Hello friends foes and all of your toes! As you all must know, (due to the absolute rancid stench we’ve been experiencing) Queen’s has been overrun with hoards of lovely lovely froshies who’ve decided to stink up the place. I’ll be honest with you all, I wasn’t aware of this issue until I read Principal Deane’s statement on the stench where he called the frosh “stinky shits” and I thought he was totally over exaggerating (as old white men do) until I walked out of my lovely rotting student home to experience the fresh pleasant summer air filled with frosh odorants. I’ll never forget the first whiff I took, wafting the Kingston air into my lungs as tears streamed from my eyes that first week of September. It hit me like a Queen’s Plant Services van plowing through campus. I was horrified. Sickened. Disturbed. I suppose, despite the discourse, Principle Deane may have been right to throw cans of Axe body spray through res windows, but that alone won’t solve the problem.
I’ve seen frec’s handing out dry shampoo and body sprays for the youth to use but thats the equivalent of smoking a fat doobie and then spraying yourself down with Bath and Body Works’ Warm Vanilla Sugar/Vanilla Noel body spray. You still reek and we all know where you’ve been. The poor frosh aren’t even aware of the absolutely putrid stench they’ve been carrying around with them. They spray their stinky selves in Batiste and old spice and walk to lecture, allowing etherington hall to brew the combination of smells into a cloud of yuck. I’ve truly never experienced a stench so bad that green gasses (and possibly greenhouse gasses) radiate out from the source like in the cartoons until I walked through the Brown zone during move-in week. If I hadn’t been social distancing already due to C0V1D, I definitely would be now. I’ve seen frosh pass the stench to each other through touch alone, like the cheese touch but moldier, stinkier, and way sweatier.
Now, I know most of you are wondering, why don’t the stinky froshies just take a god damn shower? At first, I thought the same. You pay 15k for your res room and utilities yet you refuse to use them? But then, I understood. I put myself in the shoes of the wee lass I was in my first year, and I remembered my floormates jizzing in the shower stalls, pissing down the drains, and dropping massive dookies into our pipes. I remember the tub shower we had at west campus that would flood just enough to cover your feet in the nasty drain water for the entirety of your shower. I remembered being so afraid to even touch the walls of the showers. I remember the tales of toe fungus being contracted by showering without shower shoes. I remember these trying times as a frosh, and so I try to empathize. I try so hard.
What can we do? To help the frosh, not much. We’ve gotta let the frosh learn from experience and figure it out for themselves so they can learn valuable life lessons about hygiene and body odour. To help ourselves? I’m glad you asked! Burning any of your extra Queen’s Journal papers in your backyard will both give you warmth in the harsh kingston winters (and I know your student housing has no heating) as well as fill your yard with spells of campfire in the woods! You could totally go the route of getting yourself stinky and smelly by rolling around the floor of the bathrooms by Lazy and assimilating to frosh culture. If neither of those options work for you, transfer to Brock or suck it up.
This editorial is dedicated to my lovely fros- I mean *ehem* first years I had the pleasure of orienting last year. They smelt awful!