Ugh! I've got FINALS this week! AHHH!!! I'm so STRESSED. I'm going to be pulling an ALL-NIGHTER. I need truckloads of RED BULL and MOUNTAIN DEW. OH GOD, please LET IT END.
My finals are SO HARD, probably harder than YOUR FINALS. These are really ADVANCED CLASSES and I'm scheduled to work 20 HOURS this WEEK, FINALS WEEK. AHHH!!! MY GRADE depends on these 60 TERM PAPERS that I failed to start on FOUR WEEKS AGO. I'm going to SCREAM so hard at MIDNIGHT. NEED MORE RAMEN.
AHHH!!! EXAMS!!! I can't wait to CRASH afterward. Of course, I'm so smart I could completely bomb them and still maintain my status as Pokemaster. AHHH!!!
Like the swallows that return to Capistrano after their annual casino junket, every year there are hordes of students complaining about their finals across our nation's Internet. Threads such as this one are full of kids whining about their workload and trying to one-up each other, competing for the title of most humongous e-penis by having the hardest and most abundant number of finals.
I know that Lowtax asked us to tone down the language we use on the front page due to pressure from our sponsors (hello conspiracy theory nuts), because if Mike Nelson spots so much as one curse word in our articles he'll take his advertising dollars and film riffing business back to Comedy Centr-, er I mean, the Sci-Fi Chann-, uhm... But yeah, people who complain about final exams are whiny little shitheads.
Christ, you guys have it hard. You mean they are going to give you a comprehensive exam based on material you've already been tested on? Those bastards... Are your instructors expecting term papers you've had roughly 11 years to write? They've got some nerve! Of course, a silly little thing like finals isn't enough to keep most of them from posting on the forums about Battlestar Galactica non-stop.
While you cry about your finals in some e/n thread or loser MySpace blog, there are single mothers out there who have to ride the bus 40 miles each way to their dead-end jobs at McDonald's just to keep their family out of the gutter. There are men out there working 100 hours a week at three jobs to support a family of contagious lepers. There are some poor souls out there who have to write two front page updates a month. Do you think any of these people want to hear your crap about exams?
After finals are over these darling little angels will return home from "Uni" and enjoy six weeks of sitting on their asses, jerking off, and playing Nintendo while the rest of us have to work CHRISTMAS DAY in a COAL MINE. It makes me sick.
BUSINESS MANAGEMENT?!?! OH LORD GIVE THIS CHILD THE POWER TO PASS BUSINESS FUCKING MANAGEMENT!!!
Of course, there are exceptions to every rule and not every student taking finals is a whiny brat. There are some people who are allowed to complain about finals.
If for example your grade directly corresponds to how far a cock is going to be shoved up your asshole, I might be a little more understanding. A friend of mine is taking his final in the middle of a volcano and another friend's final is actually a bare-knuckle fight to death with his art history professor.
There may be hope. At least one person gets it and doesn't have their head so far shoved up their ass that they - oh God I can't finish this sentence because of AHHH EXAMS!!!
Of course everybody ignored him and continued to post entries in the WHO HAS IT THE HARDEST THIS WEEK Olympics, the kind of thread that everybody replies to but nobody actually reads. Still, a photography final? Come on, that's not even like a real class.
The title of this update suggests that I can offer some sort of solution to this problem. As you are already probably aware, including Something Awful in your life only introduces more problems, not answers. But if I had one piece of advice to give to all those students worrying about exams this week it's this.
Shut the fuck up about your finals.
P.S. Sorry this update is so short but I've got five exams and 12 term papers that are due in four minutes AND I HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED and I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT CLASSES I'M TAKING and MY EXAMS are going to be proctored by a FEROCIOUS BEAR! AHHH!!! EXAMS!!!
Sir Mix-a-Lot's classic follow up to "Baby Got Back" has serious unintended consequences.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
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