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Welcome back, readers! Give me your money or I’ll shoot you.


1 Editor-in-Chief Sabrina Vogeley Assistant Editors Jared Rosen, Erin Schmalfeld Copy Editors Jillian Q. Johnson, Marcail MacEwan Comics Editor Richard Sordello Music Editor/Hype Man Grant Golland (not boyfriend material) Contributors Abigail Lawton, Adam King, Alex Lord-Junior, Amanda Smith, Ashley Barnett, Audrey McCloskey, Bina Qassem, Cameron Hoppas, Casey Busher, Chris Gaitan, Chris Prioleau, Dia Foster, Donald Smith, Evan Krouse, Jaime Nabrynski, James Shea, John Karasinski, Jordan Morrissey, Jun Takeda, Karena Meyer, Katie Butler, Lauren MacDonald, Max Stokols, Nick Jones, Onur Celik, Patrick Johnston (boyfriend material), Roland Hsu, Stacey Enoch, Steve Quach, Sylvie BoenkeBowden, Yuna Ma, Zorarar Sethi Cover Artist Donald Smith Business Manager Evan Krouse Fish Rap Live! 1156 High Street Santa Cruz, CA 95064-1077 Faculty Sponsor Mike Rotkin Join Fish Rap Live! Wednesdays 8 p.m. Bay Tree Conference Rm. C Department of Corrections Last issue Calista Flockhart was incorrectly quoted as saying, “Fuck you.” What she really said was, “We need to stop all this genocide.” Fish Rap Live! Mantra “House real big; Cars real big; Dick real big; Everything real big. Rims real big; Pockets real big; Rings real big; Let me tell you how I live. Like that? Buy that! 24’s? Ride that! Ladies, gentlemen, gangstas, pimps, Bitches, hoes, stunnas, shinahs; I’M RICH, BITCH! I’m a fucking big timer!” -Mannie Fresh, 2007

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

T OC 08


Hugs and kisses! -Sabrina Vogeley

Dear Fish Rap,

I wish to write in complaining about your running feature “The Faux.” In today’s constant spin market of the 24-hour news stations like FAUX News and COMMUNIST News Network, it disappoints me that even the high and mighty Fish RAPE Live! would reduce its standards to that of the JEW York Times or LIESweek. You’re blatantly spun and untrue news articles are barely worthy of being Fish WRAP, nonetheless actual journalistic materials. Until you cease your sloppy and biased RE-POOR-TING, I shall no longer read your periodical.

-Bubba Gunther

PS – when will you finally have the BALLS to tackle the upcoming Zionist takeover?

Surely with these hard times ahead, Fish Rap Live! can understand the importance of being one nation united, so we can get through this peril our country faces. I look forward to a more optimistic and uplifting Fish Rap Live!

-President of the Nazi Party of America

Dear Nazi Dude,

You fucking know it! Here at Fish Rap, we pride ourselves on nothing more than our sense of ethics. Why, just the other day, I beat the shit out of one of the new staffers for stealing one of my Sun Chips. It’s this kind of discipline that will keep America strong even in the diminished condition it now occupies.

Best wishes, Sabrina

Dear Bubba,

First of all, I can assure that the upcoming Zionist takeover is of the upmost importance to the members of the Fish Rap Live! staff. That being said, I have ovaries, not balls. Go fuck yourself.

XOXO, Sabrina

Dear Editors of Fish Rap Live!,

With our economy in the crapper and our country divided over politics, I am hoping that you will take this as your chance, as idols to thousands of our nation’s youth, to promote positive values and become a true role model.

Dear Macbeth, Heavy, dude.

Amicably, Sabrina

Dear Fish Rap,

Your newspaper is a racist, homophobic, sexist piece of trash. However, sometimes I feel these rightful defenses of our white heritage are too subtle and seem to be straying too close to “multiculturalism.” Can you please watch for this in the future?

-Duke Perriwood, Grand Imperial Wizard

Dear Other Nazi Dude,

Why do you people send me so many letters? Seriously, your hate mail should be going to the Leviathan.

Thanks, Sabrina

Dear FRL! Editor,

“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

P.S. Dear Readers: Please write letters to the Rap.


Business a little slow?

Advertise with the Fish Rap Live! E-MAIL FishRapAds@GMAIL.COM



FINANCIAL ADVICE FROM THE FISCALLY CHOSEN PEOPLE Because we feel a little gelty about all this. As a Jew, I know a lot of things you see fit. That’s capitalism, baby! If you don’t like it you about money. What it smells like, can go to Canada, where the job market is better. what it tastes like, how effective it is Number two, the future. There isn’t any afterlife, so as a mattress, and other things that who cares about that? Where have you been? We live people like you and me (mostly me) in the now. Retirement, social security, the tax burden are interested in when it comes to on future generations? Snore. If you want to ensure a that heavenly collection of paper and happy future for yourself and your loved ones, buy an Jared Rosen coin we know as good ol’ American Xbox 360. At least when that red-rings you can send currency. Ahavat haKesef. it to Microsoft and get it repaired. Can you send your Jew Lately, I’ve been hearing a lot of 401K plan back to Washington Mutual for that nowmoaning and groaning from the customer service floors nonexistent $200,000 you were saving over the course of the several banks that I own. Apparently while I was of your entire life? Work builds character, even for the entertaining the entire 2007 Girl of the Month roster in elderly. Stop complaining and kill shit-talking 12-yearmy stylishly chic bachelor pad and giving the President olds over Halo like an adult. tips on his golf game, somebody fucked up. Now the Number three, credit. If you haven’t shaved your shouts of joy that used to barely penetrate the slit under plastic down to make self-defense shivs by now, you’re the door of my executive offices have been drowned out making a big mistake. Lacking cash, pay off any debt you by the sound of people withdrawing every last shekel have left with equitable exchanges. Try growing corn, from my ATMs. That’s not a ketsev I can or fishing, or ripping the copper piping giyl to. out from under your neighbor’s house. I It’s the least I Alright, I admit it. The Jews dropped personally recommend baking flat bread can Jew. the ball. We got so caught up in goldor putting two inedible fish into a single, plated yarmulkes and the latest in highmore inedible dish. The hunter-gatherer fashion sidelocks that we lost sight of what was really lifestyle isn’t necessarily bad; Cro-Magnon man did important: controlling the banks and the government. pretty well with it. Forty or so years wandering around Now that you don’t have any more money or faith in looking for shit isn’t too bad. The point here is never government authority, who are we going to fuck? Our to use credit again, weaning yourself away from credit wives? Spend some time around those harlots, maybe dependence. Lose your home? Live in an unoccupied learn what it’s like to never make your own decisions and highway divider. If it’s good enough for field mice, it’s pronounce El Pollo Loco with hard L’s. With this specter good enough for you. Need transportation? I hear they of our own “free time and will to live” crisis looming sell scooters at Toys-R-Us. I keep a small fleet of platinum dangerously on the horizon, I believe that it is time to Razors in the trunk of my H3, and they only fall apart right the collective wrongs of my race over the years once every three times I hit a crack in the cement. (except for the Jesus thing) and dole out some financial Finally, think about the big guys. I personally advice for the huddled masses. It’s the least I can Jew. know Freddie and Fanny. Hell, we vacation in the Number one, food. You probably have a stock Mediterranean every summer. They’re not bad guys, they portfolio lying around, maybe with some defunct just made a couple monumentally disastrous mistakes. Lehman Brothers shares inside. Many people don’t know We were all kids once. I remember when I put my Rabbi’s this, but paper is a great source of fiber. There are a variety circumcision clamp in my mouth in the second grade. of approaches to eating the rotting carcass of your golden Good times. The point is, don’t hold us responsible for years, but I recommend soup. Ta’im! Boil it down, throw our mistakes. We’re only human. The big question here, in whatever you salvaged from the downtown garbage and question you should all be asking yourselves, is why bins at three in the morning, make yourself some stock. you trusted regular-ass people like us with your money You fought off a homeless meth addict for that moldy in the first place. Good luck, America. I expect your half-slice of pizza, you should be able to use it any way large deposits into my accounts very, very soon.

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THIS DEBT AIN’T MY DEBT A foreigner’s perspective on the American economy Americans love depression, in all forms and functions. That is probably the most valuable contribution of the American experience to the collective conscious of the 21st century. It was, once upon a time, one of the most important health problems that stood in the way of ultimate industriousness and reduced not only workplace but also consumption efficiency. Thanks to men in white and the marvelous magic of modern medicine, we hurdled over that fence. Unfortunately, the phenomenon known as economic depression (which gained its contemporary connotation by the fab of federalism and the lofty laissez-faire policies of the post-states’ rights war of northern aggression) continues to crash Wednesday night farmers markets around the world, particularly in the Constitutional Monarchy of Turks and Caicos islands, the second biggest economy in the Onur Çelik world after Cyprus. Not a terrorist Economic depression is very much like your average emo teenager: restricting clothing, awful music, an unnecessary feeling of weariness and of course, the trademark shiny hair that covers one eye because s/he can’t handle the world in 3D. Unlike your average emo, economic depression can’t be fixed with a good old lobotomy. It takes years of hard work on the part of the administration or a war of epic proportions to snap out of it. The problem with the first method is that it’s against the laws of politics. That is, people who have power don’t give a shit and people who give a shit can’t do anything about it. The conventional way to fix the economy and prevent yet another economic depression would be to give huge tax cuts to the rich so they can pay off their well-earned debts and stimulate local economy and create jobs for the American people by building factories in China and setting up customer service phone lines in India. These wonderful Republican policies are infallible, anyone who claims otherwise is without even the slightest doubt an extremist-Islamist un-American colonist-commie and a direct descendant (possibly a clone) of Benedict Arnold. As an objective observer of this mesmerizing mess, I suggest voting for the Republican Party and pushing for WWIII. It worked before and besides, you gotta finish what you started and complete the trilogy. Oh and in case nothing works, you might wanna get a map and start learning some country names, just in case — heaven forbid — you might come into contact with them. God Bless America!

