Vol. 3, Issue 10
The Black Sheep
F THE REE... KEN LIKE TUC JUM KY BAN PING O DW N AG O N.
3/27/14 - 4/2/14
THE COLLEGE NEWSPAPER THAT'S ACTUALLY ABOUT COLLEGE
THE THINGS WE HATE TO ADMIT WE MISS ABOUT K-LAIR MARY VENUTO WROTE THIS Oh K-Lair, the oily, adopted, unloved stepchild of the UK Dining experience. When you’re waiting in line at Ovid’s with everyone and their underage little, you always catch yourself reminiscing about the good ol’ days when you only had to wait five minutes for sub-par buffalo tenders and questionable onion rings. Sure, now we have the option to go to Chick-fil-A to get some decently fried chicken, but it’s just not the same. Almost a year after the demolition of K-Lair, those who remember the campus landmark now realize what they truly cherished about that nasty little grease hut. The Customer Service: Before you went back to your dorm for a little snooze between your 8 a.m. and 11 a.m. class, you’d stop by K-Lair for some French toast sticks. As you walked up to the register you’d be asked “Whatchu want?” by the cranky, middle aged woman who worked the cash register. It may not have been service with a smile, but it was service with a purpose and at least you didn’t have to make lousy, early morning small talk. Or maybe you remember the general manager always smiling wide and saying “Hi,” with
either an absent look in her eye or a murderous one. No other place on campus made you so uncomfortably comfortable. The Limp French Fries and Cold Cheese Sauce: Much like entering the basketball lottery, you never knew if you were going to score on a deal or not. Some days the fries and chicken tenders would be so fresh they’d burn right through the shitty Styrofoam to-go boxes. Other times your cheese sauce would be more like cheese paste. Sure, it was frustrating at 7 o’clock on a Friday when you ended up with old fries, but it just made those times when everything you wanted tasted delicious at 4 o’clock on a Tuesday, it made that meal much more special. The Sense of Community: Being located on central campus, K-Lair brought in students from north and south campus. There wasn’t really a “K-Lair-regular” type. You had your sorority girls who ordered the Kickin’ Chicken salad in an attempt to appear healthy, but then buried it under dollops of Cajun ranch dressing. You had your skinny, awkward, Pokè-nerds who tried to beef up by ordering
a triple cheeseburger and double fries. And then you had your average Joe, who would order a crispy chicken sandwich, plain, with two sides of chocolate pudding. There was a spot for everyone at K-Lair, at least until the limited seating ran out. Other “Healthy” Options: Whether it be that grilled chicken that you were in denial about sitting in stale, room temperature water for hours or the “freshly tossed” salads, K-Lair offered you a break from your regular at Ovid’s or Blazer. The salad window near the back often times gave the illusion that a deli sandwich with a side of fried pickles and raspberry yogurt was a “mom-approved” choice. Except that yogurt wasn’t low fat and that turkey sandwich had an extra goopy glop of mayonnaise. “The Maxwell Frisco Melt”: The hardest part of your day was deciding whether you wanted this to be a beef patty or a turkey patty. The Maxwell Frisco Melt was K-Lair’s saving grace. The bacon, cheese, meat in between two slices of sourdough bread made everything that was wrong with K-Lair seem right. If the Frisco Melt
wasn’t your favorite burger of the day then maybe it was Monday’s Keeneland Burger or Wednesday’s Kirwin Burger. It doesn’t matter which burger of the day stole your heart, all that matters is that the love still lives on.
For all the freshmen this year who know Intermezzo, Panda Express, and Subway as places that accept meal swipes, just know you will never have our oh-so-super-special-upperclassman respect. You’ll never know the kind of apathy we
felt when we thought “Ovid’s is too crowded and Commons is too smelly, so K-Lair it is!” Go ahead and enjoy your Chik-n-Minis while we enjoy the memory of true college kid dining.
A CHICK’S GUIDE TO BASEBALL BASICS
TOP 10: PROFESSORS YOU MEET IN UNDERGRAD
TACO BELL MENU FLOPS: PAST AND PRESENT
IT’S MORE THAN JUST DRINKING BEER AND WATCHING HOT GUYS?
PROCEED WITH CAUTION, STUDENTS.
