The Black Sheep
Fr ee at ... l fa ike nc th yr e es silv ta er ur w an ar ts e .
• a college newspaper that’s actually about college •
Volume 2, Issue 3 • 2/21/13 - 2/27/13
theblacksheeponline.com @BlackSheepWVU
high street hobos of lorE tiffany benson wrote this
Once upon a time a WVU student had some work to do. Keith, your average WVU enrollee, had to hit class, go downtown to the bank, buy fish food, and meet a friend for lunch. Ah, the carefree life of the college student. Keith was having a good day, the clouds had rolled back, and the brisk late-winter air kissed his hugover face as he marched on time to his morning class. He meandered down the road, just strolling along when -- BAM! Out of nowhere a creature started screaming at him. It was like none the student had ever seen before. It smelled like garbage, was covered in discolored pieces of clothes and had hair longer than Bigfoot’s. Keith immediately recognized this unruly beast for what it was: A High Street Hobo. Keith had heard of their ilk before, from tales of seniors long-graduated, but he had never encountered such an unruly beast in his own life. The High Street Hobo stared at the student, quiet at first. Keith could tell it was pondering its options. Then, suddenly it started screaming, “Give me money, buddo!” The student ignored him, but the hobo followed. Dedicated to not giving this vagrant a hand-out, the student ignored the man’s prattle, and went to Huntington to get his check cashed. He strolled to Animal House, bought his fish food, and finally started his adventure to Tailpipes to meet his friend for a burger or two. During all of this the High Street Hobo followed. By the time Keith finished his errands the hobo had screamed at him, kicked a pop bottle at him and got a couple of his hobo friends to follow a long. Keith was getting nervous as more and more hobos appeared. The next hobo that bothered him was a lady who reminded him of the old wretch in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the one who beat her cat against the wall. She was partially hunched over and had a slight limp. She was circling in front of the First Baptist Church when she started talking, lightly asking if he had any money. The student didn’t reply. Like Hyde, the transformation took place right before Keith’s eyes. The woman’s eyes went from vacant and distant to fire engine red. Her teeth gnashed and spittle flew from her mouth as she began harassing Keith, saying his backpack was stupid and he looked like an idiot. He soldiered on, determined to not mingle with the native species, even as she tried to spit on him. Turning around, Keith lashed out, “What? Why don’t you get a goddamn job, lady?” Now he’d done it. The tattered clothing didn’t betray her blinding speed. Soon enough she was in full sprint, and Keith was running for his life. Keith slammed the door of Tailpipes behind him. The hoboess was forced to wait outside, as she lacked funds to patronize the shop.
Success! Still, Keith was fed up. How could these great creatures from lore be so goddamn annoying? After ducking into the restaurant to greet his friend, Keith saw more and more hobos circling the building, intent on ruining Keith’s day. Disgusted, he left Tailpipes to find three hobos outside waiting. The student looked up and down the street and saw maybe a dozen more hidden in the alleyways, on the corners and across the church steps. As it dawned on him, how extreme the Hobos of High Street are, he finally cracked. Aggressively he bellowed, “I’m not giving you any money!” These magical words caused the world to change.
A moan deep in the Earth’s core was followed by the ground shaking. The High Street Hobos began looking at one another as terror swept over their faces. One by one they disappeared into poofs of dust as Keith looked on, unsure of what was happening. He felt a hand on his shoulder. As he turned he saw a hobo’s face mere inches from his own. “What…what have you done?” it whispered, before blowing away like ash in the breeze. Keith was unsure of what he had done. At this point he was sure it was a dream, but as he fell to his knees a dog walked up to him, saying “This is no dream, Keith. This is real.” Keith woke up screaming.
what'’s inside You Probably shouldn’t have done that
Bad first impressions are detrimental to your health, learn how to combat them.
page 5
Top 10 Things Professors say
The Pros of Blood Diamonds
Blah, blah, blah, and other stuff that sounds like blah, blah, blah.
Diamonds are forever, but the guilt of buying a blood diamond can be relieved pretty quick!
page 5
page 10
contents
Questions? Comments? Compliments? Insults? info@theblacksheeponline.com
page 4
page 4: Iron Laden to Kitty Maidens: Monopoly’s Strives for Gender Equality A new Monopoly game piece means steps in the right direction for women.
pages 6: from the streets What’s the stupidest thing you have ever done in a bar?
page 7: The Blackout and the Beautiful
Table of
A Morgantown Soap Saga: Part 1
page 9: The Penis Apologies A companion piece to the vagina monologues.
page 11: bartender of the week Megan from Boston Beanery has seen people fall of bar stools, nothing too crazy.
pages 12-13: Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is
page 11
What do our Recipes for Disaster really taste like?
THIS WEEKEND!
FRIDAY & SATURDAY: 52 PICKUP, LIVE ON STAGE
SATURDAY ONLY!: BUBBA SPARXXX IN THE VIP ROOM!
2-4-1 DRINKS!
BOOK YOUR PRIVATE PARTIES NOW! 304-685-9163 345 HIGH ST. | MORGANTOWN, WV
JOE.MAMASMOTOWN
@JOEMAMASMOTOWN
page three p e e h S k The Blaicle App
Pic
of the
Week!
Mob
GAMES G IN K IN R D RTY PICS | A P | S L IA BAR SPEC SCAN TO DOWNLOAD
THE iPHONE APP
SCAN TO DOWNLOAD
THE ANDROID APP
Sexy Anagrams
When Melissa said, “Get in my box,” this is not what she meant.
(Want to become famous next week?) Send us your pic of the week at pics@theblacksheeponline.com
Hay Burp Rim
Do you know who these celebrity hotties are? Send your answers to anagrams@theblacksheeponline.com First five right answers get a prize!
SEX HUT IRON JUT last week’s answers
Malin Akerman & John Legend
word of the week Egocentrick: A delusional personality trait in which a loathed person perceives themselves as popular.
