I've always been a huge fan of the comedian George Carlin. He's angry about everything; he rants and raves, crosses every line and makes your sides hurt by offending you so badly that you just can't help but laugh your ass off.
So I'm taking a page from his book and going off on everything that has been bothering me the last few weeks. I've been all cheery and full of good tidings lately, and I haven't pissed anyone off, so I might as well get it out of my system before I explode on a family member Christmas Eve and end up regretting it.
First thing on the menu: pedestrians on campus. I'm a biker, so I know I'm not completely innocent of scaring the bejesus out of people as I tear by them.
But listen people, if you've been in college for more than a week, you should know that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. So when you're strolling down Palm Walk talking to Amber and trying to learn which room in the Sigma Chi house she shacked up in last night, do me a favor and walk in a straight line on the right side of the sidewalk.
This mindless zigzagging has got to stop. It makes it really hard for me and all the other wheeled pedestrians to fly by you safely. If I scare you when you're not paying attention, it's your own fault.
And another thing -- I know that your parents taught you at a very young age to look both ways before you cross the street, so just because you're a big kid now does not mean you can just forget it.
When you're walking across the street toward the Memorial Union or even crossing a major sidewalk, go ahead and take a look each way so you don't get creamed by a Frodo Baggins look-alike on roller blades skating so fast you'd think he just escaped from Mordor.
And while I'm on the subject of wheeled pedestrians, just what exactly do these people on Razor scooters think they're accomplishing? It's the slowest thing ever to have two wheels and an aluminum frame, and it doesn't make you look much cooler either. Give it to your 12-year-old cousin for Christmas and move on to the next stupid trend.
Speaking of stupid trends, what is this fascination with wearing skirts in November? I know that it's 50 degrees here and it's 18 in your hometown of Podunk, Iowa, but give me a break.
I'm all in favor of being scantily clad, but some of this is just ridiculous. It's cold out. I need more then expensive fur-lined moccasins to keep me warm, and I assume you do too.
Keep your porno pumps and frilly skirts at home for a few months and enjoy the hoodie weather while it lasts. Even if you're not cold, you're as out of place as Andrew Walter's right shoulder. You'll be checking right back into the Harlot Hotel as soon as it's 70 in February, and I won't complain then, I promise.
Actually, who am I kidding? I'm just as happy seeing some mid-thigh in December as the next guy, so keep up the good work ladies.
I guess no matter how worked up I get, I just need to realize that it could be worse; I could be in Tucson.
Adam Wright is a journalism senior. Send hate mail to adam.wright@asu.edu
