YOU ARE DRUNK The Botetourt Squat The Blowout
Vol. 2, Issue 6
‘Is It News?
Botetourt Beat THE BEAT IS BACK
₰ North Korean economy shows signs of explosive growth after testing its latest atomic weapon.
April 27th, 2012
“I HATE BLOWOUTS”
₰ Titanic sequel confirmed, will be “zombie-related.” ₰ Crim Dell found to be 80% Crim, only 20% Dell. ₰ 7th Grade Sketch Comedy show delights, kills audience. ₰ OBD Repairs Kappa Sig pipe, reinstated minus dog. ₰ LIPS distribution makes many males, others uncomfortable, hot and sweaty. ₰ Student Assembly passes resolution to leave top button unbuttoned. ₰ Hilarious prank leaves one student dead in human dissection lab. ₰ Cold War Kids host proxy concert in Angola. ₰ Flat Hat staff burn campus center to the ground: “Headline: Campus Center Burns.” ₰ James Blair hops up out of bed, turns his swag on. ₰ JT’s date confirmed to be a gigantic raisin that has been growing for over 200 years underneath Swem.
The precise phenomenon that has this campus flustered-to-hell
BY TOM BOMBADIL BLOWOUT BLOWHARD
The Last Day of Classes is upon us, and the College has done everything in ₰ Sophomore upset that he missed Eurotrashed for the its power to prevent anyone from besecond year in a row. ing drunk this year. The administration ₰ Botetourt Squat staff writer Jack Crum receives Pu- decided to address the “elephant in the litzer Prize for “abstaining from writing any articles.” room” in an email to the student body issued this past Tuesday. ₰ Fauquier girls try harder, staff writer finds. Dr. Ambler reminds you to celebrate Blowout in a “safe and legal” manner. ₰ Sadler Center rated Zagat’s Best Burgers. Your professors expect you to be sober ₰ Fencing party likely at 410 Harriet Tubman Dr. during class, apparently. After we ema-
ied over seventy professors, one replied that he expected “those damned hooligans to be ‘Gucci’ on Friday.” The absurdity of Blowout is iconic, and sensible professors expect nothing from students on this day. On this day, 300 years ago, our forefathers here at the College knocked back some cold ones with their professors to unwind before exams. In fact, despite recent efforts of administrators to clamp down on Blowout activities, the celebrations are relatively tame compared to those expe-
rienced in the nineteenth century. Most students got so “waterboarded” that they could not attend their exams. This practice was widely known as “Tylering” because it was made famous by John Tyler, W&M alumnus and shitty president. Historical juxtaposition aside, the events of this Blowout are expected to be fucking ridiculous. At least fifteen separate parties are scheduled. Typically, on a Friday evening, no more than ten parties are allowed on campus by the Pan-Hellenic Council. “People are usually a bit too tired on Fridays, so we like to limit the amount of parties so that freshmen girls don’t get turned off by barren dance floors and Unit bathrooms,” said Garrett White ’13 ΣΧ, “But Blowout is huge, so we’re going to sanction five more parties. We have an arrangement with the W&M Police to have them bust a couple lame ones.” The Resident Assistant Council of Undergraduate Supervision (RACUS) issued its annual “shot across the bow” to graduating seniors. In an email to all students with previous disciplinary records (who are fundamentally more untrustworthy individuals and therefore more likely to be repeat offenders because they were never actually rehabilitated but actually made more CONTINUED PAGE 5
Guinness World Record breaking spooning attempt leaves three tragically dead BY SECRETARIAT
SADLY NOT AMONG THE DEAD
The campus is once more in state of mourning after Friday’s record breaking spooning attempt left three students dead. It was a bright sunny day with just enough of a cross wind to make students really want to snuggle up and be a part of something larger than themselves. Leave it to William and Mary to have a compulsion to excel even at things that are meant to be relaxing. If you can’t say you were the best at it on resume, what’s the point of doing it all? But I digress. The school will never forget the smiling faces of Freshman Jake Dongschlong, Junior Emma Na, and that one kid who always tried to pull off a fedora like he was Humphrey Bogart. I think he was a senior, or maybe a freshman. The setting was surreal. The sun was too bright, the atmosphere too cheery, and the snuggles too comforting to have a some-
thing so horrible happen. Yet it did. Shortly after the record had been reached and the initial cries of revelry and cheer died down a lone shriek pierced the celebratory air. Three bodies, stiff as boards and turning blue like my dick and balls on a Friday night, still laid on the floor. The EMTs standing by rushed to their sides, but were already hours too late. Autopsy would later reveal that Jake had died from suffocation while being smashed between Emma and... Derrick? I think. It’s either Derrick or VonJon van Dundertaug. Anyways, Emma and Derrick died of cooties after failing to receive their cootie shots before the event. Event coordinators are coming under heavy fire from the school’s administration about how three deaths were allowed to happen. “We had EMTs on scene. Volunteers were monitoring the line to make sure no one was suffering from dangerous levels of blue balls. Honestly, we thought blood loss from prolonged, un-attended
stiffies was our only danger. How could we have been so blind?” bemoaned event coordinator and general social climber Edward Hockingstein, continuing, “It’s truly tragic that three students died. I mean, do you know how bad that looks for me? I want to run for Williamsburg Town Council someday, and you know this is going to come up on the campaign trail.” Less of a douchebag but still pretty bland human being and event co-coordinator Ashley Thomas had this to say, “We requested everyone get a cootie shot before coming to the event. The fact that Ashley and Richard didn’t is regrettable, but shows negligence on their part, not ours.” So evidently his name was Richard. I’d go back and change it, but it’s all the way up there and my cursor is now all the way down here. Plus my editors are really nice people, attractive, single, and competent at their jobs, so I doubt they’ll notice [Q: I notice everything, pooper scooper].
