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The summer is over.
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The summer is over.
Over the past two days, the Daily Lobo has received numerous complaints about a cartoon that ran in our Opinion section on Tuesday.
It’s the last movie rental holdout, a Pandora’s box full of lost treasures.
Phooey on you, brainless America.
Editor’s Note: In the past, Fiestas brought artists such as the Flobots and the Shins.
Right now, in a trailer above Castetter Hall, flesh-eating bugs are feasting on rotting meat.
It resembles a mad scientist’s lair.
The most dangerous place on campus may not be the nuclear reactor, but the wood and sculpting shops in the art building.
It took Odysseus 10 years to get back to his wife, and while it took me only 12 hours on a Greyhound bus to get from Oklahoma to Albuquerque, the ride was just as much an odyssey. What follows is a blurry recollection of the trip. Journey forth with caution:
_So you blew all your money on illegal cock fights, genetically enhanced green chile and alcohol. Always with the alcohol, you alcoholic. Anyway, you have to stick around New Mexico for spring break, and you’ll probably try to drink away the pain — again.
Mathematicians are glasses-wearing, pocket-protector-sporting, calculator-wielding geeks.
Who would have thought two stuffed animals and a taxidermy shop could have such deep-seated meaning?
They say behind every great man there’s a great woman. Well, in the UNM production of “And Then They Came for Me,” behind a great cast are three great women.
At first glance, skateboards seem nothing more than a set of wheels and some wood, but the UNM skating team thinks they can be a lot more.
Imagine buying a home, but the realtor explains that you have to share a phone number with your neighbor.
There are many things I hate in this world — Axe body spray, zombie spiders, AT&T’s desperate, “Please don’t leave us for Verizon” iPhone campaign — but few I feel as conflicted about as classroom group work.
People should give up on trying to reinvent themselves.
Quinn has been taking pictures since her childhood, even with cameras that had no film.
Russel Taylor sits on a vinyl red couch at Studio Red in Nob Hill.
The recent redux of the website Myspace raises the question: Whose space is it, anyway?