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We all have our things, right. Babies love their binkies, Grandmas love hugs, My uncle tom loves brushing my teeth. So riddle me this: why are they all allowed to flaunt their passions without shame but I have ONE poster of President Monica Lewinsky munchin on Bill Clinton's little pussy in the background in a zoom class and I crossed the line?
The pledge suffrage movement has officially gone too far. When they all wore dark shirts to our black light mixer as a statement, we let it slide. When they all chose to eat onions in solidarity with Pledge James, who had to eat 43 that night, we even applauded their comradery. But these motherfuckers just officially unionized, and they’re not messing around.
A wise man once said “If you give a man a fish one day, you give him one fish for that day, but if you teach a man how to be a fish, then he can be your fish for a lifetime”. This is exactly why I pay Lyn for my bacon egg and cheese by giving her one bite of my bacon egg and cheese.
If you’re reading this, I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’re nothing like me. I was very close to getting a bid at this frat that hugeshlong69 almost always put above the line of relevancy on GreekRank, and I didn’t even try. So let's just say this: you’ ve come to the right place. Even though dirty rush is 3 months long, if you move them hips with a purpose and you talk really fast, all it really takes is 30 seconds to lock in that early bid.
New College House resident, Andrew Young, was woken abruptly Thursday morning by what he thought were his own farts. He quickly made his way to the bathroom, hoping to avoid losing another mattress to the will of his bowels. Young sat atop his toilet, and pushed with all of his might, anger, and financial stress from buying 3 new mattresses in August alone, but nothing came out. “Peculiar”, Andrew said to himself with a British accent. As he pulled his trousers back up, and clipped his suspenders into place, he noticed something sticky and stinky beneath his right foot. Andrew looked down to find nothing else but another man’s poop enveloping his big toe. “My favorite toe!” Andrew shouted.
One year ago today, I stood where you are standing today: indoctrinated by leftist media’s fantasized tales of this “pandemic” and the “election”. But I stand here today a free man. Not only free of infectious lies told by Bill Gates, his unlawful wife Melinda, and their sex slave sweat shop they call their “Foundation”, but free of all of my “friends” who blocked me on facebook after I posted the undoctored photo of JFK’s assasination, with Obama holding a blowdart gun just feet away from this car.
This past weekend I got the chance to play Never Have I Ever with Penn Class of 2025...the entire Penn Class of 2025. Since Penn decided to cancel this year’s Quaker Days due to the ongoing pandemic, they have been juggling replacement ideas. After much deliberation, they decided to stuff the entire class into a cathedral (we also don't know why) with nothing besides 1000 handles of $8 vodka, a mysterious concoction called “The Truth Serum”, one glow stick, and me.
When does life truly begin? Is it at birth? Conception? Your first taste of the sweet, tender, glorious McRib? This is the million dollar question that political activists and abortion enthusiasts like myself have been asking since uteri were invented. I’m just gonna come out and say it: I hate babies...almost as much as those washed fuckers we call our “elders”. And while I understand that advocating for post-natal abortions may not sit well with the weak-hearted, baby-indulging, political left (or right), I feel we can find a mutually satisfying middle ground. I assert that babies should not be afforded the same rights as non-babies, and thus should be treated as second class citizens.
“When I decided to throw down tonight, it was less so because I felt like getting glizzy, and more so to stick a fat one to the establishment. You believe this narrative that a virus from a chinese bat came all the way to America and shut down our economy for a year!? Everyone knows bats can’t fly that far.”
New Student Orientation is pretty great as is, but just imagine if everything was farm themed. Think about it - replace the darties with tractor rides, the late nights with some lit ass land tilling. I know, I’m also queefing with excitement.
10:43 AM: It’s that time. Me, my Catholic Studies Professor, Sister Catherine, and Paul. Why did I choose Sister Catherine? Why the fuck wouldn’t I lol. Who’s Paul? Paul is a furloughed Mclelland chef who Penn reassigned to be our trip sitter (he made us eggs). Paul’s walking us into the room we’re supposed to stay in all day.
Listen, I’m not anti old people - I need to make that clear right off the bat. I just think that before we have a conversation about the negative effects of COVID-19, we should just quickly talk about the negative effects of the elderly. It really is nothing personal, I love ¾ of my grandparents dearly, I just think that right now, given our current circumstances with everything, they just may not be the best fit...for the world. And yeah I get it, life, regardless of whose it is, has intrinsic value...yada yada yada. But guys, come on. Let’s drop the act -- old people gotta go. Where’s my silent majority at on this one.
Hemo’s infamous Hemo Sauce is accredited by many to be the rock that holds our student body together. We’ve all been there - 2AM on a Thursday night, one failed booty call away from dropping out and becoming a full time incel when we open our fridge and find our tub of Hemo sauce, glowing in the thick of so much darkness.
Yup, you read that right. Our once trusted president, formerly loyal confidant, Amy Gutmann was spotted MASKLESS in Van Pelt Library changing her batteries.