v.1 (Yiddish) to complain
Dear Intro to Country Music: Way too intense.
To the dude with the Bob Barr bumper sticker, listening to ‘Single Ladies’ while
looking for local shooting ranges: You’re creepy.
To my across-the-hall
neighbor: It was funny to find you randomly asleep on my couch. It wasn’t so funny when I found the pee later.
Dear girl on Chatroulette: I had fun playing drinking games with you. Give me your number.
You can call it a “take-home” exam all you want, but you still assigned a 6 to 8 page paper and gave us two days to finish it… in the middle of midterms. Thanks.
To the girl waving around her Social Security card during Stats class: I missed a few numbers. Want to just pass it back next time? Or perhaps just read it aloud?
To the man in the Teeter with the combover: While washing your hair might make more of it fall out, that would
nevertheless reduce the gross factor by about 40 percent.
Dear Jasmin Jones: I think Roy is going to have a talk with you on your political
conspiracy with the basketball team in stopping the Franklin fires.
Dear sketchy man on my floor’s lounge: No, you may not sleep there. Your mustache makes you look like pedophile.
WTF DTH, where is “This day in history?!” I need to know why today is important!
To the girl blabbing about her ski trip to Vermont: Did you buy that tan there, too? Because you certainly didn’t have it before you left.
Dear UNC frat boys: I dare you not to wear khakis.
To the girl who played on my opponent’s indoor soccer team: Was that just physical soccer or were we grinding?
To the people who regularly take the elevator in my three-story dorm: There’s no way you passed LFIT.
Dear Lenoir: I don’t care how small you make the cups, I will still find a way to achieve obesity through carbonated beverages.
Dear tap water in Craige: I’m not a racist, but I hate you for being white.
The College Republicans elected five executive board members, and the only woman was the secretary?
To my roommate who is collecting all her gray hairs in a wig: You need a new pastime.
Hey Lenoir: I know we’ve only known each other a year now, but I thought you would at least tell me when you make a major life decision like going down a cup size.
Dear NCAA bracket: You may be the higher seed, but I pick the NIT.
Send your one-to-two sentence entries to firstname.lastname@example.org, subject line ‘kvetch.’
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