WordPress is good enough to keep track of search engine queries that result in visits to this blog. Some days are weirder than others…
Our favorite:
He must have been so disappointed, bless his heart.
#1 Bad conversations
Driver: Seen any good movies?
Passenger: Yeah. The Informant! was pretty good –
Driver: Did you see New Moon? I saw New Moon. Twice. It was so good. There was this line, “You give me everything by just breathing–
Passenger flings self out of vehicle.
#2 Bad navigators
Passenger: [yawns, looks at watch] Hey! We’ve been in the car for five hours…shouldn’t we be home by now?
Driver: That’s what I thought. But you said you were going to tell me where to turn!
Passenger: I thought you were going to wake me up when you needed help!
Driver: I’ve needed help since we left Farmville. I don’t know where it is, you know, in relation to where we live.
Passenger: It’s the heart of Virginia. We’re from Nova. You go north. It’s not that hard.
Driver: I’ve been driving north. I think.
Passenger: Why do all the license plates say South Carolina?
Driver: Stop yelling at me!
#3 Grammar Issues
Driver: So…Can I get a handjob?
Passenger: Uh. I don’t know, can you? It’s may I get a handjob –
Driver: [slams on breaks] Get the fuck out of my car.
#4 Mental Issues
Passenger: So how’s your semester been?
Driver: Uhh, you didn’t hear?
Passenger: Hear what?
Driver: My boyfriend broke up with me and, and…I tried to end it all.
Passenger: What? When was this?
Driver: Like, a week ago. But I’m better now.
Passenger: Are you sure? How about I drive?
Driver: That’s okay. Really, I do feel a lot better.
Passenger: You’re such a happy person! Why would you try to kill yourself?
Driver: Because I waited till the last minute to get tickets to New Moon and they didn’t have any tickets left –
Passenger flings self out of vehicle
We’re fairly certain that the chain link thoroughfares between Wygal and Brock Commons have nothing to do with student safety and everything to do with studying the spatial learning and memory capacity of Longwood students. It is, essentially, a giant rat maze.
It’s taken us a few weeks to come to this conclusion — but the facts are sobering. Let’s review:
1) Every time we journey into the maze, we’ve seen a congregation of solemn-looking people in lab coats staring down at us from the library, writing on clipboards.
2) There are an inordinate amount of right-angle turns and dead ends. And there’s the electric shock — what’s up with that!?!? That hurts!
3) More than once, we have been tempted inside the maze by the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches. Despite many exhaustive searches, we have yet to find such a sandwich in the maze.
4) Once, after ten minutes of wrong turns and electric shock, we fell to the ground, curled into a fetal position, and started crying. Suddenly, a friend appeared and helped us find out way out. What was the friend’s major? Psychology. How convenient.
5) When we asked the aforementioned psychology major friend if this was, in fact, a giant rat maze, he laughed uneasily and told us we were “crazy.” We pushed him against the wall and demanded an explanation. He said “Dude, I don’t know…shit, maybe it really is a rat maze. I don’t know. Who cares, anyway?” Since making this quasi-confession, this friend has disappeared, failing to return any of our calls for further elaboration.
Thus, we have been avoiding the maze as much as possible. We wouldn’t wish its horrors on even our worst enemy.
However, if you’re still an unbeliever, we recommend you go fucking try it for yourself.
When people gush all over the pleasures of the holiday season, they always leave out the big family intervention.
Don’t act like you don’t know the routine: malfeasances listed. Tears cried. Demands demanded. Every year, one poor bastard gets ambushed by his/her family and methodically cut apart and passed around like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Which is all fun and good, until the shoe drops on you. And let’s not be coy — it will drop on you.
When will it happen? Take this quiz to find out.
1. When your friend says “You need help,” the tone is
a) joking/ironic
b) half-serious
c) earnest and tearful, with heavy emphasis on every word
d) all too familiar: nagging, Debbie Downer-esque.
