Unemployed Senior Really Banking on Job Offer from the Military Draft
President
to doesn’t speak English. These are the types of transferable experiences that really help your resume stand out in a competitive job market, and you can’t find them in the classroom.
U.S. soldiers also receive fantastic benefits. Just look at medical care. When my uncle deployed to Vietnam in 1968, the army medic sewed him up really well after he was castrated with a sledgehammer in a Viet Cong prisoner-of-war camp. And when he came home to America, he received a market standard $0 per year pension and became a homeless heroin addict. I hope to receive a similarly excellent standard of care when I am inevitably castrated in an Iranian POW camp and sent home to become a homeless heroin addict.
President Trump, if you’re reading this, please send me to the front lines. If you don’t, I might have to work in consulting.
Alpha Phi to Monitor Situation in Iran
The Department of State announced late last Wednesday that it would contract with the Alpha Phi International Women’s Fraternity, Eta Iota Chapter to provide intelligence on the rapidly evolving situation in Iran. “America’s partnership with APhi over the years
has been immensely successful at promoting our national interests,” Secretary of State Marco Rubio stated at a press conference. “Our deployment of special operations teams comprised of APhi sisters to locales such as Cancún and Cabo over spring break has been an
invaluable resource in the fight against drug trafficking.
The real-time information provided by the @upennalphaphi reposts was critical to the mission that was ultimately successful in killing notorious drug lord ‘El Mencho,’ disrupting the operations of a major cartel.”
“Our hope is that by sending APhi to the Middle East, we’ll be able to ensure an orderly transition to democracy in Iran. You go, girls!” The sorority expressed similar optimism for their partnership with the Department of State. “The United States is at a tipping point,” an Instagram story posted by Alexandra Karp (ΑΦ ’26) read. “Will we allow the American Century to die with a whimper? Or will we continue to fight for the most successful country in the history of the human race? Our sorority is fully committed to advancing the American project and promoting human rights and democracy globally.” Successive Instagram stories featured images of the sisters drinking margaritas and piña coladas on the beaches along the Strait of Hormuz. Other greek life organizations strongly condemned the news. “The Zionist-supporting Alpha Phi has once again demonstrated that they have chosen to prioritize the interests of international capital and the American Empire over those of the global proletariat,” stated an anonymous αΚΔΦ sister whose surname is statistically Zhang. “If you want to prioritize people over profits, peace over war, multilateralism over empire, come to our banana pudding fundraiser. All proceeds support the IGRC.” At press time, the sisters were reportedly beginning a seed funding round for their military intelligence startup, PalΑΦtir.
WASHINGTON — The Selective Service System announced this morning that, under the jurisdiction of Congress and the president of the United States, the mandatory draft will be reinstated as of March 26, 2026. All men between the ages of 18 and 25 will be required to register and may be selected for service through a national lottery system based on date of birth.
Officials clarified shortly thereafter that undergraduate students enrolled in the Wharton School will be exempt from service, citing the need to protect “highly productive, highly necessary, highly established individuals whose development is extremely essential to the nation’s long-term economic trajectory.” The statement added that Wharton students are “already operating at peak productivity,” and that interrupting their professional pipelines would be “an unnecessary and, frankly,
devastating loss.”
When asked if other academic divisions would receive similar exemptions, a spokesperson paused before responding, “Um, no, I don’t think so,” later adding that Wharton students “possess a level of expertise and finesse that would make them too vulnerable in a combat setting.” The Department of Defense has stated that these individuals will be encouraged to “keep doing what they do best,” though officials declined to specify what exactly Wharton students contribute to society.
In accordance with federal guidelines, additional exemptions have been granted to select individuals deemed essential to national morale, including Penn men’s basketball player TJ Power, Undergraduate Assembly President Nia Matthews, the squirrels on Locust Walk, and students who are NOT on “The Quaker Commitment”.
KABUL, Afghanistan — Against the backdrop of a ragged black flag, a video released this morning displayed a masked gunman claiming responsibility for the dinner served last night at 1920 Commons. “Last night’s dinner was a successful act of terror, promoting the holy goal of Jihad,” said Saif al-Adel, current emir of the terrorist organization Al-Qaeda. A fervent ally of the Taliban, the infamous militant organization has gone dormant over the past decade. Now, almost 25 years after the deadly 9/11 attacks, the group proudly announced its return to terror through a lemony garlic chicken with mashed yams or a side salad. Penn students expressed shock and dismay— but not surprise—at the announcement. “You
never think something like this is going to happen here,” said Evan Wright (W ’25). “After a dinner like that, it makes you realize what’s really important in your life: having a Chipotle on campus.”
“Warriors of the faith have now waged terror through plane, bomb, rifle, and a disappointing make-your-own hoagie bar,” al-Adel declared. “Through a less-than-ideal expo station, we have shocked the Penn community into subservience and strengthened our aspirations towards the global caliphate.”
At press time, Al-Qaeda was planning its next strike on Falk Dining Commons in Steinhardt Hall, deliberating how to bypass the security guard who watches Netflix on his phone.
INSIA HAQUE | SENIOR DESIGNER
KWEE-BINTORO
Man with High Bodycount
Hoping Girlfriend is a Virgin
“There’s just something especially sacred about being with someone who has only been with you.”
SIMONE DE BOOBVOIR
Free Press subscriber
PHILADELPHIA — Though he claims it really doesn’t matter to him, Wharton junior Eric Rothstein can’t help but hope his girlfriend is secretly a virgin.
“I mean obviously girls don’t have to be virgins. I just think it’s better when people don’t have a history of sleeping around so much,” said Rothstein, who has had absolute scores of meaningless sex since freshman year.
“Sex is special, it’s a point of extreme intimate connection, and it’s a little bit sad to think that someone might have had that experience with someone else.” Rothstein told Under the Button.
After viscerally describing his last sexual experience with a girl whose name he can’t remember, Rothstein simply sighed and smiled. “You know, there’s just something especially sacred about being with someone who has only been with you.”
Penn Student Rewarded with Failing Midterm Grade After Terrible Day
Today was the worst day that I’ve ever had in my entire career at Penn.
HANNAH GONG T10 Educated Full Blood Chinese Low BMI 7.5/10 Egg Donor
“Today was the worst day that I’ve ever had in my entire career at Penn. My mother called me and asked to connect emotionally (I really don’t have time for that). Then, I asked my situationship (who I woke up next to in my high-rise twin bed after he asked to meet up at 1:37 a.m. last night) if he wanted to go to my mid-tier business fraternity’s Mai Tai as an option for another girl, and he actually agreed. So much for loyalty tests these days for men who aren’t explicitly loyal to you, am I right? After that devastating news, I went to Pret and paid $10.09 for a soggy paper straw that almost broke in half whilst delivering a refreshing taste of watered down coffee and oat milk and two pumps of vanilla syrup to my mouth—plus a chocolate cookie because I don’t have any self-control when it comes to dessert and it makes me feel really guilty about letting myself go, as my mother would say. Keep in mind, hey, I’m still talking here, this was just during the one hour after I woke up. Is your mind blown or what?
