November 19, 2013 by 34th Street Magazine

NOVEMBER 19, 2013

SUP IOR SEN

SHOUTOU

ERLA

TIVE

34ST.COM

34ST.COM NOVEMBER 19, 2013

november 21 3 EGO

2013

ego of the week, penn things you should be thankful for

LOL

5 MUSIC

music fan stereotypes, album reviews, guilty pleasure, sex music

8 FILM & TV

netflix pick of the week, trailer of the week, thanksgiving guide to film, review

11 SUPERLATIVES LOL

you voted—here are the results

15 FOOD & DRINK

blind date, turkey legs how–to, thanksgiving leftovers

18 ARTS LOL

LOL

artist profile, dispatch: museum without walls, diy

20 LOWBROW

FROMtheEDITOR

SO LONG, FAREWELL

Monday, September 6, 2010: that was the day I came to Street. Actually, I inched up to a table on Locust Walk as if approaching the New York Times Building and inscribed my name on an empty slot hoping that one day, that slot would become the signature at the bottom of this very page This is my final 34th Street as its Editor–in–Chief. I am going to turn twenty–two in two weeks. Tuesday night, I sat down with a friend to plan our last birthdays (we share one) at Penn—an MGMT show for old times' sake or an incredibly quiet late night dinner party to pregame an extremely loud night at Voyeur. We ended up talking about our lives since high school, how it feels to hate that someone ruined your life and how it sucks to wake up and realize you might have ruined someone else’s. How demoralizing sex can be and how much we need it, too. Losing our virginities

(pg. 5). Falling in love with our best friends. Going home for Thanksgiving. Avoiding Thanksgiving (pg. 10). A lot has happened in the three years since I co–wrote a review of Dim Sum Garden for Food & Drink, but as I write tonight, it’s incredible to think how not–grown–up I feel. I’ve been trying to get away from Penn—to see best friends at Yale, Georgetown, to hit Manhattan—every weekend this fall and haven’t found a reason to leave. This morning, I felt I had to get away. I ran 4.5 miles northbound, my heart and stomach in an intricate knot that only country music has the ability to induce. When I hit Columbia Bridge, I turned around and nearly sprinted back. 890 Shoutouts, 25 amazing editors and one hilariously unclean office were waiting and for one last night, they were mine.

No Writers' Meeting tonight.

Go forth, read shoutouts and be merry, children.

shoutouts, fools

24 BACKPAGE

shoutouts by the numbers

Check back after Thanksgiving break for a special surprise. ManEd, out. 34TH STREET MAGAZINE Nina Wolpow, In the Crows' Nest of a Yacht Sam Brodey, Father's Day Hallmark Aisle Alex Hosenball, Backstage at "Barrio," Filipino Cultural Show Chloe Bower, In a Tub of Cottage Cheese Sarah Tse, Azkaban Olivia Fingerhood, Marin County Dog Park Margot Halpern, 2 Chainz Dressing Room Zacchiaus McKee, Grandma's Sweatshirt Closet Alex Sternlicht, Rumor Dance Floor Faryn Pearl, Porn Set Mariam Mahbob, Penn Bookstore 2

Marley Coyne, A Bed Ryan Zahalka, In a Mighty Stream Michelle Ma, Pacific Standard Time, Only Michael Shostek, Under Your Bed Isabel Oliveres, Copa Women's Bathroom Patrick Ford-Matz, Video Game Aisle at ToysRUs Ariela Osuna, Pile of Tequila and Diamonds Cassandra Kyriazis, Hogwarts Gina DeCagna, A Place With Nice Lamps Madeleine Wattenbarger, Pooping Zach Tomasavic, Drexel University Michael Kandel, Boca Raton JCC Rec Room Gabe Morales, Ballpit at McDonald's

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Randi Kramer, Ballpit at McDonald's Emma Soren, Pottruck Sauna Emily Marcus, On Birthright Patrick Del Valle, An Opium Den COVER DESIGN: Chloe Bower BACKPAGE DESIGN: Margot Halpern Contributors: Alyssa Berlin, Morgan Pearlman, Molly Collett, Carolyn Grace, Lucy Hovanisyan, Caroline Kee, Emily Johns, Clare Lombardo, Justin Sheen, Katherine Hartman, Marie Nikolova, Hallie Brookman

Contacting 34th Street Magazine: If you have questions, comments, complaints or letters to the editor, email Nina Wolpow, Editor–in–Chief, at wolpow@34st.com. You can also call us at (215) 8986585. To place an ad, call (215) 898-6581. VISIT OUR WEB SITE: www.34st.com "50 years ago, I had tuberculosis" ©2013 34th Street Magazine, The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. No part may be reproduced in whole or in part without the express, written consent of the editors (but I bet we will give you the a-okay.) All rights reserved. 34th Street Magazine is published by The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc., 4015 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Pa., 19104, every Thursday.

EGO

THINGS YOU SHOULD BE THANKFUL FOR

With Thanksgiving around the corner, we’re reminded to be thankful for all the awesome things Penn has to offer. Just think of A. Gutt and her “Time to Shine” extravaganza. Then stop and remember the little things on campus that really make Penn so awesome. Here are a few of our favorites. Yue Kee for being open past 8 p.m.: Hidden within this dingy–looking truck lies some of Penn’s finest Chinese cuisine (or so say the article clippings taped below the menu). If it weren’t for this truck's staying open much later than any other on campus, we’d probably never have given Yue Kee a second glance—but we’re glad we did. It’s fast, it’s delicious and its central location near 38th and Locust streets makes it perfect for a post– night–class dinner. Yue Kee embodies the spirit of “don’t judge a book by its cover.” Also, “if it’s the last book on the shelf, it’s good enough.”

Lights on Locust: You don’t know exactly what you did between midnight and now, but it’s 5 a.m. and you’re making the worst walk of shame of all—the long one home on Locust from Van Pelt. You’re cold, you’re tired and you want nothing more than to go to sleep. You suddenly look up and, like the North Star, the lights on Locust are there to guide you home. It might be sappy, but seriously, the lights on Locust are the best.

That little walkway behind Castle that saves you about 20 seconds: When you’re rushing to your recitation in Williams, that path behind Castle is a godsend. Because yes, you’re saving, like, what? Twenty seconds? But using that secluded little path just feels better. It’s less crowded than the walk, it’s surrounded by some nice flora, and, best of all, no matter how many people use it it feels like a well–kept secret. A well–kept secret between you and those bros wearing shorts even though it’s basically winter now. Especially when you’re late for class and 20 seconds marks the difference between an awkward shuffle and a stealth slide into class.

The “bells” that ring every hour on College Green: From noon to 6 p.m. every day, the bells on top of the Sweeten Alumni House on Locust Walk act as our favorite kind of cover band. Sure, there’s no alienated hunchback to be found, but walking to your next class on College Green is just a little more fun when you’re listening to a soundtrack of “Hey Jude,” “Hello Dolly,” and other old–school favorites, as interpreted by some giant bells. We’re still looking for the MP3s, though.

20–piece McNuggets for $4.99: What is friendship but two friends munching on 20 pieces of McDonald’s chicken McNuggets together? These babies bring people of all walks of life to Penn’s very own watering hole, the McDonald’s at 40th and Walnut streets. There’s a reason why McD’s McNugs are our go–to 3 a.m. snack spot—nothing hits your drunk hungry sweet spot than some hot shareable, all–white–meat chicken bites.

The guy at CVS who’s always making sure you have your ExtraCare card: This undeclared keeper of the self–checkout line may drive you nuts (they're on sale)—especially when all you want to do is buy your tampons and chocolate in peace. That being said, you’ve probably reaped the rewards of having an ExtraCare card now. Bruce, we salute you. Although we can handle the self–checkout line ourselves.

