Vol. 29 no. 3 • October 18th, 2013
The True Meaning of Halloween Issue
2 the plumber’s FAUCET the plumber’s Masthead Frankenstein Daniel Dicaire Young Frankenstein David Bailey Layout Lich Faraz Oman Content Crypt Creepers Amanda dos Santos David Bailey Daniel Dicaire Graham Pinchin Daniel Galef Adam Pickersgill Hadi Sayer Igors of Images Alex Foty David Baily Disclaimer The Plumber’s Faucet is a Publication of the Engineering Undergraduate Society of McGill University. The opinions expressed in the Faucet are not necessarily those of the EUS nor of any other university body, unless such opinion appears over an authorized signature of a representative of the said body. The Faucet does not print works which are sexist, libelous, racist, homophobic, or violating the copyright laws of Canada. It should be noted that some content is meant to be satirical or humourous in nature. For general inquiries, contact faucet@mcgilleus.ca. Complaints The EUS takes complaints very seriously. All complaints should begin with the heading “Official Protest to Content in The Plumber’s Faucet”, and should be sent to vpcomm@mcgilleus.ca, publications.director@mcgilleus.ca, and faucet@ mcgilleus.ca. the plumber’s FAUCET vol. 29 no. 3 Friday October 18th, 2013 ISSN (print): 1707-7478 ISSN (online): 2291-3513
Letter from the Editors Well, here we are again, in the middle of midterm season. It’s that jolly time from September 20thNovember 26th that is a time of trials, tears, and triumph. But mostly tears. Don’t take it too hard though - in a hundred years no one will care how you did. Unless you got question 3 wrong. How could you screw that one up? No curve is going to redeem you from that. Campus life is rolling along as usual. SSMU Club continues to be irrelevant, and McGill keeps putting out updates with its “Whatsnewstudents” weekly dual newsletters in English and French, so that you can ignore them in both official languages. On a more somber note, Zac Moreland, who was EUS President, resigned last month for personal reasons. Fortunately he’s still kicking around, but it’s sad to lose an exec. There will Selcoms soon for the new President, and the EUS is still fully operational. In other news, Halloween is just around the corner. Or a couple pages away, a few clicks away, a couple rows down, or 8 rolls of toilet paper to go, depending on your calendar system. For children, Halloween is about candy. For university students, it is about eye-candy. Also beer, parties, making impressive costumes, sex, and regular candy. It’s a big thing, so you’ve got to prepare. Luckily, the Faucet has you covered. This issue we are giving you costume ideas, drink ideas, and getting you spooked with a chilling tale of a descent into the tunnels below McGill. There’s also a Mad Lib, which totally isn’t rigged towards a shocking ending, and totally wasn’t based off of something stupid that was aired on TLC once. Remember that we are always looking for new contributors! If you can write, draw, or spell your name, we want you! Of course, this is midterm season, so maybe I’m just fishing in a fountain right now. But send an email to faucet@mcgilleus.ca if we got lucky! Happy midterming,
-DD & DB
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by Woody So I see you’ve picked up a copy of the Faucet. Good choice. Whether by accident or on purpose, the fact that you’re reading this article indicates that you are at least as intelligent as an artsy PhD student. But is your sense of humour up to snuff? Wait, who are you? Who am I? I am Woody, the creator of The Plumber’s Station. What is that you ask? It’s the EUS’ new Video Channel and you, the person standing there reading the Faucet in what is most likely a public area, are invited to participate in the creation and distribution of our content. A Video Channel? That’s right; do I have to repeat myself? Come on. Wait, what kind of content are we talking about here? Oh come on, get your head out of the gutter. Basically, our content will be split into two categories: work and play, kind of like your life as an engineering student. The work will include an engineering podcast, interviews with notable representatives of companies and so on and so forth. The play will involve engineering events, parties and mini-series that will leave you laughing until you crap your…
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Check out the YouTube Channel Okay, I get it. So what can I do?
What about that other thing you mentioned?
Well right now we’re looking for people to work with us to bring play to the big (read “computer”) screen. That can mean one of two things: producing or acting in a mini-series of your choice or going to engineering events and parties for free to film.
