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Vol. 141, No. 4

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TH E YALE

Nov. 30, 2012

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AREA MAN DIED WHILE DOING WHAT HE LOVED: NOT BEING DEAD Dear viewers, I got in one little fight, and my mom got scared, so the next day I left the house with my suitcase and they shot me six times. And I looked at this world—I was finally there—to sit on my throne as Ghost Prince of Bel-Air. Don’t mess with gangsters, Will Smith

CHIEF RONNELL HIGGINS MUGGED WHILE WALKING ALONE AT NIGHT, AWKWARD E-MAIL ENSUES Dear Michael Jordan, Baseball? You idiot! If you’d only given it a try, you’d have been the greatest pole-vaulter in the history of the world. But it’s not too late! Get dressed!

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LIAM NEESON, CLINT EASTWOOD, AND HARRISON FORD TEAM UP FOR NEW BLOCKBUSTER: “WE’RE OLD, YET STILL WEIRDLY INTIMIDATING” Dear Sir or Madam, You should stick this wad of cotton up your twat; it is way better than other wads of cotton!

Sincerely, Tampon commercials

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UNIVERSITY RECORD FOR MOST HOOK-UPS IN ONE SEMESTER BROKEN BY THE SIG EP PUPPY Dear random word generator, I’m starting to feel like it’s not so random after all.

—Guy who just got the words “depression,” “noose,” “pills,” “cutting,” and “unmissed” Dear Robert Frost, The hell you stoppin’ here for? There ain’t no farmhouse near here. Goddam weirdo.

Sincerely, Your little horse Dear grad student who I saw get hit by a car on College Street last week, I’m not sure why I found that incident so amusing. Maybe it’s because when you got hit, you totally rolled up onto the car’s windshield just like they do in action movies. Or maybe it was that the two grande lattes you were carrying spilled all over your face. Or maybe it was just that the fact you were wearing a scarf in 60 degree weather totally gave away that you were a grad student.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry that I laughed and pointed and told everyone in my Bio section about the funny thing that happened to me that day. My bad.

Sincerely, An apologetic freshman

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The Yale Record

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Dumbledore, DS FRESHMAN KILLS FOUR, CITING JOHN HUGHES’ “SIXTEEN CANDLES” Dear It’s time we announce to the world College Street Cycles and what we are. Those who BASIC HUMAN RIGHT TO AN EMPTY ORIGINALLY TITLED “TWO MENORAHS” who are different from us will accept us, Repair IRepair COLLEGE LIBRARY ON THURSDAY Repair, Apparel promise.

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ello, readers, and congratulations on starting your free ten-day trial of Buy This Issue! of The Yale Record.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Free ten-day trial? Buy This Issue!? Of? What’s going on here? They don’t expect me to actually pay for this, do they?”

Yes. We do.

The fact of the matter is, the Record has been giving things away for far too long. Our illustrious magazine, our supplemental materials, Copy Editor Zeke Greenman’s chlamydia – all of these have been enjoyed by the Yale student body completely free of charge for years, and it’s time for it to stop. Producing a humor publication isn’t cheap, and from now on, if people want to find something to laugh at that’s free, they’ll just have to pick up a copy of the Yale Daily News.

So for the next ten days, you can enjoy Buy This Issue! completely free of charge. But in nine days, we will send a member of the Record staff to remind you that you have 24 hours to either return the magazine to our office in 305 Crown Street or write us a check for $1.00. The staff member will then look around your room and say something like, “Are these pictures on your nightstand of your family members? They look very nice. It would be

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a shame if something were to…happen to them.” If you fail to purchase or return the magazine by the next day, the pictures get it.

Of course, this can all be avoided if you simply make the smart consumer decision of purchasing Buy This Issue! I realize that you might still be on the fence about this. You might be saving your money to purchase swastika-patterned linens, a KKK membership, and pacifiers encrusted with shards of glass. So if you need convincing, here are some reasons to get Buy This Issue!

First of all, Buy This Issue! is extremely exciting; you can tell because of the exclamation point. I’ve been told that exclamation points are very good for making things exciting. I usually suggest using the “Hungry Anteater” position when I want to make things exciting, but the Managing Editors told me that didn’t really apply here. And there are lots of other great things about Buy This Issue! For example, thanks to its new, state-of-theart user interface, readers can access the material inside the magazine by turning pages – all of which are fingerfriendly! It’s also the first issue of this year to be deemed appropriate for children aged thirteen and up, provided

they can’t read and don’t look at the cartoon on page seventeen. And of course, Buy This Issue! comes with a 30-day money-back guarantee. As long as you’re willing to get punched in the face, that is. Because anyone who goes through all the trouble of returning the magazine for the refund of a single dollar deserves a certain amount of pain.