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A LETTER FROM
COACH RICK PITINO RICK PI-FUCKIN’-TINO WROTE THIS Hey you Kentucky pieces of shit, It’s me, your worst nightmare. Never thought we’d run into each other in the NCAA Tournament, but guess what? We fuckin’ did, and now me and the Cards are gearin’ up to end your hopes and dreams not unlike every summer when I end the hopes and dreams of baby orcas in the Aleutian Islands for fun and profit. You slimy, good for nothin’ Wildcats got another thing comin’ if you think your ragtag gang of freshmen can come slam-dunkin’ your way past the greatest basketball team ever known in Kentucky next to my 2009 Ricky P’s Toyotas and More rec league team. Yeah, I do own a used car lot, what are you gunna fuckin’ do about it? I sold more Toyota Rav 4s in 2012 than Andrew Harrison’s mom. Does Andrew Harrison’s mom sell used cars? Shit if I care! Alls I know is when I recruited those zygote freaks of nature they already had Coach Cal’s chubby little fist wrapped around their cocks like a female orca trying to save her cub from my 80ft steelreinforced netting. Your team may have youth, quickness, and a level of
athleticism overlooked and unmatched by the college basketball community, but don’t think ol’ Ricky P. didn’t see that coming. I have my ways. Ask Scott Grossinger of Grossinger Toyota of Louisville, he thought he had the market down pat. He had young, good-looking sales representatives and a lot full of Jap cars that weren’t jimmy-rigged with lawnmower engines. But guess what happened? Let’s just say Scott Grossinger’s family found out what it’s like to get caught in a net 80ft below sea level before being chopped up and sold to Sea World. I killed his family, that’s right. Forgot I’m talking to a bunch dull, good-for-nothin’ Kentucky students. Now, I’m not saying the only way I can win on Thursday is to chop up and murder your basketball team. That’s hardly the case. But why take my chances on the court when I can lure Coach Cal to the Indianapolis steak house he “loves to visit every March” – that sneering bastard — and make him a little too queasy to rally the troops? Scott Grossinger didn’t even sell a single Rav 4 before I invited him to Sea World to watch his family be eaten by orcas, and I don’t plan on letting your fresh-faced litter of freshmen step foot on the basketball court before I drop a little Ex-Lax into their
Gatorade. I know my Cardinals can beat you, but why risk it is all I’m sayin’. And with that, my sweaty, inbred, spicy-beef-wrapeating neighbors, I bid you adieu. Don’t think for a second warning the NCAA about my plans will keep me from sabotaging your team. They take away my Ex-Lax? I’ll have Kevin Ware stomp on Andrew Harrison’s shitty elbow. They prevent me from stepping on the court
after reading this? Fine, I’ll eat as much of Mrs. Pitino’s red bean salad as I possible can, then sneak into your locker room and drop long, skinny trails of red bean shits all over your gear. Nothing can stop Ricky P from getting his way. NOTHING! See you bitches in Indianapolis, Rick “Big Dick” Pitino
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A CHICK’S GUIDE TO BASEBALL BASICS TBS STAFF WROTE THIS
Lexington it’s almost time to get out your baseball caps and wieners! Ladies, if your boyfriend is an American (which, just duh) he’s just as pumped for opening day as the night you let him eat Cheetos during sex. But if you’re like most women, you don’t know shit about baseball other than it includes smoking-hot dudes in tight pants and home plate, which for once, isn’t your vag. But The Black Sheep has got your back ladies, and we’ll help you to prepare for the tons of ‘girlfriend/ boyfriend time’ called baseball. And we’ll learn you a little something about America’s favorite pastime. Clear Your Schedule: First off, baseball is going to consume a lot more time than you’d expect. You’re going to hear random numbers, many numbers. Those numbers are called statistics and they’re not important to you. Forget about them. Those numbers have no impact on your life. We don’t want you worrying your pretty little head over a player’s RBI. Enjoy the Eye Candy: Listen up, the professional players your boyfriend will continuously talk about will, in fact, be waaaaay hotter than your actual boyfriend. Your boyfriend will never be as hot as the physical player who plays in games, catches balls, looks tan. We can promise you that. If anything’s going to get you through baseball season, it’s thinking about all the hot professional players. Imagine them while your boyfriend porks you. By now, hopefully you’ve realized the true purpose of professional baseball: To give you something to hope for while you screw. If you had any sense at all, you’d demand that your boyfriend bring you to his baseball game man-dates.