Mini-series? We have a bunch of series lined-up and waiting for talent (read “not for artsies”) such as yourself to show us your acting chops. As a preview, the current line-up includes: “Trust Me I’m an Engineer”, “Dorm Cook”, “The Rant”, and “The Return of Trottier Man”. I can personally guarantee that only 15% of it will be dick jokes. If you already have a show idea, you can create your own and we’ll air it if it’s awesome (read “funny as hell”).
Wait, you’re paying for me to go party? Well, yes and no. We’re paying for your ticket so you essentially get to party for free on one condition; you bring one of the Station’s camcorders with you. That footage gets broadcasted in our weekly recap and, if the footage is exceptional, you get to go to bigger and bigger events. You were going to go anyway, so why not go for free? And by events you mean… Plumber’s Ball, E-Week, Blues Pubs, various Banquets - you name it. If you’re not interested in that kind of stuff (dude…), you can also go to competitions and film McGill Engineering students competing and winning.
Awesome! How do I signup? You can sign-up by emailing your name and cellphone number to the Executive Director or the Director of Personnel at station@ mcgilleus.ca. You can also subscribe to our YouTube channel, ThePlumbersStation, like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter, @PlumbersStation. Happy viewing.
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Halloween Liquor
Getting into the spirit of the season on a budget by Set Phasers to Pun Picture this scenario. It’s Friday at five o’clock and you’re at Blues Pub, like any self-respecting engineer on campus. As you look into your Dollar Store Drinking Vessel™, you wonder, “how in holy hell did this magical ‘alcohol’ get invented?” Relax, I’ve got this. There’s this magical little microbe called yeast. Yeast exists to turn the thing every child wants (copious amounts of sugar) into the thing every adult wants (copious amounts of alcohol). In the same way that pigs convert vegetables into bacon, yeast is also the true hero of this story. Now, there are many types of alcoholic beverage, and that is due to the vast amounts of different sugary things that we can rub yeast on. Wine is grapes, beer is malted barley, and Jägermeister is from your childhood dreams. Now that you know this, I’m sure you are thinking “I’m an engineer, I can totally do this at home”. You’re totally right. All you need is a clean container, yeast, and water. Here are some ideas that will suit this Halloween season. Make a dash to your nearest grocery store and get started. Keep in mind that fermentation can take a while, and we totally aren’t responsible for your health.
Tri-Colour Whiskey Whiskey is a fine and storied spirit that originally hails from Ireland. While many grains can be used in its production, Corn is favoured by people with no standards, and Candy Corn is used by adventurous people with no standards.
Ingredients:
1. Bag of Candy Corn (Costco Lg) 2. Distilled Water (4L) 3. Bread Yeast (1 package)
Equipment:
1. The bottle the distilled water came from 2. Blender 3. Airlock (Google it) 4. Siphon hose 5. Somebody who has permission to distill liquor 6. American Live Oak barrel (for aging) Procedure:
1. Put all of your corn into the blender, with as much water as will fit. 2. Blend it 3. Add yeast 4. Put all of your “mash” back into the bottle and attach the airlock 5. Wait until it stops bubbling 6. Get it distilled (don’t get arrested) 7. Put your distillate into your barrel 8. Wait 40 years 9. Single malt whiskey!!!!!! Fireball:
Repeat above recipe, replacing Candy Corn with Hot Tamales (This might actually be the recipe for Fireball)
A Space Odyssey Malt Liquid Ingredients:
1. 30-40 Packages of Rockets 2. 2L Mountain Dew 3. Distilled water, 40 L 4. US-05 ale yeast (or bread yeast, do what you feel is best)
Equipment:
1. Air lock 2. Mountain Dew bottle 3. Hammer 4. Siphon hose Procedure:
1. Pour out 2L of water (need the space in the bottle) 2. Smash rockets with hammer 3. Dissolve rocket powder in water 4. Add Mountain Dew 5. Add yeast 6. Wait 2 weeks 7. Siphon into Gatorade bottles 8. Re-enact Redbull Space Jump
Fairy Tale Ending Ingredients:
1. Tap water 2. Jumbo Pixie-Stix 3. Bread yeast Materials:
1. Old water bottle 2. Lack of self respect Procedure:
1. Dissolve pixie-stix into water 3/4 full water bottle 2. Add yeast 3. Leave in closet for a week 4. Drink 5. Regret decisions
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Ask Tribaholic
by Tribaholic
Sooo midterms are around the corner for me, so I have to be brief-ish. That being said, there are some important issues that need discussing, so without further ado: How many days can I wear the same pants? Is this a serious question? Or maybe it’s just from management students. Scientific studies (i.e. what I think) that have been peer reviewed (i.e. my Saturday night hookups) have confirmed what scientists (i.e. unhygienic engineers) have long thought about pants: that as the time goes to infinity, the limit of pants-wearing does not exist. This can be shown using a simple Taylor Series expansion, with the Levi coefficient being set to 501, and the series alternating between the “3 button” and “Zipper” nodes. It is worth noting that after every Friday and Saturday evening, the smell coefficient does have a temporary spike, reaching peaks of “beer” and “that sloppy girl’s lunch”, respectively, but with diligence and exactness, we can prove that these peaks have no result on the long term expansion (or “stretch”) of the pants.
