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Rutgers Entertainment Weekly www.themedium.net
January 27th, 2010
Volume xl Issue XIII
Profs Getting a Little Too Personal on Info Sheets
SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR REIGNITES! COMPETING BURRITO CHAINS PREPARE FOR BATTLE! BY SUM DUM JOO NEWS EDITOR
GEORGE STREET—On Friday, January 22nd, the Spanish-American War reignited in the middle of New Brunswick as Chipotle, a restaurant serving Mexican food with a spicy and unique flair, invaded the territory of Qdoba, a restaurant serving Mexican food with a spicy and unique flair. Chipotle president Cánovas del Castillo declared war in response to Qdoba’s recent attempt at independence by producing the “Burrito de Baire,” an epic meal containing ingredients never before used in a Mexican-American restaurant. “By invading the territory of Qdoba, we will be able to quell any dissent about Chipotle’s state of affairs,” said Castillo. He’s not kidding. As early as the first hour of Chipotle operation,
YO QUIERO PEACE ACCORD!
Scenes from the all-beef carnage on George Street
it was reported that one patron “Dave ‘The Maine’ Mainester” had “blown chunks” after consuming Chipotle. Local media ate up the story. Such catch phrases as “Remember The Maine! Fuck Chipotle!” have been advertized in numerous publications. Media critics have called this tactic “Guacamole journalism.” But this smashed avocado is just one part of this continuing saga. The New Brunswick Sewage Department, led by Superintendant Ted Roosevelt, have
invaded the pipes beneath George Street in an attempt to defeat the impending clogging that will occur once the food passes through the systems of the patrons. Roosevelt's band of "rough riders" are ready to take on the job.“Tensions are high, but as long as we make sure that both groups know their boundaries, the pipes will be safe. You know, if this purge is successful, I think I just may run for mayor," said Roosevelt.
OM NOM NOM
LOCAL CLASSROOM—Rutgers students from various campuses have reported a recent change in the “necessary information” requested by professors during the first week of classes. “I am used to the whole name and number thing,” says Patrick Gibbons, an SAS Sophomore, “But I was kind of confused when my Comp Sci professor asked for my mother’s maiden name and my social security number.” “My teacher asked for the PIN number to my ATM card,” said Michael Beekie, SCI Junior, “When I left class that day, I realized one of the TAs had stolen my wallet!” The curiosity among Rutgers professors has not been solely for identity theft. Michelle Whalen claims that her teachers are nothing more than peeping toms. “My professor for Intro to Comm had a section on the paper asking for my bra size and space to paste a full body photo of myself!” Whalen adds, “I’m not even going to tell you what he put under the 'Special Skills' section!"
INSIDE THIS ISSUE: Legislators Say Massachusetts Going Through 'Mid-Life Crisis'
BIG MAC BUSTED FOR USE OF FLAVOR-ENHANCING DRUGS BY OLIVER KLOZOFF STAFF WRITER
LIVINGSTON—This month Big Mac, world renowned for his flavor and “special sauce”, announced to the world that he had indeed taken steroids during the “burger battles” of the '90s. “I just wanted to be the best. I wanted to have more flavor than that bastard The Whopper,” said Big Mac. “I wish I had never touched steroids. It was foolish and it was a mistake. I truly apologize. Looking back, I wish I had never been eaten during the steroid era.” The news left the world unsurprised, as Big Mac is just another in the line of dozens of sandwiches that have admitted to using FED’s, or flavor enhancing drugs, to stimulate their taste and ability to attract customers. People ignored the changes in Big Mac flavor in favor of enjoying a new, more exciting hamburger, thus allowing Mac to enhance himself for years without much controversy.
SERVIN' UP JUSTICE! Big Mac swears he ain't tellin a whopper
Mayor McCheese released a statement. “I think this is a great opportunity to put the steroid era behind us so that we can all look forward to clean food and naturally great hamburgers.” Though Big Mac admitted using steroids to stay flavorful, he denied that they ever made him bigger or helped the juices from soaking into the buns.
“He’s still lying,” said the Wendy’s Double Stack, whose book, Pickled, fueled an FDA investigation into the use of steroids. “I’ve got no problems with a few of the things he’s saying, but again, it’s ironic and strange that Big Mac denies that I injected him with steroids. He’s calling me a liar again.” Many are saddened by the news feeling that Big Mac has cheated the industry of fast food. Recently Big Mac lost his second consecutive election into the Fast Food Corridor of Tastiness after suspicion of steriod usage lost Mac the required number of votes. “Personaly, I believe that the ‘Billions Served’ record McDonalds has should have an asterik put next to it or should just be stricken from the record altogether,” said The Burger King. Ronald McDonald could not be reached for comment. It is widely believed he has locked himself in his office, sobbing uncontrollably under his desk.
