Dear Chapel Hill — This summer, instead of ripping up and then repaving the same perfectly good stretch of South Columbia, how about repairing the corner of Pittsboro Street at West Cameron Avenue? My shock absorbers will thank you.
The rain is done, out come the worms
The soil is soggy, but the sun it burns
They wriggle, stranded, upon the brick
Please don’t let me step on one
Please don’t let me step on – ick.
To whoever planned the senior star show on April 20: Bravo, you’re the real star.
You know you’re getting close when the number of weeks till graduation is lower than your GPA.
To the guy in my biology class who always reminds us to donate to the senior campaign: I’ll give you $20.15 to shut the hell up.
Whoever ordered too few senior tank tops severely underestimated how integral baby blue T-shirts have been to our Carolina experience.
The nice thing about having an 8 a.m. on your last LDOC is that you’re not awake enough to cry.
For first-years, the quad being free of construction is like when that nerdy guy takes off his glasses and everyone realizes he’s a hunk.
Senior bar golf? Carrboro sees that and raises you senior bar croquet.
Seniors: If you didn’t get to go up the Bell Tower, my supersuite in Morrison is always open!
Will there ever be a day when one can remark upon a double rainbow without someone else adding “all the way across the sky”?
Ten bucks says the Minotaur was behind that gas leak in Phillips.
Dear professors: Don’t take it personally if I fail your exams. I‘m just not very good at college.
With all the stress we’re all feeling, UNC should really invest in a building open 24 hours dedicated to those puppies. It’d be a better use of money than whatever UNC’s PR machine is doing.
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