The Black Sheep
FR EE ... lik beef e yo the u a ha te nd fo fu rb lo re f c ak o fa rn st. ed
• a college newspaper that’s actually about college •
Volume 8, Issue 9 • 3/13/13 - 3/20/13
theblacksheeponline.com @MSUBlackSheep
When Your Poop Turns Green:
A St. Patrick’s Day Epilogue meg enter wrote this
As always, you rocked the pants off St. Patrick’s Day. Not to mention the pants of of the horny leprechaun you picked up somewhere between barfing up a green, jizzum-like shot of some sort of alcohol and stealing a CATA bus stop sign. However, like any fervent and painful story of epic liver-damaging proportions, there’s always an aftermath, and, if it’s anything like the postSt. Patrick’s-Day-wrath served up by all those years before you were a super senior, a whole lotta shit will be involved in your St. Patty’s Day epilogue. While there’s presumably nothing wrong with letting out a solid fart next to your hook-up from the night before, this can become a most dangerous game. The possibility of sharting out a runny, emerald blumpkin presents itself with linearly increasing probability relative to the number of green beers consumed the night before. Everyone is well aware that if you don’t consume ten ounces of liquid green-gold for every time you see the words “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” adorned across some butterface’s breasts, you’re cursing the grave of St. Patrick himself. So, like the innovative conquistador you are, you sleuth your hungover self to the ass gasket before some snarky poo goblins waddle out your unprepared cornhole. Having successfully avoided the beginnings of an unintentional hot carl on the solid five lying to your left, you reach the toilet. Since your supple buttocks are already bare from the sloppy trip to pound town you took after that little charmer in your bed drunkenly asked you if you’d like to see her three leaf clover, you don’t have to factor in the ever-variable pant-dropping time. With the glory of a thousand demon penises up your archenemy’s nose, you experience a poo-phoria so sweet it can only be described as the assquake of the ages. You look down to see the longest, greenest chi-chi gong anyone has ever created. Pleased with yourself, you prepare to return to your sex cave as you feel another emerald storm a-brewin’ in your underbelly. All things considered, you decide to leave your agape anus hovering over the community pool. Without warning, a wild poop soup of mossy green stool projectiles out your bum hole with the fiery burn of the worst ass-piss known to mankind. As you examine what lies beneath you, you try to diagnose what variety of green-dyed Dub and liquor could have lead to this distinct breed of black-green that permeates your poo stew. Your heart runs wild with conflicting emotions, unsure of whether to be ashamed of the concoction you've avalanched out of your rectum, or to be proud that, as a result of binge drinking, you have finally produced the most
good ol' amish lovin'
naturally beautiful thing you will ever craft. You’ve been in the bathroom for a solid half-hour now, and that St. Patty sex partner has long gone, but it’s all moot, as you can sense round three lurking. So, like a good American, you keep your butt cheeks affixed to an already traumatized toilet seat. As a result of rushing to the water closet faster than you can say “asparagus loaf,” you forgot your essential pooping partner: your iPhone. You feel even colder and more alone, as you’re unable to ask Siri important, existential questions including “Oh,
what'’s inside
The True Story of a Yes Man
oil lamps, bonnets and a farm? you know it's about to get cray!
Like an Amish kid on Rumspringa, how quick can saying yes to everything derail your life?
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God, when will it end?” and instead have to resort to reading the shampoo label you’ve nearly memorized. While pistachio colored diarrhea continues to surge through your body for the next few days, you realize it’s merely the darkest before the dawn. And while you may be entirely foggy on the details, you take your days worth of green dumps as a sign of St. Patty’s Day success. Savor the feeling, the whole process only gets worse with age.
Would You Rather: St. Patty's Edition Set your phazers to fun and your judgments to questionable!
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! page three k e e W e h t f o Pic word of the week Anti-elope:
A contrarian stance taken by college males, denying their desire to ever marry. “Dude, I’m so anti-elope, I ain’t ever marrying no bitches.”
