Vol. 149, No. 2
THE YALE
Nov. 3, 2020
RECORD
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chair@yalerecord.org
BAPTISM FAIL! I’M STILL JEWISH Dear Dr. Phil, I found a yam that looks like you. Do you want to buy it? See enclosed photos. Best, Jeff
SOUTH PARK IN REAL LIFE? THIS 4TH GRADER IS RACIST Dear Jeff, You just took a potato and drew a picture of me on it. I would expect better from the wealthiest man in the world. Best, Phil
FAMILY GUY IN REAL LIFE? THIS GUY NEEDS TO SHUT THE FUCK UP
Dear Mitch McConnell Watch out! There’s a turtle behind you! Sincerely, A Concerned Fan
THAT WAS A CLOSE ONE! I THOUGHT I HAD COVID, BUT WEBMD SAID IT’S JUST KIDNEY FAILURE Dear Concerned Fan, That’s just my cousin, from the turtle side of the family. No need for your concern. Sincerely, Mitch McConnell
MARVIN CHUN ELABORATES ON YALE’S GREEN COVID ALERT LEVEL, DESCRIBING IT AS “ACTUALLY MORE OF A HAZEL”
EPIC FAIL: THIS VIRGIN JUST ASKED WHERE DOES THE BOOB GO DURING SEX! HAHA. I MEAN, WE ALL KNOW, RIGHT? I SURE DO. HAHA. Dear Bumble Bee Pillow Pet, You’ve been with me through everything. Band camp, science camp, magic camp. Every step of the way, you’ve been my loyal partner and friend. You know I’ve always wanted my first time to be special and... well, I’m so glad it was with you. I hope it was as good for you as it was for me ;) Yours, A Curious Cuddler
BODY POSITIVITY WIN! THIS GUY LOOKS GROSS BUT STILL FUCKS
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HOLD THE PHONE! MY HANDS ARE FULL Dear Yale Information Technology Services, Why are you guys blocking all of the good porn sites? This is oppressive and inhumane. Please change your policies. Yours, Backed Up and Sweaty
THE NEW PROPERTY BROTHERS? I LIKE TO MAKE OUT WITH MY BROTHER TOO Dear Backed Up and Sweaty, We’ve been getting these emails a lot and would just like to clarify that we have not blocked anything. You are most likely just typing in the wrong URL, as it is MonsterHorseSchlong.GOV, not MonsterHorseSchlong.COM Regards, Yale Information Technology Services
“BUT IT’S JUST DARK HUMOR,” CLAIMS DEVIL’S ADVOCATE AFTER CALLING PROFESSOR A WHORE IN FEMINIST LITERATURE SEMINAR Dear Best Buy, My TurboChef i5 Touch HighSpeed Microwave is bulky, ineffective, and sucks at warming up my spoons. This was not anywhere close to my Best Buy. In fact it was very bad. My Best Buy was a pogo stick that I got at a lawn sale. It’s blue and bouncy and I stole it, but that’s not the point. The point is that I’m coming for you, Best Buy. I’m coming for you. Sincerely, Bill
Dear Justice Marshall, I am your biggest fan! Someday I want to be on the Supreme Court just like you. I love the legal system and am very careful to never break any laws. Last year I even dressed like Lady Justice for halloween! Do you have any advice for a future judge? Sincerely, Little Suzy
THE NEW RBG? I TOO AM SHORT. Dear Little Suzy, Idk man. Snort coke and fuck mad bitches. Laws are suggestions at best and only dorks and losers care about them. Why don’t you find a cool hobby like vandalism or a college investment club. Also damn lady Justice is like blindfolded, right? That’s kinda hot… Sincerely, Justice Marshall
OBITUARY: HEROIC TWO-TIME KIDNEY DONOR DIES AFTER REALIZING YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO DO THAT Dear Little Suzy, Oh no! It looks like you accidentally sent your letter to my brother, Justice Thurbad Marshall instead of me, Justice Thurgood Marshall. He is only a judge in the Ohio State Court of Appeals and has no federal experience or moral compass. I am the only reliable Marshall. I too love the law! I would recommend following your passion and trusting your heart. That way you will live out your dream in no time! Sorry for the confusion, Justice Thurgood Marshall
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ADOPTION FAIL! THE CHILD I PURCHASED IS WEAK OF MIND AND SPIRIT Obituary Correction The Editorial Board would like to apologize for an erroneous obituary in a previous issue of a magazine. The issue misreported that Ken Bone had died of bone disease before he had the chance to vote in the 2016 election. He is actually still alive and still undecided.
