Illinois - Issue 6 - 2/21/2013 by The Black Sheep

The Black Sheep

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Volume 22, Issue 6 • 2/20/13 - 2/27/13

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100,000 Students Projected to Die on Unofficial 2013, CPD Reports benny boy wrote this “The end times cometh.” These words, written in what appeared to be blood, were discovered strewn across the side of the UIUC Police Training Institute building early last week. Although the blood has since turned out to be strawberry jelly, the ominous message has cast a dark cloud over campus. “The hour of our reckoning is nigh.” This phrase, with a similarly ominous tone, has since appeared on the front page of the Champaign Police Department’s website. Aligned next to the message is a countdown clock with 14 days remaining as of Friday, February 15. Students, faculty and the few residents of Champaign who own computers bombarded the website with questions about what these ominous phrases were meant to convey. Was there a plague coming? Was this some kind of marketing strategy for the upcoming Champaign Police auction? Was the Taste of Champaign going to come early this year? With all of this end-of-the-world-esque talk, residents of Central Illinois knew that something big was about to occur. After days of speculation, Chief of Police Anthony Cobb held a press conference to address what the source of these warnings was about. When the press began to arrive they noticed that the room had been decorated with cheap Halloween decorations, complete with fake spider webs and a fog machine. The song, “Waiting for the End of the World” by Elvis Costello played on repeat. Cobb, dressed as the Grim Reaper, could be seen standing in the corner of the stage attempting to stand perfectly still, failing due to repeated sneezes and muffled giggles. After a few runs of the late seventies pop-punk classic, Cobb leapt forward and yelled in an attempt to startle the audience. When Cobb realized that no one even flinched, he left the stage and returned 30 seconds later with the makeup halfway smeared off his face.

are starting to make us nervous.” “Oh, don’t give me that bull-hockey!” Cobb yelled out. “You know exactly what is happening next Friday. And you guys are all just so excited about it, aren’t you?” “Wait, are you talking about Unofficial?” a different voice yelled out.

“Alright folks, what is it that you want? Can’t you tell that the CPD is pretty busy these days?” Cobb began as more smoke from the fog machine filled the room.

“Yes! Yes, of course I’m talking about Unofficial!”

“We just want to know what is going to happen next Friday!” a voice called out from the crowd. “All of these warnings of doom

“What do you mean ‘why?’? Do you know how many people are going to die on Unofficial if we don’t crack down?”

Soon to Be Enacted Unofficial Laws

“Why?”

what'’s inside

“How many?” “A lot. A whole lot. So many you wouldn’t even believe. I would estimate something like, one...” Cobb looked up as he thought to himself, “...hundred...” he again looked up as he searched his mind, “...thousand. Yes, One hundred thousand students! That’s a whole lot of students, isn’t it?” A murmur went through the crowd as the people in attendance began to question whether what Cobb said was true or not. Surely 100,000 students could not die on Unofficial. However, Cobb was right when he said that that was a whole lot of students. Was this a risk that the people of Champaign were willing to take?

continued on page 19

The Top 10: Things to Carry With You on Unofficial

The Blackout and the Beautiful: Part 3

If you thought cops were strict now, just wait.

Just remember to not carry around any open alcohol.

What are Jerry's thoughts on meeting his girlfriend's mom?

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contents

Questions? Comments? Compliments? Insults? info@theblacksheeponline.com

page 6: Iron Laden to Kitty Maidens: Monopoly's Strives for Gender Equality

page 6

A new Monopoly game piece means steps in the right direction for women.

page 8: Popping My Porn Cherry One of our writers violates her virgin eyes and is never going back.

page 9: International Students' First Unofficial Feng and Ding attempt to save the poor students of campus.

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page 10: University of Dublin to Start First Ever Unofficial American Independence Day

Table of

U of I reps fear for decreasing enrollment due to competition.

page 16: Bartenders of the Week: Ashley and Nick Both seem to be huge fans of tequila.

page 17: Booze of the Week: Chila 'Orchata Cinnamon Cream Rum The little brother of attention-whore RumChata.

page 18: from the streets What do you think about the Pope resigning?

page 22: The seek-and-find are you talented enough to find the missing items?

Meet The Staff Managing Editor Mike Benson copy Editor Katelyn Lilly Advertising Manager Jackie Breen distribution Managers Patrick Rafferty & Mitch Heiar Contributing Writers Kevin Hanes, Rebecca Jacobs Morgan Foster, Molly Forrest Ashley Perl, Max Russell John McCombs, Ryan Rudolf Austin Gomez, Scott Gantner, Sam Caravette, Kimberly Gleeson

page 17 Find Us At...

pr manageRs Abbie Welsch | Chloe Miseck Colin Lateano photographer Graca Haka campus director Brendan Bonham owner Atish Doshi Founders Atish Doshi & Derek Chin Questions? info@theblacksheeponline.com Advertising? ads@theblacksheeponline.com 217-390-1747

Disclaimer The Black Sheep in no way promotes, encourages or supports binge drinking, and/or under-age drinking. This newspaper is designed for entertainment purposes only and does not recommend attempting anything printed in this publication. Please drink...responsibly and legally.

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Pic

of the

Week!

Dear Michael, I received an email the other day which warned about the dangers of Unofficial on March 1. I don’t want you to do anything bad on that day. You are only a 20-year-old boy. P.S. I sent you some more allergy medicine because this spring is supposed to be high in pollen. I also threw in some candy for you! Mom Dear Mom, Oh my god, why do you insist on embarrassing me in front of everyone? Do you know how many people read this paper? I’ve told you a thousand times before, I’m a grown man now! I can make my own decisions! I do my own grocery shopping, and I do my own laundry. So back off! I don’t care if I got scurvy last year because I only ate Doritos and oatmeal creme pies, you need to give me some space for once! And do you want to know something else? I haven’t even been taking my allergy medicine! That’s right, I just leave it in the packaging because I am a grown-up, and I don’t have to take them if I don’t want to. And another thing, what is all this bulls***t about loading up my care package with Milky Ways? How many times do I have to tell you that Snickers are the way to go? It’s like you weren’t even born this century. As for Unofficial, there is no doubt that I will be going out and getting wild! My friend Rick said that his older brother was gonna buy us some beers, and you can be sure that we will be drinking them all day! Slayer RULES!!!! Flynn (I want you to call me Flynn now)

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SEX HUT IRON JUT last week’s answers

Malin Akerman & John Legend

word of the week Egocentrick:

A delusional personality trait in which a loathed person perceives themselves as popular. “When Kaylee invited herself to Jason’s party after he called her a bloated sea whore, we knew she was egocentrick.”

