Winter 2014 by Satyr Magazine

THE

SATYR

MAGAZINE VOLUME TWO WINTER

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

CONTENTS

DEPARTMENTS 4 5 20 25 31 33 34

Letter From the Editors Between the Sheets I Daily Ruin Highlights for Kids Letter from Gene Block Between the Sheets II Get Involved

ARTICLES 6 7 8

Horoscopes College Lingo for Parents Passive Agressive Agressive Post-its 10 5 Totally True and Unbaised Facts about Introverts 12 “Birthday Song”: A Formal Explication 14 An Open Letter from the Makers of OS1 15 The Greatest Poem Ever Written 17 Your College Essay 19 Letter to the Future Editors 22 Westboro Pitch Meeting 29 Ode to a Comedy Magazine 30 Leaked Emails 32 A Guide to the Perfect Date

COMICS 7 9 11 13 13 18

Cover by Aliya Kamalova

Jesus in Video Games Neuroscience PSA Hand Model Lemons Valentine’s Slay Dali Lama

EDITORS Aliya Kamalova Chives Marcie LaCerte Blazed Potato Sachin Medhekar Writer/Graphic Designer/Illustrator/ Copy/Layout/Micro-Manager

STAFF Nathan Galovan Writer Ellie Martino Writer/ Illustrator Anaika Miller Writer Nathan Mosher Writer Utkarsh Pandey Writer Joseph Earl Remlinger IV Writer Gayan Seneviratna Writer/Illustrator

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Dear unsuspecting reader, Just a few months ago, shortly after the publication of our last issue, when our eyes still glistened with naive hope and our loins still lusted for a solemn (but sweet) caress, we had the intention of publishing this very issue before Winter Quarter had ended. Unfortunately, myriad fiascos, flubs, and failures plagued the last ten weeks of our lives, and we were forced by a disembodied male voice to hand out our publication the early weeks of Spring Quarter. And, for that, we humbly apologize. However, where Satyr lacks diligence or consistency or a sexually active staff, we certainly make up for it in diversity. Did you know that there are only three white people on staff, one of whom is leaving us next quarter? Considering the fact that Satyr is blowing up on the World Wide Web and that we had enough funds last quarter to finally print a hip, monochromatic issue, we’re sure that we’ve gained enough popularity to consider ourselves UCLA’s sole and foremost proponent for racial diversity among student organizations. So, considering the fact that the three editors are of foreign origin, we have written a few celebratory words in our mother tongues: ईस वक्त तुम यह क्या कर रहे हो? यह क्या कूडा-कचडा पढ रहे हो? क्या ईसी लिये तुम्हारे माता-पिताने कडी मेहनतके बाद इतनी अच्छी कालिजमें पढाईके लिये भेजा है ताकि तुम ‘कामेडी’ मैगजीन पढनेमें अपना वक्त बरबाद करो? अब यह बिलकुल नही चलेगा! तुमने तो डाक्टर या एन्जिनियर बनने के लिये जरूरी पढाईमें व्यस्त होना चाहिये. तुम्हारे इम्तेहानके ग्रेडजके बारे में तो मुझसे बात ही मत करो. तुम्हें क्या लगता है कि इस तरह वक्त बरबाद करनेके बाद तुम ग्रेजूएट स्कूलमें दाखिला ले पाओगे? तुम्हारे पुरखे तुम्हारी उम्रके थे, वे हमेशा हर कक्षामें अव्वल आते रहे. हम तो हैरान हैं इतनी अच्छी परंपराके बावजूद तुम इतनी हद तक आलसी निकलोगे! अब यह गंदा रिसाला फैंक दो और अपने पाठ्यपुस्तक पढना शुरू करो। Bonjur, fellow Canucks! Los Angeles weather is far warmer than the Great White North, eh? But Angelinos can’t spend a brisk day in the snow skiing and tobogganing, and then put on a cozy red flannel and munch on a nice warm plate of poutine, and...fuck...fuck it. I’m sorry, but this is a farce! I haven’t been to Canada in over a decade, and I’m still supposed to maintain a grasp on the kerfluffle that is Canadian slang? I mean, come on, homo milk? How is that supposed to be a thing actual people say?? I’m sorry, Canada. I know The Cup is coming up in little over a month, so I don’t want to make you all feel bad—gosh, I’m real sorry if I did—so I think I’ll accept the fact that my homeland is no longer a part of me, regardless of how much bacon and maple syrup I consume. Sorry—I’m sorry! Sorry. I’m saying “sorry” too much—sorry. Vive le Québec libre! Товарищи! Если вы прочитали это, то вы сделали правильный выбор! Вы в нужной команде! Печатные издания - это издания будущего и мы должны объединиться, чтобы пропагандировать жанр комедии среди наших потомков. Однако, это невозможно когда лидерство поделено среди трёх редакторов. Уважаемые читатели! Mне нужна ваша поддержка, чтобы я могла контролировать ситуацию в моём издании во имя всех людей у кого есть чувство юмора. Присоединяйтесь товарищи, чтобы мы смогли восстать и создать весомое комедийное издание под руководством одного редактора. Я буду работать во имя своих последователей, чтобы забрать контроль у алчных редакторов-капиталистов Sachin и Marcie. Мы должны внедрять комедию в массы, и я обязуюсь это сделать. We thank you for accepting us into your hearts after having this magazine thrust upon you on Bruin Walk, and we hope the disembodied male voice does not come after you, too. With love, Satyr PS For your safety, we’ve included a small packet of sassafras that will dispel any unwanted spirits. Godspeed.

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

BETWEEN THE SHEETS Metrognome

Joe’s Musings It’s amazing how white people can be so easily defined by Buzzfeed lists. Listening to married people talk about their boring lives makes me want to divorce my wife I bet we could go back and beat the shit out of Vietnam right now “I’m only comfortable in other people’s skin.” Hannibal Lecter Capitalism is like giving the chimps in a zoo just the right amount of bananas so they forget they’re being held against their will.

Most Useless Entries in the Guinness Book of World Records By Utkarsh Pandey

Why do I keep getting turned down for happy endings at Thai restaurants? What am I doing wrong?

