So, you’re here – fresh out of high school, now at university, with a burning desire to conquer the world. You’ve said goodbye to your parents, unpacked your suitcases and are now just hoping your roommate doesn’t ask why you have an extra vibrating toothbrush beneath your mattress.*
It’s a brave new world for you, filled with knowledge, personal growth, exploration and pregnancy scares. You must face this mountain, but you’re not alone. I, Joseph Tunney, have written this article as a sort of cheat sheet for the hipsterly-challenged and Lazy Lebowskis out there who need a little help.
First off, cheat sheets are banned on campus.
Next we move on to a tip that didn’t really dawn on me until the latter half of my second year: the bigger the words, the smarter you sound.
You’ll find in university, it’s not the meaning behind your words that counts but the vitality and the frequency you yell them at. If you’re really stuck for a big word, do what I do and use a Thesaurus, my little probationers.
Try these on for size:
- If you’re in philosophy, manipulate your classmates into thinking you’re smart by saying “categorical imperative” a few times.
- In a fine arts class? Tell your professor you think both his work and his new Mickey Mouse tie are “postmodern.”
- Ask your English prof if the “Edwardian Era” of literature came before or after Aslan’s second coming.
- And for criminology? Fuck if I know. I think basic mastery over words like “Cat” and “Barn” will be impressive enough.
Next is a pro-tip all first years should listen to: it’s about Graham Street. Graham is a magical street of discovery similar to Sesame Street but with more cocaine and fighting (but with just as many lovable characters). As you wander down that fabled street, skipping from porch party to porch party, with nothing to light your way but the romantic glow of couch fires, I want you to ask yourself one thing:
“Could I actually spend time in these mould-infested houses if I wasn’t high on Molly?”
You’ll probably find the answer is “no,” which means you should go back to something that just feels edgy but isn’t. Like watching Orange is the New Black.
If you are down, me and you need to party.
Now let’s talk fashion. You’ve probably realized the fashion season for that STU Welcome Week shirt is short. Shorter than that mini-skirt you’re wearing. The general public’s understanding of seeing that shirt after Sept.6 is that it is it’s either a) laundry day b) you woke up late and wore your PJs to class (an almost unforgivable crime) or c) you have received a rather stiff sentencing from the courts.
I feel like I’m being too cruel to the ladies in this column. For that, I am sorry. To atone I’ll direct my attention to STU men’s fashion.
Guys, you have no need to wear your baseball cap inside. I’m sorry to tell you but the only deadly radiation hitting you in the cafeteria isn’t coming from the sun. I know you want to rep Bautista because he’s your boy but I’m trying to beat this out of you while you still have a chance (a better chance than the Blue Jays have, anyways). They kind of make you look douchy… and I should know. Have you been reading this column? I’m a douche.
And that’s all you need to know.
Wait, I forgot: don’t forget to clean behind your ears, and… um…look both ways before crossing the street. Make your bed every morning and brush your teeth. Don’t forget to call your mom – that’s very important – and oh! don’t forget to change your sheets regularly… at least once a semester…
There. I covered it all. Everything.
If you have any questions about class schedules, certain professors, or who the fuck Brian Mulroney is, don’t. Because honestly I’ve been here three years and still don’t know if Moodle is a dog or a sex toy.
P.S. Don’t forget to lick the ball in the upper courtyard. I hear it’s good luck!
*Ever seen the movie Teeth?
