Der Prospy der Hölle

Hello Loyal Readers. Parish 103 would like to issue the following statement:

Parish 103 is honored and flattered at the burgeoning readership of "Vier Teufel in der Schlafhöhle". Parish 103 would like to apologize for the absense of writing over the last two weeks. Please understand that with the harrowing events of October 30th and 31st, the aggregate writership of the weblog has been incapacitated by shock and horror. Thank you.

It is worth noting that our readership has truly burgeoned, as reported by scientific estimates of the "Vier Teufel in der Schlafhöhle" Scientific Polling and Quantified Measurement Acquisitional Method Appropriation Team (VTidSSPQMAMAT) . Reports from said group show readership growth from approximately three people to at least four, including an overseas contingent. Thank you all.

The harrowing events of October 30th and 31st are related to the appearance of Cody, the prospy from Hell, in our gracious household. We magnanimously agreed to host said prospy. According to the email we got, "He is SUPER interested in languages and would really lake to stay in Parish house where he could experience that environment". We politely declined to note that "lake" is not a verb but rather a noun.

Said prospy arrived on Thursday, the day before Halloween. Cody spoke German the whole time, even if you spoke English to him. This was okay, but slightly obnoxious. Cody bragged that he had gotten a bajillion points on his IB exams. Cody was voted "best German speaker" in his grade at his Orange County school. Cody corrected any perceived mistakes in German anyone made. These things could have been written off as trying to be helpful. The worst was yet to come.

When I was in Germany, I had an adorable host brother named Paul who was eight years old. I rarely saw him because of a nasty divorce situation. On the last day I was there, Paul made signs in adorable little kid handwriting and bad grammar that said in German, "stop", "halt", "I don't want you to go. Don't go. You may not go", etc. It was the most heartwarming thing anyone had ever done for me, especially considering I hardly knew him.

I kept those signs and they're on our door now. A few days after Cody left, I noticed something peculiar. Someone had taken a red pen, crossed out the misspelled words on Paul's signs, and corrected their grammar and spelling. Unbelievable. The audacity of it. Somehow, Cody, Prospy from hell, had thought that these signs clearly written by a eight year old on our door were there for him to critique and correct. Now my keepsake of the memory of Paul, cutest eight year old ever, is defiled. I think its fair to say that Cody, who was obnoxious, had raised himself to status of "shitty human being". Congratulations, Cody. May you never come to Carleton. We'll do our part to make sure of that.

-Kevin