James Curtis, PhD.
Dept. of Humanities

Dear Prof. Curtis,

It has come to my attention that your English 212 course, "Mark Twain and the American Spirit," has been filled for the Fall 2008 semester. Unfortunately, I require your class in order to graduate before the Spring, and (through NO fault of my own) failed to register in time. Would it be possible to fit me in at this point? As a father of 3 soon-to-be high school graduates, I'm sure you can understand the seriousness of this situation.

I understand the necessity of strict deadlines in a busy college system. However, failure to graduate by May would force me to enroll in a summer course and move into an off-campus apartment, such as old Ms. Garrett's basement room on 330 Hibiscus Lane. While this room would of course be less than the mortgage you pay on your house on that very same street, you can respect the financial strain high rents would place on a part-time student -- even one without three lovely daughters to raise. And protect.

 Boy: Wow, I can't believe summer is almost over.  It went by so fast.

Girl: I know, as much as I like to complain about my hometown, I'll miss living in a house with a fully-functional toilet and eating non-diarrhea causing food.

Boy: Totally.  It will be so refreshing to get back to my annoying college friends and not hang out in your parent's basement everyday.  But seriously, even though we go to different schools and are 7 hours apart, I really think we can keep this relationship going for the first two weeks of college.

Girl: I totally agree.  Spending time with you this summer has been soooooo convenient, and I just know that after I sleep with that cute guy from my history class that our relationship will be reduced to awkward instant messenger conversations.

Boy: But we'll say that we'll keep in touch right?

Girl: Absolutely.  I promise to call every weekend, tanked out of my mind, and leave sobbing voice messages saying how we should get back together.  You have my word.

Boy: That's why I loved you for no more than three months baby.  I am already looking forward to coming to your school in October and drunkenly making a lot of mistakes that I will deeply regret.  I won't even care that you somehow gained 15 pounds in a matter of weeks.  That's how desperate I'll be.

Girl: I am already looking forward to Thanksgiving break, where you'll completely ignore me at the party that we both show up at.  I promise that I'll totally fly off the handle when I see you making out with my soon-to-be ex-best friend Tiffany.

Boy: I can tell that we are starting a rift that will separate us for the rest of our lives.

Girl: Oh, I don't even want to talk about it anymore; hold me for the next two weeks.

We've had some pretty sick nasty office pranks around the CollegeHumor offices over the years, so we thought we'd share a select few gems from the archives. If you feel like you can upstage us, well go to hell, then send yours to MyOfficePranks@GMail.com.

When one of the developers, Amir, went to lunch we took a label maker and labeled everything on his desk - his pencils, his keyboard buttons, his mouse.  We also labeled every piece of paper in his printer as "Paper". We also coverered Streeter's entire desk area in little cups of water when he was out of the office. That'll teach people to leave.
Sarah and Team, Editorial


On my birthday a bunch of people duct taped me to my chair, put me in the elevator and sent me down to the lobby.
Nick, Development

I took this bartending class with two people from work (who live together) and we were supposed to get our certificates 2 weeks after the final if we passed. I got mine a day early so I decided to scan the acceptance letter into Photoshop and change it to a rejection letter, then, with the help of his roommate supplying me with a mailbox key, went to his apartment, opened the manilla envelope on the bottom, took out the replaced the certificate with the rejection letter then used double sided tape to seal it back up.
Rosie, Editorial