While watching Parasite, I couldn’t help but wonder how much better the film could have been if all the actors were white, speaking English, and if it took place in rural Texas.
I will be walking to Center City this weekend, and none of you better try to fucking stop me.
I’ve been in this building since it was a women’s gym. Back then, there was excitement, activity, the smell of young sweat and hope. Now, it’s just stuffy English majors pretending to be interested in Marx or The Faerie Queene. I can’t take it anymore.
Caution, bus is turning. Yes, this bus. Turning now. Right now.
I entered 1920 Commons quite an everyday fellow: okay character, good head of hair, a personality both robust and mellow.
The sensual, voiceless, man-sized penguin can actually teach us a lot about life, love, and most importantly, the bedroom.
The old West and Down felt like a club run by a disorganized frat. The new West and Down feels like a club run by a disorganized branch of Triads.
Got something to say? Oops, couldn’t hear you over the sound of the cogs turning in my brain. And we’re chugging along… one way ticket to Smartsville, baby! Population: moi.
Compromising my integrity just to get a thrill is deadening, and I refuse to partake any longer. I’m saving divorce until marriage. Deal with it.
Feeling tired throughout the day? Hitting that 3 p.m. slump? Feel like there’s no way to regain the vigor of your youth? Well, I’m happy to say that my team and I have found a new life-hack to keep you pumped up and ready to blow at all times.
Maybe it's the Philadelphia talking, but I, for one, say that Gritty should have punched that kid.
(Given): But 5 AP Literature and Lang bad. No count. Also newspaper bad. They no real writing. Grate Gatsby and Belovd not real english. They no have see true writes before. How Dog Thonks real literacher.
So when I logged in and saw that Handshake was proposing Ice Sculptor as a potential career path for me, I knew I had to hear my best friend out.
I won’t be checking my texts — I’ve gone off the grid.
Everyone who has gone to Fro Gro knows that it is more difficult to pay for items than it is to steal them. In this vein, paying for items is both an excessive display of wealth and a gratuitous means of holding up the self-checkout line.
Oh, are you sad? Are you gonna cry? Are you gonna fucking cry like a wittle baby? Oh, that’s just classic. "But I love you, FroGro," you'll say through tears. Really? Then where were you when I needed you?
Ep Eta has two choices: it can either rebrand itself as simply an environmental club or fully embrace what it means to be a fraternity and make all its members eat bullfrogs.
Penn should pay PILOTS because aviators matter too, and I'm sick and tired of airplane PILOTS not being given the compensation they so clearly deserve.
Here are the top three toilets to sip from across campus.
In case that last bunch didn't do it for ya (didn't I do it for you?).