1. Largest natural appendix 2. Largest collection of Chipotle receipts 3. Most days spent in one hour 4. Fastest egg to ever be boiled 5. Fastest 100m walking backwards on your knees 6. Ugliest man to ever have consensual sex 7. Longest career as a temp 8. Longest hair on left testicle 9. Longest hair on right testicle 10. Longest hair on only testicle 11. Youngest person to ever turn 18 12. Least Guinness World Records held by an individual 13. Most times decapitated in one hour 14. Most daddy issues acquired in 18 years

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

College Lingo For Parents By Nathan Mosher

Isn’t it beginning to seem like every college kid on the frat block is speaking an entirely different, far dirtier language than what you speak? It’s because they are! Here’s a handy guide to making sense out of that weird Millennial jargon, so you can start using it and stop being an adult! Relive the glory days of your youth, you sad, pathetic sac of free-radicals.

“Let’s get baked.”

Translation: Let’s frequent our local bakery.

“I’m gonna get fucked up!”

“I’m faded as fuck!”

Translation: Please, let’s not engage in strenuous or Translation: This Facebook picture needs to be dangerous activities, because I’d prefer to keep my touched up. health intact. Translation of translation: This online social networking website that helps members identify each other with profiles that include a picture, name, birthdate, “Pass the blunt, bro.” Translation: Do you have any extra pencils? Mine is interests, etc.’s picture needs to be touched up. not sharpened at the moment.

“Turn down for what?”

Translation: Can you please repeat that question, my music is too loud.

“Bitches be bitches, bro.”

Translation: Female dogs are indeed female dogs.

“She’s a total sloot.”

Translation: She is an experienced detective, short for sleuth.

“There’s dimes left and right here!”

Translation: There are dimes on the floor—who dropped their wallet? t

JESUS IN VIDEO GAMES

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Passive Aggressive Aggressive Post-Its Some of you might have perfect roommates—they don’t eat your Sun Chips, they clean up their dishes, they always knock before entering. The rest of you aren’t on Oxycontin. So what do you do when your roommates are subhuman monsters incapable of basic compassion? In Cosmopolitan or Seventeen, they might tell you to leave “passive aggressive post-its” around your dorm. Hahaha—fuck that. Those have about the same effect as a high school’s Model United Nations has on real-world North Korea. So, instead, post one of these around. Do it. Let the bitchiness flow through you. t

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

5 True and totally unbiased Facts About introverts by Irvin Alger Do you hate it when everyone else is partying, and you’re stuck at home reading Buzzfeed lists and Satyr articles? Don’t worry! With this list, you can claim a feeling of smug self-righteousness over those damn extroverts and their partying and road-tripping and friend-having lifestyles. 1. Introverts

are so much more creative than extroverts!

No extrovert could have ever written that 30-page Sherlock fanfic that includes no additional characters and basically rehashes the plot of “The Reichenbach Fall” into a homoerotic Sherlock/Watson/Moriarty threesome. Isn’t it amazing how by not speaking with other people and diversifying your thoughts, you end up being a million times more creative than other people? Certainly, it couldn’t be the fact that you have the time to do those things.

Extroverts are selfish, fake vampires who suck the energy from people. 2.

Ugh, it’s so easy to tell when extroverts are faking their smiles. All they do is bother people to satisfy their own need for excitement. I bet that when they talk about all the cool things they do, they’re just lying! And they’re always asking us to get out more— they’re the most judgmental people ever! 3. Monroe/Lincoln/Gandhi

were introverts!

And look how successful they were! You haven’t met these people, but we’re sure they sometimes spent time alone. This must mean they’re introverts! Please disregard the fact that their job description was basically “professional people-people”. 4. We’re

not shy nerds who don’t know how to hold conversations.

Remember that time at dinner when someone asked you how your week was, and you barely mumbled out, “Okay”? That wasn’t because you couldn’t come up with an intelligent response to carry the conversation (you’re too creative for that to be true)—it’s because you’re just scared about them judging you for saying something wrong. It’s not like conversationality is considered a valuable skill. 5. We

need alone time in order to recharge.

Recharge what? You’re not sure. It’s like energy, but for social interactions. It may not make scientific sense, but you swear you saw someone Facebook about it somewhere. Look, here’s the thing: You aren’t an introvert because you didn’t go out one night. You aren’t an extrovert because you happened to have a good conversation with some people you met for the first time. People’s moods vacillate with their environments, and that‘s okay. Just stop trying to define yourself, and you might learn to actually enjoy people again. Sincerely, Someone who does hate clubbing, though. I mean seriously, what the fuck? t

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

“Birthday Song” By 2 Chainz

Formal Explication By Nathan Mosher 2 Chainz is applauding his female friend, apparently going by the surname “Birthday”, and wishes to include his audience in the celebration. 1

2 Chainz is referencing his love of Robert Louis Stevenson, the acclaimed 19th-century writer. An avid reader, 2 Chainz shares his love of literature with his female friend. 2

This is a reference to Churchill’s famous Iron Curtain speech where Churchill clarifies claims about his speech writing skills; 2 Chainz has adapted this speech. The original quote from Churchill: “My constituents, people always be asking how I come up with this shit, and I’m like I just do it for the people, feel me?” 3

Intro Yeah birthday, it’s your birthday1 If I die bury me inside that Louis store2

2 Chainz is referencing Stevenson’s last novel Booties and Hoes, displaying, once again, his affinity for American literature. 4

Hook They ask me what I do and who I do it for And how I come up with this shit up in the studio3 All I want for my birthday is a big booty ho All I want for my birthday is a big booty ho4 When I die, bury me inside the Gucci store When I die, bury me inside the Louis store5 All I want for my birthday is a big booty ho All I want for my birthday is a big booty ho6 Verse 1 She got a big booty so I call her Big Booty7 Scrr... Scrr... wrist moving, cooking, getting to it8 I’m in the kitchen, yams everywhere Just made a juug, I got bands everywhere9 You the realest nigga breathing if I hold my breath Referee, with the whistle, brrrrrt, hold this tech10 Extendo clip, extendo roll When your girl leave me she need a hair salon11 Hair weave killer going on a trapathon See I done had more bombs than Pakistan Dope bomb, dro bomb, and a pill bomb12 See nigga, I’m balling, you in will call13 When I die, bury me inside the jewelry store When I die, bury me inside the Truey store True to my religion, two everything I’m too different So when I die, bury me next to two bitches14

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Scholars still have not agreed on the meaning of this section, though some propose that perhaps 2 Chainz, when referring to “Gucci”, may have been referencing the ancient Egyptian pharaoh, Guccia the Fifth, who was known for his lavish mastaba (“house for eternity”) and abundance of personal possessions, including a multitude of literature. The lines still remain ambiguous, however, as 2 Chainz seems to have put two versions of the same thought by accident, in that it is not possible for one to be buried in both the “Gucci store” and the “Louis store”. Perhaps he wishes his body to be portioned off to both sites, or more likely, the typo was retained in the final version of the song through shotty transmission. 5

