Aries (Mar 21- Apr 19): Your moon is moving into Pisces, indicating you may be experiencing trouble with your emotional side. Take a walk, talk to a friend, cry, sleep, cry yourself to sleep. You have many options.


Taurus (Apr 20-May 20): Trouble sleeping? Me too. The stars have no advice for that other than to turn off your phone and to go to bed at a reasonable hour. But what do stars know? They’re just asshole balls of flaming gas, light-years away. They don’t know shit.


Gemini (May 21-Jun 20): Venus is rising! Now is a great time to stalk your crush on Instagram and slide into their DMs. You will accidentally like one of their posts from 263 days ago; don’t panic. Hopefully they won’t even notice…


Cancer (Jun 21-July 22): Reply hazy, try again. No horoscope today. The Stars didn’t have much to say. Better luck next week? Just don’t do anything stupid.


Leo (July 23-Aug 22): If you think your professor hates you, then congratulations! You’re absolutely right! Expect a grade no higher than a D+. I’m not really sure why they hate you so much… Try bringing them cookies one day. No one can be mad with the gift of baked goods. It’s scientifically impossible.


Virgo (Aug 23-Sept 22): Someone liked your Instagram post from 263 days ago?? Weird. Block them and avoid eye contact if you see them in the café. Who does that? Stalkers.


Libra (Sept 23-Oct 22): That cutie in your hall finally noticed you! Ask them out! Or not. Instead, ignore them and get upset when they ignore you back. They’re obviously so into you, based on their refusal to make eye contact. (Maybe they accidentally overheard you and your roommate talking about their butt.)

Scorpio (Oct 23-Nov 21): We are in the peak of Scorpio season; this means you can do whatever you want. Buy that $75 pair of shoes. Ditch all your classes. Steal a clamshell full of cake from the Commons. No one can stop you. (Looking at you, Mom.)


Sagittarius (Nov 22-Dec 21): Three people will mistake your for someone else. Roll with it; your doppelgänger is everyone’s best friend and you’ll get some culinary cash out of it. Spend it wisely.


Capricorn (Dec 22-Jan 19): Your residents haven’t yet caught on to the fact that you’re actually a two hundred year old vampire. Except for that one kid who looks at you strangely whenever you refuse to eat the pizza you ordered for them. They know something. They may have to disappear before the term is out…


Aquarius (Jan 20-Feb 18): Neptune is in retrograde, which means you should be especially careful of whom you tell your secrets to. Some friends may not be as trustworthy as you thought. Suddenly, everyone knows about your secret obsession over Taylor Swift. Good luck.


Pisces (Feb 19-Mar 20): Your RLA has been acting strangely, but no one else seems to notice. Odd sleeping hours, aversion to bright light, aversion to pizza? Who refuses pizza? They’re definitely hiding something.

— Kate Youdell



Student to Build Entire Wardrobe out of Stolen Bon Appetit Uniforms

Quentin Maples, a Lawrence junior and former Bon Appetit student worker, has announced his plans to cultivate a personal fashion style comprised solely of uniforms he nicked from the food service provider.


Apparently, these plans have been in the works for a long time.


“It all started early in fall term of my freshman year,” Maples said, “when I took one of those little black hats home by accident. Then, I went as a Bon App employee for Halloween, and it kind of escalated from there.”


Maples’ collection currently includes 6 black skullcaps, 4 blue polo shirts bearing the Bon Appetit logo, and 3 aprons, plus 2 pairs of black pants that he already owned. He even retained his old nametag after leaving the job. As of right now, Maples says he has never worn any of this in public, rather keeping it all cloistered away in his room as a “kind of battle trophy.”


That will all change, though, in the coming months when Maples will begin to phase out his current clothing in favor of a wardrobe exclusively comprised of Bon Appetit uniforms.


“I think I’m going to start out with just wearing one or two pieces at a time along with my other clothes,” Maples elaborated, “but eventually I’m going to go for the real deal.”


Maples says his decision was not an easy one to make, but he believes this is the right thing for him to do at this time.

“I was getting tired of my current style of thrifted sweaters and harem pants,” he said, “and I want to wear clothes that really make a statement.”


Sources are unclear on what exactly this statement is, but Maples definitely is trying to say something.


