Volume 11
The Black Sheep
SHO FREE! T AT LIKE THE A M END ELT Y OF JELL A TA -O ILG ATE .
The College Newspaper That's Actually About College
Issue 5
CAMPUS WIDE EPIDEMIC:
Waiting for the CATA Bus Will Literally Kill You Katelyn Hallup wrote this Tragedy has stricken campus, students have been dropping like flies and MSU is in total disarray! Why, you ask? The CATA bus system. Your day could start as any other. You wake up—flawless—and head down to catch the CATA bus. You love riding the bus, it’s so convenient, and you have total faith in the bus system. If there’s one thing you know for sure in life, it’s that this bus will be here on time. God bless CATA and God freakin’ bless America. You’ve been waiting for a while, not that long. Maybe about 10 minutes. Out of pure boredom you start reading the bus information that is displayed at the bus stop. Ah, yup. A bus comes every 7-10 minutes yup yup, yupperino; It should be here soon! It’s been 15 minutes... the bus driver must be running late. No worries, we all have those days man, he can take his time! You still have a little while before your class starts anyway. OKAY WHERE’S THE BUS. THIS IS NO LONGER A F****ING JOKE, MY CLASS STARTS IN 10 MINUTES, I AM NOT F***ING AROUND, A CATA BUS DRIVER BETTER SHOW UP HERE AND CARRY ME ON HIS SHOULDERS TO CLASS BECAUSE THIS IS SOME BULLSHIT. Maybe you should just walk. Hah, yeah, ever think of that one? Your class is like a half mile away you should totally just walk you big dummy, what are ya even thinking, just do it. Come on let’s go. But... what if the bus comes right after you leave? You would much rather ride the bus. And now you’ve been waiting for so long that you feel weak, dehydrated... You can’t walk in this condition, YOU NEED THE BUS. You start to feel like you can’t breathe... like a fish who’s been tossed from the water onto the dry, hot pavement of a bus stop. You’re lightheaded and begin to hallucinate. Visions of the CATA bus haunt you, tormenting you. Every large, white car you see fills you with hope that the bus is finally here! And it never is.
Shriveled up on the sidewalk, barely able to breathe, you gasp out the words, “WHY, CATA? WHYYY?” These will be your last words. You close your eyes and see the light approaching. This is it. You’re dying. Goodbye Mom, goodbye MSU, goodbye leftover Chinese food you had waiting in the fridge. It’s over. The light gets closer and closer and you have accepted your fate. You are ready to die at the hands of CATA. The last thing you see before you kick the bucket is the 33 pulling up to the bus stop, but alas it is too late. U ded.
This tragic story is all too common. A record number of students have reported “literally dying” while waiting for the CATA bus. Can you imagine the pain of waiting at a bus stop for 15, 20-- even 25 minutes. THE HORROR. Do more to protect yourself. Be alert, memorize the bus schedules in your area and you could save a life!
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LADY SPARTAN’S GAMEDAY WALK OF SHAME
WELLS HALL PREACHER DECLARES WAR ON PROFESSOR
IT HAPPENS TO THE BEST OF US, RIGHT?
SHIT IS STARTING TO GET VERY, VERY REAL.
You start to hear voices in your head, “STOP REQUESTED” “NEXT STOP, OLDS HALL AND THE MSU LIBRARY” “PLEASE EXIT FROM THE REAR DOOR” It’s all too much and you fall to the sidewalk in a crumpled heap.
If you’d like to donate to the “OMG I Literally Died and Was 5 Minutes Late for Class” awareness fund, contact us at: theblacksheeponline.com
THE A.P. RE-TEST CHALLENGE ONE COLLEGE SENIOR PUT UP AND SHUT UP WHILE RETAKING A HISTORY A.P. TEST. HOW DO YOU THINK YOU’D DO?
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Started heavy metal band Body Count.
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Spent many years in the Army.
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ON THE STREETS WHAT WAS THE LAST REGRETTABLE PURCHASE YOU MADE? Sam
“Menna’s.”
Alex
“A bus pass, I lost it the next day.”
Allison
“Taco Bell.”
