To the Phi Psi senior who fucked me on a beanbag chair in his otherwise empty basement on Valentine's Day: You're not the nice Jewish boy I thought you were.
To APES: I made you an account on ChristianMingle.
To every boy I've had sex with: When you all watch my Snap story, it's exciting.
To the self–proclaimed SWUGs: Like half of you have boyfriends and great jobs lined up.
To the Dreamboat in One in Four: Let’s talk about healthy relationships and then make one.
To SAE: I want to say that I'm sorry for peeing in a beer bottle and throwing it at your house, but I'm not.
To the Theos senior with the fugly manbun: Being "high and tight" does not make you "chic or cool."
To every frat on campus that doesn't let black people in: We know it's not our ratio. It's our melanin. (Ed. note: Social commentary game strong.)
To the hot guy in the Onda sweatshirt in my Comm class: I kept getting confused about your hair growing and shrinking so fast, and then I realized you are a triplet.
To the Theta senior that gave the entire senior/sophomore class of Theos mono: I don't think a neck brace can cure that.
Shoutout to the rocks that looked like birds when I was on acid!
To the boy who joined AEPi to be more "socially relevant": Uhh...
To the friendly Huntsman late night security guard: You're exactly like my dad except not fat, not Asian and able to stay awake past 8pm. Basically, I love you.
To my stomach: Is there a baby growing inside of you??? I'm too scared to take a pregnancy test so hoping you can just tell me via this Shoutout.
To the 26–year–old I've been texting: You're on the young side for my daddy complex, but you'll do.
To the guy who sits front and center in a 200 person lecture hall: Do you know that everyone can see when you spend ALL CLASS stalking pictures of Asian girls who you are not even Facebook friends with?
To United by Blue: Can we please just have a few more fucking chairs.
Penn Greek Life: Way to all get the exact same Kygo Fling tank. Replacing Kygo with your Greek letters was soooo creative.
To whoever reads these Shoutouts: Hey, what's up? Hope your day is swell!
To CityStep: we get it, you love you.
To the person that threw a lit cigarette down the radian trash chute: Fuck you for cock blocking.
To the Aphi girl in front of me in Econ right now who won't stop submitting shoutouts: Pay attention. I saw that C+ you got on the last midterm.
To the Phi Delt Bro with the "Reagan Bush 84" sticker on your computer: Oh god, how many of you are going to think this is about you?
To the boys who live in Domus that my roommates and I fucked: It's still embarrassing that you cabbed to 42nd because you were scared.
To the junior in Beta with the tattoos: Bro, wolves are so frat.
To people who sound like douchebags: It's pronounced fiii–nance not fuh-nonce.
To the guy buying coke at Bank of America: Do you know that's probably the most surveillance–heavy area on campus?
To the Lena Dunham ringer in my creative writing class: I both hate you and want to follow you on Twitter.
To OAX: Retroactively criticizing Panhel for reinforcing the patriarchy hasn't convinced anyone that you don't just want to drink with less rules.
To the ambulance driver who used his siren to honk at me in my fling tank and skirt: Just no.
To the junior in Theta that looks like Squidward: How many pictures will you upload before you smile in one of them?
To the Oz senior that shat himself at a Theos party two years ago and wiped his ass with a brother's cashmere sweater: This is your much overdue call out.
To Street: The Shoutouts aren't witty. They perpetuate the most toxic aspects of our campus culture. Please stop.
To my parents: All of the "extra fraternity dues" you pay for is cocaine, not "extra fraternity dues"
To my roommate: You know I have a guest over. Don't walk into the living room, in only your boxers, inexplicably holding your pants in hand and make small talk. Thrice.
To every rich kid at Penn: How are you gonna display your wealth and social status when it's too warm to wear your Canada Goose jacket outside?
To the orthodox Jews in Rodin: You the real MVPs for not using the washing machines on Friday nights or Saturdays.
To the girl shopping in lecture: That dress is FUGLY. C'mon you can do better.
Shoutout to Kygo for hitting the play button.
To the people who bought fling pool party tickets for over $100: No one remembers you being there anyway.
To the Uber driver with an in–house (in–car?) karaoke and disco lights: You, sir, are doing life right.
To literally every boy I've hooked up with: You're not allowed to hit me up months after I've gotten over you.
To the girl who keeps stealing bricks from locust: Chill the fuck out, I keep tripping.
To my big: I don't actually love you as much as I claim to on Facebook. Sorry.
To the workers of Pizza Hut and Dunkin' Donuts: Thank you for getting me.
To the M and W seniors: I like wig butts, and I cannot lie.
To the people in fling tanks that started with "if you're reading this": If you're reading this you its too late to return those tanks.
To Netflix: It's sad that you were all I could think of when I tried to come up with who deserved a shoutout. #doihavefriends #orjustgilmoregirls
To the Whartonite who fingered me on a balcony but didn't accept my friend request: You need to reconsider your conceptions of privacy.
To the manicurist who told me I "Could be a hand model": That's more encouragement than I've ever received from my own mother.
To the international kid who pointed at a pickle during brunch and asked "what's that": How have you managed to get this far?
To my roommate: We've identified the smell, and it's you.
To Castle: We get it, you're European. Stop turning your parties into a premature lung cancer competition.
To the OFSL people who punished SK: Thanks for maintaining that nice girls finish last.
To the cleaning lady: Please stop rearranging my sorority letters to spell STD.
