By Gary Bernard
Springtime in New York. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and I’m looking for love. I just got out of a nasty croc-on-croc relationship, and for a while I didn’t know if I could love again. But when I saw the way your neon orange, foot-shaped shoes hit the pavement as you walked the last 2k of the color run, I knew you were the only one for me.
I feel like I already know you. You obviously own a Fitbit, and you probably burn through those 10,000 steps by brunch. You’re not a vegan, but you always ask for rice milk in your macchiatos. And sure, you didn’t vote for Jill Stein, but you thought she had some great ideas.
Let me bury my secrets deep inside that expensive leather man-bag you keep strapped to your lanky midwestern frame. I want to replace those orange scented candles that Housing confiscated from your dorm last February, and blast the folk rock station on Spotify while I slide between your burlap sheets. I swear it’s not a fetish—just promise me you’ll keep the toe shoes on. Whisper in my ear about the extra traction they give you for Ultimate while you upload every single picture from your backpacking trip to Pinterest. I would do anything for you. I’ll even switch from Cliff to Luna if that’s what it takes.
Was that you I saw the other day selling Herbalife? Wow. I never knew I could love so much.
“It’s just so unhealthy,” said Jablonsky, whose grandfather trekked across Europe with just two potatoes in his battered rucksack to catch a passage to America. “Too much saturated fat. And, oh God, the salt.”
"In an increasingly interconnected world, we at the Office of Global Programs are hoping that a trip up to Union Theological Seminary or down into Lehman can be reframed as its own rich adventure!"
"I thought it was frankly irresponsible that the tour guide failed to mention even one location in which my son could find himself bucking the wild white pony at 3:15pm on a Wednesday afternoon."
"His previous experience transporting souls across the river Styx to the world of the dead was eye-opening; he is just impeccably qualified to take the reins of our institution’s cherished nursing home.”
"The problem at hand is obviously upbringing, as Manny seems to be totally unaware of the established rules governing my society."
"The freshman is now able to efficiently balance his time between understanding the ethics of Hellenistic culture, and informing all of his recent sexual partners that they should get tested."
"I usually make a point of not opening emails from students. Any response within a month or so just makes them feel entitled, and besides, direct student-faculty conduct is a lawsuit waiting to happen."
I could’ve sworn I heard my RA saying something about stopping by Duane Reade to ‘pick up a few things.’ Who knows what that could mean?”
"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."
"For now, Gilmore can only wonder and wait, alert for that fateful moment when, four years hence, his sex life will coincidentally blossom following a job offer at Facebook."