Tonight’s the night. You’ve spent the last grueling week studying for your midterms, dismissing trivial things such as meals and hygiene. The stress is graying you prematurely and you have a twitch in your eye. Tonight, you’re going to treat yourself: scented candles, R. Kelly in the background, imported Vietnamese oils and your cache of underwater foot fetish videos. As you get into your rhythm of vigorously spanking it, the internet cuts out.
Drinking has a bad rap. Can one writer fight against decades of prejudice to create a better, drunker world?
Reporter rises up in arms for and against RIT students. Tough love, baby!
RIT accepts all students, regardless of ability to house them. Students are living in a shantytown along the quarter mile as their roommates vote them out.
Looking good just got a lot more affordable — and morally flexible.
The RIT coffee shops were once peaceful nations, but a recent rivalry has flung them all into a violent struggle. When an all-out war breaks out between cafés, no one will be safe from the caffeinated carnage.
Tuition money is used as fuel for the weather machine.
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"Why would anyone willingly put this in their mouth?" I ask myself as I smelled the foul-looking mushrooms sitting in my hand. The drugs look daunting, and I'm concerned about how I will react to taking shrooms for the first time. I read up on the drugs beforehand, and I have a sober friend with me to ensure that I was safe and taken to the hospital if I had a bad reaction. I look fearfully at my friend during my long pause of consideration.
Everything we simply adore about our alma mater.
Picture this: You look up, and it’s you. Exiting the library, walking down the Quarter Mile, you watch them as they slide by unnoticed. You have met your doppelgänger. While before you lived your life in peaceful ignorance, there is no going back. Now that you have noticed them, they will turn up seemingly wherever you go. Slowly, your doppelgänger becomes aware of you as well.
BREAKING NEWS — We are all undoubtedly familiar with RIT's distinguished President Wrestler. And I'm sure each and every one of you with a middle-aged soccer moms is familiar with the smooth, soulful rhythms of William Tiger, jazz banjoist. The local legend's hypnotic chords and mellow demeanor have dominated the haunts of elderly and elder-to-be alike for years now.
Ah, Career Fair. A day of opportunity, of wonder, of wardrobe malfunctions. A day of opportunities lost, of frantically modifying your resume at one in the morning, of really long lines for companies you've never heard of. Once upon a time, companies had to go through all the effort of taking your resume, pretending to read it — maybe even interviewing you — before ultimately shredding your resume and forgetting all about you.
Rochester is cold, so get all your nerve endings removed. Think about it: you can’t get cold if you can’t feel anything. Not only that, but you’ll never hurt yourself stubbing your toe or feel what it’s like to hold your own son or daughter or to have sex. Not that it’s important, you go to RIT; you’re not having sex anyway.
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RIT is known for its long-storied past of brutal lake-effect winters. From December to March we are battered with snow and sub-zero temperatures, but we have one savior: our champion RIT Snow Plowing team. The RIT Plowing Team has been the National Champion since 1983. They are the number-one plowing team in the world, beating out the Soviet Union and Canada every year. RIT has a plowing record that is almost perfect.
When Reporter launched in 1951, it had one goal: to provide staunchly conservative "news" with aggressive, questionable authority. Today, we're proud to announce that we're one step closer to achieving that goal. We can finally unveil something that's been in the works at the Reporter offices for quite some time now: Reporter has (finally) merged with 21st Century Fox.
“If I could dance to, on or at anyone instead of talking to them, I would,” said Dan C. Fiend, soon to be the first-ever Interpretive Dance student at RIT, before refusing to answer any of my following questions without exaggerated body movements.
Life is a fucking nightmare.
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The universe is an incessantly cruel place, devoid of answers and offering only cold, relentless silence as a retort to our most daunting questions. What is the meaning of life? Is there a God? What is the secret to happiness? Who the fuck is the black guy in Hot Tub Time Machine 2 and what kind of monster were these pills designed for?
The following responses were leaked from an undisclosed source. They were written in response to petitions on the website PawPrints, but were apparently never published. The veracity of the following has yet to be confirmed. We should have more butter pecan ice cream. I like butter pecan ice cream.
In the aftermath of the brutally cold winter of 2015, which included the coldest February on record that Rochester has ever experienced, there has recently been much discussion over ways to survive the freezing weather. One of the possible solutions that has resulted in equal amounts of derision and enthusiasm is a petition filed to secede Rochester from New York to Florida.
With our natural glitter reserves at an all-time low, our country is facing its greatest challenge.