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Stabby the clown exactly as funny as advertised

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The Weekly Enema Eugene, Oregon

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Eugene Homeless Unite in Support of Global Warming

By Jordan Eddy A group of homeless vagabonds began a strike outside of Springfield’s city hall today. Shirking their usual activities of moaning softly on sidewalks and scratching mirrors in public bathrooms, they came together to protest the election of Barack Obama. The group calls themselves Homeless Oregonians for the Promotion of Envirocide, or HOPE. Founder Sandy Brown,

holding a sign marked “Carbon emissions saved my life,” explained how he got the idea for the organization, “Sometimes I get cold and sneak into the movie theatre,” he said, “The day I saw An Inconvenient Truth was the best day of my life.” Realizing that he had discovered a solution to global homeless suffering, Brown quickly founded a grassroots movement to up carbon emissions, raising the world’s temperature and ensuring a comfortable

Legal Update: Patent v. Copyright By Jackson Hager So you’re sitting around with some people who can tolerate your presence, just shooting the shit, and you come up with a million dollar idea. How are you going to keep those inbread little pukes from stealing your brilliance? The answer can be found in that most American of past times, litigation. But one thing has many a potential billionaire stymied: Should I file for a copyright or a patent to keep my soul-sucking friends and family from making a single dime off my ideas? Let’s say, for example, that I come up with a brand new sexual position. We will call this position “The Perforator.” I guarantee it will blow your mind, but that is beside the point. The question I have to answer is whether my Adonis-like lovemaking abilities are something that I would have to copyright or patent to guarantee royalties for every, well, performance of my work. The general rule is that copyright is for intellectual material and patents are for physical inventions or processes. While I certainly put a lot of thought into The Perforator (timing, depth, scented oils, etc),

it would not be a copyrightable idea unless I was willing to call it a piece of performance art. There’s also a problem with the fact that The Perforator only lasts 5 or 6 hours, and is therefore a non-permanent piece. It’s hard to copyright something that only shatters your sense of reality for a few hours. Six times a week. But now I’m in a tough spot, because patents are meant for physical inventions. As much as you might want to patent “A Way to Make the World Better One Titanic Orgasm at a Time,” That’s just not what the US Patent Office is for. In some countries, you can patent techniques instead of technologies, but blame our Puritan ancestors for leaving that tempting option out. Thankfully, in the end the whole patent vs. copyright debate does not really matter, because this article was just a thinly-veiled scam to attract hordes of gullible women hoping for satisfaction. I would say you won’t be disappointed, but honestly, I’ve built this whole thing up so much that I’ll probably just lock you in my basement for 15 years.

Volume 2, Issue 4

environment for the homeless year-round. He organized several events, including the Group of Disheveled Homeless Men Smoking on MLK Boulevard Summit of 2006 and the Food Stamp Methane Emission Bean Feed of 2007. In hopes of keeping rich white people off sidewalks and in their gas-guzzling SUV’s, HOPE mobilized volunteers to pee on Springfield paths and drag road kill into its bike lanes, “Global warming is like Robin Hood,” said HOPE treasurer Stinky Pete, “If I have to barf on pedestrians, I will.” “The Bush years have been a golden age,” said Brown, “The rich white people were pouring millions of tons of CO2 into our campaign.” Brown claims that George W. Bush may have added years to his life, “My liver may still be the size and color of a burnt peanut, but at least my toes are no longer frost-bitten in the winter.” Now, after a fierce but unsuccessful campaign against “clean energy whore” Obama, times are looking different. “Obama represents the biggest threat to the well-being of the poor and homeless population since the Kyoto Protocol,” HOPE member Joe Wentzelbak said, “This is a person who wants to try and reverse the greatest public works project ever to grace the planet.” That’s why HOPE plans to mill around aimlessly outside of city hall until, in the words of Wentzelbak, “somebody does something.” So far, Wentzelbak believes they have elicited quite a response from Springfield residents, “Someone sold me See HOMELESS p. 8

Your Mom is Free

In This Issue you will find:

Highbrow legal analysis!

How to hunt a turkey in a way that would make the Pilgrims proud! A whole new way of lying! The mysterious Sinatra-bot revealed! Tales of woe from behind the counter! The quandary of voting versus nachos solved! And much much more!

