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ONLINE
29-SEP-00
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Camacho's heinous plot exposed
1998 trasher
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So I know what you're thinking: What is this guy's deal with Camacho? Why does he make this man the forefront of every Backpage? Is my hate for him so seething that I feel compelled to bludgeon his angelic reputation just to sate my own ire?
Actually, it's pretty much the exact opposite. My admiration for the good doctor knows no limits. In fact I think a good percentage of the Rice community is probably oblivious to the fact that Dr. Camacho is a first-rate behemoth of a man. I've heard legends of the man benching 205 without breaking a sweat. He runs marathons. He eats red meat like a man. I respect Dr. Camacho for his bestial qualities and so have tried to pay tribute bi-weekly to Rice's beloved little Napoleon.
And so a couple days ago I acted upon my obsessive impulses and broke into the VSPA's office. This is the daily schedule I found lying on his desk.
- 4:30 a.m. - Smash alarm clock into a million pieces. Have some fun with Mrs. Camacho. Holding hands is so much fun.
- 4:35 a.m. - Run the Inner Loop six times. Free-scale large oak trees, lift statues and walk around on hands to improve upper body strength. Leap tall buildings with superhuman ease.
- 5:00 a.m. - Make out with my wife. Eat a man's breakfast.
- 5:30 a.m. - Take a walk with Mrs. Camacho. Heckle some construction workers. If they retaliate, arm-wrestle them until they cry for mercy. Talk insane amounts of trash to bolster self-esteem and impress my wife. Chase the tails of squirrels.
- 5:45 a.m. - Hold hands with Mrs. Camacho again. Take her to the hospital and check her in for exhaustion. Hit on a nurse or two.
- 6 a.m. - Time to start the day. Shuffle some papers and boss around my biatch Hutch. Smack him around if he gets uppity. Steal his cigarettes. Tell him his coffee tastes like crap and pour it on his shoes. Shuffle some more papers. Nurture some souls.
- 6:45 a.m. - Send Hutch to the hospital for mouthing off. Write out a sarcastic "Get Well" card.
- 7 a.m. - Big executive meeting with Gillis and the board members. Enter the room shirtless and very ill-tempered. Bang on chest as much as possible.
- 8 a.m. - Take first daily trip to the gym. Get a triple X sized blurple uniform and flaunt my Greek-god physique. Bench-press everything in the gym, including equipment and people. Explain to all those fat broads that the hip-abductor machine ain't gonna melt off 50 pounds of thighs. Put them on the treadmill and eat jelly donuts while they sweat.
- 10:15 a.m. - Talk to freshmen students. Impress them with my first-name wizardry. Tell them to eat less, work out more. Do lots of one-arm pushups.
- 11:30 a.m. - Go hold hands with that girl over at Hanszen that I got on the side.
- 12:15 p.m. - Eat lunch at Cohen House with the Student Association. Show concern, promise results, whatever. Devour human beings whole.
- 1:00 p.m. - Back to work. Committee on Examinations and Standing meeting. Review the pitiful requests of failing students and mercilessly crank out rejection letters.
- 1:30 p.m. - Begin consolidation of empire. Collect natural resources and mobilize Camacho's Death Warriors. Erradicate those who interfere. Show no mercy.
- 3 p.m. - I'm back in the gym, biatch! Tell McMasters to bust out the anvils cause I'm doing squats. Blast some Outkast, too. I love that shit.
- 5 p.m. - Go back to the office and overthrow Gillis. Lock him up in the tower. Announce my triumphant ascension to all of the masses over the Sid Rich balcony speakers. Sacrifice a goat or two. Apply face paint freely.
- 6:15 p.m. - Call Hutch at the hospital. Tell him to bring my wife home. Force an apology out of him.
- 6:45 p.m. - I need more sustenance. Chase after homeless people and crack addicts on the Outer Loop until they collapse. Spare the ones with families.
- 7:30 p.m. - Single-handedly destroy the various resistance movements. Spit fireballs and unleash chain lightning from fingertips. Roll around the quad in my new Hummer.
- 9 p.m. - Time to pack it up and head home. Shake some hands and kiss some babies before I bounce.
- 10 p.m. - Say hello to Mrs. Camacho and put her to bed.
- 10:05 p.m. - Break into the gym. You think that Plexiglass and a couple Master locks is enough to stop me, McMasters! Blast some Dr. Dre and do some one-armed pullups. Put a 50-pound barbell in the other hand just to make it interesting. Bicep curls with the water fountains. Fuck tha police if they show.
- 11 p.m. - Kick back with a White Russian. Watch the Big Lebowski. Bust into the liquor cabinet and start hitting the harder stuff. Check out the tower and poke Gillis with a stick.
- 1 a.m. - Read the Backpage before hittin' the sack. Make some phone calls.
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