1. I don’t know about Princeton in the Nation’s Service, but I’m at your service anytime.
2. Did you know I was president of the BSU? As in, I’m black and single, you?
3. Step into the ex-com office and I’ll show you the new ...

1) Whatever ancient crime forever embittered the staff of Thai Village.
2) The Princeton Tiger’s obsession with third floor bicker. You guys are in Tower, assholes.
3) People who, when you tell them that snot tastes better than earwax, say “Yuck” and pretend they’ve tasted neither.

Mardi Gras never defined my image of New Orleans. To me Mardi Gras was a cliché that was not quite rooted in a city so steeped in two things above all else: food and jazz. Mardi Gras was to New Orleans like a Carnivale mask, worn on one night and then discarded.

I love this show as much as FOX hates it, which is a lot. I mean, running the last four new episodes all at once, up against the opening ceremonies of the OLYMPICS?!

I love Woody Woo students. Their affability. Their political charm. Their electoral obsession. But I know I’m not – nor ever will be – one of them. I’m a prideful English major, content with my metrics, and my ever-mounting stacks of books. There are overlaps, assuredly, between the literary and the political approaches to life – human psychology and pompous writers come to mind – but sometimes, the gulf is felt. And a lot.