Life for Dummies
You know those books, those Guides to Whatever for Dummies/Idiots? Well I think they just need to make a very long book entitled "Life for Dummies." That should be a bestseller, but with the arrogance in this country, it would never hit the shelves. Sad. But here are some ideas for that book anyhow.
Super-short Skirt + Backpack x Cellulite = Bad ass, not Bada$s: It's a very simple law of science/gravity/common sense that a backpack will hike up whatever you are wearing on the bottom. The word "bottom" is specific, in this story.
I mean come on, Comm Ave is known as a wind tunnel. Did this girl not feel a mighty breeze?
This brings me to an entire discussion of clothes. Apparently, there's a shortage of fabric in the world, because clothing companies have decided to stop completing women's apparel. My personal favorite item is the new sweater. I mean, when it's zero degrees out and wind is making your eyes water and your skin turns bright red after being outside for thirty seconds, well, I don't know about you, but I'm just dying to put on that sweater from Abercrombie and Fitch that has holes all over the place and is half see-through and cuts off at the midriff. Oh yeah, that will keep me reallly warm.
And what kills me is, people BUY into this. They buy those stupid sweaters that you have to wear a tank top under, because otherwise, you'd be wearing a bunch of sewn-together holes. Actually, you know what, most of the people buying those shirts don't wear anything under them anyway!
I was working a Sox game a few months ago, and it was really cold out one night. It had been cold all day. And this girl comes over to me. She's massacred a perfectly good Red Sox shirt by cutting off the sleeves, cutting off the bottom half, slicing the neck, and fringing the whole thing, then twisting it up in a knot so her entire stomach was visible to all. She was also wearing one of the supershort skirts, where it's cool to have the inside pockets peeking out from the hemline of your skirt. Anyhow, this girl asks me if she can go to her car to get a sweatshirt because she's freezing out there. I suggested she untie the knot in her shirt, but she didn't like that idea. Yeah, why cover up the exposed skin? I'm sure THAT's not the cause of her being cold. So I say okay, fine, whatever, go get your sweatshirt. She comes back five minutes later, and I kid you not, with a see-through mesh "sweatshirt". There was no sweat material anywhere. It was a meshshirt. It wasn't even a shirt! It was like she had taken a net and put it over her head. I asked her if that was really going to make her any warmer. She nodded. "Oh yes," she said, "because the holes trap the cold."
I kid you not.
The thing is, I don't know who to blame. Is it the moron wearing the clothes or the jerks selling them?
I want to do an experiment. I want to become a rich lady, so I have this sick plan. And I mean sick in every sense of the word.
What I'm going to do is, I'm going to open a clothing store.
First, with the clothes, I'm going to take them out of the box, stomp on them several times and dump some ash on them for some authentic dirt and worn-in quality, then I'm going to shrink them and put outrageous price tags on them. I'm going to attach stickers around that look really cool telling people that it's the new thing to have "pre-dirty" and "pre-wrinkled" clothes.
I'm going to have scissors scattered around the store, so that when people come in, they can cut the skirts to as short as they want. They can also snip shirts and pants, add slits and holes, to just enhance the look.
In addition, for extra customer satisfaction, I'm going to have a place where I will iron-on any saying you want. There will be copies of literature and famous quotes from bigamists so that the customers can find their favorite insult. A list of stereotypes will be readily availble for clerks to put on the shirts.
And, I have a new plan for those "everyone loves" shirts. To make life simple, and let's face it, to make it more accurate, I'm going to make shirts that say "Everyone Loves a Girl" and "Everyone Loves a Boy" shirt. Because you know, I think they've about covered it. Here's how I look at it: Everyone Loves an Italian Girl + Everyone Loves an Irish Girl + Everyone Loves a Jewish Girl + Everyone Loves a Catholic Girl + Everyone Loves a German Girl = Everyone Loves a Girl* (In that equation Girl = Boy; they're interchangeable.)
People are taking this tshirt craze too seriously. My friend has one of those "Blondes Do It Better" shirts. So one day, I decided to wear it. I don't have blonde hair, which was the point, but soooo many people looked at me like I was a freak. And that's when I realized that there really are two types of people in this world: People who will think that is funny and People who need this guide to life.
