The Black Sheep
FR Po EE... pe lik jo e t ke he so s n tal yo e re ur Tw peti itt tio er n o fee f d.
• a college newspaper that’s actually about college •
Volume 8, Issue 6 • 2/13/13 - 2/20/13
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1993: Black (Sheep) to The Future Alex Everard wrote this
You may be under the impression that all of the great discoveries have already been made by people like Indiana Jones, Dr. Scientists, and your friend who always sends you Spotify playlists with surprisingly good indie music on them. You might also be under the impression that the 1990s were simply full of superb cartoons, Kurt Cobain suicides, and the whitest clothing since the Victorian era (e.g. Tupac in a Red Wings jersey). However, The Black Sheep stumbled upon a time capsule last week during our naked midnight ritual meeting in the basement of Williams Hall. It was marked “February 22th, 1993: Do not open for 20 years or until WiFi is invented.” Inside: a letter, signed by the original MSU Black Sheep writers: It’s ’93 and we’re sipping some Surge and vodka during The Black Sheep’s sixth ever meeting here in the basement of Williams Hall. If you’re reading this in the future, let us first say this: Williams Hall is still old as hell, even in the past. That being said, let us, like, break it down real quick. Life in 1993 at Michigan State University is completely off the chain. Not sure what computer animation is like in the future, but it cannot get much doper than what we just witnessed: Jurassic Park be-otch! We all paged each other to meet up at my house, blazed, like, two fattie joints, and chilled-out to the rad new Radiohead album Pablo Honey in my Aerostar on the way to the show. We all agree that Radiohead will definitely still be chronic in, like, twenty to fifty years or whatever. In case you future-Spartans are wondering, we opened a can of whoop-ass on Michigan in Spartan Stadium on October 9th—17-7. It was the bomb-diggity, future home-slices, but the stadium could totally use some renovations, more vulgar chants, and maybe a gigantic scoreboard or three. Brent Musburger announced the game and we all figure it shouldn’t be too long now before he dies, probably. Shouldn’t be too long before we can stop listening to him. Hopefully you guys stop pooping in your diapers like you’re doing as we write this and figure out how to make higher education affordable, because the $125/credit hour we’re paying now is wiggity-whack. We’re sure by the year 2000 everything will be for the low, ya know, cuz of computers, the World Wide Web, and Fresh Princes ruling each and every country. Also, if Taco Bell discontinues the Chicken Caesar Grilled Stuft Burrito, well, that’s hella weak and we will totally regret voting for all-around cool guy/sexy saxophone player Bill Clinton. That vote just made sense, he just seems, well, way more fun than George Bush or Ross Perot, ya know, homes? Like Clinton’s kind of dude who truly knows how to appreciate the finer things in life, like cigars, free trade, and a good blowjob where you finish all over the girl’s dress.
Iron Chef: College Edition Only ingredient: hot pockets. Secret ingredient: more hot pockets.
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Anyway, something else you infants will need to take care of is our national debt—$4.351 Billion is off the chizz-ain. Yeah, we’re too old, kiddies; it’s your problem now.
now, we’ve gotta go plan Cedar Fest and eat boxes of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cereal and curly-fries with green & purple ketchup! GREEN KETCHUP – CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?”
Hmm, what else… Michael Jordan just retired to play baseball and we’re sure that’s a move he totally won’t regret at all. In fact, MJ is going to head to the minors, but it won’t be long before he works up the ranks and is dominating just like he did in the NBA! Oh, and by the way, not sure what the babe-situation is like the future, but Miss USA is from Michigan and yes—she rocks the hell out of a scrunchie.
Peace, Love, and Marky Mark,
Well, that pretty much sums up everything cool going on right
what'’s inside
Mental Warfare: Waking up For Class You will to go to class against your apathy. This match was over before started.
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Black Sheep ‘93 Looks like our founding fathers were pretty chill bros. We tried emailing them back at 1993Blacksheepteam@ theblacksheeponline.com, but all we got back were pictures of red pubic hair. Weird, but we’re going to keep digging for more time capsules anyway! Look out, TBSYTK, we’re coming for you!
An Open Letter… To that guy whose crotch Garrison accidentally grabbed on the bus.
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page three ! k e e W e h t f o c i P word of the week Bartition:
The four-deep line of people separating you from the bartender. “Damn this bartition! If I don’t get a gin and tonic pronto I’m going to have to sleep with that uggo sober.”