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GOOD OL' AMISH LOVIN'
Zach Wyrzykowski wrote this
Crickets chirp merrily in the night as a cool wind wanders through the barns, homes, and fields of the sleepy town of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. The livestock has been brought in, the butter set aside, and all the townsfolk have gone to bed in anticipation for tomorrow’s chores—all except for two amorous, and soon-to-be-heathen, souls. A small oil lamp in a dark, deserted barn casts a flickering glow over the figures of Abram Stoltzfoos and Miriam Herschberger. They both have reached the age of Rumspringa and now may run wild upon the world until they decide to calm down, kick their inevitable addiction to hard drugs, and get back to tending the fields, growing beards, and whittling spoons. But tonight, as the sound of the cars driven by the damned on the highway built by infidels quiets to nothing, Abram looks upon this homely piece of Amish ass. Her bonnet hides her earthen brown hair, and her dress lies heavily on her slender form. She begins to slowly unbutton her white smock, stained with the blood of the dozen-or-so chickens and ducks she decapitated not thirty Amish minutes ago. Nearly an Amish hour later Miriam’s dress finally lies on the floor, and Abram is wide-eyed at the still mostly-dressed woman before him. She still wears two dresses, as well as a plethora of undergarments. Nevertheless, Abram is now mostly sure that she does indeed have breasts, and his fingers begins twisting at his patchy beard, like a patient at a methadone clinic, in anticipation for the coming romp. It’s later now, and Abram is still waiting. He decides to step outside to whittle a small rabbit while he waits for Miriam to finish removing her clothes. His mind begins to wander; his neckbeard wrinkles as he grins, fantasizing about how much he wants to plow Miriam’s grubby thicket into neat rows, churn her milk into frothy cream, hitch his fat steed to her buggy, and have her get her on her knees to scrub his filthy pots and pans. She’d been known to raise more than barns in her day, like children… but mainly, probably just barns, he speculates. Just before turning to enter the stable, Abram looks to the stars and sees what must be an airplane shooting across the sky and offending the Almighty with each sonic boom. He chuckles as he thinks about how long the Satanists who built it will spend in the fires of hell, and how he heard Denzel Washington flies those devil machines upside down while jacked up on cocaine and cigarettes. He opens the door and calls Miriam’s name in a sultry mix of Pig Latin and German. She responds by stepping into the light of the lamp, revealing her sixth and final layer of clothing. Abram steps forward and embraces Miriam lightly as he wraps his beefy arms around her broad shoulders and
St. Patrick’s Day: A Timeline Alex Everard wrote this
inhales her scent, an intoxicating mix of horse manure, turnips, and body odor. As Abram begins to unbutton his overalls, he notices something peculiar about Miriam—namely, her face. He looks and notices her painted eyes and lips. She almost looks attractive. Abram’s blood runs ice cold. He had come to this secret barn tryst expecting a proper Amish four out of ten, not some harpy with her face painted like a dervish of Lucifer. It was then that he knew—this fräulein was just too kinky for him. He turned and walked off into the night, throwing a lantern down in a fit of repressed Amish rage. The hay caught on fire, and the barn and Miriam were soon reduced to smoldering heaps of ash. From a distance, Abram looked up from the toy pheasant he was whittling, cracked a quick smile, and watched the inferno burn out before watching the mob of sleepwalking, thick-bearded brethren rebuild the barn. None were the wiser.
… And raise what’s left of the flag for me! Flogging Molly blasts through your speakers as you jolt from your bed, filled with Irish pride and heritage that doesn’t exist any other day of the year. It’s St. Patrick’s Day, and you’ve been looking forward to this since exactly one year ago, when you vomited a lime green substance from the balcony of Theta Chi that resembled the ooze Nickleodeon used to dump on contestants during Slime Time Live. “This year will be different,” you tell yourself as you take a swig of Irish coffee that’s heavy on the “Irish” and light on the “coffee.” And so it begins… 8:25 a.m.: Naturally, you gather with your friends on the back porch for a shotgun start of George Killian’s Irish Red, a beer that is brewed specifically to never be shotgunned. This goes down about as easy as your exgirlfriend, but it puts a few red hairs on your chest. Time to kick today’s ass. 8:45 a.m.: Holy Irish Terrier shit, St. Patrick’s Day is the tits, even if they are slightly-pale tits! You’re already a few green Keystones deep from your neighbor’s keg, and you’re on a beer pong win streak—nothing could possibly go wrong. 10:00 a.m.: At this juncture, you’re a good morningdrunk. Everyone is basking in the sun and those with real Irish heritage are getting happily sunburned. Your urine is starting to resemble the color of a Michigan student’s teeth—not quite green, but definitely gross. . 11:00 a.m.: “Urrp!” You let go a beastly burp after mistakenly taking a swig of some drunk girl’s “Slamrock Shake” that tasted like the jizz of that old basketballplaying leprechaun from that one Disney Channel Original Movie. You “shake” it off and chase it down with a shot of Jameson. Crisis averted, you truly have the luck of the Irish. Noon: You make your rounds at the frats to get the obligatory dose of green man suits and girls showing nip for plastic clover necklaces. Your always-generous bro-