“When Kaylee invited herself to Jason’s party after he called her a bloated sea whore, we knew she was egocentrick.”
page 4
theblacksheeponline.com
Iron Laden to Kitty Maidens: Monopoly’s Strives for Gender Equality Sammie Sea wrote this Think back to your childhood game cabinet. Among the dried clumps of Play-Doh and dust bunnies lies the longest and most frustrating game in history: Monopoly. Not only does the game force the ideas of big business and outrageous taxation onto children, but you can never finish the damn thing! It’s doubtful that anyone has ever truly won this game. And even if they did, they were probably the banker, and should go to jail for embezzlement of funds.
husbands dominate with the clearly superior piece, the racecar. Because really, whether it be for practical use or play, no man ever used the iron without suffering a severe blow to his masculinity. But that’s all changed now. Women have successfully made the transition in the game world from dowdy housekeeper to single cat lady! There’s still the thimble that mildly represents the Betsy Ross sewing fanatic in all women, but let’s take this one step at a time here.
This begs the question, who the hell is still buying this game? At this point, everyone pretty much has an old board lying around their parents’ house. Re-circulate those suckers if you want to have a shitty game night. Hasbro still sees profit in Monopoly, which is shocking in itself. But the fact that they’re trying to revamp the game is just unnecessary.
The cat bears the same stigma as the iron. It’s a woman’s piece. So maybe the equality of the pieces hasn’t evened out but hey, at least we’re out of the kitchen, right? Along with the inherent characteristics that come with being a feminist, such as the unshaven legs, bra-less chest and anger towards any gender roles that resemble “tradition,” also comes the harsh reality that you’re most likely going to end up alone, taking comfort in your hourly meditations with your three cats.
Recently, Hasbro held a poll on their Facebook (they have a Facebook?) asking people to vote on their least favorite Monopoly game piece. Among the options were the wheelbarrow, the boot and the iron—the true bitch pieces. Evidently, the iron was voted the least favorite by voters and got the boot, no pun intended. But what’s even greater about the retirement of the iron is the introduction of the new piece, the cat. That’s right, a cat. You know what that means? There has been a breakthrough in the feminist movement! Gone are the days of women begrudgingly being forced to play as the iron while their
Unfortunately for women, we only have two options in life: devoted wife or single cat lady. Men can get away with being an eternal bachelor, but an eternal bachelorette? Your looks will only get you so far, ladies. But we say embrace it and relish in the triumph of another feminist piece inducted into the game of Monopoly. Apparently, as fate would have it, there seems to be a dispute about the legitimacy of the cat’s victory. There was a subsequent poll, after the poll to retire the iron, that had people vote on the new piece to be added to the game. Among the choices was a robot, a diamond
ring, a helicopter, a guitar and of course, our beloved kitty cat. Many voters believe that the voting was rigged as the robot had a clear lead throughout the entire process. In all honesty, the robot seems to be the obvious choice among the five, but somehow the sly feline seemed to coax its way onto the roster. However it happened, Hasbro seems to be giving Monopoly a couple of facelifts to keep it relevant. Will there be a recount to determine the true victor of this polling? Who knows? Better yet, who really cares? Until someone makes up a Monopoly drinking game that utilizes that weird thimble piece as a shot glass, we’re not buying it.
now hiring!
Why wouldn't you want to work somewhere with unlimited koozies and a "pants are optional" policy?
Marketing, Promotions, Editorial, Writing, Groupies, & More!
apply online at theblacksheeponline.com
the black sheep mobile | for iphone & android
The
page 13
Top 10 Things Professors Say There’s a stereotype of your average college professor: A wound-up guy, overworked, with silly rules and a passion for minutiae. Well, stereotypes exist for a reason. These guys may look the same, and what comes out of their mouth is similar as well. 10.) This will be exactly how the tests look: When a professor says this, be prepared to get slapped across the face with an astoundingly difficult exam. At first you may think they are telling the truth, but you learn. You learn not to believe another word that horrible professor says. 9.) I know I’m preaching to the choir here: About what? The importance of coming to class? Well, we’re not really here by choice, seeing as we have two absences per semester. The only phrase that’s worse is…
You Probably Shouldn’t Have Done That
8.) I don’t take attendance but if you don’t come to class, you’ll fail: Right. You post the notes up on eCampus and all the homework is turned in online. Please tell us how horribly we’re going to fail again? This is a professor’s way of keeping you from your precious beer. 7.) We don’t have a final in this class, but we do have an exam during finals week: An exam? During finals week? Doesn’t that classify as a final? We know you’re the professor and we are the students, but really? How dumb do you think we are? 6.) Homework is optional, but it’s in your best interest to do it: We’re in college. Do you honestly think we’re going to do homework for fun? Come on guy, this is just a random GEC class. No one cares.
