Hellish truths about University revealed

Satan, "The

BLEH! BLEH!
The Newman Center’s closed. Just a small feather in my already full cap. First I get a governor I can work with — how could I lose? — and now this.
Why don’t we just admit it? Religion is dead, unless you’re part of my religion.
Catholic? Bite me. Lutheran? Ditto. Hindu? Vishnu.
Yes, slowly but surely the University is descending into my fowl grasp. Network was the first step in my plan. That’s right. I am behind Network.
Net: Nice try, Lucy. Erm … Lucifer, or whatever you go by. Networkians know better.
BLEH! Fire, brimstone, etc.
I’ve slowly lowered the University’s morals even further, thanks to the help of the Daily. Come now, you must have suspected I was behind this paper. Did you really think there were that many people who lost their keys?
My revolution progressed with the inception of “Dr.Date.”
Fools.
Did you really think there were that many homosexuals frightened to ask each other out? Ridiculous.
Don’t even get me started on the crossword puzzle, or the “Sports” section.
So now my plan advances. With Curt Carlson out of the way, very little stands between myself and campus domination.
“Let’s face it, you’re the one really running this university,” University President Mark Yudof probably didn’t say. “I’m just a figurehead for your evil reign.”
Fire, more brimstone.
My conquest has begun with the closing of the Newman Center. Don’t give me any of that namby-pamby “we’re moving our offices elsewhere” crap.
Some whiny bastard said: “Nyuhh. Whine, whine whine. I suck. Neener, neener. Bleh.”
That bastard raised a good point. In response, please do me the honor of eating my devil-sized shorts.
Next up on my list is the theater program and those do-gooders over in the civil engineering department, like Anthony Aderhold. Yes, Aderhold, I know all about you and your “cartoon porn.” What Fred Flinstone is doing to Betty Rubble just isn’t right.
Slowly the tide turns.
MYOUHAHAHAHA!
I feel like St. Concubine after he repulsed the Vegans.
Five years ago, the campus would have immediately recognized the semester conversion as just another of my plots. But thanks to Network and Dr. Date, I’ve shaken the moral fiber of this campus to its bone.
BLEH!
Fire, brimstone, bleh.
Keep reading infidels. You know that test you’re about to take? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Me again. There’s no such thing as a square root for negative numbers! I’ve successfully distracted you from that test, and you’re going to fail, fail! It’s all coming to fruition.