pals hoist you up for a keg stand, and being the true, fauxIrishman you are, you hold it for a solid twenty seconds. You head out back and immediately let go a three-minute stream of pure green pee while shouting “Go White!” 1:00 a.m.: The line of Adderall you railed with Green Man #3 at the frat is starting to wear off, but you chase down your fatigue with more green beer. 2:00 p.m.: You just did your first double-down of the day, “double-down” meaning you fell down, got back up, and then fell down again. 3:00 p.m. – 6:00 p.m.: Signal lost. Autopilot commences. 7:00 p.m.: You wake up with a wad of corned beef in your fist and the taste of salt and despair in your mouth. Your friends are nowhere to be found but you have several texts from them. They read: “Nice kegstandd!”, “wher are yu?”, “deja vu?”, and “bars latro?” in that order. You immediately call them. 8:30 p.m.: After an Irish shower (application of deodorant plus two swigs of whiskey followed by you trying to fight someone) and a few ibuprofens, you’re ready for round two. You throw on a green polo and text your friends to meet you at Dublin. Time to rock St. Patty’s Night! 11:30 p.m.: After several hours at the bar and several horribly unsuccessful attempts with cute red-headed girls, you’re starting to wonder what’s up. Can they tell you threw up in your mouth and swallowed it earlier? Do they smell that mysterious corned beef ball on your breath? That’s what the mouthwash was for; you hit the bathroom to collect yourself. 11:35 p.m.: After your fifteenth green piss of the day, you go to wash your hands—and that’s when you realize your face is covered with penises, “Kiss me I’m a fucking idiot,” and saggy boobs. No wonder that bouncer did a triple take at your I.D. with a shit-eating grin. Happy St. Patty’s Day!
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The
Top 10
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Worst Cities to Live in America
To all the beautiful people of East Lansing and to those now resembling Snooki, we welcome you back from spring break with open arms. Whether you spent the greater part of the last week sucking on an empty beer bong or doing stage dives off the bar, you likely saw some lovely (and not at all trashy) places in America. Well, here are ten places that, truth be told, are on the other end of that spectrum: 10.) Dallas, TX: You may like drilling for oil day-in and day-out while baking in the 110 degree sun, but if you’re not a fan of that, marrying by age twenty, and hating anyone that doesn’t resemble eggshell white, it’s best to avoid the Dallas Metro Area. 9.) Forks, WA: On top of this droll Seattle suburb being doused in rain or shrouded by clouds for 367 days a year, Forks also houses a certain, sparkly vampire that seems to come out only at Twilight. We’re no longer fifteen-year-old girls—give us our hipster vampires of True Blood, thank you.
The True Story of the Yes Man Zoë Kremke wrote this
Peter had an average life with average classes and an average job at a campus cafeteria. He lived in an average apartment with nobody else, and had an (let’s be real... less than) average sized penis. One gloomy day, Peter was walking the streets of East Lansing when he ran into Willie the Can Man. Peter was feeling pretty shitty after failing his last Econ exam, so he popped a squat next to good old Willie to chat it up, hoping he could feel better about himself by sitting next to someone so poor. “Willie, my life is relatively average, and my penis is of less-than-average size,” said Peter. Okay, he didn’t really say the second part, but he should have in the spirit of full disclosure. “Peter, you need to say yes to life,” was all Willie said. “Wait, how do you know my name?” Peter asked, vaguely alarmed. But Willie had already wandered off, failing to answer Peter’s question. “Well, shucks,” Peter said, “I guess Willie’s a smart and successful man; I will follow his worldly advice and say yes to life,” Peter declared to literally nobody. So Peter set off down Grand River, with a fresh outlook on life. The first person he bumped into was a woman outside a slightly shady house on the corner. “Hey, there!” the young woman said, “Do you want to come by our religious study group tonight?” “YES!” Peter exclaimed, thrilled to seize this opportunity. Sure as sugar, Peter showed up to the house that night, and there was a kind of weird study group going down in the living room. When they asked Peter if he would like to join them in a blood sacrifice, he felt like it might not be a good idea, but Willie’s voice rang in his head and he obliged. Stumbling home covered in goat blood, Peter was ready to just call it a day when he saw a sign taped crudely onto a CATA bench. The sign advertised a fight club. Feeling adventurous due
to the PCP he had agreed to take during the goat sacrifice, Peter called the number listed. “What luck,” Peter thought, “there’s a fight tonight!” Having been invited, Peter wandered towards the alleyway next to Abbot to check it out. The men swarmed Peter like a pack of rabid porcupines, but Peter had to say yes; he wasn’t going to let Willie down, dammit. So, naturally, he took out three guys by biting off parts of their ears and faces. Hoping he had bought himself just enough time to escape, Peter noticed that across the street there was a woman in a frighteningly Snookie-esque, leopard-print dress. He ran to her in hopes that she could get him to safety. Turns out, she was actually a hooker “paying her way through college,” even though her sagging tits and c-section scar signaled her to be at least forty-three.
