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Vol. 5, Issue 13
The College Newspaper That's Actually About College
!
11/21/13 - 12/5/13
Thanksgiving: stuck
at College Edition BY: Kalsey Hanratty Well dudes, the holidays are here. You know, the ones that matter. Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and if you’re too broke to get home, or maybe your family just has other plans this year that don’t really include you, no worries. The Black Sheep is here to help lift your spirits in these desperately lonely times. We’ll be here for you when your family isn’t. Thanksgiving is a time of food, really good food and really expensive food. You don’t realize how expensive food is until your parents aren’t the ones putting it in front of your face. That 13lb turkey your mom slaved over last year was roughly $20. That doesn’t sound like a lot, but when you add the gravy, the stuffing, sweet potatoes, baked macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole, cornbread, corn, mashed potatoes, rolls, apple pies, pumpkin pies, cookies, and just how god damned long it takes to cook it all and oh lawd, you’re really poor. This Thanksgiving you’re going to make an amazing Thanksgiving meal for under $50 and it will be great. The Black Sheep has come up with some great substitutions for that amazing homemade meal full of fluffy warm bread that melts in your mouth. Mmm just imagine the… STOP IT, focus, you can do this.
For the turkey, you can splurge on a small one that will cost too much and take way too long to prepare, or you can get a rotisserie chicken that costs about a quarter as much and tastes six times better. Yes, six times, we did the science. BAM! Baked macaroni and cheese is way overrated these days. You know what’s way better and that we bet you haven’t had in a whopping five days? Kraft macaroni and cheese, of course. A trick to making it even more amazing is to use two cheese packets per box. Yes, this leaves you with extra elbow macaroni noodles, but you can save them for buttered noodles later in the week. BAM! Green bean casserole looks grody, and it looks way too complicated to make, so we’ll skip this dish. No bam. Mashed potatoes are easy and super delicious, they’re also cheap to make whether you have a mixer and use real potatoes or if you just buy the box of dandruff flakes, which are surprisingly delicious and absurdly cheap. They cost literally less than you pay to take the bus to Target and back. BAM! A side item that goes unappreciated every year is the stuffed mushroom. It’s
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quite delicious if you like mushrooms, and all you have to do is ask your weed dealer if he has any mushrooms. If he does, just toss those puppies in the Easy Mac and soon you’ll find your movie
posters and beanbags are all the company you need this Thanksgiving. MUSHROOM BAM! The Black Sheep doesn’t want to see you
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prolong senior year, or graduate trying
because it’s hard out there on the streets.
go hungry this year, so get to the store and grab the few things you need to satisfy your oversized Thanksgiving stomach and spend whatever you have left over on beer. P-BAM-R!
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Club Cabell Sign-up Begins
The First Fratsgiving
Put on your best sweatpants to try to get in at the hottest spot on campus.
Colony bros and indian hoes does not go over well at Grandma’s.
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Puritanicall
of the
Any phone sex session that refuses to use swear words. “If you want to make a puritanicall, simply say, “Oh yeah baby, I want you to massage my man parts while I lick your sex organ.’”
Week Guess The Mascot Tweet Us @BlackSheep_VCU First right answer wins a prize! Last Week’s Answer: The Oregon Duck
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Celebrity Before & After Just like Jeopardy!, our before and after asks you to pair two unlike things, sharing only a word. Because we’re as vapid as the rest of you, a celebrity name will always be involved. Tweet your answer @BlackSheep_VCU and use #goodtimes for a chance to win a prize!
Big-headed fratire founder could use this 80s computer-generated host to help house an inflated ego.
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Campus Deals,
Black Friday By: Sabrina Fuller
You may think that all of the best Black Friday deals are at large shopping centers. What you may not know is that some of the best steals you could possibly encounter are right here on VCU’s campus. Before you waste precious gas on a Walmart run, you might want to look into the deals that downtown Richmond has to offer. For example, did you know that during Black Friday you can pay a homeless person in Bumroe Park just $5.99 (or a Shafer pizza) to wash a bike or longboard? What better gift to give your roommate this winter? They shouldn’t be riding around on anything less than immaculately clean. Just ask if you can borrow their ride and bring it back in even better condition. It’s a thoughtful, practical gift, and you’d be giving someone a job this season. Welcome to the 1%! Live in a dorm? consider bribing your mailroom attendant with a cool $20 for an unclaimed package that’s been sitting around for a couple of weeks. Who knows what could be inside the mystery box? It could be an H&M sweater that some girl from NOVA bought with daddy’s credit card, or it could be a sack of meth left by that girl down the hall who recently “dropped out” (died). The possibilities are endless! However, if your mailroom mystery box happens to be a care package (probably belonging to a freshman in a kush coma), The Black Sheep recommends you keep that gift for yourself.
