Last semester, we wrote a column about soup. Some found it funny, others found it cringey and some of you downright despised it. We felt all three. And so of course, we're going to do it again.
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Just in time for the end of 2022, our editors are revealing their top moments of culture for the year, from the films that rocked their worlds to the television shows that drew them in. For today’s ranking, arts editors Jack, Henry, Odessa and Ellie give their takes for the best albums of 2022. As Ellie notes, her list is “unsolicited and sometimes incorrect opinions from a girl whose No. 2 artist this year was Bo Burnham.”
Good morrow, losers old and new. This is a little fireside chat, if you will. But instead of fire (like the literal kind … like FDR during the Great Depression core), we have fire roasted tomato soup (what they fed people during the Great Depression). We have that on absolutely no good authority … don’t fact check us.
You know the drill, babes. We’re back. After a brief hiatus, there were concerns that we were getting too close to the truth (the information police were after us (and by information police we mean our families (and by after us we mean we were home for Thanksgiving))).
Nevada. Long ‘a’ or short ‘a’? Please get back to us with your phonetic spelling. It’s political.
Listen up, nerds. This is serious business … we need ANSWERS.
Where do we even begin? Like… what?
You guys, there’s drama. Not naming names, but one member of our duo tried to poison Cole. It wasn’t Ellie, we swear.
Good morning, Your Honor. We’re now calling the case of Lester v. Reese. Today we’ll be having a hearing on the matter of chowder; are both parties present and ready to proceed?
This is a message for Shanghai Moon Restaurant in Medford, Mass. If you are not Shanghai Moon, or our Uber Eats driver, Diamond, keep scrolling. This does not concern you.
Peach Pit, the Vancouver-born quartet, released its third album, “From 2 to 3” (2022) on March 4. The Alternative/Indie group delivers yet another well-balanced combination of playful guitar riffs and thoughtful lyrics. Its latest project is hardly shocking but reliably good.
It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Sadie and Ellie had a fire in their tummies. They had just gotten yelled at. On hump day?! The audacity.
Good things come to those who wait. At least, that’s what we tried to convince ourselves as the minutes grew in our wait for hot pot at Q Restaurant in Boston. Fifteen minutes turned into 40, and we simply were not having it.
Today, we’re gonna be talking about an uncontested staple. The lifeblood of every Jewish family. The centerpiece of the Seder. The magnum opus of every little grandmother chanting “Dayenu” for the umpteenth time: matzo ball soup, bitch.
We are tired. Sadie has purple feet (and them dogs are BARKING). Ellie ate salsa for breakfast. With salt. But it was pico de gallo, which makes it a little better?
On Friday, April 1,Peach Pit paid a visit to Boston’s Big Night Live for its 2022 tour celebrating the release of its third album, “From 2 to 3” (2022). With a loaded lineup packed with songs from all three projects, the band delivered a lively performance with plenty of fun hair flips and intense guitar solos — and a violin.
This week we went home. A place that loves us and cares for us and sometimes does things to us like making us fall asleep in our friend’s bed across campus and walk home at five in the morning because you swore you would just take a nap. No? Just Ellie? Anyways.
We have a confession to make. This week, we almost forgot about good soup. We were so caught up planning events, hosting guests and counting doors and wheels that our minds were elsewhere. We even got stuck in the ‘80s for a bit. And then we got lost in the jungle. It was a little scary, until we realized that camouflage is ugly. Like, really ugly.
This week, we gorgeous, gorgeous girls had a dilemma. We had a lot of balls to juggle: a midterm, two meetings, three bottles of liquid, shackles, a formal to attend and some soup to slurp. We were overwhelmed. We spend a lot of our time overwhelmed.
A delinquent, an anti-nut guest columnist and a Cabbage Patch Kid walked into Foundry On Elm in Somerville. It was a Thursday evening. The air was frigid and the weather daunting, but they had one goal in mind — French onion soup. And they were prepared to trek in any conditions, be it snow or hail or Sharknado, to fulfill their deepest desires of warming their frosty souls with a steaming bowl of salty, cheesy, gluten-filled goodness (except for the ginger girl … she doesn’t have a soul).