Look, don’t get me wrong—I’m as bummed as anyone that the spit-swapping moonlit make out glory of FMOTQ is on its way out.
But with Hennessy leaving at the end of the year, how fun was it going to be anyway? Like, without Dope Boy John’s signature backflip off of MemChu into a pile of kiss-eager frosh while sick fire effects shoot off to either side, what are we really losing?
It’s as empty as an EBF happy hour without DJ E-Freak Elam dropping fat beats through a haze of smoke. Full Moon sans Hennessy is a paltry half-moon at best.
He was a legend. You know the rumor that Hennessy snuck into the tree costume in order to kiss Condie Rice? Totally true. And the kid who had a strain of mono named after him when half of west campus traced the sickness back to him?
Yep, that was Hennessy. And you know how they had to make a VIP section to make sure that the most popular students wouldn’t get mobbed by kiss-proposers?
It was just Hennessy behind a rope, sorting though a Google form of people who had applied for a smooch.
But now he’s gone. So go ahead admins, pull funding for Full Moon.
Put and end to the titillating tongue-tying. Stanford’s weirdness was already on its way out, and its most lit standard-barer—a simple man named John—is nowhere to be found.