Maybe you actually want to know what you’re getting before you fork over $20. That’s understandable. If the mailroom idea doesn’t do it for you, consider making the VCU Free and For Sale page your “cyber Monday.” Be warned, you may not end up saving 30% on a slightly fingerprinted, definitely porned-up iPad mini for your dad. College kids can be pretty enterprising, so you might have to practice some haggling skills, even more haggling than you did with the bum in Monroe Park earlier. Put some muscle in your hustle! If you’re interested in getting your family some VCU-specific swag, check out the bookstores on campus. TEN whole percent off all purchases this Black Friday. What a steal! That means the “VCU Mom” mug you’ve been eyeing will only cost you $50. That hoodie that your BFF has been eyeing will be marked down to $65.67, which might be the best deal you’re going to get if you want “authentic” “high quality” gear. Considering how fascist the bookstores on campus are, you should really appreciate the small discounts they do squeak out, and smile when you swipe your card, because at any second they could jack up the price of the chem book you may still need to buy before finals. This Black Friday, you can skip elbowing old women in Best Buy or arguing with thirteen year olds over a copy of GTA V. Instead, shop in the comfort of your own campus, sip a peppermint mocha and watch the stampedes in the comfort of your own dorm.
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Prolong Senior Year, or Graduate Trying By: Nathan Heintschel VCU senior, Mike Hunt, less than a month from graduation, decided the clock had struck who-gives-a-shito’clock. Hunt, like many seniors, was excited to graduate at the end of this fall semester — his application was approved, he had an internship set up in New York, and his girlfriend was abruptly cut loose. Now all he had to do was pass his classes… However, Hunt, after having way too much fun during Halloween party week, and after much reflection, decided he didn’t want the party to stop. He knew he couldn’t withdraw from classes because his parents would cut him off faster than the Pain Olympics. He decided if he was going to stay another semester, he needed to strategically tank the month of November, fail his exams, and convince his parents over winter break that he tried really hard. After hearing of Hunt’s intentions a few months back, The Black Sheep decided to closely follow the steps Hunt took in the final month of the semester to prolong his time here at VCU. Step 1: Destroying His Participation Grade: Hunt began destroying his participation grade by skipping class
the way bums skip baths. After taking his attendance rates to the brink of receiving a W, he began to systematically enrage his professors. First, Hunt would leave his cell phone on, mass texting funny pictures to his friends. The rapid responses of “haha” and “lol” to the mass texts would almost shut down Hunt’s phone as his “Don’t Drop That Thun Thun” ringtone blared over and over. Hunt would often eat Taco Bell during class. The combination of masticating with his mouth open and then expelling that signature T-Bell butt wind definitely blew his lectures off course. After gusting winds off of the crest of Mt. Buttloaf, he would begin shouting things that would make Tourette’s Guy cringe: “SOMEONE RUB QUESO ON MY HAIRY NIPPLES, AND THEN SHAVE THE TOPS OF MY FEET!” “DOES ANYONE WANT TO GET ME A BABY HEDGEHOG AND MAKE SEX WITH MY DENTIST WITH ME AT SONIC?!” “WHERE’S MY STEAK?! MY ONEEYED SNAKE HAS A BLACK EYE FROM GETTING BEATEN UP!” Step 2: RIP To His Test Average: Hunt knew his participation grades alone couldn’t prevent commence-
ment. Therefore, he took steps to Chris Brown his test average. Hunt would rip up his test papers and use the scraps to make homemade blaze it sheets. However, his nicotineaddicted professor was so impressed with his rolling skills that he still earned a D on the test. Knowing that a D would sink his chances of sinking his semester, Hunt knew he needed to take sink this ship psychologically as well as physically. In the essays, Hunt began writing whatever racist, anti-sematic things that would come to mind, even if it didn’t make any sense. In response to a financial crisis question on his Econ 200 exam, he wrote “It’s because Jewish people are running the world through their faucet basketball pencil ships, and they need to economy Mexican’s dirty farms. The end.” STEP 3: The Big Project Fails Big Time: Hunt planned to bomb his big semester project for his senior seminar by showing up hungover and passing out. However, his failing grade on the project was little more spontaneous. As Hunt shuffled up to the podium, he began to feel uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to begin his speech, but instead of words, vomit rocketed
from the podium all the way to the back wall in the Temple lecture hall. After exorcising all over the girl who was sleeping in the back corner, Hunt began to run to the bathroom. Unfortunately, he slipped and in his own sick and hit his head on a chair, leaving him knocked out cold. Hunt finally stumbled into MCV a couple hours later to learn that not only had he failed his project, but he was also the first VCU student to get a concussion in class by slipping in vomit. Hunt made a mental note that if he wanted to spoil spring semester, he would just skip the project instead of giving a vom-ologue STEP 4: Fucking Up Finals: Despite Hunt’s tanking efforts, he was still entering finals week with straight Cs because of his early semester successes. Hunt’s professors had excused his activities from November as just nervous jitters over exams. However, as a preventive measure, they said he could not go to the bathroom with his final. Hunt was nervous at first. He didn’t think he could avoid graduation without another shitty performance. Then, he finally realized he could just answer all the questions wrong. First he checked to make sure none of the
questions were about nurturing infant canines, and then wrote “bitch tits” for every answer. He also doodled on his Scantron, for insurance. He turned in the tests and walked out of the testing rooms failing very good about himself. Three weeks later, while Hunt was waiting to pick up his extended family who just touched down to see him graduate, his phone began Thun Thun Thunning to alert him that his final grades were posted. Sure enough, Hunt had failed his classes, and he began to break the news to his parents.