Here's another thing I love. Going into Warren, you have to swipe your card. So one friend's card doesn't swipe. Friend 1: "Ahhhh! His card doesn't swipe!" Friend 2: "Oh no, what are we going to do?!" Friend 3: "We better stand right here in front of all of the other card swipers to figure out this problem rather than move to the side so others can get in. If my friend can't get in, NOBODY can!" Friend 4: Good idea. Wait, actually, let's block the escalator out of Warren too!"
Or, waiting for the elevator. Moron 1: "Hold the elevator! John's coming!" Moron 2: "Ok!" Moron 3: "Hey, what's your name? What floor are you on? Are you a freshman? Are you on an all girls floor? You want to hang out?" Moron 4: "Where's John coming from, anyhow?" Moron 1: "West Campus, but he'll be here in like fifteen minutes, but I told him I'd wait for him, and we're supposed to go the gym together then to lunch together then to dinner together then to the shower together, so I have to wait for him." Moron 2: "Oh, great! That sounds great. Can I come too? Wait, let me call Moron 5 and tell him we're going to be a little late, okay?" Moron 2 on the phone, shouting: "I might lose you! I'm getting in an elevator! I'm in Warren. What? What? Wait, I'm losing you... wait, wait... hello? HELLO? HELLO? HELLO? HELLO? Wait, are you still there? Moron 5, are you there? Moron 5? Mor? Shit, I guess I lost him. Oh wait, Wait.. Moron 5?"
Here is an unwritten commandment in life: Thou shalt not hold actual class on the first day of the semester.
It's really there, I swear.
Professors should, at the very most, hand out a syllabus and read it over. The class should take approximately twenty minutes - tops! - if you have to fill out one of those index cards.
There is nothing worse than having actual instruction on your first day. There are signs that instruction is coming. For instance, a professor gives out a handout. That's a sign right there that you're going to be in that room for the whole classtime. That's pretty much a boldprint, italic, underlined indicator that doom is approaching. If the professor places papers on a podium, that's another bad sign. Podiums, in general, are bad signs.
Aside from that commandment, the other unspoken rule is: Thou Shalt End Class On Time.
Class does not end at 12:51. It does not end at 12:50:30. It ends at 12:50. Or 12:49, or any time before then. If the clock reads 12:50, you best be shutting up. I cannot take it when a professor clears his throat at 12:50 and begins a comment. It's that act - the BEGINNING of a comment - that kills me. It means that we're there at least until 12:52. At least. Or when he'll call on another student at 12:49. He's clearly not getting the point. Although in that case, I want to kill the student as well. There's no comment so good that it can't wait until next class, and anybody who thinks that he should keep the entire class an extra ten seconds just to hear his comment is a pompous loser.
Also, some tips for Dining Hall Etiquette:
I know you're entitled to eat anything and everything after swiping in once for a meal, but I really have to say, I get pretty ticked when I see a guy in line for a sandwich, holding a tray with a burrito, slice of pizza, two burgers, plus an entree. I'm not even joking. Dude, you've had your food for the freakin week. Get out of the line!
Or, the people who are standing in line and make it impossible for you to walk across it with a tray. I love these people. They think you're trying to cut them in line. Right. Like I want a burrito on my way to the conveyor belt. That's a good deduction there, Sherlock.
And how about the people who leave the booths a mess? Maybe they think I like the ambience of eating next to half-empty (shut up, this is a pessimstic entry) glasses of orange juice mixed with soda mixed with milk that you concocted at your last meal. Realllly. Yu-um.
In general, there are some more guidelines to life, that do not have to do with Warren Towers or Boston University:
- Jimmy Buffett fans should be fined. All of them. Just because.
- Where it says "no smoking," it means "no smoking." The sign doesn't say "Three puffs tops," or "Smoke Until Someone Threatens You." People are morons.
- If you don't have $1.37 on you in cash, you don't need that gum that badly.
And:
- Never attempt to do a 1000 piece puzzle unless you know you're going to be sick for four or five days and you don't have the internet, cable, a phoneline, or electricity.
