Words Worth Reading by Union Weekly

Opinions: 4-5 News: 6 Literature: 7 Comics: 8 Feature: 10-11 Entertainment: 12-13 Music: 14 Culture: 15

The short list of our short story winners P.10

WORDS WORTH READING

May 6 2013 Volume 72 Lbunion.com

Issue 72.14

Vincent Chavez, Editor-in-Chief editorinchief@lbunion.com Colleen Brown, Managing Editor colleen.union@gmail.com Gabe Ferreira, Managing Editor gabe.union@gmail.com Marco Beltran, Senior Editor marcob.union@gmail.com Michael Wood, Opinions Editor opinions@lbunion.com Brianne Schaer, News Director news@lbunion.com John Villanueva, Music Editor music@lbunion.com Connor O’Brien, Entertainment Editor entertainment@lbunion.com Wes Verner, Literature Editor literature@lbunion.com Colleen Brown, Culture Editor culture@lbunion.com Rose Feduk, Comics Editor comic@lbunion.com Duchess of Spain, Grunion Editor grunion@lbunion.com Gabe Ferreira, Art Director gabe.union@gmail.com Brian Mark, Art Director brianmark.union@gmail.com Connor O’Brien, Photo Editor connor.union@gmail.com Nichole Daniels, Illustration Editor nichole.union@gmail.com Leo Portugal, Web Manager web@lbunion.com Eric Garcia, Advertising Executive advertising@lbunion.com Assitant Editors: Sierra Patheal, Katie Healy, Wes Young, Eddie Viramontes, Alia Sabino Staffers/Contributors: Joseph Phillips, Jon Bolin, Ben Novotny, Amy Patton, Rachel Clare, Molly Shannon, Christy Bonham, Roque Renteria, Alex Miklovic, Nathan Moore, Matthew Vitalich, Renee Moulton, Brittany Wilson, Robert Turner, Jennifer Maravillas, Nate Musser, Alex Herrera, Sarah Sandoval Disclaimer and Publication Information: The Union Weekly is published using ad money and partial funding provided by the Associated Students, Inc. All Editorials are the opinions of the Union weekly, not ASI or CSULB. All students are welcome and encouraged to be a part of the Union Weekly staff. All letters to the editor will be considered for publication. However, CSULB students will have precedence. Please include name and major for all submissions. They are subject to editing and will not be returned. Letters may or may not be edited for grammar, spelling, punctuation, and length. The Union Weekly will publish anonymous letters, articles, editorials, and illustrations, but must have your name and information attached for our records. Letters to the editor should be no longer than 500 words. The Union Weekly assumes no responsibility, nor is it liable, for claims of its advertisers. Grievance procedures Questions? Comments? Corndogs? CA 90815. E-mail: info@lbunion.com

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Vin’s Two Cents Letters to and from the Editor Vincent Chavez Editor-in-Chief, Unemployed Sack of Shit We may look happy in the picture (our first staff photo of the year), but it wasn’t all sunshine, daisies, and butter mellows this year. We’ve had to deal with features falling through, low open meeting turnouts, and sometimes leaving the office at 5am on Sundays. But by far the darkest moment this year was during a contentious title brainstorm for the Meltdown Comics feature. We were all shouting at each other: “The feature is about nerd culture!” “You weren’t even there for the interview; it’s about mom and pop businesses.” “Well, your opinion is invalid because you’re a squat-assed bitch.”

It was vicious. Afterwards I was shaking. All I could think was, “I have never in my life yelled at a girl like this.” We may have fought this year, but I love all the crazy bastards in that photo and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. None of them. Well, except Rose. No tea no shade, that trick is a hoe pho show. Nah, I’m just teasing; Rose is arguably the hardest working person in this office. And naturally I would tease my replacement. Did I mention Rose Feduk is the new Editor-in-Chief?! Well, she is. So I’ve been making her life a living hell to prepare her for the hardships of the job. It’s like when my big brother punched me in the face

every day for a year. He was teaching me how to be tough just in case he died and I would have to replace him as the eldest Chavez boy. As for me, I’m graduating. I’ll be long gone and forgotten within weeks. But don’t cry for me. One, I’m already dead. And two, I couldn’t be happier because I left this paper in better shape than when I found it. Anyways, this is suppossed to be a celebration. We crowned our short story winners, so go somewhere quiet, turn to page 10, and escape your stressful college life for few precious moments. Because it’ll be over before you know it. Oh god, why am I sobbing?

Thank You

Fuck You

Our Readers Lovely Jams contestants Gabe’s mom Duong Vuong Meltdown Comics Sylvana Sylvana Learning Center Experimental design No mames, güey Lil’ Mamacita Apple Juice John & Jon Long Johnsons/Don Pianos 1st Semester Brianne King Farts Fergalicious Ashy-kneed, Stanky-legged Gypsies Dic Magazine Mom’s Spaghetti Boy penis kissing a girl penis Stink fart Honkies Beyonce Feminism Sprinkles Cupcakes

Office Printer Team JAD Campus Skateboarders Spotify ads Swag enthusiasts Jazz Daily 49er Penis sucking another penis #hashtag Scrotum bracelets 2nd Semester Brianne Gabe’s knee Mitt Romney Homophobia Stories about Alison Ernst F. King Alexander Squat-Asses Jazz Toilet seat pissers Nathan “I need time to find myself” Cruz Butt-Chuggers Juggers Yu-gi-oh players (for leaving their garbage) Garbage Queens The Administration

Jelly Roll Scrolls Scrotes Men Who Stare at Scrotes Goats Cartoon Network on Netflix Summah Girls RuPaul’s Drag Race Alyssa Edwards Hibbies Peace Pipe Johnson Piston’s Bar Docking Rango Bland Chicken Dijon Ratassball Lana Del Ray Living Single theme song Queef LaQueefa Kwanza Quences Dean’s Pizza The Duchess (for being a friend) Iguana Kelly’s Sean Paul Dungeons & Dragons Wigs/Weaves

Brolos Gabe Furrurri Panda Express Jazz Stinky Fridges Coffee Mold Dildo Bland Chicken Dijon Lana Del Rey Coco Montrese My Bowels Eating 2 or more Carl’s Spicy Chickens Hobo Harris Frats Farewell season of The Office Coachella Sean and Zent Basic-ass Muggles Depression

