Uh…what was this article supposed to be about? Oh yeah, Christmas ornaments. Right.

Christmas ornaments are one of those weird traditions that nobody is really sure why they do, like eating turkey on Thanksgiving, getting drunk on St. Patrick’s Day, or shoplifting on Easter (other people do this, right? I can’t be the only one).

People tend to reflect a part of themselves in the Christmas ornaments they choose; the owners of the ones below most likely fall somewhere on a scale between completely awesome to batshit fucking insane.

Here are the 25 Best (and Worst) Christmas Ornaments of All Time, according to me. I’ll let you be the judge on which is which.

Images courtesy of ebay.com, http://blog.seremeres.com, http://mike-is-bored.blogspot.com,

etsy.com, http://www.luulla.com, http://cdn.trendhunterstatic.com,

http://1.bp.blogspot.com, http://inventorspot.com, huffingtonpost.com,

http://www.artlebedev.com, http://gremlindog.com, weburbanist.com,

decodir.com, http://everythingsewingforum.net, http://i612.photobucket.com,

http://www.ar15.com, http://hotinkreviews.blogspot.com, http://unrealitymag.com,

windingroad.com, http://rack.2.mshcdn.com

The post The 25 Best (and Worst) Christmas Ornaments of All Time appeared first on The Campus Companion.

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We’ve all been there. You need to get to the grocery store, laundromat, possibly even your drug dealer’s house, but you don’t have a car. Well, I’m here to tell you that just because you don’t have wheels doesn’t mean you can’t get around—you’ve just got to be clever about it. Here are ten quick and dirty tips for getting around without a whip.

10. Ride a Bike:

Duh.

9. Put a Freaking Motorcycle Engine on Your Bike

Everyone whose ever ridden a bike knows how much pedaling up a steep hill sucks. But what if you didn’t have to? Well, thanks to scientific advancements in the field of wildly unsafe transportation, you can now attach a freaking motorcycle engine to your boring old bicycle. Golden Eagle Bike Engines will sell you everything you need to mount a gas-powered engine on your bike, for the low, low price of $650. Yeah, it might not the most economical option for getting around, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t the most badass.

This man gets more ass than a toilet seat at Chipotle.

8. Take Up Longboarding

Longboarding is a great way to commute while looking like a boss, provided you don’t suck at it. If you do, you’ll just be hurting and embarrassing yourself. Should you choose to ride a longboard, do the world a favor and don’t be a dick about it: try not to weave between cars in traffic, and let cars behind you pass if there’s a suitable bike lane to ride in. Don’t give the rest of us a bad name; we know where you live.

7. Befriend People With Cars

Wait a second, would I really advocate making friends with someone for the sole purpose of mooching free rides? Of course I would. A friend with weed is a friend indeed, but a friend with a car is…better. So make nice, and remember the old adage: Gas, grass, or ass; nobody rides for free.

Except for the guy with the gun. He rides for free.

6. Join a Car Share Program

Car shares are a nice middle ground between having and not having a car, and will let you get the feel of being behind the wheel again without having to carjack some helpless old lady. Zipcar is one of the most popular options, with outlets in 15 cities. If your city isn’t on the list, don’t despair. There is most likely a car share program available to you (provided you don’t live in the middle of the desert or at the bottom of the sea.)

5. Ride a Segway

One of the most economical and ridiculous looking means of personal transportation, the Segway is a great way to get around if you don’t mind looking like a complete jackass. Just try not to ride yours off a cliff, like (no shit) the former owner of the entire Segway corporation.

4. Search Craigslist

Craigslist can be a great resource for finding rides to and from places, if you aren’t too picky about whom you’ll be travelling with. It’s especially useful when there’s an event such as a concert or festival going on, and a lot of people from your area are going. Of course there is a small possibility that you could get murdered by a crazed psychopath using Craigslist to lure in victims, but that’s an issue that you were probably going to have to face sooner or later anyway.

C’mon, this guy looks legit.

3. Ride a Rascal

Who says Rascal scooters are only for the elderly/morbidly obese? Last I checked, there were no qualifications required to own a Rascal, only a love for cup holders and a strong dislike for anything involving physical movement.

God, I love this country.

2. Take the Damn Bus

What, you’re too good to ride the bus? Listen here: just because public buses are cramped and sweaty and smell a bit like urine doesn’t mean you should discount them. Most college towns have some sort of a deal with the local public transit authority; in my city, I can ride a bus for free as long as I have my student ID. Yes, you heard me, I said free. If that word doesn’t immediately make you start yipping and shaking your ass around like an excited puppy, you probably haven’t been in college for very long.

