Duke needs to return to old-fashioned, 'Dave Thomas' values

So I'm sitting in orgo, half-conscious, with two pens jammed firmly up my nose, whistling the soothing melody of the latest Spice Girls' hit, when some old bastard waltzes up and smacks me on the head, screaming, "First of all, chromium is not the Blue Ranger's code name; secondly, 'dunno' is not an acceptable solution for a problem set; thirdly, your incessant farting has given the rest of my students just one more thing to bitch about all day; and lastly, you're not even registered for my class! So put your pants back on, give that poor girl her calculator back and get the hell out!!" I never was able to figure out what the heck a so-called "problem set" was, but the look in Professor Brainiac's eyes told me that this wasn't "Cross-Dressing and Elizabethan Theater" as I had thought, so I took his advice (except for the pants part) and split.

As usual, I completely forgot where I had parked my car. It wasn't all bad, though, because I was able to make at least 15 Jeep-driving schmucks go freakin' berserk by pretending to find my car in the Bryan Center lot. I just took out my keys, let the iron vultures swarm, and walked away with a brief chuckle (repeatedly). Unwittingly, some soft and cholesterol-filled part of my heart went out to those frustrated parkers.

It's times like those when everybody begins to wish, even if only for a little while, that they had some sort of disability or handicap of some kind. Just think of those lucky wheelchair jerks: always having a perfect spot waiting for them, getting a neato sign to hang in their window, knowing how to use those wacky bars in the "big stall," never having to worry about whether some fascist freak is gonna give them a $300 ticket because they left their car in a red zone with its lights flashing for three weeks. Ah, the daydreams of the un-infirmed!

But notice, if you will, that the whole handicapped spot deal is just another way for the University "you've been had"-ministration to repeatedly screw the students over. Chalk this up another Hitler-esque aspect of campus life; there are about as many handicapped people in Duke's student body as I have extra spleens, and that's only two! Then again, I wouldn't be surprised at all if Duke's handicapped or in any other way "unattractive" students are all locked away somewhere for the peak of the Fall tour group season, allowing the special effects masters from groundskeeping to paint the facade of perfection a tad thicker. I think those guys worked on the whole Star Wars trilogy re-release scam (new footage, my Wookee!!). Keep in mind, I'm not counting the mentally insane as handicapped, because my whole argument would go straight to the crapper with all the manic/depressive, attention-starved freaks writing letters to the editor five days a week!

So, if the University has been "genetically cleansed" of disabled persons, then who are these dag-garned spots for? Overworked pizza guys? Nan's flying pet monkeys? Burig, that rat bastard?! I think this is at least worth one of those searing Duke Review investigations. No doubt they'll find those lazy black employees lounging around the handicapped parking spaces instead of cleaning Richy Rich's puke off the bathroom mirror for the fifth time this week. I mean, do we actually pay these people to have 15-minute breaks every four hours?! What have we become? A bunch tree-hugging hippie socialists?!

I say we go back to old-fashioned values, Dave Thomas kinds of values. Back to the days when my great, great grandfather was cleaning the puke off of Washington Duke's bathroom mirror for the fifth time that week. This is the Duke we should all be fighting for, not some place where the handicapped are accepted, and can actually enter buildings, or employees are treated slightly better than their struggling brethren outside of these kudzu-covered walls. We need a "screw the poor, clean up my puke" kind of Duke! Viva la Revoluciòn! Hallelujah!! Merry Christmas!!!

DISCO STU likes his women like he likes his gravy, extra lumpy, with a little bit 'o spice!