Ever wonder why whenever you see protest footage on TV it's always some sort of student uprising? That's because students are fucking idiots who don't know shit except how to be irritating and cause problems. So this week, in honor of the beginning of school and the end of the three-month span where I don't do shit at work I've put together a comprehensive guide to recognizing typical student behavior. I have also included advice on how to deal with students appropriately and in a way they will understand and relate to. Remember, I work at a university so I am an expert of sorts on this topic.
- The Perpetually Confused Mouth-Breathing Retard
When you're a college Administrator, this is really the main type of student you encounter on a day-to-day basis, and often times it's enough to make you want to stash a bottle of Jack Daniels in your office desk. Not to get drunk at work, mind you, but rather to fucking douse these stupid fuckers in alcohol and set them on fire so that they can finally exercise their Central Nervous System for the first time in their miserable pathetic lives. They're the dolts that stand in the entryway to my office staring blankly at some random spot on the ceiling vaguely behind me and trying to think of something... anything... to say that isn't completely fucking retarded in every way imaginable. Attempting to engage them in any sort of meaningful conversation is often useless, because they will generally only respond with a blank stare and some sort of completely incomprehensible sentence that takes fifteen minutes to get out: "Uh... yeah... I'm looking for... I mean... I'm a student in a class... and... I need to... uh... get some kind of... I guess a form... or something... I think?" Of course, they will never have any idea what the fuck they've come to see me for and will have possibly already forgotten how they got to my office to begin with -- they're generally just lost puppies wandering around looking for people to piss off and university employees who love to have their precious internet-webpage-writing time wasted by mouth-breathing inbred stoner Space Camp rejects with roughly the brainwave activity of a week-old cup of half-drunk coffee and who couldn't find work as a subway tunnel support.
Grievous communication issues aside, these people are especially difficult to deal with because it's virtually impossible to get rid of them. Apparently, once their path crosses your office it becomes committed to their rote memory and you end up as a daily stop on their meandering zombie-like stumblings around campus. I generally like to give them my default, "you're in the wrong department" and send them off to the Maintenance Closet in the hopes that a brick or mop or machete or something will knock some fucking sense into them or at least issue them some sort of permanent debilitating injury. Inevitably though, whenever I actually manage to temporarily get rid of these dumbasses, it's only a matter of time before they show back up at my door asking me the same fucking question they asked me before. Yeah, I still don't know the answer, fuckwad. Go stick your head in an exhaust pipe and a deep breath. Come back when you are capable of formulating something that resembles a coherent thought and then maybe I won't shiv you in the eye with a rusty staple remover.
- The "How Did You Even Get in Here?" Dickbrain
Every once in a while you meet someone who is so mind-numblingly stupid that you seriously begin to debate the existence of God. If some sort of higher power existed, how could he allow such a mockery of himself to wander the territory he created? When you encounter these types of people on campus, the only thing that really passes through your mind as they prattle on about meaningless inane crap nobody would ever care about is, "How did you get in here? And how did you survive this long without drowning in a rainstorm or murdering yourself in some sort of hilarious Darwin Award-style fashion?"
These people are not to be confused with the afore-mentioned Mouth Breathing Retard however. They differ in the sense that the Total Dickbrain actually seems to be formulating some sort of coherent thought -- it's just that the inner workings of their brain have been so horribly warped from years of being hit over the head with a hammer made out of edible paint chips and power lines that they can't follow any sort of rational thought process and possess roughly the problem-solving abilities of a pack of ravenous wolves who accidentally just sniffed a huge stash of cocaine-laden dead hookers. You really have to draw these folks pictures to illustrate your point, even if you're just responding to, "Where's the bathroom on this floor?", only make sure you use fingerpaints and label everything in permanent marker because if you give these simpletons even the slightest opportunity to bungle something they will find a way to make it happen. Remember the game Lemmings? Where those stupid-ass things just kept walking forward and it was up to you to make sure they didn't kill themselves because they didn't even possess a modicum of intelligence or any sense of self-preservation? It's like that. Only I don't really give a crap if they walk into an elevator shaft and fall on some bullets, as long as it doesn't happen in my office and I don't have to charge the clean-up operation to the Department budget.
- The Self-Important Pretentious Cock
Vincent DuPont the Fourth has far more important and pretentious things to do on campus than waste his precious breath on the dregs of society or pretty much anyone in the world whose full given name doesn't contain the words "Vincent", "DuPont" and at least one Roman Numeral. He's fucking important and vastly wealthy and ultimately has little time for anything that doesn't involve sleeping on top of huge piles of money with many beautiful women or riding around in a ridiculous golf cart and lobbying against the income tax while rocking the trust fund his father set up for him, insuring that he'll never have to worry about coming up with rent money even if he lives in the Ritz Carlton every day for the next fifty years and wipes his ass with hundred dollar bills.
