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

So, I had to cut off the soundtrack of my life to right of this screen and dig into my dusty CD collection to write this post. I had to take it back to the days when taking turns on the computer and burning mix cd’s were the thing to do on a Tuesday or after a terrible party night. Everyone talks about how college is all about the connections you make and the experiences you have as result of those connections. See, I always thought college was all about Cup o’ Noodles, “surprise” diarrhea in the washing machine, kegs & eggs, and math (the world’s ratio of breasts to balls is 2:2…roughly). Yet, what purpose does fecal matter in washer A4 serve if I have no one to bitch to that my whites are now brown? Furthermore, if it was I who performed this mischievious act, if I don’t have anyone to laugh about this dastardly deed with, why even do it? That would be just weird. I say this because regardless of whether you’re doing the shitting or getting shitted upon, you need a group of peers by your side to commemorate your experiences. Thus, I have decided to divulge the science of creating the perfect peer group. Being a male, I write this for the benefit of my male readers; ladies you are more than welcome to read along as well and get a glimpse into the carefully orchestrated situation we like to call the "group setting." So…back by popular demand, I bring yet another section vital to your college survival: Formulating the E-Board.

Let me begin this third installment of the college living series by stating this: the E-Board is your crew. Throughout your college years you will come across many types of people: chicks who you have class with, chicks you want to knock down, guys who will get you into the party for free, cafeteria employees, the weed man, the chicks upstairs that are always down for the Domino’s 555, guys you will go to the gym with, the kid who always leaves his room unlocked, etc. They walk around you each and every day but they cannot all be in your inner circle. Your inner circle needs to be a nucleus of people that can mesh and aid the overall group in social settings. Below, I give you the different pieces along with their purposes to creating the perfect E-Board.

The Financial Backer: In any business there needs to be a money man. Now the E-Board is not some student organization with a treasury. That would require a "treasurer" and treasurers are usually very stingy when it comes to company funds. He is always analyzing whether or not something is a good financial move and putting the clamp on unnecessary buys. The Financial Backer’s purpose is somewhat like a treasurer only he does not operate as miserly. No, no, no. Situation: The E-Board is at the door of the party and two of us don’t have the money to get in. Instead of some of the group going in and forcing the other two to wait in the car, the Financial Backer fronts the money so we can all get in. Is he just an overly generous man? Shit no! 9 times out of 10, he’s pissed off. He is the most stressed out member of the E-Board because he knows that when we all go to the ATM at 10pm, while everyone else takes out $20, he takes out $60. He knows that there is always someone on the team crying broke, so he knows there’s a strong chance he won’t get repaid anytime soon. However, the true beauty of the Financial Backer is not that he relishes in the fact that he controls the money. A great Financial Backer understands the fact that the memories made on any given night are priceless. He understands that Voltron is only effective when it’s got all the pieces in place. So despite the fact that he’s peeved that he’s got to put up more money for the house party, put $10 extra in the gas tank, or buy a chick he isn’t even interested in a long island ice-t, he’s going to do it because more than anyone on the E-Board, he understands and appreciates the time the group spends together and the memories made. Moreover, he tends to attract chicks that see him spending money (money hungry bitches) and a lot of times money hungry bitches have friends. So he always has at least a guaranteed two chicks coming back to the E-Board house for an after party…


The Bully: Look, if you’re a pretty boy, they think you’re soft. If you’re smart, they are going to think you’re weak. If you’re all about a good time, they’ll think you’re dumb. This will apply to the company you keep as well. However, no matter what type of group you find yourself in, that group is going to need a bully. The Bully regulates when no one else will. The Bully also knows other bullies. His purpose is not to run the E-Board with an iron fist though. He doesn’t use his bullying superpower on the E-Board but rather on everyone outside of the E-Board. The Bully serves two main purposes: 1. He is 24/7 protection. This guy is always down for a good fight regardless of cause. He also is the most aware of possible causes for altercation. Plenty of times has the bully on my E-Board pulled me aside at a party or bar and warned me of something about to "pop off." On the other side, he’s the guy in your group others are most aware of if an altercation ever does arise. 2. He serves as the “thug” chicks subliminally desire. Let’s face it. A lot of chicks like a dude to be bigger, stronger, and give off a sense of ignorant manliness. The Bully serves as the “gulliest” guy in the group in respect to its other members. Take it in these terms: if the group is wearing suits and ties, the Bully puts on khakis and a button up with the top button undone. And no, he does not wear a tie either. If the group is wearing white t-shirts, jeans and boots, the Bully is wearing a knife and nunchucks (...and perhaps an eye patch even). The Bully will also bully (ironic) a couple of weak chicks into coming back to the E-Board's crib after the party. The Bully also has no problem throwing chicks out of the after party to make the guy to girl ratios suitable for the E-Board. Lord knows I would never kick a chick in the butt, but the Bully will kick a chick hard with no remorse...


