To the guy who booty texted me emojis: I'm an English major. Use your words.

To the sock fetish guy on Grindr: Thank you for funding my second semester via Snapchat cash.

To Banana Leaf: I've had more epiphanies in your bathroom than in my philosophy class.

To the girls in ADPi who buy a table at every Owls brunch: Your kitten heels tell us you don’t belong here.

To Hangify: While your orange logo is blinding, I can still see that you're just a Facebook Events copycat.

To Philo: Congrats on being over 200 years old, but your capes are still weird as fuck. 

To the guy who mixes chicken into his protein shakes: Your biceps aren’t the only disappointing part of your body.

To my roommate: Those phone calls I take whenever you walk in the room are as fake as your Insta posts.

To the slowest salad maker ever at Sweetgreen: Lettuce hurry this the fuck up, please.

To the junior in SDT who started a rumor “just to see how far it would get”: You are what is wrong with this school.

To every guy I've hooked up with at Penn: Stop fucking adding me on LinkedIn.

To the super senior in my French class who wears transition shades: Your momentary blindness upon entering class brings me joy every day.

To guys with 30+ second SnapStories: Glad your social media presence lasts longer than you do in bed.

To the boy yelling "Who wants to buy Molly?" out of a high rise window: You're in Wharton, come up with a better sales pitch.

To the girl sitting in front of me in Econ: Everyone can see your shoutout submissions and they're almost just as bad as your midterm grade.

To Hip City Veg: You and my ex boyfriend were only good for one thing: you're good with whips.

To the Castle Arsonist: Sorry for telling you I didn't need you for sex, I didn't realize things would get so heated.

To the betches kicking around a soccer ball on College Green in over the knee Stuart Weitzman boots: At least other people try to make their SABsing a little more subtle.

To Hillary Clinton: I’ve never seen someone try so hard to make other people like them since I reflected on my own life and personality.

To the touchscreens at Honeygrow: Thank you letting me order a salad when the social interaction of Sweetgreen is too much.

To the two guys that whipped their dicks out during the middle of carnival and started peeing: I wanted to see dicks this weekend, but not like this. Not like this.

To the catcaller who "likes the freckle on my left titty": Your attention to detail is both impressive and insulting.

To the homeless guy who asked me what I'm majoring in: Penn has rubbed off on you. 

To the roommate I hate: I didn't have an orgasm, I just wanted to make you as uncomfortable as possible.

To the Mask and Wig boy who came into my room freshman year wearing boxers and Christmas lights: You were lit before it was cool. 

To my comp lit professor: Baristas at Starbucks spell my name correctly more often than you do.

To everyone on campus: Please don't judge my post fling faded flash tat look. My shame is strong enough. 

To Theos: We're the house that always calls the cops on you.

To the Oz guy who called himself a wizard in bed: With the size of your staff, I would change your nickname.

To the SDT Junior finally dating a ZBT Junior: Thank god you've decided to give in to the stereotype. 

To the girl shopping for vibrators online in class: You do you... literally. 

To the Ginger in Phi Delt: I can't decide if you have the voice of angel or a prepubescent boy? 

To the people in my classes who I ran into during Fling: Just because I gave you six drunk hugs doesn't mean I remember your name.

To the THEOSTHEOSTHEOS Twitter: Please come back. You're the hero we need, not the hero we deserve. 

To the girl who kept leaving her $10,000 watch in the bathroom: Let's just say I wouldn't wear that anymore. ;)

To Crows: Do you play your music that loud so people think it's coming from Castle? 

To Roomie: It's really cool that someone's paying you to bring the 25+ unopened packages sitting in our room back with you to Mother Russia. JW, what exactly are you smuggling? LMK 

To the boy who texted me “wya” at 3am and then never answered: Thanks for prompting me to impulsively shave my entire body.

To the bouncer at Smokes: Does the blowjob I gave you last night not count as a second form of identification?

To the people having sex under the button: You know that you've already taken your first exams right?

