"Oh god. I gotta go, guys. Like, really go. #2."

That’s where College Candy comes in. We’re not going to debate whether or not the Theory of Relativity actually exists (a disappointment, I know, but I’m a communications major and stopped taking science classes after Baby Bio fresh year). However, we are here to thoroughly investigate the most widespread college knowledge (no, not rhyming)—the myth.

If you go to college, chances are you’ve eaten at a dining hall. You’ve experienced gourmet menu items such as “liquid mashed potatoes,” “Sahara-dry chicken” and “green jell-o with mysteriously hard parts around the edges.” And as delightful as your dining experience was, chances are you felt the results of that extra serving of corn a short time later as you were flooring it for the communal bathroom. And if you were just lucky enough to have a meal-plan (like I was my freshman year), you got to experience the joy of this routine three times a day. Every day. For a year.

I remember wondering what the hell was wrong with me; I’d never spent so much money on toilet paper and air freshener before in my life. Did college trigger an internal mechanism that doomed me to poop all the time for the rest of my life? “No,” my roommate said, “The dining halls put baby laxatives in the food, duh.”

“OMG, why would they do that to us?!” I demanded of her.

“Because that way people get hungrier faster after they eat and go back for more; it helps the school make more money.”

Or they do it so if a student gets food poisoning, the toxic waste (pun completely intended) will get out of their system faster. Or so that the students don’t get fat and give the school a bad reputation (because weight is obvi a huge indication of the quality of a school’s prestige and all.) Or because the empathetic food service people know how test stress and homesickness can constipate the youngin’s and they just wanna help things along. All of these reasons are the usual suspects for the explanation of this rumor…and they are all totally whack.

First of all, despite what you may think after tasting dorm food, there are health and safety standards (pretty rigorous ones, considering the widespread university distaste for lawsuits), so the idea of adding an un-prescribed medication to the masses is kinda ridiculous. Any medication, even OTC, has some kind of side effects. Imagine if a student had an allergic reaction, or died, as a result of these non-existent laxatives; yea, it would be the university’s turn to sh** themselves.

Also, even if the dining hall food did give someone food poisoning (I’m sure it’s happened), a laxative wouldn’t prevent the toxins from being absorbed by your body on the way out, no matter how fast it’s moving. There is absolutely no feasible reason for any university, anywhere, to allow its dining halls to slip a lil Ex-lax into the meat on Taco Tuesday. Consider this myth officially debunked.

What are some of the urban legends you hear around your campus? Share them in the comments section below. Our scientific team of experts (me, Google, and sometimes my best friend) is always looking for new myths to dispel!

After four years of attending a Big 10 school, I am now in big time debt.  I’ll be in even more debt after I return for yet another semester.  Do I have a job?  No.  Has my university made good on their promise to hook me up with sweet career options and internships?  No.  All jobs and internships that I have had were found on my own time and through my own devices (and only one of those actually had anything to do with my major).

So…what exactly am I paying for (besides education)??

Well, at least someone else is thinking along the same lines.  A Bronx woman is suing her college for $70,000 or roughly what she paid in tuition fees because the career center hasn’t given her any advice or career leads. 

Well well well – I can think of LOTS of things (besides my bleak future) for which I want my money back!  How about a lawsuit for all the fifths of alcohol I had to throw out my window or toss down the sink because my RA suddenly realized that my “study group” came in costumes and left wasted?  What about suing for mental ill health due to severe exam stress?  Or suing for the 15 lbs I gained sometime freshman year and haven’t managed to lose since then (despite the fact that my classes seem to be 14 miles apart from each other)?

I guess the point of this is that everyone is broke and we want some of our money back. We’re not getting what we paid for, dammit; the least they can do is cut us a check. Maybe the solution is getting rid of the university career centers (which are proving to be useless anyway) and giving a tuition break with all the money saved.  Or maybe we should all just stop whining and start taking responsibility for ourselves (I’m talking to you, Bronx Lady).

