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Volume 1, Issue 3 | 9/28/11 - 10/19/11 |


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Black Sheep

“A College Newspaper That’s Actually About College”

Black Sheep Investigates: oxford Legends Uncovered J.B. Cole wrote this There are many legends swirling around campus that allow students to conjure up wives’ tales and half-truths that mystify and mortify students every year. Here at The Black Sheep we am to clear the air and hit you with some goddam truth. If you were quite the achiever in high school and it hasn’t panned out for you in college in the grade department, predominately because you go out every single night getting black out, you, my friend, are in luck. You can still salvage that first semester of college and bring a report card home that your parents will be proud to stick up of the fridge. The only catch, and there is always a catch, is that you will have to somehow convince your roommate to do the unthinkable: Off themselves. After you post Photoshopped pictures of him butt-pumping a helpless canine on Facebook, you are well on your to way whistling Dixie with a 4.0 in your back pocket. Rumor has it our lovely administration here at Ole Miss believes that if you suffer the loss of your roommate while living in the dorm, you need not worry about excelling in the classroom. Instead, they hit you with a nice round 4.0 GPA for the semester so you can focus on the more important aspects of college: sippin’ booze and chasin’ tail. Just remember, don’t let the trail lead back to you. So what if your grades are already good with your roommate still intact, but you are tired of paying off Uncle Sam and the financial aid office? The Black Sheep has a solution. Always economically conscientious, we have devised a way for you to go tuition free for the semester. All you have to do is camouflage yourself to look like a crosswalk and wait for a University vehicle to come cruising along on campus. Once you have that navy blue van in your cross hairs, hide in some bushes near a cross walk of your choosing, and suddenly sprint out in front of said University vehicle. If you're

Other stuff


04: SEC Roadtrip!

Part one of a guide on how to party with the enemy.

wary of broken bones or a messed up face, you better start taking some acting classes, because to pull of a stunt that secures you free tuition, it better be an Oscar-worthy performance. Fake blood and a few pre-applied bruises will go a long way in fooling the driver and the University into giving you money. So earn yourself a scholarship, cross walkstyle. After getting pummeled into a storm drain by a University vehicle, you find yourself in a magical and mystical place. You are not at Hogwarts or in Hell; you have stumbled upon the path that James Meredith took to class. If you don’t know who James Meredith is, read a damn book and visit him between the library and the Lyceum. This short, subtle man did not get to walk to class amongst his peers in the hostile and heady sixties because he didn’t look like everyone else on campus at the time. And because the people he didn’t look like weren’t too fond of his presence on campus, the administration and the Feds gave him his own special route. This route was a series of tunnels that kept him out of harm's way and into the classroom safely. You will be hard pressed to find this majestic maze, as these routes are consciously inconspicuous and hidden from the most seasoned searchers on campus. Now that you are informed, go out and get you that 4.0 you have always dreamed off the easy way. Don’t worry about student loans or working nights and weekends to afford your college tuition. Instead, take that time to explore what is underneath the Grove and walk in the steps of history. But don’t just take our word for it. Go and find out for yourself! (Seriously though, don’t take our word for it…for, y’know, legal reasons.)

05: Swap Time

It’s getting to be Greek swap season. Why aren’t there vacation days for this?

11: Nicktoons

Hey Arnold! Yeah, you! Where my money at, Arnold?!


Meet The Staff!

Table of


campus manager Scott McVey editorial manager Lee Smith Advertising Managers Scott McVey Wes White

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Page 07

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Top 10 Dangerous and unsuspecting ways to get drunk...

marketing team Scott McVey Reaghan Foley

Ask Her for Adderall

It’s like Viagra for your brain.

campus director Brendan Bonham

marketing manager Monty Miller

Founders Scott McVey, Wes White, Brendan Bonham, Atish Doshi, Heather-Jo Erickson, Jimmy DeBlasio, and Jessica Sommers

marketing team Scott Mcvey and Morgon Monroe

distribution Manager William Mayfield

Writers Monty Miller Phillip Berry James Foster J.B Cole Marcus Bell Paul Eason

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Party Pics + Shoutouts Oh yeah, we have a picture of what you did last weekend... Fall Sporting Options Too cold for the pool? We've got some options for you

Pages 10 & 11 The World Famous Bar Grid!

Get your drink on every day of the week, fo' real cheap.

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Bartender of the Month Try his Purple Headed Yogurt Slinger! We Interview: Das Racist

We swear, they aren't really racist...

The 14th Minute Why in the world are these people famous? Seriously. The Puzzle It's mind-blowing...can you solve it?

