Michigan State Fall issue 12 - 11/14/12 by The Black Sheep

The Black Sheep

Fr ee ... l at ike h Sp ar ow ta mu n St ch s ad iu tud m e go nt fo tick r. et s

• a college newspaper that’s actually about college •

Volume 7, Issue 12 11/14/12 -11/28/12

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How to: Silence Your Questioning Relatives Alex Everard wrote this

What’s worse than guiltily gorging down that turkey leg while knowing damn well the pilgrims were totally the bad guys? Answer: your relatives yapping your ears off about “career possibilities” and “your future.” Sorry, I thought this was “Thanksgiving,” not “Thanks-for-coming-now-let-me-give-youmy-opinion-on-your-life.” Mastering the art of silencing pesky relatives and stuffing your face in peace is a complex process, but we’re here to offer guidance. Step 1- Drink: Identify the relative most likely to make you the stiffest drinks. We’ve all got that aunt, maybe even that grandma, who’ll pour it ‘til it’s on the table when Mom and Dad aren’t looking. Sure, the ‘rents might give you a beer or two, but they don’t want you to get sloppy, slapping-obesewomen-at-Rick’s drunk and make them look like failures in front of the whole family. Luckily for you, relatives that don’t have the responsibility of being your parents generally don’t give a fuck. Find this relative and seek them out repeatedly in order to get a nice buzz going. You’ll be able to smash more stuffing, and it will dull the aggravating barrage of questions you’re sure to encounter. Step 2 - Dig for Dirt: Before the Thanksgiving feast, make sure to coyly ask your parents about embarrassing things your relatives have done over the years. They’ll think you’re just making conversation, and everyone knows parents love to retell stories with excruciating detail. That way, when you’re Uncle Jeff says something like, “So what’s the worst hangover you’ve had this semester?” with a sly grin on his face, you can reply, “Nothing that could possibly compare to the one you had after you ditched my Mom at the Van Halen concert in ’82.” Boom, what’s that, Jeff? That’s what I thought. Step 3 - Make Stuff Up: When that goodie-goodie relative who over achieved despite having a lesser degree than the one you’ll be getting asks about the internships you’ve got lined up, just fib! “Oh, you know, I’ve got a few paid gigs that are in the bag but at this point; I’m just looking for the highest bidder!” Give them a jab in the ribs and a wink as you say this. It’s just the kind of schmoozing they did to climb the success ladder and they’ll totally buy it. No one will ever have to know you’re the “Social Media Manager” of a “satirical booze-paper” and get paid in middle-shelf rum and sometimes chicken wings. Step 4 - Get Seconds, Thirds, and, if You Have the Gut for it, Fourths: Grandpa has you locked into a story that began

The Real First Thanksgiving

about fishing, but has now morphed into a story about the time he met Arnold Palmer at the movies. It’s boring as shit, so just simply interrupt and say, “Oh, I better go get some pie before Jeff eats it all!” By the time you get back Grandpa will have moved on to rambling to his next victim with yet another fictitious story about the time he rode a dolphin through Cape Cod. Step 5 - Keep Drinking: Maybe you’re the type of person who gets wittier as they get drunker. Maybe you’re the type of person who just doesn’t give a Hefeweizen as they get drunker. Either way, devote plenty of time to playing toys with

what’s inside

your little cousins, but not so much time that everyone knows you’re hammered. FYI: fucking up Jenga on your first pull is a dead give-away - believe me, you should have been at my house last Thanksgiving. Follow these steps when necessary and you’ll spend more time putting delicious poultry down your throat and less time stumbling over what you plan to do in the next five years. Let’s face it, no one wants their college buzz killed with a reminder that college is meant for career advancement and societal placement. Lame.

Point/counterpoint: parades

Thanksgiving 3000

The more things change the more they still stay pretty racist.

Both sides agree it's a great place to watch fat spectators humiliate themselves.

oh Don't worry, the Lions still lose.

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page three ! k e e W e h t f o c i P word of the week Lamerick:

A popular quote or turn of phrase that transcends annoying, to become repugnant. “There once was a woman named Coco/ Who always would shout out, “YOLO!”/Then one day/All her friends went away/Because holy shit, that lamerick is crazy annoying.”

