We like to stay pretty competitive here at The Thrill, and a Blog Off is one way we can definitively prove that one of us is objectively a better blogger (dare we say, a better person). So we leave it to you, the reader, to decide in a blind taste test who is really better as we square off on various topics. Today, we have Rebecca Kornman ’22 and Kathleen Stedman ’20 revisit the age-old question RE: Which weekend is the proper Halloweekend? October 25th-27th or November 2nd-4th? Who will make the most compelling argument? Reader, only you can decide.
Lord Graham Gund of Castle Kenyon sits atop his sacred Hill, glass in one hand, 2020 plan in the other. Tonight, he’s hosting a gala inside the Kenyon Athletic Center, his ballroom and playpen. A week ago, a single crow tapped upon your window, a crisp envelope caught in its beak. The bird presented you with an invitation to Lord Gund’s weekend extravaganza. Are you brave enough to attend? Grab your polyhedral dice and start rolling to find out…
It’s just a know fact that first years typically have a tendency to get confused, puke a lot, and aggressively attend all campus parties. We have all been there, so don’t be ashamed. Let’s take a look at some of our best/worst first year moments and hopefully you can relate!
The following is a joint statement made in collaboration by several former members of the Sexual Misconduct Advisers
Here at the Thrill, we love breaking the rules. Perhaps you read our feature on the library after dark. At least, you know that the ethos of this publication is rebellion, whether we like to accept it or not. I have never broken a rule in the name of the Thrill, but I know that accounts of my poor choices will always be welcomed here.
Today, my guys, this all changes. I am here to tell you the story of me breaking into a fenced in modular unit and hotboxing the shit out of one of its study rooms.
There’s absolutely nothing more fun than being somewhere you’re not supposed to be. I mean it, absolutely nothing: theme parks—overrated; getting whacked out on that sweet devil’s lettuce—doesn’t compare; playing catch in the front yard with your dad, and even though you’ve never really had the best hand-eye coordination and you didn’t realize you needed glasses until the eighth grade, he’s still trying his absolute best, because you’re his son and he loves you so much—not even close to how good it feels to loiter in a space that someone doesn’t want you to be in. Continue reading
Limber up and flex your inner selfish tendencies because it’s that time of year when all you can do is look out for number one. It’s the housing lottery and we asked our first year writers to react to their first experience involving this animalistic, bureaucratic ritual. Continue reading