COLLEGETOWN—Saturday night festivities were in full swing last week and while some were busy with unproductive activities such as drinking and drugs, others were making some very public money moves. Power couple Angela Henderson ’25 and Eli Wilson ’24 spent their evening at Hideaway in a dark corner locking lips and grinding with abandon.
“Some may have signed your lease for next year. Others are on track to graduate a semester early. But you’re not really thinking about your future until you have considered the college prospects of your future children,” explained a smug Angela. “I mean, Cornell could be doing away with legacy admissions every day, so if you’re not actively working towards creating the perfect candidate for admissions, at all times, regardless of who else is watching, you’re a failure.”
Patrons report that when the two were not occupied by heavy petting sessions, Henderson and Wilson were bragging about having it all.
“So many people say that you can’t party and prepare for your future in college,” declared Wilson. “But by coming here tonight, Angela and I are proving that not only can we do both, we can do it in front of you.”
Wilson and Henderson are planning to announce baby Ezra’s summer 2042 internship with Goldman Sachs soon.
ITHACA CAMPUS—In an event tantamount to the burning of the Library of Alexandria, Spotify’s sudden removal of Neil Young’s discography has annihilated the sex playlists of men across the philosophy department.
“Without Neil Young, I might as well give up sex,” complained Dorian Lancaster ‘23 between drags of his cigarette. “Sure, women are great, but nothing will ever give me the sexual supercharge of hearing his simultaneously raspy and wet voice, like a naked man belly crawling through damp grass or an old woman sucking sand through a straw. I tried listening to recordings of my grandpa on his deathbed, but he kept talking about shit like being ‘proud of me’ instead of incisive commentary on American consumerism. What a waste.”
With no end to the Spotify stalemate in sight, the students have been forced to find other ways to announce to the world that they have deeply boring daddy issues, such as wearing band t-shirts, not shampooing their shoulder-length hair, and insisting that vinyl sounds “so much warmer.”
“Without basing my personality entirely around the sense of superiority that comes from getting a rock hard boner from a vocal style best described as ‘clammy,’ I don’t know what to do with myself,” complained Lancaster. “My dad and I had a conversation that wasn’t about music for the first time in years, and it turns out we have nothing in common! If I can’t offload my feelings onto a vaguely sad four-chord guitar song right now, I might have to genuinely process my emotions about this.”
In response to suggestions that they purchase Neil Young’s discography, thus monetarily supporting the artist for the first time in their lives, the philosophy majors were seen begrudgingly adding “Blowin’ in the Wind” to their playlists instead.
WILLARD STRAIGHT HALL—Students stopping to use Willard Straight’s bathroom facilities Saturday confirmed that their routines were interrupted by speculation over the building’s antique condom dispensers, which could only be the last remnants of the building’s former 24/7 orgy.
“Imagine… a time when noses weren’t the only orifice being pounded. A time when ‘business casual’ included assless chaps. A time when Okenshield’s wasn’t the one place you could contract a humiliating disease,” said a misty-eyed Dallas Murphy ‘25, who kneeled in awe in front of the aged prophylactics. “Truly, COVID has taken so much from us.”
Murphy paused to reexamine the once-gateway to Willard Straight bliss before further revealing his vision of the fallen sexual utopia.
“How often were these students getting ploughed that they needed not one, not two, but four daring flavors of scented condoms?” he wondered, stopping only to wipe the drool from his wet mouth. “What wretched sins, what glorious perversities, could possibly tire these Olympian fuckwarriors of banana condoms? And where was Happy Dave in all this?”
Speculation was cut short as Cornell alumni all denied Murphy’s’ LinkedIn requests, leading him to conclude that Willard Straight must’ve been a place for “bighuge megavirgins” instead.
NORTH CAMPUS—Halloween weekend, typically a staple of Cornell student culture, returned in full force after COVID-19 decimated last year’s celebrations. For many students, this was their first chance to experience a true, in-person Halloween at Cornell. After weeks of building excitement, students were eager for the big weekend to arrive and early reports indicate that it did not disappoint.
