How do I deal with douche bags in my class that think they know everything?

EV: I know everything. Are you calling me a douche bag? ‘Cause I’ll come over there and show you who the real douche bag is. Douche bag.

AB: Prove ‘em wrong. Find a seat next to the dick, and right before he opens his mouth, put your hand on his leg, lean in, and whisper “Hey, hot shot…you seem like a real smarty pants. Real bright. Probably think you are, eh? Well, try this one, champ…I bet you don’t know how to make me cum by only using a hacksaw, a cold compress and your premolars, do ya, Macgyver?” That’ll shut him up. But it might be worth letting him give it the old college try… I mean, what if he can?

I would like to know if it is possible for us, UB students, to get reduced bus passes because people take trains and busses to get to work and most of us can’t afford bus passes.

EV: Well, I tried researching this for you because I was convinced that there was a reduced bus pass, but my colleagues here at Generation informed me that such a thing does not exist. Go to the NFTA.com website and see if they have any deals, or discount passes. Apparently, most other colleges in the vicinity already have a bus pass system set up and UB, after deliberating for a long time, just brushed the issue into a corner.

AB: Have you never heard of the Cold War? We spent like fifty years trying to curb Communism, and I’ll be damned if some pinko scum like you is going to march into my country and dismantle my freedom. 9/11!!! Never forget!!!!111

Where’s the flag room whore? And what the hell was the point of construction on the SU? It looks the same. And could someone please tell the Stampede bus operators to lower the volume of the radio? Not everyone likes listening to that lame morning show. And who’s this new girl writing for the Generation? Is she hot?

EV: She’s in the flag room, dummy. I already told the last asshole that I don’t know what the construction in the Union was for. I hate that giant waste of space, and now they’ve thrown a couple of ugly tables in there, so it’s here to stay. You might as well just set up camp in some remote corner of it. In fact, I’ll join you. We can hang up Grateful Dead sarongs, pop out the folding chairs, and crack open some Diet Cokes. You know how to pitch a tent? Yeah, that’s what she said. She meaning the new girl. And oh yeah, she’s hot— if you like hairy legs, loud burps, and bean burritos.

AB: Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there. That’s a mouthful, little lady. One at a time. From my understanding, the flag room whore is a girl, who, to the best of my knowledge, provides sexual favors in the Student Union flag room. I think it’s a bit of a myth though, as I work one floor up and have never encountered this phenomenon. Usually if someone is getting their dick sucked for cash on campus it’s me, so I’m not quite buying into the hype with this one. No one is going to tell the bus drivers to turn down the radio. The ride is over in ten minutes, so put on your pansy iPod and shut up. And what new girl? If you are talking about me, I am devilishly handsome, thank you. Everyone else here is a stone cold fox too. Come fuck us. Come on!

Do you ever want to drop kick people who walk so friggin slow? Or is it because I

don’t like people?

EV: You know there’s a name for people like you. It’s called a philanderer. It was one of the GRE words I learned this summer. I do actually hate people who walk really slow, and I find it extremely gratifying to stomp around them in an obnoxious and snubbing manner usually accompanied by some sort of sound akin to a loud snort. Other than that, I would recommend anger management classes. I can tell you about those too. In detail. If you bring me a bean burrito. And some money. I’m reeeaaalllly broke. And I’m out of Steel Reserve.

AB: How did you run out of Steel Reserve? You stumbled out of a deli on the East side last night at 1 a.m. with six of them falling out of your purse, trying to buy drugs from a crackhead that was singing Marvin Gaye. Did you really drink them all down? What a machine. Anyway, I’m not sure what your deal is, but a lot of us aren’t exactly anxious to get to class. It is class, you know. Where’s the fire? Thirty years from now we are all going to evolve into winged human-bird hybrids, beaks and all, so it looks like you’ll just have to wait until then. Or quit being a pussy and learn to say “excuse me” and walk past these people. Geez.