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Monday, January 23, 2006
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I spent two hours at the gym Wednesday. I didn't want to spend two hours there. In fact, I never want to spend two hours at the gym; I don't like to work out that long. And I didn't work out that long on Wednesday. Of those two hours, about 30 minutes were spent waiting in the Student Recreation Center's weight room line, which was roped off like a Scottsdale club and guarded by students who make post office employees seem excited to be at work. The rest of the time I was waiting for a machine, squeezing in a set or waiting for my own machine after a sleeveless, sweaty once-a-weeker slithered in there when I went to grab a drink of water.
[Read article]
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· Editorial: Presidential manifesto |
· Mailbag |
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Latest Issue: January 19, 2006
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Latest Issue: December 6, 2005
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Fire twirling, sword swallowing on club's weekly agenda
There's a little pyromaniac in all of us. Blame our caveman
instincts, but our fascination with this force of nature - both
destructive and life-sustaining - starts with childhood, where
experiments with a Zippo lighter and your mother's industrial-sized can
of hairspray gives you hours of fun and, if you're lucky, a brand-new
set of eyebrows. [Read
article] |
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