Don’t forget to buy your war bonds! ESTABLISHED 1970
Now color coded! News................1
Wednesday, January 27th, 2010
“You want to stick that dollar in my jockstrap?”
3-D GLASSES ISSUED FOR HIGH DEF CLASSROOM EXPERIENCE BY COMMANDO UNITED STATES NEWS EDITOR
COLLEGE AVE—The way you see your Expos lecture might never be the same. In a press conference yesterday, Rutgers President Richard McCormick announced his intentions to bring the third dimension into all University classrooms. Encouraged by the phenomenal commercial success of Avatar, University officials have worked closely with the Computer Engineering faculty to develop glasses that will give Rutgers students the gift of depth perception. President McCormick expressed his opinion that the development continues a long-standing Rutgers goal to keep pace with the nation’s best and brightest. “Hannah Montana has done it. The Jonas Brothers have done it. These are the types of people we need to emulate.” “This is 3-D like you’ve never
room experience. “I feel like I’m actually there… which I am, so it works.” The prospect of 3-D lectures has even encouraged some students to take more proactive measures preparing for class. Freshmen Mike Wertz says, “This is a great incentive to come to class blazed.” To promote the technology, Rutgers will now go full speed ahead on an elaborate marketing campaign THIS ISN’T 3-D! designed to attract new students and ...For that you have to pay double tuition! shit on competing universities. Early seen it,” said chief engineer Dr. Gri- estimates place the campaign at $100 gore Burdea. “Previous cinematog- million, which will include advertisraphers have been confined to com- ing partnerships with Coca-Cola and puter generated imagery to create a Twentieth Century Fox, and a halfrealistic experience. Here, we’re us- time ad for a randomly selected Daling real imagery to create the effect las Cowboys game. The project team continues to of even more realistic imagery.” perfect the technology. According to Tests of the new technology have proven remarkably successful. engineers, in the near future students Students such as sophomore Chris might not even need glasses to exRoth were amazed with the virtual perience a three-dimensional classreality the glasses added to the class- room.
CONSERVATIVES ARE RIGHT?
University Names Budget Gap After Milton Friedman BY TORGO VAN PELT STAFF WRITER
OLD QUEENS—After years of petitioning to get something named after him, supporters of noted economist and Rutgers College ’32 graduate Milton Friedman get their moment of glory, as University officials renamed their annual $50 million budget shortfall after him on Monday. “Without the wide adaptation of Friedman’s policies, this wouldn’t exist. We sure have a lot to thank for his advocacy of the freest markets possible,” explained Rutgers President
Richard McCormick. He then jumped out of a window. Also, the Milton Friedman Memorial Budget Gap won’t be measured in dollars. Instead, it’ll be calculated in Friedmans, a made-up currency where one Friedman equals ten cents, because the conservative activists proposing this like really large numbers. Despite this success, local College Republicans are still protesting the fact that Paul Robeson still has the cultural center on Busch named after him, instead of noted right-wing artisian Dennis Miller.
This week on
IrAq of Love Editorial Staff Spring 2010
Editor-in-Chief Managing Editor Business Manager Senior Editor
Colin Fong Reven Macqueen Ryan Buttacavoli Paul Winters
From The Desk of THE NEWS EDITOR An Open Letter to Conan O'Brian
Dear Conan, Greetings from the new News Editor! While I am excited to be entering my new position, I have had some time to think. Over winter break, I realized how horribly you were treated by the networks and by Jay Leno and so, I have come to one conclusion: I want you to have my job. You deserve it. You have more experience than I ever could have. Sure, this may be a step away from your days at the Harvard Lampoon, but The Medium has a place for a pale redhead like yourself. Unfortunately, this position is strictly voluntary. However, I am sure we can work something out. At the very least, I will get one of the lady editors to give you a blowjob every now and then. I’m sure at least one of them would be more than willing to open her mouth to what you have to offer. If not, I would gladly take their place. I’m not gay or anything. I just think you deserve it. -Sum Dum Joo
Medical Marijuana Legalized
Hundreds of Students Stricken with Cataracts
THE GOOD STUFF Just what the doctor ordered! BY ABA SABABA GANJA CORRESPONDENT
TRENTON—In the wake of last week’s passing of S-119, the Compassionate Use of Medical Marijuana Act, ophthalmologists across New Jersey have reported an unprecedented influx in cataracts among 18-25 year olds. “It’s unreal,” remarked Dr. Kenneth Goldstein, who had just diagnosed his sixty-fifth case in as many minutes. “I’ve never seen such an onslaught of News Editors Kaitie Davis Jordan Gochman Features Editor Abe Stanway Opinions Editor Erinn Koerner Arts Editor Katie Russian Personals Editor Dave Imbriaco
terrible eyesight in young kids.” Added Goldstein, “It must be something in the water.” Cataracts are a dreadful affliction of the eye that normally affects the elderly. Due to the recently passed legislation, sufferers now have the option of smoking medical marijuana to relieve them of their pain. “My pain, man…it’s just unbearable,” said one Rutgers student. “It’s like, mad painful, you know?” “Can I have my weed prescription now?” Students are urged to report suspected cataracts immediately at the Hurtado Health Center to receive treatment. A shipment of the finest, dankest New Brunswick buds is expected within the week to ensure the health and happiness of the student body. The staff of The Medium has also announced that most of its staff has developed this dibilitating eye disease since the passage of this law. Anyone who can provide medical assistance should attend the meeting tonight in Rutgers Student Center Room 411C with the appropriate medical supplies. Personals Editor What’s Shakin’ Editor Copyeditor Staff Photographer Faculty Advisor Resident Douche
Carmella Luczak Charlie Smith Sarah Honey Erin Koerner Barbara Reed Gov. Thunderthighs
The Medium is the entertainment weekly of Rutgers University. No article represents the opinion of the Medium or its authors. The Medium is a satire publication, and should never be taken seriously. The office of the Medium is located in Room 439 of the Rutgers Student Center at the College Avenue Campus. This issue is dedicated to Writer's Block. Because.... I don't know.
