Issuu on Google+


EDITORIALS

“Too bad this isn’t back when women didn’t count...”

Wednesday, September 25th, 2002

The Importance of Being Chandra EiC’s Corner: Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

Benny. What is it? Is there a cure? -jes deveraux

Here’s the dilemma. You’ve started a war out of your own personal issues, and now that you’ve dug yourself in, you can’t very well look like a pussy and dig yourself out again. Outside of that, you’re not really sure you want to, since you think that a popular war could boost your nation’s faltering economy. Thing is, it isn’t a popular war… at least not until the yellow ribbons and heartfelt country songs are broken out. So I’m a pessimist. I assume that this is going to be a big disaster that’s going to throw us into another cold war. Except we’re definitely going to have trouble convincing ourselves that we’re the good guys on this. Especially when we lose. Oh yes, we will lose. You see, we’ll slam in there, we’ll topple Saddam Hussein, and we’ll celebrate. But we’ll lose. First, Hussein decided to let inspectors back in. Why? Because we’ve been deliberating for months, declaring our intent to invade Iraq. So by now, anything bad has been hidden in a very very good place. So undoubtedly, when we get there, we aren’t going to find the smoking gun we were looking for, and appear to be bigger fools than we do now. This is the same war tactic that we used in Afghanistan, declaring our intent for months, and giving anyone important more than enough time to escape. Good work boys. The other thing is that we already look like holy warriors. Invading another Mideast country is exactly what we need to fix their opinion of us. Yessir, that should calm the radicals down. You see, I more than understand the rationale behind war, whether for PR, military and strategic necessity, revenge, familial honor, or whatever. But this, this is some bad warmaking, and it shouldn’t have gotten so bad that some ignorant college student is able to understand that.

I spent my summer working south of the border, and by border I mean equator, and by equator I mean that which divides the Northern and Southern hemispheres of New Jersey. Why such a distinction between North and South, you ask? Initially, my endeavor was in regards to philosophy, what I ended up with however was more of an anthropological study than anything. Travel one hour south and you too will be convinced. South Jerseans are indeed a true breed of their own. They have their own distinct regional mannerisms, facial expressions, idioms and unique lexis which is what fascinated me most. (I draw a distinction between idioms as an expression or alternate meaning, excessive usage of a particular word; lexis on the other hand as comprised of what I consider to be their own fabricated vocabulary terms.)

Why Being an Avid Student of Pornography Makes Me a Better Man By Doug Veracruz At first glance, and according to popular opinion, a guy that watches a lot of porno is doomed to never being able to pleasure a real woman. Part of this comes from the running myth that porno junkies are strictly lonely freaks with no outward avenue for their sexual urges. While this is partially true, as I’ve met a number of lonely Jenna Jameson nuts in my time, socially capable porno junkies are among us. If you yourself are not (ma’am), then I’d suggest that you look up from the paper for a moment. Look in any direction. See that guy over there? He’s a porno junkie, and so is the guy next to him. Back to my point. The other popular problem with watching too much porn is that it has the remarkable tendency to make men try things that they would ordinarily know better than to attempt. Any man who’s made the fatal error of venturing toward the woman’s rear orifice knows this first hand, assuming that he has any hands left. This also goes for (save a lucky few) multiple partners, extra rough sex, and cumming on the woman’s face. [A short aside though, everyone should try the last thing at least twice. The first time is just to see the look on her face, and providing you live for the second, to let her know you mean business.] Another thing you shouldn’t try are using things you find laying around, like vegetables and candles. Bad idea, man. Bad bad idea. Having said that, I can safely say that pornography should be offered as a class here. Not some crappy woman’s studies class, but a critical analysis of how the experts do it. For one, it gives you an appreciation for why you should never treat a woman badly. I can guarantee every one of Houston’s exes are feeling pretty bad for all the times they put her down. I bet the last guy that left her never expected her to get over him by getting extensive plastic surgery and fucking 500 men. Damn…. I mean damn that’s rough. Oh, and porno also gives you an exhaustive knowledge of female anatomy… I’ve seen X-rays that aren’t as detailed as the shit you see in porno. Most of all, porno shows you women doing women. Awesome! This shows you what a women really likes as opposed to the rough manhandling from male pornstars.

Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7

No Porn... Opinions! Page After Page Of

Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12

Cover by: Ryan Beckman

Prime Teriyake Pork! @ What’s Shaking

THE

MEDIUM

CONTENTS

fnord

One word I noticed excessive use of was the term ‘brother’ usually in the form of a salutation. This term is generally reserved for the boys’ club, and anyone and everyone is a ‘brother’, did I forget to mention that all those who employ this term are so incredibly white that it just became…funny; however, this isn’t very interesting. What is interesting is the deep-seated hostility within the inner social construct of the southerners and those who reside north of them. This hatred spreads like a plague and those who come in contact with anyone infected is at great risk of contracting what has been dubbed as Geibersyndrome, whose symptoms occur together to characterize a particular blood abnormality caused by the Geiber- Strain, which can easily transmitted through all bodily fluids, and touching. So what is a Benny you ask? I asked my good friend Keith the other day, and he informed me that it’s a common phrase in the southern area. The word “Benny” itself can be traced back to two possible sources, either as an acronym for Bayonne, Elizabeth, Newark and New York; and others purport its genesis from when rich people with $100 bills came south to the beach, I then informed Keith that Benjamin Franklin is on the $100 bill, and it all made came together for him then. I also asked Keith’s live-in (and platonic) roommate William who delved further into the subject. “Benny’s are people that are just clueless about how to be when you are at the “beach” not the shore!” William stated, “Benny’s are people that bring a truck load of stuff to the beach instead of a towel. Benny’s wear sneakers and socks in the sand. They’re the ones who lay out in shitty beach weather because they picked the wrong day to trek down to the beach. They’re the ones who walk around with grease in their hair that melts down their faces as they lay out!” In the heat of the moment Keith interrupted shouting “Yeah brother! They’re the ones with like fifty styling products! They’re the ones that like pump dance music up in their car in the middle of the day! Drench themselves in cologne! They’re the ones that like yell obscenities out the car window to unsuspecting girls! A Benny is the one who wears like a tight-ass wife-beater to the beach with chest hairs meticulously sticking out their silk-rayon blended shirt! And that Jes, is what a F’n benny is!” The heat and fervor of this issue is made manifest by the few words these men have uttered. This Benny hating disease needs to be addressed as a real problem, and immediately eradicated, for its net negative social and physical effects are overwhelming. If you fear that you have an unnecessary hatred for anyone who lives in the northern areas of the tri-state area please do a self-analysis of the Geibersyndrome. Symptoms include excessive sweat, nausea, pregnancy, uncontrolled urge to stick your finger up someone’s butt, humping the steering wheel for no apparent reason while driving, a general feeling of ‘funkiness’, and gas. There is no cure yet, but there is always hope. My body has recently begun to express several of the listed symptoms, and all I did was use Keith’s toothbrush, the baby shower will be during the next Medium Meeting in the LSC at 9:00pm, gift required. (This nonsensical piece is dedicated to [of course] Keith, Wil, Z-Funk, Ricki and all my other south jersey peops, keep bangin’.)