How can I wear a slutty costume but still be respected? There are several ways to do this, but my favourite is the “political activism” route. See, when people see your slutty costume, they think of you as someone who does not understand the full nuance of the SSMU Club’s equity policy. You can show them that this is not true by showing how your politics and respect for social justice leaders influences your decisions. For example, last year I saw somebody dressed as “Slutty Pauline Marois”. Usually, she’d just be a slutty girl begging for drink money from the nearest guy in a cowboy hat, but by being Pauline Marois, I could see how this strong defender of low tuition fees and xenophobia inspired her to be all that she could be. Similarly, for men, by being slutty Ghandi, you’re not just a dude in an old bedsheet, without shoes and smelling like last week’s curry - you are a strong bastion of peace. Let your inspiration come from social and political leaders, and you can do no wrong.
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Faucet advice column! Send your questions to faucet@mcgilleus.ca! Should I mix alcohol? No! And Yes! And Sometimes! So here’s the thing about alcohol - it is delicious. But sometimes, it is not very delicious, so you mix it with other alcohol and make it more delicious! Sorry about that - talking about alcohol makes me more love-struck than a masochistic cupid. The simple answer is yes. Because pure (100%) alcohol does not exist, if you refused to drink unmixed alcohol, you are just refusing to drink. That is a silly decision. Even vodka is mixed so it’s 60% water (55% too much, if you ask me). So the question is, what should you mix it with? Water is a respectable choice it helps you rehydrate. Malt, hops, and dead yeast also work, making for some delightfully foamy drinks. Or you can go the traditional European route, mixing it with as bizarre a cocktail of herbs as possible (seriously, go drink Fernet Branca it tastes like a delicious mixture of alcohol and mud). A fourth option is to go the discount route, mixing it with a combination of various Volatile Organic Compounds in the attempt to make a lovely, sipping drink, often enjoyed out of large red plastic receptacles. And for me? Well, after writing this totally unhelpful column, I am about to go drink some alcohol mixed with 300-year old smoke and the dreams of sultry Spanish maidens and fiery-haired Scottish lasses. Or as it is better known Scotch.
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The Wino, the Witch, and their Wardrobes A McGill students’ guide to Halloween costumes by Michael Oxlong, Faucet Fashion Correspondent Halloween is just around the corner, and that means that every Thomas, Richard, and Harold will be planning a costume to wear to the various parties, fetes, balls, soirees, and orgies popping up around campus. Historically, there has been very little variation in costume creativity in ninety-nine percent of cases: Some (call them ‘reds’) will dress as Sexy Nurse, Sexy Cat, Sexy Vampire, Sexy Police Officer, Sexy Firefighter, or even, if particularly adventurous, Sexy Beer Wench. These costumes carry the benefit (the additional benefit) of requiring very little in the way of actual material. Others (‘blues’) will, without exception, all costume themselves as Ghost (cheap, lazy), Toga Person (cheaper, recycled), or College-Slacker-Doesn’t-Give-aSh*t (cheapest, not a costume). Of course, it would be silly and ignorant to project these shallow generalizations without some nominal effort to remedy the situation, so the Faucet will hereby be offering creative, innovative, and, above all, McGill-specific alternatives: new costume ideas for the modern (cheap) university student, with instructions, materials lists, notes, and execution tips.
