Kvetching Board for October 4, 2013

kvetch:
v.1 (Yiddish) to complain

Our football team played better when they didn’t have to go to class.

To the guy behind me in Analytical bragging about how high he got this past weekend: I think you’ve misunderstood the term “weed-out class.”

To the hipsters who dropped a deuce on our keg last weekend: this is why you can’t have nice things.

The outcome on Saturday would have been different if we could catch a football half as well as ECU can catch STDs.

To the football players on their way to practice loudly catcalling the girls running by: I haven’t been this disappointed in someone since I saw you guys play last Saturday.

To the girl in HoJo who keeps yelling for the boys to come over because she’s naked … does that apply to girls too? #lesbihonest

Dear UNC football coaches, please spend more time coaching and less time designing uniforms.

Google docs for lecture classes: Unlike the government, you can always rely on them.

But seriously, how do I unsubscribe from the pro-life listserv?

Am I the only one who spends more time reading the desk graffiti in Davis than actually studying?

Dear Jack Rogers, you’re tacky and I hate you.

Almost hit a football player on my bike this morning. If they’re that easy to take out, that might explain their record.

What do the government and my crappy Lenovo have in common? They both shut down for no reason.

To the ECU student who asked if I’m a terrorist because I’m Iranian: I do have an umbrella, if that’s what you mean. Now take your racism and STDs home.

Shoutout to the girl curling her hair in a Phillips bathroom. You do you — or, I guess, you do your ’do.

To whoever left blood in the shower: Save the “Carrie” re-enactments for Halloween.

To the jerk that gave me chlamydia: Thanks for reminding me why I don’t hook up with closeted frat boys with girlfriends. (Also, I guess I had this one coming …)

College budget problems: $8 left at Harris Teeter. Toilet paper or beer? Toilet paper. No, beer … No, toilet paper … Beer … Crap.

Struttin’ to the music in Lenoir like it’s my own personal soundtrack.

To the guy frantically scrubbing his underwear in the business school bathroom: To avoid despair, bring a spare pair.

Send your one-to-two sentence entries to opinion@dailytarheel.com, subject line ‘kvetch.