That the Farmers Market outside the bookstore accepts Dining Dollars: Farmers markets aren’t just for rich hipster grad students (or people like them) anymore. Because of some unkown hero’s incredible innovation, the weekly Wednesday farmers market outside of the bookstore takes Dining Dollars, giving Penn students a reason to splurge on overpriced (and organic?) apple cider. The only thing that could make this mini–market better is if it accepted Bursar.

Couches at Van Pelt: Penn is in need of a designated mid–day napping spot. Until then, we have those couches in the basement of Van Pelt. Sure, they’re ratchet as fuck, but when you’ve got only an hour in between classes and that all–nighter really messed with your head, it’s good to know that there’s somewhere you can go. It doesn’t matter what train you take to Dreamland, USA— all that matters is you get there. Even if you do have a dash of lice in your hair when you wake up.

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EGO

EGOEGO OF THE WEEK: MONICA SCHECHTER

As co–president of Kite and Key and co–editor–in–chief of the Pennsylvania Punchbowl, Monica Schechter has to walk the line between being educational and funny every day. Her easy solution? Puns. Cat puns. Street: If someone were giving a tour, and you were a stop on the tour, what would they say? Monica Schechter: Probably something like, “And here you can see the typical overcommitted Penn student in her natural habitat: standing on Locust flyering for some event.” Street: How would you host the perfect party? MS: The perfect party starts with the perfect party playlist. My

roommate made a playlist for my 21st called “Ass Wigglers.” Street: Fuck, marry or kill: Benjamin Franklin. MS: Marry. I think that he’s very, very smart, and I would love to spend the rest of my life with someone that smart. Although apparently he abandoned his wife. Street: What’s your guilty pleasure? MS: Puns. I love puns. As

somebody who’s into comedy, I should like higher forms of comedy, but I just really can’t get enough.

in my apartment. If you ever want to hire me for a kid’s birthday party, I can apparently entertain them.

Street: What’s your best one? M S : Okay, so my roommate and I came up with a whole list of cat names that are puns of dictators. We got Catamir Putin, Kitty Jong–Il, Pussilini. Chairman Meow is the classic; it started us off. But we’re just going to turn into cat ladies. We’re going to keep getting cats so we can give them pun names.

Street: If you could create your own country, w h a t would it be called, and what would it be like? MS: It would definitely be located somewhere warm, where there’s beaches, but also a really tall mountain in the middle so you could go skiing if you wanted to. But people would need to speak in correct grammar. I’m a bit of a grammar nazi. Maybe there would literally be grammar nazis roaming around. And what would it

Street: What’s your secret talent? MS: I’m really good at making balloon animals. My favorite is making turtles. I have, like, 22 turtle balloon animals

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be called? Um… I’m trying to come up with a pun, but I can’t. Street: Your leadership style is akin to what famous leader? MS: Maybe someone like Ben Franklin, actually. I think he was accepting of all types of people. Street: There are two types of people at Penn… MS: People who miss Don Memo’s and freshmen. Street: What’s your signature drink? MS: I love Blue Moon. I think it’s just because I love eating the orange at the end. Street: Who’s your alter ego? MS: Sometimes I think I’m like Bruce Banner in that I’m, like, normal Monica when I’m Bruce Banner, and if I get super stressed out I turn into the hulk version of Monica who’s just someone who wears sweatpants outdoors. Street: What’s your spirit animal? MS: Gordon Ramsay. I think that on the inside I’m nice and whatever, but on the outside I’m yelling at people. But on the inside of that I have a heart of gold, just like Gordon. There’s lots of layers—it’s like a parfait. Street: What’s a piece of advice you would give to freshmen that you wouldn’t say on tours? MS: I think some advice that I got as a freshman was to say “yes” to everything. Especially in your first couple weeks here at Penn. Like, to a limit, yes, but you’ll find so many new people and so many new things that if someone asks you to do something you’ve never done before, don’t stay in your comfort zone. Say “yes” to everything. Do new things. Meet new people. You’ll never get a chance to do that again.

MUSIC

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MUSIC

FIVE MUSIC FAN STEREOTYPES

We all know those diehard music fans—they love one genre only. You might recognize some of them. BY LUCY HOVANISYAN

THE STEREOTYPE

FAVORITE ALBUM

HIP–HOP AFICIONADO

META LISTENER

HIPSTER MUSIC FAN

THE ALL– AMERICAN

"For Lack of a Better Name," deadmau5

"good kid, m.A.A.d city," Kendrick Lamar

"Mirror Maru" EP, Cashmere Cat

"Sun Giant" by Fleet Foxes

"Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen

Glow sticks

Beats by Dre headphones

Obscure music appreciation blogs

Urban Outfitters record player briefcase

Cowboy boots

AT A PARTY, YOU’LL HEAR HIM/HER SAY…

“Just got a new fanny pack for Ultra!”

“Feelin’ some type of way."

“… I saw that show at The Dolphin Tavern.”

“When I was in Brooklyn last weekend…”

"You from Tennessee? 'Cause you're the only 10 I see."

CHILDHOOD IDOL

Johnny Bravo

Snoop Dogg

Morrissey

Andy Warhol

Bruce Springsteen

SPENDS MOST OF HIS/HER TIME AT…

Pottruck

The Biopond

The Rotunda

Hub Bub Coffee

Smoke's, especially for Kweder

DRUG OF CHOICE

Molly

Lean

LSD

Weed

Coors Light

Neon candy bracelets

Air Jordans

Graphic t-shirts from Philly AIDSThrift

Beard, scarves and flannel

Americana–themed frat tank

CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT HIS/ HER…

MOST LIKELY WEARS…

THE RAVER

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MUSIC

ALBUM REVIEW

“BAPTIZED” Daughtry

“Baptized” debuted this week from "American Idol" fourth– runner–up Chris Daughtry and his band, Daughtry. Surprisingly, the album’s title is not a giveaway for a religious revival. The band members are still balding, midlife–crisis rockers who wear boot–cut jeans and too much pseudo–religious male jewelry—now with a “folk–pop twist.” But a religious album would’ve been better than this desperate last push to milk that American Idol fame. The album’s namesake track, “Baptized” sounds like someone made Imagine Dragons chug Tennessee honey whiskey and play on banjos while doing that screaming–singing thing. "Baptized" will be over–played on a “contemporary hit” stations and at dentists' offices. Suffice it to say, nothing sounds good while leaned back, blinded by fluorescent lights and choking on someone else’s gloved hands, but Daughtry’s at another level of terrible—even for dentist music. CAROLINE KEE

POP THAT

In an anonymous survey, we asked an important question: what'd you listen to your first time? Responders (hey, "writing bitch") self–identified. “Animal”—Neon Trees "She was a virgin, and so was I. Uh oh, what are you waiting fooooor? Obviously not marriage, thank God!" —Bioengineering Senior “Pregnant”—R. Kelly "In hindsight, this probably wasn’t the best mood music… but I happened to have the R. Kelly album on shuffle, and we all know what happens when R. Kels works his magic. "—SAE Senior “Letters from the Sky”—Civil Twilight "It was really sweet. He cooked me dinner, and we made out for a bit. There is a part in the song that goes 'and I know,' and that was when I knew we were going to do it. The guy turned out to be complete asshole, and we broke up a while later, but as far as first times go… I wouldn’t change it." — Wharton Junior

tion to have about JGL ever. I haven’t watched the video since." —Writing Bitch “Adorn”—Miguel "I still put this song on first whenever I’m with a girl." —College Freshman “Push It”—Salt–n–Pepa "The lyrics turned our tryst into a Simon says game. It was awesome."—Engineering Sophomore “4’33’’”—John Cage "Who the fuck listens to music while fucking? This is four minutes and 33 seconds of silence, which, lets be honest, is probably as long as anyone in this situation would last."—English Major

“Bad Romance” covered by Joseph Gordon– Levitt "It was my first successful masturbation/orgasm. I was watching a video of Joseph Gordon–Levitt singing Bad Romance and it was really hot, and next thing I knew I was having an orgasm… and I was like, holy shit, this is the greatest associa-

Grade: D Download: “Baptized” Sounds best when: You’re running on a Pottruck first floor treadmill after chugging a HipCityVeg milkshake (and by that we mean pureed bananas).

