Category Archives: Dorm Life

Black Sheep Banquet: Angsty Family Haters Hold Annual Meeting

On Thursday, Angsty Family Haters held their fifth annual Black Sheep Banquet for those too overwhelmed with angst to even consider going home, gosh.
Unlike many students for whom the trip would be financially unfeasible, these angst ridden mostly freshmen passed up the opportunity to eat a family meal at a friend’s house in Metairie or at an RA-lead meal in favor of bellyaching together.
The meeting was held in Warren, which was the only place not already taken over by more festive events. The possum who fell through the ceiling was in attendance, saying, “My family is the whole reason I fell through the ceiling. I was so sick of their shit I had to leave.”
The humans in attendance fell into three factions: middle children, the misunderstood, and “college has changed me.” The event was run potluck style. The middle children brought homemade cookies, which were completely forgotten about because the misunderstood had attempted to make kale into a dessert. The changed brought nothing because after an anthropology class most of them had taken they really began to question potlucks as an institution.
“I feel like I’ve found my people,” said some freshman. This writer thinks she then said something about feeling overshadowed at family holidays, but it was boring so I stopped listening.
One participant brought his artwork. “My family just doesn’t get my work. My mom’s always just like. ‘Oh that’s nice.’ It’s a meta examination of the deconstruction of post modernist theories of the commoditization of art. Get it?” It was a lump of clay with a coupon sticking out.
“I mean, I could go for some mashed potatoes,” said the president Lenny something. “Whatever, Thanksgiving is a racist holiday anyway, and so are potatoes.”



Tulane Villagers Fear Mysterious Curse of “Rain”

As a wet substance fell from the heavens over the weekend, Tulane villagers were seen huddled inside of their cottages, cowering from the phenomenon known to Western scientists as “rain.”

“I do not know what this is. Perhaps a scourge from the days of old, haunting me from my home village of the Land of Cleve” said freshman Isabel Citadel from her rudimentary shelter known as ‘Patterson.’ “This heaven-water makes little sense to me” continued Citadel, citing the presence of palm trees, previously sunny weather, and her total ignorance of spring weather patterns in southern Louisiana.

As the watery curse sent villagers into a frenzy, many lamented the plague of precipitation through written word, attaching scribed parchment to the town Yak, and guiding the beast from household to household. “Oh lord, what be this wet shit? I believèd I have come to New Orleans for sunshine, not these sky-droplets,” read one note attached to the yak. Another popular note read, “Doth any maiden wish to watch Netflix and cuddle? For I am a lonesome squire :(((((.” The hieroglyph that followed this note is believed by anthropologists to signal “intense sadness.”

Although the presence of rain baffled younger members of the village, more wisened villagers were familiar with such occurrences and were happy to pass down oral histories. “Ah yes, I know of this rain,” said senior Tyler Lenol while chugging a mug of meade. “Tis that stuff which comes down and marks the changing of the seasons.” Lenol also noted that the rains signaled the beginning of the festival of Crawfest, “which continues to be inauspiciously planned during the only goddamn time of the year it rains.”

While Tulane villagers remained confused and fearful of the water falling from the sky, primitive inhabitants of the neighboring community of ‘Loyola’ were similarly confused by the existence of water falling from showerheads.

Greenbaum Cooking Demonstration Will Feature “Legendary Pot Brownies”

In a Jackie Rouege-approved event to occur Tuesday, the Goldring Center kitchen in Greenbaum dorm will feature a cooking demonstration entitled “Riding the Green Wave: Pot Brownies and You.” Rouege hopes to improve the visibility of the Center’s food research by combining two Tulane favorites: “being a fatass and gettin stoney baloney.”

“Goldring Center’s brownies use the most pure form of bud I’ve ever tried,” said Rouege who reported being “blazed out of my gourd” at the time of interview. “The brownies melt in your mouth, and then your mouth melts into your throat, and then your throat melts into your lungs and you keep melting until you’re forced make peace with the God-King of gravity.”

