The Great Society...

Facebook is such a marvellous invention. What started out as an opportunity for old friends to find each other and get reacquainted, has transformed into a global social network that has completely transformed the way people meet one another. Remember back to a time when you saw an attractive chick, you would ask your friends if they knew her; the next time you saw her you would talk to her, get her number and talk to her on the phone, maybe even chill or go to the party. Now, you see a cute chick and the first thing you do after you find out her name is run to the Facebook Gods. What has happened? Facebook is its own world and now you have an account of thousands of friends based on the pictures, applications, bumper stickers, and favorite quotes. I have news for you though: not everyone on your friend list is that. Different people use Facebook for different reasons. So, let me break down the different types of Facebookers...

The Polite. These Facebookers feel the need to accept every friend request, attend every event, and confirm every group invitation sent their way. This isn't because they are looking for Facebook fame and popularity, but because they do not want to turn down a new "friend". The Polite leave you posts on your birthday and tell you that your hair looks nice in your new profile picture. Sometimes they take the time to leave good remarks on every picture in the new album that you put up (even though half of those pictures consist of you posing in your bathroom fully dressed for no reason at all with the camera pointed towards the mirror). If your status implies that you are feeling ill or distressed they will send you some words of encouragement or a fucking teddy bear or band-aid. They may even send out a massive SuperPoke to wish everyone a Merry Christmas (personally, I like to throw Obamas at everyone on my friend list...repeatedly). However, The Polite do not usually get the same attention reciprocated. These polite Facebookers may visit the site 2 or 3 times a day.

The Oblivious. The Oblivious are those who seem like they are not even aware that they have a Facebook or do not know how to use it (anymore). This person probably started an account because they wanted to see what all the hype was about. My favorite excuse people use for signing up and remaining on Facebook: "networking." Whatever. Anyway, this category could include teachers, principals, parents and those from the "old school facebook days" who just do not care about learning how to use all of the ever evolving handy Facebook features. The Oblivious has no bumper stickers, rarely pops up in your mini feed, no trivia points, and keeps the same profile picture for years at a time. The Oblivious is not hip to any gossip that goes around Facebook because, like the ordinary student, he actually enjoys the company of people rather that viewing pictures of people. The Oblivious will also have pictures tagged by others but will never put up his own album. Anyway, it is obvious that The Oblivious Facebooker never checks their Facebook account...

The Party Promoter. These Facebookers are on a mission to add EVERY member in their network so that they can send you 74 messages a week reminding you about the party they have just set up. I swear to God if I receive another event invitation from the Jersey Boys. They have only given me more of reason to drop dirty diapers on Moorestown from my "I Hate New Jersey" blimp. The Party Promoter is constantly contacting you via mass message claiming that he is personally inviting you to the best party of the year even though he will invite the same people to the same party next week which happens to be at the EXACT same venue. Every party, by the way, is either a play off the title of some hot new hip hop single, some new definition of sexy, or pumped with a flyer with some video model that definitely WON'T be at the party. By the way, when I meet this "Golden Boy" who thought it was appropriate to make two profiles and marry himself, I'm getting on the phone and calling the real Golden Boy (Oscar De La Hoya) and paying him to jab you in the throat thrice. Also, The Party Promoter's name is constantly popping up in your mini feed as he adds more of your friends while trying to achieve utter social domination of your network. He's the one that gets you excited when you see that you have 7 new notifications only to find out that you have only been invited to the same event 6 times and he has invited you to a group where you can talk about it. Yes, it is the Party Promoter that makes your wall extra long because he wants to post ALL of the party information on it. He's the one that you hate, yet everyone on campus knows his name and face.

The Stalkers/Creepers. These Facebookers are among the worst. They will sit at their computers and look for attractive members of the opposite sex and then add them as friends (or worse: repeatedly poke them). The Stalkers are the ones that are actually brave enough to send you messages and photo comments saying that you are "sexy" or "cute". However, The Creepers will just visit your page everyday looking for changes on your profile. If your default picture or your status changes, expect a new Honesty Box Message. By the way, what is the purpose of an Honesty Box? That's the dumbest shit ever. All people ever do is either profess their undying love to their crushes...anonymously, or talk wild smack to their enemies...anonymously. Either way, anyone who writes in Honesty Boxes also checks the "PUSSY" box on applications that ask for ethnicity specification. But back to the Stalkers/Creepers. Most people have at least one person that lingers over their page and then stares eerily at you as you are seen walking around campus. Ladies, pay attention. Somebody is always watching you. ALWAYS. Shit, I have three chicks on my high alert list as we speak. These Facebookers log on to Facebook anytime they are able to access a computer with internet service. And you better believe that after they check their own profile, they are looking at any new picture you posted with you and your friend's breasts mashed against each other...

