Incensed Local Homeowner Kelly Writer Kicks Depressed Wordsmiths Out of Her House

UNIVERSITY CITY, PHILADELPHIA - Days before the start of Spring Break, neighborhood philanthropist and avid patron of the arts Kelly Writer was reaching a breaking point. Nearly thirty years ago, she opened her doors to the many brooding souls of Penn who needed a place to drink tea, write poetry, and wear turtlenecks and stuff. Now, her home was becoming overwhelmingly sad and boring. Where once the upandcoming spirit of artistic innovation permeated the air, the house now smelled like leftover halal and vape juice. Kelly began to consider the idea that her project was nearing an end.

All of these sad twentysomethings had lost touch with what it meant to be an English major, a writer, and an artist. Back in Ms. Writer’s day, that meant having rich parents, smoking cigarettes in the rain, critiquing the greatest authors of all time, and poorly sewing one’s own clothing. Now, these idiot kids only know how to “watch White Lotus” and “beg me every fucking day to get the White Lotus guy to come here,” Kelly said.

After that White Lotus guy came and pridefully ranted about Christopher Columbus, Kelly knew that it was about time to close up shop. The youth had fallen from grace at the hands of HBO, losing touch with her vision for excellence. And Kelly herself was in serious trouble with university administration following the Chili cookoff that was in no way, shape, or form the ice cream social that Liz Magill had signed off on. So, she gave the kids the boot. Now, dozens of lost souls roam the rainy campus in search of a warm, quiet place to consume pop culture and do vape tricks.