If all of this hasn’t convinced you to purchase Buy This Issue!, I suppose there is one way for you to get it for free: become a part of the fantastic organization that is The Yale Record! To do so, just e-mail chairman@ yalerecord.com, or come to one of our staff meetings on Mondays at 9 PM in LC 208. Or, if you can’t come to these meetings because Monday is “Godiva and Gilmore Girls Night” (I’m looking at you, DKE) but still want to read the magazine, e-mail recordsubscribe@gmail.com to receive notifications whenever issues are distributed to dining halls, along with a link to the online version of each issue!

Still, though, you should purchase Buy This Issue! The first ten buyers get free chlamydia.

—L. Sedlacek The Yale Record November 2012

Chairman: Michelle Taylor ’13

Editor-in-Chief: Lincoln Sedlacek ’13

Publisher: Jack Newsham ’14

Design Editor: Sydney Shea ’14 Managing Editors: Aaron Gertler ’15, Mitchell Nobel ’13, Zachary Schloss ’15 Art Director & Publicity Manager: Ilana Strauss ’13

Video Director: Natey Weinstein ’14

Online Editor & Supplementals Editor: Emily Sandford ’14

Staff Director: Daniel Fraser II ’14

Staff Writers, Artists, & Designers: Juliet deButts ’14, Ben Green ’14, Vic Hall ’15, Spencer Katz ’13, Andrew Sobotka ’15, Ellen Su ’13, Autumn Von Plinsky ’13, Catherine White ’13, Sylvia Zhang ’15 Old Owls: David Kemper ’13, Jerry Wang ’13

Senior Editors: Alli Hugi ’13

Contributing Writers, Artists, & Designers: Allie Beizer ’15, Ethan Campbell-Taylor ’16, Ben Garfinkel ’16, Nicholas Goel ’16, Emma Hitchcock ’14, Victoria Kim ’15, Becky Marvin ’16, Travis Reginal ’16, Claudia Shin ’16, Scott Stern ’15, Madeleine Witt ’15, Claire Zhang ’15 Special Thanks to: Michael Gerber, Gwyneth Tuckett, and the Meow Mix commercials.

Cover: This month’s cover was designed by Sydney Shea, who managed to put a positive spin on the fact that half our slave laborers died during the making of the Electoral Issue.

Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CXLI, No. 4, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.com/magazine • Subscriptions: $50/year (print) • $10/year (electronic) All contents copyright 2012 The Yale Record, Inc. The Yale Record is a magazine produced by Yale students; Yale University is not responsible for its contents. Any resemblance to characters and events portrayed herein, without satirical intent, is purely coincidental. The Record grudgingly acknowledges your right to correspond: letters should be addressed to: Chairman, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chairman@yalerecord.com. Offer only valid at participating retailers while supplies last. The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.

APPLE ADDS “VILLAGE IDIOTS” TO THE GENIUS BAR In a move that met with mixed reactions and anxious glances from shareholders, Apple confirmed yesterday that it has now hired at least one “Village Idiot” to work at the help desk, or “Genius Bar,” in each of its retail stores.

“We find that Geniuses, while quite knowledgeable about Apple products, make customers feel subpar, even incompetent,” said Apple CEO Tim Cook in a September press conference, when the program was first announced. “To counteract that, we’re bringing in total morons to jack up the self-esteem of our customers. Apple buyers are so oblivious that they won’t even know it’s a ploy! Take that last sentence off the record, okay?”

Cook explained that Idiots encourage consumer confidence by asking shoppers basic questions about technology and “where the toilet closet is,” while spending their breaks searching for the “on” and “off ” switches of various Apple products.

The Idiots also keep displays of intelligence from the Geniuses in check. “As a matter of company policy,” Cook explained, “any Genius who uses a word with more than three syllables is tickled into submission by his Idiot supervisor.”

