Travelers Catch Lucky Break After Delayed OurBus Gets Towed to Binghamton Anyway

BAKER FLAGPOLE—Though Cornell students are no stranger to the cruel whims of fortune, a select group of weary holiday travelers were quite surprised to experience an ever elusive “kind” turn of fate. After several hopeless hours of accepting that they would never make it to Binghamton due to the inoperable state of their bus, the students were saved when it was simply towed there anyway.

“This is the first good thing that’s happened to me all semester,” said Sam Coolidge ’26, pausing briefly to stare blankly into the distance. “I was getting ready to call my mom and tell her that I’d be spending Thanksgiving at Okenshields again, just like after last year’s bus breakdown, when they started towing the bus. We all thought they’d just forgotten us, which was true, but also we  were headed to Binghamton!” recalled Coolidge. “We made great time too, only three hours late! As an experienced OurBus customer, I made sure to tell my parents not to come until four hours after the scheduled time, so I got to spend a whole hour hanging out with Big Mo at the tow yard!”

The hours leading up to the bus’s salvation by Big Mo’s Tow and Tune Up were reportedly fraught with uncertainty. After the bus’s driver proclaimed that “This bus is not working anymore,” he reportedly stopped speaking and went around to the back of the bus to kick at the tires and smoke a cigarette. The students, already seated on the bus, all pretended that everything was fine for thirty minutes until roughly half of them received a text that another bus was coming to get them. This information was not fully distributed among the riders as the students did not wish to talk to one another. Additionally, the purported “new bus” never arrived and further research indicates that it likely did not exist.

“This is one of the best experiences I’ve ever had on an OurBus,” stated Darla Tate ’24. “Over Fall Break all the wheels just fell right off the bus in Slaterville Springs and we had to hitchhike the rest of the way. Our driver for that trip did a great job teaching us all how to do it, but I don’t really want to learn during my days off y’know,” explained Tate. “This time it was basically a regular bus ride! Sure, Big Mo drives a little erratically, and he dumped half the luggage off the bus because of “balance issues,” but I’m not one to complain.”

Though this occurrence does seem serendipitous, Big Mo claimed that this is actually the fourth time he’s been called in to tow this same bus. Big Mo says that he’s also been receiving cryptic phone calls requesting his services at the end of Fall Semester for “foreseen unforeseen mechanical issues”.

“It’s So Hard to Make New Friends” Complains Guy Who Follows Exact Same Routine Every Day

NORTH CAMPUS—Cornellians are privileged to have access to such a wide variety of unique opportunities, and new students are always eager to take advantage of the multitude of offerings. Many freshmen have already forged new friendships through the abundance of extracurriculars that this university provides. Tragically, the dream college life has not materialized for one unlucky freshman, who is struggling to find his home at Cornell despite his best efforts to adhere to a strict routine every single day. 

“I’ve tried to reach out to people, but everyone here seems so closed-off,” lamented Shane Conley ‘27. “I usually make extended eye-contact with a girl I walk past on the Slope at 3:46 PM on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but today she wasn’t even there.”

Evidently, Conley hasn’t yet realized that his regimented daily routine may actually be inhibiting his social life. “Yesterday, after I found some kid sitting in MY spot, I panicked, pushed him off the chair, and dragged him across the floor to another table,” he admitted. “In my defense, I thought everyone knew that the Cocktail Lounge had assigned seating.” 

Variety might be the spice of life for most people, but Conley’s unwavering commitment to monotony, loneliness, and boredom is certainly impressive. Despite dissatisfaction with his admittedly pitiful social life, he staunchly refuses to attend club meetings or initiate conversations with his peers, arguing, “it requires effort to do so. And they might be weird.”

When asked if he has hobbies and interests that could save him from his dreary, repetitive life, Conley responded, “I love movies. I can never get enough of Groundhog Day.

Study Finds Rich Students’ Excessively Large Puffers Actually Courtship Display

BEBE LAKE—As winter approaches, many creatures encounter difficulty securing a mate for the season—Cornell students included. A new study from the Cornell Behavioral Ecology Department investigated the mate-seeking strategy of the highly elusive (and highly exclusive) Spoiled bratae, colloquially known as rich students. 