2. Are your actions often misunderstood and/or looked down upon by your peers and family?
a) Not really
b) Sometimes
c) Now that you mention it…kinda!
d) God, they need to just fucking lighten up and let me live my own life
3. How do you view your lifestyle in the context of those around you?
a) Very similar
b) Mostly similar, with a refreshing, kinky twist
c) I follow my heart, unlike those around me.
d) Everyone’s got problems…you know. That’s just…a fact of life.
4. How bad did you fail your classes this semester?
a) Would have done fine, were it not for the attendance policy!
b) I hung in there until about the midterm
c) It was over by the third week
d) Lissssten…
5. Do you make your friends cry?
a) Not often.
b) More than I would care to admit.
c) Only when I get defensive. So — yes. Quite often.
d) Uhhhh it wouldn’t happen so much if people would respect my privacy and just let me live my life.
If your answers fell in the B-C range, you have nothing to worry about this holiday season. Enjoy yourself. However, an intervention is nigh if you answered D to any of these questions. You can spend the next week trying to sort yourself together, or you can practice your best pouting/arm-crossing posture.
We just saw The Bail, the first time in a while. Although he was bright-eyed and happy to see us, we couldn’t help but notice the limp in his step — and plus his head wasn’t as freshly shaven as normal, and he was wearing a homemade bandage over his right hand.
There was story behind this:
When I left the bar last night, my car wouldn’t unlock. It was like someone had gone and put gunk or something in the keyhole so it wouldn’t turn properly. I was so mad. It kept making this grinding noise when I turned the key. I had a spare key in my wallet, but of course that one didn’t work, either!
So I went back into the bar and I screamed WHO THE FUCK PUT GUNK IN MY KEYHOLE? No one had any answers. They just looked at me. I went to the dining area and I saw this guy sweeping the floor. I could tell he was trying to avoid eye contact. He had a guilty look. No one ever sweeps the floor with that much concentration. So I went up to him and I said HEY MOTHERFUCKER — WAS IT YOU? He said he didn’t know what I was talking about, and he went back to sweeping the floor. That made me even angrier! So I grabbed his broom and yelled and said PAY ATTENTION TO ME, YOU LITTLE LYING MOTHERFUCKER. I tried to split the broom in half, but it was pretty thick and plus I didn’t pick the right spot. I hurt my knee pretty bad. I howled, and then I chucked that fucking broom across the room. It pierced the drywall like it was a spear! I did not expect that. That was pretty cool.
I went back outside and tried to unlock my car. Still no luck. So I took off my t-shirt, wrapped it around my hand, and punched a hole in the window. Now, finally inside my car, you’d think all would be well. But it wasn’t. Someone had put gunk in the ignition as well! I couldn’t turn my car on!
What made it even more infuriating was how sloppy they had been. There was a bottle of water in the cup holder that wasn’t mine. There were some CDs that I didn’t recognize — they even left some of their clothes in my car! The fuckers! They had even smoked in my car! It smelled like cigarettes!
I ended up walking home. I kept taking breaks because my knee hurt like a bitch and I was really dizzy and also I must have cut a vein or something in my hand because it wouldn’t stop bleeding. Somewhere along the way I crawled under some bushes and decided to take a rest. And that’s where I woke up early this morning. I’m lucky no one found me, cause I’d left this drippy trail of blood on the sidewalk that led right to the bushes! There were some ants on the sidewalk that were eating some of it – that sort of grossed me out.
But that’s not even the most fucked up part. By far, the most fucked up part is that when I got to my house, there sat my car in the driveway. My key worked! The inside smelled like cinnamon again! And the hole I had punched in the window was gone!
I was just walking to class, and I saw him, the dude who had been holding the broom at the bar. I said hey and I was going to ask him how he fixed everything so quickly — but he ran the other way.
Oh, well. Guess that will teach him to put gunk in my car’s keyhole.