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Dear Little Suzy, Please ignore the other two, they don’t understand the real world. I am the only trustworthy Marshall brother. The true way to go forward is to tear apart the Supreme Court— slaying each Justice with your bare hands and feasting on their entrails— only to rebuild a better and more equitable system from its ashes. Only through destruction can real progress be made. Hope this helps, Justice Thurmorallyambiguous Marshall
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Check Checkout out our ourwebsite, website,
WHAT A LOSER! THIS GUY HASN’T HAD SEX IN THE PAST 16 YEARS... PROBABLY BECAUSE HIS NAME IS “RONALD REAGAN”
yalerecord.org, yalerecord.org, for formore morehilarious hilarious content! content!
—C. Rose
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T he F reedom Dear Ghost of Herman Cain, How do ghost mustaches work? As a bald faced man myself, I’ve always found your gorgeous lip bush to be a source of personal inspiration. Some days, when I was down and out, your breathtaking fucking stache was all I needed to seize the day. But alas, you died. My question to you is, can ghosts keep their mustaches? That is, could I still rub my cheek against your ghosty upper lip and feel your stubble against my smooth, smooth skin? Hypothetically speaking of course. Yours, Jimbo
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Dear Jimbo, Ghosts are, unfortunately, not allowed to retain their mustaches if they want to pursue haunting. I was made to neatly detach my facial hair in one piece and place it in a small locker. You can have it if you want. Your friend, Herman Cain
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Dear Ghost of Herman Cain, I literally just had a heart attack in excitement. Anyway.... now that I’m dead, where’s the locker? Yours, Jimbo
FOR SALE:
RECORD WRITER GROWS UP TO BE UNCLE WHO MAKES LITTLE JOKES IN BIRTHDAY CARDS TO HIS NEPHEW
My “I Voted” sticker from 2018. Used, but better than nothing. They don’t give you one of these bad boys with your mail-in ballot, now do they?
—Z. Caes
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ike many college students, this year I will cast my first vote for President of the United States, and I don’t want my vote to go to waste. I’ve thought carefully about how to vote in a way that will protect American democracy, but I still struggled to make a decision. Then I remembered the first thing I learned at the Record—always do whatever will make the most people laugh. But how do I participate in partisan politics while still being funny? Do I cast my vote for Trump because it was funny when he tripped at one of his rallies? Or Biden because his middle name is Robinette and that makes me think of a small bird as president? Or do I avoid the party system altogether and pull out the classic rogue vote for “Harambe?” That’s always hilarious and harmless! None of these options seemed to land with my focus groups, and I started to lose hope. I began to think, “Maybe some things are serious, and choosing who is going to lead a nation of 328 million people for the next four years is one of those serious things.” No, that can’t be it. Everything can be funny. I learned that at Aunt Peggy’s funeral. Then I decided, if voting wasn’t funny on its own, I had to make it funny. And to do that, I decided to have a funny voting story. If I did something crazy while voting, everyone would be so caught up in my story that they wouldn’t even care about the candidate I supported. After all, people always say I’m an “enthusiastic storyteller” and a “cunning, manipulative, pathological liar,” so I should be pretty convincing. I have already decided to vote by mail, to avoid the paparazzi and not because of anything else, so that narrowed down my options quite a bit. I couldn’t just walk into the polling place in a funny costume or fall down the stairs on my way out. But I didn’t see this as a limitation. I saw it as an opportunity. Because I thought of the funniest mail-in voting story of all—I decided to mail my ballot via a carrier pigeon.
T he F reedom It was actually a lot easier than you might think. I just walked out of my house and didn’t stop walking until I saw a pigeon on the side of the road. Once I found one, I picked it up and whispered, “Would you like to do me a special favor, little guy?” It was so excited it flew away, so then I just found another one and trapped it in a cardboard box. Then, I rolled up my ballot, gave it a soft kiss, and tied a careful bow around it. I wasn’t exactly sure how carrier pigeons know where they are going, so I just screamed, “Onward!” and set it free into the open air. I think that’s how it’s supposed to work. Of course, I didn’t release the pigeon before I snapped a picture for my Instagram story, and boy was it a hit! So many of my close friends swiped up to say, “LOL! That better not be your real ballot!” and “Haha! Funny in theory but not in practice!” And that’s when I knew I had done it. All the LOL’s and crying emojis proved to me that I had achieved my ultimate goal for the 2020 election. I did something funny, and people liked it. And that, to me, is what democracy is all about. You might care about “healthcare” and “immigrants,” but I find all that boring. I just want to have a good time and get attention. And in America, it’s okay that we think differently because we can express that in our vote. You go to the polls on November 3 and vote for Biden, and I send in my ballot on a pigeon with a vote for—wait, I actually think I forgot to fill it out, but that’s beside the point! The point is that I’m proud to be an American! And I’m proud that my first vote didn’t go to waste, or it technically did, but at least I had fun. That’s right. America is fun. So, I decided, it’s about time we dedicated an issue of Harry Rubin ’21 Chair
Kaylee Walsh ’22 Editor in Chief
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the Record to the funnest nation on earth. I initially thought naming the issue “The Fun Issue” would perfectly encapsulate everything I love about this country, but then I remembered that there are a lot of other things that are fun, like trapping birds and hanging out with me, that don’t necessarily have to happen in America. Then I thought of two things that truly define this nation because they only exist in America. First, there’s freedom, the concept that Thomas Jefferson famously invented in 1776. And then, of course, there’s beer, which really gives America its edge. I know Jefferson was drunk off his ass when he wrote the Declaration of Independence, just like I was when I tied my ballot to a live animal. Amidst everything that has changed across American history, these two amazing things have always been our foundation. And that’s why I’m proud to present the Freedom and Beer Issue of the Yale Record. Just as a warning, this issue might get a little political. You may not agree with every opinion put forth, and that’s okay. All I hope is that something in these next few pages can make you laugh, if I somehow haven’t already. Because with just days until the election and so much of our country’s fabric on the line, we at the Record know it’s important to provide some comic relief, which, conveniently enough, is exactly what we’ve always been doing. And most importantly, don’t forget to vote on November 3! Because it was funny when I threw away my vote, but if you do it, too, then you’d just be copying me.