1. Just Walk, You Lazy Bastard

It’s not like you couldn’t use the exercise anyway.

Pictures courtesy of http://www.megaton-suntan.com, http://www.popularmechanics.com, http://farm4.static.flickr.com, http://www.massachusettscriminaldefenseattorneyblog.com, http://images.mylot.com

The post “Can I Bum a Ride?” How to Deal With Not Having a Car In College appeared first on The Campus Companion.

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As the sands of time fall through the hourglass grain by grain, and my own graduation draws ever nearer, I find myself reminiscing more and more about this crazy experience we call college. I think about the good times, the bad times—I even try (usually unsuccessfully) to remember the drunk times. And as I think back on these past four years, I can’t help but notice that the greatest times I had often happened spontaneously, instead of things I consciously planned. In fact, some of the things I did were, in a word…overrated.

Here are the five most overrated things I did in college.

Took Up Longboarding:

Burlington, Vermont, the city (and I use the term very loosely, it’s more like a glorified town) in which I go to college, is completely overrun by longboarders. Whether it’s because the entire city is essentially one giant hill, because it’s full of pot smoking hippies, or because of some funny third reason I can’t be bothered to come up with, it’s impossible to walk down a Burlington street on a sunny day afternoon without having to dodge some jackass zooming down the sidewalk on a plank of wood.

When I was but a naïve freshman in this city, I envied these titans of the sidewalk. I too wanted to carve and slide my way through busy intersections, throwing caution to the wind for a taste of that sweet steeze they so happily dined upon. So I bought myself a shitty longboard, with rusted trucks and oblong wheels. It didn’t last; I broke it on my third day of skating.

Undeterred, I vowed that I wouldn’t go the cheap route on my next board, and $300 later I had a pretty sweet setup.  Unfortunately, I soon learned that no matter how much money you sink into your longboard, it’s still going to hurt just the same when you fall off it and onto the pavement at 30 miles per hour. Several hundred dollars, a sprained ankle, a concussion, a broken shoulder, and countless scrapes and bruises later, I can safely say that longboarding simply wasn’t worth it in the long run for me. The enjoyment that I did get never compared to the physical pain of reconstructive surgery, or the emotional pain of falling and looking like a jackass in front of pretty girls.

Went to a Toga Party:

Holy shit, my naïve sophomore mind thought, a toga party! This is gonna be just like Animal House!

SPOILER ALERT: It wasn’t like Animal House. No, in fact it was the exact opposite: there was no mayhem, no “TOGA! TOGA! TOGA!” chants, and definitely no John Belushi pulling cheeky pranks. Instead, it was just a tired old party. The fact that everyone was wearing togas was entirely incidental.

The toga party is not simply a costume party, like the redneck or ugly sweater party. No, there is a certain decorum one expects from a toga party; it is not enough just to have people wearing togas. There must be wild feats of drinking for one, as well as ancient Greek philosophy and fresh grapes. Blasting dubstep in a sweaty basement simply won’t do, as I unfortunately learned.

Grew a Mustache:

Behold, the centerpiece of any new college student’s transformation into the land of higher learning: the mustache. A mustache can be as unique as the one who wears it, and is a highly sought after commodity among college males.

As soon as I could grow one (sometime around sophomore year, when puberty decided to stop procrastinating and just be done already), I did. However, nobody ever told me that just because you can grow a mustache doesn’t mean you should.

My mustache was a special breed unto itself: pencil thin, with whiskers half an inch in length that pointed straight out from my upper lip, standing on end as if they had just seen a ghost in one of those old timey cartoons. Strangely it didn’t even match the color of the rest of my hair, being a full shade lighter than even the hair on my chinny-chin-chin. At best my mustache made me look unkempt, like a struggling genius who cannot bother to take a shower in the morning (or at least that’s what I liked to think).  At worst, I looked like the creepy guy that everyone used to avoid eye contact with in the bleachers of little league baseball games.

Did a Keg Stand:

For the uninitiated, a keg stand is when a (typically very drunk) person is lifted by their feet high in the air, while they hold onto a keg for dear life and drink for as long as they can. I cannot specifically remember the night in which I did my first keg stand, because at the time I was drunker than a middle-aged woman after half a bottle of wine.  However, I do remember that when it came to selecting people to hoist my body up, I chose unwisely.

