Hi! I'm a member of Penn Dems. Have you registered to vote? No? Oh, no worries, haha. It just happens to be the most important thing that you could ever possibly imagine doing. No biggie though!

I may be powerless to stop you from blasting EDM at 2 a.m., but we have a public army of guards who will make sure that no innocent civilian is ever subjected to your Diplo remix of a song way more popular than the original.

What a lovely morning I was having. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I only had two stress dreams the night before.

Are you fresh out of underwear? Don't fear, we've got this one. We've cut down our deluge of delicatessen directions to our top four methods for crafting underwear out of deli meats.

Just like my mother, I believe in positive reinforcement. As a kid, when I would come home from school burnt out and tired, she would always make me a snack. It was something to look forward to. It was something that kept me excited to learn.

I know I might be a little intrusive, but I just really need to sit in the front row to concentrate. I find that sitting too far away from the professor creates a divide that’s challenging to get over, and it makes my undiagnosed ADHD run wild.

1. Whose dirty Tupperware is in the sink? a. Yeah that’s mine. I was up all night debugging my code. You can’t blame me there bro: school always comes first. But even though I have enough time to meal prep for the next six months, I don’t have the 30 seconds it takes to wash one, singular item of dishware. b. Listen buddy, I was exhausted after my day at OCR. Do you not understand how important the work that I’m doing is? Of course, it’s my Tupperware. But, dude, it’s one extra dish. Just wash it with your stuff. You’re being kind of selfish if you ask me.

Some people treat being busy like a competition. But I refuse to think like that. Despite being so busy with my 6.5 credits, 4 club commitments, and more papers than you probably have, I always find time in my packed schedule to shed some tears.

There’s a fox in the henhouse, and I know it’s you, Sharon. I bet you thought you were pretty damn clever with your “maybe you’d remember eating your own food if you didn’t come home blackout drunk four nights a week!” excuses. That is, at best, a flimsy cover, and, at worst, gaslighting.

Social chairs look no further—here’s how to plan a BYO when you haven’t slept since August and your phone autocorrects "dirty" to "darty."

I’m Bradley, a sophomore in Wharton from Greenwich, CT studying finance. I joined my Non-Hazing Fraternity last winter, and my buddy Jake is doing a sick job as Vice President of Frocket Tees, Coozies, and Croakies. Actually, check out the shirt I have on right now. It’s like an expensive brand but my frat, haha.

So you had a rough summer. Your friends wanted to talk to you, but you kept ghosting them. Now you've alienated all of them. How are you going to fix this?

So you moved in about three weeks ago, and it has been a whirlwind. After meeting your roommate, hanging out a ton with them during NSO, and then completely ditching them when you made your real friends, you’re beginning to notice some weird things they do. After speaking with several Penn scientists and psychopaths we know personally, we’ve compiled a list of five foolproof ways to tell if your roommate is a psychopath.

My roommate frequently misses her 8 a.m. recitation. Still, she makes an effort to attend her afternoon classes, saying she wants to "make the most of her tuition money." In fact, most of my friends, even if they skip one of their classes regularly, usually go to the others in order to stay on top of the course material.

Hey pals, what’s the haps? I know we’re still rotting away in the offices at the jobs our parents so graciously awarded us, but we NEED to do something fun for fall break this year. I was thinking Amalfi Coast? Maybe Dubai? I’d also be down for Sydney! It’ll be so simple to arrange a quick little weekend trip with my best friends.

I work for the president but like-minded colleagues and I have vowed to thwart parts of her wellness agenda.

My name is Chad and I’m a whore. I am also a feminist. But Mr. Preacher: being a feminist is not what makes me a whore—I promise.   

Wow. I never thought this day would come. After hearing the news two years ago about a freshman who managed to lose his big toe during the pool party, I always thought I'd be next. After all, I had already lost two Penn Cards, my pants, and at least a few brain cells during NSO.

Greetings, fellow members of Free & For Sale. I presume many of you are crossing the ol' Formal Reasoning and Analysis requirement off your respective Academic Planning Worksheets this fall. Perhaps the specter of MATH 103 or MATH 104 looms heavy on the horizon. If this indeed be the case, then have I got an offer for you!

Once I had this crazy idea, I couldn’t believe that no one had thought of it before.