GUILTY PLEASURE: POTTRUCK’S PLAYLIST Forget the haters, because somebody loves ya, Pottruck.

“I’m a slave to the music…” pumped through the Pottruck atrium and locker rooms. You know what tunes I’m talking about—and if you don’t, take those earbuds out and appreciate the background music of practically every pop and soft–rock hit from the ’60s until about 2004. I only wish Pottruck’s playlist was played louder so it could be heard over the hum of the treadmills. Really. When it comes to the gym, I’ll gladly turn off The xx or Kendrick Lamar on my iPod in favor of “Come on Eileen”’s too–ra– loo–ras coming out of the Pottruck speakers. I don’t have the time to cultivate a workout playlist that could ever rival the chart–topping, easy–listening brilliance of the music played at Pottruck. Hall & Oates might not be typical exercise motivation, but “You Make My Dreams Come True” will help you erg those last 500 meters every time. EMMA SOREN

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FILM & TV

REVIEW: "PHILOMENA" Directed by Stephen Frears, the BBC film “Philomena” recounts the amazing true story of one woman’s journey to find her son, who had been stolen from her when he was just a child. Filled with British wit and dry humor, the film itself has little plot development and is a bit boring. When she was very young, Philomena became pregnant and gave birth to a baby boy. Cast out by her family and sent to a convent, she is forced to hand the baby over to nuns who sell her child to an American family. Philomena spends the rest of her life wondering what happened to her child until she is given the opportunity to find him with the help of a journalist from the BBC. In the movie, Philomena (Judi Dench) is an adorlends a able little Irish lady whose ignorance manifests humorous spin to her heart–wrenching story. Philomena seeks the help of journalist Martin Sixsmith (Steve Coogan), whose cynicism starkly contrasts her offsets unwavering belief in the good of humanity. The film excels at creating appealing and relatable characters, but does little to develop them. Martin and Philomena remain static throughout the film; Martin’s constant interaction with Philomena does not bring about the change in him you would expect.

Given that the film is meant to recount a true story, it is understandable that the drama is not too high. However, the director does very little to expand on the corruption of the convent or the loose ends left by Martin and Philomena’s visit to America. Coupled with Worsened by the lack of character development, the film comes off as flat and one–dimensional. Ultimately, the film is a touching story about one woman’s quest to find her son that is full of British wit but woefully want of character development and plot progression. EMILY JOHNS

Grade: C+ Rating & Runtime: PG-13, 98 mins. See if you liked: “The Perks of Being a Wallflower”

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FILM & TV

"SALINGER" TRAILER OF THE WEEK: "AMERICAN HUSTLE" With a special screening of the opening six minutes of “American Hustle” at the American Film Institute Festival, it looks like director David O. Russell’s next big film has made it to the list of Oscar contenders once again. “American Hustle” tells the story of Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale), a con man who is recruited and forced to work for FBI agent Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper). After Rosenfeld and his wife (Amy Adams) get pushed into the mafia world of New Jersey, we learn that while some hustle for love, respect and truth, we all hustle to survive. “American Hustle” will be released Dec. 13, 2013. What We Love: David O. Russell couldn’t get enough of the dynamic duo of Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence in “Silver Linings Playbook” and neither can we. Although there is no suggestion of an onscreen romance between the two, Jennifer and Bradley carry a strong dynamic that will become prevalent as Lawrence plays Rosenfeld’s wife. “American Hustle” writer, Eric Warren Singer, has dubbed the Oscar–winning actress “a brick through a plate glass window […] that’s how solid she is.” Among others, the film stars Robert de Niro, Jeremy Renner and Louis C.K.. What We Don’t: We have to hope that the release date and the overlap of theater time for “Catching Fire” and “American Hustle” isn’t going to disrupt people’s perceptions of Lawrence’s character in “Hustle.” These two films have received a lot of either commercial or Oscar buzz, and the last thing we want is to sit down in the theater, see Jennifer onscreen and think that we’re walking into District 12 to find what happens Katniss Everdeen after her victory in the 74th Hunger Games.

All of this is disappointing, given that Salinger’s life and work holds potential for a fascinating documentary. The author was, and still is, surrounded in mystery, and what we know about him—including his experience with PTSD and his simultaneously endearing–yet–creepy interest in children—makes his writing all the more curious. Most interesting in “Salinger” is the discussion of “The Catcher in the Rye” used as inspiration to kill, as Mark David Chapman, John Lennon’s murderer, did. In his defense, Chapman says into the camera, “I was literally living inside a paperback novel: J. D. Salinger’s ‘The Catcher in the Rye.’” Though disappointing in some ways, “Salinger” sheds light on the personality of an author whose words rang true in the lives of countless people. As Martin Sheen asserts in the film, “I think Salinger understood something about the culture long before the culture understood it about itself.”

Upon its release in 1951, “The Catcher in the Rye” became the companion of millions of American teenagers—its narrator, Holden Caulfield, became their voice. J. D. Salinger’s book has resonated with generations ever since and has sold more than 60 million copies. “Salinger,” the new documentary directed by Shane Salerno (writer and producer of “Savages”), examines the mysterious author’s life, from his upbringing in posh New York society to his retreat into rural New Hampshire. The film’s lackluster form overshadows its content. “Salinger” features interviews with the author’s family, friends, biographers, fans and notable names in entertainment—including Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Martin Sheen. These interviews are captivating, but what Salerno uses to fill the void between them is not. The film repeatedly zooms in and out of the few photographs of the author ever taken and overuses footage of a man pounding at a typewriter on a dark stage. It lacks transitions and makes awkward introductions of “never before seen footage” and “previously unknown” information about Salinger’s life in text on a dark screen.

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FILM & TV

THANKSGIVING GUIDE TO FILM

Thanksgiving break falls just two weeks short of the reading days–finals storm. If you're like us, you'll be chowing on Turkey or binging on Netflix. Check out these film recommendations tailor made for post– tryptophan–comas.

If you’re Then you This movie Grade feeling: should watch: will make you: in life: Slacksgiving

A bit guilty

In the middle

Feel good about your lazy self

Feel like it could be worse

Feel like greatness is just beyond your grasp

More or less the man

Confused about the meaning of life

On top of all your shit

Remember you'll always be second best

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Why:

It’s 7 p.m. after the awkward earliness of the Thanksgiving meal, so you might as well check out “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” This movie is the epitome of a slacker flick—you’ve probably seen it before, but maybe not since you were a kid. It’s an oldie but a goodie. Nothing makes skipping college work seem casual like watching people play hooky in high school. Since you’re more into the social half of the “Social Ivy,” invite over some friends and break open some alc. Or don’t. That’s a lot of effort; there are only so many leftovers. Either way, it’ll make you want to get up and dance to “Twist and Shout” and realize that school is really no big deal. – KATIE HARTMAN Maybe you’re about to start watching a movie as you wake up at late in the afternoon over Thanksgiving break. You’re just starting to forget about the math final in two weeks that you should be studying for—when suddenly you find yourself wondering if you’re doomed for a life of failure. Enter “Little Miss Sunshine,” a movie that shows how lovable sucking at life could be. Each member of the family we meet is a disaster in his or her own special way, but what the movie teaches is that you shouldn’t doubt the failures. Even at their lowest points, they work together to let the daughter of the family have one chance to succeed in the Little Miss Sunshine beauty pageant. And even when that plan goes to shit, they’re still able to laugh and have one of the greatest dance scenes in movie history. So be proud to be a slacker! Try to sleep in until four tomorrow. – JUSTIN SHEEN

