Knonsense : The Dark Ages
Featuring: THE BUBONIC PLAGUE! and Sexy Plague Doctor Masks!
Issue #180 Fall 2019
i’m so funny... if only i had an activity to partake in on thursday nights. what’s this?? a comedy troupe, perhaps this is my lucky day!!
General Meetings: Thursdays 9:23 PM, Breslin 216 Art/Writer Meetings: Fridays 2:30 PM, Breslin 216
Table of Contents
Cover- Mark Melchin 2- Ads- Millie Hart and Sam Riebs 3- The Page You're Looking at right now Bro 4- Staff + Mailbag 5- Family Photo - Ethan Duran 6- Editorial - Lizzie Frank and Brynne levine 7- Jingle Jangle - Mattie Brown 8- Danny Devito - Jules Dickinson- Frevola 9- Let’s Start an Economy- William Faber 10- Thereupon Wayward Skies Approach- Mark Melchin 11- Help… Plague Mask- Link Rosser ; You Died- Robert Kinnaird 12- Dogs- Brandon Allen 13- Business or Pleasure- Brandon Allen 14- Alchemist High - Brandon Allen 15- Time Travel Arson- Robert Kinnaird 16- Joan of Arc- Brynne Levine ; Turnip Comic- Robert Forte 17- Pick Your Poison- Brandon Allen ; AKAB- Robert Kinnaird 18- Proof that I’m Not A Witch- Mattie Brown 19- 5 Possible Causes of the Plague- Robert Kinnaird 20- Swords- Robert Forte 21- Article- Lizzie Frank ; They Might Be Giants- Robert Kinnaird 22- In Love with a Dragon- Eli Grasso 23- What’s in my Bag? - Sam Riebs 24- Back Cover- Millie Hart
executive Board Editor in Chief: Lizzie “public cop” Frank Managing Editor: Brynne “private eye” Levine Head Writer: William “known grocery shopper” Faber Art director: Sam “not a phone in sight” Riebs Treasurer: Lilly “hurdy gurdy” Tennyson Social Media Manager: Rob “Shakespeare’s bitch” Kinnaird Design Director: Mark “undercover Nicholas Cage” Melchin Assitant Editors: Brandon “former farmer, current royalist” Allen Millie “Henry VIII’s lost wife” Hart Video Heads: Emmett “my future housemate” Goebel Nathan “hay bale...hay bale… Hey there” Elliott
Mailbag There is a dragon on my roof! What do I do?! Tell it there’s a maiden trapped in yonder mountain. Hey, that bubbling cauldron seems hot! You’re not gonna dump me in there are you? Heck yea, I am whatcha gonna do about that bro? My family screams each time I come in as my uniform, Plague Doctors aren’t THAT scary, right? They’re just doctors, harbingers of death, normal doctor stuff. Now obviously smallpox is good, but why does it hurt so bad? Don’t fucking ask again. I lost my holy sword! How do I get it back from the knight? Set a dragon on him My family believes me to be a witch. Just because I use magic to smite my enemies doesn’t make me a witch, right? Absolutely not you’re just a special little snowflake
Art Staff Sam Riebs Mark Melchin Jules Dickinson-Frevola Brandon Allen Millie Hart Robert Kinnaird
Wr i t i n g S t a f f Giovanna “The Boneless nugget” Dexter Mattie “Banana Peele” Brown Jules “King Bark” Dickinson-Frevola Maggie “Hairy Breeches” Moore Eli “Fred Flintstone” Grasso Link “Irontooth” Rosser Robert “medium evil” Forte
Editorial steemed mortals,
Have you seen that episode of Criminal Minds about anthrax? If so, close this mag-
Hear ye, hear ye: thus lies a most mid-evil issue of Mr. Nonsense,
azine right now you Matthew Gray Gubler apologist.
