The other day, scene rose from its slumbers to sleet in the face, wind whipping ’round its ears, death in the breath of a New Haven winter’s morning. scene’s boots scuffed the pavement. But WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK?!?! What was that huge green pool of slime by the toe of scene’s right boot?
Mucus and spit, mixed in a manner most foul!
scene’s head flicked up like an apprehensive antelope sensing a lion. A Yalie crossed the street, made a horrendous gurgling, snorting noise and sprayed saliva all over the pavement. Seemingly by magic, the sound seemed to be echoed behind scene, but no, this was not Dolby Digital surround sound, another proud student, this time with our fair University’s name emblazoned across his chest was summoning breath to hurtle an even more massive ball of sickly green and yellow through the air and onto the stones of our hallowed campus.
Over the next couple of days, scene came to the conclusion: Yalies spit a lot.
Like. A. Lot. And it’s fucking disgusting. So please Yale:
Have some respect:
STOP FUCKING SPITTING.