The inventor of dormitories . . . lets find him, make him pay for the

travesties hes visited on Americas youth, and force him to listen to



Matchbox 20. Cant you see him designing these hellish stacks of



humanity many years ago? From the sidewalk he raised his hands



triumphantly and said, It shall be like the projects with less violence



and more marijuana! He then took lumber and Elmers Paste, as it is



often called, to create these pet carrier sized rooms that we live in.



You wanna know why people from the projects hardly ever go to college?



Its because they dont want to leave their lush surroundings.



The actual term dormitory is of course derived from the Latin term



for sleep, which is appropriate because that is all you have space to



do. You have to do it standing up in the bathroom sink but it can be



done. The luckier students have space to scratch their asses but the



windows have to be open and their roommates have to be gone for the



weekend. When you go home the closets even feel like a gymnasium, and



you can romp around in the bathroom like a horny antelope.





I cant imagine the kids who brought everything they own to the



dorm. I brought like a condom and a sock. Next semester I hope to have a



towel and the other sock. I also need a new condom. Forget



having space to sleep. Who sleeps anyway? Nobody on my campus.



I think its a rule. This one kid tried but no one knows what happened



to him. Lets just say his floormates never saw him awake again. I feel



like Im a member of the national insomnia coalition. 0ur agenda



involves a lot of Frappacino and staring at the test pattern on tv. Its



like this strange pseudo-vampire lifestyle. Did you know that if you



stay up late enough they play the Tonight Show over again and it still



isnt funny? No sleep really fucks with your eating habits too. Every



night at 2 in the morning you get as hungry as a Bosnian and you have to



go to the vending machine to watch the one bagel spin in the carousel of



salmonella.





People have White Zombie playing until 5 AM, which to me really



encompasses my mood at 5AM. I could be listening to Kenny G and it



would seem hardcore at 5 in the morning. It doesnt matter because you



still cant get an open clothes drier minutes before sunrise. Theres



like this one chick whose always tying up an entire drier with like one



pair of panties. I let it slide because it gives me an opportunity to



watch hypnotically tumbling panties. The worst is when she turns out to



be morbidly obese and you have to vomit in your laundry basket. Not that



the dryers work anyway. I could fart on my laundry and get it drier than



the converted toaster ovens that the university supplies. Dry jeans?



Forget about it. I had to convert mine to a deep-sea wet suit.





So what if you want to leave the dorm?Get ready for a chore.



Youll need keys, ID, bag, books, a map, an umbrella, sun glasses,



insulin, a snake bite kit, mace, a pack mule, and an Algonquin Indian



translator (Miami students you know what thats all about). Then you



have to go walking through the building kissing the asses of all the



dweebs you live with and holding the door for anyone in the same county.



Whats with the door holding policy? Like opening a door requires a



spotter. If youve got arms, a coordinated foot, or useful nub, open



your own God damn door.



>>>>>>



No matter where you go you have to use these gerbil-on-a-wheel



elevators. I could climb up the side of the building with a corpse tied



to my johnson in less time than it takes for the door to close. Then you



have to fucking march for miles from your dorm which is conveniently



placed on fucking opposite side of the campus from any building that is



fucking remotely important.



People on rollerblades I accept, people on bikes I have urges to



clothesline but tolerate, but people on skateboards have a value just



below medically retarded nazis. It must be explained to them that



skateboards were cool when we were 11 and even then they werent that



cool.





Where are you headed? Probably to get something to eat at the



dining hall. The only dish they havent fucked up is Lucky Charms. I



think the university supplies them with a blender and unlimited horse



meat mixed with some retired circus animals. The key to making the menu



fresh and exciting is the food coloring. The charming and buck-toothed



lunch ladies proudly announce, Yesterday we had chicken nuggets and



today we present to you blue chicken chunks that are totally unrelated



to the nugget dish we served you just yesterday. We are serious, they



have nothing to do with each other. I stake my hair net on it. You can



have extra blue in yours. And the ladies (who really seem to love livin



in the exciting scooping career) refuse to serve more than what fits on



a toothpick. You cant just ask for a large portion, you have to ask for



more than the offensive line could consume this semester. Then you get



a second blue nugget. Remember how excited the potato bar got you the



first week? Now the potato bar makes you homicidal. (What are bacon



flavored bits madeof?)



Then you get to come home to your room. Mine is called a suite,



which is a pretty cruel manipulation of the English language. I get to



spend time with the closet case that the boarding office apparently



found compatible with me. Hes like Chewbaccas considerably less



attractive estranged midget cousin. A wookie also has better control of



the English language. My roommate is another rant all together. Most



people get one of two kinds of roommates, the one who sharpens knives



while he watches you sleep (mine), and the one who asks you what its



like to go outside (also mine). My suite mates next door live an



intensely Rastafarian lifestyle. In an attempt to put Cheech and Chong



to shame, their bong is a centerpiece of the room that they clean with



wadded textbook pages. They smoke to Bob Marley at 3AM on Wednesday



nights which is a little too hardcore but you have to love their



dedication to the sport.



End your dorm day by hopping in the shower. Its as big as a



tupperware container. It has 3 temperatures, fucking hot, really fucking



hot, and nuclear. Whenever somebody flushes a toilet on the campus the



temperature goes to skin removal levels and I go blind for a few



minutes. I swear it is connected to every toilet. My brother flushed the



toilet at home last week and I called him to tell him to be a little



more considerate. The bathroom is as clean as any fast food restaurant



urinal cake and after the average college student cleans the shitter



with a bottle of Vodka its as clean as any bus station. Ive given up



on cleaning the bathroom and Im disinfecting myself. A quick spray down



with Lysol Direct and my body is fresh and repellant to several



bacteria.



Bottom line. Turn up the music and try to get high off the fumes



coming from under the bathroom door because they never share. The



best days of your life will be over soon.