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Soon to be Enacted Unofficial Laws

mad max wrote this

In the past few years, citations during Unofficial have steadily increased in severity. The ticketing force on campus, who spend their free time beating off to The Untouchables, is a hard force to beat. Even situations that can easily be resolved with an officer saying “move along” typically escalate to a few hundred dollars in fines that could have gone to rounds of shots that would totally have gotten the attention of some girls. What’s worse is that if caught during a blackout, students can’t even provide their own alibi, and charges can be piled on without mercy. A document that can be found on WikiLeaks suggests that these laws are simply a warm up to an unholy plan that hopes to one day kill off Unofficial altogether. While they will never beat the resilience of those dedicated to the sport of all-day drinking, these new, dare we say fascist, policies will move the holiday of times forgotten to the underground. While the bars normally allow nineteen and twenty-year-olds access so they can drink their wide variety of soda products, on the drinking day of all drinking days they prohibit under-agers from even standing within their walls. While the upper class has a hard time seeing and understanding the underclassmen due to their short nature and inaudible babbling about what dorm they live in, occasionally a soul with a golden heart will take time out of their day (and money out of a desperate underage wallet) to buy them booze. Unfortunately, in the coming years, they will progressively ban interactions with the underage. By 2015, so much as talking to someone under the drinking age will end with a night in prison since the police will assume they must have been talking about the unlawful sale of alcohol to minors. Eye contact is still being furiously debated. A noise complaint is the surest way for an officer to find his way into a party. If caught by surprise, it will be pretty hard to explain the passed-out masses on your couches. While today’s officers are limited to a third party calling in the original noise complaint before they can enter, this will not be so for the police of tomorrow and their cyborg partners. Any noise they hear when pressing an ear against the door will cause a citation for anyone who was within earshot. Expect them to enter even faster if they hear the slightest sounds of laughter and happiness.

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Even so much as wearing green can prompt a citation. The original reason students began to wear green was to identify other drinkers, but this simply became redundant when everyone outside of campus buildings was fairly inebriated early in the day. Still, students keep wearing green outfits as a signal to all that they are about to get fucked up. Only one-eighth of the people are wearing it in honor of their Irish heritage. Sadly the police have finally caught on to this scheme and will be breathalyzing anyone wearing the color of the leprechaun. It’s only a matter of time before they start outlawing silly hats and fratty topsiders. Being caught with alcohol will be a nightmare. By now, even the seniors are barely aware of a vague myth taking place in an ancient time when students could freely walk around with a brown paper bag and whatever their liver desired inside. Still, brave souls risk it year-to-year as they lug half ripped open cases of Keystone around to multiple parties. If the police see someone with more than two beers, they will assume the rest is going to be drunk at a party full of underagers. It doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t have to. They are the law, and your ass is theirs if they catch you. Run, for the love of whatever deity you believe in, run, and don’t get caught. The upcoming punishment will be death for so much as possibly allowing an eighteen-year-old to hold the cheap run off of Coors Light. They have no faith that an eighteen-year-old can even hold a beer. It’s not like they give them a gun and train them to kill people at this age.

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Iron Laden to Kitty Maidens:

Monopoly’s Strives for Gender Equality

Sammie Sea wrote this Think back to your childhood game cabinet. Among the dried clumps of Play-Doh and dust bunnies lies the longest and most frustrating game in history: Monopoly. Not only does the game force the ideas of big business and outrageous taxation onto children, but you can never finish the damn thing! It’s doubtful that anyone has ever truly won this game. And even if they did, they were probably the banker, and should go to jail for embezzlement of funds. This begs the question, who the hell is still buying this game? At this point, everyone pretty much has an old board lying around their parents' house. Re-circulate those suckers if you want to have a shitty game night. Hasbro still sees profit in Monopoly, which is shocking in itself. But the fact that they're trying to revamp the game is just unnecessary. Recently, Hasbro held a poll on their Facebook (they have a Facebook?) asking people to vote on their least favorite Monopoly game piece. Among the options were the wheelbarrow, the boot and the iron—the true bitch pieces. Evidently, the iron was voted the least favorite by voters and got the boot, no pun intended. But what's even greater about the retirement of the iron is the introduction of the new piece, the cat. That's right, a cat. You know what that means? There has been a breakthrough in the feminist movement! Gone are the days of women begrudgingly being forced to play as the iron while their husbands dominate with the clearly superior piece, the racecar. Because really, whether it be for practical use or play, no man ever used the iron without suffering a severe blow to his masculinity. But that's all changed now. Women have successfully made the transition in the game world from dowdy housekeeper to single cat lady! There’s still the thimble that mildly represents the Betsy Ross sewing fanatic in all women, but let’s take this one step at a time here. The cat bears the same stigma as the iron. It's a woman's piece. So maybe the equality of the pieces hasn't evened out but hey, at least we're out of the kitchen, right? Along with the inherent characteristics

that come with being a feminist, such as the unshaven legs, bra-less chest and anger towards any gender roles that resemble “tradition,” also comes the harsh reality that you're most likely going to end up alone, taking comfort in your hourly meditations with your three cats. Unfortunately for women, we only have two options in life: devoted wife or single cat lady. Men can get away with being an eternal bachelor, but an eternal bachelorette? Your looks will only get you so far, ladies. But we say embrace it and relish in the triumph of another feminist piece inducted into the game of Monopoly. Apparently, as fate would have it, there seems to be a dispute about the legitimacy of the cat’s victory. There was a subsequent poll, after the poll to retire the iron, that had people vote on the new piece to be added to the game. Among the choices was a robot, a diamond ring, a helicopter, a guitar and of course, our beloved kitty cat. Many voters believe that the voting was rigged as the robot had a clear lead throughout the entire process. In all honesty, the robot seems to be the obvious choice among the five, but somehow the sly feline seemed to coax its way onto the roster. However it happened, Hasbro seems to be giving Monopoly a couple of facelifts to keep it relevant. Will there be a recount to determine the true victor of this polling? Who knows? Better yet, who really cares? Until someone makes up a Monopoly drinking game that utilizes that weird thimble piece as a shot glass, we're not buying it.

