Whatup, little dude? Say what?! You made it to college? Man, I remember when you were a pimple-faced freshman straight out of junior high. It's one of the few things I do remember from back in school, if you know what I mean. You know that overwhelming odor of marijuana emanating from the second-floor boy's bathroom? Well, let's just say you have yours truly and six semesters of the Shire's finest pipe weed to thank for that aroma. That restroom was my home away from home. And for a few weeks after I threatened mom's boyfriend with a steak knife, it was my home. What, you think that sweet IROC-Z Camaro drawing carved itself into that stall door? If you do I'll have to start calling you Barbarino from Welcome Back, Kotter, 'cause you're "so confused!"