The Daily Tar Heel

Serving the students and the University community since 1893

Tuesday January 25th

Kvetching board for Nov. 22, 2011

v.1 (Yiddish) to complain

You know you live in the South when the loudest cheer of the basketball game occurs when the crowd wins 2 for $1 Bojangles’ Sausage Biscuits.

To the Occupy Chapel Hill people: Nice, attractive, straight guys are the real 1 percent on this campus. GTFO.

To the boys with an entire back seat full of beer: It doesn’t matter how many cases you have, no girl will ever take you seriously until you drive something a little more manly than a Honda Prius.

The only way John Henson could have any more swagger is if he started doing the Dikembe Mutombo finger wag after blocks.

To the UNC basketball team at the Breaking Dawn midnight premiere: My only question is: Team Edward or Jacob?

Motion to hold open kicker tryouts for the Duke game? I think so, Coach Withers.

That awkward moment when you’re the only one queening out to Tina Turner in a 300-person Rock History class.

To whoever was shaving in the men’s bathroom in Sitterson — evidently over the urinals? I don’t even…

To the scrub who wouldn’t let me play on his flag football team because I’m not “6’5” and jacked:” I turned down a preferred walk on spot as a strong safety at App to come here. Good call though, chief.

To the drunk gentleman from Granville who ran to mid-campus and brought me graham crackers at 3 a.m.: That was by far one of the best midnight snacks I’ve ever had. Thank you.

I hope the NBA lockout continues so I get to see Tyler Hansbrough at Topo more often.

Chapel Hill, where our fire trucks are Carolina blue and our buses are N.C. State red. Seriously, UNC?

How would you like your apple: with one bruise or two? #QuestionsFromLenoir

To the person who stole the biology department’s skull models: Next time make sure to grab a heart, because it’s obvious you don’t have one.

Writing papers is like having bad sex. The more I’m forced to do it, the better I get at faking the whole thing.

To the tool in my jazz class who tried selling his notes over the listserv: Did you really think our professor wasn’t going to turn that over to the honor code office?

To my inept physics professor who consistently fails to solve his own problems: Where did you buy your Ph.D? And can I get one too?

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

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