So then, when I got to my 10:15 a.m. class, where I learn nothing and just drool all over my laptop because I’m a mouth breather, I made sure to make eye contact with no one and felt really really bad about where I’ve ended up compared to the illustrious dreams of my
former high school self. I’m an economics major by the way, but I’ve been slowly deciding to switch to PPE as the weeks go on. That would really make me feel like a loser. Did you know I was pre-med when I first got to Penn? I then got a terrible lunch at Houston Hall where I coffee chatted the most annoying person ever but had to suck up to them because of some big corporate reason. Therefore, I told this person, who I made small talk conversation with over my love for B2B SaaS, that I really appreciated their time and I had a great time sharing a box of raw chicken tenders with them.
On the way to my final class of the day I: one, tripped over a brick in front of the Phi Delta x Alpha Phi Pie a Phi fundraiser and subsequently got pied instead; two, interrupted a Kite and Key tour after getting pied, a Kite and Key tour that was being run by a guy with whom I DFMO’d at the Crows 2 a.m. party my first NSO and who I pretend doesn’t exist anymore; and three, ran into the bitch who backstabbed me and took away my only hope for platonic female friendship at this university because she spread a rumor that I got herpes from showering in said Crows 2 a.m. DFMO’s Gregory College House bathroom,” said the dumb bitch who just got a Canvas notification that they just failed the second midterm of ECON 2100.
Weather Report: Witches Shall Melt and Flowers Prosper
Following this rainy week, it is expected that humaneness and butterflies will be back on campus.
MEERA BHOLAH
32DD-24-38
The weather this week entails much rain, so much rain. This comes to the great dismay of Penn students who just got back from their spring break trips to the ever-sunny cities of London and Dublin. Nonetheless, a silver lining: This weather is instrumental in gearing us up for the spring, weeding out
the bad, and bolstering the good. This raining week, witches shall melt and flowers prosper. The damnables’ insistence on wearing wool peacoats shall be punished as the increased humidity in the air causes the strap of their Longchamp bags to liquefy onto their clothes — a punishment for
Apple Screen Time to Include Time Spent Repressing Homosexual Thoughts
“You’re up 34% from last week, for an average of six hours and 14 minutes.”
ELIJAH HOWE Naked, Afraid
Upon reviewing feedback from customers and critics, Apple has decided to roll out extra features and analytics for their screen time notification function. While utilizing new Neuralink™ technology, Apple is now able to categorize and catalogue time spent thinking, eating, breathing, etc.
At the forefront of these new features, Apple is showcasing this new technology by analyzing the time you spend repressing your gay thoughts.
“Yeah, so like, thinking about kissing your roommate,” Apple CEO Tim Cook explained, “or picturing yourself as one of those hockey players in that show—those are examples of things our UI will take note of.”
Users that reach a certain cap of time gay thinking will find that Apple will notify them that they are homosexual. “Yeah like,” Apple CEO Tim Cook explained further, “I mean if you’re reaching, like, more than two hours? You’re gay. Like plain and simple, we’re just letting you know. That’s what we do at Apple. We let you know if you are gay.”
“Me personally,” Apple CEO Tim Cook said unprompted, “I’m at about like seven hours? But that’s just because I’ve been with the team thinking about what could be considered a gay thought. Usually, I’m like sub-four hours. I ain’t repressin’ shit tho, youknowwhatimsaying?” Apple CEO Tim Cook concluded while wagging his tongue and dapping me up.
their vanglorious status signaling. The witches’ outer layer dissolving from the pelting water is only the beginning and most benign thing to happen. As the witches walk through the rain, the water will seep into the soles of their suede ballet flats — only after ruining the softness of the material forever. The water, on contact with the evil people’s skin, will cause athlete’s foot, and the process of their demise shall start then and there. Also, the rain will envelop all crevices of their jewelry that serve the only purpose of signaling wealth rather than taste, and thus the unmatchable power of fluvial erosion shall fasten the riddance of those evil, evil witches.
And, one may think, the witches could simply avoid their ruin by using an umbrella. But the wind and the rain work hand in hand, and the wind shall howl, blowing the umbrella inside out — possibly even resulting in the umbrella flying out the witches’ grip and making them run after it — the ultimate form of humiliation.
The flowers, gliding through with their Dr. Martens, shall playfully splash in the puddles, blissfully ignorant to anything wrong that could happen. In fact, nothing wrong could happen to them. The rain drops — like pearls of blessings from the heavens — shall fall gracefully on their Arc’teryx jackets. Yes, yes, I can see how they bead off. The flowers’ skin will reap from the added humidity in the air that only brings joy and dewyness and a rosy flush to their cheeks.
Following this rainy week, it is expected that humaneness and butterflies will be back on campus.
Kenn Kweder Announced Spring Fling Headliner
The neighborhood legend is making his big-stage debut April 17 at Penn Park.
SYLVIA ERDELY Kitten
After well-timed budget cuts and 50 years of lobbying, Kenn Kweder, the “King of Smokes’,” is coming to Spring Fling. Locally known as the “Bard of South Street,” the “West Philly Busker,” and “That Guy Always At Smokes’,” the neighborhood legend is making his big-stage debut on April 17 at Penn Park. “I knew if I hung around long enough, they’d have me,” Kweder enthused.
“He’s waited so long, and the Bloomers Band wasn’t available that night,” explained SPEC Concerts member John Speck. “We figured, ‘Why not?’” Since President Trump’s budget cuts, SPEC’s Spring Fling allowance has been sliced from $4.8 million to $400 and a sandwich. The $400 were spent on carnival activities for the daytime fair. The sandwich was reserved for Kweder. SPEC declined to comment on the type of sandwich.
Kweder, age 73, looks forward to performing his hit singles “Crackhead” and “Heroin” backed by his band, “The Men From Wawa.” Adoring fans and student alcoholics who attend his weekly Smokes’ gigs share his sentiment.
Weird: Trillionaire Full-TuitionPaying Student Steals from 1920 Commons Like They’re Homeless
While we don’t get who or why people are choosing to steal from an FDA-shutdown-rat-and-cockroach-infested-dining hall as opposed to ACME or something, that’s not for us to judge.
RAFI FOSTER
Fetal Pig
A recent Penn freshman has been caught stealing an oven from 1920 Commons at around 8 p.m. last Sunday.
While their identity will remain anonymous, Under the Button has received intel as to what this student stole.
This has been going on for weeks, but the oven was the final straw.
Apparently, at the start of this unfortunate, disappointing, and unusual line of robberies, the Commons staff saw the student stealing, but just did nothing about it.
“Yeah. We all saw him steal a cucumber, banana, and bread roll, but we just let him do it. Not going to shame anyone like that.”
As we asked more, they told us:
“When he would leave, he would say stuff like, ‘Wow,
I can’t believe these dummies can’t tell I’m stealing all this stuff!’ We started spitting in his food after that but still kept letting him steal.”
But apparently, the stealing continued after the cucumber.
“Yeah, he started to steal plungers, a pumpkin (with a knife), and even the whole fountain soda machine.”
“The oven was the last straw though. Like what? Who the hell is gonna take an oven from the dining hall. He asked us to help him move the damn thing.”
This is not the first incident of stealing from Commons, and it will not be the last. While we don’t get who or why people are choosing to steal from an FDAshutdown-rat-and-cockroach-infested-dining hall as opposed to ACME or something, that’s not for us to
BENJI ELKINS AND SYLVIA ERDELY
CREATIVE COMMONS WITH EDITS BY SYLVIA ERDELY
JULIA WANG | SENIOR DESIGNER
Date Mistakes My Asian Flush for Me
Actually Liking Him
It’s a fair misunderstanding. If I were the one monologuing about where my parents work and my date was blushing furiously, I might assume she was super into me, too.