06
MAD BREAKTHROUGHS, BRO
THE TOP TEN Types of MSU Confessions If you haven’t heard of the Twitter account “MSU Confessions,” you don’t have a Twitter, in which case you’re probably reading this article by candlelight in your horse-drawn buggy. If you have a Twitter, you’ve seen the typical types of confessions that pop up every time they release batches of “anonymous confessions” sent in by Spartans. Here are the Top 10 types of MSU Confessions in no particular order. 10.) The Grammatical Massacre: These confessions are so riddled with grammatical mistakes that the content of the confession itself is often overshadowed by their failure to grasp basic English rules. 9.) The Racist: Of course, making anything anonymous brings the real bigots out. The most common racist confessions are directed at our Asian friends for stunting all over campus in ridiculously expensive cars, most recently the driver of a (recently crashed) chromed-out Lambo.
New Religion Founded at MSU MSU Staff wrote this
Have you ever felt like you’re not a part of the Spartan community? Beginning this fall, exclusively in East Lansing, there will be a new organization for the followers of the Red Cedar Religion. The Red Cedarists, an organized cult hoping to bond together the scattered who believe in the gods of the Red Cedar, have finally been recognized by the TITSS (Treaty Involving Trustworthy Spiritual Services). This new organization welcomes all shapes and sizes, and is the first of collected group of Cedarists in the world. Cedarism has been around for years, but like The Walking Dead, some things will only stay underground for so long. Red Cedarists believe that if you honor the MSU greats, only good things will happen. They’ve taken “Love thy neighbor” and turned it into “Love thy Spartan.” Cedarists don’t give two shits if you’re O.J. Simpson, The Hamburglar, or a super-senior, they love anyone who flies the green and white. The main draw to Cedarism is the lack of bullshit. Instead of ten rules or a big book of shit trying to tell you stories, Cedarists live by one motto and stick to it: YOLO. Simple. Find an unopened bottle of Jack under your bed? It was obviously a sign from the many gods of Cedarism telling you to get wavy immediately. You’re thinking to yourself right now, “I thought it was Drake who told us the motto was YOLO?” Not to be technical, but Cedarism was around long before Drake shot out of his daddy’s dick, he was copying Cedarists, not the other way around. Breaking news: Drake might belong to Red Cedarism. Like Christianity, there are three main deities Cedarists worship: Joseph R. Williams, the first president of MSU, Magic Johnson, and Sparty. Why is Joe “Back Breaker” Williams in this trifecta? He made every student work three hours of manual labor a day to stay at MSU. This man had the balls to make his own students build his university. We must honor our Spartan Father, otherwise we might have ended up like that bastard of a school in Ann Arbor. Unlike most modern religions, Red Cedarism requires multiple rituals performed throughout the year. The most important of all the rituals is the yearly sacrifice. Cedarism does not require a goat or lamb sacrificed, rather one bike must be thrown into the Red Cedar River every September. The reason of why we throw bicycles into the river is a mystery, as the founder of the East Lansing chapter Troy Burke said, “I’ve got no clue, bruh. Shit’s weird, but every bike I’ve thrown has led to some chill vibes and chill babes all semester. I gots the faith.” We tried to get more from information form Troy, but he was having a “good trip” and wanted us to “mellow out with all the words.” There is a little bit of Red Cedarism in all of us. The old saying “Don’t knock it ’til you try it” would apply here, but the same saying applies to AIDS and heroin so we’re not going to go there. Now that they have been fully recognized as legit by the TITSS, expect to see the Cedarists rolling 20 deep with bitches on bitches through your hood.
