Protesters, none of which play the trumpet

Yesterday outside the Fleming Administration Building, a group of students boldly protested the University's use of sweatshop-made clothing by skipping class to hang out and wear sandwich boards. One brave soul played bongos.

The protesters were there to help shut down sweatshops, and this is understandable: 73% of all sweatshops that closed are shut down by people hundreds of miles away chanting and not having a job.

The remaining 27% of sweatshops are closed by wishing really hard and clapping your hands (which is also how you bring a fairy back to life!).

(work.)

Looking back, I guess those protesters were the bravest unemployed people I've seen in a long time. They stood up for what they believed in: standing up for unalienable human rights, not taking crap from authority, and also not going to work.

What exactly is the bongo guy contributing? And why is he at every protest in town? I think he just wants the attention, but come on, he only knows like two bongo notes. You can only do so much with two notes before people think you're too lazy to play a more complicated instrument. I think he should protest by playing the trumpet. We'll see if that two-note shit flies when he's playing the trumpet. I don't think so, bongo guy.

Hippies hate dossiers

On my way toward the Diag today I overheard one Hash Basher expressing concern to another Hash Basher:
'Do you think people will be here taking our pictures and putting us in their dossier?'

Wow, guy. They say pot makes people paranoid, but I'm glad you're out there dispelling any myths with your example.

And do people even have dossiers anymore? I bet somewhere there's a guy with a dossier, and it's sitting right next to his rocking chair and rotary telephone.

Hippies made UM's political activism seem a hell of a lot more impressive. They made the 'Buy Coke and pour it out to protest Coke' student rallies look like full-blown revolutions next to the hippies' politically motivated signs about...um...something about hemp or the war or whatever.

(Updating my dossier with pictures.)

Somewhere there's a pet store where they sell dogs exclusively to hippies. They'd carry mostly dirty mutts that love wearing bandanas. And I'm sure they'd make a mint selling little hemp sweaters that you can put on your dog so it can walk around town looking like an asshole.

Hash Bash and a Ferris Bueller reference

As if watching people get obliterated at 7am for St. Patrick's Day only two weeks ago wasn't enough, Hash Bash is today.

These holidays are centered around drug abuse usually play out like really bad children's books. 'Today I got out of bed and it was a silly, silly day! Everyone wore green and threw up in the streets! Vegans smoked reefer would still not eat meats!'

Of course, that's a combination of the two holidays, but still, I expect today to play out like some kind of topsy-turvy Dr. Seuss book where everybody has a star on their belly and a bong in their hand. And I'm working all day, so I'll be around this mayhem on the clock.

(Work, 11-7.)

Someone pointed out that Hash Bash is not a holiday. To the common man, no, it's not another day, but to hundreds of smelly hippies, it's two Christmases, a Thanksgiving, and one of those days where you pretend to be sick but instead just ditch school to hang out with your friends.

Ironically, none of the hippies looked like they had ever had schools to ditch. Same goes for jobs.