THE
MEDIUM
Volume XXXV, Number 31 1
The Entertainment Weekly of being too exhausted to think of something funnier. www.themedium.net
box of impending doom
Wednesday, September 24th 2003
This man is wanted for drunk driving, vandalization of private property, sexual assault, theft, grand-theft, mugging, indecent exposure, public drunkeness, and child pornography charges. He is considered to be armed and drunk. Approach with caution he may attempt to mug/rape/ drive into you. Please call your local PD if you see this man.
Opinions Opinions
“I’ll touch as many penises as I want..not my fault these boys are sluts”
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
The highs and lows of being a New York Jets fan by: Michael Stanley, Editor-in-Chief
If you know me well, you should know that sports is one of my passions along with music, movies and other entertainment. This is why I enjoy being the Editor-in-Chief of The Medium, quite simply because I love comedy. Come Sundays at kick-off, I become “superfan” with my Wayne Chrebet jersey on. I have been since birth a die-hard New York Jets fan. I’ve been with them for their ups and downs, and now is certainly a down period. Last year the Jets benched their starting quarterback Vinny “Greenhead” Testaverde and chose to start their younger and later to be determined far more efficient star QB, Chad Pennington. The Jets qualified for the playoffs in the last game of the season when the New England Patriots defeated the Miami Dolphins and the Jets went onto upset the Green Bay Packers to qualify for a playoff birth. In the first round of the playoffs the Jets shut out the Indianapolis Colts 42-0. That was one of the best, if not the best Jets game I’ve even seen. The Jets lost the following week to the Oakland Raiders and were eliminated from the playoffs. However the loss became a moral victory for the new starting quarterback Chad Pennington. During the Jets second to last pre-season football game, Chad Pennington fell and broke numerous bones in his wrist, he was determined to be out between 12 weeks and the entire season. The Jets high hopes for the 2003 season were shattered much like Chad’s wrist. The Jets were to rely on the almost four decade old veteran QB Testeverde once again. Three weeks into the season the Jets are 0-3 and their playoff dreams are slowly crashing down. My team losing is nothing new for me, but when aspirations are so high and they are ruined by a strange fall, one can’t help but feel cheated.
Why Maury Povich is a Genius by Tracer
It’s 10 in the morning. You turn on the TV, searching for something to watch that will jumpstart your day. On channel 19, there’s an infomercial about some device that electroshocks eggs into working at home for $3,000 a month. On Nick Jr., there’s Fraggle Castle Muppet Adventure. MTV has an R. Kelly video Marathon feat. Ashanti, feat. Ja Rule, feat. Tyrese, feat. Ginuwine, feat. Small Child #8. Then, you haphazardly switch channels and it sits there like a shining, golden grail: The Maury Povich Show. Maury is so fucking awesome. Too bad his show sucks ass. There are two basic kinds of Maury Show: There is the regular show with guests, and the clip show of the regular show, hosted by a sincere looking Maury seemingly alone in the studio, acting as though he is shocked by the former guests’ behavior. 75% of the shows aired on TV are clip shows. That’s reason one why Maury is a genius: He uses the same shitty material to make not one, not two, but sometimes three different episodes. He’ll have a show entitled “Out of Control Teenage Hookers,” then a show “A Look Back at Out of Control Teenage Hookers,” then “Out of Control Teenage Hookers: Where are They Now?” If Maury went back in time to the temple where Hanukah originated, they wouldn’t have just got 8 days of light. All the temple machinery would’ve been well oiled as well, and there would’ve been plenty left over to cook some fried latkes in. At the beginning of the show when Maury comes out, the audience, (composed of a disproportionately large number of African Americans) claps and cheers for Maury, their leader and savior. He then quiets them down and begins hinting at the subject of the show, even though it is prominently displayed in the bottom corner. “The girls on today’s show have a special secret to tell their families,” he’ll say, while a caption in the corner reads “MOM, I’M ENGAGED TO A 27 YEAR OLD ESCAPED CONVICT NAMED LESTER.” He then brings out a distraught relative of one of the guests, usually a weeping, fat mother. “My little angel done sells herself on the street! She throws bottles at me and calls me a pig-fucking whore! I don’t know what to do!” The all-knowing Maury consoles the grieving woman, and promises he’ll fix everything. He then calls out the guest. As the guest comes down those pointless stairs, the audience jeers and boos. It doesn’t matter if it’s a person who survived a fall from a hot air balloon into a vat of molten steel or an obese prepubescent prostitute. The audience yells out “Ho!” and “Slut!” and the guest yells back “You don’t know me! Shut Up, bitches!” Maury then tears the guest a new one. He’s all like “Stop being a prostitute!” or “Stop having cancer!” The guest argues for a bit, and then Maury tells us that the show will be right back. Then, right before the commercial break, you see a clip from later in the show with a large caption that leaves you wondering. There’s another reason why he’s such a genius: Maury makes you wonder just what happens in that clip. If the show is all about paternity tests, a large caption reads “ANOTHER BROTHER???” while shots of the audience and the guest gasping are shown. Why are you gasping? Gahhh! I need to know!!! When the show returns, more guests with the same afflictions as the first parade onto the stage. Sometimes they even show a video on the big TV about the guest, usually in black and white to make it seem “edgy”. On a show called “My 5 Year-Old Drinks, Smokes, and Has Lupus,” Maury will show the audience a black and white video about a child named Darnell. The video shows random pans and close ups of Darnell in an alley while a voice over says, “I hate my mom. I drink and I punch her in the leg. I call her names like ‘ho’ and ‘pee-pee-head.’ I beat up kids in my class cause I feel like it. And I have Lupus.” Darnell will then come down the stairs, dissing the audience as he goes. Maury then gets ups and flips out on Darnell. After some fighting, Maury then sits down and tries to have a heart to heart with Darnell. “Darnell, you’re a beautiful young child. With lupus. Why are you drinking and hurting your wonderful mother?” Awed by Maury’s greatness, Darnell clumsily searches for an answer. “I, uh, have, uh, Lupus,” he says. Now that all the obese teenage strippers or wakeboarding accident survivors are on stage together, Maury addresses them as a group. “Now you all have been misbehaving terribly, stripping like that or wakeboarding like that. But that will all end today. Come out Sergeant!” At this point a large black man named Sgt. Screen or Sgt. Crush or something like that comes out and screams at the guests. The audience goes crazy, cheering on the Sergeant, yelling “Yeah you go!” and “Get those bitch-ass niggas!” The guests are going to boot camp, regardless of what their problem is. But in all this there is more evidence of Maury’s genius: The drill sergeant is black, which immediately makes him 10 times as intimidating. If he were white, one of the teenage delinquents would probably backhand him and send him to an area hospital crying for his Mommy. But in making the drill sergeant black, Maury ensures the guests are scared shitless that he’ll go ghetto on their punk asses, especially if they are white trash. Most of the rest of the show is dedicated to showing the guests struggling to do push ups or running through the woods and falling while the sergeant yells, “You’re not a blind paraplegic hooker, now are you?! Huh?! Answer me!” Then comes the miraculous part of the show. Maury brings the guests back after their several grueling hours at “boot camp.” He calls them out one at a time. They stroll down the steps completely reformed, while cheap, upbeat music plays and the audience cheers. If the show was about drug dealing 6 year olds, the crazy, cursing, coke-fiend toddler from earlier in the episode is wearing a tuxedo, carrying a rose for his mother, and speaking with a British accident. This is the ultimate reason Maury is a genius: All problems are solved in exactly one hour. Not forty-five minutes, not an hour and fifteen minutes. ¾ of the way through the show, Maury never says, “Well, everyone is reformed and cured. We still have fifteen minutes left. I’m going to stare at the camera blankly now.” Of course most of the guests are only cured temporarily. On the update show, Maury will inform us that one of the teenage prostitutes was found selling her body on the street outside the studio immediately after the show. But that’s just the ways it goes. I guess none of the guests can comprehend Maury’s incredible greatness.
