WUnderground
APRIL 22, 2025
BURIED WUNDERGROUND
Simone Biles Admits She’s Just Here for the 121st Anniversary of 1904 Olympics
Confused Conservatives United in Stand Against Male Gaze
PRICE: FREE (LUIGI)
Andrew Martin Middle Name Revealed to be Lockheed
Andrew Martin, inaugurated as WashU’s fifteenth chancellor in 2018, is a renowned political scientist known for his research on the Supreme Court and how to say a lot in an email without saying anything at all. Behind closed doors, however, Martin leads a quiet life…and hides a big secret. In a recent interview, Martin accidentally let slip his elusive middle name: Lockheed. Yes, Chancellor Martin is the great grandson of Glenn L. Martin and the heir to the family fortune.
“I was surprised to learn about his ties to the militaryindustrial complex,” Dean of Students Rob Wild said, “but not that surprised, because Chancellor Martin is the bomb!”
Nation’s Remaining Eggs Fit Conveniently in One Basket
Workday Student Infested With AI Rats
AGL Protests DUC Kalamata Station
Grad Student WILD Tickets Can Now Be Paid for In 4 Monthly Installments Courtesy of Klarna Corner 17 Linekeeper to Dybvig: “Keep it Movin’!”
Others are not as happy with the revelation. Figures in the McKelvey School of Engineering have expressed concern for how Martin’s ties to Lockheed Martin could upset WashU’s relationship
with Boeing, a major aerospace competitor. “I would hate for such a strong industry connection to be damaged for our recent graduates,” McKelvey Dean Aaron Bobick said. “These young engineers have spent years learning how to put aside their moral convictions for a job. We wouldn’t want all that training to be for naught.”
When pressed further about his lineage after the initial slip-up, Martin grew sheepish. “Well, given all the hubbub about Boeing last
spring, I thought it best to keep my middle name on the DL,” Martin confessed in a visibly distressed state as he took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “It’s enough that students are asking me to divest from a company that the school is not actually invested in. What’re they gonna do next—ask me to divest from my family?”
Representatives at Lockheed Martin could not be reached for comment.
Tariff Wartime Correspondence
WUnderground archaeologists uncovered this letter buried deep within the bitcoin mines and have delivered it to you, here, in unadulterated fashion.
My darling Dearest Gertie, I have written you most oft in recent times, the front lines have been bleak and dangerous…Our lieutenant has given us nothing but back-breaking labor and our rations have been dwindling as we fight
this great, great war. My only solace has been gazing upon our wedding photos, Gertie… I fancy we will be here for some more time despite this, but only the Lord knows how much we shall have to endure.
The Chinese have advanced their position once more today as well as the Europeans, no-one seems to be backing down–it sends shivers down my spine. All of this violence for naught, so many devastated and for what? If but only these horrific tariffs would stop. Each new day of this trade war my faith, drive, and bank account dwindle lower each and every day. I pray for this bloodshed to end and for my TEMU™ dropshipping business to regain its razor-thin profit margins. Our glorious King-Emperor Donald J. Trump does not realise the damage he is causing to the truest, most discriminated against members of our society, TEMU™ dropshippers, and I pray for a swift return to
the old order.
I do not know how much longer I can hold on, but for you Gertie, I must. I know how much it upsets you to hear of my sorrows as you take care of our eighteen succulents and genetically-modified feline companion, but let not my dismay disillusion you. Your light inspires me in these troubling times and I long to feel your warm embrace once more. Together we shall persevere and carve out a life for ourselves, one of love, kindness, and lowquality TEMU™ products.
Give everyone at home my best love, I often think about you all.
Yours most lovingly as always forever,
Rupert “Chaz” Goldsworth
OP-ED: Can’t a Girly Just Vent in the Group Chat?
By Pete Hegseth
Ugh okay. I wasn't going to say anything but now since everyone is on my case I guess I’ll speak my truth. I was going to be mature and keep this in the chat but the haters have spoken and it's time I establish some healthy boundaries (along the southern border).
