Hey, I get it. Life’s been rough out there in the big world. Midterms, graphics projects, that girl in your Spanish class hasn’t texted you back. There’s a lot of things out there goin’ against you, pal. The economy, the politics, whatever. But $7.00 Apple Jacks is what breaks your back?! 

How about showing yourself some self-respect, ok? 

You’re here for a reason. No one comes here when they’re at their best. Munger Market is only for the chronically depressed, physically ill, and that one CS guy who comes here for gelato because his friends all went to Salt and Straw without him again and this is his payback, god-damn you Mark for not inviting him again!! That pack of Ramen isn’t going to make you happier. You’ll go back to your room, sans microwave, eat the dry, loud, crunchy noodles and realize this pursuit to fill this empty hole in your chest will never be fulfilled.

So keep that sad shit inside your room. The rat community here at Munger doesn’t appreciate your little cry sessions in the back dairy corner next to the avocados and cilantro. We’re trying to sleep and chow down.

When you walk into this pretend bodega, you’re always yapping: yap, yap, yap, yap. Sometimes, you’re on the phone wit’yo ma, walking seventeen circles around this place before exiting with a single pack of gum. Other times, you come with some friends and spend 45 minutes talking about John from Kappa Sig and how you’re so into him. Warning, loser, your friend Rebecca already slept with him. Twice. We heard all about it last week when her roommate spilled everything she “pinky promised” to keep secret: he has a third nipple on his back.

So grow up bud. Your $10.00 Totino’s Pizza Roll isn’t the root of your depression: your dumpster of a room is. Shut up, fork over that goofy card, and pay up. Go do your laundry, you heathen.

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