The Trial Issue - The Hedge Trimmer Humor Magazine by thehedgetrimmer

Dec. 2017 VOL. 0, ISSUE 1

Fig 2.

Humor Magazine at UGA

“Trimming Serious Fat Off Funny Bones Since Right Now”

“The Trial Issue”

Editorial Board UNDERGRADUATE BOARD

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF

Ben Goren ‘19 Maggie Dryden ‘19

THE GRADUATE BOARD Dustin Hoffman

OVERBOARD Man

ALL OTHER POSITIONS You!

Come and Join Us! thehedgetrimmermag@gmail.com The Hedge Trimmer is a magazine produced by students of the University of Georgia. The University of Georgia is not responsible for its contents. Any resemblance to names, characters, or events, real or fictional, without satirical intent, is purely coincidental.

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Fig 2.

“ You Picked a Good One”

The Trial Issue

A Letter from the Editors

ell lookie here! Our first reader! If this magazine found itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s way into your hands - forcibly, or otherwise - let us start by saying thank you. Little do you know, you've just become an integral role in an institution the likes of which has never existed at The University of Georgia. And we really do mean "never existed." According to our research, there is no account of a student humor magazine ever existing at UGA - as far as Google's concerned, that is, and they're typically a very concerned company. At the very least, no such publication has existed during any of our undergraduate years. We think it's about time someone changed that. We are that someone, in case that wasn't clear. Allow us to introduce ourselves. We are The Hedge Trimmer, UGA's first humor magazine. We aim to provide short, witty, sharp, and overall humorous content to the UGA community. The Hedge Trimmer shall be student-run, student-sourced humor in a variety of media presented in a tangible, free magazine format to the student body of the University of Georgia. Despite what our name might suggest, we are not attempting to skewer or scathingly roast UGA

through bitter satire or arrogant jabs at "the man" - not solely, at least. First and foremost, we are a place for funny stories. We like jokes. We like silly. We like clever. We have no agenda (we don't even have a daily planner) other than making and providing funny content. The future of that content is where you come in. This first issue is no more than a trial run to gain interest in readership and membership alike. It serves as an example of our tone and our potential. If what you see here is to your liking - or you think you could do better, you little punk - we'd love to have you help us shape UGA's next big thing. We have high hopes, but we need your help. Support us as our readers, or join us as our writers, artists, designers, businessy-types, or providers of any other skills you'd like to offer. Email us at thehedgetrimmermag@ gmail.com to learn more and jump right in with us next semester. Thanks again, and enjoy the Trial Issue. Your card will not be charged after the trial ends, but you will be spammed by our newsletter. Sucker! Sincerely,

Ben Goren Maggie Dryden Editors-in-Chief

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THIS WEEK’S HEADLINES 7 ATE 9, “STILL AT LARGE,” SAYS KEY WITNESS 6

MORTALITY COGNIZANT COW GRAZES NEW AND TROUBLING QUESTIONS

DAWGS ON TOP, WOULD BE NICE TO BE ON BOTTOM FOR ONCE

“IT’S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD,” SAYS DAD COMFORTING SON, MINUTES AFTER LAUNCHING NUCLEAR MISSILE

POLICE FIND TIMMY AT HOME, NOT IN WELL AS REPORTED, DEDUCE LASSIE DESPERATE FOR ATTENTION PUTIN FEEDS KREMLIN STAFF AFTER MIDNIGHT

WATERLESS URINALS THINK THEY’RE BETTER THAN YOU

POLICE CHIEF STILL WORKING ON GETTING AUTOMATIC SINK TO COOPERATE WORLD LEADERS SHARE BABY PICS OF COUNTRIES’ NEWBORNS AT UN SUMMIT

The Trial Issue The Last Will and Testament of Abraham Baldwin To Whom It May Concern:

