Grass Ass

Hello and welcome to this week’s column, the topic of which is grass. No, I don’t mean marijuana, but regular garden-variety grass (I still don’t mean marijuana). It’s the stuff we sit on, run on, and swim on (I’m looking at you land shark). It gives your dad something to care about besides football. It’s the perfect place to spread blankets for a picnic with the whole family, or spread legs for a picnic preferably without the whole family (this preference varies depending upon which side of the mason Dixon line you’re on). It provides vast open spaces of soft lush greenery, which we are told to keep off of by little yellow signs. It gives us a place to ponder the meaning of golf: top Freudian psychologists agree that it is the result of pent-up masochistic sexual tension, which manifests itself in extreme phallic aggression towards the testicles. It is pure unadulterated life rooted to the soil, selflessly preventing erosion. If humanity made first contact with life from another planet, doubtless our first question would be,

“Do you have grass where you come from?”

After a bit of somatic confusion about marijuana they would doubtlessly reply,

“Yes we do, and we love it!”

You could say that grass binds the galaxy together.

Why all the fuss over grass? Why bother talking about it if it will always be with us, right? Wrong. A worldwide crisis in grass in happening even as I write these words, a crisis so large that it can no longer be ignored. I am of course referring to the fact that much of the world’s grass is turning brown.

“Oh silly Stupid Guy,” you may say. “Grass always turns brown.”

Wrong again. Usually in Hempstead at this time of year the grass has been so frostbitten that it couldn’t even think about turning brown. Or perhaps I’m thinking of Siberia at any time of year. Regardless, big changes are happening to grass, which means they are happening to you too. The root reason (pun definitely intended) of these changes is global warming, the hit movie phenomena that has both viewers and critics raving (mad). True Fact: Roger Ebert now gives thumbs ups from the cockpit of a hypersonic rocket ship. He has it pointed at what he hopes is a distant grassy planet, but it’s probably just his wife.

Global warming is a serious issue as it is literally toasting our grass. If global warming continues at its current rate, we could well lose grass entirely, the universe’s most precious commodity. If our grass dies, what will hold our world together? Not only will countless millions of acres of land wash into the sea, but also your dad, stripped of his front lawn (no grass) and his football (no grass) may just have break down and start caring about your mom.

Now I’m not an investigative journalist or an environmental scientist, but I can only assume that Hofstra is directly responsible for global warming. I don’t see any solar panels on our acres of roof space, and certainly no grass planting program, just another Unispan that no one uses. From this shocking evidence alone I believe a prosecutor could easily convict Hofstra’s administration of heat crimes.

So what can you as a concerned citizen and student do in the face of such a disaster? Well for starters you could sprinkle grass seeds in President Rabinowitz’s underwear and stop paying tuition, and then go from there. Let us band together as one campus, one nation, one people, and save our grass. If we don’t do it, who will? Aliens? Yeah right, I hear they have a huge land shark problem.

I remember my roommates really loving this one, so I put it up as a good one in my memory, but man is this all over the place. Social commentary from a nineteen year old? Check. Cringy sex jokes? Check. Really long sentences? My God check. And who couldn’t get excited for the thirty year old at the time Land Shark reference? Indelible.