Either way, I’m gonna have to talk to someone about that water gun my Floor Mentor took from me freshman year.  That’s gotta be worth at least $2.50 by now…

1. The Full House Remake

You weren’t a child of the ’90s unless you watched “Full House” (and if you didn’t, you seriously missed out on some major TGIF action). You knew the Tanner family. You still catch reruns when you stumble upon them flipping through the channels. You pause, you catch a Kimmy Gibbler cameo and laugh, and you remember how things were. And that’s how it should be. Now that John “Uncle Jesse” Stamos is proposing a Full House remake show, all our classic memories may be tainted. Seeing the aged DJ and Steph and the rest of the gang is just going to make me feel like an old fart. And the next thing you know, people are going to start making covers of good ’90s songs, and I’m going to start thinking to myself, “the original ‘Quit Playin Games With My Heart’ was so much better,” and then I will have turned into my mother, and this can’t happen during my 20s.

2. The Obama Citizenship Scandal

I don’t quite follow why this is happening (for all practical purposes, the presidential transition is already underway, and the last thing this country needs is more divisive action), but someone is suing Barack Obama, disputing his US citizenship and thus his claim to the presidency. For the record, Obama was born on August 4, 1961 in Hawaii, which became a member of the Union in 1959. Now what’s the problem? (And let’s not forget that former-rival John McCain was born in Panama on US-zoned territory).

3. Being Born In December

My 21st birthday was this week. That’s right- no more of those nasty “underage” check marks on my hands when I go to concerts, no more ugly red print on my driver’s license and, oh yeah, I can go where I want, whenever I want! Ballin’! Except, there was no proper way for me to celebrate this momentous occasion because (uuugh) I just so happened to have entered the world during the worst week on the calendar: the last week of classes. My time management skills aside, I still have a buttload of reading to do, and all of my friends are handcuffed to their laptops writing end-of-semester papers. So even if I was truly free-as-a-bird, my list of drinking buddies was nil. I guess the only sobering (ha!) wisdom I accrued with this coming of age was that your rights don’t come without responsibilities. Hmph.

4. Ungrateful Bosses

This didn’t happen to me, but I am equally as pissed about it: my roommate, who is a senior applying to graduate school at the moment, recently asked her boss for a recommendation letter. She has worked for years at the same campus job, which is relevant to her career interests and graduate studies. But her boss refused to write her a letter, simply because she wasn’t available to work during a particularly busy time of year. First of all, she is a student, and she took a campus job with the mutual understanding between herself and her employer that her studies came first. Second of all, she has worked there all throughout her undergraduate career, and shouldn’t her loyalty count for something? And third of all, why is it so difficult for this man, who has known my roommate for three years, to write her a one-page recommendation? For Pete’s sake, she just wants to go to grad school, and she’s been doing b*tch work for years to get there. Help a sista out.

5. Snow

I love it, really I do, just not when I am trying to walk home from the bar in my cutest pair of flats.

Has anything similar to the above happened to you/pissed you off? What’s eating you this week? Seriously ladies, let it out – mama’s here for you!

Anyone who has ever been to New York City has most likely encountered Times Square’s Naked Cowboy. I never really understood the appeal of A) Times Square and its massive carbon footprint, or B) the appeal of a guitar-strumming man in his tightie whities (unless, of course, that man is John Mayer..mmmmm), but for some reason this dude is totally famous.

In Times Square, at least.

Well, now he’s taking his show on the road: to the New York City court system. As if being a naked cowboy wasn’t obnoxious enough, this dude is now suing the makers of M&M’s for stealing his “bit” in their latest ads in NYC.

His “bit” being taking off his clothes and playing the guitar for small children? Um…how is that not the issue here?!

But, poor guy has to hold onto something. I mean, this is all he has. Especially since his self confidence was totally shot when some 7th grade girls saw his…talent… and laughed in his face.

[Photo courtesy of AOL]

Let’s thank Hannah Montana for this one

OMG. THIS ELEPHANT. IS PAINTING. A SELF-PORTRAIT.

“The Hills” are alive…with legit life lessons

This just in: Paris Hilton wants to buy the world

Does this lawsuit match my bag?

You know, I’d rather sleep with Rob Lowe in his bed

Sometimes, you just crave some fried penis

Seriously, someone needs to take away their camera

Proof that Coldplay is really boring

Had I only taken more Airborne….my feverish mind reasoned as my roommate and I raced to the emergency room…I would be completely healthy right now…

Well, it turns out, I could have popped one hundred little Airborne tablets and it probably wouldn’t have made an ounce of difference (it also turns out that if you’re crazy sick and in an emergency room, crawling onto the floor and lying there gets you in to see a doctor way ahead of everyone else).