Meet The Staff
campus manager Justin Gawel
Advertising ManagerS Andrew Meggert, Daniela Pittiglio Nicole Maks, Danan Thomas, Andrew Rickerman Writers Alex Everard, Cody Manthei Phillip Keller, Hannah Borland Zoe Kremke, Garrison Rasmusen Andrew Rickerman, Zach Wyrzykowski, Jess Martinelli, Meg Enter Thomas Stewart distribution manager Garrison Rasmusen social media manager Alex Everard
pR Team Crysta Harper, Adelaine Lazzell Kelsey Roseman, Jordan Sweat
photographers Bailey Paskiewicz, Leslie Spector campus director Quinn Myers owner Atish Doshi Questions? info@theblacksheeponline.com Advertising? ads@theblacksheeponline.com 608-712-0900
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 Spartying Dead Zach Wyrzykowski wrote this February 13th, 2012: The wind whistles through the pines as the sun comes up over the Red Cedar, beginning another bloodsoaked day. I’ve barricaded myself in my dorm and I’ve been living off of my long-zombified roommate’s vast stores of ramen and Funyuns. I prepare to start another day of hiding in the dark and shagging Manti Te’o’s girlfriend (i.e. my hand) when shotgun blasts ring out across Brody Square. I peek through the blinds to see Lou Anna K. sprinting across the courtyard, blasting zombie heads with each shot. Seconds later, I hear a knock on the door. Before I can answer it, the wood splinters, and Simon’s jack-booted foot crashes through the woodwork. Covered in gory remains, she lowers her sunglasses before barking, “You Wyrzykowski?” I wordlessly nod. “I read your article about the Miss Greek contest,” she continues, leveling her shotgun towards me. “I was not amused.” I barely have time to duck before the window behind me explodes in a shower of broken glass. Before she has time to reload, I sail through the window, figuring I’d rather take my chances with the walkers than the Simonator. Barreling across the lawn, I stumble over the body of a headless campus police officer. I reach for his gun, only to discover that it’s made of wood. I continue on to the Breslin Center, hoping to find some temporary refuge from the ghouls. After picking up a crow bar, I move quietly, dodging behind cars to avoid the lidless stares of the dead around me. Unfortunately, having the grace of a dead elephant, I merely succeed in setting off several car alarms in the process. I manage to escape the parking lot, only to see a student calmly walking past a horde of the living dead. I’m baffled as to why none of the zombies are trying to dig in to his pale, soft flesh until I see
his JMC hat and satchel. Instantly I understand why he seems too self-absorbed to notice the carnage around him. I also understand why none of the corpses are trying to eat him: zombies only eat meat, and this guy is clearly full of shit. I continue my trek to find safety, and am relieved to come across a group of survivors. Their leader, a man so handsome he’s almost pretty, comes forward. He offers to give me food, shelter, and weapons if I join their group. The offer is tempting, but as I reach out to shake his hand, a stack of bound newspapers falls out of his backpack. I notice the preppy logo of the State News emblazoned on their headings, and quickly withdraw my hand. They couldn’t pay me in artisan handjobs to join their group. Our logo may have been drawn by a six-year-old with MS Paint and we may have less funding than a women’s football team, but not one of our staff could be described as “pretty.” Except our women, who write hard and party harder. Paper rivalry aside, I set off in the opposite direction (I learned later their group became too intent on ritualistic self-masturbatory circles, which ultimately led to their demise). It wasn’t long before I spotted a lone zombie, stumbling along near the Red Cedar. I decided it was now or never, and crept up behind him, raising my crowbar. Just as I was about to cave his undead skull in, he turned and saw me. Instead of releasing a raspy howl as zombies are wont to do, he raised his arms and yelled, “Back off, man!” A little stunned at first, I decided this must be some kind of zombie trick and made ready to strike. Unfortunately, the ghoul only kicked me and told me to fuck off. After dusting myself off, the zombie manchild and I had a tense conversation in which I learned something important…
As it turned out, most of the undead weren’t actually undead. Apparently some InsideMSU tourists had mistaken the shambling, dead-eyed, off-duty cafeteria workers for zombies, and adopted the “can’t beat them, join them” mentality. This led to most of campus willingly zombifying in a matter of minutes. The few students that had not fallen prey to this mass hysteria were tripping balls anyway, and fit right in with the shambling masses. Before I could glean any more information from the young conformist, his head exploded into a cloud of brains and skull fragments. From out of the bushes emerged Lou Anna, who had tracked me down at last. I thought quickly, and explained to her that there were no zombies, just students pretending to be them. She adjusted her Aviators, raised her weapon, and sneered, “I know.”
Iron Chef: College Edition Andrew Rickerman wrote this Brady Hoke: Good evening, everyone! Welcome to Iron Chef: College Edition! You may be wondering how I’m qualified to host such a prestigious show, but when it comes to incoherently blabbering on screen and downing grease-ridden food, my credentials of having a low IQ and high BMI are unmatched!
Emeril’s Thick & Creamy Italian Dressing later? BAM!
Let’s meet our contestants for tonight’s show. Representing our first collegiate of the Iron Chefs is Chef Vinny. Vinny is a Spartan and comes from an Italian background. He has a history of experimenting with Parmesan Cheez-Its, Zesty Garlic Slim Jims, and Easy Mac – all together, of course. His challenger tonight, representing Northern Michigan University, goes by the name of Billy. He hails from the Upper Peninsula, a land of pasties and optional “teeth scrubbin’.”
Hoke: Settle down, everyone. Let’s check on Billy. What do ya have in that trash bag, son?
Before we begin, let’s meet the judges: lover of corny one-liners and all things buttered, Guy Fieri. At the other end of the table is some annoying Italian guy, Emeril Lasagna– or something. And finally, our celebrity judge, the dignified Lou Anna K. Simon. Lou Anna: God damn I’m TURNT UP! Is this the Okemos Applebee’s again? I’ll take the “Two for $20” deal. Hoke: Sheesh, when they told me every girl at State knew how to party, I didn’t know they meant EVERY SINGLE ONE. Lou Anna, I like your style. What are you doing aft— (camera swings to Lou Anna, who is passed out, upright). Never mind, let’s get this rollin’! Competitors, you have one hour to create your “meal”… Begin! (Competitors run to their stations.) Fieri: Looks like Vinny’s goin’ for the Pepperoni Hot Pockets. Holy stromboli, he’s really trying to wow us with his Mediterranean influence. Lou Anna: Shit yeah, he is. Now all he needs to do is douse those babies in some ranch. Meijer brand, wh-what! Emeril: Jesus, who in the hell invited dis broad? Can’t hold her liquor worth a damn. Hey, girl, you seem sauced, wanna marinate in some of
Lou Anna: Ha! I’ve heard better puns than that in that terrible “newspaper” named after a Chris Farley movie, The Black Sheep. Plus you look like a shorter, fatter Tony Soprano.