“Halloweekend was a fucking movie, bro” said Peter Greenfield, ‘25. “I got the invite to Sigma something’s party at their house and it was insane. I walked in the door and the first thing I see is two absolute smoke shows making out. Like with tongue!”
Eyewitnesses on the scene confirmed that Greenfield’s account of the event was not only accurate but that it was actually even fucking sicker.
“Dude I wanted to stay in at Donlon this weekend, but Peter dragged me out,” said James Gomez, ‘25 before continuing “I’m so glad I went with him because the function was totally like Project X vibes in that bitch, man. You know when you see a couple kissing, but it’s like a guy and a girl? It was just like that except they were both girls! It was so badass.”
At press time, Greenfield and Gomez speculated that their next best chance to “peep some yiddies” at a holiday party was most likely Election Day, maybe Thanksgiving at the latest.
MORRISTOWN, NJ—An immense feeling of relief washed over Anthony Moses ’23 after his routine trip to the restroom suddenly became the subject of intense research on the symptoms of the COVID-19 virus, in fear that he had contracted the deadly disease after experiencing a burning sensation as he urinated.
“It was terrifying,” remarked Moses before continuing, “I felt my life flash before my eyes. I had met up with a new girl from Tinder the night before and it didn’t even occur to me that she could’ve had the ‘Rona until I woke up. Thank God the first page of Google has a list of symptoms otherwise I would’ve had to get tested, like I had an infectious disease or something.”
Thankfully for Moses, neither the CDC nor any other credible health organization has found painful urination to be a symptom of the virus which has been considered a global pandemic since March. A burning sensation whilst urinating is often associated with another viral disease, which Moses seemed to have no knowledge of.
“I’m no ginger, but oh boy do I feel like a firecrotch!” exclaimed the sophomore when asked if he had any theories about the source of his calamity. “Honestly, I’m just relieved that I don’t have to quarantine, that would be such a cockblock. I have another Tinder hookup coming over and it would’ve been a total bummer to cancel on this rocket.”
When asked if he had purchased condoms in anticipation of his guest’s arrival, Moses appeared puzzled at the concept, replying: “I wear a mask so I don’t get COVID, but I wouldn’t wear a poncho on Splash Mountain, kinda defeats the point, you know? Stay safe, but Live Mas.”
TACOMA—For the third time this month, Parker Shaw ‘23 posted a screenshot of Frank Ocean’s “Self Control” to his Instagram story, captioned “need a new Frank album ASAP.” Shaw has long awaited his musical therapy, spending the early hours of every day since August wallowing in a deep melancholy devoid of any self-awareness.
“It’s gotten out of hand,” says Shaw’s suitemate Charlie Sedaris ‘23, “I had to move from our double into the single that opened up when our buddy dropped out after his first Orgo exam because he never left the room. He kept talking about how much he misses her and how a new Frank album would ‘hit.”’
Blonde, a genre-bending masterpiece that illustrates the peaks and valleys of love and heartbreak throughout young adulthood, has been in near constant rotation for Shaw ever since his girlfriend of six weeks “dumped” him prior to the start of the semester. “Brittany” (who asked to be named pseudonymously for fear of being associated with “that sad sack of shit”) ended their brief relationship on account of the “distance driven between them by Covid.” Both parties lived on West campus this semester.
In the three months since, Shaw—nicknamed Saddington Bear by friends—has grown ever fixated on the prospect of a new release from Ocean. “I love the album, but even the “Nights” beatswitch gets predictable when you hear someone sobbing on-beat through the drywall every goddamn night over a girl he dated for less than half the time he’s spent wallowing in misery,” added Lonnie Breaux ‘23, another one of Shaw’s suitmates.
When asked if he’s listened to Endless or Nostalgia Ultra, Shaw appeared puzzled, asking, “who are those by?” revealing that he is not just a loser, but also a fucking poser.
DONLON HALL—Per sources close to the situation, the bulk-sized box of condoms purchased in August by freshman Isaac Moore at a Costco remained completely unused at the onset of winter break three months later.
“When I first moved in, he showed me the box of rubbers almost immediately and asked me if I thought he’d bought enough ‘raincoats,’” said Matt Steinbeck, Moore’s roommate. “I was kinda skeptical at the time, but in hindsight, jeez. Did he even leave the room to do anything other than eat in the last three months?”