Likely repeated for emphasis

2 Chainz is referring to the style in which Stevenson would write, often straightforward and matter-of-fact, calling things by their descriptions and likeness rather than their direct name. 7

This is another reference to Stevenson’s literary style. 8

2 Chainz is reflecting on a pivotal moment in his life when he was first exposed to Southern music, piecing the individual moments in his life that made him who he is today. 9

A troubling time in his life, 2 Chainz reminisces upon his first asthma attack while playing basketball, a trauma that left him scarred and, for several months, unable to play basketball with his prior vigor. Sources have found that 2 Chainz’s love of reading flourished because of his inability to play basketball. 10

Hair loss struck 2 Chainz at an abnormally young age. He, to this day, wears a long-hair toupée, a clear overcompensation for his troubled childhood. 11

2 Chainz speaks of his childhood once again, growing up in the wartorn Middle East, trying to piece together the remnants of a shattered childhood. 12

2 Chainz is vacillating between two burial locations for his future corpse. He retains many connections to significant locations in his life; as such, it is difficult for him to decide on what is most significant location. 13

While literature and ancient Egyptian history are two motifs in his life, 2 Chainz is divided between the two unrelated academic fields. Exemplifying the existentialist battle prominent in many modern day era literary figures, 2 Chainz voices a clear discontent about burial and the process of death as a ceremony in general. While he wishes to be buried in places of high beauty and embellished grandeur, he acknowledges the opulence of his dream, presenting a clear dilemma and disparate disposition. t 14

Valentine’s Slay by Ellie Martino

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Dear customer,

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

By Nathan Mosher

he year was 2011, and I had just come out of the

Iraq War unscathed. God had blessed me with my life and my health, something many of my peers could not say for themselves. Looking back, I still feel as if my life should have been taken rather than those of my comrades. What I saw in the war was grueling and immediately consequential, leaving me immobilized emotionally for the next few years. I still get nightmares of working as an army IT specialist—I see computers fallen from the Earth, too weak to breathe their last hope; I see wires, fiddling back and forth like laser gunshots into the horizon. Those years haunt me to my very core. Some people say you can create your life experiences, but I say it’s the opposite—your life experiences make you, and looking back, I know that I’m a set mold, fixed together by each and every moment in my life. Everyone has a tough life, but it’s the struggles that you go through that define you; only through suffering can you be chiseled into a masterpiece. I think everyone is a unique piece of art. Some are tall, some are thin, and some are hardened by a crippled past, but we all shine bright, like diamonds in the sky. And when I wrote my magnum opus, I had to look hard at my life and see where I could connect to the world, what it was that made me human. I had to look back at everything in my life. I had to look back on the war—the lives lost, the computers failed, the faces of men unable to check Facebook. I had to look back at what made me human. I began to reevaluate whether difficult times actually made life worth living when I started attending Harvard. I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t pinpoint why I was here on Earth to experience the raw unpredictability of life. I fell into a deep depression— my girlfriend still loved me, job recruiters flooded my doorstep with mail, and I was at the top of my class, but I still felt like there was supposed to be something more. I never thought I would struggle so much. My mother told me it was a part of the human condition to struggle. She said that God is a kid with a magnifying glass, and humans are the ants. But I couldn’t accept that. I couldn’t accept that life could be so cruel, that suffering is the norm. Mom was right to say God is just a big old boy, holding up his magnifying glass to me, focusing the light on me, making me burn in awe. But something I always forget is that even though life may be tough and God may be burning us, we should never forget that without that light, we’d have nothing to lead our way. And that’s something I started to forget after graduating law school. I was still searching for where that light was leading, and nothing felt more unnerving than being lost in a sea of despair.

When the love of my life, Anna, and I moved to New York, I started to learn what suffering really meant. Endless promotions at the law firm kept coming towards me, but it just wasn’t what I wanted. Anna was promoted to CEO of a Fortune 500, but I still felt like life was empty, like nothing I could do could make me happy. But then I found poetry. Poetry shook me off my high pedestal of suffering. I started working on a poem for the ages, showing it to my coworkers at the firm. They all disregarded the mastery of it, but I knew that it was something to be shared to the world. I took it to all the publishing companies around town, but they were uninterested, unwilling to piece together what made the world tick. I crafted my poem day and night, losing sleep and precious work hours. Like a fine sculptor, I chiseled away at my work, channeling my past life’s melancholy, the experiences that made me tear up from my sheer inadequacy, taking that magnifying glass away from God and burning all my bad memories. And it all culminated into one poem. So here I am, showing this to whomever is reading this reputable publication, so that they too can illuminate themselves to the world around them. This poem is both beautiful and repelling; it calms and disturbs the world at large; it is everything and nothing. It is my poem; it is your poem; it is the human poem; it is the greatest poem ever written. I present to you:

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Life, Man.

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

@satyrmag

facebook.com/satyrmagazine

“Have none of you guys seen sci-fi movies? Huge corporations are always evil. Remember Weyland Industries from Alien? How about Tyrell Corporation from Blade Runner?” The bill, which will allow the Omnidyne Corporation to begin setting up a large and much-needed telecommunications network in poverty-stricken areas of Africa, has had many Americans up in arms for the past several months. “It’s just another disguised attack on our civil liberties,” said Sahand Nayebaziz, a bartender from Colorado. “The fact that this bill even made it to the floor of the House demonstrates

While Omnidyne Corporation is mainly known for its charitable work around the world—including its large network of homeless shelters, free medical clinics, and wildlife sanctuaries—this bill would mark the corporation’s first foray into telecommunications. When asked what his specific grievances were with the Telecommunications Bill, Kratzer continued, apparently from when we last spoke with him, “—and Cyberdyne from Terminator, Soylent Co. from Soylent Green, Buy ‘N Large from WALL-E, Omni Consumer Products from RoboCop—” For the past seven years, the Omnidyne Corporation was ranked in the “Top Ten Most Hated Companies in the World” by the Pew Research Center. Just last year, Omnidyne became

able to meet up with him in his modest four-bedroom home. When asked about his corporation’s poor public image, Jancich explained that change would be difficult. “Of course I want people to like the company,” said Jancich, wiping away tears, “but we don’t have any room in the budget for marketing or promotion. Any profits we make go straight back into the charities, and that’s how it’s always going to be.” “You know,” continued Jancich, “sometimes people’s hate really gets to me, but I just have to remind myself that they’re people too, and they are entitled to their opinions.” Jancich asked us not to publish his city of residence, as he already receives numerous death threats every day. t

BY UTKARSH PANDEY RUIN STAFF

rumors seem to suggest that the higher-ups in the band do not feel that a new album is completely warranted, due to a lack of original songs since

by the trombone section, who said they were “fed up” with the “trumpets taking all the credit for everything ever.”