As an egomaniacal misanthrope, I generally detest anyone who acts like they're better than me. Especially when they're just pretentious soft-handed never-did-a-day-of-work-in-their-lives sweater-vest wearing war-profiteering dipshits who need to get a good swift kick to the balls by a furious-yet-endearing crackhead homeless person. You can always tell the super self-involved cocks just by looking at them or hearing them say stupid-ass shit like, "I don't have a problem with poor people, but..." or "Sure it was expensive, but I'm worth it". Give it up, jackass. You're just as much of an asshole as everyone else and you're just going to have to learn to deal with it some time or one day you're going to get your dong punched by an old hobo hiding in the hedges outside of your country club.
"Oh Buffy, there's plenty of time to grab my package later!"
- The Pathetically Dependent Child
The over-dependent college student is probably the most loathsome archetype there is. These are the 18+ year-old self-proclaimed "adults" who are too fucking busy breast-feeding, spending their parents' money and sitting in their ivory palaces to actually come take care of shit for themselves like a semi-respectable member of society. No, they're far too content to sit back and let their parents handle everything for them while they relax at home lovingly stroking their umbilical cords, making cell phone calls to Daddy every fifteen minutes and letting him know that a boy at school said something mean to them. It's disgusting. I can't tell you how many calls I get at the office here that start with, "My son/daughter is...". Tell you what, Sir, why don't you have THEM fucking call me and deal with the problem themselves instead of having you fight their battles or research their information for them like some sort of pathetic lackey Igor-esque person man desperate for delicious brains. Maybe if they start acting like fucking grown-ups people will actually start treating them that way and not like the spoiled toddlers they are.
The Dependent Child is usually pretty easy to pick out because they very often break down into hysterics at the first sign of a problem (i.e. their parents cut them off from their trust fund or their roommate doesn't like them), since they were so completely sheltered from the outside world in the years before college that they're completely incapable of making any sort of decision for themselves or handling any sort of minor problem-solving task without sobbing and dissolving into a sticky acidic mess that stains the carpet and poisons the laundry detergent. They usually just end up going to college less than twenty miles from home so that they won't have very far to run when they need help (which is usually about three times a week). It's actually just sad in a lot of ways, but in a lot of other ways it's also completely fucking contemptible.
- The Scantily-Clad Super Slut
I should probably just append this to read, "95% of all college women", but I've already typed out the title and I'm way to lazy to go back now. Well I'm not going to tread on territory that has already been covered, but I will say this -- there are a lot of chicks out there who look like they would go down on your for less than twenty bucks and possibly give you some sort of crotch-destroying Ron Mexico communicable disease while they're at it, because an incurable case of Genital Herpes is the ugly girl's way of making sure you never forget about her.
Now I went to school in Florida so I'm no stranger to trashy skanks running around on campus all the time like retarded spastic chickens during mating season and showing their board-like chests to anyone with a handful of circus peanuts or at least a three-inch cock. I'm also not the kind of guy that has a problem with half-naked hot chicks bouncing around all over the place like overfilled water balloons at an adult film company picnic either. However, you should remember that the operative word there is "hot". Most of the skanks on college campuses are not the kind of women you would pay five bucks an hour to see get shot in the chest with a garden hose; They're far more like your typical ex-girlfriend's irritating friends who talk in obviously fake valley girl accents, whisper about you right infront of your face, cock-block you at every possible opportunity, think they're hot when they're really doggish and wear clothes that are just small enough that you can count the rolls in their backs from twenty yards away without looking too hard. I like to call these types of bitches "The BAD Kind of Sluts", and you bet your ass that for every sorta "meh"-looking semi-hot trashy bimbo you see on campus and think, "I'd do her if I was drunk", there are about ten bitches who look like a cross between pregnant post-Federline Britney Spears and Starr Jones in a tube top. And that's something that I just don't need to encounter fifteen times a day when all I really want to do is go to my office and write annoying meaningless unintelligible bullshit on the internet in an effort to piss off everyone around me.
- The "Alternative Instruction" Hippie Trash
Oh, you wacky hippies. Always sitting in circles on the lawn outside clapping your hands, chanting anti-war slogans from the 70s, smoking/wearing hemp and trying to find new and interesting ways to fully appreciate the intricacies of Thoreauvian Transcendental Poetry while contemplating the meaning of nature and the nature of meaning. It's really enough to make me want to walk right through the center of your flower circle and rip the loudest fart ever farted and then kick the books out of your hands. Granted, some of that might be jealousy that you get to spend the day outside with your flower child pseudo-teacher while I'm doomed to be hunched over a desk, but mostly it's just that you really just piss me off with your pretentiousness and general dumbassery. You're almost as bad as The Self-Important Pretentious Cock in terms of pretentia, only you're snobbish about your supposed "enlightenment", "intelligence" and "oneness with nature" and not your "unlimited wealth" or "gold-plated penis".