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SEC Road Trip Guide

10) Sangria: This delicious fruit juice and wine combination is basically harmless until you decide to walk around with and eventually down an entire gallon jug of Carlo Rossi. Chunks of fruit are not your friends on the way back up.

Monty Miller wrote this If you’re like me, sometimes Oxford can get a little boring. There are only so many times you can walk circles around the Square at night, drinking heavily and watching other people drink heavily. If you ever find yourself feeling tired of the Oxford routine, then maybe you should pack up that crappy metal box you call a car and take that time honored college tradition: the road trip. So, you’ve got your supplies: beer, Cheetos, and a carton of Kools. Now the real question becomes,“where should we go?” Have no fear. The Black Sheep is here to help with that. Gas is really expensive right now (thanks for nothing, Iraq), and that can cut down on your possible trip distance, but the good news is that there are eleven other SEC schools surrounding us, and, being the great Ole Miss student that you are, you should take it upon yourself to visit these other schools and their respective hometowns during your collegiate career. Some the cities are fantastic. Others are fantastically terrible, but they are all worth at least one trip. Here’s a handy guide to the six SEC schools of the East: Columbia, SC (USC): The home of the Gamecocks. Great football gameday atmosphere here, with the alwayspacked William-Brice stadium (look up a South Carolina football team running into the stadium on Youtube and you will see just how crazy it can get in there). Also, they have the hilariously named “Cockaboose,” a 22-car train that sits just outside the stadium. The big downside to Columbia? Having to hear the constant stream of cheers having to do with Cocks. Seriously, it’s all Cocks, all the time.

9) Beer: Ole reliable. Every man’s go-to for almost every occasion. You can safely drink beer all day long. However if shotgunning and funnels get in the mix you may end up pissing your cut-off overalls in the back of a Lafayette county sheriff’s department cruiser. 8) Wine: In a dinner setting, wine is fantastic. But when some “hot” girl is shoveling three-for-ones down your throat at the Burgundy Room, you might wake up to discover that you are a bit of a chubby chaser. 7) Smirnoff Ice: The thing that makes an Ice dangerous is that you never plan on drinking one. In fact they are almost always delivered to your unsuspecting hand at the most inopportune moment. If you’ve ever had to take a knee in the middle of the bar not 10 seconds after downing a hot double of well tequila you know what I’m talking about.

the U.S.S.R.” ugly. It’s like the entire town was built with concrete. Add all of the orange apparel you’ll be seeing, and your eyes are in danger of being burned out of their sockets by tackiness.

"Add all of the orange apparel you’ll be seeing, and your eyes are in danger of being burned out of their sockets by tackiness."

Gainesville, FL (UF): There isn’t much surprise involved when it comes to visiting Gainesville: lots of very tan people, gators, and, like all Floridian cities, a small army of retired senior citizens. It’s a nice place to visit, but there’s nothing truly special or unique here that doesn’t have to do with a successful football program. Speaking of which, you should go deface their new Tim Tebow statue. Or just make a statue of a Denver Broncos bench and make his statue sit on it. Lexington, KY (UK): There’s a reason you don’t really hear anything about Kentucky besides basketball. This is because basketball is basically the only thing to actually care about in Lexington. I’m not saying it’s a bad town; just that it doesn’t have the same appeal as some of the other cities. You know your school is boring when your most famous alum is Ashley Judd. Fuck her, right? Knoxville, TN (UT): There are some great football traditions in Knoxville, including the Volunteer Navy, the group of over 200 boats that dock right next to stadium on gamedays. The campus, on the other hand, is incredibly ugly. Like “Eastern European country during the reign of

unsuspectingly dangerous drunk-inducing liquors

Nashville, TN (Vandy): This one isn’t very fair to the other school’s towns, on account that everything you’re going to do in Nashville you probably still could’ve done if Vanderbilt didn’t ever exist. That doesn’t include Vanderbilt University Medical Center, where you will probably be admitted after you get shlammer-faced and pick a fight with a member of the Kings of Leon, or if you’re lucky, someone with actual musical talent. Athens, GA (UGA): I saved the best of the SEC East schools for last here. Athens is an unbelievable town. Never been there? Go. Now. Skip whatever class you’re in, quit your job, put your baby up for adoption; whatever you have to do to be able to get there. You will not regret it, I promise. Athens is Oxford on steroids, and without all the ridiculous alcohol laws to keep you down. Like your beer cold? They’ve got plenty of it. Want to walk down the street while sipping a nice adult beverage? Feel free. In fact, be my guest. Want to ride Georgia’s live bulldog, Uga, like a pony around town? I won’t stop you. Check back next issue for a guide to the schools a little closer to home, the schools of the SEC West.

