Yawning wildly and staggering out of the filth-cave that his room has become, local roommate Charles Kalb was recently seen roaming the halls of 680 Lomita, growling for food and sustenance to keep himself well fed. Kalb, who had hunkered down for the last two months in order to stave off the harsh California winters and the ‘three fucking psets, man’, reportedly returned to his normal life last Friday, emerging from the gloom of his two room double tearing hunks from a loaf of bread and putting on pants for the first time in over a week.

“I thought he was a myth,” said fellow 680 resident Lori Neran, “I used to see his name on the door and knock, but I was kind of put off by all the guttural moaning and the strong smell of urine.” Kalb has remained hermit-like for the past few weeks, only appearing in 680 to slop food on to his plate at luch and dinner before returning to his den to sleep and feast. Said 680 RA Pauline Crimp, “Don’t get me wrong, we invited him to beer tasting last week, but he just grunted and started pouring animal crackers into his wide-open mouth.”

This process has become something of an annual tradition for Kalb, who regularly spends the second half of Winter Quarter in what he terms, ‘the work zone, dude.’ Its conclusion will come as some relief to his roommate John Duggan, who said, “I’m just glad he’s stopped dragging raw beef carcasses into the room.”

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