One of the funniest search terms ever used that somehow found this site:

I just have one thing to say: LOL.

Well, okay 2 things – does this person know that Google can’t help with that query?

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27) Sunday Funday

Let’s be serious – the best way to cure a hangover is to start drinking again. And considering that approximately  a lot of BU students wake up hungover on Sunday mornings, it is no surprise that many BU students choose to participate in the ritual known as Sunday funday.

It usually starts out with some sort of semi-civilized brunch. Mimosas and bloody Marys are clearly the most acceptable early morning drinks to go along with your egg-white omelet and turkey bacon, but once food has been consumed it usually degenerates into full-blown cocktails…fine. Next thing you know, you’re drunk-eating dinner and realize that the only thing you can remember between 2 and 7 pm is drunk dialing your mom. (My parents are regular participants in Sunday funday, but they really like ‘tipsy texting.’)

Some at schools on the wrong other side of the Charles might say that Boston University students often partake in Sunday Fundays because we don’t have any work to do. I like to think that we just have our priorities straight, and really live up our weekends. Let’s be serious, when given the choice between a bottle of champagne and an econ problem set, we know what my choice will be 100% of the time.

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CREEPILY ACCURATE (and really depressing)

This article from the Wall Street Journal today strikes a note to which I think a lot of girls at BU can relate:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704409004576146321725889448.html?mod=WSJ_hp_mostpop_read

With the last 3 paragraphs being especially relevant:

Single men have never been civilization’s most responsible actors; they continue to be more troubled and less successful than men who deliberately choose to become husbands and fathers. So we can be disgusted if some of them continue to live in rooms decorated with “Star Wars” posters and crushed beer cans and to treat women like disposable estrogen toys, but we shouldn’t be surprised.

Relatively affluent, free of family responsibilities, and entertained by an array of media devoted to his every pleasure, the single young man can live in pig heaven—and often does. Women put up with him for a while, but then in fear and disgust either give up on any idea of a husband and kids or just go to a sperm bank and get the DNA without the troublesome man. But these rational choices on the part of women only serve to legitimize men’s attachment to the sand box. Why should they grow up? No one needs them anyway. There’s nothing they have to do.

They might as well just have another beer.

 

CAN’T WAIT TO FIND A GOOD SPERM BANK AND START COLLECTING KATZ.

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26) The BU Pub

Let me just say: I REALLY enjoy that BU has a pub on its campus. And also that the pub has a Twitter.

It’s so nice to have a convenient place to go on campus that 1) has bomb nachos and 2) allows you to ‘prepare’ for your next really boring class.

Fact – the first two times I went to the BU pub, Dean Elmore paid for my drinks. Thanks man!

Being able to go to the pub is a rite of passage for those turning 21. You can finally start your knight’s quest (okay listen, it’s really not a big deal) and discover the joy of the grill in pleasant weather. PLEASE LET IT GET WARM SO I CAN AGAIN SAVOR THE DELICIOUS STEAK TIPS.

Half the time a pub lunch turns into “well I guess I cannnnnnn skip the rest of my classes today.”

You ALWAYZ see someone you know at the pub, whether you’d like to or not. Alcohol really brings people together huh? Recently they’ve also been pumping some awesome techno beats. Keep it up dudez.

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GUESS WHAT.

There’s an article in the Freep today featuring BU-focused blogs/Twitters/websites, etc – including yours truly. I’m trying to link to their website, but it’s being a cranky cow so for now GO GET A HARD COPY.

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No Valentine? Come to my Valentine’s Day Beer Pong Tournament

You know you want to.

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25) Being Unemployed Upon Graduation

Us seniors are finally reaching a point where we’re realizing that our skills at beer pong and ordering fishbowls from TITS are not suitable to put on our resumes and in fact do not make us qualified candidates for employment (they do, however, make us VERY suited for UNemployment. (FUNemployment?)).

I don’t know a single person who has a job that pays a living wage (because the people I do know who have jobs are trying to figure out how they can live legally in a cardboard box next to the med campus, seeing as their positions as lab techs will not pay enough for a real roof over their heads), and in fact most people are “still figuring it out.” I’ve developed this gray cloud that follows me wherever I go, ominously warning of a coming time in which it is unacceptable to not be bringing in a paycheck, because I’ll no longer be able to claim “student” in demographic surveys.

Some fortunate souls at BU will get hooked up with an NYC apartment courtesy of Dad, while others get a nice longgggg stint at home trying to scrape together enough cash to move out once and for all.

Someone hire me plz? I have no skills besides having an intimate knowledge of all the liquor prices at Blanchards, and a great sense of direction. I know my college degrees(s) aren’t even worth anything, but unfortunately since I spent my summers slaving away to pay for them, I don’t have the “required experience in research analysis.” #SORRY.

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