6) Gin: Anything that smells like Christmas trees has to be classy right? Wrong. When a certain bartender (whose name starts with a C and ends with an ameron) is pouring your gin and tonics, you are sure to wake up with a hellish head-splitting hangover and far more questions than answers. 5) Whiskey: There is a reason it’s called “whiskey bent.” The night starts off with a Katt Williams-esque vow to get fucked up, but after two thirds of a bottle you are perfectly happy to irrationally scream at your girlfriend over the phone and rip off your shirt at the first opportunity to throw a punch at some random guy outside the Levee. 4) Vodka: We have all experienced the vodka drunk. It goes sober, buzzed, buzzed, buzzed, hey I’m getting a little tipsy, and then you wake up after diving head first into a bat shit crazy destructive blackout. After diving into this blackout I usually end up diving head first into some concrete and wake up with some blunt force trauma to my dome piece. 3) Tequila: This shit will make you muy, muy loco. Two-for-one margaritas at El Milagro (actually made with Everclear but you think you’re drinking tequila so it counts) turn into paying $8 a pop for Patron shots for you, all your friends and whichever girl you have decided to attempt to take home. You better hope you know a bartender if you decide to drink tequila all night. Otherwise Cobra security won’t appreciate it when you try dance on the bar and fall in the trash can behind it. 2) Frat party hunch punch: It’s not the 2 handles of Everclear, handle of Aristocrat, and handle of cheap rum. It’s the QB sneak that makes this pink concoction dangerous. For those of you who think I’m talking about football, I’m actually talking about the sneaking of a quarter of a bar into your drink. And a quarter of a bar is about what each Solo cup of hunch punch has, so have fun with that blackout. 1) Rumplemintz: A friend once told me that he can’t remember a single night that he took a Rumple shot and didn’t black out. I can’t remember a single one either. Nobody can. Enough said. Paul Eason wrote this

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SHOUT OUTS! Nick, if I get charged for sexual harassment because of you one more time, there will be blood. Hey KM, remember that one night when we drank the entire bottle of gin? Yeah I don't either -smores Dana and megan- sorry for getting wasted and pissing on your rug. Next time i'll wear pampers to our Monday funday party. Dear Bruce: We didn't make out cus you have stuff in your teeth. Dear Cass, I'm sorry for destroying your "How to draw children" book. Now how are you going to lure little boys and girls into your abode? Sincerely, You know damn well who I am! Dear epic hide and seeker, You left a '21' pimp stein class in the black sheep sheep box And I found it. I win. To Stephanie I met at Levee, Marry me? - Tony Random bro that approached me outside a house party, I really hope that everything goes well with your younger sister’s pregnancy. You really know how to choose introduction topics to a friendship! James, I’m sorry I missed your birthday party but I’m glad that I was able to see one picture of money in your underpants Jeff! I just met you Saturday but seriously, that whole “kicking dirt” move isn’t going to get you any ladies Hey Mark, let’s try and keep our pants on for at least f ive minutes this time next time we go to a party where we don’t know anybody? Not everybody breaks the ice the way you do. SEND INYOUR BEST SHOUT OUT TO or upload them at


How Adderall Changed My Life

Marcus Bell wrote this

It’s exam week and I’m down to the last one. Only one problem, I haven’t been to the class in 4 weeks and I’ve got 12 hours to absorb 5 chapters of material. Luckily, there’s an answer. Thanks to the advancement of modern science accompanied by the booming pharmaceutical market, there’s a product that can crack a man out to the point where any amount of work is possible. What is this magical pill you ask? Adderall! Thanks to a massive case of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), I’m not only an expert, but also a client to this legal speed. Since my youth, my poor mother would go out of her way to keep me from spastically bouncing around the room so I could focus on my studies. Unaware of this plot against my attention span, I fell for the magic drug like a fiending hillbilly in a meth lab. Next thing I know I’m no longer the chubby kid in class, my sleep had reduced to just a few hours a week and my grades made a drastic U-turn for the better. Point is, it worked. This miracle drug is the greatest thing since satellite television (sliced bread seems like a low bar for success). One pill a day and one instantly becomes productive, resourceful, handsome (not that I need the help) and firmly interested in anything and everything. My body temperature rose three degrees, and my appetite was reduced to mere morsels of food each day, but that’s a small sacrifice for this classroom shortcut. High school was easy as hell, so the true benefit of an Adderall didn’t fully take effect until I moved on to college. And by damn I wasn’t the only one who had discovered the