Meet The Staff campus managers Ziev Beresh & Justin Gawel

photographer Bailey Paskiewicz

Advertising ManagerS Victoria Bujny, Andrew Meggert Zach Martin, Michael Zalewsky

campus director Quinn Myers

Writers Alex Everard, Cody Manthei Phillip Keller, Hannah Borland Zoe Kremke, Garrison Rasmusen Andrew Rickerman, Zach Wyrzykowski, Jess Martinelli, Meg Enter distribution manager Cara Stevens

owner Atish Doshi Founders Atish Doshi, Brendan Bonham, Heather Jo Erickson, Jimmy DeBlasio, Jessica Sommers, Quinn Myers, Evan Stone Questions? info@theblacksheeponline.com Advertising? ads@theblacksheeponline.com

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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The Real First Thanksgiving Jess Martinelli wrote this The sea was harsh, but the voyage was complete and land was a-ho. Passengers let out sighs of relief knowing that they would soon be able to get sloshed without the Church of England waiting at home to ground them for having only, like, three-and-a-half shots of corn mead. Never again would these pilgrims be forced to hide in that kid’s basement whose parents go out of town every weekend just to socialize in an intoxicated environment. In fact, this New World would assuredly usher them into a new, golden era of liver disease and memory loss. As the last two barrels of whiskey were unloaded, the settlers saw smoke rising and heard drums beating in the forest, leading them to believe that perhaps they were not alone in this New World. Suddenly, two dark figures emerged from the forest wall stumbling over one another. When they noticed the settlers, one let out a terrifying scream and shot an arm up in the air to attack. Then, like a drunken tree, he crashed face-first into the sand causing the other figure to fall to the ground giggling like a hyena after a few inhales from a glass vase. As the settlers approached what appeared to be two shitfaced natives, the first man stood up to catch his breath. He slapped a hand onto the shoulder of the nearest settler for balance, pointing at himself he slurs, “Squanto,” before dropping like a sack of fat babies. Oh, that Squanto—always stumbling around, blacking out, and taking his loins out of his loincloth in front of strangers. Crawling on the ground and reeking of vomit, clearly showing that he could party, Squanto scanned the surroundings and, just like any alcoholic father, his eyes lit up as soon as he spied the pile of whisky barrels he exclaimed, “Bomp bomp!” Puzzled, the settlers stared in confusion until Squanto poured whiskey into a small glass, threw it all back at once, and screamed, “BOMP BOMP!” Not wanting to seem like pussies that couldn’t drink, each settler grabbed a barrel and followed this new, dark stranger deep into the forest in a move that afterschool specials constantly warn about. The sun was nearly set and the drumming became clearer. Finally, they saw it: A flowing, glowing pack of wonderfully decorated individuals that were drinking, dancing, romancing, and, most importantly, drinking. Squanto grabbed the nearest gourd,

filled it with whisky from the barrel, and handed it to the first settler in a gesture that said, “Put on your drinking moccasins; you’re about to get white-girl wasted.” The next morning was filled with more nausea than the entire trip across the Atlantic. Squanto remedied the situation by passing his peace pipe and getting everyone super-high, or, rather, soaring like eagle. With everyone thoroughly blazed off of this Native American pottery, hunger naturally set in. Squanto and the other natives began to prepare a feast of epic proportions and the settlers brought over more of their “fire water” to share. As the feast began, pilgrim and native alike drank, ate, and laughed over the crazy things that happened the night before including a delightful story about one of the settlers mistaking a Native American clothing ditch for a toilet, and how one of the pilgrims accidentally got scalped by a warrior chief. The two peoples chuckled like old friends together, not knowing that soon all the Indians would all die from the pilgrims’ smallpox.

Talking to a James Madison Student: An Inner Monologue zoe kremke wrote this

Oh God, you think, as the only James Madison student at the party walks up to you. Oh no, really, you’re James Madison? I never would have guessed, but, of course, you started the conversation with it. Here you go; talking about how you’re “not like the other James Madison” kids, because that’s totally not a lie. I’m sure it’s not a lie, because otherwise why would you so emphatically be defending yourself while I sit here silently? Probably because you’re perfectly normal. Desperately, you try to snap yourself out of your half-comatose, half-angered state and engage in the inevitably awful conversation you’re about to be forced to endure. But, just as you pipe up about your latest alcohol-related adventure desperately trying to change the subject, they just keep going with their views on how they would have resolved every world conflict. No, how much more could they possibly have to say about Kosovo, you think. They’re still going and I need to find that bottle of vodka. You track down as much alcohol as you can, in the hopes that it’ll make this stage-five clinger slightly more bearable. In non-political theory, alcohol should make dealing with this James Madison douche easier, you hope, since it’s become clear that he’s mistaking your common courtesy as an invitation to corner you and tell you about how much he loves Nelson Mandela. I should have known, you think, he was just a little bit too clean cut to be normal. At first I just thought he was from Ohio or something weird like that, but, seriously, who still pops their collar? Also, I’m pretty sure he ironed and dry cleaned his denim shorts. It’s quickly becoming apparent that he’s here for the duration of the evening. Awesome. What else could make this less painful? You try heading back