The Houthis have been soooo annoying. I get it, you're rebels, you have grievances, you want to disrupt trade or whatever, but honestly it was such pick-me behavior. I was literally walking to JD’s office to borrow some eye-liner for my “GRWM to send ICE to a pre-school video” when everyone was like “we need you in the situation room” blah blah. Missile here, drone there, it's enough already. Suddenly the Red Sea is in its main character era. Absolutely not, I had just finished my morning Hailey Bieber Strawberry Glaze Smoothie and was not about to lock in in the war room, so I just texted in our group chat “girl-bombed too close to the sun����” to vibe check this situation. Little did I know, there was a SNITCH in the group chat.
weaponized therapy speak
Pete Hegseth win win! PH
And not even a hot one. Like if you’re gonna take screenshots of me literally emotionally processing regional instability with my girls at least look good doing it. Was it a national security breach? Technically, yes but it's not my fault I’m a multifaceted leader who feels deeply and bombs decisively.
Girls say it with me: the group chat is a safe space where we should all be able to send memes, screenshots, and our plans to strike Yemen. This is our no judgement zone where I feel free to be me, and this fugly journalist slut from the Atlantic totally crossed my personal boundaries.
He literally screenshotted my digital diary and now suddenly everyone’s like “oh Pete shouldn’t
be in charge of missiles” and “Pete shouldn’t assign airstrikes like they’re Secret Santa.” Like okay?? Maybe I said “sending love and two destroyers to the Gulf ��.” That’s just my tone and if you can’t understand it, you can leave.
So yeah, I may have leaked sensitive security information, but you know what? I did it with intention and heart. None of you bitches could have the tits to do that. I'm an Aries OKAY?!? Like I've learned in therapy, WE ALL COPE DIFFERENTLY.
Anyways I'm taking some time off to go off the grid. But before I do, please be sure to accept my Partiful invite “Strike Night: Hard Launching IYKYK”
Musk, Vance Plan Dance Begging POTUS for Sleepover, Insiders Report
WASHINGTON, D.C. — In the wake of the Trump administration’s sweeping immigration reform and budget cuts, the Oval Office has been uncharacteristically swarmed with visitors, journalists, and advisors since the inauguration. Yet this past Friday night, access to the President and his inner circle was closed in a surprise move from the typically vocal administration.
“We thought it had to have been an emergency meeting,” said Joseph Shope, a longtime local
reporter who has covered the White House for the Washington Hispanic since 1987. Shope says he has seen scandal, crisis, and terrorist attack, but never something “so unusual” as what he witnessed through the windows of the West Wing.
Shope’s testimony is astounding: “After [Secret Service] shoved us out, we lost our cameras and notepads. Me and a few of the local guys pretended to be trees on the lawn for a few hours until dark […] once we were sure no one could see us, we snuck up to the window and we saw the VP and Elon doing a dance in onesies for Trump. Vance was in a green [Minecraft] creeper onesie, and Musk’s was a blue robot type theme. They were the type that zip up all the way to the top, so there’s a mask, but they weren’t zipped all the way during the dance.”
According to other reporters who have requested anonymity for fear of losing their press passes, the
Vice President was clearly in charge of the choreography, as Musk continued to “mess up the moves.” Others described Vance as “girl-bossy” and “demanding.”
A source familiar with the White House claimed to have heard “Taste” by Sabrina Carpenter on the speakers next to Trump’s desk, but those reports are still in dispute.
Most interestingly, the dance culminated with Vance and Musk begging on their knees for what seemed to be a sleepover—Shope claims he heard Musk even promise to “be good this time.” While the President’s reaction could not be seen from Shope’s perch behind the bushes, passersby reported seeing Musk in his underwear and a “sleep shirt” leaving the White House the next morning, indicating Trump responded positively to the choreography. The White House declined to comment on the matter.