If you’re bored, indifferent, hungover or anywhere on the spectrum of slacking and stressed, throw on “DogTooth.” You’ll want to look away, but you won’t be able to. While the violence and the sex will make you feel absolutely disgusted and uncomfortable with yourself, the ridiculousness of it all will make you laugh. You might come out of it feeling strange or upset, but you’ll definitely leave grateful for your normal life. For the slackers—they’ll be forced to think, to question meaning and to engage in debate with their viewing partner. To the stressed—they’ll definitely come out feeling better about any upcoming history paper or geo exam. – MARIE NIKOLOVA

You’re killing it at all of your dirty rush events, you didn’t fail that pop quiz like you thought you had and life seems like it’s back on track. Just as you’re about to proclaim yourself “the man,” you decide to treat yourself to some Netflix eyecandy in the form of a Ryan Gosling car flick. Bad idea, ladykiller. It’ll take you half a car chase down the backstreets of L.A. for you to realize your stick shift skills are shit, two scenes featuring Gosling’s leather half– gloves and scorpion varsity jacket to make you want to discard your half–assed college bro wardrobe and a single scene involving Gosling’s foot and a hit man’s bashed in–brains for you to reconsider those krav m aga classes. Life’s good, you see, but only a few were born to greatness. – MICHELLE MA

Okay, you’ve made it through midterms, aced them all (maybe) and break is here. You’ve got it all under control. You are so on top of your life that nothing can bring you down. Right? Wrong. You can’t really compete with Katniss. It doesn’t matter how many “A”s you pulled out this semester or what internships you’ve secured: If you didn’t volunteer yourself as tribute to save your little sister, then you’re not doing all that you could be. Until you can manage to lead a revolution and survive a few murder attempts, you just can’t compete. Watch this if you need to be knocked down a notch, or four. – EMILY JOHNS

S E NI O R SU PERL ATIV E S SENIOR SUPERLATIVES S U P E R L AT I V E S

HOTTEST GUY: J OH N COLAVITA

Why is John so hot? According to one sophomore girl, "He just is." More objective factors might include: a prounounced jawline, a smile cuter than Freddy Prince Jr.'s, a rugby–barrel chest and over six feet of stud. Added bonus: His last name does not end in –stein, –blum, –gold or –man and is a popular brand of olive oil. Dear John: Our backs need greasing—leave the extra virgin at home.

MOST LIKELY TO HAVE HIS OWN REALITY SHOW: R USSEL AB D O

As the self–proclaimed “third Olsen twin,” Russell takes the drunkest girl at the party to a new level. Dare to joke in front of him, he'll Simon Cowell the shit out of you while sipping on a Copa margarita. He'll likely be the contestant, judge and producer of his own show. It could be called "Copa Idol," "WilCaf Wives;" regardless of the show's premise, we'd watch the fuck out of it.

MOST LIKELY TO NEVER SKIP KWEDER: ANDREW MUSSER

MOST LIKELY TO SPEND POST-GRAD NIGHTS WRITING ON COLLEGIATEACB: ALI KOKOT

"Anyone with a beating heart understands that writing these posts is mean," Ali wrote in her November 4th column targeting this award's titular blog. Assuming makes an ass of u and me, but unless Ali has lost her journalistic integrity or her ability to sustain bodily function, a link went missing in this case. A bit of sleuthing reveals that CollegiateACB posts consist not only of the vengeful musings of undersexed fratstars, but of ironic—if not somewhat corny—rants in defense of the blog's victims, too. Conclusion: Ali's mommy, not a meany.

MOST LIKELY TO RUN FOR POLITICAL OFFICE AND LOSE: E R N ES T O WEN S

You've probably heard of Ernest through Ernest himself, by way of his radio show, his Twitter account, his Huffington Post articles, his vlogs or his eyecatching website (love the crown, Ernie). Or maybe you've only just heard whispers about the man who used his charm and golden thong to rig his freshman year class board elections, and then lose them. Sure, he didn't win that contest, but we bet this media emperor will get the last laugh, sitting on top of a throne shaped like his face.

It’s hard to miss Andrew Musser at Smoke's partly because he’s so tall, and partly because he’s always there. One could say that this SAE, Omega prepster is more of a fixture than Smokey Joe himself. In the moments Andrew's not there, you can find him dry–humping the Love Statue or making out with his autographed Kweder calendar.

MOST LIKELY TO BE FORCED OFF STAGE WHEN ACCEPTING HER OSCAR: NATAL IE R IEMER

Natalie is the best kind of character: loud and proud, with the voice of Barbra Streisand and, well, the attitude of Barbra, too. This TriDelt, Without a Netter, and overall funny girl knows how to take the spotlight and keep it. If her Radio–Disney–meets–midget–porn past is any indicator, even the biggest of leagues is forced to give her notice. Natalie's got the mind of Wall Street and the heart of Texas, but if you dare to rain on her inevitable Oscar parade, get ready to feel the fists of Body Combat.

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MOST LIKELY TO QUIETLY TAKE OVER THE WORLD: F RAN K COLLEL UOR I

Big things come in small packages… or something like that. Frank spends his nights contemplating Frank Ocean, his next brunch restaurant and world domination. Street may have "lost" all his votes, but they were easier to find than Frank is in a crowd of normal–sized people. Already head of the NEC and a proud member of Carriage and Sphinx, Frank’s made tangible progress on his march toward power. First stop: Penn. Next: everywhere else. Don’t be jealous of his boogie.

S U P E R L AT I V E S

MOST LIKELY TO UBER TO CLASS: ASH L EY CATAL AN O-LE C KE RM AN

If, like Red Bull, an angelic voice could give you wings, Ashley wouldn't have to walk to class. But, since flying is impossible, Ashley calls Uber, prefering movements in a Puccini opera to those involved in walking. The stretch from the Radian to Huntsman might not typically be considered a schlep, but Ashley isn't your typical diva. She's an uber diva, and this is her chariot.

During her first UA election, Lisa ran on the convincing platform of "Lease a Shoe." She may not have won the first time, but our Facebook newsfeeds assure us that she's remained active on the UA and in the liquor store. While white collar crimes are only a projection, Lisa has got a penchant for Wharton shenanigans. Read: This girl's got potential for a more than hostile takeover of Penn's already brimming talent pool. For this superlative, she's a Xu–in.

Vandy's been forcibly removed from not one, but two Wa–wa–wonderful campus establishments. When she isn't enjoying Wawa's luxe chicken salad sandwiches ("I swear guys, they're not as gross as they sound!"), she's attemping to escape from the joint with stolen Slim Jims in her pants. Clearly, she's gottahava Wawa.

MOST LIKELY TO GET ARRESTED AT A PROTEST: TANI A C HAI RE Z

Tania is not most likely to get arrested at a protest. She already has been. This Sphinge, a vocal advocate for immigrant rights on campus and in Philly, got cuffed in 2012 at a Center City protest for “disorderly conduct,” risking deportation in the process. Didn’t hear about it? Educate yo’ self and accept the fact that you’ll never match her cojones.

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NEXT JOHN LEGEND: WE S S P I RO

Do you hear that? Those gentle notes, as if sung by angels from on high? It’s not divine intervention—you’re probably just listening to Wes sing. This Elmo Friar used to sing with the a cappella group The Inspiration, but has recently struck out solo, earning snaps and swoons from audiences across campus and making panties drop... oh wait, sorry, ladies. He’s heading down the pre–med path, which is fine for his career: we hear his cover of Amy Winehouse’s “Back to Black” cures all ailments.

With the last name "Jok" we think it's his "Dau–stiny" to become a pro athlete. Dau is known for his huge hands and heart. When he's not playing defense on the men's basketball team, this Sphinge–Onyx is busy inspiring kids in his native South Sudan through the Dut Jok Foundation. Additionally, as he's been featured on ESPN and in Sports Illustrated for his talents on and off the court, it seems Dau's palming the "pro" thing with ease.

