Things that make University fun!

1. Parking – those assholes gouge so deep.
   
   
2. Mature students – Some that I’ve met are really cool, but some are just cocks. You know the type, brings their palm pilot with the fold out keyboard to class, listens to their ipod during breaks or worse calls their spouse, questions the professor because they seem to think they have something to prove or because they’re actually OLDER than the professor. Don’t they realize they look like asses? Just sit and listen like the rest of us.
   
   
3. Prosti-tots – With the introduction of the double cohort, my campus looks like there are constant “tours for grade eights” going on. I miss the days when I could sit out on the Blueberry Hill patio and stare at *ahem* the student body. Now I’m lucky if I catch less than two pokemon backpacks.
   
   
4. 500 dollar course enrolment fee – Yes, I know it goes towards my tuition, but it’s still something I hate. 500 bucks so that they’ll hold my place in the courses that I’ve signed up for. What is that? Really?
   
   
5. Diploma – I was recently talking to a friend of mine that graduated. She was completely pissed that she had worked so hard for 4 years and all she got was a stupid piece of paper that said absolutely nothing about what she worked for. All it said was, “Faculty of Arts”. She said that it depends on some *stuff* (I really wasn’t paying attention), but mostly it’s a York thing that they don’t put specifically what you studied. I’ll probably just photoshop mine when I get it and have it say, “Super-dooper Smarty Pants”.
   
   
6. Letters from the Dean – I recently got a letter from the dean informing me that I have had an honoured conferred upon me. That honour was that I have achieved a 7.5 grade point average (so far), which places me in “distinguished company”. More specifically, “the top five or six percent of the student body.” Reading that, I thought, “Great, maybe they’ll give me something.” Read read read… Bottom of the letter… “Again, please accept my warmest congratulations on having achieved this distinction and my best wishes for your continued successes.”A nice warm handshakes. Great. Talk about giving someone the “low soft one”. Would’ve preferred a break in my tuition.
   
   
7. Rez students –They’re always so happy and stylish at the beginning of the year. Then they turn into cows come winter session.
   
   
8. Chatters – People who stop in the middle of door ways to have long, drawn out conversations with long lost buddies. Move it off to the side dicks.
   
   
9. Park-anywhere-parkers – I love it how people think that when they put their hazards on their cars are now enclosed in a magical, impenetrable force field.
   
   
10. Participation vultures – Everyone wants to be nice, even me sometimes. But sometimes people ask really stupid questions. I don’t mind the asking of a stupid question, but I will roll my eyes and think, “geez, that’s stupid” what I mind is when people drag out a stupid question, then continue in the same vein to pick at the carcass because they think they’re getting participation marks.

As you may or may not have noticed, I used "fun" in the title sarcastically.

Froster

As some of you may or may not know, I live on a farm. If you don’t know, now you do. Living on a farm has its up sides and down sides. Ups include naked backyard fun, pissing on the driveway after a long night/morning of drinking, and never having to see your neighbours unless you see their house is on fire (you’d think this a rare occurrence, but it’s happened twice.) The down side, while they don’t topple the up sides, are (in no particular order since they're all pretty shitty): shovelling shit in the hot hot sun, 5 full tanks worth of grass cutting per sessions, and no cable. Then there are those neutral issues. Since there is no city water up here we have a well. Not one of those bucket-n-rope deals, it’s basically a small hole 40-ft deep, with a whole bunch of pipe that leads into the house and a jet pump that sucks up water like a kid drinking milk through a crazy-straw. The water is amazing, clean clean clean. But last week we didn’t have water for a week. Well problems. Result: I smelled like a horse.

Since father and I are handymen, we decided we’d give it a go and try to fix it. Problems: we didn’t know where the well was, the town plans were vague, and we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing. To remedy the first problem I went online to search for metal detectors. I figured that was the best way to go. Luckily I found this guy in Scarborough that rented them out. On my way back from dropping off the equipment we rented, I had this hankering for something thirst quenching and old school: A Slushy. I was sticky, hot, and thirsty. What better way to put out that fire? (NOTE: the rest of this post has absolutely nothing to do with farm living, the intro just got out of hand)

So I get to the nearest Max Milk Convenience store and head for the slushy (They call them Frosters?) machine and I see this huge poster for their new flavour campaign. “BLOODY ZIT FROSTER” I stared at it, turned my head, and thought:

Who the fuck wants to eat that?

As if that weren’t bad enough, on the counter between the slushy machine and some outdated arcade fighting game there were individually packaged, free “flavour enhancements”. I read each of the packages: dried scabs, puss powder, oily blackheads and flesh-eating bacteria. Who thought of this? It must’ve been a bunch of old guys whose balls haven’t seen action since Miami Vice was hot shit. All that expired baby-batter must be jamming up the synapses. I can just see where these new flavours are leading.

Flavour Enhancement: Candy Corn Bits

Flavour Enhancement: Sour Lemon Concentrated “Spooge”

Flavour Enhancement: Super Sweet Yeast Balls

Flavour Enhancement: Black Liquorice Toe Nails

Flavour Enhancement: Cherry flavoured blood clots

Flavour Enhancement: Popeye Cigarette “Bone Fragments”