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Opinions Editorials News Jews GMG Features fArts
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Comical Personals Personals What’s Shakin
Cover by: Pat McRoch and Michael Stanley
MEDIUM
CONTENTS
Editor-in-Chief Managing Editor Business Manager Opinions Editor News Editor GMG Editor Arts Editor Faculty Advisor
Michael Stanley Jimothy Cortina Ned “Targum” Berke Aija McKenzie Jim Cortina Daniel Migliore Paul Simpson Jeff Buechner
Personals Editors Michael Stanley Steve Toboz Photographer Steve Toboz What’s Shakin’ Editor Larry Cheng Online Editor Chris Holt Advertising Manager Ned Berke Staff Artist Pat McRoch Senior Editor Aija McKenzie
THE MEDIUM is the entertainment weekly of Rutgers University. All articles are the opinions of the authors and are not necessarily shared by THE MEDIUM. Submission and business deadline is noon, Sunday. The office of THE MEDIUM is located in the SAC - Cubicle N. All correspondence may be addressed to THE MEDIUM SAC Box 78, New Brunswick, N.J. 08903. This issue is dedicated to girls who like running trains on guys...I’m the pitcher, YOU’RE the catcher! Sluts!
Retorts to Retards: The Targum Still Sucks
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
“The entertainment weekly of long-ass articles”
Editorials Editorials
Much like the Daily Targum, Ned Berke tries to promptly correct all errors of substance. So when I described, in an article two weeks ago (“The True Furmanski” 9/10), Targum university editor Carmen Cusido giving executive Vice President of Academic Affairs, Phillip Furmanski, a blowjob I was mistaken. As I have been told by several sources close to her, Carmen is actually a “Catholic virgin … and proud of it.” Sorry Carmen, I should’ve fact-checked that one. Now that I’ve amended this error, in my mind I’ve found myself struggling to figure out how Cusido would be physically gratifying the faculty (for metaphorical comparison, of course). Well, when I read her article on McCormick’s “minor” traffic incident, it violently blew into my mind’s eye. So here is how I see it. McCormick’s hunched over the hood of his tuition paid Chrysler convertible, his pants around his ankles. Cusido is behind him, a sharp, toothy grin cracking over her pudgy face. Her hands are deftly sliding up and down the nine-inched jet-black member strapped around her waist. She’s good at lubing it up; she’s done it so many times she knows just the right amount so that it’ll slide in easily, but still have enough friction to make the soft, velvety tissue of the anus to tear. Squeezing the ebony monster into McCormick’s puckered brown-eye, Cusido, in all her sweet Catholic virginity, curls her lips into a snarl revealing her tongue running over her ivory fangs. As she pounds away her right hand is pinching her nipple, turning the tip a dark shade of purple. Her left hand slaps McCormick’s ass with each pound. “Oh, it hurts…” McCormick screams in between panting breaths, “but… but it hurts so good!” The “metaphor” above, of course, has something to do with her violently unjust attempt to mislead her readers, and how this shit-faced “journalist” skipped out on the important question. “McCormick’s exhaustion causes minor car accident” (9/19) is the headline of Cusido’s treacherous article wherein she uses techniques of omission of facts and innuendo to create a false picture of what happened in McCormick’s accident. It is completely unsurprising that the Targum readily bends over for McCormick. They consistently pound away, presumably to the rhythm of Cusido stroking into McCormick’s ass, with the notion that McCormick was “only exhausted” despite all the other evidence. In fact, in Cusido’s most craptacular and horrifying act of deception she writes the following: “According to the Star Ledger article, RUPD officer M. Jason Farella observed McComrick[sic] as being unstable when he talked and walked, but when asked but[sic] his encounter with the RUPD officers, McCormick said he was only ‘exhausted.’” Now, in “real” journalism it would be common practice to get a supporting quote either from the officer himself or from another witness. Instead, that fuck-slut Cusido goes straight to McCormick for a defense, as if to brush off the allegations as nothing but a child’s word and not the evaluation of a trained officer. The article follows this mind-blowing shitacular performance with the following blasphemy created to portray McCormick as a victim and evoke sympathy from the reader: “’I don’t want to say that I work myself too hard, but I’ve worn myself down,’ McCormick said … explaining the incident.” It then launches into a detailed dossier of McCormick’s day. Oh, poor him – he had a long, busy day. Maybe we should give him a raise from his already $500,000 plus salary (and the car we gave him, and the house we gave him, and the free travel he gets from us….). Give me a break. McCormick, if you can’t take the heat of Jersey, go the fuck back to Washington, pussy. But like I said, none of this is particularly surprising. My anger lies in the fact that no one is questioning the actions of the police involved. Let’s take a summary of the ‘incident’: McCormick hits a car and leaves the scene. The victim (which, despite the Targum’s ridiculous words, is not McCormick, but rather an off-duty police dispatcher) follows him home and confronts him in the driveway. The victim calls the police and RUPD, an odd thing to do in such a minor accident (perhaps he smelled the “strong odor of alcohol”). An RUPD officer notices the smell of alcohol, that he is “unstable when he walked and stood,” and that he had “glassy eyes.” Presumably, though no journalist has asked the officer himself, the officer decides that he was “fatigued” and lets him off the hook. Who can honestly believe that if this happened to any Rutgers student the same would happen? I can’t. University police chief Barry Roberson is the only person from the police department who has commented on the issue – not the officers on the scene. In a mangled and clumsily executed attempt to hoodwink the public, Roberson states that “an odor of alcohol does not necessarily mean a person is intoxicated.” Granted. However, just a few short paragraphs away Roberson also states that, “Unsteadiness and glassy eyes can simply mean that he was tired. I understand he had a very long day.” Well, that’s nice of him for understanding, but would he for us? When both the smell of alcohol and instability are present there should be, at the very least, a suspicion of driving under the influence and thus a Breathalyzer test should be given. But it wasn’t – because McCormick is the President of the university Roberson works for. When I called up Targum editor in chief Chris Lang Thursday night to ask why there was no article on McCormick’s driving escapades, he told me the reporter wasn’t able to get all of the info. “Why not?” I asked. “It has appeared in several newspapers nationwide. There’s an AP article and I think it’s obvious that you guys monitor the AP wires.” He sounded irritated after that. He then told me that “they” had to send the information. I didn’t know who “they” were, or why a newspaper needed to be sent information instead of going out and getting it like, you know, real reporters. But when I saw the article in Friday’s issue I realized who “they” were and why the Targum had to wait for the info. They were waiting for the campus public relations officials to tell them what to say. So yeah, I’m angry with this. I’m angry because neither the Targum nor anybody else even bothered to ask the questions, “What happened here? Why is McCormick an exception? Why, in light of the facts that he smelled like booze and walked funny, didn’t anybody suppose he was driving under the influence?” The Targum could have done this, but then they may have upset the faculty – and pandering to the faculty whilst fucking over the students is what the Targum does best, isn’t it? I’m still awaiting my $8.25. The Stupidest Fuckin’ Targum Ever (Friday’s issue, in case you missed it) by Mitch Kupchek
The ass-hats at the Targum hit a new low this past Friday. I’ve been reading that rag for a couple of years (that would be your first mistake - Ops. Ed.) and last Friday’s issue was easily the stupidest piece of shit they ever put out. I know they had trouble getting anyone to join their little club last year, but this year they just seem to not care any more. Their mouths are open and all the cum is dripping down onto the printing press. I’m usually not down with beating up on retards but I can’t resist any longer. Allow me to illustrate their ineptitude: 1) Right on the front page is the main headline: “State Prepares For Isabel.” This is totally adequate if the paper was coming out on THURSDAY, not Friday when Isabel was to have arrived. In using the present tense, it describes ongoing action; maybe the fools at the Targum were still getting ready as the (non)Hurricane hit? 2) At the bottom of the front page: “McCormick’s exhaustion causes minor car accident.” Yeah, that’s funny. Hopefully this matter will be covered elsewhere in this issue of The Medium, but accepting his BS that he was “exhausted” rather than “drunk” is just the kind of stupidity we’ve come to expect from the Targum. Think, Targum: he got CLOCKED at Pete’s Liquors and now he runs some dude over while he had alcohol on his breath. He’s got an alcohol problem! Do we need to show you those creepy commercials of the elephant walking thru the house? It’s only a matter of time before he’s caught injecting heroin into his erect penis (thanks, Canuck!) and the Targum says he “was found administering insulin to himself.” 3) Page 3: “New greek organization geared toward Queer men.” Uh, this is sad. I recall that the first rule of news reporting is something like, “‘Dog bites man’ isn’t a story, ‘Man bites dog’ is.” So, obviously any headline linking “greek” and “Queer” isn’t news. Especially if “greek” refers to a Rape Fact..., er, fraternity. 4) Page 5 had a nice article on Voorhees Hall, obviously ripped from the Rutgers website. 5) Inside Beat is once again useless, save for the coupon to Pooja Indian Restaurant (best mango lassi in town!). 6) Getting to the Opinions section and the good ol’ Laurels and Darts, they give a Dart to Hurricane Isabel for “ruining the weekend.” The dumbfucks at the Targum don’t even read their own weather report (page 2) or they’d know that even if Isabel hit NJ hard, it was going to be a nice weekend. 7) The column itself I won’t beat up on, tho it is hilarious to see an alleged Philosophy major talking about the “miracle of life.” This section of the Targum is always reliable unintentional humor. At least it starts with the words, “Each time a man ejaculates...” 8) And last but not least, WHERE THE FUCK IS MATTIA??? I know, it’s early yet so maybe the new Targum staff is getting their shit together. Hopefully they’ll keep this crappy work going instead.