UCLA Bruin Marching Band Compiles Greatest Hits Album, Struggles To Find More Than Three Greatest Hits

WASHINGTON—Alec Kratzer, age 27, stands outside the Capitol Building, holding a sign that reads, “Omnidyne means Omni-DEATH for our freedom!” He’s not alone. With him are a few thousand other protesters, gathered in the streets to protest Congress as it gets ready to sign a bill into law. The bill in question is the Omnidyne Global Telecommunications Bill, one of the newest pieces of legislation brought forth by the Omnidyne Corporation. “Isn’t it obvious? They’re just plain evil!” said Kratzer, throwing down his sign.

Sinister. Terribly sinister. We feel violated, almost, jut by looking at this logo.

BY SACHIN MEDHEKAR RUIN STAFF

LOS ANGELES—A recent article revealing that UCLA elevator permits have largely expired is renewing discussion over the ominous screeches, shaking, and organ music frequently experienced within these elevators. A UCLA Housing representative speaking on conditions of anonymity assured the Daily Ruin that expired permits have nothing to do with the safety of the elevators, but also urged people to take the stairs as often as possible. “It’s the supernatural world that you have to watch out for,” said the representative, “not the permits.”

If you experience bleeding carpets, cacophonous whispers, or dismemberment while in a UCLA elevator, please remain calm, and try to come to terms with your imminent demise.

BY ANAIKA MILLER RUIN STAFF

Public Refuses To Believe That Mega-Corporation Isn’t Evil Expired Elevator Permits the disgusting and powerful control the largest supplier of organic vegecorporations have over our democratic tarian food in North America, as an Raise Concern government.” act which spurred many lifelong vegeAfter the interview, Nayebaziz in- tarians to swithc to an all-meat-diet in Of Supernatusisted that we mention the fact that he protest. used air-quotes when saying the phrase We reached out to Garret Jancich, ral Threat “democratic government”. the CEO of Omnidyne, and were

WINTER 2014

thesatyrmag.com

DAILY RUIN UCLA’s Occasionally Preferred Newsource

This week I have to review Quizup, a thing that asks me a bunch of questions that I don’t know the answers to. I don’t even know my grandkids’ names, let alone what an iPhone is. Anyway, I bought my granddaughter a screwdriver for Christmas, and she helped me open my phone to play the game. When I clicked the game, some lady who sounded like my late wife started talking to me, so I threw the phone at my cat. I love that cat—he’ll never leave me. Everyone eventually leaves me. Someday I’m going to get out of this retirement home and never see that nagging nurse Carrie-Anne again. She thinks I can’t see that pill in my Subway meatball sub once a week, and she expects me to eat it with that nasty medication inside. I can’t wait to get out of here and leave behind all these drooling old people. I won bingo yesterday for the

BY HERBERT CLARK TECH CONTRIBUTER

Herbert Clark’s Hot Tech Talks

LOS ANGELES—There was furor among fans of the UCLA Bruin Marching Band late on Wednesday evening, when band director Gordon Henderson announced the postponement of the much-anticipated Greatest Hits album, which was originally scheduled to be released in June.

Clark is the Ruin’s resident tech expert. Questions or tech review requests can be mailed via post to Room 103, Shady Graves Retirement Home for Seniors in Scottsdale, Arizona.

seventh time this month—that’s skill right there. Anyway, I give Quizup a 4/10. t

Tech Corner

“We’ve hit a few obstacles along the way,” said Henderson, addressing the fourteen-strong crowd that braved the biting wind to hear him speak that evening. Although Henderson did not specify the particular hiccups that had caused the disappointing release delay, *Name changed

Once the first pieces of dirty laundry were aired, it snowballed into an all-out civil war amongst the various sections of the band, with each trying to outdo the other with complex arpeggios and riffs alike. With the viability of the Greatest Hits project already in question, the conflict reached its tipping point when the drum-line annexed over half the woodwind section, prompting the directors to call for an immediate cease-play. Reports indicate that the marching band is attempting to cover up its botched attempt to boost its popularity by releasing a remastered version of True Blue in early 2015, though we at the Daily Ruin fail to understand why it takes over a year of hard labor to make an album sound exactly the same as it did before. t

ADDIS ABABA—The Ethiopian cooking show Rice has been cancelled after the program’s executive producers were not able to gather the necessary supplies for the first episode. Fox International Studios stated that though they “really wanted authentic Ethiopian delicacies for this show, we had no idea how hard that would be to find.” The show’s host and chef, Seid Mulugeta (which is ironically a two-firstnames name in Ethiopia), said, “The executive producers totally underestimated how much it sucks to be authentically Ethiopian.” Mulugeta (last name) has been a controversial figure in the Ethiopian cooking community after his chain of restaurants, Starving With Seid, came under fire for being “too authentically

Ethiopian”. The standard dining procedure forced customers to wait in line for three days before making the patrons fight over a single bag of expired pinto beans ripped open in the center of the room. Exasperated Fox producers recently resorted to begging their fans to help their poverty-stricken network. “We have supported, helped, and scraped together for such horrible Fox shows as Bones, Dads, Brooklyn NineNine, Glee, Raising Hope, Bones, Enlisted, American Dad, The Following, Us and Them, Gang Related, Surviving Jack, Bones, Rake—whatever the fuck that is—The Mindy Project, and Bones, and now we need our amazing fans to help bring Rice to the airwaves. Please help. Fox is starving.” t

