Introduction to Northern Illinois University.

Greetings freshmen, and welcome to Northern Illinois University. I realize many of you chose this school for its proximity to home, and a good third of you chose it because it is a relatively fair state school. That's good. Great, even. I'm very proud of you and I hope your stay is relaxing, comforting, and "off the chain," as the 'boyz' like to say. But what many of you new to DeKalb and its surrounding areas may not understand yet is that this college is much like any other. And, well, instead of beating around the bush here, I'll fill you in as to why that is, exactly.

1. Posters of the following are fully acceptable:

-Jim Morrison, of "The Doors"
-John Belushi, preferably in a toga or with a sweater reading "COLLEGE." In fact, any scene with Belushi in it from "Animal House" will suffice.
-Any cheap alcohol, beer or otherwise. Coors, Bud and Miller Lite are all acceptable. Extra points for a neon glow sign or something that shines under a black light.
-Anything featuring the school's mascot, team name, or a combination of the two.
-John Lennon in a tank top reading "New York City."
-Your favorite sports team. Plus-five for football, plus-three for baseball, and plus-one for anything else.
-Women in precarious positions. I don't care if they're in the back of a pick-up truck, or posing with an alligator, it's all good here. Bikinis, wet t-shirts, and shiny neon thongs a definite plus.
-The Simpsons and/or Family Guy. Aging cartoon humor never runs dry.
-Stick figures. Whether the figures are showcasing the many different sexual positions one could find themselves in or what not to do around an officer of the law is up to you.
-Anything black light-ready. Bonus if you can score an angry-looking clown or a pair of flaming dice.

2. There is no such thing as the "weekday" in college. Every day around here is another excuse to drink. "Thirsty Thursdays" have paved the way for alliterative weekdays-turned-weekends. What do I mean, exactly? What about "moonshine Mondays"? Sounds pretty tempting, doesn't it? Go to your local frat house and make some of that exploding bathtub booty. Delicious! And Monday is just the start of the week. The day after that is its cousin "tipsy Tuesdays," where the primary objective is to get tipsy! Creative, ain't it? And considering Wednesday is already "hump day," I think dubbing it "wobbly Wednesday" is all but fitting. What you are wobbling and who at is completely in your own hands - literally.

3. Hug your lungs. Seriously. Because after a year or two in any college town, you're going to need to dust the suckers off, free them from their black, sooty casing. Smoking is a big deal around here. If you don't smoke, start. If you do smoke, smoke more. And if you're already a pack-a-day kind of guy, well, I heard there's some pretty good deals on cartons down at the Citgo. And if you're a "square" dude like me who is absolutely appalled by the stuff, never, ever leave your bedroom because you will live to regret it. As soon as you leave your residence hall, smoke will be blown in your eyes, nose, mouth, and every other hole above your belt line. I understand that it's frustrating and all that the bars are starting to ban smoking, but is revolting by sitting *right* in front of the doors where I enter completely necessary? Can you maybe blow it in a fellow smoker's face? I'm not trying to upset anyone's precious feelings, but I don't want to hold my breath every time I walk inside of a building. So, let's fix that, okay?

4. College football tickets are free, yes, but I am petitioning to those of you who know nothing about football to deny your free entry. Today was the home opener for Northern, and they faced the Ohio Bobcats. I fully understand that football games are a time for everyone to get drunk before noon and be with their friends and hoot and holler as obnoxiously as humanly possible, but let's save us all some trouble here. Never have I encountered a more detestable group of people in my entire life. Some girls asked their jock boyfriends, "why is he running backwards?" Others, "why don't they just give [Garrett] Wolfe the ball, then we'll win." Ignorance. He runs backwards because he is avoiding a tackle. They don't give Wolfe the ball because they are down by 11 and it is illogical to run the ball (and the clock) with a deficit such as that. I don't like sitting amongst a crowd of people who don't know a place-kicker from a place mat. I'd rather sit in a stadium composed of 14 fans than a packed house of drunken, ignorant morons who are there to add to the beer breath stench that haunts the stadium and take photos for their facebook. See, I took photos for facebook at the game too, but I at least watched the game.

5. Pettiness is godliness. When it comes to arguments in college, the pettier, the better. Do you call your soft drinks 'soda' or 'pop'? Or are you a tricky son of a bitch and combine the two with 'soda pop'? Do you follow the Cubs or the White Sox? Do you drink Busch or Bud? The answer to every question, as you may have guessed, is "who the fuck cares?" A hefty portion of this college do, apparently. All over facebook are groups devoted what you call your beverage, what sports team you obsess over, what color hair the bitch you banged last night had, and everything else. So honestly, allow me to restate: who the fuck cares?

6. Dave Matthews' second name is Jesus Christ. In college, you come to appreciate music. You listen to it when you are doing homework, you listen to it when you're on the number 7 bus, you listen to it to piss off your roommates who absolutely cannot stand the Three Six Mafia. But hey, I dare you to go room-to-room in your residence hall or apartment complex and check everyone's library. And if you don't find at least a handful of songs by Dave Matthews, the Dave Matthews Band, or all his other side-projects, then you have found a person lacking a soul. Eek. I sort of am in that bracket, truth be told. And boy, I feel super duper guilty for not having 16 versions of "Ants Marching," including two studio versions, three acoustic versions, nine live versions, and two versions where Boyd Tinsley has the bow to his violin so firmly wedged up Dave's ass, it gives the guy an actual reason to sing like a drunk pussy. Just keep in mind that Dave Matthews is the son of God or something.

