Not Exactly The Trinity, If You Know What I Mean

Towards the end of our time on cam­pus today, as the line to reg­is­ter bicy­cles extend­ed into the dozens, three extreme­ly cur­va­ceous, biki­ni-clad upper­class­men began sun­bathing in White Plaza in full view of the fresh­man bicy­cle reg­is­tra­tion line. I sup­pose they each want­ed a fresh man. I would not be sur­prised to learn that they accom­plished their goal–at the very least they gave the frosh gals eat­ing dis­or­ders and the frosh guys neck cricks.

Leave a Reply