To my professor who claimed he brought us presents by saying he brought his presence, I see you are also a part-time dad.
I think I know how Jennifer Lawrence feels: The Google Street View car drove by right as I sneezed.
I look like I just did the ALS ice bucket challenge from walking to class.
Off campus: The magical place where candles aren’t illegal.
Really though, kudos to Davis Library for managing to fix the elevators and somehow make them creepier at the same time.
To the real Rameses: I know the only reason you face away from the student section the entire football game is to show off.
Intrusive ads, missing content, disorganized sections ... DTH, you gotta get your website together.
In all my years at UNC, and all the games I had attended before then, I’ve never heard the alma mater effed up so badly. Congratulations, class of 2018.
Knowing “Tar Heel” is two words should probably be a requirement for admission here.
To the mouth-breather sitting behind me: I don’t need any more warm, moist, air on the back of my neck this week, thank you.
To what I thought was fall weather: You are a grade-A royal tease. But come back ... I miss you.
Pretty sure we have more real athletes in Drama 116 than Liberty’s entire football team.
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To UNC pedestrians: When I’m on my bike behind you, and I say “coming up on your left,” you should move the OTHER way.
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