The Black Sheep
Fre e... lik 1 s e bei ee ng d, b th itc e n hes um . ber
• a college newspaper that’s actually about college •
Volume 6, Issue 9 3/14/12 - 3/21/12
theblacksheeponline.com @MSUBlackSheep
Luck of the lying irish justin gawel wrote this
With St. Patrick’s Day on Saturday, the Sunday after will consist of many apologies. From the typical, mundane apologizes of, “I’m sorry that I threw up in your sink” and the “Sorry, I fell asleep in your bed with a lit cigarette in my hand,” to the other end of the spectrum with apologies like, “I really shouldn’t have tried to upper deck our own toilet, roommate.” Or the classic “I’m sorry that I tried to blow your dad after he won that game of beer pong for us.”After reading this article, however, you’ll be able to lie your way into appearing sincere and apologetic this Sunday, no matter how little you actually mean your “apology.” Let me walk you through how your Sunday afternoon is going to go: You wake up Sunday, high noon, with your mouth tasting like Jameson and vomit. Your face is smashed into a couch pillow and your junk may or may not be out. A feeling like you did something shitty (or shittier than what you usually do when you’re hammered) mysteriously sets in. A quick check of the phone reveals no clues, only a picture message in your outbox that looks like a very grainy picture of a very grainy butthole you sent to your ex. Nothing out of the ordinary to apologize for there, so maybe you’re just feeling bad for no reason. Or something you dreamed, or maybe everyone else was too sloptacular last night to remember anything either and now you’re off the hook. Either way, it’s probably better to just pull the Kwame Kilpatrick defense for now and deny, deny, deny (unless you’re in front of a judge). Denying feels right as you comfortably saunter to the bathroom, guilt-free for now, but your buddy soon appears out of nowhere and orders you to apologize to some girl that he claims you taunted and stole from last night. You are skeptical at first, as this friend typically overreacts to everything. You ask, “Wait, this isn’t like the time when I told your grandma I didn’t like Hawaii Five-O and she spent the rest of her birthday crying, is it? Because, seriously, dude, I don’t owe your now-deceased grandma an apology. CBS owes me an apology and I owe CBS a Hawaiian punch in the dick hole for putting that atrocity on the air in the first place.” No, he assures you, this is much worse and that you need to come with him right now. As you walk outside, your friend informs you that last night you farted on someone’s little sister’s McNuggets so that she would be grossed out and you would have a window to steal all her chicken parts. "Brilliant", you think to yourself as he recounts the story. Your friend seems fairly upset by the situation, so you inquire if he was sure it was you. He says he’s “pretty sure, bro” and shows you a video he took of you, drunk, jumping around the furniture with the aforementioned McNuggets while
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you screamed, “Parkour-McNuggets, parkour-McNuggets!”
child in an adult’s body. I don’t even know how to apologize for that part.”
From there, your buddy escorts you into a house and there is a girl you’ve never seen before. She looks pissed. So, you take a breath, you flood your mind with that sad trip to the Humane Society you took when you were 9, feel the tears coming, and, sure enough, feel your lip quiver slightly as the fabrication begins: “Listen, I-I’m sorry I farted on you when I was drunk and stole your McNuggets. I-I, I’m just so ashamed. You know, my dad was an abusive alcoholic and forbid my siblings and I to ever, ever have McNuggets and you can imagine when alcohol hits me and I see McNuggets, I just lose it a little bit as all that emotion comes flooding back. As for the parkour, well, I’m really just a
You turn your head away (really selling the embarrassment and shame) and she’s either bought the apology by now or not. If not, just keep elaborating and lying, and (hopefully), she’ll come around eventually. Once she ideally has, offer to buy her McNuggets next time (like either of you will remember that) and continue selling the sadness and remorse until you’re a safe distance away. Once you’re on your way to lunch, be sure to alert the Academy of your Oscar-worthy performance. After that, relax. It’s time to nurse that hangover, buddy ol’ pal.
where a horse cop can trample a can man to death.
He’s like a vampire, just the exact opposite.
GoobaS pizza? Now that’s a stretch.
see page 4
see page 5
see page 11
An Interview With A Leprechaun
You’re Going to Poke Me Where?