Sex at Yale: Creepy fumblings among the awkwards
Year after year, 18-year-old women come to Yale in search of the two L’s: a liberal-arts education and some libidinous release.
Prep kids strive for Lehman and Lehman. Renaissance festival enthusiasts come for lyres and laurel wreaths, but instead discover liquor and their libidos. And then, eventually, Renfesters find festers of their very own.
Fester: a rankling sore; a pustule.
But love? Not so much. Since the advent of my Yale career, my love life has transformed from a tragi-comic one-act to an all-out theater of the absurd. An embarrassingly misplaced...
Didn't you have parents ? This article was disgusting.
Okay anonymous prudester. Welcome to yale. And the real world.
Glad to see you're back, Claire, and writing with humor. Don't let the trogoldyte commenters get you down.
Does it matter which body part is being complimented on being judged creepy? Is it creepy for an old alum to compliment the writing of an undergradute woman?
This article was relatively tame compared to some of claire's previous work. Still bashing men though
g i love you. keep your witty quill flowing x
I am in awe by the perversion that takes place at Yale.