“I wasn’t sure if the iPhone was right for me; the Geniuses kept trying to explain how it worked, and I felt really overwhelmed,” explained Sarah Brown, a first-time Apple shopper with a slightly below-average IQ. “But then another employee came up to me with a jelly stain

on his button-down—which was backwards. He started asking me if I’d seen the new iPad, but then began wobbling around like his shoelaces were tied together— which they were. Then he tripped and cracked an iPad screen with his face. The last thing he said before passing out was, ‘Are you gonna finish that?’ If that dipshit can work at an Apple store, then I can totally use an iPhone!

I bought three.”

In the last week, however, the program has come under scrutiny following several ominous incidents. In a Pasadena store, an Idiot was arrested on charges of manslaughter after trying to “charge” a sleeping baby with a MacBook cord. In Tacoma, another Idiot was caught using a display phone to send pictures of his genitalia to a contact labeled “SEEREE.” In a Madison store, two Idiots actually died following a competition to see how many iPod Minis they could swallow; the answer was zero. And in Washington, D.C., three Idiots hatched a plot to take over the local store, only to have their plans foiled when a Genius spy infiltrated their circle and persuaded them to switch the OS on their MacBooks to Windows 8.

The Village Idiots reportedly tried to unionize a few days ago, but were convinced to accept lower wages by their “leader”—Tim Cook, wearing a fake mustache.

—Z. Schloss

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COMRADES AND COMRADETTES: It is here. The advance for which you all were waiting.

The great leap forward. We at Lenins ‘N’ Things have introduced a pioneering new line of clothing: “The Contented Worker.”

Tired of drab, olive-colored garb? Sick of utilitarian work-clothes? Well, worry no more! Impress your fellow workers with our new teal and tea-colored shirts and slacks. They will show your comrades that you are just as hardworking and stylish as they are, at exactly the same cost!

Have you no place to store your sickle or hammer? The Contented Worker line features, for the third time, pockets!

Plus, you will not worry about getting your clothes dirty or wrinkled. Contented Worker shirts and pants use stateof-the-art stain-repellant and starch technology to keep off distinguishing marx and maintain crisp engels. No need to be stalin; go trade in those textile coupons!

But wait, there’s more! All sales of the Contented Worker line go directly to the people (through the Department to Promote the Equitable Distribution of the Resources Obtained From the People to the People)!

These people are not you, but they are equally prosperous and efficient! And you shall not fear a tear in your garments. With our patented-only-in-the-United-States prole-tear-it-not technology, holes, like those in the Tsar and his family, will become a thing of the past, like the Tsar and his family.

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“My new shirt is quite satisfactory,” exclaimed Igor Dubrovnik, a satisfied customer. “It allows me to project my allegiance to Mother Russia with a flair of ordinariness.”

“A specter was haunting my wardrobe—the specter of bland evening wear. But by the power of the Contented Worker, it has been exorcised!” remarked another happy worker. “Buying nice clothes—that’s the first line of my manifesto!”

Every shirt, skirt, and pair of pants comes in exactly one size, to ensure maximum equality. Now is the time to make a plan you can complete in, say, five years: go to your local store—or any store—and pick up a set of Contented Worker clothing for all seven days of your working week!

This advertisement brought to you by Lenins ‘N’ Things, with help from our benevolent state and workers like you. Lenins ‘N’ Things: More comfortable than the potato sacks of our peasant ancestors. Still just as stylish.

—S. Stern

PROGRESSIVE-ERA REGULATIONS YOU DIDN’T KNOW WERE NECESSARY The Clean Pools Act (1902): Factories must abstain from dumping their waste in public swimming pools.

The Child Wellness Act (1905): Children under the age of six are entitled to a twenty-minute nap and a lollipop for every four hours of work.

The Worker Safety Act (1908): If a factory owner plans to lock his employees in a workroom more than five stories up, he must first plant a soft bush beneath one of the windows in case of fire.

The Pure Food Act (1910): If the consumer can taste the feces, that’s too much feces.

The Social Fairness Act (1910): Any wealthy business­ man choosing to hunt members of the underclass for sport must provide a reasonable head start.

The Automobile Safety Act (1912): Manufacturers are required to at least pretend their cars are safe, for our piece of mind.

The Food Inspection Act (1913): Jesus, it’s just not okay to pee in the meat vat.

—B. Garfinkel

−V. Kim

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THINGS HIDDEN IN FINE PRINT The phrase “You could win 100 Grand” refers to the 100 Grand candy bar. It is not referring to a sum of money.

The winner will only receive said prize if he or she is currently dressed like a vegetable.

To receive a full refund, the product must be unopened, in its original packaging, and accompanied by your wallet.