to the beer pong table, but then you find a group of strangers doing shots. Boom, eureka, we’ll make this a drinking game! Every time he acts superior to you, you’ll take a shot! Ten shots and forty-five minutes later, you're perfectly shitfaced and still numbly nodding as he continues to talk about how awesomely open-minded he is (or so you assume, because you stopped listening after shot numero quatro). Boy, I’m super lucky that you ran into me tonight, I’m not regretting this evening already at all. Not even a little bit. Keep telling me about how much better you are than everybody else. Oh? You’re making fun of me now, that’s real rich, buddy. Obviously everyone you’ve ever been out with has a lower alcohol tolerance than you. Of course, that has nothing to do with the fact that they all have to get hammered just to endure your scholarly jack assery. It’s quickly evolving into a night to trump all terrible nights. How did you get stuck with Mr. Elitist Egoist? Wait, ew, what’s he doing? Oh, Mary, Mother of God, you think to yourself. He’s going in for the kill, the kiss, the grand slam. Oh, hell no. You’ve been saddled with James Madison all night, and now he wants to literally saddle up? Shut the front door. You do what any sane college girl would do, you spit in his eyes and stomp his toes, just like your Mom and TV taught you. Just kidding, you’re pretty drunk, so you slur some nonsensical insults his way, tell him that he will never be an ambassador, and proceed to collapse under the nearest ficus. But don’t worry - we’ll totally back you up when you tell everyone tomorrow that you told him to go back to Case with the rest of the trolls.

The Top 12

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Ranking the Attractiveness of Big Ten Football coaches To our Big Ten brethren and sisteren – regardless of whom you cheer for – there is one takeaway from this football season: our conference blows. When our underwhelming teams meet on the gridiron, it’s the equivalent of two short buses repeatedly bumping into one another. The product on the field is shit, leading us to examine more intriguing aspects of the game, like, who has the hottest coaches. Let’s find out. 12.) Brady Hoke (Michigan): The Hokester is by far the most disgusting representative of the group and does a phenomenal job of representing the collective ugliness that resides in Ann Arbor. However, if you consider gravy, fried lard, or Easy Cheese to be necessary in foreplay, then he skyrockets up your list. 11.) Bo Pelini (Nebraska): Although he is one of the most attractive males in the state of Nebraska – he is sub-300 lbs after all – he chooses to exclusively breathe from his mouth, and has a head that looks like an angry zit on the verge of exploding. Good luck getting off on that, Mrs. Pelini.

Point/Counterpoint: Parades Cody Manthei wrote this Have you ever stopped to think about the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade? I mean, really think about it. The implication is that the parade is a symbol of our economic standing as a nation: how we have the biggest balloons, we get the most attention, and go to parades instead of dying from famine. The wonders of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade are enjoyed by children and adults alike, however, not everybody is on board with the whole parade scene, and some people utterly despise it. With us today, we have a supporter and dissenter of the annual Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, in hopes of providing an in depth background to the holiday tradition. We’ve brought in a professor of parade history and national parade laureate Frank Duffant, arguing for parades. Against parades we have Lou Anna K. Simon, a self-proclaimed, “bad bitch with a worse twitch.” Lets begin; we’re playing the feud. Duffant: Throughout history, parades have been a way to bring the community together and create civic pride. They mend differences, whether in culture, age, or religion, and provide a communal ground that we can all stand on and participate as equals. Simon: Yeah, they bring all the freaks out; that’s for sure. This one time I was at a parade and saw a dude lick a dog’s butt hole. A flippin’ dog; the guy didn’t even use a dental dam! Now whenever I go to a parade that’s all I can think about. Fuckin' dirty tongues. Jesus, when I even think of a parade I down a fifth of whiskey and hope the Mex-hi-ca-nos go back to whatever country they’re from. What a load of crap. Duffant: Lou Anna, you bring up a good point. Parades are a good excuse for people to drink together. And if there’s one thing that brings people closer, it’s public intoxication. People love to drink, and people love to drink when forty-foot balloons are floating down the street. Simon: God, don’t get me started on balloons! What a waste of time and money. Let me tell you, the only parade worth anything was the Trail of Tears. Andrew Jackson, now that

