Survival Facts for Frosh: Listen Up

BY DANIEL K. BILOTTI and VINCENT M. CHIAPPINI

It’s been a big week for all of us. There’s going to be a new president in the White House (who can dance); Bilotti perfected a kick-flip on his Tech Deck (finger skateboard, if you went to private school); Chiappini got a quart of Ben & Jerry’s and sobbed himself to sleep in the shower after dog racing was banned; our cyber-column was censored for several hours; and we began to feel the fallout from allegedly alleging a certain group of girls suffer from a particular health risk. [1] All this leaves us feeling ready to dish out some more advice—so gentlemen, open your Trapper Keepers (and ladies, your Lisa Frank folders) and start taking notes.

Freshmen, don’t follow our freshman year example. Ours was dominated by Pokémon Snap tournaments, (which were surprisingly poorly attended—considering the posters we made). As midterms finish up and you realize you don’t actually have to attend Ec10 lectures, you will have hours of free time that you’ll spend agonizing over what Facebook gift to send to that thick biddy in Straus B. In high school, you mostly spent your time padding your resume by competing in the Tri-Valley Quiz Bowl Tournament, creating a (fake) NGO to bring snorkels and inflatable baby pools to inner-Mongolia, and teaching dyslexic ponies to read Braille (Braille works for that, right?). College, however, should be punctuated with pathetic attempts to pad your social resume. [2]

First off, stop worrying about getting in trouble with your proctor. He is most likely a grad student at the Ed School, and is too busy drafting a Mad Minute or a word search to hear you cracking open that PBR. Also, you really can’t get in trouble for anything at our Ivory Tower. Remember that time Bilotti climbed to the top of Mem Church and started raining down chickwiches on a Justice TF attempting to hold section outside? [3] Neither does the Ad Board.

Once you have overcome being a fancy boy and you’ve decided to board the train to Blackoutville, you’re going to need alcohol. When DAPA says you can have fun without alcohol, remember these are the same idiots who bought countless cans and bottles of “pizza” last year in exchange for forged Pinocchio’s receipts. Believe us: no matter how many kids are snorkeling in Mongolia, you still are neither funny nor interesting enough to draw people to your party without the prospect of a drunken hook-up. So steal an empty bottle of Grey Goose from your rich neighbor’s recycleing bin and pour your prison-inspired, fermented grapefruit juice moonshine into it. Freshman biddies eat that stuff up. [4]

However, if your parties go the way that Prestige and Mobility know they will, you will quickly find yourself stewing in a pot of sausage. At this point you have several options. Invite those tourists taking pictures of the trees in the Canaday courtyard—they must be up to fun stuff if they’ve got those cameras all the time! Simply leave the party for another equally lame event, with the other similarly disappointed partygoers in the Yard, like so many nomads on the Silk Road. You can start frantically calling everyone in your phonebook, assuring them that the party is awesome while secretly hoping your FOP buddies stop rehashing your bout with IBS on Mt. Washington. Finally, there is the nuclear option: pulling the fire alarm and destroying all evidence of your social ineptitude.

[1] 925-818-1072

[2] You are so college right now!

[3] Just like in the brochures!!

[4] Placebo Effect!!!