The makers of the popular take-it-and-you-won’t-get-sick tablet have recently settled a class-action lawsuit for $23.3 million, a lawsuit which claims that despite Airborne’s compelling advertising campaign, “There’s no credible evidence that what’s in Airborne can prevent colds or protect you from a germy environment”.

Even though the Food and Drug Administration never gave it’s seal of approval to Airborne, the company promised that people who took their fizzing tablets and gummy chews would be benefiting from a “cold curing” medicine—a statement they later changed to “immune boosting supplement”.

But even the whole “immune boosting” thing may be false. Airborne claimed their product was tested in a “double-blind, placebo-controlled study” that was “conducted with “care and professionalism””, when in actuality, two guys (who started the tests purely for the company’s benefit) without almost any training were in charge of figuring out if Airborne worked.

In 2006, Airborne made over $100 million from people just like me who believed (much too easily) in their ‘magic’ suppliment.

If you’re one of the bagillion suckers who really believed Airborne was going to keep you out of the doctor’s office (or emergency room, if you’re me), you can go here and get yourself a refund.

Sure, the man looks like a serial killer and admits to getting it on with, like, every one of his employees, but he sure knows how to sell a product!

We’ve all seen the ads – the racy, half-naked and scantily clad models (think the HOT Abercrombie & Fitch ads meets younger-looking hipsters). There’s something raw about these ads, almost dirty – and that’s exactly what is getting younger-looking hipsters to buy into the brand.

According to AMNY, one of the store managers said, “This is the Lower East Side….I would be disappointed in the neighborhood if it was offended by this. It’s not pornographic. This is art.”

The catch?

“The American Apparel ad may be in violation of state penal code section 245, which makes the “public display of offensive sexual material” punishable by up to a year in jail. Yet the penal code only applies if the display “appeals to prurient interest in sex,” a murky legal definition that is very hard to prove in court,” says AMNY.

So, is it tasteless sex or is it art?

I say it’s neither. It’s good advertisement, plain and simple. It goes along with what they’ve been trying to do all along, and I’m not surprised. So what if it pushes the envelope? This country is already ridiculous when it comes to the “Sex Sells” motto! True, anyone looking at these videos is gonna think SEX immediately – especially American Apparel’s college-aged target. But everything makes us think sex. The bananas in the dining hall make us think sex. Why not enjoy some harmless porn-like advertising on your way to class? That is, if you’re lucky enough to live in NYC.

But then the double standard kicks in, which makes me mad. They can show boobs in their windows but no man junk? What gives? I guess that, in the end, this proves that boobs are no big deal anyway. These ads will only create more buzz for the brand.

Boobs sell. No big deal. We all got ‘em.

Sauntering into the huge lecture room with confidence, I grabbed myself a blue book and 15-page questionnaire and found a seat. I had only spent a few hours studying the night before, but it was fine, because I was taking the class Pass/Fail, and had already secured enough good grades to keep me in the Pass range, no matter how I did on the final. Plus, it was Ancient Greek. Who does well on the final exam (which reviewed the entire year) in Ancient Greek? The coolness factor of learning a dead language wore off after the first couple of weeks, and by this exam, I was happy if I never say another Gamma or Delta in my life.

I proceeded to fail the final for three hours, and when finally satisfied with my poor memory and congregation skills, I passed the test in and walked out of the door. Who cares? I thought, practically skipping back to my dorm. No more Greek for the rest of my life!

The numbers came back, and I did indeed fail. Miserably. But as soon as I looked at my final grade, my nonchalance immediately disappeared. The Registrar didn’t have me down as P/F in Ancient Greek, they had me with a letter grade! A very horrible letter grade.

I was pissed, I was embarrassed, and most importantly, my workaholic status had been blemished. But what could I do? I had been an idiot. Twice. Once for never checking if the Registrar had my records in order, and twice for sitting in the back of the library and laughing with a friend instead of reviewing “Kronos and His Family”.

Little did I know, I could have sued.

This week, a 27-year-old guy filed a compliant against Columbia University for an F he received on a final exam. The nursing student claims he told professors he needed to miss the test to care for a sick relative, but when he came back, found that he had failed (in absentia, I’m guessing), and was cut from his program.

Nicholas Perrino claims the school ignored his appeals in the matter, and is now suing to get the F erased from his record, reinstated into his program, and have part of his tuition reimbursed.

If things really happened the way they did, I can understand the guy’s case. Real life should always come before school. But if he’s just BSing because he doesn’t want an F, he should cry me a river.