NEWS NEWS
“( @ v @ ) That is to make up for the lack of boobs so far. Look for some next week.”
Charlie Manson Coming to Rutgers By Brian Dwayne Hexagonal! Yeah!
Although the widely diverse student population has enriched the lives of RU students and helped to combat prejudice, RU faculty feels that it is not good enough. “Over the years, we’ve enlightened students to different cultural backgrounds and made great strides in the fight against racism, but students still remain ignorant and do not accept social deviants, circus members, the insane, and mass murderers. For example, most students view rapists as evil people, but have they ever gotten to know a rapist? Have they ever played Truth or Dare with a rapist or even talked long into the night about their lifetime aspirations with a rapist? We aim to fight this ignorance by coloring our already colorful student population with a multicolored group of serial killers, rapists, characters of folklore, bearded ladies and mutants,” explains the Dean of Admissions. The college is now recruiting students from mental institutes, circuses, prisons and the Deep South to enlighten students to a very oppressed group. “We are a minority. Everyone thinks of us as freaks. We just want a chance to show people that we are good people too,” says serial killer Charles Manson. Next week, the college will be hosting an oddity awareness week where students are invited to broaden their horizons by listening to what some of the world’s most misunderstood people have to say. The week will be kicked off by Charles Manson who will speak about the horrors of being black labeled as a serial killer. The following events will include programs such as “The Truth About Aliens,” “Bigfoot Hurts Too,” “Understanding Michael Jackson and the Pedophiles,” “Behind the Hair: The Truth about Bearded Ladies,” and “Spend a Night with a Serial Killer.” The diversification has left some students feeling uneasy. “This is such crap. I don’t want to go to school with freaks. I don’t want to view the world through a rapist’s eyes or share my room with a man with six legs,” commented Jason Wilson a junior at RU. Some students are looking forward to the change. “I think it’s about time we accepted the serial killers and the Loch Ness Monster. I mean how do you think they feel?” Students are also very skeptical about the new RU poster, which features the new students. “Ok I’m all for diversity, but this is just ridiculous. This poster has a Caucasian male, an African female, an Asian male, an Indian woman, Charles Manson, a midget, a threelegged man, a vampire, and what looks like a Super hero. I mean it doesn’t accurately depict the student population at all,” commented Derek Freestone, a RU junior. Rutgers’ aim to promote acceptance towards social deviates, freaks, and mutants has flowed into politics. There have already been two protests to fight for the voting rights of Bigfoot and the special treatment of Count Dracula.
Come to a Medium meeting. Tonight at 9:30 in Beck Hall room 003. They stuck us all the way in the basement, in hopes that no one would find us. Help prove them wrong. We’ll pay you back in ways that you can’t even begin to imagine. Don’t even try, you’ll likely just hurt yourself or something. Stop it!
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
Frats Vandalized; Brothers Outraged By Tie Adeline Porn Star Extraordinaire New Brunswick – Several frat houses on College Ave. were vandalized on Friday night/Saturday morning. Phrases such as “We suck dick!” and “U R Gay!” appeared on walls and windows. (The witty perpetrators also drew swastikas on Hillel. I don’t get it though.) I interviewed one stunned fratty, Bob, who was nearly in tears. “They just don’t understand us, we don’t suck dick. OK, so we have circle-jerks once in a while, does that make us gay? I mean, just because I often wake up with my roommate’s thumb in my anus, doesn’t mean that I smoke cock.” He then broke into full unrestrained tears. “You know, man, I’m not gay, just open minded, as a matter of fact I think I’ll suck a dick now, just so I know what it’s like.” He cupped his hands over his eyes, sobbing, and fell to his knees. Being the supportive guy that I am, I put my hand on his shoulder. Before I knew what was happening, my fly was down, and Bob was going to town on my man-pole. ‘Whereupon I proceeded to take a generous mitten-full of the deadly yellow snow crystals and rub it all into his beady little eyes, utilizing a vigorous circular motion hitherto unknown to the people of this area, but destined to take the place of the mud-shark in your mythology.’ Then I said to myself, “Wow, that was just like a Frank Zappa song.”
Doctors Unveil New “Fatkins” Diet By “Pink Eyed” Jim Cortina News Editor
Houston – Doctors at the University of Houston have announced a new breakthrough in dieting that promises to change the way people diet forever. “This is going to be bigger than Jesus.” said Doctor John Gallus, director of Houston’s dietary program. “We’ve realized that the no-carb diets are no-fun diets, and found a way around that.” He paused dramatically and pulled the lever releasing the curtains in front of the billboard for the new diet. The Fatkins Diet Revolution. So named because it allows only empty carbs and fat, while maintaining a low protein intake. A typical dinner includes Crème Brulee and a one-pound block of Mozzerella. Other options include whole butter mashed potatoes and deep-fried Oreos. Or a grilled cheese and bacon sandwich on cheap white bread with a bowl of sugar for dessert. Dieters are encouraged to drink as much beer and non-diet soda as they possibly can without vomiting. A reporter from the Sun-Tribune asked “Will people actually lose weight on this diet?” Dr. Gallus replied, “Not as such, but people rarely lose any significant amount of weight on any diet, so why not just have a diet with no strings attached? Besides, it will kill all the fat people quicker, thus reducing their dependence on state-funded healthcare, making our taxes lower, and insurance cheaper.
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Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
“Poke dat hole in dee butt!”
Honors Students Summon Elder God; Administration Remains Silent 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 By Cyriaq-O 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 1234567890123456789012345678901212345678 New Brunswick - On Tuesday, September 16th, at 2:37 PM, the squidheaded Elder God Cthulhu materialized on the roof of Brett Hall and started arbitrarily blowing shit up with his eye lasers. It took the RUPD approximately 45 minutes to detain Cthulhu with a banishing incantation that requires a virgin, a rabbi, and a messianic individual known as “The Chosen,” a.k.a. Chad Kowalski, UC ‘05. When the incantation was completed, Cthulhu told onlookers in ancient Mesopotamian to “[f]uck off, you loser carbon-based undergrads.” His physical form then spontaneously combusted into a fine mist of Xenon gas. Authorities presume his soul fled back to the sunken tomb city of R’leyh, where Cthulhu shall wait until humanity’s extinction at the hands of unholy forces. Luckily, nobody was injured, but the sound of Cthulhu’s voice (which one onlooker described as “sort of like Mike Patton from Faith No More…if he was God…and totally crunked.”) caused the toilets in nearby Hurtado Health Center to spew geysers of blood. Large chunks of Brett Hall were also transmogrified into 3-foot-long demon fetuses during the mayhem. This has been the fifth time in the last three semesters that Cthulhu, the unholy star of novelist H.P. Lovecraft’s classic horror tale The Call of Cthulhu, has risen from the murk of the 56th dimension to terrorize New Brunswick. It is common knowledge that honors students are responsible for his appearances, yet the McCormick administration has remained conspicuously silent. A Brett resident Sexytheparaplegic chicks baring all! Hot to trot explained situation under the promise of anonymity: “Most ofwithan these honors kidsnumber were sociallyof repressed in high school, so once women odd appendages! they get to college, they really cut loose. First they try drinking, then they smoke Where you seethey allstart this? The millennia-old Medium Elder Meetweed, then theycan get laid, and then summoning Gods. I mean, I have friends who occasionally fuck around channel003! Nyarlathotep for a ing, Tonight (Wednesday) 9:30andBeck weekend, but when these honors kids hit the dark arts, they hit them hard.” Our informant attributed Old Queens’ unresponsiveness to the campaign to improve Rutgers’ prestige. “You have these students with high GPA’s and SAT scores, and McCormick’s not going to jeopardize admissions because nerds love the occult. Instead of confronting the students, the administration just covers it up. That’s why the Targum only prints boring-ass articles about web sites and jaywalking.” Students are growing tired of the constant Cthulhu attacks, especially Chad “The Chosen” Kowalski, who is simultaneously descended from the bloodline of Christ, mentioned by name in ancient Toltec prophecies, and the reincarnation of Cochise. “I was glad to help the first couple times, but now McCormick needs to take the prerogative and crack down on those fucking geeks. The last time he appeared, I was in the middle of my Sociology final. My teacher wouldn’t let me make up the exam, DESPITE the fact that I had saved the universe…again.” Kowalski added that both Rutgers and students are pestering him to solve other paranormal phenomena. “One time Alexander Library’s copy of the Necronomicon started biting off students’ fingers. Don’t look at me, I’m no Library Science major. Some kids in Tinsley keep asking me to exorcise a poltergeist in the laundry room. CALL 2-INFO, YOU FUCKING FROSH.” Occult activity in the Busch campus honors dormitory, McCormick Hall, has luckily been kept to a minimum. However, rumors that students have been replacing their cortexes with bio-organic microchips remain pervasive. Super Machine Intelligence Numitor J, RC ’06 and a representative of the McCormick Hall government, responded to these allegations telepathically while this reporter was sleeping: “We at Arcology Cluster XK43 are just <SKRONK> a bunch of normal <ERROR ERROR 110101> students.”