8.) Columbus, OH: Though there are certain urban areas that a sport fan may enjoy, Columbus resides in the exact middle of the worst state in America known as Blow-Hio. While literacy rates skyrocket on placement tests when it comes to spelling their state's name, not many bright spots are found in America’s stump. Free tattoos are a plus, though! 7.) Birmingham, AL: “We let holy matrimony run its course, even if it goes through the family tree!” While that may be a green light for Uncle Cletus and his banjo gang, the rest of America has wisely chose to stay put and raise children who aren’t both their son and their nephew. 6.) New Orleans, LA: Though full of festivities one day a year, New Orleans is often subjected to a plethora of issues, ranging from the occasional devastating flood or a nonalcohol-induced blackout during the Super Bowl. 5.) Miami, FL: One would think that Miami is the sparkling haven of America—the true destination of all destinations. However, high crime rates and a proclivity for salsa music makes going anywhere in this city both dangerous and unbearable. 4.) Detroit, MI: While some people may go to Detroit to feel better about their shitty house, we’re not too turned on by crumbling buildings and homeless people taking our money as we approach the gates of Comerica Park. 3.) Oakland, CA: Sometimes a city is judged for not having all of the sparkle and glamour of its sister city. However, when your sister city is San Francisco, and all you have to offer is back alleys, hyphy rap, and whistle tips, we’ll be happy to stay on the other side of the bridge. 2.) Ann Arbor, MI: Housing one of the worst universities and fan bases in America is enough to chase anybody off. But, seriously, when a city doesn’t have a problem with smog, but rather has a problem with smug -- yeah, that’s when you know your town sucks.
She asked him to take her home, and, seeing as he didn’t really have a choice, Peter did. Despite her well-manicured appearance, it was undoubtedly a mistake. Peter felt wildly uncomfortable with her decision to move in with him; but it wasn’t like he could say no. After all, he was officially a yes-to-life kind of guy. So, why the hell not? He and Ms. Pseudo Snooki officially became an item, and they were going to share everything, including her rampant Chlamydia. Three years later, Peter is still living with his woman and is running the local fight club. However, he did recently lose the apartment after a band of vagrants demanded he give it to them. So now, home is a large cardboard box with a Wal-Mart bag for a toilet where he and what’s-her-hole live with Chlamydia and heroin addictions to match. Peter often thinks about how his life used to be, and then laughs at the Red Cedar. Not because he thinks his life is better now due to taking Willie’s advice, but because he has lost his ability to process basic information, due to his participation in an experimental study at the University of Michigan's medical school.
1.) Cleveland, OH: Yes, there is in fact a city worse than Ann Arbor. Why, it’s the armpit of America in less-than-scenic Cleveland! Their river caught on fire, their sports teams are famous for losing, and they get all the trash on Lake Erie that washes out of Detroit. Yeah, there’s no silver lining here.
Garrison Rasmussen wrote this
From the Streets
[PartyPics]
Got a question you want us to ask? FTS@theblacksheeponline.com
What cartoon character turns you on the most? “Hiccup from How to Train your Dragon.” - Emily O., Junior
"Jessica Rabbit from Who framed Roger Rabbit?” - Danny P., Senior
"Lana King from Archer, I think she’s the only cartoon I’d have sex with.” - Bryan L., Super Senior
send your party pics to pics@theblacksheeponline.com
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Do This, Not That: Sex Edition Hannah Borland wrote this
Well, let’s start off by saying that if you’re reading this with hopes of finding useful sex tips—we can only assume you’re in the midst of a you’re in the midst of yet another dry spell and desperately need to switch things up. Much like the wildly popular Eat This, Not That diet books, we offer ideas for small changes that won’t be useful in the long run, because why learn to ask what your partner wants when you could just follow sex advice from a bunch of drunk writers who passed Rim Jobs 101 before they passed Driver’s Education? That’s like exercising when you could just eat a different kind of frozen pizza—sure, it makes no difference, and you don’t get to eat the kind of pizza you like, but hey, you tried. And that’s all anyone really wants during sexy times: half-assed, insincere effort that doesn’t result in an orgasm. Do This: End every muttering during the deed with an oldtimey term of endearment such as “dear,” “love,” or “Old Blue Eyes.” Not That: Moan their name loud enough for your roommate to decide he’s moving out if you don’t get dumped soon. By using their name multiple times, your partner is automatically going to assume that you can’t remember what it is, and are perpetually reminding yourself in order to not accidentally name drop the robot hooker-slave you hired/exploited last week. Play it safe—by saying “dear,” and “honey,” over and over, it will invoke sweet memories of their grandma serving them cookies and chocolate milk, and thus make them more comfortable in your bum. Do This: Send them pictures of your cat.