power of this incredible amphetamine. Hell, it seemed like every person I passed was walking at a ridiculous tempo, staring at the ground, sucking the life out of a cigarette and gripping a venti coffee as if it were the source of everlasting life. After a while I came to realized that an entire generation had fallen for this performance enhancing chemical. Just as I had become reliant on the drug, an entire campus of students became reliant on a tiny pill to make good grades. In theory it makes sense. Take a pill and you immediately eliminate all distractions. Procrastination, grogginess and hell, even hunger won’t stand in your way of getting shit done. Just with every good thing in life, the bad usually isn’t far behind. And I promise you, allowing prescriptions of mild dosages of amphetamines is not an exception. For one, I find it nearly impossible to study without the scholarly crack. Why fight the battle of self-motivation when you can just geek out and eliminate anything but studying? Secondly, these study steroids can make you focus obsessively on the most menial nonsense. It is incredible easy to play Angry Birds for three hours on Adderall, so do yourself a favor and just retire the smartphone during study hours. But the number one problem with this so-called miracle drug is that no one knows what the long term effects are. In a sense we are a generation of guinea pigs, for all we know, we already have Alzheimer’s disease AND brain cancer. Sounds like a populationcontrol gimmick that the government conjured up against us to go along with AIDS and cigarettes. In the end, this drug goes with school like milk with cookies, and it’s not going anywhere. I, along with the rest of my Ole Miss peers, will continue to take advantage of Adderall and its many substitutes, at least until we get that diploma. It might cause anorexia, dry mouth, insomnia, headaches, abdominal or stomach pain, increase in blood pressure, emotional change, diarrhea, asthenia, and heartburn (to name a few). But it’s hard to care about these health effects when they don’t affect the GPA. I’m here trying to get a degree so I can live a successful life and die happy. Which will probably happen from heart failure roughly 30 minutes after walking across the stage in my cap and gown. Thanks Adderall!

Your sporting options around town paul wrote this It’s that time of year again. The weather is too cool to hang by the pool enjoying beer and tan, oiled sorority boobs popping out of bikinis, but it’s not so cold that you'd consider getting into a relationship, growing a beard and retreating into your bedroom for a winter of overeating, HBO original programming, and pale boobs not popping out of sorority sweatshirts. So what is a man to do with his time? Get outside and enjoy the gorgeous weather that this, God’s country, has provided you. Listen up gun-toting rednecks with mudding trucks that you swear have nothing to do with the size of your penis. If you get the itch to blast some shit with your shotgun and/or hit some mud in your F-150, make the 20 or so minute drive out to Sardis, where you’ll find 1000+ acres of public land which can be your own personal white trash paradise. For all you potheads on the other side of the spectrum, there’s a sport that was made by stoners for stoners. Disc golf is the name of the game and with 3 courses, Oxford is one hell of a place to play. You can go to the university course, which is overrun with freshman looking for a place to safely smoke a bowl, or you can try the 9-hole POS course at Avents Park. If you’re feeling adventurous, make the drive to Wall Doxey State Park for a course that disc slinging wookies swear by, but is honestly not good enough to justify the gas money that you’d rather spend on nugs. For the meathead frat boys who are stuck in their high school hero glory days there’s always intramural football. You boys can shoot some Evan Williams, get hopped up on nose candy and relive your past out at the intramural fields. If your fraternity gets lucky, or just makes the SNus wonder why they built that monstrosity of a house, you’ll get chosen for the Charity Bowl. You’ll get to pad up one last time and play in Vaught Hemmingway for a crowd of drunks who don’t really give a shit. Just be sure to hide the massive erections you’re sure to get from the idea of jumping onto a pile of sweaty men in tight pants. There’s another intramural league for you sober, “gonna save it till marriage,” former counselor types. If I’m not mistaken there’s a mass gathering every Wednesday at the intramural fields where you people play ultimate and share your favorite good

deed of the week. Just be sure to avoid the rugby players, homophobic roid-heads and their worst fear, closet cases posing as homophobic roid-heads. My personal favorite outdoor activity is perfect for all the upperclassmen who are in denial about their booze lust cultivated from years of binge drinking. I’m talking about the gentlemen’s game of golf. Fill that random unused pocket in your golf bag with as much beer as it’ll hold and head out to the course. Few things are more fun than being hammered by the time you reach the turn and knowing that you can’t get a DUI on a golf cart (right?). Your game will steadily improve as you drink, but then go completely to shit as you lose total control of your motor skills after averaging a beer a hole through 14. No matter which is your sport of choice, you should get out there, do it up (bible thumpers excluded), and enjoy the fact that Oxford is blessed with the best fall weather imaginable.