Hofstra’s premier dumbass magazine for
No but I’ve seen the medieval episode
stupid fucks. If you’re reading this, congrats dumbass, you are a stupid fuck. Many have questioned our intentions (interns) with a medieval issue. They say, Brynne and Lizzie, “you are so beautiful” (code: why are slugs falling out of ur nose) and we would like to give you each “$100” (code: jail time). Then they say, “A medieval issue? You’re insane! People can’t read.” And that, deer reader (this is an issue for deer(s)), is precisely the crux of what makes Medieval-sense so topical. The medieval time period was marked by illiteracy, plague, lack of showers and gay pining. And that’s what Nonsense (and the larger Hofstra community) is all about! Why did we do a Medieval issue, when just last semester we released Poppycock, essentially a Victorian issue? Well there’s a big difference. Enjoy your plague, no showers, and plague. We have put a little pinch of anthrax in between the pages of each copy of Medieval sense, so you can really get a
of Criminal Minds when Matthew G(r)ay Gubler is a “knight.” If so, rip this magazine into a million pieces and make Matthew Gray Gubler reassemble it, You Matthew Gray Gubler apologist. What we are trying to say, in 21st century speak, is what are the vibes my good homosexuals? Honestly, this Medieval issue SEEMED like a good idea, but then MCR got back together, and now we have way more important things to rejoice over. Anyone want to see them when they go on tour with me and my dad? So thanks for picking up this magazine. Now put it back down and stream Victorious season 1 on Netflix. But only to watch Beck and Jade. Gay-Lesbian solidarity.. So long and goodnight, -Brynne and Lizzie
grip on what we’re talking about.
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: Nonsense Humor Magazine is Hofstra’s only intentional semi-humorous magazine. Please do not take any of our advice as most of us are illiterate, haven’t showered in days, and have fleas (and that’s looking at e-board alone, don’t even get us started on general members). The views expressed in this magazine almost certainly do not represent the views of Hofstra University or the historian community. Any likeness to people, places, time periods, historical figures, Culture & Expression required texts, or other publications is purely coincidental. Nonsense Humor Magazine is not responsible for any pitchfork, wagon, or laughing incidents that may be experienced while reading this. Stay snuffy!
Jingle Jangle!
I’m a Prisoner of War Now :^( By Mattie Brown Hark! I am Francis Fredrick, former fool to King Forsyth IV. This Shall be the final letter I pen. For once the Sun rises over yonder upon this morn mine head will rest, not upon mine shoulders, but on a spike outside the Kingdom. This tantalizing yet terrible tale of treachery began like many a day in the palace did: with an orgey. King Forsyth IV spread his noble seed across thy Kingdom cum, only to be interrupted whilst balls deep in a bowl of pudding (Methinks one could say he was... putting it to the pudding! Guffaw! Guffaw! I am pissing mine self laughing. Oh me oh my what mirth.) Anyhow, King Forsyth IV’s fantastical fuck fest was sullied upon the arrival of our rival Kingdom’s troups. Mine mind’s eye was preoccupied with the merry little gig I was dancing while getting fucked up on opium. All I recall was shouting “Doth thou accuse mine Lord of being a piss bitch?” Then I woke up nailed to a cross. Mine Mother always did tell me I ought to do an apprenticeship and learn a proper trade like my brother, Philiup. Alas, Philiup shit himself to death a fortnight ago. Let us speak no more in regards to mine shitty brother
(HAHA! Poop! What a rascal I am). I shall tell thou how I found myself forced to make like thou mother, and fall to mine knees and give head. (Bazinga! I am on a roll. Just like mine head shall do. Tee hee hee.) After I awoke to find myself crucified for the terrible crime of not being catholic enough, I began to jesterly pester passerbys passing by. I would shout: “Aye! Ye be a dandy brick layer. I know what ye can lay next. Or mayhaps I ought to say whomst ye can lay next.” I must admit I said that one many a times, to many a brick layers. There wasn’t much else going on. Yet I found ways to pass the time. I sang songs, recited limricks, and asked the guard riddles over and over until he wept, for he could not bare to hear mine voice anymore. I was moved to the dungeons. I was greatful to be able to dance and prance about again. I also had a much larger audience to preform for. The crowd went wild for me. They would get so excited they would throw what little food they had at me and scream “Shut the fuck up!” What peculiar customs these people have. I was also interrogated during this time. As the favorite fool of King Forsyth IV I attended every royal event. Every night that