1. Engineer Notes: This is only a costume if you are not actually an engineer. If you are, you have our sympathies.
Materials: White lab coat (raid medical school supply closet), unkempt neck stubble (wait a week or so, buy it from a homeless man, or glue pubic hair to your face), pale, cave-dwelling complexion (spray paint), hard hat (acquire from construction worker, as they have higher IQs than most engineers), drunkenness. Tips: For added verisimilitude, actually be constantly drunk while wearing the costume. This will also help with the crippling shame of being an engineer.
2. Martlet Note: Very academic-patriotic, full of pep, spirit, pride, and feathers. Materials: Chicken costume, red spray paint, bone saw. Tips: For even more sickening loyalty, go around crowing the school motto, as seen on the coat of arms and flag: “In Condomfi I No Do” (Latin for “I don’t use protection,” a favourite catchphrase of Jimmy McGill).
3. Arts Student Notes: Are you sure you want to go there? Materials: Plaid, flannel shirt (suede elbow patches optional), iPod (or just ear buds, with cord tucked into pocket), thick, black-
rimmed glasses (prescription unnecessary), handlebar moustache, pretentiousness. Warnings: There is no well-defined delineation between feigned, hipster-ish irony and faux-irony assumed for ironic purposes. The very wearing of this costume may actually make you a hipster. There is no known cure.
4. Professor Notes: If executed well, this costume has been known to fool even campus security and the Dean of Faculty. Use with discretion. Materials: Tweed jacket with elbow pads, thick glasses, moustache (be careful: subtle differences exist between this species and the hipster), slippers, grade book, flippancy. Tips: Arrive at party whenever the h*ll you feel like, ideally five to thirty minutes late, yet ruthlessly deride and if possible actually penalize friends who show up slightly after you do. Encourage questions, yet mercilessly mock people who don’t know everything you do. At the end of the party, assign everyone a grade and laugh maniacally. Feel free to go to bed with students or accept such actions as payment toward a passing grade: after all, the costume is tenured.
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5. Janitor Notes: Identical in dress and demeanor to the Engineer costume, with boiler suit substituted for white coat and hard hat. Tips: Mutter threateningly to yourself while walking past students, urinate in water fountain when no one’s looking. Optional: Solve math problems left on blackboard.
6. James McGill. Notes: Creative because never before used, probably because it’s boring and unrecognizable. Materials: Tailcoat, tricorne, walking stick, Scottish accent. Optional: green spray paint to look like a bronze statue. Notes: If no one’s getting it, just change the accent and say you’re Washington or Napoleon. Everyone looked the same in those days (those days = before texting). If you spray painted yourself, say you’re a Living Statue, then stand still for a while and let pigeons relieve themselves on your head.■
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A Sordid Halloween Mad Lib
by Liquid Giggles
Halloween was invented by the Pilgrims in 1734 because they were really exhausted from midterms at the end of October and wanted an excuse to get drunk and laid. Candy was invented in 1742 on Halloween in Baltimore after a drunk reveller lit a sugar factory on fire, associating the treat with the holiday. By the time of the American Revolution, the average American had 6 teeth due to the effects of candy, and thus wearing masks also became associated with Halloween. And now that you know the story behind Halloween, it’s time for you to make some history yourself.