Ball Park Etiquette: You broke down your guy friends and now you’re at the game, so now what? Really, NOW WHAT? If you’re a real Wildcat girl, you’ll sneak a pint of vodka into the cargo pocket of your friend’s shorts, because that’s what cargo pocets are made for. Once you and the guys are sick of the park, just crack open that pint and get ready to be drunk for the next three hours. Yeah dudettes, news flash: BASEBALL HAS NO PREDICTBLE TIME FRAME. If you’re a heavy drinker then jump on that moonshine because it’s going to be a long-ass day. Don’t Try to Learn the Game: We recommend not asking questions, just talk about how attractive the players are. Also, it’s a great idea to bombard your guy friends with selfies. Just take as many selfies as possible. They’ll love it. Make sure to snap one while you’re shoving a massive hot dog in your mouth, too. It’s cute, and really, it represents how chicks understand America’s pastime. Don’t Speak Baseballese: We can’t stress this enough: Don’t write checks you can’t cash, chicks. If you don’t know the stats, then just don’t say any number you read on the bathroom wall. If you don’t know any players, don’t say the names of baseball icons who played years ago. You’re going look stupid spouting, “Mark McGuire, Jackie Robinson, Barry Bonds,” and if you happen to mention Sammy Sosa, then F-you. Just, F-you. They don’t play anymore! Also this isn’t a good time to bring up plot themes of Moneyball, or how you admire the game because of The Jackie Robinson Story. Ultimately, just do what you did during football season, stay quiet and root for the appropriate team. Or, for the surefire thing, cheer when you see everyone else cheering. Trust us, you’ll be okay. Booze always helps. But shit, when doesn’t it?
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ON THE STREETS IF YOU HAD TO NAME A LIQUOR AFTER YOURSELF WHAT WOULD IT BE CALLED? Evan, Junior
“Evan Sullivan Bourbon Whiskey”
“It would be a vodka called The Legendary Greek”
“I would call it candy, since I’m @ThaCandyLady. “
PROFESSORS YOU MEET IN UNDERGRAD TAYLOR CARDEN WROTE THIS
Over the course of your four years at UK, you will meet a wide array of different types of professors. But we narrowed it down to ten, because pigeonholing and making hasty generalizations is fun. 10.) The Neo-Feminist: Before each class she reminds you that men only exist right now because womenonly reproduction isn’t mainstream yet. Her double-D breasts run wild and free since she refuses to wear a bra during lectures, forcing you to keep your eyes on the board and away from the glaring disturbance of her renegade nipples. 9.) The Rockstar: He’s the guy who packs a 300-seat lecture hall with ease. Sorority girls flock to his silver fox-ian loins like UK fans to State Street after a win. If you want to pass his class, get ready to spend some “private” time in his office.
MARCH SADNESS, LOSERS LUKE TROXELL WROTE THIS March Madness is upon us, and most of us at UK are more hyped for the NCAA Tournament than sorority girls on “Wear yoga pants and get a free latte at Starbucks Day.” However, there are a few groups around campus who won’t be so giddy about the springtime mayhem, The Black Sheep decided to take a closer look at them.
8.) The 21st Century Hippie: He rides his bike to campus every day, leisurely peddling in his Fivefingers shoes smelling of day-old pot. He’ll habitually announce that your homework is to “connect with one another, man, and explore your boundaries.” 7.) The Emotional Hot Mess: She’s going through a messy divorce and spends class telling you about it. You know too much about her parakeet, Sir Reginald Beakypeck and her ex-husband’s mistress Jessica. The good thing you can show a minor interest in her problems to get on her good side, and thus pass the class with minimal effort. 6.) The Droner: Lectures are long enough, but this professor has no regard for your time. While you’re itching to get out of your desk and into a liquor store, he’s still lecturing after class ended 40 minutes ago. You could set off a bomb and he would still feel the need to finish up his point. 5.) The “Cool Guy”: His focus is on being your buddy! Your pal! He’s “hip” and “styling,” broski! He knows all about what the cool college kiddos are into these days, and he’s either showing you the Youtube videos his kids show him or chiming in on your pre-class conversations. This professor is notorious for his long office hours where you’re welcome to stop by any time to “just hang” or drink from his minibar. 4.) The TA You Just Can’t Understand: He makes a great effort, but it’s impossible to learn stats from someone who can’t pronounce the word “logarithm.” You think he may have asked a question. Or made a joke? Or insulted your mother? Hell if you know, just nod and smile along with the rest of the class.