Bobby McGee, bartender supreme, once quoth: “On my deathbed I will achieve total consciousness...that’s nice...at least I got that going for me.” Fucking A, Mr. McGee, Fucking A. Editor-in-Chief Managing Editor Business Manager Opinions Editor News Editor GMG Editor Arts Editor Faculty Advisor

Martin Babitz Mike Ryan Mike Stanley Ben Schachtman Carol Hu Ryan Beckman Aija McKenzie Jeff Buechner

Personals Editors Photography Editor What’s Shakin’ Editor Online Editor Advertising Manager Staff Artist Senior Editor

Harold Hebitch Ginormous Ginny Liz Finelli Amy Groark Mike Wyzard Mike Stanely Kinky McLibit Amy Groark

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 Sunday at 12:00 pm. 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 or emailed to prometus@hotmail.com. This used to by my playground. This used to be my childhood dream.


Wednesday, September 25th, 2002

“No monkey crabs - no dice, that was the deal, sorry toots.”

Explicit Cracker

TM

“Saying the things to incredibly, spreadably, inedibly ignorant for the average man to say.” THIS WEEK’S INSTALLMENT: NEW FRIENDS, OLD ENEMIES

OPINIONS BONANZA! BONANZA! BONANZA!

“ I believe in fred strife, h e is my hero I wasa boy , when scout, he to ok me unde wing, and ta r his ug Bless that m ht me how to lick nuts . God an!”

abies, but b k c la b n a th s taste better ie b a b e it h s. Damn.” “W ie b a b n ia s A as not as good “Megan R omeo is no t a Rutger ever, one b s Student. adass moth She is, how erfucker. S persons I k he is one o now. Way fthe cooles cooler than with. So fu t that guy I cking muc share a roo h cooler.” m

As Ahkmad glared suspiciously at my sandwich, I asked him if he wanted to come try and touch boobs with us. Ahkmad informed me that that would be almost as forbidden as consuming alcohol. Surprisingly, he told me that he had plenty of friends who drank and screwed around, but that he wanted no part of it. In similar fashion he turned down offers to go masturbate on police cars by 10th and South station. When I asked him if it was because he feared the racist police or if masturbation was also forbidden. He looked at me sheepishly. I couldn’t believe it. Ahkmad nodded solemnly. I offered him a consolatory bite of my pork sandwich, which he refused vehemently with a cold glare. Then a grin came over his face, and he leaned forward. His breath hot and strong with abstinence, reverence and couscous, he whispered in me ear with a giggle. “Sometimes, Ahkmad sneaks a quick tickle in the morning.” After I climbed back into my booth and regained my composure I told Ahkmad that I was almost positive that even Mohammad has snuck a quick tickle. “What does a man with seventy wives need with tickles?” I had to admit, I didn’t know. With that, I offered Ahkmad a final bite of my sandwich, which he again swore at quietly and refused. I got up to leave. “I can play video games though, I like them. I like Turok.” “I like Turok too Ahkmad,” I said with a smile and I shook his hand. As I left Ahkmad staring at the swineful grease stain on his hand I felt confident that our two cultures weren’t so far apart. After all, even if the young man had sworn off bacon, boobs and booze, he was still feels that compulsive urge to hump to bed with ol’ morning wood when he wakes up. So there is hope after all. My Marxist companion and I got into his car and proceeded to drive drunkenly up the one way street headlong into a cop car. We apologetically backed into an alley and prayed he didn’t arrest us. On the way home, we slowed to check out a woman who was jogging down the street. It turned out she had been mugged, her mouth was bloody and her makeup had run all the way down her cheek. Some middle-aged white guy rode by on a bike, punched her in the face, and stole her bag. We dropped her off at the police station and got the fuck out of Philadelphia. Somehow, vomiting out the passenger side window as we crossed the Walt Whitman Bridge, I understood why Ahkmad would want no part of it...

DDear Mr. Editor, Isreal sucks my nuts. Why the hell are they on the front cover every goddamn day? Fuck them. Fuck Isreal. I’m from India and fucking car bombs are going off every fucking day and these fucking benchoads at the Targum just sit around and pick their assholes and think that Mattia is funny and run front page stories about a country the size of a fucking gonad. What. The. Fuck. I have nothing against Isreal. Or Jews. But they can all swing from my big brown salty nuts, right the fuck from my nuts. Start fucking swinging you bastards! FUCK YOU! George Pailaal, Rutgers Junior, Busch (I (I think maybe you and Isreal should rent a room on top of the Ale’n’Wich - Ed.)

“In my opinion, fuckers fuck up the curve.”

This weekend I traveled back to my high school haunt of South Jersey. As you well know, there are few places a man can feel more comfortable with his all consuming Camaro-lust then in that delicious pocket of freedom that is SoJo. You know the feeling you get when the condom rolls up, and even though most of the action is under raps you sneak in a little skin on skin? Well, that’s what being in New Jersey, but south of the Mason-Dixon line is like. Life is all about pleasure and pain, and South Jersey is the place for both. The first thing I did when I got home, was to cross the border into Philadelphia, because when I say I love South Jersey, I mean I love that its there for me to come home drunk to after I go to South Street and drink all night. Philadelphia is the undescended testicle, or clitoris if you’ll have that, of the East Coast. It lacks the manpower of New York, the intelligence of Boston, the Aquariums of Baltimore and the Jermain Dupri of Atlanta, but it was once our nation’s capitol. This weekend, Prince Albert escaped his can and came to bury the hatchet that’s been up his ass since 1812, but I wasn’t there for the international diplomacy, I was there to get drunk. After a few drinks, my companion and I, who had been debating Marxist philosophy and trying to touch boobs, realized how hungry we were. So we stumbled out of the bar that forgot to card us, stepped around the dirty old lady selling the progressive art brochures and waltzed into Subway. My Marxist companion ordered a six inch Turkey sub with Pepsi. The olive-skinned young man behind the counter replied blankly: “Would you like the Pepsi on the sandwich, or on the side?” There was no trace of enjoyment on his face when he said this, nor any sense of understanding when he told us that the honey-wheat roll was five dollars extra. Sensing that the young man was either the avatar of deadpan or mentally retarded I asked him if he wanted to come have a drink. He informed me that he was underage. I offered, again, to buy him a drink. He then informed that his mother would castrate him if he drank. Eventually he told us he was a devout Muslim. I ordered the teriyake pork club and a Pepsi, on the side, and asked him to come sit down with us.