8.) The Scumbag: These confessions are easy to spot— they involve someone doing something really shitty to someone else, usually their significant other. Ex: “Highlight of my year was going into my GF’s room and seeing her slutty roommate changing #dime”. These people make you feel good about peeing your roommate’s bed that one time. 7.) The Pity-Me: These desperate posts are usually about school-induced stressed or something mildly unfortunate that occurred. Breaking news: no one cares, we’ve all got parking tickets from P.A.C.E. and we’ve all been forced to cram for an exam. Quit Wolverining and get over it. (Wolverining: new term for whining). 6.) The Con-Freshion: Categorized exclusively by something only a freshman would say, such as, “The boys here need to grow some balls and actually talk to us girls” or “Been on campus a week and already lost my virginity and had a threesome. God I love MSU.” Yes freshmen, we’re all laughing at you. 5.) The Spoiler: “I made my girlfriend a candle-lit homemade dinner and bought her Tiffany earrings. This isn’t a confession I just love her so much.” Who cares? So what if the nicest thing we’ve ever done for a significant other is give them our Netflix password? What else do you really need? 4.) The Sexist: Most comments are from insecure dudes who think that the world is one big boobie-buffet tailored just for them. Example: “I stole a chick’s shot from Rick’s because I’m mad that girls can get free drinks but guys can’t #genderequality.” Girls buy guys drinks all the time, just not for guys who can’t even spell feminism. 3.) The Salty Sally: This is a confession by a lady about her ex(es), and it’s salty enough to taste. Example: “Thank you to my ex for dumping me a year ago. This is the happiest I have ever been in 19 years #blessed.” Nothing says “I’m not over it” like posting a confession on the one year anniversary of your dumping. 2.) The Drake: The counterpart of the Salty Sally, the Drake confession is typically from a dude caught up in his feelings by some girl who was out of his league and/or not interested. Drake confessors say things Drake would say, like, “I miss you and I want to start over” or “I just want to show you how beautiful you really are, but we don’t talk.” She knows how beautiful she is, that’s why you don’t talk. 1.) The Jersey Chaser: We don’t want to crush your dreams, but inside info tells us Mike Sadler is either taken or seeing someone hotter than you (or both). If you want the attention of a Spartan athlete, you better do something more than post a confession about them, they’re generally pretty distracted with winning. There they are, you drama-thirsty bloodhounds—the Top 10 kinds of confessions we’ve been graced with by @ MSU_Confess. We’re sure to get plenty more as long as lust, booze, and the Internet continue to exist. And in case you’re wondering, yes, everyone can tell which confessions are yours.
Alex Everard wrote this
TRADITIONS
lady spartan's
gameday walk of shame
T’was a bright Saturday morning for our Lady Spartan; always a lady in the streets, she decided for once to be a ‘Yonce in the sheets. To her despair, last night’s “Romeo” was not the Prince Charming rum made him out to be. “S’college” she said, trying to get dressed, hoping not to wake up the troll. She attempted to remember the night, despairing that the only footwear she had were five inch wedges from the night before. Unlucky for her, the beast awoke. “Hey Doll,” he winked. “Stay for our tailgate.” And then it dawned on our heroine—it was no ordinary Saturday morning. The streets were alive with tailgaters, making her walk home into a journey like never before. She checked her phone; it would take an hour for a cab. Instead of making small talk with the beast, she chose her only other option—to brave the streets of East Lansing. Lady Spartan hurried to the bathroom; after a splash of water, she tied up her hair and planned her exit. Dryly saying goodbye, our heroine tried to leave. “We should do that again,” the troll said eagerly. Nodding, she went on her way. Lady Spartan wondered how long it would take for the beast to realize he didn’t have her number. As the sun hit Lady Spartan’s eyes, she tried to map out her location. Of course she’d end up on Abbott, the farthest away from her castle on Hagadorn. She cursed the fifth of Fireball she’d downed the night before, beginning the long journey home. She knew it would be fraught with honking cars, day drunk alumni, and blaring
music. There was only one way our lady could approach this situation—with unadulterated confidence. She strutted her way down Grand River, avoiding the stares and dirty looks from soccer moms toting babies dressed in Michigan State cheerleading uniforms. She winked at parents, stopping to steal a slice pizza offered by star-struck peasants. “Stay confident,” she remembered from her Lady Spartan past. Shotgun that beer, flip that cup. Shouting “Go Green” at her fellow Spartans, our heroine braved the streets. Lady Spartan passed MAC, Albert, and the dreadful Cedar Village. She kept her head high and her heels higher, passing judgmental bitches who clearly didn’t get laid the night before. Maybe next time, she chuckled, passing many a freshman searching for free alcohol. When she hit the fraternity castles, she sped up her stride; nothing ruins a day more like screaming fratotaurs. Lady Spartan rolled her eyes as pledges squealed. As if. Before she knew it, our dear Lady Spartan was home. “Was a good night,” she thought, hopeful for many more ahead. Clean and with baggy pants, she settled to watch the game and toss back a beer. Walks home would be easier if girls didn’t care, she thought. She remembered to pass that knowledge to her future Lady Spartans. ‘Tis the tale of Lady Spartan, our own Joan of Arc. (Okay, maybe not that serious. But hey, any girl should look up to her on their stride of pride. )
Danielle Jacosalem wrote this
THE JOURNAL OF A
First-Time Nude Model Justin Sienkowski wrote this
We obtained the journal of sophomore Cody Wheeler, a nude model for the MSU College of Arts and Letters. In it, he describes his first experience baring it all for money. Friday, 8:45 a.m.: Screw this shit. It’s too damn early. Screw this alarm clock for waking me up. Who the hell does he think he is? This isn’t even worth the money, I should just go back to sleep. 9 a.m.: Shit, coffee is awesome. I’m not even tired. I should definitely go shave my pubes before I go do this, though. I mean, they never explicitly said in the interview that I needed to, but it’ll make my dick look bigger if it’s not hidden in a jungle of genital hair. 9:12 a.m.: Contemplated shaving the Spartan head logo into my pubes. Decided against it. Maybe another time. Now to the shower. 9:27 a.m.: Successfully abstained from
06
masturbating in the shower for the first time this week. Little Cody will be at full force for this shindig. 9:45 a.m.: Am now en route to Kresge. When roommate asked where I was headed, I responded with “nowhere.” 10 a.m.: Got there and hit up the restroom before I entered the class. Not 100% sure that I wiped my ass sufficiently, but there’s no turning back now. Maybe these artsy folks are into that kind of thing anyway; it gives their drawings “character”. 10:02 a.m.: Instructor begins setting up the stage. Are the spotlights really necessary? I wouldn’t want anyone or anything getting stage fright now. 10:05 a.m.: Just removed all clothing. I accidently brushed my junk across a student’s backpack on the way to the stage; I guess you could say our sacks touched.