Not That: Send them dick pics. Just look at the history of men who do the ol’ fap n’ snap before sending said snapshots to a poor, unsuspecting woman. She doesn’t want to see that, but hey, everyone enjoys a candid shot of a furry pussy (cat). Do This: Hide condoms, lube, and any toys around the house so that you can have a dirty scavenger hunt right when you want each other most. Even better, don’t keep the necessary items in the house so that you can share a steamy trip to Meijer in the dead of winter. Nothing gets the blood pumping like struggling to scan a box of choco-condoms in the selfscan aisle. Not That: Be prepared. Being prepared makes you seem like a Boy Scout, who are, generally, grossly under-aged and grossly inexperienced to deliver the kind of pleasure we’re in search of. Do This: Proposition him for sex on the toilet. Not That: Try to bang him in the shower. Shower sex has been done more times than Sasha Grey, and, let’s face it, was it all that hot to begin with? Frankly, it was too hot, too sweaty, too awkward, too occasionally cold if you’re not standing in the right place, too slippery in a bad way, and damn near impossible when working with an unfortunate height difference. Instead of getting flushed with embarrassment when you nearly dislocate your hip trying to acrobat your way into sweet lovemaking in the shower, consider a different kind of flush. You might discover some pleasures of a different kind (of an anal variety, we're down with butt stuff).
PARTY ON THE PATTY’O Four Fire Pits On The Deck
Do This: Didn’t we already mention rim jobs? Not That: If we’re talking eat this, not that—because this article would be incomplete without such a joke, according to The Black Sheep’s writer’s manual—never, ever go to the conventional, chain types of places to munch when you can just toss a salad a home. And we quit; because the only thing that could possibly follow that last sentence is a line about restaurants, calories, and unsavory comparisons of various foods to sexual organs. Quite frankly, if there are two things we don’t like to mix together, they’re food and sex. Unless, of course, that food is bacon, but we’ve already beaten that dead horse to several more deaths.
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The Bar Grid FRI: Goombas Pizza Fest! MONDAY-THURSDAY 6 - 9pm: $0.75 Slices of Pizza, $3.50 HAPPY HOUR! 3P.M. - 7P.M.: PBR Pitchers, $3 Long Islands $3 Well Drinks, $3.50 23oz Domestic Drafts, $1 Off All Wines, 9 - close: $1.25 Pizza Slices, $5 PBR $1 Off All Appetizers Pitchers, $3 Long Islands
SATURDAY! ST. PRACTICE DAY $3 Green Pints, $3 Guiness Pints $3 Bushmills, $3 Dirty Girl Scouts $5 Car Bombs
Specials Run 7 Days A Week Open-Close! Go Green! Open @ 10am on St Patrick's Day!
SPECIAL NIGHT
21+, NEW HOURS NEW SPECIALS POOL, 9HD TV'S & DARTS GOOMBAS PIZZZA EVERY FRIDAY
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
$2 Well Drinks $2.50 Bud & Bud Light Bottles $3 Bud Lt Platinum $3 White Gummy Bear Shots DJ BIG MIKE
$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, 3/13
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
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
3P.M. - 8P.M. BURGER BASH $1 Burgers $1 Fries 1/2 OFF Drinks (excludes top shelf liqours) 8P.M. - Close: 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 Domestic Pints & Wells $3 Premium/Micro/Craft Pints $3.50 Beef Schawarma Sandwiches, $5.50 Falafel Salads & $6 Chicken Schawarma Salads
THURS, 3/14
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: 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
$3 All Drafts $3.50 Jack Daniels $3 SoCo Lime and Kamikazes DJ Big Mike
$2 Domestic Pints & $4 Bombs $3 Captain & Bacardi Drinks $2 Washington Apple Shots Cheeseburger Combo/Falafurger Combo w/ Pitcher $11 Dom/$13 Craft
FRI, 3/15
Martini Night 6-cl! Free Taco Bar $3 Bud Lt & Labatt, NEW $6 Martinis & NEW $6 Bloody Marys $6 Breakfast Buffet 1am-close
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
ST. PRACTICE DAY $3 Green Pints, $3 Guiness Pints $3 Bushmills, $3 Dirty Girl Scouts $5 Car Bombs
$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, 3/16
Best Pattys Party in Town! Doors Open at 7AM Complimentary Breakfast Buffet 1st 150 People get a FREE T SHIRT Live Entertainment, Food and Irish Drink Specials ALL DAY SLAINTE'
Happy St Patty's Day! $6 All You Can Eat 10am-4pm!