OPINIONS

Union Weekly—6 March 2013

What the Hell is Normal? Making sense of gender identity Brittany Williams Contributor I spent last Saturday night playing this game called Cards Against Humanity, the adult version of Apples to Apples. Of course a few drinks were had. Drunk and aloof, I’m almost about to win. Then along comes the black card that the judge draws and the statement is: “A girl’s best friend is (blank).” Someone thought it would be funny to dish out a card that said “Menstrual Rage.” I admit it was hilarious until ironically I wake up at 2am with cramps that I wouldn’t wish on my enemy’s mother. Sitting up rocking in bed brought to my attention the struggle of being a female. Not only physically with the menstruation, but emotionally as well. I consider myself androgynous (NOW). Don’t know what that means? Well think of Prince or Ellen DeGeneres. They’re people who break the barrier of both gender and sexuality. They keep you in that unfamiliar and uncomfortable zone of “WTF are you?” I didn’t understand how people could move along the spectrum of masculinity and femininity. It would transform me

internally and externally, and it wasn’t until I sat and talked to myself like the crazy person that I am, that I acknowledged I can exist this way. At first I felt ashamed and alone, but I’ve learned to embrace that shit. Sometimes I feel so damn sexy. I want to show off my voluptuous curves and flat stomach. Sometimes I want to apply a little mascara and concealer. I want to embrace the woman that I am. I guess you can say I succumb to the stereotype of how a girl should act or feel or look like, sometimes. There are other times when I don’t want my clothes to cling to my body; I want to wear my loose-fitting Levi’s. Or I want to wear a really big shirt and a baseball cap. During these times I’m aggressive and extremely confident. This side appeals to the ideal of what is masculine. I understand that this seems confusing but the more I grow with myself the more sense it makes. I’ve battled with trying to fit in with what is considered normal. But essentially what the hell is normal? Thinking normalcy

exists is in itself absurd. Chasing some ideal to fit in with the majority is inherently a lot more draining than trying to keep up with whether I want to be “feminine” one day or “masculine” another. Being a nonconformist nowadays is cool (and I kind of hate that but that’s for another time), but I’ve been doing this thing since I was five. What I’m really trying to get at is, it is truly a difficult task to find out who you are suppose to be, what you’re suppose to look like, and to ignore the camel toes that high waist shorts produce. This is just one part of who I will be in the near future, but I do know for sure when it comes to me feeling comfortable with who I portray myself as, I’ve got that down. So no, I don’t apologize to those of you who I have confused before. Just shake your head in agreement at my fly-ass outfit and my nappy-ass hair. And this black girl is out!

Snapshot Culture Paparazzi and celebrity worship make for an abundance of intrusion Robert Turner Contributor Oh internet, the endless bounds of information I can gather from you with the strike of a keyboard and click of a mouse…you are there when I want to watch people hurt themselves and when I need some research data for that 10 page term paper. But from time to time, I enjoy going to my local news website, since I don’t watch television at home, and seeing what’s up with the world. And almost every time I log on to that front page, I hang my head in dismay when all they can talk about is Michael Jackson’s death (still!?!) followed by an exploit of whichever NFL or NBA star decided to lift his finger that week. Now I know plenty of other things are happening in the world right now, like Hungary’s fall of democracy, or even those lost hikers up in some Californian forest, yet all we care about is our dearest celebrities. Of course I cannot fully blame the publishers for all this, for many journalists and reporters are simply going for the gold of the media industry (let’s just call them sell outs for now). Celebrity gossip is in

high demand, since the American public just can’t keep their nose out of their hero’s or idol’s personal business. From STARZ magazine and TMZ to televised court cases, we just can’t get enough of them. All we want to read about is Lindsey Lohan’s drug abuse and failed rehabilitation attempts and how Amanda Bynes flashed her tits all over her Facebook page. Oh Ryan Gosling has a girlfriend now? Better tell his gigantic fan-girl base the big news over every media publication out there. You were trying to keep it secret from the public, Ryan? Should have thought of that before you became an actor. What is most screwed, in my opinion, are the lengths these reporters are going to dig up these celebrity hot spots and scandals. I understand you have to pay rent, but sneaking along Hollywood Blvd to find your story hidden behind a pair of expensive sunglasses and baseball caps? Call me what you will, but that is some dirty work. These people have cameras in their face already for their career, and now must face a world of hunters with

even more cameras which gladly bombard every aspect of their social, mental, emotional, physical, and even spiritual life! Axl Rose may have been a dick, but who can blame the man for socking that paparazzo? I’m sure if I followed you around with a camera in your face butting in on your business, you wouldn’t take kindly to my method. Like I said earlier, I cannot fully blame them; they are doing their job and making a living. The finger is pointed right at the audience, the ones demanding to know why Lil Wayne lost his endorsement from PepsiCo (not that I minded that one). Maybe if we paid attention to real news and focused on our own lives, we could go one day without ranting about how stupid everyone is, and maybe even hinder affluenza when we aren’t surrounded by jealously of luxury and stardom. I for one am tired of seeing them all flaunt their hardly hard-earned bucks all over my computer screen.

When will we realize that a path built on war and conquest is not proper for our nation? When will we realize that the oppressed and impoverished people of this world do not need guns, they need food, jobs, healthcare, and a place to live? Our morbid obsession with death, violence and terror has made itself evident in two events this week. The NRA held its annual convention in Houston this week, where several thousand gun fanatics puffed out their chest and proclaimed a proud victory over the defeat of the massively popular federal background check bill and mocked gun control advocates while the families of people killed by gun violence sat outside. It was a distinctly American ceremony where the violent and the brutish can arrogantly claim victory over those moved by tragedy. And on the other side of things, President Obama has been weighing the possibility of openly arming Syrian rebels against their government. The concerns that Islamists and terrorists are within the ranks of the so called “freedom fighters” are not being heard in the mainstream media. While the dictatorship of Bashaar Al Assad is brutal and detestable, one wonders what rule by Islamic fundamentalists will look like in Syria. The situation bears a striking resemblance to one of the Reagan administrations most critical faults. During the 1980s, the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan and intervened in their civil war. Due to the Cold War politics at the time, the United States began shipping arms to the Mujahadeen, claiming they represented freedom from communist oppression when in actuality, the Mujahadeen became in large part what we now know as the Taliban, which of course was responsible for sheltering Al Qaeda in the wake of September 11th. We cannot afford to repeat this. So what is my point exactly? I’ll make it clear and concise, Americans hold a violent culture and it is harming ourselves and the world as a whole, day after day. How do you solve the problem of a violent culture? I’m not sure, I’m nowhere near qualified to answer that sort of question. But while we deny that we have a problem, it will be immensely more difficult to solve it. People, mostly within the United States itself, love to think of Americans as freedom loving. But how can we see ourselves as freedom loving if we cannot ensure the right of people to enjoy a full life?

Union Weekly—6 March 2013

Going Out with a Gripe

OPINIONS

Intro by Michael Wood Opinions Editor

It’s the end of the year. Some of you might have even survived it! But, there is no tradition greater among college students, twenty-somethings and that general category we call douchebags than complaining. And there is nothing more relatable than complaining about the year that we all suffered through together. Really, it’s kind of a bonding experience.

Surprisingly, I had some trouble finding complaints about this campus. Contentment seems to be the norm, which speaks volumes about us. One only has to spend a day on campus at some other nearby CSUs or UCs to fill a laundry list of complaints (Particularly if you’re a connoisseur of complaints such as I). Either I was only talking to the

most Mr. Rodgers style positive peeps this campus has to offer or we actually are a happy campus. But regardless, my collection of complaints ranges from the personal and petty, to the systemic and bureaucratic. The Romans used to say “Vox populi, vox Dei.” Now there’s probably going to be someone studying the classics who

is going to call me out on my limited knowledge of Latin but it essentially means “The voice of the people is the voice of God.” I’m a tad concerned about that possibility because I went around campus talking to folks, asking them what their least favorite thing about this school year was. These are their answers:

“Everything on this campus is too spread out, there’s too much walking between classes”

“People need to accept the fact that cramming two days

“People who wear pajamas and slippers on campus. I don’t care that you live on campus, you’re still gross”

“Politics and bureaucracy are getting in the way of enjoying clubs and student organizations”

“The library is not open late enough”

“The food on campus is awful and unhealthy”

“It’s very tough to get the classes that I need”

“Skateboarders need to get the fuck out of my way”

“The administration sucks big, wrinkly, hairy scrotums”

“The parking on this campus is awful”

“I hate people in big groups having fun!”

