By JACOB BASKES Oct. 28, 2017

While visiting her daughter during Family Weekend, Mariah Aarons attempted to relive her college days by spending all of Saturday in the Hawthorne-Longfellow library.

Aarons attended Cornell University, where she went to a total of three and a half parties. The remainder of her weekends were spent holed up in the library, a practice she repeated while visiting her daughter this weekend. “Family Weekend is a great time to reminisce about what we parents loved the most about college,” said Aarons. “For example, like, staying up until 5:00 AM to finish a civics paper.”

Security reported that when they attempted to remove Aarons from the library, she vomited immediately. “I always loved pulling that one at Cornell,” said the post doctorate mother of three. “They’d say it was closing time and I’d make myself throw up, and while they waited for somebody to come and check on me, I’d crank out another paragraph or two.”

Sophomore Sofia Aarons, who has twenty nine presentations, sixty papers, and four hundred and three exams to study for next week, is excited to be spending so much of Family Weekend with her mother.

By DAVID FIX Oct. 24, 2017

Although reclusive first year student Steve Johnson often feels uncomfortable during intimate, excrement-related interactions, he recently found himself in one of these unfortunate situations with a football player from down the hall. “I typically avoid putting myself in awkward and vulnerable positions,” Johnson admitted, “but you know, shit happens.”

Johnson continued,  “I walked into the bathroom, and, as soon as I took a whiff, I knew I was not alone. Usually, I would have left, constipated myself, and come back later, but this time it was very clear: I would have to embark upon that seemingly endless journey into the vacant stall, strategically place toilet paper onto the seat, and sit down. After a few minutes, grunting emanated from both of us, and, in our excremental harmony, I realized we weren’t so different, him and I. Immediately following the culminations of our fecal journeys, our feet touched in the space under the wall and I realized that maybe we’re more alike than I had ever thought.

Reflecting on the experience, Johnson noted, “even though we have virtually nothing else in common, in that moment, we were just two of God’s creatures, shitting our brains out, and that was enough for us. I will never forget those five minutes with Greg. Best five minutes of my life.”

By JACK REED Oct. 22, 2017

Inebriated student Matt Snyder replicated Euclid’s ‘Golden Ratio’ in the Ladd House bathroom last weekend. According to one student, it resulted in “a fucking mess.”

For decades, Math majors and other sexless intellectuals have tried to perfect what is, perhaps, Euclid’s most notable contribution to our understanding of the modern party bathroom. Until Snyder, nobody had come close to a proper recreation of Euclid’s work.

“Well, in all honesty, I’m usually a peeing with the seat up, stream down the side of the bowl kind of guy—tidy stuff,” said Snyder when asked about his methods, “but that night, my bladder was at critical mass, and there was this first-year from Hyde who was totally hogging the toilet, puking or blacking out or whatever. I couldn’t risk another public urination charge, so I had no other choice but to barge in there, unzip, close my eyes, and let the spirit of Euclid take the reins.”

Snyder can be found in most College House basements applying Thales’ Theorem to kegs or arranging beer pong cups according to Pascal’s Triangle.

By NATHAN ASHANY Oct. 14, 2017

Bearded sophomore Leo Whiteman was seen yesterday reading a copy of James Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake in the middle of the VAC Art Library, reportedly for pleasure.

“It’s a pretty tough read, which is probably why it’s not on the syllabus of any offered courses at Bowdoin,” Whiteman said to the room in general, unprompted. “I decided to add it to my personal reading list that I keep on the inside cover of my pocket-sized black Moleskin notebook, and the rest is history.”

Whiteman, who located himself centrally in the second-floor arts library, says that he often reads such difficult seminal works “purely for pleasure.” He said his literary prowess increased after attaining his non-prescription Warby Parker glasses from a free trial offered in one of his favorite podcasts.

“There’s nothing better than sitting with a nice, long book surrounded by like-minded intellectuals who can see you reading it,” Whiteman continued, his bare feet slipping in and out of his Birkenstocks with his glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose.

When the VAC is too crowded, Whiteman listed the Café sofas and Brunswick’s Little Dog Coffee Shop as his favorite alternate locations. He added that he “takes his coffee black,” but that it’s “not a big deal or anything.”

Whiteman’s fellow Reed House members noted that he is a “complete fucking asshole,” and that “they’re working on it.”

By HUGO HENTOFF Oct. 13, 2017

Sophomore Jacob Sloan is considering a career in interior decorating after tossing a scarf over his desk lamp and transforming his dorm room into a Parisian fuck palace.

“My first year here was pretty uneventful vis-à-vis having hot, steamy sex,” said Sloan, “and I realized it was simply due to the lighting in my room. Who could possibly get wet under harsh florescent overhead lights? Draping the vintage scarf my grandmother made me over my desk lamp makes my room look like an anything-goes, masquerade-themed orgy is pretty much inevitable.”

Sloan plans to further sexify his 140 sq. ft. thrust cave with vintage movie posters, oriental rugs that match his new drapes, and an assortment of tasteful black and white nudes, which Sloan says will surely make hypothetical female visitors, “cream their jorts.”

Sloan’s hall mate Brock Ward has chosen to approach his room décor differently. “I like to keep all the handles I drink and put them on my windowsill so everyone knows how sick I am at drinking,” he commented. “I also hung up an American flag and some football jerseys, which everyone thinks is really dope.”

While Ward’s door is usually closed with a sock around the knob, Sloan leaves his open so that the women in his dorm can see that he owns a lamp with a scarf over it. “When I saw Jacob’s lamp I was sure we could probably deeply connect over our mutual love of foreign films and vests,” said dorm mate Kate Flax, “but Brock didn’t try so hard, so I fucked him next to a pile of old pizza boxes. C’est la vie.”