Category Archives: New Orleans

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.

Op-Ed by the President: Vignette Representation of Quakers is Nuanced and Respectful

After I pressed send on my latest “View from Gibson” describing my attendance at the Shabbat, only one thing was running through my head: “Hey I wonder what kind of janky photoshop images will come from this announcement.” The Vignette understands that the image of a Quakers shouldn’t be limited to oatmeal packaging: I’m actually violently allergic to oatmeal and I am breaking out into hives just typing this op-ed. Quakers are doctors, lawyers, and Oprah impersonators. We’re husbands, neighbors, grandmothers, and sometimes all three of those things at once. We invented the Cadbury egg. We invented Pennsylvania. Fricking Herbert Hoover was a Quaker. It’s nice to know that the Vignette writers are making the most of the $20 that gets allocated to the history department every year.

Throughout my schooling and into my professional career I was teased mercilessly for two things: not crying enough and being a Quaker. While I’ve made steps to change the first thing, I will never be ashamed of my Quaker identity. I only hope that one day, all newspapers will have the tact and historical literacy of the Vignette.

Prez Fitts in Quaker History!


Big Fittsy as William PennPresident....Hoover???

Tulane Senior Finally Meets Someone from Louisiana

Yesterday, February 9th, senior Kevin Freet finally had the pleasure of meeting what he called “a certified Cajun real-life Louisianianana…”. While getting out of his car in Diboll, Freet noticed that the adjacent car’s license plate had a strange bird on it. “I asked what kind of dinosaur it was and it turns out it is a ‘pelican,’ the official state dinosaur of Louisiana.”

Freet’s new friend is named Brent Ng, a native of Slidell. “Yeah, I’m the token Louisiana-native for a lot of different groups. I tell them all what to wear for Mardi Gras, how much the streetcar cost, and where to pick up high school chicks on parade routes.” Ng added that his Northern friends, “teach me how to shop for winter coats and be an unapproachable asshole.”

Tulane is known for its geographic diversity. The class of 2018 boasts more students from New York and California than Louisiana. “Yeah, I got friends from all over,” reported Freet. “I’m from Jersey myself, but my friends are from everywhere. Outside of New York, outside of Philly, southern Connecticut, northern Delaware, and western Long Island. We even have one kid in the crew from the South, all the way down in Alexandria, Virginia! We call him ‘Southern Dan.’ He’s always cold, haha!”

Freet, a finance major, met every single one of his friends freshman year in Sharp and prefers to spend his time around campus bars, although they did venture out into the city once. “Yeah we tried to go to the Marigny one time, but we ended up in ‘the Metairie.’ It was still very jazzy, very authentic.” said Freet, who once spent a semester abroad in Madrid without meeting a single Spaniard.

Student Drinks Boot out of Business at Fifty Cent Night

    “The Boot”, once voted number one college bar in America, sadly closed its doors last Tuesday after sophomore Nick Harlow took enough fifty-cent shots to run the bar out of business.


“He took four million shots. Four million fucking shots dude– it was unreal: kid just kept knocking them back, that’s why he’s my boy. He’s a fucking champ, undefeated 4 million and 0,” said Harlow’s best friend and blossoming alcoholic Cole Melling. According to former Boot staff members, the bar loses about a quarter per shot, and their failure to throw Harlow out led to the million-dollar loss.


Harlow entered The Boot at 10 pm for the start of fifty cent night with a chip on his shoulder and an emptiness in his stomach that longed for excessive amounts of cheap fireball. He knew this was his night. Within an hour he had taken 2 million shots, and the Boot staff began to get nervous. The Tuesday night bartender, Chad Tannerson, recalled the situation: “We had to call up the fighter jets over at Jack Daniels to refuel; we had to get some fireball airdropped on the premises. The Boot was not about to go down without a fight. We do not negotiate with alcoholics.”


