BY Betty Collins
I was having such a good day, the sun was shining, I felt the cold air, crisp on my plump lips. I had taken an Adderall I had gotten from my roommate’s cousin and got done the essay I had to. Walking, I was simply walking from the Scott Hall bus stop to Murray Hall, when out of the corner of my eye I see that fucking sign. It turned my whole day to shit. It was to my left, and I could see it framed like a fucking douchebag between the two wings of that new building. Fucking let me drink bleach.
While I was contemplating my self-inflicted demise, I noticed that the buildings kinda looks like legs, like outstretched legs of a woman on a bed. Either wing is reaching up, and the thing at the center, the thing you want, the cunt, is fucking blocked by a chastity belt. I also think I heard Henry the Silent speaking because that fucking sign is a goddamn virgin. Way to ruin everything, Rutgers. Fucking let me just hang.
No honestly, my main fucking problem is that we are a fucking colonial school. We have some mad crazy potential with branding. Some regal and austere images could adorn our campus. Instead, we get a mother-fucking block R sign that has nothing to do with revolutionary war, or revolutionary shit happening on campus. It’s just a fucking bunch of letters made of plastic from China. Cool Rutgers, cool, care about other countries economies more than our own, fuck you. We should be patriotic as fuck. Where is the fucking American flag? This University should be synonymous with the good parts of American history, but instead it makes me want to fucking kill myself. Fucking let me stab myself, hari fucking kari.