This past Wednesday, 12 students were inducted into the prestigious, Canisius-exclusive DiGamma Honor Society, or as The Underground likes to call it Overachievers Anonymous – DorkGamma works too.
With Thanksgiving just around the corner, many campus organizations are hosting their own festive feasts with accouterments on theme with their club. The dinner hosted by Canisius University Morticians (whose acronym we cannot put in print) however, did not get their event FDA approved.
The Underground is proud to have been appointed to the Canisius Institutional Sustainability Task Force. The Underground is proud to announce that it will be fighting to cut all dining expenses. The students of Canisius will be made to survive off of the land, fulfilling the Jesuit value of “care for the whole person.” We will turn the Quad into a farm and dispatch the rifle club into Forest Lawn cemetery to hunt for deer and squirrels.
President-elect Donald Trump has offered The Underground a position in his cabinet. Under The Underground’s leadership of the bureaucracy, America shall Answer the Call.
The Underground understands that registration for classes has been underway for a few weeks now and that most classes are full at this point, but for those still looking for classes, courses like In-Depth Looks at Uranus, How to be a University President, Study of the Faculty Handbook, Probing 101, Diagnosing D-Hall Syndrome, and Journalism have no seats filled yet.
The Underground can’t believe it’s saying this, but now that Griffin staff members are watching The Eras Tour during editing night, The Underground actually longs for the days of the staff punching holes in the walls over the Bills’ Thursday night games.
Now that Halloween is over, The Underground would like permission to officially start celebrating Christmas. Those interested in joining the festivities can start by bringing us lumps of coal to keep the furnace that keeps the office the same temperature as the depths of Hell up and running. Coal is also The Underground's favorite little snack, so bring extra while you’re at it.
The Underground has once again committed itself to furthering this campus’s betterment. What we thought was the smell of burnt toast and a sign of our inevitable stroke, was actually the smell of a very burnt waffle we had to rescue from the new waffle maker in D-Hall. Upon further reflection, we should have let it burn to avenge the stolen ice cream machine that it replaced.
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