Well here's a news flash, straight from the wire at badassoftheweek.com: Nature sucks. Air conditioning and indoor plumbing rules. Obviously you agree. Otherwise, you'd be living in the woods like one of those crazy hermits that makes underwear out of tree bark and chases neighborhood children around with a shovel whenever their parents aren't looking. Those guys are "one with nature", and they've been completely demented by it to the point where they're now just crazy nutjobs with huge beards and no personal hygiene. Remember The Lord of the Flies? Yeah. Living in nature like an animal reverts you to your more animal instincts. At least, that's the way it works in crappy literature and Sci-Fi original movies about murderous gargoyle lawn gnome dwarves.
What the hell was I talking about? Oh yeah, hippies. In my mind they're the same as those groups of school spirit cheerleader bitches who stand around outside wearing the exact same thing and chanting irritating shit about how it's cool to stay in school. They suck.
- The Obnoxious Asshole Douchebag
These are the sandal-wearing perpetually-intoxicated fuckface frat boy soror-stitute jackasses who think every motherfucking thing that happens in their meaningless shallow existences is cause for a celebration and that everyone in a ten mile radius wants to hear them scream "Woo" at the top of their lungs and blast the shittiest techno-electronica remixes of Pat Benatar songs ever created in the history of the world. As luck would have it, many of these fucking assholes love to create makeshift refugee camps outside of my apartment bedroom window on Friday and Saturday nights, yelling at cars, groping each other, pretending to start fights (but of course pussing out) and generally being complete fucking morons who need to be capped in the brain by my air rifle when they're least expecting it. It's one thing if you're at a football game cheering for your team and being a dumbass; it's another thing entirely when you're just some fucking dude getting drunk and celebrating Flag Day by pissing on cars and shouting "Fuck You" into an industrial-grade megaphone at four in the morning on a Monday while date raping your sister's friends and shooting bottle rockets at nearby apartment buildings or you're some stupid bitch screeching "Oh my God, you're such a jerk" like some sort of drunken jackass Banshee and flashing your tiny surfboard rack at passing cars and old people.
An obnoxious asshole student on any given Thursday morning.
- The Indecipherable Enigmatic Weirdo
I suppose this category encompasses everything from the attention-starved bitches with dyed purple mohawks, black eyeliner a tattoo reading "Fuck the World" backwards across their foreheads to the translucently-white shut-in computer dorks with Buddy Holly glasses, light-activated Star Trek replica phasers and and perpetually uncontrollable case of the chills, up through and including the crazy-ass motherfucker who walks around campus in a full WWII Nazi dress uniform with a sign around his neck reading, "Someone please kick my ass". They're all attention-deprived social outcasts doing their part to try and see if someone will actually notice them or at least take the time to figure out what their problem is.
Of course the first thing you see when you look at one of these people is, "Dude, what a freak. I wonder what the hell is wrong with them?" The interesting this is that not only will you never figure it out; it's pretty likely that they don't even know what the hell is wrong with them. They're just trying to get some attention since they were previously unsuccessful at making friends or having anyone think they were cool before they pierced their eyes with hypodermic syringes and started wearing a giant green Superman cape with the words "Automatic Toast" written on it in Japanese Kanji.
- The Typical Grad Student
Few things are as instantly recognizable as the jaded, defeated expressions perpetually on the faces of overworked unpaid bitter exhausted graduate students. They've seen everything; there's nothing that you can say or do to them that will surprise them or even elicit any sort of reaction from them at all. Don't believe me? Try asking a random grad if they've heard that the school has added a Sniper Rifle Marksmanship requirement to the Ph.D. curriculum. They won't even flinch, they'll just start trying to figure out how to work the qualifying examination into their busy schedule of going to class, teaching class, going to the library and writing about going to the library. They've suffered through everything the undergraduate experience could offer, and now the continued rigors of grad school have more or less driven them past the point of humanity and consciousness. They are sad creatures.
- The Hapless Work-Study
The Work-Study student is a different beast altogether. They are often one of the stereotypes mentioned above, but they have the certain mix of hatred and fogginess in their eyes that can only come from spending five straight hours alphabetizing three file cabinets worth of telephone bills from the 1960s and hand-writing file cards for every call that wasn't made to someone living in the state of New York on a Tuesday afternoon in January. They dutifully perform whatever meaningless redundant bitchwork you give them without complaining, but in the back of your mind you know that if you gave them even the slightest opportunity to kill you and make it look like an accident they would jump on it without any hesitation.
A typical work-study.