The school wants to hold the spooning coordinators, or spoordinators, accountable. Really, they want to hold anyone accountable except the dead, because that looks bad in press releases, or themselves. For a while they were thinking of ways to implicate Kappa Sig in this, but decided against it for fear of an OBD-esque retaliation. The school finally decided on a plan of action to address the three student’s deaths: they plan on changing the name of Blowout to “Hopeout.” I don’t get it either, although it is conveniently the same number of syllables. Whoever is to blame, I think we can all agree that we should spend the weekend with the ones we love and remind them of how important they are to us before the grim hand of death pulls them away. A candlelight vigil will be held for the passed students on Thursday the 26th, with the candlelight vigil for the fatalities of that candlelight vigil held the day after. §
The Botetourt Squat § Friday, April 27th, 2012 § PAGE 2
Area man removes single brick from campus, urges student body to find it
BY TOM BOMBADIL ENTROPY WILL SWALLOW US ALL “That’s right you little fuckers! Just try and find it!” As he stood on top of a rotting pig carcass, firmly planted in the free speech zone, William Nugent III flung obscenity after obscenity at innocent students hustling to class. A man of 38 years who appears closer to 67, he had phlegm dripping from his nose and he extolled the virtue of keeping the campus orderly. “Fuck the forces of entropy, college students! Resist your urge to whisper softly to the universe as it rips you apart, atom-by-atom! You don’t simply die, your carcass dissolves and becomes one with the universe! He who created this place is tearing it asunder! “But fear not, young souls! You can overcome His will! Fight entropy wherever you find it! Show Him that you intend to maintain ORDER!” Students reportedly gathered around and clapped. According to Phil Barteta, ’14, “He just had a way with words, you know? I couldn’t stand the idea of letting the Universe fall apart. We only have one Universe. Duh! A Uni-verse. One. Anyway, I’m gonna find that fucking brick and put it back in its place.” William Nugent III is not simply a mentally unstable middle-aged man; he has a record of travelling around the country trying to appeal to his base: college kids. “They are just more receptive, ya know,” he said in a very smelly interview, “because they haven’t been taken by the forces of evil yet. That’s why I took the brick away. To show them that there are real consequences to allowing entropy to do it’s fucking terrifying work.” More students gathered around the man while he was getting into how he hid the brick. One kid with an iPhone, John Sullivan ’15, posted an event on Facebook and since he’s a rich little asshole, offered a thousand dollar reward to anyone who found the brick. His plan was “drunk frat girl on a Wednesday night
The Botetourt Squat
Grainy footage shows William Nugent III in the midst of a mindfucking speech
in some random unit” stupid, drawing kids from all over the College to bring bricks to the Matoaka Amphitheater. The collection numbered in the thousands; bricks of all shapes and levels of wear were presented. The crazy “entropist,” as he is referred to, examined each one carefully, judging them all to be different from the one he removed. Dismayed converts soon realized that Sullivan’s reward was actually causing more entropy, as bricks all over campus were being transported to the Matoaka Amphitheater. They began shouting for no more bricks, choosing to try to regroup and rethink a strategy for finding the brick. Just at that moment, intrepid treasure hunter Gavin “The Pain” Trayer base jumped off the back patio of the Daily Grind, landing on the amphitheater deck, clutching a single brick in hand. His enormous weight proved too much for the platform, though, and the whole thing fucking collapsed into the shitty Crim Dell runoff.
Nugent, crushed beneath the deck, head epically exposed, reportedly said, “See you fucking idiots? My plan has worked! I actually SUPPORT entropy! That’s right! And I destroyed your campus! My life means nothing compared to the progress I’ve made for Father Universe! Death embrace me in your feeble arms!” He then closed his eyes and went silent. He was transported to an area hospital and left with minor injuries. The campus was shocked at the weird shit that went down, but confirmation from the administration confirms that the campus was basically unharmed by the event. “The Wren Building is fine, the Admissions Office is intact, and the Career Center still looks pretty fucking new, so I think the Class of 2016 will still be a strong one,” said Richard Lee from the Admissions Office. He went on to comment, “But we probably won’t see too many applicants from that one tour group, though.” §
IN THE STREET WITH YOUR HOMIES, WE’RE ASKING YOU QUESTIONS
How do you plan to spend your Spring Blowout?
‘Chances Are, It’s News’
300 Chandler Hall, The College of William and Mary, Williamsburg, Va. 23185
THE SQUAT: firstname.lastname@example.org Zack Quaratella, Editor-in-Chief Ben Reynolds, Editor-in-Chief Jordan Obey, Managing Editor JohnAugust Bridgeford, Managing Editor Jake Balls, Copy Editor Sarah Lohmann, Arts Director Ryan Novak, Variety Rigel Kaufman, Opinion Tim Planert, Agenda Setting Nitin Iyengar, Beat Editor Pratik Sinha, Junior Staff Writer Aiden Benshimol, Staff Writer
Rigel Kaufman, Staff Writer William Brightly, Columnist William Amante, Boy Scout Daniel Duane, The Man Charles Gowan, Seabiscuit Matt Fruberry, Plebe Mike Holtzmann, Plebe Joseph Soultanis, Plebe Taylor Renard, Plebe Jack Crum, Plebe
Layout by Zack Quaratella and Ben Reynolds. Disclaimer: This is a satire newspaper, and should be read as such. Not intended for readers under 18, or people who don’t understand satire. Not intended to be read by Student Affairs. Special thanks to our lovely Swem Cataloguers, who have to endure this monthly hardship. Any people represented in this paper are fictional, unless given express consent to the writer or editor. Please don’t sue us. We don’t have money.
“I’ll be spending Blowout with my lovely girlfriend, ha, actually, I’ll be pounding back Everclear bombs with my few remaining friends and trying to choke back the tears of loneliness.”
News In Brief Local Man Tries to Live Just Life, Comes to Grief Amongst So Many Who Are Wicked What the fuck do you want from me? Isn’t the story blatantly obvious from the title? It’s not like this is a shocking revelation. A society in which nice guys don’t finish last exists only in the imagination of toked-up TWAMP philosophy majors; it has never existed in truth. A TWAMP who ignores what is actually done for what should ideally be done learns betrayal rather than integrity and success. What good is be-
“Drowning in frat sludge. Then I’ll be studying for my Math Powered Flight final. There’s this great balcony I’m planning to leap from in the depths of my alcohol-induced despair.”
“What is a blowout? 叫警察! 我 的氣墊船充滿了鱔魚!”
ing a good TWAMP when acting decently only invites its exploitation by TWAMPs who see the opportunity? And surely these TWAMPs make up the majority of any class of TWAMPs. There is truly nothing sadder than a former TWAMP dreamer made cynical because of the trust he TWAMPly put in other TWAMPs. I can say this generally of TWAMPs: they are ungrateful, untrustworthy, heroic in speech but cowardly in action, and always seekers of personal TWAMP gain. A TWAMP must learn that love of power and fear of loss are the only sure traits of whatsoever TWAMP in question.
He must found his relations with other TWAMPs on shrewd calculation and manipulation of TWAMPly desires, for a TWAMP who believes he can rely on love and friendship alone will inevitably meet his ruin. As I have.
Email your blowout stories to email@example.com.
