Like many of you reading this, I watched the first presidential debate last Friday. I might have been hoodwinked or perhaps I'm just in a state of suspended disbelief, but I think I'm pretty sure: our economy is screwed.
Let's set the scene. It's Saturday afternoon, 1 p.m. People are crowding around kegs of Natty, and the smell of freshly-grilled hot dogs permeates the air.
I turned 21 this past weekend. Yes, bow before me, Penn is now my oyster: I can go to bars, order drinks and if there's anywhere to gamble on this campus, I can do that too.
The early days of NSO saw a curious character by the name of "Elizabeth Acker" surface on Facebook. Said figure has managed to friend request just about every undergraduate at Penn, with not one student able to confirm the identity of Ms. Acker.
"Hey."
When I visited Penn as a junior in high school, my tour guide leaped at each chance to brand Penn "the social Ivy." We all understood, according to legend, that the parties would be abundant and the nights out would outnumber the nights in.
Obama criticizes Republican VP hopeful Sarah Palin for Congressional earmarks. Here's a heads up, Barack: who cares about earmarks when your pregnant 17-year-old daughter has stretchmarks?
Two teenage girls stab 75-year-old man to death in a robbery that got them $15, which they promptly used to buy four gallons of gas.
Mexican Wal-Mart violates Mexico's constitution by paying workers in Wal-Mart gift cards.
If there's any truth in today's headlines, America is currently clashing with every axis of evil on the planet, and it seems that rising temperatures are our latest enemy on this never-ending list of evildoers.
Despite Penn's Ivy League status, games of "spot the Democrat" usually play out a bit more like Hide and Seek, as Dems are found cowering in the shadows of uber-conservative Huntsman Hall, where Republican presidential nominee John McCain spoke last semester.
The Franklin Building and me - we don't get along. It seems that every time I go in there, Penn figuratively does to my wallet what Eliot Spitzer pays top dollar to do to anonymous women.