As summer slowly fades into the arboreal utopia of a New England autumn, a plague descends on our glowing campus. Its stinging pain resurrects itself every few months with that familiar nagging, always seeming to arise at the most inconvenient of times. No, not herpes, you silly promiscuous hoebag! Parents! Yet, despite what hip new television shows like Laguna Beach and The McLaughlin Group would have you believe, some parents are, in fact, cool.
This was proven this past Homecoming Weekend when the awe-inspiringly amazing Richard “Dick” Vernon P’09 and Sasha Vernon P’09 swooped down upon Wesleyan University, leaving in their wake 18 empty bottles of Dubra, a veritable litter of spiritually moved students, and at least six pregnant members of the Wesleyan community (three female, one male, one Cardinal).
Mr. Vernon, who jovially introduced himself to all as “Dick,” regaled audiences with his witty repartee and hilarious intellect. When Mr. Vernon entered Moconaughy Dining Hall for Sunday’s brunch, he sauntered up to the cashier and quipped, with that trademark smile of his, “I’ll take one, young lady. I’m watching my weight.” All those within earshot were stricken with a paralyzing spasm of hysterical laughter, many simply falling to their knees in tears, unable to comprehend the transcendent hilarity that had escaped the lips of this seemingly mortal man.
Once he regained consciousness, Ryan Talino ’07, who had been enjoying some Captain Crunch at the time, remarked, “you know how you squirt milk out of your nose when you laugh? I think some just came out my penis. Oh, nope, wait, it’s probably semen. Yep, that is definitely my man juice.”
Mrs. Vernon, the Qaeda to Mr. Vernon’s Al, amazed students with her encyclopedic knowledge of 18th century French painting, insightful opinions on the impending avian flu pandemic, and really, really, really big boobies. I mean, fucking huge. Like, if you’re lactose intolerant and you get within thirty feet of Mrs. Vernon’s mammoth milk mamas, you’ll poop your pants on the spot. Seriously, it happened to, like, five kids. As Gordon Kaden ’08 phrased so eloquently, “Mrs. Vernon and I were enraptured in a deeply philosophical conversation about the racial ramifications of Japanese internment camps, and I was absolutely enthralled. Not as enthralled as I was by her boobies, though. Did you see those things? Dem titties were as big as my car! Mothafucking Toyota Mammary!”
Yet what is perhaps most perplexing about the messianic arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Vernon is the fact that their progeny, their very reason for attending Wesleyan’s Homecoming Weekend, is a tool.
Tim Vernon ’09 is that kid who’s not, like, that bad; he’s just kinda that kid who every time he opens his mouth you want to rip out his kidney and jam it down his fucking throat. Vernon’s obnoxiousness is rather well concealed, until he’s downed three beers, following which he will take off his shirt, scream the lyrics of Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone,” and incessantly yell, “everyone watch the TV! [those are his initials…asshole]” When asked about her classmate, fellow freshman Natalie Milling responded, “Oooooh, you mean D-bag McGee. I thought that was his actual name. Because he’s such a bag of D.”