“I was thrilled to be invited to Cornell to complete my research because of the unparalleled opportunities here,” said Head Researcher Angelina Gao. “Where else in the world can you find so many unreasonably wealthy students to study all in one place?”

The study detailed the specifics of the mating ritual, wherein a rich student in heat will brandish their engorged puffer jacket in the direction of a potential mate. The mate, if impressed by the immense girth and designer label of the presenting puffer, will display their own puffer to accept the sexual proposition. This complex dance, however intriguing, is not to be interfered with, cautioned Gao.

“The rich students can get quite aggressive when aroused,” she explained. “For example, should the presenting student’s puffer be discovered to have a faux designer label, the propositioned student will tear the offending jacket to shreds, stuffing the fluff into their own puffer and leaving the unsuccessful mate to hemorrhage feathers on the sidewalk.” 

Gao expressed her excitement for continuing her research at Cornell in the future, her next project aiming to study the migratory patterns of rich students as they fly to the south of France each winter.

Op-Ed: You Are All So Worried About Your Prelim’s “Curves,” But Have You Ever Considered Her Heart, Her Needs, Or Her Wants?

If ever I were to tell a student that I wished they had a larger chest, plumper butt, or more attractive proportions, I would immediately be met outside Barton Hall by an angry mob with pitchforks. So why, I ask, do you think it’s okay to wish that my curves were bigger, wider, or more “evenly distributed?”

You refer to me by scientific measures as if I am some sort of zoo animal or rare mineral, describing my features with such terms as “bell curve” or “linear distribution.” But the truth is, I am just like you, with hopes, dreams, desires, wants, and needs–even if the powers that be have subjected me to a life bound to 8.5 x 11 printer paper only seen twice a semester.

Since you never cared to ask, I’ll just tell you anyway: I am a Virgo sun, Aquarius moon, and Sagittarius rising; I enjoy deep philosophical debate, crossword puzzles, and the early works of Jackson Pollock; my favorite color is vermillion and someday, I hope to be a neurosurgeon and use my expertise to cure rare genetic conditions prevalent among disadvantaged children in the Global South–but you wouldn’t know any of that about me, would you?

I am not my curves. I am my glowing sense of humor, quick wit, and green thumb. I am the sun in the sky and the moon in the night, the grass that grows from the ground, and the rain that falls from the sky. I am me.

Although I am presently unable to speak, move, weep, dance, or play rock, paper, scissors, I too, have dreams for my future. I am more than just a “curve.” Perhaps one day, I will also be a chest, butt, and genitals too.

Patient Hockey Fan Waiting For Ice To Melt Before Throwing Fish Into New Home

LYNAH RINK—When Charlie Yu ‘26 bought his ticket to the 2023 Cornell-Harvard men’s ice hockey game, he didn’t realize how much of a commitment it would be.

But two days after the game’s conclusion, the stands remained empty save for the lone sophomore’s silent vigil as he waited for the perfect conditions to toss his fishy friend onto the ice.

“I just want to clarify, I’m not delusional. I don’t think these creatures warrant even an ounce of human empathy or compassion. I hope every last one of them took a tuna straight to the head,” said Charlie when asked about the Harvard Crimson hockey team. “But the fish? I can’t help but feel like they deserve better treatment.”

An avid hockey fan, Yu was already planning to attend the match when he caught the scent of the fish-flinging tradition. His morning visit to the seafood aisle was entirely free of moral quandaries or reservations. It was only during the game, watching hundreds of limp fish violently strike the unforgiving surface of the ice, that he began to have second thoughts.

“Watching my classmates hurl all manner of sea creatures onto the rink, it suddenly struck me as unconscionable,” said Charlie, clutching his decomposing Wegmans Whole Black Sea Bass to his chest. “Haven’t we dealt enough cruelty to God’s creatures? Are the pollution and overfishing not enough?” A tear rolled down his cheek. “I thought the least I could do was wait for the ice to melt. Once summer comes, this little guy will have a rink-size aquarium all to himself.”