Billy: Oh, dontcha know? I didn’t have no idea what to make, eh, so when I was goin’ down 127 I picked up some raccoon an’ deer remains. Daddy calls it the “Yooper Special.” Emeril: That’s repulsive. (Hoke begins to drool—this time it’s because of the food.) Hoke: C’mon, Emeril, let’s not judge too quickly. It smells… pretty… good. (More drooling.) (One hour later.) Hoke (Now wearing a bib that reads: “The Michigan Difference”): Welcome back, everyone! It’s time to see what our competitors came up with. Let’s begin with Vinny. Vinny: Here we have my favorite dish: a Zesty Italian Pepperoni Hot Pocket Salad. Muah! My sautéed Hot Pockets provide a kick of flavor, the full bottle of Italian dressing adds a bit of spice, and the leftover lettuce from Brody Caf brings a coolness to balance the meal out, and adds those elusive vegetables that college kids rarely get to consume. Enjoy! Emeril: BAM! So much flavor. Bravo! Fieri: Dude, I could lick your filthy hot pocket all day. Lou Anna: Another gin and gin, damn it! Oh, my thoughts on the dish? Not enough ranch. Next.
Hoke: Thank you, judges; let’s take a look at what Billy made. Billy: When it comes to the “Yooper Special,” the preparation process is very delicate. First, you throw the rotting raccoon meat and venison onto a hot plate, melt some sharp cheddar on it for some pop, and since I don’t know what tomatoes are, I just dumped a bunch of ketchup on it. Voila! (After her tenth gin and gin, Lou Anna rises from her seat and onto the judges’ table. She lifts her wool skirt and begins to urinate.) Lou Anna: Ahhhh, what are you lookin’ at, frosted tips? Never seen a landing strip before? (Hoke intently listens to his earpiece while wiping ketchup from his fourth chin.) Hoke: Looks like that’s it for tonight’s show, everyone! Tune in next week to see an Indiana University redneck battle it out with a Purdue Purdouchebag!
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Animal Attacks Haunt East Lansing Hannah Borland wrote this
EAST LANSING, MI - Twelve vicious animal attacks occurred last week at Michigan State Universit y, resulting in t wo fatalities and ten hospitalizations. Ten of the victims were males walking home alone in the very early hours of the morning, while the two most recent victims were a male and female couple returning to Wonders Hall after leaving a local bar. According to a s t atement released by the East Lansing Police Department, the creatures believed to be responsible for the attacks are, “female wolverines, but, like, the most busted, snaggletoothed wild animal you’ve ever seen, i.e. the grenades of the animal kingdom, or the bastard children of Sarah Jessica Parker and a badger.” The department also released several crude sketches based on eyewitness reports, most of which appeared to be illustrations of, “creatures so ugly, it’s almost mythical. It makes those Sasquatch hunters on the Discovery Channel seem like they might be onto something.” According to Michigan State University’s zoology department, this species is rarely seen outside of Ann Arbor. However, noted zoologist and adjunct faculty member Marky Mark said, “It’s uncommon, but they do come up here, often in packs. We’ve seen this happen when University of Michigan plays Michigan State in East Lansing. They seem to just get sick of the scarcity of available mates in Ann Arbor, who often have serious difficulty initiating and finishing the mating process. So they come here and, unfortunately, tend to mistake young men with beards or long hair for potential partners.” When asked about the attack on the female, Professor Mark said, “Either the young woman was injured over the male she was with, or this certain wolverine is particularly nasty. There are virtually no limits to what these creatures will do to get a male’s attention. Without the aid of tequila, or at least very strong vodka, one look will often convince a male that the female wolverine is “a total landmine”. Without a second look, wolverine males will then immediately return to their ritual of pretentiously reading Ayn Rand novels and preemptively backing down from all fights.” A survivor of one of the attacks, a student whose name cannot be released, said that he is scared and disgusted by the “thing” that ravaged him at 2:30 a.m. Sunday morning.
The
Top 10
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Exacting Revenge by Breaking Every CATA Rule
It’s 7:30 in the morning and you half-drunkenly-half-hungoverly board the #24 Bus in a desperate attempt to make it to your 8 a.m. at least once before the midterm. However, before you can settle in, the ill-tempered, eye-patched CATA bus driver steps on the gas with the ferocity of a disgruntled veteran devoid of all human kindness. Consequently, you’ve biffed it right onto the turntable that connects the ass bus to the face bus. As you lie face down, apathetically broken on a bus floor that smells like weird, warm cheese, you decide over the next several days to exact your revenge by breaking every CATA rule. 10.) Must Use Headphones: Whip out your boom box and blast some Haddaway; perpetually asking all those pathetic bus patrons, “What is love?” 9.) No Pets: You hide your tiny senile dog, Scrappy Woofington, under your not-at-all-suspicious looking trench coat as you board the bus. Revenge is a dish best served piping hot in the form of a steaming pile of doggy doody that has the consistency of runny chocolate syrup and smells like Snausages. 8.) No Shirts, No Shoes, No Service: It’s colder than a Wolverine’s vagina outside, but you’re committed to exacting vengeance. You board the bus to the disgrace of the driver in a party boy-esque silver Speedo that does not effectively hide your thunder or your scruffy patch of cornhole hair. 7.) No Bicycling, Rollerblading, or Skateboarding: You innocently bring your longboard onto the bus. Then, to the dismay of the general public, you attempt to ride it from the front to the back while the bus is in motion, as if you didn’t face plant hard enough without the use of wheels. Seriously, bless this hot mess.
“Ann Arbor is too close to East Lansing for me to ever feel safe from these creatures again,” said the student, “This thing—it was straight out of a Stephen King novel. No, the man himself couldn’t even come up with something this fucked up. It looked like god ate Brody Caf leftovers for a week and whatever He shit out—that’s what ravished me.” East Lansing police have recommended the entire area be on high alert until the varmints have been captured. In the interest of securing campus and ensuring safety, police have teamed up with East Lansing’s P.A.C.E. officers.