Moore indicated that while the semester had not gone as anticipated, he was still optimistic about putting his “investment” to good use in the near future.
“It was rough going at times, I’m not gonna lie,” said Moore. “But I think we definitely made some progress over the last few months. A loser doesn’t get 22 matches on Tinder. It just becomes a matter of converting those matches to Snapchats, and then meeting in person, which is where we faltered the most this semester. Hopefully we can make some moves during the break and see some strides.”
At press time, Moore was reportedly “getting real close” with a Tinder match who last responded “k” three hours earlier.
MARTHA VAN RENSSELAER HALL—With the “Drop” period coming to a close this Wednesday, sophomore Human Development major Sasha Wither ’23 exercised her legal right to choose by dropping a class from her schedule 12 weeks into the semester.
“I am so thankful I live in a country where I can decide for myself to abort an unwanted decision,” said Withers, speaking of her recently-dropped class HD 1111: Adolescent Behaviors. “If I was forced to carry that class to term, it would have seriously impacted my physical and emotional health.”
At the start of the semester, Wither added the class after a drunken night with her then-boyfriend, although he pressured her to avoid the heavy load. After 12 weeks, Wither’s coursework only kept growing, and she began to have serious regrets about the viability of seeing the class to completion.
“I just realized at 19 that this is not what I wanted for my life,” added Withers, “I would’ve neglected that class if I kept in on my schedule. Not to mention, my boyfriend wouldn’t have helped me with the work, even though he is partly responsible.”
As for the future, Withers noted confidently that she would not feel ashamed if she had to do the process again. “I mean, the class doesn’t mind! It doesn’t even feel pain. It’s just a few pixels on Student Center.”
WEST CAMPUS—In compliance with university coronavirus precautions, local hookup connoisseur and health hero Tyler Burtley ‘23 made sure to keep his latest sexual experience long enough to be COVID friendly, but not long enough to make her finish.
“Look I’ve been extremely health-conscious ever since this pandemic hit: wearing a mask, social distancing, washing my hands, the whole shebang,” said Burtley. “But in accordance with policy, I have avoided kissing and using my tongue or fingers in any way that would be remotely satisfying to a female, to prevent the spread of germs of course.”
As per public health recommendations, Burtley made sure any genital to genital interaction he had lasted less than ten minutes, the estimated minimum time for viral transmission. However, being the budding virology expert he is, Burtley went above and beyond to ensure any such interactions lasted no more than five.
“I respect the fact that he’s taking this whole COVID thing really seriously,” said Burtley’s latest partner, Lily Harrison ‘23. “Sure, he didn’t go down on me, slip a finger in there, or make me feel anything close to sexual excitement for the five minutes he was here, but it really goes to show how much he cares about his health and mine!”
Burtley has since become an asymptomatic carrier, and plans on practicing these same health precautions with the next woman he leaves unsatisfied.
CORNELL BOTANIC GARDENS—During what could be her last naked jaunt through the largely abandoned Ithaca campus, Cornell President Martha Pollack was heard ruminating to herself, “well, we all knew it couldn’t be like this forever.”
Amid the rush of eager students returning to move out of off-campus housing, and a significant contingent of the Class of 2020 desperate to attain some semblance of a senior week, the campus has slowly begun to fill out with more members of the Cornell community. Delivering an address from the middle of the Botanic Gardens during an unclothed trek across the grounds, President Pollack gave some thoughts on the changes to campus and college.
“No one can ever predict the future, especially not in the middle of a pandemic, but it is always important to look on the bright side and find the little things to keep you going in the face of adversity.” Pollack said, her luscious body glistening in the afternoon light. “I know how positive these walks have been for me, but it is a testament to the Cornell spirit that we are able to adapt to whatever life throws at us,” the president continued, before letting out a long sigh and then reaching around to remove a leaf that had stuck itself to her bodacious behind.
While the influx of students may pose a logistical challenge to the president’s walks, she has expressed her resourcefulness in adjusting her schedule for the future. “I look forward to seeing how I can continue to take my walks at night, with the cloak of nightfall the only cover my supple, bare flesh shall receive.”