The First-Year Issue

Vol. 148, No. 1

THE YALE

Aug. 28, 2019

RECORD The First-Year Issue

“The Nation’s Oldest Humor Magazine” or

“The Nation’s Most Humorous Old Magazine” Join us:

Chair@yalerecord.org

BREAKING: THE BONES OF THE IDIOT PRE-FROSH WHO THOUGHT IT’D BE COOL TO JAYWALK ON ELM STREET Dear NSA, In case you were listening to my last phone conversation I would just like to set something straight. When I said “send me strippers and pronto” what I actually meant was “I love my wife, who works at the NSA.” This is a common mishearing and it is probably due to poor service, because I spent all my phone bill money on strippers.

Love, Phil

IF LAUGHTER IS THE BEST MEDICINE, WHY DID I GET KICKED OUT OF THE BURN WARD FOR TICKLING PATIENTS?

Dear Mom, I’m so excited to be at Bulldog Days! Things are great and it’s gonna be such a safe and fun week. Gotta go, crossing the street!

Sincerely, A Prefrosh

SAFE SEX WIN! THIS FIRST-YEAR RESPONSIBLY FUCKED SO MANY TIMES THAT HE HAS NO TEETH LEFT TO GIVE THE CONDOM FAIRY

“IT REALLY DO BE LIKE THAT SOMETIMES,” REPORTS FOURTHGENERATION LEGACY WITH A THOUSAND-DOLLAR WEEKLY ALLOWANCE AND A GUARANTEED INTERNSHIP AT MCKINSEY NEXT SUMMER

Dear CNN, There can’t be a financial crisis.

My Dad just bought me a horse!

Sincerely, The Tory Party of Yale Obituary Correction

Dear prefrosh, ZOOM ZOOM MOTHERFUCKER!

The Yale Record Editorial Board would like to apologize for an erroneous obituary in a previous issue of the magazine. The editors confused Stephen Hawking with skateboarder Tony Hawk, misidentifying the late theoretical physicist as “X Games champion and founder of the ‘Boom Boom HuckJam’ BMX freestyle motocross tour.”

AUSCHWITZ IS CANCELED: WHY WEREN’T THERE MORE WOMAN GUARDS?!

YOUR AD CAN'T GO HERE

Sincerely, A Car

CLEARLY THIS SPOT'S TAKEN, DUMBASS

NEW: O

--Is Se

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DON’T MEET YOUR HEROES: CHRIS PRATT TURNED OUT TO BE A TOTAL JERK WHEN I TRIED TO GIVE HIS SON A RIDE HOME FROM KINDERGARTEN Dear Donut Crazy, Are your donuts crazy because you add a crazy amount of toppings?

Sincerely, A Curious Consumer

Dear Professor, I’ll do anything to take your seminar, how can I get in?

Sincerely, Sad Shopper

FUCK THE POLICE! NO REALLY, FUCK THE POLICE! OUR OFFICERS ARE VERY HORNY AND NEED A BLOWJOB AND SOME HOT ASS!

WHY WE SHOULDN’T PIT WOMEN AGAINST EACH OTHER, EXCEPT AT HAROLD’S HOUSE OF MUD WRESTLING: HOT, MUDDY, EXTREME!

Dear Sad Shopper, Bring me a six-page treatise on how well I write syllabi, the head of your second favorite suitemate, and a plate of pecan brownies, and you’ve got yourself a seat.

Warm Regards, Professor

Dear Curious Consumer, That is quite a perceptive observation! But our donuts are crazy for a different reason. As you may know, we also sell topping-less donuts such as our glazed and old fashioned donuts, which would not be ‘crazy’ under your definition. The real reason our donuts are so crazy is because we put a crazy amount of love into them.

Love, Donut Crazy

REPRESENTATION WIN! THIS LESBIAN IS GOOD AT KARAOKE AND NOW ALL HER FRIENDS THINK IT’S A LESBIAN THING

THE NEW ANTI-VAXXERS? WE INJECTED OUR CHILDREN WITH GROWTH HORMONES SO THEY CAN PUNCH THEIR DISEASES AWAY LIKE GOOD CHRISTIAN MEN

Dear Umbrellas, What’s the hardest thing about your job?

Sincerely, Wyatt

A FITTING TRIBUTE: I JUST DROVE DRUNK TO MY DAD’S FUNERAL Dear Wyatt, Having to shelter someone with a stupid fucking name like Wyatt.

Sincerely, Umbrellas

T he C orporate merica I ssue T he 2019 F irstA-Y ear I ssue

Obituary Correction The RecordBoard Editorial Board would like to The Yale Editorial would like to apologize apologize for an erroneous in a previous for an erroneous obituaryobituary in a previous issue of the magazine. misreported that issue of the magazine.The Theissue editors confused Stephen legendary Evel KnievelTony “died Hawk, doing Hawking stuntman with skateboarder what he loved; an electric scooteras so“X misidentifying the riding late theoretical physicist fast offchampion a children’s skateboard that he Games and founder of theramp ‘Boom Boom crashed into the freestyle sun.” Knievel actually HuckJam’ BMX motocross tour.” died of

a pulmonary embolism.

Dear Abe Lincoln, AD Only YOUR a dummy gets shot in the back CAN'T of the head.GO You should’ve HEREbuilt away or at least set a trap. No wonder CLEARLY SPOT'S you never won THIS fortnite youTAKEN, noob.

DUMBASS Sincerely, Timmy

WTF?? THE EVENING IS SPREAD OUT AGAINST THE SKY LITERALLY EXACTLY LIKE A PATIENT ETHERIZED UPON A TABLE!

My dearest Margaret, It has been too long since I --Shampoo-have seen --Conditioner-your lovely face, and I am --Body Wash-only comforted by your image in my --Lighter Fluid-dreams.The battle here has been long --Is Self-Aware And Can Do Your Taxes-and treacherous, but it will have been Normal Skin!” the chance worth“Great theforfight if toitOily means to see you again.

Forever yours, Thomas

3

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A FITTING TRIBUTE: THIS MUPPETS FAN HAD JIM HENSON SHOVE HIS HAND UP THEIR ASS Dear Thomas, Lol that’s craazyyy. War really be wild lmao. We should hang out soon lol. <3, Margaret

yalerecord.org, for more hilarious content!

FOR SALE:

1872 College humor publication.

Runs great, inspection report available. Minor fender bender. Cash only.

—R. Chang

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Dear Yale Facilities, I hate to say it, but I took another fatty dump in the Bass bathroom and that shit is clogged for the third time this week.

—Benny

A FITTING TRIBUTE: I JUST DID AN AMAZING STEPHEN HAWKING IMPRESSION WHILE HAVING SEX WITH THE SCHOOL NURSE Dear Benny, For the third time this week, your “fatty dump” would not have clogged the pipes if you had done it in the toilet like a normal person and not in the sink. I don’t know how you made it to Yale without learning how to poop.

—Yale Facilities

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LENT FTW! I GAVE UP MY ANTIDEPRESSANTS FOR FORTY DAYS AND NOW I CAN GET HARD FOR PASTOR MIKE AGAIN

Dear The Lifeguard, I simply cannot shave them, for when each hair is cut, two stronger hairs grow back in its place. Please, Lifeguard, let me swim. Just this once.

Sincerely, Lazarus

Dear Lazarus, You are required to shave your legs if you wish to compete in the Swimming Tournament. Your lower limbs are far too hairy to enter the public pool. Our drains are pretty much clogged as is.

—The Lifeguard

RELIGIOUS INTOLERANCE? THIS CATHOLIC SCHOOL HAD ME ARRESTED AFTER I NAILED 95 LUTHERAN CHILDREN TO THE DOOR

Obituary Correction The RecordBoard Editorial Board would like to The Yale Editorial would like to apologize for an erroneous obituaryobituary in a previous issue apologize for an erroneous in a previous ofissue theofmagazine.

The editors the magazine.

The editorsconfused confused Stephen Stephen Hawkingwith with skateboarder Hawking skateboarder Tony Tony Hawk, Hawk, misidentifying theoretical physicist misidentifying the the latelate theoretical physicist as “X as “X Gamesand champion founder Games champion founderand of the ‘Boom of Boom the ‘Boom Boom Huckjam’ BMX HuckJam’ BMX freestyle motocross tour.”freestyle

motocross tour.

DearOld Lazarus, NEW: Spice Men’s 5 in 1 Shower Gel

Fine. --Shampoo-But make it snappy. And if --Conditioner-any higher-ups at the public pool come --Body Wash-asking questions, you and I never even --Lighter Fluid---Is Self-Aware And Can Do Your Taxes-met.

Sincerely, “Great for Normal to Oily Skin!”

The Lifeguard

YOUR AD CAN'T GO HERE CLEARLY THIS SPOT'S TAKEN, DUMBASS

—R. Chang

Emmy Waldman ‘11

H

ey, kid! Yeah you, the one reading this issue of the Yale Record. Wanna know something? You are beautiful inside and out. You are loved. You belong here. Grasp these pages in your youthful hands and let our Premium Glossy Bright-White Paper slip through your unfledged fingertips. We paid so goddamn much for this paper. This paper is for you—never forget that.

Wanna hear a secret? Okay, lean in close.

“Four, Nine, Five. Five Three. Seven Seven, Two Four.” What do these seemingly unrelated words have in common? Are they all numbers between zero and nine?

They are. Are they the ages of nine happy little Montessori students in a multi-age classroom? Indeed. Yet in a much deeper sense, these words are my Social Security Number.

This is an exercise in trust. I have exposed myself to you, Dear Reader, as intimately as I know how: by revealing my government-issued identification code. This is also a demonstration of my Number One Golden Life Rule: the more good you put into the world, the more good you get out. Here’s a great example: even if you knew about identity theft, I know you would not do identity theft to me, because you and I are now bound by an oath of love and federally funded social insurance.

Wanna know something else? Right at this moment, as you are reading the Yale Record, you are at peak intelligence. That’s right. You’re only getting dumber. The human brain contains 86 billion neurons—one neuron for each fact. By the age of eighteen, your fact-filler is fresh out of fact-filling room. Your belfry is bursting. Your cranial cap is at capacity. Over the next four years, you will gradually displace all the useful facts from your childhood (e.g. “finders keepers losers weepers”) with boring adult facts (e.g. “mixing ammonia and bleach produces hazardous levels of chloramine vapor”). If you want to retain as much useful information as possible, just follow my Number Two Golden Life Rule: read as little as possible and stay indoors at all cost.

T he C orporate merica I ssue T he 2019 F irstA-Y ear I ssue Yale is chock-full of dullardly adult facts. You’d be hard pressed to avoid them all—trust me, I’ve tried. Last semester I stopped going to class. Now I wear a blindfold around campus like kids from Birdbox just in case a wayward fact attacks me in the dining hall. Even this wasn’t enough. And no offense, Dear Reader, but you don’t look nearly as dedicated as I was.

Frankly, you look like a goddamn pushover who “listens to their Froco” and “enrolls in courses for Yale College credit.”

Consider yourself warned.

You might decide to study “chemistry” and start clogging your cranium with gobbledygook like “how to prevent fires in the lab” and “how to put out fires in the lab.” You might study “history” and start bursting your brains with poppycock like “what is Russia” and “who won the Civil War.” You might even study “art” and start cramming your coconut with claptrap like “what is the best way to do art.” This brings me to my Number Three Golden Life Rule: the best way to do art is with a CraZ-Art Magic Spin Painter.

Wanna hear something fascinating? Okay, listen carefully: “First-Year.” “First grade.” “First communion.” “First World War.” “First fiddle.” “First man on the moon.” What do these randomly selected phrases all have in common? Are they palindromes? Maybe, I haven’t checked. Are they places I’ve blown chunks all over a perfectly good area rug? Only number two. Were they all faked in a top secret project by NASA and Hollywood to intimidate the Soviets during the height of the Cold War? That’s for the experts to decide. What these words really have in common is that they represent beginnings.

You, Dear Reader, are about to embark on the beginning of your Yale Journey. You were sung to by the Yale Glee Club about your “bright college years.” You received a white Maddy Blaney ’21 Chair

Amanda Thomas ’21 Managing Editor

Ethan Fogarty ’21 Business Manager

Davey McCowin ’21 Copy Editor

Ellen Yang ’20 Old Owl

handkerchief to save until graduation and then wave at your friends and family like a certified loony. You heard President Salovey’s stirring Welcome Address about how life is an hourglass and the universe is a tumbleweed and you are an aardvark, or something. These are important morsels of information that you better not fucking forget or else you’ll face immediate and irreversible expulsion from Yale College. But none of them are as important as this next piece of advice, which happens to be my fourth and final Golden Life Rule: don’t take yourself too seriously.

Look—you got into Yale. That means either (A) you are a direct descendent of the Vanderbilts, (B) you got in by mistake, or (C) you held a 4.0 GPA in high school, played multiple instruments at Carnegie Hall, and had College Confidential bookmarked on your laptop. For most of you, the answer is some version of (C). But now you’ve reached the holy land.

The gig is up! You don’t have to be a (C) anymore!

You’ll soon find there are exactly three paths to success at Yale. The first is to be a direct descendent of the Vanderbilt family. If this is your choice, we wish you the best. We’d love to be in your shoes—if not for the money, just so we could stroke Anderson Cooper’s silky white hair at Christmas dinner. Your second option is to seduce and marry a direct descendent of the Vanderbilt family. If you choose option two, we hope you find your Casanova. Slip on your most flirtatious daywear and strike up a lively debate about the S&P 500 at JE brunch. Your third and final option is to join the Yale Record. If this is your decision, we’ll see you at 9:00 p.m., Mondays, in LC 209.

Pizza will be provided.

—C. Cohen Editor in Chief

Caleb Cohen ’21 Editor in Chief

Sarah Force ’21 Managing Editor

Chloe Prendergast ’20 Old Owl

Harry Rubin ’21 Online Editor in Chief

Dylan Schifrin Luna Garcia ’20 and Will Cramer Adam ’22 Cse ’19 Director NathanofEwing-Crystal Online Content ’19 Directors Direor of of Online SpecialContent Projects and Vivek Suri ’20 VivekElliot Suri Connors ’20 Elliot Connors ’20 Vasquez ’21 DesignDesign EditorsEditor DesignMaya Editor

Dylan Schifrin ’20 Old Owl

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Noah Amsel ’20 Old Owl

Marcy Sanchez ’20 Publisher

Kaylee Walsh ’22 Managing Editor

David Hou ’22 Online Managing Editor

Rosa Chang ’22 Art Director

Maya Sanghvi ’22 Staff Director

Mariah Kreutter ’20 Old Owl

Simon Custer ’20 Old Owl

Walker Caplan ’20 Old Owl

Staff: Colin Baciocco ’21 Itai Almor ’20 Paige Davis ’21 Nick Abuzalaf ’21

Dalia Moallem ’21 Veena Muraleetharan ’20 Alex Kane ’22 Ben Lauring ’22

Jocelyn Wexler ’21 Grace Wynter ’20 Kyle Mazer ’22 Ryan Fuentes ’22

Alec Zbornak ’21 Ryan Ofman ’22 Cameron Berg ’22 Jack Adam ’21

Max Nobel ’21 Jamie Large ’21 Tom Battles ’20 Zuri Goodman ’22

Laura Koech ’21 Yonatan Greenberg ’21 Omar Zakaria ’22 Victoria Chen ’21

Please join our staff so that the design editors can fill this empty space, especially if you have a cool name like “Oslo,” or “Stephen Colbert Jr.”

Special thanks to: Will Cramer ’22, whose beautiful baby face inspired us to write relatable first-year content whenever we were feeling like old geezers.

Front Cover: Michael Holmes ’20, who also illustrates for the YDN out of charity sometimes (@shermikeholmes) Back Cover: Rosa “I’m currently abroad rn” Chang ’22, who is currently abroad rn (@rosart.c) Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CXLVIII, No. 1, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.org • Subscriptions: $50/year (print) • $10/year (electronic) All contents copyright 2019 The Yale Record, Inc. The Yale Record is a magazine produced by Yale students; Yale University is not responsible for its contents. Any resemblance to characters and events portrayed herein, without satirical intent, is purely coincidental. The Record grudgingly acknowledges your right to correspond: letters should be addressed to: Chair, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chair@yalerecord.org. Offer only valid at participating retailers while supplies last. The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.

OH, THE PLACES YOU’VE GONE Congratulations!

Today is your day.

You were in great places, Now you’ve gone away.

You have brains in your head, Or packed cleats and self-doubt, ‘Cause you paid your way here And don’t want to stick out.

You’re on your own! Let me say that again!

You’re on your own. No family or friends.

So, be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray, Or even the junior Peter Salovey, You’ve left your great places!

You’ve had your best day.

Yale’s here for you, waiting…

Don’t be scared away!

By Dr. Juice (Check out my new EP, Star-Bellied Sneetches Get Steetches, only on SoundCloud.)

—D. McCowin

You’ll look for new friends. You won’t look with care.

To most you’ll say, “I, too, went to prep school there!”

You’ll join some new clubs in the days after move-in, Or—God forbid—Yale’s Political Union.

You’ll major in comp sci if you think you’re clever Or maybe in English and be poor forever.

You’ll spend nights alone—of this I am sure.

And you’ll say on those nights, “Is this it? Is there more?”

You’ll think back to high school, when you were on top, And, desperate for love, you’ll fuck a Yale cop.

Now you may feel guilty, but you’ve done no harm, For you finally got YPD to disarm.

You won’t lag behind, you won’t even try weed.

You’ll pass all your classes, you won’t get a B. Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best!

‘Cause if you are not, then you’re bad as the rest.

—S. Ruiz

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WHAT YOUR FAVORITE REQUIRED CAMP YALE ACTIVITY SAYS ABOUT YOU Marvin Chun’s Welcome Address: You’re not sure what it is about Chun’s squeaky “ummm”s that really gets you going, but you do know that whenever that man opens his mouth you can’t help but rub his picture on the program so vigorously that your Froco has to ask you to please stop.

Move-In Day: You run a YouTube vlog called IvyGal Productions, watched exclusively by underclassmen at your high school trying to get into Yale. Your room decor video will get upwards of seven likes.

The Safe Sex Workshop: You laughed when they whipped out that wooden dildo because you wanted to seem experienced, but you called home right after the workshop to say, “Ha! Take that, Mom! You said I wouldn’t see a condom until I was thirty!”

The Extracurricular Bazaar: You weren’t super popular in high school, so you were excited to find out that singing and drama club are actually cool here. Plus you made dozens of new upperclassmen friends, and you’re excited for those weekly emails to remind you you’re not alone.

The Myth of Miscommunication Workshop: You wear a beret and have a nose piercing because you “don’t conform to society’s expectations.” You do slam poetry because “art has the power to change the world.” Naturally, you volunteered to play every role in the consent skit, and your improvised monologue about liminal spaces was so powerful it had your whole Froco group sitting in awed silence.

Bulldog Bash: You aren’t exactly sure what was up with that brownie you shared with your FOOT friend before the party. It tasted a little funky, and when the DJ started playing “I Gotta Feelin’,” you could taste sounds and hear colors. But you wouldn’t trade your rapid heartbeat and minor panic attack that night for the world.

None of them: You didn’t go to any of the scheduled events and replied “Fuck off ” to your Froco’s text telling you there was free pizza in the buttery. Yale is an elitist capitalist institution monetizing foreign debt and carbon emissions. If they want you to support to the tyrants that run this place, they know where to find you: in the corner booth at Jojo’s rereading The Communist Manifesto.

—M. Sanghvi

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FRESHMAN SCREW RENAMED TO FIRST-YEAR FUCKATHON

By E. CONNORS and A. KINNANE

NEW HAVEN, CT—In accordance with the change from “freshman” to “first-year” enacted in September, Yale administrators announced this week that the annual “Freshman Screw” would be renamed the “First-Year Fuckathon.”

“Times are changing, and now more than ever, gender inclusivity needs to be a priority,” said Dean of Student Affairs Camille Lizarribar. “The use of ‘freshman’ is outdated and perpetuates a toxic patriarchal culture that we need to dismantle. By changing ‘Freshman Screw’ to the ‘First-Year Fuckathon,’ we ensure that all gender identities are represented in this storied Yale tradition.”

The dance will feature all the classic trappings of a formal dance: photo booths, great music, and light refreshments. The only thing missing: problematic gender undertones.

“I was embarrassed to tell my friends from high school that I was going to an event with such an antiquated and misogynistic name as Freshman Screw,” said Matthew Pendergrass ’20. “‘First-Year Fuckathon’ is a name I’m proud to call home about.”

The move comes after a number of peer institutions reformed traditions in recent years to promote gender inclusivity. At Harvard, the “Freshman Olympics” were rebranded as the “First-Year Olympics of Fucking.”

Meanwhile, Brown changed its annual “Upperclassmen’s Ball” to “The Upper-Level Students’ Ball-Drain.” And perhaps most notably, at Columbia, the John Jay freshman dormitory was renamed to “The Fuck Palace.”

Lizarribar commended the First-Year Class Council’s work to enact the change. “It just goes to show what can be accomplished when you get everybody in the same room and the juices start flowing.”

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STEAMY PICK-UP LINES FOR FIRST-YEARS

Bourne, the course was taught by a dumpy man in a red polo shirt with a nametag that said “Larry, Store I got waitlisted, so I’m into foreplay.

General Manager.” I didn’t even realize I had read the Hey babe, wanna come back to my place and make a wrong Blue Book when I signed into OCS to switch double legacy? my Buddhism class to credit/D after Larry told me Cars in New Haven at Bulldog Days aren’t the only things participation was graded, and the site read, “You are that smash first-years. not currently enrolled in this institution.”

My body is a temple...only Jews come in me.

DO study hard for the mandatory reading test: Had I Hey baby, my dick is like Harkness tower…a little smaller been expecting it, I would’ve practiced my reading than you expected but still beautiful. beforehand. Things turned out okay though—I My dick is like a buttery...open all night. And buttery. placed into a 5th grade level. I was given my very own I have an Oedipal complex...will you be my mommy? I library card and I immediately ran to Sterling to check legitimately miss my mother. out Frindle by Andrew Clemens. Unfortunately, all You must be Handsome Dan, because I want to make love seventeen copies of Frindle were already taken, but they to you. did have Hatchet by Gary Paulsen which kept me busy My dick is a microcosm of my body as a whole. until midterms. Now that I’ve finished Hatchet, I can Same Veritas, More Lux: Let’s fuck with the lights on. finally present my paper bag book report to Dean Chun Are you the Woolsey statue? Because I’ll rub your toes and President Salovey at the next Mellon Forum. every morning for good luck.

DON’T try to sleep in the same bed as your roommate: I had so much fun with you at Bulldog Days. I don’t know When I visited for Bulldog Days, my whole suite shared if I’m ready to be in a relationship at the beginning of a single bed, shower, and toothbrush. I later learned Yale, but we should totally catch a meal sometime! that was not what generally goes on at Yale. Apparently my “Bulldog Days host” was not a registered student, —Staff and I was actually at a halfway house in Milford.

Wrongly assuming Yale was a sharing environment, I DOS AND DON’TS OF CAMP YALE showed up with no bedding of my own. I sleep naked, so I prefer another body for warmth (I have bad DO make friends on Facebook before you get to campus: circulation). I thought it would be inappropriate to When I walked into the dining hall for the annual invite Professor Larry to my room, but luckily, Carl and first-week Make-A-Friend Meal, our Dean instructed I grew closer as the New England winter approached, us to sit by GroupMe. I sat alone that day watching and I had someone to keep me warm. My roommate the “Eastern Ohio Woodwinds” table make memories did not appreciate Carl’s snoring or his dock-flavored that last a lifetime. If only I had done what every single stench, but Carl’s soft, woolen body was better than any other student did and joined a group chat based on comforter Room Essentials™ could ever make. interests identified by self-promoting social media

posts. After a Camp Yale without social interaction, I —H. Rubin knew I had to get on Facebook. I clicked on an event post for Kid Rock at Toads, and from the “interested” list I found my first friend at Yale: Carl, who works at the docks.

DON’T use a Blue Book from a past semester: Nobody told me to double check, and now I need to figure out how to undeclare a major in “Oriental Studies.” I should have realized something was off when I had to go to the Beinecke archives to look up courses. When I followed the map in the Blue Book to the Oriental Studies Department I ended up at an AutoZone. I spent the first unit of “Buddhism in Contemporary Siam” sorting lug nuts by thread count. I wasn’t even the slightest bit concerned when instead of renowned 19th century historian Edward Gaylord —C. Gorman

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GASLIGHTING YOUR FROCO 101 DISCLAIMER: I’m going to be brutally honest with you, Reader, because I do believe that honesty is important in any friendship, and you are truly my best friend. While I am certain that I have gaslighted (gaslit? gaslought? gaslutted?) my friends, my family, and my spin instructor at some point, I don’t quite know exactly what “gaslighting” means. And I definitely don’t know how to do it to a Froco. But because I value our friendship, Reader, and because “not knowing about the topic” has never stopped me from writing anything, I’m going to keep on Thomas-the-Tank-Engine-ing this motherfucker anyway. So, for the sake of this article, please take “Gaslighting your Froco” to mean “Tricking your Froco into Thinking they are a Waiter at Chili’s,” something with which I have much more experience.

When you arrive at Duty with your friends after a wild night at AEPi, tell your Froco that this is in fact a Chili’s, and you’re here with your adult softball league teammates to celebrate your big win with a round of mixand-match fajitas.

Let your Froco know that you’ve dined here at Chili’s a million times before and know all about their “My Chili’s Rewards” program. Tell your Froco you’d like to just cut to the chase and hear about their daily specials.

If your Froco tries to suggest that they “don’t work in the food service industry” or “aren’t a waiter for Chili’s,” point out the fact that you are currently ordering food from them at a Chili’s as a counter-example, and proceed to order an Awesome Blossom, or as Men’s Health Magazine calls it, “Satan’s Dirty, Little Secret.”

Kiss your Froco on the mouth, like you do all waiters.

And then ask them to marry you right here in the middle of this Chili’s, because this is the first place you met and you’re tired of this merely being a professional relationship. You’re ready for love, a love redder and hotter than Chilly the Chili, the Chili’s official mascot. Tell your Froco that when you just kissed them you felt the sparks fly higher than the Awesome Blossom’s flavor profile.

Give your Froco a 12.5% tip (before tax) after they help you to Yale Health because you just passed out drunk at Chili’s.

—A. Zbornak

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STUDENTS FINALIZE MASTURBATION SCHEDULES, SETTLE INTO A COMFORTABLE RHYTHM

By G. Wynter NEW HAVEN, CT—By the end of the second week of September, Yale undergraduate students had all submitted their final academic schedules to the University Registrar. Subsequently, students were able to finalize their masturbation schedules as early as the third week of school.

After weeks of shopping time slots throughout the day, a process colloquially known as “Blueballing,” most Yalies were able to identify a block of time which fit best into their days.

First-year students required the signatures of their Frocos, as well as their roommates, and submitted their schedules first to avoid conflicts. Sophomores, juniors, and seniors secured their schedules in the following days.

Students living in single rooms were able to pre-register as early as September 2.

Yale sets itself apart from other large universities by allowing students to finalize their schedules in the first weeks of school, rather than in the summer prior to the first semester.

“Some of my friends were forced into choosing a schedule before they even knew their roommate!” a bewildered freshman reflected. “I was able to take my time and discover what really worked for me. Yale really beats off the competition.”

However, not every student is a fan of this delayed gratification.

“It’s hard, trying to balance so many potential combinations,” one student confided to the Record. “Sometimes I wish it were more straightforward.”

Students will retain their academic and masturbatory schedules until the completion of the fall term.

This space unintentionally left blank.

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN YOUR DORM ROOM AND A PRISON CELL Outside your bedroom is a common room, most likely furnished with a comfortable couch and other accouterments. Outside a prison cell is a hallway where correctional officers get to watch you poop.

In prison, you eat bland, unseasoned food from the cafeteria, with portion sizes controlled by the warden. In your dorm, you eat bland, unseasoned food from the dining hall, with portion sizes controlled by how bland and unseasoned it is.

Real prison life is very different from the Netflix sensation Orange is the New Black. Dorm life is exactly like the Netflix sensation Orange is the New Black.

In a prison cell, your cellmate keeps Marlboros in his “prison wallet” (i.e. buttcrack). In your dorm, your roommate keeps them in his “dorm billfold” (i.e. butthole).

In the film Cool Hand Luke, which takes place at a prison, Paul Newman eats fifty eggs and then collapses, his arms sprawled like Jesus on the cross after He ate fifty eggs. This kind of genius religious symbolism most likely will not happen in your dorm room.

Your cellmate’s conjugal visits take place outside the prison cell.

Your dormitory is very nice. Prisons are not desirable places to live. If you think they are similar you are stupid and should be sent to jail.

—H. Rubin Designed by V. Suri

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HOMEMADE HAND PUPPETS EXPLAIN SYSTEMIC RACISM TO YOUR WHITE ROOMMATE CODY

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his brown puppet music so loud that I’m getting noise complaints from the Puppet Airbnb renters in the sort-ofgentrified part of Avenue Q!” Cody, you should really pay attention. I think this is Well, Cody, I heard about the incident. You got the part you don’t get. shitfaced at the Welch 10-Pack party and said the n-word Alright, Cody, I can see you’re not listening, so now during “Gold Digger” by Kanye West. Not just once, but you have to pay the price. The ethnic puppet children have ALL SIX times. I should’ve seen the warning signs, like militarized under the leadership of Juan the Brown Paper when I found a White Student Union flyer on your desk, Puppet and staged a coup in Davenport at 24:00. All or when I overheard you say that the dining hall ketchup legacy students will be taken hostage. Yale has become the was “spicier than usual today.” Anyway, I can’t change headquarters for the Puppet of Color Uprising. I hope this what happened at that party. What I can do is introduce demonstration has answered your question from last Friday you to systemic racism using the homemade hand puppets of “What’s even gonna happen if I just say it?”

I prepared specifically for this occasion.

Meet Juan, the Brown Paper Puppet. Juan is the first —L. Garcia POC (Puppet of Color) I ever made. He may just be a brown paper bag with a pair of googly eyes, but those I CAN’T WAIT TO GO TO PROTESTS googly eyes have watched as he and his brown puppet neighbors have been exploited by systems of puppet Now that I’m in college, I can’t wait to go to protests. oppression.

I can’t wait to hold a big-ass sign. I can’t wait to say a Now here’s Officer Tony Puppet, who I’ll be using to chant about what we want and when we want it. I can’t explain Stop and Frisk. Notice the twisty pipe cleaner on wait to follow instructions from a loud sweaty man in jorts. the back to make a piggy tail. Do you get the metaphor, I can’t wait to march, then kneel, then sit, then lie down Cody? and maybe roll around a little even though no one asked This is White Wanda. She was the easiest to make just to show how committed I am. I can’t wait to walk right because she’s just an old white sock. Wanda has a pretty up to Peter Salovey and kiss him, slap him, and kiss him bland personality, but she perks up if you say something again. I can’t wait to see my friends at the protest and talk like “Reaganomics!” or “Cracker is a racial slur!” about our summer internships during the part when we’re Okay, this last one’s a little more abstract. Can you supposed to be yelling. I can’t wait to tell people that Yale guess who this puppet might be? That’s right, Cody, is not only the wealthiest corporation in New Haven, but is it’s the Prison Industrial Complex! I’ll admit this was also tax exempt. I can’t wait to tell people I better see their a little challenging to make. I had to weave together complicit little asses at the follow-up protest even though thousands of toilet paper rolls into one big tangled ball.

I have no intention of going. I can’t wait to transfer to the The ball represents the incarcerated population of Puppet University of New Haven so I can better understand the America. Now stop gawking, shut the fuck up, and New Haven experience. I can’t wait to punch myself in the listen—the show is about to begin. arm so I can better empathize with the innumerable victims Oh, what a beautiful day it is in New York City! of gun violence. I can’t wait to strip naked and tie myself But oh no, look—Juan the Brown Paper Puppet can’t to a blue light station. I can’t wait to call a Yale Safe Ride get a home equity loan! And it looks like all of his and just say, “Drive.” I can’t wait to lose hope in the brown puppet children will grow up in an underfunded pursuit of knowledge as I am propelled mechanistically puppet school district, setting them up for a life of through the ranks of an ivory tower buttressed by the disproportionate access to indispensable puppet resources. fiscal support of evil, evil men whose only source of Cody, can you please stop playing Temple Run? This is joy is watching the next generation relinquish their last important. remaining sparks of humanity to the veritable hell that is Uh oh! Officer Tony Puppet is back. Tony is the eyes this institution. and ears of this city, meaning he has access to the street But most of all, I can’t wait to meet my roommate! We cams in your puppet neighborhood. Notice how Officer both watch The Office!!

Tony Puppet only listens to White Wanda and blatantly ignores Juan. “Hey Officer Tony, it’s me, your friend White Wanda! Juan the Brown Paper Puppet is playing —D. Schifrin

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DURFEE’S SECRET MENU T he Y ale R ecord

The Marvin Chun: Everyone at Yale knows that Durfee’s is Dean Marvin Chun’s favorite New Haven restaurant. What many don’t know is that his go-to lunch order is on the secret menu. Between 1 and 3 PM, simply ask for a “Marvin Chun” when you’re next in line, and you’ll receive the Marvie-special: a gallon of whole milk, a Tylenol, and a gentle kiss on the forehead from Nancy, his favorite Durfee’s worker. (Pro-tip: wink before you leave, and she’ll give you a kiss on the cheek too!)

Chicken Tenders Animal Style: If you ask for your Durfee’s tendies “animal style” and growl, Guy Fieri himself will drive by in his signature red Chevy with some cheesy onions to top off your tenders. Then he’ll scream, “Welcome to Flavortown!” and do a little riff on the air guitar before driving away.

Eggboy: A true secret-menu classic. Ask for the Eggboy, and you’ll get a Durfee’s hard-boiled egg with an irresistibly cute face drawn in sharpie: Eggboy Supreme: The difference between the Eggboy Supreme and the Eggboy is that the Eggboy Supreme comes with sour cream and tomatoes, and only legacy students are allowed to order it. If you’re a legacy, just whisper “my parents were here first” to each student waiting in line, and the ghost of George H.W. Bush will appear with your Eggboy Supreme before everyone else gets their food.

(Note: not drawn to scale)

Eggboy Locos Tacos: An Eggboy with a dorito hat: The F-Bomb: Grab all the Durfee’s items that start with “f,” like fruit salad or fillet mignon, and you get all of them with a single swipe. But miss just one item, and the Durfee’s worker will tell you to fuck right off to hell.

Swipe-less Sandy: With this secret-menu hack, you get to skip the line AND save your swipe. Just choose two of your favorite Durfee’s sandwiches, make sure no one’s looking, and walk out.

Swipe-less Sandy Animal Style: Instead of Guy Fieri, a Yale Police officer will greet you outside Durfee’s after your order. He’ll drive you all the way to Santa Monica, hold your hand, and take you on long, romantic walks along the beach. He’ll treat you to dinner at a fancy restaurant, where you’ll talk about your shared interests, including long, romantic walks on the beach, hand-holding, and stealing sandwiches from Durfee’s. Finally he’ll bring you back to his place, invite you up to his room, and arrest you for trespassing.

(Note: drawn to scale)

Grilled Cheese: A delicious grilled sandwich with melted cheese right in the middle of it.

—D. Hou Design by V. Suri

heC2019 F irstA -Ymerica ear I ssue TThe orporate I ssue

FIRST-YEAR TAKES FREE CONDOMS IN FIGHT FOR ABSTINENCE

By K. Walsh NEW HAVEN CT—Just days after their CHE Workshop regarding safe sexual practices, Yale first-years in Farnam Hall were shocked to see that the ziplock baggie of free condoms in Entryway B had gone missing.

They were even more shocked to learn that fellow classmate Jaden Gibbons (JE ’23) was the culprit.

According to Gibbons, the incident served a deeply personal purpose—to promote abstinence among his promiscuous peers. “Yeah, I took the condoms,” Gibbons recalled with pride. “Those little latex sin-balloons allow my classmates to engage in filthy and vile activities without any consequences. I don’t want to live in an environment where this behavior is encouraged.”

Though Gibbons wanted to send a strong anti-sex message to his neighbors in Farnam, the motive for his actions wasn’t clear to his fellow first-years. Kellan Campbell (JE ’23), who first noticed the shortage, explained his reaction to the empty condom bag. “I ran downstairs to grab a condom. I was running because this chick was waiting for me up in my room,” said Campbell. “But there were no Magnum XLs left in the baggy. In fact, there weren’t any condoms at all. Someone in Farnam must’ve been fucking like crazy! Part of me was like, ‘Oh, hell yeah!,’ but then the other part of me was like, ‘Ohhhh fuck….’”

Campbell, like many other Farnam residents, expressed concern at the disappearance. “We ended up having sex anyway,” said Campbell. “But I won’t lie, I was a little scared to do it after what those CEOs told us during the wooden dick workshop.”

After informing his Frocos of the incident, Campbell and other JE first-years were happy to see a replenished stock within a few days.

But when this stash went missing shortly afterwards, residents of Farnam suspected it was something more than just a surge of students safely penetrating each other.

It wasn’t long until Gibbons came forward. “When I learned that people didn’t un-

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derstand why the condoms were gone, I knew I had to speak up,” he remarked. “It’s like what that girl at the activities fair with a nose piercing told me: it’s never too early to get involved with activism on campus.”

While many students were outraged at Gibbons’ attempt to prevent safe sex, others were skeptical of his passion for waiting until marriage. “He was texting this girl on our floor like crazy last week trying to get her to come over,” Spencer Zhang, Gibbons’ suitemate, explained. “I think he’s just mad that she never replied.”

Whatever his cause, Gibbons is confident that he will be successful in decreasing sexual activity in Farnam. At press time, he announced, “I won’t go down without a fight.

No one in Farnam is allowed to have sex until I ca—I mean until they’re married. At the end of the day, that’s what this is all about.”

TELLTALE SIGNS YOUR ROOMMATE BRIBED HIS WAY IN He can’t read.

His father visits twice a semester for board meetings.

He looks at the library to double-check the spelling of his name.

He lives in the Vanderbilt suite because of his “dust allergy.”

He thinks tuition is $600k a year.

His Yale ID has a picture of Hope Solo.

He calls his Froco his butler.

He just put a tide pod in the dryer.

He sleeps at the Study after Woads because it’s closer than his dorm.

He wears Gucci shower shoes.

He calls his mom Aunt Becky.

His Fuller House cameo got cancelled.

He thinks AirPods are disposable.

He accidentally called his admissions officer Dad. He keeps saying he’s well endowed but you’ve seen his penis.

He’s in JE. —Staff

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GREG FROM BULLDOG DAYS

Don’t spend the $5 before checking that there are enough people inside.

Coat check just isn’t worth it! Tie your coat to one of the security guards.

Is Schrödinger’s cat really dead?

The line for the bathroom is really really long because no one realizes most of the stalls are empty.

NEVER EVER go alone, especially never go alone drunk.

What breed was Schrödinger’s cat?

DJ Action is lowkey hot If that cat was Siamese I’m glad he died.

Did Schrödinger kill his cat because the cat was a Nazi?

Because apparently Schrödinger left Germany to avoid Nazi anti-semitism. Good guy.

Sometimes it’s better to just spend the night inside with a good book!

Ah, Bulldog Days! What a time it was! You were young, naive, and beyond excited to finally discover Yale.

You put yourself out there, and it felt good. You met new people who may become your lifelong friends (if you’re lucky!). Even if you don’t spend your Camp Yale together, it’s reassuring to know that your Bulldog Days squad will always welcome you with open arms.

Oh, and then there’s Greg. Remember Greg? You know, that kid who followed you and your squad around for three full days because he was too afraid to introduce himself to anyone else? Yeah, that Greg! The kid who’s name you kept forgetting and after a certain point it would be rude to ask so you kinda just referred to him as “man” every time he was around? Classic Greg! And guess what? Greg still doesn’t know how to make friends! You’re all he’s got, and he thinks of you as a brother! Isn’t that fun? Bulldog Days is in the past, but Greg is here to stay!

Let’s be honest. You’re going to try to shake Greg.

You’re going to tell him you’re meeting up with other friends, that you need some alone time, maybe even that your grandmother just died and you need to attend her funeral at Grove Street Cemetery, so, “see-you-later… uh... man.” Greg might be suspicious that your grandmother is going to be buried in New Haven. Is your family affiliated with Yale? Are you a goddamn legacy or something? But it doesn’t matter to Greg. No, Greg will follow you every step of the way. He’ll march into that cemetery carrying a bouquet of tulips that seemingly just appeared out of nowhere. It seems impossible for Greg to be on your tail, at the florist, and with your grandmother, spiritually, all at the same time. But Greg finds a way...

Greg is everywhere. Greg is unstoppable. Greg is the pound for pound best fencer in all of North America, which I guess is pretty cool but we’re not focused on that right now! Greg is not an allegory for Jesus as much as you might want him to be. Unlike Jesus, Greg is probably white.

Greg is, however, very similar to God, in that he is deep inside of each and every one of us. Greg can walk on water, but not Yale Spa Water. Sometimes Greg will appear to you in the brambles of a burning bush, and ask if you’re busy this weekend or next weekend. Greg is almighty, but not not almighty enough to do his own laundry without messaging you on GroupMe to ask if you wanna come with. Greg is you. Greg is me. Greg is love, Greg is life.

—A. Thomas

—W. Cramer

—I. Almor THINGS I WISH I KNEW BEFORE MY FIRST WOADS

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A BABY BULLDOG’S GUIDE TO BULLDOG DAYS

CLUBS YOU NEED TO JOIN FIRST YEAR IF YOU WANT TO BE IN SKULL AND BONES

Introduce yourself on social media before the big day: After you get into Yale, it’s crucial to introduce yourself on the admitted students Facebook page. Just post something simple, but unique! Tell everyone how excited you are to be a bulldog, how much you love The Office, or how your gap year in Costa Rica completely changed your outlook on this beautiful planet we call home. Stay modest, and definitely don’t mention anything too impressive, like your 1600, or your Presidential Scholar award, or your Nobel Peace Prize. If you must, just be sure to preface it with “Humbled to announce.” Remember—this page is your chance to make connections! Make sure to drop some comments like “yay interest in politics!” or “valedictorian squaddd!” or “UGH yes i’m also quirky!”

Play some icebreakers once you arrive: Why not suggest a get-to-know-you game? Two Truths and a Lie is a classic. Try breaking the ice with, “I’m choosing between Yale and Stanford, my favorite candy is Reese’s Cups, and I got a 36 on the ACT in 8th grade.” Guess who’s allergic to peanut butter, suckers!

Never Have I Ever is a great game too—try some simple ones at the beginning, like “Never have I ever been deferred,” followed by “Never have I ever been kissed.”

Arrange a meet-up with your GroupMe friends: Finally, you get to meet the 60 kids from the “2023 Squad <3” chat in person! Try greeting your online buddies with a little smirk and nod, and then look down at your phone. Get used to doing that every time you walk past them on campus next four years. Think of it as a secret handshake!

Be kind and understanding: Show your peers that you are a good friend by being the nicest you can be! Ask if anyone needs anything while you’re up getting a third bowl of Aztec Grain Blend in the dining hall, or compliment someone’s chic drawstring bag. Also be sure to check! your! privilege! Be mindful of people’s different experiences coming here. Announce at that Abolish ICE (Cream) event that we must lower the financial burden of higher education by splitting an Uber from New Haven to Cambridge, if any admitted Crimsons are also headed to Visitas weekend after this.

The Whiffenpoofs: Skull and Bones loves to tap people from the best-known groups on campus.

Be sure to keep an eye out for the “Whiffs” at the extracurricular fair! The historic acapella group is open to boys and girls of all skill and experience levels, and they just can’t wait to meet their next freshman class.

Jr. Skull and Bones: Although not every Sports Illustrated reader starts out by reading Sports Illustrated for Kids, most readers of Sports Illustrated for Kids end up reading Sports Illustrated. Most people who eat Whopper Juniors end up eating Whoppers, though some people jump straight to the Senior Whopper without having first eaten a Whopper Junior. Same idea with JS&B. Boy Scouts of America: The Boy Scouts of America is adventure, family, fun, leadership and so much more.

In Scouting, boys and girls start with their best rightnow selves and grow into their very best future selves.

It’s fun, hands-on learning and achievement that puts kids in the middle of the action and prepares them for today—and for life. Scout me in! To learn more, search your zipcode on www.scouting.org to get in touch with your local Scoutmaster today!

Sam’s Club: Do you really expect Skull and Bones to give you the time of day if you aren’t a member of America’s second largest membership-only bulk retail warehouse chain?

The Yale Record: Duh. How do you think we know so much about how to get tapped by Skull and Bones?

LC 209, Mondays at 9 p.m.

—S. Force

—J. Adam

—H. Rubin

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EVERYONE BUT YOU HAVING THE BEST TIME OF THEIR LIVES

By R. LACKNER NEW HAVEN, CT—Three days into Camp Yale, a survey of the entire first-year class revealed that literally everyone except for you is having a really, really amazing time.

The survey, sent to the nearly 1,578 members of the incoming first-year class, included such questions as, “Are you the happiest you’ve ever been?” and “Is everything here so perfect that you’ve forgotten all aspects of your former life and never want to leave Yale?” both of which received 1,577-1 responses in the affirmative.

Camp Yale marks the first time that many members of the class fo 2023 have been away from their homes and their families, so it’s totally understandable that you’ve already called your parents today. That being said, you should know that you’re the only one. Derrick Evans ’23 even said that he would “probably not even notice if his hometown burst into flames,” as he is “literally the opposite of homesick” due to how much more fun he is having than you.

“I’d probably be okay if my entire family was mauled by a bear.” He then added, “Wenzels are great.”

“I’m just so happy here, every single moment of every single day,” reported all five of your suite mates, separately, sporting the matching T-shirts they made together that night you spent feeling uncomfortable and out of place at Toad’s. They all agreed that “a sixth close friend would definitely ruin their bestfriends dynamic.”

“I’ve already made as many friends as I could possibly need,” added your roommate, Emily Zheng ’20, showing off her thirty-seven freshly hand-braided friendship bracelets.

When asked if in the last three hours they had cried silently over a piece of Claire’s cake during the Slifka blue booking study break, all but one respondent in the survey answered, “No, I have not. How embarrassing for the one person that did. College is so great and I can’t possibly imagine being any happier than I currently am.”

WHAT YOUR FAVORITE YALE STUDY SPACE SAYS ABOUT YOU Bass Library: You’re dedicated! You need a quiet study space to maintain that 4.0! Go you!

Maison Mathis: You like to treat yourself! And yes, trying everything on the menu DOES count as research!

Blue State Coffee: You’re a social butterfly! You love running into friends while you work, and the ambient noise helps you think.

Sterling Stacks: You’re meditative. You like to look out over Yale’s campus while you study. Watch the people. Learn their patterns.

Center for Teaching and Learning: You’re collaborative.

You work best in a group study room. A private room. A soundproof room. A room where nobody would be able to hear their screams. Hell, they had it coming. The writing was on the walls. Or are they windows? Dammit, all the rooms in the CTL are transparent. Back to the drawing board.

Your Dorm Room: You’re introverted. Sometimes you need to be alone with your thoughts. Goddamnit, you just need a minute to figure this all out. You’re so close you can taste it, but there can’t be any loose ends. No evidence. Nothing to tie you to the scene.

The Secret Steam Tunnels: You’ve waited so long for this moment. Watching and waiting. Waiting and watching. You’ve been off the grid for 72 hours, living in the steam tunnels and eating the unrefrigerated sushi you guest-swiped from Durfee’s before spring break. You never knew imitation crab could rot, but then again, you never thought you’d make it this far. Everyone thinks you’re in Manhattan for the weekend—the perfect alibi. You even left a Chelsea gallery-hopping travel guide on your desk. Yes, everything is in place. You wait in silence, looking up through the grates of a manhole outside Bass. 10:53 p.m. Any moment now. Suddenly, you hear the sound of footsteps— somehow, you know it’s him. You can sense it. Poor kid, you think. If only he had a friend with him. If only he had one fucking friend.

Starbucks: You’re a jitterbug! You need a little caffeine to get those mental gears turning!

—C. Cohen

T he C orporate A merica I ssue llauren.gibson@yale.edu auren.gibson@yale.edu Improv Workshop Improv WorkshopAdvice Advice

Hey girl!

It was so great meeting you at our improv workshop. To prepare for your audition, we just wanted to give you some advice and let you know what we’d like to see more of.

During our introduction name game, you went with the name “Hashtag Bring Back Our Girls Brittney.” You just about had the right idea with the alliteration, but it was a little weird, especially considering your name is Lauren. Also the hashtag kind of defeated the purpose of the game. We know it’s tricky, but next time try something like “Laughing Lauren!” or “Let’s Boogie Lauren!” instead of referencing the kidnapping of schoolchildren by an extremist terrorist organization.

Same goes for Zip Zap Zop. Loved the creativity of “Sweatship, Sweatshap, Sweatshop,” but it doesn’t totally work!

Neither did “9/11 Was An Inside Jib, Jab, Job.” Let’s avoid slant rhymes and maybe try sticking to one syllable? A Plip Plap Plop or even Mip Map Mop would really elevate your craft!

Another trick of the trade is object work! Don’t actually pull out your phone to make a call in a scene—just pretend it’s there using your hands! This applies to all objects, so next time you don’t need to actually bring your grandpa’s sword and threaten to plunge it into your scene partner’s liver. Good luck, and see you at auditions!

Yes and, Should I Be Concerned Shelby —S. Force Designed by V. Suri

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heC2019 F irstA -Ymerica ear I ssue TThe orporate I ssue

—P. Davis CAMPUS SECRETS EVERY FIRST-YEAR SHOULD KNOW Every year, a slew of crazy campus secrets are passed down to the incoming class. However, the real secret is that most of them are completely made up! When I was a first-year, a junior in my econ section convinced me that on the night of a full moon, I could talk to the ghost of former Yale physics professor Josiah Willard Gibbs. Instead I ended up naked, surrounded by candles, and shivering by myself in the Grove Street Cemetery. After recovering from pneumonia, I promised myself I would share the real secrets of Yale to satisfy the curiosity of first-years from Franklin to TD. Without further ado, I present to you: Campus Secrets Every First-Year Should Know To score some alc as a first-year, go to the Shake Shack on the New Haven Green. Shake Shack was a notorious speakeasy during prohibition, and always kept a stash of moonshine for Yalies. To get in, make direct eye contact with the manager, Mr. Moriarty, and wink three times in rapid succession. Moriarty will lead you to a secret bar in the back, and he’ll sell to you at a 20% student discount.

Sit back with your solo cup of homemade Dubra, relax, and watch your social status soar.

There are free laundry machines located beneath Dwight Hall on Old Campus. Usually, these machines are unoccupied and you can do a load of laundry free of charge with zero hassle. To get there, walk into Dwight Hall and sign up for at least seven volunteer projects.

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Once they see that you are serious about service, they’ll give you a key to the laundry room. Then, make up an excuse to get out of your Dwight Hall community service, like the fact that volunteerism is just late stage capitalism, and that laziness is actually progressive and woke.

Bada bing bada boom, you now have free laundry.

Not many people know this, but there are secret menu items you can order from GHeav. To get them, go to GHeav around closing time, and whistle “Living On a Prayer” by Bon Jovi. If you whistle loudly enough, an elderly man will tap you on the shoulder. I can’t stress this enough: there is a one in five chance the man who taps you will be wearing an eyepatch. If this happens, punch him in his good eye and run away as fast as your little first-year legs will carry you. That man is named Boris, and he cannot be trusted. Hopefully, you will be tapped by a man with two functioning eyes. Follow him into the storage room. He will hand you a lantern, and lead you down a winding staircase. At the bottom of the stairs, you will enter a cavern. Watch out for the stalagmites! If you survive the stalagmites (unlikely), shine the lantern on the wall, and you’ll discover Morse code has been etched into the cavern walls. Decode the Morse, and you’ll discover the secret menu. Congrats! No one has ever made it this far, and even if you do, you’ll probably succumb to the dangerous pre-1973 levels of Asbestos.

—Z. Goodman THINGS TO ASK YOUR SUITEMATE TO HELP THEM FIND A SCREW DATE What’s your name? Haha just kidding Lily, I know your name!

What kind of guy are you into?

Wait, Lily you’re a lesbian? Oh my God...is that why you didn’t like the last guy I set you up with?

Sorry yeah maybe I should listen more…you’re right.

Fine, what’s your most important quality in a guy?

Wait, so sorry, I forgot—you’re a lesbian?

Okay, so your lesbian sex, it involves “the scissoring”?

As a guy I watch a lot of lesbian porn, that’s kind of feminist, right?

Do you miss penis?

You must really like poon then?

Am I being insensitive?

Wait you already have a girlfriend?

—A. Thomas

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T he Y ale R ecord

FIFTEEN OTHER THINGS YOU’LL GAIN YOUR FIRST YEAR A deep appreciation for the Yale University Library System An irresistible urge to snap for everything from acapella shows to empowering train station advertisements A major obsession with bulldogs, unless you’re one of those soulless cat people An immediate attraction to anyone with the last name “Bass,” “Sterling” or “Center-For-Teaching-andLearning,” because they remind you of those cherished hours spent at the library An unrivaled ability to pretend you want to grab a meal with your friends from pre-orientation A load of bruises from your first night out, when the girl from your FOOT trip invited you back to her single and showed you her “new climbing ropes” A load of bruises from your first time in Sterling Memorial Library, because trying BDSM on a bookshelf is a lot harder than it looks A deep appreciation for ultimate frisbee

A deep appreciation for Sterling Memorial Library’s perfectly smooth stained-glass windows and tantalizingly musky book-smell A persistent cough you may or may not have acquired from licking the chalky walls of Sterling Memorial Library A burning question in your mind of whether anyone else at Yale identifies as “library-sexual” or “librarycurious” Memories of the first snowfall, and how it somehow made Sterling Memorial Library look even hotter A slew of amazing friends, particularly the members of Ex-Com who you talked to about that “incident” at Sterling Memorial Library Unforgettable experiences both inside and outside of the classroom, making you not just a better scholar, but a better leader and a better member of our global community A raging hard-on every time you see or think about Sterling Memorial Library —K. Mazer

—S. Ruiz

Call us today!

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T he Y ale R ecord

WHY WOULD I DRINK WHEN THERE’S FROCO DUTY TONIGHT? It’s ten o’clock on a Saturday night, and I have the double to myself again. My roommate Stacey is out in the common room, “alcohol-pregaming” with her friends, and I’m stuck in the room holding my nose to block out the fumes. I never understood that term, “pregame.” It’s not like they’re going to a game afterwards—they’re going to a frat. Do they play games at frats? Like Apples to Apples, or Apples to Apples Junior? ‘Cause maybe then I’d go.

But from what I know, all they do is drink and sweat and bring drunk, sweaty boys back to the suite.

If Stacey comes home with Brad from SigEp I’ll have to sleep in the common room again, and probably get second-hand drunk off the open bottles of Dubra. I know what you’re thinking. “It’s college! It’s time to live it up! What else could you possibly be doing on a Saturday night?” Well I’ll have you know that I was invited to a little party of my own. Yeah, that’s right.

It’s called “Froco Duty.” Ever heard of it? It’s only the hottest late-night spot in New Haven. There’s pretzels.

There’s sometimes music. And there’s Froco Robby, my new best friend.

It’s such a funny story, actually. Robby wasn’t even my assigned Froco! But we’ve had so many interesting conversations these past few weeks. We mostly discuss the adverse effects of alcohol on the adolescent brain, but we also talk about so much more— homework, the looming threat of nuclear war, and whether or not Frocos should be allowed to carry guns. Robby always listens to me. He thinks it’s so rad that I know so much about the dangers of drinking. He even let me see his gun! It’s good to know that someone else cares, and that someone else has a totally pristine liver like a newborn baby.

Wow, now that I’m thinking about it, Froco Robby is like the perfect guy. I wish he was in my grade so we

could hold hands for the next four years and then finally kiss on the lips grownup-style at graduation. I can’t stop thinking about the way he looks at me when he says I should “socialize more with the other first-years.”

There’s definitely something special between us.

Well, there are only fifteen minutes until Duty starts. My mind is made up—I’m gonna tell Froco Robby how I really feel tonight. I’m glad my judgment isn’t clouded by booze. I can’t be messy for Froco Robby. That would be so embarrassing. Everything has to be perfect. It’s what respectable individuals like Robby and I deserve.

Ten minutes till Duty. Time to change out of my pajamas and put on something a little more… presentable. I’ll waltz into the Froco suite at 11 p.m. sharp wearing my First Communion dress. Maybe I’ll wink and say something clever like, “Reporting for duty!”

Robby will laugh, and then I’ll laugh, and then he’ll faint when he sees me in my white linens. I guess I’ll have to resuscitate him using mouth-to-mouth. It’s gonna be so rad. I can’t wait to tell my suitemates about this at brunch.

—K. Walsh

—J. Adam

WHY WOULD WE INVITE YOU TO THE FOOT ORGY IF YOU CAN’T MAKE IT A MILE WITHOUT YOUR INHALER? Listen bud, I know that your lungs aren’t so good at breathing, or whatever.

It’s not some big secret. Your asthma is the reason Cool Simon had to start taking his cigarette breaks away from the rest of the FOOT group. Now his smoking isn’t even funny anymore because you made it this whole ordeal instead of just a hilarious bit. I’m sorry, but we just can’t have you wheezing it up asthma-style at our End-Of-FOOT Orgy Party on Old Campus. You couldn’t even climb up a little hill in the Berkshires without collapsing into a coughing fit. What makes you think you can climb a pile of squirming naked bodies so dirty and dusty that we cloud out the sun?

Look dude—if anyone understands your “condition” it’s me. My ex-girlfriend’s dog had a soy allergy, so I know how illness works. But you gotta understand—there’s no way you can last at our Post-Pre-Orientation Naked Fiesta if you have to whip out your inhaler every five minutes.

Do you get it? I’m not playing around. We’re talking high-stamina, full-on endurance here. Did you see Taylor’s calves on the hike up here? You know what, I don’t even know why I asked. Of fucking course you did. EVERYBODY saw them. And if you think that I’m gonna pass up on a chance to grab a handful of that calf-meat in a steamy pile of unshowered bodies just to sit this one out in solidarity with you, then you’ve lost your goddamn mind.

Look, I’m sorry buddy, but this is the way it’s gotta be. This orgy is the Pre-Camp Yale Freaky Fuck-Fest that we’ve all been waiting for. I’ve been dying to try out new positions like the “reverse potty-squat,” the “nut in the trail-mix,” and most of all the “leave no trace.” If it’s any consolation, you’re welcome to watch the whole thing from the edge of Old Campus with the FOCUS kids.

—M. Blaney Design by V. Suri