This story is about Elias’ first week at college.
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.