6.) No Loitering: Throw on some sweatpants and pack a cooler. You’re in for some good (and terrifying!) people watching as you ride the #1 Bus back and forth from Okemos to Lansing. 5.) No Panhandling: Everyone loves a beggar, so don your most homelessly depressing outfit and forearm crutches and go make some coinage before they pick up on your ploy. 4.) No Weapons: Okay. So it’s not like you plan to use them, but was there ever a better excuse for buying the most badass pair of ninja shuriken you’ve ever seen? The answer is no. Go on, flash these suckers next time some mouth breather static-shocks your genitals. 3.) No Loud or Disruptive Behavior: Really, CATA? Being that the percentage of passengers are more drunkards than not, what are they trying to prove? This one’s really just a fluff rule that you pretty much broke on day one when you vomited loudly while belting “American Pie.”
“We figured why not give ‘em something to do for once other than laundering blood money and wanking it to parking ordinances?” said Sergeant Eli “The Fist” Broad, “They’re all over the place, like unused condoms at a frat house. Sure, [P.A.C.E. officers] are not armed except for mace and repulsive egos, but if we lose a few of ‘em, who cares? The only requirement to become a P.A.C.E. officer is the ability to breathe and walk at the same time, so they’re easily replaceable. Hell, we might as well hire a few wolverines!” Safety experts recommend that male students largely stay indoors at night and in the constant company of at least two females, as these animals are often intimidated by multiple attractive females. As there is a large population of such at MSU, it is preferred that men be accompanied by at least two eights or three sixes at all times. Delegates from East Lansing say they are currently contacting Ann Arbor in attempt to prevent further attacks, by urging Ann Arbor males to “take them out of your pants and actually fucking use them.”
2.) No smoking: What a perfect time to whip out that pipe you clearly bought to smoke… tobacco in. You know, like Gramps used to in the war. 1.) No consumption of alcohol: It seems almost too easy. You’ve been pounding a water bottle of Burnasty in the back of CATA buses since you were a wee seventeen-and-a-half years young and could barely embarrass yourself publically yet. But c’mon, how else are you supposed to spend a Tuesday night when your fake gets taken?
meg enter wrote this
From the Streets
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Got a question you want us to ask? FTS@theblacksheeponline.com
Who was Taylor Swift’s worst man candy? “John Mayer.” - Kayla H., Grad Student
"Taylor Swift should probably write a song called ‘Maybe I’m the Problem’.” - Toby W., Senior
“Um, Bill Clinton?”- Alyssa F., Senior
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Mental Warfare: Waking Up For Class Frank Sorise wrote this
“DAMN, YOUZ A SEXY BITCH, A SEXY BITCH, DAMN, YOUZ A SEX--” the sound of your stupid alarm that you haven’t changed since freshman year goes off at the ass crack of nine in the morning, attempting to wake you up for your Thursday 10:20. You bitch-slap the snooze button, like your doing your best Chris Brown impression, and peek at the time. You’re happy that it’s only nine, which means more time to sleep. You’ve been practicing this maneuver for quite some time now: Setting an extremely ambitious alarm way earlier than you actually plan on getting up while thinking, “I’ll totally wake up to this and, if not, I’ll only hit snooze four-to-six times.” For the record, you have never, ever, awoken to the first alarm. And today is no exception. From the initial alarm at 9 a.m. to the second alarm a half-hour later, zero conscious thoughts pass through your brain. You hit snooze and casually roll over absolutely convinced that the half-hour longer of sleep will leave you completely rested and cured from your trip to Half-Off Wednesday at Harper’s. In your “dream-brain,” only five minutes have passed by, but, in reality, it’s been thirty minutes, and like clockwork, your second alarm goes off. As “Sexy Bitch” blares from your phone you hear the song but sit in disbelief, positive that no more than ten minutes could have possibly passed. A shirtless Akon appears in your dream, singing gloriously. You flashback to warm September days living in Brody and tailgating to that obnoxiously overplayed party-jam while you chugged vodka from water bottles. But as five more minutes go by, you crack open a crusted eye and have a few shitty realizations: it’s 2013, it’s negative six degrees outside, and you have a stupid fucking 10:20 class to attend that you’ve only made it to once this semester.
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After successfully detonating the atomic bomb that is your phone alarm for the second time, you start to negotiate with yourself. You originally said you were going to shower and eat breakfast before this class—which is why you set such early alarms. But, after giving the matter some thought, as you lay in your seductive bed you start telling yourself things like: “I don’t even really like breakfast,” “I took a shower last night,” and “I can just throw on extra deodorant.” After passing back out for what seems like thirty seconds, your alarm goes off again— it’s now 9:45 and you immediately think, “Why the hell did I schedule this class in the first place?” knowing damn well you need this class to graduate. During this 9:45 a.m. lesson in self-hatred, your half-awake reasoning becomes more and more unreasonable. You start to find excuses that don’t even really exist like, “It’s not even safe to be walking with all that ice,” “Attendance is only 30% of the grade,” and, “I’ll study all day once I wake up.” After about a dozen more horseshit excuses, you manage to glutton yourself back to sleep because in the back of your mind you’re “pretty sure” you set two more alarms. If you’re a guy you go back to dreaming about Beyonce’ and Kate Upton having a pillow fight in the IM West pool while wearing Detroit Red Wings bikinis. If you’re a girl, you go back to dreaming about, uh, like being a princess and riding unicorns with James Franco? Or, you know, just a solid, two-hour James Franco box munching session? After a while you wake up to no alarm clock at all, feeling quite rested. You glance down at your phone and see that it’s 12:30 p.m. before letting out long sigh followed by, “fuck, I’m never getting a job.”