Domestic Violence or Domestic Terrorism: The Gray Zone of Polyamorous Abuse
I’m your normal Seattle resident. I work (as a freelance intimacy coordinator for local BIPOC Dungeons and Dragons campaigns), I pray (to Korean drag queen Jesus; in our Bible, Mo-Sis vogued through the desert for 40 years looking for a Hunk, until Jesus of Gagzareth saved us all for the sin of poorly applied wig glue), and I’ve been blessed with matrimony (to 63 beautiful she/theys). I’m your average American, yet the government has decided to destroy me (just like the indigenous population). My story is not a happy one, and should serve (purr) as a drastic warning of what happens when government overreach goes too far. One day I came house (it was no
longer a home) and found that three of our Polycule’s subs had unionized. I was distraught. Who knew all those communist book clubs would actually come back to bite me (no intimacy coordinator)? In my autistic gamer rage I expressed myself physically, as most with my condition
do, and soon I was being unfairly held by the carceral state. The government’s goons–without any attempt to reach out to me morally, as a rational actor–locked me up, and levied ridiculous charges of “domestic violence” against me. I don’t even believe in borders those fascist fucks. However, after the prosecutor (she/ her/hers) found out about the polycule dynamic, she upped the charges from “violence” to “terrorism.” At first I thought it was due to my ethically sourced Peruvian alpaca silk keffiyeh, which I wore proudly under my shirt during arraignment. However, it turns out my charges were raised due to my “significant use of
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The news reported by this paper is fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living, ailing or dead is entirely intentional.
OVERLORDS
Presidents
Celia Rattner, Adam Kirsch
Editor-in-Chief
Ashna Ramiah
Treasurer
Neil Chavan
Social Chair
Ella Majd
Townsend Baird
Ashna Ramiah
Shira Aronow
Nicole Backal
Townsend Baird
Riley Card
Chirag Choudhary
Ruby Cover
Rafe Epstein
Hannah Gallin
Nina Giraldo
Emma Hait
Solveig Hicks
Paul Kuemmel
Solly Lerman
Jacob Libin
Eli Litman
Ellie Perlmutter
Patrick Riley
Sydney Schneider
Diya Shadaksharappa
Elie Weitzman
Alex Wills
Follow or block us on Instagram @wunderground.washu violence and intimidation” of my polycule, and the greater Seattle community. There isn’t much more to be said. The Nazis have won. I write this now as an artifact of freedom that will one day be uncovered by future generations as proof that liberty once existed. My GoFundMe has been put at the bottom of this article–please help a martyr out. And if you are interested in subletting my primary bedroom (no, the role of “primary” in the polycule does not come with the room), I will offer you a discounted rate of 3,000 dollars a month.
OP-ED: Have You Ever Been Here?
You just needed a class that would fulfill your cultural requirements. Turns out that your Wisconsin public school Spanish teacher, Mrs. Johnson, didn’t prepare you super well for a college-level language class. So you clicked the LCD filter on WebSTAC (rip) and scrolled mindlessly until you saw it. It was perfect. An art history class with a clickbait title, a professor with a 4.5 rating, and a nice familiar focus on Europe. It was so simple, a chance to look at pretty pictures without actually challenging yourself with multiculturalism. Of course, it would be difficult, but heck, ain’t that what school is for?
Fast forward three months, and you’re sitting in Kranzberg library wondering if you should just let the mobile stacks crush you to death. You’ve been in the library for 7 hours and have actually checked out books; you haven’t done
that since college writing. Eleven chapters on Prussian forks later, and you still can’t finish writing the introduction. It sounded fun, “Bratwursts, Sauerkraut, and Schnitzel: The Portrayal of German Foods in Art.” You never thought you’d have to pick a research topic so niche that ChatGPT malfunctions when you ask about it.