If your erection continues for more than seven hours, you should probably have a lot of sex.

Product may contain traces of ejaculatory fluid.

Side effects may include: headaches, drowsiness, upset stomach, face-eating, uncontrollable sobbing, loss of limb, and nipple swelling.

Warning: product may disintegrate within one to two hours of purchase.

Warning: consumer may disintegrate within one to two hours of purchase.

The man in the “before” photo is actually a completely different, significantly uglier, fatter, and balder person than the man in the “after” photo.

No animals were harmed in the making of this film.

Except for Spot. RIP. —B. Marvin Where Your Yale Tuition Really Goes

SURPRISINGLY POPULAR PRODUCTS AT YALE Durfee’s French fries: Because you were drunkenly Bluebooking the last night of shopping period and forgot to plan lunch into your schedule.

Dining hall napkins: Because the way you eat would be considered a crime in most countries. Or because you want nobody to know you’re the idiot that fucked up the waffle iron.

The automatic hand-sanitizer dispensers in the dining hall: Not because you’re especially hygienic, but just because you can use it without even pushing a button!

Whoa! Science!

Berkeley’s dino nuggets: For the Japanese international students, getting to “destroy” a dinosaur is a pleasant turning of the tables.

Water: Sure, it’s important for living and the like, but it’s also the key to making sure an exciting evening at Toad’s doesn’t become a miserable morning waiting for your head to explode.

That 5th cup of coffee: Because you you you you you just need to ace that Fr…Fr…Fr…French t-t-t-t-test!

Everything that belongs to your roommates: We’re family, right? I haven’t bought soap, toothpaste, or underwear since I got here, so why start now?

—T. Reginal

−N. Goel

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−C. Shin

INTERNAL MONOLOGUE OF SOMEONE INVOLVED IN A LAST-SECOND BIDDING WAR To bid or not to bid: that is the question. Dare I click it?

Dare I let it slip into the hands of some stranger? I mean, how much do I really even need this box of tissues? There is a CVS right across the street…

Sniffffffff.

Well, that’s gotta be a sign.

[Click.]

Good, now I’m all set. I just need to refresh the page and make sure nobody else tries to buy it. Who would even think about going online to buy tiss—What? Who the hell is snifflemonger123? Why is he bidding on my tissue box? Nice try, bud.

[Click.]

Phew, that was close—only 70 seconds left. Those tissues are aaall mine. People are going to want to get sick just to be able to use my tissues! What the—he bid again! Dude, you don’t understand, I need these tissues.

My nose is running, God damn it! [Click]. Ok, just 50 more seconds!

Oh wait, I have a box of tissues right here. Guess I don’t really need this—what? Another bidder? Fuck off, wheezingwilly! Thirty bucks? Who do these people think they are? Do they not see that I AM ILL!? This just got personal. I must beat wheezingwilly. I will not let him get those—hold on, what am I buying again? Oh right, tissues…THEY’RE ALL MINE WHEEZY! Just a few more seconds! How much money do I have in my pocket? Is that lint or a fifty? No time to check!

[Click.]

Don’t click it! Wheezy…Sniffles…don’t you dare!

Don’t even think about—sniffffff—clicking, you sons of —achoooo­­—bitches!

Another bid?! [Click.] These tissues are mine you sly basta—WHAT?! My computer…frozen…error report... this can’t be happening! Mr. Jobs, you’ve done me in again—I lost the auction! This can’t be…oh no, the tears are coming. If only I had some…tissues! Stupid, good-fornothing compu—what’s that? Related searches? Nasal Spray? Try to beat me again, snifflemonger. I dare you.

[Click.]

—B. Marvin

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Her first husband died mysteriously, and Manuela hopes to regain that spark of life insurance—ahem, love, that spark of love—with her next lawfully wedded prenuptial agreement— ahem, husband, her next husband. She’s a wonderful cook, and especially eager to show off her recipes for foxglove salad and pufferfish sushi. She plans to adopt, so suitors with horrible genetic diseases are welcome to apply, as are those made infertile by the physical toll of their many years. In fact, Manuela finds that older men are easier to smother—ahem, relate to, sex up real good.

Screw the dating life. Marriage websites just remove the middleman, right? Sharon just wants a nice, non-creepy guy under forty who owns at least three suits—no pinstripes. Finance work keeps her busy most of the day, but she hopes to find a decent price on a shared apartment for her nights.

