A round of ski team golf ended in a vomitous hazard this Friday night. The revelers ended in Kirkland, where one reveler puked all over five people sitting on a sofa. Casualties included the inside of one Prada purse, a cashmere sweater, and the partygoer’s dignity. Even grosser: the lads that live in the room didn’t clean up the upchuck until three days later.
A sophomore girl made her small screen debut during a certain club’s initiation. We hear the IMDB entry is Deep Throat: Final Club.
An executive member of Harvard Right to Life thinks that masturbation is a sin: he and his girlfriend are also participants in a chastity group on campus. He must do a lot of laundry.
Their sallow complexions imply that Advocate kids rarely see the sun, which may explain why they decided to bring the outdoors inside at their woodland-themed party last weekend. One attendee came dressed as a sasquatch. Profound.
Monday night, one guy and three hot blondes sat down at a booth in Border Café and started ordering margaritas. The lucky guy? None other than Rothenberg Professor of the Humanities Homi K. Bhabha.
One House mistress is so cool that after entering a room filled with ganja smoke she said: “I don’t judge, I’m just here for a drink.”
One junior girl brought new meaning to the proverb “make the system work for you.” Late one night she sent a text message to Porcellian Club initiates, demanding that they deliver 10 cases of Redbull and Marlboros to her apartment. The wise lady continued to place orders throughout the night, until the Porcs-to-be finally caught on—$600 and 7-11’s entire stock of Redbull later.
The Spee’s website is really awesome!
Overheard in the Lamont Cafe: “I think social Darwinist arguments are pretty powerful.”
Overheard in the Yard: “It was really bad timing because I just came off the pill.”