Yet here you are, emailing PhD students at Austrian universities to access their theses from five years ago. You’re a chemistry major; you don’t care about art or history or anything in between. You just wanted to prove that STEM students are well-rounded, and now you’re knee-deep in useless facts about pickling. It’s not like you wanted to put so much effort into that class. But, as you learned after your first assignment, your professor doesn’t think that reddit.com/r/artfacts/ is a reliable source, and now you’re
fighting for an A-. You would have changed it to pass/fail if you hadn’t spent the first half of the semester trying different types of sausage.
It used to be so simple: skipping lectures and waiting to cram the night before, taking the Thursday flight to UMich, visiting your Sigma Pi boyfriend, and doing your Bio quiz on FaceTime with your friends. Now you have class Tuesdays and Thursdays at 6 pm, and Adam is dating someone in Gamma Chi. Your mother couldn’t be happier, now you might actually date a nice Jewish boy who goes to Chabad every Friday, but you can’t even go to Shabbat because all your assignments are due at midnight. Your father keeps telling you that you’re wasting his money, that you could have picked up a language and gotten a leg up on med school apps. He hasn’t been proud of you since the violin incident of 2017.
Now, the semester is ending, and you are staring down a Goliath of a 20-page paper with no end in sight. You could have taken Cultural Anthropology. Instead, you challenged yourself, and for what? Fun facts about potato agriculture in the 19th century? A Kemper museum pencil? A pen pal from Salzburg named Felix Gruber? Hopefully, they’ll come in handy on your next visit to Deutschland.
Recently Discovered Buddhist Text Says You Only Come Back Twice
Today an archeological and theological discovery has left the world stunned. Through a multiyear investigative campaign on the life of The Buddha, archeologist Mike Crack, has found hidden texts that completely re-contextualize the seminal work of the world’s fourth largest religion. The “Crack Scrolls” find that, contrary to popular belief, the Buddha’s ideological spectrum is actually closer to that of a modern day American conservative, and that all the “nonsense” about infinite rebirth and lack of attachment is actually a massive translation error. In fact, according to quotes from the Buddha himself, while humans do get reincarnated, they only get “two chances: that’s it.” Further, if you don’t achieve enlightenment in these two chances you go to “Buddhist hell, which is way worse than other hells caus-” (the rest of the text is lost to time.) Other crucial maxims to Buddhist literature have been revolutionized as well due to discovered passages like: “All life is suffering? Bro my blood sugar was like SO low when I wrote that.
Forget that. Life is awesome. Or at least was, until those fucking immigrants came to my town. God I hope they’re on their second life when I get to them.” Conceptions of the ever sought after Nirvana have also been changed: “Everyone in Buddhist heaven has heavy naturals. I’m talking huge knockers. Even the men. Especially the men actually.”
While some lament these revisions of the spiritual haven, some Buddhist leaders are leaning into this new philosophy. The Dalai Lama recently bought a Ford F-150 with mods and has begun selling merchandise that says “Learn like it’s your First Life, Party like it’s Your Second.” As the religious world reels from these new discoveries, the economy has never been better, as practitioners now splurge on the free market in order to align better with the neo-Buddhist literature which states: “All possessions are equal? Bro I was just saying that because it was my birthday, dude you think I actually liked Tenzin’s flute as much as Gyatso’s stripper? She was all like “ohh how do you like my gyattSo, and she even stayed an extra hour in my
SO BRAVE
yurt because she liked my vibe and multitude of yaks. Now SHE gives first life energy. I should hawk her. Go get my hawk.” Paleographers note that this document corroborates another document found 15km away reading “Hey wanna smoke? They don’t call me BUDda for no reason haha. This is like my fifthhawk can you please respond. Please hawk me. Hawk Tuah haha. That’ll make sense in like nine thousand years. I think I love you.”
