Nonsense Hates You (not really)

ISSUE #178

SUMMER 2019

Nonsense u o Y s e t a H YOU CAN TAG ALONG

I GUESS...

exclusives for Hofstra students

clothes change. the hanger stays the same.

Thursdays 9:23 P.M. Breslin 217 first meeting 9/12

E-Board Contents Editor-In-Chief - Lizzie Frank

Managing Editor - Brynne Levine Assistant Editors - Millie Hart/Brandon Anderson Head Writer - William Faber Art Director - Sam Riebs Design Director - Mark Melchin

1 - Cover - Millie Hart 2 - Ads - Sam Riebs

3 - This page, the one you are reading 3 - No Standards, No Problem - Brandon Anderson 4 - Mailbag - Staff 5 - Editorial - Brynne Levine + Lizzie Frank

Social Media Manager - Robert Kinnaird

6 - Top 5 James Bond Movies - Robert Kinnaird

Treasurer - Lilly Tennyson

7- Down With the Clown - Brandon Anderson

Web Team - Lizzie Frank/Sam Riebs Video Heads - Emmet Goebel/Nathan Elliott

8 - BIG ART - Millie Hart 10 - Alvin Must Die - Mattie Brown

Faculty Advisor - Amy Karofsky

11 - Painful Podcasts - William Faber

Moral Support - Rosario Navalta

11 - You Don’t Get to Read This - Robert Kinnaird 12 - Hell President - Brandon Anderson

sorry there’s no nicknames

13 - Horrible Horoscopes - Lizzie Frank 14 - Class of 2019 Obituaries - Staff 16 - Back Cover - Mark Melchin

Disclaimer: Nonsense Humor Magazine does not reflect The Views of Hofstra University and doesn’t really hate you, we would love it if you joined.

Please join please join please join please join. any likenesses to people, places, things, demons, cartoon characters, etc. are coincidental uwu

By Brandon Anderson

Staff Writers William Faber Lizzie Frank Robert Kinnaird Brandon Anderson Mattie Brown

Staff Artists Sam Riebs Millie Hart Mark Melchin Brynne Levine

Contributors Peter Amadi

Elliot Colloton

Lizzie Frank

Mailbag Are we all the villain of someone else’s story? Am I the villain of your story?

Yes. I watched you run over my sister.

Why doesn’t this funeral home have an all-you-can-eat buffet?

Buddy, it’s right at the front.

What’s black and white and red?

Can a woodchuck chuck Chuck Norris?

I enter YOUR mom :)

Only as far as he trusts him.

Hi guys, long time reader first time caller. My house is set to be foreclosed and I need some advice ASAP. Can you help me out?

I’ve got two big thighs and plenty of lies. Who here’s ready to get DOWN?

Hahahaha noooooo don’t get your house foreclosed you’re so sexy haha

I brought a shovel to dig the hole… will this be useful or should I drive to a liquor store?

I booked my first fight but just found out that my opponent is literally an amalgamation of arms and feet surgically attached to a merciless giant squid, what do I do?

I’ve been reading to my succulent for the past month because I heard it helps them grow and just today it told me the way I pronounce ‘catastrophe’ is stupid. Should I get a new succulent or take adult reading lessons?

WHERE THE HELL (gun emoji) IS MY WIFE (sun emoji) (up emoji) (wife emoji) (at the neighbors’ house emoji) Is there a cure for whatever it is I have?

A kiss on the lips. Skin to skin, no chapstick.

Rainbows?

More like PAINbows haha ‘cause it hurts to look at them given the fact that I am a homophobe.

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You find yourself at the end of a hallway made of stone. In front of you are three doors. Above the first, a torch. Above the second, a mystical singing fish. Above the third, your mom. Which do you enter?

Aim for the taint. It’s in there somewhere.

Hey, maybe u can be friends(: what a beautiful story to behold!

My meat! My feat! My tiny little teets! (respectively)

Well... how do you pronounce catastrophe?

