BACKPAGE
Oct
13 2011
8
PAGE
SOMEONE IS ACTUALLY READING THE PIO!?
T
oday a female student was spotted with an issue of the Whitman Pioneer, the local campus newspaper. She was tall, with brown hair and blue eyes, and in her hands and before her eyes was a large piece of paper that is rumored to have had a banner reading “The Pioneer.” The girl was interviewed, and her name was determined
to be Hailey Bergner, and her interview made it into the paper that she was reading. “I want to know what’s going on on campus on a week-to-week basis, I think,” she said. “That must be why I picked it up.” The color scheme seemed to be blue and orange, with the color photography and illustrations on the front
page as well as other pages. However, most of the colors of the paper were black and white. This includes the black and white words throughout and even some black and white illustrations and photography. Editor-in-Chief Patricia Vanderbilt was both shocked and awed at the news of this odd and spectacular occurrence.
“This might mean that might get more bids advertising,” she said. An extensive survey was taken across a wide spectrum of Pioneer readers named Hailey Bergner and the results concluded that she was only reading the Backpage. To this, Humor Editor Adam Brayton responded by guffawing we for
and rejoicing. In a public statement to his fellow editors, he said, “In y’all’s faces!” Other uses of the paper that don’t involve reading it include toilet paper, sweet hats, napkins, substrates for peeling potatoes and school-paper bras. The staff of The Pioneer staff assumes that this is what people must do with the paper.
brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick No Wednesday or Friday classes—can anyone say 6-day? brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick On jet plane to Costa Rica! brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Morning martinis in Monteverde. brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Drunkard monkeys trying to steal my drank. Anybody remember that Dane Cook bit about fighting a monkey? Living the dream. brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Ziplining through the trees! Do I see a quetzal? brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Hot tubbin’ in the Arenal hot springs. Bet I got that native girl pregnant . . . hahahaha brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick On the coast surfing, riding a tidal wave of whiskey on a surfboard made of don’t give a shit. NBD. brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Heli’d out of C.R. On my way to L.A., suckas! brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick At Avett Brothers concert! Scoping out that fine lady you really like. brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick That 3-way I had with that girl and her friend was awesome. brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Just found out West Hollywood is totes gay. Is there an East Hollywood rofl? brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Smokin’ blunts with my main man Snoop Dogg! brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Rollin’ with some homies through Compton like it ain’t no thang. Hello, black people! brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Off to Bend. Crashing at uncle’s mansion! brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Mansion—>rafting—>hooking up with cute girl from rafting trip—>hiking in beautiful country with spectacular girl—>pub time! brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Enjoying a tall pint of Black Butte Porter. This one’s to friends at school studying. brozb4hoz69 Chip Chadwick Back on campus! Stoked I didn’t actually have work to do over 4-day. Whaaat.
ILLUSTRATION BY BOWEN
Bad to the Bone: Dining hall drinking game
Complaining about Bon Appétit (or as they call it at Lewis and Clark, “The Bone”) is an age-old pastime at Whitman, going back many, many centuries. But what people need to realize is that it’s all old hat. How do we make it new hat? Make a drinking game out of it, duh. Very simple rules: If the following happens at the Bone, drink. If you want to add more rules, go for it. Here they are. • Every time the milk machine is out of milk. DRINK. • Every time the Jewett salad bar runs out of salad things before you get there. DRINK. • Grilled Cheese Monday. DRINK. • Every time someone complains about Prentiss being too vegetarian. DRINK. • Can’t find a seat at brunch. DRINK. • You want to sit at a booth with a buddy, but it’s just him and his girlfriend. DRINK. • You just want a fork, but people won’t move. DRINK. • You finally get there . . . no forks. DRINK. • Dessert is gone when you come back for it. DRINK. • When Jewett finally gets its soft serve back. SHOTGUN. • When someone finally notices that the “Eat Local Challenge” is a total sham. SHOTGUN BAILEY’S.
Comic by Jung Song
FLAG FOOTBALL FEMME FATALE
H
EY. I didn’t get an invite by one of your paper’s fancy-schmancy Sports Profiles, but I don’t need any of that shizz. I play on one of the BAMFest female flag football teams here at Whitman, the Librarians of Laceration. For the record, I’m wearing my mudand-blood-stained flag football jersey, some pink shorts and a scarf. Sort of going for the quietly deadly vibe. First off, let me just say that the last game? LAME. We totes slaughtered those Ribbon Crushers 52-8. RIDONKULOUS. I mean, they did get eight points (even though that last point was when the quarterback’s severed arm, still holding the football, happened to fly into the end zone during a particularly brutal play), but still. It’s EMBARRASSING. Anywhooz. We all get pretty beat up playing flag football; I mean, it’s all PART OF THE GAME. Some nerds might think that flag football is less of a contact sport than real football. WELL, THEY’RE WRONG.
Flag football is responsible for like 90 percent of my physical imperfections. I mean, dude, my right elbow bends both ways now. I have a flippin’ TORN NOSTRIL. I got a bruise on my thigh THE EXACT SIZE AND SHAPE OF THE STATE OF TEXAS, give or take ten square miles. Baby got the thunder thighs. I’ve also got a scar on my right shoulder that I affectionately call “Nessie.” And, boy, do I like to show off my battle scars. I dress every morning based on which injury I wanna flaunt. Nostril? Highlighted by nose ring. Texas bruise? Running shorts. Nessie? Muscle shirt. I thrive on disgusted shrieks from total wimps who can’t stand the sight of a festering wound. Pathetic. They just don’t understand: it’s about the game, it’s about being with your gurls and giving 110 percent, one day at a time, it’s about—THIS ARTICLE HAS BEEN CUT OFF RIGHT HERE FOR OVERUSE OF SPORTS CLICHÉS. WE APOLOGIZE FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE.
ADVERTISEMENT