College professors announce their late policy in one of two ways. They post it on the syllabus, or tell you on the first day of class. I retain no information from either of those things. Throw in the fact that I’m the O.J. Simpson (exclusively referring to his on-field work) of procrastinating, and I find myself in some tough deadline situations most semesters. The upside of this, is I have developed a catalogue of excellent excuses to hand in late work.
“I’m sick with grief over my missing guinea pig.”
Most professors will read this two or three times before they even think about responding. They won’t care enough to call you on your bluff, because if you show them a guinea pig corpse, they’re screwed. When asked about it, thank them for their support, and move on.
“Turns out my sickness was because my roommate fed me my guinea pig.”
This one only works as a sequel to the previous one. If you hate this class enough to make up a fictitious pet, you can weave a tale about you being such a bad roommate that they unwillingly fed you a Peruvian delicacy.
“My roommate said he was better than me at Madden. That simply can’t happen.”
This has a higher success rate with male professors than females. Men simply understand our shared competitive nature. If you show him one clip of you hitting a user playmaker on your roommate for a touchdown, he’ll know that you legally had to defend your honor.
“I’m lactose intolerant, and last night was fondue night.”
Everyone loves fondue. If you convince your professor that a scheduled fondue night is causing you to ride out the morning on your porcelain throne, they won’t deny it. They will likely thank you for keeping your odors out of their class, and buy a fondue machine on Amazon.
“I thought about Anthony Rendon, and got way too fired up.”
Only use this if your professor is a sports fan. This man is handicapping the career of two generational talents in baseball with his selfish contract. If he’s a true baseball fan, you might even convince him to cancel class over it.
“Jeans emergency.”
The vagueness here works to your advantage. If you simply email your professor, “Hey prof, can’t make it to class. Jeans emergency,” they will be so utterly confused that they’ll let it slide. As long as you don’t try to explain, they will assume it’s urgent.
“I’m in the midst of a Modern Family marathon.”
Sofia Vergara. Phil Dunphy. Need I say more? This show deserves to be revisited from time-to-time, and any person smart enough to teach college classes understands that.
“I pulled a hamstring dominating middle schoolers in pickup basketball.”
Just make it clear that they made fun of you, your weight, and your orange hair to start the interaction. Then make it clear that the full court chase down block you executed on a cocky twelve year old was justified, even if it left you bedridden for a few days.
