Codependent Collegian

Left: Scene of musical mimicry

(Ann Arbor, MI) Sophomore engineering student Tre Minnick remembers clearly the moment his roommate, Kyle Breckenridge, made musical history.

"I was watching TV when Kyle let out this gut-wrenching howl, and I knew right then he was onto something," the University of Michigan recalled. "When he hollered the second time I recognized that constipated growl: it was none other than Chad Kroeger, the lead singer from Nickelback."

Minnick said that Breckenridge has been trying to duplicate the feat ever since his first foray into impersonation, but that recent attempts "fall a little short of the mark."

"Kyle ate nothing but cheese for three straight days to recreate his earlier bowel cloggery," he said. "And he was good and constipated, but his screams pushing out that intestinal cement were more like a kitten in a rat trap than like Chad Kroeger from Nickelback. Still pretty cool, though."

Is Metamucil in Kroeger's future?

Minnick said that Nickelback's Kroeger might have physical problems beyond his "cheese chunks."

"The poor guy is gasping like a landed flounder half the time," he said. "I think Chad's caught, like, some kind of weird STD from all those cocks he's been sucking, and maybe the gonnorhea has slid down and infected his vocal cords. I got backstage tickets at their Detroit show, and Chad Kroeger was all over me like a hobo on a hotdog, slobbering down my cock within two minutes of me getting there. That, plus Chad being constipated, of course. Maybe if Kyle sucked as many cocks as Chad Kroeger he could get that sound just right."

Labels: Chad Kroeger, constipation, gonnorhea, Nickelback

Subcomandante Bob knows most of you are a bunch of lazy, good-for-nothing slobs who would rather get something for free than to actually work for it.

Well, maybe Bob is really just describing himself here, but you have to admit that getting a great deal beats paying full price for items, right?

Be sure to check out bid4prizes.com, where the person with the lowest bid wins the prize. You just register, and you can start bidding on prizes like the Samsung 50" Plasma Televison that has been calling out to Bob.

Bob would sit in front of his Sony Home Theater for about three straight weeks watching his favorite programs if he won. Of course, since Bob lives in Toledo's Cherry Street Mission homeless facility, he would have to share the 50" Plasma Television with fellow residents, many of whom have less-than-ideal personal hygiene, but he could watch American Idol on a screen so big it would be like he was sitting right next to Paula Abdul and looking right down her low-cut blouse.

So start thinking about what that lowest bid will be, and get bidding!

(Sault Ste. Marie, MI) Josh Yardlee, a sophomore living in Lake Superior State's Moloney Hall, has a confession to make.

"Yes, it's true - I piss right in the shower. So what?" he asked Codependent Collegian reporters. "I pay these outrageous dorm fees, on time, so I ought to be entitled to a few liberties."

Yardlee said that the concern expressed by his roommates over his affinity for "tub tinkling" is unfounded.

"Listen - in cases of urinary tract infection, the urine will contain bacteria, but otherwise urine is sterile and nearly odorless when it leaves the body," he asserted. "Urine has also been used as an antiseptic. In times of war, when other antiseptics were unavailable, urine was used on open wounds to kill bacteria. So, [roommates] Kevin and Pete can just bite me."

Left: Yardlee believes his shower piss should be the least of peoples' septic worries

Yardlee also went on the offensive about "disgusting habits" exhibited by those with whom he dorms.

"As far as Kevin goes, I just have two words: SKID MARKS," he said of the suspicious stains on his roommate's underwear. "And with all the spooge Pete is pumping in the shower with his plank-spanking, he is hardly in a position to criticize me."

Labels: downstream, shower

Subcomandante Bob knows that many of you are desire to tap into the emerging markets and media involved with the Internet. To do so, though, you need a quality web host like SuperWebhost to help you succeed in eCommerce.

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Best of all, SuperWebHost.com researches, develops, and maintains their own system infrastructure and software, so you are not held hostage by some third-party, outsourced contractor.