10:12 a.m.: Was not anticipating how cold it would be in here. Instructor brings me a small portable heater and points it directly at my crotch. It was like he was trying to coax my wiener out like Grandma does when her cat won’t come out from under the bed. Also, can’t believe I just used “wiener” and “grandma” in the same sentence. 10:25 a.m.: Starting to settle in now. This is actually kind of nice; it gives me some quality time to contemplate some important things. Maybe it’s because I’m in the Thinker pose.
make MSU Party Stories profile pic for sure. I retract my previous statement; I need to befriend one of these guys.
10: 26 a.m.: How are they not laughing when drawing the penis? I mean there’s nothing wrong with mine, but like come on, not even a smirk? This is why I could never be friends with an art major.
10: 45 a.m.: They just made me change into some kind of power stance, and gave me a big wooden staff to hold. I am now a nude Moses parting the sea of future caricature artists.
10: 34 a.m.: Do you think when an art major’s friend passes out they draw a lifelike wang on their face? That would
10:55 a.m.: Seriously thinking about winking at that dime over in the corner. She has had her eyes on my prize the entire time. I don’t know, still
feels kinda creepy. 11:02 a.m.: Class just ended, and the clothes have been returned to my body. 11: 03 a.m.: This kid’s drawing is awful. There is no way my pecs are that small. I’ll flex throughout next time. 11:05 a.m.: Oh god, what are they doing? Why are they hanging them up in the hallway? Memo: Devise latenight break-in of Kresge.
AROUND CAMPUS PAGE 7 • THEBLACKSHEEPONLINE.COM
Letter to MSU: Your Bathrooms Are Terrible Baer Woods wrote this
Dear Michigan State University, Your bathrooms are an abomination and a disgrace to us all. How are you letting this happen? Have you tried to use the porcelain throne here, like, ever? It’s a nightmare. Here’s a breakdown of the average student trying to use these literal shit-holes: “Can I make it back to my Cedar Village apartment? Nope. Dammit, where is the closest place to drop this deuce? Snyder? Alright, cool, maybe I can grab some food after.” So you turtle-head your way over there, and the fun just doesn’t stop.