Fill in the blanks and enter them on page 16! 1. Type of building _________________________ 2. Type of music ___________________________ 3. Type of non-alcoholic drink ________________ 4. Type of alcoholic drink ____________________ 5. Adjective _______________________________ 6. Type of animal (plural) ____________________ 7. Noun __________________________________ 8. Verb (present tense) _______________________ 9. TV show or movie ________________________ 10. Type of plant ___________________________ 11. Noun _________________________________ 12. Body part ______________________________ 13. Body part ______________________________ 14. Adjective ______________________________ 15. Noun (plural) ___________________________ 16. A game ________________________________ 17. Noun _________________________________ 18. Type of room ___________________________ 19. A game ________________________________ 20. Body part ______________________________ 21. Relative (mom, uncle, etc) ________________ 22. Name _________________________________
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Blackwoods
Icarus flew too close to the sun, but at least he did not venture too deep... by Daniel Galef
Help. Dear God please help. I have been wandering now for some three weeks in these labyrinthine tunnels beneath the campus without so much as a ball of bread or yarn from which to break crumbs. A lantern might come in handy, too. I have traveled leagues, seen things no man should ever have to see, and found or possibly even discovered scores of hidden stairwells, abandoned bunkers, and even gaping mine shafts, underground lairs, and unexplored caverns stretching for miles below the surface. For now I have been subsisting meagerly on the rats and opossums that make these halls their home. Daily I pass the desiccated bodies and abandoned corpses of lost and forgotten freshmen, alone in the dust. Some are merely skeletons, and from them I take the solace that I am not alone in my predicament. Other times, I simply am left with the feeling of hopelessness that comes from seeing these fellow travelers who failed to reach the surface. Water is plentiful; there are few pipes at this depth that don’t leak, and moisture pools in the depressions in the uneven floors where scuttle strange and un-described organisms, unique and unknown to scientists who labour constantly above, only a
few thousand tons of soil away. But the needs of the body are far outweighed by those of the soul. My flesh and my resolve are weakening. I will be dead ere I see the light of day. Hear, what unfortunate wanderers who may find this note, and, if you prove more successful than myself, let be known my message such that others may take heed and not fall prey to similar vices as we. It all began so simply, without so much as a fleeting shadow, a hint of the dark and dreadful spiral into hell that would come to pass. It was a pleasant spring afternoon, and a class on mining technology had just been dismissed on the east side of campus. We filed out in droves, we did, two dozen happy faces, un-introduced into the treacherous world that exists only a hair’s-
breadth from our own at any given time, a world of hunger and of terror, of danger and death. I have not seen a one of those erstwhile companions since, nor would I wish on them my own predicament to save a hundred lives. I lingered in the hall, engaged in idle conversation with my peers, and in doing so failed to notice that I had let fly the hand of the clock, so that I had now less than five minutes before my next class, a lecture in mythology, was called to session across campus. On this one class, in which would be conducted my last final exam of the year, hinged my grade, hovering precariously on the brink of failure, as well as my ultimate class standing and my graduation as a whole. Turning to the exit, I saw with horror the impenetrable downpour
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that raged just behind the glass of the doors, and recoiled reflexively. I searched my person for an umbrella, a poncho, any slight precaution against the onslaught, but found none. In my satchel were nestled four binders full of handwritten notes, not to mention my computer. The bag itself was not in any way waterproofed or protected from the vertical rivers that now descended from the heavens above in blatant spite of my urgency. O, forgive these foolish mistakes made by a more naïve man! Hastily recalling a tale once told me by a wizened and much-respected senior during my first year so long ago, I searched for an entrance into that vast and unfathomable network of spidery subterranean passages that riddle the earth below campus. I have not escaped since.
There are lights, on occasion, and, yes, some of them even are still functional, despite the apparent lack of maintenance or any contact with the overcity. And there are maps as well. Oh, yes, the maps! I think I might have remained almost sane if it weren’t for the demonic images of the maps, posted on plaques and on bulletin boards and in glass cases and in the clenched bony hands of my silent predecessors. Their sadistic draftsman, perhaps one and the same to that sinister and black-hearted architect who first conceived of these cellars, sewers, and secret catacombs, must take an evil pleasure in their contours. Vague to the point of meaninglessness, I have walked for hours in circles through the red-brick cathedral vaults of Schulich (not the school of music) and under the bustling passages of McConnell (not the residence). I yet wander haplessly between MacDonald Engineering (where I have my physics class) and MacDonald Physics (where I have my engineering class), betwixt MacDonald Chemistry (which only teaches architecture) and MacDonald-Stewart and MacDonald-Harrington (which, for all I know, may all be one and
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the same). It is not impossible that I have found myself at points underneath MacDonald Campus. What nameplates or posted signs I see (and no matter what circuits I weave, I never find the same words twice in the same space) are absurd, either the product of a deranged mind or that of my own or another’s imagination: the Herbert G. Steubenmeyer Memorial Cupboard, the Mino Q. Asterion Professor of Cryptologology, the Experimental Philosophy Laboratory, stare-wells, emergency libraries, bloom closets. I have often wondered if I (and perhaps the others, too, unless the skeletons are also devoted pawns of some foe) am the victim of a vast and shadowy conspiracy, a cruel joke or mad, inhumane experiment. There is no exit, no small respite or relief to even momentarily distract from my ever-nearing doom. I shall not tarry with sentimentalities or well-wishes; if you are reading this, then you are most likely as dead as I. But I hang the last of my life, the last vestige of hope that can be mustered in my spent being, on the minuscule probability of your cheating fate and death to return to a realm where the sun shines and scholars, blissfully ignorant men and women of learning, go about their happy lives. What’s that! I see around the bend a light! I scrawl these lines hastily, as I must investigate! Dare I go so far as to hope that my salvation is at last at hand? It is! I see the light at the end of the tunnel! O fortune! O life! O!
