Health Services Only Prescribes Tylenol

Sometimes I feel like Health Services doesn’t exist in the human realm. Every time that I walk through their uselessly heavy doors, I feel myself being transported to another universe. One where, presumably, the definition of what constitutes “helpful medical advice” are far laxer.

I visited Health Services this week because I had body aches, a headache, a sore throat, and nausea. The doctor that came into see me asked if I had tried taking Tylenol. “Yeah, a couple hours earlier, but it didn’t really help,” I mustered, millions of viral particles exploding from my orifices with every syllable. She looked me up and down, a pensive glint in her eye, and said “Well, you know what, taking Tylenol is probably the only thing you can really do right now. Oh, and drink more water.” With this sage advice, I was ushered out — a few disposable thermometers thrust into my hand, the door slamming behind me.

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Incognito man is watching you

Stalking Period

Incognito man is watching youBecause I’m a Banner demigod, I have absolutely no classes on Friday (yeah, that’s right, be jealous). But rather than sleep in or nurse a hangover, I decided to take the ultimate shopping trip: find a random person, go with them to class, repeat.

Here are the field notes, observations, and petty rants of shopping period.

9-9:50: ECON0110, Principles of Economics

8:59: Oh, freshmen. They’re still eagerly introducing themselves. Hi Carol and Jack! I remember doing that a year ago way back when. Now I bolt for the nearest spot open next to someone I vaguely know.

9:02: First thing the professor asks: “Who wasn’t here Wednesday?” She’s onto me.

9:04: Content of computer screens in the third row: MS Word, MS Word, MS Word, Spotify, Facebook, MS Word, Stickies, Gmail.

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FlogDailyHerald: Faulty Street Lamp Edition

It’s a familiar scenario: it’s late at night and you’re walking home. You want to get there as fast as you can to get to sleep and out of the cold. Even though you know that a yellow-jacketed security guard is probably waiting right around the corner, crime alert emails and stories of rogue masturbators can’t help but fill your mind. Then you walk by the MCM building, and the streetlight turns off as you pass. Creepy, right?

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