Let me be the one to say what we’re all thinking: fuck the football team for starting the season so well. When I applied to this esteemed institution, I was assured that I would be surrounded by hordes of nerds who only ever walked on a football field when deploying their telescopes on a particularly starry night; but now, because some ball was tossed into a goal, I must converse about some great catch by a wide receptacle.
What happened to the good old days when we could all just make chemistry jokes and Iliad references? Yesterday, my two friends had a whole conversation about Travis Kelce's blocking abilities downfield; what does any of that even fucking mean? This school is being overrun by jocks, and I’m being left behind, desperately trying to understand the difference between a touchoff and a kickdown.
This is the Ivy League; we’re supposed to scorn the athletically-inclined who we tacitly acknowledge will be working for us in ten years. If I had wanted to have fun during my college experience, I would have gone to a state school with attractive people and sunlight. But no, I chose Columbia explicitly because of its pervasive stress culture and alarmingly high suicide rate. I came to college to titillate my mind and reinforce my leftist viewpoints by engaging in meaningful discourse with those on the left and those on the further left. Now, the conservatives have the upper-hand, just because they understand what a forward pass is.
I am so disturbed by these recent developments within our school environment that I may transfer to a college where the football team still sucks, like Cornell.
In Other News
"Just what I need to deliver an understated, disinterested broadcast."
"I’ve been donning the turban and scepter every Halloween since I was 6 years old, after all, and it’s never brought anything but delight to every one of my friends in Greenwich, Connecticut."
"I did feel like the original ending of instituting a Demilitarized Zone between the Koreas was a total cop out.”
"My audition is coming up, and the fact that you won’t let me run my lines by you while you’re watching TV is a textbook infringement on my right to free speech."
"Jesus, what a tease," exclaimed a still-parched local man.
Kushner can expect a deepening voice, hair growth under his armpits and around his groin, and new feelings of sexual arousal, according to Ben Carson, who was not questioned on the topic but felt compelled to share his knowledge.
“How will I find other casual sports fans who enjoy smoking a bowl or two?”
"That's a really gracious offer, and I do appreciate it -- but for the time being, I will have to pass."
"I've been good this week, and I should treat myself," said Freddy Simone, 25, after seven days spent doing the bare minimum at his job.
Mr. Ducovich was unfazed by the water; he removed his “Grill Master” t-shirt, and eagerly waded to the pool’s deep end. “Kids, don’t listen to your mother, it’s actually really refreshing,” he said.