TOWNSEND
11. Whole milk
7. Guitar Hero
6. Switching back to Canada Goose from Moncler
5. Puxsatawny Phil’s shadow
4. Lady Gaga in Billboard 100
3. Lack of tents around campus 2. Divorced parents
1. Going exclusive with your situationship
"Abschluss in dieser Wirtschaft?" from france
"Good morning and goodbye washu, let’s basketb-” 6'5" and loves womens's literature
"I feel super connected to love. I think this experience has shown me you never know how much love is inside of you until you graduate." out of this world
"Most of the joy in life is about being the guy who calls
ADAM
"Tassel is just run by the AI rats" minored in r/ conspiracies, majored in warming our hearts
"Once we put a shark in the pool. He had fun but still didn't want a stake in Hydrogen Water" learned lots but not how to swim
CELIA
“Body like Einstein, brains like Britney”
SOLVEIG
ASHNA
"I stepped on the seal and was promptly escorted out of the Saint Louis Zoo" my hero; inventor of sunshine and birdsong
PAUL
ELLIE
spirit like a cool summer breeze
ELIE
shotgun. The rest is hogwash." took an L
ARMOUR VS STRIKE: THE 2025 INDIE-OFF
WashU has been the site of many historic competitions–the 1904 Olympics, the second 2016 presidential debate between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, the BD employees vs the KSig eggs, etc. None of these, however, holds a candle to the anticipated ferocity of our school’s upcoming duel, a conflict sure to result in epic devastation and completely alter the social fabric of WashU as we know it. I speak, of course, of the Armour v Strike Magazine Indie-Off.
In preparation for this cataclysmic showdown, both publications have retreated into their respective creative bunkers (read: lairs deep within the Goodwill Bins and Pinterest), plotting strategy and–more importantly–layering sweaters, corset tops, and skinny ties. Tensions are high. So are most staff members (thanks to the friendly neighborhood SNU drug dealer). Rumors swirl that Armour has recently acquired a vintage fax machine to send moodboards, while Strike has allegedly banned the use of coherent color palettes on principle. The stakes? Well, none—no one has actually ever read Armour or Strike— but don’t tell them that. This is about aesthetic dominance—and there can only be one winner.
Competitors will be subjected to a series of Herculean tests of their indieness, including:
- Mastery of applying the label of “Basquiat”-esque to a picture of three freshmen girls wearing glitter and doing their best “Blue Steele”
- Testing the extent of their void of knowledge about methods of holding up one’s pants
- Do they know what a belt is?
(Disqualification)
- Have they ever owned a belt?
(Disqualification)
- Has a family member of theirs ever owned a belt?
(Disqualification)
- Have they ever used a shoelace to try and hold up their pants?
(Aw, so cute, that’s not how holding up pants works!–-points for adorableness)
- Crypticness of Instagram cap-
tions (ex. “the paradigm awaits…”; “june was a blur. so was she.”; “do not disturb the archive” )
- Timed competition to take as many fish-eye lens photographs of skinny girls posing as angularly as possible
- Ability to incorporate as many people as is humanly possible on a photoshoot that ostensibly should only need three or four people. Staff members should have titles eluding all understanding of what they might actually do, such as:
* Executive Director of Experimental Photography and Developmental Production
This person’s job is to check the email
* Associate Chair of Artistic Outreach and Community Vendor Diversity
This person’s job is to use the SU credit card to buy lingerie
* Administrative Coordinator of Student Aesthetic Production with a Focus on Avant-Garde
Public Performance Advancement
This person’s job is to spam the GroupMe
- Such abhorrent misuse of the term “baby tee” that it is clear they have never seen, met, or even perhaps been, a human baby
- Generating out-there photoshoot ideas such as:
* Making two girls kiss
* Making three girls kiss
* Making a girl climb a tree, and she’s wearing really dark eyeliner, and now she’s screaming… and what’s that?...omg, is she…. OH MY GOD SHE’S DOING IT, SHE’S KISSING ANOTHER GIRL
INDIE-OFF JUDGES WILL IN-
CLUDE:
1. Kevin, a former Armour editorin-chief best remembered for his conceptual shoots, “What a Drag: Cigarettes and Gender Performance in the Shadow of Lacanian Theory” and “EGirl, E-Boy, E-Ghost: Digital Afterlives and the Ontology of Deleted TikToks.” Kevin now heads Exxon Mobil’s North American office.