Out of Virginia’s three hundred thirty-two ABC stores, our establishment on 1506 South Main Street ranks forty-sixth in gallons sold, seventy-third in gross sales.
According to the ABC board’s annual report, between July 1, 2007 and June 30, 2008, the store sold 42,575 gallons, and made $2,539,801 in gross sales.
The Roanoke Times‘s Matt Chittum has uploaded on his blog an interesting map that identifies the top fifty stores in the state, along with the four hundred and eighty-three establishments that were caught selling alcohol to minors.
Today
International Education: According to the event schedule, “Cmdr. David Nystrom, deputy director of strategic communications for the Office of Naval Research, will speak Monday, Nov. 16, at 7:30 p.m. in Molnar Recital Hall in Wygal on “The Reconstruction Efforts for the Gold Dome Mosque in Samarra.” He will discuss the challenges facing the reconstruction efforts for this mosque in Iraq, one of Shi’ite Islam’s holiest shrines, which was heavily damaged in bombings by militants in 2006 and 2007.”
Transgender Awareness: According to the Facebook event schedule, a Transgender Workshop will be held at Hiner 207, starting at 7:00 p.m. “We will be discussing what it means to be transgender, who falls under the category of being transgender, and various other trans issues.”
Our Recommendation: Cmdr. David Nystrom, even though his lecture doesn’t appear to deal with education.
Tuesday, November 17th
International Education: “Dr. Steven Isaac, associate professor of history, will speak Tuesday, Nov. 17, at 4 p.m. in the Virginia Room in Blackwell Hall on ‘Intruders and Entrails: Medieval Sieges, Longwood University and a Fulbright in France.’ Isaac, a specialist in medieval military culture, is going in the spring semester as a Fulbright Scholar to the University of Poitiers in France, where he will conduct research on military sieges in the 12th century and their impact on town dwellers. A reception will follow his talk.”
Trangender Awareness: Screening of the documentary “She’s a Boy I Once Knew” in Jeffer’s Auditorium, from 7:15-8:15 p.m.
Our Recommendation: Professor Isaacs’s reputation as an engaging lecturer should be enjoyed while we still have him at Longwood. However, “She’s a Boy I Once Knew” has done well at film festivals. Thus, we recommend both events, and would like to say that “Intruders and Entrails” could serve as a nice subtitle for a film about sex-change.
Wednesday, November 18th
International Education: “The World is Our Campus!”, a program put on by international students and Longwood students who have studied abroad, will be from 1 to 3 p.m. in Lankford Ballroom.
Trangender Awareness: “Safe Zone Ally Training,” a program where those in attendance will become “certified ‘safe zones’ for those of LGBTQ to turn when needed.” 12 p.m. to 2:30 in the C room of the Student Union.
Our Recommendation: Transgender Awareness wins. We’ve got a good feeling about this one.
Thursday, November 19th
International Education: “Negotiating the Second Language Learner in the Classroom,” a program led by Longwood professor Don Butler and visiting professor Xiaohong (Julia) Zhu. They will discuss “relationship dynamics and communication strategies in the multicultural classroom.” This will go down at the Prince Edward Room in Blackwell Hall at — ouch– 10 a.m.
Transgender Awareness: “A Day in the Life….” which is described as “[...] a Transgender open forum that will consist of a panel of four transgender [sic] indviduals,” will take place from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m. at the Molnar Recital Hall in Wygal.
Our Recommendation: Transgender Awarness wins for picking a reasonable hour of the day to hold an event.
I never went to college — but I do know a thing or two about good pranks. Probably the best was when I was writing features for this bush-league bi-weekly outside of Houston. One night, an hour before deadline, my editor, a big-boned rodeo cow-girl, threatened to spike my story unless I revised the final paragraph, which she considered verbose: ”It’s jus’ too word-y — yeeknow?”
She was wrong, and I calmly explained that to her. But, of course, she didn’t understand. It was just the two of us in the office that night, arguing and arguing away valuable hours we could have been using to suck back a few at the tavern.