To the guy I smashed last week: It was really endearing when you shouted “I’m dying, i’m dying, fuck off, please leave” in your sleep.

To my ultra-aggressive hook up: The radiator and fridge in my room are now broken. The bed is split in two. There is love juice on the ceilings, floors, door knobs, and my loved ones.

To my GSWS Professor: I wanted so badly for you to prove to me that gender studies classes are real, but the most I've learned this semester is that you have an alcoholic neighbor and that you think 12 Years a Slave is called "10-20 Years a Slave."

To my Srat Sissies: you are everywhere to me QUOTH MICHELLE BRANCH lol get it cause there's 200 of us and we have only surface level relationships???

To my mom: Sorry I'm better at hand jobs than getting jobs.

To ZBT + SDT: Thanks for having a relationship workshop at Hillel and writing this joke for me. L'chayim. 

To Allegro's: 24-hour access doesn't make you more popular. Just ask Alpha Phi. 

To the guy who still sends me spaces as a booty call: Happy two-year anniversary. I wanna                you so bad. 

To Banker's Club: Your product tastes like the alcohol-tinged smegma that clings to the tip of Satan's unwashed cock.

To my roommate: If you're going to get eaten out while you think I'm sleeping, get a better catchphrase than "OH GOD."

To the Theta freshman who drunkenly wandered the bathroom at Recess shouting at everyone "what sorority are YOU in?": Do less.

To the guy who asked if I was making up that my friend had alcohol poisoning just so I could politely leave without hooking up with you: I was. 

To the boy with a thing for my feet: It doesn't matter if it's "never happened before," you obviously have a thing for feet. Embrace it. But please stop licking my feet. 

To the thirsty MBA who introduced himself as "being from too many places to name:" Well, one place you're not going is into my pants. 

To the pre-frosh overheard celebrating his "first trip to Fresh Grocer" during QD: You're adorable. Now get out.

To the TEP sophomore that looks like Matt Damon's ugly brother: It's not your fault.

To that couple that's always making out in Huntsman: Get a room. Just not a GSR, they're in high demand.

To the graduate who drunkenly hit on me during fling: Asking you where the bathroom was wasn’t an invitation to follow; I was trying to spare your feelings not suck dick on a toilet.

To the guy who cheated off of me on the Econ 002 midterm: I'm sorry I let us down.

To the kid in the Hawaiian shirt humping that tree: I wish I flang as hard as you.

To the ZTA girl who sucked off a Theos pledge at It's A Shit Hole: The fact that you puked on his dick is a metaphor for your life.


To everyone I've ever matched with on Tinder: You're the reason I wear sunglasses to class.

To the girl who dry humped me to the point of an orgasm: I feel violated.

To the girl who told me that i needed to treat her like a princess as she slapped me in the face multiple times during sex: Respect is a two way street.

To the Wig senior who wore only his thesis onstage: I can’t wait to turn the last page.

To Wishbone: Don't tell my boyfriend, but you're really the only bone I wish for.

To the guy who booty called me with a bird fact at 2am: Weird, but it worked.

To the Owls boys who fuck hookers: The phrase in English is 'fuck bitches get money' not 'get money to fuck bitches.' 

To the SDT girl dating a Temple student: You're aware that studying business at Temple is different than Wharton, right? 

To the Tridelt in my HSOC recitation: We all know you're a snap bid.

To the SigChi guy who asked me to sit on his face: Why was the next thing that came out of your mouth, "Can I make you dinner?"

To my roommate who never takes out the trash: But you're literally the trashiest person I know.

To my roommate who always sings "Trap Queen": You're from Connecticut. The only pies you're cooking are pecan.

To the boy who peed in the Phi Psi shower during a rush event: Stay golden.

To Owls' thinly veiled drug addictions: Every day we stray further from God’s light. 

To Phi Delt: Your chapter house smells asparagus pee and semen

To Ibiza: You may have an app called FOMO, but I don't have FOMO for any of your parties.


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