Edugraphic: Important Holiday Dates You are allowed to begin starving yourself in prepartation for holiday binging: Nov 13 You are allowed to buy eggnog: As soon as it goes on the shelves and every day thereafter

Hunting Turkeys Like a Man

You are allowed to start thinking about Christmas: Nov 25 and not a moment before

By Chris Shumacher Turkey hunting has been an American tradition for centuries. Rifles, of course, have been the way to go, but come on people, we are the free, we are the brave, and rifles just seem like a lazy way out of making hunting for thanksgiving dinner even more festive. The best way to make the holiday more festive is to hunt the turkey like a real man. You have to become the turkey and learn its ways. You have to smell like a turkey, sound like a turkey, and possibly even seduce like one. The first step one must take is to remove the human instinct. You must remove the fear, and become part of the habitat. See TURKEY p. 8

You may hang a wreath on your door: Never You may begin Christmas drinking: 8am Dec 24 You may end Christmas drinking: 8 am Jan 4

Senior Twitter Correspondent

Our Mission The Weekly Enema is published by a couple guys and their friends. We don’t get any money, respect or furtive sexual encounters in the supply closet for doing this, so we are understandably bitter. The Weekly Enema contains only satire and parody, so if you even think about exhibiting moral outrage or taking legal action, then your parents probably didn’t love you enough. Just to be totally clear, we do not assert that anything in this rag comes anywhere close to the truth, facts, medical advice or even good writing. Before you hate, just remember that a whole mess of white dudes died and/or wrote boring documents so we could have the right to make cruel fun of you and your stupid face.

Staff Editor-in-Chief Jackson Hager Publisher Kai Davis Design Jackson Hager Web Master Kai Davis Managing Editor Bruce Jeffryes Contributors Sunflower Goldschmidt Doctor Richard Liebgott Emily Balloun Chris Banta Hannah Belair Jordan Eddy Collin Gerber Jacob Hutchins Thomas Kramer Jacob Sauvageau Alyana Shulman Chris Shumacher Syndicated Writers Dave’s Secretary at Work Merlin Mann Christian Lander Comic Artists Ryan North Randall Munroe Jesse Reklaw Justin & Drew Winston Rowntree Kate Beaton David Malki ! Wes & Troy Jacob Hutchins If anyone actually reads this, we will send you a shiny penny. And for reading this sentence, we’ll take our penny back and give you a swift kick in the face.

Merlin Mann Guessing Red Lobster never considered that “Endless Shrimp” might be perceived less as a bargain than a harrowing existential threat. A surprising number of people in LA look like they were just asked to leave a Poison video Either our neighbors have started a halfway house for people who look sad and tired or some depressive hobos have bootstrapped a daycamp. “Belly dancing and open mic nite”.You call it an advertisement; I call it a warning. NPR reminds us how personally rewarding it can be to empathize with interesting poor people for as long as eight minutes. I just did something involving a doorway and a very wide box that I’d only previously seen happen in a Laurel & Hardy short. I stopped reading books. There’s nowhere to add my avatar, I can’t leave anonymous comments, and they NEVER add me back. Books are elitist. Oh, really? You’ve got me “on speaker?” Well, I wonder how many jaw-dropping expletives I can scream before I’m “off speaker.” On three... We’ll never get these guys to quit saying “FAIL.” At this point, it’s in their DNA. Like steampunk, Cheetos, and crying while masturbating.

Letter from the Editor Why do I do it? A question often asked, but never answered while sober. Until now. What reason compels our merry band to churn out this little paper week after week? Well, I can tell you right now what it’s not. It’s not money. I have never made a dime that we didn’t immediately spend on the paper. It’s not because I have a ton of free time and no life. In fact, several of the staff have things that closely resemble normal lives. Our staff is all students or former students, who ought to be looking for jobs or at the

very least getting laid instead of typing crap like this at 7pm on a Saturday night. And it’s not for the respect. I mean, I’m sure I would enjoy respect if it ever came my way, but there’s really no way to tell until it happens. Which it never does. To be perfectly honest (read: not funny) I do it for the person who comes up to me on the street, issue in hand, an tells me how glad they are that someone is finally not taking shit so seriously, or how they were thinking it and we wrote it, or just congratulating me on my mammoth balls. That’s right, I don’t do this out of some misplaced sense of responsibility to the community. Obviously we don’t have a moral imperative to bring you the news or anything like that. If this paper can make you laugh or, God forbid, think, then I’m happy. And you should tell me you’re happy. Then we can all be happy. And if you feel the need to compliment me on the whole mammoth balls thing, then go right ahead. I won’t stop you.

fig. 1.1: Balls approximation

I LOST 12 lbs, 3% bodyfat, and 2 pant sizes in just 3 weeks. I increased my workout 200%. I will personally help you achieve the goals you desire.

