Net: One of the new…

Net: One of the newsroom lackeys mentioned to us the other day we were in the fifth week of the semester. The fifth week! And here we are, without books and still borrowing pencils from a friendly neighbor!
It’s enough to make us want to take another term of incompletes.
To SoSensitive from Ignoramus Platobus: In response to his outcry over the millionaire marriage show, here’s a hint: Net: Siddown-n-shaddap!? In an attempt to control human overpopulation, the people in power are conspiring to take the mass public down to such appalling depths of moral destruction so that the weaklings all kill themselves in despair. Net: Just like the government created AIDS and crack, right? Oh yeah, and then there’s the grassy knoll … Only the strong will survive the upcoming onslaught of debauchery. Either kill your TV or buy a gun, bucko! Net: Option No. 3: Assume the fetal position, insert thumb in mouth and mutter “Why, Regis, Why?” in a foreign tongue. Moohoohahahahaha!!!
From Bow-Chica-Bow-Wow: Dear Net, I have recently been noticing a trend in many of my engineering classes, a trend that should concern all of us. Net: Dear God, no … pocket protectors are coming back? There are a surprising number of students in the Institute of Technology who survived the “weeding out” system. Net: What, they haven’t learned to speak Klingon yet? These people regularly ask questions that first-graders and gifted chimpanzees could answer. As an example, a professor might write 2+4 on the board, and one of these people would ask, “Professor, where did that 6 come from?” Net: Or, if they were a chimp, they might say, “OOH-OOH-AH-AH-AH!!!” My associates and I have begun to refer to these people as “weenies.” Net: Does that refer to the genus or the species? It is my fear that many of these weenies will slip through the entire educational system. If this happens, buildings will fall, planes will crash and the UDS toaster will scorch my toast … too late. Net: This is a problem. We’re holding out for the Jetsons-style shower/air-dry/wardrobe contraption to hit the market, and, well, we need smart people to put stuff like that together. Many of the major catastrophes in our technological era can be attributed to the release of weenies into the engineering world. Beware the weenies. Net: Isn’t that a NOW slogan?
From PBR Me ASAP: I have to set you straight here, Network. Net: We’re perfectly happy being crooked. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being an alcoholic parking attendant. Net: In a Third World sort of way. After all, who wouldn’t want to sit in a telephone booth for six hours and collect money? But listen up, everybody; you should all be really nice to us in the future. We hold the power over those of you who wish to park in the University lots. We can refuse the right for you to park in our lot, we can hold you hostage by never lifting our “little arm of the law.” Net: Sounds like a good nickname for … oh, never mind. Yes, I am talking about that bright yellow gate that stands between you and the open road. We even have the almighty power of hitting you where it hurts most the wallet! Net: We beg to differ. Ever been punched in the ear? That’s a doozy. Yes, we can have you ticketed, and even towed. And don’t think we won’t; it’s actually quite enjoyable for us. Net: Which came first … the bitches behind the window at the impound lot or the pricks in the parking booths? At times, you might think of Parking and Transportation as an evil empire, charging $1.75/hr in the ramps and $7.00 for event parking when you’re trying to make your night class, but some of us aren’t so bad. Net: Yeah, the ones that have been hobbled. We might even say “thank you” or “have a nice day.” About the only thing that keeps us going in our 3-by-5 glass-lined prisons is knowing that we are making Net: minimum wage all of you out there miserable waiting in line. You can honk all you want, but it doesn’t mean we’ll get the change out any faster. We need our alcohol to unwind from a long day of breathing in car exhaust and getting sprayed with washer fluid. Net: How else are we supposed to get back at you? Parking attendants are, after all, real people, no matter how much you may think that our “little arm of the law” is hailing Hitler. So be nice or beware, for our numbers are many, and we lurk in every one of your Net: nightmares classes.
From Lord Southerbye: What the hell is the matter with the walkways on campus? Net: They all lead to classrooms. Am I the only one that notices that nasty-looking 3-inch layer of brown froth on EVERY SINGLE walkway? Net: It’s actually a little-known add-on to the Beautiful U project. Granted, I have the balance of a one-legged newborn horse, but I know that I am not alone when I say that s##!t is slippery. Today alone I must have seen two handfuls of unsuspecting students plant themselves into that mess, further polishing the layer of compressed snow and blood beneath the soup. How can we have coffee shops every 50 yards but not a single working snow shovel for the paths? Net: Drink enough coffee and you’ll be so hyperactive you can just float above the ground … And how about those damned crazy-ass Evil Knievel bike riders that leave a 6-foot swath of pissed off people as they ride by? First, how do they stay upright? Net: Magic invisible training wheels. And secondly, keep an eye out, because the next time I see one of those clowns coming, I’m planning on working the old-school A-TEAM-style clothesline on them. Net: OK, now … which one of them used that move — B.A., Faceman or Murdock? I’m tired of showing up at class with white salt-rings on my previously-monotone shoes and my pants all looking like I soiled myself. Net: It could be worse. At least you’re not a millionaire weenie parking lot attendant.