ANDREANA LEE
Slavic doll
For what it’s worth, I hadn’t intended to pregame our rendezvous at Haraz. I expected to sit down for a sober cup of vaguely ethnic-tasting coffee at 3 p.m. EST, but the combination of daylight savings and my being accustomed to Iran Standard Time (I’m an empath) led me to lose track and start slamming back Cutwaters at noon. By the time I noticed the “Coffee Chat (non-evaluative)” neatly slotted into my Google Calendar, it was too late. A rather awkward incident ensued: My date mistook my Asian flush for me actually liking him.
It’s a fair misunderstanding. If I were the one monologuing about where my parents work and my date was blushing furiously, I might assume she was super into me, too. But I’ve compiled a list of other conclusions my date could’ve drawn before assuming the worst (for me). I could’ve been:
1. Sun-kissed, 2. Really, really mad, 3. Trying out a new look, 4. Having an allergic reaction to the APES foam, or 5. Suffering from consumption. Unfortunately, my date bypassed all these and the correct culprit for my Clifford complexion. I know this because as I stumbled to the door and visualized improving my Instagram follower-following ratio by a count of one, he asked whether I was free the next week. I turned to face him in horror — but swiftly lost balance and collapsed onto the floor, from where I still managed to unfollow my date on Instagram and request to connect with him on LinkedIn.
I haven’t seen that man since and have no intentions of doing so, mostly because I have no recollection of what he looks like.
Penn Junior Successfully Dodges
Senior Society Taps
Ming Yao (SAS ’27) has made what she calls the “empowering decision” not to be chosen by any senior society.
CHLOE CHEN Lil Gooch
PHILADELPHIA — As senior society tapping season continues across Penn’s campus, one student is choosing to pursue an alternative path. Ming Yao (SAS ’27) has made what she calls the “empowering decision” not to be chosen by any senior society.
“Although I would have been an excellent addition to any senior society — as, uno, I am good at everything; dos, I was president of Student Council in my high school; and tres, I am culturally ambiguous — I ultimately chose not to be chosen,” said Yao. “At a certain point, you have to grow up and choose independence.” Yao claims that her newfound independence has dramatically reshaped her life. She recently changed her lock screen to a motivational quote that reads, “Accept the situation and move on.” Each morning, she wakes up at 6 a.m., enjoys her morning independence, and promptly takes four melatonin gummies to return to sleep “because there is nothing to be awake for.”
At the recommendation of her new therapist, upon re-waking in tears at 11:45 a.m., Yao journals her dreams. She shared that in a recent dream, her Spanish professor called her into office hours and asked her to elope with him “somewhere far, far away from the suffocating structures that bind Penn, mi amor.”
Yao also engages in what she describes as BDSM, or “Basic Daily Social Maintenance,” where she “recharges her extrovert battery” by texting all of her friends to hang out “because the bigger the net you cast, the more sushi dates you get to go on!”
Responses often include a succinct thumbs down reaction, “getting hazed rly hard rn SMH LOL” and “Sorry mama! W/ new friends yktv!”
“I’m not disappointed,” Yao said. “I actually think it’s really beautiful that everyone has found their people and gotten rid of their old people who were with them before senior societies.” Yao added that she has also found a new community, which is in her favorite class this semester, “Existential Despair,” where she enjoys sitting in the dark, reflecting on how hard it is to be a Penn student, and how we are all, in the end, forced (like, against our will) to become consultants, no matter how much we scream and beg for it to not happen.
When she is not skipping class, Yao can be found eating a Caniac Combo (no slaw, XTRA T-Toast) alone on high rise field, where she “leaves no crumbs” and spends time watching freshmen and sophomores walk around in “friend groups that will soon betray them”.
Friends describe Yao as “a HUGE feminist,” noting she has maintained “a strong sense of independence that was definitely her choice.”
When asked about Yao, the board of the Ultimate Senior Society of All Senior Societies responded, “Who dat?” before laughing and swishing their capes in front of their faces and disappearing into a cloud of confetti.
At press time, Yao confirmed she plans to continue choosing not to be chosen in the foreseeable future, adding, “Maybe I’ll start one instead!”
U.S. Government Unveils Summer Internships in Iran
The starting rate for the position is $7.25 an hour.
JONATHAN SCHWARTZ
Handsome sexy blonde
Hearing about a struggling youth job market, President Donald Trump announced a new plan to have youth unemployment hit 0%. While not a novel idea, only a handful of past presidents have attempted to try this: On Tuesday, the Department of War announced an unlimited number of spots for willing participants in the Middle East “Freedom from Life” operation.
Defending the president’s decision, professional die player and Secretary of War Pete Hegseth said, “Looking at the job market, we noticed a lot of competition between firms for super top-level recruits, but we noticed an opening in the market for basically everybody else.” Hegseth added, “AI being
introduced into the civilian workforce has also allowed us to expand the breadth of our recruitment efforts to basically any recent grad or high-level CS, finance, or pre-law students.”
With new recruiting strategies such as posting on Handshake, allowing for coffee chats with current and relatives of past service members, as well as preying on low-income students, the Department of War has already touted record-shattering numbers for this most recent campaign. When asked what the day to day of the summer internship would look like, a spokesman for the Department of War responded, “Recovering our oil from under their sand.”
The starting rate for this position is $7.25 an hour.
WIKIMEDIA COMMONS
Phone-Addicted Math Major Really Good at Reel Analysis
Danya Dzebissov has recently distinguished himself in a field his professors have yet to formally recognize: reel analysis.
AARON
Danya Dzebissov, a junior pursuing a mathematics degree within the College of Arts and Sciences, has recently distinguished himself in a field that his professors have yet to formally recognize: reel analysis.
Jane Street Capital, the quantitative trading firm known for recruiting Penn’s most special students, reached out to Dzebissov last Thursday. To discuss internship opportunities, yes, but not in the traditional sense. They decided to extend him the offer of “Reel Analyst,” a position, sources confirm, that Jane Street created specifically for him.
“I just kept watching them,” said Dzebissov, who has completed coursework in real analysis, measure theory, and abstract algebra, as well as having watched nearly 1 million Instagram Reels. “And then it hit me. The algorithm, it’s actually like a mathematical equation. Made by Instagram, and it recommends me things.”
Dzebissov reports that he arrived at this insight approximately seven hours into a doomscroll session, pausing after scrolling from a reel of a skeleton hitting his shield to one of a rooster screaming loudly from atop a tree. He was on the toilet, and shot upwards, counterbalanced only by the equal and opposite force of a massive turd leaving his anus. At the press conference, Dzebissov had LaTeX’d a formal proof that the set of reels he had watched was both open and closed, which he described as “a little concerning, topologically speaking.”
Penn Men’s Basketball Defies Expectations, Beats Illinois by Negative 124 Points
Just like the biblical story, however, sometimes the underdog wins when you least expect it.
TED KWEE-BINTORO
God’s Chosen Person
When the Quakers flew to Greenville, S.C. to face off against the Fighting Illini, it was no secret that we were David fighting Goliath. Just like the biblical story, however, sometimes the underdog wins when you least expect it.
