You Asked for It: In which we court dookies and get you closer to the court

Kelsey Weekman (“to hate like this is to be happy forever”) and Drew Goins (dook sucks lol) are the writers of UNC’s premier (only!) satirical advice column. Results may vary.

You: My Tinder matches from Duke aren’t responding. How do I spice up the rivalry and maintain our digital romance?

You Asked for It: We know dookies can be smart and kind people, but the air of dookiness masks their seemingly positive qualities. Consider wooing a succubus or a talking warthog first.

If falling for a dookie is your last resort for love, we can help you score the festering heart of one of those blubbering, elitist monstrosities.

Try reverse-catfishing. That’s when you pretend to be someone hideous — like any member of their basketball team — to get their attention, then reveal your true beauty.

Or try reverse-ghosting. That’s when you send a relentless smattering of “Dook sucks” gifs, like the one of Danny Green dunking on Greg Paulus or rare footage of Coach Krzyzblehbleh transfiguring into his rat form in the locker room.

There’s always a chance those not responding are among the tent people in Krzyzewski-hell. They stink, but don’t offer clean clothes or deodorant. It won’t help. 

That’s the natural, nefarious scent of feigned superiority.

As there will always be a Plumlee playing for Dook, each uglier than the last, these tips will prevail.

You: I’m a senior with Phase 5 tickets???

YAFI: How do we reconcile a benevolent Roy with a world in which suffering of this magnitude exists? Why do bad phases happen to good people? 

Thinkers throughout UNC’s illustrious past have grappled with that divine injustice ever since Hinton James walked all the way from Wilmington, only to stand in line for six hours.

Late-phasers are Jesus wandering the desert for 40 days. They are Moses leading his people through the wilderness. But remember this, and be glad: In the Kingdom of the Dean Dome, the last shall be first, and the first shall be Dook.  

For one day, children, Marcus will make a three so glorious he will transport us all to The Land of Milk and Risers, where there is no weeping or gnashing of teeth or craning your neck to look past the Jumbotron in your way.