Did I get mad? Yes. Did I acquiesce? Hell no.
Instead of revising, I waited until she went to the bathroom and then quickly pushed a file cabinet against the door, trapping her inside long enough for my story to get printed, unfettered by my cow-wrangling editor, who, as it were, dislocated her shoulder trying to escape.
What a lark! That, kids, is a grade A, big-dick prank. If only the Houston Police Department had thought the same.
Zack entered his final semester of college knowing it would probably be a stressful one. As the first few weeks passed, as he spent more and more time secluded in the library, whittling away at this bastard of a course load, he could console himself with the thought of crossing the stage in May. That was a long ways away, though. Of more immediate relief was the weekend, and all the revelry it entailed:
This photo of Zack was taken at a Sunchase party on Friday, January 23rd. According the partygoer who took the photo: “I pointed the camera at him and said ‘Hey, smile.’”
The photo was posted on Facebook Sunday evening. For someone in the midst of a turbulent semester, Zack looked to be quite the happy drunk — his head half-cocked, his mustache patchy, his smile dashing. All things considered, life was good.
And it would have stayed this way, had it not been for a few bored students who saw the picture that Sunday night and found that they could not look away from it, seeing in this photo a certain something, a sort of sublime subtext.
They printed out the photo and made fifty copies at the library. That night, they proceeded to distribute them throughout campus — Wheeler, Hiner, Curry, Frazer, Wygal. As they went about their campaign, Zack finished studying for his Monday classes and went to bed early.
Not surprisingly, Zack’s initial reaction was “total confusion and general anger.” Tests and quizes — these were things you could prepare for. How do you prepare for something like this? As he recounted: ”What made it worse is that at first I couldn’t figure out who did it. I will admit to having ‘special’ friends, but this was a bit more weird than that.”
Zack appealed to his so-called friends, trying to find out who the hell was responsible. Their responses were vague, unhelpful, and a little on the giddy side. By now, everyone knew what was going on — and they weren’t about to tell Zack. Frustrated, he untagged himself from the photo on Facebook, and hoped that that would be the end of it.
Monday night, a new batch of photocopies were distributed. This time, they were placed in toilet stalls and slid under the doors of professors’ offices. By Wednesday, people were asking Zack what was going on — even people he didn’t know: ”People were asking me ‘why is your picture taped to the ceiling above the stalls in the women’s bathroom in the Rotunda?’”
Worse, he had no idea what would happen next. ”It got to be just something that you live with,” Zack said. He went compared the experience to a bout with cancer: ”It’s there, doing its thing, and probably isn’t going anywhere. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a course of treatment for this issues, so it just played out.”
And how! Things took a turn for the surreal on Thursday night — when, after a pleasant evening at the bar, Zack returned to his apartment, logged onto Facebook, and saw this:

His life had turned into a movie directed by the love child of David Lynch and Alfred Hitchcock.
Online, Zack was being asked to explain, once again, what the hell was going on. And, once again, he had no clue. What had he done to deserve this? After cursing at his room mate and demanding an explanation — the room mate played dumb — Zack changed his status to “I’m just as confused as everyone else,” took a shot of José Cuervo, and went to bed.
And that was how Zack became the face Longwood. After the Facebook incident, life got a little more normal. The picture stopped popping up in random places, for the most part. There was, of course, the time it made a startling appearance on a birthday cake for one of his friend’s twenty first birthday party. By then, though, Zack had already found out who was behind the prank. He could now go back to devoting all of his stress toward schoolwork, instead of the demonic whims of his bored friends.
Zack made it through the semester with his mind intact. He has very little bitterness about the whole ordeal. Looking back, he describes the experience as enriching, an indelible final impression of his time spent at Longwood.
“It’s not at every college,” he said, “that you can have your picture put up everywhere and have people stop and ask ‘Are you THAT guy?’”