Today marked the end of my favorite time of the year
(no, not steak and a blowjob day): Cornell Days. And as I found myself pulling
overenthusiastic completely bullshit lies out of my ass to please the shining
new faces of the Class of 2015 and their parents, I thought, “fuck, I’m old.” I
also remembered that I needed to pay my taxes, but that’s another story I’ll
save for when I’m PMSing and 9 glasses of red wine deep on a Friday night and I’m passed out alone on my couch because none of my slutty skirts would fit my
bloated ass.

 

Every day I wake up and I trick myself into thinking
that I found another gray hair, or crow’s feet ““ maybe a laugh line or two. Or
three (probably because I’m the only one that ever laughs at my jokes). Truth
be told, I have no idea where time went these past few years, and I’m in no way
shape or form ready to wear power suits every day for the rest of my life – not
only because they’re unflattering but also because the only one I ever bought
is sitting in my closet wrinkled and I’m too lazy to iron it let alone learn
how use an iron at all (I am a terrible excuse for a woman). All this time
having panic attacks about the real world has given me all but five minutes to
reflect upon my years at Cornell so far, and everything I wish I had known
before I came to Shithaca and sold my soul to Uncle Ezra and the cult I know
fondly as my sorority. Class of 2015, if you’re reading this, listen closely
(also if you are a male and at least 18 years of age please call me):

 

1) Break up
with your significant other as soon as possible
- Chances are, you don’t
actually love them, you were just excited you finally had someone to bang on a
consistent basis and eliminate the awkwardness of doing it for the first
time.  When you get to college, you
will realize that there are about 13,000 other horny undergraduates who will
think you’re the sexiest motherfucker on the face of the earth after a few
Keystones, and you should take advantage of this. Only don’t abuse your
privileges, because you’ll just wind up on CollegeACB. Come to think of it,
forget about having a boyfriend or girlfriend at any point during the next 4
years. Think of all the ass you’ll be missing, and realize that there is so much potential in
store for you and your shitty extra long twin bed with Buzz Lightyear sheets.

 

2) Never
refuse a booty call
– **THIS IS FOR MALES ONLY** Honestly, pussy is pussy.
Don’t be picky. Also learn how to identify where the clitoris is, because 87%
of Cornell men haven’t figured it out yet. You could be the first! GIRLS, pick
and choose your booty calls or else you’re just gonna be another ho wobbling up
College Ave on Sunday morning in your cheap heels like a newborn deer who can’t
quite figure out how to use its legs yet.

 

3) Go to the
gym. Seriously. GO.
““ The freshman 15 is a sad fucking reality. If you sit
on your ass all day and you think your average dinner is a nutella covered
waffle covered in buffalo chicken pizza and egg rolls, you need to either a)
start looking into liposuction early or b) duct tape your mouth. Don’t even get
me started on the beer calories you will accumulate faster than you can say
“Bear Sampler.” Fact of the matter is if you don’t take a little time out each
day to get yo fitness on (doesn’t matter how you do it wink wink) and
understand that you might as well be directly injecting lard into your body,
then I promise you that when you come home for Thanksgiving your friends will
not want be seen with you anymore. Trust me on this one.  

 

4) Under no
circumstances should you drink Montezuma brand tequila
  ““ I’m not going to elaborate on this
one. Just don’t do it. Keep your dignity intact and your vomit off the streets
of Collegetown (as well as your formal date).   

 

5) Make
friends with as many wealthy people as possible
““ You go to Cornell. There
are people walking among you that have trust funds larger than your family’s
and your entire neighborhood’s worth. What does this mean? It means they have a
house in the Hamptons, a house in Palm Beach, a house in Aspen…maybe throw in
a couple yachts here and there…anywhere there’s an excess of salmon colored
shorts with whales embroidered on “em then you know that’s where you want to
be. Actually, I could care less about where I am as long as I have a 40 and a
cheeseburger in front of me, but that’s just me. You, however, should take
advantage of what’s out there so that if you wind up turning out to be a
complete fuck-up you can always call one of your college buddies and ask them
if they’ve deported any of their help recently so that you can coincidentally
step in and clean their toilets for the rest of your life (whattup hotelies).

 

6) Nobody
gives a shit about what you did in high school
““ All of us kissed ass to get in here, now do you really think we
want make small talk about it at parties?  The only thing on people’s minds is either Dinosaurs and Sluts
or how they can make themselves appear preoccupied and popular by whipping our
their phones and pretending to text someone else who is probably in the same
room. Thus is the extent of the average Cornellian’s Friday night brain
capacity. Don’t fuck with it. Just focus on who’s crotch is grinding against
you and pray that they’re not ugly in the daylight (or that they don’t get a
boner, in which case you’ll want to make an appointment at Gannett
immediately).

 

7) Enjoy it ““
I’m going to go on some serious depression meds when I leave this place because
I feel like I’m on cloud 9 here. I pass out at 3, wake up at 10, go out to eat
and do it again just like that stupid Asher Roth song because it’s true. I
don’t want to study, I just want to party and bang slampieces on top of the
clocktower and find true love in the form of the perfect pizza bagel sandwich
and sacrifice virgins on the Arts Quad and make fun of townies at Pixel. Sooner or
later you’re gonna be in your cap and gown trying not to focus on how three
quarters of your graduating class can’t speak English and how you should have
gone to Penn State. However, you’ll know it was worth it.

 

So now that I’ve got my nostalgic crap out of the way
and will now cry myself to sleep at night with my eyes wide open cause I’m too
hyped up on adderall to shut my eyelids, I genuinely wish you the best four
years of your life here. And I’m not kidding when I say that all freshmen boys
are welcome to sext me at any time when you feel homesick and miss your cougar
of a mother. You’re always welcome to seek comfort in my bosom (and I really
hope I don’t get arrested for pedophilia after this article gets posted). 

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