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This Issue 04/17/2008

Also in this issue

• I Am Your Father.
• The Defibrillator
• A Film to Visit
• Shoutgun Sounds
• The Week in Music

To UTV: Your ugly set and deafening sound make our eyes and ears bleed simultaneously. Please stop punishing us all for the failures of Penn athletics.

To Sigma Nu: Just stop.

To Mask & Wig: No Red and Blue at the end of Fling? A terrible decision that complemented the terrible set you played.

To the frat daddy who hate crimed the homos during Fling: Way to re-assert your masculinity.

To his girlfriend: Anal is hardly a fetish.

To the creepy couple in my Art History recitation: You're not nearly as intelligent as you think you are. So stop groping each other. Also... your ponytail annoys me. And why are you a 30-year-old freshman?

To Thomas Jefferson: Remember that time I told you that I was fucking John Adams? Well I WAS fucking John Adams! XOXO, Sally Hemings.

To the pedo-MBA with the bad male nose job: Referring to yourself in third person is ALMOST as cool as name dropping undergrads. You're totally right thinking cocaine binges with 20-year-olds will up your social status.

To Penn Environmental Group: Thanks for distributing recycling bins to all four of your members. It's too bad the carbon emissions you saved were offset by the massive ego of your president.

To the Fuzzy Chunk: Remember when you popped in that telepathic mind reader DVD? Remember how you completely lost your shit when the phone rang and it was "the magician" thanking you for watching? It wasn't the magician. The dude I asked to call you can barely read words, let alone minds. You can stop being paranoid now.

To morons who chain-smoke while walking down Locust: Picture this. You're marching along trying to get to class on time when you stumble into a huge cloud of ass gas. It smells of rotten eggs and broccoli and it seems to travel with you, no matter which way you move to avoid it. You squint and move your hands rapidly to fan it away, and only then can you see the fat fuck right in front of you, tooting as they go. This is my reality when you lead your death march across campus. All I can say is, you are damn lucky I haven't yet learned to aim farts at will.

To Puneet: No more years!

To SAC Exec Board: You're kind of like the really rich kid everyone passionately hates, but hangs out with anyway just because they have money.

To graduation: I'm going to pretend you're not there. Just like the clap.

To the girl in Chi-O whose name starts with a "J": Stop being such a whiny bitch. Love, the World.

To the girl who punched me in the face after formal: That's not what guys hope for when they get girls drunk. Punch me somewhere else next time.

To Penn administration: What is our school's name? UPenn? Penn? The University of Pennsylvania? Pick one and stick with it.

To Red Bulls: You keep getting bigger, we keep buying them.

To Fresh Grocer: There is nothing fresh about your food. You are the worst grocery store I have ever been in. EVER.