Finally, if you are not satisfied with the hosting service for any reason and wish to leave within your first 30 days, just let SuperWebHost.com know and they will refund your money. THAT is an iron-clad guarantee, and Subcomandante Bob gives a hearty two thumbs up to SuperWebHost.com

Labels: SuperWebHost.com, web hosting

A Guest Editorial by Chaz Wonalecker,
State University of New York freshman

Chaz: The most gangsta Economics major in Buffalo, straight up

Yo yo yo. This is The Chaz here, so shut the fuck up and listen to whats I got to say, ‘cause it be like, mad socially relevant. Word.

Some bitches--who will remain nameless *cough* Stacy Franklen *cough*--be thinkin’ that brothas up on this campus go too far when they spit they game, and in fact, might be date rapin’, which be a serious mothafuckin’ crime.

But I be here to set the record straight: when you gets a girl alone in a laundry room, or dorm shower, or one of them maintenance buildings they gots all over campus, and she’s had so many daiquiris that she about to be a puke volcano, and gots no idea how many inches she about to take in her front-butt, that ain’t no date rape, son. That’s just good, ol’ fashioned mackage.

See, the problem is this: there ain’t no such thing as date rape. What there is, though, is some weepy-ass sophomore wakin’ up the next morning bowlegged and hungover, getting’ all contemplative on a nigga after she talk to her girlfriends about the night previous. In economics, this be what we call ‘buyer’s remorse.’

There’s an easy way to solve this shit. Have the bitch calm the fuck down, talk with the playa, and takes a ride to the clinic. Afterwards, they can gets a slurpee, hug, and my boy can slip a few twenties in the bitch’s purse just to be, like, easin’ her emotional state.

So the next time you see a thug gettin’ his mack on, don’t be hatin’. Cause there ain’t no such thing as date rape—it just be smooth-ass persuasion.

Labels: date rape, economics, mackin, SUNY

Subcomandante Bob knows from personal experience just how tough it is to decide to seek the help of a drug treatment program. Moreover, the particular needs of women make finding the right drug treatment program even more difficult for females facing addiction issues.

The Orchid Recovery Center for Women is a unique alcohol and drug treatment center designed just for women. The Orchid takes a comprehensive view of healing, and therefore stresses the need for complementary holistic drug addiction and alcoholism recovery therapies in order to enhance the process of recovery.

The Orchid is intended as a rehab center for holistic women's healing. Women at The Orchid begin a healing process that builds on a profound sense of community, with mutuality and compassion as vital elements of therapeutic enlightenment.

Labels: drug treatment program

(Ann Arbor, MI) By all accounts Lindsay Toussaint is a "great person" who gets along with everyone, said Terrance Reeger.

"I mean, she likes awesome music, manages a busy work and social life, and cleans up after herself," Reeger admitted.

Unfortunately, Toussaint is openly lesbian, and that fact has Reeger worried for her roommates, especially his girlfriend Katie Putnam.

"I didn't think anything about it until I saw Katie and her hug just before Lindsay got on the train to go home for the summer," he recalled. "There was something, well, just too gay about the way them held on to each other. I was really uncomfortable."

Reeger said that there have been "way too many times" Lindsay was demonstrably affectionate with Katie this school year.

"One time I came over and they were lying on the floor watching TV, and their feet were, like, almost touching and stuff," he said, visibly agitated at the memory. "It wasn't like they were playing footsie, but I was getting the vibe that I just walked in on some kind of lesbian foot-game."

Lesbian Lindsay, second from right, probably getting eight kinds of horny during this picture with dorm roommates

Reeger said that his "worst fear" is that Lindsay will turn his girlfriend into a lesbian.

"Look - I know it's not contagious or anything. At least I hope not," he noted. "Still, anything can happen after a person gets a little tipsy, like if somebody's gay friend was alone with him in the garage when they were supposed to be working on changing a starter on his '88 Mustang and they ended up having this wild man-on-man sex in the back seat of the car, hot sweat in the August afternoon after a couple of beers, tasting another man's salty balls and jizz and that person thinks about that afternoon forever. I'm just saying, right?"

