The Daily Tar Heel
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The Daily Tar Heel

kvetch:
v.1 (Yiddish) to complain

Socialists, I would love to read your newspaper, but isn’t making me pay for it a little bourgeois?

To the guy I hooked up with last week that drives the black Hummer, I wish you were as big as your car.

Dear body hair police: If I want to braid my armpit hair, I will.

Go gay! Join the 10 percent of campus that actually knows how to have a good time!

I’m missing sleep like our football team is missing players.

To the girl in my recitation whose name is Berkeley but goes by her middle name Madison, Please say your last name isn’t Amherst.

Dear Chi Phi pledge: we are glad your brothers enjoy “reverse cowgirl and morning BJs” and think “women aren’t supposed to drive.” P.S. Do you want your pledge notebook back?

To all varsity athletes who don’t do their homework, At least make sure it looks like your handwriting.

To the girl putting on mascara while walking on the treadmill: I hope you trip.

To all the girls on the tenth floor of HOJO who learned how to pee standing: Congratulations. To everyone else: Please flush the urinals.

For the love of god N bus, TURN ON YOUR AC. You are a bus, not a sauna, please act like one.

To the residents on the 1st floor: Don’t close your blinds, at least I can watch something when there’s nothing to watch on TV.

Dear ladies of UNC, If chivalry is dead, it’s because you killed it by inventing the “friends zone.” Love, the Men of UNC.

Confession to suitemate: I stole your kvetch, rewrote it, and mine got in.

To the guy I danced with at Players last weekend: I guess the saying is true. Beauty is only a light-switch away.

On behalf of T.J. Yates, to everyone: STFU

To the 8th floor Mo-Town RA, Could you please become the new “basketball girl”?

What I’ve learned in stats: When there is a Taylor Lautner look-a-like in my class, I have a 2 percent chance of paying attention.

Dear Facebook, Thank you for giving colleges across the nation the most productive afternoon in years. You should consider going out more often.

Everyone, I met the enigmatic Arboretum Whistler. His name is Greg and he will tell you his secret if you ask.

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DTH, we’ve been over this. Quit putting the crossword in the crease of the paper.

To all of the bikers weaving in and out of traffic, You won’t be doing the environment any good when I run you over with my car.

Send your one-to-two sentence entries to editdesk@unc.edu, subject line ‘kvetch.’