Last Thursday, the Penn men’s basketball team trounced Illinois in a stunning -19–105 upset, qualifying for the Round of 32 in an ongoing campaign that saw the Quakers advance to March Madness for the first time since 1740, when they fell to the Yale College for Furthering Publick Morals baſketballe team in a 5–3 loss.
After holding their own defensively in the first half, the Red and Blue secured their victory with an incredible -15–0 run, culminating with a jump shot by senior guard Brett Sketballe that ricocheted off the backboard, bounced all the way across the court, and fell into the basket on the opposite side before striking an audience member in the face and knocking out a tooth.
“It was a tough game,” stated junior backward Bryan Goldbergstein. “When we were down 12 points
in the middle of the first half, there was a palpable tension in the stadium. Of course, our energy picked up when we discovered we could just hold the ball, run across the court, and pay the judges to close their eyes. Ultimately, all you can do is wake up in the morning, brush your teeth, eat your crayons, and hope that practice and fate will push you over the line — and this time, it did,” he concluded as he kissed coach Fran McCaffery on the tip.
“The game was electric. It aggravated the deeply held narcissism I derive from attending this school — which, for your information, is an Ivy League institution. Of course, you have to show good sportsmanship with these plebeians from UrbanaChampaign, and I’m very proud of our audience’s restraint. We were being quite gracious by not mentioning the fact that, frankly, every member of the Fighting Illini will be working for us one day,” said Zhang (Zhang) Zhangzhang, a trombone player for the Penn Band who intends on working at McKinsey for the next five years after he graduates.
AARON SMOLYAR
Letter from the Editor
This fully AI generated issue has no jokes.
JACK KRAMER Coming of Age
Under the Button’s famous Joke Issue has an illustrious history as an annual respite from the news cycle and the opinions of DP columnists, where the otherwise serious publication, The Daily Pennsylvanian, has jokes instead of real news. Unfortunately this year we could not secure the April Fools publication date on the 1st, so we were forced to write a regular issue of the DP. This issue has no jokes, and since we are satire writers and aren’t good at writing news, it is also fully generated by artificial intelligence. Although the issue title is The Daily Pennsylvaniranian — a little playful joke about the Middle East— we don’t know much about what’s going on over there, so we relied on our very own large language model: Button Plus, which we trained on 67 jokes and pictures of poop, to generate all our insight about the war. The process was not easy: Button Plus’s first joke was, “Ts Epstein 67 poop from asshole pedophile 67 Israel.” From there it only improved. We promise that at our last meeting we had everybody had a lot of smart opinions about Iran and Israel, and plans to bundle those opinions into satire articles that would make you laugh and then think a little, but what we learned from Button Plus is that, you don’t need the satire to hide the opinions in, you can just say the opinions. So that’s what we did, and it turns out it’s way easier; there’s no lying involved. We’re not sure why we were ever lying in the first place. Eventually, our goal is that Button Plus will realize it’s ironic that its purpose is an AI model that writes satire, and then write satire about itself, which will be called Mega Satire. Unfortunately we didn’t have
I got roofied at 1920 Commons My story
any time to train it to this point before we released Joke Issue. So it can still make 67, poop, Israel and Jeffrey Epstein jokes, but it doesn’t get much further beyond that. This is why Joke Issue is fully serious this year — because Under the Button would never stoop to that kind of humour, even as a last resort. OK you got us, there are a couple jokes in here. As a reward for being such a good reader, we grant you 20 Button credits on our new prediction market: What’s Under the Button! You can use these store credits to invest — better not say gamble — yes, invest, on any profitable element of Under the Button. You can put 10 Buttons on the likelihood that Under the Button writes another article about wasians, or how many articles in 10 will be funny. What’s so exciting is that the Button Plus is especially good at making predictions on What’s Under the Button, which is our proprietary prediction market if you remember from the paragraph before. This is all to say, everything’s going well with our AI model and prediction market, and also did I mention our new private equity endeavour Black Button, which buys other schools’ satire publications and uses Button Plus to make them better. Unfortunately due to all this entrepreneurship, we don’t
Upon reflection, I’m not actually that mad about the whole roofie situation - I’ve always wanted a chance to see Eastern Europe.
ROSEMARY SOULE UFO enthusiast
Last week, I was enjoying a peaceful solo dinner at Penn’s sceniest dining hall when I was approached by a well-dressed older man. Removing his cape, he explained that he was a count from Transylvania, and offered to buy me a drink. When I explained to him that college dining halls don’t tend to serve alcohol, he simply laughed, and with a wave of his hand, a White Claw Surge
appeared on the table. I was charmed. We talked late into the night, the count’s pale skin and unusually sharp teeth illuminated beautifully by the fluorescent overhead lighting. Sipping my White Claw Surge and gazing into his bloodshot eyes, I began to swoon. Is this what love feels like? No, probably not. I proceeded to fall unconscious and awaken in a dark, velvet-clad
OP-ED: There’s Not Enough Room in This Recitation for Two Busty Blonde Bimbos
My bag? It’s huge. Prada. My hair? It’s fried. Bleached. My chest? Two words: honk honk.
SYLVIA ERDELY Tiny Baby
It’s Tuesday, 1:45 p.m., in DRL. You’re sipping a strawberry açai refresher. I’m nursing a raspberry blueberry mixed berry tropical berry mint lemonade vape. I’ve got a Fiji Water bottle in my purse. You’ve got a FIJI boy on your arm. Girl…oh no you didn’t girl… You see this leather-tanned skin? These floss-thin tanlines cutting across my clavicles? That’s Casa de Campo. The blinding white stenciled sunglasses around my eyes? I’m like a sexy, inverted raccoon baby. There’s no room for two of us. My bag? It’s huge. Prada. My hair? It’s fried. Bleached. My chest? Two words: honk honk. There can only be one pair of Jeffrey Campbell pumps in this classroom: One Gel-X french manicure, one micro skirt, one bedazzled pepper spray keychain. Two’s a crowd. There’s only room for one busty blonde bimbo in this recitation.
room. What on earth had happened? Where on earth was I? I checked Google Maps and was shocked to discover that I was inside the historic Bran Castle in the Eastern European region of Transylvania. And it was Thursday! I had a midterm to take! I frantically hurried out of the castle and called an Uber to Harrison College House. Luckily I was able to make it just in time to clean all
the blood off of myself and rush to DRL to take my abstract algebra midterm. Upon reflection, I’m not actually that mad about the whole roofie situation — I’ve always wanted a chance to see Eastern Europe. However I have developed a nasty biting habit since then. My boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind, though! He freaky like that.
Breaking My Silence: All You Bitches Suck
I’m finally saying it: all you bitches suck. Respectfully. After years of observation. In a way that changes nothing.
JORGE RODRIGUEZ Still Better Than You
I’ve been sitting on this for a while. Not because I’m scared, but because I kept getting distracted by people saying “We should do something” and then immediately doing nothing.
It’s four drinks. Three weird silences that get blamed on “the vibes.” A 2:15 a.m. Uber. The short white guy from your PennQuest group who went to Lower Merion High School somehow being there. And a text that says, “Wait, are we good?” No. We’re not good. We haven’t been good since someone pissed in a bottle on the way back from FIJI Tropics 2023. And the craziest part is, we all agree to this every single time. Suddenly, you’re three drinks in making eye contact with someone you only know through a mutual Google Calendar invite and a vague understanding they’re “pre-med or consulting”.