Labels: dykes, jizz, lesbians, University of Michigan

Subcomandante Bob is without a doubt the world's biggest fan of The Police. In fact, he is such a gigantic Police fan that there are still outstanding restraining order against him in several jurisdictions for conduct unbecoming a normal Police fan.

Sorry about digging through your garbage cans like that, Sting.

Anyways, The Police are getting together for an incredible reunion tour this summer, and they are releasing a new compilation Police CD that features 28 of their best songs in a 2-disc set. If Bob is unable to procure said compact disc in a fully legal and morally acceptable manner, he may have to resort to hijacking the incoming mail at the local radio stations to commandeer a promotional copy.

Here, for your consideration, are the tracks on the upcoming new Police CD, which is titled, simply enough, The Police:

Track Listings
Disc: 1
1. Fallout
2. Can't Stand Losing You
3. Next to You
4. Roxanne
5. Truth Hits Everybody
6. Hole in My Life
7. So Lonely
8. Message in a Bottle
9. Reggatta de Blanc
10. Bring on the Night
11. Walking on the Moon
12. Don't Stand So Close to Me
13. Driven to Tears
14. Canary in a Coalmine

Disc: 2
1. Do Do Do de da da Da
2. Voices Inside My Head
3. Invisible Sun
4. Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic
5. Spirits in the Material World
6. Demolition Man
7. Every Breath You Take
8. Synchronicity I
9. Wrapped Around Your Finger
10. Walking in Your Footsteps
11. Synchronicity II
12. King of Pain
13. Murder by Numbers
14. Tea in the Sahara

Bob hopes that his new psychotropic combination of Thorazine and Lithium will prevent a recurrence of the crazed fan behavior he exhibited the last time The Police played Madison Square Garden. Without getting into too much detail, the event involved three feral cats, a hooker named Peggy, and eleven cans of whole peaches in their natural juices.

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

The fridge in 309: Nastier than a dead hooker’s crusty panties

(Tuscon, AZ)—In their exultation at the completion of final exams, the Arizona State University residents of Bower Dormitory room 309 seemed to have forgotten one critical detail: they had to clean up after themselves before they could move back home for the summer.

And no single object elicited more abject horror than their rank dormitory refrigerator, which was so foul and odious that it warranted comparison to “a walrus corpse covered in giraffe shit rotting in the zoo's dumpster.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if we could identify what the hell was in there,” explained Frank Watson, a sophomore majoring in engineering. “There’s some peace of mind in that, when you can say ‘oh, it’s that leftover lasagna from November that smells so bad.’ But here, everything’s a mystery. I don’t even know what half these goddamn condiment jars are—is it relish? Red beets? Ground up alien testicles? Beats the fuck outa me, dude.”

Freshman roommate Rich Oppenheimer appeared even more sickened by the situation, and chose to view the refrigerator's symbolism in religious terms.

“Man, this is what we get for skipping church for nine months, drinking every night, and living off frozen pizza,” Oppenheimer bemoaned. “This fridge is nothing short of divine retribution. And I know it’s gonna be me, because I’m the only freshman, and I'll be the one who has to crawl in there with a bucket of bleach and gag my way to redemption. Lord help us all.”

Labels: Arizona State University, foul odor, fridge, refrigerator

Nickelback: banal, talentless, and possibly deadly

(Tallahassee, FL) A 19-year-old FSU freshman died Friday in a tragic accident related to the incessant playing of the Nickelback song "How You Remind Me." Scott Yeagher, a business major, suffered massive head trauma from damage caused by his roommate's obsession with the 2001 hit by the Canadian pop rock band.

"I had just broken up with my girlfriend, and this was our song," said a grieving Jacob Kelleher, Yeagher's roommate. "I saw Scott kind of moaning on his bed, but I just figured he was hung over or something. I would have never played that song if I'd known how dangerous it can be."