Wednesday, January 27th, 2010
“Persons deficient with regard to pleasure are not often found. But let us call them ‘insensible.’”
A Note from your Editor
A Bro’s Life
Ahh, another semester is upon
us. So break out your blunts, pack your bowls, and get ready for a hell-ride thriller of a showing from your favorite newsrag! -Aba Sababa
Chapter 1: The Beginning
My name is Ryan. I wear a Red Sox hat tilted at the perfect angle. My shorts are cargo; my polos, fresh. I get my hair cut twice a month in a classic fade. I played football in high school. Rutgers was my third choice, behind West Virginia and Syracuse. I am a bro. My parents wanted me to be an anesthesiologist, but I’m double majoring in communications and polisci. I figure that’s the way to get the most bang for my buck. There was a period when I wanted to be sportscaster like every other self-respecting male, but I’m aiming for the bar now. Lawyers make some kind of bank, don’t they? I know law school ain’t a walk in the park, but I can do the work. Work hard, play hard, man – that’s my fucking motto. I don’t think about the future too much, though. I’m a live-forthe-present kind of guy. And right now, my present is all about fucking Rutgers. This is it. College. I’m living the dream, one day at a time. This is my story.
ude, are you coming out with us, or what?” A sigh. I don’t fucking know. I gotta get this Media Systems paper done. Honestly though, I don’t give a shit. Steven Miller can lick my balls with his gnarly ass fingers. “Yeah, I’m coming,” I hear myself say. “What’s the deal? You fags start drinking yet?” Oh, have they. A veritable open bar greets me on the coffee table: two handles of Captain, a fifth of Travelers, and more Nattys than I care to count. “You dipshits couldn’t even buy the real stuff? I’m going to fuck my mother if I have to drink any more of this shit-ass beer.” “Shut the fuck up and get ready,” shouts Johnny-bro, ever so tactful. “We’re leaving in two seconds, with or without your faggot ass.”
Rutgers; it’s your turn! What does Ryan do? a. Punch Johnny-bro in the face for rushing his game b. Apologize profusely and drink his alcohol like a champ c. Sit there with a retarded look on his face d. Blurt out, “I think about you when I masturbate!”
Email your vote to email@example.com! Read next week’s issue to find out what happens!
Broetry, Volume V Where the Blowjobs End There is a place where the blowjobs end And before the sex begins, And there clothes are on the floor, And there you exhale, wanting more, And there you think that for this whore Its time to put it in… Let us leave this place where your all alone Just in your dorm room wanting to bone No, no my friend, this cannot wait We must run with a sprint, so we won’t be late We must leave from where you masturbate And go where the blowjobs end We must run with a sprint, so we won’t be late We must leave from where you masturbate For the biddies, they drink, and the biddies, they know The place where the blowjobs end.
By Nad Roj
An Interview With God
The Medium’s own JCoops snagged an audience with the big man himself! JCoops: You seem to be a bit of a dick in the Old Testament, but you’ve chilled out in the New Testament. I mean, the Flood, Sodom and Gomorrah…that’s pretty fucked up for a benevolent diety. God: Oh yeah, those were crazy times. The whole fire and brimstone thing was pretty trendy back then. All the gods were into it. Zeus had a hell of an arm with those lightning bolts of his. I don’t really remember much from back then, though. Mindless destruction wasn’t the only thing that was trendy hallucinogens were all the rage too. Hell, I don’t even remember the Jonah incident. I mean, I giant fish, seriously? And all those crazy ass revelations I told to Daniel, John...I was just tripping balls on acid. JCoops: I didn’t know gods could get high. God: Oh definitely. Actually, I remember this one time, I was a roadie for Pink Floyd and I had just smoked a bowl with David Gilmour and Roger Waters, and I hooked up with this real hot chick… I think her name was… Maggie… maybe Mary… JCoops: Wait, wait, as in that virgin? God: Yeah. I actually wanted her to get an abortion, but apparently I had made that a sin for some reason, and she refused. At least I snagged her vcard! JCoops: You really wanted to get Jesus aborted? God: Yeah, well she was already married and I really didn’t want kids at the time. You know, I was still on the dating scene and chicks don’t really wanna hear that you got a kid. JCoops: Well, thanks for your time, God! God: No problem, kiddo. See you on Judgment Day!
