Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Trouble at Grad House

After our metabolism and nutrition final exam yesterday, some of the guys headed back to Kushima's favourite place - the University of Toronto's Graduate House Residence. We checked out a Wii console and some games from the front desk and plopped ourselves down in Grad House's impressive television room.

At one of our prior get-togethers, Stewie had told us a tale of his own misadventures at Grad House. Apparently, he had been there with some friends browsing the HDTV channels. They had taken a run through the mid-500's (Pay-Per-View porn). Understandably, all the channels were locked... except for one. What sort of perverse wonders awaited Stewie on that mystical channel? Gay. Porn.

Vaguely disbelieving, but more motivated by sheer curiosity, we therefore demanded that Stewie ante up evidence of this bewildering and taboo discovery. We quickly regretted our decision, however. The channel did exist (for some reason available in a university residence common room), and there on the screen appeared two naked men, both positioned doggy style with one who looked to be licking some kind of cream off the other's rump.

Quick, somebody change the channel, and bring me a neuralizer, stat!

As if that weren't enough trouble for one day... The Grad House television room has a panic button that immediately summons the police. I guess it's for those raunchy graduate students that have rowdy television parties in the middle of the night and then are faced with the drunken threat of rape? I have no idea.

Anyways, about an hour into our Wii gaming, two police officers showed up at the door to the common room. "Is everyone okay in here?" Once they ascertained that everyone was alright, they were pretty miffed, and we were pretty bewildered. According to them, one of us had hit the forbidden red button. Right, well maybe one of us hit it when we were walking by the wall?

"That's fine, but if that's the case, you have to tell somebody that everything is okay. Someone came on the speaker and asked if everything was alright. Nobody said anything, so we had to come over here. You know that button is equivalent to a 911 call." Sorry, officer. Apologies all around.

For a minute there, I thought we were all going to get charged. Pulling false alarms, as far as I know, is a criminal offense. That would have been a cruddy end to a promising medical career? Happily, the police officers went on their merry way, probably cussing at us once they were out of earshot. For the record, none of us in the room heard anybody talking to us, and we weren't sitting that far from the button. Additionally, if someone had been trying to get our attention, shouldn't they have been able to hear us chatting casually in the room? Oy...

Anyways, the front desk lady had come down with the police officers, and after they had gone and returned to their duties, she hung around for a few more minutes to glare at us. "Not cool," she said (or something equivalent). "If this happens again, we're going to have to revoke your television room privileges."

The moral of the story:
  1. There are many reasons to avoid Grad House.
  2. Big red buttons should come in glass cases, like the ones in cartoons that protect the President from accidentally launching nukes.
So there you have it. Gay porn. Red button. That's how we celebrate the end of exams at UofT.


i shall remain anonymous for sake of public outcry said...

i think my mind is forever scarred by that scene. i think that guy was applying whipped cream to another's posterior end.

sandlot said...

so THIS is what grad students do for fun... hrmmmmm.. interesting.