“College has suddenly become about getting a degree and not an education”

not work”

“How expensive all of “It’s just too hard” my textbooks are” (sobs)

“I didn’t get laid enough”

NEWS

Union Weekly—6 May 2013

Oh Shit, Oh Shit, Real Life, Oh Shit Figuring out the next step in life after earning a useless degree Jennifer Maravillas Contributor Graduation. What now? The bittersweet angst of finally graduating and the anxiety of “what’s next” has begun. Whether you are one of the lucky few to graduate with a job, or you are still figuring out what to do with your life, here are some pointers. First of all, roughly 50 percent of college graduates will be unemployed or underemployed. Yes, this number may freak most of us out (mainly the people without a job lined up), but there are a few resources on campus that can help you better prepare for the next step in your life: Resume Writing Your resume is everything. It is the most vital part of your portfolio and is essentially your number one “selfmarketing” tool. Drop-in peer advising in the Career Development Center

(Brotman Hall 250) is available MondayFriday 11am - 4:30pm They can review you resume and help you with editing and formatting. It’s free! Interview Skills The interview process can be scary and nerve-wracking, but preparation and practice can make all the difference. Mock interviews are available by appointment in the Career Development Office. You can schedule yours by visiting or calling the CDC (562) 985-4181. It’s free! Job Searching Well you kind of need to find someone that is hiring to actually get a job so obviously you need a little job search. BeachLINK is the official CSULB job posting system where you can find full-time, part-time, seasonal, oncampus, off-campus and even internship

opportunities. You just need to set up you BeachLINK account and start you search. Visit careers.csulb.edu. It’s free! Grad School! Because 4+ years of undergraduate work was not enough and you are craving more, grad school it is. If you don’t know where to begin and need some guidance and are a clueless little undergraduate who has no idea what to do for grad school you may want to start at the Career Development Center. You can find an extensive resource library with plenty of information to get you started. A graduate school counselor is also available by appointment. The Career Development Office is located in Brotman Hall. Room 250 and can be reached at (562) 985- 4151.The services are available and FREE for one year for CSULB graduates.

If you’re not mentally prepared for any of the aforementioned options: Travel/Volunteer Two words: Peace Corps. Yes they do require a two year commitment but they do offer programs that help you pay off some of your loans and they have graduate programs available. You get to utilize your degree, you go away for a couple of years and you help make a difference (cliché I know, but it’s true). Whatever direction you move towards and wherever it is that you end up, remember: that is exactly where you are supposed to be. Good luck, ya’ll!

LITERATURE Union Weekly—6 May 2013

Nothing is Better Than Something Free Free Comic Book Day has come and gone, but check out what we got!

Words by Union Staff

It saddened me to hear the woman at Pulp Fiction tell her coworker that someone had thought the stack of Comic Strip Masterpieces was supposed to be thrown away. Remembering the yellowed comic strip anthologies that my dad had given me as a child, I lit up at the sight of full pages of vintage comics like Winsor McCay’s Little Nemo, Alex Raymond’s Flash Gordon, and Chester Gould’s Dick Tracy in full color on newsprint. Being a compilation of reprints, Comic Strip Masterpieces highlights portions of recently-published collections of comic strips that are now considered classics while allowing you to soak in that nostalgic charm of artwork from eras gone by. The compilation also serves as a reminder that racism used to be kind of okay with the warning “These books contain images that may be considered racially and ethnically offensive by today’s standards” slapped underneath some of the comics from the turn of the century. Pretty racist caricatures aside, Comic Strip Masterpieces might be the coolest thing I’m ever going get at a Free Comic Book Day.

I was excited about The Strangers from the moment I saw it until I read it. I skimmed through the issue as I walked to the car admiring how the panels seem to be equal parts colorful and campy, like someone upped the contrast of an episode of Batman. Awesome, in my opinion. But despite how much I like the art, this story as a preview to the first issue of an ongoing series is muddled and underdeveloped. The Strangers follows the Strangers of Sandoval, Michael Kono and Verity Mills, super-powered spy types that infiltrate an island country to find information regarding involvement of an evil organization named Capricorn in the recent personality shift of the president of a Caribbean island. They stumble onto a yet unknown alien plot. It’s 20+ pages of information being thrown at you at a ridiculous pace. There’s no time to give a glint of what the characters’ powers are or even who Capricorn is or even what the Strangers do.

For whatever reason, It took me a while to realize that Ramayan 3392AD was based on the epic (also epic in the sense that that shit is long, being a series of seven books) Hindu story about the life of the avatar Rama and his wife Sita. Being such an action-packed story, of course it makes sense for the text to be converted into a comic book series with a sci-fi bent meant to appeal to a younger generation. My gripe with this Free Comic Book Day sample is that there isn’t any indication to what exactly this is. With every couple of pages featuring a different character drawn and written by someone completely different with stories that don’t really have anything to do with each other, I couldn’t really come out of reading the sample with even a basic summary. Thus, the sample becomes the worst kind of teaser: eye-catching but incredibly vague. The sample ends with concept art for Grant Morrison’s proposed animated series 18 Days, which looks like something that would make lovers of epic fantasies cream their chainmail shorts. But let’s hope that the series’ YouTube channel isn’t just another frustrating series of trailers that seriously lack any kind of relevant information.

I found out too late that this comic was a double sneak peek at two wholly unrelated graphic novels. You know what ruins a graphic novel? Excerpting. The first one is about a bunch of dudes chasing a murderer and they’re being led by a Mexican in the way that a bunch of ‘Coon Hunters in West Virginia are led by a bloodhound. Anyway, they catch up to him, he starts shooting, they shoot back, then he makes eye contact with the Mexican and the Mexican says, “He is gone.” What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Comic Book Stores We Visited and Would Like to Thank: Pulp Fiction 1742 Clark Ave Long Beach, CA 90815 Amazing Comics & Cards 5555 E Stearns St Ste 103 Long Beach, CA 90815

Spot the Difference

Connor O’Brien Entertainment Editor, Dick Nose

Rose Feduk Comics Editor, America’s Next Drag Superstar

Space Dog

Answers (Don’t look here, cheaters!) 1.Uma’s got a Kill Bill sword 2. She’s reading Dic mag! 3. That balloon is blue now! 4. He liked it but didn’t put a ring on it 5. Her cuff is all grey and murky 6. She got an erring 7. She gotta dick nose!

EASY

Union Weekly—6 May 2013 COMICS

FEATURE

Union Weekly—6 May 2013

WORDS WORTH READING

some of the earliest examples of printed short stories, Bocacio’s Decameron and Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, both of which were printed in the 14th century. From there, the genre has expanded and now includes reading out there. As the name would suggest, short

minimal space. There is no room for does not waste time reading, nor does the writer feel obliged to write pages of unwanted exposition. The short story gets right down to the meat of it, and in roughly 5 to 20 pages the reader can experience

The short list of our short story winners

The short story as a literary form, in my opinion, is highly underrated. Often

Intro by Amy Patton Union Staffer

not consider short stories when looking for much to offer, though, if only society at large could realize the potential. The short story form allows for experimental formatting and stylistics, as well as highly concentrated with a satisfying experience. Whether your attention. drawing inspiration from the Greek Fables, Roman Anecdotes, and other oral

Story form forces the writer to tell a story in 300 to 1000 words. The short story form

unlike any other form of literature. Short

plot formula. Its refreshing newness is welcomed by the readership and the results are stories that can be so peculiar that you can’t put them down. interesting because the authors set up a world entirely different from the one in which am able to put aside the setting and clearly focus on what they are teaching me through where to start when looking into the short story, though. In a society where the short story is brushed under the mainstream

are

I recommend starting with contemporary pieces and working your way back to older stories, but that’s just me. This week we opened up these precious printed pages to those of you who felt

hundreds of pages, but at the same time, you are limited to the few pages you are allotted. It is fun to experiment, and often rewarding. The short story allows you

piles of stories [Editor’s Note: one pile, and a small pile at that] and these are the entries

enough dedication, the results can be

aspiring author or sifu of the short story, the tales here are all by CSULB students. So next time you pick up a pen, or are

For

the

writer,

short

stories

will draw your readers in. allows readers and writers alike to

your time. Who knows, your name might end up here one day.