Quarter page ad = 5” w X 5.5” h
“Thank God, there’s no one in here. Son of a bitch. I don’t get service in here. Well, let’s turn on this Wi-Fi. Jesus H. Christ. The Wi-Fi doesn’t work either? Was this bathroom designed to be a nuclear bomb shelter as well? Is there any need for these walls to be this thick? I might as well be pooping in an outhouse in the
Wild West with this service. Let’s just get this over with so I can actually go back to the real world. Shit, did someone just walk in on me shitting? Can I get some privacy for five minutes? Is that too much to ask for?” But even when you’re done the nightmare still continues. “What the Hell? Single-ply toilet paper? I’m paying $20,000 for a piece of paper and this godforsaken school can’t splurge for some Charmin? I bet Tom Izzo and Mark Dantonio’s offices don’t use fuckin’ single-ply toilet paper. Jesus. I actually feel worse than I did pre-shit. Freaking Snyder, I’m never coming back here, no matter how good that delicious pub menu is.” Michigan State Administration, all we want to do is check Twitter and use a butt-wiping material that is just a little bit better than sandpaper. It’s not too much to ask for. But if it is, here are some suggestions that can make the lives of
students a little bit better: Newspaper Racks: Case Hall has ‘em, why not everywhere else? If your Wi-Fi isn’t going to extend to the bathrooms then the least you can do is put a newspaper rack with some papers in the bathrooms so students can have something to do while we relieve ourselves. We don’t even care if it’s The State News, just give us something. Music: Put some speakers and play the radio in the bathrooms. Literally any station. Anything to make this process seem like it’s going by faster would be helpful. Dry Erase Boards on the Stall Doors: This is a great way to make new friends or advertise clubs, and it’s environmentally friendly without all the flyers being put up. We’re already a green school, why not make it an environmentally green school? Some Sort of Video Screen: Just have
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the Rose Bowl and Big Ten Championship game playing on repeat. Students will love it enough to think you might actually care about us. Plus, you can edit out the commercial and have people pay for their own advertisements so you can actually afford decent toilet paper. Personalized Messages from Sparty Cheering Us On: Sometimes we aren’t having the best day and need a little pick me up. So how about a system where we can type in your PID and have a little
video from Sparty where he’s say how we’re an inspiration and that every day we can make a difference. We’d use that stall for sure. Your shit-shacks are a disgrace, Michigan State. We know you’re ashamed of it, but you can fix it. We don’t ask for much, so now is your chance to step up and do the right thing. We know you have it in you. Yours Truly, The Student Body
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PAGE 10 • HEBLACKSHEEPONLINE.COM
LOCAL NEWS
Wells Hall Preacher Declares War on Professor Lauren Masek wrote this
When elderly professor Jeffrey Bouchard started teaching ENG 342, he never would have guessed that he would be subjected to a war with the most notorious dick on MSU’s campus. He just wanted to give the hip, young people something interesting to read that would actually keep their attention. In other words, sex and terrible writing. “I decided to assign these youngsters the Twilight series, 50 Shades of Grey, and Naked,” Bouchard told The Black Sheep. But this kind of endeavor was exactly what would be the end of him. One afternoon during a lecture where he was fawning over a detailed description of Christian Grey’s chiseled abs, Bouchard couldn’t stop mentioning just how arousing the whole novel was. Little did he know that the Wells Hall Preacher was passing by the open door to his classroom, sipping on a Holier-Than-Thou smoothie from Starbucks. The conversation caught the preacher’s ear. “I quickly realized that it was a class of sin and I knew from that moment on that they were all going to Hell!” said the Preacher between telling passersby that they were going to rot in Hell for wearing shorts. “The professor said ‘aroused’ at least ten times before my smoothie ran out, and I knew that it must be put to an end! Bouchard has to be stopped!” It only took a week for the Wells Hall Preacher to execture his plan. He burst into Bouchard’s
classroom in Wells Hall with many members of MSU’s own Christians Against Sex And Other Fun Things club. They thrust their picket signs in the faces of students who had signed up for the class long before the topic and books had been assigned. They shouted their Bible verses as if they actually meant something to the English students, who believed in a much higher power — literature. “Sinners! How can you sit here and idly chat about penises, vaginas, and bondage? Don’t you understand that fornication is but the gateway to more dangerous past times? For example: voting Democrat and letting Kenyans be President of the United States,“ the Preacher proclaimed to the class. He then proceeded to go around the room and tell everyone the exact reason they were going to Hell. This resulted in Professor Bouchard, who was just getting tired of the Preacher’s shit, punching him square in that smug face of his. “It was amazing!” said Erin Waters, an English student in her senior year at MSU. “Professor Bouchard did what everyone else on campus has wanted to do since that devil set foot here.” While those in the class were cheering, members of the Christians Against Sex And Other Fun Things were sprinting as fast as their little self-righteous legs could carry them out of Wells Hall and back to their hate-filled dorm rooms.
The Wells Hall Preacher wasn’t as easily discouraged. He began to spout Bible verses at the professor, but old man Bouchard was having none of that. He simply called campus police and let those cops take care of something that wasn’t underage drinking and public intoxication for
once. The preacher looked at the professor through his sprouting shiner and horribly skewed moral compass, shouting, “This isn’t over yet!” As he was dragged off to the police car, he vowed vengeance on the professor. His final words were, “It shall be mine!”
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BARTENDER of the WEEK Relationship Status: Taken Major: Finished with Forestry Favorite Drink: Red’s Rye IPA Favorite Shot: Jäger Disgusting Drink: Long Islands What’s next up after the Fireball craze dies down?: All kinds of bombs.