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Life Skills

by Bruce Jeffryes

Lesson 6: How to Lie The best way to lie is not to lie at all. No, I’m not saying you should be honest. I’m simply saying that the best way to lie is to tell truths that you know nobody is going to believe anyway. So, when you get home after a long night of getting titties in the face and doing blow off a stripper’s ass, don’t tell your girlfriend you were at your buddies place watching Scrubs. Instead, tell her everything. Even exaggerate a little if you can. She won’t believe you and even if she starts to think the stories might be true, she’ll probably feel stupid asking. With any luck, the subject will never come up again.

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I Want You

To Write for the Weekly Enema Are you looking for a rewarding job with daily challenges, brilliant coworkers and monetary compensation? Well, the Emerald is always hiring...

Hey Kids! Lil’ Squirty Says:

But if you’d rather spend your time working thanklessly for a no-account upstart humor paper, then we humbly suggest this one. The Weekly Enema is now accepting anyone for the following positions:

Interns! You’ll be part of a fast-paced whirlwind of sex,

In the end, death claims us all!

reporting, and drugs best left to Hunter S. Thompson. Just Kidding! You’ll get us coffee, fold our papers, and dress up in a cow suit. It looks good on a resume, we promise. Plus we’ll let you change your title to whatever you want.

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Stuff White People Like by Christian Lander

Appearing to Enjoy Classical Music There are a number of industries that survive solely upon white guilt: Penguin Classics, the SPCA, free range chicken farms, and the entire rubber bracelet market. Yet all of these pale in comparison to classical music, which has used white guilt to exist for over a century beyond its relevance. Though white people do not actually listen to classical music, they like to believe that they are the type of people who would enjoy it. You can witness this first hand by going to any classical performance at your local symphony where you will see literally dozens of white couples who have paid upwards of $80 for the right to dress up and sit in a chair for hours reading every word in the program. After leaving the concert hall, white people will immediately begin telling everyone they know about how much they loved the performance and how they

plan to “go more often.” This is because white people see little to no value enjoying classical music without recognition from other white people. This can be seen first hand by looking at the plaques and bricks around all opera houses: they are covered in white person names. If a white person starts talking to you about classical music, it’s essential that you tread very lightly. This is because white people are all petrified that they will be exposed as someone who has only a moderate understanding of classical music. When a white person encounters another white person who actually enjoys classical music (exceptionally rare), it is often considered to be one of the most traumatic experiences they can go through. “Really? Beethoven’s 5th Symphony….that’s your favorite.” “um, no, I mean…” “You sure it’s not Pachebel’s Canon?” “Well, ah, I like that, ah, song” “Sigh, of course you do.”

Even the possibility of this conversa- century, Satie has risen to prominence tion happening is enough to scare white among white people because his music people into attending up to (but no more has been sampled by popular musicians than) two performances in any given clas- and featured in a number of independent sical season. Therefore it is essential that films. Dropping this name at a dinner even if you possess a massive amount of party will show that you are modern and knowledge about classical music, you do post-modern at the same time. It is also not share it with a white person regard- a good idea to tell white people that your less of how much they profess to love it. tastes in general are “modern and postmodern at the same time.” Don’t worry, It’s a recipe for disaster and shame. As a defense mechanism against you won’t have to explain it. Note: Under no circumstances should the possibility of being called out for a lack of familiarity with the early works you ever list John Williams or Danny Elfof Antonin Dvorak, white people have man as your favorite composer. started to list more contemporary composers as their favorites. Of course, the easiest way for them to do this is to choose composers with music that appears in independent films. Knowing these composers is almost a golden ticket into making white people think you are smart, but not TOO smart. The first, of course, is Philip Glass. Not only does he have one of the best last names a white person can have, but he writes music used in smart documentaries. Thus combining multiple white passions into a single artist. The second, and slightly more obscure, is Erik Satie. Composing at the end of the 19th You know, The Classics: Beethoven, Bach...Enya.

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Virus Comix by Winston Rowntree <>

