One of the reasons people love the Gripe Line is because it is a conduit to us at the A-T that offers complete and total anonymity. People can voice their opinions, say what’s on their minds or drunkenly slur through “Do You Know the Way to San Jose?” all without any fear of repercussions.

Well you know what? This crap has got to change. Normally in society, a person would be held responsible for telling bad ethnic jokes with the ethnic group being replaced with a fraternity, especially if he tells said joke to an answering machine via a cell phone that somebody shoved in his face as he was standing in line at the keg.

But also, sometimes people raise some good points in the Gripe Line. Not very often though. Well, actually never, but it could happen. And for that reason, and to punish the people who call the Gripe Line without knowing beforehand what they plan to say, I will now respond to various gripes left throughout this semester.

Of all the ninja species, the West African grazing ninja is the most deadly.

See, the problem with this is that nothing can be the “most deadly” of something if it’s known for its expert grazing. When’s the last time you saw a nature program proceed in the face of danger by filming the ferociously insane killer lamb?

There has got to be some species of ninja more deadly than one in West Africa famous for eating grass. Things that eat grass in West Africa get devoured by lions. Isn’t there some ninja in the Pacific Northwest that swims upstream to spawn or something? I’d imagine I’d be more afraid of that ninja killing me than the ninja slowly digesting plants in a field.

Since nobody has invited me to any of those house parties that I read about in the “Busted!” column, I spend hours reading the Gripe Line archive on the A-T Web site instead. Does that make me a loser?

When this originally appeared in the A-T, I wrote after it: “Editor’s note: No. It makes you the biggest winner ever because you said no to drugs and alcohol!” However, I have since changed my mind. While you are still a winner for saying no to drugs and alcohol, you are a loser for reading the Gripe Line archives because the Gripe Line blows. Sorry.

How do I get my roommate to talk to me again after he walked in on me masturbating to a picture of him and his sister?

Even though this person was clearly joking, since anybody who would say this and not be joking probably doesn’t know how to work a phone, I’m going to answer this question anyway.

You should lie. I recommend confronting your roommate and telling him you’re deeply in love with him and you cannot hide your secret love anymore. Then, after the awkward pause, burst out laughing and say it was all a joke.

As unlikely as it seems that he’ll believe you, especially if he reads the Gripe Line and decides there can’t be more than one other person on campus who this has happened to, he will believe you because he will want to believe that it was all a joke and he really doesn’t live with someone who ravages pictures of him and his sister.

Well, I just saw Carrot Top on Hollywood Squares wearing a trucker hat. I guess that’s not cool anymore.

While you are correct, I still would like to know why the hell you were watching Hollywood Squares when it would have been more entertaining and less painful to try to eat your lips.

Is it bad when you hit the page button to find the cordless phone and your roommate’s colon rings?

Just in case some of you haven’t noticed, the majority of the Gripe Line is about sodomy. Every week at least one person contributes a joke about something going up their poopie chute, although I’m only assuming these are jokes because I doubt most of these objects could actually fit in somebody’s anus.

If somebody really did lose a phone in their roommate’s small intestine, I’d imagine I’d read about it on the Internet before I’d read about it in the Gripe Line.

I’m not necessarily complaining about all the gripes about people’s asses. I just wish some of you tried being a little more creative with your tasteless-insertion humor. I’m heartbroken that none of these butt-sex gripes ended with “Rectum? Damn near killed him!”

We’ve already been sexist, racist and ethnocentric and it’s only six o’clock. And after hearing your stupid answering machine message, now we hate the people on the paper.

The reason I like this gripe is because I didn’t have to paraphrase it. This is what the person who left it said verbatim. Normally, gripes are several minutes long, repeated numerous times and don’t make any sense. This is most likely because people who call the Gripe Line are so drunk; they forget what they’re saying halfway through saying it, so they start to say it again.

I don’t have anything against long gripes. In fact, I think it’s hilarious when someone leaves a gripe, hesitates for a few seconds and then says it again slightly reworded. But there’s only so much room available for the Gripe Line. As fascinating as your novella on fraternities might be, I’d much rather use that space to run 12 gripes about sodomy and feces.

The same problem occurs with the actual Gripe Line answering machine. I’m sure your anecdote about how mean your CA is very interesting, but that doesn’t mean it’s still not wasting precious, precious answering machine tape.

However, if you buy a lovely Gripe Line T-shirt for a paltry $10, you can help us buy a new answering machine for the Gripe Line, and therefore you’ll never have to hear me whine about this again.