My defining college moment will probably be that time two weeks when I was rushed to the hospital in Texas during a national speech tournament for what I thought was a heart attack but was actually an overwhelming rush of “lady-feelings,” or a severe “anxiety attack” as the doctors called it.

I puked a little bit on my pants when I was there and didn’t tell the doctors and they had the courtesy to also ignore it. I think that’s what doctor-patient confidentiality really is.

This guy that’s in my dorm room right now with my roommate is talking about how he’ll be a doctor one day. He just shotgunned a Natty Lite. Maybe a brain surgeon, he said!

So adorable of him. I mean, his parents pay for $30,000 of his undergraduate tuition a year. Yes, please open my head one day. 

Fuck that noise.

For the niche market that enjoys S&M but doesn’t want to spend the $500 on a prostitute: why not try a dental hygienist? For $120, you can have someone slip into some tight latex gloves, poke inside your mouth with metal instruments, stretch out your lips, fuck-up your gums, gag you with their fingers, and then verbally abuse you. And the police never get involved! 

I shit you not: one of my cats farts in self-defense. 

I know I’ve been home for a while because my profanity filter is now fully functioning. Just a few minutes ago I pulled a glass from the cupboard, but it looked like it had some gunk in the bottom, so I used the lights we have under the cupboards to get a better view. Next moment, the area above my eye meets full-on with the side of the metal range hood—I don’t say “eyebrow” because that makes it sound like oh I hit my eyebrow and now it hurts! which isn’t what I’m going for—and the thing that came out of my mouth was Oooh that hurts! and not the more appropriate FUUUUUUUUUCK that I would usually produce. God wins this round I guess.

On a very unfunny note: I was browsing through reddit, and I was lead to the Salvation Army website, wherein they outline the organization’s stance on homosexuality, that “…same-sex relationships which are genitally expressed are unacceptable.” 

Excuse me, what??? Genitally expressed? 

This is my new favorite thing.

Genital expressions.

Smiling from cheek to cheek, so to speak. 

Apparently it’s socially acceptable—some would go as far as say cute—for my goddamn cat to sleep all day and eat endlessly and not do any school work. Right now he’s sleeping by the fireplace, on top of a Christmas present bag. But it’s weird for me to do the same. Sleep all day: lazy. Eat too much: fatty. Put off homework: wasting my tuition. Sleeping on the Christmas presents? Well then I’m an all-around annoyance. 

I wish I were being a bit more genuinely ironic, but holy fuck, that cat has everything that I want. Fuck that cat. Fuck everything about him. 

I hate my cat. 

I’m finally getting around to mentioning the 20 dollars I found on the ground a few days ago. 

So, earlier this week I was walking over to the fine arts building here at Creighton—excuse me for a moment, I’m listening to Robyn’s Fembot also my roommate just took off his pants, so I’m kind of distracted at the moment!—anyway, I was walking up to the fine arts building and see something on the ground. Cut to me bending down, picking up a 20 dollar bill off the snowy parking lot cement. Oh, the music stopped. I was just listening to that line in Fembot when Robyn says: initiating slut mode; all space cadets on deck! and it always make me go ughhhhhh yeahhhhh.

Fuck! Back to the money. I picked up the money, and fuck everything about my psychology class. The first thing I did was look around for a graduate student with a clipboard that would tell me that I was a part of his study on middle-class greed and then I’d see the 20 dollars was actually made of construction paper and then he’d spit in my mouth. But no grad student, the 20 dollars was real—and mine now!—and no spit in my mouth! 

The story of how I found 20 dollars on the ground then later found out I had a 25 dollar parking ticket and I guess God isn’t real after all!

There’s a silly girl in my English Composition class that everyone loves! Here is a sample of a typical exchange between her and our professor. Try to contain yourself!

PROFESSOR: For Tuesday, please bring an analysis of your two favorite and two least favorite scenes from today’s reading.

SILLY GIRL: What if we don’t have two least favorite scenes? What if we loved it all? I mean, who can blame me?! You pick such great literature! Hahaha! 

PROFESSOR: It’s assigned because of the course? What? No. Pick two scenes that you didn’t like. 

SILLY GIRL: Oh, hahahahaha, okay! I can’t wait for class on Tuesday! This is my favorite class!

PROFESSOR: No.

Naturally, the rest of the class loves her *so* much and so should you!

THERE IS AN ASIAN MAN ON CAMPUS CHASING AROUND SQUIRRELS WITH A PLASTIC WALMART BAG GOD DOES ANSWER PRAYERS THANK YOU GOD FOR YOUR GIFTS THIS DAY AMEN