Black SHeep Staff wrote this “Nothing is cooler than being yourself,” is what your mom always told you. Then again, she also told you that if you didn’t clean your plate then the Bean Monster would steal you away in the night and make you work on a child labor farm where all you could eat were lima beans and cauliflower: a hell befitting of no one. Sometimes though, “yourself” makes terrible choices and says or does things no person should say or do to another living person. Let’s run through a few situations, each more problematic than the last, and how to best handle them. Jumping the Rebel Situation: In an attempt to seem cooler than Fonzie you’ve swung your backpack off your shoulder, single strapping of course, but instead of it falling harmlessly to the ground, your 15 lb. sack of unopened books smashes into the head of the quiet, mousey girl next to you. Having assaulted an innocent girl, you’re now the biggest ass at West Virginia. How to recover: Stay calm and no matter what, do not shout out, “Bitch owed me money!” She’s not a prostitute, and you’re surely no pimp. There’s really no great way to handle this. Your best bet is to escort her out of class, offer to buy her some coffee and blame the assault on the nerve damage in your back that you received from rescuing all those orphans from a burning frat house. To really sell it you’ll need to violently twitch from time to time. WVU Political Head Situation: It’s your first day of class and you’re super-stoked to be there. That is, until you notice the Obama sticker on your professor’s MacBook Air. This launches you into a political fury rivaled only by your Bud Platinum fueled rant about why Hitler wasn’t such a bad guy. Having exhausted your mental library of knowledge, mostly borrowed from Fox News and Yahoo! Answers, you proudly sit
down. The jackass grin across your face soon fades though, realizing you just spewed ten minutes of bigoted hate-speech. How to Recover: Holy hell, you’ve done it now. This might could be written off as a moment of passion if you were in a majors-only poli-sci class, but this is algebra. Admitting that your political bullheadedness is a product of the keg and eggs you enjoyed for breakfast is a valid, yet inappropriate, excuse. You’re going to have to just bite the bullet and play it off as a terrible practical joke. A terrible sense of humor can be forgiven, pitied even, but the whole racial intolerance thing is still a fresh wound that you just poured a warm Natty on. Rollin’ on a Freshman Situation: Congratulations, you’ve just railed three doses of Molly before remembering that your modern American history class starts in five minutes. What would you professor think if you missed? Having sprinted from the Arnold to Woodburn, you’re a sweaty mess who’s rolling his face off. As the entire class stares at your black hole eyes you’re probably thinking, “This fleece jacket feels amazing!” How to Recover: First things first, stop rubbing your face on that jacket while purring like a damned cat; the poor foreign student wearing it is scared and confused. The gallon of orange juice you’ve been chugging isn’t really helping your case either. To avoid a cavity search from the overzealous UPD, you’ll want to excuse yourself from class, muttering something about a glandular disorder to your professor as you scurry past. If all else fails, remember: religion, politics, and your violent opposition to gay marriage are all terrible, terrible ice breakers. Instead, go with something like how much total trash it was that you got carded, or how you were being profiled when you got that “F” in “Academic Skills for College 101.”
5.) You’ll get your tests grades back next class: Hearing that is like hearing Ted Mosby say he’s giving up on dating. Not gonna happen. Professors are more scatter-brained than the students. It’s a surprise they even remembered we took a test. 4.) You can email me if you have any questions: Thank you. It’s very kind of you that you will answer questions about the homework… three weeks after it was due. 3.) I’ve put a practice exam online that will be helpful for the exam: Student taking practice exam: “Wow this is pretty easy! I totally have this.” Student taking the real exam: “Holy fuck! This was nothing like that practice exam! I don’t even know what a string theory is!” 2.) The exam will only cover stuff we talked about in class: Okay cool. That means we just have to look over our notes a few times and…OH MY GOD! This is English class;, why do we have to do math?! This is not something we went over in class! 1.) I’m a horrible artist: Oh, sorry. We thought this was art class. You’re telling us that drawing ISN’T your expertise? That atom you just drew… this is all your fault, everything! Global warming, unrest in the Middle East, Twilight. This is all your fault, atom!
Allyson Parrish wrote this
[PartyPics]
From the Streets Got a question you want us to ask? FTS@theblacksheeponline.com
What's the stupidest thing you have ever done in a bar? “I broke three glasses the other night, not even drunk, just being my clumsy self. Well, alcohol might have played a little part in it.” - Erik R.
“In Sports Page I went running after one of my friends and slipped and fell so hard. I literally got about 4 feet off the ground, and bounced right back up like a champ!” - Anjelica T.
“I went into a dueling piano bar in Texas where they were playing “Country Roads.” I walked up on stage and had my round black glasses on that had a penis as a nose, and shoved my tits in the piano player’s face and started singing! ” - Stevie C.
send your party pics to pics@theblacksheeponline.com
(View and Send Pics from our iPhone & Android App! Search black sheep mobile)
page 7
the black sheep mobile | for iphone & android
the blackout and the beautiful A morgantown Soap Saga: Part 1 tbs staff wrote this 1:30 a.m. – A strange time to be walking through Clark Hall. An even stranger time to be meeting with a professor. Jerry stepped softly as he made his way through the hall, so as to leave the empty building undisturbed from its slumber. He came to a stop in front of room 169. He had already double-checked, but still decided to pull up the email on his phone one last time. He still remembered showing up to room 243 last week, when his chemistry discussion was actually in 234. An easy mistake for a dyslexic kid to make, especially after spending the previous night at Slevin. Twenty-five cent drinks have always had a tendency to cause both memorable nights and memory loss. He held his phone up, looking at the email and the numbers on the door side by side. Finally convinced that he was at the right place, Jerry slowly pulled the door ajar and leaned his head in, leaving his feet in the hall until his eyes had the chance to confirm that she was there. He gave two light knocks on the door, “Mrs. J?” “Jerry, come on in. Let’s talk,” replied the 40-something brunette sitting at the front of the room. With a gentle smile, she lightly twirled a lock of hair with her long and slender index finger and watched as he came through the doorway. She pulled out her strawberry lip balm and applied it generously. He nervously pulled a chair up to her desk and sat, unsure if he should speak first. After a long awkward moment, he exhaled in relief as she broke the silence. “Hi Jerry, I’m sorry to drag you out here so late. I just wanted to make sure we took care of this problem right away.” He fidgeted and said, “Um yeah, it’s ok. I was still awake when you emailed me. What exactly is the problem?” “Well it turns out that there’s a problem with your grade from last fall. As you know, I think attendance is a very important part of any political science class. It pleases me when students show up and get actively involved in the course content. The discussions we have in here are really the meat and potatoes of the curriculum I’m teaching. That’s why 35% of the grade is dedicated to in-class iClicker points. I was very clear about this at the beginning of the semester, and it says the same thing on the syllabus.” Jerry furrowed his brow and listened closely. She sighed and continued, “Frankly, I’m disappointed that you blew it off. Your papers really showed a good understanding of the material, but since you never showed up to any of my lectures, right now I’m afraid I can’t give you a passing grade.” “What?” asked a befuddled Jerry. “I came to every class we had. Well, there was one day I missed, but I’ve been here in class almost every time. I answered all the iClicker questions, I swear!” She shook her head, “Actually, you didn’t.” She turned her laptop around so Jerry could see the screen. It was open to the grade layout of one Jerry Norman. He had an impressive A- average on exams and term papers, but with a 0% on participation, Mr. Norman had a less than impressive F in the class. “You see, Jerry, every semester I have students who think they can skip lectures and then lie to me.” She slammed the laptop shut, startling Jerry and sending an echo down the hall. “I’ve heard every excuse. I bet you’re gonna say your iClicker was set to the wrong frequency or that there was an error with the registering software. I’m not having it.”
