👀 Ready for LeLaf??
For your sake, we hope you drink enough to forget the things you'll do this weekend.
In a humble show of school spirit (unrelated to chugging beers), I went to bed races.
I didn’t know what the whole thing was supposed to be about, but as the name suggests, students race in four-wheel “beds.” There was no food, and barely anything to do besides watching a group of **speedy** hockey players take it a little too seriously.
How come the mech-e’s weren’t out there test-driving that damn car they work on day and night?
But I know what school spirit really looks like: a Lookaway t-shirt. Order yours today to wear in the parking lot outside the 159th rivalry game.
Much love,
Mommy Dearest
Journey to Jefe’s
4:19 PM
Just fucked up another interview with one of Dad’s friends. Dad’s pissed, says he’s taking another 10 grand out of my inheritance. Oh well, just a drop in the bucket. Time to call up my buddy Harry to see if he wants to blaze in a few hours.
7:04 PM
Harry just pulled up with some of the Lehigh Valley’s finest herb. Time to roll and smoke. Hopefully he didn’t lace it with blow this time.
7:10 PM
He laced it with blow.
7:20 PM
Just got into a fight with some dude in the Wendy’s parking lot. I can feel the sacred sugar working its way through my system. Nothing can stop me. I am god’s strongest soldier.
7:25 PM
The coke is leaving my body. Only the devil’s lettuce remains.
7:30 PM
Got the munchies. Me and Harry need to get to Jefe’s.
7:45 PM
Decided to stop at CVS first to see if we could have some more fun. Unfortunately, the pharmacy counter had a sign that said they were no longer carrying promethazine, so we couldn’t mix the green with some purple. Sad times.
8:00 PM
Got into a fight with another dude in the CVS parking lot, but this time the sacred sugar wasn’t working its way through my system. I got my ass kicked, and Harry had to step in to ensure I didn’t get killed. Guess I’m not god’s strongest soldier.
8:30 PM
We ran back to campus so we could call LUPD to save us from the townies, but now we're at the station being questioned on our consumption of illicit substances.
9:00 PM
I'm fucking tired.
12:30 AM
I fell asleep in FML and the next thing I knew was that I was behind the UC fence?? What the hell?? Need to get the fuck out of here.
12:45 AM
HELP!
1:00 AM
Cultists were trying to sacrifice me to the Flying Spaghetti Monster, which for some reason was represented by an effigy of John Simon. Guess they really don't like frats. Anyway, I escaped, but I'm a little banged up.
1:15 AM
I'm tired and my ass hurts and I'm bleeding in several places, but I’ll be damned if I'm not getting Jefe’s.
2:00 AM
What the hell am I doing buck naked in the middle of Broughal’s soccer field? I’d better get the hell out of here before I get put on the national no-no list.
2:30 AM
Went home, got some clothes, and got to Jefe’s. Time to eat.
3:30 AM
Just spent $100 on like 7 burritos and 3 super nachos, and they kicked me out halfway through because they were closing so I had to eat outside. Thanks, Obama.
4:00 AM
Food coma. I'm currently lying motionless on 3rd Street and I don't know when I’ll be able to get up. But hey, at least I got Jefe’s.
Lookaway Feature: A Conversation With Work-Study Supervisor Andy Feltherbush
Recently, I had the chance to interview Andy Feltherbush, head of Price Hall Center of Work-Study on his experiences over a 40-year career. Here’s what he had to say.
LL: Andy, please introduce yourself.
Andy: Hey, my name is Andy, the head of work-study here at Lehigh. I started my career at Lehigh before women were invented.
LL: Oh okay…I think you mean before Lehigh started accepting women?
Andy: Stop suggesting I’m a liar. But yes, I was here back during the days of presidential blowjobs; now, it’s all immigration this and gun control that. God, never underestimate a blowjob without dentures. That shit goes gummy hard. Fucking Henry Drinker, he got all the blow then. Let me tell you this, there isn’t an issue that can’t be solved with a good blowjob, maybe some grapefruit. Remember the ATO fiasco? I solved that. Give me some grapefruit, and there isn’t a problem in this world I can’t solve.
LL: Sounds like you’re passionate about this issue. How did you find yourself at Lehigh?
Andy: I graduated when we still rejected all Irish applicants. I still remember the Irish Need Not Apply signs everywhere. After graduating, I needed a job and applied. It helped that women were not invented.
LL: Being a Lehigh graduate must have helped. What made you want to keep this position for as long as you did?
Andy:
LL: Okay. What motivates you?
Andy: I’m inspired by the work I do — or rather, the work I get my students to do. It’s a little crazy what kids will do for a little change. I also dabble in amateur brewing, which is a great cover for any potential alcoholism. Citron Lemon Infused Svedka Vodka. Distilled four times. 70 Proof. Svedka Signature, Made in the USA. That is the bane of all my thoughts and entire existence and has been for my 40-year career at Lehigh.
LL: You’re a wild alcoholic with a penance for blowjobs and most likely a closeted sexist. Do you consider yourself a good person?
Andy: You know what? You don’t understand anything. I’ve been here for 40 years and I’ve kept this university functioning. ME. I did that. Even after my wife left me and my kids decided they hated me, I stayed. I-
LL: This is the weirdest interview I’ve ever done, and frankly I don’t know whether to feel sorry for you-
Andy: Listen here little prick. Little buddy. Pal. Chief.