To the Smokes' bouncer who said, "Sorry we don't accept fake IDs here": You accepted my fake orgasm the other night so...
To the girl who drunk dyed her hair: Don't drink and dye. P.S. You're still hot.
To the guy who tried to stick his toe in my vagina while I was blowing him: How many girls have you tried that with?
To Cosi: You can't just call a medium a grande like that.
To Kesha: At least David Guetta was up front about the fact that we were listening to a computer.
To the guy who just wanted to see my butt: Are you happy you got to see my butt?
To the absurd number of guys on Tinder with pictures of puppies: Stop. We know what you're doing. Just stop.
To my grandmother's jeweler's sister's daughter's best friend: My grandma told me to meet you when I came to Penn, so wanna get lunch some time?
To my boobs: Where r u? Still waiting...
To the freshmen in my Spanish class: It's not your fault, but if I hear another thing about which dining hall is best, I will murder all of you.
To premeds: Please stop acting like you're smarter than us. We CHOSE not to be doctors. Sincerely, Nursing students.
To Saladworks: Sorry not sorry, Love Sweetgreen.
To the sophomore who I saw doing webcam porn: Damn dude. Leave some dick for the rest of us.
To the handicapped button: Thank you for being the first and only boy to ever hold the door for me at Penn.
To the brown-eyed WilCafe barista: You're much shorter than me but honestly that's why I think it would work.
To Playboy: I've seen more people snort stuff in Huntsman than at parties—please consider that in your party school rankings next year.
To my mom: The cashier at Honest Tom's knows my name, so...YES I KNOW HOW TO FLIRT.
To the guy who kept asking me to say "Ich spreche kein Deutsch" during sex: I really don't speak German. And clearly neither do you.
To the guy who started randomly licking and biting my shoulder at that party: It wasn't the brownie that was the problem, it was you.
To the grad students who live next door: If you ever do an impromptu karaoke version of Ring of Fire again, I will set a ring of fire on your doorstep.
To St. A's: It's not cool, it's not "rock-and-roll", it's not "eighties"—it's a drug problem for which your white, rich, privileged A'sses have never faced legal or educational consequences.
To the kid who sends me blank space text messages as a booty call:
To the MBA's who crowd Huntsman's halls: I understand you're on a break from life but I need to get to class so please move your fucking ass.
To those who think it's socially acceptable to skip everyone waiting at Magic Carpet because you're "just getting a cookie": BITCH, I WON'T CUT THE LINE, BUT I WILL CUT YOU.
To Kappa Sig: At least you stopped playing cornhole.
To the girl who fucked my boyfriend and then interviewed me for a job: Is that why I got it?
To the football A's guy with the hair of Justin Beiber and the face of Dumbledore: Does a 3some with another guy make you gay or just part of Theos?
To the guys next door: We can see you fucking all the time and it's boring.
To the boy who thought it was okay to privately Venmo me a booty call: I'm worth more than 2 cents.
To my ex: I hope you have an easier time finding your next girlfriend than you did finding my clitoris.
To the guy who ignores me whenever he sees me on Locust: You weren't so quiet when I was sucking your dick last weekend.
To Phi Delt: In your defense, I think the situation blew up a little bit more than it needed to...
To my ex: Asking to be friends after breaking up is like...kidnappers asking to "keep in touch" after letting you go.
To Mask & Wig: Feathers don't make any of you funnier or look less average.
To the (graduating) needledick: I'm still going to shout you out every semester after you leave.
To my long distance girlfriend: Why did you decide to live in Hill?
To my Marketing 101 TA: I'm an undeveloped market. Penetrate me?
To Bon Appetit: You somehow give every undesirable vegetable an unwanted twist that no one really asked for.
To The Dude Who Emailed Me To Get His Boxers Back: Does this mean you looked me up on Penn Directory?
To Carriage: Was your chalking not straight on purpose?
To the guy who accidentally came inside of me and then was freaked out that the Plan B wouldn't work: Maybe you should rethink your pre-med career track.
To the TA that wrote my 79% blue book grade down as a 97% on Canvas last week: Does this count as "notifying the TA of any mistakes within 7 days?"
To the "junior" I hooked up with at a TEP party: If your immediate friend request didn't reveal that you were actually a freshman, your MGMT 100 pictures certainly did.
To every hot senior I've been meaning to hu with: Don't be alarmed by a cheeky 2am text in the next 2 weeks.
To the orthodox ape: your interest in my converted grandmother is a little creepy.
To the CIS professors: every time you chuckle when announcing the exam averages I smile knowing you were bullied in high school.
To AXO: We know how you feel. –Skulls
To the guy who said I look like the kind of girl who likes to be choked: you're not wrong, but it was an aggressive way to introduce yourself.
Shoutout to Joey who works the weekend night shift at Wawa for being the only guy I count on every Friday.
To Damien who shits in pools: Why? Way to ruin the pool party.
To my boyfriend: It wasn't a toothpaste stain.
To the two girls who stayed in AXO: What's it like to be sober and friendless?
To my sexually active roommate: I don't know why you start screaming "I'm coming" after two minutes. That's not how vaginas work.
To the shortest ape: I never get jealous when I see you with your girlfriend because my parents taught me to give used toys to the less fortunate.
To the 6'4" guy I hooked up with recently: none of my experience in product marketing could've foreseen my disappointment in the sizing of your package.
To the guy in the Blue Boa: Thanks for holding the door to Stiteler for me almost every day this semester. Chivalry is not dead. Also I like your beard