CollegeHumor: User 502459's Articles

E-Mails to Microsoft

Sat, 07 Apr 2007 11:29:58 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> Dear Microsoft,

Recently I purchased your Windows Vista operating system, and I would just like to inform you that at no time during my usage of this new system did I actually say "Wow"... Oh shoot.� I just did, didn't I? Gosh darn you! You win every time, Bill Gates, you win every time.

We'll see about that.

Brian Schmeck

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:502459"><img src="http://3.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/a/e/collegehumor.e9ec6ada998285dfc786431efd874ee5.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:502459">Mary Kolesnikova</a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 0 likes so far. <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/article:1726267">Be the first!</a> </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

You Know You're A Freshman If Your Facebook Looks Like:

Tue, 03 Apr 2007 00:29:18 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> Dale Abbott added “Drinking” to his interests. 4:36 am

Ben Nimmons wrote on Laura Boyd’s wall. 10:25 am
“Hey, really good seeing you last night. Sorry about your shirt. No I’m not.”

Alexandra Taylor is attending Delta Gamma Gold Pro’s and Country Club Ho’s 2007. 11:28 am

Carl Grishom is back on campus… ladies. 12:18 pm

Mike Owens joined the group Lovin that Sticky Icky- UCSB chapter. 1:48 pm

Josh Crowens joined the group If This Facebook Group Gets 10,000 members I’ll Totally Blow YOUR MOM. 2:27 pm

Riley Kenna added “The DaVinci Code” to her favorite books. 3:01 pm

Amy Blader added “Animal House” to her favorite movies. 3:17 pm

Kyle Nunez added “Grandma’s Boy heh heh” to his favorite movies. 4:20 pm

Tom Campbell added “AquaTeen” to his favorite TV shows. 5:11 pm

Amber Escobar edited Spring Break Plans in her profile. “Going to Daytona with the Dunne Hall 5 Crew!!! Yayayaya! Dunne 5!” 6:33 pm

CaYci BlAkE is gOiNg to CLaRan KaRaoKe and you BITCHEZZ beTTEr Be thURR!!! DoN’t sToP bEliEvI’N!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 10:32 p.m.

Nikki Wasson tagged Elizabeth Stein in six photos. 11:54 pm
Tagged in: “Tits, Ass and DG for Life!”

Jake Vale is 2 in da pink, THREE in da stink, hoes! 1:35 am

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Blog Types

Tue, 03 Apr 2007 00:26:00 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2>
“The Comfy Cozy Blog”

Sample: “Hey guys, welcome to my little home on the Internet, that’s the ‘net for those of you in the know, hehehe. Pull up a chair and I’ll start some tea for you. This is my life. Stop by often, I’ve always got kooky stories, random ramblings and lots of hugs to share!”

Pros: This blog is like an awesome acid flashback to the days of MIDI files and animated GIF domination. You can revisit your own awkward web moments because it’s probably hosted on Geocities. Oh, and you may want to take down that "New" icon next to your picture section. Those scanned photos of you from eighth grade are anything but "fresh." Cool sunglasses though!

Cons: You will have to read about babies, scrapbooking, cats and cats who make scrapbooks about babies.

“Bitter Music Obsession Blog”

Sample: “Did you guys know that Bushwalla’s cover of Hotel Yorba was actually going to be featured on the same album as Cat Power’s I want to Be the Boy White Stripes cover? That’s so ridiculous they might as well have put it on the same album as The Raconteur’s It Ain’t Easy. Yeah, you like that? What about maybe just throwing the whole thing to shit and sticking it on with 5 on the 5 or the White Stripes Moonage Daydream Bowie cover? Idiots. F*ck PitchFork.”

Pros: You feel like you can finally talk to that indie chick that works for the Lit Mag.

Cons: She hasn’t heard of any of this sh*t either.

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What Road Signs Are Really Saying

Tue, 13 Mar 2007 18:34:43 -0400

Or, you know... just roll on by.

Hey, Asians and old people, this is why other drivers hate you.

In some states they call me an HOV Lane! Like, WTF? Teehee.

We here at MADD don't have a life, so we don't want you to have one either.

Just past this sign is where you get your DUI!

Just kidding!

�

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Best Day Ever. Worst Day Ever.

