While seniors are busy finishing their theses, everyone else has their mind on something that is actually important, or at least something that I care about: housing. Some people desperately try to assemble the perfect group, avoiding that guy. Others come to the sad realization that they are that guy. But beyond finding a group and entering the lottery, the big question is, Where will I live? Here are my problems with some sophomore housing:

Alpa Delt: I guess I’m just not the frat guy type.

The Bayit: Not funny enough.

The Butts: They remind me of that serial killer’s house in Silence of the Lambs. Even with summer courses there’s no way I’ll be able to tailor a proper skin suit by September.

Eclectic: Not hip enough. But I do look pretty good in girls’ pants, if I do say so myself.

Outhouse: Sounds a little gay.

WestCo: Personally, I’m an EastCo man. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about what you guys did to Biggie.

X House: Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to be able to live here, but the bottom line is I can’t, for a number of reasons. First and foremost, I can’t dance. Secondly, my father is “The Man.” While we don’t always see eye to eye, he is footing my tuition, so I can’t really contest that he’s holding me down.