Baylor University

I live by homeless vagrants, whom I turn my nose up to. I look just like everyone else at my school. The NoZe Brothers are the coolest thing since khakis and sandals. I have a leather Abercrombie and Fitch Bible cover. I have an Abercrombie and Fitch everything. I can coordinate outfits and ensembles better than anyone in my upscale apartment complex. I have a radar that lets me know where the closest ATM is. If I can't find one it's okay. I have ten credit cards all of which are billed to my parents. My town is so conservative that anyone who kisses on the mouth before three years of marriage is drug through the center of town, stoned, and hung to death. I like me. I should be an underwear model. I worked my butt off in high school to get in here and am fully paying for my expensive education with scholarships, or else my Mommy and Daddy went here and they're paying for it all and I only got in because they both made some calls. We're the oldest institution of higher learning in the state, yet we've always sucked at football. Its ok, we're just paying our way to be in the Big 12. The only teams that win anything are the baseball team and women's basketball but even that's a little too dyke-ish for the rest of the Baptist General Convention. We tell our parents we go to church on Sunday mornings, but really we all get up, get dressed and go to IHOP. Our veins are pumped of Dr. Pepper and we're always wearing a school shirt that some frat or club or dance or 11 o'clock MWF class made. And mandatory Chapel? What is this, communism? It's ok though I guess; I only came here to find a spouse; however it's harder than I thought with the visitation hours being 1 pm to 6 pm every day, so I just date one hall at a time. I go to Baylor, where a silver Accord is actually considered the nicest car driven by a faculty member and the ghetto-est car driven by a student. I am a Bear.