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The Black Sheep Reports

from St. Louis Mardi Gras 2013

scotty g. wrote this

Last Saturday, February 9, was Mardi Gras. I took it upon myself to go participate in the tradition and report back with knowledge and cultural learnings from these festivities. So I hitched a ride to St. Louis, or as it’s also known, the city of Not-Quite Chicago. Mardi Gras in St. Louis? I know, it’s weird. Until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know that any city besides New Orleans actually had a Mardi Gras celebration. It turns out that St. Louis has the second biggest Mardi party in America. Not only did I have a good ol’ drunken time with great friends, I learned a lot of things as well. Authorities in St. Louis don’t give a damn: Whatever shenanigans you and your friends are up to, don’t expect the cops to care. You see, the city police have to deal with East St. Louis, where real crimes happen. Street parties in regular St. Louis are child’s play. I saw a man vomit a belly full of whiskey at 11 a.m. right before boarding the train. You know who else saw that? Four uniformed security guards and police officers. How did they respond? They stood completely still, three of them rolled their eyes and one of them chuckled. They seemed to only be concerned with major crimes like murder and rape, not alcohol-fueled foolishness. On a similar note, beer vendors on the street were only semi-interested in checking for IDs. As a recently turned 21-year-old, I was eager to show off my legality at every opportunity. I assumed my ID would be inspected, held under a blacklight, and run through a facial recognition computer program. Instead, IDs were put under a level of scrutiny that I can only compare to the manner in which I read the legal statement before clicking “I agree” for the updated version of iTunes. I got the general impression that if I presented them with a Subway gift card, they would’ve served me and said, “Thanks for your business, Mr. Eat Fresh.” Urination is the #1 focus of Mardi Gras: All day long there are thousands of people roaming around the streets, drinking 32 oz. beers. That means that thousands of people need to use the bathroom at every

waking moment. There are lots of porta-potties, but you’ll quickly learn that it’s not enough. Lines can last for as long as 30-45 minutes, at which point people start screaming and resorting to desperate measures like self-urination, which is like, totally uncool. One technique I saw (and may or may not have participated in) was the Double Down. To properly execute the Double Down, you’ll need a partner who’s skinny and comfortable with his sexuality. When the portapotty is open, two guys go in at the same time, and one of them uses the toilet while the other uses the side urinal simultaneously. A smart Mardi man finds a way to publicly urinate without getting ticketed (Side note 1: Cops do care about public urination). We were lucky enough to find a dumpster to pee behind that was conveniently out of view (Side note 2: The second you find a good spot to pee, you have 25 seconds until a line forms behind you). Everyone is a potential target for sexual harassment: Mardi Gras is known for men getting women to show their breasts, but I found out that sometimes it goes both ways. There were two guys hanging out of an open window of a building that overlooked one of the busier streets. They had a fistful of beads, and they were yelling at girls to flash them. That’s when something amazing happened. Someone from the crowd yelled back at the guys, “Show us your dicks!” The window guys looked confused. “Why did he say that? Guys don’t show dicks ... girls show tits!” But the crowd joined in and started heckling them to whip it out. Then they started chanting, “Touch those tips! Touch those tips!” Eventually the guys just closed the window. Whatever they did behind said closed window can be left up to your imagination. Well done, St. Louis. I have to say that I’m extremely impressed with your Mardi Gras festivities. For all of you planning on visiting some time in your life, keep these things in mind. As for me, same time next year? I’ll be there.

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Popping My Porn Cherry Forrest Fire wrote this Believe it or not, before this week I had never dabbled in the kinky, twisted world that is pornography. By watching over four hours of porn this week I have earned my novice badge in the world of smut, and there’s no turning back. My first time on a porn website was extremely intimidating but thrilling at the same time. Every site I visited greeted me with lubed, unnaturally-sized assets thrusting in every possible direction. Most of the time I watched porn in public places, like the library or in the back of lecture, so the thrill of getting caught made it a more exhilarating experience. After all of my watching I discovered that I had a “favorite” porn genre, which happened to be the first one I saw. And that, my friends, was themed porn. I totally understand why people are into this. Every time I order a pizza, would I like a casual hook up? Would I like one of my professors to come onto (and into?) me during office hours? In my future do I want one of my son’s friends to seduce me? Yes to all of the above. Sadly, it doesn’t happen. Costumes make all this role-playing equally unrealistic. Women in office-wear don’t wear sexy lingerie if they aren’t expecting to get any, and nineteen-year-old babysitters do not wear pigtails. But hey, it was still pretty hot if you ask me. On the other hand, I had two least favorite categories. Celebrity porn was my second to last solely because the whole thing is more of an attention contest than a porno. Kim Kardashian and Ray J’s “film” was merely thirty seconds of Kim’s whiney voice and then a minute of Ray J’s facial expressions. Definitely not worth the millions of dollars in her account today. My least favorite genre was anime, and it was by far the most disturb-

ing. Anime porn covered all the spectrums: There was an orgy with a mom, a rape scene and an entirely too detailed anal scene that for some reason included an octopus. It was like a children’s cartoon gone terribly wrong. It made me feel really uncomfortable every time I walked past an Asian girl on campus with a high ponytail and a Hello Kitty backpack. I felt like a pedophile. There were two significant realizations that I had after watching a good amount of porn. The first is that I am well below average at giving blowjobs. These girls really put their best effort into it, effort that I don’t think I’m physically capable of. Having a gag reflex must be a curse in porn because these girls have penises touching their sternums. Which leads me to my second realization: I am so grateful that I have never experienced a porn-sized dick and hopefully never will. Is that a part of natural selection? When you come out of the womb, do parents know their son is going to grow up and do porn? I’ll keep my manageable sixinchers, thank you very much. I understand porn is meant to push the limits of sexual fantasies, but there are two things that women go along with that absolutely disgust me: gargling and bukkake. Why on earth would you want to keep come in your mouth for longer than it has to be? Your choices are spit or swallow; don’t let guys believe that there is an in between. Bukkake is hands-down the most degrading task a woman can participate in, but it is weirder for guys. What is the appeal of standing around coming on the same girl? I mean, what if you guys make eye contact?