I prerformed for him he wound up crying from laughter. Mayhaps I had over heard important information. Mayhaps this could have saved mine life. Alas, I have always been a forgetful old knave. In fact, Mother always did say I would lose mine head if it wasn’t attatched to mine body. (How very right she was. Fiddle dee dee, how funny fate can be. Yuck! Yuck!) And so I was tortured. They would whip me then ask “What say you fool?” and each time I would reply: “You could at least take me out to dinner first,” until my tormenters were fed up. They tried many different types of torture but all that happened was they got more and more irratated with me. This made me roar with laughter, which only made matters worse. After two weeks, they gave up and sentenced me to death. ‘Twas the quickest anyone has ever taken to go from imprisonment to death. (What can I say? I always come quick. HA!) Can you believe it? Little old me, breaking records and making my mark on history. And people tried to say I would never make anything of mineself being a court Jester. Well guess what? Jingle jangle, I’m a prisoner of war! :^(
The Holy Danny Devito
I’ve Got Ore and You’ve Got Swords: Let’s Start a Bitchin’ Economy By William Faber Bro, I can’t believe how long we’ve ignored the opportunity staring us in the face. I’ve got ore. You’ve got swords. Let’s start a freakin’ economy baby! There’s nothing I’d rather do! Look, fuck the king’s coins: let’s make this trade. I’ll give my goods for your goods, just like our grandpappy’s used to do. I know you need this ore cause it’s what the swords are made out of. Yeah, I did my research on this shit. You wouldn’t even have to give me a receipt; I don’t want a paper trail. Sure, I could pay with coins, but you know they’re tracking those right? I don’t want to end up on some kind of list. We’ve got an opportunity to be entrepreneurs, small business owners, money makers! Okay, yes you’re already a small business, and, yes, we’ve established that I’m not paying you with money, but don’t you feel that? We’re tapping into the raw market forces at work here. I assure you that I acquired this ore through the most legal of means. I obtained it by hand. I do need to get rid of this whole minecart today, but that’s just ‘cause it’s heavy! Trust me, this stuff’s hot, not in a stolen way though; it’ll be gone in a flash. I’m letting you in on the ground floor buddy! Sure, I’ll leave. You’re loyal to the king, that much I can see. But are you really telling me that you wouldn’t trade all of this ore for a single sword. What about that one? That’s a great deal! Come on, just let me back inside and all this ore will be yours for the measly price of one sword. Thanks for letting me back in, man. It’s real cold out there. Yeah, this one looks good! Nice and sharp. Handles well. It’s perfect! The ore is yours; it’s just outside the door there. Ooooooooh, sorry. Looks like I just stabbed you in the back with a sword you made. That’s tough. If I knew how to read, I’d probably call that irony, but I can’t, so I won’t. I’m sorry about this. I really am. It’s a dog eat dog world out there, and you handed me a fucking sword.
9
Thereupon Wayward Skies Approach translated into an illegible dialect by Mark Melchin
Aye by that daer Hwarfday 7th of May, fourth be time
highest tower in all, the Castle of King .
of the first day I woke. It was dreary upon that early
Cordinto upon the day I arrived at the castle, some
frumpday afternoon when squire bortle came running
6 stone after my last meal, I meetsted the knight of the
from across the din to palaver with i. there was no stench
gate of Castle Castle. He barred mineself from entrin
that gripped the nasal like the way his unwashed be-
the giant of stone, afterwhich he warned that he’d pierce
hoovement reached into the depths of mine nose, though
my belly raw with his silver dagger. Rathre than egg
it be present in all persons, as nay nobody had yet the
this percivalcretin into an engagement, I ran through
encourage to invent showers in Medieval Europe. I read
the moat upon which he gaurds, and ran upon a gator,
to him bunches of newspaper clippins, of the mysterious
king of the geckos, to greet me with sharpened teeth
kind from yea before, an yet to hear what he had to say
of knives. He tore my bodie limb from limb, until he
of doomsay foretold, for upon 12 mints a dragon came
happened upon the fact that it was the guard’s bod he
and lay upon mine weary house.
chewed, as I flee upon the castle gates. Once inside I see
The dragon scales read me backward, reflectin my truestness of frightfulkind unto mine own eyes. The dragin, king of the geckos, roared upon me a froughtful belch,
the damnest trueness of the rumors, as the castle secret sits upon the front of my own eyes. Frightening sound come from where the village people
which singed the utmost tips of the hairs which grow
gather, angered to death by the words which upon I
‘pon mine scalp. Fore I heard squire bortle yelp and run,
destroyed their honor. Chased me they across the moat,
I haerd him utter the truest phrase that’s been delt by
slayin the croc like a baby goat. They climb the walls of
any other than king or pastor: “Methinks upon this ugly
20 stone high, descend upon the knights, pulling them
lizard, sits at home a mighty wizard.” For it be true the
apart like a fancy dinner. I hide in shadow in the room of
mighty wizard sat, with hat, but of no relevance to the
throne, whilest the angered villagers be shown upon the
narrative at all be that.
ghastfulness which I discovered.
