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In This Issue

• Country of Cuba to be Bought and Renamed
• Frat Guy: Hot Bitches, Not Being Gay Crucial for Success in Next Four Years
• It's a Journal, Not a Diary
• Why Columbia Can't Stand Your Kind
• Magna Carma Libertatum
• Point-Counterpoint: My Roommate Keeps Having Sex in Our Room While I’m There
• How to Succeed in Lit Hum Without Really Trying
• (Taxonomy of) Hot College Coeds
• "Dear Mel"
• Class of 2010: Peer Profiles
• The Thinking Freshmen's Guide to Columbia's Libraries
• The Motorcycle Diaries
• Remembrance of Orientations Past
• A Brief Primer on the Basics of Columbia-Speak
• The Hierarchy of Columbia
• Facilitating Your Future Alcohol Addiction
• Orientalation
• An Illustrated Guide of the Columbia Hipster
• The Adventures of Ice-Bitch
• Points of Interest in Morningside Heights
• A Typical Night in McBain
• Portrait of A Loyal Member of Our Staff
• Get to Know The Fed’s Staff with Two Truths and a Lie

Shaina Rubin

I remember my first day at Columbia. It was fucking insane. I was like, "Damn, yo, a lot of smart people go here." But then I realized "Fuck, where are all the parties at? I don't know anyone!" I was overcome with fear. I want to save ya'll from the same fate. As one of the most loved students on campus, I'ma help you bitches out (just don't ask for my help after the first day of classes, cause bitches, I am way too good for that shit). As captain of the football team, president of Beta Kappa Delta, and holder of the record for longest keg-stand of anyone on campus, I know what it takes.

The first thing you have to do is join a frat. All Columbia students totally respect members of Greek life. Let me tell you, the entire school looks up to you - especially Barnard chicks. Most girls hate you and all the hot dudes want to fuck you. Wait?you know what I mean, right? Dude, I'm so wasted right now! Fucking awesome party last night. Smirnoff Ice is some hardcore shit. I totally passed out in the bathroom and woke up with my pants down next to my pledge chair. Since we're both dudes, though, nothing happened. Seriously, dude. Nothing. I swear, okay?

You also have to play sports. It makes you a total legend on campus. People see your name on the sports page of the Spec, and it's all like BAM! Respect. Like the other day, the page was like "Joe Thomas fumbled, costing Columbia the homecoming game." All these alumni kept coming up to me being like, "Great fucking job!" It was like everyone was impressed. People totally judge you on your athletic talent. Not every student goes to every game, but some guys I kinda knew went once. They also told me I was great. They even knew my pledge name: jackass! And now, whenever they see me they turn their eyes away. Yeah, man. That's respect.

When you're picking a date, a lot of the same social rules from high school still apply. For instance: If you're a dude, date a cheerleader! But get on that early. Shit, there's only like six of them, and maybe one or two are biddies. But it's guaranteed parties, man, with all their hot friends. And those bitches know how to throw down. I haven't dated one yet, but I've fucked like all of them. Okay, at least the entire bottom of the pyramid. But next year, man, when I'm a sixth-year, those freshman are going to want to tap this fine ass.

Aight, here comes the big secret: academics aren't that important. Do you seriously want to be the kid who hangs out in the library all the time? Come on, GPA? Shit totally stands for "Geek who doesn't go to Parties and probably has Asthma." It's not like it matters anyway. College isn't about learning in the classroom, dude, it's about living on your own, being able to do whatever the hell you want! Make the most of your life, man. You don't even need to major in anything! If you want to go pro, dude, they don't care what you did in college. Hell, most jobs don't care, either. You can just concentrate in something. That's like stumbling on two classes in the same subject. Pick an English class. Get friendly with the smart kid. Tell him you'll introduce him to one of the cheerleaders (not the hot one, but keep that shit on the dee-el). You'll be golden. Also, get that tool to print out the Sparknotes for you. I found out that some computers crash when you try to print out that much if you have too much shit on your hard drive. And let me tell you, I have a lot of guy-on-guy porn. Shit! I mean girl-on-girl! Dude, I totally meant that. Two bitches together are hot. I love it. Seriously.

Forty-thousand dollars a year is a small price for your parents to pay for the best parties of your whole life.

You get so much more out of a night at the Heights than you do buried in some Kant at the library. Can Kant win Edward 40-hands in ten minutes? Dude of course not, he's fucking dead. And you know what? This dude can. Which talent is more important later on: drinkin' malt liquor or writing some incomprehensible book? Which commands immediate respect? (Hint: it's boozin', for both.) You also have to make sure to always dress to impress. The whole school is used to seeing you in your football jersey, so you gotta look just as fly for parties. Girls go wild for unbuttoned striped Axe and Clix shirts. I mean, aw shit, damn that Zima! You know where I'm at. I've gotten so many drunk girls to come home with me in that foolproof outfit. Just make sure they don't puke on you, dude. that shit is hard to clean off your Abercrombie. So get ready. Buy a case of beer, a pack of condoms and a pack of Marlboro lights. This is going to be the greatest time of your life.