This question leads me to my final point. Heterosexual porn is quite the homoerotic experience. To all the guys out there who sit around and watch porn on a regular basis: You are literally viewing a man’s penis get hard. The only close-ups are on the dick entering the choice hole and the balls. Why do guys sit around jerking it to another guy getting off? Sure, there’s an occasional flash of boobs and a few sexy moans, but you’re staring at a dick, dude. But in the end, there are two reasons why I will probably watch porn again. For one, they are comical and easy to criticize. Also, because I really want to learn how to give a better blowjob.

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The

Top 10

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Things to Carry With You on Unofficial

With Unofficial only a few days away, it’s time to start preparing. You all know to stock up on alcohol before liquor stores actually start caring about fake IDs and dorms have round-theclock bag checks. Whether you bring a fanny pack, a backpack or your trusty pockets with you on Unofficial, make sure to carry these ten items with you as well. 10.) Debit Card: It’s cash AND plastic all in one. You don’t have to worry about accidentally misplacing $20 or withdrawing more money than you have. Well, maybe you do have to worry about losing your card and someone hacking your account, but just be responsible, ok? 9.) Chips: You never know when hunger will strike. And if it does, you don’t want to waste precious booze money on a $7 sandwich or wait in line behind a bunch of drunken assholes. Chips are a great go-to snack, and there are enough flavors to fit any mood you may be feeling. Girls, they fit very nicely in your clutch and are a delicious surprise when you open it later on. This writer would know.

International Students’ First Unofficial Morgan Foster wrote this Feng Shau was enjoying his time as a freshman on campus at the University of Illinois. Though he missed his friends and family at home in China, he liked his roommate Ding Han, who was from the same region of China. One day, as they were eating their teriyaki chicken sandwiches at Penn Station, they overhead a group of fraternity boys speaking of something called Unofficial. One said that their friend fell off of a fourth floor balcony last year, while another told a chilling story of a friend who walked into traffic. Feng and Ding looked at each other with wide eyes and shuddered at the horrible visions dancing in their head. This “Unofficial” must be a yearly epidemic that Americans suffer, they thought, kind of like SARS. Being cautious people, Feng and Ding decided to gather provisions to ward off the terrible Unofficial disease. They went to Walmart, and while the rest of the U of I student population browsed the liquor section, Feng and Ding stocked up on Lysol and face masks. That night, they tossed and turned after playing their nightly bout of World of Warcraft. Unofficial was two days away, and they feared the worst. The day had finally come. ‘Twas the morning of Unofficial. Feng and Ding went through their usual morning routine with heavy hearts. Perhaps their far away loved ones might never see their innocent faces again. Finally, they left FAR with masks adorning their faces. Upon arrival at the Quad, the boys gaped in awe. A sea of green met their anxious gazes. Why was everyone wearing that color? And what was up with the St. Patrick’s Day paraphernalia? Clearly the disease had already affected their fellow students’ brains—St. Patrick’s Day was still sixteen days away. Not only were the stricken students clothed in green, but they were also stumbling around as though they had just learned to walk. They yelled across the Quad in slurred voices and ambled aimlessly through the grass, ignoring the sidewalks. Feng and Ding gave each other a fearful look and hurried to their first class of

8.) Band-Aids: Drunken mishaps lead to blood which leads to sorority girls bawling their eyes out and throwing up. Be the savior and preventer of booze tears by stashing a few Band-Aids in your pocket before going out. If the wound is too big for you to cover up, don’t be afraid to call an ambulance. Just be sure to do it in Champaign, then you won’t get in (too much) trouble. 7.) Shot Glass Necklace: It hangs in the most convenient place and keeps you from using other herpes-infested glasses at rando apartments. You’ll never lose it, and it won’t shatter into a million little glass pieces. 6.) Diaper: If bathroom lines prove too long you’re going to need a backup plan. Ditch underwear for the day and don some Depends like grandpa always does. It’ll absorb your urine more than your boxer briefs, keeping you somewhat dry for a few hours until you can find an acceptable bathroom.

the day, Statistics 100. Even the professor was acting a bit strange, although that was not out of character for her. As Feng and Ding gazed about the room during lecture, they saw many heads lolling and many people taking swigs from small metal bottles. Could those tiny metal bottles hold the antidote to this strange illness? Feng and Ding pondered the possibility as they feverishly scribbled down notes on standard deviations.

5.) Condoms and One Little Bottle of Spermicidal Lube: Take a lesson from Superbad and think ahead like sweet Michael Cera. If you plan on sticking it in someone on Unofficial, you better not leave home without a few Trojans and some Astroglide. Alcohol makes it a little harder for some ladies to get wet, so be a gentleman and help her out.

After class, Feng and Ding decided to stop by their favorite restaurant, Sushi Ichiban, for lunch. As they reached the intersection of Wright and Green, they almost passed out from fear. Students were roaming the streets like deranged animals, green liquid splashing out of their clear plastic cups. Numerous people hung from balconies over Green, calling out obscenities and throwing cans at the street below. Feng and Ding looked at each other and nodded. They both had a love for humanity and knew that it was up to them to save their fellow students.

3.) Smoke Bomb: Nobody wants to get a ticket on Unofficial, and cops are looking for any little thing to write you up for. If you need to make a quick getaway but know you could never outrun them on foot, toss a smoke bomb and hide behind a nearby bush or in an open frat house. They’ll have no idea what happened.

4.) Knee Pads: Unofficial is notorious for impromptu dance-offs (especially if you have weird friends). Be prepared and protect your knees with some high quality pads. Might want to get some elbow ones too. Stuff a pillow in your pants too, to protect your bum. You can never be too careful.

2.) Keys: No, not so you can get back into your apartment at night (who says you’re going to make it home anyway?). Keys are essential to shotgunning beers. Sure, tough guys use their thumbs to pop the can open, and they’re the ones who’ll be needing the Band-Aids you brought later. Play it safe, don’t get hepatitis and use your keys to get to chuggin’.