The Center’s brochure features half-peeled bananas and chefs tossing quinoa salads, but the true culinary gem isn’t featured in the school’s pamphlet. Past attempts at programming for the Center have been well-intentioned but ultimately low attended. “No one wants to learn how to incorporate greens into your diet on a shoe-string budget, they just want to know how incorporate greens into their three-chamber bong without anything looking suspicious on Venmo,” said a giggling Rouege before looking panicked while a police siren went by. The Goldring Culinary Center hopes that attendance will surpass their most popular event thus far: a kissing booth with Oz.

President Fitts has been taking a hands-on approach in order to raise the profile of this cutting-edge facility, and indulges frequently in “Boot Dorm Brownies.” Raffi Real, a spokesperson for the president’s office confirmed the story. “He poured out his heart and soul into his words, and his words poured out of his mouth and filled the entire room, and the room lifted off and pranced into the smallest corners of the galaxy.” President Fitts, a true fan of the program, can be usually found doing somersaults in his office and wondering if Gibson can see anything from him

Freshman Accidentally Joins Street Gang Instead of Fraternity

In a classic, “Only at Tulane, Only in New Orleans” mix-up, freshman Steven Morris recently discovered that he was accepted into the “Voodoo Boyz” gang, instead of the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity he intended to rush. The situation has been a hot topic of conversation, between both Interfraternity Council members and groups of guys shootin’ the shit outside Rite Aid. The Vignette secured an interview with Morris (now known as Blaze FivestarSwag) so he could attempt to explain the situation.

“You know, looking back on it I probably should have realized the guys I was hanging out with were not members of a Tulane fraternity. First of all they call each other ‘bruh’ instead of brother, and rush week was all about selling weed. Then, when I asked about GPA requirements, one of the bruhs responded ‘Yeah yeah we got GPA–Ganja Pushing Assessments,’” recalled Blaze as he adjusted the baggy, salmon-colored shorts that reached his ankles.

“The biggest sign I missed though was probably when they invited me to chill at their ‘trap house.’ It wasn’t until I got there I realized they meant trap house in the, ‘we sell crack cocaine’ sort of way and not the, ‘wanna-be fuckboy’ kind of way. Saying that out loud makes me wonder if these guys even actually go to Tulane…”

Blaze went on to explain that regardless of the legality of the Voodoo Boyz, he is happy with his newfound Bruhhood. He spoke highly of gang kingpin, Voodoo TopDoll, who promised to hook him up with some “real time connects in the biz” once Blaze proved his worth on the streets.

“Voodoo thinks I got potential, ya know for initiation I banged out some fool outside Snake & Jake’s and took his Benjamins” reported Blaze. “Only problem was the punk only had 7 bucks. I gotta put in more work if I wanna be top doll one day.” Blaze ended the interview by adding “Shoutout to my boy Biggie SmallHands, hope you get out real soon bruh we be missin’ yo little fingers back at the dollhouse.”

Blaze seemed unconcerned about losing out on fraternity-sorority connections, reciting Jay-Z’s lyric “I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one” when The Vignette brought up the topic. Finally, when asked how joining the Voodoo Boyz could coexist with his daily life at Tulane, Blaze responded “Fuck roll wave, Imma roll j’s.”

Student Gets Top Yik Yak, Decides To Pursue Writing Career

Last Wednesday evening proved to be very fruitful for sophomore Michael Goldblum. Michael wasn’t expecting much when he Yik-Yakked, “So high not even God can touch me.” But what started out as an ordinary Yak, quickly turned into a life calling for this inspired student.

“I mean at first I was just flattered,” Michael explained from his Phelps “inspiration den” (the bathroom). “Once I started getting into the 80’s for upvotes though, that’s when I realized I have a gift. My parents don’t really understand, but I don’t expect them to. The life of an artist is a lonely, misunderstood one.”

Due to the anonymity of Yik Yak, Michael has had trouble gaining the recognition he desires. When a randomly selected student was interviewed about Michael he responded, “Who? Oh, I remember that Yak, I read that while I was shitting in the LBC. I chuckled.”