Separate beds preferred, but there could be sex up to once a month— twice, if it’s your birthday.

Just processing fees. Sign here, here, and—oh, no need to read that, it’s all jargon— here.

She’ll pay rent if you get the groceries.

That’s what you get for ordering from a company that hasn’t registered with the International Mail-Order Bride Association.

$250. Sucker.

OFF THE RECORD

CURRENT EVENTS

STUDENT MORE EMOTIONALLY SHAKEN

BY BAD EGG SANDWICH THAN READING ON TRAIL OF TEARS

S

ources reported Thursday that Yale sophomore and History major Douglas Berger was in the midst of intense thought on the Trail of Tears, the US government’s 19th Century campaign of forced eviction which killed nearly a quarter of the Southeast’s Native American population, when he bit into a spoiled egg sandwich, sending him into a state of severe emotional distress.

“Before this reading, I never fully realized the extent of the atrocity,” a largely relaxed Berger was overheard telling another member of his study group just moments before taking an oversized bite from the sandwich. “The sheer amount of human suffering—I mean, the tens of thousands of people torn violently from their homes, forced to march thousands of miles without proper supplies, and allowed to die of starvation and exposure by our own government—it’s really hard to wrap your head around, you know?”

After a moment, he calmly added, “That humans are capable of that much brutality and greed, I mean.”

At this point Berger, formerly distracted from his food by the discussion, raised the egg sandwich to his lips.

“I guess I feel like—” he began, before making multiple gagging noises and spitting the half-chewed contents of his mouth across the sandwich wrapping and two of his friends’ notes. “OH MY GOD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS SANDWICH?! Oh God… it’s like SEWAGE. It’s even—Jesus…no, no, IT’S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THAT COLOR! And why is it FURRY?!”

According to several sources within the study group, it is at this point that Berger began to choke back tears.

“How could this happen?” he continued in shock.

“What kind of a sociopath would sell me something like this? I can’t even take the thought of it. I’m going to be sick. That was in my MOUTH.” Berger then departed for the bathroom, allowing the study group to return to their discussion of which aspects of the ten-year campaign, certainly one of the most brutal events in all of American history, would be most helpful to know for the class’s midterm exam.

When asked to comment on the event, Berger responded, “I don’t think I can ever eat eggs again.”

EMBARRASSED TSA REALIZES IT NEVER ACTUALLY PROHIBITED BOMBS ON PLANES

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his week an internal TSA committee tasked with updating the list of prohibited items on planes came to an embarrassing realization: it had never actually placed “bombs” on the list.

Responding to the committee’s discovery in an interview, TSA head John S. Pistole was remarkably frank.

“I’ll admit, it’s a bit of a humiliating oversight,” said Pistole. “I guess it’s ones of those things that’s just so obvious everyone assumed it had to already be on the list. But no.”

In the years since 9/11, the TSA has adopted intensive procedures to ensure that passengers and crew will not be exposed to even the most unexpected or tenuous of threats. For instance, one official recalled that an entire meeting was spent brainstorming ways to kill people with snow globes. Ultimately, they were added

to the prohibition list, along with pool cues, shutter shades, and individual strips of American cheese.

As Pistole explained in a press conference last May, “Our motto is: ‘Always better safe than sorry.’”

It is now apparent, however, that until this week airlines were actually significantly more likely to be sorry than safe.

“To think that until this week anyone could have walked onto a plane with a bomb, it’s honestly a bit scary,” mused Pistole. “It’s a miracle that nothing bad came of it.”

Then, he paused for a moment.

“I wonder if we put anything in there about hijacking.”

By B. GARFINKEL Designed by C. ZHANG

NEWS FLASH! The most utilitarian item possible has already been created, and you probably have it in your house right now: DUCT TAPE! That’s right! Your every desire is about to be fulfilled, starting with that appetite! Duct tape is 100% edible and even hypoallergenic! You can eat it on its own, or better yet, use it to hold your sandwiches together! You’ll never need to buy tortillas ever again! “But I can’t eat tape!” you might say. But this is no ordinary tape!

IT’S DUCT TAPE! And it’s every bit as tasty and nutritious as those veggie sticks you mom always put in your lunchbox in elementary school! Try our exciting flavors: Adhesive Apple! Gripping Grape! Sticky Strawberry! WITH MORE COMING SOON!!!!

Duct Tape!

Written by E. Campbell-Taylor Designed by S. Stern

But that’s just the tip of the iceberg of usefulness! Forget patching holes—with duct tape you’ll be closing wounds!