Being that I tip the scales at about 250 lbs, it was probably a poor decision to select the only two friends of mine whose combined weight doesn’t even surpass mine to hold me up. But then again, I was shithammered. From here my memory gets a bit hazy, though through piecing together the different testimonies of several witnesses, I now know more or less what went down: Apparently my spotters immediately began to wobble under my weight as soon as they lifted me up, in turn causing me to pitch headfirst into the drywall directly behind the keg, in turn causing my head to go halfway through the wall itself, in turn leaving a gigantic freaking head-shaped hole in the wall. In the end, I found out that I’m terrible at keg stands, but I make for a pretty fucking good battering ram.

Projectile Vomited in Public:

It was Halloween of 2009, my first Halloween as a college student. I was dressed in a stereotypical Mexican outfit, complete with poncho and sombrero. It was 4 AM, and as I was stumbling down the street, making my merry way to a friend’s house, the perfect storm of beer and tequila was brewing in my stomach.

Now I had thrown up before (many times in fact), but never with the force that I did on that particular night. It came without warning, without notice. One second I was but a mere commoner, simply trying not to trip over myself—the next I was a fine artist, delicately painting the streets orange with acidic chunks of half-digested food.

I confess that I am still haunted by the screams of the young women who were walking just ten feet behind me. There was no time to warn them of what lay in their path, no time to even stop moving. I managed to utter a guttural “I’m sorry!” as one of them slipped and very nearly fell in the monumental puddle of sick. Oh, how that would’ve positively ruined her slutty cat costume.

The post The Most Overrated Things I Did In College: A Retrospective appeared first on The Campus Companion.

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Look at him sitting there, just asking for it.

These responsibilities (and if you don’t know what that word means, look it up, freshmen) often dictate the transformation of the average RA, typically into one or more of the four categories listed below. We all know an RA or two, hell, some of us even were RAs, and so the purpose of this article is not (only) to make fun of them. No, the purpose of this article us is to understand the creature that is the dormitory RA, so that we may better co-exist with them. This is The 4 Types of RA’s.

The Narc:

Hey man, the Narc just like, wants to be your friend, you know? This special brand of RA will be your best friend exactly until the moment he/she spots an empty beer sitting on your ugly wooden dresser (that every dorm in America has, for some stupid reason), at which point he/she will turn on your naïve freshman ass faster than Usain Bolt on steroids. And meth. That’s fucking fast.

“Hey guys, what if we painted our dressers just a little bit darker, you know, for a little variety?”                     
                                                                                            “GET THE FUCK OUT.”

 By nature, the Narc RAs are passive-aggressive beings. Don’t expect them to give you some contrived lecture on why drinking a beer on a Tuesday night while watching reruns of Entourage is a dangerous or irresponsible activity, that’s for the High and Mighty RA (which we’ll get to in a minute).  The Narc RA much prefers to call campus police from the comfort of their own dorm room, safe from the awkwardness of actually doing the deed right in front of you. Five minutes later, while you’re watching  Vince cavort around with porn stars and realizing that holy shit, your life is like, exactly like the show (minus all the money/women and with more weed smoking), your arch nemesis , the nefarious Officer Mallcop comes busting through your door, ready to fuck up your night.

Campus Police: keeping the ludicrously impractical golf cart industry alive since 1952. Why 1952? I don’t know. I needed a way to finish that joke. Fuck you.

At this point, all you have to look forward to is awkwardly avoiding eye contact with the Narc RA  in the hallways for the rest of the year. 

The Apathetic

The Apathetic RA just doesn’t give a shit. Maybe he/she is burdened by work, since he/she isn’t a freshman anymore and can no longer get away with Jagerbombs before breakfast every day. Maybe he/she just needs the stipend from being an RA to stay in school, and can’t be bothered to police the dorm like a good little Nazi. Either way, the Apathetic RA would like nothing more than to not be bothered by your drunken antics, which is a pretty fair trade. Stay on the good side of the Apathetic RA, and maybe they’ll let you get away with stinking up the entire floor because you forgot to towel the doors like a damn rookie.

Warning: Does not prevent against stoned dumbasses waking the entire dorm up with an obnoxious rendition of Don’t Stop Believin’ at 2 AM.

The High and Mighty

Behold, the High and Mighty RA is the sole ruler of his/her vast domain, stretching all the way from Room 301 to Room 308 on the 3^rd floor, after the vending machines but before the elevator. The High and Mighty RA wants you to know that this is the college’s dorm, and that he/she is divinely appointed by the college to make sure that there’s no drinking, smoking, loud music, or anything else that would upset your grandparents going on.