The Diplomat: Every group needs a PR man. The Diplomat serves as just that. The key to the Diplomat is that he must possess the unique quality of crossing racial lines. Your group should be very diverse when it comes to personalities but let’s face it: races tend to stick together. So a lot of times you will find that one black guy in the group of all white guys or vice versa. It's like they had an affirmative action member thrown into the mix. Oh, how I find this so lame and counterproductive. So, that’s where the Diplomat works his magic. Instead of adding a member to the E-Board because he fits in but just happens to be a different color, add a member who is the same color as the group but is known to hang out with people of a different color. So what, you black boys got a white boy in your group. He acts black and only likes black chicks. Thus, you’ll still be doing the same things whether he’s on your E-Board or not. I prefer the black boy who is from the suburbs, acts white, and likes Latin chicks. He might look like me, but if we never met then I would never have been exposed to beer bongs, themed parties, bagel bites, and fire crotches. The overall purpose of an E-Board is to have a diverse crew that enhances your college experience. The Diplomat’s purpose is to provide opportunities that no other member of the crew could provide. Have you ever been to “Hi-Liter Party?” Consult your Diplomat if you have not because then he is not doing his FUCKING job. The Diplomat is guaranteed to provide at least one foreign chick and one friend (may or may not be foreign) to the E-Board house after the party.


The On Button: This guy is the blood of the E-Board. He is probably the most influential cat in the crew. Through the blessings of the party gods (Frank the Tank and John Belushi), he was created and brought to the E-Board to breathe spontaneity into any situation. He is basically the Beastie Boys crammed into one body. The party hasn’t started until this guy has sprayed his face with shaving cream and somehow has gotten chicks to sit on his lap and tell him what they want for Christmas. He just makes chicks feel comfortable with relaxing and enjoying the moment (whatever that might be at the time). I believe some of you people would say he has “swagger.” Sidenote: NIGGAS STOP REFERRING TO YOURSELVES ON FACEBOOK AS SHIT LIKE, John SUPERSWAG Doe. I want to beat you fucks with your skull studded belts. If you have to assert to yourself and trick complete strangers that you have this coveted “swagger” then you don’t have it. Swagger. I believe that term is designated for anyone wearing True Religion jeans or a Louis V scarf. You can learn swagger. You can create swagger. The On Button doesn’t possess swagger. The On Button just has a beautiful gene that allows him to recognize social situations and possess the ablility to make them comfortable for everyone involved. Unfortunately, The On Button tends to access his special powers at their truest form when he’s under the influence of drugs and/or alcohol. So, a lot of the time The On Button tends to get into some type of predicament at some point. The On Button will assure a good time for everyone in the party, but at 4am you are going to have to pick his unconscious and naked body up from the school library steps, clothe him, and then chase him after he “escapes” from your car as you try to take him home. The best part of The On Button is he is the most sociable of the E-Board, so he is the perfect playcaller or wingman. Whether you are steering the ship or he is, he can always make a 2 on 2 (2 chicks and 2 guys) a memorable night. The On Button will always get a minimum of 3 chicks to come back to the E-Board's house to continue the party…

Daniel Ocean: This would be the final component to the E-Board. If The On Button is the blood and adrenaline, the Bully being the muscle, the Financial Backer the brain (and pockets), and the Diplomat being the mouth, then Daniel Ocean is the head of this Voltron that is the E-Board. He is the link that brings all these characters into one force. He is the mastermind behind getting everyone together. He is normally the brains of the operation as he decides where and when the pre-game will happen, recommends what chicks should be invited (and not invited), what parties the crew will attend, etc. He is the president of the E-Board but doesn’t speak on it because it’s recognized by everyone in the group. He’s the invisible hand. Being the common denominator of the entire team, he can play wingman for every member at any given time. Because, he is often running the position of wingman, he rarely accomplishes a set number of chicks to bring to after party. He just shows up and continues to play wingman or hones in on chicks that are there in surplus...