Tue, 06 Mar 2007 12:20:55 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> Best Day Ever-

Message 1: "Hey, baby. I know you're so nervous about today. I'm just at work, thinking of you. No matter what happens I'm going to come home, cook you dinner butt naked, you stallion! Love you!"

Message 2: "Hello there, this is Doctor George! Sorry to have gotten you so worried, but it turns out my glasses were dirty and it wasn't a tumor at all, isn't that funny?"

Worst Day Ever-

Message 3: "Uh. Oh, geez. This is... Doctor George. You know... I went to clean my glasses just now and it was... still there.. um. It's actually the biggest tumor I think I've ever seen. You should... probably come down here."

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News Flash: Cheney's Thrombosis Goes Public

Mon, 05 Mar 2007 20:07:50 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> Dick Cheney’s Left Leg, Washington D.C., USA – Breaking news today as Vice President Dick Cheney’s Deep Venous Thrombosis Engineering Group (DVTEG) goes public with their latest project.

Previously they have launched four heart attacks, ranging from life-threatening to unpleasant, and were solely responsible for the Cheney Aneurism of ’05. With so much success under their belt, the industry was surprised today to hear of their latest endeavor.

“Well, I know a lot of people are saying ‘Four heart attacks? That’s some serious stuff!’ but I’m just not satisfied,” said Cee Lott, the VP of development. “You know me,” she adds, “I’m a perfectionist.”

Industry insiders have been wondering about a new deep venous thrombosis for weeks, taking Cheney’s shortness of breath and general ugliness of the face to be sure signs.

“He’s fine,” the White House Press Secretary kept saying, but since today’s news broke, it is clear that he is not.

“Yeah, we really enjoy that element of surprise around here,” Lott chuckles, sitting back in her chair after a long day of work.

As for future plans, Lott and DVTEG aren’t thinking too far ahead. “This is good for now,” she reports, “besides, I think this one’s gonna be pretty explosive.”

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News Flash � Yes, It Does Make You Look Fat

Mon, 05 Mar 2007 01:25:52 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> The Dressing Room at Macy’s, Anywhere – I’m bringing my journalistic integrity to the biggest unanswered question of all time: Why do only fat chicks ask if they look fat? Does being fat somehow make them think that everybody else is blind? That might be nice, considering they’re in a state of denial about some needed wardrobe upgrades.

“I don’t need to buy new pants because I’m just bloated, I’m starting my period in-“

That’s just fucking gross. We don’t need to hear about you bleeding like, literally, a stuck pig. And besides, bitch, please. If you were “starting your period tomorrow” every time you ate chocolate, you’d be dead from the blood loss.

Don’t you know it’s just not nice to put people in the position of lying to you? Some people are religious and asking them to reassure you at the expense of their immortal souls is a bit much, don’t you think?

Here, let’s try to think of a solution together. First, you’ll need a portable keg. The cheaper the better, you’ll go through a lot of them. Keep everybody around you intoxicated and you’ll magically lose weight. Or, you know, stop pretend menstruating and skip the Krispy Kreme baker’s dozen run for today.

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News Flash - Blogging Isn't a Career

Mon, 05 Mar 2007 01:09:35 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> Your Parent’s Basement, USA – Let me guess. You are sitting in your parent’s basement. I know it’s technically your own apartment because your drunk uncle put a door in, and technically you come and go as you please, but your parents are still walking around above your head, right? Well you know what else they’re doing?

They’re laughing at you. Loudly. You can’t tell because you’re listening to the new Shins and you’re blogging about how great it is. How do I know? Because my grandma blogged about it from beyond the grave. She says that Hitler really digs it. My grandma may have been instrumental in causing the AIDS epidemic, but she’s not stupid. She hates your blog and Hilter thinks you need to punch up the jokes a little bit. Come on. It’s not like you’ve got rent to pay.

In other news, everybody come check out my blog: http://www.livingthequarterlife.com !!!

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The Thing About Hot Drunk Girls...

Sat, 03 Mar 2007 13:55:28 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> You think I'm gonna say something like "They're fucking hot and dripping wet for you." Well, kinda. See, the hotter the drunk girl is, the more insecure she is. She can hide it when she's sober, but when she gets sloppy, all bets are off.

A hot girl is only�hot when she's not talking. When she starts talking, you're in trouble.�Because the drunker they are and the more they talk, the sooner they'll hit upon a subject that makes them cry. Like an ex-boyfriend, or that Twinkie they ate for lunch and just couldn't barf up.

