There are few things more mysterious and built-up than kawledge. You’re going to get drunk, an STD, have some pregnancy scares, perhaps you’ll go to class, but who gives a fuck? YOLO, right?!
Wrong. Fuck YOLO. Fuck it in the face.
Having completed my first year of school at the stereotypical state university as a proud ‘geed’, I’m here to give you the low down on what this great, beer-and-embarrassment-fueled, future-building/ruining machine is all about.
Never Go To The Health Center
I’m a bit of a germaphobe. I get sick a lot. So when I was basically dying last semester, I wandered on down to the health center. “You have a sinus infection”, they said. “72 hours with drugs,” they said.
Bullshit. Two weeks, some of my precious poundage and gallons of mucus later, I was barely alive. Never go to the health center. There’s a witch doctor that lives in College Avenue that will give you a better diagnosis than the pre-med dropouts who work at the Health Center. I’ve heard horror stories about them missing pneumonia and bronchitis. Unless you have a hatchet protruding from your head, they’ll probably spin the Diagnosis Wheel in the backroom and come back with, “Hmm. Yeeeah, looks like you stubbed your toe. Here’s a tourniquet and some Pepto.”
People Suck (Part 2)
Obligatory ‘suck’ joke, sweet bro. You learn to lower your faith in humanity. If it’s not your roommate having loud sex next to you while you sob silently into your pillow, or some random guy punching an innocent sorority girl on the street and then running off, then it’s some creep stalking your girlfriend around Greektown.
Not all people suck. You don’t. I don’t. So it’s just everybody else. Don’t be a bitter old douche like me and you’ll probably be okay. Unless you are stumbling down the street one night and some dude follows you and dumps an orange juice on your head. That’ll probably ruin your innocence. True story.
Oh, and Kony fans? Yeah. You should all be embarrassed. A ball boy at Penn State is more covered than the night on 4/20.
Freshman Fifteen Is An Understatement
Not much to say here. Let’s just say some people I knew in high school look like they ate their roommate. And their entire fraternity. And that “totally hot Pi-Phi”. To quote some dear friends of mine, “Boom, boom, shake. When they walk, it’s an earthquake.”
Brace Yourselves: Loose Women Are Coming
There are some high school kids reading this (okay, there’s probably one high school kid reading this, max) and pumping their fists. But for those of us high-class citizens, prepare to be shocked at the lack of floor-length skirts and well-buttoned blouses. And as soon as the thermometer hits 60, its bikinis in the quad and cut-off shirts with sports bras. Actually. This doesn’t sound too bad.
Uh, I mean. Lilly, if you’re reading this, I don’t approve. I wag my finger. I peer down my spectacles at such behavior.
Attendance Is A Delicate Dance
This depends on whether you want to, you know, get a job in the imminent future. The best way to ensure your absenses go unnoticed, other than being a jabroni and going to class, is to lure your professor into a false sense of trust and respect. Make him think you care about the class, so when you don’t show up for the last month, he’s convinced you’re just sick or curing AIDS or something. Go to class for a few straight weeks, bring him an apple or a ruffie or whatever professors like, and you’re set.
Unless you’re an idiot. Then you need to go to class. Or drop out and start making me buffalo chicken tenders. Stat.