Don’t be That Guy/That Girl: get ready for Greek Swaps James Foster wrote this

You know who you are. The guy who stands up and pees on the bar while attempting to chug a pitcher of PBR in front of a crowd of drunkards whose attire could collectively fill a Good Will. The girl who throws up on the floor of the bar, incapable of refusing the opportunity to partake in one more lemon drop or Alabama Slammer. The guy who fails to comprehend the rules of the sorority buses, slithering his way through a window and passing out in a sea of his own Rumplemintz and bourbon throw up. That guy or girl might view these stories as speed bumps in an otherwise fluid and electrifying party adventure. Some may embrace these stories, adding them to a long list of accomplishments on their social resume. Well I have great news, That Guy and That Girl—It’s Swap Season. A swap is an opportunity for fraternity and sorority members to mix together, combining brotherhood, sisterhood, and low-to-heavy drinking. Most importantly, these “swaps” give frat stars the opportunity to shine, and (with the help of themes like “Kiddies and Creepers”) they give hot girls the opportunity to reveal their “inner skank.” Monday? Wednesday? It doesn’t matter. During Swap Season there are no days of the week. No excuses of studying for a test or finishing a last minute Hawks assignment. Missing a swap is like missing the Super Bowl—if you don’t participate in the all night, costumed bender, then you are, quite frankly, lame. This is not my opinion. This is purely a well-known fact among all Greek members. It is this mindset that attracts That Guy and That Girl to these swaps. They are no longer the lone ranger, pleading

for others to chug their drink or educating newcomers on the meticulous steps of taking a tequila shot. They finally feel a part of something — pioneers in a room full of wannabees. They still thrive to shine, utilizing home court advantage by high-fiving bartenders and ordering intricate shots, all the while somehow managing to DJ the party. That Guy or That Girl does not fear the competition; instead, he or she seeks every opportunity to outdo the crowd of Mudbloods. For a true frat star or sorostitute, swaps rely solely on one thing: preparation. Upon the release of the swap schedule, these overachievers embark on a quest in search for costumes ranging from cow suits and face paint to all of the equipment necessary for the infamous “Waldo” costume. Again, those who simply throw on a jersey, or even worse, fail to dress up at all are regarded as dispensable douche bags. Johnny Tsunami said it best: go big or go home. Further, That Guy or That Girl usually loves to host the pregame before the swaps. This is not just a chance to show off the slam pad, but more so an invitation for the “best dressed” freshman to reside in a bed free from checkout times and fire alarms. Regardless, That Guy or That Girl, along with their knowledgeable fleet of followers, all achieve their collective goal (hopefully not in the J.D. Williams library or in front of Kincannon). This is all thanks to the Ole Miss Greek’s flawless system of swapping. So from one frat star to another, take advantage of these invaluable opportunities. But please, for the sake of us all, refrain from being That Guy or That Girl.

"During Swap Season there are no days of the week. No excuses of studying for a test or finishing a last minute Hawks assignment."



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Nicktoon of the Month: hey Arnold!

monty miller wrote this

Welcome back to our continuing series on the Nicktoons of the 90s. We try to analyze these classic cartoons from the more educated and informed viewpoint that has come with age. We’re still really immature though, so mostly we’ll talking about all the hidden fetish jokes that Nickelodeon slipped in right under our noses. This week’s toon: Hey Arnold! This is one I’ve been waiting on since I started this Nicktoons series. I’m simply obsessed with Hey Arnold! Because of this obsession, this entry in our 90’s nostalgia journey will be a little different than the previous two. When watching Rugrats or Rocko’s Modern Life from a much older perspective, it’s almost impossible not to pay attention strictly to the sexual innuendo and penis-related one-liners that fill the show and completely ignore anything else. This is not the case with Hey Arnold! It is actually the most wholesome of all the Nicktoons, and very possibly the greatest cartoon Nickelodeon has ever and will ever produce. Let’s jump right in. There is one huge characteristic of the show that really makes it stand out from the other Nicktoons: the setting. Arnold’s home is located in Hillwood, a big-city doppelganger for New York or Portland. Placing of the show in an urban environment has a huge effect on the overall feeling of the show, from the plots to the personalities of the characters. Everyone can remember Arnold, our football-headed protagonist, and Gerald, his street-smart best friend. You’ll never be able to erase Helga G. Pataki, poster child for future stalkers, yelling Arnold’s name during the show’s theme song, and you can picture both of Arnold’s grandparents in their somewhat creepy, yet always hilarious senility no matter how long it’s been since you last watched the show. However, the hidden strength of the show’s setting comes from its collection of minor characters, ranging from crazy and weird to crazier and weirder, just like the people you will see when walking down a New York City street. I know you’re listing all of your favorites in your head right now, so I might as well list some of the best too: Harold: The fat bully who eventually shows his soft side through adopting a kitten and having a Bar Mitzvah. Rhonda: She’s the rich girl in town whose father loses his job and becomes poor, but who probably deserved it because anyone who is rich in a cartoon is automatically evil. Or, in simpler terms, a Republican.