This is the ninth Nickelback-related brain trauma in the past two years that the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) have been tracking the phenomenon. CDC spokesperson Dr. Patricia Burkhardt said that scientists believe the band's derivative, formulaic music causes dangerous blood clots to form, leading to embolisms and strokes.

"This is music so awful that the red blood cells simply give up and die, clotting together and forming deadly masses of embolic material leading in some cases to sudden ischemic stroke," she said. "Quite simply, Nickelback is a band so bereft of redeeming qualities that even celular-level functions can be harmed by repeated exposure to this horrid noise."

CT scan of Yeagher's brain after Nickelback-induced embolism

Kelleher recalled his roommate's last moments of consciousness.

"The dude was crawling... CRAWLING to me, outstretched hand motioning to me, with a look of utter horror on his face," he sobbed. "May God forgive me for not recognizing Scott was going into a Nickelback coma from which he would never return, and may God forever damn the twits in this shitty band for making music so destructive to life functions."

Labels: Cerebral embolism, Nickelback

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Guest editorial by Dr. Lorraine Worley, psychologist and counselor

You were just trying to prove your point, commenting on a political bulletin board or someone's MySpace site, when it happened.

You got your ass viciously beaten by some trolling thug on the Internet.

The most important thing to remember is this: it's not your fault. No one deserves to get an Internet ass-beating, no matter how stupid their argument was.

Here are some suggestions on how to rebuild your life after a serious Internet bitch-slapping:

Embrace your pain: Initially, most Internet smackdown victims react with shock and disbelief. You may feel dazed, numbed, withdrawn and/or distant from other people. You may even want to cancel your Internet service. You may want to forget about what happened and avoid people or situations that remind you of the beatdown, but it is important to come to terms with your pain.

Handling flashbacks: There may also be times when you are preoccupied with thoughts and feelings about the virtual throttling. You may have unwanted memories, flashbacks, or nightmares about being handed your ass by some anonymous poster. This is completely normal.

Physical responses: Some Web curb-stomping victims have physical symptoms, such as sleep disturbance, headaches, and stomachaches. You may find that it is very difficult to concentrate on routine activities. You may also notice changes in your sexuality, such as a loss of interest in sex, avoidance of sexual situations, or a complete change in sexual orientation. It is important to remember that you are not alone.

Immediately after the ass-kicking: Go home, bathe, rest and recover with the love, support and acceptance of people who care. The worst thing you can do is keep this to yourself!

Aftercare: Seek counseling and support for dealing with the feelings of anger, rage, or inferiority that may arise weeks, months, or years later. Victims of Internet shellackings need professional therapy in order to re-emerge on the Web as healthy, well-adjusted contributors to virtual discourse.

The beautiful Mirelly Taylor

Subcomandante Bob has long been in love with with the beautiful and intelligent actress Mirelly Taylor. After seeing her play Sahira in Beyond Honor, Bob thinks he fell in love.

GoFish.com is running an interesting contest that allows you to win a date with Mirelly, also known for her television work on "Punk’d", "Las Vegas" and "Numb3rs," plus the motion pictures Kiss Me Again and Serving Sara. If you love Mirelly as much as Bob does, you should watch "Seduce a Celeb" on GoFish.com over the next 14 weeks.

You can check out the hilarious video submissions at GoFish now. Those who dream of dating Mirelly should also check out her clips at GoFish.com to find out clues about what she likes in men. The next step is to produce your own video in which you try to "seduce" Mirelly with your handsomeness, humor, or hunkish build.

If you don't want to date Mirelly, because of a love affair with another starlet - or a probation officer who won't let you leave the state - you can still participate in the voting. Visitors will choose the finalists for the contest out of the thousands of video submissions, and then Mirelly will make the final choice on who she is going to date.