www.hometown.aol.com/nikeo02 www.pinkeyedjim.com
NEWS
Ritter Death “Not Discouraging” to ABC Producers By Patrick “O’” Reilly (No Relation)
Hollywood -With the untimely death of John Ritter, star of TV’s “8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter,” ABC has decided that after airing the final three episodes featuring the late actor, the show will continue on as originally planned. ABC network executives have decided that they will use Mr. Ritter’s corpse to play the main character, Paul Hennessy. They will also be using remixed audio of Ritter from various roles in his past career to make up for his corpse’s lines in the sitcom. People wondering how this will be done should know that Ritter’s corpse will be hung on a rack with wheels and manipulated by puppeteers off camera. ABC has released a new poster for promoting the revised show, and will continue to air it in the 8 PM time slot on Tuesday nights. The Article that Sparkles!
New Brunswick Rapist Caught Police Say “Coincidence” By Ryan Beckman Staff “I used to be Editor In Chief” New Brunswick - This past Sunday night the New Brunswick Police department took one Ramero Gutierrez into custody. “At first,” commented Officer Dickface “we just wanted to fuck around with a minority for a while, but then we got to thinking… maybe this guy is a real criminal.” Gutierez was thrown into the back seat of a police cruiser at the corner of Easton and Somerset where he was promptly buttfucked. “After we taught the perp his lesson, we brought him in to the station.” Sergeant Pooondick told me. It was at this time that Rutgers University President McCormick was leaving a counseling session with the Police Therapist. According to an onlooker, when McCormick left his shrink’s safe arms he walked through the main entrance where “shit went down.” At first when Officer Dickface and Sgt. Pooondick walked through the door they could only hear sobbing. “That’s when everyone noticed McCormick crying like a little girl and pissing all over himself,” the onlooker said. “He pointed to the guy the police had just brought in and said, “he’s the man who mugged me.” Police then beat the man unconscious and allowed McCormick to defecate on him. At this point a Rutgers Undergraduate named Francine Looseth was brought into the station for choking a man to death with her thong. “She started screaming and bitching about how the man that the President had just shit on was the same guy who raped her.” Officers then proceeded to “smack the bitch” and tell her to shut her fool mouth up. The Police Chief issued a statement earlier this evening saying that “I’m thrilled to have finally caught the man who so savagely robbed the rich man… I mean Rutgers President.” When asked if he was relieved that the rapist was behind bars he said, “I promise to find the man who has been raping girls for the past few years.” When it was re-explained that the rapist was the same man as the thief the Chief said, “those sneaky poor bitches, lucky for them he fucked with someone rich.”
Send News to pinkeyedjim@hotmail.com Send sexy pictures too. www.themedium.net
GMG
“Us, and Them. And in the end, we’re only ordinary men. ”
Penetrating Douglass, Part 1 By Brian Dwane “No man’s ever made it out alive. No man’s ever made it out to talk about. Legend has it that man cannot survive in an atmosphere of all women, there’s too much gabbing about nonsense. You’ll never make it out alive,” warned an old man with a glass eye, who just started talking to me for no apparent reason. “Don’t go in there. Please God don’t go in there!” screamed a girl who apparently wanted to ride the Brian Train all the way to orgasm peak. “I hear all they do is have sex,” said the kid who lives next door to me. Since the founding of Douglass in 1918, there has been a lot of folklore surrounding it. The male population of Rutgers knows only a little about the Douglass dormitories through folklore and personal fantasies. Masturbation has been our only connection to the inside of Douglass. I caught the kid next door to me in the act. “Hey can I borrow a...” I started to ask. “It’s not what you think! It’s not what you think!” He screamed. I turned around and in fifteen seconds he was finished. “I couldn’t help myself,” he whined like a little bitch. “It’s the Douglass girls. I got too close to one. She brushed up against my side and I think she put a spell on me. Ever since I’ve been masturbating constantly. They’re evil. They’re probably up in their Douglass mansion planning our demise now as we masturbate. I know it!” Having never masturbated before, I couldn’t understand why he needed too. Maybe it was because the girls had put a spell on him or maybe because he was 21 years old and had never been with a girl before. I decided to embark on a dangerous mission in investigative journalism. I was going to sneak inside the Douglass dormitories dressed as a woman and live to tell about it. Disguising my masculinity was no easy task. I have rippling muscles and am incredibly handsome. People sometimes tell me that I’m too masculine and good-looking and that women have trouble containing themselves around me. Most girls don’t wear underwear around me because I make them so wet that they ruin them.
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
Submit to me! Featuresed@yahoo.com. I’ll send you a nice email about how cool you are. And maybe eat your pussy too. And by that, I mean your cat. I hate cats. But I love Chinese Food. Lion-o was a Thundercats pimp By: Ed MacMüffen I was sitting around a while ago, watching reruns of Thundercats on the Cartoon Network, and then suddenly a thought occurred to me. I know a thought when it hits me, too, because it doesn’t happen all that often. My idea: That Lion-o guy was the Thundercats’ pimp! Seriously, before you start laughing at me, think about it: The dude would never be caught dead without his fur coat. No, strike that, you’d HAVE to catch him dead for him to give it up. Another thing, too… the dude was always surrounded by hairy pussy. All kinds of hairy pussy, too, he was an equal-opportunity pimp. You like long and slender pussy? You’ve got Cheetara. You want big and burly man-pussy? Then Panthro is the darkchocolate treat for you. Wild pussy more your thing? Ol’ Snarf will let you do it to him doggy-style! Hell, even if you’re into the kind pussy that’ll land you in prison, there’s always the Wily twins! A few more things occurred to me too, while I was watching the show. Lion-O had a special glove he put on just for when he needed a good backhand. I mean, that thing had spikes on the knuckles! He’d always have it on him, even if he wasn’t wearing it. I don’t know about you guys, but I wouldn’t want to get bitch slapped by that thing, it would probably leave a big red claw mark on my face. Yes sir, Lion-o was the man! And boy, if anyone ever made the mistake of giving that cat a hard time, he sure knew how to handle it: He’d yell “Ho!” for all to hear, his piece would grow bigger (it got to be over two feet long!), and if you didn’t start running right then and there, you can be sure he’d make you his bitch, too! And of course, who can forget the famous Lost Thundercats Episode, the one where Cheetara didn’t have Lion-o’s money and he kicked her to the ground? “Bitch better have my money next time!”
To be Continued...
Haiku’s by: Stan, Dan, Rarisan and Cheezisan Under five feet tall When she gets onto her knees She's the perfect height Not to her place did I go, and blue balled I am That little slut bag I’m AZN bitch The kids call me the Panda What the fuck is that? Two chicks and one dick Any man’s wildest dream come true God Damn I woke up! I can’t think of one I’m so asian I cook rice Ha Ha Stan wrote this Lion-o says ho Thundercats are on the prowl Cheetara is hot Six beers in the bag Six more beers to go tonight Am I an alki?