Obviously, there are tons of rules that I cannot think of at the moment. Maybe I'll add them later. I'm open to suggestions though. So by all means, if you have a good rule, send it along.
Super-short Skirt + Backpack x Cellulite = Bad ass, not Bada$s: It's a very simple law of science/gravity/common sense that a backpack will hike up whatever you are wearing on the bottom. The word "bottom" is specific, in this story.
I mean come on, Comm Ave is known as a wind tunnel. Did this girl not feel a mighty breeze?
This brings me to an entire discussion of clothes. Apparently, there's a shortage of fabric in the world, because clothing companies have decided to stop completing women's apparel. My personal favorite item is the new sweater. I mean, when it's zero degrees out and wind is making your eyes water and your skin turns bright red after being outside for thirty seconds, well, I don't know about you, but I'm just dying to put on that sweater from Abercrombie and Fitch that has holes all over the place and is half see-through and cuts off at the midriff. Oh yeah, that will keep me reallly warm.
And what kills me is, people BUY into this. They buy those stupid sweaters that you have to wear a tank top under, because otherwise, you'd be wearing a bunch of sewn-together holes. Actually, you know what, most of the people buying those shirts don't wear anything under them anyway!
I was working a Sox game a few months ago, and it was really cold out one night. It had been cold all day. And this girl comes over to me. She's massacred a perfectly good Red Sox shirt by cutting off the sleeves, cutting off the bottom half, slicing the neck, and fringing the whole thing, then twisting it up in a knot so her entire stomach was visible to all. She was also wearing one of the supershort skirts, where it's cool to have the inside pockets peeking out from the hemline of your skirt. Anyhow, this girl asks me if she can go to her car to get a sweatshirt because she's freezing out there. I suggested she untie the knot in her shirt, but she didn't like that idea. Yeah, why cover up the exposed skin? I'm sure THAT's not the cause of her being cold. So I say okay, fine, whatever, go get your sweatshirt. She comes back five minutes later, and I kid you not, with a see-through mesh "sweatshirt". There was no sweat material anywhere. It was a meshshirt. It wasn't even a shirt! It was like she had taken a net and put it over her head. I asked her if that was really going to make her any warmer. She nodded. "Oh yes," she said, "because the holes trap the cold."
I kid you not.
The thing is, I don't know who to blame. Is it the moron wearing the clothes or the jerks selling them?
I want to do an experiment. I want to become a rich lady, so I have this sick plan. And I mean sick in every sense of the word.
What I'm going to do is, I'm going to open a clothing store.
First, with the clothes, I'm going to take them out of the box, stomp on them several times and dump some ash on them for some authentic dirt and worn-in quality, then I'm going to shrink them and put outrageous price tags on them. I'm going to attach stickers around that look really cool telling people that it's the new thing to have "pre-dirty" and "pre-wrinkled" clothes.
I'm going to have scissors scattered around the store, so that when people come in, they can cut the skirts to as short as they want. They can also snip shirts and pants, add slits and holes, to just enhance the look.
In addition, for extra customer satisfaction, I'm going to have a place where I will iron-on any saying you want. There will be copies of literature and famous quotes from bigamists so that the customers can find their favorite insult. A list of stereotypes will be readily availble for clerks to put on the shirts.
And, I have a new plan for those "everyone loves" shirts. To make life simple, and let's face it, to make it more accurate, I'm going to make shirts that say "Everyone Loves a Girl" and "Everyone Loves a Boy" shirt. Because you know, I think they've about covered it. Here's how I look at it: Everyone Loves an Italian Girl + Everyone Loves an Irish Girl + Everyone Loves a Jewish Girl + Everyone Loves a Catholic Girl + Everyone Loves a German Girl = Everyone Loves a Girl* (In that equation Girl = Boy; they're interchangeable.)
People are taking this tshirt craze too seriously. My friend has one of those "Blondes Do It Better" shirts. So one day, I decided to wear it. I don't have blonde hair, which was the point, but soooo many people looked at me like I was a freak. And that's when I realized that there really are two types of people in this world: People who will think that is funny and People who need this guide to life.