There’s no one scarier to have knocking on your door at 11:30 on a Friday night than the High and Mighty RA. At this point you might as well say your prayers and clear your schedule, because in a matter of seconds you’re going to be subjected to the smarmiest and most condescending lecture on how this dorm like, belongs to the college, man, and you’re not at home anymore so it’s not cool to just, like, have a beer out in the open like that, man.

The Best Bro

Cool as a cucumber, the Best Bro is undoubtedly the best RA to have, but carries with him/her  the biggest risk,  as he/she can turn into any of the above three RA’s at a moment’s notice. For the most part, the Best Bro RA will actively avoid getting you in trouble, as long as you aren’t a dick like Kevin. Kevin is a dick.

Believe it or not, the Best Bro RA is just like you. He/she understands what it’s like living in a new and exciting atmosphere, and wants you to enjoy the most of it. Unlike the Narc or the High and Mighty RA, the Best Bro has a shred of actual human decency, and won’t call the campus fuzz on you for blasting Afroman at 10:00pm on a Saturday.

Maybe the Best Bro RA will even purchase alcohol for your underaged ass, provided you don’t go telling everyone who you got it from. Maybe not. If you’re not sure if your RA qualifies as a Best Bro, just ask them how they feel about it. The tone of their response (and whether or not they call Officer Mallcop straight away) should indicate exactly what kind they are.

Images courtesy of www.guidofistpump.com, http://img.groundspeak.com, 

http://admissions.naz.edu, http://www.stores.uconn.edu, http://www.thecampussocialite.com

The post The 4 Types Of RAs That Exist In College appeared first on The Campus Companion.

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Thanksgiving is almost here. Imagine: at this very moment, millions of turkeys nationwide are happily going about their business—pecking at shit, or whatever turkeys do for fun—completely unaware that in just two short weeks, they’ll be the centerpiece of an extremely awkward and dysfunctional family dinner (during which everyone will pretend to be grateful for something they take for granted every single day, because apparently we need a holiday dedicated entirely to being thankful in order to get us to actually be thankful, or at least pretend to be).

So, what kinds of foods will you be eating this Thanksgiving, or as I like to call it: Patriotic-Football-Turkey Murder-Remember That One Time We Totally Stole That Whole Country From The Natives-Day? I know what I’ll be eating, or rather what I won’t be eating, because it’s a fact that not all Thanksgiving foods are made equal. Just like that time your kindergarten teacher told you that all the kids in the class were unique and special in their own way, the truth is that some are just plain better than others.

This is the Official Thanksgiving Food Power Rankings 2012. Let’s get down to business.

1. STUFFING

Coming in at the number one spot is that delicious mix of wet bread and celery and…other shit that everyone loves more than a red state loves Jesus (and Nascar). You know it’s good because its name tells you exactly how you’re supposed to eat it. If you still need its number one status justified to you, then I’m very sorry that due to horrible birth defects you were apparently born without a mouth or a brain.

2. CRANBERRY SAUCE FROM A MOTHERFUCKING CAN

Oh shit, batten down the hatches (whatever the fuck that means), because shit’s about to get all controversial up in this bitch. Some people (and I use the term real fuckin’ loosely here) dislike, or even hate cranberry sauce—we call these people “mentally ill,” or “violently insane.”

Cranberry sauce is…is…well, it just plain is. End of story. It’s almost jelly and not quite Jell-O, in the same way that you’re not a girl, not yet an extremely mannish woman. However, let me be clear about this: any kind of cranberry sauce that didn’t come from a can is unacceptable. If I can’t see the dent in the side of the gelatinous loaf from when you dropped the can off the shelf at the supermarket and then felt too guilty to put it back, I don’t want it.

3. GRAVY

Good gravy! That’s right, bitches. Gravy gets its own spot, because gravy is more of a man than you are. Is your meat too dry? Stuffing too bland? Gravy don’t care. Gravy will bust right up in your mouth and ravage your taste buds in a whirl of passion and ecstasy, then leave before they wake up and never call them again. Gravy rolls deep like that. Best recognize.

4. MASHED POTATOES

What is the best vegetable on earth? This isn’t a rhetorical question; there is only one right answer, and it’s the potato. Search your heart; you know it to be true.