Hey Ladies! We don’t have nearly enough pussy in Beck Room 003. So be there tonight at 9:30, when we’ll turn into vampires and suck your blood.
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
Features
“Free Yayo”
MEDIUMOL OGY MEDIUMOLOGY By: Guney Aeries
March 21-April 19
At a moment when you’re most relaxed about whatever you’re doing at that moment, a lame old Indian man in cream colored loose clothes and on a walking stick will come up to you and shout poetry into your ear, in Hindi. Shortly after, expect to realize that you’ve fucked up something major at your task. That’s what happened to poor Youri Gagarin. He made 17 rounds around the Earth for a better place only to find himself fall back in Russia. But the question is was he an Aries?
Taurus
April 20-May 20
Libra
Sept. 23- Oct. 22
You’ve got the honorable task to figure out the following questions for the rest of us this week: How come women don’t kill each other at a duel over a man? How come if something is a matter of honor it means that a man will end up dead stupidly (but honorably)? And how come we don’t say “got lucky” when a woman gets a man into the bed? What’s the relation between gambling and sleeping with a woman?
Scorpio
Oct. 23- Nov. 21
You’ve been socializing more than usual lately. Don’t panic, you’re not turning into a Sagittarian. You’re not that apt yet. And your spot on the couch is still perfectly concaved. When we hear what we hear and we see what we see it is reasonable that we think what we think.
When will you stop flirting? Get to the action already; time is running out. When homosexuals mate they don’t reproduce yet their number grows greater every day. Not that anything’s wrong with that. Shrinks really help. At first you are ashamed that you pee in you bed. You go to a shrink and you’re cured. You still pee in your bed but now you’re proud to pee in your bed.
Gemini
Sagittarius
May 21-June 20
I know, it feels so awful and unfair to make a choice and exclude the other options in your life. Forever, sometimes. Cosmos has a remedy for this pain: don’t pick an option, be picked by options. “He who has lived as thinking being / Within his soul must hold men small / He who can feel is always fleeing / The ghost of days beyond recall.”
Cancer
June 21-July 22
When will this chaos and uncertainty end pour l’amour des ciels? Captain Cousteau seems to disappear. You feel like you are the only one left on Calypso. And plus Isabelle is coming this way full fury. You think soon you’ll be standing stark naked in the middle of ruins. Go to that bar in Savannah and drink Southern Comfort until the storm is over.
Leo
July 23- Aug. 22
You will experience adversity that seems to be coming at you from all angles except from 48 degrees northeast of you - a midget in that angle is trying to be your friend. The world may seem torn out from under your very core but you’ve got a hold on the answer, which is kept secrete by the midget. You’ve got the strength and that is the bravery within you; courage to grab the midget by the collar and scare him shitless until he tells you the answer. The curse is that if the midget spills out the beans he’ll turn into this hideous monster, who is sure to bite your head off afterward. Well, my little brave cup, the other option is that you can come to a Medium meeting and we can make an answer up for you together. It’s a family there. Really. Incestious though. But beats being an orphan.
Virgo
Capricorn
Expect the best gifts ever on your birthday: pilates machine, yoga mattress, foot massage gift certificate, pms prevention guide book, weight-loss manual… But not surprisingly none of these will help you; eventually you’ll go on with the routine, getting sick every other day. Your creativity is inexhaustible when it comes to creating illnesses for yourself.
Dec. 22-Jan. 19
Something may have hurt you recently that took you by surprise. A lot of people may have told you to quit your job, quit school, or your boxing lessons. But your inner voice is telling you to stay with it even if it is hazardous. Wasn’t it the same voice that told you to play around with that thing? In the world of religion the rich donate charity to the poor, in the world of atheists the poor help themselves.
Aquarius
Jan. 20-Feb 18
There are two kinds of people: bullshitters and bullshittées. We won’t call you one or the other if you reveal every time a Libra bullshits and say “The difference between a libra and a bull is that the bull sometimes stop shitting.” They have serious questions to answer, they can’t afford to bullshit. The question of the week for you: Do Goddesses live eternally longer than Gods?
Pisces Aug. 23-Sept. 22
Nov. 22-Dec. 21
It’s miserable inside your head now. It’s like Notes From The Underground. And Dostoyevsky is not around anymore to make a sense or art of it. And you keep going to technocrats for an explanation. They give such long answers that you forget what your question was or why you asked it to begin with. You go to economists but for them everyday is 1930s, without the cool dresses and pearl necklaces. To balance it out, you might wanna watch a Terry Gilliam movie.
Feb. 19-March 20
Do you know who Coluche is? Well, he’s heard God say: “I fairly share everything between the two: The rich gets shit loads of food and the poor gets an appetite that can eat any shit whatsoever from the rich.” That’s why the poor prays before the meal: “May this shit go down my guts easily!” It’s you spiritual Pisces burden to remind god that he’s doing a shitty job dividing.
Beerman’s Drinking Game of the Week: Drug Dealer By: Beerman Hey kids! It’s your favorite alcoholic superhero back again with yet another game intended to get you fucked up. So try this in your dorms, ‘cause I know damn well you’re bringing alcohol in there. And for those of you who don’t, stay tuned for next week’s feature: “How to Sneak Alcohol into a Dorm Room, Guaranteed!” Object of the Game: For the Cop to successfully catch the drug dealer. How To Play: You’ll need some cards for this game. Start with an ACE and a TWO. Then take picture cards for the remainder of people playing. If you have 6 people, you would use 4 picture cards, get it? Mix the cards like you’d mix roofies into some slut’s drink, and each player then takes a card, and looks at it (But SSSH! Keep it a secret.)The only cards you have to worry about are the ACE and the TWO. If you pulled the ACE, you are the drug dealer. It is your job to wink at one other player to make your “drug deal”. If you pulled the TWO, you are the cop. Guess what you do. (Hint: Catch the drug dealer by watching for the wink, or, guessing like you do on exams.) Once the dealer has winked, anyone who saw it can say, “A drug deal has been made.” This is when the cop reveals himself and makes his guess. How/What You Drink: Depending on your drinking ability, you can alter the how much you drink. Beerman likes to play that if the cop guesses incorrectly, he drinks half a beer. If the cop catches the drug dealer, the dealer must drink half a beer. If the dealer is stupid enough to wink at the cop, the dealer must drink an entire beer.