Flustered, Jerry scrambled to respond, “But I really came to class! You gotta believe me! I can’t get an F!” “Relax. You’re not getting an F.” “But, you just said…” “I said right now I can’t give you a passing grade and that I called you here so we could take care of this problem.” She stood and walked slowly towards the door. The way she walked reminded him of his girlfriend. Her movements were smooth and sultry. “I can give you the iClicker points if you’re able to make up for your missed participation.” With her back to Jerry, she caressed the doorknob. “Class participation pleases me, and you failed to participate. Now you’re going to have to please me in some other way.” She locked the door and turned to face Jerry. She walked towards him, taking off her glasses and placing them on the nearest desk. Her long eyelashes fluttered. She drew close to his chair and slowly ran her fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna help me out tonight, and then your problem will be gone with one click of the mouse.” Jerry felt his face getting warm and knew he was turning bright red. Before speaking, he swallowed hard and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, “Mrs. J, I ... I umm, I think you’re great and all, but if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, I can’t. I have a girlfriend. If she found out, she’d tell her mom, and I’d be dead. Her mom’s insane. She hasn’t even let me meet her.” Mrs. J ignored his concerns and put a hand on his thigh. “You have a girlfriend, and I have a husband. But don’t worry, Mr. J is in Boston. I’ve tried to make up for his absence on my own, but it’s not the same. I even tried using one of those iClickers. I bet your little girlfriend wouldn’t like it if you couldn’t graduate because you failed my class. So think of this as a good thing. You’re doing this for her.” She undid the top button of her blouse. Jerry looked on with wide eyes and a racing heart. His hands trembled. He took a deep breath and thought to himself, “I’m doing this for her.” It was this night that the hallways of Clark Hall echoed the rhythmic sounds of ecstasy from room 169. Mrs. J wasn’t concerned with disturbing the slumbering building. It was this night that iClicker points
were restored, giving Jerry Norman a passing grade for Mrs. J’s class. ----It was also this night that Jerry Norman returned to his apartment and called his girlfriend. He knew he couldn’t tell her about his latenight academic adventure. “Hey Allie.” “Hi Jerry, how was your day?” He anxiously chewed on his fingernails and responded, “It was fine. Yours?” As she told him all about her day, he opened his laptop and went on Facebook to look at pictures of Allie Jennings. He gradually went through hundreds of Allie’s photos, trying to block out the memory of his meeting at Clark Hall. She talked about working on her group project, about getting a new purse, and mostly about her crazy mother. From what little he knew about Allie’s mom, the woman belongs in a mental institution. As they continued to talk, Jerry went further and further into pictures that were taken years ago. Every once in awhile, he saw a familiar looking, thin woman in the photos. He was beginning to grow tired when his ears perked up at something she said. “Wait wait, can you say that again?” “I said I had to go home to watch my little brother because my mom was busy working, and my dad is out of town. He’s trying to make a sale to some client in Boston.” Jerry froze. He flipped back through Allie’s pictures to find the familiar looking woman. He came to a picture with her in it and clicked on her name. It brought him to the Facebook page of Jessica Jennings, a 40-something brunette professor of Political Science at West Virginia University. Mutual friends? Just one: Allie Jennings. He dropped the phone and ran to the bathroom to puke. As he threw up his dinner, the only flavor he tasted was strawberry. Look for the continuation of this drama in next week’s paper!
BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS WANT MORE Download our Mobile App! DOWNLOAD FOR iPHONE DOWNLOAD FOR ANDROID
The Grid SPECIAL NIGHT
Watch UFC 157 on Saturday and Enter to Win Tickets to UFC 159 and Other Great Prizes from Bud Light!
Friday: $5 Happy Hour Buffet (5 - 8pm) $2 Domestic Drafts $3 Mixed Drinks $6 Domestic Pitchers Team Trivia @ 8pm
Saturday: 52 Pickup, Live on Stage! Bubba Sparxxx in the VIP Room! 2-4-1 Drinks
Everyday Specials! $2 Cans, $2 Shot Special $2.50 Bud Light Bottles $3 Rail Drinks $5 Glass of House Wine
THUR. 2/21
10-12: Jack, Captain, Smirnoff, Bacardi and Miller Lite 12-cl: $2 Jack, Captain, Smirnoff, Bacardi and Miller Lite
“Live Music Thursdays” $2 Bud Light Mug Night $3 Quesadillas Buy One Get One Shots
Beer & Champagne Special 9pm - 11pm $2 Bottles & Mixed Drinks, $3 Bombs After 11
$1 Vodka Drinks $1 Drafts
FRI. 2/22
Happy Hour! 5-8: Food Buffet and 2-4-1 Drinks 8-11: $2 Bottles and $3 Drinks
$5 Happy Hour Buffet (5 - 8pm) $2 Domestic Drafts $3 Mixed Drinks $6 Domestic Pitchers Team Trivia @ 8pm
52 Pickup, Live on Stage! $0.25 Cent Pints $2 Mixed Drinks
Ladies Night! $5 Select Martinis $1 Rail for Ladies after 9pm
SAT. 2/23
7-10: Team Trivia $5 pizzas and pitchers Play to win great prizes! Watch all you UFC PPV here!
“Ladies Night” Ladies: $1 Mixed Drinks (9 - Close) $2 Domestic Drafts $3 Shots, $3 Bombs
52 Pickup, Live on Stage! Bubba Sparxxx in the VIP Room! 2-4-1 Drinks
Happy Hour 4-8pm $3 Jameson $5 Select Martinis
SUN. 2/24
Sunday Funday! $2 Bottles, $3 Drinks, $3 Any Shot, $4 Redbull Bombs all day! Karaoke 9-1
$5 Family Style Sunday Buffet $2 Domestic Drafts $6 Domestic Pitchers $3.50 Jack, Jameson, Captain, Honey, & Fireball
2-4-1 Everything!