E

Editorial

Dear Wretched One, Congratulations, Adventurer! You defeated our best efforts and have gotten your hands on this silly little magazine. Your valor must be great to have gotten past the sphinx, our snake pit, and even the little cage where we keep Stu Rabz. You even bested the gate where one guy always lies and the other always tells the truth (otherwise known as Ariel and Ashley).

Yes, the rumors are true. The Great Ones have passed on, and now you’re left with the meatheads who didn’t graduate. We’re a jocks only club now, so we will be making some major changes around here. First of all, the first person to hit Lizzie with a football by the end of Fall semester wins $100. Good luck with your search. Second of all, all elected positions will be determined by a series of physical challenges (included but not limited to: marathon running [15 pts], holding your breath in a pool of warm-ish soup that still has frozen chunks [6.9 pts], and doing the one punch man workout [4.20 pts]).

What we’re trying to say is, Welcome to this New Era of Nonsense. Good-bye to an absolute legendary set of corpses: Ashley, Ariel, Jordan, Tori, Beth, Ronnie, Helen, Taylor, Ben, Peter, Sam, Dan, and Noah (more on that at the end of the magazine). So long, suckers. You will be missed very very very much. In positive news: this may be our very first 100% homo e-board, excluding our video team (School of Comm is notoriously heterosexual).

Yes, Nonsense is annoying. But there’s only one way to make it less annoying: join! And dilute our annoyingness. Unless you are also annoying, in which case join anyway! With great annoyingness comes great responsibility to repurpose that energy for the powers of good (comedy). Yeah, we know about Spider-Man. We are contemporary on the issues. We are fingering the pulse.

Have fun with your little humor magazine, twerp. I hope you get your “laughs” or whatever. I hope you get your “sweet taste of momentary release from the purgatory-like suffering of existing at Hofstra,” or however the saying goes. What I’m saying is, enjoying this monster-booklet while you can, reader. We have cursed these here pages. A humor writer (and artist too) has spit on every single page and recited an incantation. Now, every time you eat cool ranch Doritos, you will taste pretzels. Regular Doritos will still taste the same. Enjoy living with those taste buds. You can barely call yourself a part of the human race.

Scum of the Earth. Just read the god damn magazine.

Kisses, Brynne and Lizzie

Top 5 James Bond Movies

(based on how much they remind me of my sex life)

By Robert Kinnaird 5: Casino Royale on Putlocker

As a cock and ball torture enthusiast, Casino Royale represents me flawlessly. It features a cockwhipping scene that seems to be directly inspired by the Home Depot security tape of my sexy run-in with a former lover. The Putlocker quality really speaks to my sex life as well. Lower quality, breaks for buffering, and less than adequate audio really sum up that hashtag CBT life. Definitely reminds me of my sex life, but not exactly in a ‘greatest hits’ kind of way.

-I give it a 1 out of 2 balls, just like my partially neutered cat, Dr. Skittles.

4: Casino Royale on DVD

The jump in quality from Putlocker to DVD is huge, but DVD just doesn’t have the same visual quality of the later movies in our list. The improved audio is great, but the scene still misses some of the mise-en-scène that arises from real life cock and ball torture. Where is the clumsy intimacy? The awkward giggles from doing something you know is wrong?

The Home Depot employee entering to announce, “Your paint samples are ready,” and getting a hit or two in just for fun? It’s all gone.

-I rate it a 3 out of 5 outdated media formats, with an extra mark off for the fact that I no longer own a DVD player.

3: Skyfall

Not many people know this about me, but my first wet dream was about Dame Judy Dench, so Skyfall really takes me back. Also, I was engaged in a fierce, taint-centric self-flagellation sesh in the attic whilst my family home was going up in flames, so when the same thing happens to Bond (basically), it’s enough emotional ball breakage to count as CBT. -7 out of 10 Javier Bardems, because he’s sexy.