—K. Walsh Editor in Chief
David Hou ’22 Online Editor in Chief
Will Cramer ’22 Publisher
Clio Rose ’23 Online Managing Editor
Joe Wickline ’23 Online Managing Editor
Jonas Kilga ’23 Managing Editor
Diana Kulmizev ’23 Managing Editor
Sam Leone ’23 Managing Editor
Zuri Goodman ’22 Webmaster
Raja Moreno ’23 Webmaster
Zosia Caes ’22 Copy Editor
Ayla Jeddy ’23 Design Editor
Avery Mitchell ’23 Design Editor
Ellen Qian ’23 Design Editor
Alex Taranto ’23 Art Director
Bea Portela ’23 Staff Director
Jacob Eldred ’23 Business Manager
Madelyn Blaney ’21 Old Owl
Rosa Chang ’22 Old Owl
Caleb Cohen ’21 Old Owl
Ethan Fogarty ’21 Old Owl
Sarah Force ’21 Old Owl
Luna Garcia ’22 Old Owl
David “Davey” McCowin ’21 Old Owl
Marcy Sanchez ’21 Old Owl
Maya Sanghvi ’22 Old Owl
Amanda Thomas ’21 Old Owl
Colin Baciocco ’21 Jamie Large ’21 Marty Chandler ’21 Paige Davis ’21 Jocelyn Wexler ’21 Alec Zbornak ’21 Ronak Gandhi ’22 Alex Kane ’22
Sam Karp ’22 Kyle Mazer ’22 Ryan Ofman ’22 Addison Beer ’23 Avery Brown ’23 Erik Boesen ’23 Raffael Davila ’23 Jacob Feit Mann ’23
Staff:
Contributors: Finn Gibson ’23 Shirshak Gautam ’23 Tanya Jomaa ’23 Jacob Kaufman-Shalett ’23 Andrew Kornfeld ’23 Simi Olurin ’23 Katia Vanlandingham ’23 Miguel Von Fedak ’23
Charlotte Leakey ‘23 Will Gonzalez ‘24 Michael Steinthal ‘24 Lisbette Acosta ‘24 Adriana Golden ‘24
Sarah Teng ‘24 Joanna Wypasek ‘24 Elijah Boles ‘24 Joe Gustaferro ‘24
Special thanks to: Addison Beer ‘23 and his archnemesis Addison Freedom, for inspiring the name of this issue Front cover: Alex Taranto ‘23, who won our keg stand contest and our keg stand drawing contest. (@adtaranto) Back cover: Sarah Teng ‘24, who we hope to crack open a cold one with in person some day. Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CXLIX, No. 2, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.org • Subscriptions: $50/year (print) • $10/year (electronic) All contents copyright 2020 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 begrudgingly acknowledges your right to correspond: letters should be addressed to: Chair, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chair@yalerecord.org. Offer only valid at participating retailers while supplies last. The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.
DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE FROM MY STEPDAD CHRIS
10. He always steps on the creaky board on the stairs that he keeps saying he’s going to fix.
The History of Chris, the second husband of my mother Susan, is a History of repeated Injuries and Usurpations, all having in direct Object the Establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid World.
11. He has twice committed vehicular manslaughter, and mom still lets him drive me to school. I lie awake at night paralyzed by the fear that the next day will be my last.
1. He has refused to cover up his gross hairy back. 2. He makes an ‘ahhhh’ sound after each sip of whatever goddamn hot drink he consumes out of his stupid fucking ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug (not my dad).