with Zayin Gadol
Dear Zayin, I heard Rutgers has its own STD. If that’s true, how do I know which girls have it and which ones don’t? They all look so deliciously hot! -Overly Cautious Dear Overly Cautious, You’re completely right. The Rash does exist, but to the untrained eye, it’s impossible to tell the bad vaginas from the good ones. As you know, the Rash is nothing to fuck with, and it’s important to know which chicks are flea-ridden, grimy sacks of flesh before you spit your best game on them. Luckily, there are a few blatant tell-tale signs. Any girl who wears velour six days a week is automatically an infested whore. Excessive makeup is another danger signal, because it means the broad is trying to distract you from the festering sores inside her mouth. Other signs include syringes half-buried in the neck and an entourage of ten to twelve syphilis-hungry meatheads that follow them wherever they go. Don’t even bother going after these girls with a condom, because their acids will eat through the latex and melt your dick off. You’re probably wondering, “But Zayin! It sounds like you just described every hot girl at Rutgers! Are they all human petri dishes?” Absolutely not! You’ll quickly see that there are two types of biddy. You’ve got the first type, the narsty cum-dumpster majoring in communication, but then there’s the second type – the organic girl. What’s an organic girl? You know the type. The ones that can rock their natural face without any makeup at all. The ones with antigravity asses that could only ever shit rainbows and ponies. They’re a wholesome snack any time of day, and recommended by nine out of ten doctors!
If you have a question for Zayin Gadol, submit it to features@ themedium.net.
Letter from the Editor
(Of the Page)
earest readers, Welcome to another semester here at good old RU. For many of you, this is a historic moment. You have made it through the drunken haze that was your first semester, and are well on your way to gaining your full freshman 15. Others have been here so long that they aren’t quite sure what they will do when they graduate and The Medium, a shining ray of hope in the middle of their horrible week, won’t be there. Regardless, there have been many changes here. I for one have gone from copy editor to op/ed editor, a move many may regard with suspicion, as two of my competitors were found beaten to death with a dictionary hours before the voting took place. No matter; I will pay them homage by dedicating my first page to conspiracies.
Point / Counter Point
Captain Bryan Doyle, NYPD POINT: Turn in Your Badge and Your Gun Right Now! God dammit McDuffy, do you realize the shit you just got yourself into!? I mean, you really fucked up big time on this one! I’ve got all of my men tied up downtown trying to keep that little fireworks display you made under control and at the same time, there is a school that needs one of its buses cleaned out from the amount of shit that those little kids made when they saw your reckless stunt on the bridge! I have the DA on the phone right now and he wants your head on a platter and the mayor is so far up my ass that we’d be a gay couple and a damn ugly one at that. God dammit, your father was ten times the cop you will ever be and it was a goddamn shame that he died the way he did. I’m sick and tired of covering your ass every god damn day. You’re a loose cannon who can’t just play by the rules! I would like nothing more than to make you turn in your badge and your gun right now and kick you to the curb. Get the fuck out of my sight! COUNTERPOINT: Wait, Get Back in Here Wait, McDuffy. Get back in here. Sigh… I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but god dammit, this department needs you. This city needs you. If I had ten cops like you, I could quit my job, buy a boat, and spend the rest of my life catching fish and fucking my wife. If your father was alive today, he’d be damn proud that his son turned out the way he did. You know what, McDuffy? You’re a goddamn sonofabitch who just can’t get along with the other little kids at recess. But God dammit, with God as my witness, you just keep finding ways to bust heads on the street and make sure little Tommy and Julie get home to their parents safe at night. This city has you to thank for that and we all owe you a great debt. Here’s your badge and gun back. Now get the hell out of my office.
OP/ED “A new year...or is it?”
