From Buckfifty (a.k.a. Buckmedown): I was approached by one of the “Bible Posses” the other day while strolling through campus and one of them asked me if I believed in God. Net: Did you expect them to ask for directions to Ground Zero? I said no, and he asked, “Why not?” I asked him why he thought it was necessary to be asking me these questions at nine in the morning. He told me because Jesus is coming and I won’t be prepared. I said, “Sure I will … by that time I will have saved enough money from selling drugs to pregnant girls to buy another gun.” I laughed. Net: Ha! So did we. A stern-voiced man said: “You’ll go to Hell for saying things like that.” I looked at him and said, “That’s funny, I thought for sure I’d go to Hell for stealing all the money from the collection plate.” He said, “Your mother should be ashamed that she raised a child like you.” And since I don’t play when people talk about my mom I said, “Your mom is like a bowling ball … she gets picked up, fingered, and thrown in the gutter.” (I love being immature) Net: Sounds like a serious talent. I asked if there would be any more questions, and one of them angrily said, “You’ll have to answer to God from now on.” I said, “God and I already talked and we agreed that if I stay on track he’d hook me up with a first-class ticket to Hell — and make sure there will be a bunch of beautiful women waiting for me when I get there, probably sorority girls.” One of them told me I was a lost cause and they started putting on their backpacks. Net: Crybabies. I said, “Come on, you haven’t even begun to witness my wrath; you’re not crying yet!” It’s the little things about this campus that I love.
From Matzaman: I was very disappointed when reading the “guide to the drivers” that one of the most despised drivers wasn’t listed. Net: Jeff Gordon? That’s right, you all know who I am talking about. Net: Dale Earnhardt. He can just be called, “THE @$$##0!3.” This is the guy that believes the back door is for exiting the bus only, and when someone tries to come onto the bus through the back door, he shuts it right on ya. In two years, I have seen him close it on at least 500 people. Net: That’s a lot of bus riding. Walking is healthy. Last year, he must have been reported; they gave him the older buses to drive, where the back door can’t be physically shut by the driver. Net: Telepathically, then? This year they thought he was rehabilitated and gave him back the new buses, but this “@$$##0!3” is back to his old tricks. I look forward to him breaking old an old lady’s leg one day just so Ryder will finally get rid of this maniac. Net: Further evidence coming in three, two, and one …

From The Limping Chipitouuu!: Yesterday, or the day before, I was about to take the Campus Connector. Net: Wow. Well, as usual the passengers got out in a human stampede, but after they got out, the driver closed the back door although there were like … 10 people waiting to get in back there. Then I noticed he opened it again, and since I was not far from the door, I lifted my foot to the entrance to get into the bus. Once my foot was there the driver slammed the door, trapping my leg by the ankle! Net: Are you by chance an old lady? And is your leg broken? I had to fight the rubber knives on the door to free myself and run to the front of the bus to get on. Once in, the driver gave me this evil look. SOOO my question is: Why are some drivers slamming the door on back door passengers?? Net: And our question remains — what was wrong with your legs *before* you tried to get on the bus?
Net: This is one for the Minister of Concurrence. Minister?
MOC: Yes?
Net: Take this letter, please.
From LabJockey: Anyone remember the blurb awhile back about the non-rhythm “nnnngh-nnngh-nnnngh” guy? MOC: Yes. Well … he’s back — and with the guttural/throat-induced pulse that can drive a student insane!!! MOC: Yes? I know everyone in here is being driven nuts … do I play the courteous user and tell his to SHUT HIS MOUTH?! MOC: YES! Or do I simply whack away with concealed Louisville Slugger behind the Table O’ Beverages? MOC: Whatever that means … yes.
Net: Thanks, Minister.
MOC: Yes.
Net: Onward.
From Infinity Sasster: Just wanted to say — ‘hi cowboy’ to O.G.Ph.D — how are those fabulous abs of yours? Rolladiva‘s friend, here — don’t think I’m in the dark about you and your shadowy ways … Net, how did you know we made tapes of that shin-diggity nightcap? Net: There isn’t much that Citizen doesn’t know … and even less that he doesn’t tell us. Want one? Net: Umm … yes. And as Rolla‘s loyal chum, I have to verify her saucy claim about the $20 pimpin’ fee for her panties, as this Sasster herself was groovin’ on the dance floor and shed some satiny skivvies at the same time! I have to say tho that not only did Diva get more $ cuz hers were golden, Net: Watch the double meaning, Sass … but cuz she was workin’ it in dis teeny, vixeny-hot lil’ liquidy black minidress — which says much of her audaciousness, but then again, one can never fully understand the potent passion of the Diva until they happen to frolic across her path. Quite a wicked tongue, too, I must say… Over and out, for now; I’ll whisper more wet fantasies in your ear later, darlings.
From Rollergirl: Even though I am incredibly sick of hearing about Rollerdiva, Net: Stop hitting yourself. I do believe I have a Rollerdiva story for all of you. Net: Why are you hitting yourself? I was just on the bus going to East Bank from West Bank and I think I may have seen the infamous Rollerdiva in a bit of a rage. It seems that our bus driver took off without her. This led to Rollerdiva throwing her bottle of Evian at the window of the bus … I wonder if she got it back? Anyway, just thought I would share … Net: Say it ain’t so, Roller … with those fancy blades on your tootsies, you’d use (*gnk*) public transportation? We are SO not impressed …