Overheard at the Harvard State University party: Student One— “Maxwell, if only I had long ago perceived the boon of state education, in all of its drunken, gyrating glory, I might have matriculated at the University of Pennsylvania! Student Two—“Here, here ol’ chap, three cheers for the welfare state!”
Not overheard at the Harvard State University party: “Where are we going to get shit-faced tomorrow night?”
While cleaning up after a weekend party in their room, Shlomo Yenklebaum ’04 and Grays “Dirty” Sanchez ’04 discovered a pair of tighty-whities loaded with the digested remnants of an HUDS dinner next to the trash can in their common room. Ever the attentive party hosts, Shlomo and Dirty were at odds as to whether a heap of crap is the sign of a successful party. Says Shlomo optimistically, “The party was so fun people couldn’t contain themselves.” “I don’t know,” says Dirty, “we could have probably gotten some better beer,” as he surveyed the words “Pabst Blue Ribbon,” scrawled angrily in human feces across the wall.
Larry P. Hotchkiss ’04 has found himself in the awkward position of having pissed off the cheeriest group on campus, the Crimson Key. The e-mail that was sent to Hotchkiss warning of his impending expulsion from Camp Happy cited gross negligence in failing to perform even the minimal two tours per semester required for continued membership in the Key. Hotchkiss, however, believes his ouster is due not to his poor showing so much as his unwillingness to include Widener library on his list of tour stops. “Have you ever asked yourself why you never hear about Mr. Widener? I know the sick truth about what was going on between Mrs. Widener and young Harry,” says Hotchkiss, “and, I won’t force visitors to this fine institution to pray on the steps of that temple of sin.”
Annabelle K. Simone ’05 and Dillon C. Masters ’04 are having trouble with their relationship. Simone has proven to be an intimidating presence in the bedroom, which should come as no surprise considering it was none other than Simone who immortalized the line, “Every time I leave my room, I see someone I’ve hooked up with.” In fact, Masters is only able to muster enough manhood to treat Simone like the depraved nympho that she is when he does so from behind. Says Simone, “I’m glad Dillon has found the courage to mount the horsey, even if he gets on from the back—but, once you’re on, the rodeo’s just gettin’ started.”
At a star-studded birthday bash for the wife of a Hollywood producer at a ski resort in Vermont last week, Vito Giuliani Mussolini ’04, Eldrick Tiger Patel ’04 and Bailey C. Gonzalez ’04 chatted up Brooke Shields and her infant child. Shields pointed out her baby’s uncanny lack of facial given expressions — due perhaps to the underdeveloped musculature of her 10-month old face — speculating that “it must be due to the baby botox.” The polite giggle offered by the trio faded into a chilled unease as they noted the sexy way that the overhead lighting bounced off the baby’s strikingly plump and luscious lips.
At the same party, Ann D. Richards, the feisty former democratic Governor of Texas, discovered that Gwendolyn K. Myers ’05’s father George C. Myers was also a Baylor alum. Richards then proceeded to identify herself to Myers as “the gal who jumped out of your daddy’s 21st birthday cake at the Phi Gamma Delta house.” Myers informed the governor that her father wasn’t in a fraternity in college, to which Richards replied with girlish chagrin, “Must have been another George.”