Wednesday, September 24 , 2003 “My heart beats a distorted 909 kick, 180 times a minute.” Arts 1234567890123456789012345678 1234567890123456789012345678 1234567890123456789012345678 “Not your Local Carnival” (part 1 of 2) 1234567890123456789012345678 1234567890123456789012345678 by Chris Acker 1234567890123456789012345678 1234567890123456789012345678 Something was wrong, dreadfully distorted. It was either me or everyone 1234567890123456789012345678 I took out my girlfriend Kelly to the annual state fair to make up for yes1234567890123456789012345678 else. terday at the movie theater when I walked out and left Kelly behind with my tub 1234567890123456789012345678 1234567890123456789012345678 of popcorn and half-drunk can of soda. That so-called movie was what I 1234567890123456789012345678 MUSIC REVIEW!!! By the Volcano Worshipper!!! wanted to get away from, not my girlfriend, but she took it the other way, the 1234567890123456789012345678 Knifehandchop: Rockstopper (Tigerbeat6) RIGHT way, the way where I might have been wrong but was too afraid to 1234567890123456789012345678 know then. A carnival - a place for romance, handholding, good times, and all 1234567890123456789012345678 After releasing a few albums and several 12"s on Irritant, and a few 12"s 1234567890123456789012345678 that crap. I figured it was the best place to make up for the movie incident. A and comp tracks on Tigerbeat6, Billy Pollard drops his first AMG-ac1234567890123456789012345678 fair wasn’t my idea of fun, especially when I found something gloomy in knowledged full-length on TB6. And holy shit is this a fun album. 1234567890123456789012345678 state even a sunny day - sunburn, pollen count, and eye cataracts. But considering 1234567890123456789012345678 In general, the formula for most of these tracks seems to be to take my relationship to Kelly was dwindling because of me, treating her well at the 1234567890123456789012345678 samples from various dancehall or hip hop tracks, and just add really 1234567890123456789012345678 carnival was just about my last chance. cheesy, simple dance beats. Like, the most stereotypical dance beats ever, 1234567890123456789012345678 We met up at the front ticket booth. It would have been a hassle to pick her to anyone who hates dance music. For the most part, the results are 1234567890123456789012345678 up at her house with all of the traffic from road construction. Chivalry was widely entertaining. 1234567890123456789012345678 outdated anyway. I vowed to be on my best cheerful behavior, without a scent 1234567890123456789012345678 Among the highlights: “Dancefloor Seizure”, KHC’s take on ragga-jungle; 1234567890123456789012345678 of pessimism. I was a cynical old man at the age of nineteen and that didn’t “Not For Tha Ladies”, which mashes up Redman, dancehall, drum’n’bass, 1234567890123456789012345678 mix with a girlfriend, come to think of it, it didn’t mix with anybody. The pain of 1234567890123456789012345678 and squiggly acid synths; “2 Sexxxy Booty”, which mates 4/4 house with buying both of our tickets made me realize how hard it was to let go of that 1234567890123456789012345678 booty bass; a few excellent vocoderized electro tracks (most notably skepticism for just a single night. 1234567890123456789012345678 “Transition Emotion”, one of my favorite songs of the year); and different 1234567890123456789012345678 versions of a few tracks that have been around a while that have some of ”How was the traffic,” I asked. 1234567890123456789012345678 the best song titles ever: “Hooked On Ebonics”, “Bounty Killer Killer” ”Traffic?” 1234567890123456789012345678 and “Taking The Soul Out Of Music.” Not to mention the gabber tracks at ”Yeah. All that construction off of Route 17.” 1234567890123456789012345678 the end. Kelly said in the blandest of voices, “there was no traffic.” 1234567890123456789012345678 1234567890123456789012345678 I couldn’t help myself. “It really doesn’t make any sense to work on the roads There’s so much other fun stuff here. This album certainly isn’t going to 1234567890123456789012345678 win any points for “intelligence”, but at this point does anybody give a during rush hour. We should leave early because the traffic going home will 1234567890123456789012345678 shit? Party album of the year. be ridiculous.” 1234567890123456789012345678 ”They stopped construction for the night.” th
Another Music Review!!! by Brian Dwane!!! LA’s Hottest New Artists The roof is getting a little low so you might have to raise it while listening to this tasty album. When three accountants from the suburbs team up to rap about the problems that affect the rich white kids: three car garages, olympic size pool and spam on the internet! Better pick up this cd off the floor because it is off the hook! It’s the icy-hottest combination of rap and soft rock. It’s like Guster meets Dr. Dre or maybe Jars of Clay and Eminem. If you like to rock safely then this album is for you DOOD!!!!!
You don’t need water to come to the Medium meeting, tonight at 9:30PM in room 003 in the basement of Beck at Livingston, nor do you need water to submit articles (reviews, stories, Friendster requests etc.) to me at volcanoworship@yahoo.com. So, water you waiting for?
”How do you know?” ”I just do.” Traffic didn’t interest Kelly and how could it have been interesting; it was TRAFFIC. Cars spewing exhaust into your vents, horns honking, a constant state of stopping, looking at the gum on the pavement. Starting the night not with a hug or a kiss but with traffic wasn’t a good sign. Fuck-up number one, but surely not the last. Enter the carnival. I’m sure you all have been to some sort of a local bazaar, the ones I find pretty much tolerable. The kind of carnival where local folks volunteered at games like Dunk-Your-Mayor or Pie-the-Local-BaseballCoach. This was not your local carnival, but the coked-up state fair. “Always Look at the Depressing Side of Life.” So depressing you couldn’t even make fun of it, like walking out of a bad movie that you had trouble making sarcastic remarks at. Sad, dismal, even with Kelly at my side. ”What do you want to do first,” I asked. She walked a few feet ahead of me. “Let’s eat.” ”Are you kidding,” I thought but luckily caught myself. Almost fuck-up number two. “OK, I’ll eat light.” Sure, funnel cakes, zeppolies, and cotton candy taste great, but have you ever seen the people who prepare them? I mean really watch them cook the food, not just while on line for two minutes, but stalking out the kiosk for half an hour (I admit that I have problems). It only took one cough from the server without cleaning her hands to get me fleeing from the kiosk, followed by my imagination fluttering about what the server may or may not have done to the food. A. Absolutely nothing. B. Spit in my meal. The thought of either was more than enough. ”I’ll have the sausage and peppers,” Kelly said to the kiosk lady. ”I wouldn’t trust that here.” Kelly handed the lady the money. “You are aware that every carnival serves sausage and peppers,” Kelly declared. ”But that doesn’t make it any better.” Fuck-up number two, definitely.
“I’m not fat, I’m a beautiful little girl....” - Helga from The Oblongs
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
“Q: What's the difference between an abortion and sand?”
Fuck coke killa, we need submissions. Send all the twisted personals, pictures and what not to personals@themedium.net, and make sure you send them from a Rutgers e-mail address scummer.
(Answer to header, you can't eat sand.)
To the Andrew Keegan look a like who eats fat mojos at the grease trucks. I love it how the mayonnaise drips down your chin. I wish we could get together so I could do naughty things to you. I’d give you the best head ever and let your juices dribble down my chin just like the mayonnaise. I'm stuck in traffic Still waiting to see the crash I hope someone DIED! to my haiku for the frat boy from the saturday night: making out with him i am a transexual he doesnt know it Fuck you stupid Chinks stop invading College Ave. This is the last holdout for our people! Do we have to send our token Japs to hold off your yellow horde? Math is important, math with letters is stupid. Retarded elephants are just stupid. It is easy to tell if a retarded elephant has been in your fridge because they leave footprints in the butter. However, if you do not have any butter it’s pretty hard to tell so make sure you have butter. (Maybe your dreams will come true, if they do you can finally have that threesome with the four-titted alien twins. Maybe my mother was right, I should have never dropped out of law school to chase my dream of becoming a professional mud-wrestler. Her words went in one ear and out the other like a suicidal man's bullet.) Stop asking the lawn gnomes questions that only a pink flamingo could answer. The magic 8-Ball is in the corner pocket, shake it up. Riddle me this: How many cans of campbell soup does it take to fill a bottomless pool? (First off, just because their gnomes doesn’t mean they don’t know. And they don’t like to be called that, they prefer midgets...) Fuck the NY Yankees, they suck so much and I hate the fact that they buy a fucking championship. All of the Yankees are fuckin’ homos who love the cock and take it in the ass in the cockerroom.
To that stupid slut in my fucking spanish class, learn what comedy is. When The Medium says Bob Saget died, it’s a fucking joke. Haha, have you ever laughed before in your life? My god I hate people like you who can’t understand what comedy is. Do us all a favor, never have kids because we don’t want idiots like you running around! (Wow, that is fantastic. I agree with you 100%. Some people are just plain stupid and don’t understand comedy and they ruin it for everyone else)
Personals FOR THOSE WHO DONT KNOW ME AND THOSE WHO DO... 1) THINGS YOU'LL HEAR FROM MY MOUTH a. "What's poppin?" = "What's up?" b. "Yo nugga" = "Yo dude" c. "I was thinkin in my head" = too much debauchery d."uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhuuuhhuhuhuh" = my usual response Everything was great I thought you were my soulmate But then you farted (Cheezi’s are much better...) NYJ c’mon what the fuck? You guys need to get your shit together or you’ve got no chance at taking a spot in the playoffs. 0-3 isn’t a huge deal, but 0-4 is harder, don’t worry chad will be back soon. Let’s go JETS!