The Famished for Attention. This may also get broken down into 2 groups: the bored or the desperate. It may be boredom that drives these Facebookers or maybe they are actually starving for some attention. Their status changes literally 8 times a day so that they make sure you know exactly what is going on in their lives at every moment. They come out with a video every week that includes some form of dancing or some late night dorm room activities. The extreme ones even change their name every other day. I will let you in on a little secret: NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU OR YOUR PROBLEMS. Your real friends might. Try talking to them...in person. Personally, I don't want to be tagged to another note that talks about your current trials and tribulations. I got my own shit to deal with. I do not want to listen to yours. God dammit, do you know what a "note" is in real life? Remember when you were in 4th grade and the girls in class had a marble composition book and they passed it around a group of 7 or 8 chicks? Yes, THAT is a note. Little bitches write notes about the teacher's gap in her teeth or Brian's new haircut or Emily being gay because she throws the football with the boys at recess. Furthermore, notes are written (I repeat: written) on lined paper in bubble letters from a pen with pink or baby blue ink. A grown man or woman should not be typing "notes" in FUCKING college. Ones that do this out of boredom should just go play intramurals or something. It's the ones that do it for pity or attention that make me want to find them with Sock'em Boppers on my hands and give them a REAL problem to whine about. These Facebookers only need to log on once a day because they NEVER close their window. They just repeatedly hit the home button waiting for something new to pop up.

The Application Addict. You already know who this is. Everybody knows that they have at least one Facebook Friend that is constantly inviting them to partake in applications such as Zombies & Vampires, Mob Wars, Ninjas & Samurai, Superlatives, Jetman, What's Your Stripper Name?, Happy Hour, Let's Make a Baby, etc. Nobody wants to play your games you gypsy. I do not want to make ANY virtual babies with you. And stop sending me drinks. If you want to be a real friend, take me to the bar and buy me a real one you cheap fuck. The Application Addict is the one that you can't leave a comment for because you cannot decipher whether it gets left on the Advanced Wall, Super Wall, or regular Wall. They send you 26 bumper stickers every 3 hours because it reminded them of you. The Application Addict is by far the most annoying Facebooker and makes you evaluate why you even accepted their friendship in the first place. The Application Addict spends a butt-load of time on Facebook annoying you with every quiz and application there is...


The Crazy Girlfriend. Oh yes this is my personal favorite. The one that adds drama and humor into your life. The Crazy Girlfriend also exhibits traits of The Stalker/Creeper. She's the one that's "married" to someone one day and then switches to "it's complicated" the next. She leaves her boyfriend a wall post every day because in her sick mind, she's marking her territory. It's more than likely that she checks her boyfriend's page before she actually looks at hers. And there's a very good chance that if you walked into her room unexpectedly you would catch her 3 pages deep into reading a wall-to-wall conversation between her boyfriend and someone else. She may call it "investigating". I call it "why are you fucking retarded". This highly unstable woman gets upset over the smallest things. Her boyfriend may commonly hear things such as "Who the fuck is this bitch you just added as your friend" or "you ain't even that close to this bitch, why are you on her Top Friends list?" She makes it impossible for her boyfriend to even have a Facebook account. When she sees him in a picture with another female she goes on a rampage, sending out wild Honesty Box messages stating "stay away from my man", or "I'm gonna fuck you up slut". Having this woman in your life means that you no longer have any female friends and have to duck camera flashes at every party you attend. Your tagged photos link leads to nothing more than multiple photos of you blocking camera lenses. Tragic. The Crazy Bitch (I mean Girlfriend) visits Facebook as much as an ordinary student, however her attendance to the site sky-rockets when she is suspicious something is going on...

Well in conclusion, I guess you're wondering how I feel about myself being involved in the Facebook Society. Just to let you know, if you found me on Facebook or if I found you, chances are you will probably NEVER see my real face. That's not because I don't like you but I believe before the Facebook existed, friends ACTUALLY knew what their friends looked like. So those who really know me, know what I look like. So unless of course you happen to hear my name called for attendance in one of your classes or something, I remain a glitch in the matrix: the faceless facebooker. If you build up the confidence to approach me and call out my name as I exit the classroom, I will just look at you blankly or run away screaming "STRANGER DANGER." Why you ask? Usually as people we try to be polite to make a good first impression when we first meet someone new. Well not I, said the fly. The first impression of me was spoiled the moment you went to my page saw the little negro Mario rocking the Obama pin as my profile's default picture and started reading this blog. So now there is no need to try because you THINK you already know me. Ah, Facebook...way to go on murdering the first impression for everyone...

Dash's Guide to College Living (Section II)...

Ok...So I have already covered part of what it is required to be socially involved in the college environment. But let's try to remember the real reason why mom and pop are shipping you away to this institution of higher learning. Teaching yourself the physics of playing a flawless game of Quarters is hardly worth $30,000 a year in tuition. There's a necessary component to college that involves acquiring a degree of some sort. Despite my praise of the social aspects of collegiate life, I fully understand the necessity behind keeping a legitimate grade point average. If you don't make the grade, the parents take away the dorm where you get laid. Write that down. Now I'm going let you in on a little bit of information that could help you out with the book learnin' side of school. Believe it or not, getting a high GPA isn't all about perfect attendance and participating in every class you are enrolled. Sitting in the front of class and raising your hand for every question gets the same results in college as it did in high school: I steal your chocolate milk. You don't have to stay in your little cubicle of a dorm room on Friday nights completing papers to ensure your academic achievement. Instead, by knowing the following vital information, you will get through your college career with at least a quality 3.0.