MOST LIKELY TO FOUND A CULT: JORDAN S I LV E RM AN

Never seen Jordan? Here’s a tip: she can be found stalking the halls of Huntsman, powered only by the blood of household pets and the spirits of equity derivatives that have passed. She might be heading to Wall Street next year, but we all know her real intention is far more sinister: start a cult founded on unquestioning devotion to crop tops (or no tops) and Lord of the Rings. Prepare yourselves, mortals.

MOST LIKELY TO BE ON SNL: JOSIE ELIAS

The head writer for one of ClasslessTV’s latest productions, "Office Hours," Josie externalizes the Liz Lemon we all internalize. Proficient in both Obscure Pop Culture References and Sarcastic Under His Breath Comments, we’re sure his "Saturday Night Live" debut would make the crowd go wild. Don’t worry though, we’re sure he’d bring his fame back to Penn someday, just like Vanessa Bayer. We guess that’s "pretty cool."

MOST LIKELY TO MAKE A MILLION DOLLARS WITH HIS FIRST START–UP: P U L A K M I TTA L

Pulak is just your regular, (not so) average student by day, crazyawesome tech entrepreneur by night. You know, NBD. As the leader of PennApps, the largest college hackathon in the world, and as a creator of multiple successful startups—have you heard of Emerald Exam? [Ed note: no]—this Sphinge–Oracle M&T programming superstar is already well on his way to making the big bucks. Gold diggers, assemble.

PENNAISSANCE MAN: M A R C U S M U N DY

HOTTEST GIRL: M I M I S OLM S S E N

Only one person at Penn can alternate between Old Hollywood classy and dominatrix–next–door with equal ease. Her name is Mimi and whether she's decked out in leather or a fancy–ass gown, this Tabard vixen is always an out–of–the–lunchbox beauty. No need to imagine how great the Munich– 4002 Spruce St, raised fraulein Philadelphia, PA 19104 would look in lederhosen: (215) 387-1583 she tried it already, the guys in the room spilled more than just Temaki (handroll) $1-$2 their beer.

The only thing louder than Marcus' booming voice and fashion sense is his presence on campus. On any given stroll down Locust, this Glee Club star and Penn Alcohol Module rep can be spotted greeting hoards of unrelated individuals. But he’s not just famous for being famous (though that certainly doesn’t hurt)—true to the spirit of the quintessential Pennaissance man, Marcus is probably more involved on campus than Amy G. Nothing mun–dane about Marcus.

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MOST LIKELY TO BECOME A PRO ATHLETE: DAU J O K

Known to basically no one as Heifo [Ed note: you're welcome, kids], the Heidi and Paul phenomenon started big time at Tiesto two Spring Flings ago, where the two met among the crowd vomming around them. The couple campaigned hard for the honor of our Cutest Couple, but nothing tops their Kim and Kanye couples Halloween costume. We suspect a little North West in their future—just don't release a sex tape.

MOST LIKELY TO GET ARRESTED FOR WHITE COLLAR CRIMES: LISA XU

MOST LIKELY TO GET KICKED OUT OF WAWA: A LEX VA N DEG RIF T

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MOST LIKELY TO HAVE A PENN BUILDING NAMED AFTER HIM: S P E NC E R P E NN

We chose Penn, and then we chose Penn again and again. For better or worse, Spencer has been a huge presence on campus all four years of his college career. That might not immediately translate into the renaming of Logan Hall (or is it Claudia Cohen?), but he's headed in the right direction. All he needs is to "meet his spouse at Penn," breed legacy children and make the right donation.

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MOST LIKELY TO LIVE HER LIFE IN 140 CHARACTERS OR LESS: EMILY RU DERMAN

BIGGEST PENIS: NICOLE GRABOWS KI

@erudez certainly tweets the big questions: Where do we come from, are we alone in the universe, what is art? JK, she tweets about the Jonas Brothers and Septa. Although this Alpha Phi Penn Singer's Twitter account is more #corny than contentious, there's no denying the #impact she's had on the Twittersphere. Whatever she tweets about, Emily has perfected the art of balancing a cappella solo-ing with her omnipotent social media presence. In @erudez's own words, #holycanoli.

BEST HOUSE: H OUSE OF SH AMB LES ( H OSH AM) Passed down through generations of female PennQuest leaders, the House of Shambles is currently home to Penn's premier multihellenic crew, but more recent additions include a stray cat from North Philly and an elderly plastic figurine acquired (mostly soberly) from CVS. The self–described "most high–maintenance superlative winners," HoSham can be found drowning in leftover fast food wrappers on 41st and Locust streets. Don't worry, team, just use them as kindling for your next bonfire.

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MOST LIKELY TO SPEND MORE TIME IN POTTRUCK THAN IN VAN PELT: OMAR I MAXWEL L

The cuts of Omari erging in the mirror in his Vimeo auto–documetary sold us on this one. For his suplative photoshoot, Omari literally brought Pottruck with him in a duffle bag. Ladies, take note: Omari's legs are proof that you can pump iron without bulking up. They just might be the skinniest limbs we've ever seen. "I just like taking my hammer to things," Omari says in the flick—he's talking about his hands–on major, but we sense a double entendre here. Too much time in the gym begs testosterone commentary—whether this is a case of too much or too little in the tank is hard to tell.

MOST LIKELY TO GO TO EACH DAY OF FEB CLUB: J U LIO ALBA RRA C IN

When he wasn't busy high–fiving Amy G, Julio spent the majority of his Penn career bitching about his pre–med classes and drinking the pain away every night. That's all (half ) changed now that his med school prayers have been answered early, ensuring that this Sammy– Friar–Class Board rep doesn't miss a day of Feb Clubauchery. It's rumored that Julio dances hard enough to break his own ankle, and that all of his status updates about Feb Club will get over 500 likes.

This superlative couldn't be more perfect for campus' most visible feminist. On the boards of the Vagina Monologues, ASAP and PCUW, Nicole spends most of her day thinking about cunts. Don’t be fooled though, this activist has one thing you don’t: the biggest dick on campus, with the balls to match. Don’t test her—she will rip out your chest hair and make you like it. One thing’s clear: her dick, Harvard Law School; your dick, Apex Technical.

PERSON YOU WISH YOU KNEW: NIKIL A DANDAPANI

You may not know Nikila, but you know who she is—whether you've attended one of her gigantic birthday gatherings (don't feel flattered; the entire campus receives an invite) or seen her SABSing around campus in her pastel harajuku dresses and technicolor wigs. She floats around numerous social circles, both those you've heard of and those you haven't. One thing's for sure: If you haven't met Nikila, you probably wish you had. At least then you'd have a face to put to that massive party you got invited to by some friend of a friend you barely knew.

MOST LIKELY TO MAKE AN APPEARANCE AT CHANCELLOR NEXT NSO: ALE E S C HWART Z

Of all the streets in Philadelphia, Chancellor seems to be the favorite come 4 p.m. on Penn's rowdiest Saturdays. Given that it's just a street (located, to be exact, between Locust and Walnut streets and halfway up 41st Street), we're not so sure what all the fuss is about. Clearly, we've got to get out more—or spend more time with Alee. Alee declined both to pose for her class photo and to comment on her abstention, preferring ThE Old Silence to her superlative. We wish you many dartys and a sceney next year.

FOOD & DRINK

MAKE THANKSGIVING DAY YOUR LEG DAY

If you're not heading home—or even if you are—the legs are where it’s at.

THANKSGIVUKKAH LEFTOVERS MASHUP The miracle of Thanksgivukkah will only last one day. Enjoy the amazing food combinations for eight crazy nights—or as long as the leftovers last.

It’s kind of ridiculous that we have class the Wednesday before Thanksgiving—not all of us can Amtrak home to the tri–state area. But just because you can’t make it home this year doesn’t mean you should miss out on the holiday's main event: the majestic turkey.

