Narratives
drug abuse
Drugging myself for fun and profit
I’m not a quitter anymore: I’m a starter. And I’m starting right now. Drugs, that is.
pandemonium
Dozens pharbified in Eastman Quad terror attack, WRUR suspected culprit
All that could be heard was the sound of Phoebe Bridgers’s “Funeral,” distorted by the wind and the just-audible sobs of pharbified students crying in the bushes.
Gourds
The Gourds of Wrath
You frighten me, Mr. Pumpkin. Your violent delights can only meet violent ends.
humor
The Poster Sale Story: A Vignette of Rochester’s failing micro-economy
While most college students are no stranger to scrambling to make ends meet, this year’s iteration of the Fall Poster…
Narratives
The Order of the Idiot
Need a professor stuck in a shouting match stalemate about why we can’t just print more money for the full lecture so there’s less content on the exam? Done. Want office hours monopolized by someone not even taking the class so your lukewarm take on Kant’s lack of relatability can shine by comparison? We got you.
Insomnia
Insomniacs Anonymous
“Guys, guys! We have a new member! And people say advertising our meetings around midnight was a dumb idea,” your Virgil laughs.
Narratives
Confessions of a homicide-report hopeful
Am I hopeless? Is it the murder victim #70 shirt I wear? I keep it updated every week, to make sure I’m on top of everything. Besides, they leave the torso intact so it would make everything so much easier.
Narratives
Browser hijacker… set me free
Sometimes I think maybe I should feel more threatened by whatever hawkish algorithm has its claws in my beloved Google Chrome. But this algorithm is less like a hawk and more like a pigeon — it really does not have the killer instinct that you’d expect of a newfangled browser-hijacker in the year of our Meliora 2021.
Narratives
Crimson Geese
. I’m always so curious to know what drives people to madness — to see just exactly what it was that chimmied a man’s changas.
journal
Journal of a lonely student exposed, published in Museum of Natural History
The deepest caverns of my psyche are stuffed with gauzy, stringy globs of caterpillar silk and rendered inaccessible. Welcome to my twisted mind.