Got finals? For the next couple of weeks (yes, you can drag it out that long because the exact time period of final exams is iffy and can be toyed with), you have a free pass for avoiding your friend’s show, your brother’s funeral, and manipulating reality to your liking. The powerful properties of this excuse may also save you, if a wayward bullet is headed your way. “WAIT, 13 rounds, I can’t die. Finals, yo. Get served.”
So why does this ultimate-answer reply outgun party nazi spirit and trump all levels of responsibility? That’s like asking why kids like Apple Jacks, or since it’s not 1993, Peanut Butter Puffins. College is a legitimate stepping stone that we, as a nation, humor with patience, mass dollars, and anything stupid that someone under the age of 25 does or wears. Past that, you’re kind of on your ownsome and they’ll nail you for anything. Try spitting on the sidewalk when you’re 37, there’s no forgiveness.
Just listen: “I caaaaan’t, I have fiiiinals.” Hot damn, that shit is like concrete. Fool-proof. Layer cake. Or a Wall-of-China condom. So I strongly advise you to bullshit your way outta crime, jury duty, and pity fucks for the rest of your academic career. Also, just a heads up, if I don’t call you back, it’s nothing personal. Final words?
Thanks, college.
BCO: Fuck, I Never Actually Learned Shit
[Editor's note: Kelly White is Philebrity's intern and, as it happens, second cousin. As she states in her MySpace profile, "I have Arctic Splash in my blood and blood in my Arctic Splash." Blood in, blood out, Kells.]

This entry was posted on Monday, April 30th, 2007 at 11:53 am.