The Gambier Deli is back in action, baby, and we all know what that means. We’ve got eggs. We’ve got some hot sammies. We’ve got that nice bearded man who works/lives there, and yesterday when I was treating myself to brunch he saw me and said, “Hey buddy, long time, how’s it going?” and I felt truly validated for the first time in my life.
Look, we’ve all seen it happen before, right? A student’s answering or asking a question, has a quick slip of the tongue, and accidentally calls a teacher Mom or Dad. It’s embarrassing, sure, but it happens. And yeah, okay, that usually happens when you’re maybe eleven years old or something, but do you really think it couldn’t also happen to you when you’re older? I think it could; in fact I live in constant fear of it. Could you imagine?
Well, I have imagined, so you don’t have to. Here’s a list of professors I’ve had at this school ranked by how likely I think it is that I might accidentally refer to them as Dad, and look like a real baby boy in the process. I am so terrified of any of them reading this somehow.
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:
So, here’s the deal. I was supposed to do a whole Thanksgiving thing the week before break, but then we had Kenyon’s Darkest Day, and so that plan went down the drain pretty quick. I haven’t thought of anything new, though, so. We’re just going with Thanksgiving, I guess? Okay, here’s how to make a Thanksgiving turkey, I hope:
Kenyon is a literary as shit school and we love that here. Kenyon loves books, and the people who did books. Authors, you know? And poets and such. And there’s got to be a way to categorize all of these bad boys, and since no one really wants to think about, say, which Romantics match up with which First Year dorms (Coleridge would live in Gund, don’t @ me) we’re going to do frats, so buckle in.