“What Have I Done”: Student Who Pregamed ClubFest Awakens to 573 Unread GroupMe Messages

MARY DONLON HALL—James Woodhouse ‘26, who took eight shots of strawberry lemonade-flavored Svedka prior to attending ClubFest, awoke Monday morning to a pounding headache and hundreds of unopened GroupMe messages and listserv emails from completely unfamiliar organizations.

“Oh god, what the fuck happened yesterday?” cried Woodhouse as he peeled laptop stickers off his clothes. “I’ve never even heard of half of these organizations. Why did I sign up for the Latin debate club? The fencing club? Am I currently in both the Cornell Democrats and Cornell Republicans? Fuck, there must be a hundred emails from consulting clubs alone—they must’ve thought I fit their vibe. So many invites on my Google Calendar for info sessions… I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Woodhouse reportedly took five shots before stumbling to Barton Hall for the first session of ClubFest, where he stoically listened glassy-eyed to the impassioned speeches of club representatives before dutifully consigning himself to receive email and text updates on anything and everything. The real damage, however, came when Woodhouse took three more shots prior to the second session. According to eyewitnesses, the inebriated freshman snatched every quartercard in arm’s reach and scanned QR codes with reckless abandon before hopping onstage to contribute jokes to a stand-up club’s performance—a star turn of which Woodhouse had no recollection.

“Did… did I actually do that?” stammered Woodhouse. “Yikes, I hope I didn’t say anything too offensive—the last time I grabbed an open mic while belligerently drunk, I apparently made some pretty disparaging comments about Slovenian people and the sport of croquet. Wait, let me check—yep, I’ve got messages from both the Slovenian Students’ Union and the croquet club. Fuck.”

At press time, Woodhouse had been made president of the stand-up club whose performance he invaded after receiving a positive reception for his monologue on Slovenian croquet players.

OP-ED: It’s Time to Deport A Cappella Groups to Ithaca College

Perhaps you have seen their strange advertisements. Perhaps one of them has approached you, pushing their product. God forbid, perhaps a “friend” has dragged you to one of their cult-like ceremonies, and charged you money for the privilege! This problem is top of mind for many Cornellians. The instrumentless menace, the unaccompanied scourge, the A CAPPELLANS, have unleashed a series of torturous concerts, and they are not through. They never will be. 

I ask you: remains there a single Cornellian untouched by this blight? Do we want innocent first-years exposed to this, hurt by this, for years to come? Do you, dear reader, want to deal with another wave of concerts ever again?

Fortunately, there is hope. As Cornell carries this curse, so too is it blessed—for a solution lurks nearby. Many Cornellians have had the misfortune of spotting this wretched place. Perhaps, while browsing Olin’s stacks or strolling atop the slope, you have noticed in the distance two unsightly towers and a grotesque spire. That, my friend, is Ithaca College. 

Most Cornellians only ever think of this peculiar institution when we encounter one of their students in the Commons or on a bus—and then quickly forget about it. Unfortunately, our current problem requires us to learn a bit about them. You see, Ithaca College is largely a music school. Whereas we rightly judge the A CAPPELLANS as strange and dangerous, Ithaca College and its students welcome, encourage, and support these deviant beatboxers and ooh-ahhers. I will not claim to know what goes on in their minds to bring them to such a conclusion, but, needless to say, it is twisted and dark.

A solution to our woes, then, presents itself. I say, for the good of Cornell and Cornellians, expel the A CAPPELLANS! Let them live amongst their wicked brothers and sisters!

Perhaps the humanitarians reading this are wary. Friends, I assure you this solution is best for everyone. We Cornellians will be free from this scourge, but the A CAPPELLANS, too, will be happier at their new home. No longer will a majority of their concert audience be there by coercion—as hard as that is to imagine! To anyone concerned about the plan’s feasibility: it is less than an hour’s walk from Central Campus to Ithaca College. Given this geographical blessing, the A CAPPELLANS can make their way on foot, requiring no investment from the university. And for those of you—if you do exist—who do not take issue with the plan’s execution but rather with its objective, I say: leave with them! If you harbor sympathies for these monsters, follow them to Ithaca College, that dark den of sin. We shall see how long your sympathy lasts.