LEFTOVER TURKEY SANDWICH ON A CHALLAH ROLL: Preheat your oven to 175 degrees. Combine ¼ cup of butter, one teaspoon of salt, one teaspoon of poultry seasoning, one teaspoon of dried thyme and ¼ teaspoon of pepper in a small bowl. Get over your fear of touching uncooked poultry and spread the mixture all over the turkey legs. This animal literally gave life and limb for your enjoyment, so express your love and thanks by thoroughly massaging the mix into every nook and cranny. Then, pour ½ cup of chicken broth over the legs and pop ’em in the oven for an hour and a half. To keep the turkey from drying out, don’t add salt until the very end.

Unlike the bodies they’re usually attached to, turkey legs are surprisingly easy to make. Baking them forms a deliciously crispy skin that seals in moisture, and the relatively low cooking temperature ensures you won’t burn them. The meal might not live up to a typical Thanksgiving feast, but it’ll definitely boost your spirits and beat whatever the dining hall is serving. Unfortunately, your grandparents and your elderly Aunt Marge aren’t included in this recipe, but at least these turkey legs won’t judge you for your lack of career direction.

Thanksgiving isn't complete without the leftover turkey sandwich. This year, place your leftover turkey and cranberry sauce in between some challah bread. Extra points if you add a moist–making, gravy–soaked slice of bread in between. MASHED POTATO LATKES: Chances are, you'll have a sizeable amount of potato dishes left over. Grab some of your mashed potatoes, or mash up any of the various potato dishes that filled your table, and form them into patties. Fry them in some oil and voilà, you have easy potato latkes.

If you must pair it with pumpkin pie, go ahead and buy it at FroGro. Those are a pain in the ass to make. MORGAN PEARLMAN

For most people, leftover Thanksgiving cranberry sauce manages to hide itself away in the fridge until spring. Instead of letting it go to waste, mix it with some applesauce and throw in a handful of chopped apples.

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CRANBERRY–APPLE SAUCE:

PUMPKIN BREAD CAKE BITES:

@34st

Thanksgiving is the last pumpkin–filled holiday before we head into candy cane and gingerbread season. Mush your leftover pumpkin bread into vanilla frosting. Melt some of your Hanukkah gelt (if you can ever get it out of its wrapper) and roll the pumpkin mixture into balls. Dip them into the chocolate and let them cool. ALYSSA BERLIN

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FOOD & DRINK

For a school of 10,000 undergrads, Penn feels pretty damn small. When we set up freshmen Mitch Fogelson and Natalie Weiss on an (almost) blind date, they were surprised to find out they’d already met on PennQuest—before school even started. However, they were happy to get to know each other better over brunch at Red Owl Tavern. Here’s what happened: A Little Bit About the Daters

First Impressions

Mitch Fogelson: I’m a freshman in mechanical engineering involved with the Penn electric racing team and club golf. A fun fact about me: I took a gap year and studied in Israel.

MF: Natalie had the biggest smile on her face and went straight for a hug, which broke the ice very quickly… everything about her was glowing Natalie Weiss: I’m from upstate with joy on that beautiful New York and I’m a freshman in the fall day. College majoring in who knows. I really enjoy the color yellow and love NW: We did PennQuest all–you–can–eat buffets. I can’t sleep together, but we didn’t without my panda pillow pet named know each other very Soy Sauce. If you ever want to find well. I knew he was a nice me on campus, just keep an eye out guy, and I was really exfor a pair of bright green frocs (fake cited to get to know him crocs—very versatile shoes). better! Their Tinder Descriptions MF: If I had a Tinder, I think my description would be that I am just your typical, incredibly handsome, nice Jewish boy from Chicago (the city, of course) with an amazingly average–toned bod who loves nothing more than my bubbe’s noodle kugel and pondering about life at the Bio Pond. NW: Twerk master, donut eating machine.

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The Atmosphere MF: The environment was pretty cool. I mean, I enjoy any place that has exposed brick, and, in all seriousness, you walk in and everything just smells so fresh and amazing. The waitresses were very nice and the other customers ranged from couples to families to some bros getting together. NW: Walking in, the first thing I noticed was how good it smelled. It had an old school rustic vibe. I felt like I was in a really nice Western barn. I liked the lighting, and the big windows gave you a good view of Independence Hall. The restaurant was really airy and was a great way to start the day. The Food MF: Natalie and I shared our food so that we could try more, and we got the cinnamon bread french toast with wild huckleberries and vanilla mascarpone on top ($12), as well as the healthy bennie ($11): poached egg, wheat toast, goat cheese, avocado, tomato, basil. Everything was incredible. The french toast melted in your mouth, and the healthy bennie was really fresh and delicious. NW: The food was really good! I loved the orange juice (much better than Hill’s). I ordered sausage and french toast with cinnamon and blueberry sauce on top. I’m usually a little iffy with sausage because no one really knows what’s in that mystery meat. Anyway, the sausage was probably my favorite part. The french toast was pretty good, but nothing too out of the norm. I had some of Mitch’s meal too, and it was really fresh. It seemed really healthy, in case you’re into that kind of stuff.

MF: I would absolutely go again. It would be a great place to bring family or that crush who sits in front of you in math class. The location is also great for taking an after–brunch stroll. Natalie and I walked to the Liberty Bell and took a breather at the Independence Hall park. NW: Yes, definitely. I would want to try lunch and dinner.

The Conversation MF: The conversation was great, we just hit it off. We had met each other before on PennQuest, so there was so much to catch up on and learn about. NW: Flowin’. It was casual and friendly. I learned a lot about him and his family. Definitely helped me wake up from my early morning haze.

Red Owl Tavern:

Seconds?

We meant the date… MF: I would love to go on another date. Natalie was really nice, and there was never a silent moment. NW: Sure!

433 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, PA (215)-923-2267 www.redowltavern.com

FOOD & DRINK

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ARTS

DIY: BOTTLE CANDLE HOLDERS

You’ll Need:

Reuse old liquor bottles and impress your fam with this easy centerpiece.

1 Place the bottle on the newspaper— you’ll need it to catch drips. Insert one candle into the opening; if too big, hold the lighter to the bottom of the candle until enough wax melts for it to fit.

2 Hold the lighter to the side of the candle, right above the mouth of the bottle. The dripping should begin.

Glass bottles Taper candles (2 for $1.29 at FroGro or borrow from your mom over break) Lighter Newspaper

3 Continue melting the wax around the candle. For more variety, hold another candle next to the bottle and melt its wax over the other. This will give you more texture.

4 Once you’ve achieved the texture you want, place candle on table, light it and enjoy. 1 8 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E N O V E M B E R 2 1 , 2 01 3

ARTS

DISPATCH: THE MUSEUM WITHOUT WALLS

Museum without Walls is a self–guided audio tour of Philadelphia’s public sculptures. On audio files on the museum's website, experts talk about each work for a few minutes. Here's the audio and visual experience, from City Hall to Rittenhouse Square. 2:00 p.m.: I decide to start at the beginning with a cast bronze Will Penn swanning about on top of City Hall. What I envision will be three minutes of pretending to listen to voicemail becomes a small public lecture—Museum without Walls blares out of my phone on loudspeaker, and I don’t have headphones. I’m sure the homeless man residing on my bench is interested to know that, at the time of construction, William was the highest point in Philadelphia. I feel him: if I started a city, I’d find the highest point in the place and get on it like a car hood. 2:17 p.m.: As I stand in front of “LOVE,” its sculptor tells me, and anyone in earshot, that “everybody should have love.” Well, you know who’s got the take–home message here? All the couples currently surrounding me and no one. I see what they’re doing here—taking photos with the sculpture because it says what they’re in. Isn’t that beautiful? 2:18 p.m.: Museum without Walls, I know we only met 10 minutes ago, but do you—do you want to take a photo with me under the LOVE sculpture? Oh wait, we can’t because you’re also my camera. I love how multifaceted you are.

was constructed from Lichtenstein’s sketches nine years after his death in 1997. I’ve walked into a horror film starring Roy Lichtenstein: He’s inflicting his art on the living from beyond the grave. 2:40 p.m.: The good thing about a no–walls museum is that you can take it places. I bring my public disturbance to Joe Coffee on Rittenhouse. You don’t see the Barnes or PMA hanging out here. Sitting at the window, I can see the sculptures in the Square (sort of… if I use my imagination…). The musem website lists a work titled “Duck Girl.” “Elephant Man’s daughter,” I presume, and open the audio. 2:42 p.m.: I stand corrected. This is actually a sculpture of a girl with a duck. My phone tells me that it was a thing back in the day to give girls pets to “prepare them for maternity.” Infallible logic right there. 2:45 p.m.: As the last stop on my tour comes to an end, my cappuccino arrives. It is a work of art, but I can’t find its audio file. Visit museumwithoutwallsaudio.org to try it yourself.