One of the goofiest of the videos Bob has so far viewed has been "Vladimir Dances Like it's 1992," which is sort of a cross between the Festrunk Brothers and Vanilla Ice:



And now a quick plug for GoFish.com: there are tons of free videos at GoFish.com, which is a site designed to help people put their videos in front of the world, as well as helping those with a little too much time on their hands find awesome videos to watch.

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

Left: Davison's spotty profile

(Omaha, NE)—University of Nebraska junior Holly Davison has been the “quiet, intellectual type” her entire academic career, suffering from acne in solitude while her peers party, pull pranks, and drunkenly cheer for their beloved Huskers any given Saturday.

However, Davison decided to do away with her old image this fall, and has reinvented herself as Nebraska’s newest slut as a means to overcome her blotchy complexion.

“She’s got a great body and personality, but bro, those zits make her so ugly she has to beat her feet to go to bed with her,” recalled Zach ‘Attack’ Gibbons, a leading member of the Pi Gamma Mu fraternity. “I couldn’t help myself last Friday though—she was all over me after two beers, and whispered some of the nastiest shit I’ve ever heard. Next morning I had to Google ‘Indian Teabag’ to see if it was legal. I’ll say this: it shouldn’t be.”

Not surprisingly, Gibbons is only one of a growing number of students who have been at the precarious crossroads between sexual intrigue and dermatological repulsion with Davison’s blatant advances.

“Yeah, I bagged that Davison chick — twice in the same night,” reflected Jon Michaels, a backup javelin thrower on the Huskers outdoor track team. “I dribbled a pearl necklace all around those neck zits of hers, too…there’s a picture on [roommate] Carl’s MySpace page, if you want to check it out.”

Left: If you've got a pulse, you're golden, dude

And while many of Davison’s most intimate associates have expressed concern about her newfound promiscuity, only time will tell if she will abandon such wanton behavior.

“I brought it up — you know, how she’s fucking everybody on campus now — when we were studying last Tuesday,” recollected Sarah Hopkins, a close friend. “But then she tried to kiss me. It was gross - full tongue. As soon as I get my panties back, I’m never talking to her again.”

Labels: acne, Nebraska, putting out, zits

Subcomandante Bob knows that here are a ton of rewards programs that offer benefits to consumers who remain loyal to a given merchant. Bob suggests that you check out uTANGO.com, which has one of the coolest rewards programs to appear in the marketplace.

The uTANGO rewards program is a "Life-Stage" plan for singles, engaged and married couples (you have to be married for less than 3 years) that recognizes the true value of a lifetime customer by rewarding long-term personal and consumer loyalty. Members can earn annual cash rewards up to $200 per year, as well as Life-Stage cash rewards of up to $10,000 at 10 years, $100,000 at 20 years and $1 million at 30 years in return for your long-term loyalty.

uTango membership is free, and the program is open to any US residents who are single, engaged, or newlywed (less than three years). Just by signing up you earn an automatic $1,000 in TANGO Bucks. Consumers can earn rewards from the uTANGO rewards program on regular purchases such as electronic from CircuitCity.com or clothing from EddieBauer.com. Your purchases at the 300 popular affiliated online stores earn TANGO Bucks towards cash rewards.

Joining uTANGO is an easy way to earn up to a million bucks for retirement, and there is no better rewards program that pays more for member loyalty. This was a sponsored post, for which Bob is grateful.

Guest Editorial by Chad Pilfer, Georgetown University Class of ‘08

Pilfer: Esteemed scholar, oil activist, potential child murderer

You know, me and my Tau hommies had a bitchin’ Memorial Day weekend planned: buy a coupla forties, hit the clearance racks at Old Navy, and say hello to sweet Virginia Beach to gets our mack on.

But these goddamn gas prices are soaring out of control, and I’m so angry I could choke the fuck out of a small, helpless-ass infant.

