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Undercover

Maybe I’m getting old too soon. I’m going to bed at a reasonable time. My back feels like someone put their foot through it. I’m even starting to hate new music—the telltale sign of an aging asshole. The other night, I stayed for one opener

Undercover

The Cave of Shame The Sentry bathroom is a cave of lost virtues. Despite being on the second floor, it’s the kind of  underground cavity that medieval knights had to venture through to test their character. My character was tested when I opened the door

Undercover

The Rule of Three I‘m approaching this semester like a ghost pepper. After a season on stress and anger, I need to be cautious about how I treat myself and others. The two are closely intertwined, and as soon as you make a decision with

Undercover

To fight a dragon I’ve been on a herring kick lately. It’s cheaper than tuna and as healthy as all hell. I’ve explored all my myriad options as I go. There’s the all important pickled herring, herring in tomato sauce, fried herring, smoked herring, herring

Undercover

Don’t Tread on Me At my other job I get to control the music all day. My shop sells kratom, a Southeast Asian tree that some opiate users take to kick prescription opiates. I work, more or less, in a closet. My little nook is

Undercover

Sweet Release There’s a masturbator in the bathroom connected to the Sentry office. The bathroom is also open to the third floor of the Tivoli, meaning anyone can walk in from outside. We’ve often wished that our bathroom was private, and this intruder is only

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What the Devil? While watching The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina on Netflix, I’m reminded of the blatant misappropriation of pagan culture. I wasn’t surprised when one of the character’s pronounced Samhain “sam-hayn” rather than “sow-in.” All it would take is to read the first sentence

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The Hanged Man Last week, I left a concert earlier than I had intended. I’d had fun but my boyfriend and I had agreed it was time to go. I apologized to a friend who was playing later that night and traded her a drink

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Writing Ahead Hemingway said, “write until you come to a place where you still have your juice and know what will happen next.” While I’ve always taken this advice when I write I often wonder how these words apply, if at all, to real life.

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Hail Mary Don’t ever ask yourself the question: how will I survive after college? The fit of terror, anxiety, and depression that follows won’t do you any favors. Monday night, I lay in bed, wondering how the hell I was going to pay the rent