ZOOM—Last Thursday, Hilda Bowers ‘23 zoomed into her online Math 3930 prelim only to be informed that new restrictions to prevent cheating required that she fit her hands, face, and big juicy butt into the frame of the camera.
“I understand why they want to see my eye movements and what I’m writing on the paper,” Bowers explained, “but my whole ass too?” Bowers wiggled her backside suggestively. “Isn’t this enormous romper a bit too much to handle for the unfortunate flat-butted souls in my class? Honestly, I’d be distracted too if I was deriving a complex equation only to be confronted by the absolute glory of someone’s perfectly round buttocks shoved in my face.”
Bowers and her classmates found themselves struggling to complete the exam while contorting their bodies into ridiculous positions in order to fit the required body parts into the camera frame. One student removed his head, holding it aloft like the Headless Horseman, while another took the exam while hanging upside down like a bat. Christian Nome ‘22, unable to move his beautifully round backside into the required position, failed to answer a single question on the exam, instead spending the allotted time crying about the intense body dysmorphia he felt watching his peers stretch their bodies in ways that would make Mr. Fantastic jealous.
“It really is all to prevent cheating,” Professor Johnson, who teaches Math 3930, explained. “How can I know if a student has hidden a cheat sheet into the crack of their delicious pink cheeks? This standard also applies to all students, so I resent any accusation that I’m discriminating against those large of booty. After all, I’m a big fan of plentiful posteriors. No, seriously, I love an enlarged rear, a prominent pair of buns, a colossal keister.”
Professor Johnson further guarantees that, due to the new requirements, no student could possibly have half-assed the prelim.
In a move as predictable as the changing of the seasons or frats violating COVID protocols, Cornell’s switch to in-person instruction has been celebrated by students who will once again be complaining about the class format in 48 hours, tops.
“I can’t wait to be back on campus and moving around instead of sitting in my dorm all day,” said Michael Herrera ‘22, completely unaware that he will be complaining about the walk to his morning lecture by Wednesday at the absolute latest. “It’ll be so much easier to concentrate once I’m in a lecture hall packed with talking students with no chance of the professor noticing I’m on my phone. I’ll even get to see my classmates!” he said of the people who in a mere two lectures will be “the worst project partners [he’s] ever had.”
Despite Herrera’s fanatical conviction that in-person instruction will save him from a semester of disengagement and poor academic performance, the people familiar with his extremely predictable behavior aren’t convinced.
“It’s obvious that he’s gonna complain about in-person classes this semester, just like he has every single day of every semester so far,” said Carson Cooper ‘22, Herrera’s roommate and longtime sufferer. “Right now it’s all ‘transmission is low’ and ‘we should have been in-person already,’ but you know he won’t stop talking about how he’s being ‘exposed to a life-threatening disease’ the second he hears a sniffle. He hasn’t been this full of shit since last time he promised he’d pay me back for Oishii Bowl.”
Herrera concluded his praise of in-person instruction by proclaiming that this will be “the semester he gets it together” for the seventh semester in a row.
SCHOELLKOPF FIELD—In keeping with some of their fondest college memories, members of Cornell’s class of 2020 were thrilled to learn that many events originally planned for the weekend’s in-person homecoming had been canceled or made virtual at the last minute, much as they recalled the latter days of their college lives.
“It’s exactly how I remembered it,” said Monica Gomez ‘20. “The excitement and anticipation building for months only to come crashing down in the form of an accusatory email right before the big day? That’s the Cornell that I know and love.”
While graduates expressed some interest in festivities such as the fireworks and laser shows, they overwhelmingly agreed that these events’ cancelations truly made them feel at home. Many reasoned that while such events might be nice, they would feel out of place for alumni whose college experiences came to be defined by Zoom.
“I was honestly a little disappointed that there were so many things going on—it just didn’t feel like my life at Cornell, you know?” said Kenny Callaway ‘20. “But now, this weekend’s gonna be so nostalgic: bad wifi connections, people forgetting to mute themselves, sitting alone in my room watching a shitty DJ perform 2000 miles away… that’s truly befitting of the class of 2020.”
Several alumni noted with dismay that the football game would still take place, but reasoned that completely ignoring Cornell athletics was another worthy school tradition.
CLARA DICKSON HALL – In a desperate attempt to impress his peers, Jonah Brockston ’24 tried to highlight just how many people he has interacted with by changing his background to a quarantine room in Statler.
“It could’ve been from that massive party I went to this weekend at that one fraternity with all the hot girls,” Brockston explained to his online freshman writing seminar while double fisting a White Claw and a Keystone. “But it’s so hard to tell. I’ve seen so many people in the last 10-14 days that I can’t even keep track.”
Brockston kept up the act during class, going off-mute several times to take obviously fake phone calls from his purported friends and gratuitously coughing throughout the meeting. His transparent charade confused fellow classmates.
“I don’t understand why he thinks this makes him look cool,” said a bewildered Estefania Sanchez ’24. “If he broke social distancing guidelines or got COVID, it isn’t something to joke about. He 100% didn’t, but, you know, in theory.”
After class, Brockston sat alone in his Dickson dorm room and reported himself for a Behavioral Compact Violation so he could post about it on Instagram.
COLLEGETOWN—Brad Michelson ‘23 has recently taken steps to make his fellow Introductory Economics students aware of the fact that he and his girlfriend regularly engage in sex.
As Michelson and his girlfriend, Anita Kripke ‘23, can no longer terrorize Temple of Zeus go-ers with their self-made softcore porn due to social distancing and face covering requirements, they have moved onto the virtual sphere to parade their heterosexuality around. As one of the three students who keeps his camera on during lecture, his careful orchestration of the Zoom frame was evident to everyone else in the class.
