To every JAP at this school: I'm Jewish, I'm a girl and I hate you and everything you stand for.
To the girl who hooked up with everyone and lost her camera at Derby Days: If your camera is anything like your dignity, then finding it is probably a lost cause.
To my left rotator cuff: How the fuck did you tear yourself. You're retarded and you throw like a girl.
To the fucking elitist bitch who hated on Kevin Smith: The next time you feel the need to look down upon Silent Bob fans in print to make yourself feel better about being an only-child, privileged twat hipster, I will shove a Dogma VHS tape somewhere inside you.
To Allison: You really need to start closing your legs more. You're as easy as MS, just like a walk in the park.
To the pre-med girl I refused to hook up with sophomore year: Wanna give it a try before graduation?
To the Indian girl in MGMT 101: Stop showing your thong in class.
To the girl who sits in front of me in Nutrition and scratches her back-ne until it bleeds: Go to the fucking dermatologist. You make me want to vomit.
To my roommate: Please refrain from throwing up in the water cooler filter ever again.
To PennSix: We should have clarified. It is YOU who prefers butt sex.
To the overly competitive Whartonite who trespassed into our suite to hit me with a green Nerf ball: "Hostile Takeover" may be over, but you should keep hiding.
To my Human Development teacher who criticized a kid for the way he phrased a question and then said "irregardless" five minutes later: You aren't allowed to make up words until you have tenure.
To that guy in the short shorts: You've got balls. Literally. I saw them.
To the Tabard president who keeps Greek Lady in business: Please rub honey mustard all over me and then we'll share a chicken pita.
To the crazy bitch who carries her bunny to class: Yes, we stole your bunny last weekend, and yes, it was probably violated in one way or another.
To Shenanigans: I want to steal your honey like some little black boys stole my bike seat. I don't care if you hooked up with that skank last year. Just like Ronnie says, "Be my little baby." You know it t'would be twerrific.
To Hair-Hat: Your gorgeous red Ken-doll-looking hair has a life of its own. So much so that we don't even notice that you tuck in your Red and Blue Crew shirt into your extremely tapered khaki pants at basketball games. Your hair-hat is the fuel that we need to get us through our day.
To my Llama: Sorry about the Chlamydia.
To the Senior Econ Major in my HIST-107 class: I'm sorry you're going to graduate before I had the chance to screw your brains out.
To the AEPi guy I hooked up with over Spring Fling: Thanks for waking me up from my blackout by sticking your dick down my throat and then admitting the next day that you knew exactly how drunk I was. I hope I used my teeth.
To My Roommate's Mexican Lover: I may have been in bed with the lights off, but I wasn't asleep. Please wash your hands before you touch my doorknob again. Thanks!
To those of you who hate Wharton: Your life is best represented by a business whose LRAC curve holds their TC above TR. Losers.
To my Nursing School teacher who told me I was wrong when I said that life expectancy was increasing: Being in your class makes me wish it weren't.
To the Fuckers who block off the Starbucks door because the cold air interrupts their studying: You are studying in COMMONS -- that hardly makes you Indie.
To Adam W.: Do you realize that everyone in Management thinks that your comments are asinine and rolls their eyes whenever you open your mouth? Please shower at least once a week, for everyone's sake.
To the other fire-crotch on the men's lightweight crew team: You're fat and have no friends. P.S. Where'd your Exeter ring go?
To the little homeless girl in Hopkinson: You have crossed the line from eccentric to mentally ill.
To ma whodi: You don't even know the things I'm going to do to you next year. You don't have a fucking clue.
To my Poli sci professor: This is not Basic Instinct, but thanks for implanting the vivid image of you naked on a desk, uncrossing your legs during lecture last week. Sick fuck.
To the "Rhodes Scholar" in Phi Delt: The only way you can use that as a pick-up line is if you actually got it. Nice try, applicant number 2574238. Get your dick out of Tux's ass and come back down to Earth.