You Know That Creeping Sense of Dread That Accompanies Every Birthday After Your Seventeenth? Morton Wins Another Architecture Award Death of America Confirmed After Embassy Raid in Tehran
The Botetourt Squat
Friday, April 27th, 2012
Overzealous students pre-game Relay for Life, “puke and relay” BY PUBLIUS SEND YOUR CHECKS IN TODAY William and Mary’s Relay for Life, a charity event raising money for cancer research and awareness, was marred by the disturbing alcoholism of several students. According to “witnesses,” a number of sophomores rushed onto the field during the Survivor’s Lap chanting “puke and relay.” Unfortunately, there was far more vomiting than power-walking. The celebrants danced across Busch Field while kicking wildly at any persons who dared to approach them. One student, Jerome Wilkins ‘14 ΔX, demanded loudly that “someone play that fucking Sandstorm song,” following soon after with “da da da da! jigga jigga ja jigga jigga jigga ja!” Terrence Limpbody ’14 assaulted two staff members and an elderly onlooker
with a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon before breaking down in tears. He told the Campus Police that the disaster began when a compatriot suggested “pre-gaming” the charity event to make it “fun.” Pre-gaming is a disturbing trend among college students wherein participants imbibe alcohol, sometimes in excess of one drink an hour, before attending a second drinking party. Said Limpbody “Me and my friends [sic] drank like two or three beers and also took a sniff of a Four Loko, so we were pretty wasted. I don’t remember anything except seeing my friend Ashley’s ‘tang, making a large donation to the American Cancer Society, and rafting down the Mississippi River with a Caucasian and African American child while trying to avoid pole-catters, Klansmen, and Missourian blood-feuds.” Attendants of the event were simultaneously shocked and impressed by the riot-
ous drunkenness of the students, at times chuckling mirthfully at their increasing levels of undress. Ashley Firth ’14 KΔ was reportedly nude from the waist down, much to the dismay of an ever-watching, ever-judging God. Despite the un-Christian behavior of some offenders, many interviewed said it was the best Relay for Life yet, and hoped more inebriated, naked students would attend next year to increase interest from local residents. One local who declined to have his name printed in this illustrious paper described the event as “real excitin’, ‘specially the part where I got ‘ta see one ‘er them [vaginas] in person.” Another local and self-proclaimed frequent patron of the Library Tavern announced her happiness at seeing “what a ‘normal’ [vagina] might look like.” Swift action by the William and Mary Police Department resulted in the arrest,
two hour detention, and subsequent release of the jack-ass students. Officers stated that, while the crimes of the four to twelve students involved were indubitably heinous, they were nonetheless “really fucking annoying in the holding cell, and they kept asking for shots and if it was ladies night.” Chief ‘Mad Dog’ Johnson further explained “they were taking up valuable space in the lock-up that we’re gonna need for Blowout.” Despite the disruptions, William and Mary Relay for Life reported its largest haul yet, including two separate $5,000 donations from Limpbody’s ’14 trust fund and a half-finished can of Busch Lite from Jackson Crum ’14. One student, Tamara Sandford ‘14, reportedly broke her leg the night of the Relay and remains on Busch Field, untouched, crying out in vain to passersby for help. §
King and Queen’s Ball attended primarily by Dukes, Duchesses BY FOX IN SOCKS GRAND-ASS SWAG DUCHESS Last Friday night saw the rager that William and Mary’s student body looks forward to all year: the Kings and Queens Ball. Louder than the first floor of Swem during jock study hours, sweatier than the glow stick party, and smellier than the Grim Dell on a humid day, Kings and Queens has been universally declared to be the rager that shames all other ragers. This year’s Kings and Queens marked the first time in history that the Sunken Gardens has held plant life, and students were seen taking advantage of that fact as they puked in the potted plants after binge-eating cheese and crackers. Other students were overheard discussing their amazement at the fact that soda was readily available, and one TWAMP whispered to his friend excitedly that he was “under-
age” before chugging a can of Sprite. A few TWAMPs seem to have been too frightened by the hardcore activities inside of the tent, and so resorted to meekly playing Frisbee on the side of the gardens, while complaining that, “man, we’re not cool enough for this shit.” The campus Greek Life, too intimidated by the legacy of the rager and aware of the rumors that this year’s Ball would be even more of a shitshow than the last, purposefully scheduled all of their mixers at the same time as the Ball so that they would not have to attempt to keep up with the rest of the student body. Freshmen were stunned at the sight of their classmates, having assumed that this event was “college prom!!!!1!” after buying corsages and taking pictures on the stairwell with the rest of their FreshPack. Several Freshmen were seen walking around in a state of shock after they made
the mistake of drinking the lemonade, which had been spiked with extra sugar by some malicious upperclassman. Needless to say, several bedtimes were missed. A highlight of the night was the appearance of our very own Taylor Reveley, who made a speech even more incoherent and full of vocabulary words than usual and fell off of the stage after drunkenly singing Princeton’s alma mater instead of ours. Another member of the administration, Ginger Ambler, was seen lurking in the corners of the tent, holding a pen and pad of paper and whispering to herself, saying over and over, “the emails, all the emails!” The band, hired by the school, went over well with the rowdy crowd of students. One Sophomore told us, “That 80s cover band was so much better than music we can actually dance to!”, and another exclaimed, “I’m so glad that they embraced our school’s diverse culture by playing en-
tirely white-people music! Free Bird!” The esteemed William and Mary International Relations Club, composed as usual, sang the alma mater at the end of the ball, in hopes of an encore from the band, which one member of the club described as, “all that everclear made this the shit! I’m the drunkest biddy ever! Rally bitches!” It is obvious that this year’s Kings and Queens will forever be remembered as the hardest rager of the year, as students continue to recover from their long night of awkwardly sitting at tables watching other people have fun. The school administration seems to be in talks about how to revamp the event in order to avoid another shitshow. Current ideas include not letting Reveley talk ever again, and hiring the William and Mary Choir to sing—God forbid we know any of the songs we’re dancing to. §
3D Re-release of Gigli to add new level to story Where Is That Bitch Carmen San Diego? William B. is a syndicated columnist with the Botetourt Squat. His other hobbies include dressage and frottage. It’s no secret that I’m a major fan of all things Brendan Fraser. Well, maybe not all things. I guess that at my core, I’m really a vintage Fraser fan. When I say vintage I’m talking about really old shit, like before Urkel and Laura started dating, like School Ties and shit. That was the period when Brendan Fraser was getting up each morning, hitting a fat rail, and nailing every script which he could catch in his tentacles. These old movies seriously don’t get old. If someone gave me a monkey wrench and a VHS copy of Encino Man to spend the day with, I’d be fucking stoked. Another one of my favorite Fraser flicks is the epically funny and touching George of the Jungle. Brendan played the title character, a role for which he was nominated for the highly prestigious Blockbuster Entertainment Award for Favorite Action Actor. He lost. Unfortunately for the Frasemeister, his more recent films have
not received the same critical acclaim that George of the Jungle did. At first I just thought that bitches were wilin’, but then I saw Furry Vengeance. Now it’s no secret that I’m a major fan of all things Brendan Fraser, but his performance in Furry Vengeance was lackluster at best. I guess that Brendan must just be on his way out, which is a major problem not only for Brendan Fraser, but also for all his avid fans. What will the world do without more movies like Looney Tunes: Back in Action? More likely than not it will completely fall apart and everything will go to complete shit, just like it did when Pauly Shore stopped making movies. I of course have a solution to this problem. Brendan, and Stony and Sean should make an Encino Man sequel. They left it off perfectly with the discovery of the cave woman at the very end of the original. Encino Man 2: The Lust of Link could start off right where Encino Man left off and could get into the nitty gritty of Link’s romantic relationship with that cavechick. Plus it’ll be the closest we’ll get to seeing some cave boobies since Raquel Welch’s performance in One Million Years BC. Now it’s up to you, Brendan, to make it happen. The eyes of the world are upon you. In other news, Flipmode. §
BY RONALDINHO McDONALD SENIOR JOLIE JACKER It was recently announced that the 2003 film Gigli would be the next project to be given the “3D Treatment.” After the success of Titanic it became inevitable that more titles would follow suit. Although the film bombed upon its initial release, Director Martin Brest seems optimistic about its success in 2012. “Gigli was ahead of its time,” said Brest, “a lot has changed since 2003, and I feel that if people would just give it another chance…” The new release will apparently add a whole new dimension to the film (actually,
exactly one dimension) and has been edited down to 38 minutes long. One of our reporters saw the new cut, saying, “It’s literally just as bad as I remember it, maybe even worse. I…God Damnit!” When asked about the film, Ben Affleck didn’t seem to recall ever being in a film by that name. Now trying to make his name as a director, it seems Affleck has completely blocked Gigli out of his memory, as had most of us until this announcement. “If people go into this with an open mind, I think they might see things differently” pleaded Brest, “at the very least I’m banking on people wanting to see J-Lo’s ass in 3D.” §
Pumping iron with Jake Balls Tips for true fitness How many calories do you eat over the course of a normal day? Take that number, start eating half of that, and then maybe you can start looking as good as me. Jake Balls is a fitness instructor at the College of Williamand Mary, and he is a professional self-help columnist.