Louisville Fans Who for Some Reason go to UK: You ever see that dude wearing a “Cut the Net” Louisville t-shirt, sporting a shitty line beard, throwing up a “L” with his thumb and index finger, and wonder what in the hell are you doing here? Of course we don’t blame them, we’d run from that shit-hole town faster than Rick Pitino can deny sexual allegations. There’s no doubt that those less fortunate dirty bird lovers will not be as hype as the BBN this March, especially once they see who they’re matched up against. Oh that’s right. Us. Yeah, the bird’s excitement really hit the wall when UK beat up the #1 seed Wichita State.
3.) The Dictator: This professor has rules, and you’re going to follow them. Late to class? Unacceptable. Use one comma too many in your paper? Failing grade. Did you sneeze in the middle of lecture? Ejected from class. You better watch your ass, or it’s bound to end up on the sidewalk before you can say “Heil.”
Bike Cops: If your job description includes something about terrorizing college kids like those creepy flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz, then we’re just going to assume your soul shriveled up a long time ago. UK bike cops hold a special hatred in their hearts for March Madness . In spring alone, the veteran of the staff will pedal more miles than Lance Armstrong ever did with both balls. He’s survived multiple State St. frenzies, but no bike cop wants a UK win in March. A UK win in March means glass shards to the face from crazed, bottle-throwing fans and fire engulfed couches.
1.) The Conspiracy Theorist: This professor is convinced he’s on the brink of discovering the coordinates of the Illuminati headquarters. He reminds you to wear aluminum foil hats when you go to sleep so the aliens don’t hear your thoughts, and that the government is the reason Blackboard wouldn’t let you upload your midterm paper.
Billy Clyde Gillispie: While our Big Blue Savior, Coach Cal, chases down his 3rd Final Four in 4 season, our former headman chases down his 3rd Four Loko of the evening with a shot of Jack, while yelling at his wife, and locking some 19-year-old kid who really didn’t deserve any punishment in his bathroom closet. It’s gotta be somewhat antagonizing to Billy Clyde — Coach Cal has essentially revamped the cesspool he was left with into the gold standard of college hoops. The UK Women’s Hoops Team: Out of both basketball teams housed here at UK, the team coached by Matthew Mitchell plays harder, better, faster, stronger, and you know, like an actual basketball team than the men’s team did during the regular season. That being said, more attention is paid in endorsements than on the actual endeavors they’ve accomplished. This March, these ladies won’t be glued to the TV watching every move Julius Randle makes, but rather playing their tits off on their own march through the madness as they attempt to cut down the nets and over shadow the men’s team. March Madness will produce memories for all Big Blue worshipping fanatics, memories that usually end up being more tear-filled than when the Tex-Arkana School for Deaf Rodeo Clowns suffered that terrible plan crash in 2009. But, no matter what happens this week, know that you have plenty of fellow Kentuckians to commiserate with once the season is over.
2.) The Germaphobe: His desk is littered with half-empty hand sanitizer bottles, and all of his teaching tools are rubbed with Clorox wipes before class begins. If you’re going to turn in a paper, he requires that it’s placed in a sterile, airtight baggie.
Tread carefully when in the presence of these 10 professors. And remember, if one directly approaches you, lie down and play dead.
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Taco Bell Menu Flops: Past and Present dan mirabelli wrote this Over the decades, Taco Bell has been known for introducing many ambitious products, and while some reached great success and satiated many a stoner, their risky menu items haven’t always been hits. In honor of the release of the new Taco Bell Breakfast Menu on March 27th, The Black Sheep looks back on failed Taco Bell menu items.
THE FIRST MEAL As Taco Bell’s most recent attempt at breakfast, the fast food chain had to cook up some truly exciting items to stand out in the crowd and overshadow their past failures. With items like the Waffle Taco and the A.M. Crunchwrap, Taco Bell has already drummed up excitement among its fan base. But will they conquer the masses, or will they join the long line of discontinued tortilla-wrapped trash?
THE WAFFLE TACO
The Waffle Taco is exactly what it sounds like, but its most controversial feature is that it is doused in maple syrup. Waffles are not exactly known for being syrup retardant, and within minutes this seemingly glorious creation will be a soggy and sticky mess. We predict that many a customer will order this item to go, only to cover their steering wheel in syrup and ruin their shirt before they even make it to work. Mondays, right Garfield?
Preliminary nutrition reports show that the A.M. Crunchwrap will contain 1250 milligrams of sodium, over half the recommended amount per day for adults under 51. That’s right, you can knock out half your sodium intake for the day for less than $3 before 7 a.m., now that is efficiency at its finest.