- Any Kind of Academic Procedure
So before you get the impression that I'm some kind of cranky old man who hates everything and gets mad at people for not learning all sorts of academic procedure through Osmosis and MTV, let me say that you actually learn everything that you need to know about academic procedure at a university. You may not remember it, or pay attention to people when they tell you it, but I can guarantee you that by the time you come to me with the question you have already been told the answer at least three times but you were too busy trying to take a picture of some bitch's thong with your cameraphone or thinking about how many hits of Ecstasy you could fit in your mouth at the same time and whether that would be enough for you to be tripping the entire time you were at the club that night to comprehend anything.
Regardless, students don't know shit when it comes to the university bureaucracy. You could set up an office called "The Fucking Financial Aid Office for All of Your Stupid-Ass Financial Aid Needs" and someone would still call me on the phone twice a week asking me where to go to get info on financial aid. Here's a tip: You are a grown-up now. Take your fucking head out of your ass and open that book you got at orientation for once in your entire life and stop relying on other people to spoon-feed you critical information about your own life like some sort of geriatric Keanu Reeves in a heroin-induced coma.
- How Not to Act Like a Complete Fucking Dumbass 100% of the Time
Ok, I can understand the procedure thing. Whatever. But this one just seems like common sense more than anything else. I guess most of these kids have never actually been away from any sort of parental supervision before so that now that there are no more "grown-ups" around they can be complete fucking dipshits all the time and nobody will stick a fork into their hearts. It pisses me off. You are twenty years old, jackass. Stop acting like a fucking fifteen year-old at his first-ever "my parents went out of town" party.
- How Not Get Fucking Killed by the Train
Seriously, like five kids a year in Boston get hit by the train. Two kids in the area got killed recently by the fucking Commuter Rail and everyone was like, "wow, this is so tragic. My heart totally goes out to them even though they were complete fucking dipshits playing on railroad tracks in the dark". Except that the only way to get to the section of the Commuter Rail where they got moked the fuck out is if you go behind a non-academic, non-dorm building, cross a field and jump a six-foot fence. If you go over there, you probably deserved to be crushed to death by a train because you are a dumbfuck. By the same token, if you don't have the common sense of a five year-old and don't look both ways before you cross the street, you also probably deserve to be killed by a fast-moving large object of some sort. It's fucking survival of the fittest sometimes, and if you're not resourceful enough to avoid being killed by something that travels about fifteen miles an hour and runs on a stationary track, you probably weren't going to do anything to further our civilization along anyways.
- Everything Else
- Remaining Armed at All Times
Nothing really drives a point home like brandishing a serrated Rambo combat knife at someone who's asked one too many inane questions. Sadly, this is often the only way to communicate ideas with some students, since they don't often respond to "get out of here, you curly-haired bitch" or "are you ready to die?" They just look stupid and piss you off more. That's why you need to make sure your office is fully stocked with several different varieties of blades and other military ordinance. If you don't have an office, the least you can do is invest in either a solid pocketknife, a can of police-quality mace or a large handful of rubber bullets and something that can dispense them at a high velocity.
- Perfecting the Blank Stare
Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire. Working at a university, you will get to see the blank stare of The Mouth-Breathing Retard so much that you will eventually be able to duplicate it down to the finest detail. The glazed eyes, the slack jaw, the tongue sort of hanging out, the shoulders slumped... it's not too difficult to replicate once you've seen it a hundred times. If you can't picture it or have never seen it, just do your best post-accident Terry Schiavo impression. Often this will work to further confuse the student, causing them to sort of drift away. It's like the Administrator's version avoiding a T. Rex by remaining perfectly motionless. It may take a while in certain cases, depending on how dense (or determined) the student is, but if you keep it up long enough and never let them believe you have more than two neurons to rub together things will work out just fine.
- "That's Not My Department"
This is what I like to call "The Admin's Mantra". Since this works on the extremely rare "Non-Dumbass Intelligent Student" as well as the average student, I like to rely on it as my primary method of defense against student incursions. It's the one thing you can say that they can't even begin to argue with. I mean, what can you do? It's not your department and you don't know shit about shit. Of course the follow-up question is always "Where should I go?", which you always MUST answer with either "I don't know", "Hell" or "Up your ass". If you give the student any sort of indication that you know anything at all they will ask you for further assistance and continue to cramp your style and irritate you to the point of insanity. It is always best to feign ignorance. It not only takes care of the problem in the short term, but it also prevents the same student from coming back and bothering you the NEXT time he/she has some sort of stupid-ass problem that you don't give a crap about.
- Taking the Offensive
Sometime it helps just to be belligerent. Just respond to anything anyone says to you with, "Don't patronize me", and end all of your sentences by looking really intense and saying, "Can you see that I am serious?". This will often serve to creep the student out to the point where they decide to seek help elsewhere.