Maybe you have, on numerous occasions, stopped your car while cruising for a parking space, stepped out with sledge-hammer in hand, and casually pounded the nearest parked car into a pile of metal and rubber the size of a 5 oz. I know I have. I've got two grade-school kids who consistently take this kind of predicament to its logical conclusion on a daily basis. I'M in charge of building a skyscraper. Alien, scumbag, skyscraper people come in as many shapes and sizes as us normal people.
Class is dismissed.
Okay, okay, I know on the surface this sounds a little radical, but hear me out. We could replace Anderson and Fairchild Halls with one great big hole in the ground, fill it with water, and offer co-ed, nude swimming and sunbathing. I can't speak for his wife, but I think President Wefald would go for it. They will never know what hit them. Brad Seabourn is a graduate student in grain science and industry.