I read the rocks and ran to the side of ways, as whats
The King sat there, in shock and awe, as the whole
once been referred to as left, and runned toward the
village see his ghastly interest. Stands there no man, but
south of mine domain.
a grimey turtle removing costume of skin. The children
Villagepersons screamed and cried, wondrin what type
wept and mothers shrieked, for they’d been pawns in
of evil bethrups their future, and I lead upon them the
King Turtle, king of the geckos, game of elaborate chess.
callous of warns: “Runnest to the castle keep, there we’ll
They slain the king and freed themselfs.. We sighed
find your mom; lmao!” Angered by my grumpnestful
relief in our successful pillage, although the dragon had
jape, the townspeople I ran forth toward the place the
whereby destroyed the village.
Help, I can’t c*m if I don’t wear my plague mask! by Link Rosser The Black Death has been raging through every kingdom around for a while, and I’ve found myself a nice, steady career as a plague doctor. It’s pretty nice, I get to help fix these disgusting freaks, toss their bodies in the community corpse hole, and get a little intimate sometimes wherever I’m contracted. All in all, it’s a pretty sweet gig, but after being at it for a few years, I’ve encountered an issue: I can’t ejaculate without that damned mask on! Not too long ago I had a patient to go and treat — Godly, handsome son of a knight with some nasty lesions. I start checking out the buboes around his groin, one thing leads to another, and we’re getting down to business. Everything goes perfectly! I’ve got my mask on and stuffed with lavender, no one is jacking my swag, and I successfully bust a nut. I go about my day, finish jobs and head out for a drink, which is where it goes downhill. I’ve been seeing this hot maiden who hangs around the inn, she’s not plagued, and she looks pretty sturdy. Super cool, right? We go back to my boarding, head to the straw pile and start going at it, but something just feels... wrong. She’s womanly, healthy, and her dad owns land, but I just can’t quite get there, if you know what I mean. I gave her some herbs as a parting-apology gift, but still, the whole experience was pretty damaging to my confidence. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day until I finally realized: it’s the mask! Well, not really just any mask, I’ve tried just covering myself with a simple sack and no luck. That was a shameful encounter that I’d rather not get into, but I digress. I’ve grown so accustomed to the power—the rush that the mask gives me when I’m wearing it that I just can’t get lustful without it. Even a prince couldn’t woo me unless I have the mask on. If any fellow medical professionals (or witches, I’m inclusive) have any ideas, please share. I’d like to cum inside a lover while actually looking them in the eye.
Lo! a fine docga!
egads!!! i b screw’d!
Th’doggs r upon me!
beware ye Th’dogo
By Brandon Allen
By Brandon Allen
Business or Pleasure The Put-Holes-In-You Box.
In medieval Europe, cow cooks you!
(generally pretty hot)
You could probably do it in there.
Makes you a long boi...
Finger breaker.
Long bois kinda sexy.
Now we’re getting kinky!
Back breaky wheel.
Ye olde choker.
Now you can try out all those new positions.
This one’s a classic.
Splitting you in half. I guess if you’re into that.
Don’t look down though... you’ll die
Stocks. Ah yes. Stocks. Just good old fashioned humiliation. Lovely.
I Have Found The Elixir of Life! Or Mayhaps I Just Got Really High... by: Brandon Allen
Sat within this eerie chamber, I have worked and toiled and laboured. Struggled, studied, searched and strifed… me thinks I’ve th’elixir of life… or maybe I just got really high. Alchemistry through which I’ve ired, night and day no rest I tire I’ve created the all-things-fixer. Reviving life and soul elixir!.. or maybe I got even higher! but I have in fact drank the drink and brought myself up to the brink, I felt revived and saw and thinked amazing things with every blink… or maybe I just got really high… yeah… yeah I probably just got really high. Hmmm, looking back upon my notes, of things I thought and scribed and spoke, perhaps I truly must surmise… that I in fact, indeed was high (What was “Sword but for mermaids” meant to imply!!!). Yes I see from my ingredients, which I used with much indeed-ience, to which I found at first pristine, were mostly composed of just chlorine. Heated up and into vapors, to which I was the sole partaker. Yes, I remember now, indeed… I also smoked a lot of weed. Ummm, yes, you know, I think… nevermind… I did in fact just get high…
I am the Greatest Arsonist of All Time So Why Can’t I Burn This Castle?