Seriously, bro. Here in the nation’s capitol, it’s topped $3 for 87 octane. For you non-college bitches, that’s what we call on the street “the cheap shit.” Can you believe that? I can’t be putting no Iraqi desert mud in my ’99 Accord—not if I want her running right, that is. But with 93 octane almost $3.50 per gallon, I could strangle a toddler wearing footy pajamas with a wire hanger.

The problem is that when gas prices are illin’, it throws a playa’s whole budget all outa whack. Let me give you some examples. You ain’t gonna find these in no economics textbook, but they’ll do. Let’s say you and your bros want to have some fine-lookin’ ladies over to the Tau House. Shorties are ready and willing to spread, too. But you and your hommies only have $31.62 between the four of you, and you gots to get chips, dip, and two cases of Zima. Now imagine that exact scenario with the gas prices as stated above. Nigga, you feelin’ me yet?

In conclusion, this fiasco makes me want to squeeze a baby’s throat so hard it shit itself and died. We needs to come together as a people and like, demand our rights and stuff. Now if you’ll excuse my ass, I gots a biology exam to study for. Holla!

Labels: gas prices, Georgetown University

Subcomandante Bob considers himself blessed for running across PayPerPost, the company that offers bloggers opportunities to earn phat cash through advertising. With PayPerPost, ne'er-do-well bloggers like Bob can get hooked up with lucrative blog advertising that allows them to watch their bank accounts grow.

Well, Bob has a few issues with his affinity for Stolichnaya, but most bloggers watch their bank accounts swell with moolah.

Now PayPerPost offers bloggers a unique chance to win some awesome prizes with its HDTV Tuesdays promotion. Just be an approved blog and be on the lookout for the unannounced opportunities that will offer tantalizing electronic prizes instead of cash. Recent promotions have featured Apple TVs and a PS3, and this week you might land a Slingbox, Nintendo Wii, Yamaha Surround Sound System or a Logitech universal remote.

The prizes, by the way, are being furnished by the kind folks at Bid4Prizes.com. They are a really cool site where the person with the lowest unique bid wins the prize. You just register, and you can start bidding on prizes like the Samsung 50" Plasma Television that has been calling out to Bob.

"Bid for me, Bob," it cooed, seductively promising many hours of consecutive televised bliss. Or maybe that was one of the voices in Bob's head, but the Samsung Plasma Television does kick some serious bootay.

(Baltimore) Researchers at Johns Hopkins University released the results of a study yesterday linking oral sex with an active date calendar, noting that having oral sex with more than six people triples the likelihood that a person will never be alone on a Saturday night.

"We can categorically state that those who regularly perform oral sex have no difficulty whatsoever finding dates," said Wolf Gerken, a spokesman for the research group. "It seems that once words gets around that a man or woman digs getting freaky like that, their social popularity skyrockets."

Gerken said that there are "additional outcomes" associated with a willingness to perform oral sex.

"There is an inverse relationship between paying for dinner and the promise of a hummer," he observed. "And interestingly, the breakdown between sexes is pretty consistent - if your mouth goes south, you are just about assured of more than one free meal."

Left: Oral sex recipients generally quite happy to pay for dinner and drinks

Gerken noted that there is at least one drawback associated with increased rates of oral sex performance that is sometimes overlooked by practitioners.

"It is sometimes difficult to get a goodnight kiss after one of these dates," he admitted, while adding that second dates are "rarely" a problem. "But that is a small price to pay for a 12-ounce filet mignon and a bottle of a decent cabernet sauvignon, am I right?"

Labels: Johns Hopkins, oral sex, popularity

There are a lot of online sites that offer opportunities to win prizes, but most of these are just scams that have one goal: get you to part with your money.

WhoGets.com, though, is a fun site in which the site's visitors determine who wins the prizes. Will you pick the homeless guy like Subcomandante Bob, the hot-looking young coed, or the person who wrote something hilarious about why he should win?

It's all up to you. WhoGets.com, by the way, is completely free with nothing to buy and with no annoying e-mails, ever. This was a sponsored post, for which Bob is very delighted.