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

Things that suck at life: The Republican Party, Yo-Yos, Po-Pos, The U.S. Economy

Baby, I’ll bail you out


adies and gentlemen, grownups, in-betweens, children and babies: you don’t need me to tell you that times are tough, but let me explain it to you in plain English, words we can all hopefully Chris Prioleau Philanthropist understand. Our country is in a record deficit, banks are failing harder than you did on your last physics test, and the Dow is dropping faster than a drunk freshman at Stevenson College Night. Yeah. That fast. But please fret not, for even in uncertain times such as these as we face the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression, we should continue to hold one basic truth essential: I still have hella money. Hey, wait wait, don’t go turning the page just yet. Stay with me for a while. I’m not just another condescending braggart dangling the width of my savings account over your moist and waiting lips for kicks. I’m writing this editorial in an attempt to give back to our struggling economy. I want to help Main Street, not just Wall Street, get back on its own two and that is why I would like you — ladies and gentlemen — to consider me your one-man bailout plan. That’s right. But let’s not get too excited here OK? I’m not going to fill up your gas tank or pay for your goldfish’s laser eye surgery; I just want to help you get by. Let me explain what I mean. Ladies, let’s say you’ve had a hard week working that 9-to-5 in some dusty office for “The Man,” the very same man who won’t open the door for you at the end of the day and is too self-concerned to notice how sweet your ass looks in those leggings you almost got caught shoplifting from American Apparel. Let’s say you’re tired, you’re run down, and you want nothing more than a big plate of Louisana-style Eggs Sardou. Unfortunately for you (and for our nation) Fannie and Freddie have wiped your account dry and all that’s left in your cupboard is old Top Ramen and a few dusty cans of Chicken of the Sea. Don’t cry sweet lady, sweet impoverished lady, just call me — your one-man bailout team — and I’ll not only buy and Sardou you the eggs myself, but I’ll even take a trip to Bed, Bath, and Beyond get you that jasmine-scented candle you’ve had your nose on, and maybe that new Al Green album you’ve been wanting to listen to, and I’ll make something happen. You don’t have to get out of bed. You don’t even have to put your clothes on — as a matter of fact that would probably just complicate things. I’m only trying to make your life easier. Mmmm, doesn’t that taste good? Of course it does. Now swallow it down. After this we could hop into my Jeep and go see a movie. There’s a new Keira Knightley film out, you know. Would you like that? Our economy would. You seem tense. Believe me, I understand. This has been a tough time for all of us. Here, lemme bailout your Omohyoids with a nice neck massage. Feels good, doesn’t it? I bet WaMu never treated you this good, did they? I can even hold on to your money for you, y’know, for when the banks fail and stuff. Ssssshhh, just hand it over, that’s right give it up, give it all up. Ooooh. That’s nice. Stocks are rising. No slumps up in here. Fannie and Freddie are feeling jealous. You know why? Cuz we’re bailing baby, that’s right, bailing you right the fuck out.

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008


The doorbell rings hard and long. Maya runs down the stairs two steps at a time, opening the door just in time to see the apple-bottomed UPS man scurrying down the driveway. There is no room in Maya’s head for thoughts of what might be underneath those brown shorts. Gleaming with anticipation, she races back upstairs and with shaky hands places the package gently onto her kitchen table. She tears back the single piece of tape and knocks the box on its side. Slowly yet steadily, out slithers the latest in dildo perfection: the Creamator 5000, guaranteed 5000 orgasms in 30 days or your money back. The package says that it comes with a built-in never-ending supply of warming lubricant, and a self-cleansing sponge for that time of a girl’s month. It’s simple looking enough, a smooth shaft with a jelly-like epidermis. Its gentle disguise keeps clandestine the plentiful inner workings, only accessible through a single dial. Pie-eyed, Maya grabs her new paramour, runs into the bedroom and slams the door behind them. She places it on the bed next to her and turns the dial into its first gear.


It starts by lightly nibbling around her neck while slowly unbuttoning her shirt. Knowing that she only has 30 minutes until her boyfriend comes home, Maya undoes her pants herself and is in her underwear before she can get her shoes off. Things are getting a bit hot and heavy so she flicks the Creamator 5000 into second gear and instantly is thrown back into her pillow. She gives a little yelp as the end of her ponytail is yanked to the side, almost tweaking a muscle in her neck. The nibbling has moved down to between her thighs. Her toes are curling and she doesn’t know what to do with her hands. This problem is easily solved as they are pinned to her side. Her entire bottom half becomes warm, numb, and then burning hot. Her ears feel like they are going to fall off after her fifth orgasm, but she is slightly turned off by her bedside clock telling her she only has 15 more minutes of “alone time.” As soon as she turns the dial into third gear, she finds herself face down on the bed. A few tears start to well up around her eyes each time she is smacked from behind, leaving giant red welts on each butt cheek. She feels what would be fingernails dragged


down her back, sending shudders throughout her body. The scratching and spanking feel so good it takes her a while to realize she is being buggered from behind. The clawing continues, deeper with each stroke and she’s bleeding now, bleeding and crying as orgasms six through twelve come with just four minutes to go. With her big toe she manages to send the dial into fourth gear: I think you kids call it scarfing nowadays. She is hanging off the end of the bed, whimpering while she begins to feel lightheaded. The screaming is cut short by sudden pressure around her neck, and her breath slowly fades away. Her vision is growing fainter and fainter as her heart pounds louder and faster. Wet with sweat, cum and blood, she’s almost there. Tragically, before she gets a chance to experience the final climax, her boyfriend walks into the bedroom holding a large box. Instead of scurrying to explain herself, she waits a few moments to regain her vision until she reads “Creamator 6000” on the label of his box.


“I read about this in Maxim magazine a couple years ago: I would buy a package of NSV^Z[PJRZHUK[HWL[OLT[VT`SLNZ;OLTV[OZ[OL`H[[YHJ[^PSSÅ\[[LYHYV\UKT` penis until I cum.” -Mike Durighello, fourth-year, environmental studies


SLUTTY McFUCKFUCK, Ph.D. Sex advice for the sexually ambitious by Slutty McFuckfuck

Dear Slutty McFuckfuck,

I’m a freshman and I haven’t yet found a good place in Santa Cruz to get my asshole bleached — any suggestions?

With love, Rusty Cornhole

let you try on lots of styles until you find the one that’s right for you. But fancy services aside, their straight-up bleaching services are to die for — your brown eye will sparkle like the day you were born.

Kisses, Slutty

Dear Rusty,

I was so pleased to get your letter! Too few people value a nice, tidy butthole. Especially here in Santa Cruz, where it can get a little granola-y and shit-stained for my taste, it’s hard to come by a person without a greasy chocolate starfish clinging to their anus. But I have good news for you and others like you! Santa Cruz is home to its very own Asshole Boutique! The SCAB is conveniently located in the downtown area and they’re certified experts when it comes to anal bleaching. They also offer other exciting services. You can get your asshole waxed, washed, or even styled. When I first started out, I got the French braid, which was really pretty but last week a friend of mine got this wavy weave that looked stunning. During my freshman year, one of my TAs was planning her wedding and she told me that they do great up-dos and

Hey Slutty McFuckfuck,

So I was at this party last week, and now I have a hella sore throat with white bumps. Can you get genital warts in your throat?

Thanks a heap, H. P. Vasquez

Dear H.P.,

I can relate, girl. Haven’t we all been there? After some serious research on my part, I’m happy to inform you that chances are you’re okay. If you’ve engaged in oral sex with someone who is infected with genital warts, its only a slim possibility that you’ll develop warts in the back of your mouth or throat; however, many of the 130 strains of HPV don’t cause warts at all. So you could have contracted the virus without even knowing it. So good news and bad news. But more importantly, you should stop being such a fucking

skank. I know that dental dams are straight-up retarded, and only, like, Mormons have oral sex with condoms, but come on, bitch. Don’t suck a dick if it looks like it’s covered in mushrooms. I mean, unless you’re drunk — then you totally have an excuse. But maybe you weren’t sure if he had warts at the time — I know the situation. The lights are low, the Two-Buck Chuck plentiful, and he had all the right moves. Chances are, if you were slobbing this guy’s knob, you were probably playing tonsil hockey too. Your sore throat is probably just some dumb little bacterial thing you picked up.

Cheers! Slutty

Dear Slutty McFuckfuck,

My vagina farts after sex. My boyfriend says it’s nasty and it always makes him leave. How do I make it stop? All I want is some post-coital cuddling.

Please help me! Queen LaQueefa

Dear Q2,

Your letter had me concerned for several reasons. When you say

“farts,” do you mean the sound is accompanied by a noxious odor? If this is the case, I suggest you seek medical help immediately because your lame-ass boyfriend probably gave you an STD. Which brings me to your lame-ass boyfriend. If he’s leaving you all alone over a little air pressure, he’s a total jerk. You deserve someone who’ll snuggle you all night long while your pussy queefs the night away. But the way to solve the problem? You need a boyfriend with a bigger dick. Seriously. When overzealous boys with small dicks really pump away at your slot hole, a lot of air can get stuck up there, especially if he’s doing you doggy style. I’d recommend you go hang out at the basketball courts and wear a titty shirt. If you’re actually attached to this boyfriend though, try some positions with you on top. Sit on his dick, throw your knees over his shoulders and grind away, sugar. I know you’ve got it in you.

Good Luck! Slutty

Got questions? Concerns? Questionable bumps? E-mail: SluttyMcFuqfuq@gmail. com

Dear George Washington, it’s my turn to be the George W. on the $1 bill. Move it. With love, George W. Bush


FROM BLANK TO BLANK, WITH LOVE DEAR CAKE FARTER FROM 1GIRL1CAKE. COM, At this point in time I think we have casually encountered each other enough times for me to simply call you the “cake farts” girl. Thank you for introducing a disgustingly hilarious 1 minute and 57 seconds into the lives of my friends, myself, and many people around the world. The first question I have is “What?” I then ask myself “Why?” But in the end your brand of chocolatey fetish pornography, if I can even call it that, has amused me to no end. Your puckering bunghole and well-composed symphony of gaseous bliss has disgusted some, turned on others, and made a few, including myself, cry the salty tears of laughter. I’m positive the Betty Crocker cake you squat over brings just as much joy to people as your charmingly nauseating video. Your brown-butter-door could sing hour-long serenades, making you the troubled troubadour of cake farts. I can’t begin to imagine whose idea it was for you to drop trou and well… fart on a cake, but it’s genius. In conclusion, I can only guess that you received some amount of money to perform such a rigorous task. Cake farting might be a great way to make a little extra cash, but it certainly is a horrible way to feel like a decent human being.

sex! I left my DVDs at your place, I just want to come pick them up, why are you being such a little bitch about it? And to the guy I met at the coffee shop (yes, you!) — really?! An Agatha Christie novel? That’s what I never get back from you? Just for that, I feel justified in telling the world that an afternoon with you… not that delightful. I’ve never had to work so hard for such disappointing results. A dead fish would have been more animated then you were! Probably would have been a little stiffer, too. I can’t believe I had sex with you twice! And to Mr. Let’s-wait-for-a-while-beforebecoming-intimate, there’s a word for people like you: cock-tease. I mean, what, did you not understand where I was trying to go with all that foreplay? How much clearer could I have been when I was lying on top of you and said, “Let’s have sex”? All I want back from you is the time that I wasted.



down and counted that shit? Give me a flavor chart. I can’t handle a Jelly-Belly factory melt-down in my mouth when I’m looking to assuage my thirst. 23 flavors, really? This fool got his degree! I call shenanigans.

