To the girl in line in front of me at Mark's Cafe who threw a tantrum because an employee neglected to put soy milk in her Mocha Javalanche: The composition of your afternoon's beverage should not be that important to you. The fact that it is, I believe, makes you a terrible person.
To everyone: We all heard that you're a big deal around here. Movie quotes don't make you funny.
To Theta: You just keep going downhill. I wish my mother would let me deactivate.
To the girl I sharted on while getting head: Sorry.
To my Asian fraternity brother who doesn't play ping pong: What's the deal? You're a disgrace to your race.
To that senior IFC member in Kappa Sig: Stop pretending you are southern. We all know you are from Miami. Just because you are in KappaSig does not mean that you get to wear a cowboy hat and say "y'all" all the time, shithead.
To TEP: Shut up already. Nobody gives a fuck who you are, or what kind of moisturizer you use.
To the girl with the enormous buttocks in my recitation: Don't worry, Snoop likes the bitches with a big backyard.
To Penn: Give me my diploma already, you jerks. Seriously, five years?
To the Penn police responsible for the brutality last Thursday night: next time, could you just beat the fat girls with the short skirts?
To the "ZBT" brothers: Stop being so damn cocky in your black pants and square toed leather shoes. You all have tiny dicks --believe me I know.
To PJ the lacrosse player: I've thought you were real sexy since the days when you lived in the same hall as my ex-boyfriend freshman year. Can we get down and dirty on the field soon?
To the Asian chick who walks around in the surgical mask: This is America -- there's no SARS here. Lose the mask, tool.
To my tolerance: Why are you lower than my GPA?
To the freshman girl who peed on the floor at AEPi during NSO: We remember your face. Good luck at rush.
To the girl in my house who leaves a mountain of hair in the shower every day: stop asking everyone else to clean up the hair. You're an animal. It's disgusting.
To my best friend who stole my boyfriend: You're a fat slut, and you can't spell. I hope your children are dyslexic and look like monkeys.
To the cute girl who thinks she's a shark: You're really cute and all, but can you not bite in public? I think it makes people stare.
To the fire crotch on the lightweight men's crew team: Don't worry that we cut your hair off Sunday night. You can always tape your pubes onto your head to replace the lost hair.
To the Jesus who lives at 40th and Baltimore: For every 40 minute shower you take, God kills a kitten.
To the hairy mo-fo who sits behind me in econ: This country already has enough lawnmowers. Your green card is about to expire.
To my Tulane refugee friend: Congratulations on finally getting a date with a Penn girl.
To all the girls on Locust Walk wearing sunglasses large enough to obscure virtually all your face: We get it. You're ugly. Get over it. We obviously already have as we continue to hook up with you.
To the guy who works at Allegro's who mumbled under his breath that I was a pussy because I asked for extra bleu cheese with my extra-hot buffalo wings: You work at Allegro's, nuff said.
To everyone: Stop fucking talking about facebook, seriously.
To my polisci 181 prof who skipped over me because I asked him to repeat the question: It was then that I decided to kill you, you unpublished son of a bitch.
To the girl at the Beta Halloween party who threw her fireman's helmet at me: I would make love to you in a heartbeat.
To the construction workers down by the tennis courts near DRL: I'm wearing spandex to go to the gym, not for you.
To the girl who spilled beer on my computer and gave me a blowjob as payment: You're a whore, and I don't care.
To the girl that offered my boyfriend a blowjob sophomore year: I don't hold it against you. After all, given your career prospects after graduation, I figured you simply wanted more work experience. Oh, and one more thing: you're fat.
To the yarmulke boy in BIO--221: Shut the fuck up. Everyone hates you, you obnoxious prick. You're not smarter than the professor, get over it.
To my bitchin' ass roommate who bakes in spandex or possibly nude: Don't worry that boys don't have our backs, lady. What with the rabbit (vroom vroom) and our friends, we'll make do. We put the sexy in sexually frustrated.
To the freshman girl in the white bikini: Congratulations on solidifying your reputation as a complete whore. You didn't have to blow those 13 SAE guys to prove it. Guess that was just for fun.
To my finance teacher who overheard me talking about anal sex on the first day of class: I know it's why you gave me an A. A lot of lube and, yes, I enjoyed it. Now you know, so stop giving me that look!
To the dude who left me flowers outside my Hamilton door: Be a man and own up!
To our housemate whose sex keeps us up at night: We would be angry, but the minute of laughter we get is worth it.
To the one-browed wonder: Mark my words, it'll happen before we graduate.
Dear MK: If your vagina was a TV show, it would be Empty Nest. GET SOME.
To a certain TEP senior: Sorry, we've fallen asleep on you, refused to sleep with you and walked out on you, but you have a small penis. Love, two of your regulars.
To all guys with hairy backs: WAX THEM!!
Dear Penn Rowing: Everyone I know who rows either hates it or is an asshole. What the schmoo?
To whoever took the dump on the fourth floor of Van Pelt: How does it feel to clog a toilet for two weeks? No seriously, I'm curious.
