So, I'm walking down the sidewalk, swinging my bag, letting my hair become unfashionably slicked-back by the wind, minding my own business on the way to class.

And then, like seagull crap pouring from the sky at Cedar Point, a blob of spit hits me right below my cheekbone - a projectile from a quick-to-escape biker.

All right, I didn't get spit on, but if I did, I would instantly transform into a she-Hulk and rip that fool a new hole through which he or she could relieve themself.

My two biggest pet peeves on campus revolve around inconsiderate people, and these people scattered over MSU as frequently as those damn expired parking meters none of us feed.

I'm talking about the spitters and the bikers.

I grasp the notion that not all of you live on campus and some of you have no other choice but to ride your bike, but get off my heels, and don't expect me to move for you. Pedestrians have the right-of-way.

Walking won't kill you. It'll make you 20-times less of a sweat-pig when you get to class.

You see, the problem is, I've been cut off by one too many bikers this semester.

The other day, while walking to my 11:30 a.m. lab, I was greeted by a pack of seven bikers outside of Agriculture Hall who swarmed around me like flying monkeys from "The Wizard of Oz." It was a nightmare of wheels and chains. A calamity of tooth-bearing bikers out for walkers' blood.

You better watch your backs, bikers, because one day I'm going to be equipped with a long metal rod. And the next unfortunate bike-riding-fool who bothers me will get it jammed into their spokes, causing them to fall and break bones, spill blood and rip skin.

Then there are the spitters. Loogies, snot rockets or anything containing a substance from the nose/back of the throat/mouth disgusts me to the point of gagging.

It is not sexy, hip or funny to spit. In fact, spitting has to be the biggest turn-off I've ever witnessed in my entire 20 years of life.

So what if you have a chip lodged in the back of your throat - get a napkin or go to the bathroom.

And if you can't seem to swallow it while you're walking, bend over a bush or something - anything - to dislodge the mucus in your mouth. Watching a flying ball of substance shoot from your face and splatter to the ground is not something I care to witness.

Guys, this isn't directed only at you either. I see ladies spit just as frequently as I see you expel wads of junk from your mouth.

So, my suggestion for all of you spitting people is this. Why don't you all get together in a circle, make that magical throat noise that musters all the mucus in your body to your mouth, then stare the person across from you in the eyes and hack one on them?

I'm sure this will tick your opponent off to the point of them pummeling you to a pulp, and then maybe your precious mouth will be so battered, you won't be able to open it and taint the pretty sidewalks with phlegm.

Lindsey Anderson can be reached at ander848@msu.edu.