7 March 1st, 1807

I, Abraham Elvis Baldwin, fear the imminence of my death, now in my golden years. I did, after all, turn 52 last fall. I should have retired in my 30’s like my peers, maybe opened that molasses mill and handed out sugar cane to the children like I’ve always dreamed, instead of gone after a role in government: Presidency is a young man’s game. That’s why I became a senator, where I can do nothing and reign forever. With this letter, I aim to accomplish two tasks. One: to set to rest the speculation surrounding my failure to ever wed; I simply cannot give up the bachelor lifestyle. Plain and simple. And two: to confess a great mistake regarding my beloved University of Georgia. I must confess a typo in our initial charter. The UGA mascot was always intended to be the Georgia Bullfrogs, not the Bulldogs. I am sure this is alarming to our early adopters, graduates, and volunteer bulldog handlers. You see, I hadn’t noticed the fatal error until the charter had returned from the printer. I urged my assistant to stop its shipment, yet I was too late. The charter had already been mailed pony express to the capital, and my standard-mail pony was too slow to catch up. Immediately, I had tried in earnest to set the matter straight on campus. At school pride rallies I would yell, “lick ‘em good, frogs!” but people thought I was simply instructing my stamp licker, Albert Goodfrogs. Had they known Albert and I were on a first name basis, I’m certain they would not have made this mistake. By the time newly admitted freshman began referring to themselves as “dogs,” I was simply too embarrassed to say anything. And when people started wearing sweatshirts with “dawg” emblazoned across it, I became too busy correcting their spelling to even notice the word; I am an educator, after all. However, now I fear they misspell it only to spite me, those damn 19th centurials. Yet as I think about it now, how could anyone see my mascot attribution as anything other than a mistake? The Georgia Bulldog? Neither word elicits the connotation of the other. Bulldogs are native to the English, while Bullfrogs are in fact native to the south. You didn’t have to go to Yale to figure that one out. I did. I went to Yale to figure that one out. Some outspoken students have asked me, “Mr. Baldwin, our mascot must be in reference to your alma mater Yale, which also has a Bulldog mascot.” To which I reply, “Are you doing that thing where you raise your hand to ask a question but then really just state a fact in order to look smart in front of your peers?” and they reply, “Yes.” So I hand them a diploma right then and there for beating the educational system. I fear I am too late to make true what I’ve always intended, and out of fear of damaging my glorious reputation – I’ve touched George Washington’s wig, you know – I must take this truth to the grave, and only compose this letter as a writing exercise. My hand is cramping by this quill, but Dr. Franklin was right. I do feel better. Sincerely, Abraham Baldwin

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Family Group Message You’ve been added to the group message “Birthday Gifts for Dad” with Mom, Brandon, and Michelle. Michelle: Hey guys so Dad’s birthday is next week and I wanted to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Something he’d really like this year okay? Brandon: So another fart machine? Michelle: Brandon! Brandon: wut I got 2 for 1 last year Brandon: Dad loves a good deal Mom: Very funny you two! Mom sent the “volleyball” emoji. Mom sent the “crying laughing” emoji. Michelle: I’m getting him the complete DVD box set to The Godfather so no one else do that! Mom: Whoops! Finger slip! Where are my emoji? Me: @Michelle He already has the first two Brandon: He’s already got number 2 in his pants! Brandon: Hahahaha Michelle: Yes but this has the third Godfather and a 37 minute featurette on cannolis

The Trial Issue Me: The third Godfather sucks but whatever you say. Me: I’m getting him that new coffee table book of pictures of Clint Eastwood eating plums

Mom sent the “barber pole” emoji.

there on the shelf above his office desk. Cause I made it, he said. Well, I’m going to repurpose it for him. Brandon: I’m going to treat it Brandon: and sand it Brandon: and paint it Brandon: and put a big ol FART in it!

Mom sent the “person rowing boat” emoji.

Michelle: Dammit Brandon!

Mom sent the “rolling on the floor laughing” emoji.

Brandon: Hahahahhahaaha!

Mom: Good one Brandon! Brandon: thanks mom Mom: Haha! Mom sent the “red heart” emoji. Michelle: @Brandon Have something real planned now what are you getting Dad? Brandon: A fart. Michelle: Srsly! Brandon: Haha okay okay! Brandon: Alright well. I got one thing in mind Brandon: Remember that wooden box I made him in shop in 6th grade? It was in the garage when it got flooded, and the box got all moldy and old. I told him to just throw out the stupid thing but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even let anyone touch it. Its gross and falling apart but he kept it. Just sits

Mom sent the “bento box” emoji. Mom sent the “Azerbaijan flag” emoji. Mom added Dad to the conversation. Michelle: No! Dad: What’s this. Gifts for Dad? Michelle: @Mom !!!! Mom: Huh?? Dad: @Michelle the third Godfather is not good, Michelle. Me: Told you Brandon sent “Elmo lights fart on fire” GIF. --