Short Story (700-1,000 words) WINNER

The Driver by Nate Musser Union Staffer

It isn’t the nicotine he craves anymore. Really, he’s just gotten so used to having the stick between his fingers that he feels unbalanced without it. He takes his smoke breaks around eleven and then again at two; his receptionist keeps a scented aerosol can at her desk to clean the stench every time he walks by. Don’t breathe so much, he’ll sometimes tell her with a teasing smile. She chuckles, only because she gets paid to do so. Throughout the day, the man squints

at numbers and columns on his computer screen. He rearranges them, types new ones, and squints again. His mind stops for nothing except hunger pangs and that wobbly feeling just before eleven and two. His day ends at five, just like the rest of the world, and it’s the perfect time to sit in an hour’s worth of traffic; his favorite part of the day. By design, the man brings three cigarettes to work every day. He neatly lines them in his shirt pocket, and takes one out for each break; the last one is for the ride home. Traffic is especially bad today. Construction in the downtown area has cars lined up well past the Stockett Street onramp where the man now sits. Every window is rolled down; he’s looking for some mercy from the swelter. There isn’t much of a wind, and when it blows, it’s warm and dry, a product of the week-long heat wave engulfing the city. Tiny beads of sweat begin to develop at his brow as he eases off the brake just a little and merges slowly onto the freeway.

The gridlock is official. Some vehicles inch forward now and then, but it feels more like they’re packing in tighter, not really moving forward. He releases pressure off the brake for a second. The imbalance starts to overcome him. The man closes his eyes, caulks his head both ways and feels normal again. He winces. A few minutes, and only ten feet later, he can feel it again. His equilibrium fades and his vision blurs. It’s something like being an inexperienced tightrope walker he thinks, or a baby after a thimble of whisky taken for a toothache. In the dry, smokestained interior of his car, the man forgets about the heat, about the traffic, about numbers and columns and finally fades towards January. He’s with her now, tightly holding her against his body. It’s unbelievable, he thinks, how perfectly his hands rest upon her hips. He tells her so and she pulls him tighter, as if his arms can make warmth spread like chicken noodle soup. It’s so bitter cold that his fingers are numb; hers too. “It’s freezing,” he says, trying to coax her

inside, but her feet are planted strong, and wordlessly she convinces him to stay out, just a little longer. She starts to talk about her mother. This is the first time she’s ever said a word about either one of her parents. For some reason, it always seemed a sore subject, so he never brought it up. “My mother,” she starts, “would have loved this place.” He’s silent, only listening, and swaying softly. “She used to light up a cigarette and go to the kitchen window while I was out playing in the snow,” her voice is solid, though her body trembles. He tightens his grip again. “She wanted to keep an eye on me when the sun started going down. I would look over towards the window and see her face blurred by the condensation. The smoke from her cigarette would always creep through the hole I’d made in the window the summer I was five.” Her body stops shaking. “The day she didn’t come home the snow started melting. I remember feeling

Union Weekly—6 May 2013

the slosh between my toes when my dad walked me home from school for the first time. He didn’t say a word,” she pauses. In the moment, he can’t understand exactly what she is telling him or why, but each word comes out with an absolute uppercut of truth and vulnerability. He isn’t sure if he’s taken a breath since she started speaking; maybe neither of them has. She turns around to face him, her eyes stuck in his, as if in a trance. The words hang over them like the icicles from the roof. He didn’t say a word. His hands hurt. They’re stiff and it feels

like they’ve forgotten how to move, but he grasps her hands as best he could. “I can’t feel a thing,” she says, her face relaxing to a subtle smile, “but it feels really good.” It takes him just a second to think of what to say. It’s something he’s been thinking for the past two days, almost constantly. “We can stay here forever if you want.” The blaring honk of the car horn from behind him yanks him back. He jolts, and quickly pulls his foot off the brake, moving the car forward into a new patch

FEATURE

of open asphalt. Reality hits him like the first day after morphine. He reaches for his shirt pocket, his fingers all too nimble. The cigarette lights on the first try and he breathes in deep. A steady stream of smoke emerges from his lips, pouring through the window into the city before it finally dissipates, just like a dream.

Flash Fiction (300-500 words) WINNER

Here we are now by Nate Musser Union Staffer

SECOND PLACE

Don’t be a no-try guy by Alex Herrera Contributor

THIRD PLACE

Only Monday by Rachel Clare Union Staffer

Mona drank white wine. John sipped a nice whiskey. The rest of the room was filled with Coors Light-sipping 21-yearolds. Mona watched the bar. John cracked a peanut but did not eat it. “Smells Like Teen Spirit” came on the jukebox. Mona grinned. “What was the name of this album?” she asked, leaning in closer to her husband. “What?” John furrowed his brow. “This album,” she said a little louder. “It had the baby in the pool on the cover.” John said nothing.

“Do you think any of these kids even know this song?” Mona asked. “We’re only a few years older.” A kid with no sleeves stumbled off his barstool and bumped into John. “Whoa, sorry sir,” the kid said. John waved his hand and cracked a thin smile. “No problem, dude.” Mona spun her ring around her finger, then sipped her wine. She smiled at John, but he stared through her, his eyes locked on a television set that showed the Dodgers game. Cobain screamed the chorus, and

Mona tried to sing along. She played with her long black hair and thought of when it was short and pink. Her husband’s once-ragged hair had long been trimmed, gelled and styled into a perfect part. The jukebox was right behind her, but the music was miles away. “Damn, it’s really bugging me,” she said. “What?” John asked. “Never mind.”

Inhale. Hold. Five-four-three-two-one. Exhale. Drink chamomile lavender tea right before, your mother advises, to calm the nervous system. It’s not that you want to be a No-Try Guy, but it can be hard to find your voice when your heart decides you’re a hopeless cause and attempts to abandon ship. Good morning Communications Class, I’m going to present my topic on Star Wars in a ridiculously engaging manner. Insert universally hilarious joke. But no, your feet and words stumble, your eyes stay glued to the fourth wall. Idiot. You

didn’t even remember to tell the punchline: because until he hooked up with Leia, his name was Hand Solo. Damn. And now that pretty girl Stacy won’t talk to you after class. She wants Cool Smile Guy. You’re certain because you found her on Tumblr once, and all she ever posts are pictures of him and turtles. You sport neither six pack abs nor a bony plastron. No chance. But you remember telling yourself that the worst sin in the Bible is sloth, because how can you build a fucking arc and save

dinosaurs and pandas if you don’t even try? Not that you’re religious, but when you read that as a kid you found it profoundly deep. So you try again. And your heart runs away. And again. And your heart jogs a short distance ahead of you. And again. And your heart walks right alongside you. Pretty soon you toss your supply of chamomile lavender tea. You’re still not Cool Smile Guy so Stacy still doesn’t want to talk to you, but Irene does. She said she liked the way you talked with your hands, and that’s enough to make you try again tomorrow.