2: Casino Royale on an overseas airplane trip

It’s a classic ‘chicken-or-the-egg’ dilemma. Which came first: the sexual frustration I experienced on a transatlantic voyage, or watching Casino Royale for the first time? Trick question, they happened at the same time. Maybe it’s just my nostalgia speaking, but James Bond movies are really at their peak on a seat back television. One minute you’re saying “What’s this? A new Bond movie?” and the next minute you’re absolutely hammering your nuts with the seat of an airplane toilet. I personally took three overseas flights just to experience this again and again before Delta finally removed Casino Royale from their rental list. I downloaded it on my jailbroken iPod touch, but there’s just no reclaiming a good thing when it’s gone.

-4.3 out of 5 Boeing 787s

1: The Daniel Craig Collection: Casino Royale on Blu-Ray

Clearly the only way to experience Bond’s best ball breaking balliteration is in mind blowing 4k with perfectly balanced surround sound. A great movie to watch with potential sexual partners to get a read on their willingness to step on your dick, and truly a film that made millions stop and say, “Why am I into this?”

The rest of the movie is pretty good, too.

-5 out of 5s star-shaped bruises on my own ass. And yes, I did hook up with a guy I found on Craigslist who was only looking to do some James Bond themed cosplay. Everyone else just thought it was weird when I got a boner during that scene.

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Am I The Only One Who Doesn’t Want To Get Down With The Clown?

By Brandon Anderson

I don’t know if I’m feeling this new homicidal clown fad. I love violence and mayhem, but adding the clown element on top of it all just feels like putting hot sauce on a baseball bat. The bat is painful enough already! I get the face paint, and I get the beating people to death with frozen fish.

It’s funny, silly, “a fresh new twist” on delinquent activity, but I’m not feeling it.

A friend invited me to go on a ‘birthday bash’ (it’s where you crash a child’s birthday party and bash their parent’s faces in with a comically oversized rubber mallet). The cake was good, but I hated that we’d committed to this new clown aesthetic. Seriously, a rubber mallet? When did my rusty ball-peen hammer go out of style?

See, I like my criminal activity clean cut and to the point.

I feel like the ridiculous costumes and makeup only add an unnecessary layer that’s taking away from what’s really important: causing harm to innocent people. I love traumatizing children and I love stealing from the better-than-welloff. I ESPECIALLY love doing both at once by breaking a hedge fund manager’s fingers one by one in front of his entire family. If you ask me, there’s no room in this equation for a big red nose.

I brought it up with my

friends and they just don’t agree.

They say that the clown in our modern culture is a symbol of anarchy and fear and that adding this aspect actually deprives people of further joy by making them afraid of real clowns. They said that it just has to grow on you, but I’ve been doing this for a while now and I haven’t come around to it. Hearing children scream in terror while I smash everything that brings them joy is fun enough! I don’t need to be some Pennywise Ronald McDonald look-alike to do it. In the time it takes to put on the blood red wig and face paint, I could have already ruined fifteen people’s lives!

I actually went on a shotgun-and-Molotov cocktail spree with my friend and his insane clown posse later. We sang Mary Had A Little Lamb: the Fuck You remix as we torched orphanages. But even after going through almost a pound of face paint and six bottles of lighter fluid, I’m not getting any extra thrill from the excess effort it takes. No one comments on it or cries anymore than they already would, and the fear on their faces is exactly the same as when I’m not wearing the red nose.

Maybe you can add something over it to spice things up a little, like an outfit that makes you

look like an Eldritch God or Ellen.

Honestly though, I don’t need anything other than a baseball bat to wait in the street to break someone’s legs. For me, this clown thing is just the new vaping, a recolor of something timeless trying to pass itself off as something shiny and revolutionary.

I actually went out by myself one night, just to break some car windows and beat up old people, and I think it was when his dentures flew out of his mouth and onto the sidewalk that I realized that I’m right, at least for myself. Ultraviolence is something that’s an art unto itself; it should be loud and brazen, no gimmicks or masks about it.

Would Da Vinci have painted the Mona Lisa with crazy decorations? No, because the beauty lies in the raw simplicity, to do so would outshine the truth of the work! For now, I mostly fly solo, “Live and let live, as long as it’s hurting someone,” that’s what I say. Maybe someday there’ll be a happy medium, but right now, I just can’t get down with the clown.