12. His Tweety Bird tattoo is always fully visible because it’s the only part of his back that he shaves. Like us, he wants to see it. —S. Olurin
3. He pronounces Wednesday as ‘Wendsdee.’ 4. Whenever Mom leaves the room, I catch him texting some girl named Katie, and he always puts his phone down abruptly when Mom comes back. Sus. 5. The droplets of sweat on his back catch on his thick bush of hair, like produce after the sprinklers go off in the grocery store. 6. His voice is so loud on the phone. 7. One time Mom was on a business trip and Katie came over and he made passionate love to her on my mother’s bed. 8. He chews so loud! 9. I’m also pretty sure he doesn’t pay taxes. We always get these notices in the mail from the IRS, and as soon as he sees them, he almost immediately sets them on fire before peeing on the ashes.
—S. Teng
T he F reedom
THE ELECTORAL COLLEGE RUINED THE KIDS’ CHOICE AWARDS
The Kids’ Choice Awards used to be awesome. From the gooey slime harvested from the boogers of crying children, to the glitz and glamour of tacky outfits reminiscent of the Kohl’s clearance section, it was truly the best night of the year. I vividly remember watching my favorite B-list celebrities bask in the glory of winning the esteemed Selena Gomez Lifetime Achievement Award like it was yesterday. But all that has changed ever since the big brains at Nickelodeon decided to unleash political hell onto its audience and institute an electoral college system. Are they out of their minds? Do they not realize that they’ll be breeding intense political conflict and disparity through the oppression of diverse thought over a children’s awards show? Seeing as the Kids’ Choice Awards were usually the highlight of my year, I thought I’d still give them a chance. But this new system is ridiculous! I have to register to vote in advance and present a photo ID to verify that I’m between the ages of 6 and 13? I’m just voting for my favorite animated movie, not the leader of a global superpower! And if that’s not enough, they’re also enforcing a no voter fraud policy. If you are caught voting multiple times or without mandatory parental permission, Nickelodeon’s very own squad of prepubescent middle-schoolers will hunt you down and shoot sticky green slime at you. Sorry, Trollz World Tour, I just can’t show up for you with stakes like this! But it wouldn’t even matter anyway if I voted. After all, being from a state that consistently leans toward Spongebob, there’s no way my voice will actually be heard. The only people whose votes really matter in this winner-take-all disaster live in like Florida, Pennsylvania, and maybe Ohio. Sure, I could phone bank, but there’s no use. The way this system works, only two, maybe three, nominees in each category will actually receive any votes. And so, that cherished ceremony of our childhoods has been tossed aside and replaced with a new, spirit-crushing bureaucracy that forces children to Renegade to the death over their favorite celebrities, movies, and TV shows. How innovative, Nickelodeon! What’s next on your list of fucking up childhood memories? Giving all your female-led shows to a middle-aged director with a foot fetish? —J. Wypasek
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“I JUST WANT BOTH OF THEM TO BE HAPPY” SAYS TORN VOTER By J. Wickline SARASOTA, FL — In a stunning effort not to hurt anyone’s feelings, undecided voter Roy Kettleman announced Tuesday that he just wants both presidential candidates to be happy. “I hate that I have to choose,” Kettleman said. “Running a campaign is really hard, and I’m just so proud of Joey and Donny for making their voices heard.” Since both party conventions, Kettleman has been keeping tireless track of both candidates’ campaigns. What he learned, he explained, only increased his admiration for both Joe Biden and Donald Trump. “These are two of my favorite people in the world,” Kettleman said. “And Kamala and Mike are such killer seconds-in-command. It’s definitely a ‘greater of two goods’ election.” Kettleman expressed his worry that the November election will have serious and sweeping ramifications; namely, if one of the candidates wins, the other might be sad. Kettleman went on to speculate that the candidate might take his loss personally, or start to feel bad about himself even though he did his best. “Trump and Biden are like Coke and Pepsi— equally delicious in every way,” Kettleman lamented. “But I can’t mix equal quantities of Trump and Biden into a glass! The best I can do is donate up to the FEC limit to both campaigns.” Kettleman was charged with voter fraud earlier this year when he was caught attempting to vote multiple times in the Democratic primary—once for each candidate. That experience, says Kettleman, taught him a valuable lesson about how to approach elections going forward. “In a perfect world, everybody would get to be president, but I now know that’s not the world we live in,” Kettleman admitted. “On November 3rd, one candidate will be getting my vote, and the other will be getting a handwritten apology.” While Kettleman is excited to vote for either nominee, he also admitted that he has a special place in his heart for many other political figures, including Bernie Sanders, Mitch McConnell, Amy Klobuchar, and Anthony Weiner.
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AMENDMENTS WE SHOULD ADD TO THE CONSTITUTION
WHEN WILL I START LIKING THE TASTE OF BEER LIKE MY DAD?