This is the anatomy of a conversation with a hot drunk girl that's straddling the fence:

"WOOOOOOOOOO!" she says at first, "Thiss iz like the best, oh my god, hahahahahahaha, yeah, oh shit, yeah!!!! Jello Shoooooots! CASEY! CAAAAAAAAAAAA-SEY! Come HERE you dumb SLUT! Hahahahahaha. Okay, okay, ready everybody? Okay! Letsh do these SYOTS!"

"Oh HEY KEVIN!!!!!!!" is what she says when she notices you, "Omigod, like holy shit, remember Professor BARFman, hahahahahahaha, in class he was all like 'The quantum theory of *makes fart noise,*' HAHAHA. I can't believe you're HERE! Shit, okay, come here. I just had me some Hyp-no-tickkkkkk and it's so fruuuucking awesome, like off the dizzllle... HAHAHAHA OFF THE DIZZLE!!! CASEY!!! DID YOU HEAR THAT?!?! OFFFFFFF DAAAAAAAA DIZZZZZZZZZZLLLLLEEEE!!!!"

"Kuvin," she says, three shots later, "let's go outside. Pleeeeeeeezzzz. Do you have a cigretteeee? Where thfucks Casey, I know that fucknbitch has some fucken cig.a.rettes... Shit. No, come on. Just let's go, like I gotta talk to you. BLAKE!!!!!! GET ME FUCKENBEER!!!"

Here you think you're gonna score. Well, you're not. At least not until after it gets a whole lot worse.

"Kevdflyn, duuuude. So what the FUCKS up with you? Yeah? That's GREAT. You know... (here she gets a little crack in her voice) Nuthin. Never-well, okay, I just... I juss... doyouthing I'm pretty? (Tears well up in her eyes) Cuzz... shit... stupid, you fucking slud. (Here she may may hit herself lightly) I jush. I dunno. Its jush that CAY-CEY always haz all thishit going for her, yuhknow? She's sooooo pretty."

Fast forward five minutes.

"And thun he wus jussh like I'M SHLEEPING WITH YYOUR�ROOMATE and I wus just like... (Sobbing) Jew know? CUsh I really just fucking, fucking, THAT MUTHERFUCKER!!! I was so fucking in love withat asshole and he just fucking (More sobbing) and its just like my fucking dad was riii-iii-iiight. I'm jsut a fucking paira fucking tits (She grabs her breasts angrily) fu-uuu-uuuuck. Lishen. LISHEN . Kuhvin.. Shid. I'm so redarded for talkingbout thish. Pleesh. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Shhhhhhhhhhh."

Now you can either swoop in valiantly and usher her to her room. If she barfs, personally I would bail, but you have a chance of her making it home intact. Besides, her roomate may be home and you know she's a whore. If you're just a little creeped out about the possible incest she just hinted at, check back inside. Maybe Casey is in better shape. And yeah. she is prettier.

�

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How To Write The Best Paper Ever

Wed, 28 Feb 2007 13:00:18 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> College rules, but the thing about college that's worse than hemmoroids is having to write papers. No sweat, this will help you turn out something that could maybe pass for a decent paper if the teacher suddenly started taking LSD.

If you have one handy, you can even print your paper on an 8.5 x 11 LSD blotter. Really, if you can pull that off, that's the only step you need to take. If all your 8.5 x 11 LSD blotters are already spoken for, read on:

1. Wait until 3 hours before your paper is due. Everybody knows, this is when you get your best paper mojo going. But, you're saying, most papers are due sometime in the morning. Three hours before that is like 6 a.m.! Exactly. That gives you all night to basically get shitfaced, take shrooms and go to Taco Bell. The only other requirement is that you drink six Red Bulls before you start your paper. And no Sugar Free Red Bull, you pussy!

2. Start your paper right. Say your paper was on Charlemagne (he's some Canadian dude, retard), you will need to start your paper with: "My bitch Charlemagne had some big, swingin' balls." This will segue nicely into your discussion of his military strategy, because it takes balls to conquer Canada. What if your paper is on World War II? Still works. "World War II had some big, swingin' balls." Then start your discussion of the Holocaust.

