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Elias Account \ Higher Education, and Much, Much Higher Inebriation
Late into the night, as the stars begin to brightly light up the Maine campus
on which I reside, the call of the college student, a booming “Dude,
I’m so wasted,” can be heard off in the distance. As if it were
an instinctual response another college student immediately responds with,
“Dude, so am I,” and in order to complete this chorus of undeserved
bragging the high-pitched voice of a young girl with a loose set of morals,
and an even loser set of private parts, will yell, “Oh my god, I’m
so fucking drunk, too.” Not surprisingly, alcohol plays a major role
in the lives of many, if not all, college students, and also not surprisingly,
alcohol makes for a great many stories of stupidity.
I recently decided to attend a college party, and on my way to the party
I was stopped by an intoxicated, beautiful, one might even say, intoxicatingly
beautiful girl who asked me for directions to party I was planning on attending.
I told her that I was at that moment on my way there, and kindly, with a
carefully placed kiss to her hand, and a flick of my smooth, black cane,
offered to escort her there in my horse drawn chariot...actually I rudely
told her that she could follow me if she wanted, but if she didn’t keep
up or passed out I was going to leave her alcohol filled body in the middle
of the campus, open for anyone who so wished to take advantage of her. I
didn’t worry about how she would react to this statement since she was
to drunk to react in any way except vomiting or dying alcohol poisoning.
After the 45 second walk to the party, she turned to me and slurred
“Thanks, William,” at which point, I realized that I had been lucky
enough to met one of the few people stupid, or drunken, enough to forget
my name in less than a minute.
I soon realized that if you like sitting in the corner of a hot, overcrowded
dorm room, slowly sipping stale, cheap beer while numerous people loudly
talk about the most trivial of topics or sloppily make out, yet conveniently
ignore your presence the entire time, then college parties are for you.
Because I have a severe case of Alzheimer’s disease, the next night
when I was invited to a party and dance, I eagerly accepted the invitation.
The only thing I gained from the dance, besides soreness in my eyes caused
by the flashing lights, was the realization that college dances and Nazi
concentration camps have much more in common than I previously thought: both
involve many people packed into small rooms (drunken people crowded into
a well-polished gymnasium, or Jewish people crowded into a dirty boxcar);
in both there is one person controlling all the other people (the DJ, or
the SS officer); both involve objects which emit gaseous substances (the
fake, colorful fog from fog machines, or Zyclon-B from shower heads); lastly,
in both situations the people involved are incredibly nervous (nervous about
getting laid, or nervous about dying). Upon realizing the similarity between
these two places, I also realized that were one to ask me which I would rather
be at, I would have to think about it for quite a long time, but I’m
sure that eventually I’d come to the correct answer...which, of course,
is the concentration camp. The most unusual story occurred just last night.
I was quietly sitting in my dorm, minding my own business, looking at hardcore
internet porn, and booting some black tar heroin, when in stormed three other
college freshmen. Without any words of greeting or explanation, they laid
upon my roommates bed and started talking to his friends and family members
via AIM. Ten minutes later they abruptly left, still failing to explain their
actions. I then did some more black tar heroin...actually, in order to ease
confusion, I did a whole hell of a lot more black tar heroin. Although I
have not participated in any alcohol-induced stupidity, I can not claim that
I haven’t participated in any just plain old lack-of-brain-cells stupidity.
Even though throwing water balloons at drunken upperclassmen from the window
in my dorm was quite stupid, the thoughts I had while on my backpacking
orientation trip were far stupider and far more entertaining. As I was walking
through the middle of the Maine woods, an amazing picture appeared in my
mind. In the picture Steve Erwin, the Crocodile Hunter, wearing his usual
far too short khaki outfit and kneeling in front of a gorgeous, naked blonde
woman. His hands and arms were arranged in such a way that they displayed
her pussy, and he turned his smiling face in the direction of the viewer,
which in this case was me, and said, “Vagina! The most elusive creature
I’ve ever captured.”
But of all the horridly immature behavior I’ve seen come about as a
result of alcohol, the worst, and most rampant, is vegetarianism. The college
campus is a place filled with vegetarians, and I have realized that the only
possible explanation for such a thing is the massive amounts of alcohol at
college. Why else would anyone decide to no longer partake in the gloriousness
that is eating meat? Except for a Phish concert, the only thing mind-altering
enough to convince one to eat only fruits and vegetables for the rest of
one’s lives is extreme alcoholism. I’ve tried to think of a
constructive, helpful way in which to deal with all the drunken people on
campus and after much pondering I have come to the conclusion that the best
solution is to get really fucking wasted, thus I must now end this article,
find some booze, and proceed to get severely liquored up.
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