Michael has resorted to guerilla marketing strategies as a means of getting noticed. His most recent tactic was to sit outside PJ’s and yell, “Pssst! So high not even God can touch me, right? Funny stuff, right?” to confused customers, while winking fiercely.

One of Michael’s friends and suitemates, Connor Wilson, is starting to get fed up with Michael’s behavior. “He just sits in his room and alternates between smoking weed and cigarettes. But whenever I ask him to hang out, he claims he’s busy and that I wouldn’t understand because I’m not a writer.”

Michael was last seen in front of the arts building, wearing all black and drinking whiskey to “combat the troubles of a tortured artist.”

Tulane Electronic Dance Music Services (TEDMS) Turn Back of Ambulance into Rave

With the upcoming Gambit rankings of the best nightclubs in the city, Tulane Electronic Dance Music Service (TEDMS), the TEMS ambulance turned nightclub, hopes to be in consideration for the top spot.

Senior Graham Fisher, the guy who turns on the TEMS ambulance siren, is the medical genius behind Tulane’s freshest dance trend. He describes his sound as a “daft puke-y mix of life-threatening emergencies and samples that are as fucking sick as his passengers.”

“I really got into it my junior year,” continued Fisher, “it all started this one time, when I turned on the siren and the guy we were transporting kept yelling about how rad that drop was.”

Over the past year, the club has evolved to become a quintessential part of the TEMS experience. Fisher went on to explain, “We rewired the ambulance light so it flashes on the inside to create a funky acid-house atmosphere. Dancing is old news, shit, my grandma did that—tequila shots and gurney dancing is where it’s at. ”

Sophomore Hannah Phelps praised the club, saying, “I got TEMS’d quite a few times freshman year, and it was kinda cool, but nothing I’d really look forward to. Now every Friday I get shitfaced at FAQ so I can go straight to TEDMS. It’s just the safest place to do Molly.”

Not everyone is a fan of the new nightclub though. Freshman John Coveney complained, “I broke my wrist in a flag football game yesterday, but when I got into the ambulance everyone was all sweaty and dancing to this ‘wub wub’ music. I got so overwhelmed I started crying and the TEMS guy just said, ‘Can you be a little louder? I’m tryna sample that shit.””

Girl Went as a Cat for Halloween, Can’t Stop

This Halloween, sophomore Margaret Nelson wanted to throw it back to a classic costume and go as a black cat.

“But, like, I wasn’t one of those girls who wore a cheetah print shirt from the back of her closet, made it slutty and called it a day, I was waaaaay different. I had a black leotard and black tights and I drew whiskers and a cat nose on my face with eyeliner! And get this: I even wore cat ears,” explained Nelson as she pulled out a picture of herself, a tiger, and catwoman on Frenchman street.

Since that night, Nelson has not taken off the ensemble. Nearly two weeks after Halloween, Nelson still dutifully draws on her whiskers and nose every morning before class and retrieves her cat ears from their shelf in her Warren bathroom. Her friends are becoming concerned.

“I mean it was definitely weird at first,” said Nelson’s suitemate Rae Abbott, “but it’s only gotten weirder. She sleeps in that leotard and tights. A couple days ago we tried to talk to her about it but she just hissed at us and hid behind a curtain.”

According to Tulane psychology professor Gary Margarine, Nelson could be compensating for the recent loss of her cat Sushi. “In extreme cases of grief, people sometimes try to find things to replace their loved ones. I just worry that Ms. Nelson is beyond the point of no return. There is a chance she could remain like this forever,” Professor Margarine gravely explained as a single tear ran down his cheek (“I’m allergic to cats.”).

But according to Greta Scheinberg, the chair of the Voodoo department, there may be another explanation for Nelson’s activities: “Voodoo?”