The right to bear legs Only people under 18 can vote Only people under 21 can drink alcohol Amazon Prime accounts are mandatory Everyone must pledge that bald men who are 5’7” are hot Elections will be conducted via a Google Form Everyone is invited to Jeb Bush’s house after the election for snacks If the president dies, the richest person in the U.S. will be sworn in Everyone not named Jeff Bezos must pay taxes
Dad says that beer is the flavor of America. He says that beer tastes like our great Founding Fathers and our brave American troops. “Why don’t you like the taste of that?” He always asks me. “Why don’t you like the taste of our heroes?” I tell him I don’t know. It doesn’t taste very good. But he just tells me that even Abraham Lincoln, who was a “big American stud,” was enjoying a cold one in the theater before he got shot. “Real men drink beer,” he says, “Real men drink the sweat, saliva, and fluids of our nation’s heroes.” Sometimes after school Dad brings home lots of beer for me to try. He calls it “Chug Training,” so that when I’m a big boy, I’ll know how to “kick back and chill” with other big boys. He makes me do this one exercise called “Guess That American,” where each beer brand is labeled with names of different American heroes. By now, I know that Bud Light tastes like George Washington. Coors Light tastes like Benjamin Franklin. Budweiser, I remember, tastes like all of our World War I veterans at once. “Be a man!” he yells while I drink. “Taste the heroes that brought you here. Taste them with your tongue, you wuss.” Sometimes I like it. The other day, I found the taste of Andrew Jackson (Miller Lite) quite fruity. But other times, I would try tasting James Madison making out with Thomas Jefferson (Heinecken) or soft French kisses from Teddy Roosevelt (Stella Artois), and I’d find the taste a bit too salty. The Vietnam veteran orgy (Corona Lime) was a little too intense for me, though I did enjoy the experience. I want to be a real, strong American man. I want to drink beer so I can stop being such a little boy and respect my country the right way. Am I doing it right? Will I start liking the taste of beer soon?
—Staff
THE NATIONAL ANTHEM, TRUMP 2020 EDITION Hello fellow Americans! It’s me, Donald Trump. It’s come to my attention that, just like all the other Hollywood yahoos who won’t let me play their songs, the COWARD family of Francis Scott Key has forbidden me from using our National Anthem. Add him to the list of socialist lowlifes out to get me! But I’m the smartest and most creative person ever— you’ve never seen anything like it. So maybe I can make my own, better anthem? Who am I kidding— of course I can! So, my loyal followers, for the first time ever, I present to you, The National Trumpthem: O say can you see? I’m on Sean’s show, late night! Libs attack our country, with their fake news mainstreaming! We will get four more years, maybe eight maybe more, For the taxes we dodged, $750 by scheming! And the test that I took, or maybe slipped to Jeb Bush? Gave proof to the world that I’m cognitively there. O say, does Sleepy Joe not know how to behaaave, For the land of the free and the home of the Trump! This instant classic will make its debut at my next rally. I’m already in talks with some great people named Kid Rock about doing a remix. Screw you, Francis Scott Key! —W. Gonzalez
—D. Hou
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A ferret. It may be the only animal on this list that isn’t real, but how could you say no to these clever and wily little bandits? Just looking at their beady little eyes, I think of everything America stands for — freedom, birds, and most of all, an unmistakable desire to assert dominance through nuclear weapons.
