Dorms, Why I Hate Them
1. The showers are hairy & disgusting
2. The R.A.s would like me to like in a bland, white box devoid of all pictures, color, etc.
3. Everything is a fire hazard even though East has never experienced a fire….hmm?
4. There’s no wireless internet. If coffeeshops can manage wireless, you can too. You cheap, heartless bastards
5. I can’t yell or throw things without repercussions. I can’t even cry loudly without causing some sort of a scene. You must save all loud crying sessions for shower time, which I don’t recommend because that would involve having your mouth open in the hair-infested death pit that we must wash ourselves in
6. Everything is illegal.
7. As soon as you try to do something important, something is really funny to EVERYONE in the rooms around you.
8. To do a load of laundry costs $3. That’s completely ridiculous. The power & water can not total to $3 after one load of laundry. Fucking gypsy whores.
9. I’m paranoid about changing because we don’t have curtains and everyone can plainly see what the fuck I’m doing because guess what? The shitty ass blinds in here don’t work. And guess what is illegal (hint: the answer is not “everything” in this situation)?
Curtains.
10. Apparently, you can’t have the word “cock” written on your door.
Appalachian State University: East Hall sucks & I hope that all the fire hazards do one day burn this motherfucker down, preferably over the summer or some holiday. I’m not big on hurting people. :/
RapeX is a female condom with barbs on the inside worn to prevent rape. For people at low risk of rape, this is the craziest idea ever, perhaps. However, for women in 3rd world countries where rape is not uncommon, this could prove very useful.
Also, once attached to a penis, it must be surgically removed. AWESOME.
So I decided to try to eat my weight in food tonight for some reason. I, myself, would most likely find it amusing if I were the cashier. However, my cashier was an endless pit of hatred and judgement. She said, “Wow. That’s a lot of food.” Then I tried to respond with: “No, this is beyond a lot. This is ridiculous!” However, this stankin’ bitch interrupted me by telling me I needed to weigh my fruit. Then she proceeded to full on judge me with the bitchiest possible glare in the history of humanity (probably). I soon realized this glare was a “fatass, you need to pay,” glare.
Dear cute boys in sweaters,
I know all about your plan. You want me to think you’re cute & cuddly, even snuggly. Well, it wont work. It wont!…maybe a little
This is all,
Me
The rain set early in tonight,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
and did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And spread, o’er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring how she loved me—she
Too weak, for all her heart’s endeavor,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me forever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could tonight’s gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria worshiped me: surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria’s love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
called him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
while thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain-
To thy high requiem become a sod.
