Who moved my Jack?

By Micah Yang

Food is good. The only thing separating good from food is a “g” and time. I feel that I’m qualified to determine whether or not food is good because I’ve eaten food, for 18 years no less. And even if I hadn’t, I could make a reasonable guess, since I’m intelligent, or so my high school counselor has told me.

Recently, I have begun drinking coffee, mostly in the mornings, but sometimes at night. At night, I like to have a cigarette with my coffee. Also in the daytime, I often have a cigarette with my coffee. I try to read when I’m smoking and sipping on my cafe mocha. I’m an intellectual and in this college environment I don’t have to hide it.

Now that my credentials have been established, I will review a plate of cheese I found in the refrigerator at the Maroon office. The plate of cheese is about yea high and has a circumference of about three hand lengths. That’s some serious cheese!

There are a variety of cheeses in the plate. I imagine Goethe, my favortie post-Hun German author, would describe the plate as a plethora of dairy goodness.

One cheese is yellow, and–get this–white. Why are all the girls in my dorm ugly? I gotta get over to the Shoreland.

But back to the review: the yellow and white cheese tastes like a mixture of cheese, marbelized you may call it. Somebody said they are called Co-Jack cheeses, because it is a mixture of Colby cheese and Monterey Jack cheese. That makes sense. That’s why they call some people Cossacks, cause they are a mixture of cosmology and nutsacks. Cossacks are fun.

It is not very good, the cheese that is. It tastes like the time I threw up after drinking four screwdrivers and eight MGDs at Koko’s party. That was bad. The worst though, was when I drank so much that I vomited and fell down a flight of stairs at Alpha Delt at the same time. That was crazy, man!

There is this all white cheese there that is bettter, but the best cheese on the plate is this white cheese with little bits of green and red stuff in there. I think they’re little pieces of plastic, maybe chopped up pieces of fake Easter grass. Someone else says they’re pieces of jalapenos. I guess we’ll never know.

Man, I can’t believe first year is over. We’ll be second years next year. Holy shit! I still remember winter break when I went home and saw all my friends. Goodness, they’ve changed.

There were also some slices of bread on the cheese platter. They are very small, almost as if tiny elves with tiny bread machines made them. But it really doesn’t have to be elves or bread machines. It could be midgets with ovens, though the midgets would probably have to have some training in the baked arts since the bread was very nice looking. I didn’t eat the bread, but I’m getting a bitchin’ corner room at Broadview next year. I hope better looking girls are there.