BY JOSEPH EARL REMLINGER IV RUIN STAFF

Ethiopian Cooking Show Cancelled After Producers Unable To Gather Supplies For Pilot

the album True Blue was released in 2009. “We already got sued for the first one we put out,” said Kelly Flickinger, Assistant Director, “and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let it happen again just to put three more lousy songs on iTunes.” Although band members were firmly instructed not to talk to the press, the Daily Ruin managed to arrange a secret meeting with a senior member of the band whose role, by his own description, was to “wave a big flag around”. When asked about the feasibility of creating the album, John Wooden* said, “‘Mighty Bruins’ is pretty good I suppose.” When probed further, John became visibly defensive and said, “I guess ‘Hail to the Hills of Westwood’ is okay too. Can I leave now? You guys are really pushy for journalists.” Although the legality of the album was in question to begin with, sources seem to indicate that the primary hurdles were presented to the producers Katie Green, a third-year art history student, said that she is scared of the elevators, but the eerie noises haven’t stopped her from using them. “I guess I’m kind of like those characters in horror films because they ignore all these warning signs, but—well, actually, it’s exactly like that,” said Green, laughing nervously. Bert Kingsley, a legal expert from UCLA’s Housing Department, said that as long as the elevators are scheduled to be inspected eventually, continuing to operate them is perfectly legal. “Are they legal? Yes. Are they lethal? Who knows,” Kingsley said. For Jason Dinapoli, a second-year economics student, using the elevators reminds him of how his Italian ancestors lived for hundreds of years at the foot of Mount Vesuvius. “Like living near a deadly volcano, you can’t take life for granted when you use these elevators,” Dinapoli said, adding that he truly appreciates even the smallest, most mundane parts of his life now. “In its own haunting way, even the organ music is beautiful,” he said. t

Dali Lama by ellie Martino

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Satyr Magazine 405 Hilgard Ave, near future Los Angeles, CA 90024 Dear future Satyr editors, I’m writing this letter to you as a current editor of Satyr Magazine, but, more importantly, as a concerned future alumna. By this point in the future I am no longer on the Satyr staff; however, I feel the need to impart my wisdom unto your sophomoric minds in order to fulfill what I can only assume is my future position on your staff: canonized role model. First and foremost, congratulations on ruling Satyr! Editor is a really coveted and exclusive position, especially with all the prestige (not to be confused with the vodka brand, but we’ll get to that later) that is associated with Satyr by now. When people first find out that you run a comedy magazine, you are instantly expected to give them an impromptu five-minute set of stand-up comedy. As such, make sure you always have jokes in your back pocket, because if you don’t, that means you have no sense of humor. Comedians are the happiest people on Earth, and you must constantly be trying to prove that, despite the dark reality… Furthermore, you’re welcome for setting up the website. It was during my generation of Satyrites that we introduced the Internet to our publication. It really made 2014 revolutionary for us. In fact, since paper is probably obsolete by now, you are most likely reading this off of your Google-integrated contact lenses. Also, you should really figure out why the randomized ads on our website are almost exclusively Asian dating ads. I guarantee there aren’t really local Asian singles waiting for you. Unfortunately, some of our staff members had to find that out the hard way, and we ended up losing a good amount of money trying to recover two members who were shanghaied. Getting back to the aforementioned Prestige (the vodka this time), I’m going to leave you with this piece of advice: Don’t underestimate the ability of your fundraising party to be double-booked with a gourmet potluck scheduled from 10 pm to 2 am, resulting in your having to use vodka in order to coax over a hundred strange people into a tight space that may or may not be someone’s living room. You will regret it. You will make some legally questionable decisions. You will lose your ability to run for Congress in the future. Finally, don’t stress yourself out too much. Use the mandatory membership dues that you collected at the beginning of the quarter to treat yourself to a spa day. Then, get angry with the staff when you have “insufficient funds” to print, and charge them a penalty fee. Use this money to purchase a burrito. I think I’ve pretty much touched on the most important aspects of running Satyr. It’s hard to know exactly where I’ll be when you’re reading this (probably really invested into my entertainment career), but if you have any further questions, I assume the best way to reach me will be through my future office assistant: sachin_medhekar@yahoo.com. Best of luck, Aliya Kamalova

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

November 30, 2013: I was fortunate enough to be going through Topeka, Kansas last December, and I was able to sit in on a “Pitch Meeting” with members of the Westboro Baptist Church. It’s not what you’d expect... My second cousin’s mother’s brother, Larry Phelps, used to date my second cousin’s mother’s sister, Beth Phelps, before they became man and wife. So, after driving from Chicago all night through the bleak states of Illinois and Missouri, I needed a place to sleep. I was fortunate enough to stop in the paradise that is Topeka, Kansas. My mother called Larry, whom she had gone to high school with in Topeka, and he and his wife let me stay in their house. They asked me who I was and where I was going and if I was a homosexual or cowardly defended this country via the military, and if I wanted some milk and cookies, and if I wanted to come to their church’s meeting that night. I said, respectively: Joe, Los Angeles, no, no, of course, and yes. When I came through the doors of the (surprisingly) pristine church, I joked with the congregation that I was a “writer/producer/singer/actress/dreamer in LA,” which got a good laugh, and the members of the WBC invited me to one of their “Pitch Meetings”. I had the opportunity to record the dialogue from the meeting. IN ATTENDANCE Robert Phelps Timothy Phelps Fred Phelps Jr. Fred “Return of the Phelps” Phelps III Tommy Phelps Billy Phelps Bruce Phelps Sharon Phelps

Marion Phelps There was excitement in the fart-encrusted air that night, as Paul Walker had died the day before in a car accident, and the Westboro Baptist Church members felt like this was their moment to make a comeback. December 1, 2013 BILLY: We have a lot to cover tonight. First, we need to have a very brief moment of silence for our fallen Westboro member, Jerry Phelps, who passed away Friday morning. (a very brief moment of silence) TIMOTHY: Tom farted. TOMMY: Shut up, idiot. BILLY: Guys. Okay, Jerry’s memorial is tomorrow, and to celebrate his life we’re going to…picket his funeral. We can’t show that we discriminate. And it’d be nice if everyone could make some signs. For example, I have “Jerry Loves Fags” and “God Hates Jerry”. So something like those, but not those, because I’m doing those. Next item: Paul Walker’s funeral is on Wednesday in Los Angeles and I think we should picket that funeral. TOMMY: What the hell do you know about Heaven? I heard you listening to “Pick me up before you Go-Go” the other day. TIMOTHY: It’s “Wake me up”! And that was research— we all know George Michael will be dying sooner than later, and we need to be at that funeral. BILLY: That is exactly the type of short-sighted thinking we need to avoid!

TIMOTHY: What?

TOMMY: (mocking) Yeah, it’s like a play on the Jews.

BILLY: You want to protest another gay man’s funeral?

FRED III: “Number three—”

TIMOTHY: I thought that was God’s work…

BILLY: What about number two?

BILLY: No! No. (sighs) God’s work is maximizing publicity, you stupid fuck.

FRED III: Uh—oh, yeah, I guess it’s “Eight Reasons Why”.

TIMOTHY: But I still don’t see why we’d protest Paul Walker’s funeral. I thought Fast Five was pretty good.