Seth Simons “A good poem surprises us, it creates a feeling of tension within us, it makes us care enough to read more, and it probably contains interesting words in an interesting order.”

Check out an interview and 34–second video with spoken word poet, comedian and playwright Seth Simons at 34st.com!

MOLLY COLLETT

2:23 p.m.: Like many works by Roy Lichtenstein, “Brushstroke Group” at 17th and Market streets has no alibi. It’s U–G–L–Y. The director of the Lichtenstein Foundation announces to 17th Street that this sculpture

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SHOUTOUTS

SHOUTOUTS SHOUTOUTS SHOUTOUTS SHOUTOUTS SHOUTOUTS SHOUTOUTS SHOUTOUTS SHOUTOUTS SHOUTOUTS To Joe: I’ve literally never understood a single thing you’ve said. To the kid who thinks he’s from Alabama: I’d let you roll my tide. To the boys always out on highrise field: stop trying to make your trampoline–ball game happen.

To Lowbrow: hello. Peeping on you from a dark corner of commons. (Ed note: Fuck you Judy.) To the girl who went to a party in blackface: you painted your face black, no one cares that you “didn’t mean it like that.”

To Omega: drinking a lot and doing cocaine are not grounds for an exclusive club at Penn.

To loud AXO girl: shhhh!!!!!!!!!

To a certain freshman girl: in a matter of weeks you’ve had more sex than everyone in Rodin.

To Cosi: be a fucking Panera already.

To the guys trying to get into my pants: just stick your hands down them. I am really easy. To the guy who stole the Class of 2017 tree–planting shovel: you really dug yourself into a hole on that one.

To the parents at SAE on homecoming: sorry for trying to steal your children, but in all honesty we all knew I was blackout so I don’t think I’m 100% responsible on this one.

To my roommate: Roses are red. Violets are blue. If you lure another squirrel into our room, I’ll kill you.

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Call for pick-up: 215-662-1663 2 0 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E N O V E M B E R 2 1 , 2 01 3

To the guy who plays Edgar Allan Poe: you can have my tell tale– heart. To the hot dude with the eyebrows that always fixes the projector in my Witchcraft seminar: you put a spell on me. To Ernest Owens: thank you for helping me realize that being alone with a pillow is okay. To the freshman at Kappa Sig’s day party: I’m actually not a mechanical engineer, so please don’t take my course advice on Math 320. Additionally, my father did not invent coffee. To the girl who got escorted out of the Radian in handcuffs: calm down, it’s Tuesday.

To The Walk: stop trying to make “looking good in winter” a thing.

To my alcoholic housemate: that’s not a cat caller, that’s an ambulance following you home. To the Harrison RA with the rockin’ shower radio: you should try singing along sometime. To the people who endorsed themselves for Senior Superlatives: most likely to be people I unfriend on Facebook? To everyone who bikes on the sidewalks: stop hitting me. To the one they call needledick: actually, more of a rolling pin. To my lab partner: that smell wasn’t the bunsen burner. Sorry. I figured you probably already knew since… well, it’s a psychology lab and we don’t use one. Thanks for being cool with it.

To the girl who comforted me while I was having a complete meltdown in public: I have no idea who you are, and you had no idea who I was. Most people probably thought I was hysterically sobbing because I got a B– in Accounting or something, but I was actually upset because I found out my Dad has cancer and might not make it to my graduation. You came up to me and asked if I needed a hug completely out of the blue, and it couldn’t have been better timed or more appreciated. Thank you for restoring my faith in humanity in the Forum of Huntsman. To the guy watching Pokemon Battles on Youtube in class: you sir, are the very best. To the boy who spent an entire OPIM 321 class posting on a Walt Disney World fan site forum: maybe Wharton isn’t the place for you… To the kid sitting alone in Starbucks writing fake shoutouts about himself: stay beautiful kid. You’re lookin’ real good today. To you with the glasses: fuck you.

SHOUTOUTS

To the Wizard of Farts (WoF): your senior year has finally come, and with it a whole new rain of olfactory terror on Penn’s campus. May you fart with the fury of 1,000 White Walkers in your penultimate semester. To the senior boy who came too early: thanks for sticking around for "Remember the Titans." To Kate the waxer at Adolf Biecker: how does it feel to know you’ve seen more pussy than any frat guy at Penn? To “You Know Who You Are”: the twinkle in your eye and your cutie smile makes me want to massage your mismatched shoulder. Let me wear your flaming hot red sweatshirt and be your dumb, short, Indian girl. To my anxious roommate: I do take photos of you when you’re sleeping. You look so peaceful.

To the boys who called me a fat tit: I am not a fat tit.

To Osiris Senior Singing Society: what? Enough. To the Asian girl at Pottruck: the machines are for weights, not selfies. To the elderly man who rides a scooter: right on. To the Nutrition Trio: can I be the glycerol to your fatty acids? Like a triglyceride? #passfail To the male swimmer who peed in my dryer: fuck you. To AirPennNet: why are you the only thing that goes down on me? To cats: I look at you guys on the internet ALL THE TIME. To Hat Tim: you’re way more fun than regular Tim. To the liquor store on 43rd and Chestnut: my arms and thighs thank you. To all religiously–affiliated groups on campus: I only believe in Holy Guacamole. To Shake Shack/ Yogorino: Come closer. Closer. Closer still. To the girl with the medical boot: you look good with your hair down. You should do that more often. To HipCityVeg banana whips: you realize Ben & Jerry’s is next door, right? To the Greek Lady honey mustard: why don’t you come with a straw?

To the girl in med sociology always rockin’ the snooki–esque hair poof: fuck them haterz gurl you keep doin you.

To my housemate who keeps leaving the door open: we live in West fucking Philadelphia.

To the Bryn Mawr student who speaks incessantly in my seminar: you don’t even go here.

To the SAE senior who apparently lost his virginity to Pregnant by R. Kelly: risky business, eh?

To 34th street: what can’t you print? Fuck? Shit? Bitch? Cocksucker? Cunt? Asshole? Clitoris? I’ll get you guys eventually...(ed. note: nothing) To the A’s boy who couldn’t get it up: don’t worry, Daddy will buy you some Viagra. To my hot blonde linguistics TA from Iceland: let’s ReykjaFuck. To the sexy Arab pre–dental senior: I would love for you to play around in my mouth. To the girl with the rainbow collection of kippahs: it gets better. To HubBub: I can’t wait to come home from abroad and hang out in you! Dear Tabard: how many self–righteous feministas does it take to feel empowered? To the Class of 2014: welcome to the rest of senior year, where everything is made up and the points don’t matter. To the guy who is doing crazy stuff with his sock game: all of his socks match his pants every day. It’s crazy.

To Wawa: if an SDT drunk–eats a hoagie but blacks out later that night, did she even eat it at all? To a certain junior who kicked me out of his room in the middle of the night: you are not a secret agent. No one sent you a message at 3 a.m. notifying you to my lack of security clearance.