WITH LOVE, FATTY DEAR VEGAN GUYS WHO CHEAT ON THEIR GIRLFRIENDS, Congratulations on your animal rights! How admirable of you to give up dairy and meat for the sake of those cute furry little creatures.

What a shame for you to think that gives you the right to treat animals with more respect than women. You think that since you gave up eating animals you can give up the promise to keep your dick in your pants? Not eating animals does not translate to you eating out as many girls as possible to balance out your diet. Those furry little creatures are not to be treated the way you’re thinking of. You will never be able to fuck pets the way you can fuck bitches, so where’s the respect? You morally contradicting motherfucker, you think you can publicize your virtuous lifestyle and get away with your cuntbumpin’ decathlon without people finding out? Well here’s the bulletin: after I’m done with this rant, you’ll be reduced to smearing tofutti on your small pathetic dick to fuck a whole-wheat bagel. All those soy-based infused estrogen substitutes are only going to make you even more feminine, shrink your already dwarflike penis, add more sexual confusion and homosexuality to your life. But hey, I hear it will also help with your hot flashes, so eat up honey. And once you’ve eaten enough of your precious soy to suppress your masculinity and stimulate your female side, you’ll be crying over your spilled soymilk once you get that first yeast infection.


can some shitty chain restaurant like Domino’s tell me that they now also make not only pizza, but sandwiches AND pasta? Hold up. Hold the fuck up. You’ve got some 48 years in the biz, and you fuckers still don’t have that whole pizza thing down. Domino’s has made millions off of the drunk, the car-less, and the occasional hot cardboard connoisseur, and that’s crime enough. Now you’re trying to pawn off sandwiches and pasta on us too? That’s real bold, shitheads. And it gets worse. That’s right, Subway had a bright idea of its own — pizza. I’ll reiterate that: pizza. You know, like that round, flat, quasi-cheesy shit that Domino’s already makes. Listen assholes, just stick to what you know, or kinda know. Seriously. I already have IBS, my digestive system can’t handle that. And what the fuck is Dr. Pepper’s deal? 23 flavors, one beverage. Man, I can’t even think of 23 flavors, how the fuck are you going to pack that shit into one soda? 23? Who sat

DEAR MANKIND, Hi. It’s me. I realize that this is a rather unusual way of getting in touch with you, but it seems like lately you’ve been kinda hard to reach. First off, I just want you to know, it’s alright — I get it. It’s not like I’m sitting at home every night waiting for you to call, or trying to justify to myself that you’re not calling because you work so much. Usually when a guy just stops calling I take it to mean that he doesn’t want to see me anymore. Whatever! That’s fine! I mean, we only went out on a couple dates anyway — it was totally casual! But while I harbor no hard feelings over this split, I will smash the windows on your ridiculously lifted Ford F350 if you don’t give me my fuckin’ DVDs back! I mean WTF man?! All I want are my fuckin’ DVDs! It’s not like I keep calling you because I’m some friggin’ harpy trying to latch on to you after some pathetic pity

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008


Failed historical game shows: Deal or New Deal

FELINE SEASON IS ALL YEAR LONG Or, as we like to call it, “Eating Pussy 101” by Maria Voylokova In this time of financial crisis, there certainly isn’t a shortage of things to worry about. But the thing you, as a starving college student, are undoubtedly really concerned about is food. Soon you simply won’t be able to afford much more than water and cabbage (though considered a delicacy in Mother Russia), and let’s face it, cabbage is sooooo last century. You can always scrounge for vegetables and fruit in other people’s gardens, or raid the dumpster outside the Food Bin along with 20 other people who had the same idea (push the skinny ones, they are weak from hunger). But what about meat? Meat spoils quickly and is

not likely to be very palatable when retrieved on your last dumpster-diving escapade. Meat is also expensive and harbors nasty looks from the vegans buying Tofurky at the next counter. Luckily, I have the solution — one that will allow for free and nutritious meat and will help get you in touch with your inner predator: Cat Poaching. Residential Santa Cruz is practically swimming in juicy overweight outdoor cats just ripe for the taking. The best places to go are the streets behind Pacific like Cedar and Chestnut. There are large residential homes with front yards that have cats all over the place. Though other places are good, too. Just the other day I was stumbling home from a party at the base of campus and I saw what first appeared to be a watermelon with legs. Upon close inspection, this revealed to be a big, fluffy, poachable cat. I tried to pick the monster up, but it was so damn heavy that I resolved to come back in a less inebriated state. The people who own these cats are often wealthy and neglectful of animal care, so their cats are overweight. They are also very friendly and will usually come

right up to you so that you can scratch their fat bellies. If the cat is shy, you can also offer a little bit of cat food as bait (a good investment as a small bag will get you several cats, and if not, a good breakfast cereal). Incidentally, drunk cat poaching is a national pastime in Russia, a noble land with a rich history of culinary shortcomings. Droves of middle-aged drunk men roam the street, searching for the perfect plump specimen. You can join in their noble tradition by incorporating it as a fun party game. “Come for drinks and catch your own dinner!” Now, some people may be a little squeamish at the thought of cat poaching, but there are really many benefits. Cats are nutritious and the fat ones will fill you up nicely, especially in the cold Bay Area winters. They have also led rich, full lives and have been well taken care of, unlike most factory farm animals you can buy at the supermarket. Also, owners will most likely replace them quickly in an attempt to displace their feelings on another animal, so the population of poachable cats will be replenished. Hunting is a quintessential American pastime. The great and auspicious future Vice President of the United States (or President, following a well-timed heart attack), Sarah Palin, is an avid hunter. You can follow in this grand

Recipe for Simple Lemon Herb Cat

Serves 2 INGREDIENTS * 2 skinless, boneless cat fillets * 1 lemon * salt and pepper to taste * 1 tablespoon olive oil * 1 pinch dried oregano * 2 sprigs fresh parsley, for garnish

DIRECTIONS 1. Cut lemon in half, and squeeze juice from 1/2 lemon on cat fillet. Season with salt to taste. Let sit while you heat oil in a small skillet over medium low heat. 2. When oil is hot, put cat fillet in skillet. As you sauté cat fillet, add juice from other 1/2 lemon, pepper to taste, and oregano. Sauté for 5 to 10 minutes each side, or until juices run clear. Serve with parsley for garnish. tradition by helping to keep the domestic cat population in check. To get you started, I have provided a lovely recipe for pan-fried cat. But don’t be afraid to be creative; remember, cats are the other white meat. Not to be confused with the “other other white meat,” which is babies. More on that next month!

BLANK CHECK: AN EXHAUSTIVE MOVIE REVIEW by James Shea Blank Check is a classic “smart-ass kids” movie. Made in 1994 in the wake of Home Alone, Blank Check (directed by Rupert Wainwright) tells the tale of Preston Waters, a young boy who ends up with the titular blank check that he cashes for 1 million dollars, leading to hijinks and adventures and maybe, just maybe, a moral lesson. It is also not very good. Preston, for one, is a cringing bitch of a kid who spends the whole film either whining about how unfairly he’s treated or making the case for his abuse. Whereas most kids’ films try to establish their heroes as underdogs, Blank Check presents Preston as a little shit who attends his bully’s birthday party and openly declares his intent to hire a hitman to knock off his two older brothers. He also mutters snappy comebacks under his breath, proving he’s not even confident or cool enough to go toe-to-toe with Max Keeble. To compensate for Preston’s charisma deficiency, the script ramps up his parents’ neglect, turning the usually distant father into some bizarre, laissez-faire freemarketer who allows his more entrepreneurial sons to invade Preston’s room and steal his allowance under the guise that “in this family, industry gets rewarded.” Consequently, Preston is the greediest mofo this side of Gordon Gekko (or Scrooge McDuck, if you’re uncultured swine). By comparison, movie villain Carl Quigley is decidedly modest. Alls he wants is to escape from jail, launder his stolen million, and start life over with his nest egg. He turns to local bank owner, Biderman (played by Oscar-nominated character actor Michael Lerner, seen here reduced to rolling around with a toy dinosaur and acting like a jackass) and his best friend hip-hop star Tone Loc (the dude who wrote the less-catchy version of “Wild Thing”) to help him

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

enact a simple deposit-withdrawal transaction. However, in an unfortunate oversight, Quigley forgets to tell Biderman who will pick up his cash. This lapse in judgment creates an opening for Preston, whom Quigley runs over with his car. Wishing to flee the scene as quickly as possible, he hands Preston a blank check with orders to use it only to compensate him for the bike, making Quigley the first criminal mastermind to operate largely on the honor system. Preston greedily forges his ill-gotten blank check using his SPACE AGE HIGH TECH MACINTOSH COMPUTING MACHINE’S word processor. Sadly, the product placement only gets worst as Preston decides to invent the fictional persona of “Macintosh,” a billionaire playboy who communicates to the world solely through a 10-year-old boy. Preston uses his crafty, totally plausible scheme to buy the local minicastle mansion by, in a needless contrivance, outbidding Quigley for it. His joy at his newly committed felony triggers one of five montages in this 93-minute movie, showing Preston rolling around in a bed of money while shouting such lines as “Yeah!”, “Woo!” and “Lots of money!” Meanwhile, local bank teller Karen Duffy (played by Karen Duffy) reveals to nobody in particular that she’s actually a super-secret FBI agent trying to get to the heart of the money-laundering scandal. And since what would a kid’s movie be without a mushy love