“Oh, wait yeah it was probably Voodoo,” purred Nelson. “I chanted ‘All hail Bastet, the might God of campus cats’ under a full moon in the Carrollton graveyard after finishing off my vodka/gin/sprite-filled water bottle. I felt the spirit go inside of me and now I can’t get it out no matter what I do.” Nelson can be found chasing birds on the Sophomore Quad and staring at herself in the mirror for hours whispering ‘what have I done.’



Student Enters Aron, Never Seen Again

Three days ago, October 21, sophomore student Rod Higgins filed a missing persons report for his good friend Bobby Paterson, who has not been seen since entering Aron, Tulane’s tenement-style dorms, at the beginning of the year.

“It was going to be great, he said I could come over whenever,” reported a worried Higgins in his report. “He kept bragging about having a full kitchen, that he would never have to leave. Then as soon as we got to school, it’s like he dropped off the face of the planet. No texts, no phone calls, no facebook updates. I don’t know what to think.”

Higgins went looking for his friend when he stopped responding, “It wasn’t human. As I walked up to the complex, the iron bars creaked open to show the overgrowth of what was inside. The plants hadn’t been cut in year, when I walked in, it was like the sun hadn’t shined in years. I walked into my friend’s apartment and knew immediately something was wrong. The light fixtures were flickering and hanging from the ceiling… the walls were painted with glow in the dark finger paint… I heard muttering coming from a room to the right, and when I looked closer I saw what looked like a feral child scratching a table wearing nothing but a singlet whispering to himself ‘good is what happy does’. When I got closer we made eye contact, and he scurried into a vent in the floor. I got out of there quick.”

Tulane officials speculate that the reason for this state may be the Green Wave football teams latest victory, as a winning season is one of the signs of the apocalypse.

Tulane Bait Bikes Now Feature Ejector Seats

In an effort to maintain awareness about bike theft on campus, the Tulane University Police Department has revealed that the bait bikes are “tricked out” with ejector seats. “We’re really excited about these seats,” said officer Franklina Weiss, head of campus safety. “TUPD usually sees Tulane students at their worst: throwing parties, smoking weed in dorms that obviously don’t have the right kind of ventilation, public urination, knife fights, the list goes on. You can imagine that the force is very excited to be starting a program that sends thieving little good-for-nothings flying through space.”

The bait bike program started last year as a ways to discourage bike theft on campus. TUPD originally installed GPS devices on the bikes, but according to a TUPD insider, the program “boring as shit.” The new bikes are capable of throwing an average-sized Tulane student at least 100 feet in the air. “We put a bunch of them outside of first-year dorms because how cool would it be to see one of those tiny freshmen girls on the top of Monroe,” said officer Weiss, barely able to contain her glee.

“My gold Lexus was all the way in Diboll,” reported Phelps resident Courtney Glibman. “I didn’t feel like walking all the way over so, yeah, I stole a bike. Sue me.” Glibman remembers waking up in the Aron quad and is not being sued on account of her family’s excellent lawyers.

Poll Reveals Tulane Students’ Favorite Food: Bruff Omelets, Adderall Top List

In a poll conducted by Sodexo regarding Tulane students’ food preferences , university students resoundingly chose Bruff omelets as their favorite food, followed very closely by Adderall. Bruff, has been serving omelets every morning since it opened in 1963. “I get Bruff omelets three or four times a week,” says Sophomore Pete Peterson, “they’re delicious and they keep me really regular.”

Coming in close second in the poll was Adderall, a stimulant drug used to manage ADHD. Adderall very narrowly beat out Ritalin, Vyvanse, Focalin, and Concerta.

“Adderall is one of things that are good and good for you—that’s pretty much why I like it so much” gushed Freshman Jennifer Gates, who has not slept in three days. “When I have a big test or a paper coming up, I take a lot of Adderall. I guess you could call it stress eating” she said, laughing hysterically before staring at a spot on the wall for twenty-five minutes without blinking. When asked her opinion Bruff Omelets, Jennifer admitted that she couldn’t remember the last time she ate something, and proceeded to pass out from dehydration.


Boot Pizza, Zapp’s Potato Chips and Marijuana rounded off the top five list.