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Stop the Spread of Sin: Put Down Alvin the Chipmunk

By Mattie Brown Dear Nickelodeon™, I am writing this letter on behalf of every mother who turns to your channel for quality edutainment for their little ones. My sons’ favorite show is the latest incarnation of Alvin and the Chipmunks. He just LOVES them and their fun, upbeat music. There is, however, one tiny, little tweak that I feel could improve your show and give me peace of mind as a mother: you need to put Alvin down like the rabid beast he is.

You see, despite my son’s’ love for the chipmunks, I am concerned about the morality of the shows my children watch. I didn’t even want to buy a TV in the first place, but when Joshua and Isaac described it as ‘a conduit for the Word of God,’ I knew I had to. However, I will not let my pipeline to the Almighty be corrupted by some devilish chipmunk, and I am willing to take time away from my fulfilling career as a Level Seven Serva-lite Executive in order to build my case.

Obviously, I know my solution sounds harsh, but that is only because I feel strongly about both eradicating that vicious hellion, and protecting my two sweet, little numpkins from his influence. I believe once I am finished with this letter, you will agree with me that the only way to preserve the purity and goodness of our children is to send Alvin himself back to the fiery pits of hell from whence he came.

The simple fact of the matter is that Alvin is a narcissist who is incapable of kindness, empathy, or love. His inability to care about anyone other than himself has destroyed his entire family. I won’t let that happen to my sweet, good, innocent, perfect boys!

For God’s sake, just look at poor Dave: the man is a husk of his former self. He has been worn down by Alvin’s antics to the point that he can only scream into the abyss to cope with his cursed life. Does Alvin care? Of course not.

Alvin gets off on the pain and misery he causes those around him. Oh sure, he’ll say he’s learned his lesson, but only when his evil gambits are foiled and the others see him for what he truly is: a servant of evil.

But his behavior never changes. He’s always thinking of new ways to play everyone around him. Whether it’s through lies, manipulation, or twisted schemes, Alvin always has to get his way, always has to be the big man getting all of the attention. Who cares if he has to step all over his brothers? How many times has he taken advantage of Theodore’s kindness and naivety? How many times has he stolen and or destroyed one of the creations that Simon worked so GODDAMN hard on? All just to satisfy his fleeting whims and bottomless ego.

Simon and Theodore work so hard while that lazy skidmark on music history takes all the credit. They have just as much talent, yet they spend all their time cleaning up that emotional vulture’s messes. Simon always has to bail the Deplorable out of situations that he created. Does Simon ever get any real gratitude? No! Only more ridicule.

There is no justice as long as this... this... THING, this blight on everyone’s lives is allowed to breathe. This creature feeds on misery and despair, and it grows stronger the more it corrupts. Alvin Sevile is the darkness that pervades humanity. The darkness that lies in all of our hearts. Every bad thought, every destructive impulse, every depraved desire can all be found in the black hole that lurks where the creature’s soul should be. Alvin Sevile is a whisper in the night. A symbol of chaos, greed, and cruelty. It cannot be reasoned with. It cannot be contained.

ALVIN MUST D I E before it’s too late…

Toodles!

-Mama Mary

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The Portabello Network’s PAINFUL PODCASTS

By William Faber Surgeon General’s Warning

These podcasts WILL hurt you Whether you’re a long time Port-head

or someone just looking for new sounds to put in your ears, we’ve got a comprehensive list of every major podcast ever produced by our network, from one-offs to long running beloved series.

1. The Silent Film Review - Lance and Steven review films in silence. This podcast is perfect for meditations on film and sound, but the highlight of the first episode is definitely when Steven accidentally smacks the microphone while trying to explain the mise-en-scène of ‘The Bangville Police’ (1913).

2. Testicular Ad-vise - Lyle One and Lyle Two give in-depth advice on ball vises.

Our favorite moment is in episode 18 when they realize the garage they were recording in had opened up and thirty

schoolchildren were outside listening intently to their every word.