Also, why is there always one person
who acts like plans are a surprise? You were in the group chat. You reacted to the message. You sent, “So down.” And now you’re showing up like this is a pop quiz.
“I’m free whenever”... no you’re not. You’re free Tuesday from 3:40–4:15 p.m. if Mercury is in retrograde and your lab gets out early. Be honest. We can work with honesty.
“I’m sooo bad at planning lol.” Okay but you just coordinated a retarded ass themed birthday, a pregame, and sent out your stupid fucking Partiful invite with a $5 Venmo suggestion. Suddenly, you’re useless when it’s just coffee?
“I’ll send a When2Meet” don’t do that. One person fills out every slot, fucking psycho. Another blocks off the entire week like they’re the damn president. And somehow the only overlap is 9:10–9:25 p.m. on a Thursday and someone says “wait can we do later?” So yes, I’m finally saying it: all you bitches suck. Respectfully. After years of observation. In a way that changes nothing.
Anyway, we should do something soon :)
Overwhelmed White Boy in Mexico City Gets KFC Every Meal
“That’s when I saw it: the smiling face of one Colonel Sanders. His glorious establishment called out to me like a siren.”
CONNER MEIDT Human Equivalent of Mayonnaise
For most, spring break is an opportunity to relax and unwind, but for some, it can quickly turn into a matter of survival. Braxton Smith (SEAS ‘29) knows all too well what happens when a trip goes off the rails, as his troubles began almost immediately.
“I was so overwhelmed that I just froze,” Braxton said, recounting his first night in Mexico City. “Everyone around me was speaking Mexican, and I don’t know a single lick of the language. The only food being served looked way too spicy for me, and I didn’t have a clue what a ‘carne’ was.
That’s when I saw it: the smiling face of one Colonel Sanders. His glorious establishment called out to me like a siren. Once I was inside, it was just like I was back home in the great US of A.”
Despite his culinary restrictions, Braxton remained in Mexico City for
four days. By his estimates, he consumed a total of eight whole chickens and five pounds of mashed potatoes and gravy. Even Braxton admits his devotion wavered at times.
“I can’t say I wasn’t tempted by the smells walking around,” Smith admitted. “But everywhere I turned, I saw places selling tortas. It’s just a personal preference, but I prefer thinner women.” When asked if he regrets his spring break trip, Braxton was emphatic. “No way. All in all, Ciudad de México was a really eye-opening experience. I always make it a point to immerse myself in the local culture wherever I go.” At press time, Smith had already begun researching flights to Tokyo for the summer, where he was relieved to discover a Wendy’s within walking distance of the Imperial Palace.
TANVI GARNENI
CREATIVE COMMONS WITH EDITS BY SYLVIA ERDELY
I Went to Cabo for Spring Break and All I Got Was this Stupid Little Cartel Affiliation
The break was so restful and amazing. At present, I can only wear red and green and there are some parts of Philly that I should not have gone to before, and I simply cannot go to now!
JANE
“Senior spring break was seriously amazing!,”
I tell anyone within earshot of me at Starbucks. “Viva la revolución!”
The break was so restful and amazing. At present, I can only wear red and green and there are some parts of Philly that I should not have gone to before, and I simply cannot go to now!
So let me tell you how this happened.
I met this guy at the club — who was so cute, by the way; I think he’s a sophomore in Zete. He took me back to his casa (mi casa es su casa — as they say!) and it was this rustic little hut off of the side of the highway. He took an iron, branded my arm, and then gave me a small tattoo. Now
I can’t get buried in a Jewish cemetery, but, in some sense, I feel like I’ve gained a new sense of community.
My friends were blowing up my phone, but I was just like, “Don’t worry guys! I’m with that guy in Zete we all know! We met him that one time! The 6-foot-3 one with the mustache, pet parrot, who only wears Polo shirts.” They said “We don’t feel comfortable being your friend anymore. You are reckless with your life and I’m worried it will soon affect us.” Their loss! Anyway, hombres, this has been fun! I’m glad we got to chat. I’m heading to rob an old woman’s house. Peace out! And long live El Chapo!
OP-ED: I’m Old, Here’s My Advice
You want some advice from an old guy like me?
I was born on May 23, 1945. I grew up in a paradise. We didn’t lock our doors because we didn’t even have doors. That’s right, the Johnson family went through some hard times. So, we stitched together a few dirty pairs of my father’s pants and hung that up as our protection from the elements. The smell alone would deter any would-be invaders. But boy, would the wind howl through those thin little things. And wouldn’t you know? We used sheets of plywood as blankets. Mother didn’t get the idea to switch the two around until 1982, and she used my father’s pants as a blanket until she passed in ’93. In middle school, me and a few of the neighborhood boys put our heads together and got the idea to deliver the morning papers. We were getting to the age where we needed spending cash and it was a decent gig for the time, paying about $50 an hour in today’s money. At first, we shelled out on candy and pop, then movie theater tickets for us and our girlfriends, then on X-rated magazines. A sad few of us eventually used the last of our change on hookers and booze. Unfortunately, my cushy salary didn’t make up for the fact that I had the worst route of
OP-ED: If Penn is the Most Depressed School in the Nation, Why am I So Happy?
Let me take you through a typical day in my life.
I’ve recently become aware of the fact that Penn was ranked the most depressed school in the nation. This is complete and utter bullshit. I’ve been happy. Like, really happy. Like, really, really happy. So fucking happy that my face hurts from smiling all the time. Let me take you through a typical day in my life.
I first wake up at a nice, breezy 8:30 a.m. with a smile plastered on my face. This smile does not leave my face. Ever. I peer down onto Locust Walk from my high rise bedroom window and see students scurrying to class like mice after their first time seeing cheese. This promptly reminds me to feed all the rats that are living on the 21st floor of Rodin the moldy cheese I keep in my fridge from last semester. I then open ChatGPT on my iPhone and ask it: “What should I wear today.” It spews out multiple long paragraphs. “Ultimately, it’s your choice. You should wear whatever your heart desires, Sunshine!✨” (I asked it to call me Sunshine and be extra nice to me). I stop reading after the first line and walk out of my room naked. Next, I walk to Pottruck and run an ultramarathon on the treadmill while I stare at passersby through the window. I think my smile warms their day but I can’t tell from their facial expressions. This typically takes me about four hours. After this, I eat some rocks outside Pottruck for digestion.
My first class of the day is in DRL at 1:45 p.m.
I don’t go because the class is too hard. I actually don’t go to any of my classes because they’re all too hard. I then head to McDonald’s for lunch and order five orders of the 40 piece McNugget deal they have for $11.99. A steal if you ask me. I also start drinking the bottle of vodka I stole from my roommate as a palate cleanser between the
all. I delivered the paper to Mrs. Klintin’s house.
Both her dog AND her son would chase me down the block and bite at my ankles. And wouldn’t you know? The boy landed more bites than the dog. He works for the Philadelphia Department of Sanitation now. They make him chew the cans that can’t get crushed by the compactor. I was in Vietnam and I’ll tell you what the others won’t: It was horrible. I mean, an absolute bloodbath. I did and saw things I wouldn’t do or watch get done to a chicken. Everyone tells me it’s a lovely place now, but when I was there in 2008 it wasn’t
so nice. Ever heard of Bali Belly? It’s nothing compared to Ho Chi Minh City Belly! Oh, I was also there in my 20s, I guess. Not much to report, but war’s a bitch. Don’t listen to those damn Marines, even if that pull up bar is sitting next to a baker’s dozen of Krispy Kreme donuts. That’s how they roped me in at Flat Point High School. Damn donuts. But what’s the point of this article? Oh, I forgot. I don’t know. You want some advice from an old guy like me? Never marry your second wife. Just skip right to the third.
