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Plexapalooza – Some people apparently enjoy things like this. It seems to be a successful, well-attended event. While we don’t exactly understand the appeal, we will acknowledge that there are people in the world who adore the stench of sweat and vodka, who revel in the sardine-like confinement of a gym full of sweaty freshmen, who love the sound of dying rodents and short-circuiting toasters blasting from overhead speakers. You’re all like a bunch of squirrels, sprinting around the trees and waving their little furry arms in the air. Do we understand why you behave the way that you do? No. We just accept it for what it is.
The Pru – Whether you’re standing by the Reservoir, on the fifth floor of O’Neill, or on the top of the stairs to Upper, you can stare out into the distance and see the top of Boston’s definitive skyscraper. It may not match perfectly with the fantastic colonial decor that marks the rest of the city, but at least it’s visible from the deep recesses of Boston College, a constant reminder that the city, and the many adventures it holds, is always a short T ride away.
The Gasson Bells – They could ring at any moment for any reason. Since the first day we arrived at BC we could never figure out why the bells were ringing at 12:42 one day and then 3:21 the next, but there must be some reason. Whatever that reason may be, it adds a little mystery to every day.
Thumbs Down
Plexapalooza – All the stuff we said up there about Plexapalooza applies to this Thumbs Down. It doesn’t make sense. How can anyone possibly find anything enjoyable about the living hell that is Plexapalooza? We may be in the minority here, seeing as tickets sold out within two minutes, but dear God, it’s horrible. We’d rather eat twenty pounds of salami, while riding a camel through the streets of Boston and screaming epithets at random strangers then ever, ever, ever, ever, ever go to freaking Plexapalooza.
Lines – They are the worst. Want an omelet? Line. Steak and Cheese? Line. Student Services? Line. It’s a world full of lines and the slack-jawed people who inhabit them. Next time you see a long line, do the only logical thing: hold your head to the side, close one eye, stick your tongue out the side of your mouth, and mutter curses about William Howard Taft. It will make people think you’re crazy, so they won’t say anything when you cut the line.
Featured Image by Alex Gaynor