OPINIONS

talk at my h s a r t ic b o e homoph e waste of life. It m o s d e ll e who y omplet c a YC, buy is N d o n IThat guy t ie e r lf iv r ir her g r and d friend and ant to get in my ca back with g i w s i h w low wo makes me ial, and b o drop him, then t c e p s t h g i . nt yn a saturda P - two in the splee n casket. Fuck him C ope some .40 A he can’t have an e so in the fac

Dear Explicit Cracker, I think that the Donald Rumsfield, and in general the Department of Defense, have an incredibly myopic vision of Middle Eastern policy. It wouldn’t take a great deal of historical knowledge to understand Bahgdad’s place in international relations. For centuries, it has stood alongside London and Paris as a center of foward thinking academics, and we’ve been bombing it for ten years. There are many who will forgive the morbidly short-sighted hawks in Congress and continue to support the United States from the middle east, but doing so grows more difficult every day. Saddam Hussein is a violent reactionary, and a land based invasion of Iraq will force him to make good on his threats to attack the Kurdish minorites living in the Iraqi highlands. Blame for their suffering can be placed on Saddam, but the responsibility will belong to the United States. I cannot in any meaningful way defend the actions of the Hussien government, nor can I say that his presence is a benefit to the Islamic community. However, I also cannot advocate a land war in Iraq. The innocent will suffer. The tyrant will simply become a martyr. We cannot allow a power hungry man with the maturity of a twelve year old to strong arm our nation into a modern day Vietnam. Instead, I propose eating babies. Regards, Karl ‘Hungus’ Marx

(So close to being a thoughtful opinion, and yet, the irresitable lust for baby flesh is too strong for even the great Karl Marx. Its such a sad thing)


News News

“my life as a hot dog”

Wednesday, September 25, 2002 radiation

Cell Phone Usage = Cancer by carol hu NEWS EDITOR

Today the w o r l d relies on cellular phones. Time to pay back -with your health.

Studies have proven that an abundance of cell phone usage could potentially cause cancer. So next time you just want to “check up” on your boyfriend of girlfriend for the 20th time of the day, think again and figure out if you want to live or die.

radiation

radiation

radiation w w w . t h e m e d i u m . n e t

When your spunk tastes like funk by girl on her knees STAFF WRITER

Any woman, man or child who’s ever sucked a cock, be it willingly or unwillingly, knows that manjuice comes in more than one flavor. If you’ve never sucked a sausage yourself and have never had a brutally honest lover this may be hard to swallow. Most men will spend the majority of their lives believing that the whipped topping that they so generously feed their bed buddies is creamy, mostly salty but slightly sweet to taste and generally easy on the taste buds. Sorry to burst your bubble guys but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Cum can taste good… No really it can! But often times getting’ the sweet creamy stuff is either a chance occurrence or comes out of a man well in tune with his body and its excretions. Side Note: Those adds you see in the personals section where a chick says that she loves the taste of cum, yeah well she’s just had her virgin throat fucked by a sweet juiced dick. Reality will of course rapidly set in when her list of lovers goes from 1 to 2 (it really doesn’t take much). Unless of course the chick falls into a state of denial (which occasionally does happen) and decides to spend the rest of her years fruitlessly searching for that rare but delish, yummy-inmy-tummy cum. Eventually the poor thing (and I do pitty her so will lose hope in life, love and happiness, not to mention be left with more than a bad taste in her mouth. But I digress; I’m here to teach all the men out there how to jazz up your jizm. Spunk comes in basically three flavors: Sweet—so very rare that if your manmustard ever attains and keeps this status you are guaranteed endless hours and perhaps even constant access to head. Imagine being able to have your wong waxed any and every time you think of it regardless of where you are (school church, dinner with the grandparents…doesn’t matter) it tastes THAT good. Salty—normal, what most women expect, in other words, we can tolerate going down on you. Sour—Eeiiiew, yeah this is where most all men end up at some point or another. Imagine chewing on an aspirin tablet (non-coated) and having no water to wash it down with. This is what it tastes like, only worse. Not to mention it leaves a gross chalky-feeling slime on your teeth. Putting The Pizzazz Back in Your Protein Shake ‘cause even the sweet stuff spoils eventually Step1: Recognize that you have a problem. If you don’t adhere to a strict diet of fruits, grains and veggies, if you’re subject to stress, if you like sex…in other words, if you’re a male, you have or will at some point in your life have a problem. Step 2: Evaluate the severity of your problem. This can be achieved by either carefully observing your partner’s reaction while s/he is receiving your special delivery or by sampling your own spooge. My guess is that most of you are gunna opt for door #1. As such you may judge the cream in your canoli as follows: If your lover takes your cream rinse and: a) Asks for a glass of water or a mint. Those seamonkeys aint exactly caviar but they are edible. In such cases you don’t really need to make any modifications, but it would make your lover happier and most likely double the amount of head you get if you do. b) Leaves to brush her teeth. You’ve got seriously sour spooge. Your cum is leaving an icky film on her teeth, so unbearable that s/he needs to brush, rinse and floss in order to lose that unwholesome, I just sucked something that secretes urine feeling. Do something, now or risk having your number of head stroking sessions halved. c) Makes a face like s/he just ate a dung beetle. Basically your cum not only tastes like shit, it tastes like spoiled shit. Take drastic measures immediately. If word gets out, (and of course with female networking it will) you may never get your man meat man handled again. Makin’it taste good: Contrary to popular opinion, its not vegetables that make your cum yummy (oops), its fruitjuice. So drink and eat as much fruit as you can get your hands on. Also stress can really take a toll on the taste of your love juices. So remember, always stay calm, eat fruit and just be happy, ‘cause the tastier your cum, the better the head you’ll get.

Come join the crazies at livingston student center 9 pm, room 113

send news articles to carolhu@eden.rutgers.edu


Wednesday, September 25, 2002

News News

“math is infinite, so it is god.”

Rumsfeld: New Phase in War on Terror by eric j. baker STAFF WRITER

Dean of Admissions Demands “Bring Out the Sluts!” by collin marchiando STAFF WRITER

The annual meeting of the admissions board was cut short this year as the dean of admissions, himself demanded that his colleagues “Bring out the Sluts!” The comment was allegedly made as the board was discussing the University’s current acceptance policy for lewd women. The policy has come under fire by many in the academic community for being too lax. The board was set to start their discussion on amending the policy when the dean made his sudden and unexpected outburst. Most people are interpreting the statement as a need for more sluts at Rutgers. “He feels we don’t have enough sluts, hoes or come guzzlers on campus under the current policy and is very opposed to toughening it as some are recommending. I stand firmly with the dean in his request that we get more loose pussy around here,” Professor Tom Coness, a member of the board, stated at a press conference earlier today. Although, the dean has encountered with strong opposition led by Professor Christopher Groski, another member of the admissions committee. “This immature attempt at masculine affirmation is disgusting and disturbing. The phrase ‘Bring out the sluts’ has no place in modern society, let alone a meeting of professional adults. Rutgers is the laughing stock of the New Jersey learning community due to its slut allowing policy and any further relaxing of these rules will only hurt us in the long run. I can only hope the dean will apologize for his comment so we can get back to a mature discussion of our policies,” Groski told reporters. The dean could not be reached for comment but his lawyer issued a statement saying “[Groski] and his pals are pussies. Sluts fucking rule! Bring out those easy pieces of ass!” The dean has not stirred this much controversy since his decision last year to allow the Golf-Ball-Through-Garden-Hose test in place of SATS. send news articles to carolhu@eden

