Send in your kvetches
Send your one-to-two sentence entries to dthedit@gmail.com, subject line ‘kvetch.’
kvetch:
v.1 (Yiddish) to complain
Group projects are only fun when in the bedroom.
To the individual who keeps defriending then friending me on Facebook: My heart can only take this much.
To the girl texting and blocking traffic in Top of Lenoir at noon: STFU or GTFO.
To the guys sitting in the Union having an intense conversation about Pokémon: Really!? You are in college. Pikachu won’t save you from finals.
To the guy listening to Miley Cyrus in the UL: I understand that it’s a party in the USA, but please stop moving your hips like “yeah” (it’s a little distracting.)
To the people who genuinely thought that a 10 percent discount on $50 dollar pants was $30, then $40 dollars: Your future doesn’t look too bright.
To my boyfriend, who got out of bed in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom: Next time check you are in the right room before climbing back into bed with some unsuspecting guy.
To the guy who was walking around Davis with male genitalia drawn in marker on his forehead: Thanks for the best Monday night in the library ever.
Overheard in the Union: “You reek of liquor!” “Yeah … But all I could find was Triple Sec and root beer.”
To the girl reading porn in my history class: You might want to make your font size a little bit smaller.
I am mad at the fact that we are going to be the generation known for being obsessed with glittery sparkly vampires.
To all the people who looked up HotRussianBrides.com after last week’s Kvetch: You are not alone.
Why are there more squirrels on this campus than there are attractive males?
Thanks, DTH Web site, for being incredibly slow. I forgot my kvetch.
Would a pedestrian ferry over South River be cheaper?
Yes, it’s raining outside. Yes, I have an umbrella. No, I am not Rihanna. You cannot stand under my umbrella. Ella.
Dear North Carolina weather: Why must you be so much like a 13-year-old boy in tight jeans: weird, awkward and temperamental?
Dear crazy, random drunk girl I found in my room last Friday night: Stay the hell out of my dorm!
Darn you, UL. Why must you tempt me with books such as “Snoop Dogg: Tha Doggfather” when you KNOW I’m trying to study for finals?!?