Stinky: Probably the city’s only redneck. The easiest way to describe Stinky is to take the nicest Mississippi State fan you know, and then add 100 IQ points. Sid: A conspiracy theory nut and British Invasion fanatic (he refers to one pair shoes as his “Beatle Boots”). However, he is probably more remembered for a having a popsicle stick for a nose. Eugene: The cast’s token redhead and sissy-in-residence. If Eugene were around today, he would probably watch a lot of Kardashian–related television and have a Tim Gunn poster above his bed. Your imagination can take it from there. Curly: A psychopath. Literally, this kid was actually deemed insane on a medical level. Stoop Kid: If I have to tell you who Stoop Kid is, you need to reevaluate your childhood. There are plenty more here that I’ve failed to mention, a group that probably includes your personal favorite. Feel free to tweet to @BlackSheep_OM to bitch about which ones I missed, and if this article has gotten you feeling nostalgic, every episode of Hey Arnold! is on Netflix Instant. Next Issue: Rocket Power

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Major? Business Marketing Status? Single Hometown? Memphis, TN Nickname? Dumpling Sex position? Depends on what the location allows us to perform. Favorite shot to make? Purple Headed Yogurt Slinger What is your favorite liquor to drink straight? Patron Favorite pickup line that shouldn’t of worked? “Sorry if I come across wrong, I just have a hard time expressing myself when I’m about to explode in my pants.” In a horror movie, who would you be sleeping with when you are murdered? Erin Andrews

drinking game:

Drinking Jeopardy!

Alex Trebek has a voice that could charm the panties off of a nun, and his dulcet tones really help boys and girls across the nation learn what the capital of Madagascar is. Does that mean this game will help you get drunk? No. Is it fun? What is, “Yes,” Alex. What You Need: A case of beer, a hi-def TV to see the glint in Trebek’s eye, smartz. Number of Players: At least 2, more is more better, though. Intoxication Level: I’ll take, “Shithouse Drunk” for $800, Alex. How to Play: -Before the game begins, make sure each player has several beers in front of them. -Players may only guess an answer once per question. -A player’s answer does not have to be phrased in the form of a question. -Players must drink when: -Any opponent answers a question correctly. -The player incorrectly answers the question. -Players do not have to drink when: -The player answers the question correctly. -No player answers the question correctly. -Scoring is similar to a standard Jeopardy! game. If a player has to drink, they must drink the first number in the 3-digit score. For example, a player who has to drink on a $400 question must drink four drinks. Drinking on a $1000 question would be ten drinks. -There is no special scoring for the Daily Double, just use the value assigned to the question. -The Final Jeopardy question is worth 10 drinks. The Game Ends When: Your DVR runs out of recorded episodes.

thirsty for more?


Future Aspirations? Find a sugar momma and be a stay-at-home dad. What’s your theme song? Wiz Khalifa- “No Sleep” Kill, Hitch, Bang: Lindsey Lohan, Snooki, Kim Kardashian Kill: Snooki, Hitch: Kim Kardashian, Bang: Lindsey Lohan Craziest place you’ve woken up? In some bushes off South Lamar. What super power would you like to have? Teleporting so I could go anywhere I wanted, when I wanted. What would you do if you had a time machine? I would go back and pick the winning lottery numbers. What is your pet peeve? People that don’t tip worth shit.



h t 4 1 Minute!

Leonardo DiCaprio is world-famous for acting in some of the best films of the last decade. Hillary Clinton is famous because she’s the most powerful woman in the world. A small Senegalese child knows LeBron James because he can jump out of a building in a single bound. But what about the rest? In this era of celebrity culture there’s too many people famous for…what exactly? To see if we could pin these pretenders we looked at celebrity gossip websites to find people we couldn’t identify, then we tried to identify what made them worthy of the limelight. By: Brendan


Kim Delaney We Think She’s Famous For: Being T-Mobile’s ad spokeswoman when flip phones were still the cat’s pajamas, as folk were wont to say in 1996. Why She’s Actually Famous: This actress has been on a bunch of relatively popular TV shows, like Army Wives, The O.C. and N.Y.P.D. Blue. Recently, though, she made headlines for giving a speech in front of a bunch of military folk…drunk. Where She’ll Be In Five Years: A wonderful land called Denial, where your third and fourth stints in alcohol rehab mean you get comp’ed your fifth check-in.

