Ole Knows Best


If you’ve got Augie problems, you need Ole’s solutions.


Dear Ole,

I am a single, sophomore male here at Augustana. People say that the Augie Advantage for men is the “three females to every one male” ratio, but for me it’s turned into the Augie Disadvantage. I’m not looking for a relationship right now, but the girls keep throwing themselves at me because they’re starved for male companionship. What can I do to get them all to back off a little bit?


Drowning in Females


Dear Drowning in Females,

Well, there’s good news, and there’s bad news. The good news: if you’re ever looking for a girlfriend, you’ve got lots of options. The bad news: man-hungry ladies don’t take hints, and they won’t back down.

That leaves you with one option: become a master of avoidance. You’re going to have to go to the extremes here, stopping just short of severe self-disfigurement (unless you’re willing to consider that). Let me offer three nicer alternatives.

As spring approaches, the snow is melting, turning the whole of campus into a mud pit. This is to your benefit. As a plains-dweller, mud is your best bet for sufficient camouflage. I suggest a base of leaves with a top layer of dead leaves. Add some twigs for artistic accents, and you’ve got yourself a makeshift mossy oak! This should work quite well as you move from building to building or for any outdoor, necessary excursions. And if the women of Augustana do spot you, at least they’ll think you’re a weirdo. That might buy you some quality alone time.

Your second option is a little more risky, but has a higher chance at success. Befriend a janitor (that’s not the risky part). Steal their keys as soon as you can and make a copy of the tunnel key at your local hardware store. Now you have 24/7, girl-free campus access; you can get anywhere you need, completely unseen. Yes, the tunnels are unstable, but so are hormonal females. I’ll let you decide which is more dangerous.

These solutions, while helpful, can only guarantee you alone time when you have to be outdoors. Inside is a whole other ball game. At most schools, I could tell you to dress up and act like a serious nerd, but considering that probably 85 percent of Augustana students are science majors, nerds are in high demand and “geeking up” would be completely counterproductive. That being said, your only option for round-the-clock anti-girl coverage is cross-dressing.

As they say, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. And if you’re going to do it, you’ve got to do it right. Dresses. Make-up. Bras (they’re not as scary as they look). Hair accessories. Purses. Heels (at least three pairs). Animal print. The works, and I promise the females will leave you alone. The trick? You have to look more fabulous than they do.

And if worse comes to worst… enjoy the attention.




Dear Ole,

I’m thinking about transferring to USF, but I’m on the fence. What should I do?




Dear Confused,

I think “demented” would have been a more appropriate pseudonym, don’t you?

Here’s what I suggest: take two aspirin and lie down until the urge passes.

Nevertheless, I understand. It can be difficult to go to a school where everyone is awesome. Sometimes you just want to scream, “Someone find me some mediocrity already!” That’s why the college is phasing out the Deaf Education major. While excellence may be a core value, too much can be intimidating.

You’re thinking of transferring, huh? Let’s walk through this problem logically. I’ve gathered a few statistics to help make this transitional period a little easier for you.

So if mediocre is what you want, USF can give it to you, and for only two-thirds of the cost. Compared to Augustana’s 52 majors and 14 pre-professional programs (scratch that, 51… sorry, Deaf Ed), The University of Sioux Falls has 35 undergraduate majors and seven pre-professional programs. That’s a little more your speed, isn’t it?

And, even better, at USF, you can stay middle-road for longer! With a four year graduation rate of only 39 percent (compared to Augie’s 83), there’s no hurry to move on into a real career when you could be accruing more debt.

But I’m sensing the real problem here is Augustana’s daunting Forbes ranking of 212 out of 650 best American colleges. The University of Sioux Falls, comfortingly, isn’t even ranked.

Good luck at USF. You’re clearly too sub-par for this institution anyway.




Dear Ole,

I give really excellent advice, but no one seems to want to listen to me. What’s wrong? Is my advice secretly terrible, but no one will tell me? But most importantly, what do I do?




Dear Self,

I’ve been where you’re at. I’ve walked in those shoes. And trust me, it’s not easy. But when you have your own advice column, as you do, you’ve got to have a little faith in yourself.

Yes, it happens to the best of us. There will be those nights when you toss and turn, wondering endlessly, “Did I give them the right advice? Did I do all I could? Will they take it? And, if they don’t, are they idiots?”

But at these times, you’ve just got to remind yourself, “Ole, you’ve got your own advice column. Your readership includes more people than just your mom and the librarian! You’ve got so much to give! You’ve got so much to offer!”

The world will one day recognize your greatness and once that happens, your advice will reach the masses.

Everyone will be seeking out your advice. ‘What does Ole think?’ they’ll say to themselves. President Obama will be knocking on your door for advice on fiscal cliffs. OPEC will ask you how much they should charge for oil. Jordin Sparks will ask you how she’s supposed to breathe with no air.

One Direction will want to know how to make her know that she’s beautiful. TuPac will want to know when it’s okay to come out of hiding and let the world know that he’s actually alive. Texas will want to know if it should try to secede from the Union… again. Macklemore will ask you how many tags he can pop until he needs to go to Shopaholics Anonymous.

And, most importantly, Ken will want to know if Barbie’s just playing him because after all these years, she still hasn’t married him (and, after all, she never wears any underwear, which just doesn’t seem like a good sign). I am the master commander. And I am an advice-giving champion.

Chin up! Your advice is stellar. I realize it. You realize it. You’ve just got to wait a little longer until everyone else realizes it. So offer your friends one last piece of advice: “Listen to my advice, dummy.” Because I know you, and you know what you’re talking about.