IN OTHER NEWS
Econ-cardio atrophius: Nearly all of Columbia’s econ majors suffer from this devastating condition wherein the act of consistently subordinating the needs of society to personal wealth causes the heart to atrophy. Common side effects include altered mental status associated with monetary obsession, frequent use of the phrase “devil’s advocate,” and a visceral reaction to images of Senator Bernie Sanders.
Common symptoms are living vicariously through Instagram posts, touch deprivation, lucid dreaming about a life without your blue light glasses, and crying. If you find yourself experiencing these, please reach out to Columbia Health Services to make an appointment as soon as possible.
5. Bear Grylls
Pros: Very knowledgeable about surviving in uninhabitable environments, very applicable to NYC
Cons: Bold, but not beautiful
“At first I thought it was odd that she’d go to John Jay to eat, when the food’s much better on this side of Broadway,” said Margo’s roommate, Prudence Yao, BC‘22. “But when I saw her chomping on a Nature Valley wrapper in the middle of the night, it clicked. Margo is totally two raccoons in a trench coat ”
He attached the link to his Tik Tok account, “WAP with Beck Hall.” WAP standing for “Watch and Probe,” that is.
When the Columbia Federalist reached out to Williams for comment, he explained “Yeah, I know it’s the second day of classes, but I’ve already mapped out all of my courses for the next four years and I just love rubbing that in everyone’s face.” Williams is convinced that he won’t develop any new interests.
“We are a pretty social dorm,” Kelvin bragged bashfully, “Before I went into hibernation, we organised a floor outing to see the Battle of the Bands in Lerner Party Space— our usual spot— and even stayed there until past 10pm to see the main act.
Although Trump ignored RBG’s dying wish of being replaced after the election, she can rest easy knowing her replacement is not only from the “very disgraceful, liberal institution” where she went to law school, but he’s the president.
To whomever is reading this: I am a cold, soggy-ass, lonely fucking slice of chickpea pizza. I was “baked” on March 10th (originally frozen a year prior). I used to gleefully bask in the cozy warmth of the Ferris heating lamps, lying in a puddle of my own grease.