major(s): economics
Yes, I look like Jackie Chan, let’s all move forward shall we? No? Very well, if a physical demonstration is what you require, to prove that I am NOT noted Hong Kong action star Jackie Chan, then a physical demonstration is what you shall receive.
Christ I’m not even Chinese — I’m Japanese!
OK, I’ll now try to jump over that fence, flip back, and fight those 2 diamond smugglers using only an oil barrel. What’s that? If I flub it up, that will only prove without a doubt that I definitely AM Jackie Chan because it will just be used in the outtakes reel?
major(s): math, economics
Woody lived in my hall Freshman year, and the only thing he recalled about me, aside from my violent lack of a personality, was my pockmarked and blackheaded face.
major(s): biology, science in society
Woody’s insistence that I’m a painfully dull, cretinous boob is entirely motivated by the fact that I’m wearing a turtleneck and have a diamond-shaped face.
major(s): africa american studies
The only thing separating me from every other white girl at Small Liberal Arts University is the fact that I’m an AFAM major.
Take THAT, mom and dad (unless they’re baby boomers, clapping along to Don’t Stop at the Clinton inaugural party)!
major(s): college of letters, philosophy
I’ve got an idea! Instead of giving a real photo, I’m going to take a totally self-serving/mythologizing picture of me over-dramatically giving the devil’s horns to the camera while blocking out my face!
This way, in the future, people will remember how in-their-face my douchiness was!
major(s): sociology
Ah yes, me. My boringness was legendary! Woody would see me at parties and immediately walk in the opposite direction so as to not waste time staring into my hypnotically vacant, needy eyes.
I never went ANYWHERE alone, so ferocious/primal was my codependence on other people. In fact, Woody wages that this two-dimensional picture of me has more personality than I ever did.
major(s): government
Oof!
Woody always knew that with great beauty comes great idiocy, but NOTHING could have prepared him for me!
I lived in his Freshman year hall, and was so retarded I ordered fried chicken when everyone out to a Chinese restaurant one night. I also used to say “meow meow” as an actual response to questions people asked me.
Maybe that nonsense holds weight in High School where everyone wears their heart on their sleeve, but by college even Woody recognized that it was unacceptable behavior.
If you had any intelligence whatsoever and were trying to hit on me, it was impossible to turn a blind eye to my overwhelming dumbness.
major(s): college of letters, russian
Christ I’m terrifying. Am I really standing in a non-descript field holding some kind of stabbing/poking device? Did I literally just conceal a decomposing human corpse and am planning to get back to campus in time to go to the Senior film theses?
major(s): economics, government
I look so totalizingly All American that Woody is sure I was one of those insidious, new-breed fratboys. Similar to the Ferris Bueller mold, I can smile and converse, have a great rapport with authority figures, and then turn completely around and get shit-housed, hooting and hollering at every girl in sight.
If you ever walked by me on campus on a Saturday night while I was with my roving gang of drunkos, I’d be like a motorcycle that blares by you in the street: I somehow get LOUDER the further I get from you.