Dave’s Secretary at Work Alright so I showed promise in preschool and was chosen for this special ‘early start’ program with 3 other losers in my province and we spent the majority of our kindergarten year in a museum. Kind of sweet, but I didn’t learn much and when I went to a regular elementary school in grade one I was thrown into these special ‘enrichment’ classes because of it. Enrichment sucked. It was done over half of our lunch and the ‘bright’ kids from grades 1-6 would get together and we’d be given these ridiculous projects. Anyway I remember this one year the project for the enrichment kids in grades 1-3 was to do some loser presentation of ‘The Loon’ or something, which was this totally random indian/ native american narrative that involved things like tree spirits and menorrahs and things of that nature. Anyway I am pretty sure our enrichment teacher had it all planned out in her head because she suggested we hang up a sheet and make a ton of cardboard cutouts and then buy a really powerful bulb and do a shadow-presentation where the audience would only see the silhouettes of our cutouts pressed against the sheets, illuminated from behind by the bulb. Which is kind of dumb but of course nobody felt like arguing so this is what we did. Jeff and I immediately got screwed and had to do all the cutouts for scenery. If you don’t know, ‘The Loon’ is primarily based in the goddamned reeds, which is the worst sort of scenery to make if you’re doing cardboard cutouts and Jeff and I were really having a hard time of it. I was suggested we just tape a bunch of combs together and put that up against the sheet but the teacher shot it down for no good reason and Jeff and I spent hours making the scenery. So other kids are making cutouts of the characters and easy things like that, and we’re gluing them to straightened-out coat hangers so that the puppeteers can manipulate them across the screen without their hands casting shadows and this is really turning into a big thing and somehow the teacher decides we should present this little show in the auditorium in front of the whole school. So the big day comes, Jeff and I are sitting to the side, there are people’s parents here for some reason, and the main puppeteer is this girl who I actually think was named Saddam. Saddam was responsible for the loon, and she had obviously been feeling pretty important and it was all she talked about for the last couple of weeks. So the auditorium lights go out and a hush settles over the crowds and then that single 800 watt bulb is turned on and the bed-sheet-screen is illuminated. Our goddamned reeds and trees are leaned up against it and Jeff and I smile in satisfaction because that shit looks damn good. The teacher turns on the tape deck and the room is filled with the sounds of a loon calling, bird chirps, running water, some native americans doing a pow-wow far off in the distance, you know, nature things. Then the boy who was selected to narrate begins: “Long ago, when the world was green, a single loon swam all alone in a sacred lake with emerald shores.” Or you know, something ridiculous. Saddam picks up her loon by the coat-hanger and makes the loon do this ridiculous little hoppy dance across the sheet.. That is until she accidently touches her hand against the bulb somehow. All we hear is this slight hissing noise, Saddam crying out in pain, and the loon takes this terrible fall to the bottom of the sheet and knocks over our goddamned scenery. Then all you hear is Jeff yell out “My reeds! My fucking reeds!” And like this is 1st grade. 6 Year olds don’t say ‘fuck’ in front of grownups and teachers. The lights go on and there’s all this confusion. Saddam has burnt her hand pretty badly, there’s a little ‘team’ of people attending her wounds, the enrichment teacher is trying to keep the show going, everybody is staring in my direction and trying to figure out who swore, and above all of this I can still faintly here the natives doing there little powwow heya-hoya’s because nobody has stopped the tape.

The Corner Store Chronicles An insider’s view into the front lines of capitalism

By Chris Shumacher Most students by now have worked in either retail or food service. Everyone that has knows that it is one of the worst jobs of all time. Especially food service because everyone wants everything done quickly, and exactly how they want it. I know, because I work at Subway, and am subject to torture every time I have to make a sandwich for a meth addict. Yes. that’s right, meth addicts. There is nothing more disgusting than a meth addict. I have had the queen of meth addicts walk through my door. She appeared to be sixty, but I have a feeling she was actually thirty. She stumbled in wearing absolutely nothing but a zip-up hoodie. That’s right, absolutely nothing but that. Ever have that feeling in

the back of your tongue, right before you projectile vomit? Yeah, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I could immediately smell that there was something wrong. She stumbled in mumbling in what seemed to be a foreign language. She had a gaping wound on her head that was still bleeding. She had a hoodie on, but it only went to the belly button or so. It was one of those instances where you made eye contact, and it was for maybe a second, but it felt like eternity. I felt like I died a little. No person should ever be subject to such a display. Sadly, there were customers in the store at the time. For some reason, they deemed it necessary to blame me for the naked tweaker. Several demanded that they receive a free sandwich. I was so overwhelmed with the

situation, that I just kind of froze. She was still standing there talking to the wall when I had two customers in my face, demanding free service. I was still in shock, so everything just kind of slowed down. I suddenly just freaked out, and told the customers to sit down, and let me deal with the lady. I told her multiple times to leave, but she was in some other dimension. I threatened to call the police, although they probably wouldn’t have believed me anyway. She finally turned around, but that is what I was hoping to avoid. She said something incomprehensible , then turned and left. I was relieved to have her gone, but called the police anyway because there was a half-naked meth whore running around. The two angry customers just gave up and left. That was one of the worse days of my life. Hopefully, the image in your head isn’t too disgusting. But to help out, it looked like a grilled cheese sandwich.

