Hello all. I declare a drought. No, I am not implying that there is any sort of water crisis plaguing central Ohio. Or that we are entering the sequel to the Dust Bowl. In all honesty, I wish that was the case. This, my friends, is far more pressing. I suppose it isn’t technically regarded as a “crisis”, however, I can no longer hold back my strong discontent with the set of eligible bachelors at Kenyon College. Upon undergoing the grueling college process, I was promised that I would be a big fish placed in a tiny, yet crystal clear pond filled with new eye candy. However, going on year two, I feel like a fish gasping for air in an above ground pool that has been drained.Continue reading
I know what you’re thinking: Really? We are still fully in a pandemic, we just had an election and Adele got skinny and you’re choosing to write a list of mundane tasks that mildly unattractive and wildly attractive people can do while looking equally stupid? And to that I say, you bet your bottom dollar that’s what I am going to do. Also, screw off I’m tired.Continue reading
Happy Halloweek! ‘Tis the season for inappropriate screenings of Michael Jackson’s music video for his poorly-aged classic “Thriller” and Instagram feeds clogged with images of two blondes wearing a scrap of cloth that reads “No Laws.” God, what a time to be alive. Well, I hate to break it to you, but things are going to be a bit different this year. We have masks! So now, as you contemplate how you are going to be the cast of Scooby Doo with your 5 person co-ed friend group, I have brainstormed a few ways we can dress pandemic-friendly.
Technology is completely and utterly disturbing. I don’t want to get all existential on you, but when you sit and really think about it, technology governs literally every aspect of our lives. It sure governs mine, anyway.Continue reading
Oh hey. It’s me. That’s right. I am that annoying 3/4 first year who robbed a division III baseball team of their dilapidated New Apt that they insist on calling their “trap house.” The rumors are true. I have never been to Springfest or seen the BFEC, yet I am tearing it up in a dingle room that would’ve belonged to an abroad junior. Ciao bella! I know, I know. You may argue, “she doesn’t deserve it! She needs to do her time in a graffitied prison tower or at least a shoebox single on South Campus.” And let me be the first to say, I hear you, I see you and most importantly, I am also as equally confused as to how I got here. I lived in a McBride Triple. A TRIPLE. Not one, not two, but three bodies coming in and out of a brick chamber where the halls oozed and icked Domino’s grease and cigarette smoke. The common room and the acclaimed sex closet were my neighbors. Let me tell you, those thin walls did not spare me.Continue reading