Chewed up pens and a trashcan full of crumpled papers are all he has to show for his work. It’s two hours into the day and he’s idly sipping from his coffee mug. The liquid is cold, dark, and leaving a temporary stain on the white ceramic, but it gives him something to focus on aside from the figures and Excel sheets on his computer screen. A post-it next to his keyboard holds a sketch of a cat playing cards. He smiles, smoothing down the piece of paper and setting his mug back down on the desk. A phone rings in a nearby cubicle. Someone answers, asks a question,

takes notes. He clicks at a box on the open Excel chart on his screen, dragging his cursor over rows and columns of numbers. Pointless. Pointless. Pointless. He opens a desk drawer, closes it when he remembers he isn’t actually looking for anything. The office is mildly quiet. Coworkers talk about their weekends between business calls. He turns back and forth in his chair, letting the momentum slowly blur his line of vision before he is once again facing his computer screen.

A stack of papers sits next to his coffee mug. More information to be put into the Excel sheet. More numbers. He flicks a paper clip across the top of the pile, a metallic flash beneath the fluorescent lights. It flip-flops to a stop below the mini calendar pinned to his cubicle wall. He nearly groans when his eyes catch the date. Monday. Only Monday. Shoulders slumped, he picks up his nearly empty mug, swishes the remains at the bottom, and heads for the break room. This day is going to need more coffee.

ENTERTAINMENT Union Weekly—6 May 2013

The Iron Man Cometh...Again An arc reactor powered, cast iron, repulsor-proof trilogy

Sarah Sandoval Contributor Disney and Marvel’s third film in the Iron Man series was thrilling and had audiences on the edge of their seat. The film opens up by taking the viewer back in time to 1999. There, you see the arrogant, egotistical playboy version of Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.). Fast forward to present day and meet the new Tony. Though he is still full of his wit and charisma, something is off. Stark is skittish, unable to sleep, full of anxiety, and uneasy. This is due to past events of fighting off aliens last summer in The Avengers. He spends his days and nights building suit after suit. From start to finish, there wasn’t a dull moment. Ambitious and full of action from the get-go; the scenes were executed flawlessly. The visual effects are intense,

crisp, and fun. Prepare for many fiery explosions. It wasn’t just violent action. Many ariel aerobatics took place, from switching suits mid-jump, to sky soaring rescues; there is no shortage of action. One thing I did not expect was so much comedy. Laughter was definitely something I experienced more than I ever expected to while watching the film. When you think of Iron Man, the first thing that comes to mind is action and maybe some wit. But, this was more of an action-comedy. It was refreshing and a nice surprise to add some comedic flair. Kudos for the comedy. Unfortunately, there was one aspect that I was not so crazy about: the lack of iron. The movie took on a more human approach, more Tony Stark and a little less

Iron Man. In part three, after taking some hard hits and not having enough power to charge his prototype suit, Tony has to be Iron Man but without the suit. This proves to be a hard task to do. Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow), Tony’s lady, actually shows a purpose in this film. Usually, we see Pepper as the head of Stark Industries, but this time around there is a bit more depth to her character. It is a nice change from the boring suits and ponytails. It only took three movies. After some destruction, Stark flees Malibu and finds refuge in a small Tennessee town, thus taking him out of his element and comfort. He stumbles across a barn where he meets a young boy, Harley (Ty Simpkins), with whom Tony grows

to have a deep connection with. Harley helps Stark in his time of crisis, and even tries to support him through his anxiety attacks after the attack on his home by the Madarin. With his brave personality and Starky wit, Harley steals his scenes and proves to be an asset to the film. Overall, I must say this was my favorite of the three Iron Man films. The changes behind the scenes with new director and co-writer Shane Black is presumably to credit for this upgrade. I give Iron Man 3 an 8/10. I guess they did save the best for last. But wait, does that mean it is the end of the road for Iron Man? You tell me.

Union Weekly—6 May 2013

ENTERTAINMENT

Drunksmary & Thyme Editors get drunk and review best show ever: Rosemary & Thyme Intro by Connor O’Brien Entertainment Editor, Sage

Hey pals, since this is the last issue of the semester, I was given the power to choose which show our editors would review under the influence, and I decided on the crime drama Rosemary & Thyme. In true drunk review fashion, the reviews will be printed as is, no editing. Three editors writing about R&T. Here we go.

Words by Union Staff

What the fuck am I watching Is this DowntonAbbey, no it can’t be not cant like Asian Eyes, but can’t. I’m writing this the OG way with a pen and paper. It’s harder. But no, this is similarly Bitish, but It’s not the Downton Abbe nope. What Rose I know exactly what’s happening. Why is rooms What There was a Murder apparently. I missed that. Alright folks we’re starting the minute by minute here. I can’t believe Connor watches this shit. This Italian guy just said “Agetabiati’ and that’s not racist because Italians are stupid. Relly I can’t understand anything that’s going on in this show. I can’t imagine anyone under 60 years old watching this bullshit. That girl just said PUCCI. My wine. Like borat. How he says my wife. Everyone on this show talks funny and I don’t think it’s on purpose. I hate when British shows use the name “Basil” and say it like “Bah-sils” Can I get a what what. This lady is about to get conned. You can just tell. This show can’t trick me. I can tell by the music. The lady said “Prosec-yo” and I don’t know what that is. Sounds like Prcuitto. Prochootuo. Prochoootooo. Lunch meat, bitch. I really don’t know what the fuck this lady is doing. Probably about to dance around with a silk scarf like the big brassy woman that she is. A LADY IS DEAD. I had no idea that this was a crime show. I actually don’t know what this is. It’s like Sherlock holmes with lesbians? Is that offensive? I was just trying to be funny I’m sorry. I think this lady looks like pictures of my dead grandma. Now there’s a guy speaking Italian that looks like mr. bean’s handsome couson. I think these ladies live in a garden. Someone in the office said that someone is being sued but seriously this show is so hard to follow. Don’t watch it unless you’re like really into gypsy looking women. The lady said “patting her bottom”. Just so you know. And “Mahsterpiece” like a really rich lady who probably takes baths with fancy expensive salts and wears fox furs. Now this gypsy lady is seriously looking like teven tyler. One thing I don’t understand is how people think steven tyler is hot. I think those people have grandma fetishes. U should get back to this show. I’m really trying but I don’t now what they’re