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DJ Beats (Front Bar) DJ Beats (Front Bar) Global Village $2.50 - Pints DJ Minze (Back Bar) DJ Minze (Back Bar) $2.50 – Call Drinks $2 Well Drinks Tuesday 9pm-Close $2.50 Bud & Bud Light Bottles 6 7 9 $2.00 – Well Drinks 1/2 Off8 Night $3 Bud Lt Platinum DJ Beats (Front Bar) DJ Beats (Front Bar) The Whirly Birds $3.00 – Premium Drafts DJ Juan Trevino DJ Minze (Back Bar) DJ Minze (Back Bar) $4.00 - Irish Car $3Bombs White Gummy Bear Shots Wednesday 9pm-Close 13 14 15 16 DJ BIG MIKE $2.00 – Domestic Drafts DJ Beats (Front Bar) DJ Beats (Front Bar) $2.50 – Well Drinks The Ice Boxers 3P.M. - 8P.M. BURGER BASH DJ Minze (Back Bar) DJ Minze (Back Bar) $3.00 – Bombs $1 Burgers $1 Fries 1/2 OFF Drinks Dublin Brew Crew from 7-9 Thursday 9pm-Close (excludes top shelf liqours) Coors Light, 23 $2.50 – Pints 20 21 $2 Wells, $222 8P.M. - Close: Ladies Night w/ DJ KING $2.50 – Call Drinks Miller Lite, Labatt and PBR Drafts $2.50 You Call It's, $2.50 Miller Lt, Coors Lt, DJ Beats (Front Bar) DJ Beats (Front Bar) STAR FARM Friday 9pm-Close Rolling Rock Bottles, $3.50 Long Islands $3 Rumple DJ Minze (Back Bar) DJ Minze (Back Bar) $3.50 – All Pints$2.50 Soco Lime & Kamikaze Shots $3.00 – Well Drinks Saturday 9pm-Close 27 28 29 30 $3.50 – All Pints $3 All Drafts $3.50 Pints of Coors Lt, DJ Beats (Front Bar) DJ Beats (Front Bar) $3.00 – Well Drinks Daniels DJ Minze (Back Bar) Miller DJ Minze (Back Bar) $3.50 Jack Lite, Labatt DJ Beats Blue Light Sunday All Day SoCo Lime and Kamikazes $3.50 Well Liquor $3.00 –Bloody$3 Mary & Mimosas $3.00 – Pints DJ Big Mike DJ Donnie D $8.00 – Burger, Fries & Pint Every Day $3.00 – Kamikaze Shots $3.50 Pints of Pub Dublin Square Irish $4.00 – Pinnacle Bombs $3 Domestic Bottles Coors Lt, Miller 327 Abbott Rd Lite, $3.50 Flavored Vodka East Labatt LansingBlue MI 48823 Light 9pm – Close Every Day
$3 SoCo Limes and Kamikazes Captain Morgan
½ Off – Potato Skins $3.50 Hush Puppies & Onion Rings
$3.50 Well Liquor
For More Information Contact Us: DJ Beats (517) 3512222 www.dublinsquare.net Or Text: “Dublin Square” to $3 Bloody Marys 839863 for specials & updates.
SUN, 2/17
*Ladies Night~ Every Thursday!
Happy Sunday!
$3 Mimosas $3.00 ALL Draft Pints $8 Burger and Pint Special
MONDAY-THURSDAY HAPPY HOUR! 3P.M. - 7P.M.: $3 Well Drinks, $3.50 23oz Domestic Drafts, $1 Off All Wines, $1 Off All Appetizers 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
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 Happy Hour: 3P.M. - 7P.M.! $3 Corona & Sol, $2 Rolling Rock Btls., $4 Dirty Corona Btls., $3 Shot of Well Tequila, $6 Marg./Daiquiri Mini Pitchers 9P.M. - 2am: $3 Single Call Drinks & Tequila $4 23oz Domestic Draft, $3 Flavored Vodka Bomb Happy Hour 3P.M. - 7P.M.: $5 Domestic Pitchers, $1 Off All Wines, $3 Single Wells 9P.M. - 2am: $6 32oz Mini Buckets (exl. Red Bull), $1 off all Draft Beers, $3 Flavored Vodka Bombs, $3 Soco Limes & Washington Apple Shots 11am - 4P.M.: $3.50 23oz Domestic Drafts | Bloody Mary Bar! Happy Hour 3P.M. -7P.M.: $1 off all Kraft Beers, $3.50 23oz Domestic Drafts 9P.M. - 2am: $1 off all Kraft Beers $3 23oz Domestic Drafts
MON, 2/18
$4 Domestic Pitchers $5 Premium Pitchers $3 Shot Special DJ KING
$2 Bottles of Miller Lite, Coors Lt, Labatt Blue Light $2 Wells
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, 2/19
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, 2/20
$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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SATURDAY: Martini Night 6-close Free Taco Bar $3 Bud Lt & Labatt, NEW $6 Martinis & NEW $6 Bloody Marys $6 Breakfast Buffet 1am-close
Monday - Friday! Happy Hour 4P.M. - 7P.M.: $0.25 Off Bottles and Drafts $0.50 Off Cocktails $1 Off Large Pitchers
Specials Run 7 Days A Week Open-Close! Go Green!