Country Night $2 24oz PBR $3 Jim Beam
MON. 2/25
Bucket Night 5 for $10 Domestic Buckets and .35 Wings
25¢ Boneless Wings 35¢ Wings $1.50 Domestic Drafts
Closed
Everyday $2 Cans, $2 Shot Special $2.50 Bud Light Bottles $3 Rail Drinks $5 Glass of House Wine
TUES. 2/26
Bud Light Fight Night! Watch the Ultimate Fighter and Enter to Win Tix to UFC 159 $2 Bud/Bud Light Bottles, $5 Bud/ Bud Light Pitchers and $3 Knockout Punch
“Tequila Tuesdays” $1 Tacos, $2 Coronas $2 Margaritas $6 Margarita Pitchers $2 Tequila Shots (All Night)
Closed
Everyday $2 Cans, $2 Shot Special $2.50 Bud Light Bottles $3 Rail Drinks $5 Glass of House Wine
2-4-1 All Night $5 Nacho Grande’s
$5 Italian Style Buffet $2.50 Jager Bombs (All Night) $6 Domestic Pitchers
9pm - 11pm: Jack, Jim, Captain, and Absolut Specials $5 Cover
Everyday $2 Cans, $2 Shot Special $2.50 Bud Light Bottles $3 Rail Drinks $5 Glass of House Wine
WED. 2/27
page 9
the black sheep mobile | for iphone & android
The Penis Apologies:
A Companion Piece to the Vagina Monologues tbs staff wrote this
The penis—the pole, the cock, the Magic Johnson—by any other name would spray as sweet. If there’s one thing this joystick has going for itself, it’s respecting women since the dawn of penis-kind. Now, since The Black Sheep believes in the goodness that is the penis, and has never been above a good dick quip, we’ve called in some infamous duders well known for crimes against cooter-kind to issue a formal penis apology and, hopefully, redeem themselves. Charlie Sheen: actor, drug lord, self-proclaimed juggalo: I, Carlos Irwin Estévez, better known as Charlie Sheen i.e. the world’s greatest actor, would like to tell all you ladies about the little penis that could. Since the other testicle dropped, I’ve had a four-inch penis, and, alas, most women just don’t like it that wide. I am the face of adversity and a debilitating disease known as chode-itis. I’ve turned to massive drug binges, hashtags, and running with a terrifying gang known as the Insane Clown Posse to cope with my condition. But, I can assure you, ladies, I’m on the road to recovery. I’m respecting women daily and I’m even dating again, although, currently it’s mostly sets of adult film actresses in the first step to becoming more relatable and working on my sensitivity towards real, wholesome women. So from me to you—less misogyny, more mammary. Chris Brown: R&B artist, sexually confused man, guilty of more hits that don’t top the charts than do: Now, ladies, I know what you’re thinking: I just a little rude boy who like to beat up my girlfriend, Rihanna. Let me set the record straight—one time she may have fell into my clenched fist that I was swinging, but, as I’ve stated in several interviews I, Christopher Maurice Brown, am not a violent person. More importantly, I am not a sexist. If I were someone who enjoyed the occasional high of assault and battery, we can at least say it is equal opportunity. Frank Ocean had it comin’ big time. I am just a gentle, misunderstood phenom,
and I will defend the Brown name, as well as the tattoo on my neck. Damn, son, I ain’t got nothin’ ta be sorry fo. I’m pretty much Jesus. Mel Gibson: actor/director, Aussie, lover of Chris Brown as well as Jesus: I, Mel Colm-Cille Gerard Gibson, have realized the injustices I have committed against said sacred snatch after my tedious bouts of disappointing and mildly-consensual sex with Mrs. Mel. Recently, the result has always been the same, I’d toss a softy and she’d let out some vaginal farts from that cavernous pleasure hole that had once bore me six little Mels, plus, two little women who will someday make great mothers to a flock of even littler Mels. If it weren’t for my pulling a Braveheart and prima nocta-ing up the old wife-y all those years ago, I might have been a free man sooner. I wasn’t going to be the one to properly ask for the divorce, because, dammit, I’m a Catholic and proud! However, that’s not to say I can’t dabble in domestic abuse and anti-Semitism until that heathen bitch calls this marriage quits and leaves me a more broken man than my sad, alcoholic, and intolerant ass had been before. I send you this message as a desperate plea for female nurturing to help me get off the sauce and, instead, to get off in you. No fatties, whites only, and between the ages of 18 and 20 is preferred. Dicks are patient, dicks are kind. It does envy, it does boast, it is proud. So a penis there, a penis here, a penis everyday in the ear. Ladies, next time you’re embracing your inner goddess while sticking it to the Sheen and flickin’ the bean, remember men are really just chicks with dicks. With the intensity of a burning UTI that just won’t quit, our hope here at TBS is that the penis apologies may serve to bring hoes and bros together after a few thousand years of peckercentricism.