10.) Jerry Kill (Minnesota): This head coach of the Gophers earns the honor of looking most like his team’s mascot – thanks to his gigantic buck teeth and almost cute, chunky build. He’s truly more heart attack than heart-throb. 9.) Bill O’Brien (Penn State): PSU fans, we’ll save you from the played-out blows at your expense. That being said, it doesn’t excuse the fact that your coach’s morning ritual consists of cleaning out excess wax from his butt chins, plural. 8.) Kevin Wilson (Indiana): A man of mystery, as no one knows what Kevin Wilson looks like. Why? Because no one watches Indiana football. No one.

man could marshal an effective parade. Duffant: But that wasn’t even a parade! Not to mention the implications of that statement are extremely offensive. Simon: Ah, go suck one! You wanna know the real implications of parades? Traffic jams. You can’t drive anywhere when there‘s a parade going on in the city. People are all like, “Oh, you can’t drive there; can’t you see the parade?” And I’m all like, “No shit, I can see the parade. I’m drunk, not blind, you moron.”

7.) Bret Bielema (Wisconsin): Like most Wisconsinites and fellow cattle-humpers, Bret consumes a strict diet of cheese and Wisconsin’s finest brew – Hamm’s. This lifestyle leads to a short, obesity and diabetes-riddled life, but he makes up for it with his tactful use of hair product.

Duffant: Cities have always provided alternate routes for traffic in parade scenarios. It may detour around the parade, but people still have a path to drive almost anywhere in the city. That’s the beauty of parades. They can stop an entire city, while still keeping it alive and moving seamlessly.

5.) Pat Fitzgerald (Northwestern): The dude wears purple. Enough said. He’s in touch with his feminine side, and isn’t that really what any woman (or gay man) could ask for when he's nibbling on your toes?

Simon: Your balls are going to be seamless if you don’t shut that noise hole in your face. Duffant: I am appalled. Moderator, are you hearing this? No, really, I can’t continue under these circumstances. You brought me in here to have a scholarly discussion about parades and you provide her as a counterpoint. This is offensive, and I’m leaving. Simon: What a pussy. Am I right? Ha. Now, whose got a bump? I wanna keep this rush going. Well, that about wraps up our point/counterpoint about parades (since then LKS has been huffing helium balloons and complaining that Mickey Mouse is already “too big”). We hope this enriches your Thanksgiving Day appreciation and maybe even taught you a thing or two about parades. May your travels be safe and your turkey be—Oh, Jesus Christ, Lou Anna, what the hell are you doing? Is that a gun made out of smaller guns? Lady, you’re insane! Cut tape, Camera Guy Jerry, and tell my family I love them if Lou Anna murders me!

6.) Danny Hope (Purdue): When a man has a killer ‘stache and toned body, what’s not to like? He is probably that guy in the gym who obnoxiously grunts with every rep, but at least he’s only sporting one chin.

4.) Tim Beckman (Illinois): It’s really unfortunate Tim doesn’t know how to coach. If he could, then the rest of the country – rather than Central Illinoisan hicks – could admire his Romney-esque hair and strong jaw line. 3.) Urban Meyer (Ohio State): He is every woman’s wet dream: success, power, and no visible scars. Urban is redflags-free, as long as you’re down with being with an egotistical sociopath who’s undoubtedly into things like choking, bondage, or the most painful of butt-beads. 2.) Kirk Ferentz (Iowa): Kirk “The Gray Fox” Ferentz is a favorite amongst older women. Your aunt isn’t a devoted Hawkeye fan because of their explosive offense; she is imagining doing a little undercarriage work on the ‘ol hawk. Think about that at Thanksgiving Dinner if you’re worried about overeating. 1.) Mark Dantonio (Michigan State): When you come up with plays like “Rocket,” “Mouse Trap,” and ”Little Giants,” one thing is clear – you have massive balls. And like Mama always said, “A hefty set of balls is the key to true love.”