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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
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$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, 3/18
NEW HOURS NEW SPECIALS POOL, 9HD TV'S & DARTS GOOMBAS PIZZZA EVERY FRIDAY
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
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
$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, 3/19
21+, NEW HOURS NEW SPECIALS POOL, 9HD TV'S & DARTS GOOMBAS PIZZZA EVERY FRIDAY
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
$2 Well Drinks $2.50 Bud & Bud Light Bottles $3 Bud Lt Platinum $3 White Gummy Bear Shots DJ BIG MIKE
$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, 3/20
$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. Great St Pat's Specials All Day!
SUN, 3/17
page 10
theblacksheeponline.com
Would You Rather: St. Patty’s Edition Cody wrote this So it’s St. Patrick’s Day and you’re either on the bathroom floor wishing your mother had never even given birth to you, or you’re just drunk at a buddy’s house screaming intelligible nothings. If you’re the former, our hearts go out to you in the deepest way possible. We’ve all been there, just be proud as you spew your breakfast and bile all over your newly-bought Spartan tank top that was so so perf for St. PaTtY’S! However, if you’re just standing around, waiting in line for the bar, or waiting in line to vomit, how about play our little game—a game we like to call Would You Rather. Here’s how it’s played: We give a “would you rather” situation for you to read aloud to your friends. The floor is now open for the rest of the group to ask you questions about the scenarios, so that they may narrow down their choice. We’ll provide some of the extra information for you to answer these questions, but if your friends are highly inquisitive just make up some answers, smarty pants! At the end, your contestants pick which situation they want to go with and you decide a winner based on your questionable, arbitrary judgments! Ready? Go! Would you rather be passed out for the entire St. Patrick’s Day on a filthy bathroom floor or grow a mullet each time you take a shot of any hard liquor? EXTRA INFO FOR HOST: If they choose the pass out on a bathroom floor, they must know that they’re getting peed on about once every minute until their body fluid is 50% piss. Also, this untimely sleepiness happens to them around ten in the morning and they don’t wake up until about three A.M. after the bar closes, so they’re forced to stay in the bar until it opens again on March 18th. If they choose the mullet, they’ll have to cut it off every time it grows, and it grows instantaneously after they take a shot. Also, there is no beer or wine, so if they want to drink it must be liquor, thus, they’re forced to perpetually shave their mullet. After all, they’re also raging alcoholics in this scenario. Say goodbye to a functional life! Would you rather have an assignment due at the end of St. Patrick’s Day or be an RCAH student? EXTRA INFO: If they choose the assignment, it’s a required ten-page research, and if they don’t complete it by the end of St. Patrick’s Day, they get kicked out of college and Lou Anna K. Simon gets to burn their childhood home to the ground. Also, the professor doesn’t assign it until eight in the morning on St. Patrick’s Day, but they’re allowed to have as much Adderall as they want.
If they choose to be an RCAH student, they’re forced to live a life of sadness and rejection, from both other people and the working world. Further, they have to dress like a hipster and only drink PBR for the rest of their time at college, even if trends change and suddenly both of those tasks become un-ironic. Would you rather have sex with your grandparent of the opposite sex or become a University of Michigan fan? EXTRA INFO: This is pretty self-explanatory. If they choose to be a Michigan fan, they lose everything: this game, their savings, their friendship tattoo that they’ll now have to cheese grate off. They are the lowest of the low. Punch them in the face, even if it’s your girlfriend, we don’t give any fucks! If they choose the grandparent option, said grandparent, whether they’re dead or alive, is way more into the boinking than they are. Also, said grandparent lacks discretion when it comes to reunions or Christmas dinner. And that, friends, is how you play Would You Rather! Have fun, but as always, have a safe and MIP-free St. Patrick’s Day!
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page 11
the black sheep mobile | for iphone & android
bartender of the week Eric dublin square Major: Criminal Justice Nickname: Luda Bar pet peeve: Touching (hands off the help please!)