The Botetourt Squat
Friday, April 27th, 2012
Dead body found in Swem study rooms Tips for Fathering Gen. Vincent Longhammer is a retired U.S. Lieutenant General and a devoted family man. He lives in Arizona with his wife.
₰ You need to have a deep psychological level of control over your children. I suggest enforcing seemingly random rules with extreme prejudice. My children weren’t allowed to poop without asking permission until they were fourteen, and my girl still must submit hand written requests to change her tampons.
₰ It’s important to cheat on your wife. Sleeping around lets her know you don’t need her as much as she needs you and will keep you in the position of authority. Make sure your children never catch you, however. It’s equally important you remain an infallible demi-god to them so they can build up the proper amount of self loathing.
₰ If you have two sons only give one of them your name. For the rest of the other’s life you can remind him why he didn’t get your name when he makes a mistake. If you have two girls you should go ahead and end it for not being man enough to produce a son.
₰ Remember, parenting is a team sport. Make sure to give your wife a strong, conspicuous backhand every now and again so your children know who’s team manager.
₰ At some point your children are going to experiment with anal. Better they be prepared than blowout their chocolate donut. You should gift them some anal lube in a clever fashion so it’s simple and easy for the both of you. Try slipping it in their stocking or Easter basket.
BY DARK PALADIN SENIOR SWEM FINALSIST WILLIAMSBURG, VA - A dead body was discovered in one of the Swem study rooms at the College early Wednesday morning in an incident that further stirred up controversy over use of the library during finals. The student, whose identity has not been released, had attempted to remove one of the ceiling panels in order to surreptitiously set up residence in the room, well ahead of the start of finals week. Several textbooks, a laptop, a backpack, food, water, a flashlight, a fleshlight, and a sleeping bag were found on the scene. Attempting to skirt the library’s new policy restricting use of the study rooms to two hours at a time, it appears that the student intended to hide during the day in the ceiling and use the library after closing time every night. The unfortunate student’s plans went tragically awry, however, when they were buried in a textbook avalanche while asleep and suffocated. The shocking news has stirred up further heated debate about the extremes to
which students go to secure study rooms during finals, as well as the unhealthy practice of many students during finals week of cramming on minimal sleep for days at a time, a technique shown to have absolutely no benefit whatsoever. The reaction to the news across the campus has been mixed, with some calling for the abolition of study rooms altogether, and the Study in Your Own Goddamn Dorm campaign, launched in response to the incident, is in the process of producing educational materials designed to teach students at the College to learn how to find other quiet study spots and “chill the fuck out, guys.” The incident has been compared to other notorious Swem-related scandals of the past, such as the infamous incident in 1974 when a complete human skeleton from the late 19th Century was found in the Swem stacks.
North Korea ignores U.N. warning not to launch missile, U.N. “miffed” BY A GOLDEN HAIRED NINNY UNDECLARED In spite of United Nations protests, North Korea attempted to launch a vaguely phallis shaped long range missile, leading to a hilarious Austin Powers 2-esque montage of people finishing each other’s sentences with various double entendres. But we’re not here to talk about the comedic masterpieces that are the Austin Powers films. We’re here to talk about the comedic masterpiece that is international politics. The U.N. protested North Korea’s actions vigorously, stating “Hey man, that ain’t cool! We totally said don’t do that! :(“ (please note that the sad face was in the official statement and not added by members of the Squat) It then vowed that if North Korea continued testing missiles then the U.N. might have to “consider possibly taking some sort of action, maybe, at some point, if it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience, if that’s okay with you, maybe?” Possible actions are to be decided via roulette wheel at a later date, with options
including “get those American tossers to invade,” “embargo,” and “not inviting you [North Korea] to all the best parties.” North Korea continues to assert that the launch was merely a satellite launch. “North Korea’s internet has been locked off from the world from some time,” said Kim Il-sung, “for obvious reasons. We don’t our citizens to develop the original opinions and original ideas.” He then broke down laughing, before continuing, “No really though, we just don’t want them joining another mindless horde. We want their creepy, mindless, fanatic, devotion to be devoted to us, as opposed to the creepy, fanatic devotion of Redditors, 4chan, MSPaintAdventures, etc. But blanketing out the entire internet causes some pretty serious problems. Namely, the severe lack of hardcore porn. I mean, I know I can’t be the only one in North Korea with a hankerin’ for some Black-Asian Tranny Threesome porn, am I right?” He then looked expectantly at the audience, who met his gaze with mild revulsion. “Anyway, so yeah, the satellite was created to launch www.black-
asiantrannythreesomehardcorepornforthedignifiednorthkoreanconnoisseur.nk.” Not everyone was as concerned about the “missile launch” as the U.N., however. One expert authority commenting on Yahoo was confident in the U.S.’s ability to preemptively eliminate any threat to U.S. security, saying “looks like our star wars weponized satelite really works think about how hard could it be to build a sucessful rocket?” After all, North Korea was only attempting to build and launch a successful long-range missile. It isn’t exactly rocket science, right guys? Another commentator took pity and offered his expert advice to North Korea, saying “Next time N. Korea, try using rocket fuel instead of coal!” Senior Racist Hobo Wanderin’ Joe added “I wouldn’t worry too much ‘bout Kim Jong-un and his mongoloid kin. We kicked their asses in the ‘Nam, we kicked their asses in the World War II, and we kicked their asses in the Russo-Japanese War!” No one had the heart to tell W. Joe that the Japanese won the RussoJapanese War… or that the United States
didn’t take part in the Russo-Japanese War. We didn’t want to break his spirit. But for some people, the long-range missile story didn’t fly (you should probably pause for a moment to appreciate that beautiful pun). All sorts of conspiracy theories have been dropping like Korean missiles (Oh-Ho! Two in a row! I’m on fire!). Eyewitnesses reported seeing an explosion shortly after the missile launch, prompting various conspiracy theories that they launch was a sort of diversion. “Can’t you see the implications of this?” said Senior Conspiracy Theorist Jordan Obey, “They were trying to use the missile as a distraction to import Elvis so that he could use his knowledge of nuclear physics to create a nuclear device capable of summoning the Elder Gods from the nether-reaches of space and time!”