Wednesday, January 27th, 2010
Secrets in McCormick’s Closet BY: Investegatory Journalist Staff Writer For years the charter signed by King George that gave permission for the university’s creation had been lost to time. One Rutgers professor claims to have the answer. Although he prefers to remain nameless, this brave man has finally decided to break his silence, and use an upstanding, professional paper such as this one to relate his tale to the rest of the student body. According to this professor’s story, the charter was locked in a room in The Old Queen’s building. The charter was hidden from public inspection due to a few changes made in its original wording. “The Dutch reformists wanted to create a Dutch reform college, but King George had other plans” the professor said. Apparently when the charter returned, King George had instructed that every student who attend the college first had to get two rejection letters from other, better universities, be forced to pay for one paper but not the other, better paper, and jump for joy at the thought of being repeatedly violated by Rutgers’ degree navigator and red tape. Why then, my astute readers might ask, does the charter still need to be hidden when Rutgers students already fit all of these requirements? Professor ‘X’ answered “the reason is financial. With the return of the signed charter, King George also sent many golden coins, and they too have never been recovered.” The charter and coins’ whereabouts have been a closely guarded secret, until now. Both pieces of history can be locat-
Dentists Behind Condom Smell The Right Advice from The Right with,
Paris Halin Many college students may be familiar with the sickening scent that is released when one opens a condom. While I’m sure that you’ve experienced this unpleasant sensation, whether out of morbid curiosity or accidently, there is a reason they smell the way they do. A 1920’s study revealed that people who were sexually active before they were married, and those who engaged in intercourse for reasons other than reproduction, were 69% more likely than those who didn’t to have an untreated cavity. The results of this study were hidden from the public so that the Horrible Organization of Dentists who Invent English-raincoats could use the findings to their advantage. It is widely known that the sense of smell is the strongest sense tied to
Reason Behind McCormick’s Haunting Smile Revealed
ed in a locked closest in the Old Queens building on the College Avenue Campus. There is only one key to the closet and it has been passed down from one university president to the next. Nineteen university presidents have all dipped into the golden stash to provide themselves with the half million five-year bonus, and other personal needs. If the charter were revealed, so would the personal spending of all the iconic Rutgers Presidents, including McCormick. Professor ‘X’ has organized a “charter club” that will meet Thursday at 10 PM in front of McCormick’s office. There students and faculty alike will demand the return of the funds and the charter which are the rightful property of the Rutgers students. RUPA will be on hand to divvy up what may be left of the gold coins in whatever manner they see fit. memory, and the H.O.O.D.I.E. organization knows that only too well. Many people were scared of going to the dentist; the pain, the sounds, and the smells all caused people to avoid going at all costs. To help rectify this situation the American Dental Association got together and secretly formed a subsection that created positive association with the latex smell from the gloves worn by dentists. They did this by bribing major condom companies to keep the revolting smell in their products. Years later, unsuspecting sexual deviants are brainwashed into trusting their dentist because they associate the latex smell of the gloves with pleasurable (and wrong, very wrong) sexual experiences of the past. The answer my young readers, is simple. Don’t use condoms.
Cute Things Corner
Wednesday, January 27th, 2010
“Every time we’re down, you can make it right, and thaaaat makes you laaaarger than life!”
...15 Years Later
Got doodles? Want to embarrass a friend, enemy, or co-worker with an unflattering photo? Send all submissions to firstname.lastname@example.org
THE MEDIUM To the dude who was in my Computer Hardware class during the winter semester; No one gives a fuck that you work for the Department of Defense and please, do us all a favor and invest in some Rogaine....or a fucking toupee. Your bald spot was blinding all of us. To the kid in my Info PPP class who would not shut the hell up; I’d be careful as to argue with the scary brown dude. He made someone cry last semester, and you look like the type. Also, no one likes you so take your Sakai suggestions and go die. WANTED: THE HEIR OF SLYTHERIN. My Chamber of Secrets hasn’t been touched in over 50 years. (...and it probably never will be.) To WH, you douchebag pharmacy fucker. Stop being such a chink, Rutgers has spokenand we have decide nobody likes you! We don’t care how far down you can shove a banana down your throat you homofuck, and we wish you’d stop playing Street Fighter all day. It is a disturbing image watching you jerkoff to Zangief. Last, dressing up as Ash Ketchum is not cool in no way shape or form, and will not get you into bed with that certain someone, SS. (Our EIC on The Medium might disagree with you on that Ash thing...) Your self worth is as much as the living space we gave you, the tiny cupboard you call your bedroom. I don’t want to sound racist, but judging from the people who live in my apartment building, I’m not too surprised that the stairwell always smells like fried chicken, and that the sticky orange stuff on the floor just might be orange soda... To the girl in my building who acidentally threw all of the alcohol bottles down the stairs Saturday morning; That was fucking hilarious, but I think you might have a serious drinking problem.
