Exams are over, and now, I can officially say that I am once again a bum. Living slightly above the level of a hobo, I can afford 75 cents to purchase a USA today that I can use to sleep under, or as kindling for the fire that I will use for warmth and to cook my rat-burgers. Yes, it could be worse.

You see, these unemployed, couch-ridden summers are an opportunity for me, and not just to catch up on what those crazy characters are getting up to on General Hospital. This summer I will be taking the opportunity to prepare myself for life after college.

As a communications major I have essentially relegated myself to a lifestyle of squalor. I will live my parent's house until he dies. Then, I will probably use what ever pittance is left to move into a rundown shack in some ghetto neighborhood where I will have to make friends with the best-armed crack dealer in order to ensure my own safety. I'll invite him over to watch the Superbowl, and since I can't afford a TV, he'll steal one from whoever he killed that morning, then we'll high five and eat nachos.

Assuming I live long enough, I will eventually reach a point when my unemployability (as an arts major) causes me to be evicted from my shanty. At this point, I will live on a street corner in the financial district, because there are rich people there who, due to old fashioned Catholic guilt, will give me money, as well as plenty of hot dog vendors who will allow me to wash up in their steamy hot dog water. Hobo sweat adds flavor, they will tell me.

During the winter, I will huddle around a trash can fire with the other hobos, and discuss how we ended up that way. Leroy will tell us how his wife divorced him and took everything he had. Smith will tell us his war story -- we'll all think he's full of shit, "Gulf War Syndrome is just bullshit," we'll say. Breezy... well, she's just a dirty hippie, I'll probably smack her around for being annoying. Eventually, I'll lean over, closer to the trash can, and toss my once-prized possession, my diploma, onto the fire -- sheepskin burns warm my friends... $140,000 worth of heat, I'll tell myself, as I drift off to sleep and the other hobos rob me of my trinkets.

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