They immediately spotted a wailing girl sitting on the sidewalk in a puddle of vomit. After spraying a halo of Lysol around her, Feng and Ding asked what was wrong. The girl replied, “I … I ... lost my shot necklace … it was green and shiny and convenient. It fell out of my fanny pack! Today is RUINED!” Feng and Ding knew she was a lost cause; they knew from American television that fanny packs had gone out of style two decades ago. Clearly the disease ruined the affected’s sense of time. Feng and Ding were scared senseless; they knew that they lacked the doctoral qualifications to help these poor people. They had to give up and save themselves. They ran as fast as they could to Sushi Ichiban. Inside there were at least a hundred international students packed together like sardines; many were crying, some were frantically stabbing at their huge Samsung phones. Feng and Ding dropped their bottles of Lysol and ripped off their masks. If they were going to die, at least they were among friends.

1.) Catheter: When you gotta go, you gotta go. Sometimes there’s no bathroom in sight, and public urination on Unofficial is a one-way ticket to the slammer. Just make sure no one accidentally slaps the wrong bag.

kitty kat wrote this

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University of Dublin to Start First Ever Unofficial American Independence Day Reindeer Games wrote this After hearing stories of the fabled Unofficial St. Patrick’s Day from UIUC students studying abroad at the University of Dublin, students in Dublin have formed a new student organization to create an Unofficial American Independence Day. This day is set to honor a fellow nation that shed England's iron fist of oppression. As Ireland still hasn’t completely accomplished this, they look to honor their more successful neighbors across the ocean. The overall somberness of the occasion requires that the Irish tone down their drinking in celebration, something that none of them quite understand. This means that the Irish will only drink a maximum of one bottle of whiskey and eight beers a person, a significantly lower amount than their typical daily consumption. The Irish have specially imported the mythical drinks Champaign students abroad have talked so frequently about. Irish imports of dirty thirty packs of Keystone Light and Natural Light have been found, along with handles of Evan Williams whiskey and Burnett’s vodka, which had previously been described to these locals as the nectar of the gods. In addition to booze importation, the Irish have decided to adapt a significant portion of the festivities that the University of Illinois takes part in on Unofficial. The day will begin with a power hour comprised of the Irish view of American music: John Cougar Mellencamp and Bruce Springsteen, exclusively. When this hour of power ends, various American drinking games like Quarters, Beer Pong, Flippy Cup, Landmines, Circle of Death, and Asshole will commence.

Seamus O’ Hennessey, provost of the University of Dublin, claims to like the festivities. “Any reason for meself to drink is a feckin’ good thing. Plus, if we can get these boyos to drink a wee bit less we might have less vandals destroying the university’s property.” Liam O’ Bryan, a sophomore in the School of Mixology, shared similar sentiment. “We Irish are always looking for another reason to drink, besides the old standards, ya know? Like weddings, family reunions, holidays, funerals, Fridays or Saturdays, or Thursdays, Mondays, or Tuesdays, Wednesdays or Sundays.” Joe Riley, a junior in Communication at the University of Illinois, currently abroad, says he is really excited about Unofficial Independence Day. “This will really make up for the lack of a Champaign Unofficial while I’m abroad. However, I am a little concerned for a holiday in Ireland that includes drinking.” Unnamed representatives on the University of Illinois Board of Trustees have displayed concerns about how this holiday will make the university look. “Unofficial St. Patrick’s Day, while generally not spoken about, is a useful tool in the recruitment of students to our fine institution. Engineers know that one day a year, they will be able to get extremely drunk with plebeian liberal arts students without real consequences. Thusly, these students choose to go to the University of Illinois. If other schools, even abroad, begin to offer these Unofficial holidays that are ‘condemned’ by the university, we may lose some enrollment.”

Even more outspoken was the Champaign Police Department. Officer Anthony Cobb has been very vocal in his animosity towards the new holiday. “The Champaign Police Department got involved with Unofficial St. Patrick’s Day because we saw it as a fundraiser for the city. With this new Unofficial holiday, some foreign cities will be raking in money based on our business model. We should receive some form of compensation from the Dublin Police Department as payment for the use of our trademarked plan.” Cobb, who is generally considered to be one of the people directly behind the idea of Unofficial, cites his Irish heritage and alcoholism as the main reason for jealousy of not living in Ireland like his blood brothers. Whether or not Champaign receives funds from the Irish for their idea, the first Unofficial American Independence Day will occur March 4. Whether this holiday will become an annual event depends on the death toll.

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bartenders of the week Bartender nickname: Torres

Bartender nickname: Bodyshot Backes

Favorite drink: Tequila Sunrise

Favorite drink: Tequila body shots off your girlfriend

Relationship status: In a relationship

Relationship Status: It still says “single” on Facebook

Favorite sex position: Reverse cowgirl

Best use for Snapchat: Dick pics, duh

Drink you would never drink: Anything with whiskey

Best place to get a blowjob: The secret room at the Armory

Best place to wake up from a blackout: In my bed with my boyfriend naked

Favorite sex position: Whatever Sarah Savage likes

What quality makes you serve someone before someone else: Who looks like they’ll tip the most

Worst nightmare: Being Snooki’s child Cartoon character you would bang: 4-some with the Powerpuff Girls

Favorite penis size and girth: As long as it feels good I don’t care

Ashley T.

The High Dive

Biggest turn off: Sober cigarette smoking If you could only say 2 words for the rest of your life what would they be: Be happy

the drinking game:

The Unofficial Breakfast Pregame Unofficial is by far the best day of the year, bringing joy and intoxication to every student on campus. Start Unofficial out right by inviting you best buds over for some green pancakes and an early morning pregame. Power hours are unoriginal and are often cheated on by the lightweights in the room. A better plan is to start Unofficial with a game designed for your morning pregame. What You’ll Need: Strictly beer. Unofficial is a marathon, not a sprint, so save the hard booze for later in the day. Later meaning 11 a.m. Number of Players: In the holiday spirit, the more the merrier. Level of Intoxication: You’ll have a solid buzzed base to ensure a successful Unofficial.

theblacksheeponline.com

Dream super power: Flying

nick b.

THe clybourne

Nickname for you penis: Mr. BallSackes Best pick up line: Get on your knees and smile like a blowfish

recipe for disaster: Beercakes

As if pancakes weren’t already good enough, beer makes them even better. Pancakes and beer go together like Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston: it just makes sense. Start Unofficial off in the best way with some beercakes for that essential morning pregame. What You’ll Need: 1 can of your favorite beer, 1 teaspoon of salt, 2 cups of all-purpose flour, 2 beaten eggs, 1/2 cup of white sugar, 1/4 cup melted butter, 1 teaspoon of baking powder, and cooking spray. Cook Time: 15 minutes. Fatty Factor: Depends on if you’re using light beer or not.

