The Rise and Fall of Hump Day

Thoughts from an afternoon at school:

Why do I go to the kuc?
It's not because I want a fucking 4 dollar chicken sandwhich or a 2 dollar orange soda, but because I want the people. Sure, the bun managed to crawl inside itself, and the one pickle chic filet gave me I accidentally ate in the first bite (I try and ration it out), but these things I'm ok with. I haven't been going to school (half-assedly) for the past however many years without already being aquainted with such audacious behaviors by none other than kuc visitors and faculty. So what struck the final nerve? What made me look at myself, the surroundings, the dude on the couch drooling on himself with his shoes off, what made me laugh outloud at something so totally ridiculous? It was some girl running for SGA! Fucking student government! Anyways, I think it was like SGAVPGM or something, I wasn't really paying attention. Instead, I paid particular attention to this festering question in my head: WHO THE FUCK HAS MONEY TO PUT THEIR FACE ON THE TABLE IN KUC? There is so much craziness in this I must start a new paragraph.

Let's slowly start off with the criticism (A torrent [I've always wanted to use torrent in a sentence, and a bracket insertation is the coolest even if done inaccurately]) that I have with this issue:

1. At what time did this person come in to put her face all over the tables in the kuc?
Did she even do it? Did she have some guy in her business class do it that has had a thing for her since he met her at Fratty Jim's? "Hey [Name of this chic who I can't stand], wanna go out to the Blue Rooster later on and hit up that great cover band of Tom Petty songs?" says the Dude Who Is About To Get Suckered. "No, I have to wake up early in the morning and plaster my face all across those ugly ass blue tables in the kuc" says Chic Who Has Yet To Redeem Herself In My Eyes, "but if you did it for me I could go to the bar and get free drinks and sleep in until this guy gives me a ride back to my house", she added. OK, while not exactly the true event that conspired, it would still be funny if it didn't. Why? Well it would be just this blonde chic placing a picture of herself on tables for students to look at while they eat, sleep, not go to class, etc...Now this is where I came in. I'm already mildly annoyed that this FUCK ON A GUITAR found somebody with a PA system and access to the KUC, fucking access at the exact time I was in the room, now I get this?

2. Why the fuck didn't somebody stop her?
I don't know. I know the school is supposed to be supportive of a democratic election, and that calls for campaigning, but isn't the fact that they plaster walls, sidewalks, cars that cut me off in the turning lane, can't we leave it at that? Nooooo. I have to deal with some chic watching me while I eat my greasy, half warm, one pickled, overpriced chicken sandwhich (Which, by the way, there was no fucking barebeque sauce for. Don't you think the huge profit margins being made here would allow for a decent supply of sauce? Thank god there was a VAT OF MAYO to substitute this shy supply of barbecue sauce. I thought the cows would have done better than this.) Anyways, if I saw this shit occuring, well, I wouldn't do anything, but I would mock and scorn her and then maybe bitch about it. (Hah, what's it called when you foreshadow but, you know, it is the opposite?)

3. Couldn't the person who sat there last have thrown it away?
Well, that wasn't much of an option because apparently their god damn green tea bottle was too much in the first place to trash, why some picture of a bitch running for SGA? Granted, I just moved the bottle onto the ledge, but I don't want that shit. The table is for my backpack because I don't want to be a contributor to the fucking lazy bunch who just throw their shit on the ground, letting it rest until I almost trip over it, and then they stare at ME! Sorry, let me get back to all of this. In all honesty, I didn't throw it away either, I'm not getting paid to throw this shit away. I'm also not getting paid to give a fuck about SGA stuff, and yet it always comes back to mount me in inappropriate ways until I just cry in shame.

4. Why are the people who ride the elevators in the BAS fat?Well
This isn't really a question. We all know the answer.

These are other questions I'm too stoned to answer right now: Where'd she get this fucking money, why can't I have this fucking money, Why will this bitch probably win and probably make more money than me, blah blah blah. See where I'm going with this?

And this is just Wednesday. I'll end on this, and rather abruptly for Lost is getting near and I need more beer:

What exactly am I going to school for? To prove that I'm not stupid, or to prove I can co-exist with stupid?