The Eighth Page

The Eighth Page

Highway to the Danger Zone

Don’t get me wrong: I love the smell of tree-shaped air fresheners mixed with huge amounts of cigarette smoke as much as the next guy, but cabs in Andover are not getting any less creepy. Any one of the drivers could be a criminal, or worse yet, a mutant. For the time being, I’m not…

The Eighth Page

Stupider Like A Fox

Breaking free from this week’s theme, I will not write an article about being stupid. On the contrary, I will just write an incredibly stupid article. This will keep everyone happy, even Johnny Law, whom I sometimes like to call “Nate Scott ’05.” Johnny Law is always on my back, giving me such unreasonable orders…

The Eighth Page

Bowl-Cutted Freak

Tiny droplets of salty sweat pour down my back and thighs like the tears of an orphaned Romanian child on a cold city street. The girl next to me hyperventilates violently, heightening my nervousness. The proctor at the front of the row eyes me sumptuously, undressing me, it seems, with her eyes. And none of…

The Eighth Page

Sir Lance

If I were to ask you which section of The Phillipian has the smartest writers, you would say: “Why Sir Lance, the answer ‘tis Features, of course!” I can guarantee you would say that too, because if you didn’t I would have to smack you with an enormous ham. But how can we know that…

The Eighth Page

Fabulous Fasions

The commencement of spring is, I feel, more easily recognizable than that of any other season. Walking around the picturesque, tree-lined pathways of Academy Hill, it is difficult not to feel the spring air infesting your soul like the Spirit of the embittered Ghost of Christmas Past, who is angry because spring is his slow…

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