BILLY: Okay, we’ll get to the other seven later. Thank you FP3.

(uproar/disgruntled murmurs from other members)

TOMMY: Did anyone else watch the screener of Her yet?

TIMOTHY: What?!

BILLY: Fag stuff. It was great, but still…God Hates OSs.

BILLY: Of course, you dick-butt! Fast Five was incredible! (looks at ceiling) Jesus, God, he just don’t get it— maybe inbreeding does cause….slow…whatever. (looks at TOMMY) Tommy, we need new, exciting ideas. “God Hates Fags” t-shirt sales are in the shitter! We even had to work with Urban Outfitters to make a knockoff “God Hates Figs” shirt just to refuel the jet. TIMOTHY: Okay, I get it. No more protests of hate crime victims.

TOMMY: Is that— BILLY: Yeah, that’s in the Bible. SHARON: Did the Oscars send comps? BILLY: Nope. So we’re going to protest them. Let’s hear some more pitches. Our Yelp rating is way down, and we need to come up with something new—no clichés, and nothing generic. Let’s think outside the box.

BILLY: We can throw one in here or there for fun, but this is business.

TIMOTHY: That’s a cliché.

SHARON: What about the Jews?

MARION: I have an idea for a sign.

BILLY: Forget about the fuckin’ Jews! That’s decades late! Okay, let’s hear some ideas—who’s got pitches?

TIMOTHY: (groaning) Ah, your signs are always awful!

FRED III: I have a list.

FRED JR: Tim, why don’t you keep your sass mouth to yourself and your own damn sister, you awful son of a fag.

BILLY: Good! The youngest amongst us! Timothy 4:12!

TIMOTHY: Good one.

TIMOTHY: Huh? BILLY: No, you idiot—from the Bible, Timothy 4:12: “Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, conduct, love, faith, and purity.” Get your head out of your butt. Freddy? FRED III: (reading from Samsung Galaxy) “Nine Reasons Why Homosexuals Aren’t Cool”.

MARION: Okay—my sign is: “FAGS… ARE…GAY.” (pause) BILLY: ...That’s it? MARION: I think that says everything. TIMOTHY: It says nothing.

TOMMY: Good title.

FRED JR: Don’t talk to my wife like that!

FRED III: “Number one: Fags destroy the world because they control an inordinate amount of the world’s gayness.”

BILLY: Fred, let’s just try to keep our heads here. (turns towards MARION) It’s not easy to say this, and I’ll be as gentle as possible, but that is literally the worst thing that anyone has ever been pitched in any meeting, ever.

BILLY: (laughs) I like what you did there. TIMOTHY: Yeah, it’s like a play on the Jews.

FRED JR: I think the sign makes a good point, and I’d be happy to work on it with you, honey.

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MARION: Fuck you, Fred.

BILLY: And?

BILLY: Moving on. Bill Maher wants to have a member of Westboro on his show to kind of make fun of.

MARION: Absolutely not interested in working with us in any capacity.

TOMMY: He’s a good guy. And funny.

BILLY: Okay—try Taco Bell and KFC and IHOP, I guess. And everyone, stay on these businesses! Literally no one has ever bought an ad from us ever except for SexyAsianSingles.com™, but we have to keep trying. (hesitating) Sometimes…sometimes, I question whether what we’re doing…is…is cost feasible…

BILLY: Yeah, he’s great. He said it’s the usual shtick— we just need to go on and say, “Soldiers and fags are going to burn in hell,” and the crowd will be like, “Boooooo”, and then we’ll say, “Everyone in the audience will be going to hell,” etc. He’ll make some joke about inbreeding, and it’ll get retweeted and reposted a few hundred thousand times, and hopefully—fingers crossed—make it to the front page of Yahoo! News. We need the traffic to our website for the ads, by the way.

SHARON: I think we should talk about the Jews! BILLY: (ignores) Anything else before we go-go? I mean, go.

ROBERT: I thought of some merch ideas.

(pause)

BILLY: Let’s hear it.

BRUCE: I’m gay.

ROBERT: Okay—Westboro Baptist Church temporary tattoos.

END OF MEETING

(uncomfortably long silence) BILLY: Okay…

Murmurs overheard before the meeting:

ROBERT: I thought we could do a Kickstarter to raise money to make a short film where a soldier finds out he’s gay, kills himself, and then goes to Hell. BILLY: Sounds...promising.

PHELPS 1: I just think it’s a great show.

ROBERT: And God Hates Fags condoms.

PHELPS 1:I just don’t see anything gay about it.

BILLY: Interesting. For straight people?

PHELPS 2: What do you mean?

ROBERT: Straight, white, God-fearing, non-military, married people condoms—extra small. I certainly need them with the way Marion and I go at it in a sexual way.

PHELPS 1:Well, is Will gay on that show?

(MARION looks uncomfortable.)

PHELPS 1: And what about Jack?

BILLY: You dog, you. That sounds promising. Now, after the Bill Maher interview, we’re going to want to have ads ready for the site. I can’t stress that enough.

PHELPS 2: Yeah, he’s definitely gay.

ROBERT: Jergens?

PHELPS 2: Yes, Grace is extremely gay.

BILLY: What’s that in reference to, Robbie?

PHELPS 1:What about Full House?

ROBERT: I just said the first thing that—

PHELPS 2: That’s set in San Francisco.

BILLY: That’s what we’re trying to avoid—just blurting shit out. That really keeps us at a stasis in the hate organizations. We’re a non-violent, sharp-witted, sign-hoisting hate group. Let’s start acting like it.

PHELPS 1: Oh yeah…

MARION: I talked to Becky from Waffle House.

PHELPS 2: I’m not saying it’s not a great show. But it’s Hell-bait, man.

PHELPS 2:I’m almost sure he is.

PHELPS 1: And Grace.

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

s d i K r o f s m e Po One night, cozy in his bed, there laid a boy named Tommy. He, intently, took the time to listen to his mommy. As she answered what he asked, his sheets she gave a tucking, Then said, “Babies come from mistakes, alcohol, and fucking.”

As Johnny turned red, he stared to sob, He didn’t get what he had wanted! His dad held him close: “I circumcised you, Don’t think I won’t finish the job.”

There once was a young boy named Billy, Whom everyone knew was quite silly. He was caught by a villain, Whose motive was killin’, And torture made him beg, “Please kill me!”