What sounds like a nickname for a penis, but isn’t a nickname for a penis?: Cockroach When were you most embarrassed to find yourself crying?: Watching The Notebook. To whom do you most want to whisper, “Bathroom, five minutes.”?: My girlfriend.
What’s the oddest thing you’ve ever had a drink out of?: A shoe.
So, I’ve got the cash—where’s the blow?: I have to consult my attorney first.
Your least favorite swear word is?: I like ‘em all.
Why should people read The Black Sheep?: ‘Cuz it’s funny.
PHIL of WOODY’S THE DRINKING GAME
RECIPE FOR DISASTER
SHOT FOR ARREST
YUM GUM
It’s a shame to let the recent surge of NFL scandals and player arrests go to waste. After all, it’s the illegal activity of the NFL that can bring football fans and people who watch football solely for the commercials together.
Have you ever been stuck in lecture and had the most terrible taste in your mouth but no gum? Only five minutes earlier, your hand accidentally slid over a piece of dried gum under your desk. You think to yourself, “That would work, but I bet it’s pretty stale by now.” Make that ABC gum turn into YUM gum with a few quick tricks:
What You’ll Need: A handle and corrupt NFL players. Good news: There’s an abundance of both! Number of Players: As many as you can fit in your living room to watch the game on Sunday afternoon. Level of Intoxication: You’ll be wishing football was outlawed in the United States. How to Play: Drink when: - A player’s actions make you want to hold your child tight. - A player’s crimes make you want to hold your partner tight. - TMZ says they have exclusive footage of wrongdoings that you should be repulsed by, but you stream during class anyway. - You wonder if football players keep football helmets in their cars now to show cops who they are when they get pulled over for drugs and alcohol. - A player spikes a football on the turf for a touchdown and you find yourself relieved that it’s not someone’s face. - USA Today creates a database of all the arrests of NFL players in the 2000s. (This actually exists.) - The names of football teams start to sound too domineering when you replace “-er” with “-her.” Examples: Raidhers, Steelhers, Packhers. The Game Ends When: Football season ends and you’re happy to see happy-go-lucky comradery during baseball season.
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What You’ll Need: Old gum stuck under a desk, stuck to the sidewalk, or stuck to some other stationary object in a public space, sprinkles, as well as regular and sour Skittles. Fatty Factor: Zero calories, unless you’re a gum swallower. In that case, you’re probably going to die from a clogged poophole, so you’ve got bigger problems, mister. Let’s Get Baked: - Steal a paint scraper from your apartment complex’s maintenance staff. - Scrape gum away from the desk/sidewalk/other public space without drawing attention to yourself. Scream that Chipotle is giving away free burrito bowls or moon everyone while you bend over to scrape the gum. - Massage the gum in your hands to make it soft. Pretend it’s old Playdoh; it feels and tastes the same Give it Some Flavor: - Add sprinkles if you want a crunch to help the gum seem chewier. - Regular and/or sour Skittles, depending on what the gum was stuck to. If it was under a desk, the gum probably sucked in a sweet, mahogany taste – regular Skittles will do just fine here. If it’s on the sidewalk and a bit more tart from dirt, sour Skittles are a better fit Never pay for gum again! Be green and reduce, reuse, rechew.
NOMNOMNOM AT THEBLACKSHEEPONLINE.COM
Many of us took A.P. exams in high school. It was an awful experience that we have only recently recovered from. But did anyone actually learn anything in these courses? And would you remember the material now if you had to take it again?
THE A.P. RE-TEST CHALLENGE DAN COLLINS WROTE THIS
With the use of Learnerator.com, I, a senior in college and member of The Black Sheep, will take a practice test for the A.P. U.S. History exam. I took this same exam five years ago as a junior in high school, so we’ll see if my rapidly-deteriorating brain has retained anything.
THE A.P. RE-TEST CHALLENGE
MY EXPECTATION:
I won’t retain anything. I’ll come out of this test on top of my shield, having been devoured and impaled on a Draconian spike.
Keep in my mind: This A.P. exam is broken into two parts, but, as I do not have a certified A.P. grader with me, I will only be attempting the first part, which is 80 multiple choice questions with a time limit of 55 minutes. I assume high school students aren’t allowed to listen to music while they take their test, but that simply isn’t happening, as I would like for my sanity to remain intact. In 2013, in order to receive a 5 on this test, you needed to correctly answer 61% of the questions. I will be recording some of my thoughts as I go along.
