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There is a Bottle of Hot Sauce in My Backpack

April 7, 2009   

Hamilton College does not have any hot sauce in its dining halls. I know they think they do, but they don’t. They have Tabasco sauce. I brush my teeth with Tabasco Sauce. And so I walk around with a bottle of Habanero sauce to put on my eggs. It works out well, except for the fact that everyone thinks I’m psychotic.

To rectify this, I took my grievances to our Student Assembly, arguing that the lack of hot sauce in the dining halls was a violation of God’s Will. To their credit, the Student Assembly actually pressed for hot sauce after they were done laughing at me. Unfortunately, the only thing that appeared was a weak, cheap derivative of Srirachi. And Srirachi is nothing more than vinegar and lighter fluid, so the college really wasn’t taking this seriously.

Now, a reasonable person might conclude that there just isn’t any demand for hot sauce at Hamilton College. Fortunately, I am not a reasonable person. Ergo:

1. There is a lack of hot sauce.
 
2. There is a conspiracy to undermine my dining pleasure.

3. This conspiracy originates from the highest levels of power, the Trustees.

4. The Trustees are Hitler.

My logic is undeniable. Unless of course hot sauce were to appear, in which case the initial position would be negated. Until then, I’ll have no choice but to share my theory.

Share my theory with the tour groups.

Using a megaphone.
 
Naked.

Today’s Shout-Out! goes to Stephen Michel (2010), for putting on a darn great production of Columbinus, and for leading the tour groups I’ll be yelling at.