How To Play - Take a shot of beer for everyone in the room wearing green. - Take a shot of beer for every blow horn you hear. - Shot gun a beer for every person in the room that is still drunk from the night before. - Beer bong a beer for every lazy-ass roommate that won’t get out of bed. - Take a shot of beer every time someone says “Unofficial.” - Shotgun a beer for any lightweight that gets sorority girl wasted before 9 a.m. - Take a shot of beer every time someone tries speaking in an Irish accent. - Chug a beer because it’s the most magical day of the year!

Let’s Get Baked: - In a large bowl stir together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt. - Add the eggs, beer and melted butter to the mix. Stir until mixture is blended; a few lumps is fine. - Heat a skillet coated with cooking spray over medium heat. Spoon the batter out over the skillet using either a 1/4-cup measuring cup. - When the beercakes start to bubble flip them over until the other side is browned. - Pour your favorite syrup over the beercakes and eat ‘em while they're hot!

The Game Ends When: Once all those green pancakes are gobbled up and the beer is gone.

They taste a lot better going down than they do coming up, so eat wisely.

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booze of the week

page 17

Booze Review: Chila ‘Orchata Cinnamon Cream Rum | grade: A Overview: Everyone has heard of RumChata (if not, you’re missing out), and a lot of you might have had regular Horchata at your favorite non-Taco Bell Mexican restaurant. Although Chila ‘Orchata and RumChata have the same alcoholic content, it’s the bit of cinnamon in this week’s reviewed booze that gives the drink an extra little kick. History: Victor and Esteban were twins, born only 3 minutes apart, with Victor quickly inching out before his “little” brother. Since then, they were heated competitors in every aspect of life: winning parents’ attention, grades in school, and getting with girls. Esteban was always jealous of his brother, whom always seemed to have everything fall easily into his lap. When both brothers went to the same university and studied chemistry, Esteban knew he was destined for a lifetime of competition with his brother. He truly did love him but was always frustrated with being second best through his entire life. As fate would have it, both of the men were interested in the alcohol business—Victor because he used it all the time to get girls, and Esteban because he needed some way to relieve his daily pain. After research and multiple taste tests, Victor began making, bottling and selling RumChata, which became an instant hit across the rum-drinking world. Esteban became enraged by this because Victor had stolen this

recipe from his brother and did not give him any of the credit. To get some revenge, Esteban took the same formula but added one special twist: cinnamon. It was just enough to add a little spice and strength to the liquor but not a large amount to make one spit it out in disgust. It was perfect, delicious, and even better than this brother’s stolen creation. But unfortunately for poor Esteban, his brother overshadowed him once again. If only people could see and taste the little brother’s creation, the one that was only 3 minutes shy of worldwide fame... Typical Drinkers: Middle children, younger brothers, classy Latina women, moms and people in soft cashmere sweaters. User Comments: “Quite creamy but better than a load to the mouth.” “If I could just consume this for the cinnamon challenge, I know I’d win.” “You don’t take shots of it, idiot! You sip it!” Conclusion: Chila ‘Orchata is a great treat to indulge in at any time of day, whether it be with your coffee in the morning or vanilla tea before bed. So creamy, so cinnamony, so Hispanic.

Best Mixer: UV Cake • Worst Mixer: Sprite

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The Blackout and the Beautiful: Part 3 tex mex wrote this Last time on The Blackout and the Beautiful: Allie receives some creepy texts from her lab partner Kevin and gets a call from her MILF-ofa-mom, demanding to meet with her daughter’s boyfriend for the first time over lunch. Unknowing that said boyfriend has already “met” her mom (and then some), Allie leaves for her and Jerry’s anniversary dinner…

“Hey, gorgeous! Glad you made it,” greeted Jerry, giving Allie a mild but tender peck on her lips. “I was honestly just about to go at it alone and get intimate with an order of garlic bread. At least she’s never late—“ Allie playfully smacked her palm on Jerry’s chest, smiling at the same oddball humor that she’d be laughing at for the past year now. She followed Jerry into the restaurant, and the two were seated near immediately, as one would expect on a weekday night. The couple talked, laughed and gorged as they reminisced on their days, telling stories of dumb things their friends had said, roommate problems and crazy professors (though Jerry kept quiet for that last bit). “So, I was talking to my mom today, and I swear to God, I don’t think that woman complains enough about some of the students in her classes,” began Allie after their pizza had arrived. Jerry immediately tensed up, his heart rate becoming more rapid, and his legs trembling in order to compensate for the massive lump now situated in his throat. Allie’s mom’s 40-something-year-old, tenured breasts popped into his mind, despite the

"I’d be tired too after all that assplay." - Michael S., Senior

fact that he was talking to her daughter. “Now take your iClicker and make sure its frequency matches mine, Jerry.” “W-what?” Jerry blurted out in utter confusion. “I said, ‘Are you feeling ok, Jerry?’” repeated Allie. “I dunno. You got really… weird all of a sudden.” Jerry’s eyes darted around sporadically as he tried to register his thoughts. “Oh, no, I’m fine, really. Sorry,” assured Jerry. “You were saying about your mom?” Allie raised a brow knowing something was up but understanding that if it was something that important, Jerry would let her know. “I dunno. She was just going on and on about her students doing poorly or whatever. That much wasn’t really anything new.” Jerry gave out a sign of relief. “But she did say that she wants to meet you next week.” Jerry gasped and subsequently got a piece of sausage caught in his windpipe, coughing incessantly until he spit up the half-chewed, saliva-covered wad of meat onto Allie’s plate. Before Allie could ask if he was ok, Jerry’s words quickly caught up to his thoughts. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean, you said it yourself, she’s a psycho, so…” Jerry began searching desperately for a way to claw himself out of the situation he had caused upon noticing Allie’s looming

expression of appall and disgust. “So I just think that … I mean, I’m sure she’s a nice lady and totally not insane, sort of—“ “What the hell is the matter with you?” Allie was infuriated and deeply hurt, and Jerry felt like an idiot for trying to hide his certain embarrassment and middle-aged sexual frustration. “I know my mother might not be the most level-headed woman out there, but she’s my mom. So, excuse me for having parents who actually want to meet my boyfriend. It’s been a damn year already.” Jerry became tongue-tied. “Thanks for ruining our anniversary, asshole. For someone who likes throwing the word around, you’re the one who’s acting like a psychopath right now.”