THE PENTAGON-- At a Pentagon press conference last night, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld warned of a possible new terror threat to the United States. “No doubt that by now everyone has seen the Al Qaeda training video discovered in Afghanistan last fall, depicting black-robed terror soldiers engaging in mock attacks,” Rumsfeld said. “Intelligence teams examining the tapes have determined a glaring weakness in America’s homeland security. We are vulnerable to invasion due to flaws in our last line of coastal defense system: Monkey Bars.” In the undated footage, presumably filmed in the Afghan desert, Al Qaeda members are seen in a series of attack modes, most notably the traversing of Monkey Bar obstacles, which is done with apparent ease. Last night’s press conference was the Bush administration’s first public comment on the perceived threat. “In all honesty,” the defense secretary explained, “the condition of our coastal monkey bar defenses are shoddy at best. Whole stretches of beach front in New Jersey and South Carolina are entirely without Monkey Bars at all, and even where they exist, many are poorly maintained.” Most historians and military analysts agree that the monkey bar barriers, once thought to be nearly impenetrable in the first half of the twentieth century, fell into dispair.

during the cold war, when the danger of a nuclear exchange with the Soviet Union rendered the imposing metal structures irrelevant. When asked what the government proposed to do about the security threat, Rumsfeld explained, “The President is currently drafting a spending proposal that would immediately begin the construction of newer, taller monkey bars along any coastal zone that is deemed vulnerable to amphibious invasion.” Not everyone agrees that President Bush’s proposal is the answer. “A typical example of government overspending when a simpler solution is so obvious,” said John O’Connor, president of the North American Monkey Bar Legislation Association, or NAMBLA (formerly the National Man-Boy Love Association). “A much cheaper and faster method would be to remove every other ring to make the bars harder to reach, and then greasing the remaining bars to make them slippery. Those Al Qaeda bastards will fall to the ground like crap out of a goose.” When asked about NAMBLA’s earlier suggestion to distract the would-be invaders with naked nine-year-old boys, O’ Conner only offered a terse “No comment.”

The truth revealed: Skinny boys have big cocks by a. rukkers stoodent STAFF WRITER

The assumption that black men have enormous wangs is a common stereotype that lacks any sort of falsity and should be kept in mind at all times. On the otherhand, asian men lack that certain quality and some, but how can you tell if a white man is well endowed or not? One well-known way is by the size of their hands or feet. Unfortunately this way does not reveal the secrets of what is hidden below the belt. Good news! [Personal]

studies show that a majority of men with thin body frames are indeed very well hung. Do not think that it is simply an illusion that a skinny guy appears to have a large cock due to the size proportions. Believe me, I’ve tested this theory many times and have personally measured, it is no illusion. Remember this if you don’t want to be stuck wondering how big or small some guy’s penis is.


GMG

“If called upon, panties I will wear.”

I LOVE BIN LADEN By: The Writer’s Block

Wednesday, September 25th, 2002

Fun on Trains! A Guide by Zachary Terranova

As someone with very little drive to work my You know, ever ass off to pay for a car (yes that was a pun, feel since 9/11, free to hurt me), I end up taking the train very Middle-Easterners frequently from New Brunswick to New York have gotten a bad or Trenton. At first I thought this was an exerrap. And this sucks cise in frustration. After all, trains in the United because a lot of my States (unlike those in Europe and Japan) are Middle-Eastern slower than dirt…and Superman for that matfriends get perseter. I bet one of those Japanese Bullet trains cuted but shouldn’t It’s no Honda, but these guys sure know how to drive could rape Superman in a race, but not our in style. because they are crappy American locomotives! Anyway, the the nicest guys I know. Take my friend Yasser Bin Laden for example, people train conductors are nothing like they are on TV. treat him like garbage because of his name and nationality, but he doesn’t get You can have fun on a train, They don’t have shiny uniforms and snazzy caps. aggressive about it. Sure he gets angry, but instead of getting into fights he takes but it’s more fun to get No, instead they have mustard stained tank tops out his anger by taking flying lessons, how cool is that! Yasser has no wish of naked and run towards a and mullets. I have trouble boarding any vebecoming a top-notch pilot; he told me, flying just seems like a useful skill to have moving train... the best part hicle captained by a mullet-infested drunk. later in life. It should be noted that while he was telling me this he was rubbing his is when you die. hands together and afterwards he started laughing like crazy, man, Yasser sure Then I realized; trains are fun! Just think of all the fun stuff you can do! When the loves flying! And the same goes for my other Middle-Eastern friends, like Jikad ticket-collecting man comes around to sell you a ticket and inevitably asks “Round Al Akbar. Jikad says that everything that has happened has sucked and that she trip?” You can respond, while spinning the chamber of a revolver, “Where I’m gets harassed a lot. But she doesn’t get angry, no sir, she just buries herself in going, people don’t come back.” I tried this myself, and had a great time! Imagchemical studies. ine how surprised the man was by my answer! And imagine how downright She just loves mixing chemicals together and creating new chemicals. But someshocked he was a few seconds later when I shot him through the lungs! Oh, how times I think she gets in a little over herself, like one time she came busting out of I laughed! The man I shot seemed to find humor in the situation too. At least, her basement door screaming, "I can make Anthrax, I can make Anthrax." So I that’s how I interpreted the splurbling sound he made as blood coated his trasaid, “Oh Jikad, don’t be silly. How can you make a body part of an insect?” chea and sprayed from the decidedly large hole in his body cavity. She said that I was mistaken and that the correct word I was looking for was thorax so I told her “I think I know my English, Jikad. I mean I was born in this Unfortunately, the other passengers didn’t find my little bit of role-play very funny. country and you just came here like 10 months ago in a van across Canada, I It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that they weren’t laughing because they think I know what I’m talking about.” But let me tell you those Middle-Easternfelt left out! I decided to include them in my bit of fun by suddenly reaching ers sure love chemistry. Like one time I was over at my friend Osama Hussein’s behind my back and pulling out a medieval broad sword…which I then used to house and like all his uncles (boy does he have a lot of uncles, 15!!!) were doing remove their appendages! My new friends seemed to really be getting into my chemical stuff. They were making like their own TNTs and stuff. So I said, little game. Their screams were so loud that the mulleted conductor stopped the “Hey, don’t forget to invite me over when you guys decide to set these bad boys train and came back to see what all the fuss was about. I decided to do him a off on the 4th of July!” They all laughed at me and told me that it was a great favor by giving him a more modern haircut. It turns out that a broad sword isn’t idea. Sadly, some of Hussein’s uncles don’t like America, like his one crazy the best tool for cutting tiny follicles. After a slight miscalculation of distance, the uncle Saddam Ja Singh; I call him Ja-Rule cause he likes to rap. Ja Singh told conductor’s head rolled down onto the floor, coating the train in a fine red lubrime, “I don’t hate Americans as much as the Germans hated Jews, I just don’t cant. like anyone who oppresses my ideas on how we should treat these damn Kuwaites. I would never put Americans in a camp like the Germans did to the The police say that my train experiment was so successful that I won’t need to Jews, even though those Germans did have ride the train anymore! From now on I’ll be walking everywhere I go…from my a point.” He also told me that Americans cell to the cafeteria…and back again! I wonder if my cellmate/anal sex partner are stupid cause we don’t know who our likes to have fun with weapons? enemies are. So I told him I do know, anyone that doesn’t wear the red, white Send your features junk to Cuteboyass@hotmail.com or and blue. So they just laughed at me some RyanBeck@eden.rutgers.edu more and pointed to an awesome poster of the twin towers blowing up in red, white “How Family Porn Helped Create A Religion” and blue. Man, were they patriotic, I didn’t By: Nicolas Mugavero question their way of expression, in fact, The reason everyone goes to hell is because God is an ignoramus infant. I don’t the only question I asked was if they had After growing up with women care much for homosexuals who use the rainbow to represent men having anal used Adobe Photoshop. So the point I’m who look like this, it’s no intercourse with other men. I suppose I’m envious of God for making everyone surprise that those Zany trying to make is that, is long as the Middlekill and murder in his name. He also made wiping my ass a sin or a mental eastern guys wear our colors, let them be! Middle-Eastern men are pissed. disorder called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. This is significant if you are

