Tragically, somebody has stolen Mario Kart 64 from my dorm room. This is easily the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and I have spent the last four days trying to track down the criminal mastermind who could have done such a thing. So far I’ve narrowed the list down to the following people: everybody except myself. And sometimes late at night, I lay in my bed and I wonder if it was possible that I could have taken it after all. Because who’s to say that, in a fevered moment of panic, I couldn’t have destroyed Mario Kart on my own in a violent effort to sabotage my chances at ever living a happy life? I mean, how well do I even know myself?

Some might say that video games are a waste of time, but Mario Kart was enjoyed by everybody in the entire dorm. It brought together people of different genders, different races and different ethnicities (except the Turkish people, who weren’t allowed to play from day one). Through collecting nonsensical treasures in bizarre landscapes and then shooting them at other people, Mario Kart taught us that, underneath, we were all the same after all. It also taught us the meaning of Christmas and the true value of friendship, and that true love couldn’t be bought or sold. Finally, it taught us the true meaning of Hanukkah, which had something to do with candles if memory serves me correctly.

Living in a dorm without Mario Kart is a lot like living in a world without kittens. Sure, sure, it’s not necessary to have them around, but it sure as hell couldn’t hurt. Mario Kart and kittens are a few of my favorite things.

Incidentally, I’d like to give a special shout out to Miss Vanessa Kensington, who stormed into my dorm room one night at two in the morning and argued with my Ecuadorian roommate for about fifteen minutes in a fit of drunken delirium. That was definitely great and hilarious. Thanks for reading, fellow Marion forum member! Stay cool.

Tomorrow is Halloween, which if I recall correctly commemorates the anniversary of when Jesus dressed up as a Pokemon creature and received candy from all of his neighborhood friends. Basically, Halloween celebrates the concept of making kids dress up as terrible monsters and letting them eat hundreds of Snickers bars which they receive from trespassing in random elderly peoples’ houses. There is also some kind of tradition about pumpkins, but I don’t really know what the hell those are supposed to symbolize. I think that whatever lunatic designed Halloween just said, “fuck it, it’s almost November and we have a lot of pumpkins. You can’t really do anything with pumpkins. Let’s just carve these bastards.” It’s the same thing with Thanksgiving. “Eh, we still got a few pumpkins left over. Hell, let’s make a pie.”

Another thing about Halloween is that it is full of many spooks and surprises such as skeletons, witches and ghouls! It is a very exciting time of the year indeed! Let’s all celebrate!

Hey, immune system! How are you doing there, pal? Oh, cool, that’s good to hear. Yeah, I was just wanting to let you know that you can feel free to chip in every once in awhile and stop letting these retarded antigens or whatever swim around in my body and make me feel like junk. I’m not going to point fingers or anything, but I’m sure as hell not the one who’s supposed to be in charge of preventing this type of shit. Let me give you a hint: Next time you see a virus coming into my body, please just boot it out. He’s not your friend. Don’t fall for his sneaky virus tricks.

What the hell is up with viruses and bacteria, anyway? What are they hoping to have happen? Are they trying to kill people? Is that their game? I’m sorry to say this, but that’s not very cool. Viruses are the meanest little creatures ever. Everyday they’re like, “Oh, look at me, I’m a little virus! I think I’m going to go fuck with somebody’s immune system now for no reason. I want everybody to feel sad because it makes me feel like a big man.” Viruses have very low self-esteem. If I ever get my hands on a virus, I’m going to strangle that little bastard.

I think I speak for all the human race when I say that I didn’t evolve for millions of years just to get a soar throat and a pounding headache. What have immune systems been learning for all of these years? Wake up, immune systems! Do your fucking jobs!

So today at Meijer this old woman totally scored an insult off me. I mean, she burned me. See, due to a variety of factors that I won’t go into, I had been looking for some corn nuts, and so I was like, “Where the hell is the nut aisle?” Big mistake. This random woman who’s walking by quips, “Whatever aisle you’re in,” and then starts laughing like a maniac. All I could think to say was, “Awww! That was mean!” I should have insulted her back, but that would have just brought me down to her level. God, only I could get burned by an old woman.

One thing that struck me as being interesting at Meijer was how the back of all the cereal boxes insulted my intelligence. Where the fuck does Kellogg’s get off assuming that only children read the back of their boxes? Personally, whenever I eat cereal, I always feel obligated to read the back of the box during the entire course of my consumption. I believe that this is a normal human compulsion, and approximately half of all the information I know in life is from what I’ve culled from these boxes. None of it is of any use; mostly I’ve learned how to help retarded squirrels find their acorns by completing mazes, or about how to help leprechauns solve some sort of word search puzzle to find missing marshmallows. This is a huge waste, because I swear to Christ that if they included physics equations on the back of Honey Bunches of Oats, I’d have been able to build a rocket ship by now. This leads to my question: Are kids really the only ones who eat cereal? I’ll have to check the statistics on that, but I don’t think so. And if it turns out that they are indeed not, I’d like to know why the hell all the activities on cereal boxes are targeted toward them. No offence to children, but mazes and word searches are kind of easy. Children must be stupid.

Hey, I’d understand if it was only the more sugary and colorful cereals that had this problem, but you could purchase a cereal that nobody under fifty-five years old would ever contemplate eating, like some sort of nasty-ass oat bran flake deal, and the back of the box would still say, “Oh! Please help the magical bunny get to the forest by completing the bran flake maze of mystery!” Fuck you, bran flake maze of mystery. Tell me something interesting.

This problem extends beyond cereal, contaminating the entire snack food industry. The back of the current Ritz Bits Sandwhich crackers box challenges you to “help the filling find the crackers!” by completing a maze. Thanks a lot Nabisco, you’ve successfully assumed that I’m a quizzical retard who is stimulated by a pathetic maze. Or am I to believe that only six-year olds eat Ritz Bits Sandwhich crackers? That’s bullshit, because I saw some guy eating Ritz Bits Sandwhich crackers the other day, and he was about seventy.

OK, I completely made that up, but I did so to make a point: People of all ages enjoy cereal and crackers, and it’s high time they got to truly enjoy the packaging.