Throughout all of time and space, I have been essential to human progress. Using my time machine, I travel through the annals of history, showing up wherever I’m needed, and burning shit to the ground. Library of Alexandria? That was me. White House 2020? Me again. I exist for one reason. To burn so new architecture can take root and societies can modernize. I am the singular cause of human advancement. But for the life of me I just can’t get this damn castle to burn. There’s never been a time that hasn’t been made better by arson. Progress is defined by flammability and I am the harbinger of progress. Everything I burn comes back greater than before. Y’all have Vancouver right now? Just wait for Vancouver 2. All me. But no time has frustrated me more than the medieval era. The wooden structures, the peasants live in? Too replaceable. There’s no joy in burning down the property of a serf when they only own two things! They’re back in a day and no better! How can I force these people to make progress when anyone with a progressive thought gets burned to death by Catholics! That’s not how you arson! Burn places! Not people! And castles? God don’t get me started! How can I cleanse the countryside of their horrible presence so new structures can be buily when they refuse to build anything flammable! It’s always limestone this, granite that. Never once have I been so embarrassed as when I was caught rubbing strike anywhere matches against King George’s castle. I, the man responsible for the decimation of Notre Dame and the Empire State Building (just wait for that one), and I get chased away by guards armed with nothing more than crossbows? Pathetic. I returned again, just a day later, this time with a Molotov cocktail and a hankering for soot, but when I threw it against the wall, it just shattered. No spread
at all! What the hell! Again and again I returned, trying flamethrowers, gasoline, even elaborate Rube Goldberg machines involving napalm and water pistols full of lighter fluid, but still. Nothing. I returned the next day, armed with an RPG and an industrial welding kit, but the villagers got one look at my welding mask and called me “the black knight” before chasing me out of town with pitchforks. The next day I return with an airplane and a few firebombs, but within minutes they riddled it with arrows, causing me to crash. They spent the whole night singing of slaying a dragon the damn fools. Is there nothing I can do to burn this place to the ground? I know for a fact that in 2019 this location is a Wetzel’s Pretzels, so clearly I succeed eventually, but I have no idea how I’m supposed to do it. I’ve tried everything and still I make no progress. I’m the greatest arsonist to ever live and yet I cannot burn a bunch of 13 th century nobodies living in their own shit! I need to step up my game. I’m at my wit’s end. These people know nothing about progress. I simply wish to turn everything they know to ash so that the renaissance can take hold. Someone’s gotta tear everything down so something new can rise! I’m about to give up and just let these pathetic people sort it out themselves. I don’t have to help civilizations advance! I burn entire cities down out of the goodness of my heart, but these people are just ungrateful. Maybe I just have to try a new strategy… Yes, arson is the coolest way to wipe out the blight of society, but sometimes you gotta do something new. I always force others to make progress and innovate, yet here I am trying the same old techniques. Maybe I can learn something from these peasants after all. So anyway, I put some weird viruses in a rat. Let’s see what happens.
-Robert Kinnaird
I’m Not Gay But... Have You Seen Joan of Arc? By Brynne Levine Okay, so it’s medieval times. Grain, cows, dying at the age of 12 after living a very full life of contracting the plague, you get the picture. Bitches be wearing chainmail! We get it! But when knights wear it, I’d never really…. Noticed it. I mean, yes, it’s shiny, it’s bright, it’s made out of metal. But there’s always just been…. A dude ... in there? Nothing against knights I guess (AKAB), because if I were to say anything bad about knights (AKAB), it would be blasphemy (knights suck). I rather like not having my head chopped off by a stupid old mword (male sword). But whatever, chainmail? Armor? On knights, kinda boring. Never really in my mind, never really in my line of vision, eye-catching? Maybe for you, but for me? No.
