...there must be some Toros in the atmosphere. Well, it's clearly winter time, and that means but one thing: Eric whips out his beanie hat. Beanies are awesome until that moment when you take one off and realize your hair is completely flattened to your head. It's like someone shaved me bald and painted my scalp black. Beanie hair is by far the worst hair to have. Move over baseball-hat-hair, motorcycle-helmet-hair, passed-out-in-a-weird-position-after-a-night-of-drunkenness-hair: there's a new king in town. And his crown is a beanie. With jewels in it, I suppose.
Courses have officially started and I'd like to take a quick moment to address some of my fellow classmates. When our professor says, "OK then, that about wraps it up, but before I let you go... any questions?" that may sound like the perfect opportunity to ask question, but let me assure you that it is not. Please suck up after class on your own time, when you're not holding me and a few hundred other people hostage. If you do ask a question after I hear the words, "that about wraps it up," you will receive the death stare of a lifetime.
You know how sometimes you'll be drinking water and it'll go down the wrong tube? You can just cough it up and soon you're fine. I bet if you inhaled peanut butter you'd totally be dead.
Regardless of how I die, I'd like to have that as my cause of death on my tombstone: "Eric Cunningham: He ate a sandwich way too fast."
My life needs more chances for double takes. My life lacks these opportunities. It's so rare that I'm introduced to someone's clone, or, as a popular jock, see the nerdy schoolgirl reveal herself to be a total hottie at the school dance. I demand more double takes. The closest I'm getting to looking one direction, turning slightly away, then quickly turning back is my patented super-fast, left-right-left way of crossing the street.
I bet a good number of people reading this column actually turned their heads a little after reading that.
Early this week a man self-identified as "Ben" littered Grounds with flyers proclaiming his own relationship idiocy to a girl who he probably pissed off in some way. My only beef with this is that as a mere bystander to this act of love, I never have any closure. He puts up his flyers one day and the general student body never finds out how it turns out for him. Did Ben contract pneumonia from putting up these flyers in the dead of night for nothing? Next week I'd like to see other flyers put up in response:
"Dear Ben,
A few dozen flyers isn't gonna make you un-cheat on me. You're still a jerk.
-Some girl"
I wish there were more superheroes around. If I was a nuclear regulatory inspector, some days I'd probably be real lax in the whole "safety" thing. I feel we must always try to enable the accidental superhero transformation. That's why I promote inferior nuclear/biological/chemical security, unethical genetic experimentation secret government projects and constantly travel with an Erlenmeyer flask full of psychosis-inducing acid. Just in case.
Why are police car lights red, white and blue? Someone told me it's because our flag is red, white and blue. Is that the rule, you go by flag colors? I'm guessing in Italy it gets confusing. You'll be driving around and suddenly you think you're being pursued by a schizophrenic traffic light.
But maybe police colors are red, white and blue all over the world. It probably ends up really hurting the world's view of us. People think America is literally the police of the world.
Speaking of "not-America," my Grandad sent me a check for Christmas from Ireland where they use Euros. Awesome. However, according to the bank, between transaction fees and converting rates it costs more to cash the check than it's worth. Eric = devastated. I now realize this is how Comm school graduates get back at us for making fun of them for living in Clemons. Why did you steal Christmas from me?
Awesome Facebook group: Facebook Spam Sucks. FSS, I'd totally join you, but I'm guessing people deliberately choose your group to spam, because, well deep down, we're all jerks. It's nice to see that Facebook has given us a rare opportunity to show that deep down we're no better than the "L0W MOR+GAG3"-peddlers that clog up my Webmail inbox.
According to a Google search, the Seven Society has a P.O. Box in Charlottesville so people can contact them. I so want to mail them a letter and be like:
"Dear Seven Society,
I would like to join your group. Thank you.
Love,Eric"
Then after a while follow-up with:
"Sir or Madam,
Your disrespect towards me and my request to join your organization has upset me. Prepare to be out-secreted by the newest and best organization on Grounds: The Eight Society.
Exactly one better than you,Eric"
Eric Cunningham can be reached at cunningham@cavalierdaily.com
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