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
Welcome to the 18th edition of ‘Gambier Ink!’ I decided to bring this feature into 2020 with a bit of a flare. I asked a few first-years about their tattoos and their possible significance. Completely by accident, I actually made a great argument for why 18 year olds should not have the ability to put permanent ink on their bodies. **Content warning: 3 out of the 4 of these tattoos are feet tats (completely accidental, I swear)… Forgive the borderline pornographic and obscene images I have attached.