When I was asked to write this column, I was basically told to slap down some canned nostalgia about sunrises on the steps of Brookings or sex in notable places. Well, I saw my sunrise in the Quad, but only because I was too much of a wimp to kiss the girl, and I prolonged the date way too long.
My immune system and I are no longer on speaking terms. Let me explain:
Exhibit A:
Last winter break I went to Europe with some friends and ate some pasta. I ate the same pasta at the same pasta restaurant as everyone else. But while the rest of the group spent the night drinking Belgian beer (recipe: one part taste, three parts drunk), I got food poisoning.
I was walking through the hall when I noticed how beautiful her ass truly was.
It stuck to her. I don’t know. Start elaborating. Add some description. Ok so her ass was great and I could tell that because I have perfect vision. For perfect asses. That’s too obvious.
Last week, our faucet finally broke enough that our landlord decided to send the maintenance guy out to look at it. I’ve always heard from the girls in our building that our maintenance guy is very chatty, but had never heard this for myself.
But this time I wanted to cook some eggs while he was working on the sink.
Can I make airplane jokes? It’s been – what – seven, eight months? Is that cool?
The thing I hate most about flying is that most airlines – especially recently – are so uptight. It’s like kindergarten all over again. They tell you where to sit, and when you can look out the window.
100 % Classical Aquila
by Nicole Leist
William Shakespeare was a funny guy. As much as the stereotypical image of Shakespeare-as-Hamlet, fiddling with Yorrik’s head, or people imitating “ye olde English,” the fact remains that Shakespeare was a very funny-and sometimes smutty-writer.
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