and entering


Speculation: Greta Thunberg Probably Walks to the Quad

Lately there’s been a lot of buzz about Swedish teenager Greta Thunberg, whose bold activism has pushed the world to take action on climate change. Thousands have listened to her powerful speech from the UN summit last Monday, and even more were touched by her decision to sail across the Atlantic to reduce carbon emissions.

I’m Sorry, but Making a Silly Face in your Photo is Beneath a Gentleman Like Me

Dear Photographer,

You’re probably feeling quite smug right now, having duped nearly all the attendees of my second-cousin’s wedding into making utter fools of themselves. Aunt Lisa, Grandpa Hank, and even Brenda from College fell prey to your cunning trap.

None of them even saw it coming, the poor dolts. The setup was innocent enough: “Say Cheese” you said to placate them. “One more!” you shouted, luring them to the slaughter like so many unsuspecting ewes. Then, when they least expected it, the trap was sprung with four simple words:

I’m an Ally and That’s Why I’m Having My Bachelorette Party Loudly at This Gay Bar

by Tanya

LGBTQ activism has always been an issue close to my heart. Though I am heterosexual, I am a proud and outspoken ally. And that is why me and my twelve loudest friends have chosen to have my bachelorette party at this crowded gay bar during pride weekend.

I’ve Known My Summer Plans Since October, Bitch

by the Worst Person You’ve Ever Met

Confessions of a Plain Girl

By A Plain Girl 

I, Plain Girl™, have entered into a relationship with the new love of my life and senior problem drinker, Doyle Flannigan. I think what attracted him to me was the fact that I'm not plastic and have a pulse, though I don’t mean to be presumptuous. 

Why Prison is the Ultimate Final Club

by Victoria “Knife” van der William Tudor III

Yes, it is I, Victoria van der William Tudor III, the ultimate final woman, here to grace this campus with my humble worldview. After serving an 8-month long sentence at San Quentin Penitentiary (the reason is not important), I have determined that it is prison, and not The Bee, that is the ultimate final club.

Hark, Neophyte! The Fates Sing Fortune and the Lust of Women!

Matt Damon

by The Oracle of Delphic

Sing, Fates! Sing what will become of those most esteemed members of the Delphic! 

The gods on Olympus have blessed our club with the all the will of Zeus himself, that most high and hallowed king before which even the board of the Harvard Financial Analysts Club must kneel. Fortune beyond compare, even to all the gold in the wondrous halls of Crete, is theirs for the taking for those sophomores who do not take issue with using an atmosphere of exclusivity to attract unsuspecting women.  

I Talked to the Moldy Chobani in My MicroFridge for 30 Days: My Philosophical Journey

I love my body. I love health. Having relationships, communication, is a healthy thing. When I got back to my room mid-January, though, my floor was deserted and I might as well have been the only person on Earth. But when I popped open the unplugged MicroFridge to find an unopened Chobani I myself had cruelly deserted, then decided to peel back the crusty-curded aluminum and snag a whiff, I knew I had struck an opportunity.

I’m the Little Birdy Your Mom’s Been Talking to And I’m Here to Fuck Up Your Shit

Tweet tweet. That’s right. It’s me, motherfucker. You know every time your mom has told you, “a little birdy told me” followed by some random messed up shit that you’ve done? That’s me, bitch. Big or small, life-threatening or otherwise, I will find out anything and everything that you have done wrong. In fact, my sole purpose in life is to keep your mom updated on all the reasons she should be disappointed in you. Room’s a mess? She knows. C on your midterm? She’s aware. One night stand with that boy Brad from the Alpha Chi Party? She’s on the phone with his mom right now.

Whoever is the Voice in the Elevator Can Absolutely Get It

CAMBRIDGE, MA -- Listen, I’ve ridden elevators hundreds of times, and never have I given it a second thought. I shuffle in, press the button for the thirteenth floor, stare at my shoes for 45 seconds, and go on my merry way.

But yesterday, in William James, everything changed when I noticed a smoky, disembodied voice coming from the corner -- an amorous timbre that set my heart aflame. It was an uneventful ride down from section until I got to the bottom of the shaft, the doors gave way, and I heard her croon the words every man longs to hear: “First floor. Main lobby.”