Look
for the Voicebox on Tuesday afternoons in the Birch cafeteria, to anonymously “voice”
your “opinion” on any “topic.” Introverted alternatives include emailing your
opinion to voicebox@capilanocourier.com,
or texting (778) 886-5070.
“What
time do you think kids should learn the truth?”
This
is a great question. I really love it. The truth! The truth? About? I think kids
should learn the truth about the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus by the time they’re
in Grade 11. They should learn the truth about the Canadian Government by age
4. The truth about crop circles, Agent Sculder, and UFOs by the time they bang
for the first time. They should learn the truth about cats and dogs by the time
they realize Jay-Z isn’t Jay-Z’s real first name.
“Tell
us about your first kiss.”
You
sure you wanna hear this one, boys and girls? Alright, let’s do this. Well, I
was (gasp) 19. I had just moved to Vancouver, and the first date I went on was
with a self-proclaimed ‘rice queen’ named (no joke) Bryce (it rhymes with…
nevermind). I was the first white guy he had been with since before his balls
dropped, but I wasn’t too alarmed. Half way through our date (which happened to
be at The Naam, my little vegetarian heart all full, just like my little
vegetarian stomach), he looked at me and said “so… are you half Japanese?” To
be fair, I also get asked if I’m related to Taylor Lautner, if I’m from Hawaii,
and why I dress so gangster for a white guy (it’s called Wigger, and I’m not
alone in this craze, people). Where was I going with this? So he takes me down
to this beach and we are just loungin’ there on these mad uncomfortable rocks
and he goes in for the kill. I didn’t like it. It felt like a big wet moldy
snake entering my mouth, and it was pretty repulsive. He legitimately followed
this scant make-out by asking if I wanted to grab bubble tea. What part about “white”
he didn’t understand I’m not sure. I was wearing a Bon Iver t-shirt and
everything! And it was before Bon Iver was a band, and just a guy who lived in
the wilderness.
“I’m
hungry.”
So
am I, but don’t you dare give your money to those pig-dogs at Aramark. I was
there last week and this lady charged me $17 for a granola bar and a glass of
red wine. That’s a fucking ripoff! Bring your own food to campus! Take back the
world! Get into it! Bailamos!
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