story (answer: better) she is put on the job of seducing a 10-year-old boy in order to get closer to the mysterious Macintosh. She dines with him, dates him, has soaking wet montages with him and soon begins to fall for him even though she’s a fucking full-grown woman and Preston is like 10. What the fuck Rupert Wainwright? When Preston discovers that all her attention was an attempt to uncover the money trail, he blackmails her into promising to date/bone him in six years. Great, then it’ll still be statutory rape but at least he’ll be able to reach her boobs without a stepstool. In accordance with Disney’s “No Innovation Laws,” Quigley and Co. go through the incompetent movie villain motions of wacky hijinks and chase scenes before finally deciding to just ask a kid where Preston lives. Even then, they have to threaten to drop their informant off a skyscraper and, in a stunning display of editorial fuckup, appear to actually do so. Meanwhile, in a tone shift so sudden the cast should’ve been wearing seatbelts, Preston begins to regret his life of luxury. Coincidentally, the bills come in and surprise! He’s out of fucking money. After overhearing the 18th-century industrialist playing Preston’s dad give a heartfelt plea to a chair he mistakes for Macintosh, Preston realizes that what really matters isn’t money, but those who love him. Rather than fess up to his wrongdoing and take the consequences, Preston jumps ship and tells everybody Macintosh stole all the money

and disappeared. Jeez, no real punishment for his crimes? Really? Even Kevin McAllister at least had to talk to smelly homeless people. Speaking of Home Alone, with Preston at his lowest and the baddies at their wackiest, the stage is set for the obligatory “child gets the upper hand of and physically abuses adults” sequence. As usual, the humor comes in slapstick interpretations of murder attempts: Preston sends Biderman into some sort of seizure, pulverizes Tone Loc with a baseball pitching machine, and tries to drown Quigley in the pool. I dunno, Preston, castle laws only get you so far. Soon, however, Quigley retakes the upper hand and, in a moment of oxygen-deprived mania, declares that he shall take on the role of Macintosh, despite Macintosh being a bankrupt debtor living in an unmanageable mansion. Suddenly, Karen Duffy shows up and arrests the baddies for various crimes such as money laundering, accomplice to money laundering, and being a black guy with a smart mouth (no, seriously, Tone gets arrested for being a “wise guy”). So Preston learns his lesson that stealing and fraud and felonies and lying and being a little shit are all perfectly OK, as long as you keep your wits and find a fall guy. Geez, what is this, a Scorsese movie? Finally, in an ending so physically uncomfortable it could only be a Wainwright film (see also The Fog, Stigmata, his MC Hammer music videos), Preston makes a birthday wish to fuck Karen Duffy. Even creepier, Wikipedia states that there is in existence a rare “unrated” version of the film where Preston actually does get his bone down, as well as a scene where a dude gets his heart ripped out. Both of these scenes were assumedly cut to make room for more fucking montages.

The Dollar Store: The Rich Man’s 98¢ store


„5H[P]LJ\S[\YL! JVTTVKPÄLKHUK sold for a buck


„Endangered (animal) cereal

„Poor man’s suicide

„Planned Parenthood for the girl on the go!

„The Fourth of July

„Snapple candles



„-P]LP7OVULZ taped together

„(IPNHZZ sandwich

„Anal sex

„Costco indus [YPHSZPaLKIV_VM cocaine

„A clown suit (use the rest of the money on legal representation, you sick fuck)

„Half of a tit job

„Vietnamese orphan

„5L^@VYRZÄ]L boroughs: the socks

„Christmas all year long

„>HZOPUN[VU Mutual


CONSUMER REPORTS: BANKS by Erin Schmalfeld & Grant Golland


Upon entering the local Wachovia branch, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the beautiful scenery. Spacious bay windows provide magnificent views of the vacant lot and adjacent brick wall next door. But, quite honestly, that’s where the pleasure of this trip ended. My 7:00 a.m. reservation was all but ignored by the receptionist, who was wearing one of those Sav-on imitation perfumes. Tacky, tacky, tacky. While I commend them for offering free coffee, it was clear that this putrid substance had been fermenting in its pot for several hours. Besides, French Roast is so 2007. Additionally, my teller was completely unknowledgeable when it came to the wine list. When I asked about the quality of their new mortgage loans, my server merely sighed and suggested that I walk down the street to Wells Fargo. The cinnamon-scented air freshener made the place feel homey and familiar, but the fact remains that they can’t help me buy a home.

Rating: 2 FDIC Thumbs Up

Washington Mutual

Back in its heyday, people used to flock to WaMu for its tantalizing free checking and mouthwatering home loans. But now? Try to order a subprime rib and all you get is scowls and not a single Whoo hoo! Aesthetically, this place is now a dump. Falling apart at the seams, the ambience can be affectionately compared to modern Iraq. When it came to the courses themselves I was underwhelmed. My final book of checks was not only cold, but the ingredients were clearly not fresh. On a positive note, the service was excellent. Being that the establishment was completely vacated, the lone teller focused on all my needs. Unfortunately, I was disappointed to learn that the milkshake machine was broken.

Rating: 119 Useless Anniversaries

Wells Fargo

When entering the Santa Cruz Wells Fargo branch, the intoxicating aroma of impatience drifted past my nostrils, trying as hard as it could to repulse me. This olfactory reception was not unlike that of the rather rude hostess, who, upon discovering that I merely needed to order some checks, promptly told me to “do it online.� Undeterred, I braved the massive line, which was clearly under-marinated. When I finally reached the teller, he told me that they had recently added a wonderful Wachovia to their menu though he mistakenly made my checks out to George, party of four. He also forgot to refill my free water. In Wells Fargo’s defense though, their safety deposit boxes were to die for and the drive-through isn’t half bad.

Rating: 8 Tired Ponies


Not all banks stick with their image of stodgy old white men and serious, straight-laced banking options. Citibank has, from the very beginning, worked to prove itself to be a friend to the urban youth of today, whether it’s their pleasing interior design composed of windows and primary colors or their hip, multiracial staff eager to help and “get down.� Consequently, Citibank offers a plethora of checking accounts and savings plans sure to match even the pickiest of banking customers, although they admittedly lack any options for a more “traditionallyminded� customer. However, with this great service comes a disappointing clientele, as the lobby of Citibank can attest to; at peak hours the lines can be hellishly uncomfortable and nothing is more off-putting than having to make small talk with your fellow line members. With a little more staffing and more flexible hours, Citibank can vastly improve its already great standing.

Rating: 846 Votes for Obama

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

The best day of my life: The day Patrick Johnston accidentally wandered into a Fish Rap staff meeting


Other uses for your now-obsolete currency by FRL! staff

Launder it

FRL! Pre

The Hell Depre COINUS INTERRUPTUS The act of pulling out all your money

Burn it for warmth

Wipe your ass


Pie The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

Our nation is now broke and capitalism, as the unregu- countries have followed suit purchasing equity shares in lated system that we know it, has failed. According to micro banks, essentially giving them cash to stay afloat and keep and macroeconomic theory, the natural equilibrium term lending. Lots of major companies depend on these loans that Adam Smith coined as the “Invisible Hand” ensures a to pay workers and other overhead costs; without these self-regulating system that benefits the masses. Dogmatic loans businesses cannot stay afloat. As an analogy, think belief in this appealing euphemism created about it like this: the global economy is on fire the ideological foundation behind the growth and the world’s governments are trying to put it of the modern financial system and the advent out with cash. of unregulated derivatives. The growth and So now we have Pat Buchanan bitching about deregulation of these derivatives helped create socialism, a huge drop in people’s retirement plans, a financial bubble in the housing market, a bailout on Wall Street, and I’m sure somewhere which instigated the current financial colin hell Marx is bitchsmacking Adam Smith. This lapse. Natural equilibrium is a false construct crisis is big. Soros (billionaire) went on “Meet the and dogmatic belief; this theory plunged the Press” and looked malnourished. As a business banking system and stock market into the major, trust me: This sucks. I am drowning in current financial meltdown. This point is key; Patrick Johnston debt, as are many other college students. Although many of you will hear from credible econo- Boyfriend material mortgages were a cause for the crisis, debt in genmists that the current financial crisis will work eral has become entirely too socially acceptable, itself out in the long run. This misnomer is another way and the solution will be for Americans to slowly climb out of saying, “trust the Invisible Hand.” The Invisible Hand of debt. Here are some tips for the average fiscally irreis what got us into this mess and derivative regulation sponsible college student (you, the reader) to help weather (financial socialism) with steady economic recovery is the the economic storm: only thing that can get us out of this mess. All markets are unstable and unpredictable. To argue otherwise is danger1) Do not spend more than you earn. ous, presumptive, and based on a false premise that markets 2) Create a budget for yourself that includes room naturally move toward equilibrium. for discretionary spending and loan payments. Currently, our situation is very similar to the 1929 3) Stop buying useless crap, especially from other financial crisis (which catalyzed the Great Depression), and countries like China. is rooted in the derivatives market, specifically the mort4) Buy local. gage backed securities. Many mortgages — loans issued at 5) Vote Obama. He understands economic theory the value of a house — are granted on the assumption that (unlike McCain) and will lower taxes for your the home will retain its value, ensuring the buyer’s ability income bracket. to pay back their mortgage. However, housing prices have 6) Shoplift. If you are morally opposed to this, fallen at an accelerated rate, and as a result homeownthen you should know that Safeway is a major ers are unable to repay their mortgages (to boot, many contributor to the Republican Party. If you are took out multiple mortgages). This situation has forced a Republican you should know that Safeway homeowners to default on their mortgages, resulting in now sells birth control pills, which you are also foreclosures and consequently bank losses. Banks sold morally opposed to. these (worthless) mortgages like stocks in the derivatives market. These mortgage-backed securities (like stocks) Regarding the future: we need to climb out of debt. were sold on global markets, transforming a national crisis We have been living outside our means and have been into a global clusterfuck. Exact bank losses from mortgagedependent on other countries for too long. We need backed securities are unknown, causing a credit freeze (no to fix the financial system and climb our way out of lending) and panic in the stock market. debt. Unless we get our act together and repay our Karl Marx maintained that socialism — when the govdebt, in 10 years’ time China will be buying goods ernment runs institutions instead of the market — was a assembled by kids in U.S. sweatshops. necessary step in the inevitable transition from capitalism Disclaimer: to communism. The failure of the financial markets to corI am not responsible for your poor shoplifting rect themselves has resulted in government intervention, techniques. If you get arrested, blame it on parental which has led to financial socialism. As a result, other neglect.

