KENNEDY HALL—Professor Ray Farrow’s 11:00am biology lecture failed to conclude on time today despite a seemingly biblical intervention of frogs and locusts enveloping the auditorium. While the entrapped students pleaded with the course instructor to stop the class at the scheduled time, Professor Farrow could not be dissuaded by the barrage of amphibian interruptions.
“He just kept talking about this ‘really good YouTube video’ that he needed to show,” recalled Sam Levi ‘25, brushing locust limbs off his pant leg. “This thing was six minutes long and I couldn’t hear a word of it between all the croaking and buzzing. Professor Farrow just kept grinning at the screen and saying ‘That’s a really great point.’”
As the locusts began to crawl up Farrow’s tweed jacket, he proclaimed that “the frogs will probably eat the locusts,” and proceeded to the subsequent slide of his PowerPoint presentation. When Farrow’s lecture was momentarily delayed by a torrent of hail falling from the ceiling vent, he promptly sidestepped the new hazard and continued his explanation of the kinesin processive motor.
“I haven’t been on time to my next class once this semester,” said Hannah Lais ‘24. “When the frogs started coming out from under the seats, I was hopeful we might finally get out of here. I don’t think Professor Farrow even noticed, he was too busy trying to see if anyone wanted to ask him a question. No one ever asks any questions. The locusts were useless too, he just kept explaining how the current slide was ‘super critical for the next exam.’ I don’t think he knows how to read a clock.”
The students’ confinement came to an end after all the lights in the room suddenly went out, leaving the auditorium in total darkness and permitting the captives to flee. Professor Farrow then proceeded to present an additional ten lecture slides before graciously dismissing the empty classroom.
MALOTT HALL—Last Thursday, Tiffany Emmanuel ‘24 was disappointed to discover that she received a dismal grade on her latest statistics homework, but was even more upset when she realized that the possibly romantic comment her professor left on her assignment probably also appeared on the papers of the other girls in her class.
“I really thought we had something,” Emmanuel sighed. “I mean, ‘Come see me after class,’ what kind of sick game is he playing? Last week I answered a question and he told me, ‘great job.’ If that’s not an innuendo then I didn’t send erotic photos to my high school English teacher.”
Emmanuel did eventually visited her statistics professor, Professor Nadir, during office hours, during which he sat exactly one foot and four inches away from her and expressed his disappointment in her performance on the latest homework by touching her shoulder comfortingly. Emmanuel saw this as a declaration of his absolute adoration for her while Professor Nadir just wanted her to leave his office.
“She failed her assignment because she didn’t answer any of the questions correctly,” Professor Nadir explained. “When asked to calculate the probability of rolling at least four threes with eleven dice, she wrote, ‘probably more than my chances with you :(‘ and for question three she just drew a naked stick figure with some overemphasized proportions, if you know what I mean.”
Professor Nadir declined to comment further on his relationship with Emmanuel, saying only that he’s looking forward to grading more of her papers and those of other undergraduate women lining up outside his door for an equally private office hours session.
In a targeted attack to ruin my life, absolute shitstain Roger Wilhelm ‘22 continues to be successful at literally everything, while I can’t even tie my shoelaces without them coming undone five steps later.
Roger recently announced his internship at Doctors Without Borders, which he only got because his roommate’s aunt’s tennis partner-in-law worked there in the 80s. If he really cared about the less fortunate, he would quit, because I feel less fortunate every time I think about his stupid face. Who are those starving kids in nations subject to Western imperialism to make everything about them, anyway?
Unlike Roger, I’m not an asshole. I’d have no problem with him being incredibly attractive and universally liked as long as everyone agreed I was hotter and nicer. I could even graciously accept my life as someone who will be found dead in a McDonald’s ball pit at age thirty-nine if he died while trying to seduce a Chuck E. Cheese’s animatronic aged thirty-eight. It just pains me to see someone else do better than me for the sole reason that they care more and try harder.
Nothing I do seems to matter. Just yesterday, he got an A on the AEM 2200 exam, while I was referred to the Academic Integrity Hearing Board for copying his exact answers. Where’s the fairness? If the board hadn’t kicked me off campus, I’d be giving him a piece of my mind right now.
I guess Roger really is better than me — what’s this? I just got a text from my mommy saying I’m the “bestest kid in the whole wide world.” Rant cancelled. Roger may have friends, a job, and good grades, and an overall higher standard of living, but at least I’m my Mommy’s favorite.
BAKER LAB — In the lecture following their second prelim, pre-med student Aaron Hale ‘23 nervously reassured his CHEM 2070 classmates that, despite missing the prelim last Thursday, the curve should definitely bring him up to at least a C.
“I mean, basically the same thing happened last time,” muttered Hale to himself, whose grade was curved from 63% to 78% on the first prelim. “I’m sure a 0% should curve to at least a 65% on this exam, right? I can’t be the only one who slept through it, right!?”
According to Hale’s roommate, Joshua Park ‘23, Hale, who had only gotten three hours of sleep the night before, left dinner at 7:15 on Thursday to “cram” for his 7:30 exam, only to be found asleep on a couch in the Appel lounge at 7:25.
“When he came back I asked him how the prelim went, but he kept avoiding the question,” recalled Park. “Instead, he just spent, like, twenty minutes explaining that seeing your GPA improve over time is ‘actually a positive for med school.’”
At press time, Hale was seen nervously refreshing his r/cornell Reddit post asking how much freshman year grades “really matter” for medical school admissions.
URIS HALL—This morning, during the 10:10 lecture for Intro to Cognitive Science, a single student sacrificed his class grade for a piece of pure comedy gold: Jamie McCannon ‘19 answered C on a True/False iClicker question, bringing the lecture hall to its knees in laughs.
“I never thought there could be so much beauty in this world,” said Alexis Corningstone ‘21, one of the Comedy Savior’s classmates. “He is truly a beacon of hope for us.”
Students reported witnessing a golden light of comedy shining off of the Lord McCannon’s Herculean body as he admitted to his historical gag, causing a wave of uproarious, rapturous laughter. “It was as if the soul of comedy itself was in the room with us that day,” said Corningstone.
“I saw that the question only had two answers, and I just knew what I had to do,” said McCannon humbly, bowing his head. “I was born to do this, to sacrifice my grade on this question for the good of the masses.”
Sources attempted to get a statement from the professor during that fateful morning, but he simply hid devil horns under a beanie and walked away, defeated.
TOMPKINS COUNTY, NY — After approving the grades that would lead 58 students to tears and 17 to change their majors, asshole math professor Nancy Druckman began piping royal icing between walls of delectable cookies to assemble her adorable holiday gingerbread house.
Professor Druckman, commonly referred to as “the devil in flesh”, constructed baby Jesus out of a mini marshmallow and the three kings from gumdrops, and placed them on the sugar-coated lawn. The heartless bitch then patiently applied light pressure to the sides of the roofs so that they would stay in place, all while fondly reminiscing about the visibly-scared-shitless students who visited her office hours over the semester.
With a small smile, the tenured wench began delicately frosting snowflakes along the rim. Sources confirmed that Druckman could be heard repeatedly whispering “I will fail you all” as she topped her undeniably charming creation with a solid chocolate Santa.