A Walk Down Amnesia Lane™

Reading through the Globe this morning (hey, it's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it...), I came across this story:

Students find photo hard to stomach, take papers

FRAMINGHAM -- Dozens of copies of the Framingham State College student newspaper went missing recently, but the culprits were not angry over an editorial or a hard-hitting exposé. Two students said they did not like a picture showing their bare midriffs splashed across the front page.

And it reminded me of something that happened in college... You see, this young couple had a fight. The gentleman involved (let's call him... Brian) had been flirting with a young lady - not his girlfriend - at a party, and his girlfriend took exception to said flirting. They fought. She "never wanted to see [him] again". Much agonizing and late-night binge drinking ensued.

Well, Brian saw the error of his ways (the girl he was flirting with never called him back), so he decided to smooth things over with his girlfriend. The way he decided to accomplish this was to write an extremely mushy personal ad which he placed in the student newspaper. It was the kind of ad that makes girls forget their boyfriends acting like heels. It was also the kind of ad that you don't want your buddies to see...

So... Needless to say... We're all sitting around the lounge in our suite, when someone leafing through the paper spots the ad.

And reads it aloud.

Several times.

Brian took exception to this. He rips the paper out of the guy's hands and tears it up. Someone procures another paper and he rips that one up. He takes off in a huff (to go see his girlfriend, who was smitten by his display of affection and forgave him) and the incident is largely forgotten.

Except...

Another buddy and I decide to have a little fun (you can see where this is going, right?). We go down to the lobby of the dorm and snatch up all 400+ copies of the paper strewn about. We then sat down and carefully cut out Brian's mushy ad from each and every paper (and then returned all the papers!).

We took each ½"X2" personal and taped each and every one up all over the suite. On doors. On windows. On the floor. On the ceiling. We taped a bunch of them in the shape of an arrow leading to Brian's room. We taped them on the insides of cabinets. We taped them to the arms of the couches. Any place you could think of, we put a copy of Brian's mushy personal.

Brian spent the next two weeks scraping his ½"X2" admission of undying love and devotion off of every square inch of our suite.

And plotting his revenge, which consisted of a 55 gallon drum filled with water leaned against the other guy's door (the doors opened inward. Do the math)...