President McCormick’s To Do List (As stolen from his desk in his super -private office)
Personals Down With Free Speech! Up With Miniskirts! To the girl who sits in the front row of my 3rd period calculus class, take a good piece of advice you strumpet and SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU DUMB WHORE!!! You babble on about absolutely nothing and you ask the dumbest questions in the world, I just want to hit you over the head w/ a tack hammer. Plus you look like your face got run over by a lawn mower. for the sake of all humnaity, do the world a favor and go play in traffic you no talent assclown Look Nick. Look, seriously, look. I got the personal in the medium. Goaddamnit, look Nick. Now I can say what this quiet roomie has been wanting to say since the beginning. YOU'RE A FUCKFACE-but in the nicest way possible. only pussies sleep their sorrows away real men drink them away “Time for Swiss Cheese!” Signed, Wanton, the Kung Fu Giraffe Damn it timmy. Dont float above me when im dying in the abyss To that sexy Cook Rec Center boy. I've wanted you ever since last year. Sorry if it seems like I've been stalking you. It's just a coincidence because we are meant to fuck. We could stay after hours at the gym together while you get your exercise throwing me up and down while I ride you obviously large Connecticut cock. (Although it is true that guys from Connecticut have unusually large cocks, they also have unusually long and thick pubic hair. I’m talking rain forest shit…) To the slut that was in the Rutgers student center monday, fifth period at wendy’s with the shirt that said “ this is what a real feminist looks like, i want that shit, i wanna be a big butch lesbian like you. I wanna chop my hair and tape down my boobs. The product of the day is…
Ahhhhh, boy does it stop the itch and burning… www.themedium.net
“Don’t touch me you drink. Don’t touch me you giant beverage…”
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003 Hello, my name is. (Your name is???) Hello, my name is. (The suspense is killing me…) Hello, my name is Slim Shady
(Ahhh you original fucker. Never did I see that coming…) Wow, incredibly funny, what a top notch joke. It’s just like the song, but it’s in a personals column, and the way it’s written with the spaces like that to convey the breaks in the actual song. Alright so it isn’t funny at all, but I do think it could have been the product of two 13 year girls in 1999 posting jokes about Justin Timberlake in the unofficial They say 99.8% of all rapes Tigerbeat message board. are by men. Where exactly can And in a fit of blinding comei find the 0.2% of the girls that dic brilliance, one of the girls enters the above Emeniem text, obviously kick ass??? which fits in with whatever they dear old man on the motorbike "Your love is disgusting..I'm Among other things, I guess were talking about, and they driving past the student center gonna go take a whiz" beezer my biggest problem is that I both write LOL and put smiley NEED GAY SEX WITH A today, you suck balls, plain and faces next to the sub-msg it must be nice to have a COLLEGE BOY. A really simple. Sincerely, Ted header. life,...me, I am in my dorm butch one - Jewish a plus To my Patel and Singh jiggaz: room on a Saturday night in (Vomiting…) Sali Kuti Chutia Mader Chod! Boston listening to Bach. Blah. (I'm not, but who cares.). I'm Den Ekreb is yag, like a ho30, 12 pounds overweight, I wish you all a TERRI GHAAN MAIN LUND! (There isn’t anything wrong NOT BLONDE, looking for mosexual. Am I the only chick in the AND PAKIS ARE STILL in listening to bach. O wait, sex only. Serious replies to ha ha, your gay…) netsurf814@aol.com. country who finds Donald SOOVERS! (My word, this is the last time “I came here for my hi five, but School sucks--let's have sex. Rumsfeld incredibly sexy?? And of course by incredibly I ever print shit I cant i see im already here, and i have By the way, the Medium is a snake on my head.” Home a fucking hack job. Keep up sexy, I mean someone get him read…) the good work. Star Runner drunk enough to get him to surTo those guys who vandalized To that girl in my Expos 101 (Well, for one, this wasn’t gically remove his right testicle the frat houses and Hillel on class, section BS, you have the what I had in mind for a per- for medical donation, then get Friday night, keep up the good most beautiful "dick-sucking" sonal, but I guess you gotta him more drunk another day, work. Love Richard M. lips. Please Wrap them around do what u gotta do. If you and get him to break into the To that super hot bitch i talk to my stiff, pulsating cock, and fuckers sent in shit, I hospital to steal his own tesall the time on the GG. Next move your mouth up and down wouldn’t have to print gar- ticle back, get him drunker to time i see you, i will have $100 it until I shoot my load in your bage like this…) eat it, and watch him choke to dollars in my pocket. You stick mouth. Thanks, Baldy. This goes out to our boy Rob death on his own testicle. So you hand in there to get it and sexy. (Poke that hole in ye butt…) who thinks he can fool all of its yours. his friends by making up a bullshit story about a lost Expos grade. We all know it was the gay sex with Kevin that took up your study time and caused you to fail out. Or maybe it was the concussion at the 25 ta life show? Didn't want anyone in Nutley to know you were going to community college so you come down to Middlesex everyday? You know there's only two bitches mean enough to write this to you, you got a (For two weeks in a row now, problem come find I have received pictures of us...Church Hill 3:00. --IYQ- girls willing to show at least (Hard core hatred, a little vio- some to get into the paper. Now you get your ass to The Me- lence, and a crack about a Unfortunately, I have redium meetings every Wednesday at community college! Yes, I ceived a few from NONthink this is a good per- Rutgers e-mail addresses. 9:30 in Beck (Livingston) 003. sonal…) This is a must lady’s, a must. But rest assure, your pictures My cousin makes me steal from Yeah, it’s in the fuckin basement. are being taken care of. And Wal Mart Come or we will give your tetanus… (What an ass tooth...) thanks…)
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003 Hey this goes out to that slut who I know takes it in the ass. I can swear I saw you walk into that brothers room at the frat house. You took it in the ass like the fucking whore you are. Anal avenger awaits you in the quads! (This personal couldn’t have been more general. There are tons of sluts here and tons of girls who give it up for two cups of Natty Lite and half of a fat knight.) To all those dickheads out there who think it’s cool to rice out their cars and make them sound like lawnmowers. Do us all a favor and crash them into buildings on campus. It’ll be great for all of us when they have to cancel classes. Hey Nicole sorry I didn’t pick you up on monday. Classes went out early and I didn’t get that parking spot I usually do. Also, thanks for scoring me that cake a few weeks ago, it kicked ass. Let me know the next time you make some cake, I love cake, mmm. (Is this the same Nicole that was written about last week. The hottest girl on campus? It seems that the girl is quite a popular female on campus.)
Personals 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 12345678901234567890123456789012123456
“Strongbad did a jig while holding all the grapes, and the Cheat learned to fly!”
This personal is to the FUCKING WHORE who is sitting next to me right now. Why don’t you shut the fuck up, I can talk in the computer lab if I WANT TO. This isn’t the fucking library, so why don’t you take your herpes infested ass and leave the lab. Big fucking deal I was talking, it’s a fucking public environment. So get back to your calculus and don’t open that mouth again, unless you’re asking me for anal, which well.. i’d do with two rubbers. (Yes, yes. I know the type. The type that doesn’t understand directions and needs to ask some asian kid in her class for help. She could be attractive if she kept her mouth shut.)