Come to the Medium meeting tonight in the Livingston Student Center in room 113. It starts at 9:30 so be there.... I promise you will see some tit.*

This promise only holds true if you are a girl and it is your own boobs that you will see...this part probably should have been small... well fuck you.

looking at your own asshole in the mirror for fun. I am bent over, pants around my ankles, ass to the mirror and spreading to make sure it is clean. I must do this every one-half hour because I am very clean and crazy. My friend Jaeson is crazy because he sits in front of the television and says, “Come here little girl, would you like some ass cream”? He repeats this every one and one-half minute because he is very concerned with rectal itching. There is something curiously refreshing about hating God. It is like chewing on mint leaves that grow in pieces of perpendicular crap, you know? I am severely pondering a dainty cat talking to a happy dog and asking him for blanched ass cream, but he is a rather dainty cat so he says, “Pardon me, but do you have any ass cream”? The dog looks sad and wanders down to the river thinking he has lost his dignity. He wishes that he had many foreign friends so that he could watch them crap and brush their teeth because they are different and he wishes to record these differences for the future generations of mankind. The police find the dog and bring him home where they discover two cats (one dainty) applying copious amounts of ass cream to my friend Jaeson. There are many reasons why he allows the cats to put ass cream on him. One reason is because he is fond of angelic paintings. He tells them he is responsible for the angels and they tell him to prove it. He agrees and leads them to the local video store and politely asks the cashier, “Can you kindly direct me to the family porn”? The cashier is really God and he too compulsively wipes his ass and is in the process of so doing when the question is posed. Everyone sees his divine ass and they create religions which spawn priests known as Bosinawarewa (literally, Anus Eaters). Everyone is so happy because they don’t have to be Christians or Jews or Muslims anymore, they can finally be themselves.


Wednesday, September 25th, 2002

I’m Straight! By Harry Johnson Now, I’m a straight guy. I talk straight and I fuck straight. But since I’ve arrived at college I’ve been wondering about how many others out there still do things like that. There are no fewer than 16 homosexuals on my floor! Harry Johnson has 16! Really, there are only been a proud straight 20-something guys, and at male since his dad’s least sixteen like having sex with men. I mean, they meaty want juiced inside of his mother looked like pretty straight guys to me at first, but man to create him. was I wrong! The first encounter I had with one of those horny little deviants was when I was carrying a 25inch TV set into my room and this guy with giant, rippling muscles says “Can I help you with that?” I really did need the help, but I knew right away that he was one of them. His shirt was off and sweat was cascading down his perfect, massive pectoral muscles. He was trying to turn me on! Well, it didn’t work, because I for one am straight! The next experience was later that night in the shower. There I was, showering like a regular straight man, when this guy walks in and takes off his towel, revealing a sexy little ass and the biggest cock I have ever seen. Great, now this guy was also trying to turn me on! I know he wanted me to think Hey! What I hot guy! I want to have anal sex with him right now in the shower! No such luck buddy, because I am straight! It has only gotten worse since then. I’ve seen men walking around in shorts! Shorts, for God’s sake! One look at that tiny bit of thigh and I could tell they wanted me to remove their pants and have hot gay sex with them right there in the hall. When are these damn pillow biters going to get the message that I don’t enjoy having my cock slathered on by a bunch of horny men with hot mouths that put vaginas to shame? Must I suffer their endless flirtations? Must I live with their desires to have me ram them up the Jeep Liberty and erotically caress their hard, wet bodies…probably not in that order…but I wouldn’t know, because I am straight!

Tiny Poetry Corner My Love by Marcusupra squirrels are the best, nothing keeps them from their nuts, my dicks in the way.

Church BBQ by Cardinal Pieretti When a church needs to be built. A wingless angel goes to the casino. The angel wins and so the church has money. The angel may buy a car to get home. It has no wings. Angels have no ribcage. Humans were formed when Satan’s wings folded in on themselves, turned hard and crept below the skin. Thus the ribcage was formed, to protect the heart alone. It needs protection.

“I’m a murdidlyurdler.”

FEATURES

Do you think you’re good enough to jerk me off? Do you think you’re good enough to dance like a monkey drunk on his own power and urine? Do you think you’re good enough to write for Features? Well it’s certainly the easiest of the three so send your poems, short writings, ramblings, altered comics, personally made comics, nude photos and anything else you don’t want to CuteBoyAss@hotmail.com or RyanBeck@eden.rutgers.edu How to Tell If Your Child Is a Robot by Ion Layered How many times have you read this headline in the papers: "Evil Robot Devours Parents"? How many times has the evening news reported whole families slaughtered by their robot children, whose soulless and mechanical lust for blood can never be satiated? Lord knows, if you're like me, you can't go a day of hearing another tragic story of robots turned evil.

Comic Sex-shun Hello good sir, how much for one of your Penguin bitches?

Well, folks, robots are among us, and they're here to stay -- unless we do something about it. Do you think Einstein would have invented atoms if he just sat around and let his robot children eat him? Do you think Napoleon would have won the battle of Waterloo if he had just sat around while evil robots ran rampant on the battlefield? I don't think so! But, as Julius Caesar said, you need to know your enemy to defeat your enemy! Studies show that only 43% of babies born in 2001 were Robots -- a 2% increase from 2002! Still, deaths Puss ‘n Boobs from evil robots have almost doubled in the past five years -- and that's something we can prevent! Armed Back in my day giving with a little knowledge, identifying if YOUR baby is an abortion wasn’t a robot might save your life. Just cut out this convenearly as fun! nient Robot Baby Checklist and carry it around with you so you can be ready at all times! ROBOT BABY CHECKLIST 1. All robot babies are given a switch by which to test its robot crying mechanism. By pressing this switch, you can instantly make the robot baby cry fake robot tears. To locate the switch, simply run your index finger over the top of the baby's head. When you locate a soft spot, press as hard as you can. If your baby begins to cry, it is a robot and should be destroyed. 2. Everybody knows robots hate water. Submerge your baby underwater for two to three minutes. If it The Family Circass ceases to function, you can be sure it was a robot! 3. Robot skin is made of a silicon-cesium compound, which corrodes in hydrochloric acid. Buy some HCl solution at Walmart (next to the firearms section) and soak your baby in the acid. If it breaks, it was a robot. 4. Robot babies never, ever speak -- they only cry. Robot babies may be able to memorize two or three words, but do not be fooled!