Wednesday, January 27th, 2010
“I hope your cancer comes back and your balls fall off you Napoleonic bastard.” To whoever called me a There is no such thing as a To the tan and muscle“fuckin dumbass bloods dumb Asian. If there is, he bound gentleman in wannabe” in the last issue or she would be called a Brower eating a salad: of the Medium. If I ever “Cock Asian” your vagina is showing. find out who you are, I will To the Jersey Shore reject To my “city in Australia” come after you, and it’s not at Red Oak Lane, the entire RA, I didn’t like the flavors gonna be pleasant. In fact, I bus was laughing at your at the ice cream social, so will let you die slowly and hilariously terrible looking I had your boyfriend inpainfully. If you ever get spray on tan. Only thing stead. He was delicious. scared and leave the coun- worse than a Guido is a Oh, and I’m a dude. try, me and my goons will wannabe Guido. To the guy who caught his find you anywhere, even in To the girl with the stuffy roommate jacking off to his the steppes of Mongolia or nose at the floor meeting ; computer, at least he was the glaciers of Greenland or DON’T SPEAK! doing it Captain Morgan Antarctica. Don’t fuck with (2 words....Swine. Flu. style; it adds some class. the Bloods! Watch out for that shit.)
To the two girls at Brower on friday morning: I am going to call you two “the egg girls” because you got both scrambled eggs and fried eggs. What the fuck is that shit!? I felt bad making fun of you guys until one of you started singing “Bad Romance” out loud as you were getting drinks. Never go back to Brower. Ever. (Either they’re going to die of cardiac arrest or they are going to get pecked to death by a mob of angry chickens.) Dear pot-heads below and across from us, We never called the RA about your herb smoking habit. We called about the noise. Regardless, STOP BLASTING YOUR TERRIBLE MUSIC. Nobody cares what your favorite band sounds like. Plus, no one really wants to hear your horrid guitar playing, Jimmi Hendrix is rolling around in his grave at the thought of it. So do the world a favor and hang yourself from your guitar strings.
To the annoying cunt; you know who you are. I hope you develop alcoholism, drop out of school, fuck a bunch of sleazy girls and maybe one or two trannies contracting herpes gonnorhea and crabs, get some loud bitch pregnant, have her guilt you into marrying her, keep drinking a lot, get violently ill, have a domestic violence dispute, get arrested, have that crack baby of yours born with low birth weight and learning disabilities, get divorced, get a job at a gas station to pay your child support and alimony, get fired for being such a dumb fuck, get addicted to heroine, become a prostitute, get paid to have some fat girl fuck you in the ass with a strap on, and then stub your toe really bad. You fucking douchebag! (Yeah! TOE!)
To the girl in my lecture class who said “start making noise, he’ll stop” like seven times. Shut the hell up and stop sticking your ass in everyone’s face.
Dear Matlab Nerds, FUCKING STOP ASKING QUESTIONS! You’re driving everyone insane with your irrelevant bullshit. You’re clearly kissing the professors ass like your life depends on it. Seriously, FUCK OFF so I can listen to lecture for at least 5 minutes without another dumbass interruption. You probably get less girls than a mens’ bathroom. To Middle Eastern Tom Cruise - Really? A yourmom joke? What a straightoff-the-boat thing to say. You had an entire week to think of something and this is all your bitchass could come up with. You stupid? Too many head injuries from eating asphalt on your yamahahahaha I suspect. Guess that helmet of yours ain’t worth shit. You should probably go get a new one before the next time you ride off with all your tokyo drift bromosexuals. Vroom Vroom muthafucka. Fuckin’ white trash honkeys, yo!!!
I just wanted to say to the person who so eloquently wrote on my door “turn off your alarm”, that when I got home from working at that stupid football game AT ONE THIRTY IN THE MORNING I had no idea my alarm was still set for 8:30 am, and I didn’t know it was going to go off all fucking weekend while I was 40 min away in completely DIFFERENT TOWN! So fuck you, fucktard. I don’t have magic powers and I don’t have super hearing. I can’t turn off something and I can’t read your gay ass note on my FUCKING DOOR while I’m home enjoying the FUCKTARD FREE environment. Thanks for reading. Now go die of liver failure. ;) (Or you could just not be a fucking twat waffle and remember to turn off your fucking alarm. Just a thought.) To all men in the Rutgers Band, Have you guys realized that you have all been hooking up with the same girl!? It is so ridiculous, I watch you guys get played like there is no tomorrow. I mean damnnn I know she is a saxaphone player.. so she is great at blowing things... and she is fat so her self esteem is down their as well.. but all of u need to make an emergency appointment at Hurtado asap.. hope u guys used dental dam or something on that bitch!. I guess it true what they say about bandies, cuz all y’all motherfuckers fuck like crazy while having no standards. To the loser watching Stargate while Saw 3 was playing at the Quads this Tuesday; WTF we told you turn down that shit 4 times! We also noticed how you casually chewed on fucking paper, and the collar of your shirt looked like a fucking werewolf took a bite out of it. BE LESS WEIRD PLZKTHX You owe me cookies for fixing your page. Like tons of them
