It’s only early October and the first wave of disease has already descended on campus. Gossip Guy has ignored the advice of his physician, overdosing on a self-prescribed regimen of vitamin C, Echinacea and speed, to bring you an outbreak of lies, hacking rumors and phlegmatic innuendos.
Apparently, the thrice-weekly 4 a.m. trips Vito Giuliani Mussolini ’04 has been making to Foxwoods have finally paid dividends—Mussolini cleaned house at a poker tournament in Leverett over the weekend. But he found himself in the hole again later on that same evening after losing a beer chugging contest to Myst, a dancer at a Chinatown strip club, and then losing a double-or-nothing arm-wrestling contest with Trinity, Myst’s on-stage companion. The night took another turn for the worse when a drunken Mussolini inadvertently tipped the bathroom attendant with his father’s gold card. In his defense, Mussolini says, “Well, I did piss in the candy bowl.”
Trinidad native Grace K. Sinclair ’07 was mightily impressed by the cultural sensitivity shown by the Fly Club’s annual Calypso garden party last week. As a social event, Sinclair gave the party average marks, but as a celebration of West Indian culture, she had only praise: “All those pink seersucker shorts and bony white legs made me feel like I was in a real British colony—it was a really nice touch!”
Hollis C. Stephanopoulos ’04 learned that style alone does not a class marshal make, having failed to break through to the second round of voting. “At least I know who my real friends are now,” said Stephanopoulos, clutching her newest Prada handbag and matching purse with affection.
Recruiting season has already begun to take its toll on Charles G. Jefferson ’04. After revising his resume for the 72nd time for clarity and ease of reading, Jefferson has been able to distill the merits of his employment into 13 simple words: “I have a gun—just hire me, bitch, and everything will be OK.”
To the surprise of none but the disgust of many, Harvard’s most overly affectionate couple, Svetlana L. Humpmova ’04 and Jamie Thompson ’04 have announced...drum roll please...they’re getting married. The happy couple, which can often be found giving each other daily tonsillitis inspections on the steps of Widener or whispering such sweet nothings as “our love is strong enough to survive nuclear holocaust,” are reportedly excited to start making “many many babies” so that the world “knows more love like our own.” In related news, Humpmova and Thompson’s roommates have recently become active in several population control movements, in addition to keeping upwards of 30,000 condoms and diaphragms on hand, “just in case.”
Proving that come senior year, sophomore tutorial is water under the bridge, Shlomo F. Yenklebaum ’04 and Grays “Dirty” Sanchez ’04 treated their former tutorial leader to a beer-and-bong bonanza after chancing upon him on a recent walk back to the quad. While the conversation never turned to the F+ Sanchez received on his tutorial paper, “John Locke: Euro Cock,” Dirty couldn’t resist the temptation to do a little schooling of his own, beating his tutorial leader with a 700 page hardcover volume of Democracy in America as he lay passed out on their common room futon, marking the first time that Dirty had ever cracked the cover of a tutorial book.