He blamed it on being no longer interested in what he was studying, his devastating breakup with “…Steph…” as well as Adderall poisoning. He then made up for his relatives’ inconveniences by reenacting his big project debacle, with real live vomit. All in all, Hunt was very successful in making sure he did not graduate this 2013 fall semester, and he is now reportedly talking to his advisor to change his double major, which means he’ll be here forever. And he’s just fine with that.
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Ten
Thanksgiving Clichés You’re NOT Looking Forward to This Year By: Elena Correa
10.) All of the “I’m Thankful For” Facebook statuses, tweets, Instagrams, etc.: Wow, we never knew how great of a person you were until seeing you pour your heart out on Facebook every day this month. Oh, you’re just doing it for the likes? WE SEE PAST YOUR TRICKS. 9.) Everyone standing around the kitchen waiting for the food to be ready: “I’m hungry, when’s the food gonna be ready? Take your time though. I see you guys working hard.” Okay, Uncle Fatass, we get it. Why don’t you put that beer down and help out if you’re so damn hungry? 8.) People who can’t think of what they’re thankful for: How about that $500 phone that you only paid $50 for? You know, the one you can’t believe is taking longer than 45 seconds to download Man Of Steel? Somewhere on the other side of the world, a factory worker is laying in their suicide net, shamelessly judging you.
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7.) All that work you’re gonna have to do on the last day of break: Your disgruntled professor had to house his bitchy in-laws for the entire Thanksgiving weekend, and he’s taking it out on you. Enjoy pounding out an 8-page paper due on Monday morning that he just posted at 10 p.m. on Sunday. Oh, you forgot to check your email? MWAHAHAHA! 6.) Pumpkin flavored EVERYTHING: Curse Pinterest for being so crafty and creative with their holiday recipes — pumpkin pie, pumpkin Turkey, pumpkin gravy. Right now, you’re wishing a pumpkin could turn into a horse-drawn carriage. So it could run you over. 5.) Your grandmother judging you for your ever-increasing piercings: You weren’t thinking about your sanctimonious grandmother when you went to get your septum pierced on a whim. But you sure as hell are thinking about it now that she’s giving you the stink eye from across the room.
By: Kalsey Hanratty Finals are quickly approaching, so don’t let them get you up the bum while you’re not looking. The season is a much better experience when you’re paying attention to things like that. The Black Sheep wants to remind you that Club Cabell spots fill up quicker than that shot of Pinnacle you immediately threw up last Friday. We want to make sure you claim your spot in Cabell before you’re banished to your bed, and you know nothing gets done in your bed, not even you. So grab your pillows and blankets and prepare for total conquest, because The Black Sheep is about to tell you how to claim your spot in Club Cabell for the final countdown. Start Early: Obviously, if you claim a spot now you won’t be left to study in the streets when finals grasp their unforgiving knuckles around your face. Despite being a few weeks away, you should get there now. Sure it’ll mean sleeping, eating, and taking poops in Cabell for a few weeks, but it’ll be worth it. Take Kanye West’s only piece of good advice: get your ass to Cabell now and watch the throne. Decide Which Floor You Want to Be On: If there is any chance in hell you might run into a friend, don’t pick the fourth floor. You will be shot, beaten, pummeled silently, then dragged down the stairs to the second floor by your hair, screamed at, drawn on with dry erase markers, and spit on by the premed students. On the other hand, if you need to concentrate but soon find yourself pulling sorority girls down the stairs for talking too much, don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of quiet time in jail. So to avoid all that, make sure you pick the appropriate floor.
