College

[highlyeccentric]

Subsequent to the introduction of a points-based room draw, iremos offers a list of points which ought to be awarded. They include:
* 5 points for not washing a possum
and * 50 points for not having shrieking boinkage with your boyfriend in the bathroom that 20 other girls have to use, especially right before class at 9 AM on a weekday.

I wholeheartedly support these motions, and others she has suggested. Well, except possibly item 3:
* 10 points for shutting the walkway door before it sets off the alarm that pierces every single-paned window in the immediate vicinity at 3 AM.
I blame goblinpaladin for the incident of walkway-door-alarming late last night. Sorry iremos.

In the same entry, she writes that

The defining moment of my Women's College career was walking into the dining room on a particularly cold day, wrapped up in my Pratt sweater (represent!), where I encounter a bunch of plastic ziploc bags all neatly labeled with locations on the Women's College grounds and filled with lacy things. A sign propped up on a chair reads, "Dear girls, It is very windy outside today. Please ensure that your clothing is firmly affixed to the clothing lines if you place them on the balcony. These panties were blown onto the lawn this morning. Are any of them yours?"

Meanwhile, kayloulee, otherwise known as "Fresher Highly" (poor child), contributes to the list of Things That Should Not Be Done In Bathrooms: Leaving fake tan crap all over the sinks (wtf) and the benches in the shower stalls. YUK. No one wants to see your body paint, bimbo people who want to look orange.

We had a lovely Impromput* Party in Kate's room last night.
Now i must write an essay on Chaucer. Someone shoot me now.

*that was supposed to be Impromptu, but i do so like the look of Impromput. I wonder what an Impromput party consists of?

Comments

[phrasemuffin.livejournal.com]

... you did. And I do so love it. But... it isn't Tripod!!

Meh, I should probably just go out and buy them. I have quite a few CDs I "need" to get. But there's just something about CD stores that makes me forget who I like. Artists in such a store become like tea that is brewing - outside this state, my memory works fine upon the object, but once this state is achieved, my memory can no longer grasp its reality. I cease to remeber it/they exist/s.

[highlyeccentric.livejournal.com]

i will just have to give you tripod then won't i?

[phrasemuffin.livejournal.com]

... you don't have to


:)