Bitch on bitches. Spicy Caramel loves ya! Personals@themedium. net
Wednesday January 27th 2010 To the two assholes in my Calc 2 class, What the FUCK!! What is your motherfuckin Problem! Why would you take my friend’s and my seat in the front of the class!? Because of both of your fuckin disregard for someone else’s claimed seats we now can’t see the fuckin board!! Don’t touch our seats ever again, you motherfuckers!! And stop flirting with each other through math!! It is the most nastiest thing ever!! Whocares if someone getting the answer right turns you on, just don’t go doin it in our seats!!!! We don’t need you guys fuckin orgasming in the place we normally sit for 80 fuckin mins in this lame ass class. So next time you fugly ass losers decide to steal our seats, DON’T!! Or else I’m gonna Kung Fu your asses! Take that you motherfucking Theives. (Holy shit you talk A LOT! I bet you’re the type of girl that would be screaming so loud during sex I’d have to smack you with my cock and be like “Bitch shut the fuck up and swallow my cum.”) To the kid in my micro class who wear’s a yamacha every day. Your voice is annoying and your questions suck. When you open your mouth even our professor gets frustrated. And remember the day when our professor said the other kid’s idea was better? yea he wasn’t kidding, idiot. As I sit in class, porn on the computer, I wonder to myself (about the TA) how much to do her? (If you’re that bored in class, please be less of a creep and play World of Warcraft or something.) So if I rubber up, I can’t come. Go bareback, I’m done in 40 seconds and will eventually have to pay child support. Catch-22 if I ever heard one! To that dumbfuck grad student who managed to get Newark Airport shut down so he could say goodbye to his sultwhore girlfriend: you are the epitome of asshole. I seriously hope your dick falls off while you’re fucking your dumb bitch of a girlfriend and you bleed to death from it This personal is not funny. Do not laugh at it.
“Rest in drunken peace, Golden Rail Pub. You will be missed :-(” to the stupid ass fucking To the juiced up Frelingchick on the 4th floor lo- huysen creeper, get the fuck cated across from the girls out of our building, you bathroom ..... all i hear from don’t live here. You strut your room is banging (and around our halls with your WE’RE BAAAAACK! Back like the bitches in a Sir i dont mean of the sexual HGH filled arms but no- Mix-a-Lot video. Enjoy our leftovers from last semsesort) your must hit your body wants you here. You ter and start sending your submissions into Personals@ fucking head on the brick fucking live in Brett Hall, TheMedium.net. If you’re too lazy or retarded to do wall at least five times ev- you nerd. Please stop using that, we have, coming in the not too distant future, a ery night from thirsty thurs- our study lounge facilities Medium website where we’ll have a webform to make day through sunday (the when you could just whack submitting personals easier than drowning an infant in LORDS day!!).im gunna off with your chink room- the ocean. Oh, and we kept a tally of how many people hold a fucking raffel in our mate. Seriously though, bitched about the buses and dorms last semseter, so here’s building to raise money to go pop your adderall pills the official count! buy u a helmet so u wont somewhere else, no one loose as many brain cells has time for you and your The Most Hated Bus Routes of Fall 2009 Based on and flunk out of colllege. k. flabby love handles. So take Submissions to Personals: denada punta... your disproportionate vieny 1. F (How appropriate...) (I bet you’re disappointed ass outta here, peace. 2. EE that it’s not the sexual sort... to the girl with a constant 3. LX (My personal most-hated route.) do I detect some sexual frus- stank face in solid gems, tration on your end? Per- you tattoo fuckin scares the The Most Dysfunctional Dorms of Fall 2009 Based on haps your vag hasn’t seen shit out of me. you are a the Same Criteria: any since you were 15 and rude ass bitch and everyone contracted herpes? And in class now knows that you 1. Voorhees, Frelinghuysen, Metter (3-way tie!) why do you care if it’s “the know what the square root 2. The Quads (all four), Henderson Apartments, LipLORDS day” or not? Did of 16 is. if you said it one pincott (Another 3-way tie! Lippincott people REALLY you not take 3rd grade sci- more time my friend would hated each other.) ence or something or are have punched you in your 3. Brett, Crosby, Demarest (Yes, another 3-way tie) you just that retarded?) ugly rude little face. To the annoying bitch in I know people are tired of I look forward (well, kinda, depending on the shit you my Women/Culture class: hearing complaints about send us) to your submissions and having another kickass SHUT THE FUCK UP! the new stadium, but seri- semester of Personals. Cheers, bitches! Did you ever stop to look ously Rutgers? A whole around while your talking?! new student section that ~Satanic Yoda Noone is listening! Not to completes the stadium and Your fucking voice is pierc- To that slob-fucker Asian mention the obnoxious adds many more seats, but ing, yelling at your ugly-ass kid who plops down in the shrill of your voice sounds the bathrooms still only