2. The boyfriend of one of the Strike Creative Directors, a 30 year-old DJ/In-
stagram poet who is currently “exploring radical liminality and disrupting the hegemony.”
3. A student currently staging a piece of performance art in which they play a judge.
4. Steve Harvey
5. The AI bot that actually writes both magazines’ copy.
FAQ:
How do I get tickets to the indie-off?
If you look very carefully in the bottom left hand corner of a certain Strike CD’s film-dump Instagram account, you will see the unmistakable silhouette of a thin sophomore boy who wears vintage 90s track pants and only listens to unreleased YouTube rap. Go to his apartment. Knock three times, pausing six seconds between each knock. If it is a Thursday, he will answer the door. When he asks you why you’re there, incorrectly misquote Roland Barthes or Theodor Adorno. Compliment his Rothko print. Connect that conversation to the fashion design in The Fast and The Furious: Tokyo Drift (2006). He will be pleased. Go home. Think about something else. In three to five business days, check your mailbox. Also, Venmo WUnderground $50 (this is a crucial step, don’t forget this).
What should I wear to the indie-off?
If you have to ask, you probably shouldn’t be going…but a safe bet is always papier-maché or chain-metal. And make sure to style these materials in either an office siren or mob wife way.
Will refreshments be served?
While there will be food there (champagne tower and heart-shaped cake), it will only be used to feed Instagram stories, not guests. However, there will be one vape everyone can hit.
I’m neither a gay son nor a thot daughter–can I still come? No.
Even if I’m a male manipulator? Hmph ... .alright, alright ... .you can come…
Let the battle begin, and may the loosest pants win.
OP-ED: Thurtene Honorary Uses Family Carnival to Push the Homosexual Agenda
cult members prance around campus dressed like
your third grade brother in P.E. class on a mile run day. I’ve always known Thurtene Honorary to be the devil incarnate, but this year, my curiosity unearthed something much more sinister at play.
Thurtene markets their carnival as a family-friendly affair aiming to, per their website, “make a positive impact on the community.” This messaging appears quite contradictory alongside their group insignia, which depicts a particularly demonic skull likely to feature prominently in your (child’s) nightmares. Ultimately, however, there is only one real “impact” with which Thurtene seems to be concerned—the propagation of sin. That’s right. You heard it here first. Thurtene Carnival is a pride parade in disguise…if the disguise were a bright yellow rain jacket.
Those festive flags of pink, yellow, and blue aren’t merely for decoration. No, those are pansexual pride flags, flapping in the wind like inflatable tube men to compel innocent attend-
ees to cross over to the dark side. Just to enjoy the Gee Wizz, an antigravity amusement ride, visitors are forced to face a menacing mural of bisexuality. And, worst of all, those school-bus-resembling radicals frolic through the carnival grounds disseminating their godless ideology like rejected members of the Manson Family. That carnival is riddled with moral pestilence, and it’s high time we all knew about it.
WUnderground readers, we can no longer sit idly by and allow these deviants to corrupt our sacred campus. I encourage you all to think twice before pouring your precious pennies into that sacrilegious fruit fest— even God’s incessant downpour of tears couldn’t stave them off. When those fences come up next spring, I will not be removing myself from the DUC parking lot. I invite you all to join me—in solidarity and in the name of God. Together, we can pray the gay away.
OPINIONS
Point: They discovered life on a distant planet
Counterpoint: It doesn't share our sense of humor
gee i hope they like me!
As a WashU student and St. Louis community member, I, like many of you, despise Thurtene Carnival. I hate having to arrive on campus fifteen minutes earlier than usual to account for my treacherous hike to campus from the music library parking lot. I abhor watching Thurtene’s smug
pictured: the sinfully tempting attractions in question