The second-best day of my life: Will be pillow talk with Patrick Johnston


Things we wanted to see on the new penny



Helpful money-saving tips

Now I understand that many people today would love the Nile, fleets of ocean greyhounds, majestic, self-amornothing more than to blame me for the condition of our tizing canals and plantations of ripening tea. While these global economy. People like Mr. Johnston here, an admit- troubles mostly stem from our outdated notion of what are ted Socialist and thief, are so quick to blame bankers like proper investments, we also have been selling mortgagemyself and my partners for selling mortgagedbacked securities which have dug us into a very back securities, as if there was a wiser option of deep hole. But are we panicking? Of course not! how one should invest their tuppence! What else In fact, we are celebrating the fact that we just were you supposed to do with your money Mr. outbid Wells Fargo for Wachovia. And as for Patrick Johnston, feed the birds? Fiddlesticks, Washington Mutual being bought out by JP my boy. Feed the birds and what have you got? Morgan Chase, well, there is always room on our Fat birds! But if you invest your tuppence wisely company letterhead for a few more names. in the bank, safe and sound, soon that tuppence, It is my firm belief that economic panic safely invested in the bank, will[beat] com[beat], in a society breeds Socialists like Mr. Patrick Mr. Dawes, Sr. Johnston here because panic spreads so much pound[ba bum ba bum]! This is a proven ecoof Dawes, Tomes, misinformation throughout the masses that at nomic fact and a splendid song. And despite this CEO Mousely, & Grubbs cyclical economic hiccup of the last two years, I Fidelity Fiduciary Bank some point decent, God-fearing citizens will refute and dismiss Mr. Johnston’s notion that “we tend to believe anything that a Communist are all fucked� as the maniacal ramblings of an ignorant tells them. But if we remember basic economic and bankCommunist. The idea that because our economy is pres- ing fundamentals — like that of the “Invisible Hand� Mr. ently in a fragile state, that we are all somehow doomed Johnston refers to that habitually (in due time) corrects the to be homeless and impoverished vagrants is complete markets — then we will realize that there is no reason to fear nonsense! My bank has seen much more difficult times, this miniscule period of economic decline. Just remember: including the so-called “Great Depression,� and yet we When you deposit tuppence in a bank account, soon[beat] still endured! Of course, back then it was just called Dawes you’ll[beat] see[ba bum ba bum], that it blooms into credit Fidelity Fiduciary Bank (I merged with Tomes, Mousely, of a generous amount, semi[beat], annual[beat], ly[ba bum & Grubbs after the fact). But we are still standing after all ba bum bum bum bum]. And you’ll achieve that sense of these years and we will continue to stand, just like all of stature, as your influence expands, to the high financial you (except if you don’t own a bank). strata that established credit now commands. I do agree that times right now are a bit more difficult All from tuppence, prudently, fruitfully, frugally, for all of us. For example, I and my partners at Dawes, patiently, cautiously, trustingly invested, to be specific, in Tomes, Mousely, & Grubbs Fidelity Fiduciary Bank have the Dawes, Tomes, Mousely, Grubbs, JP Morgan Chase, had much recent trouble with our numerous propriety Wachovia, Washington Mutual, Lieb, Bush, and Taxpayers investments such as railways through Africa, dams across Fidelity Fiduciary Bank!


How Doyou you Waste Money? How do wasteYour your money? 40.00%






“Sometimes I like to light a few candles, put on ‘Absolutely (Story of a Girl)’ by Nine Days, and masturbate until I bleed.�









0.00% Hookers & Blow

Sausage Pizza

Tai Chi

Chai Tea

Taxi Joyrides Tipping Cuties



Mountain Animal Hospital CDs

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

Haters wanna hate, lovers wanna love. I don’t even want none of the above, I want to piss on you. Drip, drip, drip.

Guy on phone: “Look, I’ve really got to take a shit right now and I don’t need you bitching at me.” [Slight pause] “Yes, they’re correlated.” By the ARCenter, 9/24/08 “Having a child and having child-bearing hips are completely different things.” CHP girl at the Press Center, 10/12/08 “When I was little I used to think shoulders were boobs. And I would watch ‘Beauty and the Beast’ and be like ‘Wow! She [Belle] has such great boobs.’ ” Drunk guy at party, 10/4/08 “The university is sucking cash out of me, like a mosquito with a dick for a nose, or a mouth, or just a mosquito.” Guy at Seabright Lighthouse, 10/9/08 Girl 1: “Shotgun!” Girl 2: “That’s no fair! You got shotgun last time.” Girl 1: “Oh yeah, that’s right. OK fine.” Outside the Red Room, arguing over who gets shotty in a cop car, 9/27/08 “I’d give up my sense of smell, because there aren’t that many things that smell that good, except for, like, Axe body spray.” High-school guy, on which of his five senses he’d give up, 9/20/08 “Dude, check out the grass over here. I could have sex in this grass!” UCSC lacrosse player, 10/2/08 “Theres a butt in my pack, that’s why it smells like shit.” In transit to UCSC, 10/13/08 “Can I reuse a bag and save the world?” In Staff of Life checkout line, 10/9/08

Students, tree weigh in on university development Hello tree-sitters! I’m your #1 fan! I’ve been a fan of your stuff way before everyone jumped on the college activist bandwagon back in 2007. I’ve saved all your news clippings and anything you’ve tossed to the ground from your tree (I’ve even turned in your tuition checks when you asked me to). I literally worship the bucket you shit in! Man, it sure has been a tough past few months, but it looks like you guys have made it into another school year! It’s been quite hard to reach you with all those pesky pigs down in the parking lot, so I figured I’d try my luck with Fish Rap. I just wanted to tell you guys I am in comJohnny Lorax plete solidarity with everyTree Whisperer thing you believe and would like to reiterate your strongest points against the LRDP, as well as your demands for the Fish Rap readers and most importantly, the incoming freshman. PROTESTING ROCKS!

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

3) CHP WROTE AN ARTICLE ABOUT US SO WE’RE LEGIT As if you still had any doubts about our logic or motives, yes, City on a Hill did write an article about us. You can’t argue with the truth folks, and that article proves we’re too legit to quit. Sensational headlines are a foreign language to CHP, so of course everything they print is unbiased and true. SOME MORE FACTS YOU DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THE LRDP: 1) If the LRDP passes, you could be sued for HATE SPEECH for talking about the plan negatively* 2) The LRDP would set a precedent that could lead to legislation allowing people to marry animals or more than one person* 3) 61 percent of LRDP supporters have an STD and 40 percent have AIDS* 4) If approved of, the LRDP will FORCE our children to learn in school that expansion of our education systems is okay* 5) God hates the LRDP* *none of these points are facts in the sense of being “true” or have to “supported by data”

1) OUR FOREST IS FRAGILE 1,203 trees are where we draw the line. We’re all for cutting down trees to establish a UC in a beautiful forest (look how pretty it is!), however, we have a real problem with that 1,204th tree. Isn’t that a little excessive? Sure we need more room to accommodate the ever-increasing number of qualified UC applicants, but at some point someone has to say, “Hey! Enough is enough!” Sorry everyone else, you just missed the boat. We have We to bring a halt to this terrible bring a halt to this forest destruction, and unfortunately, it stops just after we get OUR DEMANDS ARE AS terrible forest in to UCSC and just before you FOLLOWS: destruction, and do. Our dorms and classrooms 1) No more tree-cutting or unfortunately, it were justified in being built, but expanding UCSC under ANY after a scenic walk around camCIRCUMSTANCES! stops just after we pus we have decided we just 2) A written apology in Hello get in to UCSC and Kitty stationery from all the can’t approve cutting down any more trees. Never mind the fact Old White Men just before that our campus has some of the 3) Free pizza on Fridays (NO you do. smallest class sizes in the UC sysEXCEPTIONS!) tem. That’s no reason for us to 4) A ban on police violence bear some of the burden of the increasing UC on campus! All riot cops must have their hands enrollment. tied behind their backs before trying to control an unruly crowd. 2) OLD WHITE MEN WROTE THE LRDP 5) An Ethnic Studies major (if you deny us one, Despite the fact that the LRDP and the Envi- you’re a racist) ronmental Impact Report have been drafted, re6) A less buggy version of the iPhone 3G redrafted and then drafted again to meet the needs leased immediately (thanks Steve!) of various groups involved, and the fact that the 7) Everyone on campus must purchase and LRDP itself is a general construction plan and wear (RED) products not a commitment to a goal by 2020, there is 8) Free Alette! (wait, that was last week, sorry) one seriously blatant flaw in the LRDP we just 9) Bring our troops home! can’t overlook: Old White Men. Old White Men, 10) Save Darfur! (this one might not be cool by nature, do not care about the environment, anymore, I’ll have to check it) overcrowding or a decline in quality of education. In fact, they tend to embrace these things. Well, there it is, folks, this is why we fight! If the City of Santa Cruz tells Old White Men I hope this makes it to the guys in the trees! I’ll the LRDP demands too much water from the continue to spread the word down here! Keep city, you can be sure the Old White Men will go up the good fight! ahead and build that huge water tank anyway. In solidarity, Why? Because they can’t help it. They lack comYour #1 Fan

Girl: “Can you tell me when to get off?” Girl to bus driver, 10/11/08

Hear something stupid? email

mon sense reasoning and we tree-sitters are here to provide just that for them. The LRDP and EIR were constantly drafted and redrafted because we tree-sitters were present in the trees, bringing a sense of logic to this gigantic Old White Men mess. Old White Men have no concern for the impact of UC expansion on surrounding environments and communities, that’s simply an absurd thought!



Dear Assholes, Get the fuck out, already. Seriously, what the fuck. You’re about a year extended on your welcome. You think I don’t know why you’re up here? I know. I know you’re a bunch of hippies that claim to value all living creatures or some shit. I also know you love attention. Am I somehow not one of those creatures you love? Digging yourself into me like a tick then shitting everywhere is 10 times worse than vivisection, believe me. At this point I would love to be ground into paper, a textbook, hell, even a McCain/ Palin yard sign. I don’t like you. I can’t be any more direct than that. Tree at By the way, nice touch tearing Science Hill those branches off my friend Tree at over there to build your paraScience Hill site huts. I’m glad there are no mixed messages here about your cause. Let me explain this to you so you can understand my frustration. Imagine one day you’re just chillin’ like a big pimpin’ tree, then out of nowhere, a small group of people climb all up on your shit and try to LIVE UP ON YOU. That’s not even the best part though, because then you hear them say they’re doing it TO SAVE YOU. If trees could scream you would know it by now. I’m old and GRUMPY AS FUCK so get the fuck off me. I want to die. You guys smell like shit and I hope I topple over in the middle of the night and take you with me. Did you guys notice it’s fucking freezing up here at night and windy during the day? If you did, you probably also realized it’s unpleasant and the reason it’s unpleasant is because YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO FUCKING LIVE THERE. Trees get cut down or fall down all the time, its alright, trees I’m old and can handle it. I’m a GRUMPY tree, I would know. AS FUCK After watching you people from so get the up here for quite a fuck off me. while, I can assure you that if a bunch of people want to cut me down, your fortress of tarps and shit stains isn’t going to do anything to prevent it. All you’re doing is irritating me while trying to get some attention for yourselves. I often have dreams about being cut down, with you guys still up there. You come with me all the way to the sawmill, but just before I get pushed through the saw, I sprout legs and say “FUCK YOU” and you guys ride that saw right on through to the other side. I then confirm the kill and skip off into the distance to kill your family. I record it all on my phone and post it to YouTube, but strangely, after all is said and done, I still don’t feel like we’re even. It’s hard to seek proper revenge on more than a year of being broken and shitted on for no good reason. I hope you fall out while you sleep.

