John Barrett, Columnist
Recently I found myself thinking that nobody really gives half a rat’s anal cavity about the opinion of a college kid, so I decided to sit down and write another opinion article. This one is basically a list of me complaining about some stuff so strap in for some small and unimportant opinions.
- Why is there always blood in the shower’s in Pfeiffer three’s men’s bathroom? Who is bleeding in the shower? Do you need medical attention? If not, please clean up after yourself. That would be swell.
- Why is there a trend of dudes wearing hats made by “Yetti Coolers?” These are the kind of things that make grown people say “Kids these days, am I right?” It’s a cooler company, not an apparel brand. What are you doing? Check yourselves.
- Why is Beyonce not making more music? Who hurt you? Why do you hate us, Beyonce?
- Tequila. Stop drinking it. It makes you cry every single time. It will not be different this time. It will still taste horrendous. You will still throw up. Enough.
- I’m getting really sick of these people who use an entire 20-seat classroom in State Farm to study by themselves. Get out. I want to use that room to study by MYself.
- Why are there not more dogs? President Eric Jensen, Calvin is not enough. You have a responsibility to your University to purchase more dogs. I expected more from you, sir.
- I would like more money. I feel that my Wesleyan experience is being significantly affected by the fact that I have no money.
- I’d like to know how Saga (or “The Commons” if you’re the scrubbiest of scrubs) has gotten away with dishing out marinara sauce that is 53 percent water. Get some Prego, it’s not that hard.
- I have to take a PE class? Why? Is gym now a liberal art? I purposely avoid exercise. Being a potato is my human right.
- Cool Ranch Doritos are nasty. Get them away from me. I don’t even know what they smell like, but it sure as hell isn’t ranch.
This is all I have to complain about. Notice that this list doesn’t include fear that my next meal won’t make it to my table nor does it include fear that I could be the subject of senseless violence due only to the location in which I live. This is because I have nothing of meaning to complain about. People like me love a good complaint. It’s the PTA moms and suburban teenagers of the world who all too commonly lack the ability to contextualize their problems. It’s why the most common response you hear to the question “How are you feeling?” is “I’m SO tired.” People love to relish in how overworked they are or how overcooked their salmon was at dinner last night or how it’s so hard to balance the 92 clubs they’re in with their schoolwork. I get that you’re tired. But you have nothing to complain about. Here’s how I know. You’re in 92 clubs. At an elite private university. Your life, compared to most others, even in this town, is pretty damn awesome. Be a little more positive, find some silver linings and be humble. You may find yourself a lot happier.