As for his process in obtaining the uniforms, Maples explained that “it’s pretty simple, really. Bon App makes us borrow all the uniform components except for our pants and shoes, but they don’t supervise us while we change in and out of them. So, I just would, you know, tuck a shirt into my backpack after a shift and meander away.”


When asked about his long-term goals, Maples said he’d like to start moving into taking the chef’s uniforms out of the combined student worker and kitchen staff locker room, but that for now he’s just focusing on one thing at a time. As it is, expect to see Maples in the near future rocking the exact same outfit worn by every Bon App student employee, but in a different and incredibly edgy context.

— Sophie Penniman


Student Whispers “Why Am I not happy?” Into Fox River

After a rough first term at Lawrence University, Marcus Pocus whispered, “Why am I not happy?” ever so softly into the gargling green waters of the Fox River. His feelings, however, surged when the babbling brook lifted a silvery fish with two heads from the silt below. “Ahh, a sign of bounty!” Pocus exclaimed to himself, as he lifted the glorious Fox’s gift from the water and crammed it into his satchel, before returning to his room to finish his Russian Philosophy reading.

— Sydney DeMets


Tempest Coffee Creates New Middle Finger Latte Art

Appleton, WI- Tempest Coffee, a local artisan coffee shop and popular hangout spot for Lawrentians, has created a new latte art design: the middle finger. According to Mara Stamen, a barista who works part-time at the establishment, the implications of the symbol were unmissed by cafe staff.


“Oh, yeah, we know what it means,” she said. “We just thought that leaves and hearts were starting to feel sort of cliche.”


For Urban Outfitters models, self-proclaimed “free spirits,” and those that dream of visiting Paris but probably will never do so, Tempest Coffee is the place. It boasts a calming, if hyper-aware-of-itself aesthetic: pastel pinks and blues, exposed wiring, a canvas map of the world somebody bought on Etsy, and the five succulent plants you bought at the farmer’s market when the term started but since forgot to water.


The baristas are all beautiful. You order a small ginger mocha and add a $1 tip. You aren’t sure how they get their braids so tastefully messy, but it must have cost them money. Even their acne looks good. You love these people more than you love yourself. One day, you shall become them.


The barista speaks, as if in slow motion: “The gi-ng-er mo-cha is my fa-vor-ite! Gooooooooood choooooooiiiiiice.”


Her mouth spreads wide into a sickly-sweet smile, but her piercing brown eyes, flecked by a hint of kohl so subtle you aren’t sure it’s really there, tell a different story.


“What the fuck?” they say. “You’ll never be me. I live a life of suffering. These delicious free lattes I consume on the hour don’t quench my soul’s thirst. I work like a dog, performing this mediocre service job to support my art and my move to the big city. No, not New York. The world is post-New York. Pittsburgh, or something like that.”


You nod, knowing you’ll never self-actualize on Chacos and Smartwool socks alone. Your mocha arrives- with a big “fuck you”- and you sip it in reverent silence.


Tempest Coffee’s new latte art can be found with any of its trademark coffee drinks.

— Nina Wilson


High School

It had been 3 years since I was convicted for a crime that I wasn’t guilty for. With a year left of my sentence, I was readier than ever to escape. Having just awoken, I pulled my uniform on over my head, and went to the bustling mess hall. As I sidled along the line of prisoners in similar uniforms, I took a bowl of the usual porridge slime and ate it without much thought. Before the stampede of prisoners could begin moving on to the next scheduled portion of our lives I quickly maneuvered through the crowd without causing a stir and entered the nearby passageway. I quickly walked to my destination, and, nearing the end of the bland, grey hall, I made my way into my designated Prisoner Congregation Room (PCR). For fear of being heckled by our Caretaker, I sat in the spot that was assigned to me. Following close by, more prisoners shuffled their way into the pen after me. Herded by the Caretaker, who often guards the area outside of the room, they entered in a single file line, as uniform as a row of dominoes. At the exact same time as he does every day, our Caretaker walked into the room, securing the door against any chance of escape behind him. I sat poised as he headed to the front of the room, the sound of the other prisoners gradually diminishing with his every step. Now in complete silence, the room’s focus was on him. With his hands behind his back in the contemporary military pose, the Caretaker cleared his throat and began instructing us on today’s proceedings in his monotonous, droning voice: “This fine morning we will run through a drill that disciplines even the toughest of prisoners by reducing them to a state of awkwardness and embarrassment. One by one, all of you will be forced to stand up here, where I am standing, and read from a script for a few minutes. Prisoner 179, you’ll be the first. Thank you for volunteering so graciously.”


