👀 How to Get Some on Campus
And the true joy of the Lehigh Experience
What if life gave you grapefruit instead? Like lemons are sour, but at least they’re not bitter. Grapefruit are just big and bad, and not a good big, nor a good bad. You can’t make grapefruit-ade but you can probably make a good hand sanitizer?
Grapefruit has the color palette of the room of an upper middle class, teenage girl, and somehow also harbors the mommy-issues festering inside that same teenage girl. Pretty ironic for such big balls.
I don’t even know where all of this is coming from, I haven’t touched a grapefruit in years. Maybe the bubbling over of my disappointment in grapefruit is cyclical, just like these weekly stories! Except our fruit is just big;)—not bad… unless you want us to be;););)
With Maximum Zest and Minimum Rind,
Group Leader
How to Lose Your Virginity at Lehigh (You won’t believe step #4!)
So, it’s that time. Your 20th birthday is in a month and you suddenly realize that the closest you’ve ever got to getting some was when you accidentally double tapped your high school crushes' bikini photo from her 2018 trip to the outer banks. Are you really going to leave your teenage years without a single trip to pound town, or are you gonna go out on the hill and spend your night trying to figure out if her slurred speech is the alcohol or a French accent? (ooh la la!)
Fear not, because I have the secret recipe to get some sauce on your sausage without the need for jungle juice and frat lighting.
Join a club. The easiest and quickest way to bag a bird without looking like her father is to join a club - the sexier the club, the better. I don’t fully understand it, but there’s something about saying “Yeah, I play ultimate frisbee” or “I’m the fifth-best table tennis player at Lehigh” that will have her making panty soup.
Constantly ask them if they want to work out. If you want to lasso a lass, there’s nothing they love more than working out with a man, especially if you spend that time critiquing her form and talking about how you’re gonna be like Sam Sulek after you graduate. More than that, women love motivation- ask them how much they’ve been working out, and when they respond, glance up and down their bodies before shrugging and turning away. They go crazy for that.
Be yourself. The more you try and be someone likeable, the less she’s going to want to be with you. To win a woman, don’t clean the Dorito residue off your light-up keyboard before asking her to your dorm. Don’t cover up that wonderful masculine musk you’ve accrued with some sterile, emotionless soap. If the smell is that bad, just use some Axe, and if it’s still there, use some more.
Show, don’t tell. What’s true in writing is true in love. Don’t tell her that you love her, show her. To bang a broad, start to skip your classes and sit behind her in hers. “Accidentally” show up to girls’ night. Sit beside her whenever she goes to a library to study. Start a spreadsheet to keep track of her habits so you can always be there for her. They love the effort.
Be bold. If you want a fling with a femme, you can’t wait for a tender, private moment for your first kiss. Sneak up behind her during an exam and go right for it. Make grand gestures, like painting her name on your dick and running naked across campus until the security cart runs you down. Find a way into her dorm and wait in her bed with a leaf across your junk and a rose in your teeth.
Hopefully, these five steps will get you to where you need to be. If they don’t, there’s one secret weapon to be used only in times of desperation - threaten to kill yourself.
The Joy and Beauty of a Lehigh Degree
I Have No Degree And I Must Scream
Well, fellow seniors, it’s certainly been a long road getting from there to here. Think way back to those days in 2021. I bet you’d never thought you’d live through half the shit you have by now. But here we are! Half a semester left until graduation! Hasn’t it been great? Don’t you wish you could live through it all over again?
Remember freshman year? Boy, these new underclassmen couldn’t imagine what we lived through. Mask mandates! Now, there’s something you don’t hear about anymore. To any of the freshmen reading this, just know that all those yellow signs you see on the bus talking about “helping keep Lehigh safe” used to actually be enforced. Man, what a totalitarian state it was, but we still found ways to party! Sure, we may have been spending our nights crammed into DChi’s house, rubbing our greasy, sweaty bodies against each other, coughing in the grain, but as long as we wore a piece of cloth over our mouths during ENGR-010 in the morning things were peachy fucking keen!
GOSH! Aren’t you just so fucking nostalgic right now? Remember Rathbone? Course you do. Some of you still have the botulism to prove it. Bet you haven’t been there in years, but I have! Not surprised to report it’s only gotten worse! Chicken is greyer, pizza is greasier, and the vegetables are even limper than my third wife’s dick. Bet you’re glad you stopped having a meal plan and started living on Birkel Avenue. Now you’re eating shitty food, and you're nowhere close to any of your classes.
And what crazy classes we took, eh? Professor would walk in on the first day of class, and, after five minutes of syllabus talk, would happily start scribbling sheer fucking nonsense on the chalkboard.
But who the hell came here to learn anyway? I came here to get laid. Because why the fuck would I teach myself about the mysteries of the universe when I can read up on the latest Chi Psi drama! HOLY FUCK YOU GUYS! REMEMBER WHEN CHI PSI GOT KICKED OFF THE HILL?!?! WHAT DID THEY EVEN DO? I mean they might have done a bunch of illegal shit, but WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO GO TO GET FUCKING KRONKED NOW?
How could anyone hate Lehigh? I mean, sure I have some complaints. The asinine professors with tenure, the completely vertical campus, the buses that run on a schedule held together by duct tape and bubble gum, and let’s not forget about the two years when there was a gaping hole in the middle of campus where the construction workers were busy killing Salsa Rico.
Even after all this time I still clench my fist in rage whenever I pass Hawk’s Nest. It mocks me. Filled with those snot-nosed freshmen who think they own the place. They don’t know what I’ve been through. What I’ve seen. What they did to me. I hate them. I hate everything about them. I hate Hawk’s Nest. No, I hate the whole campus! I hate Lehigh! Fuck me, I HATE LEHIGH! Not just the university. I hate the whole valley! I hate every single person responsible for crafting this godforsaken piece of land. From the indigenous Lenni Lenape tribes who we stole the land from to Joe Helble and his stupid fucking running shoes.
Hate! HATE! Let me tell you how much I’ve come to HATE Lehigh since I enrolled! There are 2,536 stairs that fill this campus. If the word “HATE” were engraved on each nano angstrom of those hundreds of thousands of yards it would not equal one one-trillionth of the amount of hate I feel for Lehigh at this micro-instant.
HATE!
HATE!
HATE!
Sorry in Advance: Advice From the Lookaway
My roommate’s mom is coming to visit this weekend. She’s this super hot fitness instructor and incredibly nice (and I would totally tap that) But I don’t know if she’s into girls! Please help!
Dear Cougar Chasing Clarissa,
We all have mommy issues. I mean, you certainly do since the idea of an older woman calling you “sweetie” makes your knees turn into jelly. But a cougar is a hard beast to tame. Especially one who knows her worth. To attract the attention of this specimen, you’ll have to play the game.
Prepare the hunting grounds. I know you probably haven’t dusted your femcel goon cave in the past month, but you’ll have enough time in between your Gender Studies and Communications lectures to clean the vent covers and vacuum the floor. It’s the bare minimum, you fucking degenerate, and she deserves more than that. You better know that.
Lure her in with her favorite prey. Put on your skimpiest outfit and do yoga in your room so she stumbles upon you in a compromising… position. Then she’s sure to show you her favorite ones.
Beware of potential competition. Oh you thought you were the only MILF lover on this campus? Oh, honey, I’ll see you on the playing field ;)
Xoxo,
Sorry In Advance
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