Candy from strangers is always the best. It’s never just average, it’s cut above the rest! And if the church taught us anything about treats, It’s that the forbidden fruit’s always the most sweet.

s! d r o W n e d d i H e h t Find BUNNY FLOWER KITTEN RAINBOW SUNSHINE HOPE

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Susie’s Delight

The candy Susie had ran out, and so she wanted more. She searched her house and opened drawers—she really hoped to score! And then she found, to her delight, not candy, no, but more: Some red pills, green pills, blue pills, white pills, purple pills galore! With glee, she swallowed handfuls, then she walked right out the door, But nothing had prepared our Susie for what was in store. She vomited her blood, saliva, dignity, and gore, And, sadly, died quite violently as she dropped to the floor. And suddenly, into the room, through Susie’s parents tore, And gazed in absolute confusion at what the sight bore. And seeing little Susie, dead, her parents screamed a roar, For both knew that the cleanup would, no doubt, become a chore! The father, angry, pushed his wife and said she was a whore, Then handed her a mop to clean, “‘Cause that’s what bitches are for.”

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Hidden Pictures! Hell by Irvin Alger

In the big picture, find these objects:

An Ode to a Comedy Magazine By Utkarsh Pandey Yet lack there was of dirtiness, A dearth of smut, until The gallant Watts did label it, “A hole that he could fill”.

There was a vision unachieved, In Westwood till that day, No man had ever laughed a jot, No chuckles on display.

Lest they be called chauvinists, (Women are always wrong), Their action was affirmative, To let in Mrs. Huang.

The baker’s dozen made a vow, To promptly rectify, The lack of mirth, by making fun of Christians and Sig Pi.

But in the haste of hiring staff, They needed help with money, They hired the first Kazakh they saw, (Though she wasn’t very funny.)

And bagging on these many things, Both meritful and Greek, They carved a niche for comedy, To form the Satyr clique.

The jewel in the Satyr crown, However, was amiss, Until they met the subject of, Good humour’s fateful kiss.

For clique they were, a solid bunch, Tenacious and attractive, Yet, sadly none of them, But one was sexually active.

A knight was he in spectacles, With black curls flowing down, The legend goes, he was the most Delightful shade of brown.

They started off a cowardly crowd, A trio of despair, But one by one their harem grew, And lent them all a pair.

Paragons and creeps alike, They rode off into fame, They proudly took a solemn oath to, Wear the Satyr name.

Limpdick, Sauce and Gallows-man, Were right-hand-manned by Windy To his dismay, he found the staff Were not so hella indie.

They took the town by storm, and knew, that it was meant to be, Their name lived on, and as they say, The rest is history.

They picked a waif up off the road To fill the role of model No craigslist joke or Wendy’s girl, Henceforth escaped Sir Caudill.

There’s hardly more obtuse a thing, That I can contemplate, Than 12 brave souls in love and wit, To slowly congregate.

To be continued...

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Friends, We can all agree that UCLA ranks highly among the best universities in the world. We have some of the most prolific researchers in the nation, working day and night, progressing the knowledge of humanity. Many of these researchers have even managed to dedicate a small percentage of their time to our official charity: teaching the undergraduate population. We have just enough African-Americans to keep us number one in NCAA titles and keep our brochures looking colorful, and we have, in my humble opinion, one of the best god-damned Chancellors I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. But, as is the case with any university, UCLA also has its share of problems, one of which has grown so much in recent years that this office must address it: license plate frames. I’m sure it comes as no shock to most of you, but UCLA is facing an extreme image problem, and I’m sure you all will immediately relate to what I’m saying. I can’t drive even ten minutes from my mansion without seeing some beat up Corolla or some god-damned hand-me-down Pontiac sporting a UCLA frame. It’s disgraceful. This problem is something we must all combat together, and I’ll have you know I do my part—both of my Ferraris and each of my Teslas have a UCLA license plate lovingly adorned on both sides. And now it’s time for you to help. It is my decision, and therefore the official opinion of this university, that UCLA license plate frames shall now and forever be allowed only on cars worth $30,000 and higher. This number may seem extreme, seeing as it wouldn’t prevent people with certain Priuses (Prii?) to have the licenses. Unfortunately, we can’t exclude all minorities. For those of you concerned that you won’t make this cut, don’t worry. You go to UCLA, a school with over 30,000 undergraduates; most of you won’t be successful, and it’s not your fault. Hell, we offer majors like Native American Studies. What did you think? That getting a “degree” would help you get a job? Of course it won’t. Should UCLA’s reputation be tarnished for this? I don’t think so. And neither should you. Sincerely, Gene D. Block Chancellor

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

It’s Friday night, and you just sat down to read the latest issue of Satyr when you suddenly remember that today is the four-month anniversary of your relationship.

And let’s say that maybe—just maybe—they aren’t taking reservations at Yamato. Or perhaps The Lego Movie is sold out. Or, perchance, creationism was recently proven true, and the star-show at Boelter is closed for appropriate updates. You might think to yourself, “Well, shucks. I’m certainly in a pickle.” First of all, get rid of the weird internal monologue. You are free to cuss in your own consciousness, freak. Second, please consider the following: This is my plan for the perfect date. It’s cheap, easy, and most likely won’t get you dumped for suggesting it. STUFF YOU NEED • • • • •

Cheetos. I prefer the Flamin’ Hot ones. You could get one of the other flavors, but that would be dumb. Quilt. Get out your cheapest one. Cheetos dust is hard to wash out. TV with good DVDs. It’s Friday, and nothing good is on TV. Lord of the Rings is pretty good, I hear. Access to a dryer. If you don’t have this, I suggest attending a four-year university as an engineering major and getting a job at a tech company. Save up for a decade, then purchase a home that includes a dryer. There’s a chance you may end up married before you get the home though, in which case, congratulations! Scented candle. Because romance.

WHAT YOU DO 1. Light the scented candle a few hours before, so your entire room/house/dorm smells like Thanksgiving dinner. 2. Wash your quilt. I don’t know what kind of stuff you’ve been doing with it, but it is gross. 3. Put the quilt into the dryer. Make sure the dryer is on HEAT. Honestly, I’m not even sure why there is an option for no heat. Like, what? 4. Get significant other, and ask them to lay on the couch. If you are in the part of your relationship where you trust each other (2-3 years or so), ask them to close their eyes. 5. Bring in the heated quilt, and throw it on them. People might appreciate fancy desserts or walks in the park, but nothing compares to being covered in a heated quilt. It’s like being hugged by hugs.

