, it’s always funny until it’s you. Then it’s like, why didn’t you assholes wake me up!?

-So it was Parent’s Day the other day, you know when all your relatives come up to nag you for a weekend. They might as well call the day before Hide-the-Beer Day, because all you do is empty the fridge, clean out all the bottles, and take down all the pictures of you drunk off your ass from the wall.

-Speaking of parents, I almost got my ass kicked when they visited. If you read the first issue of Ruminations, you know that I have no idea at all how to do laundry. I asked my dad if I could get the laundry service and he said something like, “Be a man and wash your own underwear!” That alone confused the fuck out of me. Anyway, I went behind their back and ordered the laundry service. Little did I know that when my mom came to visit I would have to take a quiz on the laundry room: “How much bleach do you use? Do you need more quarters? Do you have enough static guard?” I had no idea, I just bullshitted with her for like an hour. It’s those situations that make me wish I was Homer Simpson. Whenever he faces a crisis, he could just scream and jump out the window. Is this where my Ivy League education has gotten me – wishing I was a cartoon character? That’s pretty sad.

-I’m sure by now most of you have gone back home for at least a weekend. That’s an experience. You go home with that attitude like, my parents better not try to control me! I’ll do whatever the fuck I want! Three hours later I was taking out the garbage and washing the dishes. I guess when I said my parents couldn’t control me, I didn’t realize that what they did control was the car, the house, the money…

-How comfortable was your bed at home? I don’t remember it being this comfortable! It felt like I was sleeping in a cloud with the Care Bears and Snuggles. And I don’t even have one of those egg crate things underneath my mattress!

-When I was home, I also visited my old high school. Now there’s a depressing experience. All the teachers look the same and they’re all doing exactly the same shit. And the new senior class sucks dick. It’s like we graduated but the rest of the school got left back. Well, at least the freshman girls looked pretty nice. Oh man, did I just say that? Fuck me!

HOME