The Thrill’s Senior Year Bucket List


It’s senior year and we’ve all swam in the Kokosing, smoked at sunset point, made out at sunset point, gotten too drunk at Send Off and dreamed of becoming a great chef, despite being a rat in an intensely rodent-phobic profession, moved to Paris to follow this dream on the advice of a rotund, french acid flashback, and with the help of a weak-ass garbage boy as our beard, worked in the kitchen, and eventually got the chance to prove our culinary abilities to a daddy long-leg lookin’ food critic, who turns out to have been bullied as a child and just needed some squash to feel better. 

But again, it’s senior year and we have to find something new to do to pass the time before we kick the bucket, and finally descend from this hill that has looked more and more like a collection of dentist’s offices since we’ve gotten here.

I now present to you, The Thrill’s Senior Year Bucket List:

  1. Secure post grad plans in whichever state Nate Winer will be in.
  2. Dismantle the administration from the ground up, starting with a moratorium on making us “get tickets” for free events happening in Rosse Hall and ending with the destruction of capitalism. 
  3. Take a dump in the library pit.
  4. Occupy Bexley and start a squatters community à la The Hunger Games’ District 13. Hey, Graham Gund, I’m more than just a piece in your games! 
  5. Replace the church bells with the tornado warning siren
  6. Go to Chuck ‘E Cheese and try and pay with K-card and when they don’t let you say “my father will hear about this” and by your father you really just mean Mark Kohlman.
  7. Send a “Hey, you up?” text to your UCC* at 1am.
  8. Drink a P.F. Kluge cocktail from the Alcove in the P.F. Kluge seminar room with P.F. Kluge, while listening to WALK THE MOON’s “Anna Sun” with Anna Sun also there.
  9. Build an elaborate igloo on Peirce lawn and call it The Allison Janney Farr Hall.
  10. Kidnap Leeman Kessler’s children

*For any underclassman reading this, UCCs or “Upper Class Counselors”, were what we called our Orientation Leaders back in the day when everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

It’s senior year so lets make it mediocre, baby.

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