v.1 (Yiddish) to complain
Who says Chapel Hill is landlocked? I almost canoed to work on Sunday.
It’s nice to know I’m not alone in the struggle with humidity. I saw a squirrel with a bad case of frizzy fur this morning. Keep your head up, little buddy.
Summer kvetches are a little like the UNC baseball team in the College World Series. They both continue to disappoint time after time after time.
Nothing like an entire gym submerged in rainwater to make it abundantly clear the universe really doesn’t want you working out.
Dear Noah, I see your point — I will arrive shortly with a mate for myself.
Time After Time: The one Franklin Street store in which half a foot of water damage produces no visible impact.
The summer nights are easy, breezy and beautiful, but the day melts your CoverGirl off.
Dorm floods in the past year? Granville: 2, South Campus: 0. ‘Nuff said.
To the guy whose grandfather dipped his binky in whiskey: cool bedtime story, tell it again tonight through the walls of our apartments.
Does anyone actually sincerely enjoy fireworks? I don’t get it, they’re like make-believe bombs but somehow patriotic? All you’re doing is blowing ish up in color.
This is the last thing I ever expected to find myself saying, but WENDY’S COME BACK! The Carrboro one has good service like Sig Ep has clean bathrooms.
Summer hurricane to Chapel Hill: do you like your rain sideways, shaken or your whole town stirred?
Alert Carolina: Keeping you informed, just in case you were not yet aware of the three inches of water invading your home.
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