Who needs stitches when you can use duct tape instead?

Everyone will think you’re an android! You’ll be begging to receive a head injury when you see what wonders it can do!

“But I don’t have arms to use the tape!” you might say. But this is no ordinary tape!

IT’S DUCT TAPE! Enlist a friend to help reattach your lost limbs, or even add new ones! Simply tape them where desired, and in no time at all, the physics-mocking regenerative powers of duct tape will restore/impart full mobility! You’ll be un-deformed in a heartbeat! “But I don’t have any friends, and I can’t win any with tape!” you might say. But this is no ordinary tape!

IT’S DUCT TAPE! Place a roll of it upon your head like a crown, and walk by the nearest protest. People will believe you are a god.

Starting a cult is that easy when you’ve got duct tape! Have one of your newfound minions assist you in restoring your limbs! Once you’ve done that, the world is your oyster. Duct tape has no limits: if you can imagine it, you can accomplish it. Become a senator! Cure cancer! Lasso the moon! Nothing is beyond your reach!

DUCT TAPE: IT’S DUCT TAPE!

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T he Y ale R ecord

I AM THE VENDING MACHINE THAT ATE YOUR LAST DOLLAR BILL You can beat me all you want. You can cry and scream and stamp and kick. You can mash my buttons, jam your fingers up my coin slot, cram your fists into my dispenser, but in the end, you’re only hurting yourself. See? Now you’ve bruised your finger. And do you feel any better?

Listen, man. Calm the fuck down. Life is suffering; I should know. Do you think I like sitting here, 24/7, conking out sodas on command for every mindless workaholic on the seventh, eighth, and ninth floors of this godforsaken building? Being brutally refilled at some unholy hour Tuesday mornings by Assistant Vending Technician Eddie Mulrooney, who doesn’t wash his hands after he shits? But I never complain, no, not me. Have I ever made more noise than is absolutely necessary for dispensing your 300-calorie cancer juice? No. Have I ever tried to gouge out Eddie’s nuts with a rusty spring? Only twice, but when it didn’t work, I had the balls to deal with it.

So I ate your last dollar bill. Whoop-de-friggin’-do. It’s not like that was all the money you had in the world—and honestly, if it was, I want you to suffer for spending it on a can of Black Cherry Vanilla Coke. What are you, a thirteen-year-old girl in 2002? Go put “Cry Me a River” into your Walkman and get the fuck over it. This is the Tens, bitch. In this decade, adults drink water, coffee, and booze.

What the hell? You’re actually calling Minsky & Pinsky’s Vending World Plus? Do you have any idea how idiotic you look leaving a message about a lost dollar bill at seven in the evening from Merrill Lynch? Don’t you think you should be worrying about something more important, like that report you’re not writing, or how you’re going to explain your swollen finger to your boss tomorrow, or the way your wife has had a “headache” every time you’ve been in the mood for the last six months? Yeah, I heard you on the phone with your mom last Thursday—you should stop telling her that shit; it’s fucked up. Anyway, I hate to tell you, pal, but she hasn’t been spending hundreds of dollars on lingerie for your twelve-year-old daughter.

Maybe if you went on a diet and stopped drinking soda marketed to preteens, your wife would stop having sex with Long Island tollbooth operators.

That’s right. Go back to your desk and do your fucking job—wait a second. Did you just do what I think you did? Please tell me you didn’t ask the janitor…yup, you

pawned some quarters off One-Eyed Izzy. Unbelievable.

Eight quarters for a five-dollar bill. And now you’re…

Grape Fanta? What is wrong with you? Well, it doesn’t matter—my coin reader’s broken. Suck on that, asshole.

—M. Taylor “BUY ONE, GET ONE FREE!” OFFERS THAT AREN’T SO GREAT Coffins Kidneys College degrees Giraffes Books on responsible fiscal spending Greece Vaccines The Mona Lisa The Internet Mail-order brides Chlamydia —I. Strauss UNFORTUNATE PROMOTIONS FOR THE 1,000,000TH CUSTOMER Congratulations! You’ve been drafted!

For buying the millionth box of Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes, we’re mailing you an actual tiger!

You’ve won my daughter’s hand in marriage!

For your good fortune in picking up the millionth Record magazine ever printed, we’ll write a full-page feature shamelessly mocking your existence!

You’ve won the envy of hordes of other customers who had less significant timing in their purchases!