To everyone at Penn who voted for Bush: Thanks for imperialist war, corporate embezzlement, administrative sloth, prejudice, and vindictiveness, flagrant neglect of environment thereby exacerbating climate change and possibly termination of my right to have an abortion so the government will cut you tax breaks on your trust fund inheritances. Way to prioritize.
To the senior auditor in my film 101 class who never shut up until spontaneously disappearing after the midterm: Just because you're 80 doesn't mean you have anything interesting to say. P.S. You're a misogynist.
To the guy who asked me out on facebook: Just don't poke me, and we can forget this never happened.
Hey foreigner who is always on the third floor of Pottruck at 5 p.m.: In America we generally don't flex our abs and check ourselves out in the mirror in the middle of a crowded gym room. Just a thought.
To the Orthodox boy who dumped my shiksa ass: When we broke up i mixed up all of your meat and dairy spoons, ha!
To my film professor who taught us that the '60s started with Woodstock in 1961: We appreciate your argument that "if you remember the '60s, you weren't really there." However, if you teach the '60s, you should know the FIRST thing about them.
To all those guys who tell chicks that they're in Mask and Wig but actually just worked as crew for the set: Why would you even want to pretend that you're in Mask and Wig? It doesn't work on so many levels.
To the Izzy and Zoe's lady with a face growing on her herpes: Stop working in the food service industry.
To Dan Kline: I'm your number one fan. Love, Dan Kline.
To 34th Street: Where'd the funny go?
To the president of the senior class: You were such a disappointment, as was the size of your penis.
To the random boy who passed out on our couch last night: Thanks for wetting yourself in your sleep and leaving us that little gift to remember you by. We'll treasure it forever. --4009 Pine St
To the Penn girl at Izzy and Zoe's wearing a t-shirt, gym shorts, an oversized designer bag and suede cowboy boots: I hate you and all that you stand for.
To the loquacious Writer's House senior who has been in three of my f-ing writing seminars and talks incessantly about her breasteses and how much everyone else's papers are "cliche" and "stale": Shut the fuck up. Shut. the. Fuck. up. Seriously, shut the fuck up.
To the idiot who used the compliment "It was amazing but not in a slutty way": This will not fly in the real world. And no, I will not hook up with you again.
To the trustees: Were you trying to be ironic when you replaced a psychologist who studied eating disorders with Amy Gutmann, or did it just work out that way?
To New Jersey: Go to hell. Oh wait -- that's a bit redundant, isn't it?
To Penn boyfriends: Turn off your Xbox, and pay attention to your girlfriends. Otherwise we will get lonely and start looking elsewhere ... On second thought, keep playing.
To the girl who lost 50 lbs over the summer: yeah you're hot now. Yeah, I didn't talk to you last year because you were fat. But who cares? Let's fuck.
To my guy friend who always bitches about his girlfriend: Just kill her already.
To T.O.: I'm trying to sleep. Shut your loud mouth, I can hear you from High Rise South.
To the Orthodox Jews who live below me: Since when is cocaine kosher?
To the only guy in my Women's History class: No one cares what you think. It's not that you have a penis, its that you clearly don't have a brain. No one wants to hear your asinine theories, and no one is impressed by your comments that are clearly intended to show what a forward thinking, new age kinda guy you are.
To the guy in my French class: I hope you're acing class, because you're failing at life, you pretentious little ass-kissing whartonite freshman.
To Benjamin Franklin "Scholars": How is it that every time I'm in a class with you, I feel like I'm surrounded by some of the dumbest kids at Penn?
To the pudgy Asian lesbian in J. Mac's Greek History: Nobody is impressed, so shut the F up, and quit munching Athena's ancient muffbox you got something in your teeth.
To the transfer student bonesmuggler that got pipe railed in a Hamilton high rise window: Welcome to shoutouts, this is how we do.
To the girl who pooped in the hallway at Beta and blamed it on her dog: We know the truth.
To my French 140 teacher who can't pronounce the letter 'h': I think you are -ot. Please give me -ead.
To the girl in my a capella group: I swear that one day, with God as my witness, I will fuck the shit out of you.
To my passive-aggressive roommate: Verbal communication has been working for civilized people since the dawn of time. Try it sometime. How's this for passive-aggressive, bitch! P.S. Would you mind cleaning the bathroom?
To Drew Rossenhaus: I respectively disagree with the way in which you conduct business.
To the Indian kid in my criminology class: Want to know why everyone moves away when you sit down? It's because you smell like a dead body sprinkled in feces. Take a fucking shower.
To Bloomers: It's not that women aren't funny, it's just that you all suck.
To the couple in HRN's rooftop: It's enough to listen to you snicker and flirt for hours on end. Here's an idea: Girl, why don't you straddle your boyfriend in a lounge chair and makeout with him in the center area? Better yet, do this on a Wednesday night. My bad, you already did.
To the Penn Safe van driver who ran a red light and blindsided my cab: I know it's hard to provide students with a good definition of irony, but honestly.
To the creepy girl in my seminar who never stops smiling: You either want me or want to kill me. I'm not sure which is more frightening.
To the Council of Brussels: I don't get it.
To Amy Gutmann: It's the Mask & Wig Club, not Wig & Masks. And you're a shitty speaker.
