EDITORIAL: University provides many unexpected adventures

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Hello. I’m here to tell you about my typical day at UW-Eau Claire.

I first arrive at college in the wee hours of the morning. Early classes allow me to watch the sun’s rays filter through thousands of square miles of pollution and poisonous gas. It sure is a beautiful sight.

The feeling of my skin baking due to a lack of ozone is as soothing as a long shower or massage.

My fibrous diet allows me to have a sit-down session in the university’s deluxe and accommodating rest rooms. The poetry scattered on the walls is a shade of Whitman or Poe, for sure.

The soothing, flickering fluorescent lights compel me to sleep, ah, but not this restless spirit. I go on to use the toilet paper, or better stated as the 20-grit sand paper, contained in those weird round dispenser covers that make quick retrieval impossible. I’m glad the toilet paper is protected, lord knows what some evil spirit might do to it if it were vulnerable.

Class is as soothing as a double-latte after a slight concussion. An endless stream of words flow out of professors’ mouths trying to attach themselves to my comrades and me; thank God we can resist.

Today is a novelty for I have to buy another book for one of my classes. Looks like the three volumes of assigned text just weren’t quite enough. That means I get to stroll on down to the bookstore. But before I can enter its pearly gates, I have to check my book bag. It’s no wonder they take this security check so seriously. I’d be apprehensive of thieves, too, if I overcharged every single item in stock.

It’s cheaper to process self-harvested trees into paper than to buy one of the notebooks. After paying my soul for a book, I decide to explore its contents in the library.

The library is an impressive five-story superstructure. But dubious in the fact that such a massive complex only houses seven books.

I venture forth, as hungry for knowledge as a cannibal is for human flesh. After thoroughly digesting the text I bought about the dung beetle, I find it is time to go.

But wait, more checkpoints. It seems that stealing books might be high on the priority list of fellow students. Their erudition is as impressive as their thirst for more. I get to walk through 10 yards of noxious, radioactive waves that multiply your age with their concentration. On my way home my dentures fall out as I notice that I’m bald, wearing a Grateful Dead shirt that I don’t remember purchasing and am hopping into my van-home that I don’t remember having bought. It is at this point that the truth ossifies, I have been transformed into the image of UW-Eau Claire.

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