Poor little mammoth...

Proof that English-language sites don't have a monopoly on bizarre Web phenomena. Lifted from Becky's away message.

"The tiny mammoth wanted to fly. He tried and he tried but he couldn't fly. He went and cried to a duck, and from the fifth floor he made him jump off... What happened? Shit. The mammoth turned to shit..."

Tuesday, 11 hours.
Wednesday, 0 hours.
Wednesday night-Thursday, 12 hours! So exciting...

Upperclass dorms are so dead silent over Thanksgiving. It's so eerie without the familiar pot and loud guitar riffs or boisterous drinking that usually marks this end of the hall...