This past summer, I went on a family trip to Washington, D.C. Despite being almost 1,500 miles from Waco, I got multiple comments along the way on my Baylor apparel.
Points of View
Austin City Limits Music Festival is a time to listen to bunch of bands, dance with your friends and have a good time.
If you’ve ever met me, you probably think I have everything under control. Or at the very least, that I don’t stress out about things. I am quite deceptive.
Almost everyone who was either attending Baylor or a fan of the Bears in 2011 can tell you where they were the evening they watched Robert Griffin III receive the Heisman. The chant from that night still echoes in Baylor’s history: “RG3, RG3!”
I’m embarrassed to say this, but Spanish is not my first language.
You go to a coffee shop, order your favorite latte and get a nice seat in a booth by a window. You whip out your laptop and look to see if there’s free Wi-Fi available. Hooray, there is Wi-Fi available. You click through the agreement as fast as possible, wanting to check the latest posts on Facebook. Little do you know that you’ve just signed away your firstborn child.
I have never been a fan of Christian movies. You know the ones I’m talking about. They almost always have obnoxiously direct dialogue, underestimating the intelligence of the audience to interpret the message on their own. They feel more like propaganda than artistic expression. I can’t stand them. “Soul Surfer” soul-sucked my desire to live for the entirety of its 106-minute run time.
Americans, as a whole, don’t spend enough vacation time overseas. The experience of visiting a foreign country has so much to offer, and yet many Americans will never leave the country.
There is no legal right to clean water. But is there a human right to water? More importantly, what happens to the individuals who lose access to water?
Fellow students, brothers, sisters, people wearing sweatpants and trying to type that last word with a caffeine-shaky hand, let’s just all agree that pulling all nighters is really just not fun, possibly the opposite of fun. It is the dreaded anti-fun.