The 10 Commandments of Free Food

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The second installment of a multi-part presentation of the laws of finding and receiving free food. Given by God himself to Bwogger Christopher Morris-Lent. Today: 4-7.


Some first-years and a surprising amount of upperclassmen commit the inexcusable error of writing papers, completing problem sets, and generally studying in Butler.  These adrift souls fail to realize that the chances of scoring free food in the library is nil.  In fact, there is no food allowed whatsoever, unless you smuggle it in by means of backpack or purchase it at the crowded, unpleasant, and unsanitary Blue Java.  The thinking man’s solution is to work somewhere else, and what better venue than Lerner Hall, the throbbing nerve center of campus life and the Columbian capital of free food.  As your peers emerge from the library only halfway done with a paper and looking as exhausted and gaunt as Adrien Brody’s character in “The Pianist,” you will laugh in their faces as the more vital environment and easy access to brain food has enabled you to complete twice as much work while maintaining a ruddy complexion and voluptuous figure. 


Remember all of the fun and exciting floor bonding activities – ranging from excursions to the cultural watershed of San Gennaro to pumpkin-carving in the Carman basement – that your optimistic and enthusiastic RA has planned for your best of all possible floors in the best of all possible universities?  These are not going to happen.  Or, if they do: maybe one person will show up.  The sole thing my floor succeeded in organizing collectively after the initial ardor had worn off was study-breaks.  Every Wednesday evening it was the responsibility of a single four-person suite to provide cheap yet delicious sustenance to our floormates.  This was a dependable source of Diet Coke and chips with salsa until fifteen weeks later, when we ran out of suites and Carman 1101 declined to revive our floor’s flagging nationalism. 


In F. Scott Fitzgerald’s masterpiece “The Great Gatsby,” the homosexual narrator Nick Carraway describes an extravagant party thrown by the title character for the amusement of his friends and neighbors.  On page 40, Fitzgerald writes: “The bar is in full swing, and floating rounds of cocktails permeate the garden outside, until the air is alive with chatter and laughter, and casual innuendo and introductions forgotten on the spot, and enthusiastic meetings between women who never knew each other’s names” (Fitzgerald 40).  Similarly opulent soirees are also described in more recent literature, such as Brian Jacques’ “Redwall” series.  A few times a year, they can also be found at PrezBo’s house.  Unfortunately, the guest list is closed, making 60 Morningside Drive the most exclusive party spot in Manhattan since the tragic closing of Studio 54.  The layman’s best shot at gaining entry to this den of vice, then, is to come equipped with press credentials.  If you do make it in, I suggest pulling a Hunter S. Thompson and going gonzo journalism on the event as an excuse to chug down as much high-quality liquor as possible while reveling in the hors d’oeuvres. 


By the time orientation is over frat parties have most likely lost their novelty and room events featuring thirty people crammed into a Carman double sweating like bitches in heat and imbibing jungle juice are on the way out as well.  It is a fact that as you progress through college, your taste in parties becomes classier and classier, such that the venue ultimately shifts from the PIKE house to an East Campus townhouse and the party dynamic from hooking up with random drunk chicks to sharing a conversation with friends over cocktails and Sam Adams.  (In other words: these parties can be thought of as the lovechildren of PrezBo’s swanky soirees and PIKE’s weekly roofie revelry.)  Did I mention the food?  No latter-day college party is complete without at least a bag of chips or at most crackers with cheese and pepperoni to satiate the drunken munchies in a nutritious and pretentious manner.  And these can be yours too, free of charge – simply show up, pretend to know someone, and graze on the appetizers free of charge. 



  1. what a wanker

    bollinger never had booze when he invited his free speech class over to his house. that really blew, so i doubt booze-fuled gonzo journalism is much of an option at 'The Gatsby of Morningside Heights' pad.

    • fear not

      you just have to masquerade as one of prezbo's esteemed law students. seeketh out and befriend the denizens of jerome greene hall, and they shall slate thy thirsty throat with the libations of bar review.

  2. VOMIT

    I hope you enjoy your food line chow WITH MY VOMIT IN IT

  3. ???  

    Did you really just reference Redwall? As in the children's series?

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