Hearing my pseudonym startled me, but in the moment between being called upon and standing up, I had a moment’s reflection. Don’t worry, you’ve got this. Keep your guard up, and you’ll be fine, I thought to myself. I then pushed my seat out from behind me and marched over to the front of the Prisoner Congregation Room. Reading the script that was handed to me, I began what felt like an agelong journey, but, alas, I finished, and perhaps that was the most freedom that I had felt in my life. And now, I stand before the audience of prisoners, who continues to stare at me in awe of my inspiring prose. They all stare at me, as if expecting me to say something else. Erhm… I guess I say The End now?

— Nero Gallagher


Top 10 Places to Cry Around Campus

It’s finals week! And you know what that means! Maybe it’s your trimester-ly ‘cry in the Warch bathroom’ or ‘breakdown in the physics lab.’ Maybe it’s that time of year when you want to weep for your GPA that will never recover after your bio final. Maybe you’ve had too many fights with your roommate over who owes the other more culinary cash, or you’re sick of seeing that one asshole in class every day. Need a new place to express your feelings without anyone witnessing? Have no fear! I’ve prepared you a list of the best places to go and cry to your heart’s content, or until you pass out from dehydration:

  1.    The 3rd floor Warch bathroom. Now this one is a little dicey, because you risk people coming in and hearing you, or you may have to force yourself to stop crying over the toilet while you listen to your peers take a dump. Either way, the echo is great to experience the sound of your heaving sobs, and flush to cover up the sound of you blowing your nose for the 453rd time.
  2.    The bathroom on the 4th floor of the library. With the two doors that provide extra insulation, the chances of someone hearing you are almost zero. It’s hidden, it’s private, and even if someone hears you, it’s okay, because they’re probably waiting their turn to cry in the stall after you vacate it.
  3.    Deserted train tracks over the Fox River. It’s private, it’s scenic, and the cold weather provides the perfect setting for a good ole cry. The river can wash away your tears, fears, and even your backpack if you choose to throw it in if you’re feeling especially distraught. (You can even jump in if you so desire, just to blow off some steam, but you run the risk of growing a 3rd leg, so make sure you weigh the pros and cons before going for a swim)
  4.    Storage room in Big Exec. You’re guaranteed lots of privacy, with only smelly sports equipment to keep you company, and who could ask for more? No witnesses, no hassle, no having to fight anyone else for the space. Just you and a cement floor. Sounds perfect in my book.
  5.    Middle of the SLUG gardens. You can almost pretend you’re a Disney princess as you run down the hill straight into the garden, crying inconsolably. Maybe you’ll come across a woodland creature, like a half-frozen bunny, or angry goose. The possibilities are endless, guaranteeing a magical crying experience.
  6.    Cupola of Main Hall. This one is especially impressive because it requires a lot of stairs, time, and lock picking skills, so this location is for veteran campus criers looking for a challenge. Also a great date idea! Impress your boo with your lock pick skills and your ability to start weeping anywhere. Couples who cry together stay together. ❤
  7.    Balcony of Chapel. Pretend you’re the Phantom of the Opera as you weep dramatically from the balcony, overlooking the stage. If you really want to go that extra mile, you can launch yourself straight onto the stage for a dramatic finale. This is only suggested for veteran criers, because beginners can find it difficult to multitask crying and stage diving.
  8.    Physics lab. As I always say, nothing makes you cry like a good old equation can! Maybe you just can’t get a solution, your experiment’s gone wrong, or your group project is a mess because your group members are dipshits. Let it all out with some science to keep you company.
  9.    Conservatory practice room. You’re guaranteed your privacy on this one. Maybe someone will think you’re just practicing an instrument, or maybe they’ll think you’re doing some sort of elaborate warm-up exercise. Not sure how soundproof those rooms are, but hey, it’s worth a shot!
  10. The Laundry Room of Your Dorm. Everyone knows college kids don’t do laundry, so no one will interrupt. You can even use the sounds of the dryer to muffle the sounds of you crying. The smell of a laundry room can be very relaxing, they’re usually warm, prime real estate for a good, long cry.