3. It's not content, it's font that counts. Nobody's gonna tell you this, but I'm your homie, so I'll let you in on a little secret. In Teacher School, all your professors have a semester where they become fluent in Wingdings. They'll be so tickled that you're reaching out to them in their own tongue that it's an automatic A. It'll be an A+ if you bold and underline everything.

4. You have to have a classy sign-off. Switch back to that ol' Times New Roman for a second and really land your paper. Everybody knows another word for "conclusion" is "masturbation," and you don't want to jerk off your professor, unless she's smoking hot. So, skip the conclusion and make it simple and classy: "Your welcome for the knowledge, fucktards, stay skeezy!"

Which brings me to my final point. In order to succeed at life, please, please, please remember this tip: "Your" means "you are," and "you're" means "belonging to you." I can't believe how many people get this wrong.

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Where Am I? A Practical Guide

Thu, 22 Feb 2007 14:23:44 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> Every now and then you'll wake up and not know where you are. In fact, you may not remember what you did for much of the previous night, either. Here are some quick tips to help you out.

1. Don't sit up too quickly. You may shake off all the beer cans that your friends have lovingly draped on your passed out body, or you may wake up the hideous, hairy woman (?) slumbering next to you. If you're alone and un-shamed, you still may get the spins, so lay low.

2. Go back to bed. You can't really figure out where you are when your head hurts this bad, maybe if you sleep for a few more hours you'll feel better.

3. Get up and look around. This is important. Here, you will need your best detective skills. Are you outside or inside? Are you in a place that you recognize? Is it a friend's dorm room or are you cruising on a barge in the middle of the harbor? Are you in a hotel? Did you pay for it? Have you killed a hooker? Again?! Check the shower. These are important things.

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The Three Roads to Happiness: Pills, Pills and Pills

Tue, 20 Feb 2007 14:26:10 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> Sorry, that wasn't very specific. What I mean to say was - The Three Roads to Happiness: White Pills, Blue Pills and Red Pills.

I hope that cleared some things up for you. Man. I can't believe I messed that up. But, I am on pills. So maybe that explains some stuff.

The thing is, life is awesome on pills. People talk slower, your extremities feel further away, and naps just last a whole lot longer. Also, you can't be bothered with things like school, talking, or, you know, keeping your eyes open.

What's that? Your hands look like they're changing colors from purple to green and then back again? That's amazing! Give me some of those! I wanna see!

The beauty part is, the kind of pills that make you nap are just one kind of pills! There are pills to make you clean for seventeen hours, pills to make you horny for everything, pills that tell you to walk on rooftops and pills that help you realize that you are Flavor Flav.

Don't take these last pills in predominantly African American neighborhoods, though, if you are a white-ass cracker boy. If you get capped when you're on pills, you'll still be dead when you come off of pills.

So, there you go. Now that you know everything there is to know about pills, go ahead and get some. It's really easy. All you need to do is secure a sawed-off shotgun and take it to your local pharmacy, probably right around closing time.

You can pay the nice pharmacist with some bullets out of the barrel of your shotgun, and then you can just hop over the counter and help yourself. Look for some bottles that sound like they may have pills in them.

Dude, no I'm not. I'm not telling you to go rob a pharmacy. What's the matter with you, man? You need to relax. Geez.

That disembodied voice in my head is really pissing me off. I wonder if there's anything I can take for that. I should go check down at the pharmacy. Besides, I'm running out of some stuff. I wonder if that same pharmacist I gave bullets to last week will be there.