Guest editorial by Josh Obelin, Penn State Class of 2009

We took our Geology final last Tuesday, and I know you are a busy person, but could you please - PLEASE - post our fucking grades, Dr. Jorgenson?

I mean, how long does it really take to grade fifty multiple choice tests and put a letter after our names on the university website? It's not like this is 1981, and all you had was a calculator with LED readout.

And since the system is real-time, I think it's pretty crappy that you are waiting until the last possible second to enter our grades. Hell, we even gave you good comments on those stupid evaluation forms - I bubbled in "excellent" for every category, you prick.

So here I sit, ninth straight day, hitting REFRESH every ten minutes, wondering if I passed your goddamned class, while you sit there in your cozy academic home, sipping a latte and taking perverse pleasure in keeping fifty human beings on edge.

And, by the way? I think you should still have to answer emails from us. I have sent you 3-4 emails a day for the past week, and you stopped responding after the first one. And that whole "grades will be in before the university deadline" garbage has to go, too.

Wait a second... DAMMIT! I just hit REFRESH and you STILL haven't posted our grades. I swear to God I'm going to get fifty angry students with pikes, torches, and pitchforks and chase your ass up the bell tower.

Also - can I get a letter of recommendation for the pre-professional program in education? Thanks a lot.

Labels: grades, grading, Penn State

Subcomandante Bob knows from personal experience that there comes a time when many people have to face facts and come to the realization that the partying has become more than a "little problem."

If you or someone you know is considering a drug rehab program, be sure to check out the 1-800-NoDrugs Helpline. This is an organization designed to help drug addicts, alcoholics, chronic relapse victims, and their families find effective drug rehab programs and intervention for alcoholism and drug addiction of the highest quality at no cost.

When drug addiction or alcoholism begins destroying your life, it's time to hop off the party train and get help, Bubba. This was a sponsored post, but Bob hopes you get the help you need.

(Austin, TX) When University of Texas sophomore Elizabeth Grantley purchased her new Verizon cell phone, she thought that the company's much-touted network would provide her with simply an excellent cellular service.

"I had seen the ads, and Verizon seemed like a good deal," she said.

Little did the engineering student know that the Verizon network people would become a "living nightmare."

"I thought it was kind of funny how all those people follow around the cell phone user in the TV spots. That is, until these crazy fuckers started banging on my door at all hours of the night," said Grantley, pointing to a taciturn-looking group of Verizon networkers on her patio. "They just stand there, staring at you like a bunch of mindless robots. Even when you close the curtains, you know that they are still there, silently glaring at you with those empty eyes."

Grantley said that the "creepiness" of the Verizon stalkers caused her to cancel her service, but they continued to follow her around. In desperation, she jumped into her Honda and drove for days into the desert to "ditch" the Verizon mob, winding up at Utah's Canyonlands National Park.

"I pitched my tent, looked around, and saw that I was free from these freaks for the first time in six months," she recalled. "But in the middle of the night, I heard this rustling, and when I peeked out the tent flap there was, like, fifty of those deranged Verizon zombies staring at me. Plus, they ate up two bags of my Doritos."

Left: Coed got more than she bargained for with Verizon's network

Grantley said that her efforts to secure a restraining order against the unwanted technical support team have not paid off.

"I called the cops on them Friday, but all they would do is tell the Verizon bastards to move to the sidewalk," she said, visibly frightened. "And it turns out that 'can-you-hear-me-now' geek is like a lawyer or something, and then cops who responded ended up trading in their Sprint phones for a new Verizon Bluetooth deal. I'm beginning to think that this won’t end until one of us is six feet under."

Labels: Canyonlands, Verizon, Verizon network

Subcomandante Bob knows that you are far too busy to pick up a book, so he is always on the lookout for electronic sources of information. Encyclocentral is a new user-driven encyclopedia that offers original articles on a wide variety of subjects. For example, you can follow this link to find articles on Pets &Animals developed by site visitors.

