IVES HALL—Professor Parker Wallace was taken aback early Monday morning when he received an email that each student in his Introduction To Organizational Behavior class had already completed their anonymous online course evaluation. Spending a few minutes perusing their comments over a cup of coffee, Wallace reached the very last without any notable criticisms. It was when the final evaluation that made his heart go thumpitty-thump-thump. “Jingle Bells, This Professor Smells!” wrote an unnamed student to begin their evaluation of Wallace’s teaching.
“Never in my 16 years of teaching at this school have I received a review like this,” said Wallace, before continuing, “This wasn’t an off-the-cuff remark. This was a deliberately constructed evisceration of my teaching style,” pulling up all 25 pages of the student’s holly jolly manifesto, one for each day of Christmas.
Much like toys in Santa’s workshop, the criticisms just kept coming. With scathing lines such as “Ho, Ho, Horrible Professor” and “Would not recommend this course to ANYBODY, even if they’re on the naughty list,” Wallace was roasted more thoroughly than chestnuts on an open fire. The veteran ILR professor seemed more confused about the origin of the student’s qualms than anything.
“Listen to this: ‘Professor Wallace couldn’t see my hand in the back of the lecture hall if he had Rudolph’s red nose guiding him to my seat.’ What the hell does that even mean? It’s a 25-person course; I know all of my students by name.”
Wallace, who does not celebrate Christmas, did admit that after reading the student’s not so jolly letter that he felt that his heart shrank three sizes that day.
BLOOMFIELD, NJ — As students flocked to their hometowns in anticipation of Thanksgiving break, freshman Noah Yearwood was met with the horrifying discovery that his father is once again rearranging his mother’s guts.
“Ever since I got home, my dad has been walking into the kitchen whistling every morning. I don’t normally think anything of it until mom comes out of their bedroom giggling as she brushes out her tousled hair and lifts up her shirt to wipe whipped cream remnants off her lower belly.” Yearwood complained. “I even overheard her on the phone telling my aunt in graphic detail about the time my dad stuck all ten fingers up her vagina all while going down on her. That’s the same hand he uses to fist our Thanksgiving turkey every year. It’s so disgusting” Yearwood said; yet unaware that he was conceived during a rush of animalistic passion in a Wendy’s bathroom.
Yearwood’s suspicion was also piqued by orders for lube and a nine-inch strap-on made on the family’s joint Amazon account. Noah’s suspicions were confirmed on Saturday, after spending the entire night lying awake in his childhood bedroom, staring at the glow in the dark stars and paralyzed with horror as he heard violent thumping and cries of “oh yes, fill that hole too Marshall!” emanating from his parents’ bedroom.
“I really thought our sex life had wheezed its last, dying breaths around the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis. I chalked it up to Sherry hitting menopause, but turns out the only thing killing the mood was our son. With that cockblock out of the house, we’ve just been fucking like rabbits!” Marshall Yearwood revealed. “I miss our Noah, but being an empty nester has given me time to take up some wonderful new hobbies, like herb gardening and hardcore BDSM” Sherry added.
As of press time, Yearwood has found himself spiraling into self-doubt after realizing that his parents are the most popular members of Bloomfield’s burgeoning swinger scene, while he is barely pulling a C in Human Bonding and hasn’t felt the touch of a woman, well, ever.
WHITE HALL—As dusk turned to dawn on the first of October, students around campus who interact daily with Amber Knight ‘23 exasperatedly remarked on how utterly fucking obnoxious she would be today on, in Knight’s words, “the first day of Spooky Month”.
“For our 9 AM government discussion section, she burst into class wearing a dumb Spooky Skeleton costume as if she was still in fucking middle school,” lamented Professor Jackson Godard. “Really not a good day to do that, as we’re currently talking about famine relief for developing countries. Extremely distasteful. Why couldn’t she have come as a spooky UN peacekeeper or something?”
Many students clearly observed that Knight’s desire to commemorate “31 Days of Halloween” stemmed from a need to extract as much joy as possible from her childhood fascination with the occult now that she had become an “adult” in college and faced actual responsibilities. Others transparently viewed the lengthening of Halloween as a shallow capitalist scheme to further commercialize the holiday.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love Halloween. I look forward to it every year,” remarked Connor Paetrano ‘22. “But Amber is totally ruining it by making Halloween EVERY SINGLE DAY of October. Halloween is not a month-long corporate holiday like Christmas; it’s one day of the year for me to get blackout drunk and ignore my deepest psychological fears.”
Asked to remark on fellow students’ frustration, Knight simply said “Every day in my business classes, I see people wearing the most terrifying horror costumes imaginable: future stockbrokers, bankers, consultants, and other types of murderers. At this point, I just sort of assume every day here is Halloween.”
ITHACA—Hoping to bring some joy to what could otherwise be described as a bleak and tumultuous year, the Cornell University Police Department has decided to switch to holiday-themed parking tickets for the month of December.
“As days get shorter and people have gone months without seeing their loved ones, we noticed that folks have been down in the dumps,” noted a spokesperson for CUPD. “Our new tickets are meant to remind people of the holiday spirit and bring a smile to their faces. When you get a ticket, we’re not just reminding you of your legal trouble. We’re also saying happy holidays!”
Multiple versions of the tickets will be rolled out, unique to the offense. Overtime meter tickets will be emblazoned with popular character Frosty the Snowman. Double parking tickets now feature two reindeer pulling a Santa’s sleigh. Most festive of all are the prohibited area tickets, which are shaped like Christmas trees.
