Point: Find Friendships in People, Not Politics
Written by someone with no backbone
Editor's note: I was supposed to link the original article, but I got distracted by a butterfly. It was a beautiful creature; hypnotizing and titillating. It is Monarch season, after all. It brought me to its colony, where the butterflies worshipped me as their queen. I was suckled upon like a sweet summer flower, and, in exchange for my boy-nectar, one of the great Mysteries of the world was revealed to me. This is all to say: you will not find The Lariat in Nirvana. The Rope, however, is greatly blessed, like the suckling monarchs probing my pores probiscis-wise.
Oh, I think I just made honeysuckle in my flower pot.
Counter Point: AAAAAHHHHHHH
Written by Bro. Bass NoZe Shop
Reading the Lariat makes me want to tear my eyeballs out of their sockets and self-immolate in front of their Castellaw office like an angry Tunisian street vendor. Seriously, who did y’all consult to write this? I can only imagine those poor Lariat staff writers jerking each other off to kumbayas and shedding a single, lonesome tear of joy when all those celebrities sang lines from Imagine by John Lennon.
In the interest of fairness: yes, when we were kids it was easy to bond over things like games and superheroes. That’s what kids are like. They don’t have real problems that require real political solutions, like how to get everyone in the country to think like you. The Lariat can write from Wonderland where pixie dust and happy thoughts make you fly and the lost boys never grow up, but those of us on the ground can only really bond with friends in one of two ways–politics or illegal substances. And baby, I’m all out of substances.
I thought the Lariat was supposed to be relevant! I swear on my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother’s grave, if another white person at a Baptist private school tries to rehash this chumpfuckass political discourse about reaching across the fucking aisle one more fucking time I am literally going to tear my fucking skin from my fucking face, then I’m going to fucking eat it and vomit it back up on your fucking stoop.
I hate the Lariat. Everything they put out sounds like it was shat onto their website by Chat GPT on molly. Why am I getting these in my email? All of these ridiculous headlines crowding out my inbox. I have professors to ignore! If I get another email in my box I am going to take a [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] LITERALLY ALL OVER YOUR GODDAMN [REDACTED] [REDACTED] AND [REDACTED] [REDACTED] UNTIL EVERY [REDACTED] IN MY [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] IF ITS THE LAST FUCKING THING I DO!!!
That’s all though. Hope we can still be friends! ❤️😘