If you don’t like mashed potatoes…well shit, who am I kidding? Everyone loves mashed potatoes. Even that asshole you know who hates everything probably loves mashed potatoes. It’s so creamy…and salty…and white…just like clam chowder (pervert). It’s so good that as soon as you see it, you’ll just want it to positively explode in your mouth/all over your face/in your hair.

5. TURKEY

Coming in at number five is everyone’s favorite once-a-year meal, the belle of the ball, the life of the party, the one everyone came to see: turkey.

“Why so low?” you might ask, to which I would respond with “HOW DARE YOU QUESTION MY LOGIC, PEASANT?!” After smashing anything and everything in the immediate vicinity, I would eventually tire myself out, at which point I would calmly explain that while turkey is undisputedly the iconic Thanksgiving food, there are several factors that keep it from attaining the number one spot.

For one, everyone thinks they know the best way to cook a turkey, and 90% of them are wrong. Deep fried is the only way to go, and anything else is unacceptable. A proper deep fried turkey has the potential to be much higher on this list, but sadly it seems that deep fried turkey aficionados such as myself are in the minority.

Secondly, although turkey is the centerpiece of any Thanksgiving meal, everyone knows that the side dishes are really where it’s at. Turkey is safe and familiar, and will always be there for us when we need it. The real fun of Thanksgiving comes from going rogue—maybe getting a little frisky with a questionable pie, or giving Auntie Ethel’s zucchini casserole yet another “last chance” (SPOILER ALERT: you’re going to be disappointed, again).

6. PUMPKIN PIE

Oh shit, I bet you haven’t even thought about pumpkins since Halloween, when I told you how to make kegs out of them. Well guess what? Now that we’re all done drinking out of them, we’re going to fucking eat them, and it’s going to be glorious.

Pumpkin pie is representative of all that’s right with the world. Its flavor is reminiscent of those early fall days, back when we were young and innocent and full of bliss, unaware of how fucked up the world around us was/still is. Savor the memory, because those days are gone and aren’t ever coming back. Enjoy hearing about aging white men’s politics and shitty Canadian pop stars for the rest of your life, like a true American.

7. CORN

It’s corn. Whatever.

8. GREEN BEAN CASSEROLE

Never has the guttural expression “meh” been more appropriate than when referring to green bean casserole. It is certainly food, and that’s about the most I can say for it, so…that’s all I will say. Eat it, or don’t, I guess. It probably won’t kill you. Hopefully.

9. BREAD ROLLS

What the fuck are you even doing on my table, bread rolls? What, do you expect me to take a break from eating all this delicious food to nibble on a tasteless piece of fucking flour and yeast? But Mike, you’ll say, put butter on me! I taste better with butter! No, bread rolls, you only taste like fucking butter when I put butter on you, which is hardly an improvement. But you can dip me in things, I’m like an edible spoon! No again, bread rolls, like the sugar stick in a packet of Fun Dip or every bass player ever, you just provide the backdrop for things that are better than you. Now leave me alone, everyone at the table is starting to give me funny looks,  as if they’ve never seen a grown man talking down to a piece of bread before.

10. SWEET POTATO PIE

Who the fuck keeps making this shit and trying to sneak it in with the rest of my Thanksgiving foods? If it’s you Auntie Ethel, I swear to God I’ll disown you and your cats forever. I mean it.

God, this shit is disgusting. In one fell swoop, sweet potato pie manages to ruin both sweet potatoes and marshmallows, the latter of which is so impossible to ruin that you’ll eat it while it’s burnt to a crisp attached to a fucking stick.

The absolute worst part of sweet potato pie is that it makes little kids who have never had sweet potatoes before hate them. I did not discover the wonder that is sweet potato fries until just one year ago, because I could not remove the memory of the foul slop that is sweet potato pie from my delicate mind. And I can’t be the only one plagued by memories of gooey orange despair; so please, think of the children. Don’t ever cook sweet potato pie, and if you didn’t listen to me and already have cooked this monstrosity, please dispose of it appropriately (with a fucking atom bomb) before it can ruin any more young, impressionable minds.

Images courtesy of http://img4-1.myrecipes.timeinc.net, http://www.wired.com, http://www.instructables.com, 

http://www.reluctantgourmet.com, http://www.perdue.com, http://blogs.phoenixnewtimes.com,  

http://hempbeach.com, http://img.21food.com, http://1.bp.blogspot.com, en.wikipedia.org, delish.com

The post Official Thanksgiving Food Power Rankings 2012 appeared first on The Campus Companion.