Remember, one of the reasons why men enjoy college so much is because of the potential to get busy with multitudes of women. So keep in mind, you will open yourself up to way more women if you work collectively with a team of guys with whom you have created chemistry. Furthermore, the essence of a fun (and successful) evening is achieving a popping afterparty. No one wants to party until 2am just so he can go to bed at 2:30am. I assure you, unless you are Van Wilder himself, it is impossible for one man to entertain a post-2am shin dig in the apartment or dorm room with just himself and 5-6 women. I don't care how much liquor he has or how much attention he spent that afternoon creating the "perfect" iPod play list. The E-board is about a group of 5 guys who work together to entertain 5 chicks with the overall objective of getting everyone laid. By the group working as one, the popping afterparty solidifies another successful team effort. It was a great man (I believe it was Mr. Rogers actually) who once said, "ain't no fun if the homies don't get none." And THAT my children is the motto of every chapter of the E-Board. Questions, comments, or concerns...contact Daniel Ocean.

TUMail Evolution...

This would be the bullshit. My life is in absolute upheaval. This would not be caused by last week's election results, but because of the fact that Temple University feels as though it is necessary to "fix" things that don't need to be fixed. Why is it that people are always trying to innovate things that are already sufficient enough?

Well as we all know, Temple University Mail is now powered by Google (now isn't this just dandy...). Now I can receive AOL IM's, Facebook chat messages, AND chat bubbles all in my school's email. Just when I thought that there was nothing worse than that childish bubble pop you hear upon receiving a Facebook chat message (that pop noise is the one a 5 year old girl with a red juice mustache does with her gum in the desk behind me in kindergarten), I was exposed to this new "poomp" sound (yes...a "poomp") created by my new Gmail account. Outrageous. I shouldn't have to deal with this malarkey. It's almost impossible to stay OUT of contact these days. Do you know what this means? Anyone that has your Temple email address can attack you with a chat message at ANY time. I swear to God, if I hear that noise and look at that little window to the bottom right of my screen and it contains the name Professor Giammorco, that man is going to disappear and awaken half naked in a grimey and dimly lit room several days later with thousands of fully loaded staple guns around him and a vintage Talkboy tied to a string on his wrist labeled, "I want to play a game" (it's 2008...I can't find a tape recorder anywhere).

Besides this emerging issue of being utterly vulnerable to the new evils of spontaneous communication, after I touch a mouse and double-click the Internet Explorer icon (p.s...I've just received a "poomp" message from my mother via TUmail) I see that I have lost ALL of my emails from before November 13, 2008. Please let me find the idiot who came up with the BRILLIANT idea to delete everyone's emails halfway through a semester (and what do we call that period of time? oh yes: midterm time). I was getting along just fine by emailing papers to myself instead of purchasing a flash drive. Now my inbox that had archives upon archives of perfectly edited academic papers on various subjects has been thoroughly depleted. Was this change that important that it could not wait until winter break? Winter break: you know, that time when there are no classes! I feel as though I could have made it the rest of the semester without the pointless extra features of Gmail and the deletion of email addresses of TA's and instructors. What do I need a photos link in my email for? Isn't that why Facebook exists? This shit is nonsense...