girlfriend on the phone, her table across from me in the like nails on a chalkboard. have about 4 or 5 urinals? face looks like it got hit by a student center and starts Everytime you open your No line for the men’s room car and THEN was punched slirping/chomping his lo mouth, I suddenly day- should exceed the line for in the face by a gorilla who mein... You are both an anodream of shoving pencils in the opposing gender’s. partnered with a dinosaur moly and a sick little shit. my eardrums.Noone gives a Oh Giant Oh Giant you’re which subsequently fucked I thought Asians were supshit about your favorite Dis- loud as hell Your face is her in the face thrusting posed to eat inconspicuney movie, nor do we need filled with hair and probfaster and harder until he ously, thus putting us white a recap of last night’s epi- ably the same under there, became extinct, I can only people to shame when we sode of John and Kate Plus Never clean, really smelly, relate that ugly bitch to try to use chop sticks... My 8. And you like, use like, Loves to eat, your lunch is powerful beasts and ma- God that was so annoying. like every five seconds,so a deli I hate your loud ass, chinery. Maybe you should I was so relieved to be back like can you like shut up? always the same tone. get off that donkey-pussy? at school and have my shit Thanks. (...and your poetry makes (??????????????????) going well...until I had to (Annoying bitch in Women/ me want to club you with a To the girl singing Tik Tok take the LX at 9 in the fuckCulture class...isn’t that re- dinosaur bone!) on the A Bus today - you ing morning. All of you dundant?) As you’ve noticed I’ve need some work with your fucks better stay out of my dear second floor RA,we stopped rhyming, there’s way before I’ve had my coflove you, even if you look nothing poetic about a vocals, but the rest of you is fee if you value your lives at fine by me *wink* like fiona from shrek. walking feces. Why are you (Hopefully for your sake her all. (So, almost an ogre? You so dumb Giant, why don’t bad singing doesn’t trans- Dear Typhos, you guys are obviously don’t love her you fall? Actually who late into splitting your ears so metal that your music very much, unless you love cares you can you live in the when you bang her.) makes my blood turn into her to the point you don’t basement, a more suitable Hey Mens Basketball Team, mercury. Maybe that’s why mind telling her the honest environment for a walking you assholes better win on I’m now half retarded and truth and are then willing to dumpster… that won’t shut Saturday, or that’ll be the fi- dropping out of Rutgers. deal with the consequences the fuck up! Dear Cablevision: stop tossnal straw. If you guys lose, of her suicide resulting from Just curious, if I come to ing salad and fix my god you will no longer be part of her already low self-esteem. a gay rights rally with a damn internet! The whole my gay masturbation fantaWhat great residents you all boombox blaring nothing no downloading porn thing sies anymore! are!!) but “Stuart” by The Dead (...and that’s a bad thing? is chaffing my dick! Isn’t Yellow Fever and JunMilkmen, will I be lauded You wouldn’t happen to be (Alrighty, I’ve been drinking gle Fever the exact same as a hero or will I be Matt Stein at the Targum, the entire time I’ve been dothing? You should probably chased out of town? ing this page, so I’m gonna wouldn’t you?) call the latter The Black (Either you’ll be pitching or go hit the bar. See you fuckPlague to avoid the confucatching for the rest of the This isn’t funny, either. ers next week!) sion. day!
FROM THE DESK OF SATANIC YODA...
Wednesday, Manuary 27th , 2010
“Don’t write Haiti.”
BRETT FUCKING FAVRE
What’s Gerard Way-kin’
From my Heart to your Brain’s Heart BY MICRO F-150 HORRIBLY UNQUALIFIED
Welcome to the future of the backpage dudeguys and guydudes. As creatures of habit, people fear change. Change means uncertainty. I am incredibly uncertain of many things going into my final semester; money and employment issues, building a class schedule that I feel comfortable with, but most of all whether Brett Favre will play again. Brett Favre is a symbol, an icon of determination with a visage of pure grit. For the first time in centuries Favre looked worn and aged against the Saints. I watched him get God-handled for three hours last night. The beating inspired me to call my grandfather because old men all over the country felt those crushing tackles. The loss of Favre is something I personally am taking in stride, simply because New Orleans really could use a break. People were living in the Super Dome five years ago, so it’s only fitting that Favre in his infavrenite wisdom alotted them some temporary happiness. Kinda like what Don Cheadle did for Rwandans with the announcement of his role in the upcoming film “Iron Man 2”. However, this is a massive underestimation of Brett Favre’s heart, which in the NFL is considered Deus Ex Machina. He is an unbreakable Demi-Viking that must make a triumphant return from Valhalla one last time, to set this country and world right. Will Favre return? One can only hope. To quote Limp Bizkit: “Gotta have faith/ Gotta have faith/ Gotta have faith!/ Get tha fuck up!!!” Get the fuck up indeed Fred, get the fuck up indeed. Heroes like him are few and Favre between.
From the Desk of the Editor:
He’s really not OK. Trust me.