Tears streaming down her face, Allie briskly raced home with her thoughts in a flurry. Out of the darkness, a snickering figure in boots grabbed Allie and muffled her screams with his other hand, dragging her back to his van, as she yelped for Jerry when she had the chance. “So what are you doing tonight?”

Everyday after Midnight! WE DELIVER!

Chicken & Pizza

"I don’t care, but I’m totally unfollowing him on Twitter. " - Matt D., Senior

Allie’s chair screeched against the hardwood floor while leaving the table, and she stormed out without saying a word to Jerry. Defeated and angry at himself, Jerry pulled out his phone to call her. Instead of his normal home screen, 25 unread texts messages from Mrs. J greeted him, each one asking where he was, along with other enraged sexual perversions. Jerry slammed his head on the table.

$6.50 LATE NIGHT SPECIALS

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What do you think about the Pope resigning?

7:40 p.m. – “He’s gonna kill me for being late,” thought Allie as she speed-walked towards Papa Del’s for her anniversary dinner with Jerry. She was normally very punctual, but with all the nonsense over the phone with her mother, Allie found herself well beyond ten minutes late for her special night. She liked that Jerry wasn’t one to obsess over extremely fancy restaurants and whatnot, seeing Papa Del’s as a suitable balance between casualness and deliciousness. Plus, they’d had one of their first dinners there as a couple, which caused Allie to chuckle while recounting the time when Jerry got a long string of mozzarella from their garlic bread stuck in his teeth for hours on end. As she walked down the sleazier parts of east Green Street, right about where the smoke shops and El Charro reside, Allie heard snickering and shuffling coming from the bushes across the street. She stopped, puzzled, briefly inspecting her surroundings. Whether or not it was her mind playing tricks on her, she cared not. At this point, she was ready to high-tail it and near sprint the rest of the way.

From the Streets

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T UN RY EN VE OP M E HT! 3A NIG

"Who’s she?" - Jim C., Senior

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continued from the cover Cobb went on to say that the poorly-conceived Halloween decorations and ominous graffiti around campus were all part of a plan to capture the attention of Champaign residents about the dangers of Unofficial. The emails to parents and strict laws concerning Unofficial were not enough to warn students about this terribly dangerous day anymore. “Kids these days need to be shocked. Boo!” Cobb yelled into the microphone, nearly blowing out the PA system. “However, they also need to know that law enforcement is something which they can relate to. That’s why we began this conference with some of that pop music that kids love these days. All we are trying to say is that we are dead serious about Unofficial this year,” Cobb said pointing to the smudged corpse paint on his face. “I think we are in agreement that 100,000 dead students is a whole lot of dead people for one day, but how exactly did you get to that number?” a concerned member of the crowd asked. “It’s really quite simple. Let’s start with the widespread drinking of Keggled Beer on Unofficial. I don’t have the exact numbers, but I wouldn’t be surprised if over a hundred Keglings of beer are bought on Unofficial every year. Assuming that half of those Keglings are placed on balconies, with about 10-12 students on each balcony when given balcony collapses, I mean, that adds up. I would say based on Kegling-induced balcony collapses alone we are looking at about 20,000 super dead students.” “What can be done to stop this terrible tragedy?” another voice called out. “Therein lies the problem. You see, students seem to be naturally drawn to this type of behavior. Okay, I’ll admit that this town has over ten bars and close to the same amount of liquor stores, however, I still don’t understand why students get the idea that binge drinking is an acceptable activity. It must be because of that Black Sheep paper. To answer your question, we just plan on sticking to our usual attack strategy: fines, fines, fines. On March 1 don’t leave your house unless you plan on breaking out your checkbook.” “Does that work?” “Absolutely not.” “Do you think it might be a safer alternative for students to smoke marijuana on Unofficial instead of drinking alcohol?” “Goodness gracious, no. If that were the case then we would be looking at casualties reaching up to the hundreds of millions… hundreds of millions, at least! Thanks for that great question! Why don’t you leave us your name, address and phone number so we can contact you with a more in-depth answer.” At this, Cobb announced that there would be no further questions, signaled for the Elvis Costello to come back on, and left the room. While this news may be shocking, there is no reason to feel that your life is in danger once Unofficial rolls around. We at The Black Sheep plan on stocking up on homework and non-alcoholic Coca-Cola products and burying ourselves deep underground until this whole “College Experience” thing blows over. Good luck.

"All we are trying to say is that we are dead serious about unofficial this year."

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mouth is Each week, under our Bartender of the Week feature, we publish a small article, “Recipe for Disaster.” In it, we outline a means of preparing drunk food that caters to your average student. Well, we decided just making up recipes was bullshit—real chefs taste their food! At least, that’s what Tom Colicchio tells us.

poptartilla Ingredients: Two tortillas, two blueberry Pop-Tarts, extra-crunchy peanut butter, strawberry jam Preparation Time: 6 minutes Flavor: 3.5 Texture: 4.9 Ease of Eating: 3 Ease of Preparation: 4 Ease of Clean-Up: 2.5

So here we have six recipes, both normal and bizarre, that have ran in that wacky feature. We had all of our full-time staffers try them, rating each six items in five categories scaled 1-5, 1 being the worst, 5 the best. Some were amazing, some ah-mah-zing, others, well, we’d tell you, but there’s still some puke left in the darkest recesses of our stomach.