3. Force of Nature - Frank and Brank record this podcast while camping in bear infested woods. They spend most of their time trying to convince the other to go outside to poop instead of doing it in the tent.

4. Commander Crawford’s Consultations: Commander Crawford recently passed so his grand-nephew Maurice has taken up the mantle of giving blunt military-themed advice to struggling couples, but most of his suggestions involve going out for ice cream and holding hands more often. He breaks down into grief-fueled tears at least twice a recording.

5. Bologna Bracket: Single mother Harriet gives each of her two boys a different brand of bologna and makes them chew directly into the microphone. Whichever brand sounds more like dubstep wins.

There are 1,200 episodes.

6. BK’s BMs - Milktoast and Kimberly Granite stake out in a Burger King bathroom to try to find out what really goes down when royalty has to take a potty break. Nothing compares to the moment when Milktoast realizes that most people are just taking a shit.

7. Excel-lent Enlightenment: Dale teaches you how to use Microsoft Excel by narrating every click, drag, and keyboard shortcut. The first episode is three hours long, and Dale dies of a heart attack at the end. Vulture called it, “The ultimate introduction to Microsoft Excel and the fragility of human life.”

8. The Gullible Golden Gully: Mr. Glass tries to convince passersby to go down into the nearby gully in search of gold.

They never return. Mr. Glass has killed eleven people this way.

9. Pet Dates! - Quimence and Dry Water set up pets on a date then secretly record it to make sure they’re practicing abstinence! They never are.

Fuck you, you don’t get to read this.

What thethe fuckfuck diddid youyou justjust fucking saysay about me,me, youyou little bitch?

I'll have youyou know I graduated What fucking about little bitch?

I'll have know graduated What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch?

I'll have you know I Igraduated toptop of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, andand I I of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills.

I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US haveover over300 300confirmed confirmedkills. kills.I Iam amtrained trainediningorilla gorillawarfare warfareand andI'm I'mthe thetop topsniper sniperininthe theentire entireUS US have armed forces.

YouYou are are nothing to me butbut justjust another target.

I will wipe youyou thethe fuckfuck outout with precision armed forces. nothing me another target. will wipe with precision armed forces.

You are nothing totome but just another target.

I Iwill wipe you the fuck out with precision thethe likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words.

You think youyou cancan likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words.

You think the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet?

Think again, fucker. awaywith withsaying sayingthat thatshit shittotome meover overthe theInternet?

Internet?Think Thinkagain, again,fucker. fucker. get away As we speak I am contacting mymy secret network of spies across thethe USA andand your IP isIPbeing Aswe we speak am contacting secret network spies across USA your being As speak I Iam contacting my secret network ofofspies across the USA and your IP isisbeing traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot.

The storm that wipes outout thethe pathetic traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot.

The storm that wipes pathetic traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life.

You're fucking dead, kid.

I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can killkill youyou in in little thing you call your life.

You're fucking dead, kid.

I can be anywhere, anytime, and can little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I Ican kill you in overover seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands.

Not only am I extensively trained in sevenhundred hundredways, ways,and andthat's that'sjust justwith withmy mybare barehands. hands.Not Notonly onlyam amI Iextensively extensivelytrained trainedinin over seven unarmed combat, butbut I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps andand I willwill useuse unarmed combat, have access the entire arsenal the United States Marine Corps unarmed combat, but I Ihave access totothe entire arsenal ofofthe United States Marine Corps and I Iwill use it toitits full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit.

If only you fullextent extenttotowipe wipeyour yourmiserable miserableass assoff offthe theface faceofofthe thecontinent, continent,you youlittle littleshit. shit.IfIfonly onlyyou you it totoitsitsfull could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment waswas about to bring down upon could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment about bring down upon could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about totobring down upon you,you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue.

But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're maybe you would have held your fucking tongue.

But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying thethe price, youyou goddamn idiot.

I will shitshit furyfury all over youyou andand youyou willwill drown in it.

You're fucking paying price, goddamn idiot. will over drown You're fucking paying the price, you goddamn idiot.