Once midnight struck, Harlow, 3 million shots deep, showed no signs of slowing down. Besides occasionally screaming about how he’s “The King of Boots!” and his tendency to fall out of his stool whenever friends left his side to pursue freshmen girls, Harlow was in control of himself, The Boot and all of New Orleans. The staff had to remove him. The Boot’s loyal patrons, not keen on seeing the historic night come to an end, circled around him to protect their savior from the army of attacking bouncers. The bouncers charged, but could not penetrate the wall of Vineyard Vine button-downs, distasteful crop tops and sexual frustration surrounding the hero. Eventually, the men at Jack Daniels refused to airdrop any more whisky after the Boot ran out of money, and was soon after forced to file bankruptcy.


The Boot, which was once the site of an accursed Indian burial ground, fell into bedlam. Nobody really remembers what happened next, but Yik Yak reports the scene was reminiscent of the fall of the Berlin Wall.


One Boot staff member recounted the chaos, “It was a fucking mess, we had no idea how to handle this kid. We were on the edge of bankruptcy, so in a last ditch attempt to salvage the company we reached out to the best in the business biz; but by the time we got to the graduate B-school and woke up all the sleeping Asians, it was too late.”


A candlelight vigil will be held in Delta Iota Kappa’s fraternity house. The Boot will be razed. A variety of developers have come of for solutions for the empty lot including: the site of a giant statue of Scott Cowan grabbing his balls, a space for Crepes a la Cart to expand so it can finally make some real goddamn pancakes, and for the site to stay under construction for 10 years like every other building in New Orleans that isn’t a football stadium.

Student Group Fights to Legalize Blow Jobs

After learning on his newsfeed that blowjobs are actually technically illegal in the state of Louisiana, junior Bobby Walker decided to take matters into his own hands. Walker’s , Blowjobs: Always, Everywhere (BAE) has one goal: “to educate people about literally the worst thing that’s ever happened in Louisiana.”  BAE has planned lobbying events and other events to raise its profile. A  ‘blow in’ in Baton Rouge was scheduled for next week, but the members of BAE sadly reported that they couldn’t find enough participants who weren’t “totally lame.” “We’re a lot like Divest,” claimed BAE President Walker, “except we love blowjobs and also I don’t know what Divest it.”

The law, which is not currently being enforced by any legal entity, “is totally ruining our lives,” said Walker. The law also controversially bans gay sex, but the men of BAE appeared unfamiliar with such provisions. “If we ain’t talking blowies I don’t want to talk,” said BAE treasurer Graham Brooks, who has never talked to a girl in a non-group project setting.

The members of BAE come from all grades and social backgrounds, but they all seem to share similar sentiments. “Louisiana’s RS 14:89 section 89 is unfair and causing us to live in fear” proclaimed Tony Bayton, who is unaware that the law was rendered unconstitutional by the Supreme Court in Lawrence v. Texas.
The club meets almost every day to talk about their mission. “It’s the most of any org,” said SOC student worker Margaret Finlay, “they just sit over there and keep saying how they want to ‘enact real change.’” “Oh yeah , we really want to enact real change” said Walker as he glanced at his dick and then over at Finlay, “reeeaal change….”

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.”

Freshmen Excited To Show Off New Orleans-centric Personality to Friends, Family Over Thanksgiving

With the Thanksgiving holiday coming up, Pat Callahan, a freshman here at Tulane, can’t wait to go home and catch up with his “Yankee” friends.


“Ooh boy, I just can’t wait to go home”, said Callahan, from what he calls his “Shotgun” Sharp dorm. “its gonna be great to just hang out with my friends after so long. I mean, I’ve learned so much living in New Orleans, I just feel like a local.”


“Its just like, hey, I know y’all [Callahan’s friends and relatives] are just a bunch of fast-talkin’, fast-walkin’ Yankees, but I got the voodoo spirit of NOLA running through my veins, so why don’t y’all come down ‘Naaawlins way and I’ll show you a real pot of gumbo” said Pat, speaking in a noticeable cajun accent. “The boudin is hot, but the jazz is hotter. Mardi Gras!”


In only three months time, Pat has not only vomited on Bourbon Street like a true local, but has worn Mardi Gras beads every day since arriving.


