Dear Alma Mater,

I hope you appreciated the survey I just filled out for you. It probably wasn’t actually very helpful, but I wanted you to get the opinion of the people who otherwise might not fill out your stupid survey — i.e., the people who don’t give a shit about your stupid survey.

I loved my college. I met some of my best friends there; I had a great time; I learned a lot about myself, about history, and about how to juggle substance abuse with attending class, doing homework, and going to work — and I’d like to think I was quite good at it.

However, what my college experience did not teach me was how to get a decent job in the real world, or any skills pertaining to acquiring such a ‘decent job’. No, it taught me how to be a hoity-toity white-tower academic. I’m not complaining; had I my druthers I’d be in graduate school right now, writing papers, reading books and turning up my elegantly-formed nostrils at ‘pop history’.

But I’ve lost my druthers. Druthers are gone. I have no druthers.

I’m working at a fucking convenience store. Three nights a week. As I mentioned in your survey, when you asked me for money. Fuck you, I am absolutely not giving you any money. I can’t even make my own rent. I can’t even come close to making rent if you factor in the fact that my life is more or less a cold brackish misery bath and I drink myself to sleep at night because otherwise I’d keep myself up coughing (from smoking so many cigarettes).*

I had a great time while I attended your beautiful campus, alma mater. Don’t get me wrong. It was probably the best place for me to go to school; my professors were fantastic; the people were great and the parties were epic. But I didn’t give a shit about any of your alumni association/service project/sports/magazine/SCHOOL SPIRIT while I went there — why do you think I care now? I didn’t even go to my own convocation senior year. (Also, this is an aside, but make your fucking website more difficult to navigate why don’t you. I just spent five minutes trying to figure out what the word for that thing I didn’t go to was.)

Alma mater, stop sending me things. I’m not going to volunteer, I’m not going to give you money, and I’m not going to any of your alumni events — all of my fucking friends are alumni, I don’t particularly feel the need to hang out with the ones I’m not friends with. So I guess what I’m getting at is, eat a plate of dicks, alumni association, and stop sending me things.

With regards, fond memories, and bitterness,



*this is a slight exaggeration.


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