Codependent Collegian

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

LaSoto reeling from the lack of Beer Pong, shower sex

(Lexington, KY)—Veronica LaSoto, a junior at the University of Kentucky, has discovered that her life back in the suburbs lacks the constant unpredictability and excitement of dorm life, and she “can’t freaking wait” for the fall semester to begin.

Until then, it seems, LaSoto is destined to spend her summer working at a local Starbucks and enduring Taco Night every Wednesday with her parents at El Burrito Grande.

“I thought coming home would be great — see some old high school friends, go to the beach every weekend, you know,” LaSoto vented. “Instead, all my friends have kids now, I make chi lattes nine hours a day, and pass out on the couch every night watching Seinfeld reruns while my parents screw their fat brains out upstairs. Oh God, I want to hang myself.”

LaSoto whimsically reflected on the constant exuberance of dorm living.

“What I would give for just one Topless Tuesday, or Thirsty Thursday, or Strip-Poker Sunday right now,” LaSoto lamented. “By the time I get back on campus, I’m gonna be so sober and sex-starved, I might even hook up with Nate [Meister, campus prankster and habitual man-whore]. And I’m pretty sure he has herpes.”

Labels: college, dorm life, summer vacation

A Codependent Collegian Guest Editorial by Marc Thompson

Thompson navigates another wrong building

This isn’t supposed to happen on the second day of class. I mean, I got up early this morning, had two cups of coffee—hell, I even showered—and was totally psyched for my Intro to Sociology class. (I hear Professor Mischaw is a total fox!)

And now here I am, lost in the middle of Georgia Tech’s big-ass campus, with no fucking clue where HUM 309 is.


But really, the problem isn’t being lost. I get lost all the time. When Dave [Baxter, close high school friend] and I went to see Tom Petty in July, we spent two hours trying to find the freeway out of Atlanta. Granted, we had smoked an entire ounce of Maui Wowie in a Coke can bong, but still, the directions we got from that gypsy chick selling hemp necklaces were truly substandard. I’m digressing, but you get my point—these things happen.

Left: Hostile, shark-like classmates just waiting to strike

The real issue is that I now have to walk into a lecture hall 28…make that 29 goddamn minutes late, looking like a jackass in front of a zillion other people. With my luck, the only seat open will be next to some blonde goddess with an incredible rack, and my hard-on will make an audible clack on the underside of my desk.

And I’m glad that Georgia Tech hired Haseem here as their only work-study student at the campus information counter. This guy has the IQ of a porn star, and speaks less English than my great aunt Mabel, whose Alzheimer’s is so bad she shits in her wheelchair.

So if you see me wandering about campus, help a brother out. Just get me to the right building, and I’ll make it worth your while—there’s a frozen pizza and half a joint back in my dorm room with your name on it.

Labels: campuses, college, Georgia Tech, lost students