7. People are easily impressed. Last week was the first week of classes, and on that Monday, it rained. Every street I walked down had at least a handful of boys and girls prattling amongst themselves that "it's raining!!" What the Christ? Does it, you know, like, EVER rain in the midwest? Are rain and winds akin to the outlying areas of Chicago? Well shit, I guess not because "it's raining!!" Another thing is that people really like to announce is when they are drunk as if we couldn't tell by their horrendous breath or the glossy look in their eyes. "Dude, I am sooo wasted right now!" Yep. You are. You're gone, man, and I doubt you're ever going to return to your normal, soberific state. Or how about, "we were so drunk last night!!" I wonder if the people who get drunk more than they remain sober wake up and say "man, I was sooo sober last night!" when they actually don't drink. Easily. Impressed.

8. Don't get used to your things. If you're expecting your room and the stuff in it to remain exactly perfect just as the day you brought it here, you might as well go home right now. Chances are, when your roommate is disabling the smoke detector with the door half-open, some random busybody will stroll down the hall and notice to himself "Ooh! Pringles! Great fucking Scot, Pringles! Grab grab grab." And then before you know it, you're down half a can of the mustache man. It just happens, there's really no way around it. My first week here, I was out about three Gatorades and several bottles of water. Because apparently the refrigerator is a public domain, and thus, whatever goes in it is as much mine as it is theirs. So what I did was open up the remaining Gatorades in my possession, spit in them, and put them right back where they were. I figure that if you're not good enough to ask me for something that's mine, you're not good enough to know that I blow loogies in my orange drink. So, sucks to be you.

9. Respect is disrespectful in itself. Every day in class, I am sitting there with my hands gripping my copy of the student-run newspaper, waiting for class to begin just like the three hundred other people in the room. The clock strikes the top of the hour, the professor and his aides walk out and begin class, and some people are still in "pre-class mode." Reading their newspapers, chatting on their phones, texting their friends about how drunk they were the night before or how high they got with the kid who makes a living in the Huskie costume. It's pathetic. I don't care who you are, but the one thing we all have in common is why we're here: to learn. Whether you pay for your own schooling or mom and dad lend a hand or two, money is being spent to learn. Lots of money. A whole lot of spending money. So Jesus, people, make a fucking effort to put down your phones and open a notebook while your professor babbles on for the next 50 minutes. That means shutting off your cell phones so your dick-in-the-ass Ciara ringtone doesn't go off half-way through the lecture. That means putting away the newspaper which you most likely weren't even reading anyways; that's right, I'm talking about you Sudoku-crazed motherfuckers. Fuck you. That also means shut the goddamned fuck up and LISTEN. Stop chatting with the loose neighborhood slut next to you because she sure as balls isn't going to give you a blowjob, and isn't going to give you her notes. So just be respectful and, whoooa Christ! Listen!

10. Niches, man, niches. All about town there are niches. And some are bigger than others. For example, the ratio of people who watch MTV greatly outnumbers the people who watch Freaks and Geeks. The number of people who enjoy the shitty, asshole country and rap music completely engulfs the niche of people who like that weird indie and emo music. That's me, by the way, hi. But what I am ranting about here is the fact that if you like what is popular, you will in turn *be* popular. If you like drinking fag beer to Rascal Flatts or OAR while flipping between Laguna Beach, you're bound to find a slew of people whose interests line up with yours. If you like popping the collar of you A&F shirt as you walk down the street in your flip-flops, you're going to get an ass or two. If chucking beanbags into a little hole and coveting partially-naked women is your deal, then you're probably a little higher on the "facebook friend" ladder than I am. And good riddance. I just wish there was a little bigger audience for people with different musical tastes or television shows. But I guess for every complaint I make, a wish by me goes unheard. Such is life.

11. Pictures are worth a thousand words, and even more in spending money. People in college are camera whores. Camera sluts. They literally dive on the dick of those snapping their shot. Just the other night as I was casually photographing my friends, each and every one of them walked up to me, patted me firmly on the shoulder and said, "Dude, you gotta put these up on facebook! Tag me!" Uh, okay. I guess I just don't comprehend or care about having 560 pictures of myself on the internet, but whatever. The thing that disturbs me a little is that if a picture comes off slightly hokey, the person with the goofy-looking face gathers every fucking person back, forces them into the exact same pose, and demands the man with the camera takes another 12 or 15. "Nooo, no, I look fat in that one, take another!' Fuck you, pal. Fuck you. I am not doing shit. I paid my money for this camera, and I am not risking cracking my lens on your ugly, cock-eyed face. Back of the line. So honestly, why do people care how many pictures of themselves are on this stupid site? This level of perceived popularity is quite disgusting. To anyone reading this, when I approach 100 or so photos, do me a favor and rip my dick off with your bare hands and kick it somewhere. Thanks. Until then I'll be savoring every piss I take and kissing the urinals with firm lips.


So that is it. While we've touched on many subjects, I expect you all as Freshmen to look out for not only yourselves, but for others, okay? Because there is a lot more than 11 things wrong with the general college lifestyle and it is neither my civic duty, nor my calling to list them all for you. So for now, enjoy what is in front of you, God or Buddha bless, and welcome to college.