••••••••••••••• Yet another Meth-head Story By Jacob Hutchins A crazy meth addict couple spent at least 15 minutes today berating each other over their mutually poor choices as to what constitutes food. The man was apparently having trouble with bananas because they were not “solid food” and instead demanded candy. The woman became very flustered and started waddling around in a hurry. I began whistling “If I Only Had A Brain,” but neither seemed to notice, which is probably for the best. At this point Mr. Meth-head became bored of their discussion and tried to strike up a conversation with me. He asked something to the effect of “What’s fun to do in this town?” I told him that I didn’t get out much, but my job was usually pretty entertaining.

Oh Shit, it’s Page 4!

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By Emily Balloun At 8pm, as Pacific polls were closing on Election Night, I received a phone call from my mother: Me: “Hi mom, what’s up?” Mom: “It looks like this Obama guy is going to win. I wasn’t sure about him. I heard he was a terrorist.” Me: “He’s not a terrorist mom.” Mom: “Well one way or another, it looks like pretty much the whole world wants him to win. I guess the whole world can’t be wrong…” Me: “I suppose so…” The conversation then digressed into more of the same old mom-stuff. Questions about my eating habits, asking me for the millionth time if I had a sweetie, what my cat’s name is, and whether or not I wanted to sneak into the flea market. Mostly useless momspeak. However, my darling, crazy mother brought up an important point. The whole world is probably not wrong about how kick-ass it is that we have a new president who seems like he will stand up for our nation, and for our people. The world is looking at us with hope once again, and Kenya declared a national holiday in honor of Obama’s victory. Our President-Elect seems to have a firm grasp on what he is doing to lead the nation in a positive direction, and is making strides to keep promises along the way. Listening to an interview on NPR, he was asked about some of the pressing issues facing him in the months ahead, namely what kind of dog he was going to buy for his daughters. He responded “Our preference would be to get a shelter dog, but, obviously, a lot of shelter dogs are mutts like me. So -- so whether we’re going to be able to balance those two things I think is a pressing issue in the Obama household.” No wonder the whole world wanted this guy. Thanks for the insight mom.

Love Doctor Rick Breakin the Ice By Kai Davis As I was growing up, my mother took the time to teach me what an ideal relationship between a young man and woman, a woman and a woman, or three sweet, young, nubile, sin loving sorority sisters was. She instilled values in me that would help bring me happiness: Trust, respect, and chastity until marriage, she said, would bring me happiness with my special someone. What fucking bullshit. Trust doesn’t do shit in a marriage, guys and gals. Know what does? Elite Keylogger. Its one thing for your spouse to swear love and obedience in front of your family; its another to install an industrial level keylogger on their computer, crack into their emails, and trust yourself to only log in when absolutely necessary. The other two are worth their weight in Kosher Sea Salt. And I have news for you, salt is not very heavy. Lets say you’re 22, madly in love, and your object of affection offers to cut you off emotionally from your friends, family, loved ones, testicles and trust funds? What are you going to say to that? I do? Wisen up, Jack. Marriage is the original sin foisted upon Americans by an evil god who wants to punish homosexuals and straight people overly fond of commitment. Fuck off with your joint checking accounts and china patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may. I say, lets ban marriage. When you decide to commit and set up a joint checking account you’re saying, “Hey person whose sex organs I enjoy, take my money like the low class prostitute that you are!” All you homosexuals out their fight-



Talking Politics With Mom


SLOW WAVE by Jesse Reklaw

ing for the right to marry the person of your choice, if you want to sign your life, liberty, and happiness away in the eyes of god, state, or the eternal Fonz, well, I can’t convince you otherwise. Proposition 8’s success in California was a step towards banning institutionalized marriage. Unfortunately, it came at the cost of removing marriage equality for homosexuals. Sorry.

Pro Relationship Timeline: Within 1 week of meeting this person you realize that not only have you found your soulmate, but you’ve found your soulmate who likes to have sex 4 times a day in the bed, on the dining table, on the kitchen floor, in the changing rooms at Bloomingdale’s etc. Within 2 weeks you’re already talking about moving in together. Within 3 weeks you’re talking about having babies together. Within 4 weeks you realize this person is a complete psychopath. Within 5 weeks this person also thinks you’re a complete psychopath. Within 6 weeks you’re sitting at a restaurant with an old friend who is giving you the “How come you only call me when you’re single” speech.

LEFT-HANDED TOONS by Justin & Drew <>

A Peruvian hariless dog that is too awesome for America

This Week In Science With Prof. Balloun

Jade Vox from Eugene, Oregon writes: I went out into the woods on my vision quest to find out what my mortal soul meant to the cosmos. I ended up eating some mushrooms growing on a log and finding out what folks mean when they say “explosive diarrhea.” What gives? Is it possible for this to happen as a result of karma? Yes, this is definitely karma for all those times you rode the bus smelling like armpits and patchouli. Expert mycologist that I am, I have deduced that whatever you ate on your hippy, soul-finding adventure was not Amanita Muscaria, but rather any one of a number of gastronomically challenging mushrooms that populate our beautiful Northwest. Better throw away that pair of hemp-fiber cargo pants and consult a guidebook before eating stuff you find in the woods. Or just keep buying from your high school English teacher. Better luck next time chump.

