Non, je ne regrette rien


The students who once walked these flooded quads may not have been able to picture the neon/nylon conflagrations tossed over our desk chairs, the iPhone threatening to self-destruct with deluges of texts and notifications, and the cardboard cutout looking forlornly at an abandoned Ruit table…but they knew good music.

So as last night’s beer skunks–and you Stumble, tweet, and stream your way into procrastination’s point of no return–remember our roots, fix your hair, and consider wearing a tie to dinner…

 

 

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