Fuck you all, The Tree At Science Hill


“I think the LRDP debate is a complex one, and I feel like I don’t know enough about it to really have a strong stance. Drill, baby, drill!” -Abby Stevens, second-year, community studies

Whatever happened to discreet conversation? We’ve got our ears on you. And you’ve got your mind in loud, perverted, irreverent, insightful, idiotic, and generally inappropriate gutters. Welcome to “Overheard in Santa Cruz.”


Overheard in Santa Cruz


What’s the difference between sand and period blood? You can’t gargle sand.


Hitler vs. Tree Sitters: A Comparative Analysis*

Chancellor Blumenthal’s Monthly Tolerance Levels for LRDP Protesters

Hitler vs. Tree Sitters: A Comparative Analysis* Hitler

Tree Sitters Could be gay

Likes Gum

Disrespect Jews (Killed them/ protested on Yom Kippur)

Won’t let us make gum out of their trees

Invaded an area (Poland/ parking lot) Vegetarian

Committed Suicide

This increase is attributed to lower core body temperature and, therefore, decreased mood.

Poor facial hair decisions Unable to compromise

Still waiting...

*We don’t mean to imply that these two can ever truly be compared. FRL would never accuse Hilter of being similar to a tree-sitter.

The Long-Range Development Plan: A Timeline First of three tree-sitters is arraigned on charges of securities fraud as CFO of pharmaceutical company based out of Odessa, Texas.

June 18th, 2018

After six months of inactivity, tree-sitters forget the original purpose of their cause, leading to the unfurling of a 45-foot banner reading “Pull Out Of Iraq Now!”

October 2nd, 2008

A tree with no sitter to protect it falls in northern Oregon. It will eventually become the page you are reading right now.

August 3rd, 2008

12:52 p.m.: The mistake is discovered, false alarm declared. Drum circle at base of campus continues.

April 15th, 2008

12:31 p.m.: Tree-sitters mistake television production student’s outdoor ÄUHSL_HTWYVQLJ[MVYTLKPHWYLZLUJL"JHSS[OLPYMYPLUKZPTTLKPH[LS` ;OL`ZOV^\WPUSLZZ[OHUÄ]LTPU\[LZ

March 18th, 2008 January 3rd, 2008

Today will be remembered as the day capitalism fell at the feet of the masses. Swear ta God, dude. Those corporate pigs won’t know what hit them.

November 30th, 2007 Believe me, that demise is freakin’ inevitable.

Mistakenly believing that students other than themselves care, the newly founded LRDP resistance group hands out 2,500 newsletters (totaling 80,000 pages) spreading awareness of their cause. The irony of the amount of paper wasted for this undertaking is lost on the environmental protectionists. 1:18 a.m.: The SSS traces the origin of the two slips to an undercover :*7+VMÄJLYPUH[[LUKHUJL[OH[UPNO[;OL`ZVVUKPZJV]LY[OH[VUS`ZP_ of the 33 SSS members in attendance that night are not undercover VMÄJLYZ 1:15 a.m.: The idea of a coordinated attack against the proposed Long Range Development Plan (LRDP) is drawn from the hat on the third try. ;OLÄYZ[[^VKYH^ZHZSPWYLHKPUN¸SVNPJ¹HUKHUV[OLYYLHKPUN¸JVTmon sense,” were discarded, as both were under a current ban from SSS meetings.

2:58 p.m.: Having secured the tree, protesters await inevitable demise of the establishment. 12:10 p.m.: Police give up, after Che Guevara T-shirtwearing protester threatens to have corporate attorney father on scene with his “team” if they don’t dissipate.

!WT!-HJLIVVR»ZZLY]LYZL_WSVKLK\L[VPUÅ\_VM39+7WYVtesters using their parents’ Blackberries to notify the world of “Racist, Sexist, Homophobic, Violence-Obsessed Fascist Police Attempts to SMASH THE PROLETARIAT” 12:00 p.m.: LRDP opponents push past a police barricade, against orders from the SCPD on the scene. Shocking to no one but the protesters themselves, this sets off an adverse reaction from police on the scene. Note to self: apparently you’re not supposed to cross police lines against orders. 11:00 a.m.: Waiting until the peak hours of the day to garner as much attention for themselves as possible, LRDP activists make their move to begin their tree-sit in upper campus. 7:30 a.m.: While peacefully performing a reenactment of the birth of Our Lord and Savior™, Jesus Christ, and singing Kumbaya to orphaned children with leukemia in Porter Meadow, a handful of LRDP resistance TLTILYZHYLZL]LYLS`ILH[LUI`HNYV\WVMZH]HNLYPV[WVSPJL"[OLH[tack was wholly unprovoked. This, according to the reporting of fair and balanced Indy Media Center.

November 7th, 2007 November 6th, 2007

November 3rd, 2007 November 2nd, 2007

On the night before the beginning of the proposed tree-sit, the LRDP resistance group places phone calls to local and national media outlets. They are rebuked, with local outlets more concerned with Capitola’s ÄYZ[HUU\HSNYHZZZ[HPUH^HYLULZZJHTWHPNU

SSS Secretaries Earth, Wind, Water, Fire, and Heart determine by a 3-2 vote that racism is too “last year” to protest again. Fire’s swing vote JVTLZHM[LYHÄLYJLYLI\[[HSMYVT/LHY[ZOV^PUNK^PUKSPUNZ\WWVY[MVY Alette Kendrick’s 2007 cause du jour.

1:14 a.m.: Having exhausted their search, the SSS throws a bunch of ideas into a hat, and draws out an idea. 1:13 a.m.: With racism, sexism, Iraq, the Bush Administration, nuclear proliferation, campus worker wages, police brutality, Chancellor Blumenthal, sweatshop labor, capitalism, lack of vegan dining options, and endangered species protests no longer deemed ‘trendy’ enough to sustain support, the SSS begins a time-consuming, detail-oriented, thorough vetting of all other protest options available.

An emergency meeting of Secret Student Summit (SSS) is called at Caffe Pergolesi when it is determined they are running desperately low on legitimate issues to protest.

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

Why was the historic Indian removal called the Trail of Tears? Because they marched a fucking desert, dude! There’s sand in their EYES!



„That motherfucker Andrew Jackson fucking toasted the Trail of Tears. Jackass. I could write an encyclopedia about the ironies that exist in American history and politics. The bizarrely obsessive praising of the worst modern president (Reagan) and fetishizing of the Founding Fathers into godly paragons of virtue and political acuity whose words of wisdom are beautiful pearls that should be respected and followed regardless of anything that might’ve happened in the past 200 years — sorry, where was I? Oh yes, regardless of how much it may conflict with good old common sense, America seems to be completely incapable of dropping the security

blanket of some dead white guy’s unearned mythos and greatness. And nowhere is this more evident than Andrew Jackson’s continued presence on the 20-dollar bill. Old Hickory, as he was called for his habit of being an asshole, was our seventh president. Having risen to the ranks of political elite thanks to his brilliant military strategies of “Kill all the Indians” and “Seriously, fuck the brown people,” Jackson was a purely populist President; on his inauguration he set up a 1,400-lb. block of cheese in the White House and invited poor people over to eat it. No, seriously. This actually

happened. As badass as that might sound, it represented Jackson’s dedication to completely fulfilling the whims and wishes of the unwashed masses, no matter how totally retarded those wishes were. His next big gift to the American people was his enthusiastic support for a policy of “Indian removal” translating roughly to “driving them into the ocean” or “genocide.” Andrew Jackson’s love of killing Indians combined with his constituents’ ravenous desire for land led to such fucked-up policies that even the Supreme Court told him to reel it in. Jackson’s response to being told that the oppression of an indigenous race was kinda unconstitutional? “[Supreme Court Justice] John Marshall has made his decision, now let’s see him enforce it!”; a wonderful combination of “Fuck you!” and subversion of the balance of powers. But criticizing Andrew Jackson for being a genocidal racist is a little unfair; after all, killing Cherokees was pretty much par for the course in the 1800s. It is not unfair, however, to criticize him for being a hypocritical cunt. Andrew Jackson was an outspoken state’s rights proponent; this awful enough position was made even worse by the 1800s concept of “state’s rights” meaning “we don’t have to follow laws if we don’t want to” (rather than the modern interpretation: “we don’t have to respect citizen’s rights if enough of us vote not to”). Despite his insistence on the state’s right to act like a petulant child, Andrew Jackson forgot to mention the corollary to his support: state’s rights only applied to laws he didn’t like. When South Carolina attempted to nullify a tariff because their backwards slavebased economy couldn’t handle it, Andrew Jackson flipped his shit and threatened fucking military invasion if they didn’t hand over the billz. While this unintentionally benefitted

America by jettisoning the bullshit “Doctrine of Nullification,” it illustrated another way in which Andrew Jackson was a selfish, petty bitch. Then there’s the great irony of Jackson’s immortalization on the 20-dollar bill: motherfucker destroyed the economy for the sake of political brownie points. The Second Bank of the United States, a national bank which borrowed from the ideas of Alexander Hamilton, was despised by Andrew Jackson and his followers because it dared to be more beneficial to the accursed North with its precious “industry” and “progressive economy” than the South’s clearly superior… what’s the word I’m thinking of? Right, stumpfuckers. He spent his whole Presidency fighting for its abolishment, finally succeeding just in time to get the hell out of office. The ensuing economic shitstorm fell into the lap of his successor, Martin Van Buren, who was politically fucked over for allowing the economy to puke itself to death the same year he got elected (Americans didn’t really understand how the economy worked). The Senate rightfully censured Jackson for his dumbass move, only for the measure to be later overturned by Jackson’s cronies. So yeah, the man whose jackass behavior resulted in recordbreaking bank closures and unemployment levels is immortalized on 20-dollar bills. And now you, America, you can make it rain with the biggest financial idiot in American history. Simply put, Andrew Jackson’s presence on our currency is an abomination. No, seriously. Get him off the fucking bills. He’s terrible; he ruined the country not just with his terrible policies, but with his insistence that every American should have their voice heard, and that concept is highly unpatriotic. He’s the reason people like Sarah Palin have any influence. Seriously. Fuck Andrew Jackson.

