Wrinkle. Twist, squirm, SUN. His eyes open to take in the annoying morning light as his body rises to start the blessed day known as Friday. Like every responsible adult, he seeks to hush the vibrations and song of the 3-D magic
Past midnight on a Friday, I found myself in a kebab shop with two of my clearly intoxicated friends. The kebabs came in styrofoam boxes that would not close because of the sheer amount of meat stuffed into them. One of my
Editor’s note: This article was initially published in The Daily Gazette, Swarthmore’s online, daily newspaper founded in Fall 1996. As of Fall 2018, the DG has merged with The Phoenix. See the about page to read more about the DG. Wes Anderson