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Britney Conspiracy

Tue, 20 Feb 2007 12:06:36 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2>     According to speculation, Howard K. Stern had been keeping Anna Nicole Smith drugged up 24/7 just to make money off her. I don't know if she had any idea of what she was doing or saying for at least the past five years of her life.
    According to my mom, NASA killed Anna Nicole to take attention off of their crazy diaper-wearin' astronaut lady who claimed she was just having a "friendly chat" with the woman she tried to mace. Okay, mom.
    Well, I have to weigh in with a conspiracy theory of my own, but this time it's about Britney Spears.
    For the last billion years, Lindsay Lohan has been the fucked up Hollywood "it girl," the one everybody was worried about. Celebrity blogs kept a party watch of her, tracking how often she went out, especially after she checked in and out of rehab.
    After quitting rehab, I bet you my firstborn that Lindsay Lohan paid somebody to keep Britney Spears wacked out of her face Howard K. Stern style. Why? To take attention off Linday's failed attempt to stop drinking and doing drugs. Let Britney do it and steal all the negative publicity! Of course!
    If only I could get into a similar agreement with either of them. I'm going in to my boring-ass job and I could really use some methadone.
    "But hey," you say, "Britney was fucked up a long, long time ago. Remember Chaotic, her reality show with Fed-Ex?"
    "You're right," I'd reply, "I do remember Chaotic. In fact, getting ripped and watching Chaotic was some very good times. And please, don't call him 'FedEx,' that's just retarded."
    However, a woman with private jets and tons of drugs is wildly different than a woman with private jets, tons of drugs and two babies.
    Chin up, Britney. Your hair will grow back and your children will be taken away from you and you can start all over again. LIke it never happened at all. Maybe this time, try a woman. They don't impregnate you all the time and I hear you're into lesbians. Maybe you and Lindsay can reconcile, if you know what I mean.

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After-College Land

Fri, 16 Feb 2007 14:12:26 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2>     After-College Land is not a theme park. There are no fuzzy costumed characters. There are no souvenirs, unless you count all your empty bottles of Wellbutrin. Some people breeze right out of college into an awesome job where they can act like frat boys all day long. Some people hit a dizzying downward spiral and stay that way for years.
    Haha! Just kidding! Well, kinda. When some folks graduate from college, they get overwhelmed. They think they have to figure out their entire lives in about two weeks. Jobs, relationships, living situations and, you know, all those student loans.
    This can get a little overwhelming and send people straight off the deep end. No shit. I can't figure out what I'm going to wear today, let alone, you know, what I'll be doing forever and ever.
    Take some pressure off. Yeah, limitless choices are intimidating, but the idea can also be exciting as hell if you take it one step at a time. Figure out a job this month, your living situation next month, and start cruising for bitches the month after that.
    If you rush into something because you're freaked out, you'll hate it and then you'll be back to square one. Get to know yourself first and then you'll make better decisions.
    Like, should I work at this cheese factory? It pays bank. Well, you're deathly allergic to cheese. Maybe you should hold out for something less lethal. Or, should I date this girl? She is always talking about her how often she poops and what it looks like when she does but I'm terrified of being alone. I'd say, skip that one and hold out for a girl that always talks about giving blow jobs, and then follows through.
    In a lot of ways, life after college is like a theme park. There's a lot of screaming and barfing, but when that calms down, there's a lot of running around and a lot of fun. If you're aware of the screaming and barfing, you can choose to avoid it and cut straight to the fun.
    Life after college, just like the rest of life, is all about attitude. So what if you're broke, unemployed and smelling pretty ripe? Life is good stuff. Have a laugh, a beer, and see where that takes you.

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Okay, Okay, I'll Shave My Legs: A Treatise on Valentine's Day

Fri, 16 Feb 2007 02:27:30 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2>     I told my boyfriend not to buy me flowers for Valentine’s Day. Why? Because if he buys me flowers, he won’t be able to afford taking me to Fresh Choice. That’s right. Fresh Choice.
    Fresh Choice because his stupid flowers don’t have unlimited helpings of bread pudding that I can top with unlimited helpings of chocolate ice cream and then sprinkle with limitless toasted coconut shavings. Flowers don’t have that. Fresh Choice has that. (Dear Fresh Choice, I am available for promotional appearances. Thanks.)
    Valentine’s Day is no big deal to me, and yes, I have a vagina and yes, I have boobs to go with it, and yes, they’re huge. I’m one of those fabled low-maintenance girls that you’ve heard about. I don’t care what I’m doing or where I am on special occasions as long as there is wine and food, preferably free food.
    One time I avoided quitting a job just so I could attend a company event with lobster and an overflowing open bar. Then I quit the next day.
If you’re dating one of those girls that drops cute little hits and puts a cute little vice around your wallet for Valentine’s Day, dump her. There are other, more awesome girls out there. Just because it is a holiday that chicks dig, doesn’t mean you have to shell out a pretty penny.
    However, if you are one of those guys that loves spontaneously surprising their girlfriends with flowers, diamonds and expensive dinners, dump her and call me. I know I said I was low-maintenance, but I could easily make the switch. Besides, she doesn’t appreciate it as much as a woman who has been wined and dined at Fresh Choice will.

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