But then…… I saw real chainmail for the first time….. I saw armor on a body… Not just any body and………. Okay. I got it. I’m not gay. Let me get that straight. Like me. I’m married (to a serf), I will have one million children one day, and I will die. Just straight people things. That’s me, that’s my life. Back to chainmail. Mail. Amor? It was made for Joan of Arc. Okay? Have you fucking SEEN HER. I mean… breast plates were made for women to wear I am not afraid to say that shit. Joan of Arc, we all know her. We all get it, she’s in the town square, she’s talking about religion and christianity and other shit (I’m a jew). I’m listening (not really), I’m watching (oh hell yes), how can I not. She is standing on those steps and armor has never shined so bright as it has when on her body. She’s hot, not just because she’s being burned at the stake, she’s sexy, I love to look at her (not being burned at the stake, AKAB). She’s got bangs. Unreal. She’s wearing armor. Insane. She’s got a fucking sword. A sword. A sword. Do you get it? Do you understand. She is actively holding a sword…. In her hand. That’s where a sword was meant to be, in her hand, near her armor. In my hand. We are kissing, holding a sword. One sword. Femme sword. I’m not gay….. I just think it might be neat if Joan of Arc and I held hands….. Using our lips….. Wearing chainmail.
Pick Your Poison By Brandon Allen
Pick your poison, just kidding you don’t have a choice… Heh, I thought of that one last night. Aye, as I sat at the pub, y’know the one? The dimly lit, creeky wood, like, tough guy tavern where the hero goes before they start their quest? Aye, that’s me, the hero, but I was already on my quest... to the Well of Miracle Water! Source of all life in the land. I was halfway through it, but not really, cause it’s an open world… sandbox… style… the pub… you know what, I poisoned him! Actually I poisoned everyone in the pub, all at once, when they collectively weren’t looking. The Royal Guard came to put a stop to me, a ravishing rogue. “Poison the tavy you get the stabby!” one of them said. I made a daring getaway, out the window, onto the back of my trusty steed, except I forgot I poisified my horse before I went in. They surrounded me, but what they didn’t know is that I know karate! Actually, I don’t know karate, I just poisoned them too. Such is my lot in life, perusing village to village, toxicicating the town water supplies and having to kill everyone there. Don’t make that face, you think I do this on purpose? You think I want to poison everything I see? Because I do… I love doing this. I leave a trail of sweet venomation everywhere I go, if you go into the woods you’ll only see a trail of death leading into the village. In any event, on to the next one. What a lovely village, I set pace for the pub. Upon entering and sitting down, the bar keep turns to me, “What’s your poison?”. I smile: [I have my own…] [Anything that gets the job done…] [Poison barkeep]<<<— Yes, this is my purpose! All the king’s horses and all the king’s men… were poisoned by me and have just met their end. The king too, when he wasn’t looking. I am like Robin Hood, I steal from the rich and give to the poor! And by ‘steal’ I mean ‘poison’ and by ‘give’ I also mean ‘poison!’ I finally managed to come across the final boss… I mean antagonist… I mean, the dragon! The dragon that guards the Well, waters with supernatural healing properties! It was a most epic battle! The dragon thrashed around, yeeting his fire. It was a long fought battle… and, fuck it, I used my icky toxicky and well… the well’s fucked. Noice…
5 Items That Prove I’m Not a Witch By Mattie Brown
Me hanging with the neighborhood kids ;^) Nothing suspicious going on ;^) I’m just a friendly old lady. I’m not trying to acquire anyone’s first born ;^)
Mmmm. soup. Nice, normal soup.
What this? A witch hat? Umm... It’s called fashion, sweatie.
That’s just me back scratcher ;^) No magic wands Anywhere! Scratchy scratchy ;^)
Oh wow, How did this get here? Gee whiz I don’t know what this says. I’m just a dumb woman I can’t read.