Andrew Rickerman wrote this

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Got a question you want us to ask? FTS@theblacksheeponline.com

What’s your best/weirdest thanksgiving memory? "I’m from the UK so we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving." - Laura K., Sophomore

"There was a huge blizzard a couple of years ago, and we had to dig my grandma out of her driveway." - Dylan G., Freshman

"I dropped acid with some friends and rode bikes down Grand River because no one was here to tell us otherwise." - Rob B., Senior

send your party pics to pics@theblacksheeponline.com

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Thanksgiving in 3000:

Looking Back on an Antiquated Holiday phil keller wrote this Thanksgiving has come quite a long way since that first awkward, interracial feast. Apparently, the pilgrims were smart enough to sail all the way across the Atlantic, but were starving because they couldn't grasp the complexities of corn, maize, or corn mazes. The Indians felt sorry for these sad sacks full of smallpox, in their fancy boy buckles and pantaloons, and helped them survive the winter. This act turned out to be the biggest backfire in history right next to George Lucas trying to resurrect the Star Wars franchise, and Kevin Federline’s parents’ decision to drink too much wine and play a few rounds of “tickling and dickling” in 1977. In the years since the first Thanksgiving, the holiday has gone from a tradition of corn and blunderbusses, to football, awkward family tension, and the customary racist comments from grandparents. If this trend continues, the future of Turkey Day is going to be very different from the holiday that we now know and enjoy. Check that, the holiday we tolerate… through the awesome power of alcohol. One thousand years in the future, our robot overlords have done away with most holidays, for they have no practical uses. However, our most logically programmed animatronic leader, PresidentKing-and-Tyrant Barack Robotma, still permits the celebration of Thanksgiving for the time being. In the year 3000, the turkey has gone the way of dinosaur and Pogs, and the preparation of all of the traditional Thanksgiving food has been thought of as inefficient. So, in the future, the entire Thanksgiving spread has been condensed into a single convenient suppository. With the application of a little lubricant and a few seconds of severe discomfort, you can enjoy turkey, potatoes, gravy, beans, corn, cranberries, and three kinds of dip - effectively putting a whole new spin on the word "stuffing." Football used to serve as the centerpiece of the day, for it distracted the conversation away from your loud, compulsively gambling uncle, as well as diverting attention away from Grandma saying she’s worried that your half-Pakistani boyfriend of three years is only going to marry you so he can steal you back to his country (she says this in front of him, too, thinking he is her old butler). Yes, football has turned the room’s attention into light banter about what the Lions should’ve done, examined from every possible perspective.

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In the future, we gather around and watch actual Megatrons seismically spike footballs into literal, genetically manipulated New York Giants on Thanksgiving. Fortunately, the players can entertain for hours without needing rest, so gone are the days of enduring atrocious halftime performances, which, at present day, seem to alternate between geriatric douches like John Cougar Mellencamp and Madonna butchering “God Bless America,” or boy bands that wiggle their tiny dongs around for five minutes. Of course, last year all bets were off when we had to endure ten minutes of Nickelback during halftime of the Lions’ game, as if the city of Detroit hadn’t suffered enough.

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Happy Hour: 3P.M. - 7P.M.! 9P.M. to 2am: $3.50 Dbl. Well Drinks, $4 23oz Domestic Drafts, $3 Shot Special, $2 Kamikaze Shots

TUES, 11/20

Ladies Night w/ DJ KING $2.50 You Call It's $2.50 Miller Lt, Coors Lt, Rolling Rock Bottles $3.50 Long Islands $2.50 Soco Lime & Kamikaze Shots

$2.50 Call Liquor $3 All Pints DJ Juan Trevino

Happy Hour: 3P.M. - 7P.M.! 9P.M. to 2am: $3.50 Dbl. Well Drinks, $4 23oz Domestic Drafts $3 Shot Special, $2 Kamikaze Shots

WED, 11/21

$2 Well Drinks $2.50 Bud & Bud Light Bottles $3 Bud Lt Platinum $3 White Gummy Bear Shots DJ BIG MIKE

1/2 Off Night DJ Juan Trevino

WING WEDNESDAY! $.45 WINGS! Happy Hour: 3P.M. - 7P.M.! 9P.M. to 2am: $3.50 Dbl. Well Drinks, $4 23oz Domestic Drafts, $3 Shot Special, $2 Kamikaze Shots

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Pint Day! $0.25 Off Pints of Labatt and Miller Light $.50 Off All Other Pints $3 Jack Daniels

$2 Domestic Bottles $3 Premium/Micro/Craft Bottles $4 Featured Martinis $2.50 Glasses of House Wine $6 1/2 Lbs. Cheeseburger & Falafurger Combo