saying. I can’t follow dialogue right now. Really though – Connor shouldn’t watch this. I bet it makes him crave making quilts or sewing muumuus. “old dramamtic white pwomen” this lady had five hundred million different colored headscarves. “trouser trouble” is a funny sounding phrase. This guy has a cosby sweater. Indeed he is the white cosby. That sounds like a robot saying it. “INDEED HE IS THE WHITE COSBY” that’s stupid. Forget I said that. Edit this out. What is this, Mr. Magoo? Can we have a dance party? I can’t feel my legs. What the fuck. I need water. If you were looking for a review you’re in the wron place my friend. This lady is from Jusrrasic Park. She’s like one of those velorcerapotors. I’m just truly entranced by this lady, I need to know her name. Sje ;ppls ;ole like a dragon lady. Did I even listen to a single sentence of dialgoie? This guy is like that guy from the iron lady. I didn’t like the iron lady that movie is fucking shitty as fuck don’t watch it. Merryl streep is really good though. I mean she’s good in anything. But not that movie. Don’t watch it. It’s a waste of time. The people who made that movie don’t even care about people or Margret thatcher or anything. And now she’s dead. Okay back to the show. We have more alcohol. .I’m trying to write about this show, fuckers. This guy is always wearing jackets and now putting his arms in the jackets. Is he too good for sleeves? Everyone just drapes sweaters over their shoulders and doesn’t just wear the fucking sweaters. She can suck a dick. Okay. Giving this show a changce. Listening. The music is like downton abbey. I know people like that. All my Maggie smith fans raise their hands in the air .this old woman is just putting a cat now. I’m going to absorb an entire sentence and type it “how many cats have you got?” that just about sums up the show. Cause these women are hags. Maybe they’ll die. I don’t know. Idk for short. Now it’s getting good cause they got lemonade. I thin kthey got this Italian guy on this show because they think he would be attractive for female viewersbut he just looks like a math teacher and speaks itlian. So way to go, rosemary and thyme. You suck. They used the same song like

five million times. I just checked and this show is only halways over. Okay Basil is the only name I recognize. Throwthese old ladies ff a building. EVERYONES NAMES ARE SPICES I JUST REALIZED THAT. Well, herbs. I dk . Dramatic music . cut to the ocean I should be a tv announcer. This is really hard to type so I’m going to push fodnw really hard on the keys. I’m a stable individual . THERE”S A DEAD GY IN A BOAT. Does anyone know if that guy is really dead. No one is anyswering me. I keep yelling . rude. Everyone that is an official wears hazmat suits. So if that offends you stay away. No one is going to read ithis. What the fuck is this Kevin Costner music. The intro looks like a fucking New Order album. Along with this bootleg Italian shit. I remember watching Tim the tool man Taylor. Fucking Gypsies… Shits a waste of time. Typographic garden and shit. Rose shut up… So Conner put it on this Thelma and Louis rip off mixied with sex and the city. Fake as bitch ass Italian accent. Have you ever seen Biodome well this is pretyy much that shit in a nut shell. Why do people even watch useless bullshit TV. Some sort of weird escape from their anti fuckable life. Well madam ill tell ya. We will look at the grotto an make sure the Mormon missionaries are set. Make sure they receive the olive gelato. Pretentious. Bagno please. I need the bagno. Donatello, Michalangelo, Leonardo, Di Vinci. Bonatali. Boleli, take his class nad listen to his podcast. Italian god. You better read this. Fabrizio pancho, de alota de amano. Pizza ria de tortalini. Manga de raza zi polietzi. De Amo. Mi Amor! Zan Ziapani de arocho van sanda. Erazante mi panje poletzi. Handia pangi mi te rando. Motive de ferari y ni panjata. Mezantanti de jelisisio beranche. Zentatzi bor fin a mani. Slavinsanto de futbol gelato y parrizi. Pope de manga tutzi. So in conclusion, I hope the sad soul that waisted their last 45 minutes of their life like me watching this estatic film of all films. This is now a Hitler mystery show. Hitler is quite a crazy personality. Although he is known as a loca he is still, Restorante De emma. All of these typographic choloas be making shit all wrong. A dramatic escape for a 50 year

old worman seems to be. Englasi Enrique de englasia is a glasi. Dove Chocolates. Gerabali de gratizi aribaderchi ariba. De dontatella nudeste modela. Girabalid mi amor de antze de rocha. 368 watch your self/. There are no attractive women in tis show. $ for bere. eUV here and now. Making old omen shovel shit is fantastic. SO attractive fuck the gypsy bitch. Fucking Romanian poon. No more headbands. That doesn’t mean you can read my mind or take my money. If Trying to look all important. And Futuristic. Borat gypsiy. Always begging form oney and dick. Why is that even a fashion. Jut put some clothes that fit and don’t dangle like fantangle. I NY. Gypsy bitches always be instigating shit. Eithermoney or drama. The ho be on tv. Anyone remember sexual chocolate the WWF wrestler. Ready for the ho train or D generation X. Suck it bitch. Classy childhood charecters sorta lke Arnold swart zi negga in jingle all the way or true lies or commando (my fav) either or, just take some wieder protein and get swoleness. UAV Fuck themla a Louis. I watched it hung over before some bitchmade me watch it. Worst shit ever, Id rather thwow up that look ta that horrible cinema,. Maritzio pizaria. Lunchable pizza worst thing to ever reat. Bagged pizza sauxe what the fuck is Obama thinking. Samew with tavo bell lunch able. Bagged taco sauce sounds like jesus packed in a little suculed bag wrapped in goodness and savour saintly ness. Spirit of santé. 593 Look TR THE SHORE/ SO BUTEFUL. I DON’T FIND ANY BEAUTY IN THAT. ONLY fabrizio chingaputa chang0 . Prastonio policio. Gratzi. Who has HW to do? Don giovianni de rancido el poncato e ham sandwich. Jaomon. Gypsy is back again rocking a bit different head band, A sfifferent shad eof orancege . same with the mid adge bitch with the pink shiet all cute and shit. I hope you dotturn out like that. Im talking to all you superficial sorority tail.alpha omega jango. Flip it./ 679 Btich ant one. Jump bitch this show would get a; seazuy if you jamyped. Instead of just being a mid age mid. Old man is dead. Fake ass people taking shots of Fuck vince. Asshole. Nevermind hes nice I think. Lets see if he brings a thing of gelatio deo nalto. Mo

MUSIC

Union Weekly—6 May 2013

Second Time’s the Charm Covers that are better than the original

Lindsey Stirling and Pentatonix “Radioactive”

The Goops “Build Me Up Buttercup”

Biz Markie “Benny and the Jets”

Faye Wong “Dreams”

Sierra Patheal Assistant Editor, Queen

Michael Wood Opinions Editor, Lil’ Mamacita

Connor O’Brien Entertainment Editor, Squat-Ass

John Villanueva Music Editor, Bing Bong

Adding a cello spices up even the dullest of songs. Glee and 2 cellos proved it with MJ’s “Smooth Criminal,” and Lindsey Stirling and Pentatonix take it to the next level with Imagine Dragons’ “Radioactive.” The Imagine Dragons’ music video is awesome—I love the idea of Care Bears fighting to the death—but the song itself can get repetitive. In the cover, Lindsey’s violin and Kevin’s cello are just as prominent as the vocals, and they add a whole different strand of meaning to the song. Every time I hear Imagine Dragons’ version, I have to go listen to the cover—which, considering how often it’s been playing lately, means I’ve heard this song a lot. Amazingly, I’m still not tired of it.

“Build Me Up Buttercup” in its original form by The Foundations is absolutely filled with that classic Motown sound. Smooth, yet catchy, and driving with tons of energy, it embodies the soul sound of that time. But what can improve on that? Maybe the only type of music that embodies those qualities just as much as Motown, girl punk. I discovered this classic track by The Goops during an otherwise culturally vacant hour and a half where I sat down and watched Kevin Smith’s Mallrats. It’s rare to see a cover of an already great song, done in such a straightforward manner, that still makes for a better song than the original. But god damnit, when you’ve got the style of The Goops, you’ll make it happen.