#1. Math:Indians::Microsoft:Bill Gates. That's a little analogy for you, and my suggestion is to take heed. Indians OWN math. Indians have taken over the concept of math like Asians have taken over the art of popping and locking (sorry Omarion, but have you seen Kaba Modern or the Jabbawockies). Furthermore, they refuse to relinquish their supreme knowledge of numerals to anyone else like they invented the subject. Pure selfishness. Have you not noticed that 95% of upper level math classes are taught by Indian professors that can hardly speak English? Either that or they blatantly refuse to learn. It's a conspiracy. If you're lucky, you may get the pleasure of learning basic algebra from Mr. Smith; however, when it comes to learning Calculus with Professor Pallavi Chitturi, it's the end of the road for your mathematical education. The only way to actually pass this class would be to drop it before it's too late; take Introduction to Indian and then take calc again next semester GRANTED you get an A- in Intro to Indian. It's just not worth it and the cards are already stacked against you. While you struggle with balancing equations involving sines and cotangents, Nirav is sitting next to you dozing off because his father taught him all that shit during his summer vacation between 4th and 5th grade. When you were younger, you played with Legos and action figures. Nirav's teething ring, on the other hand, was a god damn calculator. Mathematics is passed down through their culture like a flask in the Fitzpatrick house. So trust me, if you really want to get a quality GPA, scratch any math related majors. You'll get tired of Kumar whispering to you, "chill fam, I got this" after all your incorrect answers.


#2. Pad Your Stats. Every college student has to follow a curriculum based on their major in which they have to take some core courses in order to graduate. The key to achieving good grades in these courses is picking the right classes. If you know you love to party during the week, you obviously don't want pick the earliest classes available. Make sure these classes fit into a schedule that is good for you. And when you are picking these classes, stick to things that you already know. You are not Aristotle. You do not need to learn everything that looks interesting to you. Chances are that 78% of the bullshit you learn in these classes will not be used at all after the semester is over. Which means that if you took Spanish I and II in high school, fuck it; start all over again at Spanish I in college. That's a guaranteed "A" and a 4.0 averaged into your stats. When it comes to selecting a course for your science requirement, Geology is the way to go. Yes, it's boring. But you get to go play with rocks 3 times a week and get yourself an A+. When looking for a class to fulfill your arts requirement, I recommend something culinary. It's a fine way to hone your ability to cook delicious meals. Face it, the women love a man who can make something more than Ramen Noodles or Easy-Mac. Do yourself the service of taking a cooking course, and I guarantee it will reward you one night later this semester. Moreover, you'll have 1-5 easy credits added towards graduating on time.



#3. CHEAT CHEAT CHEAT. You are in college now. No more of that high school, writing on your hand or rubber band bullshit. Time to step your game up. At the end of the day, no one cares how you pass, just as long as you pass. Chances are that you will have at least one difficult class each semester that you are going to struggle through. In order to pass them you need to know the various tactics of effective and stealthy cheating. You would think that cheating is easiest when in a lecture hall. Wrong. Professors think that they have eliminated the success of cheating by giving out different tests. Well I have found ways around this. Lectures can contain up to approximately 600 people, meaning that the instructor obviously cannot match your name with your face (unless you make it a habit of sporadically yelling out "O'Doyel Rules" in the middle of class). All you need is someone that knows the test material or someone in another section that has already taken the exam (and maybe a 20 dollar bill) to take the exam for you. It's that simple. Also, some teachers will put their lectures into media files on Blackboard where you can download them and put them on to your nifty little iPod. I must say I have bobbed my head to the beat of a final review during my entire final exam for 5 semesters. And when instructors are actually generous enough to allow the use of a single note card on a test, it is your scholarly duty to make at least 7 and rotate them throughout the test session. Who memorizes information in 2008? Not Dash and I advise you to follow my lead my young apprentice. I don't even write my own research papers. No, I don't believe this is plagiarism. Copying all your information from one source is bon a fide plagiarism. Redrafting information from an abundance of sources is what I like to call extensive research. Think about that.

Look. You know the deal: I'm dropping 3 gems and I'm out. Hopefully, you remain undeclared and take a lot of Golf and Tae Kwon Doe classes. I say this because the classes that actually make up your major and prepare you for your future profession (the classes that really matter)are the classes that you most likely will do well (if not change your god damn major). It's those bloody core courses that will attack your gpa. And here at Team Dashy, we feel that class should be the last thing stressing you throughout your college career. You have bigger fish to fry. Did you get that fat chick pregnant? Is health services open for late night emergency visits? How do you get all those porn pop-ups to stop attacking your roommate's laptop? I'm just saying...

I Will "Take That" No More Diddy...