TO THE COMPUTER CONNECTION: WHY CAN’T YOU FIX THE CAPS LOCK KEY ON MY KEYBOARD? I’M ACTUALLY A VERY TIMID PERSON. To Hugh Jackman: keep doing your thing man. Not sure if you have time to read this. But man, how cool would that be? Fucking wolverine, man. Awesome. What a guy. To the trail mix I just bought at Wawa: da fuq was with that nut to M&M ratio? God damn. I thought this was America. If I wanted mixed nuts I would have bought ’em. To Amy Gutmann: I know what you did to all those Argentinians in the Poconos. You won’t get away with this! To Lay’s Family Size Potato Chips: WHAT KIND OF FAMILY ARE YOU TRYING TO SERVE?? A FAMILY CANNOT LIVE ON POTATOES ALONE.

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N O V E M B E R 2 1 , 2 01 3 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 2 1

SHOUTOUTS

To the realest fraternity out there: ain’t got no chapter house, ain’t got no endowment. Broke Phi Broke, they ain’t got it.

tucked under the cheese! To Sigma Kappa: stop pulling your fire alarm. We know you’re not hot.

To the Penn student body: let us take a minute to remember those we have lost this past year. Memo’s, Lee’s, and DP Dough. RIP. To the Beta sophomore who tried to get in my pants with the Disney sing–along in his room: Hakuna Matata can only get you so far in life.

To all Whartonites: please stop running up and down the escalators. I’m sure you can spare 20 seconds of your self indugence. Love, A Philosophy Major.

To the security guards at Van Pelt: if I just ran by without opening my bag, would you chase me? C’mon, be honest.

To the guy who stole my cat jack–o–lantern: you thought your plan was purr–fect, but I cat you on camera, so bring it back right meow.

To all the drag queen enthusiasts: let’s have a GBM! Monday at 9:30 in JMHH 225? Free Allegro pizza with the sausage

To the bartender at Harvest who said that it gets wild there every night: you’re cute when you’re wrong. www.allcitystorage.com 5500 Sansom Street 215.471.1002

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To the guy at CVS who keeps asking if I have my extracare card: I don’t. And I never will just to spite you. To the doctoral student who jumped out of the bushes outside Van Pelt to ask me to dinner: restraining order, party of one? To McDonald’s Chicken Nuggets: I blame you for my future hypertension. To the boy who whispered I wanna lick Nutella off your ass in my ear: what a perfect moment to learn you can’t have it all. To Qdoba: your three cheese queso sauce is the wind beneath (between) my wings (ass cheeks). To that wonderful girl who sends me a poem every day: let’s go to Iceland together. To the Uber driver who gave me advice on my lovelife: HE STILL DIDN’T TEXT ME BACK. To my crush in PiKapp: I may not be that funny or athletic or good looking or smart or talented… I forgot where I was going with this… To my stingy date: you can save a lot of money on pants by not wearing them. To the Theta who was trying to figure out how many grams of coke her Tiffany’s bracelet is worth: well I guess that’s the joke.

To Penn Cheerleaders: thank you for breaking stereotypes!!!!! (about cheerleaders being hot)

To my last college paper: you are the only thing standing in the way of my first kitten.

To my physics lab 102 lab TA: Ooo what’s the cologne you’re wearing? Pure Ass by Calvin Klein? No it can’t be, because I know Calvin’s butthole couldn’t smell that bad.

To the eager frosh who judaized Butcher/Speakman with bagels on all the doorknobs: you had me until you slid that gefilte fish under my door.

To the Theta that covered herself in orange paint: orange is clearly not the new black…

To Miss Cassandra: what’s your dick like, homie? What are you into?

To every girl at Penn: your ass looks like cottage cheese in a trash bag. To Gary: you are the most kind person I’ve ever met and you always brighten my day. The Radian is truly lucky to have you as an employee. To the girl I was eating out that almost crushed my head between her thighs when she came: that’s the last time I go out with someone I met at a squat rack.

To my hot architecture professor: sometimes I wish I were a column so you would hug me. To a certain Ancient History professor who always wears Hawaiian shirts: Mahalo! To the geology major who successfully convinced three Penn cops that the music from his house party was actually a seismic event: ROCK ON! To the guy who rides the scooter with the wheels that light up: did you lose your sneakers that light up? To Ashton Kutcher: hey FUCK YOU MAN! You think you can just NOT show up to speak? At PENN no less?? Who do you think you are?! I oughta… wait, what’s that? Oh, so he did show up. Eh, whatever. I have season 4 of That ’70s Show on DVD. I’m good. To the Glee Club: a Latte of your puns sucked more than a poopy flavored espresso. Fuck you. To Commons: please teach my boyfriend your ways. You put in no effort and yet I always feel like I’ve been totally fucked.

SHOUTOUTS

To the professor who referred to a girl in class as a “Gothic Delight”: is that even legal? To 34th Street: I hope this doesn’t even make it into your stupid fucking magazine. To the hot dude from Barcelona: thleep with me? To the bathroom tub that I was dropped in: I may have been unconscious, but thanks for a great birthday.

To Penn: why the fuck can I bursar $1000 worth of skinny double mocha frappuccinos, but I can’t bursar the printing fee for my seven page English essay?

To the poopy monster of third floor VP: I know who you are and I respect your work. To my freshman year roommate: my 2 year old cousin called and she wants her easy bake oven back. To the Excelano Project: if I hear one more poem about how you are starting to hate the process of writing, I am going to get META tatted on my fist and hit you in the face with it. This is not a metaphor.

To my ex–hook up that told me I need to learn how to have more fun: please elaborate on that as I open ANOTHER snapchat of you alone on a ferris wheel.

To Red Sox fans: you’re still angry little people from a terrible city. To Castle: thanks for the world’s longest guessing game of “Gay… or European?”

To the gorilla at the gym who slams his weights around: you are the missing link and you belong in the Penn Museum.

To the girl who keeps staring at me in Geology recitation: the guy to your left is cuter. To my slug: all my sluglove.

To the fucking leaves falling off the fucking trees: stop fucking falling.

THE WORST OF SHOUTOUTS FALL 2013 Not all Shoutouts are created equal. From the banal to the bizarre to the really, truly bad, here’s the worst you had to offer this semester. Unedited. Better luck next time. Dear Alpha phi - im trying to get my pussy licked Shoutout to APES for having the most ratchet weed To OWLS: I heard your fat To HipCityVeg: You’re not that hip. Or that veg. To the super senior in Simply Choas, every time i see you i just want to kiss your giant, giant mouth

To my friends abroad: joke’s on you, cuz Penn was fucking awesome this semester! Because... Matthew Perry came? And, um...you know, halloween happened too. Did I mention Matthew Perry came? So...yea. Hurry back. Jerks. To my big, I’m LITERALLY in love with my big To everyone, I’m LITERALLY in love with my big.

To art history majors: wow, y’all really suck

To all of Penn: X gonna give it ya

Shout out to Pi Lam for being so open and loving

To all the white straight men, the coven is coming.

To Pilam: lol

To VP security, what are you looking for in my backpack??!?

To Glee Club: Yikes. Shoutout to the College kids always in Huntsman, you don’t even go here

it’s always a good time at pulse

Shoutout to my butthole for being cleaner than usual. BLONDE GIRL ON LONGBOARD LET ME LOVE YOU To Houston Hall, WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR HUMUS To flaccid penises: you’re fucking weird. To Buzzfeed, you’re the reason my GPA is terrible

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SHOUTOUTS BY THE NUMBERS GREEK CHAMPS

HOT TOPICS

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Shoutouts Submitted: 900 Shoutouts Accepted: 120 Shoutout Acceptance Rate: 13.3% Penn Acceptance Rate: 12.2% person in your class (28)

PEE