to the stupid bitch sitting next to12345678901234567890123456789012123456 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 me in the computer lab on12345678901234567890123456789012123456 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 monday night, why don’t you12345678901234567890123456789012123456 fucking shove your purple 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 Come to this weeks meeting in Beck 003, 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 pencil up your anus. 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 it’s in the basement of Beck at 9:30. There Lost: my dignity. If found,12345678901234567890123456789012123456 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 will be candy and hookers. Ok I can’t please call 732 555 0420.12345678901234567890123456789012123456 promise candy, but I can promise hookers! 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 Please take care of it while it's12345678901234567890123456789012123456 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 Beck 003 9:30pm Wednesday gone, it means oh so much to12345678901234567890123456789012123456 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 me 12345678901234567890123456789012123456 (Slut, no one cares at all. If To all you hippies: Stop trying Oh, Dougie B-man! Put on a you’ve just lost your dignity to live in a different era. Stop shirt you fat bitch! now, that’s amazing! Most drinking your startbucks Tazo Yo Tom the biggest alcoholic I girls lose it much quicker, tea. Stop wearing sandals or know, you better fucking invite when you give up your dignity go barefoot. Stop smiling and me to a party or something. for a cup of beer, or some saying "cool beans" while you Same goes for your hetero life cheap beads here at school) listen to your hippy music. mate Ernie.So many fun times i love sexy rugby chicks. why Stop wearing dirty beatup were had last year, and I don't they throw themselves at clothes and take a god damn planned on having more this me when i go to their parties? shower to get that grease out year. Yeah, and find my fucking State tape, I want that! that would kick ass...but it of your hair so you stop (Too bad The State was pursmelling like I can only imagine never happens. and i am sad chased by CBS and killed afa yeast infection smells like. (Rugby parties are the best ter one special that they did I hope you and your hemp parties i’ve been to on camjewelry spontaneously com- no promoting for. I pray to pus, greatest people and best god, or whoever exists that bust into flames atmosphere. Wednesday is a they release the state seasons to that asain kid sitting next to whacking day!) me in the computer lab...why on DVD or something. Good Once the game is over, the king the fuck does your hat have a thing the foolls at Comedy and the pawn go back in the zipper on the side? is it so you Central decided to release same box can let the lice out for air every Season 1 of UCB on DVD. (Heh, heh, box. You know box now and then? seriously 11/4/03 UCB Rules!!) is slang for vagina right? dude...whats your damage you This goes out to my film teacher Heh, heh, vagina...) who knows NOTHING. If yellow piece of...uh...cheese to you motherfuckin palestinian you’re unsure about something (Yeah, real great finish there sympathizer that threw that say it, don’t lie. Also I believe dickface, why not comment fucking pie into that Jew's face that the class isn’t supposed to on how he makes railroads, the other night, you better not strictly be on what you think, if or dru-cleans your clothing, have stolen that shit from I wanted to know what you or even makes you a nice Brower cuz when i got there thought I’d ask you. We want side of pork flied lice) that night there was none left a comprehensive view on the so i resorted to stealing the Reno 911 is the best show on history of film. Also don’t show fucking whipped cream cans TV right now. It’s got 1/4th of movies that are fuckin’ way to and huffing sweet sweet nitrous the state since it was 12 people long, just because the period till i passed out and woke up and there are 3 people on the is 3 hours long doesn’t mean with my pants around my show now. Basic Math tells you need to cram 3 hours of ankles and captain commons you 3 = 1/4 of 12. movies into the period, we do (I concur, yes Reno 911 is a have lives you know! zipping up his fly (The whole pie in the face is great TV show, but here’s a Oh my god, I want to get laid such a great way to attack tad bit of advice. Skip the so badly. I see all these cute someone, just almost as good original showing at 10:30 type girls with huge fuckin’ as the “map of Hawaii” on after South Park and come gazongas on campus, c’mon, to our meetings, then catch take your fuckin’ tops off and someone’s back or the “necklace of pearls” you can the rerun just after midnight. let a brother see some nice That’s what I do, and it tittles bobbin’ up and down. give a very special girl) works quite well for me!) We need more tits on campus Oh, hot girl Nicole, so are still so hot. I’m not sure if you saw Hey fag on the EE every MW, more then we need buses, last weeks issue since it wasn’t shut the fuck up, we all don’t since tits make us happier then out on time, but I’m sending you want to hear about your queer a bus ride... unless it’s with topanother one to say how hot you weekends with your “friends” less chicks. are. You should know who you Submit your personals to are, if you aren’t ask around, personals@themedium.net and see all the I’m sure a friend of yours could shit you’ve said right in this paper. fill you in. *hint, hint* Nine out of ten people institutionalized in Croatian mental If you’re lucky, the personals editors might hospitals recommend staying even make fun of you! the fuck out of Croatian mental hospitals. Deep fried jell-o is the snack food of the future and Just think you can show all of your friends once I get this time machine how you made it into the paper. Tell the working, it will be the snack frat guy he sucks or the girl across the hall food of the past as well.
To that girl I saw in the computer lab that is 4 foot 10. So different yet hot. Short girls are hot, especially since Shakira is 4 foot 10 and oh my god so hot. I’d give just about anything to do her. To be honest I never thought someone that much shorter then me would be attractive, but god damn I was wrong. Best thing that happened on 9/11 was I saw a Shakira music video on MTV. If it to the gorgeous girl sitting next weren’t for those towelheads to me in the comp lab...you I’d not have seen Shakira, smell like blue-rasberry blow- well at that time... pops....i got a blow pop for you (Oh, Shakira! You are right here! without a doubt the best (I think it’s the same kind of export from Columbia! So “blow-pop” that requires at sexy and so short!) least 5-10 minutes and is con- Life is short and hard like a sumed better when there are midget with an erection. If two girls instead of just one?) condoms were made of your face is real big, especially kevlar they would offer two your forehead, why don't you forms of protection. If you drive a shiny car, you die, chink shouldn't stop for directions james, you fucking in the ghetto. Why don't you cockgobbling cumguzzling just use the onstar buttton like piece of shit i fucking hate you i Batman, because people in hope your penis falls off bitch the ghetto can't go a night ass whore go fuck a bitch get without Robin' some herpes dont ever speak (Reminds me of the Bloodto me again. love, lindsay hound Gang song, “life’s swm looking for big-titted asain short and hard like a body to fulfill sexual fantasies, must be building elf, so save the in shape, willing to be pissed on. planet and kill yourself!) bestiality a plus. shaved cunt a DOH, the stuff, that buys me must. meet me at the round thing beer/RAY the guy who sells in front of the college ave lab me beer/ ME the guy that monday night at 8. don't be late. drinks the beer/ FA the dis(Ha, ha! Big-titted asain, I tance to my beer/ SO i think believe you mean “asian” but i'll have a beer/ LA lalalalala a big titted asain might be BEER/ TEA , no thanks I'll easier to find since the asians have a beer/ which brings us are generally smaller in size, back to DOH if you know what I mean...) to that sexy black chick i hooked up with...sorry about www.nottheonion.com the whickey dick...my faux www.notthemedium.net (Blah, blah, blah.. BORING!) pas
she’s hot! Send us personals!!!
What’s Shakin’
“Every morning as I pour the Vodka into my coffee, I think of you, and forget to stop pouring”
Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
In my 19 years on this planet, I have spent the majority of my life thinking about the really serious questions. So today, because I’ve got to know all you Rutgers students so well, I’m going to share with you a revelation. Jesus has a dark side, a side that must be kept in check or else the consequences would be devastating. See, Jesus was in fact, the Incredible Hulk, cursed from birth to roam the earth as an outcast from society, hunted by the people he wants to help and love. There is no salvation for him, until he can control the beast inside. So there you have it people, the real truth about Jesus Christ, or should I say, Jesus Hulk.......
Seeking Authors The Joyce Indik NJ Wordsmith Competition is look for authors. The Deadline is 10/15/2003. For more information or an application contact: VSA arts New Jersey, 703 Jersey Avenue, New Brunswick, NJ 08901 or call (732)745-3885
www.Ilovemartinscock.com
Stand-up Comedy Wed, Sept. 24-Rich Vos, Cory Kahaney, Dave Mordal atThe Downtown, Farmingdale, New York Thurs, Sept. 25-Arnez-J Comedy Explosion at the Westbury Music Fair, Westbury, New York Thurs, Sept. 25-27-Tom Cotter at The Stress Factory, New Brunswick, NJ Thurs, Sept. 25-Laurie Kilmartin, Eddie Ifft, and Greg Carey at Stand-up, New York Thurs, Sept. 25-28-Paul Mooney at Caroline’s, New York Fri, Sept. 26-27-Mike Destefano, Sam Greenfield, Dan Naturman, Greg Rogell at New York Comedy Club, New York Sat, Sept. 27-Kevin Flynn, Bill Burr, Daryl Joyce, Dean Obeidallah at Gotham Comedy Club, New York Sunday, Sept. 28-Russ Meneve at Caroline’s, New York
Send in events to me at: events@themedium.net. Please do so I won’t have to put up pictures of aborted fetuses.
Throwin’ feces: It’s not just for monkeys anymore.
Come to a Medium meeting on Livingston. It’s going to be at Beck 003. Because I gotta be nice, I’ve provided a picture of Livingston campus for you. Oh yeah, it’s going to be at 9:30 P.M. so be there or I’ll rape your family... nah I’m just kidding, just your sister.
Music Fri, Sept. 26-Harmstryker , Dev79, illcosby, dataclast at 193 Hamilton St. Wed, Sept. 24-An Evening with Elvis Costello at Town Hall, New York Thurs, Sept. 25-Built to Spill at Irving Plaze, New York Thurs, Sept. 25-Severance at Birch Hill, Old Bridge,NJ Fri, Sept. 26-Sharkys Machine at Marleys Ale House, Ewing, NJ Fri, Sept. 26-Useless Knowledge atThe Cove, Roselle Park, NJ Sat, Sept. 27-Guster at Penns Landing, Philadelphia,PA Sat, Sept. 27-Spotin Wood at Sayreville Bar, Sayreville, NJ Sat, Sept. 27-Overkill at Birch Hill, Old Bridge, NJ Sat, Sept-27-The Starting Line atRoseland Ballroom, New York Sat, Sept. 27-Ugly Friend at Club Crannell St, Poughkeepsie, New York Sun, Sept. 28-4 Way Street at Theater of Living Arts, Philadelphia, PA