Let me open up this passage with a simple question directed solely to Mr. Sean "Diddy" Combs: Since when did you rule the world? For some odd reason, you have come to believe that you have become the king of the music/entertainment industry. How you have come to this conclusion about yourself baffles me and anyone else who might witness you all over television acting the complete fool. Now I can't watch the rest of the nonsense "reality" shows that come on MTV because you, sir, have decided to make not one, but TWO bullshit bands. Mind you, we don't even bring up the very first band you attempted to assemble (even though that band was BY FAR more entertaining than any of your more recent creations). Yes, I am obviously talking about the tribe of ignorant hoodrats you so eloquently named "Da Band". Do you know how much America loved Da Band? Every single week, my high school physics teacher wouldn't even give my class homework on nights when your very first Making the Band was scheduled to air. Do you know how much my friends and I laughed at the sheer sight of Ness, who struggled with weight issues and strongly resembled Goo from Nickelodeon's "My Brother & Me" or Wendel from "The Parenthood"? We thought you was just showing America your sense of humor by effectively recreating Dave Chappelle's idea of the Mad Real World by putting these miscreants in one home. Anyway, Da Band was the worst group of all time; however what made them cool was the very fact that every week you would shut the studio down and you refused to acknowledge Dylan as the greatest rapper of all time. Yet, today you've got these suburban bands who just make us angry. Aside from all the flashing lights and semi-humorous interruptions with Diddy wearing oversized shirts saying statements like "Long Live The King," there is nothing entertaining about this show. And, where do you get the names of these bands from? Danity Kane? STOP PUTTING "DK" IN LIGHTS. Unless you plan on having a giant gorilla come out on the stage to kidnap one of your blond performers, I don't want to see it. I hope a little Japanese man from Nintendo sees this and sues your ass, Diddy. And let us not forget about Day 26. You might as well chalk that project right now. I happened to catch their music video one day during the two hour time block that "Music Television" actually plays a couple music videos. After watching this nonsense I was 100% certain that their choreographer, without a shadow of a doubt, taught this routine while in a wheelchair. I've never seen so much arm motion in my life. And who thought that it was acceptable to put in special effects to make it look like they were in the matrix? You are all doofuses (doofusi?) and I hope your plane crashes...and then of course Diddy will make millions from a tribute track...

I must move on before I get thoroughly disgusted and punt my laptop. While watching this MTB4 (by the way, WE'RE ON SEASON 9 JACKASS), I actually thought that I could catch a break when the commercials finally came on. But NO...what else do I see? I see you Mr. Combs, fully dressed in a well tailored suit, seated in a chair telling me that you have another show airing on VH1 entitled "I Want to Work for Diddy". The idea of this show just gives me the willies. First off, who in his right mind would want to work for you? You are not Donald Trump. You sign artists that make one hit and are never heard from again. Oh you need examples? What ever happened to B5? They're probably dropping some background vocals on Sesame Street (and the 24 year old brother in the group is PISSED). 8Ball & MJG are terrible. I'm leaving 8Ball (who humorously resembles an 8 ball so his stage name does not impress) a Baconator in his mail box, and I will video tape his disappointment when he discovers it is made entirely of rubber and squeaks when squeezed. 112 was a legit R&B group as they whined out bedroom classics. But I hear they have broken up over money issues (because Diddy needs all that cash). Loon, Dream (Diddy's first set of white girls), Kane (Diddy's WHITE RAPPER PROJECT), and G Dep: WHO? All Mario Winans ever did was cry on every single track. True Story: there's an interlude on his album where he blows his nose for 7 seconds. Carl Thomas. How the shit are you on a label called BAD BOY and you have the softest voice of all time?! Black Rob most likely got shot on a corner due to his excessive need to keep it real and mumbled "WHOA" as he died while sprinkling crack on himself. Shyne is never getting out of prison and is definitely scraping money together to sponsor a hit on Diddy. I'm certain Faith Evans is irrelevant in 2008. And your former sidekick Mase became a preacher and then somehow joined G-Unit as "Murder Mase" (still having the slowest flow of all time). Let's face it Danity Kane and Day 26: as soon as your shows are no longer on the TV at night, Diddy will rob and rape you (figuratively and literally).  Then you too can claim to have had hits or classics but now work as head hostess in your hometown's Chilli's.

If your "stars" can't even keep employment at Bad Boy, how are these normal people going to survive? You got fat boys running around New York in their underwear claiming that he is the Applesauce Bandit and women ripping out their own eyelashes just for amusement on http://www.diddy.com/. How is this even considered training for becoming an assistant of some sort? Can you actually put "Diddy's Applesauce Bandit" on a resume? This show should just be called "Diddy's Bitch". While I do enjoy watching America's underclass complete ridiculous challenges, it also saddens me that they are doing it for a man who is ridiculed for his main claim to fame: ad-libbing on other artists' tracks as he whispers "...take that, take that...". TAKE WHAT DIDDY?!?! Congratulations. You made the exclamation used after winning a round in Battleship an actual quote the Valedictorian used in his speech at graduation last June. How is it that you achieved so much success? How is it that Biggie's sidekick stole all the spotlight once he died? You should have gone to jail because I think you killed that large man. That's right I said it. Diddy orchestrated the East Coast/West Coast war so he could inconspicuously rise into relevance. Well done sir...hit 'em while no one's looking.

