To the chapstick in the LGBT center: Thank you for reminding us that the gays do everything better.
To my abroad friends: I comfort myself with the knowledge that you'll all come back from your travels a little bit fatter.
To the chicken over rice man: When I tell my parents I have found a steady Penn boyfriend, I'm talking about you.
To my hickeys: You last longer than my relationships.
To my next door neighbor: She's faking it.
To the French people: You're not assholes because you're French, you're assholes because you sent us Madeon.
To the boys on the swim team: If you get just two more more MERTs, the next one will be free!
To the Mask and Wig guy who took my ticket: You can only show me to my seat if it's on your face.
To the Liz Lemon who walked home on Halloween sans phone, coat, and shoes: At least you still had your night cheese.
To the boy I was hooking up with: Seeing you leave Qdoba was honestly kind of a dealbreaker.
To the sophomore who doesn't know her boyfriend is a crackhead: guess what? He's a crackhead.
To Theta: You guys are looking good. Must be the steady diet of Diet Coke and coke.
To the radical feminist in my gender studies class: Call me if you're into more than just commodity fetishism.
To the girls who text first: Love you, Mom!
To the shoe I lost at Madeon: may you rest in pee.
To the freshman in the Captain America costume who peed on our sofa on Halloween: Consider yourself dishonorably discharged.
To SDT: Did you really approve this ZBT No-Shave November event? How are you going to kiss your boyfriends?
To the AXO girl in the "ratchet" necklace: You are what is wrong with Penn.
To the girl who gave me a concussion: I forget.
To Kappa Sig dog: Stop shitting in the hall, it ruins my walk of shame.
To the Penn Ski Team Officer Board: When you said you go down fast, you really weren't kidding. Call me!
To Kappa Sig: How much is that doggy in the window?
To the swug eating McNuggets at Smokes at 12:30am on a Saturday: I love you.
To Penn Police: That paddy wagon is almost always unnecessary.
To the Penn Band: Shhhhh.
To the frosh who asked me to dance so he could "learn for his wedding": No.
To the 70 year old man who rides his Razor scooter by Huntsman everyday: 2002 doesn't feel like it was THAT long ago.
To the building at 33rd and Walnut: You're the reason I never go to class. (Ed. note: which building? The suspense is killing us.)
To the girl who shouted for me to go "deeper!": I'm hitting your cervix. You KNOW I dun ran outta dick.
To the kid who smeared shit all over our bathroom: I don't know who you are, but I have a very particular set of skills; skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.
To the Women's Varsity Swim Team: I don't think making out with each other should count as "team bonding."
To a cute junior boy who gives terrible blowjobs: I thought being in Mask and Wig would teach you how to use your mouth.
To the Theos boy who started licking my asshole while going down on me: old pledging habits die hard?
To the "Sarah" with chlamydia from the Street's feature about Sluts: I've had an STD too. You're not alone.
To the freshman girl in my seminar who talks about herself and her family and her life every time she raises her hand, no matter the topic: You're doing college wrong.
To the Student Life employee I made out with: Why do my speaker requests still take forever to get approved?
To my housemate who keeps borrowing my toothpaste without asking: Thank you! Makes me feel so much better about borrowing your boyfriend without asking.
To the Theos seniors who go to Pottruck together everyday: When you all walk out of the gym with smoothies in hand, it's like the start of a softcore gay porno.
To the two girls who dressed up as Thai prostitutes for Halloween: Your costumes were Chinese.
To Joe's Cafe: Your mediocre rushed morning coffee and shitty pastry selection have saved me from skipping every AM class during my bout of senioritis. Thank you.
To SDT late nights: You'll never be as sceney as Huntsman late nights.
To the residents I found smoking weed in the same spot 3 times: Fool me once shame on you, Fool me twice shame on me, Fool me thrice... fuck it, let me take a hit.
To that girl in my class: Can you stop being the only one to do the reading? You're making us look bad.
To the founder of Frackit who lost her Barbour at Woodser: don't feel bad, none of us are using your product either.
To the architects behind Van Pelt: Did you really not think the first floor needed a bathroom?
To the SDT girl who looks like Dobby from Harry Potter: No one likes a sassy house elf.
To a certain publication printed every weekday: You're writers dont no grammer.
To the slackliners of high rise fields: Can you knot?
To my roommate: Thank you for always putting me to bed after finding me drunk and asleep on the toilet.