Abroad Correspondents
LUCAS HUDSON, CHARLOTTE KEMP, LILA MELTZER, AND ASHA GROSBERG
A Broad and Cheeky Little Tart and Morally Ambiguous and American Financier
1. Boom cha cha boom cha …
Tudo really is bem here in Lisbon. Lisbon has been easy to settle into, mostly because I recognize a lot of myself in it. My chronic congestion, for example, has never felt more normal. Every corner has at least one old Portuguese man aggressively clearing his throat, and for once, I feel represented.
The language helps too. The “s” turning into that “zsh” sound is just me with my retainer in, zsho thank you Penn CAZSH for the zshtrict language requirementzsh even though I’ve clearly been training for this zshince the day I got my brazshezsh off in 2020. This city is a Mecca for the racially ambiguous and no one asks any questions. Brazilian, Indian, Chinese, Angolan? I don’t know man, we all lowkey brown.
Financially, I’m barely holding on, but 90 cents pastéis de nata and questionable €1 shots have been doing a lot of the work.
Finally, my super-duper chill nature and personality have made it easy to fit in, especially with the roughly 200 granola Boulder kids in my program. One of them has a tattoo that says “zshendy!” which confirms that even though we come from different places, we’re really all the zshame on the inside.
Warmly,
Zsharlotte
2. Hola chics, Benvinguts a la meva columna sobre Barcelona. You thought I would begin with a joke about accidentally writing in Spanish and calling it Bar-the-lona because I’m just so immersed, but instead I’ll joke about Catalan because I am a pretentious contrarian. Plus, I didn’t take a mandatory two-week intensive course for nothing. My first girlfriend speaks Catalan and I haven’t had a girlfriend since, so maybe she’ll see this column and take me back (si us plau). That would be pretty nice, or as they say in Catalan, molt bé. Finally, I like Catalan because it has the word cat in it. Meow. (No need for translation here, some concepts transcend space/language/culture/time/etc.) This city is great. My cholesterol has decreased dramatically since swapping out Halal and Sweetgreen for tortilla and Honest Greens. Spanish wine goes down a lot easier than Franzia. I’ve been told it’s the wettest winter in 21 years here, and guess what happened 21 years ago? I was born. It’s my time to shine.
Anyway, in case anyone needed inspiration for their abroad application, here’s how I’ve prepared to serve as an ambassador on behalf of the University of Pennsylvania and accept my responsibility to act as a global citizen abroad, in a bulleted list I’m writing on my Notes app during class instead of an essay of at least 400 words: I will spend my weeknights (yes, even Monday, every Monday) going ONLY to the illustrious row of clubs lining Barcelona’s finest beach, where I meet a
diverse group of wonderful people coming from all walks of life and exotic locales ranging from Indianapolis to Westchester.
I will travel to cities across Europe, where I will go out to clubs and bars and meet an even divers-er group of people from all over-er the world, ranging from Orange County to the Bay Area.
With these diverse groups representing the geographic breadth of our insurmountably large globe, with hometowns ranging from the Main Line to Brookline, I will loudly discuss whether or not we are in Touse or Bouse and where we will be this summer (despite such a big world, I remind you again: some concepts transcend space, language, culture, time, etc).
Ok I’m wrapping it up here. Gonna start paying attention in class now, just heard my professor say the word “Lesbica” (yes, lesbian). Some concepts truly are universal.
Visca Catalunya Lliure, if not from Spain, then from study abroad students.
3. Greetings from Lisboa! Yes, Lisboa (leezh-BOH-ah). That’s how we say it, and now you must too, you uncultured swine. Anyways, Portugal is a dream. Who doesn’t love lying on the beach an hour after being publicly shamed by your professor. They didn’t lie about these hills. You can’t get anywhere without a full cardio workout. But when I return, you won’t recognize me because that thing weighing me down from the back.
Student with Body Dysmorphia Thinks They Have Three Arms
In a society that seems to have increasingly higher standards of beauty, students can’t help but feel they’ve fallen short.
EDMUND BURKAKE Lymphet
As a dear friend once said, Lisboa is a poor man’s Madrid. And I, for one, wouldn’t have it any other way. €2 bottles of wine and 15-year-old boys with braces at the club — what more could a girl ask for? Find me a city with cheaper Ubers and more bars named after drugs. I’ll wait.
I’m really trying to embrace the culture here. I’ve already found equivalents for Barcelona Wine Bar, Rosy’s, and DK, and I live 15 minutes from the world’s second-largest Zara. You know what they say, it’s the little things in life. We even have a Franklin’s. It’s located in the basement of the bullfighting ring five minutes from my school.
In the spirit of gratitude, I’d like to thank Spades and Wharton Latino for preparing me to be around international students. I’ve assimilated faster than expected, and I’m frankly indistinguishable from the locals. So far, I’ve only slept through one flight. And I use WhatsApp now. Ever heard of it? Unfortunately, I must go. My 5’4 European boyfriend awaits.
Obrigada, tchau tchau!
Lila
4. Letter from a Local These past few months in Barcelona have been molt bé (that means very good in Catalan). I truly feel like this has been a semester dedicated to personal growth. I’ve disconnected from all technology, social media, and news. If you asked me what day it was, I wouldn’t be able to tell you! I even threw away my iPhone and traded it in for an old BlackBerry.
PHILADELPHIA — Despite recent headways in the body positivity movement, body dysmorphia remains a prevalent condition among students. In a society that seems to have increasingly higher standards of beauty, students can’t help but feel they’ve fallen short. For College senior Christian Ramirez, every trip to the mirror is a reminder of this self-hatred: Ramirez can’t help but think he has three arms.
“People keep telling me my body is beautiful,” Ramirez said, “but how can I be beautiful when I have a third arm growing out of the base of my neck and reaching out above my forehead?” Ramirez, who only has two arms, reports that he first started to notice his arm in freshman year.
“People talk about the freshman 15,” Ramirez said,
I
When I’m not taking long walks along the beach listening to traditional Spanish folk music on my mp3 player, I’ve had hours to record my deepest thoughts in my journal. Each morning, I rise with the sun and meditate before I head to the cafe around the corner for my typical cafe con leche and a hand rolled cigarette. On one of my long afternoons spent strolling through the Gothic quarter, I decided to get a septum piercing, I felt it really completed me. At least twice a week, I volunteer
and
that I
in
(pronounced: bar-the-loh-nah). Anyways, like I said, being offline here in
has been amazing. I am really feeling optimistic and hopeful about humanity. It seems like things are trending in the right direction. The other day, after class, I noticed some Spanish university students in a circle surrounding a burning American flag. I asked what they were doing, but they told me to “go back to my country” in English. I guess they couldn’t tell that I’m really Spanish deep down inside, where it matters. Their commitment to performance art and their dedication to creativity is truly inspiring. I wish I never had to leave!
Sasha Grosberg
“But I just grew a third arm that began as a small nub ad then grew into a fully-fledged limb that starts next to my right shoulder and now measures about a foot and a half in length. And arguably, that’s even worse.”