SPECIAL NIGHT
Pitcher Day! $1.50 Off All Pitchers
$2 Off Pitchers Of Beer $5 16oz Sicilian Long Islands $6 Oasis Sangria Pitchers $3 All Mediterranean Beer & Booze, $5 Off Bottles & $1 Off Glasses All Our Mediterranean Wines $2.49 Falafel Sandwiches $5.99 Mediterranean Pizzas
WED, 2/13
Ladies Night 4-9: Unlimited Grilled Cheese, Pickle and Tomato Soup, $4 Pitchers, 1/2 Shark Bowls Ladies Night 9-cl: $4 Long Islands, $4 Mojitos, $6 Martinis, $6 Bloody Marys
$2.75 Bottles of Corona and Sierra Nevada $2.75 Shots of Curevo Gold
♥ Happy Valentine's Day! ♥ $2 Domestic Pints & Wells $3 Premium/Micro/Craft Pints $3.50 Beef Schawarma Sandwiches, $5.50 Falafel Salads & $6 Chicken Schawarma Salads
THURS, 2/14
Goombas Pizza Fest! 6 - 9pm: $0.75 Slices of Pizza, $3.50 PBR Pitchers, $3 Long Islands 9 - close: $1.25 Pizza Slices, $5 PBR Pitchers, $3 Long Islands
Happy Hour 4P.M. - 7P.M.: $0.25 Off Bottles and Drafts $0.50 Off Cocktails $1 Off Large Pitchers
$2 Domestic Pints & $4 Bombs $3 Captain & Bacardi Drinks $2 Washington Apple Shots Cheeseburger Combo/Falafurger Combo w/ Pitcher $11 Dom/$13 Craft
FRI, 2/15
Martini Night 6-cl! Free Taco Bar $3 Bud Lt & Labatt, NEW $6 Martinis & NEW $6 Bloody Marys $6 Breakfast Buffet 1am-close
Come try our Green Meanie!
$5 Domestic & $7 Craft/Premium Pitchers, $5 16oz Long Islands, $5 22oz Dead Guy Ales, $2 SoCo Limes, $5 Off Bottles & $1 Off Glasses All Our "Other" Wines Great Food Specials All Day/Night!
SAT, 2/16
Book your Barcrawl @ 248.860.7362
$2.50 Labatt and Labatt Light Bottles, Molson Golden and Molson Canadian Bottles
$3 Managers Choice Craft Beer Pints $3 16oz Oasis Bloody Marys & Mimosas $6 Oasis Margarita Pitchers $3.50 Oasis Margarita Glasses $2 Well Whiskey Drinks $5 Off Kabob Combos For Two & $2 Off Veggie Sampler Appetizers
SUN, 2/17
Closed Birthday Group Discounts @ 248.860.7362
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, 2/18
NEW HOURS NEW SPECIALS POOL, 9HD TV'S & DARTS GOOMBAS PIZZZA EVERY FRIDAY
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, 2/19
Pitcher Day! $1.50 Off All Pitchers
$2 Off Pitchers Of Beer $5 16oz Sicilian Long Islands $6 Oasis Sangria Pitchers $3 All Mediterranean Beer & Booze, $5 Off Bottles & $1 Off Glasses All Our Mediterranean Wines $2.49 Falafel Sandwiches $5.99 Mediterranean Pizzas
WED, 2/20
21+, NEW HOURS NEW SPECIALS POOL, 9HD TV'S & DARTS GOOMBAS PIZZZA EVERY FRIDAY
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page 11
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bartender of the week josh the riv Age: 25 Major: Hospitality Business Relationship Status: Ball and chain Nickname: D.J. Getsum Describe your typical customer: Someone screaming for a pitcher Favorite shot: Jameson Parties or bars? Parties at bars Liquor of choice: Jameson
the drinking game:
Favorite sex position: Driving Seesaw Best pickup line: “Can I get a mustache with that?” Rockstar you want to party with: Freddy Mercury Favorite TV show bar: Cheers Describe the Riv with hashtags: #rama #vivalawormhole #sexual Bar pet peeve: Asking for an “LBL” instead of a Labatt Blue Light
recipe for disaster:
task master
Hot Dog and Egg Sandwiches
Truth or Dare was a highlight of middle school sleepovers. However, the one thing that was missing at the time was copious amounts of alcohol (unless you went to cool kid parties). Task Master takes Truth or Dare and makes it better by adding alcohol and removing the Truth part, because that was always for pussies.
Many times the secret to creativity lies in using what is available to you. Many of us would love to cook complex dinners using a variety of spices and meats, but that is often too expensive, and we are often too drunk or tired or stoned or lazy or all of those. Here is a simple recipe using only food that are mainstays in the college student kitchen
What You’ll Need: Alcohol! Number of Players: As many brave souls as you can acquire. Level of Intoxication: That all depends on how wiling you are to humiliate yourself.
What You’ll Need: Hotdogs, eggs, cheese, bread. Cook Time: 5-10 minutes. Fatty Factor: Deliciously incapacitating.
How To Play: - Designate a person in the group to be the first Task Master. This can be done by choice, rock, paper, scissors, odds-evens, whatever. - The Task Master then assigns a task (dare) to another player in the group. - If the person fails their task, the must drink half of their drink. If the person refuses to do a task, they must finish their drink. - When a person completes a task, everyone takes a social drink, and the person who completed the task becomes the new Task Master. The Game Ends When: Everyone is too ashamed of themselves to make eye contact. It only takes one person to change this game from a light-hearted prank fest to a full on molest-a-thon, so choose your participants carefully.
download our app for all of our drinking games!
Let’s Get Baked: - Start off by throwing some bread in the toaster. If you don’t have a toaster, a microwave might work. Don’t quote us on that, we’re not Gordon Ramsay. - Cut up a few hotdogs into thin slices and throw them on a frying pan. - Beat some eggs and throw those on the same frying pan. If you haven’t noticed yet, this recipe involves a lot of throwing. - Scramble the eggs along with the hotdog slices until the eggs are cooked. - Remove the toast from the microwave, put the eggs and hotdogs on the toast, and throw some cheese on it. If your arm is still feeling good, try throwing some hot sauce on it too. If there’s one thing better than scrambled eggs, it’s scrambled eggs with hot dogs in it. And if there’s one thing that’s better than scrambled eggs with hotdogs in it, it’s scrambled eggs with hotdogs in it with cheese on top. And if there’s one thing better than that, it’s sex. But…but why are we so alone?