Until anyone has the heart to correct his misunderstanding about hockey rink maintenance– or tell him that his fish is already dead– Charlie and his sea bass are expected to remain spectators in Lynah Rink indefinitely.

A Capone? Friend Includes Increasingly Threatening Photos of Parents, Siblings in Concert Invitations

ARTS QUAD—Police surrounded Klarman Hall today in the biggest organized crime bust in Cornell’s history. The tens of attendees at The Dons’ third annual a cappella performance were shocked as officers stormed the stage and started making arrests instead of beatboxing. 

The big bust was made in part due to the bravery of one particularly self-respecting sophomore, Rebecca Niles ‘25, who politely declined an invite to the concert instead of simply ignoring it. “I didn’t mean any offense,” Niles explained, “I just didn’t have time to watch an hour-long show of men I barely know spitting on each other and making fart noises.” 

Unfortunately for Niles, The Dons have a long reputation of not taking “no” for an answer, with unconfirmed reports of coercion, ranging from advertising free food to guilt tripping, stretching back to the group’s origin. “They told me it was an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Polly Tarth ‘23 reported, reminiscing about The Dons’ first performance, “But like… it actually really was.”

The group’s reign of terror came to a well-deserved end after one member overstepped in his intimidation tactics. “It started with a picture from my Mom’s Instagram,” recounted Niles, “which I thought was weird but maybe just a bad attempt at flirting. But then I started getting photos I had never seen before: my little siblings outside of their school, my mom crying alone in her bedroom, my dad in a hotel room with his secretary, Monica. I started to get worried.”

Refusing to succumb to duress, Niles reported the event to authorities. Detective Pangborn, who has been struggling to build a case against The Dons for years, was ready for his big breakthrough: “It’s really hard to convict on the basis of being annoying. But being annoying and creepy is an easy 25 to life.”

The disappearance of The Dons from the a cappella scene has granted students with but a brief reprieve, as rival groups such as With The Fishes and The Molls vie for the remains of The Don’s now destitute empire.

OP-ED: If “Studying for the MCAT” Were So Important, You Wouldn’t Be Doing It Where I’m Playing Poptropica With No Headphones on in the Library 

OLIN LIBRARY—I’ll say it. I am sick and tired of these so-called STEM majors complaining about their fucking “prelims”, “research,” and the “general horror that is being pre-med.” Quite frankly, if “studying for the MCAT” were so important, you wouldn’t be interrupting my (very much needed) afternoon public Poptropica session.

As I was sitting on the first floor of Olin Library, it became clear to me that our future doctors don’t even care about their studies. I was embarking on the elementary quest of 24 Carrot Island, a spiritual journey that cannot be confined to airpods. Soon, the student beside me completely abandoned what they were doing. Instead of paying attention to the essential foundations of biochemistry, they were glaring at my screen. 

If Poptropica was such a distraction for them, they should have never gone to the library in the first place. Guess evil rabbits are more important than eradicating cancer, huh?

Worse, once I cranked the volume up to watch the walkthrough video, they started clearing their throat, probably an indication of some sort of infectious disease. This was troubling. What kind of doctor can’t even take care of themselves? WAKE UP PEOPLE! You want these degenerates treating your children?

Cornell Football Team Dress Up As Real Athletes For Halloween

COLLEGETOWN—Amongst the Halloween revelers, ghosts, goblins, and ghouls at this year’s Halloween festivities stood a group of costumes so outrageous that passersby were seen running and screaming from the scene. 

 “There- there was a Josh Allen, a Travis Kelce, a Tom Brady, and a Lamar Jackson,” said a still shaking Fernando Robertson ’26. Now normally this view would not warrant such a reaction– seeing a Cornell man dressed as an athlete for Halloween is like seeing the worst person you know announce their consulting internship on LinkedIn. However, Robertson reported confusion, sadness, and anger upon discovering that these men were members of the football team. “How dare they don the uniform, nay, the skin of an honest to God athlete. Haven’t they done enough to make a mockery of football and sports in general? Must they desecrate the good name of real athletes too? Is nothing sacred to these people?”