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RESTAURANTS WHERE YOU CAN FAKE BEING A VETERAN TO GET A DISCOUNT
Golden Corral. Every single person who has ever eaten at Golden Corral was wearing a bomber jacket and a Yankees baseball cap. Turns out, the dessert line at an all-you-can-eat buffet is the go-to for WWII veterans who miss being in a warzone. I’m pretty sure in this restaurant it’s assumed you’re a veteran and you have to provide documentation if you aren’t one. IHOP. They have weekly senior citizen nights! If you like to eat your flapjacks at 4:30 in the afternoon on Wednesdays, the waiter will probably be so distracted by Ol’ Mr. Henry’s riveting story about Korea that he tells every week that they won’t question the fact that you’re eighteen years old and claiming to have fought in the Gulf War. Buffalo Wild Wings. Same thing here, just catch the waiter at the right time. The home team is about to score the winning touchdown? Their eyes will be glued to the big screen while you show them your “military ID” (which is actually an iTunes gift card from Christmas 2009). Kentucky Fried Chicken. Tell the cashier that your nickname at bootcamp was “Finger-Lickin’ Phil” because you just loved fried chicken! Then tell them when you got shot during the Battle of Gettysburg, you stuck it out because you wanted to come back to a bucket of good ol’ KFC. They’ll be so touched that they might even give you a free meal! Applebee’s. When they bring out a rack of ribs, mention to the waiter that it reminds you of all the guts you saw spilling out during the Battle of Agincourt. A well-rehearsed monologue about how you’ve felt “six hundred years of pain” after this bloodbath is key. 20% off margaritas, here we come! Arby’s. If all else fails, the teenager at Arby’s will just believe whatever you say. He gets paid to flip burgers, not be a detective, after all. I mean you wanted a veteran discount, not necessarily quality food, right? Stop complaining and eat your discounted Fire-Roasted Philly that they probably pulled out of the trash. —K. Walsh
MY SON SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO WEAR HIS FURSUIT TO SCHOOL IF HE WANTS Listen, I get it. I’m just like you, Mr. Principal. I’m a simple man who longs for a simpler time. I love sipping frosty cold ones on my porch. I go to church every Sunday. I pay my taxes, when I feel like it. Now that my son is in first grade, he’s starting to take after his pop, and he doesn’t let any bureaucrat on Capitol Hill tell him how to behave. So he did what any true rugged American would do and started wearing a fursuit to school. I’m damn proud of him for it. You telling him he needs to change clothes is fascism, plain and simple. Since you clearly don’t already know, Americans are entitled to some pretty important rights. One of them is the right to free expression, and on that note, fuck you. You let kids wear Minecraft graphic tees to express that they’re huge fucking nerds? Or carry those backpacks with their name embroidered to show that their parents know their real, human name? Then why can’t my son express that he comes from a long line of purebred wolverines? Because it’s “distracting” and “the teacher can’t see if he’s paying attention or daydreaming about a graphic drawing he saw on DeviantArt?” Bullshit! We get it, Mr. Powerful Principal, you can’t keep your wandering eyes away from how handsome my son looks coated head to toe in purple and charcoal fur. I bet you’re jealous of how he dons a real man’s uniform, while you scurry around in that pathetic excuse for a suit. Maybe your father didn’t raise you right and give you your first set of paws on the day of your christening, but our family shouldn’t be punished for not stooping to your level. Honestly, if I had to sit in one of your oppressive cages you call a classroom all day, I would be longing for the comforting warmth of a handmade fur suit too. I’ve got no shame in doing what I love, and you have no right to try and take that away. So, Mr. Principal, how about before you try to steal my son’s second amendment right to fur arms, you come pry it from my cold, furry hands. —M. Steinthal
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YALE IMPLEMENTS MANDATORY PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE AT 7:50AM By E. Qian NEW HAVEN, CT — President Peter Salovey announced in an email to the Yale community this Monday that participation in a mandatory Pledge of Allegiance would be required for all students starting next week. According to the email, all students on campus would be required to stand in their college courtyard at 7:50AM each morning and recite the Pledge with their right hand over their heart. Residential college deans will be responsible for taking attendance during the Pledge. Those who miss the morning’s recitations will be put on a list. When asked for further comment on the purpose of this list, Salovey responded, “It’s a list. If you get on the list, your name is put on it. That’s what happens to you.” When polled after the announcement, 97% of students said that they were uncomfortable with these new policy changes. Among the most concerned about this policy change were students enrolled remotely, who have been asked to participate in the Pledge via Zoom. Marie DuPont, TD ‘23, an international student living in France, remarked, “It will certainly be strange to have to recite the American Pledge of Allegiance at 1:50 PM every day in the middle of a foreign country. But if I have to do it to graduate, I guess you can lather me up in apple pie and call me a bald eagle, or whatever they say.” Among the 3% of students in approval of this announcement, a group took to Cross Campus this week with American flags wrapped around their naked bodies, while chanting the pledge attempting to climb the flagpole. Marley Mitchell, ES ’24, recalled, “I guess it’s a little strange that one of the first things I saw on campus was a naked student wrapping their body around a flagpole, ten feet off the ground. I’m just a first year though, so I’m not sure if this is normal or not. Maybe it’s a secret society thing?” In response to the many Yale students who did not have the Pledge memorized, the University announced that a Pocket Pledge of Allegiance book would be available at the Yale Bookstore for only $50.