Johnnie from Eugene writes: My mom recently walked in on my while I was masturbating and ever since she’s been presenting me with awkward literature about the dangers of self-pleasure. I’ve avoided the fire and brimstone lectures, but she really believes that continued masturbation will lead to brain damage, hairy palms, bad eyesight, and damaged sexual organs. Frankly, all this negativity has really affected my sex life. I’m forced to sleep with the light on and the door of my room open and never get a moment alone at the computer! I just bought a new laptop, can you recommend a good porn site? Your mother couldn’t be more misinformed. The transformations you undergo from continued and prolonged masturbation are actually components of a superhero origin story! Slowly but surely your body will respond to the external stimuli and undergo a super-human transformation! Also:

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S Here’s the Spin Sppiinn- voting vs nachos

By Alayna Shulman Well, whether you’ve been Pro-bama or No-bama all along, the race is run and the man has won. But what are all you Palin Pushers, McCain Mavens, and Huckabee and Hillary Habitués to do? You may be questioning whether voting is even worth the bother. Maybe that trip to the ballot box doesn’t seem any more pointed than a haphazard run to Taco Bell, 7-11, or any other fine purveyor of nachos. Well, here’s a guide to help you weigh your options come 2012: VOTING • Gives you fashion cues. Undecided about who to vote for? In 2012, go for Palin if you want to perfect her trademark beehive by Tivo-ing C-SPAN nonstop. Go for Obama if you want to hear more about where Michelle shops on The View. • I’ve heard the Student Vote Coalition breaks thumbs. And their president is one decapitated horse away from having a “Don” in front of their name. • It’s free. With the economy’s sudden implosion, I foresee an abrupt halt to Taco Bell’s “Why Pay More?” campaign. • Nothing says “I’m a self-satisfied tool” better than a propagandistic button. If your self-esteem’s been wavering lately, just try walking around campus with an “I’m with Kitty” sticker, and all feelings of inadequacy are virtually decamped.

Above: A not very funny picture from that intellectual black hole, the Internet.

NACHOS • With so many political MILFs out there such as Michelle Obama, Cindy McCain and Sarah Palin, who really wants to be the one responsible for depriving the world of the fledgling hottieVP or first lady who doesn’t make the final cut? Going out for a round of nachos to celebrate your abstaining from this unfair tilt may just be the ticket to a guilt-free conscience. • The two-party system is inevitably rife with heartache. But for just $2.49, you can head on down to your local 7-11 and exercise the inalienable right that Jefferson and co. forgot to mention: Jalapenos or hot sauce? Chili or no? Nachos – not democracy – give citizens the liberty to truly call the shots. • Even the thrill of the democratic process can’t trump the satisfying web of gooey, gooey, cheese that makes up a good plate of nachos. Just ask Mexico. • Less cleanup involved. Wet-naps fix all nacho-related mishaps – the same can’t be said of political ones. And there you have it, folks. As seems to be the case all too often with binary contentions such as this one, the contenders are neck-and-neck, leaving the public scratching their heads like a couple of dubious chimpanzees. The good news is, whether or not you decide to vote, a steaming plate of nachos is never too hard to find. Unless I end up being right about that Taco Bell thing…

5 Second Review Avoiding Greenpeace

By Emily Balloun While trekking from class to class, the UO student is inevitably bombarded with propaganda of all kinds. From “Free Hugs” lechers and the Jesus guy at the EMU to magazine-peddling con artists and various lobbyists on the corner of 13th and Kincaid, they’re everywhere. But perhaps the most egregious of all these human billboards are the pariahs that call themselves “Green Peace.” Sure, their cause at least seems noble, but when one takes into account that they work off of commission, it’s somehow a little easier to just keep walking when asked by a boisterous and unshaven man, “Are you a polar bear lover like me?” But the guilt trip that invariably ensues upon rejecting them – even when politely executed – is enough to make one give in and listen to their spiel. So, what is the apathetic student to do? It has recently come to the Enema’s attention that there is a secret

code, if you will, reserved solely for active Green Peace members. What’s that, you say? All I have to do to ward off their incessant ploys to save the environment is pretend to be a Green Peace member already? That’s right. Is it dishonest? Yes. But are they any less dishonest? Not really. So here’s the deal: when you’re walking down the street and see one of them awaiting the kill, clipboard in hand, simply touch your right elbow with your left hand. Make sure to bend the arm at the forearm so they can fully see your little esoteric hand jive. And there you have it, a foolproof mechanism to ward off those self-righteous do-gooders. Not since the Christians invented that index finger cross thing to ward off vampires has such a device promised to redeem people by the thousands. What’s that I hear? Likening Green Peace recruiters to vampires is unfair and libelous? Possibly. But we think the vampires will get over it.