I know everybody loves Elton John, but he’s got so many hits, they can’t all be the best versions of the songs. Biz Markie’s cover of “Bennie and the Jets” is better than the original. Biz makes this song his own. He sang this when he appeared on Chris Rock’s show . When he sings, his eyes roll back into his head, putting real effort into the song, not sitting on a piano made of gold, wearing purple oversized sunglasses, and farting out verse after verse. His voice cracks, but it shows that he is human, and humans are cool, y’know? By the end of the song, body twerking and convulsing, he screeches falsetto “Bennie’s. He is the bomb, he was in Men in Black II.

I love The Cranberries enough as it is. Sometimes though, there are covers that are capable of completely blowing away the original. This is one of those. First off, it’s in Chinese. I have no grasp of the Chinese language. Also, the song has the exact same instrumentals as the original. It’s basically the same song with Chinese in it. Really the only reason I like it is because there’s a YouTube video of a Chinese guy yelling “Holy Shit” while looking at a car on fire while listening to this Chinese version. His remedy to witnessing the terror of destruction and carnage...to turn the music up louder. So really, I only like the song because there’s a video of a Chinese guy freaking out while listening to this.

Social Distortion “Don’t Think Twice”

Lauryn Hill

Robert Glasper “Smells Like Teen Spirit”

John Lennon “Stand by Me”

Michael Wood Opinions Editor

Vincent Chavez Editor-in-Chief, Hunty

John Villanueva Music Editor

Gabe Ferriera Art Director, Deltrese

Ah, there’s nothing better in this world than a folksy ballad about failed love. Actually, I can think of about a dozen things better than that, including cheesy bread, hookah, and Steve Buscemi’s face. But anyway, that doesn’t detract from Social Distortion’s kickass rockabilly style cover of Bob Dylan. Tired of simple chord progressions, with heartfelt lyrics? Well then let Social Distortion throw in some good ol’ fashioned punk energy with the rockabilly stylings of Mike Ness’ guitar playing and watch this boring song take on new life. The lyrics are universal but not with some proto-hipster guitar accompaniment. I don’t hate Bob Dylan, but Social Distortion made this song listenable by adding some true energy and style to the tune. Thanks Social D!

I don’t care how much you love Frankie Valli and the Four Season’s original version; Miss Lauryn Hill changed the game with this song. Her cover trades in horns and strings for funky beatboxing and doo-wop style back-up vocals. The difference is a perfect balance of old and new styles. Hill manages to be both hip and soulful, funky and fresh, retro and modern. And that chorus. Hill calmly belts it and effortlessly commands you to love her, and you do because you are only human.

Since this is my last issue of The Union Weekly, I’m going to say it, I fucking hate Nirvana. However, Robert Glasper’s version of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is not only bearable but far surpasses (at least in my opinion) the original. Soothing the roaring energy of the original, this jazz cover includes everything you need to make a song great. Fantastic piano playing, Chris Dave and his offtime percussive madness, and Casey Benjamin on a vocoder. What isn’t made immediately cool by a vocoder? I know most of you will not agree with this, but you didn’t write anything, so boo-hoo. Also, I hate dubstep. If a butt could poop butts, the pooped butt’s poop would be the equivalent of dubstep. That is all.

I usually despise artists and musicians that build a career on someone else’s creation, but every now and then I come across a song, painting, or design so majestic that it transcends the need for creativity. Such was the case with “Stand By Me,” a song I thought to be written by John Lennon up until four or five months ago. “Hey, have you seen that video in which people from all over the world sing John Lennon’s ‘Stand By Me?’” I asked. My friend, a music knowit-all, was deeply offended by the argument, and replied: “I just hate people who still don’t know that Ben E. King wrote that.” Her aggressiveness didn’t change much: John Lennon’s cover is still much better. Go listen to it, it will bring happiness to your day.

Union Weekly—6 May 2013

CULTURE

It’s Tee Time Clever, creative, crafty t-shirt websites Vincent Chavez Editor-in-Chief, Princess Photos by Connor O’Brien Photo Editor, Chill Bro Dawg

Tee Fury

The Yetee

Redbubble

I have only clicked on one Facebook ad in my entire virtual life. The ad was for a cheap, limited-edition Adventure Time t-shirt from a website I’d never heard of called TeeFury and I knew instantly that I had to have it. What I didn’t know was that this seemingly harmless mouse click would open a gateway to an online t-shirt shopping addiction. Custom made, nerd-themed shirts involve the cross section of three of my favorite things: art, geek culture, and fashion. Okay, I don’t really care about fashion, but with nerd shirts I’ve begun to take pride in what I put on my torso. In my search for cool tees, I have come across a whole bunch of sites. My favorite sites often have a geek bend; I am a sucker for a well-designed mash-up (for the unfamiliar, this is when a design combines two pop culture properties together). Here’s a selection of the three most unbearably awesome t-shirt sites the interwebs has to offer.

Their slogan is, “Tee today, gone tomorrow,” and, by golly, do they mean it. TeeFury spotlights a custom designed geekthemed t-shirt every 24 hours and then forces you to decide whether you want to spend your money on a slick tee or lunch. Thankfully, their prices are quite reasonable at $14 a pop, and they also have an After Hours feature, which gives you a second chance to purchase the tee from the previous day. The site has a relatively basic set-up. The t-shirt of the day is prominently displayed in the center of the homepage, underneath is a scrolling comments section, and contained in the sidebar is a description of the tee’s artist, which includes a charming Q&A and a handful of the artist’s other designs. The comment section acts as a popularity barometer with users often jizzing over the artist’s tee of the day as much as their sidebar art. Also, the community griped so strongly over the lack of color options that TeeFury recently expanded them. Now you can choose a shirt in up to three different shades. That, my friends, is the definition of progress.

The Yetee offers their dorktastic designs for the same low price as their TeeFury competitors. But while TeeFury prides itself on its bare bones site, Yetee’s includes a store called Yetee Mart where you can purchase a small assortment of popular shirts, as well as other little knick-knacks like mugs and stickers. These shirts have no time limits attached to them, but you’ll have to pay an extra six bucks, totaling $17 before shipping. Yetee also uses models that look like they’d actually wear the shirts they’re advertising. This is a nice touch as I’m less enthused to buy a shirt depicting a Ghostbusters/Mario Bros mash-up from a dude that looks like a frat-boy version of Thor. Also, their mascot, an adorable cartoon Yeti, is ten times cooler than TeeFury’s basic-ass, clipart-looking bird thing. So cool in fact that the site sells merch with the fictional/handsome devil emblazoned on it.

Redbubble is technically the odd man out on this list of sleek and geeky t-shirt websites. For one, the site doesn’t specialize in geeky apparel; it’s more of a general art marketplace. And two, forget about those pesky time limits because Redbubble has no restrictions on how long it offers its wares. This means artists are able to post their entire portfolio on the site and you can browse without the pressure of making an impulse buy. Redbubble also has a much broader scope of products. Any design on the site can be transferred to a shirt, framed print, iPhone case, or hoodie. But what’s the catch, you ask? The price. Without shipping, you’re looking at a price tag of $25 for a tee. You don’t even want to know how much a hoodie is going to set you back. Therefore, I can only recommend Redbubble for its massive catalogue of designs; it’s perfect for bagging the one design that got away. Unless you’re Richie Rich, if so you can purchase tees and hoodies to your heart’s content and wear them inside the McDonalds housed in your cold, empty mansion while you eat McFlurry’s alone, ya rich bitch.