—L. Acosta FOR $50, THIS FRATERNITY WILL TAKE A SHIT IN YOUR KITCHEN SINK
Sick of being holed up in your room? Missing the authentic college experience? Fret no more! The brothers of Pi Omega Omega (Π.O.O.) are finally offering to give you a taste of what you’ve been longing for in quarantine— we will come to your house and shit in your kitchen sink. For the low price of $50, our trailblazing fraternity is offering to drive anywhere within a 600-mile radius, drop our pants over your freshly cleaned stainless-steel sink, drop a dookie, and tell you that you have to pay us. We can’t even tell you how many times over the years our house’s sink has been absolutely splattered with human excrement. Hell, none of us can recall using the toilet once. And we all know that classic frat boy feeling of brushing our teeth the morning after parties, looking in the mirror, and seeing shitstained teeth! Those were the good old days. But we realized that, since the Class of 2024 won’t be able to make all these fond memories during the pandemic, the least we could do is bring the experience to them. That’s why, for the price of a decent oil change, you can enjoy a personalized, frat-approved pile of shit in the comfort of your own home! And don’t worry— we’ll have our masks on! Just ignore the brown stains on those. —S. Leone
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THE BILL OF RIGHTS, RANKED
The Second Amendment. I believe that the right to bear arms is a vital component of our American liberty to protect ourselves from tyranny. The First Amendment. This amendment gives us freedom to assemble. To me, this means the freedom to assemble a beautiful rack of vintage German handguns in my garage! The Fifth Amendment. Good thing I don’t have to testify against myself! If I had to admit to the judge that the gun I carry everywhere is unregistered, I’d be a goner! The Tenth Amendment. This grants rights to the states and to the people. Basically, it gives me a right to look macho as shit wherever I go! The Sixth Amendment. Oh, that trial was speedy all right, thanks to this amendment. And that “impartial” jury knew not to mess with a dishonorably discharged Marine! The Fourth Amendment. Who knows what the government would have against me if they searched my house (especially my bunker) without a warrant? You know what they say— it’s only illegal if you get caught.
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The Seventh Amendment. This is where it starts to fall flat. Meaning I read this one about five or ten times and still don’t know how it affects me and my pieces. The Eighth Amendment. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad they figured out the chair was a “cruel and unusual punishment” before they let me fry for that stupid little skirmish outside Bass Pro Shop, and then the other one outside Cabela’s. But there are some people who really do deserve that kind of punishment, or at least reptiles disguised as people, according to what QAnon told me. I guess I’ll have to inflict a “cruel and unusual punishment” of my own. The Third Amendment. Letting hot soldiers quarter in my house? Why would we possibly have an amendment against that! Unless, of course, they find out about what I did in Vietnam, but they should know what happens when you mess with me. The Ninth Amendment. I don’t even know what “enumeration” means. Sounds like something from algebra class, and I always hated school for trying to teach me “facts” and the “truth.” The only “enumeration” I’ll be doing is counting all the deadly weapons in my home, thank you very much! —R. Moreno RED, WHITE, AND BLUE THINGS TO SHOW YOUR PATRIOTISM
The British flag The French flag The Russian flag The Cuban flag The Cambodian flag The Falkland Islands flag The former Yugoslavian flag The North Korean flag The Easton, Pennsylvania flag —S. Gautam
—Staff
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WE NEED TO END THE WAR ON PUGS
SIX 2020 PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATES YOU PROBABLY FORGOT ABOUT
Listen up, folks. It’s time for a NATIONAL CONVERSATION. For too long, our government has been fighting in an unjust war against everyone’s favorite four-legged friend. The first time I heard about the War on Pugs, I was confused…like, really? A war on those cute little bundles of fun? I tried looking stuff up about it online but never found anything, but from what I’ve heard, the War on Pugs is NOT okay. Did you know that since 1971, Pugs have been public enemy NUMBER ONE?! I mean, what the heck, President Nixon? I can forgive you for Watergate and the invasion of Cambodia, but this is the last straw. And he created the Pug Enforcement Administration just to crack down on pug trafficking! Pugs should be allowed to be traded freely!!! It’s called PETFINDER.COM, ever heard of it?! Also the PEA costs gajillions of dollars annually! That is so much money that could be used on other things, like, I don’t know...funding Medicbear (grizzlies over 65 still need health insurance!), Bunnyemployment (rabbit benefits have gone downhill!), and finding a cure for CROWVID-19 (the crows are dying, jeez!). Besides, the War on Pugs has done nothing but create more problems and never accomplished what it set out to do! People are STILL USING PUGS. Like using them for comfort, or as a cure for their sadness, or for recreation. It’s no secret people still use pugs!! Like, sometimes I go to my friend Tammy’s house and she has some pugs and I’m like, “Don’t you know those are illegal,” and she’s like, “What the hell are you talking about,” and I’m like, “Dang, I guess if it’s behind closed doors, it’s okay.” WE SHOULD BE ABLE TO TAKE PUGS IN PUBLIC! And sure, sometimes pugs have negative sideeffects, for both individuals and society as a whole. Sometimes they pee and poo on the floor. Sometimes you can get addicted (*cough* Tammy)... But come on, how can you “Just Say No” to their widdle, sqwunchy faces?! They’re just like small packets of joy! And they’re so teeny-weeny and light, like, so light! They probably weigh just a few grams! Nothing compares to the high of raising a pug!
