So unfortunately I didn't observe any major instances of Isla Vista debauchery this weekend, although I'm sure there was plenty of it happening elsewhere. I did, however, catch a snippet of an inebriated conversation as I was walking home on Thursday night: right as I was about to pass Freebirds (a hotbed of intellectual conversation, especially on a Thursday at midnight), I walked past two girls who were clearly a bit buzzed. They walked arm in arm, either as a safeguard from the cold or as a tool to keep them walking straight, and I overheard them talking about the profound nature of psychological behavior in very hushed, serious tones.
"Some girls are just... they're just bad apples. They're just bad. They're rotten."
"Yeah? That's true..."
"Don't be an apple. That's it. DON'T be an apple."
Words to live by, folks.