Swem’s new stress reducing final schedule hailed as “the most smartest thing ever done smartly” BY FATHER PADRE CAN BARELY CONTAIN EXCITEMENT Mandatory reservations for all study rooms and lack of tents inside the library are not the only ‘stress reducing’ changes to be introduced for the 2012 spring final period. Ushered in following the ‘Swemmania’ that tragically left many traumatized and over eight and a half dead last December, the new policies were described as “small changes that could add up to significant improvements in the atmosphere” in an email sent to students on Tuesday. Most students like Travis Carr ‘13, told reporters that they initially responded positively to “what I expected would be more free pizza. But how naïve I proved to be…” Like many students interviewed during this ‘test run week’ for the new policies at Swem, Carr answered questions with his balls in a slowly tightening metal vice grip. When questioned about his gentile’s compromised position, Carr explained that, “all the chairs have them now, I’m told so we
can’t stay in here for too long.” After looking around slowly, Carr also added quietly, “I think we’re being watched, you should probably go now.” Further inquires proved that Carr’s suspicions were indeed accurate. Accompanying the ball squeezing chairs and amplified sounds of slowly dripping water (to help students keep track of time), squirrels, due to an agreements reached in negotiations between President Reveley and the Squirrel King last week over allegations of ‘squirrels fucking in front of tour groups,’ have been recruited to monitor student behavior inside Swem in exchange for a large quantity of nuts comprised mainly of acorns. Other animals—a litter of pit bulls and one male grizzly—have also been recruited to breath heavily and administer swift, merciless justice to any student caught violating the new stress reliving policies. While Swem claims to “appreciate the need for sleep” it will rely solely on megaphones for communications between students and staff. In hopes of reducing noise and move-
ment, Swem has also decided to conduct a two-week renovation on all bathrooms and water fountains within the library during exam period. When questioned about the theory behind these unconventional policies the Dean of University Libraries, Carrie Cooper stated, “Don’t you get it? Kids annoy the fuck out of us, and we just want an extra two weeks of summer.” After asking how this would reduce stress for students
within Swem, Miss Cooper shook her head in a demeaning manner and called in a team of surprisingly well organized and disciplined squirrels to escort this reporter out of the building. Despite all of this, many students still plan to study in Swem after Miss Cooper made the mistake of attempting to end her email to students with sarcasm by stating that the library plans to “continue our tradition of hosting study breaks during finals.”
The Botetourt Squat
Friday, April 27th, 2012
90’s sitcom character comes to William & Mary, disappoints greatly BY SECRETARIAT SHUT-IN TELEVISION ADDICT It has been a full year since Freshman Dawson Matthews learned the importance of hard work and discipline just in time to apply himself, graduate high school, and be accepted to William and Mary. It looked like he wasn’t going to make it going into his senior year at Middleton High School. His bad-boy attitude, desire to not follow in his up-tight parents white-picket lifestyle, and continued confrontations with his always surly history teacher Mr. Madison made it seem like Dawson was on the fast track to a life behind the ticket counter at the local arcade. This all changed when the stiffs at Megalo Mart decided they wanted to build a new super center in Middleton and were going to tear down Skateland to make room. The students of Middleton were on a total bummer until Dawson stepped up and devised a brilliant plan to prank the Megalo Mart CEO until he stopped construction. The crusade to save the student’s fa-
vorite hang out spot taught Dawson that it was important to apply oneself, and that just because you work hard doesn’t mean you’ve turned your back on who you are. You need to forge your own way in this world and not let others’ conformist ideas shape who you are. He expressed all these ideas in an eloquent speech that he delivered impromptu at his school’s graduation, which he wasn’t even supposed to be at because he couldn’t pass Madison’s totally bogus final. He was only there because Stephanie Goodson, the school’s surprisingly hot valedictorian who he had no chance with despite the obvious sexual tension, had accidentally gotten the notebook she wrote her speech in mixed up with his. As soon as he walked on stage to give the notebook to Stephanie just in the nick of time, the students started cheering and demanding a speech from their lovably renegade leader. His speech was so moving that Mr. Madison came up on stage and informed the whole school that he was passing Dawson. Mr. Madison had just wanted to see Dawson apply himself and experience personal growth. Now that he had
done that, he was ready to graduate. The auditorium erupted in applause and in the cheerful pandemonium Stephanie wrapped her arms around Dawson and with one PG13 rated kiss started what was sure to be an everlasting relationship. Three months later Dawson arrived on the campus of the College of William and Mary with a can-do attitude and an arm full of miscellaneous items. One year later and the school is not inviting him back. Dawson was shocked to learn that no one had heard of his high school heroism and really didn’t give a fuck about it. His new perspective on life quickly became jaded when he realized that he couldn’t just talk about working harder, but actually had to do it. He also couldn’t adapt to having to study for hours instead of scattering about some books and empty pizza boxes to give the impression of studying for hours. He no longer lived in a PG world and now had a steady dealer and the ability to drink without a lessonlearning accident happening to him or his friends. He was skipping classes to play Mario Kart by the end of the first month.
He didn’t really adjust socially either. Dawson kept trying to address crowds of students after conflicts, usually starting his unsolicited advice with, “You know, I learned something today.” It seemed like the same time each week he was involved in drama stemming from a misunderstanding that he later tried to solve with some climatic plan. The plans were so convoluted they’d fail and he’d be forced come clean and ask for forgiveness, claiming he’d learned a lesson. After the third time people were just plain tired of it. How does him trying to get me together with my crush by changing the answers on my mid-term so I would fail and think I need a tutor, knowing she is a biology tutor, repair the hole he kicked in my door? I didn’t even get her as a tutor. I got some smelly kid that fucking tucked his American flag shirts into his cargo pants. I’m glad his girlfriend slutted it up at State. Did you hear about that? His girlfriend totally blew State football’s starting line. Wait, what was I saying? Oh yeah, Dawson Matthews. Fuck that guy and good riddance. §
Mitt Romney reveals plans to expand presidential bedroom to accommodate multiple women BY FETA CHEESE SENIOR POLITICO Rick Santorum recently decided to drop out of the race for the Republican presidential nomination, leaving Mitt Romney as the default choice for Republican voters. Santorum finally threw in the towel after he realized that he was far too crazy to actually win anything that required some form of popularity. Mitt Romney has been riding this new surge of support and excitement as he prepares to face off against Barack Obama in the 2012 presidential election. This victory in the Republican primary has
given Romney the confidence he needs to win the presidency. But has he gotten a bit too overconfident? This past week, Mitt Romney openly discussed his plans to renovate the President’s Bedroom in the White House. Among other things, the Mormon candidate intends to increase the size of his bed from king to tyrannical dictator and to add vaulted ceilings because he “likes to stack [bitches on bitches].” When questioned about this decision, Romney simply stated that he needed more room to do activities. The response from the general public has been telling at best. The older Repub-
Memoirs: How I Learned to Stop Worrying said she saw me at the big meeting that And Love Camp day (they announced my name and said, BY HALF-CHUBB YOU ALL REMEMBER CAMP
When I was twelve years old, I went to Rotary summer camp for the first time. I missed my parents, and the first night I pissed myself in my bunk bed. I couldn’t stop crying. My camp counselors tried to get me to stop crying, because they wanted to sleep. It was okay, though. The next day, I won the foursquare tournament. Well, there were two tournaments, and I stuck to the one with the amateurs, but I still won, so that was cool. There was a camp dance that night. This fat girl came up to me and
good job on the winning the foursquare tournament, Jake). She asked if I wanted to dance. I didn’t want to, because she was fat, but I was nervous and said, okay. We sort of slow danced. I kept my hand in the air a few inches off her waist. I avoided her eyes most of the time. We talked about the camp food. I also like Kool-Aid, I said. Yes, bug juice is a funny name for Kool-Aid. You can’t swim? That’s okay, I thought, you can probably float just fine. I saw my camp counselor, and he saw me with the fat girl. I won the fat girl, I realized. Rotary, oh Rotary, a song of praise we sing, RAH RAH RAH. §
lican voting population is appalled that Romney’s campaign demands any sort of change while the younger conservatives just love chanting “GET IT IN.” These two heavily contradicting responses have been tough on the Obama campaign as they attempt to regulate Romney’s popularity, but Romney has never felt more right at home.
