Global Student Poker

I wonder if most people create a pretend email to write into you with. My computer took a dump last week and rerouted a bunch of mail, so a few pleasantries sent out to the compound went to I don’t know where and perhaps appeared to be from I don’t even know who.

The whole episode got me thinking that RYS contributes a sort of strange quality to my campus experience. I’m always looking for the hot ass overhead projector math proffie (’is that his eyes on my ass or the heat from the bulb’ lady, in my mind one of the best ever posts up in here) or maybe searching for that stream, office, or art gallery. I see the voices of RYS just beneath the surface on a daily basis. Isn’t it true that Wicked Walter is really a woman named Wilma and that she’s maybe my Dean in the Sciences? Her cover is deep, but I’m onto her.

I think someone is on to me. Do I really care? Not so much, but it makes me a bit queasy imagining that without even knowing it, face to face, I could be giving my line to a colleague-moderator who read what I really think this morning. So maybe I’ll retreat into the wilderness of some email alter-ego for future correspondence. How exciting, right? It’s underground for me - deeper, I mean. This email is made up too. I’m totally trying to frame this dickhead for being some kind of asshole. She’s really all about mentoring and being patient with the dumb kids. This other stuff is just an act.

Maybe I’ll virtually come back as one of those chiefs. Is it wrong to steal an already fake identity? Is that like hyper-theft? Anyways, fuck all the haters (I know who you all are anyways), god bless our snowflakes, may we teach and quicken them, and peace to RYS. The rest is silence.