If you don’t speak the language of hate, you’re going to struggle to know what the hateful words are saying. It’s understandable, if contemptible, that some students didn’t make the effort.
A map of Africa, from floor to ceiling, is the first thing customers see when they walk off Rachel St. and into Le Virunga.
It’s a home, three-floored. You know it well.
“At four in the morning,” he says, “the first couple of pitches were just easy slab but really runout. The first two pitches there was one piece of pro the whole way.”
The cover of this week’s Link is a portrait of the past.
I was conscious, sometimes, of not crying. It’s not just retrospective, like looking back three years ago at the death of my grandfather and saying, “Huh, weird how I didn’t cry.”
“Is this real?” MacArthur asked, gesturing down.
Yes, I said.
“Well I was here five minutes ago with my friend and we went over there and ate some mushrooms,” he said. “And, uh, I came back and all these bikes appeared.”
The Gazette, as a mainstream newspaper, should not use an objective news story as a platform for a one-sided airing of grievances. A piece this biased belongs in the opinions section
The inside of an oil pipeline is essentially hell.
Tepid black sludge pumps through shining steel arteries, pulsing and pushing under the earth—buckling, bending and bracing against soil and rock.
There are three versions of Atomic City, a new Fringe play directed by Sara Rodriguez.
“Alerta! Alerta! Anti-fascista!” chanted the crowd of protesters as they cornered a portly, balding, middle-aged man and his partner.
It goes on. Push. Dodge. Run. Stand. Look. Eventually, in what feels like ages but was actually just two minutes, the Gee-Gees’s seeker gets his mark with a diving roll, and the game is over.
“The aerospace degree shouldn’t be just producing designers,” Marsden says. “There should be people that want to be specialists, academics, all kinds of things."
“It was all very transparent,” she explains. But she won’t say how much the grant was—or the size of the banished debt.
It’s Saturday afternoon, and the Australians are everywhere. There’s one crouched behind me, nine spread across the field, and one straight ahead, whipping a ball at my face.
“That’s just how the metro is.”
If you watch porn, you probably watch it on PornHub, YouPorn, or RedTube. You probably watch it for free.
Good news: we’re saved! The world’s politicians will come together in Paris this month and solve climate change, once and for all. We did it. Good job. Go home, it’s cool.
“Feel it,” she said, taking it out of the packaging. “Isn’t it so lifelike?”
I felt it.
“Feels like a penis,” I said.
“I want you guys to fight for this,” the man onstage said, his amplified voice drowning out the crowd. “Kill each other for this!”
Of all the words Senator Marco Rubio could have used to open the second round of the second Republican debate, “aware” was probably the worst.