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Studying is for chumps. Here’s what the cool kids do when they’re forced to spend time in the campus torture dungeon/library.

1. Build a Book Fort

Use the heavier encyclopedias for the foundation, and floppy paperbacks for the arched entryway. Then defend your book fort to the death against any and all invaders, including librarians and campus police.

Who knew books could be so much fun?

2. Appoint Yourself Librarian-In-Training

Toss on a pair of glasses and stalk around the library, scolding anyone who makes even the slightest noise and ironically being louder than they ever were in doing so. If an actual librarian happens to see this, ask him or her if you did well and if this means they’re going to bring you up to the big leagues.

Beneath all that sex appeal, she’s really just a girl with a passion for the Dewey Decimal System.

3. Represent your political views by rearranging the books in the Fiction and Nonfiction sections.

Dislike evolution? Believe that JFK never actually existed? Now’s your chance to show the world just how batshit crazy you are.

“I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is yes: we do drink our own bodily fluids to stay alive. It’s the only way to keep the fluoride in the water from turning us into reptilians.”

 4. Play “The Ground is Lava” with all the furniture.

If you get trapped, remember that you can always use books as stepping stones to get from one place to another. Also, those long tables with the little green lamps on them make excellent jumping and landing strips.

This woman is smiling because she was prepared. How will you react when the ground suddenly turns to lava?

5.  Make a book safe and stash your valuables.

This one will require a little time and privacy, as the local library Gestapo won’t be too pleased if they catch you carving open Economics 101. Make sure you’re at least going to stash guns, drugs, or alcohol in your book safe. Otherwise, what’s the point?

“What’s the big deal? This is just for my car keys.”

6. Impress chicks by pretending to read a really artsy book.

Bonus points if you’re wearing a pair of hard-rimmed glasses and/or a fedora.

“How could she just walk by me and pretend like she’s not interested? Doesn’t she know I’m reading Dostoyevsky?”

7. Practice the art of miming.

Preferably right behind people who are studying, because if there’s one thing that busy people love, it’s mimes who aren’t afraid to invade their personal space.

“Ow…my balls…” is what Jerry would’ve said, if he wasn’t a fucking mime.

8. Scoff indignantly at how mainstream the Rare Books section is getting.

Ugh,Ancient Greek poetry? Renaissance literature? What am I going to find next, fucking Twilight?

I don’t really have any joke about Twilight that hasn’t already been said, but this girly-haired man looks like he wants to eat my face, so there’s that.

9. Print out the Bible.

No seriously, print out the entire Bible. Christian Freebies has an entirely open print Bible that you can print for free from any computer, thoroughly pissing off anyone running late who just needs to print out a page or two. If you really want to freak people out, type up a little note on the front page that says: “Hey there. Thought you might want to check this out, you know, before the accident. See you soon! – J.C.”

Is what they’ll say.

10.   Force awkward conversations by deliberately reaching for a book at the exact same time as  someone else.

Then try to out-polite them when they offer to let you have it, escalating into a full-on war of “No, you take it” versus “No really, it’s fine, you take it.” Let this go on for a minute or so, and then in your deepest and creepiest voice, growl “Take the fucking book.” Congratulations! You’re well on your way to becoming a psychopath.

Kind of like this, if you replaced the dogs with people and the innocent puppy love with crippling social anxiety.

11.   Pretend you’re a used book salesman and try to sell the library its own books back at an inflated price.

But first, make sure you look the part. Sunglasses and a snappy plaid suit jacket are a must.  Then get a handful of books, bring ‘em to the front counter, and claim that they “Fell off the back of a truck,” and that you’ll “give yous guys a real copacetic price for ‘em.” If that doesn’t work, try to subtly imply that something bad will happen to their kneecaps if they refuse.

“Tell you what, if you buy the book right now, I promise my cousin Dom will let you pick which leg he shatters with a baseball bat.” 

Photos courtesy of :

• http://static.thedartmouth.com
•  http://tucsoncitizen.com
•  http://www.eonline.com
•  http://dkoeker.files.wordpress.com
•  http://prettynpink246.files.wordpress.com
•  http://www.tundracomics.com
•  http://s1.favim.com
•  lainsomnia.blogspot.com.

The post 11 Things To Do In The Campus Library That Aren’t Studying appeared first on The Campus Companion.