Taco Bell Menu Flops: Past and Present
THE FIRST TRY AT BREAKFAST
While many fan reacted to news of a new Taco Bell breakfast menu with enthusiasm and anticipation, most do not know that Taco Bell made a previous attempt in the past to launch a successful breakfast menu. In the 1990s, Taco Bell asked their patrons to “Make a Run for The Border for Breakfast,” however the menu mostly left people making a run for the bathroom. The menu included items like the Double Bacon Egg Burrito and tater-tot-esque potato chunks. Fans of the breakfast menu described the eggs as “Pretty darn good, you can barely tell that they’re instant!”
TACO BELL FRIES
Yes that’s right, fries… from Taco Bell. Intriguing, yes. Tasty, hell no. Taking a page from their popular Nacho Supreme menu item, some dingbat in upper management decided that making Fries Supreme was a good idea in the late 1990s. And in a result that came out of left field, the fries were not a hit. Apparently people don’t enjoy having their crummy fries covered in ground beef and sour cream, who could’ve guessed?
THE BELL BEEFER
In the mid-1980s before Taco Bell thought outside the bun, they had an item that had a bun. For some reason Taco Bell executives decided that simply adhering to “Mexican” food was holding the restaurant back from its true potential, so the Bell Beefer was introduced. Consisting of a more-than-healthy serving of taco meat, shredded cheese, lettuce, and chunks of tomato, Taco Bell burst onto the burger scene. However, the Bell Beefer was essentially a shitty sloppy joe. Being so sloppy, it ruined one too many pairs of parachute pants before it was discontinued.
Another venture that Taco Bell took in the mid 1980s was the ill-fated Seafood Salad. Created to oppose the Filet-OFish, the Seafood Salad included black olives, lettuce, tomato, bay shrimp, white fish, and snow crab. Unfortunately these ingredients tasted far from fresh, and the refrigeration techniques in the 1980s weren’t up to snuff. Due to this and multiple near-lethal food poisoning occurrences, Taco Bell was forced to pull the Seafood Salad from their menu.
If this list has taught you anything, it is to “enjoy” Taco Bell’s menu items as much as you can, because you can never know when your favorite fart-inducing pile of horsemeat will be discontinued. So get to your closest Taco Bell and suck down some ground bacon and instant eggs before they’re gone. But remember to download the new level of that iPhone game you play, because you’ll be spending some extra time on the crapper. And don’t forget to bring a net so you can fish your colon out of the toilet bowl when you’re finished.
BREAKFAST BURRITO AND A.M. GRILLED TACO
Because you can’t have only four items on a menu and odd numbers are the cat’s pajama’s, Taco Bell decided to make one item and pretend that it was two different ones. Boasting eggs, bacon, and cheese, these items are exactly the same except for one key difference. One is a cylindrical, and the other is a semi-circle. This exact item was on the first attempt at breakfast, but the second time’s the charm.
Back in 1995, the head honchos at Taco Bell realized that the taco empire was missing a key ingredient from its Mexican cuisine: Bacon. In order to fill the glaring hole in their lineup, a bacon-centric sub-menu was released that incorporated bacon into 3 menu items. However Taco Bell was ahead of it’s time, and the bacon craze had not entered full swing. For this reason, and the small detail that the “bacon” tasted like awful ham, the Sizzlin’ Bacon Menu didn’t last very long.
BLT TACO: Consisting of bacon, lettuce, tomato, club sauce, and cheddar cheese, the BLT Taco perfectly followed the classic recipe of the BLT. Unfortunately it was unable to attain the success and glory of its namesake, because what type of person walks into a Taco Bell and thinks to themselves “Huh, screw those MexiMelts, I came here for a damn BLT. “ Not a single person on the planet is that stupid, so as quickly as the BLT Taco appeared on the scene, it disappeared.
BACON CHEESEBURGER BURRITO: Unlike the Bell Beefer, this menu item attempted to put the burger into the burrito. But once again, customers realized that instead of eating a bizarre cheeseburgerand-bacon concoction, they could go down the street and buy something better from a restaurant that actually makes their money from making burgers.
It is quite literally impossible to even try to make fun of these. They are going to be delicious, maybe even delightful, and you will surely eat far more than what is healthy for the average person. Actually, eating only one is probably not healthy for you, but what the hell. Sometimes you just gotta treat yourself.