Here's another thing I love. Going into Warren, you have to swipe your card. So one friend's card doesn't swipe. Friend 1: "Ahhhh! His card doesn't swipe!" Friend 2: "Oh no, what are we going to do?!" Friend 3: "We better stand right here in front of all of the other card swipers to figure out this problem rather than move to the side so others can get in. If my friend can't get in, NOBODY can!" Friend 4: Good idea. Wait, actually, let's block the escalator out of Warren too!"
Or, waiting for the elevator. Moron 1: "Hold the elevator! John's coming!" Moron 2: "Ok!" Moron 3: "Hey, what's your name? What floor are you on? Are you a freshman? Are you on an all girls floor? You want to hang out?" Moron 4: "Where's John coming from, anyhow?" Moron 1: "West Campus, but he'll be here in like fifteen minutes, but I told him I'd wait for him, and we're supposed to go the gym together then to lunch together then to dinner together then to the shower together, so I have to wait for him." Moron 2: "Oh, great! That sounds great. Can I come too? Wait, let me call Moron 5 and tell him we're going to be a little late, okay?" Moron 2 on the phone, shouting: "I might lose you! I'm getting in an elevator! I'm in Warren. What? What? Wait, I'm losing you... wait, wait... hello? HELLO? HELLO? HELLO? HELLO? Wait, are you still there? Moron 5, are you there? Moron 5? Mor? Shit, I guess I lost him. Oh wait, Wait.. Moron 5?"
Here is an unwritten commandment in life: Thou shalt not hold actual class on the first day of the semester.
It's really there, I swear.
Professors should, at the very most, hand out a syllabus and read it over. The class should take approximately twenty minutes - tops! - if you have to fill out one of those index cards.
There is nothing worse than having actual instruction on your first day. There are signs that instruction is coming. For instance, a professor gives out a handout. That's a sign right there that you're going to be in that room for the whole classtime. That's pretty much a boldprint, italic, underlined indicator that doom is approaching. If the professor places papers on a podium, that's another bad sign. Podiums, in general, are bad signs.
Aside from that commandment, the other unspoken rule is: Thou Shalt End Class On Time.
Class does not end at 12:51. It does not end at 12:50:30. It ends at 12:50. Or 12:49, or any time before then. If the clock reads 12:50, you best be shutting up. I cannot take it when a professor clears his throat at 12:50 and begins a comment. It's that act - the BEGINNING of a comment - that kills me. It means that we're there at least until 12:52. At least. Or when he'll call on another student at 12:49. He's clearly not getting the point. Although in that case, I want to kill the student as well. There's no comment so good that it can't wait until next class, and anybody who thinks that he should keep the entire class an extra ten seconds just to hear his comment is a pompous loser.
Also, some tips for Dining Hall Etiquette:
I know you're entitled to eat anything and everything after swiping in once for a meal, but I really have to say, I get pretty ticked when I see a guy in line for a sandwich, holding a tray with a burrito, slice of pizza, two burgers, plus an entree. I'm not even joking. Dude, you've had your food for the freakin week. Get out of the line!
Or, the people who are standing in line and make it impossible for you to walk across it with a tray. I love these people. They think you're trying to cut them in line. Right. Like I want a burrito on my way to the conveyor belt. That's a good deduction there, Sherlock.
And how about the people who leave the booths a mess? Maybe they think I like the ambience of eating next to half-empty (shut up, this is a pessimstic entry) glasses of orange juice mixed with soda mixed with milk that you concocted at your last meal. Realllly. Yu-um.
In general, there are some more guidelines to life, that do not have to do with Warren Towers or Boston University:
- Jimmy Buffett fans should be fined. All of them. Just because.
- Where it says "no smoking," it means "no smoking." The sign doesn't say "Three puffs tops," or "Smoke Until Someone Threatens You." People are morons.
- If you don't have $1.37 on you in cash, you don't need that gum that badly.
And:
- Never attempt to do a 1000 piece puzzle unless you know you're going to be sick for four or five days and you don't have the internet, cable, a phoneline, or electricity.
Obviously, there are tons of rules that I cannot think of at the moment. Maybe I'll add them later. I'm open to suggestions though. So by all means, if you have a good rule, send it along.
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