CONTINUED FROM BLOWOUT jaded by the college judicial process), the RACUS proclaimed, “Any persons found to possess one unit of alcohol will immediately be written up. Any persons found to possess greater than one unit of alcohol will be written up and then given a stern talking to.” The email continued, “Also, you fucking seniors won’t walk in graduation because, hell yes we’re that petty. Oh what? Your grandma was going to fly down to see her Boobie graduate college before she dies? TOO FUCKING BAD! You should have thought of that before you tried to revisit your old room to experience a little nostalgia before you finally go into the real
world for which your experience here has not prepared you.” As you can see, residents of William and Mary, the College is really a little concerned that Blowout might be a little too wild. So please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t drink anything but watered down orange juice from Sadler or an all fruit smoothie from the Daily Grind. Unless you spike those drinks. Actually, that’s really not a bad idea. Good luck on Blowout, Squat readers. And remember, anyone could be a fucking RA snitch! He’ll Flip Ya For
Not pumping iron with Ryan Brovak Tips for fitness “You may not be able to carry sleeping bags or tents into Swem, but Mike Halleran didn’t say anything about pulling a Luke Skywalker and sleeping in the entrails of a Tauntaun.” Ryan Novak is not a fitness instructor at the College of William and Mary, and he is not a professional self-help columnist.
ARTS AND LEISURE
The Botetourt Squat § Friday, April 27th, 2012 § PAGE 6
Cold War Kids concert determined to be “hot” BY FATHER PADRE ADOLPH HITLER’S BIRTHDAY Greeted by almost 30 people, the indie rock band Cold War Kids assumed the stage on April 20th to give what would later be hailed by two people as “a pretty bad show” and “not the high point of my day.” The overwhelmingly, almost concerningly relaxed atmosphere was completely demolished after the opening ‘musicians’ played songs from a laptop while occasionally strumming a guitar. Cold War Kids finally took the stage, greeted with more cheers of relief than excitement and an odd stench wafting from the crowd. After the lead singer, Nathan Willett, sporting almost demon-like red eyes, determined that the band was not playing in Richmond, but definitely somewhere near it, the band began to play.
Cold War Kids seemed to shock their audience as they began their set, causing some members of crowd to retreat backwards or giggle uncontrollably. As the students adjusted to the presence of actual music, one observer highlighted the odd behavior of many in attendance that in-
“Cold War Kids accused of living in the past...” cluded “laying down to intensely stroke the grass, a ridiculous number of trips to concession, and people separating themselves from the group to slowly sway to the music with eyes closed.” While some of the concert-goers continued to ‘rock out hard’ throughout the show, seemly ignor-
ing the behavior of those around them, that same observer from before also noted that a strange smell preceded the bouts of these unexplainable actions. Despite the stench, President of the College “Reveley” seemed to enjoy the show and even took the stage at one point to announce, “This is way succulent man, far out. The Dude abides!” When asked what he thought of the concert one member of AMP Music, Arvin Alaigh ’15 stated “Who the fuck gave you a press pass, get the fuck out of here! Wait, are you high right now? Do you ever get nervous?”
“Concert ended in fifty year war of attrition...”
Following a brief interlude of convincing both Alaigh and security that this reporter did not steal a press pass, Alaigh admitted that “we at AMP Music, by once again impressing no one while avoiding being labeled by the Flat Hat as hipster organizations like WCWM, view this concert as a complete success.” One self proclaimed WCWM member interviewed after the concert denied the allegation, but was clearly drawn to the show by the fact that few William and Mary students actually liked the band. He did however confirm that the group “was not worth ten dollars” earning him a rare place among the majority of his peers. Despite all of this, there was good news for one student, Even Bond ’15, who left the show with “a completely new perspective of reality.” The concessions stand also reported record sales for the day. §
With a good work ethic and tons of practice little kid still sucks at sports BY CAPTAIN ASS HAT ACTUALLY DR. RALPHY MOMO Young Geraldo Saurez is a hard working lad. His father Javier taught him to never give up and to never surrender as telling yourself you can’t do something is what leads to you automatically being unable to do whatever it is you’re already admitting you can’t do. Geraldo or Raldo as his friends called him took this to heart. He told himself he’d never give up on anything he ever wanted to do, that quitting was never an option. And what little Raldo wanted to do was be good at basketball. Too bad for him that all the practicing in the world isn’t going to make him not be the absolute worst basketball player in the history of community youth basketball. Strike that, according to first hands
accounts he’s not even the worst player in community youth basketball because he never actually made it on a community youth basketball team. This makes Geraldo Saurez the worst community youth basketball hopeful. “What? That little latino kid? Oh God he’s awful. Totally hopeless. He shouldn’t even be allowed on a basketball court anymore, he’s so bad that’s it’s dangerous for the other kids,” said Saurez’s father when asked why his son doesn’t seem to be improving despite his many hours of diligent practice. Saurez’s is not an isolated case. It seems many young kids across the nation are becoming worse and worse at sports despite practicing. Some researches believe that this is due to the increased emphasis of having “fun” in sports instead of aiming
for complete supremacy and the utter destruction of opponents. In layman’s terms, it’s because kids are pussies. Some aren’t satisfied with this explanation however and attribute this continued “sucking” of sports is just a testament to the old adage “If you can’t do it, don’t try.” “The kid simply cannot play basketball, it has nothing to do with whether or not he is playing to have fun or not, he just sucks, that’s all there is to it,” explained Gregory Fulton, a volunteer coach for the community youth basketball league. While it has been nearly impossible to pinpoint the root of Geraldo’s problems it has at least been determined that it will not be a problem for him as reports from the locker room say he has an abnormally large penis. §
President Reveley commandeers new fraternity housing BY SCHLONGDONG MANHAMMER WHY IS THERE NO MUSIC REVIEW In a shocking move Thursday, President Taylor Reveley announced he will be moving into the planned new fraternity housing complex upon its completion in Summer 2013. “The President’s House blows cock!” said a very clearly and sloppily intoxicated Reveley at the project’s groundbreaking ceremony Thursday morning. “It was built in like the 1200s. The fireplace is made out of asbestos and the toilet is just a hole in the ground. “I see all these beautiful new houses going up and I realized that why the fuck should snobby little kids get them?! What about the President of the fucking College?!” The complex, which will consist of eleven houses and a larger community building, will be entirely be occupied by Reveley and his family. The President will reside in the community building, his wife will live in the house furthest away from there, and there will be one house reserved for each of the couple’s nine cats, leaving one house that Reveley is calling “party central.” “All these kids think they know how to party, well I was a sock hop legend in my day. I’ll teach them a thing or two. We’ll
have a live barbershop quartet every Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, and on Saturdays we’ll play Red Rover in the living room. Kids at this school study too fucking much and they need a place to unwind on the weekends. RAAAGGGGEEEEEE!!!!!!!” Reveley added that he is more in touch with what college students do for fun than the fraternities who would have occupied the houses, and therefore is more qualified to live in them. He also noted that social functions at his new dwelling will be “black tie mandatory” and will have an “extensive library” for students looking to read recreationally.
