As I looked across campus, I couldn't miss the mass movement of students turning up in all shades of green, making their total commitment to a progressive Green New Deal heard loud and clear. 

Dr. Blum is a real doctor, a surgeon. He doesn’t do cosmetic procedures.

I’m simply not qualified to get any of the jobs where I can shit all over the poor and not even know I’m doing it.

I know you were really stressed out about that calculus class when we last spoke a few months ago. I hope it’s going better! You are so smart.

Ever since me and my 500 roommates moved in, everyone has been so welcoming.

My parents pay my rent, and I see no indication that they will stop any time soon. They’re relieving a large financial burden on me, which allows me to fund my extremely expensive Ketamine habit. 

Men only want one thing, and it’s disgusting. However, I too only want one thing.

Are you telling me that not a single person made it to page 52 of my long-form satire from last week? 

You must be a freshman because you clearly don’t know who my daddy is. Can you even tell me, idiot? Seriously, bro, you don’t even know?

Not only am I paying for writing sem — I also couldn't be paid Gutmnan's salary to complete my peer review by tonight.

Don't worry about plagiarism or anything; you have my permission to just fling these into your work willy-nilly.

Philly is a city in need of a protector. And for the small, heavily guarded and heavily gentrified bubble that is Penn, Scoot Squad is up for the challenge.

It is hypothesized that if everyone were named Steinberg-Dietrich, the class system would collapse, as no one would be able to tell who the real Steiny-D is.

“Wouldn’t this toilet paper just look so good in my bathroom instead?”

But uh, hey, remember when we went to AC for Feb club?

It conveys that we're talking about the wee hours and imparts a hot, beefy aftertaste.

My creator has surely abandoned me in this time of need, left me to float in the warm, sweat-scented air of this metal container, hurtling upwards towards what I hope will be my eventual demise.

Not just my mom, though. I’d also like to be able to tell my friends and, perhaps most importantly, my many, many enemies. One day, I’m going to change my occupation on Facebook, and it’s probably going to get bare minimum 1000 likes.

Kevin isn't poor. I mean, I've met his parents. His dad is kind of ugly and his mom is hot, so yeah, I bet he's rich.

Think about it. If people here really got down and dirty before dating for at least seven months, I, of all people, would be reaping the benefits.