15 Questions In: A poem! Are you fucking kidding me? This is supposed to be a history test. 22 Questions in: Who in the hell is Ida B. Wells?
Pre Test: I feel pretty good. I got a 5 on this test in high school and now I’m older and wis—well definitely older. Sure, I don’t really feel like I’ve learned much in college, and drinking supposedly kills tons of brain cells, but I can’t be dumber than the kids who lowered the curve to the point that a 61% merits a 5. Kids these days are so dumb. That’s probably why standardized tests keep getting easier every year. I’m a little bit nervous, but that’s normal before you take a test that has absolutely no bearing on your life at all. 5 Questions In: Disregard everything I said before. This is completely unfair. The high school kids who took this test had a whole year of the class to prepare for it and I haven’t taken a single U.S. History class in college. Plus, they have evolution on their side. How am I supposed to compete with these genetically engineered super-beings when I’m just a normal person? That’s like the first scene in Troy where Brad Pitt kills that huge guy, but instead of a huge guy, I’m just some dope.
33 Questions in: I’m close to halfway and I have answered, at most, five questions with confidence. I don’t know what happened. I used to be smart (sort of ). At the time I took this test, I was probably as smart as I’ll ever be. That was the high point of my life; the peak. It’s all downhill from here. Now I know how Alex Moran felt in that one episode of Blue Mountain State. What happened to me? Well, I started drinking much more heavily after high school. That can’t have helped. I guess doing the bare minimum to pass classes in college isn’t making me any smarter. 61% seems like it would be a miracle at this point. 37 Questions in: I quit. 50 Questions In: This is an absolute nightmare. I’m so stupid, it’s pathetic. I’m practically answering at random right now. I need to do a Billy Madison or something. Two weeks in each grade. Easy. He seemed to have a really good time with it. And if I could find a Veronica Vaughn for myself, my life would be perfect. That movie was awesome. I wonder what actor played the giant penguin. Do you think he mentions that at parties when he meets people and they ask him what he does? I’ll see if IMDb says anything about it. Shit, I have to get back to the test. I guess my knowledge of 19th century Supreme Court Cases has proven inadequate. 14 Questions In: This doesn’t even resemble the test I took five years ago. It’s all quotes from old, racist documents and equally racist maps. There hasn’t been any factual information at all yet. And why is there so much about Spanish settlement in Mexico and South America? That’s not even U.S. History! This test is a ruse to make me look dumb, and it’s working. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt any dumber than I do right now. Well, maybe that time I got caught trying to steal condoms because I was too embarrassed to buy them in high school. It was fine, though, I didn’t need them then, but I think I need one now because this test is buttfucking me.
QUESTIONS ANSWERED 80
52 Questions In: What am I thinking? That could never work. They would never let Billy Madison happen today. A grown man in an elementary school would never be allowed. The movie wouldn’t even work because everyone would assume he was a pedophile and ruin it. Add that to the list of things that pedophiles ruined for all of us, like being able to use the bathroom at an elementary school, or going to your little sister’s soccer game alone, or becoming an ice cream man. Assholes. Why doesn’t the ice cream man do business in college towns? I bet they’d make a killing. 76 Questions In: I can see it. The finish line. It’s waiting there for me…and it’s glorious. Now I know how Harold and Kumar felt when they finally got within four multiple-choice questions of White Castle, but I’m far less high. When I finish this exam, I’m going to call my girlfriend and tell her I love her. Well, I don’t have a girlfriend, but maybe I’ll tell some random girl I walk by that I love her. People love it when you do that.
QUESTIONS ANSWERED CORRECTLY 42
ACCURANCY % 52
THE RESULTS:
POST-TEST:
I answered 42 of the 80 questions correctly, falling 7 short of my goal of 61%. In a way, I was right; I am embarrassed to tell you my score. It almost makes up for the fact that I am a moron who peaked at 17. But yeah, the test was really difficult. I feel like I just got taken behind a shed and deloused. I always thought my seventh grade English teacher was wrong when she told me I was lazy and would never amount to anything, but it turns out she was spot on. Maybe I should call her and apologize for egging her house so many times. Maybe with enough therapy I can convince myself that it’s because of what she said that I ended up offering sexual favors in exchange for drugs, because that seems to be where I’m headed. I’m practically sprinting there.
I think I have ADD. Did you see how many times I got sidetracked? Maybe if I show this to a doctor, he’ll prescribe me Adderall. It’s like steroids, but for your brain. I can’t wait to start selling th… I mean taking them, so as to cure my horrible attention deficit disorder. Wow, the American education system has really let me down.
