Finals Are FUN!

Over the past couple of days I've been mired with a workload that just seems unbearbly huge. I thought to myself over and over - how the fuck am I ever going to finish all of this shit on time. I quickly became overwhelmed with feelings of despair, I even contemplated what my chosen method of suicide would be (shotgun to the face, if your interested, course I'd get folded first, but still). I was suddenly appalled by my own depression, so I began thinking about why I shouldn't be depressed - Why?!?! - Because finals are FUN!

Alright, so maybe spending sleepless nights pouring out my soul in black and white just to make more work for myself and my profs, has turned my mind into rotten nothingness, but alteast hear me out.

SMOOOOOKE! Never had a cigarette before? Here's a great oppurtunity. I just got done reading that article in the paper about how cigs are bad, well that shit is WRONG! Your lungs are good, ur young, this is the time when you need to start fuckin your body up. Old people got it made! You got a chair with wheels so that you never need to get up?!?! I'm walkin around on my legs like a schmuck! You got a repirator that breaths FOR YOU!?! And here I am gasping like a little bitch. You have an attractive 30' something nurse who wipes ur ass for you after you poo!?!? So bum that bugs, collect your change and take a walk to russle, strike a match - and let the motherfucker burn. Ask that skinny kid from Alaska about cigarettes - he'll have a bugs in ur mouth before you can say "but hey I grew up without soda or high sugar cereals, and I could only watch 2 hrs of TV a week."

Like vodka? Try some redbull! In a week or so you can combine these two ingredients and keep yourself bumpin till 7AM, assuming your heart doesnt explode in ur chest first.

Check some bitches! Ever noticed how the library is full of all these chicks you never see outside of the library, and they all got those terry cloth sweats that just hang off the curve of their ass? Well come finals, you'll be swimin in terry cloth. So take a look around, maybe just take one of those swivel chairs from the computers and have a spin, you will be amazed at the birdies hiding out in the library. Discover that fetish for glasses you never realized you had. San Fran can vouch for this. Maybe I'm silly, but the hot librarian look is just unresistable. Good luck fightin the urge to J.

Finals are also your chance to master the art of procrastination. Peruse the internet until your retnas burn, and you can regail your friends with news stories you read on CNN.com about a young turkish boy who got eaten by a pack of wild pigs, while his family had lunch. OR god forbid, check man-space out, and tell everyone else to do the same, we wanna get to the point where we can start making money with this thing, or atleast to the point where we can heavily influence the popular culture at Bates.

Finally, find some inspiration. Push it to the limit, your a smart kid- or else you wouldn't be here, so make use of that IQ and study up. You've spent all semester working hard, and yet your fate comes down to 2 weeks of effort, kinda sucks. Finals week is the time to prove to yourself that your better than this shit, get ready - cuz this is war.

I repeat, this is WAR! Get inspired you douchebags, make no mistake about it - you are at war. Thats right, you are in the battle of your life. Picture yourself storming the beaches of normandy, machine gun fire swarms above your head as you crawl across the sand. You make it to the back line, only to find a lowly freshman wandering around looking for the other half of his arm (Intro to anthro paper- 10pgs). You just scoff, i mean c'mon, 10 pages... anthro?! Its on the natives of papua new guinea you fuck, just make some shit up, no one knows what the fuck those people are about. You crawl ahead, to find a sophomore with his guts just hanging out, on the phone with his mommy - "I miss home mom, I miss chips our dog, Its cold, my butthole hurts" - pussy. Finally you make it to the front line. Juniors and Seniors are passin out camels, taken token samples of sand to bring home, this is fuckin vacation - its Europe baby! While the machine gunners take a break to reload, you pop your head up to get a good look at the enemy. Tweed coats, wierd 1940's style fedoras, facial hair, thick glasses, wierd sandals, and books, just tons of fuckin books. Yea you guessed right, its the Professors, those word loving, freedom hating commies. You look up and down the line, you see kids from your classes (some of whom you've never spoken a word to in your life), you also see your buddies, and that chick that usta give you handjobs freshman year, who you dont even say hi to anymore when you walk past her in the quad- (do you wino); and guess what? They're all lookin at you. You look back at them, and they already know what your thinking - BONG - everyone take a book - summarize it, we'll have that study guide done in no time, oh your doing that paper?- yea I already got 8 pages - you need to step it up son. Whoa! someone has a copy of last years test - better spread that around like its the clap (the fuckin airforce has arrived my friends, and they're droppin bombs on those pill boxes full of profs.) You grab ur rifle/laptop and storm those fuckin machine guns, your sprayin shots, puttin dots of heads like its a part of their religion, tossin nades, and lettin 'em burn. When the dust settles, its Friday night, finals are over, your tests are done, and the company happened to stumble upon a cache of whiskey and bouge those profs had been hidin- time to pop something and roll something cuz its winter break.