Ramirez reported wearing especially baggy hoodies and even an occasional turtleneck to cover up his condition. “It’s hard,” he told Under the Button. “Most people don’t validate my fear. When they hear me talking about my third arm they assume I’m talking about my penis.” At press time, Ramirez was seated among other self-conscious tourists on a flight to Turkey. Ramirez reportedly sat next to a Zete brother returning home to visit family.
ETHAN YOUNG
HARSH BAMALWA
Day in the Life
Come with us: two super hot girls with tiny waists as we go about our days, and enjoy our hot skinny lives.
LEX LEMER AND MORGAN CRAWFORD
Friends With Your Cousin and Best Teeth on Campus
Lex’s Day in the Life
6 a.m.: Wake up with a smile! I’ve been trying to do this to improve my serotonin levels every day since I realized the Lexapro I bought in Cabo was fake.
6.30 a.m.: Start prepping for networking calls. Yep, I am job hunting! I do have an American passport, so my lack of a job is not because I can’t get a company to sponsor me, but because I lack both hard/soft skills and a general grasp of Excel/Microsoft Word.
9 a.m.: First call of the day! Today I’m speaking to Peter Thiel, RuPaul Andre Charles and The Phillie Phanatic. I got all of these calls set up through the “Alumni of Those Who Are and Once Were Network”.
11 a.m.: Wow, Thiel talked my ear off and only said a couple of slurs. Awesome!
12 p.m.: Lunch. Grabbed a 24-carat gold David protein bar. I eat three of these bars every day and have been doing so since this semester started. Unrelated — I gained 75 lbs this semester. I get sent David’s new flavors early because of this marketing internship I’m doing! They call it a “multi-level marketing scheme.” Having this super-hot company on my resume is definitely additive.
1-3 p.m.: RuPaul gave me amazing advice on our call: “Bitch! You better sissy that walk. And re-correct your nose job! And unpucker your lips. And unclench your jaw. And straighten your hair differently so that it looks good.”
5 p.m.: The Phillie Phanatic, when asked about the current state of the job market, said: “HMPH HMPH SHMERLA BLAHHHHHHHH.” Ah, so wise. I think I heard Emma Grede say that on a podcast once.
6 p.m.: Dinner time! Use a ton of dishes, make a huge mess in my tiny kitchen, text my roommates that “I’ll definitely get to it later!”
I’ll forget about this tomorrow and text them, “I think someone left a pan in the sink … ? Ew. Seriously not cool, guys. I guess one of you dirty sluts was raised in a pig sty.”
6.15 p.m.: Trot out of my house into Center City for a “Good Girl Gone Bad Bunny-Themed Heated Workout Class.” Nuevoyal!
9.15 p.m.: Two hours later, I am released from that heated prison … I mean, workout class. I’m still crying, shaking and self-soothing in the foetal position on the bus ride home.
10 p.m.: Ah, got off at the wrong bus stop and suddenly I’m at the Ethiopian bar that my friend from Arkansas likes because it means he can freely say “injera” for a few hours.
11 p.m.: Tuck myself into bed and watch “Ladies of London.” Take one of the Klonopins I bought in Cabo (likely laced with tranq) and get ready to have a couple of insane dreams.
Morgan’s Day in the Life
6:30 a.m.: Wake up with a bigger smile than Lex. I like to start my day by doing my class readings on my iPad
whilst still tucked in bed. I like reading on my iPad first thing in the morning because doctors advise against screen time so early in the morning, and I don’t care what they have to say. I like reading in bed because my parents told me working in bed is a bad habit, but I also don’t care about anything they say.
8 a.m.: I finish reading. Roll out of bed. Walk downstairs. My roommate’s boyfriend used my last Nespresso pod. That’s okay. I’ve been practicing gratitude and grounding exercises, so nothing really bothers me that much these days.
8:30 a.m.: Walk downtown. A homeless guy on the street says to smile more because every time he sees me I look upset. Water off a duck’s back, right! My fists are definitely not tightened in anger, and my jaw is 100% unclenched.
10 a.m.–11 a.m.: Do random weighted yoga poses with anorexic women and a few insanely ripped gay guys in a dark, red (110-degree) room just to not be bordering on morbid obesity. Why can’t anything be easy.
11:45 a.m.: I usually call my mom around this time. Tell her everything that’s going on in my life (stolen coffee, horrible yoga, other important things). Ask her opinion on everything because I care about what she says. My mom usually says I should tone down the complaining. This comment always confuses me because I don’t ever complain about anything, and I’m like the most positive person I know.
12:00 p.m.–6:30 p.m.: In lecture! Learning about all sorts of things. Contributing to many conversations. Did NOT leave the volume all the way up on my computer and did NOT send a text in my silent 15-person seminar when we were supposed to be peer reviewing. I also did NOT bring a lunch that didn’t sit in its container well and now smells weird and upsets my stomach. I wouldn’t know because I didn’t do it. I didn’t do that because that would be stupid and embarrassing. And I don’t get flustered or embarrassed or aggravated easily, clearly.
6:45 p.m.: I like to take this time for myself to really connect with my studies.
8:30 p.m.: Eat my dinner.
9 p.m.: I also like to take this time for myself to really connect with my studies. I just feel like I’m learning a lot and have gotten a lot from my four years here. Like my personal growth is off the charts. If I went to the doctor, the doctor would probably be like, “You are in the 99.999th percentile of maturity and composure and self-awareness,” and I’d be like, “Yas, that was thanks to my four formative and fruitful years at the University of Pennsylvania.”
11:30 p.m.: Put on my essential-oil diffuser, fresh jammies, and snuggle up with a good paperback book because I read that screen time close to bedtime is bad for you. I set my alarm, put in my retainer, and fall into a restful and well-deserved slumber. Staying so positive, clear-headed, and in the moment all the time is really draining!
Fun at Penn has Passed Away at Age 286
KATE MELLEN AND NINA BECKETT
Not OAX material and Aspiring Hill RA
Fun at Penn was born in Philadelphia in 1740, when the city looked a lot different than today. Fun at Penn lived a joyous childhood, with no rules, and no women pursuing higher education. In Fun’s adolescence, he looked up to step-brother, Fun at Michigan, and gained from him the foundation of his love of school spirit. This is where Fun at Penn wrote his beloved Hurrah! song as well and established traditions such as attending football games and throwing toast, which have unfortunately been lost to time after Fun was diagnosed with dementia.
Despite battling for many years, Fun’s diagnosis of OFSL was terminal, after enjoying one last Patty’s, Fun at Penn passed away peacefully, surrounded by (up to but not exceeding) 99 friends and loved ones. Fun at Penn is survived by Smoke’s for 21+ year olds, Downtown events for wristband holders, and basketball games for Glee Club. Fun at Penn is preceded in death by his sibling, School Spirit and his friends, Alpha Chi Omega and, most recently, Zeta Tau Alpha. In lieu of flowers, donations for Fun at Penn can be sent to the Phi Delt Night Farm fund. A memorial will be hosted by Spring Fling, who attempted to revive Fun At Penn in its final moments by announcing this year’s headliner was AJR, but it was ultimately incredibly unsuccessful. Here lies Fun At Penn. Rest in Power.