THE A.P. RE-TEST CHALLENGE
PAGE 14 • THEBLACKSHEEPONLINE.COM
WHERE’S WILSON?
Castaway: Hubbard Edition Victoria Martin wrote this
It was 5 minutes before 8:00 p.m., the hour that Hubbard caf closes. I was just finishing up my last episode of Entourage but lost track of time sending Snapchats of my balls to my friends. Then it happened. It was 7:58 p.m. so I booked it down the hallway. I was too late. As I stood like a limp noodle, my hands gripping the metal bars that closed off the caf doors, I looked back at my mistakes. Was it worth it? Was. It. Worth. It? Sept. 4th, 8:45 p.m.: It’s been 45 minutes since my life fell apart. I spent my last $1.25 on a bag of Cheetos that neither satisfied my hunger nor absolved me of my disgrace and shame. Determined to find a solution, I reached deep into the part of my brain that housed the tattered and forgotten oblivion of useless information and sought out my Boy Scout survival skills to assess the shit I was in. For the first time since that wedgie that hospitalized me back in 03’, I put on my Scout vest and recited the STOP method: Stop, Think, Observe, Plan.
hours as a warning to survivors. Haven’t poured my thoughts onto paper since that day in second grade after Mike kicked me in the face because I cut in line during the 4-square tournament at recess. What a tragic end to our playground friendship. Sept. 4th, 10:16 p.m.: I am fine. I’m not even hungry. I’ll probably, like, just get some homework done and get an early night. Sleep will be good for me anyway. I’m not hungry. Whatever. It’s all good. Sept. 4th, 10:17 p.m.: This is some bullshit. WWZD: What Would Zeke Do?
Sept. 4th, 9:06 p.m.: The STOP method did nothing. I am truly screwed.
Sept. 4th, 11:20 p.m.: People warned me about the terrible mistakes that I could make living on my own as a college student. Failing class, MIPs, trying to sex my way out of a parking ticket with a PACE officer. I never thought the consequences could be this bad. I grab the edge of my rusted dorm sink and stare into the mirror. Look at yourself, look at who you’ve become. That high-five Sparty gave me at AOP, I didn’t deserve that. I failed him. I’ve failed us all.
Sept. 4th, 10:11 p.m.: My god I’m dying. This is what dying feels like. I’ve decided to record my final
Sept. 4th, 11:20 p.m.: My body is weak. Time doesn’t matter anymore. I have written my will and
my roommate gets nothing – he drank my water bottle of vodka and replaced it with sink water. Sept. 5th, 12:03 a.m.: THE GODS HAVE LOOKED UPON ME WITH MERCY. Billy just drunkenly stumbled in, like a baby giraffe in roller skates, with a pizza from Cottage Inn! Billy, Billy boy! You can have all my water bottle vodka! Oh, I shouldn’t have doubted you, you magnificent bastard! This orgasmic circle of joy had it all: pepperonis, feta
cheese, olives, green peppers, friggin’ bacon and cheese, so much cheese. It had me feelin’ some type of way. I am a survivor. Sept. 5th, 12:45 a.m.: In the end, I ultimately triumphed over the madness that is first world starvation and reveled in victory as I violently consumed the entire pizza. Unsurprisingly, I came out of this journey no more mature than when I began.
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THE SCARY SSSSNAKES CROSSWORD Across: 1) Named after a common house pet, M’eow? 5) The Joakim Noah snake. 6) This snake is named after something smaller and squirmier; think bird food. 7) This one commands legions of loyal followers with its cool hood and venomous bite. 8) A bride-to-be may wear one of these bad boys on her leg. 9) Flex this big bad snake after you get pumped in the gym. 11) These snakes ain’t seein’ shit. 14) This rattler shares a symptom with many a stoner. 16) Kobe Bryant nicknamed himself after this snake.
4) Blue plus yellow and you have yourself this kind of snake. 5) A creatively-named snake with black stripes. 10) If this snake was a chess piece, it could move one space in any direction. 12) Pop on some feathers and wear one to the fanciest ball in town. 13) Kind of like slippers, but more Native-American, we suppose. 15) This snake shares a name with something found in the Great Barrier Reef. 17) We’re guessing this snake doesn’t do a body good.
Down: 2) Ice Cube and Jon Voight once starred in a move featuring this fearsome Amazon constrictor. 3) This snake loves one of them southern boils with tiny lobster cousins.
15
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