“Do I love New Orleans? Well, allow me to answer that question with another question. Do the Pelican love mudbugs? Do the cypress grow tall and strong? Yes sir, I love New Orleans. It’s as much of a part of me as the resurrection fern that grows thick on the oaks. Who Dat!”


After approximately three minutes of chanting “Who Dat” to no one in particular, Callahan proceeded to don a tall top hat decorated with bones, and started playing “When The Saints go Marching In” on a trumpet.


“It ain’t always easy though”, Callahan said woefully. “We still feel the pain that hurricane Kristina [Katrina] dumped on our doorsteps. But with the bayou spirit, and just a bit of jambalaya, I know we can all make it through”, said Callahan, while standing upon a large float and twirling a frilly umbrella.


“Well, I best be going now. As they say, I got a lot of beignets to eat, but I only got so much powdered sugar. Besides, Saint Jean Lafitte deBayoux Carondelet [Callahan’s pet alligator] needs walking. Laissez les bon temps rouler!”

Jonah Hill Just Here for Pity Sex

Movie star Jonah Hill sat down yesterday with the Vignette to discuss filming his new movie 22 Jump Street on Tulane’s campus. “It’s been crushingly lonely here on set,” laughed funnyman Hill. “Let’s be honest, Channing Tatum is a God among men and I look like someone’s cousin visiting from Brandeis.”

Twenty-nine year old Hill has been seen around campus hob-nobbing with fellow actors Tatum and Ice Cube, shooting scenes all around campus, and desperately trying to get girls to notice him. “I’ve probably spent about a hundred hours at the Boot so far,” Hill revealed with a laugh after finishing his third 40 of the day. “At this point, I’ve started telling girls that I’ll give them Channing’s phone number if they’ll kiss me on the cheek.”

Sophomore Jill Goldfine is one of the many students excited about the star power that 22 Jump Street is bringing to campus. “Jonah Hill? Yeah I think he’s in my Jewish Civ class. He tried to tell me that he met Johnny Depp one time.” Goldfine recounted having asked the Oscar-nominated actor about an upcoming quiz at which point he started silently crying.

For a superstar such as Hill, it’s no surprise that fans flock to him. “I did end up getting with a girl, but it turns out that she thought I was Seth Rogan. She kicked me out of her dorm and I ended up getting lost in Aron and sleeping on one of the benches.”

It’s anyone’s guess as to what’s in store next for the rising star, although Hill has some ideas of his own: “Probably Loyola girls.”

All Other Trees Think Mardi Gras Tree is Attention Whore

According to a recent  poll  of trees around the university’s campus taken by Tulane’s Department of Tree and Bush Life, an astounding 100 percent of other trees think that the Mardi Gras tree is an attention-seeking whore. This represents a twenty-point increase from last month’s poll. The Vignette interviewed several of these other trees to try and make sense of the jump.

“Everyone is just finally starting to see that she’s like, totally overrated,” commented Rachel, a cypress tree with prominent views on the matter. “I mean, she was wearing last season’s beads for a full year. The other trees were starting to notice.”

“I used to think she was cool but then she started acting like a total diva,” remarked Emily, Rachel’s equally opinionated palm tree friend. “Like, people say that I’m just as pretty as her but she really flaunts her shit and that’s why she gets so much attention. It’s all smoke and mirrors.”

The Mardi Gras tree, however, seemed unfazed by this poll when asked to make a statement. “Rachel and Emily have always been jealous of me ever since Daddy decided to get me the limited addition Marc Jacobs beads for Hanukkah. It’s like they can’t get their own life so they have to try and turn everyone against me. Oh well, even bad publicity is good publicity.”

Regardless of the poll, there has been little to no change between the trees’ dynamic. One speculator seems to think that this could be because “talking shit about each other is nothing new in the tree community.” However, a confidential source has divulged that there could be a sex tape scandal in store for the Mardi Gras tree that will really shake things up. Only time will tell if the trees will be able to remain frenemies through all of this.