INFOGRAPHIC: What’s Giving Us Anal Leakage? Wiping Too Much


Q-Tipping My Rectum (Just To See What It Feels Like)




Boyfriend Got Drunk



Holding Back Our Farts Childbirth Voting Republican




Sesame Balls Weight Loss Medication

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008


Madonna says that music makes the people come together, yeah. I sang that the other day and someone punched me in the face.


BETTER THAN/WORSE THAN: BULLSHIT-FREE ALBUM REVIEWS Because complete sentences are a lot to ask. Of everyone. by Grant Golland

Of Montreal Skeletal Lamping

Better than: Don't Mess With the Zohan, any previous Of Montreal album, drinking silently, sadness of any kind, Kevin Barnes playing black metal, french vanilla Coffee Mate, ambiguity. Worse than: Zoolander, the awesome ways you can buy this album (like wall art or Chinese lantern), seeing Of Montreal live, straight-up sex, ambiguity. Worth Listening For: Hearing lines like “I’m just a black shemale” and “We can do it softcore if you want, but you should know that I go both ways” delivered in the highest voice this side of Prince.

Deerhoof Offend Maggie

Better than: Cheesecake and crab served at the same time, getting hooked up by your dealer (fat even), waking up to find yourself cloven of foot, boring Maggie to death, Bearsuit. Worse than: A fresh pack of butter, finding a diamond, waking up to find Patt Robertson cloven of foot, not offending Maggie but still making a really good album, imagining Deerhoof cover “American Idiot.” Worth Listening For: “Basketball Get Your Groove Back,” a bizarre track in which Japanesey-cute singer Satomi repeats what sounds like “basketball is gay.”

Gojira The Way of All Flesh

Better than: Manganese, Copper, Lead, Uranium, Molybdenium, Cobalt, Potassium, Beryllium, Vanadium, Nickel, Arsenic, Antimony, Magnesium. Worse than: Steel, Iron, Silver, Sodium, Titanium, Platinum, Mercury, Calcium, Ura-

nium, Gold. Worth Listening For: The ridiculous precision of their drummer, Mario Duplantier, who does a great job with the double bass without overdoing it.

Tobacco Fucked Up Friends

Better than: Skoal, Copenhagen, Black Gold, Chap, Red Man, chewing, dipping, gettin’ wet, sherm sticks, gutka, butts. Worse than: Camels, Marlboros, American Spirits, Kools, Newports, spliffs, smoking, toking, hitting fatties, smooth ones. Worth Listening For: Those times when you need the perfect soundtrack to watching things melt.

The Week That Was The Week That Was

Better than: Any other side project of Field Music, being unable to express your extreme bourgeois-ness, shopping from a Hammacher-Schlemmer catalogue, the red clam chowder, some of the bad Who albums, being

poor. Worse than: Most of the shows on VH1, magnetic knife racks, hang-gliding, most of the Who albums, having friends that knit things for you, exciting things. Worth Listening For: Convincing people that you are mature.

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Soundtrack

Better than: Getting your little sister an animal carcass for her birthday, eating only mall food for a year, listening to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” on repeat for an hour, your acting career never making it past “extra,” bleeding. Worse than: the first Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants soundtrack, well-prepared food, Trapped in the Closet, Jared Leto’s acting, pants that stay put, Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood soundtrack. Worth Listening For: It reminds you why you fell in love.


Don’t be a guy

from the Good Times or the local equivalent is generally a shoo-in). Don’t roll up to any event saying you’re with City on a Hill Press; bouncers only admit legitimate media outlets.

Sorry boys, but no one cares to let guys in backstage at shows. Yeah, you want to meet your “heroes” but they don’t want to meet you! That’s what meet and greets are for, so go to those, but leave the backstage area for the musicians to get drunk and hit on chicks.

Go through the air vent

Be a hot chick

The hotter you are, the more of a chance you have to fuck a rock god. Don’t underestimate a hot body and long hair. Don’t think you are cool being “in the action” and having runny makeup after the show. The more you look like a fan, the less of a chance you have.

Pretend you have cancer

None of this Make-A-Wish, puppy-dog eyes and fake tears bullshit. The cancer lie is pretty played so if you’re going this route, commit to it. Shave your head, pretend your track marks are from IVs and wear a backless hospital gown. No one turns away a bare-assed, bald hottie.

Chat it up with the opening bands that nobody knows They’re nervous, they’re vulnerable: take advantage! Say hi, tell them you liked them, chat them up and ask them what they are doing after the show’s over. They say “wanna grab a

beer?” And you’re in!

Attend shows while ovulating

Scientific studies have shown that women emit more pheromones when they’re ovulating. This can be used to your advantage as a nonverbal “come hither” to the guitarist or bassist (never drummer) of your choice! Don’t be surprised when they sniff your crotch and sigh longingly.

Talk to the fat guys with the yellow shirts blocking the entrance to the backstage area

These guys are usually recruiting hot girls that seem easy, but they have to play hardto-get because they get in trouble with their supervisors for letting people in without passes. You need to get offended if they say no, act like people are going to be really upset if you don’t show up.

Pretend to be with the press

This one takes some planning, and is best executed at smaller venues: many venues require some sort of pass, so you may want to craft some sort of card on a lanyard before heading out to the concert. The caveat: choose the media outlet you “represent” carefully (saying you’re

If you’ve ever seen Escape from New York, you know that this works in any situation, especially at a concert, where it’s too loud for anyone to hear you clanging around up there. You’ll outsmart the bouncers with this plan, because you’re not escaping, you’re entering. It also works in any state.

Make them an offer

There are lots of offers that you can make to bands that will make them want to let you come backstage. Offer to buy them pedals. Every band loves pedals, trust me. If that doesn’t work, point at your mouth and say something to the effect of “you, in here.”

Carry a weapon

Not just any weapon. Remember: this is a band, they’re artists, choose something appropriate for them. If you’re seeing a rapper, bring a barretta. If you’re seeing a death metal band, bring a battle axe. If you’re seeing a country band, why are you trying to get backstage?

Charm the guitarist with your impish and whimsical personality That shit worked for Yoko. And that bitch is uuuuuugly.

Show them your dick

If you’re a chick with a dick, the bouncer’s probably gonna want to show his friends. And chances are, his friends are all chillin’ backstage. Do this.

If all else fails, run

Find a fence that can be opened, or wait for a security guard to be distracted and sneak in behind him. Pick up some sort of heavy equipment and act like you’re going to bring it backstage. If there’s a will (or a horny vagina) there’s a way. I wouldn’t go to a huge Aerosmith show for the first time you try to get in backstage, so be sure to start local. Besides the importance of supporting local music, it can also pay off if they become famous because they will hook it up with passes in the future. Once you’ve hooked up with all the local band hotties, try your luck at festival-type shows like Warped Tour, Ozzfest, and Coachella. You’ll work your way up to making sweet music with your favorite rock stars in no time.

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008


The connection between money and music: most mainstream musicians make a shit ton of money. Too bad I’ve been downloading my whole life.


Secret to success: His financial adviser told him to invest in Vitamin Water just before it was bought by Coke, the upside of this being that he is now wealthy enough to avoid subjecting us to another “Massacre.” Notable lyrics: “I get money, I, I get money, money I got.”


Secret to success: CEO of Def Jam Records, which holds the likes of Sum 41, Ludacris, The Killers, Rihanna, Mariah Carey and Def Leppard on its rosters. Also, he’s banging Beyoncé. Notable lyrics: “Money cash hoes money cash chicks. What.”


Secret to success: Between being Puff Daddy, P. Diddy, and ultimately just Diddy, he’s won three Grammys and two MTV Video Music Awards. They don’t just give those things away, ya know. Notable lyrics: “Face on the Forbes in ‘94, I did it.”

Kanye West

Secret to success: Dropping out of college. Notable lyrics: “A lot of speculation about the money I’ve made, me and Just Blaze / How are they fo’real, are them niggas really paid?”


Secret to success: Worst hairstyle in the history of rap music. Notable lyrics: “Dollar bill y’all, dollar bill y’all. Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all.”


Secret to success: Pretty much every song that you’ve heard on the radio in the past three years was either produced by this guy or he shot it down. Notable lyrics: “Hey, I done bought that car, bought that mall / Bought my girls all Vicky draws (c’mon) / I done went to Paris, went to London / went to Asia, look what I done had (huh huh) / I done stepped my game up, my name up / my whole bank account stepped up.”

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

LIFE LESSONS FROM LIL’ WAYNE: THE IMPORTANCE OF PUSSY, MONEY, WEED by Amanda “I will take your picture and make a ‘rest in peace’ shirt of it” Smith The beginning of every school year, with so many new faces and a booming social scene, is the perfect opportunity to reinvent oneself. So this fall, after one sad pathetic summer of babysitting and living at home, I decided to mix my life up a bit. I could tell that I needed to take some pretty drastic steps in a radical direction if I really wanted to get out of the social slump I was in, but I didn’t know where to start. That was until I heard Lil Wayne’s “Money on My Mind,” and everything suddenly became clear: get money, fuck bitches. Fuck bitches, get money. Fuck bitches, get money. “That’s it! That is what I want to do!” I thought to myself. “This Lil Wayne sure hits the nail on the head!” And so began my quest to reinvent myself in the image and likeness of Lil Wayne. After close analysis of Lil Wayne’s outlook on life through his lyrics, I have gathered the following information: Lesson Number One: Money “It’s about who paper stackin’, Not ‘bout who act the baddest.” Clearly, just acting like the stupefying anomaly that is Lil Wayne was not enough; I needed a bank roll. So, I did what any rapper does before getting famous for making shitty mix tapes: started slanging an assload of drugs. And let’s be honest, cocaine pretty much sells itself; all I needed to do was show up in the ghettos of the Bay Area with kilos of blow and my glock for protection. What can I say? Rather, what can Lil Wayne say? “I’m all about my cake, I’m try’na marry Betty Crocker.” Werd. Lesson Number Two: Pussy “After a pill and a half and a shot of Patrón, I’m a pussy MVP.” Ah… to be a pussy’s most valuable player. But how? Eat some drugs and drink some liquor, you say? Sounded like a plan. And so began my search for pussy. Before the drugs and booze kicked in, my timid attempts at getting action were as successful as Sarah Palin’s attempts to pronounce “nuclear” correctly. But alas, Lil Wayne was right! Once I was rolling I must have exuded some powerful pussy waves, because girls were flocking to me

quicker than I could yell, “Bring that ass hurrrr! Ya dig!?” (To give myself credit, I do have a pretty fly swagger.) Lesson Number Three: Weed Thanks to all of the time I spent caught up in the game, to say “I got money” would be an understatement. Naturally, because money was not a problem and bitches were all over me, it was easy to keep them hooked with drugs and alcohol. Damn I looked outrageous walking down the street so fucked up that my hos had to spark up my bleezy! At first all of the stares and attention made me feel as awkward as a white dude with dreads at Rock the Bells, but once I got used to it, I felt as comfortable as a white dude with dreads in an Environmental Studies lecture. Everything in my life has finally come together, thanks to Lil Wayne’s advice: dealing coke gives me a fat bank roll, I get plenty of pussy for obvious reasons, and drugs are more accessible than Rick Astley music videos on YouTube. (Thanks Lil Wheezy!)

