Perhaps I am just too old for these young’uns, but I feel Oakland’s campus has been overrun by swarms of fast-footed, quick-witted freshmen. If you’ve never seen the sitcom “Dinosaurs”, we are obviously too removed to speak to each other.

I’m somewhere between a junior and super-super-senior. I stopped labeling my class rank when my Facebook exploded with my high school peers’ photos of degrees and I hadn’t started the process of enrolling in collegiate activities. That was my bad.

The pandemic wasn’t this bad last year. In 2012, however, the kiddies have come out in droves. Maybe OU is on their game this year with recruiting students, or more likely, parents can’t jive to the tuition for MSU and the higher probability of teen pregnancy.

“Stay at home, Stacy. I’m not going to be on one of those damn MTV shows about your junkie boyfriends slow reaction time.”

Luckily, I have crossed off all my basic courses that could possibly hoard these fresh, malleable minded individuals. My blocks contain only like-minded peers who also enjoy contemporary adult abortion humor.

But a man has got to eat, and warm bananas in the pouch of my backpack only satisfy for so long. From my experiences in the Oakland Center, I’d rather remove my foot “Saw” style and gnaw at the bloody stump than enter the crowd of crowing kids paying for something of similar taste and appearance.

You know someone is new to OU when they’re mesmerized by Michigan’s lone Chick-fil-A, then debate themselves whether it’s ethical to eat the processed sandwich or not.

If you like the chicken, then grab the damn sandwich and move on and quit using it as a platform for your sexual identity. I know where I stand in the world, and I adore chicken. Vamanos.

It’s cliché at this point, but you knew parking was going to be a project before coming to campus. It’s redundantly ripped on each year. The rule is “walk, don’t stalk.” Michigan has the fifth-highest obesity rate, and your upcoming schedule will prevent you from eating well-balanced meals. Walk your jiggling buns to class.

I am hopeful that with more students entering the atmosphere that some imprint of school spirit will stick unlike the usual trend of shuffling through welcome week activities and then immediately home.

There’s tons of clubs with open arms for you beatniks. Learn something. Pick up a hobby. Understand the physics of Quidditch. Swim in Beer Lake.

Go to the sporting events. The student-athletes are highly determined people and put forth their best efforts, the least you can do is fill a seat. If anyone needs tickets to the O’rena, I’ve got tickets for $20, two for $30. I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a bear.

OU is home to all lifestyles, but after time has whittled you down, the freshmen will become one of us strange quirky folk. Have your skepticism for now and wait until you’re a super senior.