To the girl on the quad listening to Rebecca Black with headphones in: Play it loud, play it proud. It’s FRIDAY!
To the girls below me: You’re just upset that your guy doesn’t last this long. Love, Girl with squeaky bed.
To the guy who referred to my boobs as “boobs of mass distraction,” don’t worry, I’m not afraid to use them against you.
To the girl who was absolutely convinced “Mr. Brightside” was written about her life: Most relationships do, in fact, start out with a kiss.
To the hipster who burned his tongue on his coffee: That’s what you get for drinking it before it was cool.
To the people sitting behind me: Why yes, I am on Pottermore during class. You better stop judging me before I learn this next spell…
To the guy who approached me in the quad to ask if I’d be interested in nude modeling for his “independent project”: Next time at least lie and say you’re an art major.
To the guy in my ECON class who whipped out the University rule that professors can’t give tests five days before LDOC: I love you, and you are inspiration to all.
I’ve gathered two things from this school: First, there are a lot of homophobes. Second, there are even more gays. The second just kinda follows the first. Enjoy yourself.
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New University policy: If we can go one week without a scandal or resignation, everyone gets free Bojangles!
Just used the battery from my electric toothbrush to replace the battery in my vibrator. I really need to get laid.
Thanks to the 40:60 ratio, I had to go to the dark side, Duke, to get some action. What did karma give me in return? A UTI.
This whole “portal to Dook” thing sounds a lot like Chat Roulette.
To my upstairs neighbor, there are better ways to clean vomit off your stairs than by pouring a water bottle on them. Sincerely, your downstairs neighbor with vomit-water on his head.
That awkward moment when you’re a senior and you still confuse the condoms in campus health for free candy.
Graduation is one of those things I thought would never happen, like my grandma getting a Facebook or Clay Aiken being famous again.
To the freshman who got Valentine’s Day reservations at TOPO and pronounced it TOEPOE — brb crying.
My card just got declined at [B]Ski’s. My struggle is the realest.
I’m just in class so I won’t get fined.
I’m always late to trends. That’s why I’m still doing the Dougie, thinking about Harambe and looking for the Tuesday DTH.
Severely underwhelmed at UNC-CH and system official responses to HB2. Never thought I would see a day I would rather be a Blue Devil. #WeAreNotThis
It’s pronounced “yee-roh.” Love, your favorite Bottom-of-Lenoir cashier.
When Michael Jordan came out for the big announcement, I thought it was going to be for “Space Jam 2.”
At least the SBP race is about to be over.
I have been in a marine science class for two midterms but still haven’t learned shit about whales. I can tell you all about hydrogen bonds, but I don’t know what sound a whale makes when it is happy.
This is a kvetch about how there wasn't a kvetching board in 2018.
When it’s 95 in October it’s not “just weather” you jackasses.
Damn, I wish I was Silent Sam and not a woman so UNC would actually care about protecting me.
We were almost a football school.
If I know the wifi password at a bar does that make me an alcoholic?
I got a bootycall the other night and turned it down because I hadn’t finished my combo basket at Linda’s yet. Never been more proud.