Nonsense Comics by Kate Beaton <> ACME® Brand Akward Space Filler

DINO COMICS by Ryan North <>

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The Weekly Enema

XKCD by Randall Munroe <>

Welcome to Ethanology! The purpose of this column is to educate the general public about beer, wine, spirits and cocktails as well as promote craft bartending as an industry standard. On that note, let’s drink some booze! Today we will be debunking some of the most common myths about alcohol: Drinking different types of alcohol will make you more drunk. Drinking different types of alcohol will not make you more drunk, it’s all ethanol. It will, however, make you sick. Different beverages have different types of sugar and the more varieties of sugar you introduce into your body, the less efficient your body is at absorbing and processing it, making you sick. Impurities in alcohol give you a hangover. I’ve heard this one a million times. No, you don’t need to drink Grey Goose instead of Gordon’s. There isn’t really a difference between them anyway. It’s not the impurities (toxic chemicals remaining from the fermentation process called congeners) that gave you a hangover. It’s how much you had to drink. Yes, these impurities do have a small impact but in general, you are just dehydrated. If you drink a glass of water between every drink, you will never have a hangover again. You have to drink at a party to have fun. People drink to loosen up and be part of the group. This is fine, but there are a lot of reasons to not drink at that house party too. Drinking costs money, makes you less alert, more vulnerable, and makes it hard to drive home when you finally decide that you don’t really want to sleep on the floor at your sister’s friend’s boyfriend’s brotherin-law’s place around a bunch of people you don’t


even know. And let’s face it, that keg of Miller High Life isn’t all that enticing anyway. So do yourself and your friends a favor by not drinking crappy beer at house parties. Do you really want to end up like that douchebag across the room, fumbling about with a plastic cup and making an ass of himself? I don’t think so. Liquor before beer, in the clear. Beer before liquor, never sicker. This one is actually true. This is because beer is more diluted than hard alcohol and will absorb into your system slowly. So if you drink three beers and then four shots of Jäger, you are not only an asshole, but are effectively taking four shots of quick absorbing alcohol while you are still absorbing the first three drinks. By drinking shots before beer, you can feel the effects of the alcohol consumed more accurately before moving on to can’t-stop-peeing-on-my-wall drunk. On a side note, eating before consuming alcohol will delay the absorption of alcohol into the bloodstream as well. Some people can drink more than others because “they can hold their booze.” While some people can drink more without becoming as intoxicated because of their weight or sex, everyone reacts to alcohol in the same way. Alcohol is ethanol and ethanol is a poison. Two young males of approximately the same size may exhibit different levels of drunkenness but they are absorbing the ethanol in the same way and if either of them ends up with a BAC of .4, they are at serious risk. In short, don’t get trashed at parties to impress others how much you can drink. It’s not impressive and you are not only going to make an ass of yourself but will probably feel like shit in the morning too.

Amazing Superpowers by Wes & Troy <>

UNSUNG, UNAMERICAN HEROES this week: SARAH PALIN Yes, Americans, it is odd for us to start off a section about Unsung Un-American Heroes with a piece about, justifiably, the most American hero of all time, Sarah Palin. But bear with me. Sarah Palin is the most badass VicePresidential Candidate of all time, even counting future candidates. An unholy fusion of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s torso, the Fonz, and the queen alien from Aliens couldn’t even come close to her majesty. The G.O.P. is so scared of Palin that they’ve dispatched fleets of lawyers to the frosty shores of Alaska to recover nearly $200,000 of clothing purchased on the G.O.P. dime*. Sarah Palin has such a large amount of sac that she attempted to upstage John McCain during his concession

speech by announcing her candidacy for President in 2012**! This alone would earn her a place in most people’s Top Ten Balliest, but to to truly be considered 90% sac by volume requires something really special. Thankfully, Palin has no shortage of things that boost her bad-assness to astronomical levels. She hunts and then devours moose, and in what is sure to be a mighty clusterfuck of a sequel, The Weekly Enema staffers are eager to see Sarah ‘Let’sBan-Some-Books’ Palin return to the Presidential spotlight in 2012 versus Barack ‘Baby Face’ Obama.

