I Drank Out of Bowls For Three Days and Sorry I’m Enlightened Now (But Not Really)

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photo cred: Mollie Greenberg, who would like to say “I think you could associate me with liquids”

Look around you. The world is two big bowls pressed together with a cranberry vinaigrette salad in the middle. Your head is a bowl for the squishy computer we call the brain. Your hands are just flexi-bowls. Eyes? Bowls. Your heart is a bowl for the slippery blood which breaths emotion and heartburn into you. Bowls, even, are fashion (see below).

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Actually Yummy Peirce Hacks: Wiggins Street Mocha

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So, most of us drink coffee. The sweet, sweet bitter drink that makes you work like something has grabbed hold of your mind and shoved it into a bucket of water and electrocuted it. Or maybe that’s just me. Anyway, being on this good Episcopalian campus, we must walk down Middle Path at least a billion times a day, and on this walk we must pass Wiggin Street Coffee.

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Kenyon Pets: Colin the Betta Fish

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Colin is a red and purple lil’ betta dude that I purchased at Mount Vernon’s own “We lov pets” as a consolation when my mother strongly advised against me buying a rabbit on Craigslist. She also shot down my idea to adopt a cat or even just steal Moxie off the streets. Among the many shelves of tiny cups of fishies, Colin immediately spoke to me with his shiny fins and feisty attitude. I got him a tank, gravel, a weird boot to hide in, and a fake plant. What can I say? I like to spoil my son. Since bringing this beast home with me, I’ve discovered that he’s a total freak.

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Spooky poetry inspired by the market sandwich

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alamy stock photo

Last weekend, our writer Tyler Raso put dozens of Thrill headlines into a bot, and then forced the bot, against its and our will, to generate content for us. Every day this week, one article on the site will be one of the prompts the bot generated. These are our stories.

Peers, friends, lovers. How does one even begin to broach the subject of the market sandwich? How does one even look one in the eye and dare to love? I am at a loss, at a standstill. Where do I start? At the lettuce? The bread? The Thousand Island dressing? I must confess I’ve never felt this way about anything before. A love like this is a burden. It haunts me, consumes me, fills me with something dark and urgent, and, Reader, I am afraid.

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Where to Find a Stephen

WHERE'S STEPHEN

Last weekend, our writer Tyler Raso put dozens of Thrill headlines into a bot, and then forced the bot, against its and our will, to generate content for us. Every day this week, one article on the site will be one of the prompts the bot generated. These are our stories.

 

So this one was really tough to figure out, but, I was tasked with figuring out where to find a Stephen. Did I succeed? Watch the video below to find out:

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Look At This COW

Last weekend, our writer Tyler Raso put dozens of Thrill headlines into a bot, and then forced the bot, against its and our will, to generate content for us. Every day this week, one article on the site will be one of the prompts the bot generated. These are our stories.

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Cows are everywhere. Here are some bot suggestions for our favorite cows.

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