So, that one kid who asks unrelated questions in lecture has suddenly disappeared. Word is the kid was murdered. That’s one less problem in your life. Finally, the lecturer won’t have someone leading them  off on unrelated tangents.  

New problem: Every time someone mentions the dead kid’s name, you can’t stop a Joker-like grin from engulfing your whole face. How do you hide your self-diagnosed sociopathic nature from your fellow humans? 

Fear not, for the Campus Times has constructed a foolproof, two-step guide to stuffing your issues deep into the abyss of your psyche in order to fake grief. 

Step 1: Watch a “try not to cry” compilation.
Hop onto YouTube and find your favorite “try not to cry” compilation. Think about that Thai kid’s hard life. Yeah, bet it feels bad. Wait, it’s an ad for laundry machines? Aww, the military family reunion; it gets you every time. ‘Murica. Normally, you don’t like patriotism, but this type is cool. Wait, it’s another ad? For insurance? It doesn’t matter. It feels so liberating to feel — even though your emotions are responses to marketing strategies from the benevolent marketers at Big Corp.

Step 2: Have an Existential Crisis
After watching YouTube for hours, begin to realize that humanity is a band of monkeys on a giant space rock hurtling through space. Thanks a lot, Kurzgesagt. You can’t stop thinking about all those ads and how country music is a thing. Attempt to consume some Nietzsche to solve your chronic nihilistic tendencies, but don’t finish the book, because that would be reading, which requires too much effort. 

With these two steps, you should have no problem faking grief. You will be grieving so hard that people will even get a little suspicious of how sad you are. C’mon, you only talked with them once to borrow a pencil!

Follow this easy two-step process, and you’ll be able to join the mourning in no time!

The Demon Girl Who Lives in the Tunnels: Sick as Hell

Being sick as a demon is about as close to Hell as you can get. Imagine a fever when your normal internal body temperature is just 200 degrees Fahrenheit.

My birthday, my brother, and me

Ultimately, I think both of us are afraid of getting older. Our birthdays are a time for bittersweet reflection.

MERT reports ‘690 percent’ increase in penis injuries on Feb. 14

According to a joint statement from MERT and Public Safety, this spike in reported incidents left the MERT team “stretched thin and girthless.”