5 Reasons God Cursed Us With the Plague A complaint from a local peasant Transcribed by Friar Robert of Kinnaird
Ah these young anti-feudalist folks and their questioning of the status quo. They be what’s wrong with this fine land. Nothing good doth come of questioning feudalism or thinking a-bout the world. That be for God to do and none other. Surely the king be the king because God decided it so! But still, ye meddled in what thou do not know and now here be the plague on our people. Surely this must be the fault of the young women of the land. I: Witches These young women and their witchcraft. When I was young my mother never practiced any of this magic like “medicine.” She simply popped me out her womb and died on the table. Those were the good old days. Now it seems that if she breatheth she doth be a witch, and if she a witch she be spreading the plague! God doth punish us all for the sorcery an’ mischief of the women of the wood with this illness! II: Moral corruption Ay what good God would not strike us all ill with the moral shortcomings of this land. Doth thou think yee shall not drop dead whenst thou tramp around in lace that cover not your knees? For shame! God followeth mine specific moral code and not the codes of any others. This free thy ankle movement will surely be the death of us all. If the plague doth not wipe us all out first, next they’ll be demanding more female barons. I’ll have it not. I may just work some lord’s field for their profit but I’ll droppeth dead before I work for a woman! III: The girl reading this You hath brought this upon us. Thou shouldst not be literate. For shame. IV: Diversity Was it not enough I had to share a country with the Normans and the Francs? Now these young people doth demand religious and racial tolerance? Bah. Ay when I be just a young lad we went on crusades when people just mentioned other gods. Now they expect us to live side by side? Anything that forces me to experience something different doth be a sin and if it be a sin of course we be punished with this illness. V: Robin Hood I know not what this “class consciousness” Robin Hood speaks of, yet I am sure it is a cause of this death. Those whomst question the ruling class are certain to bring us doom and misery. Ay I know my place as a peasant and for this I have not fallen ill. I work hard for our feudal lords so God hath smiled upon me. Meanwhile these young women demand “living wages” and “access to literacy.” For shame. No wonder god striketh them ill.
DEFINITIVE WEAPON REVIEWS THAT ARE OBJECTIVEY CORRECT by Robert Forte
Posted January 8th, 2017
Hi everyone. It’s me Spearguy210. As you all know, I’ve ran this weapon reviewing blog for a while now and I think a quick lightning round would work well for our 6 month anniversary. So here’s my basic thoughts on of a handful of weapons: Sword (Any Kind) I’ve said this before, but wielding a sword is one of the worst sins, they talk about it in the Bible. It’s a drain on the steel industry, can’t even be tossed, and frankly, its annoy- ing. If you’re trying to mail me an angry letter about this, I’m just gonna assume you’re uncircumcised and throw it in the fire. You should use this if: You hate sex You can’t tie your shoes Your teeth are yellow Overall Score: -273/10 Spear (Any Kind) Where do I even start? Range is huge, crafting is simple, it’s versatile, can be paired with a shield, makes stabbing way more fun than it already is, and it can be thrown?!? OH yeah, this is a certified hood classic. You should use this if: You smart You want to go to heaven You don’t want to die Overall Score: ∞+1 The Mega Infinity Sword of Jesus (Non-Secular) There’s a few cool things about this weapon, but it’s one flaw is glaring. For one, it can take out over a hundred men with only one slash, which isn’t bad. Second, it can apparently control all of the 4 elements. This sword also has the wisdom of 12 ancient kings inside. But, alas, a sword is a sword, and thus, I wouldn’t touch it even if it was slathered in womanly juices. You should use this if: You are pure of heart and cannot die There’s no non-sword weapons in a 400 mile radius Overall Score: 1/10. The best sword < The worst spear Battleaxe (BIG ONE) You axe fans are on thin ice, but I will commend the don’tgive-a-fuck attitude y’all have about killing. It works for you, and that’s nice. My biggest problem is that all of you really like blood. It’s a bit much for me. You should use this if: You know a lesbian or are a lesbian You can do a pull-up You’re all caught up with The Walking Dead Overall Score: 6/10 8/10 if you are a lesbian
