The Daily Tar Heel

Serving the students and the University community since 1893

Tuesday June 6th

Kvetching board for September 2, 2011

v.1 (Yiddish) to complain

To the guy in the bathroom orgasming about “cake,” either go on a diet or get help for your drug addiction.

Don’t flatter yourself: I wasn’t whistling at you, I just have Tourette’s.

Dear outside world: Not all Carolina a cappella groups kick out members with homosexual urges. Take the Clef Hangers, for instance.
No matter what people say about the DTH, it makes an excellent umbrella.

Old Lenoir: lines are too long, get sandwich instead. New Lenoir: can’t find anything, get sandwich instead.

The first day of CTOPS should have a session called “Listservs: Don’t reply to them or we will all hate you”.

Do you ever see people riding across campus on a Ripstick and think to yourself, “Dang, I wish I was that cool”? Yeah, me neither.

Matthew 21: 31-32: Jesus said to them, ‘The tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the Kingdom of God ahead of you, but the gay people will NOT be allowed to sing in your a cappella group.’

To my roommate: I borrowed your chastity ring … Good thing you don’t need it.

Hey Psalm 100: Jesus doesn’t want you in his a cappella group either.

To the freshman complaining about the difficulty and volume of her first-week course load: Leave. Leave now. There are probably still some spots open at State.

DTH, we get it. You want Letters to the Editor. No need to elaborate on the Hopi/Mayan prophecy of doom.

Dear boy who cat-called me: Yours are too. Sincerely, Amazing Tits.

Yes, I want to log out. YES I WANT TO LOG OUT!!

To the freshman girl who asked me if we had a “Kendall Mitchell” on our basketball team who was “pretty good”: Are you sure this is the right school for you?

I think I know who stole my phone: It was either Jack Daniels or Jim Beam.

Dear freshmen: We know that you’re all pre-med and planning to be doctors one day. But, please, your class is called ‘recitation’ not ‘resuscitation’.

I’ll be unemployed next year, who the #@!$ are you?

To the guy with the mullet in my Southern Studies class: there’s a place for people like you, it’s called “State.”

To the guy talking loudly about his “chill night with strippers” in Polk Place, I’d like to see what you call a crazy night.

Send your one-to-two sentence entries to, subject line ‘kvetch.’

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