My good Cornellians, this plan requires no money, no university resources. All it requires is bravery. President Pollack, be brave! See the people’s will carried out! Expel the infernal A CAPPELLANS once and for all!

Club Celebrating Seniors With New “Thank God They’re Gone” Speech Tradition

GOLDWIN SMITH HALL–In a refreshing bout of honesty, Cornell’s most exclusively selective premier business club, Cornell Opportunity Consulting, celebrated their graduating class with a new tradition: sharing how thankful all the returning members are to never have to see them again.

“Samantha, if it wasn’t for Cornell Opportunity Consulting I would never have had the misfortune of meeting you,” began COC’s president Benjamin Snee ’23, loading up a pretty deck of slides to provide graphic support for his speech. “I can confidently say I dreaded reading every single text you sent me, like, bitch… you need a therapist, not an e-board position. Thank fucking god you’re gone next year. And, your boyfriend sucks.”

Other speakers at the celebration harkened it as a cathartic exercise in self-care.

“For far too long we’ve been forced to make up fake platitudes for our graduating members, as if they were an important part of our time here at Cornell or something,” said Nicole Truly ‘24 through tears of joy. “Like fuck, what am I supposed to say? That I can’t imagine Cornell without them? I totally can! It’d so much better!”

The event brought unique challenges to the speakers unfamiliar with the social norms of letting their true opinions be heard.

“Before, I was worried because I thought I had nothing negative to say about Kevin. He could give me a rec for a job, you know,” said Nicholas Wilhelm Lee ‘24. “But then he opened his ugly ass mouth, and I remembered this is the dude who derails every goddamn meeting with his ‘humor.’ Good riddance.”

The seniors could be found later complaining that they should have hazed the new members.

Club Who Received 0 Applications Brags About Its Extremely Low Acceptance Rate

WILLARD STRAIGHT HALL—The beginning of each semester is filled with students vying for acceptances into the ranks of Cornell’s most competitive extracurricular organizations. This semester, the Cornell Startup Fund For High Potential Future Entrepreneurs (CSF^2HPFE) appears to have claimed the title of lowest acceptance rate, after receiving exactly zero applications. 

“Every semester we face the tough decision of deciding which of our qualified applicants are talented enough to join CSF^2HPFE. It always hurts to reject an applicant, but I hope seeing just how low our acceptance rate was this semester, it will motivate them to try harder and beat the odds the next time around,” stated club president Drew Branfield ‘22. 

Applying for CSF^2HPFE consists of an intensive five part process that includes a letter of recommendation, written essay, three rounds of interviews, and two-day survival retreat. 

“As soon as I’d heard of CSF^2HPFE I thought it would be the perfect fit for me,” says Alex Ferber ‘23, founder of a biomedical device startup that went public in 2021, “I’d even gotten Jack Dorsey from Twitter to write a letter of recommendation. But after hearing about Drew’s achievements [Founder of CSF^2HPFE, Dean’s List All Semesters] I didn’t know if I’d done enough to warrant applying.”

The club, established in 2018, prides itself on attracting only the most driven, innovative, and revolutionary students in the business sphere, evident by its current membership consisting of Branfield ‘22, and Kyle Branfield ‘24, Drew Branfield’s younger brother.

Club E-Board Locked In Vicious, Week-Long Debate Over Which Shade of Red Merch Should Be

After weeks of tumultuous, passionate and near-violent discussion, the Executive Board of Cornell’s Student Macrame Initiative has failed to reach consensus on the color of official club merchandise.

“It would be absolutely unethical to allow any merch to be ordered in this shade of red,” Vice President of Outreach James London explained. “First of all, it’s extremely tacky. What is this tone, Crimson? Scarlet? Rose? We’d be much better off with a toned down shade like Sangria or Burgundy. I will not let our esteemed macrame society be tarnished by such frippery and frivolity, even if I have to take the entire process down with me.”

