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As summer winds down and we get our last minute trips to the Hamptons and Ibiza out of the way, we prepare for the disgusting mess that is NSO. Juul pods? Check. Charged phone to send inevitable “You up?” texts at 6 pm? Check. Douchey outfit? Probably gotta rethink that one!
CJ Hoffman (W ’18) and fourteen of his closest Upsilon Gamma brothers wanted to treat themselves after their recent graduation. You know, since the treat of an Ivy League degree fully paid by their hardworking parents while remaining wholly financially dependent just wasn’t enough.
Michael Coyle (C ’19) is just like any other junior. He spent the fall sweet talking recruiters in Saxbys, the winter feeding his blossoming alcoholism in order to cope with the stress of school, and the spring enjoying the sunshine on College Green.
My Fling was just like yours. I pretended to have more fun at parties than I actually did, got the sickest wristband cuff tan, and wouldn’t have been caught dead at the concert. My primary sources of nutrients were Wishbone tenders soaked in Buffalo Bleu sauce with a crisp Green Apple Four Loko to wash it all down, and Magic Gardens running out of liquor was more tragic than the California droughts.
Hey! Hey, you! Yeah, you, the one procrastinating on the piles of work you have by scrolling through social media or pretending not to see me on Locust! Boy, do I have news for you.
Quaker Days—the grandiose commoditization of the college admissions process by wining and dining high school seniors—allows the University to give prospective students a raw, authentic, no frills look into what their lives as Penn students would look like. We as current students are constantly treated with delicious free meals, decorative cookies and Amy Gutmann appearances, so this makes sense.
Claire Johnson (E ’20) seemed to be simply minding her own business on her walk from “Gregory” to the “Engineering Quad” last Tuesday. Wait, does anyone actually know where those two places are? Or that they even definitively exist? Okay, cool, neither do we.
Mariana Rodriguez (C ’18) landed her dream job for after graduation. Well, it’s not actually her dream job, because no actually dreams of being a consultant, but congrats anyway, Mari! She’s looking forward to truly live out “Penn, but make it NYC” a la Tyra Banks and Amy Gutmann.
Ah, who doesn’t love a nice break to treat yourself from half a semester of late night studying, job hunting anxiety, and actively (or passively?) ghosting boys after sleeping with them? Better yet, who doesn’t love a nice break to treat yourself from spending five nights a week at Smokes, dropping every club on your resume, not doing jack shit for the past two months?
When you want something, ask for it. If you don’t get it, demand it angrily. If that still doesn’t work either, form a union! Pledges at Penn have heeded this advice, uniting over obscure forms of hazing in order to get something they desperately need: better health benefits.
Hey, Tiffany! Thanks so much for the invite to your birthday BYO this weekend. I can’t wait for forced interactions with people I barely know, sprinkled with some painfully awkward conversations about how we know you. Should be a fun time!
Oh, hey. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I guess right around three weeks, eh? That was when you invited me over at 2 am to watch a third of an episode of “Black Mirror” before promptly falling asleep, both of us fully clothed. I tried to be the little spoon and fall asleep with you, but you kept coughing and starfished the entire bed. So I went home.
Amazon recently announced the 20 cities remaining in the battle for HQ2, the tech company’s second headquarters in North America.
When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore. Or at least it was amore, because it’s definitely not anymore.
The beginning of a new semester has so many new and exciting things in store: textbooks you won’t buy until the night before the midterm, cuties in your Math 114 recitation that sort of make the cross-country journey to DRL worth it, and pests living off of hoarded Skinny Pop and cheese balls in your dorm room (probably the same mice who were responsible for last semester’s nightly anxiety attacks).
Cool! Your GEOL 439: “Rocks Rock” class has a final project instead of an exam. You have to stay on campus until the 21st anyway because of that one damn statistics exam scheduled super late, but still, cool!
Hey, Mr. Bouncer, my man! How’s your night going so far? Mine’s pretty great. I actually came here from another bar with my other 21+ friends you see around me. Oh, you want to see my ID? The second piece of legal identification I obtained, the first one being my birth certificate? For sure!
“Why is my body moisture-free? I’m able to listen to whatever songs I want—good music, even— how is that? I’m surrounded by people I care about instead of people with whom I’ll create fabricated relationships in which we ignore each other except for on Friday and Saturday nights. But... Why?”
What Evan Parlucci (C ’21) initially thought was a trendy, convenient addition to his iPhone ultimately resulted in his rapid demise.
Ah, homecoming: a blur of red and blue, “LOL, school spirit!” Instagram captions, and excuses to binge eat Copa Spanish fries at 4 pm.