— Kate Youdell


Woman Wearing Large, Clunky Boots in Somerset Room Shot and Killed on Sight

Appleton, WI- Elizabeth McPherson, a 19-year-old Lawrence University student, drew her last breath this morning in the Somerset Room, a popular campus study spot. According to a witness at the scene, Elizabeth walked into the room “wearing a really cute outfit.”

The witness continued,  “She had this great cardigan-and-dress thing going on. The dress was, like, polka dots, and the cardigan was an amazing mustard yellow. I wish I could pull that off!”

However, the outfit had one fatal flaw. According to Elizabeth’s roommate, Elizabeth spent “a lot of time” that morning deciding which footwear best matched the ensemble, and she eventually chose a pair of expensive black boots she had received two Christmases ago from her parents. The boots’ soles were starting to wear out, but the shoes “sure did make a statement,” the roommate said.

Too loud a statement. The boots’ thick heels were like kryptonite for the Somerset Room’s hardwood flooring; the second they came into contact with those long strips of maple, a violent clunk reverberated through the room like a gunshot. Then a real gunshot rang out, because Elizabeth had been fatally shot.

The shooter, Hannah Sorrel, another Lawrence University student, is now in police custody. When asked about her side of the story, she reported she heard the boots from a table near the windows, where she had been parked for hours, studying for a midterm. She is a self-described “high-achieving chemistry student.” According to a sympathetic friend, Sorrel “just wanted an A in that class.”

We asked Ms. Sorrel what went through her head when she whipped out her personal handgun carried under a self-defence license.

“You have to understand one thing,” she said. “I was at a table by the windows. That’s literally across the room from the doors. And those boots were still so loud that I couldn’t focus on anything, and I just had to kill her. I’m glad I did it.”

We request that everyone respect Elizabeth’s family’s privacy at this trying time. – Nina Wilson


Victoria’s Secret Releases Bra to Fulfill ALL of Your Boyfriend’s Dreams

Victoria’s Secret’s new spring line made a splash with their release of the “Dream Bra,” designed to push your breasts into the exact size and shape your boyfriend wants to see. With the innovative quadruple underwire design and not-adjustable chain mail straps, this bra ensures that those unsightly mammalian glans hanging from your chest are cinched into an unrecognizable but otherwise flawless shape. It doesn’t matter what bra-size you are— this bra is a one size fits all and will ensure that your boobs look just like those that grace the chests of our Angels. So give your boyfriend what he really is looking for this spring—a rack to look at and brag about, since in the end, making your boyfriend happy is what really counts.

— Sydney DeMets


Goat Released During Improvisational Concert, Causing Confusion

During last night’s improvisational music and dance concert, a goat somehow emerged on stage, causing some confusion amongst the performers but not the audience.

“I had no idea what the fuck was going on. We hadn’t discussed this at all,” one disgruntled performer stated. “It just leapt on stage and ran into a music stand, which fell over and hit my oboe.”

While other musicians and performers on stage expressed anger at the goat’s bleating and eventual defecation, some members of the audience felt that the release of the goat enhanced the entire night.

“It was so beautiful. I just saw the message the artists were giving so clearly— the message about the cruel treatment of animals in society,” one Lawrentian, who had just taken a class on interpretive dance through an environmental perspective, stated. Though our sources tried further questioning this student on her opinion of the concert, she slowly turned away and absentmindedly mumbled something about having an appointment behind Trever Hall.

Flora Whispers, the coordinator of the event, expressed some concern about where the goat came from.

“The goat just clacked up onto stage, which reminded me of a dream I had during the last lunar cycle. I thought the goat was a sign, but I have no idea if it descended from the shining fields of green grass or if it came from the audience.”

While the goat has inspired anger, beauty, and mystery, for some, it was also “damn funny.”

“Got me rollin’ in my seat in the back,” Charlie Norton told us in a thick Boston accent. “I had to be here for my niece’s graduation, and she was dancing in this joke,” he explained. “Yeah I tell you what, the goat takin’ a dump on stage was the most real and least bullshit part of the concert.”

Sources later reported that after interviewing all fifty audience members, Mr. Charlie Norton was the only one who realized that the goat was not supposed to be there, demonstrating the true value of higher education.

— Sydney DeMets