Living With The Shame of Asking for No Veggies

I’m sorry, Little One, but I only eat raw hot sauce packets now

In a normal year, Peirce Dining Hall is an underappreciated hub of Kenyon social life. This year, it is the only rock in the peopleless ocean we call a college campus, and for that I am forever grateful. The fact that all this wonderful food is cooked seven days a week specifically for us is something that I’m not about to take for granted, and I want to show my Peirce Hall fandom in any way I can; any way except one.

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Oops, Google Meets Glitched and My Professor is Now an Unspeakable Mass of Flesh

Juan Gris, “Portrait of Pablo Picasso,” 1912
Oil on canvas, on Google Meets

Here I sit in my English seminar, taking in the blissful college life at Kenyon College. Except today, that life has been trapped inside my laptop, and made prisoner of the manifold abomination framed in green on the Google Meet.

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10 o’clock list: Suggestions for Facial Hair to Grow in Secret

When grown correctly, the beard will be completely undetectable.

Alright, this one is for the boys. Ladies, we respect your space, but this one is just for the dudes. The real bros out there, you know what I’m talking about. I’m talking cigar-smoking, ice-eating, born-from-the-tailpipe-of-a-Ford-F150-type boys. Fellas, hombres, today we crack the coldest one of all: are people going to laugh at our facial hair?

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Far Too Young for My Bones to Hurt

Many thanks and apologies to the Capri-Sun corporation.

‘Tis the season of fall, the changing of the weather. Summertime may end, but the Thrill is weekly. I must write once more.

As I sit down at my dorm-issue desk in my black plastic dorm-issue chair, I feel an aching where my thigh bone meets my kneecap. For a second I mistake it for my metaphorical ache, my middle-class ennui, but soon I come to realize it is real, real pain, ouch, hang on I need to stand up.

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Try This One Easy Trick for Social Distancing: Being Fast As Fuck

Pictured: Sonic the Hedgehog, the only movie this year to outrun the coronavirus

Morning in Gambier comes with the crunch of shoes on gravel. Swarms of students from north and south campus converge upon the hundred-or-so square feet of class area. In a better time, we would have all walked side by side as friends, except for that one friend who has to walk behind.

Now we are all that friend, as social distancing mandates personal space. With the mass of people moving between classes, how can one possibly hope to properly follow CDC guidelines?

As my hero once told me, “Gotta go fast.”

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