During the second meeting of the semester, different merch factions attempted to compromise by forming a coalition to push the sweatshirt through voting. However, other members were able to block this action due to a technicality in the club’s constitution allowing for a “merch filibuster” on the grounds that the merch designs contained improper color schemes.

“I was really optimistic going into last week’s all-hands meeting,” club Treasurer Jordan Manley ‘25 remembered. “It’s the only job I have this semester, so I had lots of really creative designs and options for everyone. I’m talking club T-shirts, bucket hats, sweatshirts, and a really nice bomber jacket that we could get for just $225 per member. Unfortunately, I think the color thing really put people off, and now there’s a turf war between the Scarlet Squad and the Burgundy Boys that I’m caught in the middle of.”

As of writing, the Macrame Initiative was able to place an order of Sangria-shade sweatshirts, only to be blocked by Cornell’s Campus Activities Office for violating the university’s copyright on “Carnelian Red.”

Cornell’s Business Frats Shocked To Learn Of Radical New Networking Technique Called “Making Friends In Class”

DYSON—Cornell University’s business fraternities are in a state of totality after a stunning revelation has upended their very world. It all began Monday morning when during a recruiting call with Morgan Stanley, the moderator Kaity Moleeto ‘17 revealed that she had first been drawn to investment banking when a classmate in her financial accounting course during her freshman year asked if she had any interest in entering finance. When asked during the Q&A which business fraternity Moleeto had been a part of in her time at Cornell, the alumna paused for a moment before saying “I’m going to level with you guys, I never saw the need to join one. I was able to connect with enough people who would be in the industry with me by making friends in class.”

The shockwaves that Moleeto inadvertently created have caused an identity crisis among the business fraternities on campus. It would appear that the radical notion of being friendly to peers in class has largely not been factored into the culture of Cornell’s business frats, which have relied on endless case studies and binge drinking as their foremost networking practices.

Roberta Hoal, a junior in Dyson who attended the call, was astonished by this notion- “What did she mean she wasn’t in a business frat? How can you work in finance if you don’t join PGN, DSP, or even the Cornell Hedge Fund??”

Hoal was not the only audience member who was taken aback by the idea of someone successfully networking outside of a pre-professional setting. Aidan Swaak, a senior who sources claim “won’t shut the fuck up” about his return offer to Citi, was visibly crushed to learn that making friends in class is also a good way to find connections in finance.

“I honestly don’t know how to move forward. I’ve been in a business frat since I was a freshman thinking that was the only way to make it to Wall Street.” said Swaak, continuing, “I wouldn’t have spent hours in Excel doing analytical simulations if I’d known the kids in my classes were also trying to work in finance.”

Cornell Advocacy Project and Knitting Group in Vicious Fight to Recruit Freshman Uninterested in Both Clubs

NORTH CAMPUS—After a first few weeks filled with uncertainty and confusion, Cornell clubs have resumed their reassuring annual tradition of merciless combat over freshmen who clearly have no interest in joining those clubs.

“Honestly, it’s flattering that they want me to join,” admitted John Bates ‘25. “But I’m just not the type of person they’re looking for. Engaging in politics and making a difference? Learning a new skill to relax and make cool things for my friends? I’m looking for something more my speed, probably a club that doesn’t chase me up the stairs of Dickson begging me to apply to something I will definitely get rejected from.”

In reports made to the Tatkon Center for First-Year Students, various freshmen claim to have been caught in the middle of a co-curricular crossfire while taking leisurely strolls around RPCC or Appel Commons. Transfer students have reported a constant feeling of being watched by their RA who just learned the art of crochet. Yet, according to the clubs themselves, their efforts are simply unavoidable.

“Look, we aren’t here to make anyone uncomfortable.” explained Advocacy Project secretary Alice Kemp ‘23. “But those knitting nerds have quarter cards in every common space, every rec center, and there isn’t a co-op board around without their contact information. If we don’t teach these freshmen about the wonders of civic participation before they sink their needles in, they’re goners. ClubFest is war, and the Advocacy Project takes all the prisoners it can.”