And this new show that you are coming out with where you are trying to make "the next pop star" should be X'ed before you even begin. I can't take 3 Diddy influenced shows on the air at the same time. After seeing what is going on with Donnie your "budding" solo star on ice, I am convinced you will never succeed in this endeavor. This poor white man moves like Pinocchio as he jerks his body across the stage. He will never be a Justin Timberlake or Usher or anything that even resembles a qualified dancing R&B artist. Sigh...It's over for Bad Boy Entertainment Mr. Combs. The only entertainment I now receive from Bad Boy is the fact that you thought you could revive the careers of New Edition. You should be slapped with O.J.'s gloves dipped in dog shit. Just accept it...when you thought it was necessary to hold a press conference to urgently announce that you no longer wanted to go by "Puffy" but "P. Diddy" AND THEN hold another news conference a year later alerting America to simply "drop the P from P. Diddy", you solidified your picture in the Funk & Wagnall's Dictionary next to the term "Village Idiot." You once held the world in the palm of your hand. You had a hit factory pumping out classics I still bump today (I will forever throw my rolly-less wrist in the sky and wave it side to side whether the song is playing or not). 2 of my closest Asian friends and I still have a shiny suit hanging up our closets. I STILL try to drive backwards at 50mph on empty roads. You not only invented the remix, but you and J.Lo invented the "power couple." I loved you Puff Daddy (pause). But when you became Diddy, you became all that was wrong in the world...

The Gumbies...

Who would have thought that in 1954 when the clay animation Gumby first debuted that this green booger looking creature would be the forefather of a commonly worn hairstyle of the 90s decade? For those who do not know, Gumby was a heroic green block of clay who kept children entertained as it was featured on the Howdy Doody Show. Look, you may not know much about Gumby but he is the sole inventor of the “Gumby” cut, or also known as a variation of the high top fade. So I have decided to have my own awards ceremony known as “The Gumbies” where I will set the categories and award its winners. This is a relatively new awards ceremony and it has not yet reached the status of the BET Awards (so Lil Wayne and his skinny jeans will not be performing this year) but I promise sheer entertainment and the one and only Pokey will present the Gumby Vanguard Award for showing longevity in the field of high top fades. So without further ado...

The award for “The Whitest High Top Fade of All Time”
Although German native and Seattle Supersonics forward Detlef Schrempf, Canadian reggae artist Snow, and Vanilla Ice are all valid contenders for our first award, I must give the award for the Whitest High Top Fade to Kid from the rap group Kid N’ Play. This trailblazer in high top fadery is whiter than John McCain. The melanin challenged dancing rapper has consistently had the most well-groomed and artistically designed high top fade throughout the 90s. Now he does Wal-Mart commercials. Well played sir...

The award for “The Most Dancing While Donning a High Top Fade of All Time”
This category’s winner was initially a no-brainer with MC Hammer getting the Gumby trophy; however after a recount of the votes between MC Hammer, The Fresh prince of Bel-Air’s Will Smith, and Vanilla Ice, none of these nominees beat out Zack the Black Ranger from the first season of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. Zack the Black Ranger, if you remember, was such an exquisite dancer that producers of the show made this jiggaboo actually dance as he fought enemies such as the Putty Patrollers. Way to go. All your jumping around inspired Omarion in later years. Thank you for this...

The award for “All Time Nerd with a High Top Fade”
The nominees: Doogie Houser M.D., Family Matters’ Steve Urkel, and Carlton Banks. The winner is clearly Steve Urkel. Even his “Cool Elixir” couldn’t make his white jeans something I would rush to TJ Max to purchase. Furthermore, you still have a high top fade today and you and Gary Coleman go to the same fucking therapist.

The award for “Most Influential Animated High Top Fade of All Time”
This was a tough category. Here we had running were Captain Planet, Hammerman, Vince Lasalle from Recess, Gerald Johansen from Hey Arnold!, and Mr. Sinister from X-Men. All of which were blown out of the water by the majority of the cast of Nickelodeon’s Doug. Doug Funnie, Skeeter Valentine, Roger Klotz, and Chalky Studebaker all sported a different variation of the high top fade thus allowing them to come up to the podium and accept their award while Killer Tofu plays in the background. Well done citizens of Bluffington…

The award for “Most Appearances as a Villain with a High Top Fade of All Time”
This was not a category initially. However, I figured Wesley Snipes hasn’t seen any real shine since the 90s anyway. However this man not only played Blade (the vampire nigga with wild parts cut into the sides of his scalp) but also the bleach blond high top fade having villain Simon Phoenix from Demolition Man, Nino Brown the leader of the Cash Money Brothers in New Jack City, the spotlight greedy saxophonist Shadow Handerson in Mo Betta Blues, and the money swindling Sydney Dean in White Man Can’t Jump. This black bastard has been able to play a villain with a high top fade for more than a decade. Congratulations on this as well as being the darkest nigga in China. Furthermore, whoever convinced Wesley Snipes that bleaching his hair and wearing blue contacts is the most diabolical man of all time. "Hey Wesley, you know what will REALLY get the panties to fall..."

And finally, the Gumby Vanguard Award for displaying incredible consistency in the art of wearing the high top fade throughout the ages: Listerine. I believe nothing needs to be said here…fuck yall.



Congratulations to all of our nominees...

Dash's Guide to College Living (Section I)...