“It started out with strange Zoom camera angles,” said one anonymous classmate. “He literally would only show a colorful collection of hickeys on camera. Like, just his neck. No face or anything. Break-out rooms were so awkward.”
Michelson reportedly began slowly inching his girlfriend closer into view with every subsequent lecture, purportedly “craning his neck in impossible ways to make sure everyone could tell that the vague figure in the background was in fact the girlfriend in question.”
According to a chat he “accidentally” sent to everyone, “the only curves the losers in this class get to see are PPF curves.” Kripke was seen laughing on camera after the message was sent out.
I’m an intelligent guy. I got a four on the AP Biology exam three years ago, so I’d say I know pretty much everything there is to know about science. So when my BIOG 2020 professor seemingly addressed a question to my female classmate this morning, I knew I had to jump in.
It’s not that I don’t respect my female classmates; of course not. It’s just that I have a busy schedule of sucking the samples off my professor’s dirty Keens the second lecture ends, and I can’t have some woman talking about shopping for thirty minutes making class run late. I think my twenty minute explanation saved the class a lot of time, and it only took the professor an additional fifteen minutes to go over everything I got wrong.
Some may say that I’m disregarding the females in my class by so callously speaking over them, but I’ll have you know that I love women. Specifically, my mother, who drives over every weekend to wash my big boy undies and make me crustless sammies. I’m sure if a woman ever contributes anything to science, I’ll respect a second woman as well.
If I am wrong and the professor really meant to address my femoid classmate, who may at this very moment be considering leaving STEM forever because of the way men treat her, let me face the social consequences for interrupting a woman: Literally fucking nothing. I’m excited not to see her next lecture!
PHILLIPS HALL—Students were left horrified this Tuesday after senior lecturer Timothy Ostgarden paused his 8 am lecture to remark, “Now, I’m not sure if they’ll let me say these days,” before embarking on a thirty minute screed against women, minorities, the LGBT community, and the Irish.
“I’m disappointed in Dr. Ostgarden, to be honest,” said Riley Greenwood ‘22. “I was promised an Ivy League education, but these are high-school level slurs. And since the class is over Zoom, he couldn’t even shove me into a locker afterwards. They’re charging me full tuition for this?”
While many students echoed Greenwood’s dismay, Professor Ostgarden has seen a rally of support from the men-who-wear-suits-to-class community.
“I came to Cornell because of its strong academic tradition, and I believe this morning validated my choice,” said Charles Highlock ‘22. “Where else could I find someone who’s still fighting the good fight against the Irish? While I don’t agree with calling them ‘miserable little potato bugs,’ you have to admit, the whole ‘Irish potato famine’ thing is pretty suspicious. He’s just asking the hard questions.”
At press time, Cornell administration promised to “denounce hatred in all forms” and “reaffirm their commitment to marginalized communities” by drawing a frowny face on Ostgarden’s next exorbitant paycheck.
Gurgle gurgle. Growl. Grrrrrrr. Slosh. Slosh. Slosh. Burble. Grrrnrn. GrrrRRRRrrrr. Glurp gleep glorp. I am tummy, and it is time for class. Pop pop.
Snurglesnurglesnurgle. Splish. Sploosh. Brrrrrrrooooooooppppplllleeeeee. GRRrrrrr. Brurhuriruruh? Boop. It’s brave of you to have your mic turned on right now, within gurgling distance. Ploosh. Gululuululugugglugulgulg.
Blub blub. Grumble. DAIRY ALERT WEE WOO WEE WOO! Gkgkgkgkgkgkgkgkgkgkgkgkgkkggkggrrrrrrrrrrrrpppppp. Gurglegurgle. Hmmmbmblblblbmbmb. Grrrrrrrr.
Glug glug glug. RRrrrrrrrrr. Mmm. Brrrrrrrrgrgrggggggggg. Hhnnng. I am tummy, and I will not cease to gurgle. Grrrrr. Burbleburble.
Brrrrmmmmm. Did you think I was done? My gurgles are limitless. Glug. Gurgle. Shoop. Mmmmmrrrrrr. When your class is over, when you consume food in a fruitless attempt to acquiesce my hunger, when you lay awake in bed, I will remain here, gurgling. Gurglegurglegurgle. Grrr.
Ok guys, here’s the dilemma: today, during my 3:05 Macro Econ class, I noticed Josh’s navy comforter wasn’t crumpled and strewn across his bed like usual. The day was going so well – I had found the good lighting and my best angle before joining the zoom call and pinning Josh like I do every Tuesday and Thursday. This total cutie is usually the highlight of my online classes, but my heart sunk once I realized my favorite virtual himbo had made his bed today.
This seriously disrupts my 7-stage plan to have a conversation with him and my larger 17-point program to get his number. Does this mean that he’s going to have a girl over? No one just decides to change their morning routine like that! Oh god, this means I’m never going to get his grandmother’s ring at our wedding in the Hamptons, doesn’t it?
I mean, it’s one thing to fluff a pillow or two. That’s something you do for friends. Even throwing all the blankets on the bed could be a favor for a roommate. But those sheets are crispy and tucked and washed by the look of it. Holy crap, he even OxiCleaned the marinara sauce stain on his topsheet that I noticed in lecture last week!
I’ve already ruled out the possibility of family being in town – his sister is in Chicago based on Snap Maps, his mom is on the docket for a case today in Philly, and his Dad’s tinder account shows him over 1k miles away.
There’s still time for me to thwart this and get our lives back on track. All it’ll take is a Court-Kay-Bauer fire alarm and a chance disappearance of one (probably very bitchy and horrible and rude) girl. All for us.
Shit! What’s a fixed residential investment again? I totally missed that.
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.