On top of all this, now I have to deal Temple University's everlasting technical issues. Why is it that I am required to change my password every 84th hour? I am quite certain no one wants to read the thousands of spam messages I get via TUmail. Now after being mandated to change my password, I can't even get into my email account. Somehow, even though I had to type it TWICE to verify the change, the server tells me that my password is incorrect. Oh really, server? I JUST CHANGED THIS SHIT 3 MINUTES AGO. You would think there would be an easy way to reset your password in a situation like this. Nope, absolutely not. Click on the "forgot password" link and look at the security questions that they give you. How the hell are going to ask me questions about myself that I don't even know? Who do think you are, server? I do not remember what time I was born nor who my favorite pop singer was at the time I registered my account. What ever happened to entering your birthday or your social security number? Now security is based on whether or not someone can guess what your favorite Dr. Seuss book was when you were five. This shit is pitiful...

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...

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...

"Aight, Just Gimme a Whopper..."

College (also see University)
col·lege
Pronounced: \ˈkä-lij\(noun)

1. A wonderous place made for attaining large quantities of sexual encounters
2. An institution designed for higher learning that is commonly used as an excuse for adolescents to move as far away from their parents as financially possible
3. The number one cause of debt in America (because of Sallie Mae mainly)
4. An environment where there is a common agreement that it is mandatory to go out every Thursday through Saturday night (length may increase according to which campus one attends) and drink as many alcoholic beverages as possible while trying to accomplish sexual achievements with the opposite sex. Those that do not follow this common agreement are dubbed "gay, pussies, nerds, geeks, losers, lovers of bitch-ass-ness, etc."
5. A setting where fast food chains can commonly be confused with one another due to late night menus and the effects of previously consumed tasty beverages...
Cited from Dashy's Dictionary 2008. Page 563.

Yes, each of these definitions correctly illustrates a different aspect of what college is all about. Originally, there were only 4 corresponding definitions to this word. However, after one recent night's turn of events, I felt like it was absolutely necessary to include the last definition mentioned...

Storytime:
It was a Friday night. This means that it was mandatory Dash to go out, find a house, drink all of the alcohol in the building, and stumble off into the night. On this particular night, I was accompanied by one of my close friends, Twister and another friend of his, Squid. We ventured out 9 blocks to a house party that we heard about via the social deathtrap known as "The Facebook." Upon arrival we were overwhelmed by the appalling scene of this "party." Male to female ratio is 4:1...but it's alright. Why? Because there are 3 coolers located in the kitchen filled to the brim with tasty beverage. I look at Twister and he does the nonverbal head nod and corresponding facial expression letting me know that it's another one of those nights where we ride it out and deplete any amount of alcohol that enters those coolers. Well played Twister. Well played indeed.

About an hour or so later, after going through a couple of cooler refills and attempted drunken dances with random fat bitches, Twister, Squid, and I decided it was time to depart this hot, dimly lit venue and return to the dorm for some intense rounds of Mario Kart on the N64. On the way out we run into one of our female friends who is obviously concerned about our safety and decides to walk with us on our way back home (also I think she just wanted to be the 4th Mario Kart competitor). Drunk to sober ratio is now 3:1 and these are not very good odds. So along the way, 3 of the 4 get lost. I honestly cannot tell you where they went or how they got lost together but now it's just me. But I can always find my way home. I simply use fast food restaurants as landmarks. Why? Because it's quite impossible to remember what street leads where, let alone attempt to read street signs in the dark while you are intoxicated. Look, in North Philadelphia, squinting your eyes while looking up to read street signs on street corners is a clear indicator that you're looking to get robbed.  So after wandering aimlessly for a good 5 to 10 minutes, I see those beautiful Golden Arches and I am instantly relieved because I am home free. It's a cakewalk from here because I know exactly where I am. However, I was extremely famished, so I decided to go inside...

Prepare yourself; this next section is vulgar and unedited. It is the conversation I had with this bitch behind the register, along with the thoughts that went through my head. The things you are about to read may be disturbing.---

I get to the counter...