“No more road-head Daddy... you got it in my eye again.”


Arts

“Drunk Aija = Bad Aija”

Wednesday, September 25, 2002

Fat Jenny by Aija McKenzie, Arts Editor

We’ve all seen these girls around campus. You know, the girl with the low-rise jeans on and her back fat spilling over the sides fron underneath her thong. Yep, that’s Fat Jenny. Not every fat girl is Fat Jenny, in fact most big girls (like myself and a select few friends) are aware that they are fat and look good, instead of wearing things that make them look like a pack of “busted biscuits.” But Fat Jenny has a problem. Maybe she’s one of those fat sluts mentioned last week. Or maybe she was thin before she got to college, then decided to exist solely on Hostess cakes. Whatever her fuckin deal is, she needs help. Not sure if your friend is Fat Jenny? Let’s see:

Please your Arts Editor! Submit to me at shorty_fat_fat@yahoo.com and some see me at the Medium Meeting, Wednesday at 9:30, at the LSC 113

1. She goes into Express with you and tries to “make” shirts fit. 2. She doesn’t own any pants that aren’t at least 50% spandex. 3. She asks to borrow some of your clothes even though you two are about 8 sizes apart. 4. Her bra’s too small, i.e. she has that “double boobed” look where her boobs are spilling out. 5. She eats Weight Watchers frozen dinners, but has a Yaffa block full of snack cakes in her room.

Ian’s Haiku Parallelogram

I’m sure you get the jist. And to any Fat Jennys out there, I’m only sayin this cause I care. You give fat girls a bad name, with your belly hanging out of your baby-tee. I swear, if you get clothes in your actual size, you’ll look alot better. It won’t hurt you to go to the fat girl store, the clothes there are nice. Check out torrid, they have punk and goth clothes for fat girls. If your real size bothers you, just cut the tag. Anything. Just make a change. If your friends let you walk out of the house in a with your backless shirt strings cutting into your back fat, they’re not your real friends. And that’s foreally real on some foreal shit.

GIRLS WANT TO SEE?

IS THIS WHAT

RUGBi had a fight With the women’s rugby team I don’t know who won Fat Fat Fat Fat Fat Skinny Skinny Skinny Skin A winner is Fat a small fact about the infamous rutgers sluts Boogie in your butt

A Problem You Need The Negro Problem: Welcome Black by Nick Slomsky, Medium Music Critic For those who dislike listening to popular music (as opposed to pop music), The Negro Problem is an excellent choice. While they have received a good deal of critical praise, their name forbids them from ever becoming popular enough to hear all over the radio. And yes, the bandleader is black. The gentleman in question is Stew, whose two recent solo albums (Guest Host and The Naked Dutch Painter) have established him as one of the great American songwriters working today. The Negro Problem is the Los Angeles-based songwriter’s primary output for less personal pop music. “Welcome Black” is the group’s first album in three years and continues their penchant for 60s-sounding pop (horns and keyboards augmenting the combo) with smart lyrics. From the sarcastic take on touring life of “Is This the Single?” to the look inside the mind of a delusional homeless man in “I’m Sebastian Cabot,” Stew takes you into the minds of characters real and imagined. The highlight is “In Time All Time,” a tribute to the genius of the legendary jazz composer Thelonious Monk. The album’s packed full of references such as that and some even more obscure, which would suggest that this review belongs in The Review. Fortunately for the rest of us, the lyrics are set to catchy melody after catchy melody, often filled out with perfect harmonies that remind many of The Beach Boys. And the band’s name will ensure that they don’t end up on soundtracks for bad movies or in dental offices for ages to come. For more info: www.negroproblem.com


Wednesday, September 25, 2002

To the girl with the sexy, huge, lovely breasts, dark brown curly hair, and the gray bookbag that lives in Jameson A, I was riding the bus back to cook one day and I couldn’t help but notice you on the bus. Your tits, they’re just so HUGE. I followed you to the door but I was too scared to talk to you. But I don’t really wanna talk, I just wanna rub my face in your ENORMOUS TITS, and titty fuck you ALL NIGHT LONG, then I’ll cum alllll over your face and get it in your eye, and you’ll like it. (The really funny part is that you’ll never be able to do anything like this to a girl, it’ll be most likely be your roommate while he’s asleep) to all those stupid fuckin sluts on every RU bus, do you really think anyone on the bus wants to hear your entire fucking cell phone conversation about how many times you cheated on your boyfriend? (It’s just an indication of what to expect if you’re with a girl who goes to school here. I suggest dating a girl you can trust and isn’t a WHORE like the girls here) The life of a 5-year old latino boy is filled with interesting things. And by interesting things I mean my cock. They service affluent tourists with the greatest of ease and all for pathetic 5 dollars. They need managers and this is where you the reader comes in. The position requires flexible morality and a special interest in the children of our neighboring countries. Please call my freshman statistics teacher (if you’ve had him you know) (The lives of many of the girls at Rutgers are also filled with many interesting things, many different interesting things sometimes more then one interesting thing at a time. The girls here are very “open” for new experiances)

"Hey everybody! We're gona get laid!"

William Rosenberg the founder of Dunkin Donuts died this weekend at the age of 86.

Wednesday, it will be ecouraged that all attempt to eat as much Dunkin Donuts as possible, like the above business men. To the hot post office employee, how the hell am I supposed to approach you with the Indian man and the Hispanic woman up your ass 24/7? I mean, do I slip you my number while one is licking your stamp and the other is weighing your envelope in the palm of her hand? I want you so bad, you remind me of a guy I “talked” to once. I want to talk to you, too. (See now, a very important thing about this post-office girl would be to find out if she takes deliveries in the back door) SW She-Male Wanted for copulation, but no sex. my name is jamie lee curtis. my babies need to be of a purebred breed, i.e. Russianese. So if you wanna become famous, jerk off in a cup for me.

Hey Everybody! Eating is fun, eating is serious, you eat too much you’re gona A big FUCK YOU goes out get delerious, you eat too little to the ugly, fat, pimple-faced you’re gona dissapearious! Asian mess working the door at TKE on Saturday. I’m not sure if he’s a member or not, but if he is, I don’t know why you would let an obese gook Send like that join. He probably joined to feel important, but in reality he’s one of the many fratboys who don’t get laid. FUCK YOU fatty! (As we’ve said time and time again, fat people aren’t real people so they don’t matter!)