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Search the Floor for Seating Options: Tables get uncomfortable after a while, so we suggest comfy chairs or booths. You’re basically picking a temporary living space where you’ll laugh, cry, eat, sleep, and maybe even have sex (if you’re lucky). That being said, being near an outlet is a make-or-break situation, since a dying computer can become the greatest reason ever to leave the library and never study again. Battery dying? Welp, you needed to get home and eat dinner/pound beers/masturbate, anyway. Set Up Camp: Really though. Pillow, blanket, tent, bed pad, sleeping bag, headlamp, granola bars, Clip bars, bottled water, portable cell phone charger, stove burner, fire pit, firewood, marshmallows, toilet paper, binoculars — bring it all. Set something down that will outlast the aggressive study buddies desperate for a seat. A pillow should do — no one wants to touch someone’s pillow that they don’t know, especially if it’s particularly jizz stained. Finals will not be the death of you, but they could be the death of your GPA and your financial assistance from your parents. This, we guess, could lead you to losing your house, dropping out, smoking meth, and getting stabbed on the cold streets of Richmond. So put on your sweatpants, grab your backpack, don’t forget your money for the overpriced coffee and head over to Cabell, where dreams become irrelevant and all that matters is the information on the computer screen that you’ll absorb, retain, and immediately puke out on your test, never to remember or use ever again.
4.) Your cousin making out with this year’s boyfriend all night: There is always the one cousin who has a boyfriend worthy of eating with the family on Thanksgiving. But good gravy, chill with the lip locking. You’re making everyone extremely uncomfortable, especially Uncle Fatass, who’s in a pretend food coma right next to you. 3.) The “adults” around the table jabbering about politics and religion: “Oh yeah, Cuccinelli wanted to make blow jobs a felony! Like, dude, how is that right?” Yeah, you might want to go sit at the kids’ table and talk about boogers for the rest of the night. Lo and behold, no one can come to an agreement on anything, and before you know it, your grandpa will be choking on a piece of bread after your stoner brother puts in his two cents, which is really all he has. 2.) The one family member who constantly complains about his gluten allergy: Every other day he’s talking about all the benefits of being gluten-free and all of those “cool gluten-free” recipes he’s been finding, but tonight all they can do is roll their eyes when you cram gravied up mashed potatoes down your gullet while staring them deep in the eyes. 1.) All those people who start planning their diets immediately after the last bite: After it’s all fed and done, their idea of an awesome Black Friday is 5 hours with Billy Blanks. Get over yourselves.
Around campus Send us your party pics to pics@theblacksheeponline.com
on the Streets This Thanksgiving, what would you like to be stuffed with? hman Jacob, Fres
“I would love to be stuffed with money.”
shman Michael, Fre
“I would like to be stuffed with happiness.”
man Baray, Fresh
“I would like be stuffed with respect.”
07
He knows the cheapest drinks in town and more drinking games than you could ever play.
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The Food and Event Grid SPECIAL NIGHT
Every Friday: Doc & The Keynotes
Thur. 11/21
$2 Taco Night Amelia Jean, Strumpet, Inland Ocean LIVE!
SUNDAY:
Happy Hour: Monday – Friday, 4-7pm
Sunday: $1 Tacos
Tuesday-Saturday! Happy Hour: 4:30pm-7pm $2 off Bar Menu, 1/2 off select bottles of wine
Low Tide (4-8): $2 Off Select Apps RVA Pong! Cash prizes! Signups at 9pm
Happy Hour: Monday – Friday, 4-7pm
Happy Hour 4pm-7pm, 2 Tacos for $3, 11 Styles to choose from!
Happy Hour: 4:30pm-7pm $2 off Bar Menu, 1/2 off select bottles of wine
Fri. 11/22
Doc & The Keynotes
Low Tide (4-8): $2 Off Select Apps Live Music & DJs Every Weekend! NO COVER!
No Cover! Live Music at 9:30pm Happy Hour: Monday – Friday, 4-7pm
Happy Hour 4pm-7pm, 2 Tacos for $3, 11 Styles to choose from!
Happy Hour: 4:30pm-7pm $2 off Bar Menu, 1/2 off select bottles of wine
Sat. 11/23
Live Music!
Live Music & DJ’s Every Saturday Night!
Check Us Out During the Week for Happy Hour: Monday – Friday, 4-7pm
Come in on Sunday for $1 Tacos!