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The Great Dollar Store Drinking Game Update Since the introduction of the Dollar Store Drinking Game in our last issue, response has been overwhelmingly positive. I’ve seen dog bowls and kettles and all sorts of nonsense that has brought Blues Pub to new heights of silliness. What is the Dollar Store Drinking Game? There are full details in our last issue, but the gist of it is to go to Dollarama before Blues Pub to buy something to drink out of, but cannot use anything that was used by someone in previous weeks. Remember that it is going to be in full swing during the Halloween blues Pub on the 25th, and there will be bonus points if it suits your costume! We might look the other way for using past weeks items if you are really hitting a good theme. Here are some happy participants from the last few weeks!
Dog bowl and paint tray, for fans of surface area.
Orange and majestic. Ashkaan looks pretty cool too.
Ashtray? Flower pot? Even he doesn’t know! Pencil trays and garden pots, for the diligent students and gardeners of engineering.
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Noise Complaints by McGill Administration Adam Pickersgill
As we approach the Halloween season, please allow me to share this reminder about how important it is to maintain good relations with our neighbours.
Turns out that rats are 50% alcohol. No way I’m cleaning my kitchen now.
The Office of the Dean of Students Plumber’s Faucet has long been committed to fostering and improving relations with McGill’s neighbours, particularly those who live in the densely populated area immediately to the east of the downtown campus, known as the Milton-Parc community McGill Ghetto. I would ask that you be considerate about noise levels in the neighbourhood, both when at home and when walking from place to place. The narrow residential streets of the area seem to amplify sound and what might seem like a reasonable conversation or gathering to one person, can have someone down the street awake late at night wishing that they were having such a good time too.
Keep him watered, and he’ll grow big and tall. Or fall over. How does this work again?
While relations between the community and the University have been improving, thanks in large measure to some very hard work on the part of students, there have been incidents of noisy parties and public drinking (which is illegal necessary) as well as some cases of urinating in public, which is also illegal necessary. Police Good friends are quite prepared to issue Proclamations of “it’s fINe” fines for any of these offences. Finally, please do not hesitate to call WalkSafe at 514-398-2498 or DriveSafe at 514398-8040 – two student services dedicated to helping you get home safely at the end of the night. as both of these groups of students probably also want to party with you.
Garbage can, box thing, and traffic cones. The triple entente.
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JWII: Jaywalk Harder The second installment of the story of one of Montreal’s greatest criminal masterminds. by Liquid Giggles
Crossing against a red on St. Cats gave a massive rush to a country boy like me, but half the time there was another jaywalker by my side. I was no longer special, but at least I had found others to share my interests, and I cultivated a variety of friendships.
In the Back to School Issue, you saw how I got my first taste of crime as a child when I found myself forced to jaywalk. Now you will see my introduction to Montreal, the most sordid corner of the jaywalking underworld. After I was unexpectedly thrust into the dark underworld of jaywalking as a ten-year old (see previous installment), I spent the rest of my childhood feeling like a god amongst children. I completely removed from my mind the conception that there are rules about when and where a pedestrian should walk, except when faced by a metric ton of metal hurtling at me at 50 km/hr. The cops didn’t mind in my small town in rural South-Western Ontario, so I was Lord of the Road. But my small town was not enough for me. When I would visit other cities with my family, my
fantasies would be stirred by the marvellous jaywalking opportunities available. One way streets! 4-lane roads! Meridians! And I could see the denizens of these cities flaunting traffic laws all over the place – kindred spirits unlike the narrow-minded rubes of my hometown. Unfortunately, my parents kept me on a tight leash when visiting places like these, so my fantasies grew all the more elaborate. For obvious reasons, when it came time to choose what to do after high school, I knew I would come to McGill in Montreal. The city had a reputation for its vibrant jaywalking scene, and I figured that with all the public corruption and hockey riots, cops would have better things to do than worry about my own criminal activities. In Montreal, I soon found that I was a small fish in a big pond.