rock top now open for the spring! Every Day Specials: $2 CANS • $2 SHOT SPECIAL $2.50 BUD LIGHT BOTTLES • $3 RAIL DRINKS $5 GLASS OF HOUSE WINE Check Out Our Brand New Menu
ROCKTOPNIGHTS.COM | 341 CHESNUT ST. | MORGANTOWN, WV
page 10
theblacksheeponline.com
The Pros of Blood Diamonds
TBS staff wrote this
So you think she’s the one, huh? The one that’s going to love you forever, despite your lack of ambition, money, and the several blonde “mistakes” you’ve made after four years at WVU? The one who is going to cherish every Saturday night spent watching Barter Kings together and fighting over who had to do the dishes? The one who will always encourage you do the few things you really do love, even if those things are fetish porn, gravy, and artisan handjobs? You’re probably wrong. But here at The Black Sheep, we aren’t interested in talking you out of the second biggest mistake of your life. We’re here to help you pick out a ring like we’re your own personal slightly-more-flamboyant-and-even-more-delightfullysassy Queer Eye for the Straight Guy posse. After that, we’ll talk you out of the actual biggest mistake of your life— your decision to care about human rights. That’s right, politically-correct-but-still-apathetic one. Diamond engagement rings are expensive, and us girls are still too shallow to realize that spending two months’ salary on a piece of jewelry is about as smart of a life choice as spending two months’ salary on a robot hooker (actually, you would get more practical use out of a robo-whore). But you have to get her a diamond, otherwise you’re “not really engaged, sweetie,” so why not a blood diamond? Popularized by Leonardo DiCaprio in 2006, blood diamonds are Africa’s answer to ethnic cleansing in Bosnia, the Holocaust, and every movie starring Kristen Stewart (we get to choose our problems in the first world—otherwise we wouldn’t be the first world, idiot). Yes, these are diamonds specifically mined in dangerous war zones, often by slave labor, which finance warlords who often discourage
democratic voting by chopping off the hands of innocent civilians. Are we having fun yet? First of all, they’re much cheaper than any diamond not subsidized with the tears of families that have been torn apart by the violent and greedy actions of a few random guys they’ve never met. That’s great news for you, since your job barely pays for the rent, let alone a fancy ring that only tells other guys that your girl is currently only allowed to think about blowing them. It’s not like you’re ever going to be able to talk her into something less Kardashian, because then everyone will think she’s selling the milk for a deeply reduced price. They might even think she’ll put out after just one “Two for $20” deal at Applebee’s. Secondly, are war zones really that bad? Our research tells us that, on average, they’re on the same level as Lord Licorice’s castle in the beloved and intellectually challenging board game Candyland. That is to say, they’re intimidating and may scare small children, but are also secretly delicious. Think about it: if war zones are really that bad, why are there so many of them, and why are children drawn to them? It must be because they are actually a twisted and tasty strawberry-flavored treat. Next, who are you to decide if a warlord is right or wrong? They have their reasons for what they’re doing. Isn’t it just a little presumptuous of you to assume that you know what’s best for a place that you’ve never been and probably never will go? Right. It’s only fair that you attempt to be as unbiased as possible by spending your money in such a way that you have no idea who or what it is funding. You never can, and never will hold warlords down. After all, we all love
Braveheart. Would you want to quash the next William Wallace by declining him funding because you think he’s corrupt? Didn’t think so. Nothing says, “I love you, but I’m not turning off the game for you” like a blood diamond. Here at The Black Sheep, we’ve heard you can get certified blood diamonds these days, and they’re often deeply discounted. By buying a certified blood diamond, you’ll ensure that at least four children, two adults, and seven to eight elephants lost various body parts in the mining process. Come on, buddy. Isn’t your girl worth it? She definitely isn’t worth the $4,000 and lifetime of missing Monday Night Football that a regular engagement ring costs.
If you don’t start following us...
YOU WON’T KNOW WHAT’S SO DAMN FUNNY. @BlackSheepWVU @UKBLACKSHEEP
Scan to go right to the page!
page 11
the black sheep mobile | for iphone & android
bartender of the week Megan R. boston beanery Hometown: Hamilton, New Jersey Childhood nickname: “Meggy,” my mom calls me that Best thing about working at the Boston Beanery: The people, staff and regulars that come in Most popular drink you sell here: Orange Crush If Hollywood made a movie about you, who would you like to see play the lead role as you: Reese Witherspoon
Have you ever had to cut off a customer here: Yes, he was not happy Do you like serving guys or girls better: Probably guys If you had to choose to never wash your bed sheets again or never wash your bath towel ever again, which would you rather not wash: Probably my bath towel, because you’re usually clean when you use it Name something you would do alone but not in front of others: Sing, I’m a really bad singer.
Craziest thing you have ever seen happen at the Boston Beanery: I have seen multiple people fall off bar stools, a few fights, nothing too crazy though
Have you ever been dared to do something you totally regret: If I was dared to do something I didn’t want to do, I was probably wasted and don’t remember it.
Most famous person you have ever served working at the Boston Beanery: Bob Huggins
Have you ever been drunk at work: Yes! Bad idea! Instead of going forward with my tray, I was going backwards, but I only dropped half a plate of queso chips.
the drinking game:
recipe for disaster:
Congratulations – it’s award season once again! The red carpets, the celebrities, the performances… the list of nonsense winds on and on. One of the most anticipated award shows of the season is of course the Oscars; however, one cannot forget the other events that are to follow. Such shows include The Country Music Awards, the MTV Movie Awards, the TV Land Awards, the Tonys, the Bronys, and our favorite, the AVNs.
As if pancakes weren’t already good enough, beer makes them even better. Pancakes and beer go together like Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston; it just makes sense. Start your day off in the best way with some beercakes for that essential morning pregame.
award season
What You’ll Need: Hard booze, cheap beer, and a bloated ego. Number of Players: As many as can fit around your crappy living room. Level of Intoxication: Somewhere between Lindsay Lohan and pre-rehab Mickey Rourke How to Play: - Decide beforehand on the nominees whom you think will win or whom you want to win. - Take a drink anytime someone is asked who they are wearing. - Take a shot anytime a celebrity shows up without their partner. - Anytime someone you pick wins, choose one person to take a shot. - If your nominee loses, chug for five seconds. - Take a shot every time a winner thanks god. - Waterfall for the first 30 seconds of each tribute. - Take a shot anytime a winner is cut off by music. The Game Ends When: People have an existential meltdown as to the concept of award shows and worshipping celebrities… or people just stop paying attention because all the relevant awards have been handed out.
download our app for all of our drinking games!
beercakes
What You’ll Need: 1 can of your favorite beer, 1 teaspoon of salt, 2 cups of all-purpose flour, 2 beaten eggs, 1/2 cup of white sugar, 1/4 cup melted butter, 1 teaspoon of baking powder, and cooking spray. Cook Time: 15 minutes. Fatty Factor: Depends on if you’re using light beer or not. Let’s Get Baked: - In a large bowl stir together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt. - Add the eggs, beer and melted butter to the mix. Stir until mixture is blended; a few lumps is fine. - Heat a skillet coated with cooking spray over medium heat. Spoon the batter out over the skillet using either a 1/3 or 1/4 cup measuring cup. - When the beercakes start to bubble, flip them over until the other side is browned. - Pour your favorite syrup over the beercakes and eat ‘em while they’re hot! They taste a lot better going down than they do coming up, so eat wisely.
