PREFROSHHHHH! Come to the SOCH in the Quad!

Learn about The Voice, eat delicious baked goods, take some pamphlets and meet our baller, baller staff!!!

Ben Moss from the class of 2013 who also toured with the award-winning Broadway show “Spring Awakening” is auditioning for Glee. Let’s get some Harvard on that show! Vote here!

by Anonymous

Desperate times call for desperate measures. We’ve all had our fair share of 3 a.m. scallion pancakes at The Kong after a long night out and, at the time, they’re always AWESOME. The Kong can also provide a haven for late-night p-setters, who are “just as desperate for food but sober, so the hunger strikes harder.” But the Kong opens at 11:30… a.m. What on earth happens there during normal business hours? The Voice ventures to find out.

5:00 p.m.: Yikes. Where is everyone? Where are the drunken students trying to figure out tip? The kid asleep on the table? Sketchy guy spitting game over spicy noodles? This is not the Kong I know and love.

Occupants of the Kong: One small family and a professor-looking person chowing down on fried rice. Was seated quickly and brought water and a menu. This is… not so bad?

5:10 p.m.: Water: refilled. Ordered: Scallion Pancakes, Crab Rangoon, Sesame Chicken, and Hot Basil Noodles. I am scared and excited for greasy Chinese all at the same time.

5:29 p.m.: Food arrives quickly, it looks… good?! First bites= Delicious, delicious Chinese. Total win. But after awhile, you start to get the feeling that without the heavenly glow of alcohol surrounding your Hot Basil Noodles, Kong food really is just mediocre Chinese fare.  This is like finding out Santa isn’t real all over again. I want Santa back.

5:56 p.m.: Three girls come in and start recounting their weekend final club conquests. I’m starting to feel more comfortable. Nighttime Kong does exist in milder daylight form.

5:58 p.m.: Hilarity of girls next to us wears off, carb coma sets in. Need. To. Move. Read the rest of this entry »

Sexologist with plush vulva puppet.

Voice Vixen here, reporting on the Female Orgasm Seminar which took place this past Friday night. Content warning, the following does acknowledge the existence of sex and is textually NSFW.

6:45 So this thing hasn’t started yet and already Science Center C is a writing mass of hot bodies, packed front to back with Harvard Students who apparently want to know the ins and outs of the female orgasm. There is a table up front arrayed with various sex toys ranging from purple to pink to… pinker. I’ve picked up a raffle ticket, wish me luck!

6:46: A group of guys sitting behind me can’t seem to say the word clitoris without whispering. One of them says he hopes to hear about some “serious technique.” I suppress judgement, it seems clear that boys of Harvard could really use the help.

6:55 It IS SO LOUD IN HERE. It’s almost like every person in the room is having a really intelligibly vocal orgasm. Rabble rabble rabble!

Read the rest of this entry »

The print copy of our April issue officially goes to dhalls and the Science Center tomorrow, but you can have an early peek online!

Click here to view the April issue.

My first night I ended up at the Kong with the Harvard Radcliffe Asian American Christian Fellowship with and because of my atheist best friend. (Need I point out the many levels of irony in that particular situation?)

While at the Kong, I met another kid with whom I exchanged numbers. However when I met up with him the next day, he introduced himself to the other prefrosh I was with as my ex-boyfriend from 6th grade. Needless to say, I found this a little strange. I somehow ended up spending the rest of the night with him and his friend from high school while they talked about their classmate who founded a porn company, beer pong, and their secret rating system for hot girls.

The next day, I had no intention of seeing the kid again, but ran into him at an Asian bbq, where a well-meaning upperclassman asked if we were dating. Awk. He and his friend from high school ended up hanging out with some of my friends that night. He passed the time taking pictures of me from across the room and shouting at me, “Woman! You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!” I was incredibly skeeved out to the point where I considered going to Yale. Fortunately for me, my horrifying memories of Bulldog Days were much stronger than my creeptastic ones of Harvard Prefrosh, so I did, in fact, end up at this illustrious institution.

Coda: One year later, I’m not only friends with the (former) creeper kid, but dating his friend from high school. So, summary of prefrosh weekend: Atheist best friend takes me to Christian fellowship takes me to disreputable drinking/eating establishment where I meet boy who tells people we’re dating who then introduces me to boy I actually end up dating (who, incidentally, is Jewish).

Enough to get even Sarah excited.

We swear it’s not a myth! The seminar, that is.

In addition to offering free “vagina” cupcakes, hundreds of dollars-worth of sextoy giveaways, and free condoms/lube/dental dam the Radcliffe Union of Students are holding a contest. That’s right, a contest!

The sports team or entryway with the most members present (by number and percentage) will win one of TWO, count ‘em, TWO cakes!

Spice up your sexlife, eat free food, maybe giggle at a slideshow or two (but in a sex-positive way). Empower you and your fellow “Vagina Warriors,” bring your man, bring your woman, bring whoever!

(note: The Voice will be there AND blogging the event for those who cannot make it)