Divorce Papers (Already Signed) I was definitely surprised when I first saw this weapon, which isn’t a bad strategy. My now ex-wife used this against me after realizing I was “worse than if Mao Zedong was a scientologist”, whatever that means. It didn’t really harm me, but she did take half of my stuff afterwards. Jokes on her because every penny I obtain is used to buy spears. Hope you like having 382 spears, CAROL! ... Bitch ... You should use this if: You’re my wife It’s just not working Overall Score: 4/10 A dagger with a stick duct taped to the handle At first, I thought, man this is really lazily put together. But if you think about it, it’s just a shitty spear. Because of that, I love this weapon, and would rather marry it than any other uneducated bitch that I met at a bar. You should use this if: You’re still not over your Ex-wife You have a dagger, a stick, and some duct tape Overall Score: 9/10. It got me through hard times, okay? Spear of Testing (LONG) Ah yes, the spear of testing. You see dear reader, I have a little home ritual that I have with my children. If, after 48 hours of living, my child doesn’t say three things they love about this spear, I brutally stab them. Alternatively, if they even think about a sword (and trust me I can tell), I still stab them. I’ve done this over 9 times, and lets just say none of them are losers. Little Timmy was almost close, with two compliments down, but I saw how his forehead squirmed and knew he had a sword thought. You should use this if: You don’t want virgin ass kids You love the scientific method You want to drive away love from your life so you can focus on your medieval newsletter that no one even reads Overall Score: 8/10 at first, but 9/10 after the 7th baby kill. Trebuchet (Meme) My thoughts regarding the Trebuchet are vastly complicated and I’m saving them for my four part manifesto. But for now, the Trebuchet is the Death Grips of weapons. You should use this if: You get it. You want a big tiddy goth gf Overall Score: A Light 7/10
Your Fav is Problematic: Robin Hood Killed my Sugar Daddy Wow. I never thought this would happen to me, but here I am, exposing one of the great heroes of our time for what he really is: a dastardly villain. Yes, times are tough. You think I don’t know that? I know that better than anyone. All seven of my children starved to death last winter. John, John, John, John, John, John, and John Jr. We weren’t out of food, or whatever, but I’d snuck off to my bf ’s house for a weekend which became a week which became the whole winter. Forgot all about the Johns. My bad. So, farewell to my seven sons. Luckily, visiting is super convenient because I chiseled only one headstone for “John”
by Lizzie Frank
and popped them all under it. But then, Robin Hood attacked me, personally. And by personally I mean … He killed my sugar daddy. My poor dead sugar daddy wasn’t even doing anything wrong, either. He was simply transporting all of the money he earned by selling scavenged souvenirs from the Holy Land! My sugar daddy was struck by Cupid’s arrow, the night we met several months ago. Then, he was struck by Robin’s arrow, right through the heart! And the worst part of the murder: My. Hood redistributed all his wealth to the poor. The Sheriff of Nottingham is doing nothing in the face of the criminal.
Therefore, I’m taking this public. Cancel Robin Hood. I’m putting an end to the glorification of Robin Hood. I would like to formally announce that I am starting a rival vigilante. I will steal from the poor and give to the rich (me, ever since that will & testament I forged for my sugar daddy worked way better than I expected). You only have yourself to thank, Mr. Hood. Worst tidings, Rich Bitch 3000
In Love With a Dragon By Eli Grasso
Hey, quick question for everyone in this village that’s still alive. I know that horrible beast that is flying around our village and this entire county as a whole has literally been vaporizing everything in it’s path but like...it’s definitely kind of sexy right? I really don’t mean to disrespect all of the people who have been charred to a crisp by this dragon but maybe once it calms down I could try and... give it a kiss? I mean, look at it! It has that look in its eyes that says, “I’m about to destroy everything you have ever known in a single second”, but let’s be real. I think that’s kind of sexy of it. I know this village as a whole will definitely never recover from these damages but maybe we can convince the dragon to let us love it. There is no way I am the only one who finds this dragon’s ruby green scales attractive! Someone else has to love it’s horribly terrifying mouth of fangs. It’s just... I don’t know....really what I’m into right now. The image of the beast swooping down from the sky and eating Thomas, our beloved potato farmer in one bite might still be fresh in your head, but just try and forget about that! Here’s an idea for you, maybe Thomas’s death is totally his own fault! Maybe if Thomas had said to the dragon “Hey miss, I think those massive red eyes of yours are quite beautiful! Can I be a gentleman and take you out on a date?” Have any of you even stopped to ask this dreamy dragon babe its name? At this point I don’t care if I’m banished from the village for saying it, but fuck all Ye Olde Retirement Home, I’m glad the dragon burned it down. Forty years is way too long to be alive and their time has long been up. That’s why that lusty dragon in the sky burned them and all of their belongings to a smoldering and unrecognizable ash. More importantly, that’s why I’m going to kiss that dragon right on the mouth. That beautiful dragon knows what’s up and I will soon be her endlessly loving partner. It’s a shame you are all too ignorant and thick skulled to see true love like this. I hope one day you can all have a wonderful dragon romance like me but until then, you can find me at my new address, the cave at the top of Blood Mountain, since that’s where my dragon wifey lives.
Whatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s in My Bag? Hobbit Edition potato (self-explanatory)
mcguffin
special lint
mcmuffin
map that only shows highway roadstops and chuck e cheeses
stick for other purpose walking stick