Happy Hour: 4:30pm-7pm $2 off Bar Menu, 1/2 off select bottles of wine
Pitcher of Bud Lt., Coors Lt. or Miller Lt. AND a Plate of Jumbo Wings for $11.99 We have Sunday Ticket! Every NFL Game, Every Sunday
Check Us Out During the Week for Happy Hour: Monday – Friday, 4-7pm
$1 Tacos!!!
Piano Brunch!
Open Mic Night w/ Stretch & The Elastics 9pm Sign-up, 10pm Start
Low Tide 4-8 pm: $2 OFF Select Apps
Happy Hour: Monday – Friday, 4-7pm
Happy Hour 4pm-7pm, 2 Tacos for $3, 11 Styles to choose from!
Closed
Tues. 11/26
Salsa Night w/ DJ Steve Greene
Low Tide (4-8) $2 Off Select Apps Burger Special Buy One, Get One free Te-quil-ya Tuesdays
1/2 Price Burger Night! 4-11pm, Dine-in Only Happy Hour: Monday – Friday, 4-7pm
Happy Hour 4pm-7pm, 2 Tacos for $3, 11 Styles to choose from!
Happy Hour: 4:30pm-7pm $2 off Bar Menu, 1/2 off select bottles of wine
Wed. 11/27
Live Music!
Low Tide (4-8) $2 Off Select Apps College Night! Show Your ID For Great Specials
Happy Hour: Monday – Friday, 4-7pm
Happy Hour 4pm-7pm, 2 Tacos for $3, 11 Styles to choose from!
Happy Hour: 4:30pm-7pm $2 off Bar Menu, 1/2 off select bottles of wine
Sun. 11/24 Mon. 11/25
Emilio’s Brunch Starting at Noon! Plus 1/2 Off Wings Radio Rubber Room Live Music Series at Night
Pitcher of Bud Lt., Coors Lt. or Miller Lt. AND a Plate of Jumbo Wings for $11.99 We have Sunday Ticket! Every NFL Game, Every Sunday
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Hamocrats
War on Thanksgiving By: black sheepstaff Thanksgiving: Pilgrims came over in giant ships that were awful and contained more disease than a frat house bathroom, the food was abysmal, children starved, and giant sea monsters you’ll never hear about thanks to the liberal media attacked the pilgrims every step of the way. After the long and torturous sojourn, they landed at Plymouth Rock, and after a hella-good harvest, some Puritan was like, “Fuck it, let’s eat all this food at once until we can’t move and have to sleep for 16 hours.” Everyone else fervently agreed and thus Thanksgiving was born. Although we still celebrate Thanksgiving and all its glorious traditions, some contemporary families have declared war on the holiday. And no, we’re not talking about your druncle who says “But American Indians weren’t even at the first Thanksgiving, so why can’t I wear sweats to th-zzzzz?” No, we are of course talking about those Thanksgivers who cook ham instead of turkey on this blessed day. We want to begin by pointing out the ob-
vious fact that no one in their right mind calls it “Ham Day” for short, they rightfully declare Thanksgiving “Turkey Day.” What the hell would “Ham Day” even entail? Roasting a pig while some dude with a ponytail plays Meatloaf covers on the ukulele? This is Thanksgiving, not a Hawaiian bar mitzvah. Pig roasts are only acceptable for to specific occasions: The aforementioned Jewish coming-of-age celebrations and the day we set aside for remembering the Bay of Pigs, but only as an ironic statement about the failed structure of Cuban socialism. Nonetheless, ham needs to squeal its way off of our Thanksgiving tables. We all know what this really means, though. It’s a liberal effort to bring down the religious sanctity of Thanksgiving, with the efforts of the liberal media, such as Rachel Ray and Guy Fieri, giving families “great alternative recipes for Thanksgiving feasts.” We know what alternative means: gay or socialist. Truth be told, the left-wing media has had it out for Thanksgiving and what the
holiday means for years. Thanksgiving, as the pilgrims would have it, is about the Puritanical beliefs adhered to on the first feast. It’s there so we can celebrate the bounty that God hath provided throughout the year so we can receive his happiness in the year to come. And as the Bible says, around Chapter 10 of Psalms, or Proverbs, or John, or somewhere near the front: “Thou shall not eat pigs, except in the form of bacon, and definitely not on the day of Thanks, which will later be called Thanksgiving, and will mainly be celebrated in the United States, on the fourth Thursday of November, and on the second Monday of October in Canada. On this day they main dish shall be Turkey and everybody who says different is a liar and a sinner.” We are not paraphrasing, look it up. Or do you not own a Bible, you liberal media whore? Now, some of you may say, “But, I have an allergy to all kinds of fowl, and if I eat Turkey then I’ll die.” Not to sound unsympathetic or anything, but tough nuts, pal. We’re not going to back down because of
some weak-ass dietary restrictions (which of course sound like made-up hippie nonsense to us). If you’re hungry, go eat another biscuit and be thankful you’re not one of those gluten-free assholes. Allergies are 90% psychological and can be cured by sheer will power and large amounts of Echinacea. Jesus wasn’t allergic to anything. Anything but bullshit. We love Thanksgiving here at The Black Sheep, and we’re thankful that we have a day to show how much more thankful we are than everybody else, thankfully. But when you go and mess with the sacred
holiday, we have to put our foot down and tell it how it is. We don’t always like this job, but somebody has to do it. So do us a huge favor and when Mom or Granny, or whichever female cooks the Thanksgiving feast in your household suggests that you change things up this year and make a glazed ham instead of a succulent stuffed turkey, call them a terrorist and throw that piece of shit in the trash. Obama might have won health care, but we’ll shut the government down again if we have to in order to end the War on Thanksgiving.