“My house right now sucks, historic landmark or not. I’ll give it to that freaky Ginger Ambler chick, she’ll have a lot of fun sending out all those preposterous emails in a house with no electrical outlets.” Initial student reaction was mixed. Kappa Delta Rho president Rob Stevens ‘13 expressed relief at being able to stay in the Units for the foreseeable future. “We never wanted to leave,” Stevens said. “There’s something beautiful about seeing 400 people dancing in a grimy, beer-stained room when the capacity is 125. The sweat is intoxicating. We would never want to lose that.” Additionally, underclassmen were thrilled about still being able to pick the Units as a student housing option past next year. “Thank God,” wrote one student on Facebook. “If I got the last time slot and was forced out into Jamestown I would be devastated.” However, other students were miffed at the thought of seeing more of Reveley on campus. A Flat Hat online poll revealed that he is smelly, and uses too-long words to describe mundane things. “At least I know how to party,” said Reveley. “And now I can finally watch porn.” We are not responsible for this.
The Botetourt Squat § Friday, April 27th, 2012 § PAGE 7
Eunuchs ‘12 The Sensible Solution BY EDITORIAL STAFF REALLY IT WAS FOX IN SOCKS
comics by Beardo
Point: Pinkies - Do we really need them? BY PARTICLE MAN SKYLORD SENIOR POINTILIST Pinkies are the laughing stock of the fingers. They’re short, unsightly, and they don’t really do anything. When’s the last time you needed your pinky for an activity that couldn’t be better accomplished by your pointer or middle finger, or the stud of all fingers, the thumb? Never. If you had to remove one finger from each hand, you would choose your pinkies. Why keep them? Cut them off. Liberate your hands of these tyrannical digits. Don’t worry, I’ll wait. Did you do it? Good. Here’s how to best utilize your newly-freed hands. The most immediate thing that comes to mind is the stealthy nose-picker. While most gold diggers like to use their more meaty fingers for increased digging ability, the occasional person likes the maneuverability of the pinky for retrieving some nuggets. My suggestion: use your middle finger. It’s the longest, and it has all of the power of any other finger for cleaning those unsightly boogers from the depths of your nostrils. Better yet, you see those losers judging you for picking your nose? Yeah, those motherfuckers right over there. Fuck those guys. You’re already telling them off! It’s a one-two punch. Now that’s what I call picking and choosing. A slightly less common predicament also arises:
the reader who wears glasses. Think - you’re pouring over an interesting article about fishing lures in Playboy magazine, analyzing the weaving juxtaposition of the sentences and multi-syllabic words that further the author’s downright riveting prose and suddenly, from all of your jerking, your glasses start to slip. Woe is you! One of your hands is occupied, and your dominant fingers on your alternate hand have been clutching a tissue now for some time a little too tightly, so that they can’t unwind in time. Now, the traditional response would be to use the unwound and less rigid pinky to replace your glasses to the bridge of your nose, but you don’t have pinkies anymore. Ah, but there’s a better option, for a modern man! You have a neck, and you have a desk too. Decisively whipping your head into your desk can rectify your conundrum. The additional punch-drunkenness from the impact can help your peak reach new heights. Look out, Behind Closed Doors. Isn’t having no pinkies so much better? There are more efficient ways of dealing with day-to-day problems, and this innovative thinking will help you in all aspects of your intellectual, social, and sexual life. Women will want you. Men will want you, too. Haven’t actually cut off your pinkies yet? Do it now. Help rectify another one of nature’s mistakes, alongside foreskin, back hair, and the clitoris, and improve your life exponentially. §
We live in scary times. China is growing stronger, North Korea is arming itself, and our president is a fascist that wants to hand our country over to the gay communists. We rely on our politicians to make the day to day decisions necessary to keep our country safe and strong. As voters, we expect so much from our politicians and yet, like the Greek gods, they are horribly flawed. They are still governed by human wants and desires. Carnal desires. The type of desires that keep thirteen year olds up at night trying to get a peek of late night HBO. It’s a proven fact that 90% of successful filibusters work because they last long enough so that fellow senators desire to do their job is overcome by their desire to sneak off and have a wank. Furthermore, India has replaced all its delegates to the UN with large breasted women, and suddenly everyone is okay with them testing longrange ballistic missiles. Coincidence? I think not! And this is just how the sexual desires of our elected officials indirectly get them into trouble. Let’s not ignore how many officials we elected to do one thing ended up doing someone else. From Monica Lewinsky’s infamous stain to airport men’s room rendezvous, politician’s mouths are getting them in trouble one way or another. On a side note, everyone should Wikipedia Monica Lewinsky. Did you know she hosted a dating show on Fox for a bit? I wish I was funny enough to make that up. But I digress. We also now have women running for president. This says a lot about how far our country has come since it was first founded, but it does open the door for some unique troubles. For instance, what if Obama had chosen Hillary Clinton as his VP? I can not think of anything more disdainful and unprofessional than a President in bed with his Vice President. I mean, if nothing else, it really doesn’t show a lot of fore-sight, now does it? You’re fucking, but have no commitment to that relationship, but have a commitment to a professional relationship. That is like fucking your lab partner the first weekend at school. Yeah, that’s a healthy work environment. But I digress. It’s obvious that our politician’s naughty bits are way more trouble than they are worth. That is why I suggest we spay and neuter all our politicians. I’m willing to bet that you cannot name one eunuch who is famous for being a poor leader or making a political guffaw. Yet at the same time, history is packed with fully-genitaled politicians cocking it up for everyone. There are so many benefits to castrating our elected officials apart from being physically incapable of getting into hanky panky trouble. Gone would be the days of embarrassing podium boners, Presidential protuberances, or senatorial schlong slipping. We would also save a fortune not having to pay for gold foil condoms for presidents and their cabinets. And think of the time we would save not having to stop Congress just so one delegate could catch his wind after sitting on his balls. I believe this solution works at every level. Just imagine how productive our student assembly would be if they were no longer hormone-fueled fornicators. Those e-mails would be crisp.
