There are things in this world...That I don't understand.

In college, there is an overabundance of down time. Particularly in the dorm life.

If you are picturing a-bun-dancing right now...we are on the same page.

Sorry that was cheap word play. I'm really Punny.

K promise that was the last one.

Anyway, after living in the dorms for what feels like 6 years, I've concluded there are several types of people that find ways to pass times in our luxurious, lavish living areas.

One of these kind of people are the people who live across the hall from me. I am convinced they live off of Tang and Assasins Creed. Except for one time, the kid across the hall told me all about this one time he played beer pong mixed with tang and it was "totally disgusting dude!"

My response to this was, "Get out of my dorm room. You smell like a sweaty Xbox controller."

The other night I was in my living room watching a Blazers game on a Thursday night, right after practice. I like to call this "me" time.

The kids across the call like to call this "It's almost Friday, which is almost the weekend, which means LETS GET DRUNK time."

One of the kids across the hall came in, obnoxiously drunk, accusing me of stealing his beer.

"Dude...they...dude...they told me YOU STOLED IT! Where is it? Where is my...beer...dude...you stoled it!"

(Before I could muster up a response worthy of his intellect.)

"I like your haircut. Sean...I like your haircut!"

He became very easily distracted, I told him there is a shiny object in the hallway, he turned around and out of the room like a kid with ADHD trying to catch snowflakes in a blizzard.

Point: Sean.

I locked the door as to not deal with him the rest of the night.

Silly me.

Five minutes later, I hear a rhythmic banging on my door, only to realize it is my drunken hall-mate, sitting at the foot of my door, facing away from the room, banging the back of his head on the wall of my dorm room. Over, and over and over, repeating the words:

"SEAAAN!!! I LIKE YOUR HAIRCUT! SEAN! I LIKE YOUR HAIRCUT! YOU GOT A HAIRCUT! I LIKE IT!"

Eventually, the sound stopped, and I assumed he either gave up, or went to bed.

Turns out he did both, right in the middle of the hallway, directly in front of my living room, in a puddle of his own drool.

As i stepped over his hung over head, with a trashbag in hand, I was ready to toss him in it. Instead, I took the high road, smiled, looked down at him and said, "Good for you!"

Good for you.

About a week later, he and his suitemates find that they are evidently now welcome to walk into my room whenever they want, only to ask the same question EVERY TIME.

The door opens, without a knock, they walk in, stare at me for a second, then ask me if Ryan or Dustin (my suitemates) are here.

Cuz they couldn't walk ten feet to figure out themselves.

And they wouldnt wanna be rude by, say, not knocking.

Then, yesterday, I was just hanging out, watching some T.V. eating some cereal, and another kid from across the hall barges into my living room, stares at me for a good 5 seconds. Stares at the TV for another 10 seconds. Then looks back at me and says:

"Hey man. What are you eating?"

Cereal. What the hell does it look like. It's cereal.

"Dude...that looks REALLY good."

"Yeah its this new thing. It's milk. And Grape Nuts. Thanks?"

Yeah man. Thats cool dude. So is Ryan here?

Instead of responding to his question like a normal person, I actually closed my eyes, held my breath, thought about how much I despise him and his suitemates, and I actually just blew up right there.

Like literally, spontaneously combusted, into flames, on the spot. Like that one incubus song.

Now there's a hole burned in my couch, but at least I don't have to listen to the Tang Kids bullshit anymore.

P.S. If I hear another South Park line, I am going to shoot my dick off.


Happy Thanksgiving.


Bah Humbug.