Joe Manganiello We Think He’s Famous For: Being a club promoter in Scottsdale, Arizona. There’s rumored to be pictures of him snorting coke off of Lindsey Lohan’s tits. Why He’s Actually Famous: Joe plays werewolf Alcide Herveaux on HBO’s True Blood, because being tall, ripped and handsome is a prerequisite for being a werewolf. Nerds have nothing to worry about. Where He’ll Be In Five Years: He’ll be starring opposite Bradley Cooper in a summer bromance movie called Hairy Waves.

Brenda Song We Think She’s Famous For: Song is the Rebecca Black of Thailand, where her hit, “Only 20 Hours of Work Today!” propelled her to superstardom. Why She’s Actually Famous: Being a huge hit on the Disney Channel, most notably as London Tipton on The Suite Life of Zack & Cody. Where She’ll Be In Five Years: In a bathtub full of money, laughing and sipping champagne while screaming out, “Sweatshop profiteering is the best!”

Michaele Salahi We Think She’s Famous For: A early-90s criminal case that saw her spend 12 years in jail after sleeping with one of her 14-year-old students. Basically, she looks like a hot teacher. Why She’s Actually Famous: Besides having an impossible-to-spell name, Salahi is best known for her role on The Real Housewives of D.C. In 2009 she made waves for crashing a White House party, and made headlines a few weeks ago by leaving her husband for Neal Schon, the guitarist for Journey. Where She’ll Be In Five Years: Back in her plastic surgeon’s office, getting an estimate on how much it would cost to give her facelift a facelift.

Austin Butler We Think He’s Famous For: Being exactly what the Nazis had in mind when they started their eugenics program. Why He’s Actually Famous: Butler is known for his work in Ned's Declassified School Survival Guide and High School Musical spinoff Sharpay’s Fabulous Adventure. Where He’ll Be In Five Years: On the secret Nazi moon base, preparing to exact revenge for the historically tragic death of his biological father, Adolf Hitler.

Imogen Thomas We Think She’s Famous For: By the looks of it, she’s a recent recipient of a MacArthur Genius Grant for the work she’s done in the field of advanced particle physics. Why She’s Actually Famous: Thomas is known for her 3-month stay on British reality show Big Brother, and her two big sisters. By “sisters” we mean “tits.” Where She’ll Be In Five Years: Thomas will be the Queen of the Island of Misfit Floozies, which is actually a couple miles off of the southern tip of Florida.



Das Racist

the interview

Don’t worry guys, we didn’t interview the entity that is racism. Das Racist is a trio of multiethnic dudes from Brooklyn whose unconventional style has landed them on multiple “best of” lists and on the stages of dozens of high-profile music festivals. Their latest album Relax just dropped and they’re coming to a city near you...soon. We chatted with them about live performances, growing up, and ideal fast food combinations. TBS: You guys have a very energetic live show. Offstage are you guys pretty animated, or are you pretty mellow? Das Racist: Yeah, more than like your average moron-like manner. To be honest, the way I think about it – which I never have before you asked me about it – I guess when we started doing shows we would be drunk or high a lot, so that kind of energy was from something we were doing offstage. Now it’s not quite the case. It’s just something that I’ve gotten used to doing and it’s kind of the only way I know how to do something up there. So we’re doing a rap show, we don’t really have a guitar and keyboard and whatever, so, I mean, what are we going to do? Then we’re getting completely bored on stage, you know, standing around on a small area for 45 minutes to an hour. Like, you can imagine if whatever room you’re in right now I locked the doors and like, you just have to hang out for an hour. You know, and most people need something to do, and we don’t want to be boring and be completely wasting everybody’s time.


TBS: You mentioned that you’d go on stage and be drunk or on some sort of drug. As you’ve taken this more seriously as a career, is that something that you’ve purposely toned down or are you just getting more mature? Das Racist: The way we started out, we’d sometimes do gigs for like $50 or it’d be for drink tickets. So when you’re doing a show for drink tickets, you’re obviously going to get drunk because they’re giving you drink tickets and no money. So I think being mature, maybe, I don’t know, that word kind of sounds ridiculous. It just got boring, you know what I mean? And also, if my job is to tour and I’m going to have to do five shows in a row while traveling and waking up at 6 in the morning, I can’t feasibly get fucked up every night because it wouldn’t fun anymore, it’d be impossible to wake up and not be in a terrible mood. Out Now be And it’s just boring: I’m like 26-years-old, what am I going to do, get fucked up in front of a bunch of 18, 19-year-old kids?