6. Get in there with them. Seriously, how great is that heated quilt? 7. Turn on the DVD in the background. You probably won’t be paying attention to this because you are too busy being madly in love, but it helps with the mood. 8. Here’s the tricky part. Arrange yourselves on the couch such that one person’s head is on each of the armrests. Your legs will be touching; feel free to do gross things. 9. Get the Cheetos. 10. Open your mouths and take turns trying to throw the Cheetos into each other’s mouths without moving your head from the headrest. It’s like Battleships, but with Cheetos and love. 11.Play for two hours, then go make love in the shower or something. t

BETWEEN THE SHEETS

Sachin’s Musings People always tell me I’m forgetful but I’ve never noticed it.

3 Sentences That are Very Different Without the Word “The” 1. Your poem is the shit. 2. I’m a therapist! 3. My favorite word is whatever word is second in the following list: “the, kitten, infanticide”

I had a falling out with my sky diving instructor. People always tell me I’m forgetful but I’ve never noticed it. I have an irrational fear of pi. “I have a burning desire” Pyromaniac

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Get Involved Want to write for Satyr? thesatyrmag.com/join Interested in our unique email signature? satyrmagazine@gmail.com Want to write for Satyr without the commitment? satyrcontributions@gmail.com Wish you had friends? “Like” us at facebook.com/satyrmagazine Short attention span? “Follow” us @satyrmag

Published with support from Generation Progress / Center for American Progress (online at genprogress.org).

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014

Satyr Magazine

Classified Winter Issue 2014

Help Wanted MAN SEEKING DOCTOR -- No easy

way to say this. Dildo-shaped turkey baster rammed up past my anal sphincter. Haven’t been able to poop in 3 days. Not gay. (612) 244-7562

MAN SEEKING SHOVEL, ROPE, AND EMPTY FIELD -- Shitty dead cat

needed to be tied and buried. Starting to freak my mom out, cuz cat has been sitting in our living room, curled up on her old laptop, just like she used to do. Too many flies now. On an unrelated note, if anyone has a mu muffler for a gun and/or a muffler for a human, that would be extremely useful. haroldmatthers@yoohoo.com

TECH ASSISTANCE NEEDED -- KEYBOARD STUCK IN CAPS LOCK. PLEASE HELP. MARGELESTER@WEBMAIL.COM NEED TO GET RID OF DOG BODY -Accidentally killed my girlfriend’s dog. Black lab. 250lbs. Let me know if you can help. Will be paid in pizza. jackmaryland@yoohoo.com

LOST DOG -- My dog, Lucky, went miss-

ing one week ago. Black lab. Responds to Lucky. If you have any info please contact sarahmontgomery@yoohoo.com

Housing ROOMMATE WANTED -- Have one bedroom available. Must be musically inclined and ok with me practicing my drums unlike my stuck up (ex) roommate Kevin. Email thrasherrock8@soulmusic.net LOOKING FOR SPACE-- to take up in classiﬁeds section. Ask for Marcia.

SEEKING ROOMMATE -- Just left pre-

vious place because “musician” roommate constantly played the drums with his dick in the living room. Even when guests present. Any place will do. Really. knealon@jmail.com

Sponsors of Comedy

WORDS OF WISDOM -- It may take two to tango, but it only takes one to bellydance. Camila Paez

NOTE ON MARCIE -- Marcie is great! Kazumi

Nozawa

FOLLOW ME -- Only Neanderthals resort to vio-

lence. I prefer crushing one’s spirit, hope, or ego. -@GSElevator

SONG STUCK IN HEAD -- “...What rhymes with hug me?... Hey hey hey.” Krystal M.

FELLOW PRINT MAGAZINE -- Selling personal ads in your magazine? Co-Op Party? Y'all broke! FEM News Magazine

LIFE STANDARD -- Twenty lovers, no commit-

ments. Camila Paez

NEED A GOOD FRIEND? -- Call BRIAN @ (660) 238-3604 This is not about anything sexual. Tells great stories, listens to yours. He will not buy you drinks/drugs. Repeat: This is NOT about anything sexual.

CUNNING WHITE MAN -- “I love Young Dong” -Anthony Lawrence Quan

Personal SEEKING NICE GIRL FOR SON’S PROM

-- My son, Jonathan needs a date to prom. He is very handsome and smart. If interested please email lyndamcarthy@hotmail.net.

MILLIONAIRE SEEKING TO PURCHASE LOVE -- I am willing to offer any price, so long as

Personal

WEAPONS -- Seeking to purchase illegal

weapons on the Black Market. Must show proof of purchase. Bring as many weapons you have. Please forward contact info of other buyers for references. Email: ih8cops@fbi.gov

SWAG BRo BLAZEI T #420 WANTS SOME FUCKIN WEED -- Yo homey! Just

lookin for some of dat dank ass weed, u feel me? HAha don’t tell the fucking cops tho, they gay. Text me at 911-911-9111

LOVE & HAPPINESS IS -- The Hardest

Goodbye! Jasmine saying good bye was the hardest and most heartbreaking experience of my life. Im sorry it took so long for me to wake up. i want u & the world to know that i Bob Schrodinger loves Jasmine R.D.

MAN SEEKING RELIEF FROM DISSOCIATIVE FUGUE -- I’m so confused right

now. I think I want to fuck my brother. What are we? Where are we going? Please email me at: standersonjonesenson@standersonjoneson.net

For Sale

TANGERINES FOR SALE -- Previously located in a college dorm’s mini fridge. Sat in fridge for upwards of 2 months. May contain mold. Willing to give away for free so long as someone just takes away the smell, God, the pungent scent of rotten fruit is inescapable. stefanss7d34@comcass.org

MAN SEEKING GOAT -- I can’t control my

urges any longer. Need a goat for certain activities. Must be open to new things. franklinwards2@hawtmail.com

JASMINE REALDOLL FOR SALE -Humanoid mannequin mannequin, complete with large breasts, large buttocks, and, most importantly, a large heart. She likes making s’mores, Mumford and Sons, and BDSM. My wife is forcing me to sell her. May smell of chlorine. bschrodinger@hmail.com

FAKE PROM DATE- I need someone to pre-

NEED A GOAT? --

both my heart and my penis swell upon our ﬁrst encounter. bwarren@email.com

tend to be my date for prom. Mom’s on my case about it. Just needs to be present during photos. jonmcarthy223@hotmail.net

My prize winning Goat has been under a lot of stress lately. He needs to get laid. Condoms not provided. Sandersfarms@webnet.net

“Come on Frank, we’ve nearly caught him!”

“Oh dear God, please help me.”

THESATYRMAG.COM WINTER 2014