“Punk culture is very atheistic in a certain way, and I never felt like there was really a place there for my Jewish identity. Maybe to some extent people would be into us, but there might be some difficulty in connecting with the traditional punk audience.”
“Will Frost— “gods clown,” blue-grass harmonic player, certified mid-wife, UC Berkeley graduate and Abraham Lincoln look-alike—sits on the bench outside Small World Coffee eating a bagel with grape jelly.”
“The College does not endorse the views or activities of any independent student organization,” said Harvard College spokesman Jeff Neal in November of last year, after the College granted official recognition to Harvard College Munch.
The beach is at once a confusing and wonderful thing to behold. Like a sandbox for man children, the beach is full of all the earthly pleasures one would expect of such a place–one metric ton of white sand, an inflatable treasure chest cooler filled with Coronas, a leafy green palm tree and a speaker from which the country stylings of the Zac Brown Band can regularly be heard.
I have been many things throughout my tenure at Princeton—a human, a tiger, a journalist, drunk—but I have never been a lady. Through no fault of their own, approximately one half of mankind never experiences the triumphs and challenges of womanhood, and I am destined to remain among them.
I heard this from someone who’d heard it from one of the directors of this year’s production of The Vagina Monologues here at Princeton. Intrigued by the pairing of frat boys and vaginas (in monologue form), I reached out to this year’s directors, Azza Cohen ’16 and Olivia Robbins ’16, to get the full story of what happened at Penn and to see if anything similar was happening at Princeton.