Specializing in: Author and artist websites Graduate student CV sites Blog, photo, and music sites Print design of all kinds Banner, poster and ad design Photography and videography We are small, local and cater to college students and young professionals. |

*Seriously. **We wish we were making this up.

Page 7. Move along, nothing to see here

Overheard this Week: “Speaking of breakfast food, that party last night was a TOTAL sausage fest.” - Annoying sorority girl in the Brainerd lab

Where to find us: Allen LCB

“Dude, I’m on my way to the Beta house, but can you drop off my turquoise Lacoste polo there?” - Poster boy for the Greek system


“Stick in there and spoon it till I say stop!” -Man referring to soup spoon at subway “Dude it totally fell asleep, and I had to massage it to get it up.”

Knight Library

“I’d like to eat you like a piece of pizza.” - Actual pickup line used at Fathoms ”Dude, no. I’m not talking about regular purple...It’s like, a whole ‘ just gotta see it.” -Guy talking about who the hell knows what on his cell on S. Willamette.

TURKEY from p. 1 Camouflage suits are nice, but homemade ones are better. When you first arrive in the wild, discard your clothing. You must hunt as a man, not a rich hick who sold out to the big gun company. Since it is fall, mud will be readily available. Go cover yourself in it. Your heat signature should be completely hidden by the mud. Now that you have become one with the habitat, it’s time for the turkey to come to you. You will need a female turkey. When the female is in sight, slowly approach. Since you are covered in mud and have completely become one with the habitat, you will be invisible. Approach from behind and snap the neck like you are giving your grade school buddy an Indian arm burn. You will hear a crisp snap. Beware of the talons. You want those. After the female turkey has been killed, tear off its talons. Talons are long, sharp, and perfect for impaling male turkeys with. By now, a remud may be in order. Before you recoat yourself in mud, rub the dead female carcass all over. You now smell like a female turkey. Your goal is to seduce the male. The female’s musk will be the perfect bait. Once the smell has become part of your being, recoat your entire surface with mud. The talons are naturally sharp, so no need for any alterations. Now is the waiting game. Male turkey’s are always on the prowl for female turkeys. Once the dominant male smells the musk, he will even kill the smaller, weaker, and less plump turkeys to get to you. It is the perfect situation; the best turkey is coming while you, the ultimate hunter,

will be ready. Hold still at first, and let the turkey get close enough that you can see the red in it’s beady little eyes. When it is ready to go to pleasure town, thrust the talons into its torso, or if you are in a good enough position, plunge the talon through the neck. The male turkey will fight for survival. We all know the story of how the body may survive after the head is removed, especially in poultry. Once the talon has been put into the neck, use the other talon to impale the lungs or heart. Congratulations to a fierce hunter who is now the proud owner of the alpha-male turkey. Your family and friends will thank you for the best turkey anyone can eat. Plus, you will have the ultimate satisfaction of killing the turkey like a real man and exercising your freedoms as an American. Hoo-rah.

HOMELESS from p.1 some really cheap weed—a clear showing of support for our campaign.” Springfield’s mayor, however, has yet to notice that the homeless men are doing anything out of the ordinary. While the men wait for a miracle, HOPE is still in action. Brown is planning to increase carbon emissions by leaps and bounds through a series of intentionally-set wildfires known as ‘The Stumbling Through Public Parks with Lit Cigarettes Caucus.’

Beatin’ Up The Mix

Phenomenauts Collin Gerber For All Mankind, the third full length album from Oakland, CA’s own Phenomenauts, brings the rockin’ retro danceability that exploded onto the New Wave and Rockabilly genres with their first two albums, Rockets and Robots and Re-Entry. The Phenomenauts, known for their themes of space travel and intergalactic adventure, keep that never-tiring motif going in this album, coupling it with their trademark synthesizer and dexterous but gritty guitar work.

This five piece Bay Area band has made a name for themselves not only in the retro/ rockabilly scenes, but also in new wave circles, creating sounds reminiscent of Devo and the B-52’s. This album, while consistent with the music they made for the first two albums, has a stronger focus on the synth work and danceable drum beats, whereas in previous works, their very original rockabilly sound was more present. This album is all original works, minus one very unique cover of a 1983 Polecats song, “Make a Circuit With Me”, clearly showing off the band’s rockabilly roots, talented compositions and creativity. This band is a blast to see live, as people who saw them at the WOW Hall 2 years ago will say, and this album, as well as their others, creates an intoxicating cacophony of sounds, imagery, and good times. Check them out at or

Page 8. Can it be over so soon?

The Weekly Enema

Vol 2 Issue 4  

The fourth issue of Volume 2 of The Comic Press

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