“At first the $180 worth of tickets I had amassed made me want to break down in tears,” commented student Jerome Hyunh ‘22. “When I saw the sticker ornaments and glitter garlands on my Christmas tree ticket, though, it reminded me there’s more to life than the overwhelming despair I felt at the prospect of having to pay rent late for such a minor mishap!”
Plans are currently underway to replace the typical siren emitted by CUPD cars with an infinite loop of “All I Want For Christmas Is You” throughout the holiday season.
CHARLESTON, SC–This Friday Jacob Weiss ‘22 celebrated his own miracle of Hanukkah after one night of finals provided him with an anxious stomachache that burned for the entire holiday.
“Oy gevalt, my head is spinning like a dreidel. My hands are trembling like candlelight in the wind. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is characters from A Rugrats Chanukah giving me disappointed looks,” Weiss said of the effects of his single, completely manageable exam. “This is the worst thing to ever happen to the Jewish people.”
Instead of studying for his impending exam or spending time with his family during one of the biggest holidays of the year, Weiss opted to spend most of his Festival of Lights curled into an anxious ball, kvetching loudly about his dilemma while making no attempt to improve it.
“It’s like there’s nothing I can do to stop my stomach from hurting,” said Weiss before taking a bite of his traditional Hanukkah meal of fried potato pancakes and jelly doughnuts, chin visibly glistening with oil. “It’s gotten so bad I can barely study for my nutritional science final.”
As Weiss’s exam concluded and the sun set on the eighth day of Hanukkah, Weiss finally found relief from his long-lasting stomachache, only for it to return the second he thought about his grade.
COLLEGETOWN—After four of the most invigorating days of his life, Angelo Larusso ‘20 has returned to a snowy Ithaca campus a new man.
“My perspective completely changed over the nearly three-quarters of a week I was away,” Larusso said, his face now illuminated by a sun-kissed glow and his hair a millimeter longer. “The snow, the stress—my time away truly lifted me from my problems, giving me insight on my life I never could have possibly dreamed of last Friday.”
The two days off were enough to fully clear Larusso’s skin of the blemishes that had appeared during the cold snap.
“He’s almost unrecognizable from the person he was before break,” said Larusso’s roommate, Angelica Kim ‘20. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he started growing a mustache. I wish I could’ve gotten out of Ithaca.”
Larusso intends to enjoy his new lease on Cornell life by incorporating more Hawaiian shirts into his wardrobe.
MCGRAW HALL—Attempting to spread the holiday spirit, Professor Robert Jones wrote a greeting on the board before lecture this Wednesday that completely butchered the spelling of Chanukah.
“I think Professor Jones remembered only the first and last letters and just filled in the rest by using, like, a random-letter generator or something,” said Jonah Goldfarb ’20.
While the holiday has numerous acceptable spellings in English, students agreed that the professor’s version did not remotely resemble any of them. said Rebecca Roseman ’19. “It’s a nice gesture and all,” said Rebecca Roseman ’19, “but I would’ve expected the former Rhodes Scholar to have at least typed the name into Google beforehand.”
Seemingly unaware of his error, the sociology professor then began his lecture by wishing all his Jewish students a happy and healthy celebration for each one of the holiday’s 40 days and 40 nights.
Thanksgiving Break is often a stressful time full of personality clashes and ideological disagreements. Here are CU Nooz’s tips for surviving!
- Offer to breed, raise, slaughter, clean, and roast the turkey to avoid spending time with distant cousins.
- Communicate only through memes to show your great aunt that your thoughts and feelings are in fact relatable.
- Volunteer to stand directly in front of the television so that the alpha males of your family can’t butt heads over sports.
- When your grandma asks you about your love life, remind her that Mary was a virgin.
- Remember to avoid the upstairs bathroom, because that’s where your uncle goes to poop.
- To help ease small talk, separate the group into three tables: adults, kids, and racists.
- Repeatedly stare at backpack full of textbooks you optimistically lugged home but realistically will never open.
- Write down versions of “It’s delicious!” and “Best I’ve ever had!” on the back of your hand to prepare for your mother’s constant need of validation for her cooking.
- If things get quiet, repeatedly whisper “Roy Moore” until the things liven up. Then shout “Ben Carson” until everyone calms down again.
- Remind your successful relatives that unless you find a job, you’ll be moving in with them, so they better hustle on the whole networking thing.
- If things get stressful, just remember that after this break you have one week until finals begin, so you ain’t seen nothin yet. Perspective is key.
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.
GREATER TRI-STATE AREA — After frantically packing and driving for five hours straight, Sharon Crane ‘18 arrived home for winter break with the leftover anxiety she stored up for finals still buzzing in her head.
“I know that I’m done with exams and all of the stress is behind me, but I can’t shake the feeling that I still have an endless to-do list,” Crane said. “The nightmare of writing an essay on a semester’s worth of God-knows-what won’t leave me.”
Crane was observed scrolling through social media for two hours and then breaking down after chastising herself for wasting all that time, only to not be able to decide what to do next and reopening every closed tab.
“I reminded Sharon to email her grandfather to wish him a ‘Happy Birthday,’ but each time I checked in, she was either on Netflix or napping,” said Mrs. Crane. “She can’t seem to start any new tasks without crumbling and binge-eating raw cookie dough.”
Crane showed signs of recovery after taking a break from reloading the Grades page on Student Center to watch her cat dive into a box, yet sources confirmed that she later lapsed back into uncontrollable tears when her father asked if she had any thoughts on where she’d like to intern this summer.