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A Strongly-Worded Email from a Man that Accidentally Confused the Cincinnati Reds with the Ohio Branch of the Communist Party to Bob Castellini, Owner of the Cincinnati Reds To: thereds@cincinnati.com From: imadethisaddresstosendthisemail@mail.com Subject: How Dare You? Mr. Castellini, I am contacting you today because I am upset. Upset with you, specifically, let’s make that clear. But I am also upset more generally by the Red Party that you adhere to that doesn’t even take the time to appreciate what the values of this country have accomplished, and, what’s more, take direct and communist action against those values. Now direct action’s something I can’t stand, so don’t even get me started on communist action. I have made something of myself in this country. I work hard to promote the power of my labor that I voluntarily sell to my superiors for less than it’s worth, and I continue to work hard to support my family. And I’ve done all of this well within the scheme of a perfectly functioning economic system. Well, yes, there’s been some hiccups here and there, but just try and tell me that you’ve never hiccupped before. No one’s diaphragm is that damn perfect. And every government shutdown gets us one step closer to economic bliss, mind you. And here I am, just minding my own internet-browsing business, when all of a sudden, a notification pops up on my sidebar with that stupid noise, dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun, claiming that you, sir, and your Red organization, have drafted men, men right out of high school, to be a part of your “team”?

The Trial Issue

What is this, some sort of war? A war that needs a draft? Who are you fighting, the system? And also, your team? What is this, some sort of system? A system of teams competing against one another? That sir, to me, sir, is absolutely ridiculous. Within this system you’re apparently fighting, I’ve created things. I’ve explored the deepest nooks and crannies of my brain to predict the markets and innovate accordingly, so any argument you have about “my creative potential” as being unfulfilled is utter Marx-manure. And about production? Yeah, I’ve probably exploited some people in the process, but you know what they say? All’s fair in love and war, and you, Mr. Castellini, have already deemed this a war. I hope this email, at least, has made you think about what you are doing to the lives of these men you’re “drafting.” The innocent people of Cincinnati should not have to withstand the message of your Party. Your conscience should shudder at the words of your mouth. My next email is going straight to the inbox of the developers of the ESPN app due to your communist business showing up on my fantasy football feed. My team’s doing great, by the way. Not that you care. Wouldn’t peg you as much of a sports guy, anyway. Long Live Adam Smith and the Free Market, An Anonymous (and Proud) Supporter of Capital

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Pondering Upchuck By Edgar Allan Poe

I walk down the hill that is shaded by the trees that rustle with life. I see the perfect equilibrium of the ecosystem: the small and furry animals are contented by the leafy greens of their habitat, for food and for shelter; the sunlight energy is absorbed by the perfect molecules of the tree leaves, the green-tinted chloroplasts are tingling with excitement as they accept the waves. Yes, I see all this with my naked eye. I revel. My reveling is so starkly interrupted when I am overwhelmingly overcome by an existential question brought about by the rustling in the trees, a rustle of revel-interrupting proportions, for a question so deep, so troubling that I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t even entertain the idea of it for more than a few steps before I have to halt in my mammalian tracks.

Do squirrels puke? Oh, the horror, the horror! To even momentarily suppose that our furry compatriots experience the violent upchuck of their very sustenance!

The Trial Issue

But really… Do they? I mean, they only eat…what, nuts? Is there even such a thing as a “bad nut” bad enough to cause vomiting? What else do they even eat? I guess they could eat bugs or something. Maybe other plants. Maybe it’s the pesticides that would do it. I’m realizing how much I don’t freakin’ know about squirrels right now. Is that because there’s a stigma against them? I don’t remember learning anything about them in school, or even outside of school, even though they’re all over the place. That doesn’t seem right. Is this a concept of my upbringing? What have I done to deserve this displeasure? Can anybody hear me?

Help? As I retake up my pace downhill, I realize just how outloudly I proclaimed the ponderings that I have mentioned above. I also have come to the conclusion as to what I’ll do with the wholesale-sized box of miniscule barf bags that has been sitting in my garage since the chipmunk crisis. There’s a reason for everything, I suppose.