Heat Up, Strip Down

Only a week of wretched finals left and we’ll all be free of the bonds of academia (unless you’re in summer school, and if you are, my condolences). Knowing our bouts with global warming, it’s going to be blistering hot, so it’s time to take full advantage of this weather by adding these pieces to your everyday style! High-waisted shorts: Ladies, if you haven’t discovered the wonders that highwaisted shorts can do for your body, then you’re really missing out. It compliments every body type whether hour-glassed, pear-shaped, or anything in between. They also give the illusion of being long-legged. You can dress them down by pairing it with a white V-neck or some sort of statement T-shirt, or dress them up by wearing a button up. You can wear a belt to emphasize your waistline, which also adds some color blocking to your outfit. Hats: Now is the time to take full advantage of these. Not only do they spruce up your outfits, but they all serve

a very specific purpose—protecting you from all those UV rays that it is! You can try on some fedoras for that easy breezy Cali feel, pair floppy hats with maxi or sundresses for a more glamorous look, or boater hats to top off a preppy outfit. Add some sunblock (at least SPF 30 is recommended) and some wide-brimmed sunglasses, and you’re good to go! P.S. Despite how hot it is, please don’t go wearing those hats with the strings tied around your neck that make you look like a tourist. They’re just plain ugly. Sundresses: The main reason I love summer is that it gives you an excuse to wear sundresses. Whether it’d be floral print, spaghetti strapped, sweetheart tubeshaped, lace or ruffled, sundresses add a femininity that just doesn’t compare to the clothing of any other season! You want a material that lets your skin breathe, such as cotton. It could be long, short and flirty, have an A line (those that flare to the back and make for great movement with the

wind), have solid colors, or a bold print. These go really well with a pair of wedges, and feel free to add some personal style with a bunch of accessories. Rompers: Talk about convenience! No need for trying to mix and match pieces because this one-piece wonder solves all those problems. Just slip it in and you’re ready to get out the door. You can also cinch it with a belt to emphasize your waistline. These are a bit tricky to shop for, because it all depends on how it would fit your body. Make sure to find one that is appropriate for your height because if the romper’s too short, it’ll cause some camel toe… and you don’t want that. This is a good tip especially if you shop at Forever 21 (whose dresses seem to get shorter and shorter by the minute). People there seem to have forgotten that there are girls taller than five feet. You can also dress these up by pairing them with a blazer, or add a bohemian flare by adding some gold and bronze accessories and gladiator sandals.

Summer fashion essentials for classy (and/or sassy) ladies

Alia Sabino Assistant Editor, Cutie Pie

Volume 72 Issue 14

Monday, May 6, 2013

LBUNION.COM

DISCLAIMER: I thought it would be funny to tell anyone who reads this portion the real identity of the Duchess of Spain, but my lawyer told me not to. I’m going to do it is my last semester. I used the Grunion as an opportunity to practice my Spanish. Arriba! I’m just kidding. That’s not my name. I made that one up. Guess who I am and win a prize! This page is satire and I do not represent ASI nor the CSULB campus. Send in your thoughts via email to grunion@lbunion.com.

It has been almost a year since I purchased the Grunion and became your Duchie, your Duchess of Touches, and idol to the piss-drenched masses, but my time has come. I’m being called back as my planet is in peril. Oh, you didn’t know I was an alien? Well I am. Here: I drew a picture of myself as an alien. On my planet the race is like the Namekians from Dragon Ball Z, except we kiss our boy

up a baby out of our jellybean-sized anuses. As my last act as the human owner, I shall allow the squat-assed, dirty people of this campus to choose who will be my spiritual and physical successor for the next year. Below are your choices. Vote on the UNION WEEKLY facebook page ( w w w. f a c e b o o k . c o m / UnionWeekly). I love messing with them. Gonna miss it.

by The Duchess

Vote Michael Mcdonald

Vote Krinkle Krunkle

Vote God Warrior

Hello ya’ll. Ya’ll are being introduced to the

Krinkle Krunkle here. You may have seen some of my work in the Grunion. I was in charge of

I WILL become the new Grunion Editor because YES, YEES, this entire page is darksided. And the Duchess is darksided

real. In these ever changing times, with the transition from Old Union Weekly to new Union Weekly, I would like to nominate myself ooooohhhh yeah as new Grunion editor. That Duchess was a terrible editor, a midnight rider, and she doesn’t deserve to even shine my ghost shoes. I’m a much better writer, and I’m a ghost. I’m takin’ it to the streets, writing what’s on my mind and what gets caught in my majestic beard. While the Duchess was a distant lover and I was made to love her, she could never measure up to my skills and capabilitiessss (sung in vibrato). Ain’t no mountain high enough for me. I’m writing masterpieces minute by minute. Even the Duchess would second that emotion. I know that last sentence doesn’t make no sense, but I keep forgettin’ proper grammar usage. I don’t care, I’ll capture my readers with a love t.k.o by writing matters of the heart. So forget the Duchess, I’ll be your angel.

Chief of nipple-tip wrankles/booboo butter comptroller. I had to look at duchie’s saggy areolas for days. I don’t even want to talk about her booboo butter. Everything associated with her booboo is mangy as hell. She was the worst. And she never dies! I stuck that pooter in some tupperware and plopped her in her pool. The next morning, she was soggy, but still alive. I poured her out and she started gurgling orders at me. I would be such a great replacement for Duch. She don’t even have no kneecaps. I think I saw one rolling around her socks. That gave me the hibby-jibbies. If I am chosen to be the new Grun editor, I will publish articles based only on what start a sentence in the search bar: “Pure pube burgers” or “Butt-chugging pork pies.” You can’t deny the quality of that. You guys know you want to read all about this.

It’s ungodly. DARKSIDED. In Jesus’ name I pray. I won’t talk about astrology, I won’t do no tarot cards, I will take a stand. I have all of you in my prayers, and what I’ve been saying and preachin’ an’ prayin’ is that I won’t be taking some UNGODLY person running this here Grunion page. With

I pray. But if you believe in Jesus you can stay on this page. I rebuke this page in the name of the Lord. The Duchess. Have you asked her if she was a Christian? SHE’S DARKSIDED TOO. She’s really into zoology. I’ll throw her in a pit. I was in a pit. So I be the God warrior. I’ll get rid of that gargoyle, the Duchess of Spain. Don’t get it twisted. I will be the new Editor-in-Chief of the Grunion. Preach.

Vote Penny Proud Penny Proud here, y’all. Hip hop helicopter, am I right? has decided to endorse this page with Proud Snax. This goin’ be a funky page, Zooey gonna do all the silly things that only an awkward white girl does like collect lint. We don’t really like her, but we need a token white person on the start up a Black Eyed Peas tribute band with LaCieniga’s grandpa, Papi, and those peanut kids from that fulllength movie that we did (you know the George Washington Carver one). That’s gonna put the Grunion on the market. Did you know that Destiny’s Child did our theme song? That’s another reason to vote for me. But really, think back to that episode where we jammed to “Peanut Butter Jelly Time.” Think about it. I mean, no offensie to the Duchess, but I don’t think she can really cut a rug when compared to Penny Proud. Whatever. Y’all should vote for me.