Allow me to preface this column with a few statements:

I love the University of Michigan. I wouldn't trade my four years here for anything. Ann Arbor has become one of my best friends, and I will keep visiting her no matter where life takes me.

That said, there are so many maddening things about this school, this town and the people here that I just can't stay quiet any longer.

I'm not sure if anyone remembers, but I had a column in The Statement two years ago, where I detailed some of these peculiarities and nuances that drove me particularly insane. Well, after raising some controversial points of view, the powers-that-be at the Daily stopped letting me write the column after a single semester.

Two years later, they are allowing me one last hurrah. I guess it's a reward for all my hard work over the past four years. Or maybe it's because I've been bugging them about giving me back my column since they decided to cancel it.

I'm hoping this breakdown of what really grinds my gears on this campus will make someone buy me a beer the next time they see me at the bar. More than likely, though, most will want to hunt me down and drive a knife into my back.

Either way, at least I'll know you read the column. So enough with the introduction - this is what's been on my mind recently.

 I realize helping out sick children is the worthiest of worthy causes, but has anyone else noticed that C.S. Mott Children's Hospital has a monopoly on charitable donations in this town? Everywhere I look on campus, I see a new fundraiser and then the disclaimer, "benefiting C.S. Mott's." I'm not mad about it, because that's just evil. I'm more frustrated than anything.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not calling for the end of donations to Mott's, but I think we can all get a little more creative here. There needs to be some sort of donation sharing (like revenue sharing in baseball) where every charity - whether it's for kids, the homeless, veterans, etc. - gets a decent amount of the bounty. Plus, Mott's already has the financial backing of the University, the state and the rest of the country because of its esteemed reputation. And it's not like patients there are just getting treatment for free.

And where is all this money going to anyway? There's still no cure for cancer and many other terrible diseases. And yet, Mott's is currently building a state-of-the-art hospital complete with crucial medical innovations like a workout facility, several courtyards and scenic views of the Huron River.

On the other hand, there are places for the homeless like soup kitchens or shelters that barely receive enough public funding to stay open and could really use the private donations.

 Ever since I set foot on campus, a debate has raged among my friends, and I don't think there has ever been a concrete answer.

What is the better burrito, Panchero's or BTB? Most people have told me BTB is head and shoulders better than anything Panchero's could ever concoct.

Unfortunately, most of you are wrong and don't deserve to enjoy any sort of burrito at all. Panchero's offers a fresh-made tortilla every time you step into the place. And that's before you take into account that, as a customer, you get to see and choose exactly what is being put into your burrito.

Meanwhile, over at BTB or Cantina or whatever it's called these days, you have a packaged tortilla that gets put on a grill for less than a minute. Oh yeah, and the ingredients in the burrito? It's pretty much up to BTB to decide that.

You can argue with me if you want about this, but I won't listen. Anyone who likes BTB over Panchero's doesn't really deserve to have a conversation with me.

 Speaking of Ann Arbor restaurants, the Quickie Burger logo is offensively awesome, and whoever wants it removed should go to another school.

 Don't think I forgot about the Interfraternity Council and the debacle they call a social policy. A disclaimer: I am a member of the Greek system, but in no way condone what the idiots who run the system do.

When you think about it, the social policy is almost as dumb as Pacman Jones, the infamous Tennessee Titans cornerback, who tried to "make it rain" in a strip club last year.

Pacman thought "making it rain" with more than $80,000 was an awesome idea. He had money to spare, and the masses could indulge in his excess - a victory for both sides. The IFC thought having people bring their own booze would be good for both sides, too. Partygoers wouldn't have to fear the jungle juice being served to them, and the fraternities would no longer be held liable for some freshman passing out drunk in their house.