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Commercial Break TV Show Announcer: We’ll be back with more Buzzy B. Adventures after a quick break! Commercial 1 Gloop Announcer: (Sing-songy) “Where ya going with my Gloop?!” Hey hey kids! Ittttt’s Gloop! The toy that’s taking America by storm! Gloop in your hands! Gloop in the car! Gloop in the shower! Just don’t eat it! Put it under Mom’s pillow! Flush it down the toilet! Use it as artificial earwax! Gloop whatever you want! Just don’t eat it! Ittttt’s Gloop! A Jansen Family Product. Commercial 2 Man in Suit: Hello. I’m Robert Maddox of Maddox and Maddox Law Group, representing the class action lawsuit against Gloop products and the Jansen Family Corporation. If you have had a serious injury by the use of a Gloop toy, you may be entitled to compensation. Gloop products have been found to be made of hazardous materials deemed unsuitable for children. Gloop may cause severe health issues when in contact with the skin, and fatal if swallowed, ingested, or placed in the ear canal. If you or anyone you love has been harmed by the use of a Gloop toy, call us today. TV Show Announcer: Now back to more Buzzy B. Adventures! Buzzy B: Thanks to my bee-utifully engineered wings, I was able to circumnavigate the globe much quicker than expected, stopping The Fumigator before he could cover the sun’s rays over Europe with his permanent smoke screen! Buzz-ah! Now what do we do with all this free time? Buzzy B: … Announcer: We’ll be back with more Buzzy B. Adventures after a quick break! Commercial 1 Gloop Announcer: (Sing-songy) “Where ya going with my Gloop?!” Hey hey kids! Ittttt’s Gloop! The toy that’s taking America by storm! It’s fun! It’s crazy! It’s a perfectly safe product for any one. Roll it down the stairs! Wear it on your feet! Put it in the mailbox! Gloop whatever you want! Just don’t eat it! Ittttt’s Gloop! A Jansen Family Product. Commercial 2 Man in Suit: Robert Maddox here of Maddox and Maddox Law Group. The class action lawsuit against Gloop products and the Jansen Family Corporation is growing. Are you entitled to compensation? Gloop may cause severe health issues when in contact with the

The Trial Issue

skin, and fatal if swallowed, ingested, or given to your mail carrier. In Nevada, one mailman has died. If you or anyone you love has been harmed by the use of a Gloop toy, call us today. TV Show Announcer: Now back to more Buzzy B. Adventures! Buzzy B: Paris sure is nice! I don’t get much time to sit down and enjoy the sights, what with saving the world and all. I think I’ll stay on this bench for a while and feed these birds. Buzzy B: … Announcer: We’ll be back with more Buzzy B. Adventures after a quick break! Commercial 1 Gloop Announcer: (Sing-songy) “Where ya going with my Gloop?!” Hey hey kids! Ittttt’s Gloop! Wait wait wait! Put that phone down! It’s Gloop! It’s Gloop, guys! Come on, here! Gloop! Throw it in a cornfield! Stretch it into shoelace! Put it in a safety deposit box and bury the key! Just QUIT eating it! Ittttt’s Gloop! Man with Frosted Tips: Hi, I’m Anthony Jansen, CEO of Jansen Family Products. I’m sure you’ve heard of the recent allegations brought against our company regarding the safety of our product, Gloop. While Gloop toys are not intended to be swallowed, these claims of health issues are false and wildly exaggerated. To prove the safety of our products, I’d like to demonstrate the nontoxicity of Gloop by swallowing this Gloop toy in my hand. (Gulp) You see? Fun and safe for the whole family. To put these claims to rest, we here at JFP are countersuing for defamation and libel. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going with ya Gloop, straight to court. Ittttt’s Gloop! A Jansen Family Product. Commercial 2 Man in Suit: Hi there, I’m Robert Maddox of Maddox and Maddox Law Group. The class action lawsuit against Gloop toys and Jansen Family Products has reached a settlement following the sudden death of Jansen Family Products CEO Anthony Jansen. If you are entitled to compensation, please join us at Mr. Jansen’s memorial service, where every victim will be gifted a free Gloop toy. And remember, Ittttt’s Maddox and Maddox Law Group. Call us today. TV Show Announcer: Now back to more Buzzy B. Adventures! Buzzy B: Can’t believe I’m still here just feeding these birds! Wow, isn’t life amazing? It’s not about our possessions or our financial gain, or even about understanding the complex process of our nation’s judicial system. It’s about enjoying the simple things… Funny, isn’t it? Announcer: Only 29 more minutes of Buzzy B. Adventures! --