Dance Club or Dive Bar: Dive Ideal pre-drinking meal: Dranks
Favorite beer: Smithwicks'
If you were to have a drink named after you, what would it be called: The Luda
What’s the best line someone has used to get a free drink from you: “It’s my girl’s birthday”
Liquor of choice: Crown Royal, and after a couple—anything in front of me.
Best old time bar sing-a-long: Anything by Journey
What’s your drink limit: The sky is the limit
Worst pick up line you’ve heard at last call: “What time do you get off?”
Favorite drinking game: Nope. I’m 33.
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S t. p A T R I C K' S D A Y Brought To You By The Guys Who Made The Hangover And Other Sweet College Partyin’ Movies In case you didn’t know, The Black Sheep dabbles in more than just print and porn. A few weeks back we had the opportunity to meet with a bigwig executive at a movie makin’ company. “This is our big shot,” we thought. We couldn’t blow it; we had to come up with an idea that no one could turn down. And what’s one movie that seems impossible to kill off? Star-studded ensemble holiday movies, of course! So we marched into that executive’s office ready to pitch The Black Sheep Presents: Star-Studded St. Patrick’s Day The Movie. Since this idea was so golden, so perfect, so mouth-wateringly fresh, we brought a tape-recorder so that we could send our pitch to other movie companies… just in case this guy was actually stupid enough to pass on the idea. The Black Sheep: Hi Mr. [redacted] nice to meet you! Are you ready to hear our pitch? Executive: I suppose, but let’s make it snappy. I’m eating sushi off of a naked woman in 20 minutes. The Black Sheep: No problemo! Okay, the scene opens on a lush green field on a quiet morning in southern Ireland – yes, Ireland. Then, out of nowhere, a stout little leprechaun -- played by Adam Sandler or Tracy Morgan, because, as an offensive racial stereotype would say, “a leprechaun ain’t black!?” -- runs across the screen with a HUGE bong in his hand. He turns back and yells “You’ll never get me POT of gold!” He’s being chased, but by whom? Drunk guys clad in St. Patrick’s Day gear – Sean William Scott and Ryan Reynolds. Then, freeze frame on Sean and Ryan diving after the leprechaun, (maybe they miss, and accidentally pull down a girl’s shirt instead, and there’s like, these huge tits on this huge screen, except the nipples are green, like St. Patrick’s Day! It doesn’t matter where the girl came from, we’ll figure that out in production. Titles SMASH into the screen, “Star-Studded St. Patrick’s Day, The Movie.” Executive: Okay, I like boobs on the opening scene – always an eye-catcher. Make them golden boobs, for St. Patrick’s Day. Otherwise, I don’t see where this is going, and my naked sushi is waiting. TBS: (flipping through pages and pages of loose paper) Okay, okay… Here! So basically, Ryan O’Toole (Ryan Reynolds) and Brady McDuff (Sean William Scott) are looking for the perfect solution to day drinking without falling asleep. In their search they run into a crazy German coke dealer (Kevin James), an uppity high school Adderall dealer (Andy Milonakis), a Scottish
butcher obsessed with “meaty bits,” that is, if we can get Mike Meyers, who tells them they must travel to Ireland – the land of drinking to find the “Irish Trifecta, the three-leaf clover of drinking.” Executive: Okay, this is starting to get better, but what’s going to make it stand out from all the other comedy romps out there? TBS: Well, Ryan and Brady finally find a secret book that spells out the Irish Trifecta – green beer, gold boobs (we winked at the executive upon saying this), and a very special strain of weed found on a marijuana farm that photosynthesizes from refracted light. “A rainbow!” say Brady and Ryan to each other, looking up from the ancient book. Executive: Amazing. TBS: (our voices gathering excitement) So Brady and Ryan have their work cut out for them. The conflict: Where do they find these three things? Well green beer is everywhere, and they start hilariously drinking too much of it – we’re thinking a montage of these two getting super hammered and dancing around Ireland, pulling down girls’ shirts to see if they have “golden boobs” – who wouldn’t watch that? It’s gold. So after that 20-minute montage, we’re thinking they finally realize “boobs” didn’t mean “breasts,” but rather the archaic English meaning of “dolts.” Sean and Ryan look at each other – half naked, covered in Goldschläger sitting in a pool of green beer in Colin Farrell’s Irish castle with 21 bare-boobed women – “That’s us!” they say. It’s a revelation! Colin Farrell looks up from a line of coke, “DUH DOY!!!!!” he says! Executive: Ok, I’m putting through word to get this into production right now. Do we have a screenplay? Actually never mind that, we’ve still got the broomstick that fell on a keyboard and wrote Hangover III on retainer from BroBible.com. But, how does it end!? TBS: Okay, so Brady and Ryan now have two parts of the Irish Trifecta – all they need is the pot at the end of the rainbow, but they can only get there via helicopter. Whose helicopter? EDDIE MURPHY’S! He’ll be playing a black Irish millionaire who loves to PARTY! Again, remember, Irishland doesn’t have a whole lot of black people, so him doing that accent will be really funny. Executive: Eddie Murphy’s awful expensive, boys.
