After four semesters of flailing around like a fish out of water through intro level Spanish classes, I have finally diagnosed the root cause of my struggles: I don’t speak Spanish, I speak English.
I am MicKinsey's, and McKinsey's mine.
I am a firm believer that millennials can change the world we already have. And by that I of course mean that they can, by 2030, physically consume all of the plastic ever created.
I just want to know how long I have to keep exploring my options, even though yeah, I know I interned here last summer too.
If you just embraced your beautiful, unpronounceable last name by allowing everyone in the United States to mock it, I think your edge would be that much sharper.
Ooh, do you think they’ll put in another Starbucks where this book place is? I could honestly really use some extra spots to procrastinate and buy coffee before class.
People who would ordinarily have never glanced up from their phones will now spend ten whole seconds reading my hat before looking — straight into my eyes — to see who the asshole in the MAGA hat is.
It started like all great cons do, out of necessity.
I'm basically a monster before I get my poppers. Know what I mean?
You haven’t even glanced at that material since the night before the first midterm. Hell, you haven’t glanced at the new material either, so now you’re doubly screwed.
You will inevitably pick the wrong ones, fail the first midterm, and not learn about the add/drop deadline until it's far too late.
Mumps. Just the mumps. I could see the mumps on him. Smell them.
Your response to the Penn Individual Student Survey (PISS) will help us to further enhance the general vibes on campus. Please complete your PISS by clicking on this link.
It can’t possibly be my fault I fell asleep during your class. The air was warm, the chairs were comfortable, and the room was literally pitch black.
I myself have many friends who have fallen victim to horrible addiction and by no fault of their own. No, it is the large, slimy, money-grubbing corporations that are to blame. They are the ones to profit from the addictive nature of the human body, and these corporate pigs care nothing for the individuals that are affected.
Martin Luther wrote 95 of them and still had the energy, motivation, and balls left over to spearhead the entire Reformation.
The flayed corpse of God is clearly controversial. For one, does God even have a corpse?
We could study, but only a little. We’d almost certainly be consumed by our passions.
I remember my history teacher told me that I wasn’t gonna get into college, my english teacher told me I would never get a job, and my french teacher told me something in French that I couldn’t really understand, but, based off his tone, it seemed like it was mean.
Is it too much to ask for smaller gyros to fit my dainty, feminine mouth?