My Wednesday mornings are ruined. I no longer enjoy my fresh cup of morning coffee in the Marketplace or my eager walk to the Oxy Weekly box for the newest issue. I instead vagabond around campus; sleeping on quad benches, breaking into Weingart, and verbally abusing the squirrels, all the time shouting obscenities and oddities in hopes of bumping into the anonymous contributor of Overheard at Oxy.
The once omnipresent specter that was the ear of the Overheard at Oxy column is gone, and good Lord how do I miss him. The Overheard at Oxy column was our own private representation of One Thousand and One Nights, with our lovely paper playing the role of Scheherazade, regaling us with a new taste of what was overheard around campus every Wednesday morning. There is nothing like waking up to the smell of hot coffee and a quote about how a student is “100% pure scrotum.” It enlightened us, brought us closer together, and highlighted the diversity of scrotum across campus. However, it is gone now, never to return, and I shall mourn its passing deeply along with the rest of you.
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