WAKE UP GOD DAMMIT. It’s the month of September and it’s that time of the year again. College orientation and move-in has come and gone and now it’s time to get into the swing of things. For those of you just starting out on this college adventure, you’ve already experienced your new student orientation where the cafeteria food was for some reason utterly delicious and the sight of the multitudes of fresh new women was even more appetizing. Never in your life have you ever met more engaging people. Everyone wanted a new friend so it was easy to spark up a conversation about socket wrenches and made a potential lifelong buddy. Every chick had a life story of some sort which you’ve actively ignored as you internally plotted how you were going to in some way seduce her AND any other female that walked by while she was talking. You’ve already experienced back to school shopping and then packing up all your stuff and cramming it into your parents’ minivan for move in day. You’ve had that awkward conversation with your future roommate about the life and death stuff: where are you from…what’s your major…are you bringing the fridge because I’m bringing the x-box. Now, you have actually moved in to that 40x40 white cube you will spend the remainder of the year living. Young man, WELCOME TO ACADEMIA!!! Now let your education begin…

Firstly, allow me to state this: there is so much more to “higher learning” than going to class, maintaining a high grade point average, participating in extracurricular activities, and resume building. All of that is necessary, I assure you. However, when you go home for Christmas break and are sitting around one night with the old gang and everyone is telling stories of their first semester away from home, no one is going to give two shits about how high your GPA has gotten. They’re going to be too busy praising the ground your boy Terry walks on because he has accomplished knocking down the teaching assistant from his Intro to Lit course in the university’s library stacks…TWICE. Yes, Terry is the man, but HEY you have a 3.76 grade point average; so theoretically Terry should work for you one day. Yet, because Terry seems to exude such unparalleled social skills, it could be possible that one day you could work for him and I guess that’s not very fair. So even though I support academic achievement, I still think it is very vital to conquer other areas of college that do not include Scan-Tron sheets and cramming John Locke passages late into the night. So below are some areas of higher learning that aren't taught from a woman with 17 degrees:

Have NO LESS than 10 Disney DVDs (7 animated and 3 unanimated). Oh, you think this shit is gay? Well that’s just the type of thinking that won’t get you any vagina in what should be the most effortless booty-accomplishing time of your life. Rule number 6 in the Dashy Guide to College Achievement: Bitches love Disney shit. By having Disney movies (because DVD dates are extremely affordable on a college budget as well as the gateways to an evening of opportunity) shows a girl that A) you don’t mind watching something that she might like or brings back nostalgic memories, B) it’s the perfect opportunity to cuddle up under the blanket on your sofa or bed, and C) every Disney flick has romantic portions that are very opportune for you to make your own move. By no means do I think women are stupid, but this is a proven way of starting off an evening with a woman quite well. Many times have I paused The Lion King during “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” to feel some fucking lovin’ of my own. And I swear to God, once you master the “Disney-as-my-wingman” tactic, you will NEVER even get passed the opening credits of Finding Nemo. NOTE: If you have 10 Disney DVDs you need to have at least 20 DVDs that are not animated or child related. A college male with only Disney movies is just creepy…

Master the art of Facebook and AIM: The Facebook has become the number 1 social network in America. Even my mother is on Facebook. AIM Instant Messaging used to be the most common means of communication besides text messaging among teens and college students. Yet, Facebook has added Facebook chat and it's growing. But still, you can use the powers of Facebook to initiate conversation and then use AIM to keep your subject engaged and intrigued. With that being said, it's necessary to harness the powers of these two mediums and use them for your own purposes. Despite what your parents and grade school teachers always told you, everyone loves a wise guy. No one reads Facebook profiles unless they are interesting and/or funny. Women particularly don’t care that your favorite movie is 300. But I guarantee you’ll catch someone’s attention if you type: "I enjoyed going to see Sex in the City three times. And each time I dressed up as Ironman, the Hulk, or Hancock and punched any man I caught in the theater NOT dressed up like Ironman, the Hulk or Hancock." Who really cares about the “About Me” section? Just type something obscure and maybe someone reads it. The objective of Facebook gets accomplished by the first part of this compound word: your FACE. This would be why so many people scramble to put up their most attractive pictures (whether it’s the picture from last weekend’s party or from your 8th grade formal). Side note: it really isn’t cool seeing what you chicks do in the bathroom. I see these dumb fucking albums you post every Monday. What the fuck possesses you bitches into going to a bathroom and taking pictures of each other next to soap dispensers? Who wants to see a bitch posing in a bathroom with damp hands? I really hate that shit. I actually have put together a task force of myself and three friends dedicated to busting these female bathroom operations. We are equipped with bulletproof vests, tear gas, and tazers. Bitches, you have been warned. Anyway, it is the profile picture alone that will get you implemented into the Facebook culture. The better looking (or in some cases, the more creative) your profile picture appears, the quicker you will discover friend and group requests, and event invitations when you log in. Moreover, I understand that we all hate when our inbox gets filled with message reminders from party promoters and frat house party updates; but they will keep you in the loop of the social life on and around your college community. Remember, some of you may not be 21 and can’t just walk into a nearby bar. You need to know who’s throwing these bangers around your campus. So don’t be so quick to “decline” a friend request from Raymond “I-throw-the-illest-most-coked-out-flyest-bitches-havin’-newest-music-bumpin-parties-of-all-time” Wellington III. Facebook can be very influential to your college career. However, I warn you that the more you immerse yourself into the Facebook culture, the more likely the Facebook will turn on you (i.e. photos popping up of you in the background raiding the frat house refrigerator or tonguing down one of the muscular softball chicks).