Hungry for More? theblacksheeponline.com
where your
mouth is Each week, under our Bartender of the Week feature, we publish a small article, “Recipe for Disaster.” In it, we outline a means of preparing drunk food that caters to your average student. Well, we decided just making up recipes was bullshit—real chefs taste their food! At least, that’s what Tom Colicchio tells us.
poptartilla Ingredients: Two tortillas, two blueberry Pop-Tarts, extra-crunchy peanut butter, strawberry jam Preparation Time: 6 minutes Flavor: 3.5 Texture: 4.9 Ease of Eating: 3 Ease of Preparation: 4 Ease of Clean-Up: 2.5
So here we have six recipes, both normal and bizarre, that have ran in that wacky feature. We had all of our full-time staffers try them, rating each six items in five categories scaled 1-5, 1 being the worst, 5 the best. Some were amazing, some ah-mah-zing, others, well, we’d tell you, but there’s still some puke left in the darkest recesses of our stomach.
Notes: We found love. -The Poptartilla turned out much better than any of the judges expected. Some questioned how the tortilla would mix with the processed Pop-Tart, others, whether the consistency would be too weird after a couple of bites. These fears were unfounded. The tortilla posed no threat, and the texture was spot on. - As the above pictures suggest, the Poptartilla is a visually stunning culinary masterpiece, sure to impress any wastoid foolish enough to accompany a The Black Sheep reader home to “watch Anchorman.” Beyond that, the tortilla offers easy eating opportunities. Not only does it look nice, it’s easy to shove down your throat, easier than his tobacco-stained tongue, at least. - However delicious the Poptartilla may be, it sure does poach one’s throat. A huge gravity bong rip always gives the late-night muncher a mean case of cottonmouth, and the peanut butter all but assures a choking hazard as it tries to slide down that dehydrated highway. - Sloppy drunks should be wary of preparing the Poptartilla. For maximum flavor, the tortilla should be warmed in a skillet, and the Pop-Tarts toasted in the...the toaster. Both of these present serious burning risks to those lacking full-body control.
ghetto fab chow mein Ingredients: Chicken-flavored ramen, two hot dogs, green onions, a red bell pepper, lettuce, tomato • Preparation Time: 13 minutes • Flavor: 2.1 • Texture: 2.25 • Ease of Eating: 4.5 • Ease of Preparation: 1 • Ease of Clean-Up: 1 Notes: - Do you like ramen? Of course you do, you’re a college student, and it’s the best meal twenty cents can buy. Well, how about you throw out the MSG flavor explosion, add some of your precious veggies, a hot dog and spend twice as long coo…HEY! GET BACK HERE AND FINISH READING THIS HUMOROUS QUIP! - But really, the Ghetto Fab Chow Mein is almost certainly more trouble than it’s worth. An amateur chef has a hard enough time boiling water, sautéing veggies, and cooking hot dogs at the same time. Force
them to do this intoxicated, and all of a sudden, spending the last six dollars on a Jimmy John’s sub is a much better proposition. - The best use of Ghetto Fab Chow Mein is for wooing that lusty little beast you randomly made out with on the walk home. Visually, the noodles mixed with juicy red meat and a variety of veggies promises the promiscuous person a meal of a lifetime. Since everything tastes better drunk, (s)he’ll be fooled by the visuals. Your resulting visuals won’t be so bad.
inferno walking taco Ingredients: One can of chili, three small bags of Fritos, sour cream, lettuce, tomato, green onions, and mozzarella cheese Preparation Time: 4 minutes Flavor: 4.1 Texture: 4 Ease of Eating: 3.6 Ease of Preparation: 5 Ease of Clean-Up: 5
Notes: WTF, right? - Eating doesn’t get much easier than opening a bag that has food in it, putting more food in said bag, then eating food out of the bag. Ever see a commercial that claims “X” can be done if the user “just adds water”? Well, the Inferno Walking Tacos are the “just add water” of delicious food, minus water, plus fat and meat. - Once everything’s in the bag, you’re set. Think about it; if a drunk suddenly needs to up and run from the fuzz, no need to put anything in a bag, it’s already in a bag! And a bag in a bag?! College kids can’t afford that many bags. Need to throw it away? Just put the bag in a garbage bag. “But I thought you said I shouldn’t be putting bags in bags?” you say? Exception proves the rule, son. - The only real knock to the Inferno Walking Tacos is, the eater has to get down there and really find those Fritos. While the other ingredients taste good, the texture, sans-chip, is unpleasant. - If there was a diarrhea factor, this would get a 5.
Fluffernutter Cookies Ingredients: One cup extra-crunchy peanut butter, one cup marshmallow fluff, one egg • Preparation Time: 28 minutes • Flavor: 4.4 • Texture: 2.7 • Ease of Eating: 2.1 • Ease of Preparation: 2.5 • Ease of Clean-Up: 1
Sticky-icky-icky.
Notes: - Our Recipe for Disaster called for baking these cookies for fifteen minutes. For this to work, the cookies need to be portioned out to Oreo-sized cookies, or they will not bake all the way through in this period of time. -If you’re stupid enough to make four large cookies (see left), be prepared to have a… wait for it…sticky situation on your hands! Marshmallow fluff is sticky, so is peanut but-
ter. So is undercooked sugar. - We’re still not quite sure why egg is to be used in this. Does one really need a binding agent if there’s no flour and two sticky ingredients involved? (Note: The answer is no.) -The above failures aside, the cookie actually tasted pretty good, as peanut buttery and marshmallowy things are wont to do. One taster noted chocolate chips would be a wonderful addition. Sure. Why not?