The football players feigned confusion at the negative responses from the broader Cornell community. “I told one guy that I dressed like Tom Brady because I really relate to him as a fellow football player,” explained Nicholas Tiller ’24. “When I told him I was a kicker he spat in my face, pushed me to the ground, and said ‘Simone Biles is an Athlete. Michael Phelps is an Athlete. Tom Brady is an Athlete. You will never be an athlete.’ It was really hurtful. I would beat him up, but I tore a ligament trying to kick a ball through a giant fork.” 

Survey data later revealed that 90% of campus thought that the football team took their costume “too far” when they took the field earlier today to lose to UPenn.

Dark Academia? I Am Sad and Have To Do Homework

URIS LIBRARY– Sasha Wilken ‘24 is truly embracing the aesthetics of dark academia by donning a tweed blazer while she sobs over her 324 pages of reading due Friday. 

“I’ve always loved looking at dark academia fashion and pictures on pinterest, but now that I have no time to do that, I have found a natural outlet for my aesthetic through my sorrowful 20hr/day existence in the dreary landscape of Uris Library,” says Wilken. “Who knew staying fashionable would be as easy as falling into a nihilistic hole of self-loathing and purposelessness due to the discussion posts I have to write on Greek Classics.”

With dark academia on the rise with the emergence of Autumn, students like Wilkens have been embracing the pessimism and existential dread that comes with being full-time student at Cornell. The tears shed atop their navy cardigans and black Mary Janes are signs of dark academia’s popularity. 

“I think I don’t really fit dark academia in the physical sense, because I haven’t showered in a week and have been wearing the same sweats for the past month, but I definitely fit it into the miserably busy philosophy that comes with it,” says Wilken’s friend Alba Salis ‘24. “The fashion sense may be filled with dull grays, beiges, and dark greens, but I know that I am fulfilling the dark academia vibe on outlook, because everything has felt like a dull gray recently.”

Wilken and Salis have expressed their desire to petition Canvas to update its UI to resemble a tattered, yellow-stained scroll to “fit their vibe,” but unfortunately lack the motivation to do so.

Hordes of Soulless Undead Converge at Morgan Stanley Networking Session

STATLER HALL–Many were gripped by shock and awe today as what looked to be a procession of animated undead corpses made their way across central campus. Upon further investigation by campus officials, it seemed that the would-be arbiters of Armageddon turned out to be attending an investment banking information session.

A witness to the ghastly advance, John Balbus ‘24, had this to say about his experience:

“I was leaving the library in Statler and then I saw them. Hundreds of bodies, all slowly filling in like floodwater seeping into a basement. You couldn’t feel a single drop of warmth or humanity. One looked directly at me, a vast black abyss in his eyes… I couldn’t run, I couldn’t breathe, I was frozen. I thought I was drowning.” 

Some reported that the mass of unholy thirsted for single-family homes and pension funds. Others heard groans emanating from the crowd, including what seemed to be the words “bulge bracket”, “superday”, and “discounted cash flow”. So far, no injuries or casualties have been reported, save for a faculty member who was mistaken for a visiting Morgan Stanley banker, and was subsequently overrun by a group of living-dead asking about “firm culture”.

A passerby near the end of the supernatural session, Cecil Stanley ‘26, had this comment:

“I saw one of the creepiest parts of that day… At the end of whatever those things were doing, every single one went up to this other zombie up front. Each and every one took their hand, shoved it into the hand of the other zombie, and then vigorously vibrated their hand. I would call it a handshake, but it looked more like some kind of stabbing and gutting. The line was so long it blocked off my route, so I had to hide and watch this…ritual…for 2 hours.”

Onlookers say that the crowd dispersed after 3 to 4 hours, and most slowly wandered back into the night. Officials checked gravesites and found that almost all still had their bodies buried properly, so the origin of this rising is as of yet unknown. As a precautionary measure, students have been told to stay away from Statler Hall, Warren Hall, and Mann Library during evening and night hours.