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The Five Stages of “What Would I Say?” sort
Brooke Gabriel shared an article: The new Facebook app “What Would I Say?” brings with it two things: 1.) A reminder that Facebook apps are still a thing, and 2.) Such advanced, mind-blowing technology that can only be described as the Internet’s answer to magnetic poetry. Basically, this program goes through your Facebook account, chops up every sentence and phrase you’ve ever posted on there, and then stitches new ones together into a sort of wordcollage. And just like collaging, sometimes you wind up with an incoherent jumble (think back to art class in first grade, or a sad girl’s “dream board”), and other times you get the Facebook equivalent of a portrait of a guy’s face made up of smaller pictures of the same dude’s face. And while this might appear harmless upon first glance, The Black Sheep has noticed some disturbing trends are starting to emerge among chronic WWIS users. After spending several hours generating statuses and eating raw cookie dough in our Snuggies lots of careful research, we’ve discovered that there are five stages of WWIS use. Those of you who completed an introductory psych class will notice that they’re the five stages of grief, but in reverse. It’s our hope that you share these with your friends and family to protect them, and yourself, from the inevitable emotional toil that comes from reliving Facebook past:
Acceptance:
In this stage, everything’s hunky-dory with you and your youbot. It’s easy to forget how funny and brilliant you are, and it’s great that your pal WWIS is here to remind you that you’ve always been this way. Remember that time when you posted that hilarious “Thanks, Obama!” status last year? WWIS does, and it’s here to show you that it’s even funnier when you mush it together with this years’ equally brilliant post about how much you hate doing homework. “Homework on the first day of the semester?? THANKS, OBAMA!” Oh, you! When was the last time someone really got you this way? This youbot knows your favorite sports teams, the things that matter to you, and always seems to say the right thing at the right time. It’s like you’ve hit that magical point in a relationship where you start to finish each other’s FRIDAY NIGHT ugh homework the weather partaaay!
Depression:
The acceptance phase—in which your love of “What Would I say” could fill the Grand Canyon-- can last for quite a while, and those with lives and/or any semblance of a work ethic may never pass it, but for those who don’t (we’re looking at you, guy who has a paper due in less than 12 hours): beware. Eventually, probably after click 200 or so, WWIS will unearth your posts of Facebook past, and the results aren’t pretty. Remember how you used to post Dashboard Confessional/Alkaline Trio/Postal Service/Emo McSadSad lyrics after a particularly trying day of 9th grade? You will soon. WWIS will also eventually remind you just how much you used to lo0o0o0ove your backstabbing skank of a bff, the adorable pet name you called your recent ex, or just how many times you used “your” when you should have written “you’re”. Was past you really that tragic? Let’s see: “my hopes are so hi that ur kiss mite kill meee <333 RUSH TRI DELT 2012” -youbot You tell us.
The Five Stages of “What Would I Say?”
Bargaining:
In this stage, you’re not ready to accept the ugly truth that WWIS has placed before you, and you’ve started to click wildly, hoping that if you just keep hitting “Generate Status” eventually things will go back to the way they were. You may find yourself pleading with the app, “C’mon, WWIS, take something I said to a friend out of context so I can post it on their wall and show everyone what crazy, kooky buddies we are!” Or “What’s it gonna take for me to get you to string a bunch of buzzwords together to show everyone who’s already read my posts once again how topical and witty they are? I’ll do anything – I’ll even click on that donate to the Philippines button if I have to!”
