Stupid Bitch! My Mom Refused to Upgrade Me to First Class on Our Family Trip To Bora Bora
Ugh. Just UGH!
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Ugh. Just UGH!
Damn, it’s like really nice out. But the weather app says 50% chance of rain, low of 59 Celsius high 78 Celsius for tomorrow. What should I wear?
It was Monday, 8:26 AM. After two days and two nights and two full breakdowns, I finished my seventh complex analysis problem set of the semester. All that was left to do was reach the end of the mirror lined hallways of DRL and slip my tear crusted papers under my professor’s door before the 8:30 AM deadline.
Years after the folks over at Pew Research Center undertook their greatest task of the century, the team has released their findings. After nearly two decades of painstaking "vibe assessment," lead researcher Dr. John Crawford has declared Penn "the chillest spot in the naish" ("naish" short for nation, that is). The study cites many factors, focusing primarily on students' "lowkey energy" and the campus's "sneaky sesh spots." Penn students were reportedly elated by the news, but not too excited to the point where it was weird or lame.
I would have voted for Obama in 2008 if I was of age. And probably again in 2012. My former cousin is gay. I can tolerate sushi. I am a progressive. I am committed to diversity, through and through. They say that 1 in 5 people in the world are Chinese. But if that’s true, why do I still have no ethnic friends?
Beep boop beep boop.
It has been a week since I’ve logged onto Path@Penn, and I have not gotten out since. A week ago, all I wanted to do was see if a class could fit into my schedule. Indeed it did, and I registered for the class. But that was when my problems started. Now, a week later, I am still trapped inside the never ending recursive, side-sliding windows of Path@Penn.
Shocking results from a STAT 102 midterm project sparked investigations into the hazardous environmental conditions of the David Rittenhouse Laboratories (DRL) and their direct affect on students’ health.
April means that a lucky batch of 2,400 seventeen-year-olds and a few degenerate twenty-odd-year-olds will commit to attending Penn this fall as part of the class of 2027. In President Liz Magill's words, this is set to be one of Penn's most diverse classes, with students from 49 states and 5 countries.
I sat at my laptop on a rainy spring night
I am writing this a day before the holy month of Ramadan, and although this article may be untimely, I shall tackle a rather important issue we have here at Penn. Far too many days have gone by with me overhearing “I’m gonna get halal” or being asked “Should we get halal for lunch” or straight up being asked “Could I get chicken over rice with only white sauce” (the last statement being made by crackers who can’t handle the ‘red’ sauce and somehow think I’m a halal food truck worker). Anyways, I pose two important questions here:
March 18th, 2023 began like any normal St Patty’s Day. Breathalyzers read 0.5 when exposed to the open air. Darties were beginning and getting shut down in the same exact millisecond. Eagles jerseys emerged from their drawers for the first time since Patrick Mabitchmotherfucker cheated the Birds out of the Superbowl. Life was as it should be.
Check it out. The building behind the former Mcdonald’s is actually sort of pretty, somehow. And the side of the Radian is surprising, in a comforting way, with all its angles and such. I think I’m starting to like it here.
BIRMINGHAM, AL – For just the third time in March Madness history, a 15 seed has made it to the sweet sixteen. Princeton took down the University of Arizona, who many projected to win the national title, before handedly defeating another formidable opponent in the University of Missouri. Next up is a tough, but not clearly not impossible, game versus Creighton in Louisville. Jokes aside for a second, let’s tip our cap to our neighbors to the Northeast. My roommate is from Princeton, and I usually take NJ Transit to New York out of Princeton Junction, so this one hits close to home for me. I am proud, I am in awe, and I am above all else happy. Those games were electric.
With dried sweat caked to my body and dirt under my fingernails, I awoke on the steps of a massive building. My mind was numb. I had little recollection of the day before, and certainly no idea how I had ended up here. Barely managing to pull myself off of the ground, I rose to survey my surroundings. There was a river nearby, lined on the bank nearest me with trees, grass, and park benches. A long, wide, empty boulevard separated me from the river. In the other direction, I could only see the massive compound of stone structures to which the steps I stood on led. I reckoned that the rest of this small-seeming city lay beyond, but I could not be sure. Since waking, I had not seen a soul. I had not heard a thing other than the wind in the trees and the soft flowing of the river. It seemed that no one was here. Then things started to click. I must be in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
UNIVERSITY CITY, PHILADELPHIA - Days before the start of Spring Break, neighborhood philanthropist and avid patron of the arts Kelly Writer was reaching a breaking point. Nearly thirty years ago, she opened her doors to the many brooding souls of Penn who needed a place to drink tea, write poetry, and wear turtlenecks and stuff. Now, her home was becoming overwhelmingly sad and boring. Where once the upandcoming spirit of artistic innovation permeated the air, the house now smelled like leftover halal and vape juice. Kelly began to consider the idea that her project was nearing an end.
A fenceless locust? A good Commons meal? That one off campus date night and the other on campus one? Yeah, none of these events truly unfolded. I’ve been rather observant recently. Its a wonder, actually, the unchanging nature of things around us. When was the last time you weren’t preparing for, taking, or recovering from a midterm? When is the last time you read a piece of UTB’s that did not leave you joyous/existential? None of the aforementioned events had ever happened.
Step into your imagination. Take a journey with me. You’re eating your chicken-and-rice bowl outside of McClelland. It’s delicious. The exotic blend of sauces are reminiscent of the majesty of the Silk Road, so much so that your mind is transported there. You see spice traders filtering in and out of the bazaar. Wait, there’s Marco Polo! Oh, and there’s a horde of Mongols under the command of the ferocious Ghengis Khan!
It seems that the engineering students have won again. Amidst a water main break on Saturday, emergency water services sent a flood down Spruce street as they made repairs. And yet despite this, a recent DP survey found the area was still nowhere near as wet as the sex-crazed engineering students they polled.
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