To the girl I was dancing with that mistook my wallet for my penis, and then started grinding on it: I'm disturbed and flattered that you think my cock is 3 inches wide and reaches 8 inches down my inseam.
To my Soc TA: you look exactly like the bitchy girl on "How to Get Away with Murder" and it makes me like you less. I am sorry, I think it's Pavlovian.
To my roommate who never cleans: I hid some leftover Beijing in your room... try and find it.
To OCR: I sweat more from you than from sex and working out combined.
To Hill brunch: I'm a lady in the sheets, but a freak at the buffet.
To the guy jacking off in the first floor bathroom of DRL: Thank you. I really thought my life couldn't be any worse after I failed my Astro exam and didn't land any of the 60 companies I spent hours OCRing for. But then I realized I could be you.
To the boy who ended things because he couldn't handle his feelings for me: I didn't know we were in a relationship. Thanks for cluing me in.
To all of my friends who won't stop making fun of my dad jokes: Try and keep a more "oh, pun" mind. (Ed. note: Come write for Lowbrow.)
To the girl I fed peanut M&Ms who's actually allergic to peanuts: I promise I wasn't trying to kill you
To the girl in my hall whose iPhoto was public for the first month of school: You look great naked.
To Castle: For a frat that supports the Vagina Monologues, you guys sure are a bunch of cocks.
To the worst professor at Penn: You have just talked about how to calculate an average for 40 minutes. I feel myself getting dumber.
To the NROTC: I'm a pacifist, I promise. I have no idea why the uniforms turn me on so much. Can I get an ooo-rah?
To the Penn football team: Do you even lift, bro?
To my bank account: Whoops.
To St. A's: Nice move making that dirty rush event on Rosh Hashanah.
To the Owls boy who looks like Josh Peck: There’s still hope. Drake is uglier than Josh now.
To the Bryn Mawr girls who crash all of our parties: Being a "part-time Penn student" doesn't mean you go here.
To my spanish class on the third floor of DRL: No vale la peña.
To the boy who got arrested at a Bloomers after party: You almost had a cool story to tell your kids. Almost.
To the Chipotle Campus Rep: Thanks for being my meal plan this semester.
To that kid in Zete: You're from Ohio, calm down.
To the College Hall security guard: You are my sunshine.
To Sweetgreen: If I'm paying ten dollars for a salad you better not drop my lettuce leaves on the counter. Those things are precious.
To reporters from national publications: Stop attending our frat parties and writing about it. We're embarrassed by it and you should be too. (Ed. note: What's your ratio? Do you even know anybody here?)
To the bearded kid who sits in the back of my cinema studies class: You are uglier than the average dumb guy and dumber than the average ugly guy.
To a certain bartender at Tap House: Stop Facebook messaging me, you're never going to Tap that.
To the Sig Ep who Tinder messaged me while we were in the same room: I think that says a lot about why you can't get laid.
To the Blarn bouncer who told me my ID "wasn't even close": Please consider the fact that under 21s are the only clientele you have.
To Kappa Sig: So who's the chair for the committee that requires at least one person to sit in the front yard for at least six hours straight every day?
To Elmo: We liked you before it was mainstream.
To the guy who cheated on me freshman year: I've slept with each of your three subsequent boyfriends.
To the engineer dating my ex: the Rodin bathroom was OUR thing.
To Friars: I dare you to take up more spots on senior superlatives.
To the Newman Center: You're the uncircumcised version of Hillel.
To anyone who ever looks through my phone's pictures: 90% of them are screenshots of text messages to which I don't know how to respond. STAY AWAY.
To my date-party date: I just totally confused the terms boat racing and motorboating and made this really awkward. I'm sorry.
To whoever stole my forks: why the fuck did you take my forks? I can't eat pasta with a spoon.
To abroad people: We get that you went to Oktoberfest, it's really unique and interesting of you.
To Kweder: What was it like when you found out Keith Richards stole your look?
To the rando I fucked after meeting in the Radian elevator: I can't remember your face, so sorry about all the weird times we'll have in the Radian elevator from now on.
To the guy I met in the elevator and had sex with: Who are you?? I literally can't remember your face... (Ed. note: Who knew Shoutouts would become a missed connections page)
To all Pike brothers: Please find a better pick up line than “Do you wanna watch a movie?"
To the girl who's hooked up with three different West Point cadets this semester: Thank you for your service.
To Saladworks: My love for you is everlasting. Much like your salads.
You've read the best. Now read the worst.
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