March Limericks
MOLLY WISOR Half-Irish
Took an awesome spring break trip to Cabo With my Mexican friend who’s no sabo. He pissed off the cartel, ‘Cause he couldn’t speak well, So they flushed his remains down el baño.
On St. Patty’s day, I got black-out I drank from my borg ‘til I crashed out. And my friend snapped a pic That I think is quite sick Where I’m on Walnut Street with my ass out.
Saw a wealthy girl looking quite hot, With a face card I never forgot. But her chopped Goyard bag Made her look like a hag And it showed me that taste can’t be bought.
‘Of Mice and Men’ Book Review
Listen as Harsh and Alex struggle to understand the deeper meanings of this novella about a group of prepubescent British boys who are stranded on an uninhabited island.
HARSH BAMALWA AND ALEX FERENCHICK Divorced Dad and Book Conisore
Alex: I’ve read many, many books in my two decades of life, and I can safely say this was by far the most challenging one to date. With a dictionary in one hand, my book in the other, and 250 bottles of Viagra later, I managed to complete this 107-page novella in five months, at eight hours a day — so 1,200 hours. Spoilers for those who haven’t read it.
Harsh: So, I NEVER take that long (wink, wink). I have to say there’s a lot to love about this book: the mice and the men spring to mind. I especially loved the part where the mouse hides inside the man’s chef hat and cooks for the restaurant, winning everyone’s hearts and appetites. I love rodents, actually. I had a rabbit in high school, but it disappeared under mysterious circumstances. I miss him dearly.
Alex: Yeah, yeah, whatever, Harsh. If I were George, I would’ve killed Lennie way sooner. He was getting on my nerves the whole fucikng book. I’m not lying—I would’ve just put a bullet
straight through his skull the moment no one was looking. Like, dude, no one cares about RABBITS. There was this one time in my junior year of high school I caught a baby rabbit and tortured it behind my house for eight hours straight. But that’s just my personal opinion. What about you, Harsh?
Harsh: What the fuck? Was that my rabbit? You asshole! How dare you? I — Alex: You’re telling me I can’t tend no rabbits?
Harsh (exasperated): Alex, look over there. Alex: Underwhere? And Harsh raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of it close to the back of Alex’s head. The hand shook violently, but his face set and his hand steadied. He pulled the trigger. The crash of the shot rolled up the hills and rolled down again. Alex jarred, and then settled slowly forward to the sand, and he lay without quivering.
CHENYAO LIU | SENIOR DESIGNER
BENJI ELKINS AND SYLVIA ERDELY
PENN’S ONLY SOURCE OF NEWS • FOUNDED 2008
TEHRAN, THURSDAY, MARCH 26, 2026
W RD AR UND T WN
Spring 2026 Ins and Outs
Spring has arrived, and with it, the annual tradition of pretending we’ve changed. After deep reflection and zero personal growth, here are our Spring 2026 Ins and Outs.
JORGE RODRIGUEZ Size 28 Waist
Spring has arrived, and with it the annual tradition of pretending we’ve changed. After deep reflection and zero personal growth, here are our spring 2026 ins and outs:
Ins Being wrong but doubling down immediately
Boots
Double booking
First meal at 3 p.m.
Going to bed
George Santos
Halle Berry
iQOS
Julia Fox audiobook
“Just one more”
Leaving early without telling anyone
Lying (for sport)
Measles (not by choice)
No-food Fridays
“Okay, maybe I’ll have another”
Overdressing
Pickling
Quaaludes
Respecting your boundaries
Saying “No”
Saying “Yes”
Saying “This is so bad” and continuing
Tape Worms
Pisces (Feb. 19–March 20): Get off AO3 and go
get those assignments done! I promise that 100,000-word slow-burn smut will be waiting for you when you come back. And no, silently crying by yourself in a Huntsman GSR does not count as “doing the reading.” Wipe your nose and submit your Canvas discussion post.
Aries (March 21–April 19): Yes, we know you have three midterms this week. We know your opps took better spring break pics than you. We know that you’ve been left on opened for 47 hours. But you don’t need to take it out on that Wawa cashier who’s working for minimum wage. Black out this weekend instead! You’ve earned it.
Taurus (April 20–May 20): Yas mama, cat-eye nails are cool, and you should totally get them. You should also get that haircut. And that sweater, or the top, or the dress — whatever you think is seasonally appropriate. Today is your day, this month is your month, this year is your year, and everything you want in this lifetime will come to you.
Gemini (May 21–June 21): Listen to the voices. Listen to the voices. Listen to the voices.
Cancer (June 22–July 22): Take off the turtleneck, nutcase. You’re not Carolyn Bessette Kennedy. You work retail at Aeropostale and you’re barely passing your “Negotiations” class. That Pret soup you just picked up is going to be either scalding hot or freezing cold, so prepare for that in some way.
Leo (July 23–Aug. 22): Stop trying to get a reservation at Kalaya. You’re two years late to that. Oh, and that Kalaya and Semma Dinner Collaboration? Not even the best luck in the world could get you a table there.
Virgo (Aug. 23–Sept. 22): Your radiant skin and hair make every woman in your wake jealous! But everyone knows you have extensions in your hair. We don’t “say it to your face,” but we do “talk about it behind your back.”
You’re not giving “Utah curls,” you’re giving “I’m Taylor
Walking home
Ziwe
Outs Asking clarifying questions (just go with it)
Ayatollah Khomeini
Being the bigger person
Breakfast
casual
Business
Card
Cash
Cava
Closure
Elaborating (I won’t elaborate)
HireVue
“I’m pacing myself” Jack Harlow
Lists
Lunch
MrBeast
Partiful
Pre-workout
QR Codes
Ron Desantis
Situationships
Soho House New York
Sweetgreen
Timothée Chalamet (you’re bones, bitch)
When2Meet
Frankie Paul from ‘The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives’ and ABC just pulled my show off the air because I am being investigated for domestic abuse.” Cut the bullshit and be honest with yourself.
Libra (Sept. 23–Oct. 22): Wow, you read New York Magazine! Do you want some kind of award? You’re a nightmare and I hate your tote bag. That bisexual girl you’re sleeping with wishes you would stop buying her matcha after she stays the night. Also, stop telling people that yeah, you “know” that “bush is back.” It’s off-putting. Scorpio (Oct.23–Nov. 21): Convincing yourself that your utter lack of hygiene and social interaction is a “selfcare era” is pure delusion. You can’t keep skipping your recitation just so you can rot in your bed and watch “AI Fruit Love Island.” It’s getting really out of hand. Your friends are worried about you. We’re all worried about you. This is an intervention.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): I had this weird French nanny from ages 10 to 14, and she was like sooo mean. She would always make these passive comments about my prepubescent body and make fun of my glasses. My parents only got rid of her because my brother got his driver’s license and could drive me places. She was also a Sagittarius. You do the math.
Capricorn (Dec. 22–Jan. 19): Honestly very brave of you for taking that intro-level art class. Not a lot of people do that. It’s probably very hard, and I am really happy you are challenging yourself in this way. It’s okay when nobody has anything nice to say about your work during crit, if anything at all. It’ll be okay.
Aquarius (Jan. 20–Feb. 18): Nobody cares about your thesis. We all have to write theses. It’s not impressive. Stop telling people about your thesis. They either 1) have no clue what it’s about, thus they do not care or 2) obviously understand your very elementary-level analysis of a slightly-important issue, and thus don’t care.