LL: Let me help you out, you fat fucking piece of shit. How about you meet me outside?
Andy: You’re a 55-kilo female, I will pick you up with one hand, by your titty.
Andy, if you’re reading this, keep my fucking titty, out of your fucking mouth.
POV: You’re Clutch
Saturday
2:37 AM
I look in the mirror, through the mesh of the eye holes. Everything is brown, from my wings to my ballsack. My eyes — Clutch’s eyes — are soulless. I haven’t slept since last Sunday. You can’t see it, but every part of me is bruised and beaten. I’m shaking from the heroin crash, lack of sleep, and 159 beers. I smell like beef, cheese, weed, and post-127th-beer vomit. I need sleep, a Perc, and divine intervention. But I hear something: drums, the tubas, the steady pitter-patter of off-brand Doc Martens. It’s the Marching 97. And so it begins: LeLaf Day.
5:32 AM
Oh my God, we’ve been marching since 3:00 a.m. My heels are bleeding and I can’t feel my fingers because it’s so goddamn cold. Between the drum major and me, we’ve downed a gram of coke already. The worst part is there’s no one even awake yet to listen to this bullshit.
6:48 AM
Putting nic patches on with furry gloves is hard. It’s even harder to take a Xanax when your hand is one big, furry, amorphous paw, but a bird’s gotta do what a bird’s gotta do. I’m taking advantage of our 15-minute break in Zoellner to drink water for the first time this week while watching two color guards get it on in the ticket box.
7:50 AM
We’re marching past Rauch when I see some fucking nerds walking to FML to study. WHAT?! ON LELAF DAY?! Our football team hasn’t lost every game this season just for you not to watch them lose to another equally mediocre team! Wine and Spirits hasn’t sold out of Natty Light four times this week so you can miss the most underwhelming sporting event of your life! I bet they’re the bots who made the “Lafayette isn’t Kenough” banner.
9:22 AM
No one…fucking…told me…we…had…to…MARCH…to…Goodman. Fuck…I need my Zyns. On our way up, some Lafayette dirt drove by and threw bricks at us, leaving seven of us dead and four in critical condition.
10:43 AM
I’m kissing more babies than Gandhi. I’m shaking more hands than Obama. I’m a god. I run this fucking school. I’m making my rounds at the tailgate, rubbing elbows with all the right people: corporate sponsors, political figures, and even Joseph Helble himself. I shudder when I see the bulge in his pants after we take a photo for the Brown and White…that wasn’t there before. His fingers linger on my tail before we break away and his eyes don’t leave mine until I look away.
11:01 AM
A bird shit on me during the National Anthem.
11:16 AM
Five minutes into this game and the score is 0 - 12 for Lafayette. Three Lehigh players are already injured and one’s on the phone with his dad trying to pull some strings to change the score.
12:45 PM
In true LeLaf fashion, the score hasn’t changed since the first five minutes of the game. Concealed by my beak, I take a whiff of smelling salts and then do a backflip. The crowd goes wild - it’s the first time they’ve cheered since the tailgate bar gave up carding students this morning.
1:20 PM
The refs run onto the field to break up what looks like a heated brawl between two Laf players only to find out it’s a tickle fight. Typical Laf.
1:35 PM
We lose. Lafayette bum rushes the field. That’s when I see him, the bastard. The Lafayette Leopard. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, maybe the costume is cutting off circulation to my brain, but I see red. I’m hopping the fence, I’m on the field, I’m on the leopard, ripping into his face with my teeth, I’m -
Sunday
10:14 AM
I wake up in the ICU – nothing a little liquid IV can’t fix. What’s funny is that the doctors say that I have something called schizophrenia. They’re saying there’s no such thing as Clutch the Mountainhawk and that Lehigh’s mascot is the “Engineer.” HA! I bet these jokers got their undergrad at Laf. Just wait til they see the 160th – it’s gonna be fucking lit!
Sorry in Advance: Advice From the Lookaway
I wasn’t able to get into any of my required classes for my major during registration. What the fuck do I do?
Dear Screwed-Over Shelly,
We get it – registration was at 7:30. That's probably the earliest you've ever woken up in your life, and what do you have to show for it but some weird-ass humanities and a gazillion emails from the registrar? But, like always, we’ve got you covered. First, Whitepage every professor’s house so you have their address, and then march on over and knock at their door to make sure they open a seat for you. If this doesn’t work, there are still other options. First, put your networking skills to use and find who signed up for each class. Then, lobby the university to instate a fight-to-the-death option to get off the waitlist. If all else fails, you can always resort to the boring option: seducing the professor into hacking the system and automatically passing you in the course.
XOXO,
Sorry in Advance
I keep getting hard during class and it’s super embarrassing. Do I need help?
Dear Horny Hank,
Look, shit happens. Boners are biological and that shit is for real in your DNA. It would be one thing if you were in middle school, but college? Damn. I don’t know if you necessarily need help, but you definitely need to figure out what the fuck is getting you hard. If it’s some baddie in your class, no shame or sweat – you’re literally just a teenage boy. If it’s your professor, maybe you should talk with them after class and bring it to their attention. Professors love direct students, and they will definitely be willing to help. Maybe, they might even help you out a little extra, if you’re picking up what I’m putting down. It’s all about time and place, man. Once you can perfect the boner coverup, you’ll be golden. Keep your head up, king.
XOXO,
Sorry in Advance
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