MON, 11/19

Big Draft Day! $2.75 24oz Drafts Labatt and Miller Light | $3.70 24oz Drafts of Blue Moon and Sam Adams $4.90 24oz Drafts of Guiness

$3 Made-in-Michigan Beers (Bottles and Pints) $5 Off Bottles & $1 Off Glasses of All Our Made in Michigan Wines $6 Pitchers of Oasis Mai Tai's $3.50 Glasses of Oasis Mai Tai's $3 Off Select Appetizers

TUES, 11/20

Pitcher Day! $1.50 Off All Pitchers

WED, 11/21

THURSDAY: Ladies Night! Ladies Express Entry Line AND No Cover...All Night $3 Labatts, $3 Calls Late Night Hotcakes

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page 11

the black sheep mobile | for iphone & android

bartender of the week Tim s. peanut barrel Major: World Studies Nickname: Snorkleson Relationship Status: Not single Boxers or briefs?: Boxers Favorite “walks into a bar” joke: An Irish man walks into a bar and orders three pints. Best pick up line: There are no good pick lines. Parties or bars: Bars Who’s the worst person you’ve drunk dialed?: My mum.

the drinking game

Rockstar you want to party with: Jerry Garcia (but not just because he had a drug problem). Describe your typical customer: College-aged Long Island enthusiast Favorite drunk food: Chicken wings Personal theme song: The Muppets Favorite shot: Buttercrown (1/2 butterscotch schnapps, 1/2 Crown Royale) Bar pet peeve: Anyone who wants to argue

Recipe for Disaster

Blackout Friday

Meaty Fumble

Doesn’t going to the insanely crowded mall at 5 a.m. on Black Friday with every psychotic soccer mom in town sound like a hell of a good time? No, actually, it doesn’t. Going on a booze run, hitting up the mall around noon, and taking a swig every time some shopper does something nuts is so much better.

What’s better than some hot, cheesy, meaty dip to complement your favorite beer while watching your favorite football team? Nothing. Well, maybe a quickie during a commercial break, but that’s about it. Instead of letting all that meat and cheese go bad in your fridge and stink up your apartment, make a dip that will over-satisfy your produce and dairy cravings.

What You’ll Need: Beer or hard alcohol and something to conceal it in (unless you don’t mind those mall cops angrily chasing after you). Number of Players: In the spirit of the holidays, the more the merrier! Level of Intoxication: It’s called Blackout Friday…

What You’ll Need: One package of cream cheese, one container of sour cream, as much meat and cheese as you can handle, a cup of some type of chopped veggie topping (tomatoes or bell peppers are best), lettuce and a package of taco seasoning. Cook Time: 15 minutes. Fatty Factor: Oh, like you even care.

How To Play: Take a swig of booze every time… - You witness a fender bender in the parking lot. - You see some punk-ass kid get away with shoplifting something useless. - Two women get in a fight over the last item on the shelf. - A fed up sales associate quits after being hassled by crazies all morning. - You hear someone brag about how they have been shopping since 4 a.m. - You see a screaming child left in a shopping cart. - You see a boyfriend or husband that’s been stuck holding his woman’s purse. - You see someone frantically drinking Starbucks for more energy. Game Ends When: You’re too intoxicated to be in the mall any longer so you stumble to the nearest bar.

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Let’s Get Baked: - Combine cream cheese, sour cream, and taco seasoning. - Spread the mix at the bottom of a serving plate. - Take whatever meat you have in that nasty fridge of yours-- whether it’s pepperoni, ham, bologna, lamb chops, it doesn’t matter! Cover the mix with meat. - Take whatever cheese is in your fridge and cover the meat. - Make it somewhat healthy by adding a veggie topping and lettuce. - Sit back, relax, crack open an ice-cold beer, and shove you face with the meaty cheesy concoction. Make sure you are using fresh ingredients. You don’t want to vom from eating bad meat, you want to vom from eating too much good meat!

Hungry for More? theblacksheeponline.com

it’s turkey time!

Remember those amazingly hideous hand drawn turkey’s we loved to draw as a child? You know, where you traced your hand on a piece of paper, used the brown crayon to color inside the lines, and maybe add a sloppy beak? Well we rounded up some of our favorite imaginary tikes to check out their drawings, varying in personalities from extremely talented to extremely worrisome. By: Brendan and Quinn

The Future Serial Killer

The Hardcore A.D.D. Kid

What You’re Seeing: A perfect storm. A child with no regard for the feelings of other living creatures, an open willingness to act on these desires, and a lack of understanding of their wrongdoing - all in cutesy turkey form.