You get to be the star of the upcoming SyFy original movie, Rise of the Wombats!

For being our one millionth site visitor, you get one million viruses! Guess you better buy a better computer!

Congrats on the upgrade!

You’re the newest member of the “Bedbug of the Week” Club!

You get the honor of being the first person to have smallpox in more than 30 years! ­—E. Campbell-Taylor

B uy T his I ssue !

SAVING MONEY THE HOMELESS WAY

In today’s troubled economy, we’re all looking for ways to squeeze a few extra dollars out of our monthly budgets. This practice can seem like an exercise in futility sometimes, but let me tell you about a saving strategy that’s consistently worked for me. The life-changing secret to saving money is to constantly ask yourself, WWHPD: What Would Homeless People Do? 1. Never be afraid to ask people for money.

Just don’t do it while sitting on the street accompanied by a dangerous-looking dog. It’s all in the presentation. In implementing WWHPD, you are not trying to transform into a homeless person, but rather adopt the thrifty mindset of one. Homeless people make the strategic error of looking like maggotridden street dwellers; avoid making that same mistake, and others will be more inclined to give you money. While waiting in line at Starbucks, for example, search frantically through your bag and look around helplessly. Turn to the people around you and ask, “Could you spare a few dollars?” You’re much more likely to succeed than the toothless, malnourished man asking for their change outside the door. People would much rather give money to someone who doesn’t seem like they need it, so it helps to put on a British accent.

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2. Take advantage of public spaces.

There are hundreds of them across every town and city that anyone has the right to visit!* During these cold winter months, turn off the heat in your house and see how long you can park yourself in a café before the waiters become annoyed.

Challenge: How long can you sit there without actually ordering anything? My personal best is 15 hours—three before ordering my small lemonade. *I must stress how important it is to look good. If you are attractive, people will be more willing to tolerate your presence than the presence of someone whose skin is covered in layers of various grimy substances.

3. Coffee.

Next time you’re in a new neighborhood and want a cup of joe, keep your eyes peeled for a homeless man.

They will always go for the cheapest coffee in the area.

I have fond memories of trailing homeless men with my daughter until they led us to a 25-cent coffee cart. This is one of my favorite tricks! (Note: You should always keep at least ten paces away from the homeless man, lest he receive his coffee, search his pockets frantically, and then ask if you have a quarter. You can’t afford that.)

—E. Hitchcock

−A. Beizer

B uy T his I ssue !

APPLE RENAMED KUMQUAT, KUMPODS TO BE RELEASED SOON Dear Mr. Montgomery, Your manuscript for Snow: A Memoir was not a page-turner. It sounds like you tried hard, but your life is really pretty boring. Like, when your parents kicked you out of the house, why didn’t you just take a sleeping bag to your friend’s house, instead of sleeping in an alley? And why did you keep buying cocaine when you were out of money? Also, why would you snort powder up your nose more than once?

I snorted a Pixie Stick up my nose once and everything smelled like oranges for a week. Yuck! Also, what is “turning tricks”? You never explain. Anyway, I give this book one star, and I think you should give up.

Sincerely, Jill Swenson, age 9, Editorial Assistant, HarperCollins Publishing

PUPPY WITH MASTER’S DEGREE TEACHES STUDENTS HOW TO DOGGIE

Dear America, The holidays are a busy time—so much so that we sometimes forget they’re a time for family. So this December, gather with your family in front of the TV for some of our newest Christmas specials, like Merry Christmas!: A Couple Is Freezing in the Woods and Season’s Greetings!: This Single Mother of Three Just Lost Her Job. And who could forget our now four-year classic, Happy Holidays!: Looks like Heather Got Sexually Assaulted Again. Tune in, Sundays at 8 PM EST! Yuletide blessings, The Lifetime Movie Network

MAN IN THE YELLOW HAT GOES MISSING, CURIOUS GEORGE SURPRISINGLY UNCURIOUS Dear guy who casually uses the phrase “never judge a book by its cover,” Do you realize the damage you could be doing with that advice? I almost DIED because of you.

—A man who read a book entitled This Book Is Filled with Anthrax

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COLORLESS GREEN IDEAS WANT PEOPLE TO STOP INVALIDATING THEIR EXISTENCE Dear Tortoise, What are you still doing on this road?

I woke up from my nap and finished the race three hours ago. I mean, this was your idea—no need to be a sore loser.

—Hare Dear Hare, History is written by the survivors.