The Whole Love

the whole let down is more like it! It’s easy for us youngsters to hate on Wilco these days because they aren’t “trippy” anymore, and Jeff Tweedy is “sober” and therefore “uninspired.” Long gone are the days of my brain exploding (nearly the entire The Wilco Book album), vibing out to some weird static during “Less Than You Think,” and dissecting the lyrics of “Radio Cure” because it’s just so fucking good. Sure, Wilco’s best albums were Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and A Ghost is Born, but if you got mad at your boyfriend today because the last great thing he did for you was months ago, then everyone would just hate each other. Remember when he let you have all the hot water this morning? It’s the little things that count. Because I don’t want to harp on Tweedy for being sober; that’s just immature. What I can harp on, though, is Wilco back-tracking to their country roots in their latest album The Whole Love. This album just screams “NPR 40-something.” It’s safe and easy to listen to, with just enough badass hard rocking guitar solos (see “Art of Almost”) to give the old folks something to get excited about. It’s the kind of Wilco that got the fans in the first place, with definitive alternative-country sounds and a little bit of intrigue, not to mention Tweedy’s signature voice holding our hands the whole time. But Tweedy & the boys weren’t always weird and still had a more interesting sound - Summerteeth and Sky Blue Sky, for instance. With their latest and the one before that (Wilco (The Album)), Wilco is starting to seem… old. And



I don’t like it, because I’m not a 40-something, and I think that’s okay with them. “Dawned on Me” is one of the more brilliant songs on the record, where Tweedy openly sings about the whole spectrum of living; being young, being old, being lost, being found, and starting it all over again at the end. It kind of makes me sentimental but then I’m reminded that optimism makes growing up a little better, which just makes me more sad. I’m 20-fucking-something; I don’t want to listen to my father cry on about not having fun anymore. “Born Alone” has a somewhat catchy tune but it’s a little cheesy and it’s a little simple, perfect for the adults to digest. No, no, I think I’m going to leave the Wilco party, eh, 5 years ago. But I’m still going to love them, even if they aren’t blowing my mind anymore. It’d be like saying goodbye to a high school friend just because he doesn’t get black-out drunk anymore. He’s still a cool guy, but just a little more tame. Plus you can always go back and recall the fun times you guys had together. That, and he is always your sober driver. It’s the little things that count! Sounds Like: What your dad listens to in the minivan. Download: The Art of Almost Listen to it When: Drinking wine and playing Scrabble with the fam.


Blink - 182 Neighborhoods Chickenfoot - Chickenfoot III J. Cole - Cole World: The Sideline Story LeAnne Rimes - Lady & Gentlemen

VHS Or Beta - Diamonds & Death Feist - Metals Scott McCreery - Clear As Day Styles P - Master Of Ceremonies

TBS: You guys get a lot of critical acclaim, from MTV, Spin, Rolling Stone, etc. Do you guys consider that at all when you’re making musical decisions? Das Racist: It is appreciated, but, you know, it’s not like “Whoa! This staff writer at Spin likes something we made!” it’s more like “Whoa, a lot of people buy Spin at the airport who have never heard of us,” you know? I mean, it’s always nice to hear nice things, whatever, but it’s not like we’re so “Oh, we’re going do what we’re going to do regardless!” Like, what else am I going to read, something about some other guy? I’d rather read about myself. Yeah, I definitely keep up and shit, but it’s not that big of a deal. TBS: So you guys have Relax, your new album that just came out. How does a group like you guys go about constructing a song? Das Racist: Well, I mean, we’ll first kind of write in the studio, sometimes someone will have some verses or parts of verses worked out and they’ll bring those in. It’s not a completely collaborative process. If you’re listening to it, the two guys don’t even sound very much alike, they don’t rap very similarly. So, it’s collaborative in that they usually record in the same studio and they record together a lot of the time, but other than that it’s not like coming in together with two notepads on their lap and a guy playing a beat and they’re listening to the beat… but that actually does happen a little bit. (laughs) I think it’s kind of two different processes going on at the same time, rather than like peeking over another person’s shoulder and see what they’re doing. TBS: What would be on your perfect sandwich? Das Racist: I don’t even like sandwiches that much. Bacon, avocado, cheese, tomato? On some sourdough bread. TBS: You guys have an album called Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell. If you could combine any two fast food franchises, which would you choose? Das Racist: Maybe fuckin’ Panera Bread and Chipotle. Or In-N-Out Burger and Quiznos. TBS: Drink of choice? Das Racist: Water, and champagne.

brendan and jess wrote this

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Ole Miss - 9/28/11 - v01i03  

Ole Miss Issue 3

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