kvetch ’kvech, ’kfech:
v.1 (Yiddish) to complain
To the girl in Davis with Facebook up on her computer, a TV show on her iPad, and playing a game on her iPhone … all simultaneously: Can you help me study for my test?
To my corporate finance professor who said, “This may look like a big number to you, but it doesn’t to me:” we already knew you’re the one percent. No need to remind us.
To the guy who played “Let It Snow” on the sax on South Campus Sunday night: I see what you did there.
To the girl tanning in the arboretum: Thank you for the show. I haven’t gone whale watching in a long time.
Thought I could start avoiding eye contact a little closer, but no, clipboard girl managed to wave and ask me to sign for her cause from 50 feet away.
To the girl wearing a frocket tee fighting with her fratdaddy about the difference between khakis and chinos in the Union: Khaki is a color, Chino is a pant. Now that that’s settled, can you make fun of some GDIs or something?
It’s a sad year to be a senior and be carded more at the library than at the bar.
Dear person who wrote the kvetch about Andre 300 last week: It’s Andre 3000, idiot.
How did we skip the conversation about the ridiculousness of wearing yoga pants and jump right to wearing yoga pants with equestrian boots? Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah!
Hey Lenoir, way to try to be ironic by serving a large ham sandwich party sub the day after the SBP runoff. You’ve got my vote.
To the girls camping out at Morrison for a super-suite a week in advance: This is not Duke.
To the frat boy chewing tobacco in Hamilton: I’ve seen 7-year-olds spit manlier than that.
Because of physics, I have given up hope for Lent.
To the hipster carrying around the boombox with your iPhone connected to it: You’re not doing it right.
To the girl playing Farmville in Davis Library: You must be lost. I’d be happy to direct you to Raleigh.
To the guy walking SO slowly in front of me: If you have to wear a shirt that says “swag” on it, you probably don’t have any.
Emailing the work listserv to say you can’t work your Saturday night shift because you have a “sorrirty” thing isn’t going to get you anyone’s sympathy.
Cheer up neighbors: Housing may have taken your puppy, but they’ll never find your weed!
To the people who sit by themselves at a tables for 4 in Lenoir: Just because you have no friends doesn’t mean you can ruin my time with mine.
Send your one-to-two sentence entries to
firstname.lastname@example.org, subject line ‘kvetch.’
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