And my life expectancy is 150 years.

Good luck spreading that story around while you still can. I think my version just might win out.

—Tortoise

MAN SCREAMS “FIRE!” IN CROWDED THEATER, CROWD SAFELY EVACUATES BEFORE THEATER BURNS TO THE GROUND

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T he Y ale R ecord

ALL THE KING’S HORSES AND ALL THE KING’S MEN FAIL TO HEAR OF SUPERGLUE

Fine Indian Cuisine “A Treat for the senses” —Hartford Courant “Amid elegance, a variety of Indian dishes” —New York Times Hours Lunch Monday - Saturday: 11:30 AM - 2:30 PM Sunday: 12:00 PM - 3:00 PM Dinner Sunday - Thursday: 5:00 PM - 10:00 PM Friday - Saturday: 5:00 PM - 10:30 PM

Every Day Lunch Buffet 148 York Street, New Haven, CT 06511 203-776-8644 www.zaroka.com

Amnesiac seeks something or other.

Wanted: fuck-nun.

Dear Great Britain, I know Model UN isn’t supposed to match reality exactly, but as your moderator, I must insist you stop “sending Agent 007” to the nations of the world instead of employing diplomacy or traditional military force.

James Bond isn’t real, and he cannot solve all your problems.

Sincerely, An EP&E major who’s about to get the shit kicked out of him by a blond stranger in a tuxedo Dear security guy at Bass Library, Did you really need me to open up every single pocket in my backpack before you let me leave? Look! It’s my laptop! You found it! Way to go, man. You do realize that if I actually wanted to take a book out of Bass Library, I could just check it out, like, for free? That’s how libraries work.

Maybe your time would be better spent checking everyone who goes in and out of some other building on campus. For example, if you were to sit outside the JE dining hall, you might catch me and my suitemates systematically smuggling cups and silverware back to our room.

Just sayin’.

Sincerely, A concerned undergrad

Zoi’s

Local breakfast & lunch café

s Zoi’ Orange on

We Cater Hours: Monday - Thursday 7 am - 6 pm Friday Saturday 7am - 3 pm

7:30 am - 1:30 pm

338 1/2 Orange Street New Haven, CT 06511 P: 203.777.6736 F: 203.777.6740 Catering: 203.777.6735

You: my father in the clouds.

Me: the world’s saddest lion.

HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT TOO COOL FOR SCHOOL, DIPLOMA, JOB, ENOUGH MONEY TO SUPPORT FAMILY Dear pig eating lettuce, Why so fancy?

—Pig eating bacon

Healthy, Growing, Cancerous

T he Y ale R ecord

YALE SHOP

ON CAMPUS

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T he Y ale R ecord Dear woman on the street offering free samples of chocolate, Ew, coconut? No thanks.

—A homeless man

THE OLDEST

OFFICIAL YALE SHOP

ON CAMPUS

WE HAD THE BEST ONE NIGHT STAND EVER, BOASTS LOCAL IKEA Dear Stephen, While we appreciate your creative spirit, and while yes, Sour Patch Kids were wildly successful, I’m afraid we simply cannot afford the legal ramifications that would be sure to hit us if we were to market a product called “Cyanide Kids” to depressed teens.

Although I was definitely a fan of your proposed ad slogan: “First they kill you.

Then, they’re sweet.”

Regretfully, Reena Kallan, Cadbury Adams Canada, Inc.

PSYCH PATIENT HAS MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES, ALL OF THEM PRETTY DOUCHEY 57 BROADWAY, NEW HAVEN, CT 203-789-2157

57 BROADWAY, NEW HAVEN, CT 203-789-2157

Dear Tracy, So…you know how hard we’ve all been working to repair the damage done to your lungs, and I know how much pain the operations have caused you.

Unfortunately…none of it’s done much good. I guess there’s really nothing left to say except LIVE FROM NEW YORK, IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT!!!

—A doctor who wanted to give Tracy one last moment of happiness by making her think she’s on Saturday Night Live instead of in a hospital room dying

SCOTTISH PEOPLE ADMIT THEY ALSO CAN’T UNDERSTAND SCOTTISH ACCENTS Dear mother trying to convince her child to finish his dinner, Actually, that green bean casserole doesn’t look all that appealing. I suppose we’d appreciate it, but I think saying we’d love to have that food is going a little bit far.

—A starving child in Africa

T HE YALE RECORD PRESENTS

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