Hungry for More? theblacksheeponline.com
seth macfarlane's oscar monolouge Good evening, and welcome to the 2013 Academy Awards! You know, when they asked me to host this year I said, “Sure, it should be easier than that time I hosted SNL and the ghost of Florence Nightingale put a frozen banana in my butt!” Anyway, I’m sure you’re all more excited to get this over with than John Madden’s colon after he mistook three pounds of pepper jack cheese for a rotisserie chicken! Now, if you haven’t seen the lovely Anne Hathaway -- where are you Anne? Beautiful, didn’t she and James do a great job last year? It was a meeting of ugly and stoned meets elegance and beauty, like when George R.R. Martin wanders onto a multiple-blowjob scene in Game of Thrones. Let’s start with a look at the Actor in a Leading Role candidates - we’ve got a manic depressive, a bipolar, two drunks, and a former inmate. Boy, sounds like a Monday night at Robert Downey Jr.’s house. It’s been a tight race for Actor in a Leading Role. Bradley Cooper, of course, did a wonderful job capturing a tortured bipolar man. But boy, audiences haven’t been faced with that much spousal abuse since Rihanna told Chris Brown he missed a button. Speaking of Silver Linings Playbook, Jennifer Lawrence is an amazing actress up for an award. Even now, though, the talk about Jennifer isn’t as much about how she’s a great actress, it’s about how comfortable she is in her own skin. No offense, Jennifer, but most people would be pretty comfortable in a 22-year-old woman. Only Roman Polanski would say that it’s too loose of a fit. Probably the biggest discussion of a film’s ability to make its audience think surrounded Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty, and the message it sends about torture. Namely, that being waterboarded is more pleasant than sitting through all of Beasts of the Southern Wild.
In "massive buyout of a failing organization news", this year George Lucas sold Star Wars to Disney. The news only got better when Walt Disney himself awoke from his cryogenic state to design the Jewish version of Jar Jar Binks himself. [Evil voice] “Yes, his name is Jewba the Hutt and he wants to melt C-3PO and ruin America’s economy.” This year a lot of people thought Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master would receive a nomination for Best Picture. Those people were wrong, and his Scientology allegory didn’t get the nod. If you ask me, no story about a dead, invisible entity loved by many has been snubbed that hard since Manti T’eo’s spec script for My Real-Life-I-Swear-To-God-She Exists Girlfriend: A Love Story was passed over by Harvey Weinstein. Speaking of closeted homosexuals who preach love for invisible weirdos, Tom Cruise couldn’t make it this evening. When Katie Holmes’ lawyer told him he would have to take care of Suri tonight, he was more disappointed than when his agent let him know he’d be starring in Jack Reacher, not Jack Reach-Around. There was another snub this year too, a little movie named Ted that wasn’t put up for any awards. If you ask me, it was the best film of the year, and not just because I made millions of dollars from it. It’s also because I’ve made millions and millions of dollars for it. I haven’t seen a joke that selfreferential since the last twenty years of Al Pacino’s career. And how about Life of Pi? Life of Pi is up for Best Picture this year. Good thing Bruce Vilanch hasn’t seen it, around him a Pi’s life is what? 20 minutes, tops?
Everyone knows what a treat Daniel Day-Lewis is, especially when he’s working on another personality. Audiences everywhere felt like they were looking at Abraham himself, but one thing he failed to capture with Lincoln, was honest Abe’s wellknown habit of parading around the White House dressed as a John Wilkes Booth’s wife and offering “moral oral” to everyone in sight - that was Booth’s motivation. He wasn’t against Lincoln’s policy, he just thought he was a jerk! Of course the indomitable Denzel Washington, great to have him here tonight. Denzel is the predominant race educator of our times. In 1992 as Malcolm X he taught us that success by any means necessary is still success, and in 2001 he taught us that King Kong was actually a large black man, not an ape. Well, he’s at it again this year with Flight, showing us that even when a black guy saves a hundred lives, it’s only after he shows up late and unprepared for work. And hey, what do you know? That brings us to our first award of the night. Here to present the award for Best Adapted Screenplay is James Franco in a dress. I haven’t seen someone this comfortable in the opposite sex’s clothes since...James Franco hosted the Oscars last year.
we interview: monica theiu, 2012
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jeopardy! college champion THIS! IS! AN INTERVIEW WITH THE 2012 JEOPARDY! COLLEGE CHAMPIONSHIP WINNER, MONICA THIEU! Now a student at Stanford University, last year she steamrolled her competition to win a cool $100,000. She’ll be participating in the Jeopardy! Tournament of Champions, airing February 15th. Sure, she may know Chopin’s “Minute Waltz” is in D flat major, but does she know how to love? By: Brendan
ETERNITY OF DIMMING frontier ruckus
Let’s FALL IN LOVE
TBS: Why did you want to be on Jeopardy! so badly? Monica: I did quiz bowl stuff in high school, I’ve always known random crap, but I didn’t really know it was useful until high school. Then I was like, “You can win stuff for knowing shit? That’s great!” With Jeopardy! , I like being on TV, and I thought it would be something fun to do. TBS: What did you do to study between learning to be on the show and arriving on set? Monica: There’s a website online that archives old games with transcripts with old questions and answers. I went back and mined it for questions and answers, comparing the questions they ask with things I know and things I don’t. Hopefully, I would only be studying the things I really needed to study. TBS: What’s different between watching it on TV and playing in the studio? Monica: When you’re watching the show, you don’t realize how much it’s a buzzer-based game, as opposed to an answers-based game. Sure, there may be some answers a contestant might not know, but so much of it was I knew the answer, but I was too slow on the buzzer. So often people would say, “How come you didn’t get that?” and I knew the answer, but another contestant beat me to getting there. TBS: What percentage of questions did you know? What percentage did you answer? Monica: I'd be confident answering 80% to 85%, and another 5% I could make a good guess. There were a few categories where I didn’t know anything. TBS: What percentage of the questions did you get in on? Monica: Not that many. Maybe half of the questions I knew? That’s a very generous estimate; I was not very good on the buzzer. TBS: In turn, did you ever try to get in not knowing what the answer was? Monica: Sometimes you’d see the question and you think you can figure out in the five seconds they give you the answer, then you realize you can’t. TBS: When they go to a judge for a clarification, is that TV magic? Or is it really like a 2-second call on their part? Monica: Totally [TV magic]. None of my games had a pause when judges were reconsidering answers, but they’ll reevaluate a question during a commercial break. One of the times I was watching, it was a half hour break as the judges debate.