To the guy whose dick I puked on: Thanks for graduating. Things were getting awkward.
To JG: Here's an ice pick for your permafrost-covered heart. Love, everyone you've ever met.
To the switch-hitter who indiscriminately made out with everyone during Derby Days: We all knew you were a whore before, but now we have it confirmed on our digital cameras. Even in the bottom of the ninth with the bases loaded, our team still took it home, without the help of your girl-on-girl single.
To Sebastian the Bird: I knew you wanted to fuck when your plumage emerged like woah. By the way, I'm pregnant. We flung safe until the condom broke. Right now I'm looking for some good twigs for a nest.
To Rebekah: We know you don't have friends, so we thought you would appreciate a "shoutout". Don't stress too much about finals, and you can always lose weight when you come home. We love you. Mom and Dad
P.S. Please make sure to e-mail Harold Goldstein about Beth Shalom Day Camp this summer. Great resume builder. If you decide not to, Bubbie knows someone at the JCC.
To the junior Tri Delt who shows up at every Phi Delt dinner and makes out with her boyfriend in front of everyone: We told him to dump your fat, ugly ass so there will be food left for the rest of us.
To the coke fiend in Mask & Wig: Can we get a private showing of you in your Elmo thong? Love, Your admiring photographers
To PJ, my love: Get the fuck back to this continent. Couldn't you have left your cock here while you went abroad? -- RL
To Ed's Buffalo Wings and Pizza: Get rid of that ad you run every week in 34th Street. If you eat Ed's for three weeks and look like this schmuck, count me out. He probably hasn't seen his penis since the third grade.
To 34th Street: Stop being so awkwardly unfunny. Love, EVERYONE.
To my French 140 Teacher (3-4 p.m.): You can conjugate my verbs anytime. Qu'est-que vous feriez ce soir? Je vous attendrai! --Your sexy student.
To the ZBT senior in my real estate class: I don't care that you are a pretentious asshole. I secretly want you to order me around in the bedroom.
To the female student body: Grow some breasts and social graces. You make Brokeback Mountain look like a solution.
To the girls decked out in caution tape during Fling: I have some cautioning for you: You may be hot, but that doesn't make you too cool to talk to me at the bars. Get over it.
To my whipped roommate: Get out while you still can, the dome isn't that good. Trust me, I know.
To our housemate: We would take a bullet for you, but that third wheel is more like a chainsaw to the face.
To the new Sigma Kappa sisters: Sorry about your rejection from Tri Delt.
To my virgin friend: You couldn't get laid if you went to a Theta party with a gram of coke tied around your schlong.
To the virgin who can't drive: Now you just can't drive.
To the sucky girl who's dating the guy who is too good for her: Congratulations. You've managed to make him as boring as you and now you two deserve each other. And you look like Lew Blum.
To Mountaineer: We won't forget about Samir or the restraints. Ever.
To the guy who has a Facebook group dedicated to his Facebook poking antics: You are 28, and no one is interested in you.
To our Econ professor: Stop being so arrogant. We all know you worked for fucking Greenspan, and we really don't give a shit.
To the Skulls senior in my BPUB 201 class: Dump your girlfriend so we can have hot gay sex in the Huntsman bathroom.
To Fratty McFraterstein in SAE: Ever think about hooking up with a dude? I mean, a hole's a hole.
To the closeted homo in Sigma Chi: Remember the time we hooked up in the chapter house,and I blew my load all over your face?
To the juniors in Tri-Delt: Tri eating a sandwich.
To the Filipino Theta: You're a cunt. Love, everyone.
To the Alpha Phi sophomore that shat on my bed during anal sex: You owe me a pair of 500-count Egyptian cotton sheets.
To my ENGL 255 teacher: Do us all a favor. Quit being the worst professor ever and go back to your old job as the Crypt Keeper. You're so old you fart dust.