Anger
Eventually, you’ll grow tired of the app’s refusal to give you what you want, and your initial sadness will turn into frustration, even anger. Of course, these feelings are totally valid. After all, you would think that a free app that you found on the Internet would have a little more integrity, right? You’re a busy individual, how dare it waste your time by re-using material from the same post more than once! Also – a ton of this shit doesn’t even make sense, and while you’ve posted some regrettable nonsense, at least your stuff doesn’t sound like a drunk Yoda said it. So take that, WWIS! And another thing! Sometimes this youbot doesn’t even try to be clever, it just regurgitates your shit verbatim. You came here expecting to be dazzled, and your Facebook friends deserve better than just original content that you think up yourself. Seriously, how lazy can this app be?
Denial:
You’ve reached the conclusion that WWIS really just doesn’t get you. You’re much more complex than this youbot character, and your Facebook posts are much more eloquent and nuanced than whatever thought-jumble this silly app can whip up. Also, you’re pretty sure there’s a fault in the software, because you definitely didn’t hop onboard the “Kony 2012” train like all of those other chumps, and it seems to be under the impression that you’d say “SHARE KONY 2012scarf weather luvvv”. At this point, you’re not 100% sure where exactly the app’s getting its information from, but you’re certain that it’s not from your Facebook page. And just to prove a point, you go to post the most you-ish status that you can possibly think of, but then get sidetracked looking at all of the “What Would I Say?” posts from friends in your Newsfeed. Huh, these are pretty funny… maybe I should go check it out again…
Bartender of the Week Relationship Status: Committed Major: Double major: Biochemistry and International Studies Favorite Drink: White Russians Favorite Shot: Irish breakfast Disgusting Drink: Any pineapple shooter If you could replace the turkey as Thanksgiving’s centerpiece, what food would you replace it with?: I would replace it with lots of chocolate. What three items goes in your college cornucopia?: I would have a coffee maker, tablet and Ugg Boots. What balloon would you float in the Macy’s Day Parade?: I would like a huge bottle of Wild Turkey bourbon and hand out free samples.
Karen of New York Deli
Drinking Game
What fast food item would be better if it were made with turkey?: They need to make turkey nuggets. How racist is the phrase “BLACK Friday”?: I don’t personally think it’s racist at all. But for real, dark meat or light meat?: I prefer dark meat because it’s juicier. What if turkeys were actually made out of horses?: I would be horrified because horses are elegant creatures and turkeys aren’t brilliant.
Why should people read The Black Sheep?: People should read The Black Sheep for random humor.
Recipe for disaster
Happy Shotsgiving (and Taking)
Cranberry Apple Crisp
Not all families are totally cool with the whole “drinking during family parties” thing. If you’re stuck in one of those families, there’s still a way to get your buzz on discreetly with a cousin or two.
Thanksgiving dinner has many staple items that everyone seems to look forward to every year—stuffing, pumpkin pie, the turkey (duh) and cranberry sauce. This season, make your own variation on that last one with this recipe we found for Cranberry Apple Crisp.
What You’ll Need: A bottle of Wild Turkey (or anything you’re interested in taking shots or sips of ) and a boat full of gravy. Number of Players: As many as you want. Level of Intoxication: Depends on how wacko your family members are. How to Play: - Take a shot of the Wild Turkey/beer/whatever every time one of these things happen: - That notoriously weird relative does something notoriously weird. - Someone asks, “Do you want light or dark meat?” - Your little cousin complains about eating vegetables. - Someone makes a sex joke about stuffing the turkey. - A balloon blows away during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. - Your football team of choice scores a touchdown. - Someone asks you how long you’re home from school or if you have any job prospects. - You eat so many appetizers you feel stuffed before dinner is served. - The host forgets a dish in the oven and never gets to serve it. - Someone asks for a recipe of someone else’s dish. - Take a shot of the gravy every time one of these things happen: - You take a shot of alcohol that just doesn’t sit right. - You want to grab some more dessert but feel really guilty about it. - Someone leaves early to start Black Friday shopping. - The underdog football team wins. - Someone says you look like you’ve gained or lost weight. The Game Ends When: Everyone goes home, or you’re in the bathroom puking up the delicious meal you just consumed.
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How concerned are you that the turkey getting the presidential pardon ends up spending a bunch of your hard-earned money on Obamacare?: Sounds very relevant.