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2. Library Etiquette 101: The 10 Commandments
3. Pillows are for Losers: Seven Places to Pass Out on a College Campus

…There, that wasn’t as painful as I thought it was going to be. Just a precaution, in case I get killed before I can finish this post. Now let me fill you in on my current situation:

It’s dark. I’m crouched in my closet, trying to be as quiet as possible. I’m typing this at a rate of one quiet, agonizingly slow button press per minute. I’ve been here for seven and a half hours.

I’ve got the brightness on my computer screen turned way down low. I’m scared. And a little hungry.

You see it turns out that there’s a pretty solid chance that my new roommate is actually some kind of serial killer. (He also happens to eat all my fucking cereal every time I buy a new box; not that that’s related, but seriously, what the fuck man? Get your own Crispy Hexagons.)

The cereal that says “I’m gonna fail this pop quiz because I can’t afford a goddamn Geometry tutor.”

I really have nobody to blame but myself for this. If I’d have just paid attention to him long enough to see the signs, I could’ve just moved out and avoided this entire situation. But no, I just had to spend every waking hour trying to resurrect my childhood yo-yo skills, and now I’m probably going to die.

I was going to include some yo-yo-related joke underneath this picture, but the more I look at it the more it creeps me the fuck out, so let’s just move on.

As what is likely to be the last act in my short and insipid life, I would like to help you, my dear reader, so that you may never find yourself hiding out in a dark closet with a really bad itch on the bottom of your ass that you can’t quite reach without repositioning yourself but you’re too scared to move because you think you might make a sound and then get murdered or at least chased around for an hour and a half until you vanquish the homicidal maniac in a final showdown (complete with dramatic monologues and kitschy one-liners) or something like that.

So, before I peer cautiously through the slits in my closet door and see nothing at first but then come face-to-face with an extreme close up of one of the killer’s eyes and then duck down just in time as a knife stabs through the door and the music gets really dramatic and shit, let me tell you about the 10 telltale signs that your roommate might be a fucking lunatic. Because knowledge is power (or is it “knowing is half the battle?” Fuck…maybe ”sharing is caring?”…um…“Don’t trust Whitey?” Yeah, we’ll go with that).

10. Zero Wall Coverage

Does your roommate prefer a sparse environment, with no posters, paintings, flags, or random junk on the walls? This could be an indicative of one of two things: either they’re a soulless psychopath who is too busy killing and/or mutilating people to have a sense of interior decorating, or they’re a fresh out of prison psychopath who didn’t have enough time to buy any sweet band posters (because they’re too busy killing and/or mutilating people).  Either way, remember that an empty wall signifies an empty soul. Beware.

 9. Aversion to Light

There’s no such thing as vampires. There are, however, such things as paranoid schizophrenics who believethey’re vampires. They can usually be identified by their pale skin, deeply recessed eyes, and calloused thumbs from hours spent playing video games in the dark. And not even good video games. Weird games that only creepy bastards enjoy, like The Sims.

They obviously couldn’t be real vampires because you’ve seen them chugging down plates of Garlic wings like a tube-handle-nozzle-fucking-plastic-thingy on a vacuum, but that’s beside the point. Anyway, should it come to the point where you need to protect yourself, remember that stabbing them with a wooden stake would only be as effective as stabbing them with a piece of wood would normally be.

8. Unhealthy Obsession

Beware if your roomie has odd obsessions with odd things, this can be a sign that he or she is not like you and therefore probably wants to kill you. Obsessions with terrible TV shows like The Big Bang Theory or Gleeare a surefire indicator that your roommate is either freaking insane, or a teenage girl. In either case you should run for your life.

7. Fast Food Diet

Watch out if your roommate only seems to eat Big Macs and ranch dressing, this can be a classic sign of detached sociopathy. After all, most people are well aware of the terrible business practices of fast food mega-conglomerates: the way they exploit indigenous peoples for cheap labor, destroy vast tracts of pristine forest for factory farms, etc. Your roommate probably eats fast food because he or she is completely devoid of morals, and derives some sort of sick satisfaction from the horrible way that factory farmed animals are treated. What other reason could there be?

6. Inordinate Amounts of Personal Hygiene

This one can go either way. Maybe they haven’t bathed since Pluto was a planet, or maybe they’re excessively clean germaphobes who’re constantly scrubbing away invisible spiders. Either way, we can all agree: they’re “nucking  futs.” (Thanks to the writers of the one-and-a-half star piece of crap Dickie Roberts for that gem.)