Counter-Point: Pinkies - Yes, we really do need them. BY PARTICLE MAN SKYLORD JUNIOR OPINION COLUMNIST? With all due respect, the previous opinion and the “journalist” who endorses it are both completely asinine. The pinky is the unsung hero of our hands. I mean, sure, the other fingers get most of the credit. The pointer finger for utility. The middle finger for conveyance. The ring finger for entrapment. The thumb for transportation. But the pinky is the jack-of-all-trades, able to be switched out on the fly for any number of uses, and save a person tons of time and effort. There have been many occasions in my life in which the pinky has been an invaluable asset. Neutering a person outright by the castration of his or her pinkies simply cannot stand uncontested. Think of pleasuring a woman. Just a few days ago, I was helping this woman climax using my hand, and two fingers just were not working. Perhaps three would do the trick, I thought. But to no avail, it just wouldn’t fit. How perplexing, I thought.
Ah, but it hit me like a wall of dicks: the pinky. Yes, I knew what I had to do. Needless to say, she was surprised. They don’t call it the shocker for nothing. Needless to say, she screamed and punched me in the frenulum. But that’s beside the point, the point is that my pinky did fit. And isn’t that what really matters? Just because the prior author has never had such a memorable and romantic experience as sticking any of his fingers into various orifices doesn’t mean you too should remove your pinkies. And what about one of the finer pleasures in life, looking classy? The pinky is the ultimate tool to make you look fancy. Did you learn nothing from the 5th episode of Spongebob Squarepants? Whether you’re eating or drinking, simply raising the pinky can add copious amounts of class and pretentiousness to any meal, snack, tea-time, or post-coital luncheon, impressing all of those plebians around you who lack your degree of class. If we abandon our pinkies, we abandon our reservations on class and any acknowledgment that
some human beings are better than others. Indeed, our very system of classes ranging from piss-poor to piss-rich would be endangered by the barbaric act of pinky removal, thereby destroying our biases and judgments. A terrible thought, indeed. Female pleasure is all well and good, but even males like a little rear action to spice up a blowjob or the occasional rimjob-handjob combo. There are few things worse in the world than having your messy climax into your significant other’s mouth/ nose/eye interrupted or outright ruined by the absence of a pinky in your ass. The cultured reader would suggest butt plugs or the possible herbal insert to increase potency as a substitute, but there are few things as good as a gyrating, lubed-up pinky for getting one’s rocks off. If we cut off our pinkies, we’re deliberately inhibiting our sexual lives, and for the liberated, lustful student such as the ones at William and Mary, keeping one’s sexuality under wraps is positively unthinkable. I’d hate to see what I’d feel like if a girl refused to engage in
intercourse with me after I introduced myself and perhaps complimented her once or twice on her appearance or choice of clothing. I mean, let’s be real here: I read about this stuff in Cosmopolitan magazine. They know what they’re talking about. Now, I’m sure a few impressionable readers already removed their pinkies after being convinced by the the prior argument, but think about all of the negative impacts that would have, despite the positives it seems to offer. At the very least, find a happy medium. Cut off only one pinky, but keep the other for the rare occasion when you need to finger someone’s butthole or scratch the itch on the rim of your nose, in that order. And, if nothing else, think about those who could use those spare pinkies. Donate them to a hospital or sell it on the black market for $2,000 dollars, just remember to ice it after cutting it off! In this day and age of modernization and streamlining, we can’t forget to be environmentally conscious and attempt to recycle whenever possible. §
THE FIRST ANNUAL
Best Residence Hall
LIPS LIPS: Expressions of Female Sexuality, is this years winner hands down of the illustrious Best Publication award. Since its inception in 2007, this magazine/ scrapbook has striven to shake the foundations of patriarchy and break its vice-grip on the vagina. This latest spring edition was bright, badass, and included pictures of actual boobies. Congratulations!
Best Administrator Mark Constantine
Best Coffee Shop THE DAILYy GRIND
Mark Constantine is the Assistant Vice President for Student Activities, and don’t you forget it! His Office is, actually, probably one of the most important and useful on campus, and has its hands in basically every activity you do here. He’s got a great ‘stache, and plus, he was really helpful in getting the Squat funded!
(This is not a picture of Unit D.)
Shout out to the amazing bros and broettes who live every goddamn day with the super-wonderful company of their Greek friends! Unit D offers piss-stained, probably condemned housing in close proximity to sweat, glow-sticks, and conveniently placed pools of vomit! Home to notorious frat-surfing rogues, this home of the homeless deserves a pat on the back!
Best In Show
The Mountain Goats
Grinding its way into first place, this hip, fun, laid-back, chill-ass, doobie-smokin’, swagged out, bad-ass, delicious-ass motherfucker serves the best goddamn coffee and assorted delights you will ever munch on/sip on in your entire life. Be real, go to the Grind, order up a goddamn mocha frappe and a breakfast sandwich.
WCWMFest was legendary, largely due to Botetourt Squat sponsorship, but the highlight of the affair was John Darnielle’s ball-busting performance before the less-spectacular Walkmen. The audience screamed out the lyrics to song after song, particularly that one fucking guy, just getting crazy into that shit. Everyone knew that one line from “No Children.” It was beautiful.
~ KAVEH ~
Best Worst Song: Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen I threw a wish in the well, Don’t ask me, I’ll never tell, I looked to you as it fell, And now you’re in my way, I’d trade my soul for a wish, Pennies and dimes for a kiss, I wasn’t looking for this, But now you’re in my way, Your stare was holdin’, Ripped jeans, skin was showin’, Hot night, wind was blowin’, Where you think you’re going, baby? Hey, I just met you, And this is crazy, But here’s my number, So call me, maybe?
Ruined bedazzled critics and non-assholes alike with its stark and beautiful portrayal of the female experience in the Congo. Shout out to the greatest ASMs ever!
Best Readership The Botetourt Squat
We’d like to take this space to thank our wonderful readers for all their love and support throughout the long, terrifying year, in which we gained, lost, and subsequently regained precious school funding. Your support was steadfast, and we literally love you. You gave us enough money out of pocket to publish three beautiful issues, read our bullshit (for better or worse), and congratulated us on our success even when things appeared darkest. We may still die, but we live now with the knowledge that some of you read every word. Here’s a treat: youtube.com/watch?v=cF7FXdXIK4A
SUNG HERO UNSUNG HERO Cleftomaniacs
The fucken’ Cleftos scooped this award away from other illustrious acapella groups like the Gentlemen of the College, who have held the award for the previous 150 years. They stole our hearts with their precious rendition of “Carry On Wayward Son” at Wren Ten and pretty much every other performance they’ve done.
Cleftos, oh yeah!
Co-Rec IM Refs