Learn Greek: Every college has Greek Life on its campus. Explore that. According to the TV shows and the movies, these are supposedly the WILDEST parties of life. We're talking about the KY Jelly wrestling matches, indoor beach parties, live band keggers, Golf Pros & Tennis Hos themed parties, etc. The frat houses are three floors of sex, drugs, and rock & roll (literally) located all around your campus. Every Thursday through Saturday evening they are open to all the students to get their groove on. Of course the ladies are getting in for free. The frats want the women, but the women want more than just the frat guys. So that’s why they let non-Greek guys in. But as a non-Greek guy, they are going to charge you, especially if the party has yet to get popping so to speak. So when you get there, and you initially pay between $2 and $15, make sure you get your money’s worth and put in ground work as you get to know the brothers throwing the shin-dig. I don’t recommend you kiss ass because then they are going to think you want to pledge and then they will definitely charge you everytime they see you (and probably ask you to stick around to help clean up afterward). Just enjoy the party and make yourself a fixture as a cool guy looking to party so that when you show up at their door next week they let you in for free because they know you’re down to make a great party. Furthermore, Greek parties are where the magic (and mushrooms) happens. So embrace the frats. Some of the guys in can be dicks, but you’re just using their house as a setting to hone your social skills and set yourself up for future stories that will define your collegiate career in ways only described as Van Wilder-esque.

Well, I can’t give you all the jewels of my handbook at once so you’re just going to have to stick around for further ways to develop a better social education. Just understand that although many universities have different environments, demographics, and campus staples, these three aspects of a college will remain the same regardless of where you go to school. So get out there and find a chick on Facebook. Get her to message you her screen name. Then ask her to meet you at a frat house where you got the hook up with the brothers who can score you the good weed and secret liquor stash on the upper floors. Then after the party, bring her back to your dorm room, offer her some Easy-Mac, and pop in Toy Story. And take that chick to infinity and beyond...

The World's Greatest Evil...

America, we are living in tumultuous times. The presidential election of November 2008 is hastily approaching. The fate of the free world is up in the air like a basketball at tip off time. However, the two hands reaching for this ball are the brown hands of a man who will without a doubt catch the “itis” while delivering his State of the Union address because he ate too much poultry in the greenroom and the delicate and well manicured hands of an Alaskan woman (some would call her an Eskimo…dammit) because McCain died of shock when someone told him there was such a thing known as sexual harassment in the workplace. Al Gore has me believing that it’s pointless to even think about having children (or paying off college loans for that matter) because anything below the Mason Dixon line will inevitably become the new millennium’s Atlantis due to global warming. Hurricane Katrina came to America and achieved what she wanted and, like a European immigrant in 1913, sent home for her cousins and they are now here terrorizing our southern states yet again. Diddy has not one, but TWO (2) television shows airing simultaneously on two different channels. In the name of Zeus’ beard, can someone tell me what kind of world we live in now?!?! With all of these calamities pushing the walls in around us faster and faster, you would think that I have something to speak out on. Never fear, I have found the root of all this evil. The father of all iniquity resides in Florida, my children. Nothing on this planet represents immorality and sheer wickedness to the extent that I witnessed when I took a trip to Disneyworld in Orlando, Florida. This motha fucka Mickey Mouse is without a doubt Mr. Sinister himself in a god damned tuxedo jacket with tails. Go get a bottled cranberry juice and sit on the floor Indian style in front of this computer screen and pay close FUCKING attention, I have a story to tell…

First of all, everything you used to believe about Mickey Mouse is a bold faced lie. Anything regarding this icon as a giant, jolly, and cordial rodent in a well knotted bow tie is an absolute lie. Remember back to your childhood when you would go to Disney and take pictures next to Mickey Mouse and he towered over you as you wore your own Mickey ears and sipped a Capri Sun from a straw poked through the missing tooth gap in your mouth. Oh yes, as a child all you probably committed to memory was actually taking that picture. No one ever recollects standing in a line so ridiculously long you would think there was endless gold at its end. But is there gold at the end? No. It’s just a polyester mouse with no vocal cords who thinks it’s perfectly alright to play peek-a-boo with every child that comes up to him. Why in Apollo’s name do we stand in these outlandishly long lines just to shake hands with college students (or Cubans) dressed up as life sized cartoon characters? And, what about these people that actually get paid to pantomime from nine to five? They couldn’t hire me to play Mickey Mouse for a day. I would jump into pictures I wasn’t even supposed to be near. You think you’re taking a picture hugged up with Goofy and I’m in the background throwing up the Westside sign, bitch! All you want is picture with Winnie the Pooh (by the way, what the shit is a “Pooh” and why does he think it’s completely acceptable to wear a red child’s small t-shirt to cover his nipples but his belly, balls, and toes can hang all out…just wondering) and in the background you see me luring 3 children away with candy. What?!?! All I’m trying to say is that I can’t possibly understand what keeps these “actors” motivated to stay in character all day and not want to go have some mischievous fun of their own. It is 1000 degrees in those costumes and you’re telling me you want to wave and hug non-English speaking tourist all day. I refuse to believe it.