Avoid people who don’t have normal cleaning habits. Actually, first decide what constitutes “normal cleaning habits” in your mind, and then avoid people who fail to meet that standard. That way, if you happen to be a psychopath who defines normal cleaning habits as “shaving all my body hair so the reptilians can’t implant a microchip in it,” you’ll probably just end up avoiding all of us normal people, making our (awesome) lives that much easier.

5. Dodgy Past

When you ask your roommate about their family or their hometown, do they go quiet or quickly change the subject? Do they talk about people in the past tense, as if they aren’t still alive? (i.e. “My mother used to drink water and breathe air…”) Do they constantly make allusions to events that imply violence, but then elaborate no further? (i.e. “She was breathing all my air, so I had to take care of her.”) If so, then congratulations! You’re going to die next.

4. Maniacal Laughter at Odd Times

Sometimes we can’t help laughing at the little things, but this goes beyond just that. For example, does your roommate ever fall into fits of maniacal laughter at odd or seemingly random times? Do they laugh uncontrollably when confronted with the sight of: A. A dead squirrel on the side of the road, B. A jar of mayonnaise, C. A forest fire, or D. An unfunny chick flick about bridesmaids that everyone said was so “raunchy” and “groundbreaking” when in reality it was just a whiny melodrama about friendship thinly veiled behind repetitive vagina jokes and the C-word? If you answered yes to any of these, then your roommate is probably some kind of axe-murdering lunatic building a macabre statue of you out of human body parts. This is absolutely true 100% of the time.

Best recommendation would be to get the hell out of there before he or she needs your head to complete it.

3. “Off” Smells

Has your apartment or dorm room smelled “off” lately? Pay close attention to this. That rotting smell coming from the mini-fridge might be a two-month old slice of pizza, but it might also be a human pancreas. Similarly, did you know that burnt popcorn and burnt brain matter smell almost exactly the same? Always exercise caution when investigating strange smells such as these, lest you end up as one yourself.

2. Stockpiles of Weapons

Have you found any stockpiles of knives, guns, or other weapons in your home or dorm room lately? Perhaps a bloody pair of brass knuckles with little bits of what looks suspiciously like teeth attached to them? Don’t panic, yet. There could be a perfectly normal explanation. Perhaps your roommate is an old-timey fur trapper and needs to keep a fresh supply of sharp knives so he or she can make coonskin caps. Or maybe they simply enjoy hunting deer at 3 AM with an AK-47. Nothing sketchy about that.

What I’m trying to say is keep an eye out, but don’t automatically jump to conclusions if you start finding stockpiles of bloody weapons hidden throughout the house.

1. Blood Stains That Seem to Show Up Out Of Nowhere

Now when I discovered the first pair of bloody handprints on the walls of my roommate’s bedroom, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He said he had been finger-painting, and explained away the knives impaled into the wall as some sort of new-age sculpture. He was very convincing, especially when he told me that he’d slit my throat if I told anyone. I believed him, even though something tasted very off about the meatloaf he made later that night.

But like the saying goes: “Fool me once about your secret identity as a mass-murdering lunatic, shame on you; fool me twice about your secret identity as a mass-murdering lunatic, shame on me.”

The very next day, I came home to find him dragging a particularly heavy trash bag  that seemed to be oozing some sort of reddish mush down the front steps. This time I was especially suspicious, to the point where I even refused to give him a ride to the closest state forest to help him dispose of it. But alas, he just rebutted with the same old “do it or I’ll slit your throat” standby, and I stupidly gave in.

So please, pay attention to these signs before it’s too late. If you have even the slightest inkling of suspicion that your roommate might be a mass-murdering necrophiliac psycho, please tell someone. I didn’t, and look where it got me…

Being trapped in the closet isn’t nearly as glamorous as he made it out to be, but then again, neither is peeing on children.

Images courtesy of punkoryan.com, moremashup.com, and Wikipedia.org. 

The post 10 Signs Your Roommate is Fucking Crazy appeared first on The Campus Companion.

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An anonymous source close to Bennett confirmed that, as a result of his failure to take out the trash (which is totally filled with a thousand of his old Dominos delivery boxes), flies are now all over the goddamn apartment. The nameless source also disclosed that if Bennett doesn’t do anything about his messes in the coming week, there are going to be some serious issues.

The post Local Roommate Still Hasn’t Washed His Dirty-Ass Dishes, Even Though They’ve Been in the Sink for a Whole Friggin’ Week appeared first on The Campus Companion.

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