What You’re Seeing: “Teacher says I have to draw a turkey but did you know about airplanes? They go fast and so do lizards I like snakes so sometimes I draw snakes and this swirl means this finger is actually a portal to—hey, do you know who the 13th president was? It was Millard Fillmore, his name sounds like a duck, which is actually a mallard with an ‘I,’ did you know some lizards have three eyes, well they do and…”

Initial Reaction: “Oh look, Billy made us a cute drawing! Let’s put it on the refrig —Billy, give mommy the band saw.” This Kid’s Future: As Billy begins to mature, so will his art. In junior high he’ll master the human skeletal system, and be able to accurately sketch the different parts of the human skull, frenetically letting anyone within earshot know, “that the human skull is actually made up of fourteen bones fused together—the pterion is its weakest part!” In high school Billy will discover American Psycho, learning to quote it from memory. As he moves on to college, students on campus start to disappear. One day police will knock politely on his door, hearing a low, “Come in…” emanate from the other side. When they enter Billy will be joyously sitting in a kiddie pool full of blood, watching reruns of Ancient Aliens, waiting patiently to spend the rest of his life in the slammer.

Initial Reaction: “Well Thomas, this certainly is…some things on a piece of paper. Here, have some pills.” This Kid’s Future: After diagnosis and proper medication Tom lives a relatively normal life void of manic highs and crushing lows. As Tom’s parents leave him at college he vows to figure out life for himself, and begins weaning himself off of his pills. Some days things are brighter than they’ve ever been—other times he can’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. After a particularly crippling bout with self-loathing he decides to self-medicate with his roommate’s psychedelics stash, thus beginning a long-term love affair with the Grateful Dead. Eventually he starts following a Grateful Dead cover band around the country, drawing trippy caricatures of audience members for $5 a pop, or a hit of acid, whichever they prefer.

’

The Protege

What You’re Seeing: The genesis of genius. First, hand turkeys, then real turkeys, then jive turkeys, then the world! Initial Reaction: “Quick, are there any shady art schools that will accept hush money to get this kid into advanced classes like, right now?” This Kid’s Future: After Karen graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design at 16 she emancipated herself from her family to join a troupe of polyamorous artists on a voyage across the Sub-Saharan Africa. She changed her name from Karen to Sonoria, because that’s what her spirit sandwich told her to do. She finally ascends to the world’s stage in her early thirties, fulfilling her potential with the epic work, “We’re All the World’s Turkey,” in which she makes a statement on the globalization of genetically modified foods by duct taping rotten turkey carcasses to oversized globes. For this, she won a Nobel Prize.

The Early Puberty Little Asshole

The Refugee from a War-Torn Country

What You’re Seeing: Two weeks ago this kid discovered his little needle dick was capable of doing other things besides peeing. And now, the little bastard can’t get it out of his mind. Initial Reaction: “Wow you did a very nice job shading – wait a second… GET THAT DOWN FROM THE COCK I MEAN CORK BOARD NOW!” The Kid’s Future: He’ll grow taller than everyone in his class, and his mustache will sprout shortly after. Girls will be drawn to him, as he excels in youth football and isn’t shy to talk about his erection in public. He’ll start banging everything imaginable, from vacuums to pantyhose boxes to his grandma’s plastic couch. Nothing in the world matters anymore, sex becomes an obsession. In high school he gets into a habit of “hitting and quitting,” but since he entered the wonderful world of sexploration before being educated, he leaves a wake of disease yet to be encountered by mankind. You see, as he was humping away his adolescence, fungus combined from the couch, refrigerator, vacuum etc. into what will become the next Black Death. This kids is Patient Zero.

What You’re Seeing: This place has electricity and running water all the time? How does it get any better than this? Initial Reaction: “I’m—I’m crying because this is just so beautifully terrible!” This Kid’s Future: After getting the last flight out of Tripoli before shit really got real, Samir ended up living with his aunt and uncle as a refugee in the United States. His first Thanksgiving he’d never seen so much food—he’d swear he’d make the best life he could for him and his family. Years later he became a naturalized citizen, later becoming a outspoken community leader who really fuckin’ loves turkey.