Personals To the girl I loveYou are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I cannot wait until the day when you’re by myside and we don’t have to deal with being apart and all of the stress of college. We’ve been together for quite a while now and I’m sure the next few years will pass by just as quickly. All my love! xoxoxoxo I had a great weekend hanging out with a bear, thanks a lot and I love you. Umm, like, I, like, really, like, hate, like, when those girls, like, in my class, like, won’t like, stop using that like, so trendy word LIKE. Do you realize how insanely uneducated and ignorant you sound when your speech is laced with this parasite? Guess not. I think that we should reinstitute corporal punishment in the classroom for this atrocity. Or fines of $100 per utterance, cause I swear to God, I’m gonna have to purchase a firearm if this is to continue. HOLLA.

to my petifile of a roomateif i have to hear about one more of your little sexual escapades with that slutty 15 year old, Terra, im gonna cum all over your laptop keyboard. What the fuck kinda name is Terra anyway!?! (Now see, you have the answer to your question you just don’t know it. You’ve said your roommate is a pet “lover”and Terra is a nick name for the UMD Terrapin. Your roommate has been having relations with the “angry turtle” from Maryland. Try telling him how gay Maryland is and see how he responds. sean, seeing you on saturday melted my heart, and although i know we’ll never be together, i still firmly believe that you’ve enriched my life, always - bea I want to die, i hate everything, i want to die... DEATH dead daddy doo diddy dead butt... in the butt, you have to put IT in the butt because it’s THE.

in all of your Personals to:

stainey@witty.com

to Justin: i am sick of hearing you pound your faggot room mates sloppy asshole, i mean i can actually hear you slapping you r sagging peanut sized balls on his hemroid infested butt cheeks. and quit leaving your and dildo shaped soap in the shower i always mistake it for my own (See Justin, he really hopes you mistake his ass for your roommates ass one day soon)


Personals Personals This person’s personal, much like her gigantic blubbery fat ass, is too big to fit into any normal space. So, it was broken up. To the obviously simpleminded retard who wrote, “but there are also some big bitches on the color guard” let me start by saying FUCK YOU. You definitely fit the stereo type of a person who rubs their genitalia in peanut butter and allows their pet to lick it off. First off, if you have to define colorguard as “flag waver”, than you are of the simple minded that still has to match up the animals on your clothing tag to ensure you m a t c h . Does not the color guard wave flags? Or was that just you gals signaling the hot dog vendors to thrown you down a few dozen dogs .maybe you should read more fashion magazines...I don't know how you missed the message that your fat gut = ugly, but you need to pick up on that real soon.

Jessica, que Bonita! Held up very well considering she was the darkest, biggest girl in the house.

I’ve been working on the railroad, all the live-long day. I’ve been working on the railroad just to give my kids away. I hate the little fuckers, I’d kill em if I could... I bash their heads in with a shov e l , a stab them with some wood. It’s ok to make fun of Asians because their culture frowns upon confrontation. So you can say whatever you want about them and never have to get shit for it! Let them chinks have it! A big FUCK YOU goes out to the ugly, fat, pimple-faced Asian mess working the door at TKE on Saturday. I’m not sure if he’s a member or not, but if he is, I don’t know why you would let an obese gook like that join. He probably joined to feel important, but in reality he’s one of the many fratboys who don’t get laid. FUCK YOU fatty!

“Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” I like Sorority Life. Yeah I said it, and I’ll say it again. I really really like that show. I have no idea why. If you wanna make somethin of it, come say it to my face. You ever see a lady, maybe in her mid-30’s and you just know that her life didn’t turn out the way she thought it would? She’s on the train, late at night with a couple of other guys who both look like the biggest losers life was ever wasted on. She stares out the window and remembers when she thought she could be somebody. But you can tell she’s sucked way more dicks than she could count. She fell for the wrong guy who told her he was leaving this place and taking her with him. She believed him, and was, of course, left with a broken heart when he skipped town with her best friend. And you know this happened to her over and over again. Now her once radiant beauty is fading faster than a falling star, and she never paid enough attention in school to get a real job; she always thought she could get by on her looks and by blowing the right people. She doesn’t have much money, but the fat slob on her left with the mullet and the bald spot gives her a place to stay as long as she spreads her legs for his disgusting sex. She looks out the window and remembers her dreams and tries to figure out what happened. You ever see someone like that?

These are Sorostitutes. They are the only reason to go to Frat Parties. Honestly though, these bitches are like, what I see at every party. Honest. It’s also what you will see at a Medium MeetingWednesday night, at 9:30 Livingston Student Center room 113. Be there or get no Ho fo You!.

Wednesday, September 25, 2002

To that stupid mother fucker in my Chemisrty class in Hickman 101 on MW2: You are the stupidest half chink/ curry eating/ deigo that I’ve ever met in my entire life. How the fuck did you graduate high school, and noone cares if your family consists of cum-guzzling doctors. You and that crying bitch can go suck a fat cow’s cock. I’d stab you in the eye with my pen if your dental floss blindfold wasn’t in the way. Go back to Life Goes On, Corkey. You fat, stupid anus eating moron. There are some fat bitches on the colorguard?!?!?!?! Dude, when is the last time you located your penis. This would be insulating if it came from someone who didn’t suffer from “dunlap disease.” Your bitch tits dun-lapped over your belt. Seriously, your back boobs would make Star Jones jealous. Do you even know what kind of shoes you own? So what’s your deal? Were you turned down by a colorguard girl, or was it the colorguard guy? Why don’t you find a nice little farm animal from Cook to snuggle with you donkey-raping shit eater. Your mom says they nice this time of year. Grab the lube, the tweezers, and .44 magnum and do the world a favor, commit suicide. You know, even if I was a retard, that would not change the fact that you’re a goddamn fat-ass. Funny you bring up Star Jones, some o’ you bitches make her look like fuckin’ Halle Berry. Oh yeah, and 9 out of 10 sentient beings said that “dunlap disease” joke was really fuckin lame. What’s up with White dudes and chinks girls? Why you stretchin them out? Did you know that the reason black guys have big cocks is because black chicks have the biggest pussy. As is with every other race, which is why you should keep the chink tight for her little breakfast sausage link-sized chinese husband later. Lesson learned: stick to your own kind, especially if you’re 3/4 black (BRYCE) and you’re telling everyone that you’re portuguese, now that’s just wrong nigga. The preceding paragraph contains some of the truest words ever put together in a sentence. Pay close attention to the nuance.

DAPHNE = HOT! Candace: Now this bitch held shit down. Not only was she really fuckin hot, but she also kept the rest of those bitches in check the whole season. Every group of girls has its Alpha Female and Candace was definately that chick.

SEND MORE PERSONALS OR I WILL FILL THIS SPACE WITH BOOBS! WAIT...THAT WON’T MOTIVATE ANYBODY...

Jordan. In one word: Smokin. This girl has such a hot ass she could melt your car by sitting on it. She was kinda a bitch a little, but that could be over l o o k e d .

Let’s face it, spandex is nobody’s friend unless you wear it to a strip club. Which is probably one of your favorite hangouts being that your pet cat, which licks the peanut butter off for you, is the closest form of “pussy” that will come within 10 feet of you with or without coaxing. So before you go writing words, which seem cool only to retards that are into beastiality, why don’t you stick to your talents, the special olympics are right around the corner. The little bus will be picking you up soon. On a side note, your dad still owes me money I’m sure she would have written more, but you know how easily fat girls get winded. Ok, look you big blob of fat with eyes, I was gonna go easy on you, but since your little tirade has gone on about 3 minutes too long, I’m just going to be mean. Spandex looks good on ATTRACTIVE, REGULARSIZED women. Your Breakstone’s Cottage Cheese ass looks like 325 pounds of pudding in a 110 pound sack. Isn’t it funny how fucking obese girls always try to justify their huge guts by blaming it on the clothes they wear? If your hideous flab makes you sensitive to people’s jokes, don’t bother me with it. You’re not fat because of a gland, you’re fat because you eat too fucking much you goddamn whale!.


