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In This Issue

• Me So Lonely
• Premature Ejaculation: a Way of Life
• We Get Letters
• Fringes on the Jacket of Humanity
• The Fed Guide to What's What: Points of Interest on Campus
• A Whine-free Welcome
• Columbia Eateries of a Bygone Era, Revived 4 U
• Facebook Travesty Claims Your Social Life
• 30 Things To Do Before You Graduate
• Tips for Keeping Your Room Tidy and Your Roommate Pissed Off
• Quick and Dirty Guide to Campus Bars
• Some Loser Has To Do It - Might As Well Be You
• Attack of the Killer Blowjob
• A Guide for Beginner's to Smoking Cigarettes
• There Is Life After College
• From Yesteryear's Freshmen

Man, have I got good news for you! You go to Columbia! This means that when you graduate your resume will boast, "BA, Columbia College," and people will automatically assume you're smart and offer you jobs-lots of them! This is, of course, assuming that you actually graduate from CU, which isn't that hard with that handy little device I call "grade inflation". And let me tell you, we have files in our office of real chimpanzees who have gotten Columbia degrees. Despite what they tell you, it's just not that hard.

I'm here to tell you, freshmen of my dreams, that college, even a big bad Ivy League, is a huge joke. So you will be incredulous in 2006 when employers smile, shake your hand heartily, and promise they will call you soon. And then they will, faster than a Barnard girl on the rebound. They want you way more than all the desperate freshmen girls you will meet this year put together. Exciting, huh?

No actually, it's not exciting, unless you consider daily enemas exciting. In exchange for a free ride into the job market, you will have to remain there for a good sixty years working at least a forty-hour week. You will primarily be bogged down with answering phones, making small talk with people you'd like to strangle and having more conversations about the weather than an actual meteorologist. In short, work is a real fucking bitch. And I'm talking way bitchier than the girl you hooked up with this week who lives next door but never seems to be home anymore.

After three years at Columbia, I don't want to roost at the top (especially because of the alarming number of people that fall from high places at CU). I want to leave New York, buy a shitty car and work 35 hours a week at any kind of podunk establishment that doesn't encourage me to succeed. I want to be average, man. Really fucking average!

Tragically, average will never be a part of my life. When the top of your resume says Columbia University, you are guaranteed a lifelong springboard into high paying corporate crank jobs. Welcome to college. Want to go grab a grande caramel skim cappuccino before work?

Mmmm. You know you have a great job when you need to set your head straight for it. Now buck up. It's payday next Thursday.