Reader’s note: This story is satirical in nature and published in a spoof issue.

Hi, I have to tell you guys something. I read The Hot Shit like every time it comes out and it’s soooo frustrating to read because you put a bunch of articles in here that clearly are biased. Maybe you miss editing a page each issue? Because all of the articles are on one page with a cartoon and seriously don’t show both sides of the story. It’s not fair to put opinionated pieces in a newspaper when you claim you’re objective and fair to everyone. You guys should probably take some journalism classes or something. You’re not supposed to use “I” and “we” in articles, duh! I know because in my classes I always do that and then get points off. Every time I complain about a story to the news editors they always direct me to someone dealing with this page, but I think the staff should all take responsibility for these clearly biased stories.

Jenny Springbreaker, a freshman, is majoring in spending Daddy’s money.

When tempted to doubt the reality of his life and the enlightenment discovered within, the Buddha touched his hand to Earth and Earth shook in response. This past January, 12 members of the GW community had a similar experience. We were participants of an service trip to Guayaquil, Ecuador. Our trip was one of 13 trips organized this year by student leaders and staff. Our particular trip differed, however, from all other trips in that our hosts in Ecuador focused our experience on the “service of being” before the “service of doing.” The service of being we experienced emphasized two areas: the service of being in the moment and the service of being with those in our community. First, the service of being in the moment encouraged and nurtured our ability to experience the “now” versus the “now what.”

We felt real… as real as the Buddha who called Earth as his witness when all else felt like an illusion. Earth also shook in response to our being there, as if to welcome us home from an illusion fabricated in cyberspace and grounded in a fear for knowing who we were and who our neighbor truly was… We were no longer better at doing than the “poor” with whom we lived, even though we were still so clearly entrenched in our material triumphs. Rather, we were equals in being… all capable, all successful and all worthy. We re-entered a world of universal deserving and belovedness… a world where the service of doing naturally springs forth from the service of being… a world where compassion for all human kind is no longer a disguise for power and control but rather a vehicle for embracing an authentic imperative to serve.

Earth Love, a chill dude, was enjoying his Ecuadorian souvenirs when writing this letter.

I’m writing to share my disgust with GW. This morning, as I was waking up for my first class – a brutal 12:45 p.m. intro lecture – I discovered I was given the finger by the University whose salary I like pay, dude. Instead of a quad in South Hall, the University moved me and my bros in an Ivory quad. What the fuck? I pay GW $50,000 a year and I deserve something better than an Ivory quad. The two bathrooms are hardly enough to accommodate all the boot-and-rallying my roommates and I plan to do our senior year. And no single bedrooms? I’m a senior, GW… I’m way over sexiling my roommate when I bring back freshman biddies. I need my own room. Thankfully, having dealt with GW’s bullshit for three years, I know the cure. Housing, expect a call from my father’s secretary tomorrow.

Broder Lager, a junior, is ready to stick it to the man.