After spending too much time pretending like Penn actually has a syllabus week (or two), it’s time to start acting like the well–brought–up, sophisticated geniuses we all think we are. While we should've been hitting Van Pelt, we decided to do what we do best and hit the floor, the sidewalk, HUP, and any of the other places one finds themselves at 2 a.m, on a Friday night. For some, the biggest mistake of the weekend was waiting for that Greek Lady omelette for 45 minutes. For others, the word “mistake” doesn’t even begin to cover it.
A Theos brother got a little too lit last weeekend at a Lantern event. The blasted brother tried to make his way over to Smokes’, only to later arrive at what he believed was his final destination: the McDonald’s on 40th Street. Upon entering, he started yelling at the other patrons inside of McDonald's. Fortunately, for some, his flame began to fade and he soon passed out on one of the tables. One of his friends tried waking him up, but the sleeping junior fought back in protest. Abandoned by his fellow brothers, the boy was left inside McDonald's. Things got "Superbad" super fast, but this time there was no McLovin involved. The Theos boy woke up to find himself in the local hospital after MERT came to his rescue. To make things worse: no happy meal toy was included.
An SAE rush gave a whole new meaning to "drunken sailor" this weekend when he also ended up in the hospital. The rush was just trying to sea and be sean, but unfortunately never made it aboard the Yacht for their date night. While ashore, the rush tried climbing a fence in an attempt to escape the police before the big night had even started. The poor frosh then woke up three hours later to find himself in a NYC hospital with a sky–high BAC and a some cuts and bruises on his face. Maybe next year he'll be able to hit the high seas without get (ship)wrecked before departure.
We wouldn't be Highbrow if we didn't make you feel better about drunk–eating your roommate’s food and then throwing up on her carpet last week, so here's some more indecent info about what went down last weekend.
Thank your lucky Hall–stars that you weren’t on the rush bus coming back from the A’s New York date night, which rolled back to campus at 5:30 a.m. Sunday morning because of an unexpected flat tire. Sunday scaries just got scarier. Speaking of ending the weekend with a bang, a bucket list–busting babe thought it best to get down and dirty in the Owls second floor ball pit during a late night, further proving that sex in a bed is so 2016. I’m sure our bird–banger was living the teenage dream until she woke up in the morning with bruises all over her body and lots of questions. Word to the wise: if you bang in a ball pit, OWLways wear protection. On the more professional end, a poor new OAX biddie, unseasoned to the complicated world of party themes, showed up to a “Whiskey Business” Apes event in full on OCR attire. Somehow the “whiskey” part of the theme got lost in translation, but who says you can’t get weird in a pencil skirt. Not us.
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