To Everyone Who Is Not a Senior (and all you over-achievers): NO! NO, I do not know what I'm "doing next year!" I don't care about being in "The City!" I can barely decide on what I'm doing in 10 minutes, let alone selling my soul to the financial district. So, shut the fuck up!
To the Pan-Hel president: Are your bangs that long to cover up the hypocrite stamp on your forehead?
To our housemate who folded out the futon for that Fling hookup: WTF?
To the girl who broke my piece and never offered to pay: Shoot yourself in the face with a crossbow, you Asian hussy.
To Our Managing Editor: We will never be on time. Get over it, you monotone-voice, huge-thumbed cowboy.
To our roommate who got kicked out of the OAR concert: We know, we know, you weren't that drunk.
To Sloppy-SP: It's cool that I can't go to Smokes' without seeing you. It's even cool that while everyone else is casually enjoying some beer you are blacked out to the face, spilling your vodka on the rocks all over yourself and the dance floor. It is NOT cool, however, to pass out while being fucked! P.S. I nutted in your Kettle reserve ‹¨« ZING!
To Chuck Norris: You're not the only one who can divide by zero.
To the junior in Phi Delt: Please come get your belt because after all these months, the sex wasn't good enough to warrant a memento.
To the breakdancers on the compass: Yeah, you're flexible. We all get it. Now turn off that repetitive music and get the hell out of the way!
To Evan: Could the real reason you hate vaginas be because you're gay? Love, someone who knows.
To Single Brad: It's been a year. Rescue yourself from your troll-like kidnapper.
To Josh Mosley, God of animation: will you marry me? i know you're married already. but i mean, seriously, will you?
To the abrasive redheaded sorority girl in my CogNeuro class: it's impolite to chew with your mouth open, and even worse to talk while you're chewing. You're gross.
Dear deactived SDT-ers: stop flaunting your letters. you're bringing us down. it's not like we need the help.
To the blonde girl who ran into our house over Fling: You thought you were smart bolting into our house, pouring yourself jungle juice from our cooler and then running back out when we weren't having a party, but guess what? That jungle juice has sat there for months and was probably growing mold. We hope you vomited your brains out.
To all those Visual Studies students whose major should be called "Ummmm ... I just like a lil' bit of everything!": Too bad you suck at art. Oh yeah, and stop thinking you're as cool as us. Love, the Fine Arts majors.
To Kristen, the OCD girl in Class of 1928 who doesn't let anyone touch her pillows: I signed the homeless Wawa man into the quad and let him take a nap on your bed.
To brown-haired boy, A.M., in my Japanese film class who never stops talking: if our class was penguins in a Morgan Freeman-narrated documentary, I hope you would be one of the penguins that gets swooped up and eaten alive by a large bird.
To the former DP Columnist in my seminar: Shut the fuck up.
To that girl that pissed on me sophomore year: I did it.
To the girl that got railed on the Pike pool table during Fling: Nice.
To the dude who jacks off in my shower every day: Drink some water and your thick-ass jizz won't get caught in the drain anymore.
To the MBAs who troll for undergrads at Smokes' on Tuesday nights: One word ‹¨« Rogaine.
To the guy who tried to dance with my roommate and I last Wednesday at Smokes': We lied. We're not lesbians, we just think you're ugly.
To Todd: You're shiny and an idiot, but we still love you.
To the has-been basketball player with the new beard: Grow some eight-foot balls to go with that eight-foot collage.
To the three-beer-queer in Phi Delt: Do us all a favor and drink yourself into a coma. You are a woman.
To the cute blonde in Tabard sleeping with the Turk: Use a condom. His girlfriend's a whore.
To Tony Luke's: I've got your foreclosure right here. Maybe you should get some customers before you start acting slow and rude.
To the tall, hot, blonde girl from California I met on that fine, Spring day freshman year: Even though you wear Uggs sometimes, I know you have a beautiful soul. Let's elope. Love, your favorite Berkeley hippie.