I Iwill shit fury allallover you and you will drown ininit.it.You're fucking dead, kiddo. dead, kiddo. dead, kiddo.

Now get the fuck out of here, this article wasn’t meant for you.

By Robert Kinnaird

A Bold New Vision for Hell

by Brandon Anderson I’m Jeff Geoffrey Johnson, and me and my running mate, John Gregory Jefferson, are hard at work making sure your tax dollars don’t come back to you! I may seem like some backwards country demon who doesn’t know a bone peeler from a nail cracker… and I am! I came from a little, no-name fire pit in the third ring, so, if there’s one thing I know, it’s how to make things WORSE, damn it! Pun intended!

My opponent is an unholy hellspawn born from hatred and fear. Seems like a perfect choice right? Wrong!

Kohn Jeff Fennedy wants to make hell a BETTER place! That means less suffering for everyone AND less jobs for demons! Now as new president of Hell, I plan to instate the following: 1. Every day will henceforth be ‘Spiders Day’ and it will rain spiders from the sky. There will also be a ‘Second Spiders Day’ on which it will rain twice as many spiders, so that the spiders are even more spider-y.

2. I will execute Tom Holland. I thought the irony would be funny, seeing as this would mean no more

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Spider-Man movies, at least until they re-cast the starring role with some schmuck like Macaulay Culkin.

3. It will be illegal to say “personally” and “ironic” because personally I thought it would be ironic.

4. All fruits will be turned into meat, and all meat will be turned into White Castle.

5. All toilet paper will be replaced with sandpaper, so... good luck with that shit, literally.

6. A serial killer nightmare clown under every bed!

7. Those little flaps on the paper cups? They’ll only LOOK like they can close. Fiendish, I know.

8. Every twenty minutes a guy with no skin will jump out and scream!

He can be in more than one place at once, so don’t worry, he WILL get to you!

9. A draft will be held every 13 years to decide who has all of the skin peeled from their body and jumps

out to scream at people.

10. The number 11 is banned. In its place, everyone must stub their toe and go “ARRGGWAHAAA!”. *stubs toe* ARRGGWAHAAA!. Student loans are doubled.

12. Singing is illegal. So is chocolate, hot wings, and the letter “a”.

13. *t twelve o’clock everyd*y, *ll citizens must line up to h*ve their pubic h*irs ripped out through their *sses.

I’m not doing this for the people of this dimension, or for my f*mily or *nything… I just thought it’d be funny to fuck with y’*ll. Furthermore, I would like to *ssure everyone here, that I h*ve spent billions and billions of their t*x doll*rs on this *dvertisement, so vote JGJ and I will m*ke sure th*t your time here is long *nd insuffer*ble.

Jeff Geoffrey Johnson: “If it’s not *n eternity, it will FEEL like one! It is still *n eternity though.”

Horrible Horoscopes

By Lizzie Frank

Aries You are on Cloud 9 recently, Aries. Your skin is clearing up, your laboratory experiments are more fruitful than ever, and your adult teeth are finally starting to come in! Mind your footing and be careful you don’t slip down to Cloud 8. Bad things are happening on Cloud 8. Unspeakable things.

Taurus Remember that a television is bad for your eyesight, especially when that ticked off Best Buy employee lobs one at your skull.

Gemini Beware of a hooded man with a shovel on the evening of the 24th. Think twice before digging two holes. Think once before digging one hole.

Cancer Carl, your Uber driver, says you’re going to be late for your ride on Tuesday. Don’t worry about it though; he’ll wait up.

Leo Virgo Season is the time you find the Bonnie to your Clyde.

This is also the season you commit a rash of bank robberies and die in a shoot-out.

Guess you’ll just have to take the good with the bad.

Virgo Swallow a live jellyfish. Poop a dead jellyfish. Wonder what went down on the inside.

Libra Quit your job at Applebee’s. Eat an apple. Eat a bee. Kiss a horse on the lips.

Sagittarius Do NOT make that taco salad recipe you’ve had bookmarked.

