An off-color prof

Yesterday, my quirky professor was lecturing on the Comstock Act of 1873, prompting our class to spiral into a heated debate about what exactly constitutes “obscene or lewd” material.

To direct the discussion, my professor cited two guidelines as to what qualifies a material as obscene: if community standards are violated or if it lacks artistic merit. To clarify, she explained that the other day she’d worn a shirt that may have been obscene in another setting, but in a college community, it’d be considered somewhat artistic.

The entire lecture hall burst into laughter and applause as she wrote what was printed on her shirt in large letters on the board: “Fuck Milk, Got Pot?”

ZENAIDA RIVERA

Window watchers

A late Saturday night had somehow turned into an early Sunday morning and it was past 4:30 a.m. by the time I retreated to my bedroom. Upon changing into pajamas, I heard two girls screaming at each other directly outside my window. Things were heated, and by the time I had scrounged up an oversized T-shirt I heard squeals of “If you don’t think I won’t call 911, I will.” I could not witness this alone.

I went back to my family room and excitedly informed my housemate and our friend that a mud fight a la Celebrity Deathmatch was imminent. They scurried into my room and the three of us crowded my window and relished our front row seats.

My friend was pretty drunk, though, and seemed to think it’d be a good plan to open my window and intermittently shout interjections down to the girls. As he tried opening my window wider, the blinds came crashing down and we were left gawking in my window, utterly exposed.

The girls started directing their anger at us instead, and I awkwardly slammed off the lights, deciding to wait until morning to fix the blinds.

LISA HAIDOSTIAN

The UGLi zoo

It was late Friday afternoon and after finishing up an assignment, I started walking out of a room on the first floor of the UGLi. On my way out, I noticed someone in a gorilla suit sauntering around the bookshelves. Questioning whether I was simply delusional from all the studying, I glanced around the room and noticed that only a few people were paying attention to the ape. Everyone else carried on as normal.

Shaking my head as I entered the library’s lobby, I then saw someone in a Dalmation suit casually checking out Bert’s Café’s display case of pastries, sandwiches and fruit. It’s been a long winter.

BILLY HEISLER

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