What You’ll Need: 3 cups chopped/peeled tart apples, 2 cup fresh or frozen cranberries, 1 cup sugar, 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour, 1 and 1/2 cups quick-cooking oats, 1/2 cup flour, 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup melted butter, and 1/4 cup chopped pecans. Cook Time: Just over an hour Fatty Factor: It was on Pinterest; none of that shit is healthy. Let’s Get Baked: - Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. - Grab a bowl and combine the apples, cranberries, sugar and flour. - Grease an 11-inch by 7-inch baking dish and pour in the mixed ingredients. - Mix the oats, flour, brown sugar, melted butter and chopped pecans in another bowl. - Sprinkle these ingredients on top of the dish as a topping. - Bake it for 50-55 minutes or until the fruit is tender. Bring it over to your girlfriend’s house for Thanksgiving and make her family love you … and make yours jealous you’d never do anything like that for them.
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The First
Fratsgiving By: black sheep staff Now, I don’t hate being at home. I like to visit the fam' every once in awhile for a short detox but then I’m back to the kick-ass campus for another retox. Thanksgiving break is just way too long and after what happened last year, I’m not so sure I’m welcome anymore… It was the day before Thanksgiving. My mind was already numb with the constant drone of the damn vacuum cleaner going back and forth in the upstairs hallway. I never had to deal with this shit back on campus. The halls of my frat were caked with food crumbs, old gum and just a splash of alcohol, but no one ever complained about it. Clearly my stay-athome mom had nothing better to do than suck up dust bunnies and bore the hell out of me. I peered over into the kitchen to see my brother John sitting at the table. John was a freshman and the biggest geed you’d ever meet. I had been trying to get him to pledge my frat for weeks in an attempt to pull him out of the bowels of Richmond. I had decided that this was the week I was finally going to
convince him to become a man. “Whaddup, bro?” I slid into the seat next to him with a fresh can of Keystone, a coming home gift I bought for myself even though my dad had some tight bottles of Heineken in the fridge. “So we got that family party tomorrow, you stoked?” “Uh, I guess?” he replied raising his eyebrow over his stupid thick-framed Ray-Bans. “It’s just Thanksgiving at grandma’s.” “A party’s a party, dude! And you know what that means? All the free booze we want … so long as we sneak it in the bathroom. Am I right?” I asked, punching him in the shoulder. He stared at me for a few moments before rolling his eyes and walking away. “Whatever, dude, tomorrow’s going to be epic. You’ll see.” The next morning I woke up ready to start pregaming. I grabbed my bottle of Jäger and threw back some doubles while Skrillex’s “Bangarang” played through my bedroom stereo. After my sixth round, I stumbled into
my brother’s room with a half-tucked in polo and my trusty snapback. “Theme … theme party,” I slurred, “We’re doing ‘Colony Bros and Indian Hos,’ got it? Can I borrow your pilgrim belt?” Not amused and unfazed by my state of drunkenness, John helped me out to the car where my parents were waiting. When we arrived at my grandma’s, I could feel the alcohol leaving my system. I quickly whipped out my flask and chugged down the rest. I was ready to turn this family party up a notch. “Heeeeeyyyyooo!” I yelled as soon as my grandma answered the door. Startled and confused, my entire family stared at me as I fist bumped everyone in the room and gave a little ass squeeze to some of the younger babes in attendance. I began clearing off the dining room table to make room for a game of BP when my grandma dragged me aside. “Christopher, I think you should go into the
m o c . e n i l n O p e e h S k c a l G GAMES TheB IN K IN R D | PECIALS | BAR S ARTICLES
back room and lie down,” she muttered as sternly as an IFC officer. With a head nod up and a wink, I made my way to the “back room,” clearly the OK for me to smoke some hash and increase my appetite. After a quick blaze and a few shots of Listerine mouthwash, I made my way back into the main room where I unexpectedly had the urge to break the seal. Before I could even unzip my fly to take a corner piss, my brother rushed over to stop me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he screamed at me. Before I could protest, I spotted her. Long legs, toned ass and tits like Kate Upton. “Who’s that slampiece?” I wondered aloud, “I’d like to take
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her ass to bucktown.” Horrified, my brother harshly whispered, “Chris, that’s our 12-year-old cousin Claire! She’s in the sixth grade!” But my boozeinfested brain didn’t compute the message, and I slowly made my way over to her. As soon as I opened my mouth to speak, a rush of nausea hit me. At the exact moment my grandmother placed the roasted turkey on the table, I turned and blew chunks over the entire bird. Needless to say, there was really nothing to be thankful for that year when your turkey is covered in regurgitated Jäger. But my parents did decide that it was best for me to head back to campus early. And that, my friends, was the greatest blessing of them all.
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