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As I finish up my fourth year
of college and head into graduation, I ponder all the lessons
I've learned and all the important experiences I've had during
these years. I've made great friends and I hope to continue
these friendships for the rest of my life. College for me
was a time of self-exploration and soul-searching, but in
the end, I really and truly should have banged more chicks.
I attended Randolph-Macon College, a small liberal arts college
in tiny Ashland, Virginia. The great thing about going to
school with gorgeous southern girls is that they have been
so repressed their whole lives, that when they go to college,
they really want to let loose. I should have taken advantage
of that, but I guess that's why we have lifelong regrets.
Freshman year was a wild time of drinking and wild parties
and neglecting studies -- except for me. I made Freshman Dean's
List and I recall my parents were very proud. While the rest
of the guys in my dorm were taking advantage of the fact that
these nubile young girls were away from home for the first
time, I was sweet talking my professor for some extra credit.
By the way, my professor was a 45-year-old man with a graying
beard and a traveling backgammon set. Sure, now I realize
my mistake.
By sophomore year, I had established a solid reputation as
a nice guy who couldn't get laid with a jug of roofies and
a brand new Justin Timberlake haircut. I have warm memories
of the times the girls were piss drunk and just lying there
next to me, telling me how sweet I was, while I happily answered
all their questions on performing the perfect blowjob. My
roommates all really appreciated that and thanked me often
during the next year and a half.
Another thing I learned in college is that our school has
the highest per-capita population of coke sluts in the United
States. I suppose I regret I spent my Sophomore year heading
up the school's anti-drug campaign. What the fuck was I thinking?
I thought I could reverse course when I joined a fraternity,
but then a month later, our chapter was unceremoniously kicked
off campus before we could have one of those parties I've
seen in Hollywood movies. No toga, no greek orgy, no passed
out 16-year-old townie drooling incoherently in my bed.
As graduation comes and goes I will be reminded of all the
attractive girls I never slept with. I will be reminded of
missed opportunities and four years I will never be able to
get back. I won't have the memories of crazy group sex or
spontaneous handjobs to help my marriage along during those
difficult years when she's old and as barren as the Gobi desert.
So to all of those entering the world of college, store your
memories well. You will need some boner fuel for later in
your life. After all, Jeremy Bentham’s contribution to
political philosophy will not help me when I’m forty
and trying to find my fatass wife attractive.
Now I'm about to finally enter the real world. The real world
of paying rent, spending hard earned money on women and still
not getting laid. It's gonna take a hell of a lot more than
a 50 cent plastic cup of Milwaukee's Best to get some nooky.
It's a world of few parties, fewer hot tubs, and roofie cocktails
are somewhat frowned upon. That's not a world I want to live
in.
The college years are the best years of your life. Don't
waste 'em.
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