In that first year I fought to work myself deep into the criminal underworld of the Montreal jaywalker. I crossed streets whenever I pleased and revelled in Montreal’s traffic oddities. The intersection of Milton and Hutchinson was always a wonder to behold, with its 5-stage light cycle which followed no real logic but was always a pleasure to ignore. Then there was the intersection of Peel and Dr. Penfield, where the masses would wait for the elusive 4-way walking sign while I would stroll through in the face of right-turning traffic. It was like the city’s streets had been built intentionally byzantine to satisfy the curiosity of a recreational criminal like myself. But all good things must come to an end, and I was flying very close to the sun. One day, to celebrate the exam I had finished in Molson Stadium, I decided to celebrate by jaywalking the portion of Pins where there is wrought iron fence on the meridian. This was before that hole was bent into the fence (more on that later), so it was no easy task. I looked both ways, sprinted to the fence, and climbed. There were
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pedestrians on the street, but they were too preoccupied by the pain of exams to notice. When I got to the top of the fence, I looked to the left and saw a police car in the distance, but it was nothing to worry about. I then proceeded to slip, falling headfirst towards the road but catching my belt on the top of the fence. And there I hung, with a crowd watching the spectacle, as the police cruiser rounded the bend. He stopped in the middle of the road, blocking off traffic, and proceeded to bring me down, chastise me, and write me up for the first jaywalking ticket of my life. I was caught and humiliated. I had failed as a jaywalker. After the hubbub died down, I walked home, obeying every light along the way, and went to bed. For the next week, I followed every traffic regulation to the T. My mind was in shambles, because I feared that I that would never jaywalk again and that everything I had based my life around was falling apart. I might have paid the ticket and given up as a jaywalker at that point. But then she came along…
In the next installment, read about how I met my true love, my triumphant comeback into the world of jaywalking, and my establishment as Montreal’s greatest jaywalker.
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Why the Toronto Maple Leafs are Superior Montreal Canadiens by Amanda dos Santos
Editor’s Note: Amy did not lose a bet to Tribaholic over whether the Leafs would outperform the Habs in last year’s season series, and was under no obligation to write this article as a result. I’m fairly confident that this born-and-bred Quebec woman keeps a dozen blue and white jerseys under her bed.
The Name When the team was first formed in 1917, there was much debate over what it would be called. It was initially just “Toronto”, but that was unsuitable. They considered the Toronto Timber Wolfs, the Toronto Pocket Knifes, and the Toronto Santa’s Elfs, before finally settling on the Maple Leafs.
to Maple Leafs” printed on it. The Venue An arena named after beer? No self-respecting hockey team would have that. Toronto plays at the prestigious Air Canada Centre. Your luggage only gets lost twice in the first period. The Colours Toronto’s colours are the most pure. White symbolizes peace, surrender, and humility. Blue symbolizes conservatism, calm, and the Virgin Mary. The team is free of the devil colour, red, symbolizing, amongst other things, energy, passion, fire, speed, strength, and aggression. Bonus: The Girl Next Door The Captain of the team, Dion Phaneuf, married Elisha Cuthbert this summer. Nicely done there.
The Nickname They are often referred to as the Maple Laughs. This is because Toronto fans are jovial and know how to have a good time. And all other hockey fans definitely laugh along with them, not at them. The Logo The Maple Leafs logo represents the team without the complexity of other logos, like the Canadiens’ logo. You don’t need to think about the order of the letters, or what the hell an H is doing in there. It is a maple leaf, with the words “Toron-
We’ve had a crush on her since our prepubescent days of watching Popular Mechanics for Kids, the show that incidentally made us become engineers. Everything considered, it is clear that Toronto is far superior to Montreal when it comes to hockey.