mother mother
SHIVERS divine fits
HEAVY FEET Credit: Jeopardy! Productions TBS: What question were you proudest of answering? Monica: I’m not sure there’s a question I’m proudest of answering. I got all of the Final Jeopardy! questions correct, so I guess I’m proud of that. A couple of those were wellplaced guesses. A lot of Jeopardy is a game of educated guessing. If you’re good enough to connect the dots, you can figure it out. TBS: What is Alex Trebek like? Monica: He’s a character, though we didn’t have as much time to spend with him as I thought we were going to. Basically, he’ll come out for the game, and then leave immediately to change for the next game and whatnot. We had promo photos with him, though. He’s a nice guy, but he’ll sass the audience sometimes during the commercial breaks. TBS: The constant interviews seem miserable. They are, right? Monica: Dude, they’re the worst! I wish we didn’t have to do them. I hate watching other peoples’ contestant interviews, I hated my own contestant interviews. It’s the most awkward part of the show, can we just not do this? Sometimes Alex will make a quip or innuendo and you’ll be like, “All right Alex, you go do that.” TBS: So how has winning this changed things for you? Monica: I’ve only had a few people recognize me in public, like at McDonald’s. Otherwise, it’s just funny when I have to explain to people that I was on Jeopardy! , they’ll be star struck for like, one minute. For the most part my life hasn’t been super different. TBS: $100,000 isn’t too bad, though. Monica: Oh, no no no. But taxes.
local natives
Dance With Me ra ra riot
CrYIN’ WOLF
HOLY GHOST drgn king
SAD EYES crystal castles
Young American
annabel
FRIDAY NIGHT the last royals
page 15
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An Open Letter to That Guy Whose Crotch I Accidentally Grabbed on the Bus Garrison Rasmussen wrote this Dear Guy From the #31 Bus Last Tuesday, Hey, you, You may or may not remember me from my Angel Soft tissuelike hands. It’s okay, I’m not insulted if you don’t. Though our connection was short, the electricity was instant. Sorry about the shock to your danglin’-dandies by the way; I had no idea whatsoever that I could conduct electricity. And, judging by the feel of what lie in my hand shortly thereafter, I wasn’t the only one erect for that fleeting moment. After you grabbed my hand in sheer disbelief (don’t worry, I was stunned by our chemistry too), you threw it to the side, rather playfully. You must have been running late to your next class, as you abruptly pulled the wire and pried the doors open without so much as a touch of the brakes by the bus driver. Fair enough. After all, I do appreciate a man who is punctual about attending classes in a timely fashion. I saw you run into Bessey Hall. 'Twas advantageous for me, as I continued to ride that same bus route for three days after our dreamlike encounter hoping, watching, waiting, while only knowing the alleged location of your noon class on Tuesday. I thought that you would never return and the stark depression that ravaged my body for the days to come would lead to the untimely ending of me. However, as fate would have it, the next Tuesday, once again, you graced me with your presence, shot a quick grimace at me, and held back a tiny bit of vomit. You can’t fool me, I know you’re just playing hard to get. Quite like the cheetah pursues the gazelle, I pounced off the
bus with you at and into Bessey. Sitting a few rows behind you, I found out just what supply chain management is all about. Oh, I know, I’m such a sucker for business majors—I swore that my figurative boner for you inched forward by the minute, as did my literal one. The class seemed to laugh uncomfortably at my anecdote I made to the professor about how my chain would supply you with the utmost erotic pleasure, but I really knew I was tugging at your heartstrings when I started discussing “packaging,” “demand curves,” and “hostile takeovers” softly into your ear. From there you tore across the room in an obvious attempt to keep this cat and mouse game going. Now the chase was on. Later, on Beal Street, when you thought was no longer following you, little did you know that you couldn’t escape me and that I’d always be with you. I assumed, since you were too afraid to initiate a conversation with me, let alone a long-term relationship that would only end after sixty years of domestic partnership, three beautiful children, and countless nights of “squeezing the squirrel,” you needed me to make the nudge. As I secretly lie under your bed, quietly perusing the best possible option as to how to surprise you, I went for the quick kill. After attempting to deep-tongue the back of your throat, you were rather alarmed at the sudden pass I had placed upon you. You violently threw me from your house and I was left alone to ponder what exactly I did wrong. Were you offended that I didn’t grab your crotch again? I was afraid that without the proper amount of static built up my soft touch wouldn’t have
recreated our first romantic happenstance. Well, baby, though I do not know your name, I am patiently awaiting for next Tuesday on our bus. I haven’t unloaded my heart or myself from the #31 yet and I’m hoping to see you sooner. I miss you, and I miss us. Until the next time I accidently brush my phalanges against your genitals, my sweet, serendipitous lover. Love and Other Drugs, That Cute Guy Who Moisturizes
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