I’m a senior living in Noyes House. I have a small problem (no, it’s not about my friend group, which I lack). You see, my room looks directly into a room in Cushing, which I didn’t realize was a dormitory until just last semester. Anyway, every night I catch a glimpse of this totally super hot dude undressing. He’s never not naked. So, like, obviously I’m gonna take a peek when I can. Duh. But I feel wrong, dirty. How can I stop my voyeuristic stirrings?
We all feel a carnal pull to flesh, visually and physically. When we’re not getting any, the days grows longer and the world seems a little colder. Banner knows, sweetie. Oh, how he knows. I suggest stripping down in front of a mirror and staring at yourself for hours. What will that solve? Not a damn thing.
The registration period is about to end and I’m only enrolled in one class. Ok, ok, you don’t have to yell at me. I know I should have been meeting with my advisor instead of staying up all night to finish season three of “Friends” on Netflix. My Ross and Rachel feels are too strong. Any tips on how to get into a class that may or may not be closed and is taught by a professor who may or may not detest my soul? Any tips at all will help.
To be a student, you have to take classes. Your only option is to grovel in email form or at the door of your professor’s office. Maybe they like chocolate? Or vodka? Maybe you should take your parents’ hard-earned cash and do something more productive with it: like throw it into a blender and press “cream.”
Banner of Ask,
I come to you, for you are the bearer of all things wise. Valentine’s Day is on the horizon and I need your guidance. What shall I do? I am lonely, Banner, single and unhappy. How can I get a date in time for this yearly celebration of love? When will someone swoon beneath my tender touch? When will I finally meet my true love at last? When will this condom I took out of my student fellow’s door freshman year be put to use?
All the best,
Tender is the Night
Dates grow on trees, so I’m sorry but the Ban Man can’t help you. But you know what? On Valentine’s Day, go treat yourself. That’s right! Do you, ‘cause no one else will. Nab a ticket to “Fifty Shades of Grey” and kick your feet up, smack dab in the center. Feel free to say hello—I’ll be sitting closest to the exit.
Dude. Alright, so here’s the thing—not a big thing, mind you, but thing enough for me to make it a thing. Ok. So, the other day I was talking to my best friend about how much I hate hate hate eating alone in the Deece. It’s like the modern day equivalent of having the Bubonic plague! I mean, right? It’s basically telling everyone around you to back the fuck off. But I’m not diseased, I swear. All my friends have different schedules. Help?
The Larger Side is Vast
Vastly Wasting My Time,
Eating alone ain’t a thing at all, buddy. You should be doing cartwheels! You get a breather in the middle of the day. Just ask Peek-A-Boo what it’s like to eat a meal or three a day alone. Nothing makes his day more. People are tiresome and their shit gets old fast. Trade in the friends for an extra helping of me time.