Wednesday, September 25, 2002

to that girl in my Latinas MW6 class: please put your breasts away. You are nothing but a stupid puerto rican Butterface, and we all know it. Stop wearing your low rise jeans and high cut thong, you look like a dirty slut. Love, the rest of the class. (Now, does she look like a dirty slut or is she infact one of the widely bred dirty sluts?) Jasonofabitch, I hate you with every fiber of my being. If you didn’t owe me $700 right now, I’d pour acid on your STD-ridden cock, you worthless scumbag bastard. Love, your ex- sugar momma (Anytime I hear someone called a “sugar momma” I can’t help but think of the horrible ending of Big Daddy where they order Onion Rings and the guy with the old balls is there, Am I the only one?) dear mike piazza, don’t stick your dick in that guy (That’s kinda like telling a whore to put the dick down. Piazza enjoys taking Jeter’s Jeep Liberty for a ride way too much to stop that!)

To the two whores attached at the hip next door: We’re sorry that we common Rutgers folk aren’t good enough for your discerning tastes. Guess you’ll have to fuck yourselves. Oh, and thanks for voting for our cause. Cuntlicks. To all you Jews out there, go light your minorah and lick your own matza BALLS. We’ve had enough of you rosh hashana lox and bagels, kevelta fish bull shit. go spin a dreidle up your ass. go read the torah because were coming after you and your kosher mom. tell your dad to cut those stupid looking curly hairs off his side burns and shove his yamuka up YOUR ass with his tiny jewish dick in it. Way to kill jesus and not celebrate christmas with us. (I guess somebody wasn’t lucky with the girls he tried to pick up infront of the Hillell on Saturday night.) to that kid in the Air Force ROTC who cheats his way into everything...we’re gonna rape you and have you courtmartialed or whatever, you’re goin down, bitch... (Everyone hates kids like that, it’s good that someone is taking time out to rape them, what they deserve!)

“I’m crazy, but I get the job done”

Oh and to all you fuckin eh, aboot, canadians... go the fuck back to your countries before the american power siezes your ass and makes you ALL slaves. You all are dumb fucks. And you crying bitch, i’m making all of my friends come to our class just to make you cry. We will prevail. (Canadians, what are they good for anyways? Hockey and some half-waydecent pop music?) to that bitch spreading rumors about me... i suck off one guy there and you have go around saying that i did the m all. who the fuck are you, you stupid fat cunt ass whore!! (See, that’s how it all starts. One guy the first week, two the second week, next thing you know you need to move onto girls ‘cause you did all the guys already) To that girl I spent this past weekend with. I can’t wait to do it all over again, it was the best weekend I’ve had in a really long time. I hope I can attempt to show you a good weekend when you come back here. I hope you enjoy what I’ll have planned for the weekend. www.ilovemartinscock.com

Personals

dear woman, please let me dip my balls in your mouth. i’ll run around before hand to get them all sweaty. that’s what they call ‘ball juice’ around here baby! booyah!

To the Personals Editor of this suck ass paper, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! You have the LAMEST comments ever. Say something stupid and funny not some corny fucking shit. Get a perverted fag to make the (I’d be very careful with who comments or something. or you ask to do that with. You some angry midget. fuck you might wake up with a sore (Seems like somebody had asshole in a frat house...) their feelings hurt. Poor little Hey assholes, don’t bring your Carl with his puppy dog eyes. computers in class to just fuck How about this, you ) around the whole time. Stay the phone is ringing and i canhome that way people don’t not linger, watch out butt here have to see your gay movies! comes my finger

The Thundercats are on their way to our weekly meeting. Why don’t you join them?

Come to the Medium Meeting this Wednesday. 9PM in room 113 of the Livingston Student Center. Bring Friends!


What’s Shakin’

Give up now, it only gets worse.

Wednesday, September 25, 2002

Jersey Events

Put down the joint, ya cross-eyed pothead. You’re coming to the Medium meeting. (it’s not like you have anything better to do than pick the Dorrito crumbs off your Phish shirt.) It’s at 9:30 tonight, room 113 in the Livingston Student Center. And don’t pull that “I have an exam tomorrow” shit either.

Wed 9/25 - Jimmie’s Chicken Shack - Jimmy’s Haunt, Morristown Wed 9/25 - Brian Jonestown Massacre, Dead Meadow - Maxwell’s Fri 9/27 - In Flames - Birch Hill Fri 9/27 - Johnny Winter - The Stone Pony Fri 9/27 - Dead Moon - Maxwell’s Sat 9/28 - Hoobastank - Birch Hill Sun 9/29 - Leona Naess, Emm Gryner - Maxwell’s Sun 9/29 - Cky, Leisure, All American Rejects - Birch Hill Wed 10/2 - Avril Lavigne, City High - Sovreign Bank Center, Trenton Wed 10/2 - Dishwalla - The Stone Pony Wed 10/2 - Ari Hest, Llama - Maxwell’s Thur 10/3 - Splender - Birch Hill

-Fi i H can . Gym i r e m e Ave A d an lleg

rt once C C RCP

9 e k Stro HT!

Co 7 pm n at he SAC RU ID) e p G o I r tt s TON Door vailable a(3 guests pe

New York City

e at th

ets a s $15 Tick 10, Guest

ent $ stud U R

Wed 9/25 - Daddy G of Massive Attack - Shine Wed 9/25 - John Doe, Kristin Hersh, Grant Lee Phillips - Bowery Ballroom Wed 9/25, Thur 9/26 - Dismemberment Plan, John Vanderslice, Quruli - North Six Thur 9/26 - Bouncing Souls, Anti-Flag - Irving Plaza Fri 9/27 - Gomez - Roseland Ballroom Fri 9/27 - Enrique Iglesias w/ Paulina Rubio Madison Square Garden Fri 9/27, Sat 9/28 - Robert Randolph & The Family Band - Irving Plaza Mon 9/30 - Gus Gus - Bowery Ballroom Tues 10/1 - Hoobastank - The World Tues 10/1, Wed 10/2 - Violent Femmes - Irving Plaza Wed 10/2 - The Jammys - Roseland Ballroom

Send concerts, gatherings, shows, happenings, goings-on, and dildo parties to orgykarma@yahoo.com

http://www.themedium.net

Philly Dates

(events, that is... the consequences being not knowing what to do on the weekend)

Fri 9/27 - Ratdog - The Electric Factory Fri 9/27 - Dismemberment Plan - Theater of Living Arts Mon 9/30 - Beatnuts - Theater of Living Arts

You will SUBMIT to me, or face dire consequences!


09/25/02