Hey, it’s me, grandmagrandpa. I’ve cried twice over the past couple days, but now, my tears are dry and I’m ready to talk. You might be struggling, too. It’s February, for Gund’s sake. Whenever I talk to any of my friends, I say, “how are you?” and they say, “tired” or “IT’S FINE” or “aaaaAAAAHHhhhh,” which makes me think we’re all in need of a little pep talk. There, there, my sweet. Grandmagrandpa’s here. I promise that you’re going to be okay.
Hello, Kenyon. It is me, your grandmagrandpa Cat! It has come to my attention that a significant portion of you are from California, or Florida, or whatever other fake state kids are making up these days. This means you had no idea what to do in the terrible, horrible cold time of the polar vortex and will probably continue to be silly when the temperature (inevitably) drops again before spring actually arrives. I do not care WHAT the groundhog said. You are not leaving this house without your jacket, young man!
He is the little shadow-kitty parked directly in front of your feet as you walk to Peirce. He is the dirty boy tumbling in the gutters. He is the splash of ebony against a pile of leaves, loafing majestically in the sun. Most importantly, he is Moxie. Everyone loves him and he knows it. He often tricks folks into thinking he is a lost little lamb wandering in the woods. Don’t be fooled. He is smarter than you and he knows exactly what he is doing. Here’s a collection of his adventures.
You may or may not have heard about the recent romaine lettuce epidemic. The CDC has publicly stated multiple times that we do our best NOT to consume the Big Leaves until further notice. But what are the reasons behind this proclamation? What has happened to our lettuce? Who is destroying the sanctity of these vibrant emerald staples of American society? All this and more in my BIG LETTUCE CONSPIRACY THEORY INVESTIGATION.
During my stay at Kenyon over fall break, I saw… things. Terrifying things. Unimaginable things. Barely describable horrors, plaguing the campus, crawling to the surface once most of the College’s affluent students were tucked away safely in their New York City beds. Dare you peek into this Pandora’s Box of Kenyon horrors? You have been warned… what you see might SHOCK you… join me, as I reveal some of the cursed events I witnessed over break.