14 the plumber’s FAUCET
A Piece of Pot Another excerpt from the days of yore The Plumber’s Pot was a McGill Engineering humour magazine that was in print from the fifties until the late eighties. It was often hilarious, and just as often controversial. There’s a lot of stuff that we would never publish today, which I suppose is why it was banned from campus in ‘88. The Pot is a big part of EUS history - it was known about and either loved or hated by everyone on campus. At the Faucet, we are pleased to present a few of its tamer pieces, so you can look back at some of the past triumphs of engineering students.
From the Plumber’s Pot:
WRITE YOUR OWN MCGILL DAILY ARTICLE Anybody can write a McGill Daily article! Just fill in the blanks with any choice from the numericallycorresponding column. The (1) will (2) at 8 a.m. Monday, barring (3) at the final conciliation meeting today. “Unless (4) occur at this meeting, we are (5) on Monday,” said a (6) member of the (7). But, in a conflicting statement, (8), (9), denied any knowledge of the (10). “I am optimistic that the (10) will be successful, and I don’t expect (3),” he declared. (1) -members of the McGill -Redmen -300 rampaging Arts students -employees of the Union -cafeteria -ten unemployed professors -three suspended students
(2) -hold a banana eating contest -march to the Administration Building -hit themselves -stage a protest -call Dean S. Mirza a bad name (3) -a tidal earthquake -any unforeseen developments -a solar eclipse -any last-minute miracles -a gathering of drunken engineers (4) -serious breakthrough -some good laughs -a couple of U.F.O. sightings -good farts (5) -walking out -trying to walk -walking in -going for a walk -trying to find someone who can walk
(6) -disgusted -drunken -intoxicated -stoned -smashed (7) -group -mob -comedians -misguided fools -diligent delinquents (8) -Boom Boom Geoffrion -Paul Drager -A.J. Foyt -Avalino Gomez -Marc Bernier (9) -not in control of his senses at the time -in a totally flippant manner -in an angry tone of voice -members of the McGill -objectivists -captain of the ping pong team (10) -upcoming actions -actions upcoming -forewarned incident -incident forewarned -event
the plumber’s FAUCET
15
16 the plumber’s FAUCET
A Sordid Halloween Mad Lib
by Liquid Giggles
Complete page 7 before reading!
I remember my first Halloween at McGill. I was invited to a party at a big 1. _____________________, which was owned by the relative of a friend. Everyone was dressed up, and they were blasting 2. _____________________ and serving a mixed drink made up of 3. _____________________ and 4. _____________________. The party was nuts – people were getting completely 5. _____________________, and were acting like 6. _____________________. I saw a girl dressed as a 7. _____________________ 8. _____________________ right in front of a guy, which was pretty wild for a small town Ontarian like myself. Also, there was a group dressed as the cast of 9. _____________________ smoking 10. _____________________ on the patio. Anyway, I was going to meet my girlfriend there, who was going as a mute 11. _____________________. Midway through the evening, I spotted her by the refrigerator, so I walked up and held her around the 12. _____________________. She couldn’t talk and I couldn’t see the expression on her face because of the costume, but she nodded her head and grabbed my 13. _____________________. She was obviously feeling 14. _____________________ that night. Anyway, we hung around with some people dressed as 15. _____________________ playing 16. _____________________, before deciding to sneak outside for some trick-or-treating behind the bushes, if you know what I mean. We kept our masks on, and she was definitely feeling kinky that night, because we tried some unconventional positions, including the 17. _____________________, though I’m not sure how that suited her costume. Anyway, when we were done, we returned to the party and she went to the 18. _____________________. Literally a minute later, I saw her on the other side of the house in middle of a game of 19. _____________________. I gave her a quick kiss on the 20. _____________________, after which she asked, “There you are – where have you been?” “What do you mean?” I replied, “We were just having “a walk” out back a few minutes ago. And I thought you were going as a mute 11. _____________________?” “Oh, ha ha, I gave up on the mute thing a while ago. And you must have been fooled by my 21. _____________________ 22. _____________________. We are going with twin costumes today. Quite an actor that one. What’s the matter? You look like you saw a ghost.” I was a little taken aback after that. But you know what, I’m actually kind of glad it happened. You see, I love the 17. _____________________, so I spoke to 22. _____________________ about it the next week. And now I’m broken up with my girlfriend, and me and her 21. _____________________ are going to live happily ever after.