TBS: Also, his helicopter will be blasting, “Party All the Time,” like that scene in Apocalypse Now. That’s like, double nostalgia. Executive: I GET IT! Uh, okay, wait. When did they find out where the rainbow weed was? TBS: …They just know… because… Ryan had a dream where he saw Vanilla Ice dressed as a leprechaun show him the field, so he like, knows what it looks like. Executive: … Works for me! TBS: Okay, so they get in Eddie Murphy’s helicopter and find the rainbow weed, but unfortunately Adam Sandler/Tracy Morgan leprechaun is guarding it. But we know you're short on time Mr. [redacted], so we’ll get to the end, just to prove we definitely haven’t not thought out the ending. This is where the chase from the beginning happens, and they chase the leprechaun into his layer. And what do they find there? Women, with golden boobs! “There really are golden boobs!” they say! And after talking to the leprechaun (who will say hilarious things like “Kiss me I’m stoned!” and “I’m higher than Tommy Pickles’ dad!” 90’s nostalgia is so “win” with kids these days!) they realize he can’t visit big Irish cities because he’ll get caught and sold as a leprechaun slave like his ancestors. Therefore, he’s been unable to obtain green beer and instead guards the two other constituents of the Irish Trifecta, waiting for the right two people to bring him green beer. But Ryan, Brady, and Eddie don’t have any green beer on them! So the four of them all get super stoned on rainbow weed – cue hilarious stoner montage – when they come up with a great idea: put the sad, dejected leprechaun on stilts and treat him like a human! They head to the nearest city, Dublin, and fuse the Irish Trifecta. A sick golden three-leaf clover rises above the bar and everyone goes crazy, but the leprechaun falls off his stilts… silence, shock, awe (are people going to capture him?)… no! Everyone keeps partying, treating him as an equal, not a novelty. So he buries his face in some golden boobs, and declares that everyone shall day drink without repercussions for all St. Patty’s Days to come! Executive: The end! I love it! and just got word that the broomstick has the first draft done already!
play st. patty's day bingo! Nudity
Green Beer
Someone Crying
A Paddy Wagon
Drunk Old Man
Someone Asleep
Striped Socks
A Cop
A Beer bong
Greenman
Green Eggs or ham
A Fight
Leprechaun Hat
A Wipeout
Dropkick Murphys Shirt
This Sign
A Makeout
Outdoor Peeing
A Bags Game
Puke
A Drinking ticket
A Drunk asian
Marijuana paraphernalia
Indoor Sunglasses
six degrees
of separation think you know how aaron paul and brad pitt are connected?
1285 32// 1 1/18 / 3 2
Varsity smith westerns
Thunder Clatter
wild cub
Noises email us at classtime@theblacksheeponlne.com and if you’re right, you’ll win a prize! how cool is that?
mike mains & the branches
The Calling
cloud cult
Well you better
1 2 3
4
yo la tengo
You can’t fix me balance and composure
Thanks for nothing, becky Gelke wayne szalinski
Gates the menzingers
Bloodshake peace
5
Pick Me up broadheds
the crossword: Things that are green Across 2) St. Patty’s Day mascot. 5) Spanish for green (salsa). 6) Snooki loves to drink its juice. 8) The winner of this gets a green jacket. 9) No matter how many times you cut it, it always grows back. 12) An edible, mini tree. 14) Guacamole, essentially. 17) Normally paired with spinach and pita bread. 19) A minty McDonald’s
shake. 20) Jim Henson’s most famous creation. Down 1) Mad Christmas H8R. 2) She put this in the coconut, and drank them both up. 3) Not to be confused with a crocodile. 4) Ganja, baby. 7) The capital city in the Land of Oz. 10) Luke’s teacher, he was. 11) He can blow a bubble with his bum bum bum. 13) Prickly son of a bitch. 15) They are black, too. 16) Delicious when drizzled with ranch. 18) This city dyes their river green.
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