CHICKEN CLUB BURRITO:
In addition to having bacon, this burrito had chicken, lettuce, tomato, and a ranch-like sauce. Why was this delicious-sounding burrito taken off the menu? Because it was atrocious. Chicken. From Taco Bell. In the 1990s. Wanna talk about salmonella? You’d have to wash out you mouth with Purell after every bite, but there’s one problem with that. Purell HADN’T EVEN BEEN INVENTED YET.
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THE BLACK SHEEP’S GUIDE TO POST-SPRING BREAK TAN LINES TAYLOR CARDEN WROTE THIS Welcome back, spring breakers! You’ve left the sun and sands of spring break’s glorious beach destinations, and now you have to face the bipolar Kentucky weather coupled with postspring break depression. At least you can cheer yourself up by cracking open a cold one and spotting all the terrible tan lines on campus. The Black Sheep has put together this official guide to the worst tan lines that follow spring break. The Hookup: You literally have an outline of another person’s body on yours. You got drunk, laid down in the sand, and began to make out with her on the beach in front of everyone like the classy guy you are. But hours later, your torso looks like a crime scene after they’ve outlined the victim’s body with white tape. Your only crime was a hot hookup, but you’re sentenced to a month of some chick’s hourglass figure burned into your skin.
The Croakie: You clearly went to Frat Lauderdale or PCB, and that thin little white line along the back of your neck will serve as a reminder for the next month. It’s like an Oreo cookie beneath your hairline: dark, white, dark. The good news is that you can cover this one up by just wearing your Croakies every day for the rest of the semester. Even if it’s snowing and the sun is nowhere to be seen, you’ll have your sunglasses draped around your neck like the frat star you are. The Sunglasses: So the sun was pretty bright every day and you felt the need to keep your Ray Bans on? Well, welcome back to Kentucky where the weather is about as reliable as your pre-season March Madness bracket (read: an effing mess). Those square white lines around your eyes let everyone know you were somewhere warm and sunny all week, but you’re going to look like a radioactive raccoon walking around
a cloudy campus. The Nudist: Every inch of you is sunburned. Every. Inch. The girl who sits behind you in accounting knows this for a fact after last night. You proudly own no tan lines, because the sun was never blocked from any region of your body. Everyone who shared a beach with you was subject to your body in its completeness, and now they all know that you have a tattoo of a wildcat riding a sloth dressed in a confederate uniform on your left butt cheek. Your rosy shade of dark pink lets campus know that you refused to wear anything all spring break, including sunblock.
everyone. Newsflash: no one thinks that’s a real thing.
The Hometown: You clearly didn’t go anywhere fun for spring break because you’re white like an albino creampuff left in a blizzard. Tan lines require an actual tan, so it’s hard to even categorize this as a “full body tan line,” which is what you keep telling
The Busted: Your girlfriend knew the moment you returned from spring break that you were flirting with other girls. How, you might ask? Not because of the dozens of photos on Facebook awaiting a guilty tag, or the text messages in your inbox. Nope.
You’re caught because you have the white outlines of the words “Alexa <3,”“Jenn,” and “Shandy xoxo” burned into your back. Clearly you let other girls near your shirtless body, and they clearly “helped” you apply your sunscreen by writing their names and numbers onto your skin. You will wear the memories of these girls on your
tanned — and newly single — body for the rest of the semester. You can’t outrun a bad tan line, because, well… it’s attached to you. Maybe next year you’ll be sober long enough to remember your sunblock, but in the meantime, campus gets to enjoy the parade of white stripes in awkward places.
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Relationship Status: Single Major: Equine Science
Favorite Drink: LIT Favorite Shot: ChataBall (Rumchata and Fireball) Disgusting Drink: Rocky Mountain Bear Fucker
What’s the least-used liquor behind your bar?: Bacon vodka, it sometimes gets used for Bloody Marys. Has anyone ever tried to pay for a drink with something other than money or sex?: Yes, people try to bribe all the time. Someone tried to pay with their phone number.
OF THE WEEK Ashlie of Two Keys
How long do you think you could spin in a circle behind the bar without
hitting something or someone?: Not longer than a minute. What’s your favorite rap line?: “My anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns hon!” Why shouldn’t we ask you to borrow some money?: Because it’s a stupid question, you shouldn’t come to the bar without being able to pay. Would you rather push a grandma down the stairs or shit all over the bed during sex?: Neither. I know you are, but what am I?: Confused. Why should people read The Black Sheep?: So they can learn all the bar specials from the bar grid.
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