Dear Virginia Tech, it’s time to put down the red pens and the gradebooks because it’s our turn to start grading you on your shit. No studying necessary, this is simply a review of the good, the bad, and the interstate.
Hours you’ve spent sitting in traffic: The limit does not exist.
Times someone’s tried to kill you: AT LEAST a couple thousand.
Final thoughts: We’d rather eat a cardboard cutout of Hoda Kotb.
Top of the Stairs:
Number of times you see that damn flag on Instagram: HOW ELSE WILL EVERYONE KNOW THAT YOU PARTY HARDY!?
Number of times you’ve gone to TOTS just for a picture in front of the flag: It’s a rite of passage, okay?
Final thoughts: Upset with the lack of tots.
Number of times you see him on campus: Not enough.
Number of times you’ve cried because you’ve seen him on campus: Too many.
Grade: A+, Master of the World
Final thoughts: Such a good boy. Very nice. Much yellow.
Number of reported Metallica sightings a semester: We see them all the time –the sightings, not the band.
Number of times Metallica has *actually* been spotted: -1
Final thoughts: 70 year old men making college girls jump –that doesn’t sound as dirty as we wanted it to.
Moss Arts Center:
Amount of times you’ve actually been inside: Wait, where’s the Moss Arts Center?
Aesthetic: Very pleasing, why are we just now noticing this?
Final thoughts: What does it do? Why is it so big?
Surge Space Building:
Average thought that goes through your head: “I am going to fall through this floor at any moment.”
Amount of times you’ve questioned its legitimacy as a real classroom building: Every day.
Final thoughts: Is it called the space building because it’s located in the corner of the galaxy surrounded by no intelligent life forms?
Average amount of time it takes you to find a seat: You could probably earn two degrees by the time you find a seat in Turner’s.
Average degree of headache caused by the Qdoba line: SEVERE SEE A DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY
Final thoughts: Number 1 food in the nation, number 1 cause of being late for class.
WATCH: We asked drunks about their March Madness superstitions: