Shockingly, latest cd sees yo-yo ma return to the fucking cello
Inspired by nerd’s taunt, bullies beat the shit out him with sticks and stones
Eugene’s comedy newspaper
Thewww.thecomicpress.com Comic Press
Eugene, Oregon
Thursday, January 29, 2008
Volume 2, Issue 7
Marijuana: Downfall of a Nation By Josh Clark announcements that were popular after Josh@thecomicpress.com 9/11? Well, maybe this will refresh your We all know that smoking marijuana memory: is a blast. A single bong hit can make colors brighter, food tastier, and life fun- Stoner: “Last night, I smoked a doonier. Spending some quality time with a bie with my friends… and helped kill spliff reduces stress by making you for- 14 innocent women and children.” get all of your problems and responsibilities. And finally, lighting up the broccoli Voice Over Guy: “That’s right, kidsmakes working drug money supports at your shitty terrorists.” Stoner: “Last night, I smoked job and going a doobie with my friends… and to economics What else do you helped kill 14 innocent women class nearly tolneed to hear? and children.” erable. This is our But the government devil’s weed talking. They has a dark side that your dealer doesn’t don’t need to back up their want you to see. The seemingly fun- claims with fancy evidence and loving plant that you contentedly inhale proof. They don’t just jump to into your smoke-addled lungs has a soul conclusions. This is a serious as dark and sticky as the bong resin that threat to our national security. clogs your brain. Right now, Osama Bin This gateway drug may seem harm- Laden is in a cave somewhere less at first, but once you start burning harvesting a strain of reefer the grass, it is only a matter of time be- so powerful that it will turn fore it leads to such dangerous things as the entire American populadreadlocks, patchouli, and jam bands. It tion into his brainless zombie only takes one puff of the magic dragon slaves. Your friends, family, to get hooked, and before you know what and neighbors may already happened, you’ll be in a drum circle, be dope smoking Islamic funwearing nothing but a poncho and play- damentalists. Keep an eye on ing a didgeridoo with someone named anyone who appears unclean, Rainbow Sunshine. disheveled or smells of Middle As if that’s not bad enough, making Eastern fragrances and oils. love to Mary Jane also supports terror- Long hair, beards, and flowism. Haven’t you seen the public service ing, bohemian-style clothing
are also common terrorist garb. These anti-American pig dogs often half-coherently mumble defamatory phrases about “the man” or “the system”, and typically think 9/11 was an inside job. Although these people may generally seem passive and even boring, they are incredibly dangerous. Their wishing stones can be used as weapons. Report any suspicious potheads to your local chapter of Homeland Security, and remember: trust no one. Marijuana kills.
This means you!
Dear Sirs, A Modest Proposal By Alayna Shulman Alayna@thecomicpress.com It has recently come to the attention of University of Oregon students and faculty that the plot of land currently owned and occupied by Northwest Christian College is better suited for other uses. A renegotiation is in the best interests of both schools, as UO’s long struggle to equip students with adequate parking facilities has proven to be an insurmountable obstacle. The students and staff of NWCC would also benefit from the proposed solution, as I will explain in further detail henceforth. Firstly, the coexistence of a small religious institution and a sprawling secular one in such close proximity is inefficient at best. The drunken capering of UO students surely does not adhere to the more ascetic creeds set by NWCC, and therefore only disrupts those matriculating at both institutions. Imagine, if you will, Beacons, attending a university not within walking distance of a bar that refers to its attendees as “sexy alcoholics,” where a man peddling joke books that talk of little else than the inadequacy of the Reagan administration does not solicit you each and every day. While it may seem a distant utopia, such a place does exist. Eugene, however, is not that place, and if you wish ever to see this dream actualized, you
would be wise in heeding our proposal to leave your current confines and create a new, better Northwest Christian College. Paradise found. Next, the placement of your institution in such close quarters with a major PAC-10 school creates a highly disheartening climate of local favoritism. 13thStreet eateries post signs in their windows reading “Northwest Christian College Students Welcome,” as though constant reassurance is needed to remind you that you aren’t second-class citizens. The Eugenian hierarchical system places Ducks at the top, LCC students next, and NWCC students slightly above the man who sporadically shouts prejudiced obscenities on campus. Wouldn’t it be something to feel as though it is you who rule the roost for once? To see Champion hoodies with your school colors adorning every other passerby in any given part of town? To have giant billboards with your athletes’ daunting visages lining the highway? Once again, it is possible –but only if you abandon the bastion of oppression that is your current campus and reconvene elsewhere. To sum, it is in the interest of neither party to maintain the distribution of property as it stands. It is our genuine belief that both institutions would be vastly improved upon if the proposed changes were put into effect, as enumerated in the
preceding memorandum. While it may be construed as a testimony to the underlying tension that exists between two said institutions, our hope is that this will not detract from our intention to better both Northwest Christian College and the University of Oregon. Thank you for your time and consideration. - The Sexy Alcoholics
Free Like Beer!
An Open Letter To The Big Three Automakers by Jake Sauvageau Jake@thecomicpress.com Dear Big Three: So, I have noticed in the news the past few months that you guys, GM, Ford, and Chrysler, are having some financial problems. I’m sure you are claiming numerous reasons for this situation, probably not limited to the current economy, the rising cost of fuel, EPA guidelines, and the cost of labor unions. Now, I am a huge fan of American steel, at least the older stuff. As a kid, I rode around in almost nothing but 60’s Chevrolet Camaros, Chevelles, and Impalas. I spent many a weekend in my dad’s garage, handing him tools, lovin’ Chevys and hatin’ Fords. The hippies can disagree all they want, but nothing – and I mean nothing – can substitute the emotions I feel upon starting up a V-8 engine, hearing the roar of the exhaust, the smell of fuel, and punching the pedal to the floor to leave a black rubber trail of speed and exhilaration. With all these memories, you would think that I would be on the forefront of the charge, a leader in the fight to save the national institution known as the American automaker, right? Wrong. Pardon my French, err, make that German, but I could give a fuck as to what happens to you guys. See, you automakers are not what you used to be: You are a shell of your former selves. There used to be a time when it actually seemed that you cared about us, the drivers: When you made a car that was easy to work on, had enough power, plenty of room, and was fun to drive. But in the 70’s, something happened: A combination of new EPA rules and a gas crunch forced you to switch from graceful burly steel gazelles to ugly squat asthmatic rhinos. Now I don’t blame you for this: Despite my protests, I do think that this earth is a wonderful place, and I usually attempt to do my part in trying to save it. The U.S. had more foresight than many countries in trying to curb pollution. But this is where you screwed up: The rules had changed, and rather than try to change the game and reinvent the (steering) wheel, you did… nothing.
See BIG THREE, page 7
Edu-Graphic:
Percent chance you will die Go on, guess what campus this was on.
Percent chance you will never die
Our Mission The Comic Press is published by a couple guys and their friends. We don’t get any money, respect or furtive sexual encounters in the supply closet for doing this, so we are understandably bitter. The Comic Press contains only satire and parody, so if you even think about exhibiting moral outrage or taking legal action, then your parents probably didn’t love you enough. Just to be totally clear, we do not assert that anything in this rag comes anywhere close to the truth, facts, medical advice or even good writing.
Senior Twitter Correspondent
Merlin Mann
twitter.com/hotdogsladies Rummaging through a giant purse, Prospective Nanny announces, “Hm. I usually have a puppet in here...” [beat] Me: “Thanks. We’re done here.” Facebook clearly saw “People You May Know” as pithier than “People Whom You Might Wish to Engage in a Makebelieve Internet Friendship. Every time I hear the word “Cosplay,” I imagine super-cute Japanese girls dressing up like Bill Cosby. Which I would find AMAZINGLY hot. It’s inexcusable for more than 4 people to dine out together without one of them “having a birthday.” I mean, come on -- people SING to you!
Junior Twitter Correspondent
Nick Douglas
Before you hate, just remember that a whole mess of white dudes died and/or wrote boring documents so we could have the right to make cruel fun of you and your stupid face.
Your body is a wonderland. Mine is Kamp Krusty.
Cast of Characters
TWITTER FOR DUMMIES: Step 1: write 140 characters. Step 2: you’re a fucking idiot.
Looking to earn extra points for
twitter.com/nick
that fighter jet the comic press is giving away?
Editor-in-Chief & Design Jackson Hager
I thought I was Don Draper. Turns out I’m Liz Lemon.
Publisher & Web Master Kai Davis
Clinic hands me free condoms, but they’re all stamped with the number for the AIDS hotline. Clinics make bad wingmen.
Contributors Hannah Belair Josh Clark Jordan Eddy Collin Gerber Daniel Hithers Bruce Jeffryes Abby Kuhn Thomas Kramer Jake Sauvageau Alayna Shulman Margie McArdle David Sopkin David Vengel Aryn Zsarpa Syndicated Writers Dave’s Secretary at Work Merlin Mann Christian Lander Nick Douglas Comic Artists Ryan North Randall Munroe Jesse Reklaw Justin & Drew Kate Beaton David Malki ! Wes & Troy Andy Rememter
101
Life Skills
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Lesson 8: Drinking for Free Revisited
Jihads This Week
We’ve all heard the expression ‘Free like Beer,’ hell, it’s even printed at the top of this newspaper this week. But today The Comic Press shows you how, with a little bit of dubious behavior, you can be on the road to free alcohol.
Video games, literature and movies about or concerning Zombies Falling down (the action, not the
1. Steal a prepaid debit card from Walmat or buy one at the bank.
movie. That movie kicks ass)
2. Open a tab at your least favorite bar with your new debit card. 3. Get drunk off your ass and then make your escape. Remember you will have a pretty hard time going back to this bar afterwards, so we say try it at your least favorite bar. Definitly not Rennie’s or Taylor’s. 4. Repeat until you run out of bars. Or get caught.
Bowls that are just a tiny bit too small to hold a full can of soup Drinking Pedialyte Jr. to cure hangovers (actually awesome, but tastes like goat balls)
You. Rich from the plundering. It’s good to be the King.
$2 Plaid shirts from Goodwill that people have decided are somehow OK to wear
Contact! Editor@thecomicpress.com Publisher@thecomicpress Ads@thecomicpress.com
Corrections The picture of Sam Dotters-Katz in Issue 7 was provided by Abby Kuhn. Conversely, everyone quieter than you may actually be tolerable to be around Page 2, Bitches
The Comic Press
Dave’s Secretary at Work Once at the cottage my dad and un“Can’t take it in the water, eh?!” My cle ron are now arguing over who has the dad shouts out triumphantly and uncle nicest watch. Ron is going on about how ron glowers. “My watch isn’t just waterhis is atomic or something and my dad is resistant, it’s water-proof!! How do you talking about how his is powered by wrist like that!” My dad suddenly turns the movements and they band over and scrutiare both making exnizes the back of plate. travagant claims that “Yep!!!” He continues gleefully “says it right I can neither verify here - waterproof up to nor disregard. We are all walking down 14 whole atmospheres. to the beach to go What a watch!” swimming. As we apRon silently wades proach the shoreline out into the lake. My uncle ron carefully dad splashes in like he removes his watch, was dropped out of a wraps it in a champlane and swims past ois he must have had uncle ron, shouting all hidden in his baththe while. “14 Atmoing suit, and places it spheres! That’s pretty daintily in the center deep!! Can’t do that Not the watch in question. of a folding chair. with your watch, can you!” He
scores his point and takes it further with a little dive under the water. He surfaces exuberantly. “Yes, see - still ticking!” He puts the watch to his ear and smiles blissfully although i’m convinced he can’t hear a thing amid all the splashing he’s doing. “Yes, this is a fine piece of craftsmanship. I bet i could go down to the bottom of the lake with this thing!”. He takes an exaggerated deep breath and disappears into the murky depths of the lake. Uncle ron and I wait. Ron looks as though the lake is full of vinegar and he just swallowed a lot of it. About a minute later my dad’s head pops up a good 50 feet away from. He’s still shouting happily until he lifts up his hand - the watch isn’t there anymore. He’s somehow managed to lose it while swimming as fast as he could under water. A thin smile begins to creep across uncle ron’s face and within minutes he is just beaming. He still refers to that time as one of the best swims he’s ever taken in the lake.
SLOW WAVE by Jesse Reklaw
<www.slowwave.com>
Stuff White People Like
Christian Lander - stuffwhitepeoplelike.com
Taking a Year Off When someone goes through a stressful experience they usually require some time off to clear their head, regain focus, and recover from the pain and suffering. Of course, in white culture these experiences are most often defined as finishing high school, making it through three years of college, or working for eleven months straight with only two weeks vacation and every statutory holiday (”they don’t count because I had to spend them with family.”) Though you might consider finishing school or having a good job to be “accomplishments” many white people view them as burdens. As such, they can only handle
them for so long before they start talking about their need to “take a year off” to travel, volunteer, or work abroad. It is most common for the person taking the year off to use this time to travel. Generally, they will start off with a set amount of money that will use to travel for as long as possible. This explains why a white person with an $800 backpack will haggle with a poverty-stricken street vendor about a $2 dollar plate of food. If you work with this person, be sure to give them a FAKE email address on their last day on the job or you will be inundated with emails about spiritual enlightenment and how great the food is compared to similar restaurants back home. Also, within the first five days following departure, this person will come up with the idea to write a book about their travel experience. Sadly, more books about midtwenties white people traveling have been written than have been read.
Photo by Alex Steffler
Some of the more enterprising white people will extend their time off by working abroad as a bartender, ski lift operator, or english teacher. Their stories, emails, and publishing plans will be identical to the previous white person but will include additional stories about working and complaints about “tourists.” Finally, there is the white person who takes a year off to volunteer at home or abroad. Though they are equally likely to write long emails about their experience, these people are often using the experience as an excellent resume pad for their application to law school. This way they are able to put off real life without the crippling derailment of a career or education. Regardless of how a white person chooses to spend their year off, they all share the same goal of becoming more interesting to other people. Sadly, the people who find these stories interesting are other white people who are politely listening until they can tell their own, more interesting story about taking a year off. Thankfully, there is an enormous opportunity for personal gain. You see, whenever a white person takes a year off it opens up a valuable apartment, job opportunity or admissions slot. Consider it to be the most pretentious form of affirmative action.
DINO COMICS by Ryan North <qwantz.com>
Coulda sworn she was 18? Call Student Legal Services 541-346-3211 t-rex, seriously? comic sans? TheComicPress.com
Page 3: Menswear
Heavenly Horoscopes with Sunflower Goldschmidt
Aries The fates have shown me your financial future is sound, Aries. Now is the time to invest, college style, baby. Take out another student loan and put it all on black! You’re young; you’ll win big.
Cancer It’s a new year, so turn over a new leaf, Cancer, and practice tolerance. Befriend (not bone, we don’t endorse that) a Beaver. And then once you’ve established trust, stab that Beaver.
Libra Spend some time thinking what you’d do if the Ninja Turtles theme song comes on when you’re getting frisky with your partner of choice. Also, your roommate is screwing with your ‘gettin’ frisky’ playlist.
Taurus It’s time to do something about all these goddamned burglaries. Put on your cape and punish these greedy bitches. I want my Nintendo Wii back.
Leo The Comic Press salutes the entrepreneurial spirit, Leo. A kilo of coca leaves retail for $650 in Peru. A kilo of cocaine retails for $180,000 in America. Think about that.
Scorpio Scorpio, the most important step into adult hood is realizing that just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. Don’t let them forget the safe word.
Virgo Winter is rough. Don’t forget to moisturize before you masturbate. Dry skin is the number one deal breaker.
Sagittarius Forget the safe word.
Gemini Sure, you drank way too much last semester, did poorly, and now you’re still recovering from drinking your woes away over Winter break. No criticism, I’m envious. .
Capricorn Next time you think about purchasing music, think back to all the times your parents made you listen to this ‘totally awesome’ album. Don’t be those people. Aquarius Try not to get too caught up with your so-called “priorities.” Stress causes wrinkles, so get drunk and make mistakes. PS: Can anyone loan me bail money? Pisces Ask your TA out for coffee. Either you make a good first impresson or you make a good first impression in bed.
Nonsense Comics by Kate Beaton <www.katebeaton.com>
By Thomas Kramer Thomas@thecomicpress.com Super Mario Brothers is the definitive video game. Your grandpappy can be heard whistling the theme in its entirety, and he can’t even fart without soiling himself, let alone troll the mushroom kingdom for goombas. Try and focus on the article for a minute, then I promise you can go back to fond childhood memories of throwing his war medals off a bridge. This is the greatest selling game of all time, people. 40 million units shipped with no sign of stopping. Super Mario brothers maintains a vice grip on the jugular of gamers across the globe, currently holding a top 10 position on Wii’s Virtual Console marketplace. If you need me to spell it out for you, this game is being purchased by 3rd and 4th time consumers, and still exposing itself to new gamers, young and old alike, AND IT’S ALMOST 25 YEARS OLD. This fucker is a dynasty.
And good thing too, the entire Mario franchise has gone to shit. Sure, I bought Super Mario Galaxy (Wii). So did everyone else. My psyche (and drywall) endured innumerable wii-mote blows in my quest for all 120 stars. Not everyone had the patience for that. I certainly didn’t, but I kept myself motivated with the hope of some post-endgame uber weapon ala the Fierce Deity mask in The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask (N64). So I beat it. The big surprise? I’m now playing as the lankier of the Mario Brothers, Luigi. Did I mention NOW I HAVE TO DO THE WHOLE FUCKING THING OVER?! Boner stained fan-boy exclaims, “But Luigi can jump several pixels higher than Mario, it will be soo much more fun!” WRONG. THIS CHEAP PLOY TO EXTEND THE LIFE OF A MEDIOCRE GAME WILL NOT BE TOLERATED YOU NAZI, DICK-PERFORATED HOOK-
5 Second Review: Hangover Cures
by Collin Gerber - Collin@thecomicpress.com Every good thing comes at a price, even for the most blissful of experiences. The physical pain of birthing your child, the sleep deprivation of a successful final, and the repercussions of an all you can eat Indian lunch buffet, to name a few, are sacrifices we must make to enjoy some of life’s pleasures. The case is no different for that which gives us here at The Comic Press vast inspiration and that is heavy drinking. Below are some treatments that may work for you, and some that may just
be for the entertainment of your roommates.
Continuing to Drink
It is no secret that alcohol alleviates pains and sorrows throughout our lives and - conveniently enough - it has that same effect on the pain that alcohol itself brings us the next morning. If you are lucky enough to wake up after a long night and your drunkenness has not reached the point of a hangover, the best tactic is to keep up the buzz
ERS. “Ahem,” McMuffin greased fanboy interjects, “after you get all 120 stars with Luigi, you get to play the final level for the 121st star, you silly goose!” FUCK YOU. NOT WORTH IT. UNLESS ADRIANA LIMA (pictured below) POPS OUT OF THE SCREEN AT THE END TO BLOW ME IN A TUB OF COCONUT MILK (delicious and soothing!), I DON’T FUCKING CARE. In closing, keep Mario in 8-bit and
you’ll love him forever, but whatever you do don’t remove the proverbial paper bag and put him in HD. That charming jump noise he makes in the original is transmogrified into a Chef Boyardee caricature huffing helium and choking on a moose hemorrhoid. Think about that next time you pop in Super Mario Sunshine (GCN) for a trip down memory lane, you ignorant fuck.
Adriana Lima
“Super” Mario
and make sure you never do reach the dreaded point where your temples start to feel a little too tender. But if your luck only goes as far as waking up having not drowned in your vomit, instead of having it simply dried to your face and hair, not to mention the feeling of internal death, then continuing to drink has a dual function in making you feel better not only from a hangover, but to allow you to forgive yourself for the horrendous scenes you may or may not recall creating.
by it are often from regions where this dish is served regularly. If anything, eating stomach soup may allow you to take your mind off how bad you feel from drinking.
Tripe Soup
This Mexican soup dish, made from chili, garlic and stomachs of various animals (usually cow or sheep) is one cure that some people swear by for quickly alleviating a brutal hangover. Granted, those that swear
Greasy Food
Pounding a double Western Bacon Cheeseburger and onion rings is awesome at any time; almost as awesome as it was (at the time) pounding all those $2 Patron shots at Starlite Lounge last night. But when Lord Carl’s Jr. has the added bonus of soaking up residual alcohol in your stomach, it’s that much better. Go ahead and stuff those arteries for a clear head and productive day; immediate satisfaction always prevails!
Oh Shit, it’s Page 4!
The Comic Press
UNSUNG, UNAMERICAN HEROES
Music That Doesn’t Suck With Your Host: Collin Gerber
Gin
collin@thecomicpress.com
by Abby Kuhn Abby@thecomicpress.com Need another one? The hopeful in possession of this loaded question is desperately trying to get in your pants with the added twist of miserably knowing that drinking alone is just plain sad. Either way you have three choices: “No.” “Yes, but not from you.” Or, “Gin.” Order the gin and then turn your back. The prize was offered and won, why stick around? It’s worth it trust me, even the forced glare you ignore and the envy felt by the loser you turned down cannot compare to the melting feeling of a sweet gin as it slides down your throat. Slipping out of the bar without being violated in more ways than one is another task, but that can wait. Gin has forever been a go-to in the way of emulating class without actually retaining such a quality. Burnt butts of snuffed cigars and lipstick rings on business collars cometo mind when Gin is involved. Ordering one means business and while the respect that comes with a refined taste is essentially uplifting, the heroic aspect of Gin lies in the eye of the beholder. Swirling it is an over share and swilling is out the question. While nursing seems to be popular, the true way
This Week: Martin Denny
Photo by Jlastras
(the unsung way), is to pound the lowball and order another. Doing so is grandiose enough while still responsibly avoiding the topic of allegiance. The best thing about Gin is that there is no risk of an embarrassingly silly name to maneuver around when you need its effects the most. After all, it’s a known rule that no Fuzzy Navels or Bahama Blow Jobs should be consumed until personal experiences of their all-too-real consequences has occurred at some point in your life. So when it comes down to it Gin is a standard. Gin is the reason for millions of Americans to get up in the morning and forgo A.A. It acts as the safety net for our misfortunes and the scapegoat for any complete screw-ups we may make while indulging in it. So order one and toast your next mistake because with Gin on your side in no way will you need to remember it later.
TheComicPress.com
In the last few years there has been a glorious and much-deserved revival of appreciation and in turn re-printings of many classic albums by the lounge and exotica king, Martin Denny. Denny, born in New York in 1911, is the father of the lounge, Hawaiiana and Tiki styles of music which have become synonymous with island culture, 60’s swinging and Mai-Tai swilling. Getting his first record deal in 1955, and releasing his first and currently iconic album Exotica in 1957, Denny’s original approach to music included incorporating exotic instruments and sounds from around the world, as well as bird and animal calls. Percussive bamboo shoots, piano and light xylophone are staples in this Latin and light-jazz inspired genre which has spawned many attempts at re-creation, yet none fully
But seriously folks...
compare. The airy, easy-listening music is a calm, yet dynamic sound, and with the various worldly instruments, each song is different yet strikingly similar in its uniqueness and the mood and imagery it invokes. Having put out nearly forty studio albums in three decades, and boasting 27 and counting compilations even after his death, Martin Denny’s original and timeless music spans generations and is still the perfect soundtrack for any mood and occasion. Check him out onlineΩ, and if you come across some rare Denny vinyl, scoop it up immediately!
Looking for Martin Denny online? The Comic Press staff recommends songza.com, youtube.com, and pandora.com. Ω
We love making The Comic Press. We really do.
thing if you have the spare cash. It’ll let that advertise know that someone is reading this fine newspaper and maybe they’ll decide to renew their ad.
The fact is we can’t do this without the support of our advertisers and we can’t get the support of advertisers without you.
At the end of the day the staff of The Comic Press puts this fine paper out because we enjoy writing it and we hope you enjoy reading it.
Next time you’re in any of the fine business that advertise with us, take a moment and mention you saw their ad in The Comic Press. Heck, buy some-
Thank you. LOVE, The Comic Press Staff
Page 5. If you enter the Temple, turn to page 12
Point/Counterpoint Sharks vs. Bears
By Jake Sauvageau & Jake Sauvageau Jake@thecomicpress.com Foreword: You may have noticed that there is only one author for Point/Counterpoint this week. Normally, my fellow author would debate with me over the subject of the week, but he has come down with a severe case of Gonorrhea. So, like a Grand Champion chess player, I will attempt to play both sides of the board. That’s right: I will provide both the point and counterpoint. Like that chess player, I will access different areas of my brain in order to provide two completely different points. Enjoy!
Question: Which is the superior animal? Shark or Bear? Jake for Sharks: Oh, this is too easy: The shark is a merciless, pitiless, killing machine. It never sleeps, and constantly hunts. Kind of like my priest when I was a choirboy. Jake for Bears: Oh, please. What does a shark “kill?” Little fish? Whatever. Besides, sharks can’t even be on the land. That’s where the shit really goes down. Pretty easy to be a badass when you can swim 100 meters down where no one can find you. Meters? What are you? Fucking Canadian? We’re in the USA, pal. Well, maybe if you’d join the rest of the world, you’d see we’ve moved to the metric system. And pretty big words for a fish whose biggest prey is a salmon. Are you fucking retarded? Salmon and sharks don’t exist in the same part of the ocean. And a shark is a mammal. And salmon? Isn’t that what bears eat? Ooh, scary. Do you go to a special school? And by that, I mean a school for disabled people? A shark is a fish. You’re thinking of whales: All mammals breathe oxygen. Which, I may add, is what a bear does. And bears are scary: Numerous hunters get mauled by bears every year. What? Have you never heard of surfers? Shark attacks are the number one cause of injury to surfers. Yeah, it must be tough to attack a guy stoned out of his mind only wearing a pair of shorts standing on a piece of plywood. Hell, I could be a shark. But hunters: They have rifles. Yet, they still get killed. Now that’s a level playing field. You know what? You’re absolutely right. A hunter drunk on a rack and a half of Busch wearing thirty pounds, whoops: I mean thirty kilograms of winter gear: Yeah, that’s a real samurai warrior right there. You sure they don’t come back because they’re mauled, not because they didn’t trip over a tree root and simply pass out? Okay, first of all, kilograms and pounds don’t weigh the same: Ask any of your pothead surfer buddies and they’ll tell you that. Secondly, bears are frightening. You try facing a 600-pound eight-foot Grizzly on his hind legs without wetting your pants.
Facebook: The Soul of a Greek God By Jordan Eddy Jordan@thecomicpress.com I was in this trendy independent coffee shop, sipping loose leaf tea. It’s the kind of place where you see people you know and say, “I totally wouldn’t have expected to see her in here, cuz she’s kind of a poser. I think the trendy independent coffee shop atmosphere (you know, with vintage things that are actually old and strange hippie people) was stimulating my thinking, because I got into this whole thing about personal identity. Sometimes, I imagine myself as not myself. I don’t mean to be all metaphorical and weird, but I’m that kind of person. Like, I actually say things in class. The other day I was in my religion class and my teacher was like, “What do you guys think this painting means?” and I was like, “The red represents blood, probably.” Anyway, the great thing about being an American is that you can be whoever you want. You know, like an individual. I mean, you can choose—Abercrombie or Hollister? You choose a brand, and then that brand can tell everyone else who you are.
So sometimes I think about myself like that. Like, if my body were made of products, then my eyes would be aviator glasses, my ears would be ipod headphones, my upper body would be an American Apparel hoodie and my legs would be Lucky jeans. That’s when things get confusing, though, because you have to start thinking about souls and all that. What brand would my soul be? Maybe Apple, because it’s simple and yet cuttingedge. Or maybe Nike, because it would be tight to have the soul of a Greek God. Both of those brands describe me really well. That’s when I realized that I wasn’t in an independent coffee shop sipping loose leaf tea and thinking about my identity. I was at home on Facebook, writing about being in an independent coffee shop sipping loose leaf tea and thinking about my identity. No biggie though—it happens all the time. I guess if my soul were a brand, it would be Facebook. Is Facebook a brand? Yes it is, sad Facebook child, yes it is.
LEFT-HANDED TOONS by Justin & Drew
No, that’s much scarier than a two-ton, twenty-foot shark that can regenerate its own teeth. Did you hear me? He replaces his own fucking teeth after losing them!
<www.lefthandedtoons.com>
Wow, big deal. My grandma did that last week when she couldn’t find her dentures. And a bear is tough enough that it doesn’t just “lose” teeth. A bear tears through all kinds of shit, and just comes back for more. A bear eats shit? I’m not surprised. A shark’s diet is a carnivorous one, comprising of fish and humans. Have you ever seen Jaws? What kind of movies are made about bears? Jaws was the scariest fucking movie ever made, man. I saw it as a teenager, and was afraid to take even a bath. Well, that would explain the odor. Fuck you. Fuck yourself. If you want terrifying, all one has to do is look to professional sports to see which animal is more feared: The Chicago Bears, Memphis Grizzlies, Boston Bruins, Chicago Cubs, and numerous college teams, all using the fearsome bear as a mascot. What about the Sharks? Oh, I guess you do have that hockey team that’s never won anything. No, you’re right: And I know that all those bear teams are fierce competitors, too. When was the last Cubs championship? 1908? Well, congrats. The Bruins? 1972? And the Grizzlies won in… in… wait. Never. Fuck you. Sharks? On ice? No, that seriously makes a lot of sense. You know what? Your face makes a lot of sense… for support of third-term abortion. Kiss your mother with that mouth? At least I’m not the product of one meth-fueled night in the back of some mulleted stranger’s 1978 gray-primer Camaro. Yeah, no, bears. Those things are totally associated with awesomeness. What kind of economy are we in? Oh, right. A bear market economy. That’s the one where everything sucks, right? If bears are associated with Republican economies, I guess that makes Bush a bear, right? Wow, you are right: Bears are fucking terrifying.
XKCD by Randall Munroe <www.xkcd.com>
Well, at least I didn’t get caught fucking my cousin behind a Wal*Mart dumpster. What the fuck? I didn’t get caught… Ah! So you admit it! No! I mean, yes, I admit it, but it wasn’t my cousin, it was your mom. Point: Shark. Point Shark? What the fuck does that even mean? Are you drunk right now? I hardly see what that has to do with the situation… If I showed you a picture of a bunch of fish, would you even be able to point out which one the shark is? It’s the big one with the teeth, right? Yeah, but a bear also fits that description! Wait; is a bear the one with the dark fur, growls a lot? Yes! Oh, those guys are pretty badass. No, dude, bears totally rule.
The penis varies in size when flaccid and is pretty consistently about yea big when erect. Anyway, back to the sitcom one-liners and the constant flow of spam.
Page 6, not that you asked
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Big 3 from page 1 Like a diuretic senior, you simply gave up and just kept pushing out shit. Through the 70’s, you kept manufacturing even larger vehicles with even less horsepower. In the 80’s, I guess you decided to rest on your laurels, even though it had been a decade since you had produced anything useful. Once-epic vehicles such as the Ford Mustang were manufactured with only four cylinder engines, stripping away any glory the Mustang once had. While you did figure out to limit the size in your cars, you went way too far, cranking out tiny little shitboxes with even worse engines and interior. In the meantime, ingenious companies like Honda and Toyota were producing cars that my college friends still drive; vehicles their newlywed parents bought brand-new back in 1984. The car has half a million miles on it, and may smoke a bit on startup, but damn it all if it doesn’t still drive and get great gas mileage. Meanwhile, American vehicles from the 80’s have been melted down, as even junkyards don’t want them, or are sitting in a trailer park somewhere, awaiting a new head gasket or inevitable death. Smoke from an American vehicle means, “Run like hell, the damn thing’s likely to blow up.” As the Big Three rolled (barely) into the 90’s, you still felt no need to be innovative. Foreign auto manufacturers were still
Amazing Superpowers by Wes & Troy <amazingsuperpowers.com>
Business has been great since all of his competitors went blind. making leaps and bounds, and finetuning the smallest details so that a car would run like it was supposed to: A machine. But you decided to cut more jobs, and penny pinch to the point where any kid who ever grew up in an American car can tell you about the paint that flaked off your vehicles like sunburned skin, or the doors that never seemed to shut quite right due to inferior design and cost cuts on even the most basic of amenities. Rumor has it that you had ideas for an electric car some 20 years ago. It’s also been said that you’ve had the technology to make a vehicle run more than 80 miles
on a single gallon of gas. There are people - upstart inventors who have been able to make this happen in one form or another within their garages. But nothing from you? There are all sorts of guesses as to why this is: Your underground deals with the oil companies, fear that your technology would be copied by everyone, the backlash that you could have done it years ago, etc. etc. etc. Maybe this is true; maybe it’s not. But then, your CEOs, your multi-million dollar salary CEOs, show up in private jets to beg for the safety their companies? How stupid do we look? You must think we’re dense if you thought that we were
Valentine’s Day Special
$14.99 February 14th. Includes glass of champagne!
going to continue to buy your sub-standard crap over all these years. And a specific note to Chevrolet: You say you need money, but you are the top-selling car in China? Where’s all that money gone? Or are they different “divisions,” a way for you not take responsibility for your entire company, just the parts that are failing? Thank God seniors are so pro-American, otherwise you guys would have been dead long ago. See, they remember the heyday of American vehicles: They remember what it was like to drive a piece of machinery that would start every morning. And if didn’t, it was usually a fairly easy fix. But for us? For your next generation of new car buyers? We don’t see it. For us, we believe that the equation is American Auto = Crap. And while you have finally come around in the new millennium to begin making a decent car, it’s too late. You are a bunch of liars. We had faith in you. The kind of faith that led us to continue to buy your shit for 30 years after you ceased to be inventive. I am sorry that all those union labor workers would lose their jobs, but I bet that if we took a sixteenth of the money that you guys want from the government, we could create some fantastic jobs for them. So, in summation, fuck you guys. You had the chance, and you blew it. Studebaker, Packard, Hudson: All American automakers that met their fate because they could not adapt. And you can’t either. You should have thought about this years ago when your business plan was to continue to sell us shit. If you are not innovating, then you cease to be useful. You grow, or you die. Time to have a few funerals. Sincerely, Jake Sauvageau
Sweet Life Review By Alayna Shulman Alayna@thecomicpress.com Sweet Life is probably most famous for annihilating the competition virtually every year in the Eugene Weekly’s “Best of Eugene,” specifically in the “Best Bakery” category. But is this reputation well-earned, or are you better off staying home with a box of Funfetti? TCP finds out. The first thing one sees upon entering Sweet Life is, well, the sweets. There’s no escaping them. While a less established patisserie might first try to lure you in with garish decorations or even free samples, Sweet Life doesn’t bother with that. The entrance puts you face-to-face with a gelato counter boasting exotic flavors such as “Tahitian Vanilla” and “Crème de Menthe” (because “Mint Chocolate Chip” would be too pedestrian). Nearby is the massive dessert counter, filled to maximum capacity with tarts, éclairs, petit fours, slices of cheesecake and pie, and more. To complement your dessert of choice is the not-tobe-missed beverage list, which includes a range of herbal teas, as well as an extensive selection of organic coffee and espresso. And for those of you who aren’t so keen on sweets, there is also a decently equipped selection of heartier fare, such as sun-dried tomato calzones, quiche, breakfast croissants and homemade pot pies. Though a bakery so renowned for its food alone might not always rank high on ambience, Sweet Life has a surprisingly cozy, hospitable atmosphere, complete with sherbet-colored walls and quaint artwork. Trendy music plays that sounds as though it belongs at a Victoria’s Secret fashion show, but not so loudly that conversation can’t flow. Of course, the music’s volume is a moot point if you come on a Friday or Saturday night, when the line can wrap around the block à la Disneyland, and inside it’s as noisy as any campus-area bar. And as with just about any retail establishment, Sweet Life is no stranger to register-adjacent “impulse buys,” including brownie mix, dog treats, birthday cards (all $3.00 – I’ll stick with Shoebox, thanks), day-old pastries, various party supplies, Sweet Life T-shirts and tank tops, and $1.50 bags of coconut shreds, marshmallows and chocolate chips. Sweet. Sweet Life is located at 755 Monroe Street (541683-5676). Open Monday through Friday 7:00-11:00, and Saturday/Sunday 8:00-11:00.
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Y
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Virus Comix by Winston Rowntree <www.viruscomix.com>
A poem by Jake Sauvageau - Jake@thecomicpress.com Trustafarian, Rasta! Are you feeling irie? Sitting out in front of the dorms Playing your guitar. Trustafarian, Rasta! Your hair is so natty! I’ve never seen a rich white kid with dreadlocks. But it works on you! Trustafarian, Rasta! Do you have the ganja? Is that how you find Zion and reject Babylon? Though at home in California, you are Catholic. Trustafarian, Rasta! You heard Bob Marley, and it changed your life. You too know what it was like to grow up tough Living on the mean streets of Nob Hill. Trustafarian, Rasta! Embrace the earth, and all that thrive. Take in the scent of patchouli, clove cigarettes, and ass. Oh, that’s you. Trustafarian, Rasta! Living your life, here at the University of Oregon. Reject the baldheads who ask that you learn! Instead, expand your mind with tie-dye and drum circles! Trustafarian, Rasta! You embody the spirit of Jah! Following only some of the rules that dictate your beliefs! Now, eat your Panda Express sweet and sour pork. Trustafarian, Rasta! What will you do when you barely finish school? Go back to Cali and work for your dad’s business? Oh, everything will be fine.
Reduce
Try not picking up the Daily Emerald for a few days. Admit it, you just read it for 15 minutes in class, do the puzzles then leave it on the chair and the next person who sees it is all like, “lame, someone did all the puzzles already.”
The Comic Press Classifieds 4
Eighty-something man with Alzheimer’s, searching for… <> 446
Looking for your pants and dignity? I believe I saw them at last night’s party. Welcome to college. <> 774
SWM seeks SWF with loving personality, benign tumor. <> 392
Try to look past the leprosy. <> 889
SWF seeks Patrick Stewart. <> 934
Sikh seeks chic Sheik for shtupping. <> 842
If you're willing to say you don't have Gonorrhea, then so am I. <> 724
You: female, humanoid, tolerable. Me: Not picky. <> 121
You: blonde, intoxicated, freshman, female. Me: Fraternity Bro seeking study partner. Literacy optional. Expected grade and cup size: D <> 249
SWF seeks companion. Likes: long walks on the beach, candlelit dinners, people with no lips. <> 148
You: redhead, perky, walking down 5th. Me: Telescope, Vaseline, tears. Haven't seen you lately, let's meet up. <> 154
I said I’d never do this again. <> 274
Looking for love in all the wrong places? That's because ears are not for sex. <> 234
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