Valentine's Day is Just Around the corner...

Ahh, Valentine's Day. A commercialized excuse to get laid with two simple words : Be Mine. Generations of our forefathers have practically pried women's legs open for us, and yet somehow, despite the user-friendliness of the holiday, I still loathe this one day even more than "check out that itchy rash you've been meaning to get looked at day." Especially if you lack that special someone in your life, V-Day stands for Very-uncomfortable-make-me-painfully-aware-of-how-socially-akward-I-am-Day. Given that this year will be my first to actually be attached in a long time, I've gleaned quite a wealth of knowledge of how to survive this horrendous relic of the romantic period.

Ensure everyone who has access to a computer knows that you're single. This way, there is an off chance that some busty cheerleader will pity you and rush over to give you pleasure that is the stuff of craiglist legends. To do this, post the following away message: "Happy Singles Awareness Day!!!!!!" By doing this, you not only come off as supportive of your love-bludgeoned friends, but also hint at your mild depression and acute self-esteem problem enough to bring those poor saps back down from their chocolate and polyester stuffing high.

Treat yourself to a nice dinner. You don't need to worry about putting on weight- it's not like you're attracting anyone anyway! Just try to keep the filet down after your fifth of Jack that you've been drinking since you woke up this morning.

Ensure that your porn bookmarks are up to date and all links are still live. 'Nuff said.

Be your own valentine! Noone knows you quite like yourself, and who knows, you could even have a delightful relapse of that multiple personality disorder that you suffered from a while back. Did I say suffered? I meant enjoyed every minute!

When everyone asks you if you have a valentine, create some sad backstory about how you did but in a tragic candy-heart accident, they were forced to flee the country amidst allegations of mishandling the press to make the hearts read "Me Ruv You Rong Time" in the batches bound for the California Bay Area. Alternatively, begin weeping and muttering unintelligibly until the person backs away.

Ignore that it's happening. At worst, it will make you seem blissfully ignorant. At best, it'll make you seem effusive and resilient. Either way, you don't come out that bad. Think Rose on the Golden Girls versus Fran Fine on The Nanny...ok, now I realize why I'm alone on Valentine's Day. I'm making comparisons to estrogen-charged ancient sitcoms.


Anyways, cheer up! This is only one day out of the 364 other days of loneliness - which means 364 other opportunities to find your valentine for next year! Sure, asking someone to "Be Yours" in the middle of June is a little unorthodox, but she might be flattered by your initiative. Just make sure you get her committment in writing, lest you repeat the experience that you've spent all day combatting in 2007. Happy humping!

Inagural Reflections

So, This is the first post that I'm making on here. It's an article I wrote while procrastinating from finals. Enjoy!

Is that Rabies, or are you just excited for finals?

Around finals time, a hidden breed emerges from the woods of academia, rabid and hungry for flesh. Beware the beast- the overachiever. Every campus has them, the adderalled-out, eyes redder than the campus pothead, haven’t slept in fifteen days but I’m still going to ace this damn final beast that, like werewolves, only seem to transform when the full moon is above. They’re catty, cutthroat, and conniving, not to mention easy to piss off and possibly manic depressive. You can spot them by the sixteen opened packets of Sweet ‘n’ Low strewn alongside their 72 ounce cup of quadruple expresso, or in some rarer breeds, alongside another fine white powder that has notoriety for its stimulant tendencies. Regardless of their identifying behaviors, these beasts are dangerous enough to rip off at least one limb, let alone on test day when they are liable to do anything. But how are we, normal drunken college students, supposed to wrangle such a breed? Here are some subtle and some not-so-subtle ways of taming this beast…

-Water down their coffee. If their nectar of life becomes less potent, so does their aggression. For you math majors out there, there’s an equation for this: N + E² + H₂O = (P)^-1 where N equals Neuroses, E equals shots of espresso, and H20…well if you don’t know what H20 is, perhaps you should reconsider your place in higher education. P in the equation equals productivity, which is directly correlated to their aggression.

-Blindfold them, but only for a minute. Their lack of object permanence will make them think that their hard work has completely disappeared, leading them to a freak-out, break-down, and cracking up. It’s quite funny to watch, and it makes them much calmer. Don’t worry, the shaking is a side effect of the coffee, not the breakdown.

-Cage them. All you need for this little task is about a yard of Chicken wire, some duct tape, and a big, red letter A. While the beast is in their habitat (the library carrel), quickly cover the exit side with the chicken wire. Duct tape the sides to make escape futile. Tape the Red A on the outside of the chicken wire, so it taunts the beast from just outside their enclosure. Charge $3 for a look at the “9^th wonder of the world.” Eventually, let them out to prevent shedding due to stress.

If these three steps fail to neutralize the fact-crazy cretin, run for cover. There’s no telling what they’ll do. And be careful not to bump into the couple screwing three carrels over.

-Smitty