This article was originally published as part of the joke issue on 12.5.2013McDonald'sThe Set-Up:
The 24–inch Westinghouse TV is only visible from about four seats (strategically nailed into the floor), and the subtitles are only visible from about two.
Fandoms—groups of people who live and breathe their favorite books, movies and television shows—have a reputation for intensity. Each of these spooky sci–fi shows has a formidable fandom, but which ones are craziest?
Disclaimer: the content you are about to read is not quite a recap, but rather an emotional rant about season nine so far and all the disappointment and frustration it brings.
This week’s episode of “How I Met Your Mother” was a step up from last week’s, but that’s not saying very much.
With everything awash in red and pink during this most hallowed/dreaded of Valentine’s weeks, my thoughts turn to soulmates of the fictional variety, those people you just know you’re meant to be with… if only they were, you know, real.
In an effort to make flying a little more pleasant this spring break, I decide to pack light. I threw a few sweaters, some jeans and a couple pairs of sneakers in a bag and headed to good ol’ PHL International.
Last week I attended my first preceptorial ever. It’s not that I hadn’t wanted to go to one before this semester, but rather I was systematically shut out of every cheese-tasting, Barnes Foundation-going, ceramics-learning preceptorial imaginable for the past six semesters.
As humans, we are all driven by fear: fear of loss, fear of failure, fear of insignificance. But we college students (or, at least, we Penn students) are driven by another type of fear: the fear of missing out.
Thanks to three consecutive midterms, I ended up spending Fall Break in Philly. I don’t even know if it could be called a break (how Penn thinks that canceling Monday’s classes constitutes a vacation is beyond me), but it did allow for some quality time with my equally midterm-challenged roommates.
Twas the day before Fling, and up to campus’s edge,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a pledge.
The booze had been smuggled into the Quad with care,
In hopes the RAs wouldn’t know it was there.
The students in class wished they were in their beds,
With visions of fried Oreos dancing in their heads.
Tonight’s festivities would include a downtown jaunt,
Mashups and dancing at our fave nighttime haunts.
Papers and exams seemed so very far away,
Kegs and eggs is how kids would choose to start their day.
Friday would bring inflatables and the yummiest of food,
A cappella performances would help complement the mood.
Fling wouldn’t be complete without a funnel cake or two,
Not to mention a trip to the Zete petting zoo.
The DP’s Quad booth promised photos and more,
Oh, there’s such well-deserved fun in store!
The Green would be filled with lots of earthly delights,
(Study the back of our insert so you don’t miss the sights.)
When nighttime cometh, Akon would take the Fling stage,
With the Guster boys in tow (check out our first insert page).
But be wary, dear reader, of your Flungover state,
Make good choices, drink water, be smart and be safe.
And when Sunday comes, there is one thing you must do:
Submit lots of Shoutouts, we want to hear from you!
Stage Five Flinger,
You know that Ego of the Week question, “There are two types of people at Penn …”? Well, after a little social experiment I took part in these past couple of weeks, I would divide Penn into BlackBerry users and everyone else.
It’s no surprise that smartphones took over campus long ago, but I didn’t realize the ubiquity of the BlackBerry in particular until I suddenly found myself without.
I went to my first Penn party the January of my senior of high school. Fresh off the high of my early admittance, I visited a friend from home who was a freshman living in the Quad, and took in all of Penn’s earthly delights.
Ten years ago, Joan Shepp single-handedly redefined how Philadelphians think about style. A decade later, her Walnut Street boutique stands as a model for luxury retailers.
Shepp is often described in the same terms that are used to describe the coveted goods she sells: eccentric, brilliant and desperately chic.