Last week, I wrote about fraternities at the University. To clear up any confusion that you frat guys may have had, I would like to reiterate that just because I didn't call out your frat specifically doesn't mean you don't suck. Thanks.
When I was younger, my parents were always telling me that I was getting too big for my britches. I argued that they weren't buying me pants often enough. They didn't like that.
Right now would be a great time to pull an April Fool's prank. No one would be expecting it eight months in advance. One good prank would be to replace "Wet Paint" signs with signs that say "Delicious Wall."
Whenever I make a "to-do" list, the first item I write down is "Make to-do list." That way, I've already made a dent.
One of these days I would like to quoth something. You rarely hear things quothed anymore, and I aim to change that. I'm not really sure how I would go about it, but I've always wanted to join the elite ranks of those who quoth, and I figure, at this point in my life, I'm man enough.
I want to write an enormous treatise in which the very first sentence begins, "On the other hand ... " I like the idea of catching readers off-guard from the start. They will open the book, gaze at the first sentence and will immediately be forced to think, "Did I miss something?"
I will dress up in a suit and tie and lie down on the steps in front of the district courthouse and fall fast asleep. Then people will not question the sign around my neck that reads, "The prosecution rests."
I saw a young boy holding a balloon in the park. He was so full of glee, having not a care in the world. Everyone becomes a little bit happier when holding a balloon. Unfortunately, the balloon is usually thinking more along the lines of, "For the love of God, please do not let go!"
Balloons really do lead pitiful existences. Think about it: A tranquil session of acupuncture for you is a curse of death for a balloon.
I was arrested outside the AFC for "stealing" some free weights from the gym. That is blatant false advertising.
I don't mean to offend anyone, but how exactly does a peg-leg pirate shop for shoes? I mean, say his right leg is missing. They don't make him pay for a whole pair of shoes if he can only wear the left shoe, right? Maybe if he were very lucky he could befriend another peg-leg pirate in need of a right-foot shoe and having the same taste in fashion. I smell a charity ...
In the underworld, there's only one buffet-style restaurant, and it's called Tantalus' All-You-Can't-Eat. Actually, I'm pretty sure there's a Shoney's there, too.
Maybe clams wouldn't be so silent if we'd just take the time to listen.
I fear I am becoming too apprehensive.
Lastly, here's a math trick for people of all ages: To start, pick a number, any number at all (you may want to use your calculator for the rest). Ok, now multiply your number by five. Next, square the value. Divide that result by four. Multiply by pi. Add 27. Subtract 27. Add 27. Subtract 27 again. Add it. Subtract. Add. Subtract. Ok, now stop. With me so far? Good.
Now add 27 and subtract it away immediately. Take the cubed root of that answer. If you've done that, multiply by 1,000,001. Now add 27, but DO NOT SUBTRACT 27 this time. Got it? Alright, now go ahead and subtract 27. We're down to our last three steps. First, subtract your original number. Next, calculate the reciprocal. And finally -- are you ready? -- divide by zero. Now DON'T TELL ME what your answer is. Why do I say that, you ask? Because I already know what your answer is! I'll prove it. Your answer is: ... "undef."
Hooray! I tested every number I could think of and got exactly that every time! Do you believe in magic? I bet you do now!
By the way, if you didn't get that answer, you probably forgot to subtract 27. I'm disappointed.
Dan's column runs each Wednesday. He can be reached at dooley@cavalierdaily.com.