Notes: -The Poptartilla turned out much better than any of the judges We found love. expected. Some questioned how the tortilla would mix with the processed Pop-Tart, others, whether the consistency would be too weird after a couple of bites. These fears were unfounded. The tortilla posed no threat, and the texture was spot on. - As the above pictures suggest, the Poptartilla is a visually stunning culinary masterpiece, sure to impress any wastoid foolish enough to accompany a The Black Sheep reader home to “watch Anchorman.” Beyond that, the tortilla offers easy eating opportunities. Not only does it look nice, it’s easy to shove down your throat, easier than his tobacco-stained tongue, at least. - However delicious the Poptartilla may be, it sure does poach one’s throat. A huge gravity bong rip always gives the late-night muncher a mean case of cottonmouth, and the peanut butter all but assures a choking hazard as it tries to slide down that dehydrated highway. - Sloppy drunks should be wary of preparing the Poptartilla. For maximum flavor, the tortilla should be warmed in a skillet, and the Pop-Tarts toasted in the...the toaster. Both of these present serious burning risks to those lacking full-body control.

ghetto fab chow mein Ingredients: Chicken-flavored ramen, two hot dogs, green onions, a red bell pepper, lettuce, tomato • Preparation Time: 13 minutes • Flavor: 2.1 • Texture: 2.25 • Ease of Eating: 4.5 • Ease of Preparation: 1 • Ease of Clean-Up: 1 Notes: - Do you like ramen? Of course you do, you’re a college student, and it’s the best meal twenty cents can buy. Well, how about you throw out the MSG flavor explosion, add some of your precious veggies, a hot dog and spend twice as long coo…HEY! GET BACK HERE AND FINISH READING THIS HUMOROUS QUIP! - But really, the Ghetto Fab Chow Mein is almost certainly more trouble than it’s worth. An amateur chef has a hard enough time boiling water, sautéing veggies, and cooking hot dogs at the same time. Force

them to do this intoxicated, and all of a sudden, spending the last six dollars on a Jimmy John’s sub is a much better proposition. - The best use of Ghetto Fab Chow Mein is for wooing that lusty little beast you randomly made out with on the walk home. Visually, the noodles mixed with juicy red meat and a variety of veggies promises the promiscuous person a meal of a lifetime. Since everything tastes better drunk, (s)he’ll be fooled by the visuals. Your resulting visuals won’t be so bad.

inferno walking taco Ingredients: One can of chili, three small bags of Fritos, sour cream, lettuce, tomato, green onions, and mozzarella cheese Preparation Time: 4 minutes Flavor: 4.1 Texture: 4 Ease of Eating: 3.6 Ease of Preparation: 5 Ease of Clean-Up: 5

Notes: - Eating doesn’t get much easier than opening a bag that has food in it, putting more food in said bag, then eating food out of the bag. Ever see a commercial that claims “X” can be done if the user “just adds water”? Well, the Inferno Walking Tacos are the “just add water” of delicious food, minus water, plus fat and meat. - Once everything’s in the bag, you’re set. Think about it; if a drunk suddenly needs to up and run from the fuzz, WTF, right? no need to put anything in a bag, it’s already in a bag! And a bag in a bag?! College kids can’t afford that many bags. Need to throw it away? Just put the bag in a garbage bag. “But I thought you said I shouldn’t be putting bags in bags?” you say? Exception proves the rule, son. - he only real knock to the Inferno Walking Tacos is, the eater has to get down there and really find those Fritos. While the other ingredients taste good, the texture, sans-chip, is unpleasant. - If there was a diarrhea factor, this would get a 5.

Fluffernutter Cookies Ingredients: One cup extra-crunchy peanut butter, one cup marshmallow fluff, one egg • Preparation Time: 28 minutes • Flavor: 4.4 • Texture: 2.7 • Ease of Eating: 2.1 • Ease of Preparation: 2.5 • Ease of Clean-Up: 1 Notes: - Our Recipe for Disaster called for baking these cookies for fifteen minutes. For this to work, the cookies need to be portioned out to Oreo-sized cookies, or they will not bake all the way through in this period of time. -If you’re stupid enough to make four large cookies (see left), be prepared to have a… wait for it…sticky situation on your hands! Marshmallow fluff is sticky, so is peanut but-

ter. So is undercooked sugar. - We’re still not quite sure why egg is to be used in this. Does one really need a binding agent if there’s no flour and two sticky ingredients involved? (Note: The answer is no.) -The above failures aside, the cookie actually tasted pretty good, as peanut buttery and marshmallowy things are wont to do. One taster noted chocolate chips would be a wonderful addition. Sure. Why not?

bbq nachos Ingredients: Tortilla chips, cheddar cheese, colby-jack cheese, green onions, Sweet Baby Ray’s barbecue sauce Preparation Time: 3 minutes Flavor: 2.4 Texture: 2.6 Ease of Eating: 3.9 Ease of Preparation: 5 Ease of Clean-Up: 3.5

Notes: -The biggest compliment one can pay to BBQ Nachos is that they’re easy to make. Chips— hobos can afford chips—plus a few condiments, and one has a snack that is, well, not good, but edible. - Drunken peoples should avoid using dangerous appliances; this is fact. Sure, this rules out obvious enemies like the food processor and the Rotato, but there’s the always-dangerous oven. What if one falls asleep using it, causing a fire? Or burns their hand badly, meaning no masturbation for weeks? Well, the microwave is safe, but not for the food. We popped our BBQ Nachos in there for two minutes—about a minute and a half too long. The chips were hard and the cheese way overdone.

the lent buster Ingredients: Two blueberry Pop-Tarts, one pint chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, one Snickers bar, a handful of hot dog-flavored potato chips, a handful of original potato chips, chocolate syrup, two shortbread cookies, one cupcake, a handful of Cheerios, one can of Coke Zero, a handful of pretzels, ice, a splash of vodka. • Preparation Time: 7 minutes • Flavor: 1 • Texture: 0.5 • Ease of Eating: 3.3 • Ease of Preparation: 4 • Ease of Clean-Up: 2 Notes: - All those ingredients went in a blender for about ten seconds. The end result was a cold slurry of salty-sweet slop that looked and smelled like throw-up. - There’s an old saying about camels: A camel is a horse designed by engineers; the idea being, a camel is a bunch of good ideas poorly applied. If this analogy holds true, the Lent Buster is liquid diabetes created by malevolent assholes with early-onset Type 2

diabetes. Does a small item of food have more than 100% the daily suggested sodium or sugar intake? Throw that shit in there, son. - Though it was mostly a thick, grainy paste — ostensibly easy to consume — the Lent Buster scores low marks for being so visually and olfactorily disgusting. It was like drinking an ugly hobo milkshake. - When drinking the Lent Buster, one could chew on wet potato chip. It was not pleasant.

Hard cheese, not pleased.

- We re-cooked a smaller batch for 45 seconds, and this batch of BBQ nachos were good, which is the apex of this snack’s potential. Do you like salty things? Sweet things? Cheesy things? Congratulations, so does everyone else! The line ends around the forever.

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