At press time, freshmen concerned over the intensity and squareness of the rival clubs have found asylum in the humanitarian, chill recruiting efforts of Cornell’s leading satire paper.

Cornell Sends ROTC Students to Study Abroad in Afghanistan

KABUL, AFGHANISTAN—Last Monday, Max Trent ‘23 and twenty of his fellow ROTC cadets boarded one of the last flights to Kabul alongside American soldiers for an enticing cultural enrichment study abroad program in Afghanistan.

“I’m super excited to go to Kay-bull,” said an excited Trent, “it gets so cold here in Ithaca I’m really looking forward to spending all semester in the nice warm desert with the Afgangi’s. We’re super excited to be on this mission, it’ll be a nice break from the prelim season.”

Last week, the U.S. military, low on volunteers, reached out to Cornell and other American universities for the last few people who couldn’t say no. In their recruitment, the military sought out the loudest and most confident individuals, all of whom claimed they could beat the Taliban blindfolded and without fellow ROTC cadet and certified alpha male Beermaster’s help.

The ROTC boys were excited to participate in a range of cultural activities such as archaeological digs for vital mineral resources the US left behind, paper macheing CIA documents that had not yet been destroyed, and a bowling night at the former U.S. embassy.

“I think I stand a really good chance against the Taliban,” Trent added. “Yeah they have tons of abandoned American weaponry, but do they have Bront, Mitch, and Cody on their side? My boy Beermaster can run a mile shirtless in 18 minutes, can the Taliban do that?”

Tragically, Trent’s confidence wavered as soon as their plane landed in Afghanistan, and even the soothing voice of Beermaster couldn’t prevent his pants from wettening.

Cornell Clubs Strike Down Eviction Moratorium for Alumni Lingering in Group Chats

WILLARD STRAIGHT HALL—With the inception of the Fall 2021 semester, Cornell clubs have lifted their controversial policy allowing recent alumni to remain in group chats despite no longer qualifying as official members.


“While there is no question that the Covid-19 pandemic has made it difficult for new graduates to explore new opportunities, that does not mean we can simply override club rules at the drop of a hat,” said George Adrian ‘22, vice president of the hip-hop tribute group 2Pacapella. “Any such policy would have to be put in place by the SAFC itself.”


The moratorium, which has extended all the way back to March 2020, grew increasingly divisive throughout the summer of 2021 as two fully graduated classes lingered in undergrad-specific clubs. Hailed as a crucial protection by advocates and derided as an unjustified handout by critics, the unofficial but near-universal policy faced renewed backlash as past members began to take space away from 2025 first-years. Still, its removal has been met with mixed emotions, with the harshest criticism coming from the affected classes.


“I did so much for that club, and this is how they repay me?” cried Cam Elliott ‘20. “My whole life was back there in 2Pacapella. Where am I supposed to go now? People tell me to just find another singing group devoted to the life and works of Tupac Shakur, but they don’t know it’s not that simple. Cast out alone, I may be forced to join some group exalting a much less influential artist… god, I can’t even imagine what that would mean for me.”


At press time, clubs announced that executive board chats would be exempt from the ruling “in case we don’t know how some of the stuff works.”

Presumptuous Host Ends Meeting For All

WILMINGTON, DE—Following a rallying end-of-semester speech from Salsa Club’s president, G-Body members were left staring at a Zoom dialogue box after meeting host VP Doug Bowens ’21 brazenly chose the “End Meeting for All” function. 

“This was my last club meeting as a Cornell student,” reminisced woeful President Devon Andes ’20, awkwardly closing the dialogue box before the 5-second timer hit zero. “I had a lineup of thank-you’s to give out to this year’s E-Board, so I guess I’ll just text them.”

Hundreds of miles away, a leather jacket clad Bowens put on Ray Bans, leaned back in his chair, and lit up a cigarette. “Sorry kids but this Zoom meeting ends when I say so. You want forgiveness? Go to church.” 

At press time, a power-tripping Bowens forced members to wait to be admitted and demanded a “please and thank you” before enabling screen share capabilities to all participants.