I'm in Theta BTW.
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I'm in Theta BTW.
Disclaimer: Author is Chinese. Author does not engage in the list. This is fiction.
Heyyy besties, can you stop asking me if I’m being hazed? Hehe thanks. I’m going to tell you my deepest, darkest secret that I don’t tell anyyyyybody. Pinky (pink is my favorite color hehe) promise not to tell anyone? I don’t want a repeat of the whole class knowing I have anxiety-related diarrhea haha. Everybody poops right? Ok haha sorry I’m soooo ADHD, haha even though I got tested back in West Chester and the shrink said I’m just privileged and sheltered, I knowwwww I for sureeeee have ADHD hehe <3. Ok, my secret!! Sorry!!
The shit of bull is an art. Bullshit as the common man would have it. Bullocks? Baloney? Bologna? “Would Niccolò Machiavelli have agreed with the interpretation of his own text as a performance of fellatio on Lorenzo di Piero de' Medici (yes, in my villa we refer to him by his full name)?” – Synonyms that capture the same essence of the words that come out of the mouths of garçon stupide in my political thought class. These boys may see themselves as men or thinkers or philosophers or renaissance men. Labels are too confusing; truly a problem that comes with modern political thought. Certainly, as much as they are men, equal by their vulnerability to being killed by each other (or me out of annoyance, just kidding, that's the silly Eve-like woman coming out of me! They’re not even vulnerable to being killed by me because I’m not a human like them), they are also artists. Behold the art and the artist, put in plain vernacular English: Art: Bullshit; Artist: Political Science Boys.
Ugh! It's that time again—that bidaily time in which I make the tragic discovery that I still have a working bladder and kidneys. God damn it. It’s been 16 hours since my last panicked episode and I need to pee again—badly. Ah well! Time to look for my PennCard. Ugh! Not again! Where is my PennCard? My gateway to the throne! Alas, I misplace my royal scepter so often. In fact, every time I need to urinate, I seem to have nearly misplaced my shining piece of plastic. How inconvenient. Well, it must be somewhere in this room that I used my card to get into 16 hours ago and haven’t left since. Let’s see…
‘Tis the season for giving. In fact, this season is giving. It being mid-February, I know that you gold digger shawties and trust fund baddies are just itching to dribble a little money out of those Burberry pockets and help a good cause, like building schools for kids in Africa. It’s good to put your money where your heart is. Shop local and look no further than the Sorry Sluts of Locust. Better known as the 501 ©: Sorority Sisters.
Sometimes, discoveries and innovation seem like dumb luck. Why is Mondrian so famous for painting primary? Colored? Squares? Why is Newton such a genius for watching? An apple? Fall? Why did stupid Alex from Econ realize that if he got COVID during Rush week, he could stay in the Sheraton and skip class? People are given so much credit for the smallest of feats, simply because they did them before someone else could. I’m more impressed when achievements come at great costs: years of research, hours of suffering, etc. I love when new elements are discovered—scientists are just so smart.
Walking across Locust, one would not be challenged to find a thousand shining smiles, confident bounces in steps, and overall, joy to be alive. I mean, we shouldn’t be surprised. After all, these Locust dawdlers have everything to be happy about. There are winners and losers in every society. As members of the Penn conglomerate, these are the winners and they have the laurels to show for it; from first place in student debt to first place in embezzlement one year out of college, these students are doing it all. However, it would be a mistake to assume that students are universally happy or that they have reason to be. Unfortunately, not all of us get to go to the Caribbean when things in Philly get tough. That’s why we need to be honest with ourselves and break the Penn face.
Oh my god, I think I’m in love.
Get the runway ready, folks! There’s a new trend among us…
For a community once known to deviate from the norm, the queers succumb to lots of stereotypes. Face it, we can all name a homosexual man (colloquially known as a twink) who is otherwise incomplete without light washed skinny jeans (cuffed, to ensure maximal ankle to air exposure), an equally tailored shirt, and of course, an iced coffee (never with animal milk).
For starters, if you’re actually reading this article out of necessity, you should be a little embarrassed. Didn’t they teach you about laundering in boarding school?
As a society, in order to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past and maintain our completely racism-free present, it’s important that we practice erasure selectively and minimally, like when women share original thoughts in class or when school-related stress leads to suicides.
As a University, we can’t always rely on Penn to deliver good undergraduate teaching. Sometimes professors are just preoccupied with more pertinent matters, like research, advising, publishing, and extramarital affairs. What we can count on are the nearly competent students who are paid to fill these gaps (academically and bodily) as TA’s. Well I’m here to propose another paid opportunity that would spread the wealth and compensate students for keeping their classmates engaged.
Beloved members of the Penn Community: