Compromising my integrity just to get a thrill is deadening, and I refuse to partake any longer. I’m saving divorce until marriage. Deal with it. 

She will stop for a coffee once, maybe twice. If she grows weary, she will rest on a bench in a public green space.

That’s right. Those grimey little rat boys are getting down and dirty at all hours of the day and night.

“To all those near and dear to me, I regret to inform you that I will no longer be engaging with you physically, socially, or emotionally. From this day forward, I plan to eat, sleep, and breathe music — my music. That I am making. I am making music,” Sampson wrote in a recent Instagram post.

I’ve been here before. I know it — it’s a feeling I can’t seem to shake. The gentle lapping of waves. The buzz of the fluorescent lights. The chlorinated burn. The never ending drip...

The Mask and Wig Club, a private club in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, founded in 1889, is the oldest all-male collegiate musical comedy troupe in the United States. Here is an inside look into the minds behind the production. 

UTB Reporter Lauren Sorantino sat down with Julia Bell from Bloomers for yet another episode of UTB Coffee Chats, brought to you by Gia Pronto Kitchen. 

It’s come to my attention that I’ll never be an antique bison. Try as I might, I am only a twenty-fifth of it’s size, far less stately than I once had hoped. 

To commemorate Rubinson’s special day, Goldman posted the following message, spread across a 125 installment Instagram story: “To the best person I know. To the person I would die for. To the girl who knows how to have a good time like no one else. To the girl who can deepthroat a candelabra. Happy. Fucking. Birthday. Jenna."

“We didn’t want to do it,” Wilson continued. “It’s just that I wanted to be Serena van der Woodsen and Farah wanted to be Blair Waldorf and...and Raquel’s a redhead. Who was she supposed to be? That random Southern heiress from season three? No, it’s called Duos for a reason.” 

Uh huh you know what it is: PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka PennDhamaka.

Sources have reported Du’s annual income as an event photographer to be upwards of 50,000 dollars. Liam Dello (E ‘21), a close friend of Du’s, said, in reality, it could be much, much more. “Evan would never tell anyone how much he’s really making. Why do you think he’s about to go down for tax evasion? He’s hiding something,” Dello said. “He started calling his consulting job at BCG his side hustle. That’s when I knew he was in too deep.” 

“The part where he watches his childhood best friend die from a grand mal seizure was not particularly compelling. His grandfather’s ongoing battle with dementia, juxtaposed with his brother’s debilitating opioid addiction was a nice thought, but not successfully executed.” 

Current U.S. President Donald Trump and tenured Penn Law Professor Amy Wax are neck-and-neck in their years long battle for most shameful public figure associated with the University of Pennsylvania. 

“Students aren’t motivated enough,” Henry Williams Chief Officer of Campus Activity said. “I see them out here wasting time all day long. Well you know what? Time’s up. No more leisurely strolls. No more catching up with friends. This world is a rat race. In a few years, you’re going to have a mortgage to pay off, so run, don’t walk, to that Bain Info Session."

I have compiled these photos of my European adventure to honor this sacred building in our time of collective grief. 

Some students at Penn like Copa, and some like Distrito. In the end, we all go to Smokes. What can we say? There is always a universal thread. We live in a society. 

If you find yourself stressed out and in need of help from your peers, you should probably just do what I do. Run away from your problems and blame it all on your astrological sign. Classic Pisces. 

I cannot imagine a more grotesque abuse of journalistic power. You, loyal readers, put your trust in us and we let you down. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. 

Look, I get it. You have big plans to roll with your squad, but no drug feels better than the joy of giving. Ecstasy who? Help me out.