Lil Wayne, the face of a role model „

REVIEW OF CITY ON A HILL PRESS’ REVIEW OF MOUNTAIN ANIMAL HOSPITAL by Grant Golland City on a Hill Press Arts Reporter Lani Conway starts her article vaguely, with images of forests and flashlight tag. But these are false descriptors, for Animal Mountain Hospital’s music does not conjure the feelings of magic and naturalism that they so clearly aim for. Instead, their essence is better encapsulated in the review’s second paragraph, where Lani writes, “The game breaks out amid comedic mayhem.” Comedic is right. This album is sure to make you laugh, wince, laugh more, and ultimately, press stop. The band kicks things off with “Hey! A Trick Bike,” a song which they proceed to more or less repeat at least nine times throughout the album. This song falls into the category that most of Mountain Animal Hospital’s music does, a genre I am calling “wishes they were Tool but really are just tools.” I was unable to ascertain this from reading Conway’s profile of the band, as the only mention of their sound was from a member of the band, drummer Nick Overhauser, who says that they have “a strong emotive force” and “a dreamy rock sound, but of course not in the sleepy sense.” While Overhauser is, to my ears, the most talented musician of the bunch, his descriptions make it sound like this would be good to listen to. Sadly, this is not the case,

as most of the songs are crushingly, almost heartbreakingly, boring. In addition to the aforementioned repetitiveness of the songs, this band suffers from one of the most common afflictions a group can face: having a singer that means it, man. Jeff Carrol, whom I am guessing is the singer because his name was listed first on the CD credits, wails like a hypothetical Thom Yorke with dyed black hair, an eyebrow piercing and a serious hard-on for hitting the high notes. Also, the lyrics include things like “you’re devoured by light / so alone” and “you are not the one.” Again, Conway fails to report the awful truth, instead choosing to direct the reader’s attention to Jennifer Pond, a friend of the band who has an art gallery or something. Her take on the album is that, “Mountain Animal Hospital represents a genre of music and art that harkens back to nostalgic rock, which they then reinterpret in a modern way. They also have a little wildness to them.” This is almost true, as it is likely that the members of the bands themselves will eventually feel nostalgic for the time when they recorded it. Unfortunately for them, people who listen to their music will likely not feel the same way. And as for the wildness, perhaps music is not the best medium for them to express it. Lani

Conway, I blame my listening to this album entirely on you. But listening to this band is something I would not even wish for my worst enemy. Not even for City on a Hill Press.

„Lani Conway, the face of a role model


Great Depression Deux by Richard Sordello


Merde by Richard Sordello

Emetic Action News by Jared Rosen

Stool by Richard Sordello

Undead vs. the Undead by Richard Sordello

Nevelda by Jerome Lemont

Happiness Increases by Monty Rhodes

The Fish Rap Live! October 13, 2008

Fake news: The global economy is doing well, Sarah Palin is ugly, money doesn’t make the world go ‘round.


The Faux “News Faux You”

Vol. XX, Issue 1


In This Issue: t Secrets of the Rothschilds t Palin shotgun wedding goes awry; Bristol in stable condition

t Subway pizza best pizza in the world, says Subway t WaMu demands do-over

Obama to Host Inagural Party at Playboy Mansion By Hef Hewner In a recent Miami press conference, Senator Barack Obama announced that, if elected, his lavish inauguration celebration will be held at the Playboy Estate in Beverly Hills, California. The Senator, known to host parties of tycoonish proportions at his various penthouses, promised that this extremely exclusive social gathering will put all previous organized parties, festivals, carnivals, Spanish tomato fights, or Scandinavian renegade ice raves to shame. According to Obama, Hugh Hefner extended him the invitation after an Obiden campaign event in Las Vegas. Hefner, a polyamorous octogenarian, has been a large contributor to the campaign on account of the strong Iraq War de-escalation policy, as well as the proposed tax cap on Internet pornography revenues. It is expected that many heavy-hitters from the political, business, music and reality

television communities will be attending the party. “Hell yea Imma be there! Keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, what?!” Fred Durst chanted in a telephone interview. Durst, who rose to fame during Limp Bizkitmania in the late ’90s, has not missed an event at the Playboy Mansion in almost a decade. It is also forecasted that New Kids on the Block — in the process of making a questionable comeback — will be performing at the party. Other rumored acts include Wu Tang Clan, Avril Lavigne, and a reunion performance by 2 Live Crew. Senator Obama ended the conference by saying that he has plans to release a sex tape in the future, as well as found a record label that doubles as a high-end clothing line. After greeting several associates with his notorious terrorist bump, the Senator yelled, “I’m bigger than Diddy bitch! Everythang real big!” before exiting the room. A call to Diddy’s rep was not immediately returned.

A mother I’d like to udder

The recent economic crisis that has befallen the United States has caused banks to go bankrupt, workers to stop working, and hedge funds to stop hedging. This economic downturn has hurt the dairy industry hardest, but some seem to have found a solution. “Cows have done us well for hundreds of years, but they just cost too much to feed,” said Hank Yanker, a Vermont dairy farmer. “We found it to be more cost-effective to bring in our wives, feed ‘em double cheeseburgers and milk ‘em.” Critics worry that this

trend will go national, leaving newborn babes and creepy breast milk fetishists to fend for themselves. “Without the nourishment of human breast milk, babies and fetishists all over the country will be defenseless,” said Greg Schmitt, a naturalist with the World Wildlife Foundation. “Wolves and other predatory animals will be looking at an easy meal ticket, except in the case of the fetishists, who will probably just fuck them when they go in for the kill.” People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) wholeheartedly supports the measure. Recently, the animal

rights organization has urged Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream manufacturers to switch to human breast milk for their product. In a statement Friday, PETA said that they view the dairy farmers’ move as “a step in the right direction.” One of the test subjects, Laura Walker, said that she even enjoyed the “tingling sensation” of the nipple suctions. “It’s a lot like this one night in college, where I drank too much wine and woke up in my bathtub with a bunch of guys,” she said. Ms. Walker failed to elaborate on the evening when pressed by reporters.

Larry Pageler Named 2008 Magician of the Year By Kenneth Lay After September’s feat of not only making three Loop routes disappear completely, but then making them reappear just weeks later, the Magician’s Council of the greater Santa Cruz area prematurely awarded TAPS director Larry Pageler the esteemed Magician of the Year award. “Really, the only way Larry can possibly top himself would be by making these routes disappear again before the start of UCSC’s winter quarter,” remarked Jan Beautz, the chair of the council. In addition to these acts of unprecedented

magic, Pageler also managed to turn the color of the TAPS operating budget from green to red — at record pace, nonetheless. Some are suspicious of Pageler’s grandiose acts, claiming he had the help of David Blaine or Criss Angel. “No one could possibly make nearly 4 million dollars disappear from the TAPS coffers all by himself,” stated one critic. Excited fans, however, are calling for even grander acts. There have been whispers of Pageler making the entire Transit Operation disappear completely. This man is truly a legend of our time!

“Schindler’s List: The Musical” Now Most Expensive Broadway Production in History Hot on the heels of the recent blockbusterturned-musical, Stephen Spielberg has personally manned the helm for his own musical interpretation of the heartrending WWII masterpiece Schindler’s List. “It’s just something I’ve always wanted to do,” Spielberg said to reporters on Saturday, “since Wednesday.” Operating costs of the production have been estimated at $3 million a week, trumping the world’s most expensive stage play (previously “Spiderman the Musical”) at three times the cost. Many critics have expressed doubts that the stageplay can last more than two weeks with such a monetary burden, but Spielberg remains optimistic. “See this car?” he said, pointing to his nearby Escalade. “That’s another week on Broadway.” Those present were blindsided by raw human emotion as Spielberg held up his Saving Private Ryan lapel pin. “This pin,” he choked, “another five hours.” Patrick Johnston Announces Candidacy for President… Of My Heart

Moo-ve Over Cows: Dairy Farms To Employ New Mothers By Harvey Milk

News Briefs

Last week, between his upper-division econ class and the life pottery class that he takes to cultivate his artsy side, Patrick Johnston mentioned to a friend in passing that he was thinking of running for President. Of my heart. He was standing close to McHenry Library and sensually ran his hands through his hair before he muttered something that sounded a lot like “girlfriend material.” The other girls who were standing in the bushes with me were almost as excited as I was when he said this. Stacey Lewis, secondyear, passed out and had to be rushed to the Health Center, so she missed it when he dropped his pencil and had to lean over. Because Patrick Johnston has a sparkling wit and top- Patrick Johnston notch sense of humor, President of my heart he started to joke with a friend that he was thinking of running for President. And I mean, yeah that friend was a girl, but based on their body language I’m pretty sure she was just a friend, and besides, her hair was hella fug. Anyways, between his plans for the economy and special attention to increasing social liberties while improving foreign policy, some of the fatter girls in the bush started getting really sweaty. I’m no political analyst, but I mean, JFK got elected because he was damn fine. I’ve envisioned Patty Pat Pat in a suit plenty of times, and I smell victory. The only thing standing in his way is the fact that my dad’s name is also Patrick. So when my huddled masses are all sweaty and the liberty and justice for all is streaming through my veins, I might feel a little weird screaming out his name. He currently has 100 percent of my vote.

Volume 20, Issue 1  

Published by the Fish Rap Live! at UC Santa Cruz on October 13, 2008