Seriously, don’t. Don’t even turn on your oven for the next 6 weeks. Stay away from the grocery store. If you already bought the ingredients dispose of them thoroughly. I’m not joking: this is bigger than you.

Scorpio One Direction is getting back together. The Jonas Brothers are breaking up. The world is in chaos.

Capricorn If you wear gloves when you drive, spit twice on an unshucked corn cob. If you are a Capricorn passenger in the car while another Capricorn is driving with gloves on, you have to eat the raw corn cob.

Shucks and all.

Aquarius Cancel all upcoming flights, especially your own.

Pisces You are going to shit your pants sometime in the next month. I don’t know any more. Wear an adult diaper 24/7 to be on the safe side** **Note for Pisces NOT to read: They are not actually going to shit their pants. I ran out of time to do a ritual psychic reading for Pisces and thought it would be funny to make the adult diaper business skyrocket out of nowhere. The rest of these are 100% accurate.

Obituaries Column

Ashley

It is with an unbearably heavy heart that Nonsense Humor says good-bye to Fearless Leader, Ashley Vernola. Ash’s reign as EIC achieved much: never had the jokes been hotter, the schedule tighter, nor the Editorial longer. Ashley is now up in Nonsense heaven (regular hell), making jello shots and running Hollywood. Farwell, purple Mario. We’ll miss your presence, your laugh, your vent-ready ears, and your massive meat. I’m talking horrifically large. But while your meat inspired fear, your mind inspired funny, and for that, we thank you.

Ariel

Perhaps the realest eel to ever leal, we just might miss you, Sheriff Ariel Leal. You were our first-ever managing editor and also our first (and probably last) actually funny contributor. There was never an unlaughing moment when you were in the room, good sir. We will always come back to 14

learn from the Man Who Build. We will miss your charm and wit, but we will not miss how you are probably illiterate. You are now in a better place, with the grim reaper of turtles, and we send you mad respect. We will always remember, your name Jeff.

See you at home probably since you still live in Big Gay.

Tori

Blimey! This bloke wuz a real one. Torrance might huv left us a year early, but they live on forevah in our hearts. As we say gay goodbye to Torvald, we depart also with their out-of-this-world creative mind, tripped out unique art style, and legendary salad recipe with all the crispy stuff in it. Torchic may be gone, but they continue to haunt the hallowed halls of the Calkins basement for eternity. Tortino, you sexy vamp, are certain to go on to make many transformative pieces of art and possibly win America’s Next Top Model. It is with a heavy heart

that we say, Big cheez-its.

8, for like a dollar fifty or something.

Jordan

Where to begin on the illustrious life of the late Jordan Hopkins… Jordan has shaped Nonsense Humor into the shitstorm we all know and hate today.

While his articles were funny as hell, his feedback was like a chef kissing another chef atop the Eiffel Tower (perfection). In his next life, may Jordan Hopins experience nothing but happiness and a comprehensive Universal Basic Income.

Beth

The spirit formerly known as Beth Foster has passed over to the other side (graduation). Beth was a homie to be counted on. Need to see Beth in a sexy outfit? She’s got you covered. Need to see Beth in a sexy outfit again? She still has you covered. Not many friends can wear two different sexy outfits.

Beth, my goth gf, your art and writing alike were

disturbingly funny and I am convinced that you practiced ritual satanism nightly to get that good.

Or maybe you’re just talented and a hard worker.

Either way, miss you xoxo.

Please come home soon.

We need your sexy outfits, jello shots, and mysterious smirk that I am still trying to translate.

Ronnie

Ronnie, aka SPEEF, aka Johnny Film, aka Supernaturalfan_420 has departed. A beloved member of the Nonsense community (aka an abhorred member of the Hofstra community), RonJon was famous for writing that one thing for a magazine that is funny, but ONLY sometimes. Ronnie was a positive influence on the magazine and those around her, providing them an outlet to express themselves and vent with semi-regular open mics.

Her famous last words oft bellow through my non-Hasbro issued Ouija board: “I’m Speef, goodnight.”

