The Daily Tar Heel
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The Daily Tar Heel

kvetch:
v.1 (Yiddish) to complain

So … we’re a football school now?

Umbrellas: 6. My face: 0.

To Voldemort: Please call off your dementors. I’m sick of all this fog and gloom.

To the guy demanding Roy’s resignation as basketball coach: Go home. You’re drunk.

Is the rat maze in the upper level of Student Stores a sadistic scientific experiment on college students or is it just for laughs?

We Tar Heels have many talents, skills and abilities. Clapping in sync with the band at sporting events is not one of them.

Thanks to the New Year’s resolutioners, I now bring my orgo book to read while I wait for a machine. FML.

My favorite part about Connect Carolina is when you have to log out before you can log in. Cool feature!

To the girl on her phone in Graham Memorial: You turned my nap time into a nightmare.

To the guy passed out under a tree by Kenan on Saturday: Hope DPS treated you well — just trying to help a fella out.

To the ladies of UNC: Please withhold sexual favors from the team until they get their act together.

When an iPhone vibrates on a table in Davis and everyone checks to see if it’s theirs.

Hey iPhone weather app: Still waiting for that 64 degrees today! Sincerely, anyone in shorts and soggy running shoes.

To the girl who slept through our entire physiology lecture during the first week of classes: Looks like your cells could use some ATP.

The only upside of having to spend all day in Phillips is that there is no shortage of reading material when you have to use the restroom.

To the guy that sent me his number over a Facebook message: Can we skip the poking and just have sex?

To the girls singing obnoxiously in the UL study room: The walls here are as thin as your chances of making it on American Idol.

To the girl on South Road rocking the extra jumbo infinity “scarf”: Let’s be honest, I think we both know that’s a blanket.

How am I supposed to know where to piss now that the cows are gone?

Girls with rain boots on / Afraid to walk through puddles / You’re ridiculous.

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Rainy days: When short people with umbrellas exact their revenge on tall people with backpacks.

To my fellow seniors: Can everyone please keep saying “last”? Last, last, last.

Send your one-to-two sentence entries to opinion@dailytarheel.com, subject line ‘kvetch.’