bbq nachos Ingredients: Tortilla chips, cheddar cheese, colby-jack cheese, green onions, Sweet Baby Ray’s barbecue sauce Preparation Time: 3 minutes Flavor: 2.4 Texture: 2.6 Ease of Eating: 3.9 Ease of Preparation: 5 Ease of Clean-Up: 3.5
Notes: -The biggest compliment one can pay to BBQ Nachos is that they’re easy to make. Chips— hobos can afford chips—plus a few condiments, and one has a snack that is, well, not good, but edible. - Drunken peoples should avoid using dangerous appliances; this is fact. Sure, this rules out obvious enemies like the food processor and the Rotato, but there’s the always-dangerous oven. What if one falls asleep using it, causing a fire? Or burns their hand badly, meaning no masturbation for weeks? Well, the microwave is safe, but not for the food. We popped our BBQ Nachos in there for two minutes—about a minute and a half too long. The chips were hard and the cheese way overdone.
the lent buster Ingredients: Two blueberry Pop-Tarts, one pint chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, one Snickers bar, a handful of hot dog-flavored potato chips, a handful of original potato chips, chocolate syrup, two shortbread cookies, one cupcake, a handful of Cheerios, one can of Coke Zero, a handful of pretzels, ice, a splash of vodka. • Preparation Time: 7 minutes • Flavor: 1 • Texture: 0.5 • Ease of Eating: 3.3 • Ease of Preparation: 4 • Ease of Clean-Up: 2 Notes: - All those ingredients went in a blender for about ten seconds. The end result was a cold slurry of salty-sweet slop that looked and smelled like throw-up. - There’s an old saying about camels: A camel is a horse designed by engineers; the idea being, a camel is a bunch of good ideas poorly applied. If this analogy holds true, the Lent Buster is liquid diabetes created by malevolent assholes with early-onset Type 2 diabe-
tes. Does a small item of food have more than 100% the daily suggested sodium or sugar intake? Throw that shit in there, son. - Though it was mostly a thick, grainy paste—ostensibly easy to consume—the Lent Buster scores low marks for being so visually and olfactorily disgusting. It was like drinking an ugly hobo milkshake. - When drinking the Lent Buster, one could chew on wet potato chip. It was not pleasant.
Hard cheese, not pleased.
- We re-cooked a smaller batch for 45 seconds, and this batch of BBQ nachos were good, which is the apex of this snack’s potential. Do you like salty things? Sweet things? Cheesy things? Congratulations, so does everyone else! The line ends around the forever.
the seek and find
Can you find all the items on this messy-ass desk?
Send us where everything is to classtime@theblacksheeponline.com If you're right, you'll win something cool, like a Justin Bieber sex doll!
the wordsearch: comedians Dan Aykroyd
Bill Murray
Lewis Black
BJ Novak
Dave Chappelle
Conan O’Brien
Andy Dick
Amy Poehler
Bill Engvall
Randy Quaid
Jimmy Fallon
Don Rickles
Tom Green
Sarah Silverman
Chelsea Handler
Daniel Tosh
Gabriel Iglesias
Tracey Ullman
Penn Jillette
Dick Van Dyke
Jimmy Kimmel
Kristen Wiig
Jon Lajoie
Weird Al Yankovic
Meet The Staff campus manager Maddi Blankenship
campus director Brendan Bonham
Advertising Managers Alison Burns, Elizabeth Sokolosky Emily Zapach
owner Atish Doshi
Writers Allyson Parrish Tiffany Benson
Founders Jacob Lash, Alison Burns, Elizabeth Sokolosky
photographer Arthur Hartman distribution manager Danielle Dorris social media manager Michael Mozer promotions manager Morgan Farr
Questions? info@theblacksheeponline.com Advertising? ads@theblacksheeponline.com Hate Us? lame@theblacksheeponline.com
Find Us At... 123 Pleasant Street 4th & Goal Anthony’s Pizza Ashbrooke Liquor Outlet Bent Willeys Big Times Black Bear Blue Moose Cafe Book Exchange BookHolders Brick Yard Pub Café Mojo Campus Canteen Casa D’Amici
Chic-N-Bones Chico’s Fat Chill Berry Club Slevin Coaches Cold Stone Creamery Crockett’s Damien Lee’s Hot Dogs D.P. Dough Don Patron Fat Daddy’s Five Guys Gibbies Glasshouse Grille
Golden Finch Great Wall High Street Tatto Jay’s Daily Grind Jimmy Johns Joe Mama’s Karma Keglers Ky’s Lounge Lavender Cafe Ledo’s Lira Lounge Los Mariachi’s Lux
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.
Mario’s Fishbowl McClafferty’s Mediterranean Market Morgantown Brewing Company Munchies Mutt’s Naticake’s Ogawa Oliverio’s Market Place Panera Bread Pathfinder PeppeBroni’s Pizza Pita Pit
Puglioni’s Rocktop Rusted Musket Sandwich U Shooters Side Pocket South Beach Sun Starbucks Subway Sunshack Sweet Frog Tailpipes Tazikis The Back Door
The Cellar The Cupcakerie The Shop The Sports Page Thinkin’ Ink Town Hill Tudor’s Biscuit World Tutto Gelato Vintage Room Volcano Wild Mountain Bakery Wing’s Ole Greek Houses!!! Apartments!!!
Owned & Operated By: Black Card Media, LLC 2130 W. Potomac Ave. Suite 1, Chicago, IL 60622 Corporate: 217.390-1747 Advertising: 608.712.0900
six degrees
of separation think you know how tina fey and michelle pfeiffer are connected? email us at classtime@theblacksheeponlne.com and if you’re right, you’ll win a prize! how cool is that?
1 2
3
4 5
Biggest Happy Hour in Town! WINGS, BONELESS WINGS, MEATBALLS, CORN DOGS, BAKED ZITI, CHICKEN HOAGIES AND SO MUCH MORE...
ALL FOR $5! Plus!
$2 DOMESTIC DRAFTS, $3 RAIL, $6 DOMESTIC PITCHERS
444B CHESTNUT STREET • MORGANTOWN, WV • FATDADDYSWV.COM
m o c . e n i l n O p e e h S k c a l B e GAMES G Th IN K IN R PECIALS | D | BAR S ARTICLES