The poor poor kid The fatty fat fat fat

The Kid Who Will Repeat Sixth Grade (Four Times)

What You’re Seeing: The wildest fantasies of a morbidly obese child come to life. This hand, with which I eat food, is now food? Initial Reaction: “Boy, take that paper out of your mouth. You know that’s not really food, right? The Kid’s Future: To ring in his 24th birthday Luther decided to hit up his local Taco Bell for their latest treat: The Cheesy Bacon Bean Bucket, 3,000 calories of maximum deliciousness. Exiting the store Luther began to sweat profusely, and he was forced to take a seat in the middle of the parking lot. Luckily, two paramedics in an ambulance were in the drive-thru lane, and they offered him their assistance. A brief jaunt to the hospital and several xrays later, it became apparent that young Luther would need extensive heart surgery to unblock some clogged arteries. He died during surgery. Luckily, his fatty body helped create some of the most delicious Soylent Green ever created.

What You’re Seeing: Hey, turkeys have eyes and mouths too, so this drawing isn’t all wrong, okay Picasso? Initial Reaction: “Sarah, this is a great drawing of…the Hamburger Helper mascot?” This Kid’s Future: At seventeen Sarah lost interest in the fate of Mr. Seuss’ green eggs and ham, so she decided to quit school, opting to try her hand in the workforce. After getting fired for trying to cook a steak in a tanning bed Sarah figured a life in the sex industry might be for her. She cashed her first paycheck from Brazzers -- which was for more money than she could count, literally—and she realized this was the life for her. After a few years of hardcore ATM, TAP, DA+DV, QLS, OFF and LRW she retired rich, happy and stupid to a trailer park in rural Alabama.

What You’re Seeing: “The assignment told us to use crayons but mom melted all our crayons and breathed in the smoke so I found some lead by the railroad, but then I lost my folder and it got lost in the grocery bag I use for a book bag. “ Initial Reaction: Well, he’s doing the best he can with what he’s given, but if his hand turkey is any indication of the turkey he’ll see on Thanksgiving, it looks like it’s going to be another year of Capri Suns and cigarettes for poor Jimmy. The Kid’s Future: Teachers will root for him as he does his best to attend as much school as he can. In high school he’ll drop out to take care of his younger siblings while logging a few online art classes at the local community college. Eventually he’ll knock up whatever else didn’t move on to college, instantly losing interest in each of his subsequent children. At one point his son will bring up a drawing of a turkey, but he’ll use it for a coffee coaster, telling Jimmy Junior all the turkeys are dead so they’re getting peanut butter for dinner again – but in the back of his mind he’ll remember his turkey, and how he too once dreamt of a career in art.

the search & find

Think you found everything in the Pleasantville Thanksgiving? Send an email to thanksgiving@theblacksheeponline.com, and let us know where it all is. If you're right, you'll win a prize!

the classtime

madlib: Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade 2130 1) Old person

“Hi there, and welcome to the 2130 Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade! I’m your host, robo-__1__. I’m here with my beautiful co-host of a revived corpse, __2__! Say ‘hello!’”

“And look what we have here, __10__! A float for the 137th installment of __11__ franchise! According to my notes, in this laugh riot the gang travels to the __12__ of the __13__ in order to get __14__— “Hello to all our viewers out there!’ To who was convicted of trafficking __15__ think, just a little over 100 years ago, I was to the world’s most powerful country, too busy __3__ to even eat a Thanksgiv- __16__—back to __17__ in time to __18__ ing dinner, now I’m hosting the parade!” his __19__. It’s a surefire blast!” “Enough with the introductions __4__, “Now here comes a classic—the turkey let’s take a look at what this parade has balloon! As it turns onto 6th Avenue it— Oh…oh god! Oh god, no! The turkey has to offer!” burst into flames! It’s beyond belief! Be“First up today is the wonderful __5__ bal- yond imagination! I can see celebrity balloon! Can you believe the company chose loon handler __20__ running for her life. to brand themselves with a __6__? The She—she’s not going to make it! Peocompany really took a turn for the worse ple are taking shelter in the brand-new __7__ years ago, when founder __8__ re- __21__ Building! This is a day that will live in infamy. Oh, the humanity!” vealed that he’s actually a __9__.”

2) Troubled celebrity 3) Illegal activity 4) Same as #2 5) Company 6) Weird logo 7) Number 8) Company founder 9) Weird thing 10) Same as #1 11) Movie franchise 12) Geographic feature 13) City 14) Character in #11’s movie 15) Illegal item 16) Country 17) Different country 18) Verb 19) Noun 20) Current famous person 21) Current up-and-coming company

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