Praise Be Thee, Imminent Drop Date
Good news: Halloween just so happens to coincide with the drop date. You know, the two most Satanic days of the year. Coincidence? I think not. It’s like the Dark Lord wants you to drop orgo and devote more time to your O Ouija board and scoring it with cool Satan-chicks. And even if you’re more of a Jesus kind of person, I think it’s pretty clear your Brotha from a Virgin Motha did not die for you to wake up for a 9 am discussion section after Deuce Thursday. So go ahead, drop that fifth class! Drop another! Go part-time! Any way you approach the issue, you’re guaranteed to have support of at least one imaginary spirit man.
Then again, I suppose some of you nerds may have never experienced the unique pleasures of dropping a class, or at least not publicly. But dropping a class is almost never a bad idea or something to feel bad about. I’m sure you’ve heard the age-old adage “every time a student drops a class an angel gets his wings.” It’s true. By taking a full courseload, you’re fucking depriving an angel of what’s basically his or her car. Do you know how fucking inconvenient that is? Goddamn. Your GPA will thank. You will thank you. A fucking angel will thank you. It’s a karma slam-dunk, really.
Even the process of dropping a class is a titillating (ha, tit) experience. Deep in the labyrinthine hellfire of Caesar lies the drop button, in all of its green Web 1.0 glory. Oh how precious it looks awaiting your cursor’s smooth touch. You can almost hear its siren song beckoning for your input: Oh yeah, click me you naughty nellie, you (it’s a sensual encounter for all). Sometimes, at the beginning of a quarter, I continuously add and drop random classes just for the endorphin rush.
Of course, there are long term benefits of dropping a class, too. You really discover yourself in all of your newfound free time, you know? I dropped a class this quarter and immediately found a five dollar bill in my right coat pocket. Plus, my belly button has never been cleaner. Most of all, dropping a class has literally paid off, considering how I can pick up some extra cash doing laundry and calling home for a couple of five-class chumps here and there (Shirley sure does love her son Bryan).
So what are you waiting for? Go out there and disappoint your parents — drop a class and feel #blessed.