With the beginning of spring term slowly approaching, many students are starting to think about the annual housing lottery. Although day students may have no idea what I’m talking about, that’s quite all right. None of it concerns you, so please don’t go sending Ms. Chase threatening e-mails or anything. Now for those of you that do have to decide what dorm you want to live in next year, read closely. If you happen to be as unlucky as I am and pull #273 in the all-school lottery, you might want to consider a popular alternative—the stack. Stacking a dorm is the most popular way to get 5-8 kids who used to be “good friends” to hate each other by the end of the year. But regardless, the stacking process has its advantages—mainly that you get to choose who lives in your dorm. And so I give you: the dorm roster for THE ULTIMATE STACK. Steve the Regurgitator: If anyone saw this guy last Saturday, they would know why I’d want him in my stack. If I ever needed to hide any of my various illicit substances, I’d just walk on over to Steve’s room. He’d swallow them for the time being and regurgitate them back up on command. Random room searches? That’s cool. Random stomach searches? Less cool. Anna Nicole Smith’s baby daughter: My reasons for letting her into my super-cool stack are mainly those of pity, because when she grows up, her life is going to be rough. Why? 1. She is the daughter of Anna Nicole Smith. 2. Anna Nicole Smith, the aforementioned mother, has passed away. 3. Her brother passed away. 4. She doesn’t know the identity of her father (It’s Grober). 5. What do you call fetal alcohol syndrome, but for methamphetamine? Oh wait– she’s a girl. No co-ed dorms. Sorry, Anna Nicole Smith’s baby daughter. It looks like you lost on this one too. Hugh Hefner: Okay. I admit my stack may be somewhat of a downgrade for the big guy, but I think the overall experience would be good for his health. He could help me out with pursuing my interests in journalism, especially considering his magazine is one of the finest literary journals to ever be published. And I know what you’re thinking with that dirty mind of yours. I read it purely for the articles. Freakin’ pervert. Hef would probably have more parietals than me, but that’s a-ok. And hey, if he wants to send some of his lady friends over to my room, I’d be down with that too. A little runoff never hurt anyone. Fidel Castro: I’d steal his iPod and check the authenticity of his iTunes Celebrity Playlists. You can never trust big corporations with valuable information like that. I mean, I never knew the guy was an Avril Lavigne fan. And if this is true, it looks like the two of us have something in common after all. Whoever owns the world’s oldest “living” Tamagotchi: I don’t know who he is yet, but I can honestly say that this guy is the most dedicated man alive. Anyone who has managed to keep that lame virtual pet alive until now must have unlimited passion and care for useless toys. And if he has managed to select the “feed me” icon and press the A-B-C-A sequence everyday since 1996, imagine how he would care for real, living people! The only thing I’m worried about is if he will voluntarily clean up for me after I go to the bathroom or if I must force him to. The B-B-A-C only gets you so far. The 2007 Time Magazine Man of the Year: You: No, I’m just kidding. I would never let you into my stack. It’s amazing how much they’ve lowered their standards over there… it’s a slippery slope, Time Magazine!
