Who is the Holmes Hall RA? (2) – Where the fuck is Holmes Hall?

Finally sobering up after my third encounter with the “Kavanaugh Special” (a 24 pack of Natty Light-Tylenol combo), I began my pilgrimage to Holmes Hall. Unfortunately, however, I did not know where the fuck Holmes Hall was actually located. Is it in South Neighborhood? North? Somewhere in the hell hole which is River Trail? Before I learned that my prophète malgré lu graced its cramped halls, I had thought that it was the gulag where MSU abandoned its freshman-but-sophomore-by-credit academics and the no preference majors who thought they were going to Grand Valley. No, now it was my Mecca and I intend to pray before my god.

Once again, however, and I cannot reiterate this enough, I did not know where the fuck Holmes Hall was. And, with that “Kavanaugh Special” still making me hallucinate about my lost Prussian grandfather, I was in no shape to step outside. Disappointed, I grabbed my phone and started to play Seal’s 1995 hit single “Kiss from a Rose” from my half shattered Zune. While the sweet tunes from Seal’s immaculate mouth soothed my growing sadness, I received divine-like inspiration.

“Intern 3, get in here,” I yelled out my door.

Quickly, a tall, but thin freshman jogged into the room. Intern 3 is what I call him, though I think his name is Craig. Who cares? Regardless, I explained the situation to him and ordered that he was to go to Holmes Hall and begin the search. While I was speaking, I noticed dark rings around his eyes and his short black hair looking disheveled. He must have been hitting the peyote hard last night. When I finished, he attempted to say something, but I cut him off by throwing three of my deluxe edition dvd copies of Braveheart at him–man, Mel Gibson is really misunderstood. Intern 3 dodged my assault and rushed out the room, but only after picking up my precious dvds and stacking them neatly on my dresser.

It has now been 36 hours since I sent intern 3 on his assignment, with no indication that he has completed the task. I am now nearly certain that he has been lost and is either on a five day opium bender–ah, I miss the 90s–or has been taken by George Soros. Further, I am somewhat certain that what he attempted to tell me was that he also did not know where the fuck Holmes Hall is located. Well, I am now seeing straight and it was not like Craig contributed anything to this publication. I was not going to mention him in this story anyway. This was my journey and there is no way I am allowing anyone but the true faithful to rest their eyes upon our lord.

Also, we are now accepting applications for interns.

– O. Justice

Next Time: The Long Trek


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