Or you can go to a specific article like this one on wool that provides information about the sources of wool and how to care for wool. This was a sponsored post.

Left: "Tom," Hufford's new MySpace pal

(Ann Arbor, MI) Paul Hufford admits that he is often "a little behind" cultural trends, and the University of Michigan sophomore was the last person in his dorm to start a MySpace page.

Hufford said that he was "kind of surprised" when his new website had an immediate visitor: a new friend named "Tom."

"It was pretty cool, really, that Tom and I happened to bump into each other by chance," he recalled. "Or maybe it was, like, divine intervention or something. I'm not super religious or anything, but maybe God was telling me something."

Hufford said that he understands why Tom has not gotten back to him right away.

"His MySpace profile says he has 176,283,915 friends, so I'd guess he gets just a few emails!" laughed Hufford. "But seriously, Tom? I've sent you about eight messages, so: Get back to me, dude."

Left: Hufford sending new buddy Tom another email during his Econ class

Still, said Hufford, he has some reservations about the virtual relationship he has built with Tom.

"I have to admit - what if Tom is, like, one of those cybersex freaks who really just wants to get me drunk and seduce me?" he pondered. "I mean, it would really suck if Tom is just after me for my ass, so he can throw me down on the grass and do me like a cheap porn whore. So, Tom? I'm a little creeped out, buddy. Call me."

Labels: MySpace, Tom, University of Michigan

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Left: Frechette's car after being recovered

(Columbus, OH) When Ohio State senior Marc Frechette's 2006 Pontiac Solstice was missing this morning, the business major was crestfallen.

"Every nickel I made the last three years went into the down payment on that car," he said.

Luckily for Frechette, his Pontiac came equipped with OnStar, the world's most comprehensive in-vehicle security, communications, and diagnostics system. Within twenty minutes the OnStar rep notified Frechette that his car was parked at the nearby WalMart.

"I took some boys and some aluminum baseball bats and we found it," he said. "Then we waited for the motherfucker to show up."

OnStar justice for this Columbus man

The young men accosted 26-year-old Kevin Islington of Columbus, who had returned to the parking lot with a shopping cart full of groceries.

"It was awesome - we beat the living shit out of that dude for like 60 seconds before we realized he wasn't driving the Solstice - he had a 1988 Honda," he laughed. "The real perp saw the commotion and split. All I can say is 'Thanks, OnStar!' I got my car back, and got to dish out some street justice, just to the wrong guy. Felt pretty good, though."

Labels: Columbus, OnStar, stolen cars

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

Crenshaw, bewildered and bloated after his third lunch

(Towson, MD)—Towson University sophomore Tyler Crenshaw has never been the most responsible fellow, and according to close friends, is always “bumming a few bucks” for cigarettes, concert tickets, or a tank of gas.

So it came as an immense shock earlier this morning when Crenshaw learned that he had $319.27 left on his dining hall card, which he must spend by the end of final exams this Friday lest it be forfeited to the university.

“I understand why they don’t want college kids to like, get cash off these cards,” Crenshaw pondered while repressing a vicious meatball vlurp. “Parents want their kids to study hard, eat responsibly, and not use their dinner money for dope. A noble thought. But dude, I’ve eaten 13 meals in the past two days, and still have three hundred bucks to go. I might have to get some homeless guys in here just to make a dent in this sucker.”

Crenshaw noted that his “campaign for consumption” has met particular resistance from the cafeteria staff, which is largely comprised of underpaid student workers.

“Man, yesterday this asshole didn’t even charge me for my soda, orange slices, and bag of Fritos,” Crenshaw huffed. “What’s the point in eating all this shit if it doesn’t cost? You know, there are people in other countries, like Darfur, who don’t even have clean drinking water. And this guy wasn’t gonna charge me for my Fritos. This shit is ridiculous.”

Labels: dining dollars, Fritos, Towson University