Word: bitted
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Here is where a piece jointly written by a male and a female becomes somewhat tricky to navigate. If we seem to imply designs of some weird polygamous tryst, or appear to confuse our own sexualities, please bear with us. This is a bit difficult...
...wearing—was simply breathtaking. It was an intimidating proposition to approach her, but we mustered the courage to initiate conversation. She was a freshman, studying engineering—a model Tuftette. Her smile itself was everything the young night had promised us; her demeanor, though a bit quiet, was charming and kind. It might have been love. If you were waiting for some torrid climax to this story, here...
...Young Men. It’s telling that the names of anti-fascist writers like Ayn Rand and George Orwell are so often invoked. In Tea Party eyes, the problem is simple: the U.S. government won’t leave well alone. All they really want is a bit of land and a house, maybe a firearm or two, and certainly the freedom to do as they like (within legal limits) without any civil servant nosing in. And they’re not willing to take any threats to that sitting down...
...upped by bachelor parties, three players on the men’s team aimed a bit higher. Having set their sights on Vegas’ crown jewel, they waited in an elevator in the Bellagio until they were able to hitch a ride to the 35th floor. From there, they took a service-only elevator to the 36th and finally snuck into a UCSD frisbee party in the Bellagio’s Penthouse Suite...
...first e-recruiting interview was an abject disaster. My interviewer walked out to get me. We shook hands. We exchanged names. He beckoned me to follow him down the hallway to an office. It was a long hallway, and in my nervousness I was swinging my arms perhaps a bit too aggressively. And so then, all of a sudden, it happened: my naked notepad grazed his wrist, delivering a massive and fatal paper cut. As he fell to the floor gushing blood, his last words in this world were to me: “WHY...couldn?...