It doesn’t end there either. You would think Mickey is larger than life. I mean come on; he has theme parks, television channels, movie studios, cartoons, video games, toys, story books and magazines all created from his image. This man is a brand name (the original Blue Magic) that people have built their careers. I walked up to Mickey for the first time last week and thought I was standing next to Midget Mac in god damn Stewart Little costume. Don’t let the pictures fool you people; Mickey Mouse is 4’11” and that’s with his little gold boots. All my life I thought Mickey Mouse was 7’30” and come to find out he can’t even get on half the rides in his own theme park. I wish I was Mickey Mouse and you tell me I can’t get on Space Mountain. I would rip off one my ears and fling it at the bridge of your nose like a black Frisbee. To be honest though, I think Mickey is actually used to violent behavior like that. Here is an assignment: take a brief break from this passage and YouTube some old Steamboat Willie clips of Mickey back in the old days. He is a documented animal abuser and racist. I lie to you not; I caught a lot of the different characters of Disney engaging in sketchy behavior all weekend, too. First off, Mickey treats Goofy AND Pluto like shit. Mickey kicks Pluto whenever he sees him. I witnessed Mickey sitting in a chair and he noticed Pluto walking by holding a woman’s hand. Mickey abruptly stopped what he was doing, tip toed up to Pluto’s left (because those helmets don’t have good peripheral vision), and super kicked him in the head like Shawn Michaels. Mickey then Diddy danced all the way back to his seat and continued taking pictures and no one said or did anything! I saw Cinderella smoking weed behind a dumpster. Huey, Duey, and Luey were cuffed and walked through the park to the Disney Detention Center because they were caught shoplifting. The guy who wears the Eore costume from Winnie the Pooh is just as depressed as the character he plays. It started to rain and while all the other characters (or “cast members” as they are called down there) were running to find cover, he just sat there trying to slit his wrists with a pen cap. It’s tragic how they act when they think no one is looking.

Characters aside, the actual Disney campus is outrageous. It’s like its own country with its own money and law enforcement. I promise you this: if you heard terrible stories about the Los Angeles or New York Police Department, it probably pales in comparison to the Disneyworld Police Department. These guys are the most disgruntled and anal law enforcement brigade of all time. I blame it on those uniforms they have to wear. They look like pilots and their badges are the shape of Mickey’s head. What sick bastard thought it would be cool to mold a law enforcement badge into the shape of a harmless cartoon character’s head? So with that, they feel that they must be the most fearsome toddler task force of all time. They pepper spray areas of the park when they feel there’s too many children crying. If you lose track of your child and they find little wandering Timmy, they actually incarcerate the child, not the parent. True story: they shut the wading pool (the pool that is only 2 feet deep) down at my resort for an hour because there was too much splashing and noise. They then pushed the life guard on duty around their circle of Disney Police like bullies because they felt she was weak at her post. Oh, and don’t call these cops the Goof Troop. They hate that…and they chase you until they catch you. And no, you cannot outrun them. Their rage turns them all into Jamaican sprinters.

Finally, Mickey Mouse and the Monopoly Man must have been golf buddies because Disneyworld has the most thorough understanding of complete monopoly ever. You can’t eat, drink, or travel anywhere around Disney unless you pay Mickey Mouse. Furthermore, Mickey knows this and he sets the most offensive prices for everything. I spent $200 at a bar on 3 Long Islands and 4 draft beers. If I wasn’t so drunk when I cashed out, I would have caused a scene when the register did the Mickey laugh as my receipt printed. Food is unreasonably expensive and they only serve it 4 times a day, so you have to eat it. $11 for a turkey and cheese sandwich (not including a beverage) and it isn’t even filling. The restaurants all start their meals with $11-17 appetizers. The shuttles refuse to take you anywhere that isn’t a Disney theme park or Disney resort. I was walking to McDonalds for a late night snack and a shuttle pulled up in front of me. Chip and Dale jumped out threw a potato sack over my head and I woke up tucked in my bed in footed pajamas and Hannah Montana was on the TV. Mickey must rake in 20 million a day on food, liquor, and transportation alone.

You know where the ultimate evil comes into play though? Yes, Disney captures children’s imaginations and keeps them wanting to come back for more. They want their parents to buy Mickey ears, get their face painted, dine in the magic castle, experience the Pirates of the Caribbean and ride the Buzz Lightyear rides in Tomorrowland. That stuff is colorful and loud and leaves children hypnotized. Meanwhile parents are stuck enduring all the childish stuff just so that their kids don’t grow up feeling cheated out of a childhood milestone. However, wait until the end of the night. It's then the grown man’s turn to get mesmerized by bright lights and loud sounds. Every night at 8pm the Disney parade rolls through the Magic Kingdom. Not only were the kids wide mouthed and captivated by these elaborate floats made to resemble a scene from every single Disney movie, but I too, was awestruck by what was actually happening on these floats. When the villain float came passed, I swear the witch from Snow White and I caught eyes and she gave me the finger before she disappeared into smoke. Captain Hook jumped off the float and ran at some children who were booing him. Like ran at them full speed. Cinderella and the Prince were riding in the pumpkin coach and he was definitely feeling her breast as they waved to onlookers. Mickey walked out with the Nation of Islam surrounding him. It was ridiculous. Who does this Mickey Mouse think he is? All I could do was shake my head as the children and parents followed the parade all around the park like zombies in the night. Anyway, I won’t be attending any other Disney events. I returned home broke but I did buy a pair of those four fingered Mickey gloves. I only did that so that when I am in a bar and start raising the roof, I can attract under-aged men and women to slap before I report them to the bouncers. Bouncers who also have pending applications with the DWPD...