Nobody likes bad grades, dude. Even when they’re in Ancient Greek.

The enigmatic anonymity that the web provides was a big green light for mean teenagers to harass other mean teenagers without the consequences of face-to-face confrontations. And it was this online shield that facilitated the worst culprit behind my pubescent angst: the fake screenname.

Fake screennames were the best way to tear your enemy (or popular best friend) apart incognito. You could lash out ruthlessly, ruin lives and then delete said screenname without being linked to any of the drama that would surely ensue.

I will never forget my most potent digital nemesis: ClawYourEyesOut. ClawYourEyesOut not only harassed me on a nightly basis with the unoriginal “slut,” “bitch” name-calling. He/she also IMed my adorable little boyfriend Brad and my bitchy, gullible friends and spread nasty rumors which quickly turned them against me.

And even though ClawYourEyesOut brutally defamed my reputation, there was nothing I could do about it. To this day, ClawYourEyesOut’s identity still eludes me.

But thanks to two female Yale Law School grads—who suffered a magnified version of my ClawYourEyesOut saga, online anonymity may not be such an impenetrable issue in the future.

The two women are trying to uncover the identity of 28 pseudonyms behind discussion board posts that spread rumors about their academic records, sexuality and even threatened rape.

The anonymous statements—which MSNBC dubbed “digital graffiti”—were posted on AutoAdmit, a law-school discussion site where employers can dig up the dirt on prospective employees. This being the case, the libelous remarks cost the two women legal internships and job opportunities.

Had these defamatory statements been published online by a known person, the women would have a strong case since the libel laws which hold newspapers accountable for defamation of character extend to the blogosphere. However, since you can’t sue a pseudonym (ie: Erica Segal vs. SexyKitten143), these women are trying to unearth the identities behind the posts.

They are suing the website’s manager—who denied their request to remove the defamatory posts—in hopes of subpoenaing information about the anonymous posters (ie: what computers the posts came from…so anyone who posted from Starbucks lucked out).

If the women win this case, victims of anonymous online defamation and harmful unwanted attention—like Allison Stokke—may be able to uncover the living, breathing humans behind the name-calling keyboards.

Who knows… if I can prove that ClawYourEyesOut caused me serious emotional distress, maybe I can subpoena his/her identity and finally get some closure (read: seek revenge).

But I sucked it up the other day, and went to see Knocked Up. I must say, that’s like the funniest movie I’ve seen since, well… 40 Year Old Virgin. I don’t think I stopped laughing— nor did the rest of the theatre—for the entire movie. I could have sat there and watched Seth Rogen for another hour. By the end of it, I was slightly in love with him, and his stoner, weirdo friends. I now also want Leslie Mann (the drunk, vomiter in 40 Year Old Virgin with a much bigger and funnier part in this) to be my best friend. She’s freaking hilarious!

So I was a little upset to read last week that writer Judd Apatow is being sued for ripping the whole thing off. Turns out Canadian writer Rebecca Eckler wrote a startlingly similar book a few years back. In Eckler’s 2004 book titled Knocked Up, an up-and-coming journalist gets pregnant after getting drunk at her engagement party. OK, Katie Heigl is a journalist too, but she’s not engaged….

Eckler even claims that when she started to shop the book around Hollywood, she learned of Apatow’s script— whose cover was identical to her book jacket (a martini glass with a pacifier on the rim). Hmm, this is a little fishy.

I haven’t read the book, nor will I ever probably. The movie is just too damn funny, and I would like to believe that Apatow isn’t capable of such blatant thievery. He released a statement to TMZ (everyone goes straight to TMZ now, don’t they? Goodbye news networks!) which read, “Anyone who reads the book and sees the movie will instantly know that they are two very different stories about a common experience.” I wonder…. Anyone read the book?

I guess we’ll see what the outcome of this fiasco is. Regardless, Apatow is an insanely talented, hysterical writer. From his short-lived wonderful show Freaks and Geeks (does anyone remember that—Rogen was in it too), to the career-making vehicle for Steve Carell 40 Year Old Virgin, he has proved that he’s original, and just plain awesome. I hope it all works out in the end.

I’m also stoked to see Superbad—written by my new favorite, bumbling cutie Rogen, and starring some of the losers from Knocked Up! Though there’s already another pissed off writer claiming they stole the title from him….