Helen Helen, we tried to let your boif write this obit but it was too goddamn sweet.

Helen, you are Russian, and some crimes can never be forgiven, but they can be ignored, at the peril of this entire magazine.

Your potently evil energy has been woven into the very fabric of Nonsense Humor Magazine. In the triumphant words of Mark Melchin, привет елена я люблю тебя. We don’t know what the fuck that means (we’re not commies), but we are 90% sure it is a curse.. You deserve it. Sleep well, and go gently into that great goodnight, demon.

Taylor

The School of Communication will never be the same without the distant noises of her stress echoing through its halls. That stress did bring Mike Birbiglia to campus, and, goddammit, we still don’t know how she did it. This reluctant leader of a bunch of white male standup comedians has finally achieved her dream of moving off-campus, but at what cost? (Estimated Cost: untold amounts of debt)

Ben

This glistening scalp of a man never shied away from his civic duty, assuming that his duty was

to remind us all that the Pillsbury Dough Boy was a ‘vile racist’ and kick everyone’s ass in basketball. He’s drumming to his own beat now, but he’s not doing it here due to rampant noise complaints.

Peter

The Souce is officially loose. The only man brave enough to be in both a college humor magazine and an a capella group has written his last article, sung his last song, and shown his comically handsome face for the last time. Soucy held the role of Treasurer longer than anyone else, undoubtedly taking bribes and committing national treason.

He will be missed. His epic drawing of ‘Rat Tits’ will not. Someday we will finally put him in jail, but for now, Peter Soucy is still very much at large.

Sam Thor

RIP to one of Nonsense’s most talented (and most elusive) writers. If your career in tv doesn’t work, there’s always your handmade jewelry line to fall back on! (Actually, that was a joke. Sam Thor doesn’t have a handmade jewelry line. He’s just the kind of guy that I think it would be funny if he did).

Dan

This techno-deity lives on in zines, fun clothing, and anytime someone utters

the words “nuclear, neon wasteland of 2030.” Dan’s art thrives in our hearts (and, more importantly, the professional, for-profit world). Dan leaves behind a room at the So Be It Union, a sink of unwashed dishes, and the whisper of the effortlessly bizarre.

Noah

Noah, you went out the way we have all dreamed about from the beginning: dropping the fuck out of Hofstra. Thank you for choosing to contribute funny instead of choosing to contribute often. Dude, friend me on DragonFable so I can add you to my questing party.

MILF Island Rest in peace, MILF Island. Who among us didn’t go to a MILF party, walk in the door, shuffle down to the basement, shuffle back into the living room, smoke weed in Samuel’s bedroom, shit in the upstairs bathroom and then spend upwards of 90 minutes waiting for the night shuttle.

The Old Nonsense Office

Nonsense Loses Office Privileges, Now Stuck with the Chronicle and Another Club Oh god, oh fuck, I can’t believe it’s happening again. Old Office, they have taken you away from us, and this time it wasn’t

even in violation of probation! Perhaps more lovingly referred to as Mark Melchin’s locker, you will be sincerely missed! And a message to whoever gets our old office: I personally hacked a loogie on every single surface. Door handle? Loogied. Computer keyboard? Loogied. White board? Extra loogied.

Hostfra Englihs Socititty

RIP in advance to HES. Enjoy sharing an office with us, bastards. I loogied into every issue of Font. Also you are bottom of the totem pole now, b!tchez. Nonsense is rising the ranks! Nonsense is infiltrating SGA… You’ll never see us coming.

CHRON

Yeah, whatever, you guys can stay. Take the swastikas off the corkboard, though.

Yeah, both Editors are Jewish now. Take that, SGA. Take that also, old anti-semitic issues of Nonsense. You done played yourself. Jews have survived multiple genocides just for Lizzie and Brynne to be able to be editors of a historically anti-semitic publication.

STU

You will NOT be missed.

Fuck outta here. Sbarros has permanently altered every single drunk person at Hofstra’s stomach acidity for good.

Freshens. Bugs. Need I say more. No.

OH YEAH? WELL I HATE YOU TOO!