Cashier bitch - Welcome to McDonald's what would you like?
Dash's Thought Bubble - (I'm a fucking college student. I'm broke bitch... what do you think I want?)
Dash - Lemme get 3 double cheeseburgers in my life.
-I'm sorry it's after 12 o'clock. We're only doing our late night menu - numbers 2 though 10.
-(AHH!! This the bullshit! I'm certain this bitch can assemble a double cheeseburger after 12 o'clock. This makes no sense! Fuck this bitch...Now I gotta get one sandwich for the same price I could have gotten 3. Might as well just get the biggest sandwich they have to compensate.)
-Aight, just gimme a whopper.
-Sir, you are at McDonald's...
-(BITCH DO I LOOK LIKE I'M BLIND? UNLIKE THAT NIGGA OVER THERE, I AM NOT WEARING SUNGLASSES AT NIGHT...)
-Yea... Ok... I know where I am. Just let me get my whopper.
-I'm sorry but we can't make you a whopper.
-(STOP... Did this bitch just REFUSE my service?--------------SPAZZ ON THIS BITCH RIGHT NOW)
-FUCK YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T MAKE ME A WHOPPER?!?! PUT THE SHIT ON THE GRILL RIGHT NOW... COOK IT AND THEN PLACE IT RIGHT HERE IN MY HAND!! I DON'T NEED WRAPPING PAPER EITHER. IT'S NOT GONNA BE A SURPRISE!
-But sir, this is McDonald's. We don't make...
-(This bitch's visor has to go. Fuck is she wearing that shit for? Does she plan to audit my meal as well? It's gotta go into the fry cooker...)
-GET ME A FUCKING WHOPPER! I DON'T WANNA HEAR NONE OF THAT 'THIS IS MCDONALD'S BULLSHIT'. THE RECIPE FOR A WHOPPER IS NOT A FUCKING SECRET! THERE IS NO SPECIAL SAUCE. NO SECRET INGREDIENTS... JUST A BURGER WITH LETTUCE, TOMATOES, ONIONS AND KETCHUP. AND FUCK ALL THAT SESAME SEED BUN SHIT!

The employees are dumbfounded. Terrified, the girl looks at her chunky ass 56-year-old manager whose back-of-the-neck area eerily resembles a pack of hot dogs (making my appetite grow larger) and he slowly hands her a sandwich.

-Here you go, sir.
-(Jesus... This bitch just handed me a little cardboard box that CLEARLY states "Quarter Pounder w/ Cheese"...)

Just as I am about to hop over the counter, slap that ridiculous visor off of her head, and slam her face upon the mechanism that imprints the little "M" on McGriddle sandwiches, Twister bursts through McDonald's doors.  Twister comes in screaming and yelling things that I cannot possibly understand. Partially because I'm drunk and incoherent and partially because he's speaking Spanish! When the fuck did he learn Spanish?  Why the fuck is he speaking Spanish? I quit. I pick up my little cardboard box as stumble to a table where I sit down and eat the worst Quarter Pounder of my life. Absolutely terrible. They simply could have placed a sandwich in my hand that consisted of only ketchup and sugar inserted into a single bun folded over and told me it was a whopper. And it would have been the best whopper I ever tasted. Ignorance is bliss. However, awareness gets you pissed. I don't even remember paying for it. And I'm glad I didn't because I was thoroughly dissatisfied. McDonald's is a fraud. McDonald's, home of the happy meal, did not put a smile upon my miserable face. And I absolutely DESPISE their commercials. NEVER have I felt the urge to get up and pop and lock like Sisqo in the middle of the restaurant after biting into a sandwich, nor have I ever seen any little white children eating their McNuggets to the beat of the Cha-Cha slide.  If you never saw that commercial, consider yourself lucky.

I'm sick of it. If I ever see Ronald McDonald with his fake ass Zorro companion and that bitch ass purple Pokemon on the street, I'm calling the troops. My boy BK, the Taco Bell Chihuahua, Lil' Wendy (she's tougher than she looks on the cup), Colonel Sanders, Popeye, and the Geico Lizard, and I are all putting on Jack-in-the-Box masks (just so we all look like Joker) and Arby's cowboy hats and then initiating a group stomp upon anyone MCD affiliated. Word to motha.  And then afterwards when they are unable to move because of the pain we've inflicted, I will look down at a crippled Ronald McDonald and ask, "WHY SO SERIOUS?" I will then proceed in shoving thousands of "America's Favorite Fries" into his mouth until he forms somewhat of a grin. Once this is achieved I'll simply state, "We love to see you smile...bitch."