Tim Hickenlaney. A pragmatic former Governor or Senator from a state somewhere, Hickenlaney is best known for almost meeting the donor threshold for the second debate. Said Hickenlaney, “I knew this was my moment. If only the voters knew that too.” Diane Sacramento. The often controversial California Congresswoman made headlines when she called Super Tuesday “Pooper Poo’sday.” Voters immediately turned on her campaign, demanding the candidate “pick a lane” and “either say Pooper Tuesday or Super Poo’sday, not both!” “Slender” Silas Slahon. As fiery as he was wiry, “Slender” Silas Slahon is best known for slipping into a sewer grate at the Iowa State Fair, never to be seen again. Said Slahon shortly before his untimely demise, “There aren’t any sewer grates around here, are there? I’m notoriously slender!” Chip Van Steidt. The richest man in the American Southwest excluding Arizona and the pointy part of Nevada, Chip Van Steidt spent enough of his personal wealth on his campaign to buy a Patagonia jacket for every homeless person in America and cure AIDS twice. Fueled by ambition, coke, and the American Dream, Van Steidt insisted that, despite his loss, the friendships he forged with the other candidates were “the only win-eroony this billionaire-with-agoddamn-B needs.” Bernie Sanders. It’s hard to believe, but for a short while this little-known Senator from Vermont was favored to win the Democratic primary. Best known for his pie-in-the-sky proposal to care about poor people a little bit, Sanders’ progressive agenda was roundly defeated on Super Tuesday by Joe Biden’s platform of “Well, C’mon Jack! Lookie Here A Minute.” In his official concession announcement, Sanders wrote, “Diane was right.” Ben Carson. This lifelong Republican got lost and stumbled into the wrong party’s primary. He made ‘em swoon, sang a tune, and had a few laughs along the way. He left soon enough, but not before accidentally garnering a solid 15% of Democrats purely by virtue of his infectious charm. Said Carson, “What can I say? That’s showbiz.”
—M. Chandler
—J. Wickline
T he F reedom
I NOTICED YOU DIDN’T SAY ‘UNDER GOD’ DURING THE PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE
Dear Becca, Yesterday morning in Ms. McLachlan’s class, I think you may have done something you are unaware of, and I thought—as your caring compatriot—that I would let you know before it becomes second nature. Perhaps you were distracted by the sheer tricolor glory emanating from the flag or from the diamondencrusted crucifix I wear around my neck, but your mouth stopped moving when we got to the third to last clause of the Pledge of Allegiance. Ever since last week’s seat-shuffle, I sit near the back of the room, so I can see everyone pretty well, and that’s when I noticed. As we all rose in awe of a nation united under His divine reign, connected by His mercy, you only half-heartedly stood. The announcement to join the pledge seemed to disrupt the fine ink drawing of a half-naked woman’s silhouette you doodled on the cuffs of your jeans. Your eyes rolled back in your head, clouded by some heathen darkness, a sullen and angsty dissatisfaction with such morally rich, yet unwieldy words. Of course, it was difficult to follow your eyes behind your dyed-black hair and mascara, but that’s what I assume happened. The point is, I am unconvinced that you believe in God and only God’s capacity to save us, so I figured you were lost, or mourning, and this pause was a cry for help. I’m here for you. I lost my way once too. Last year, I let my thoughts drift into sinful obsessions with pacific saltwater fish and eating raw cookie dough. I found myself waking up at 3 AM in a puddle of sugarsweats scrolling through pages and pages of Wikipedia articles about Pacific Sand Lances. God found me even then, as I prayed in the sticky darkness for salvation. First, the Lord came down into my bedroom and shorted the battery to that laptop. He then got the Target a block from my house to discontinue the brand of cookie dough I so ravenously consumed. He truly works in mysterious ways. So, I beg you, Rebecca, as you have lost your way, and are not compelled to say His name, lean into this discomfort. Proclaim your love for a nation under God. With His love, Grace P.S. My Youth Group meets on Tuesdays after school if you ever want to tag along! —J. Kaufman-Shalett
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ANDREW YANG PROMISES TO GIVE EVERY AMERICAN A SOFT KISS ON THE CHEEK By E. Boles NEW YORK, NY — In an unprecedented bid to bolster his constituent base for the 2024 presidential election, Andrew Yang took to Twitter last Thursday to announce a plan to give every American a soft kiss on the cheek. The plan, according to Yang, seeks to queue every American in a waiting list so that they may receive a small peck on the cheek by the future Commanderin-Chief by the end of his first hundred days. “Let’s be honest here: we’re facing a nationwide affection deficiency. We’re living in a world where everyone fucking hates each other,” Yang wrote. “We need a fresh idea that addresses this issue in an efficient and innovative way, and I believe that giving all Americans an equally brief, equally affectionate smooch on the cheek does just that.” Critics of this plan worry that Yang will not be able to follow through on this promise, which may lead to widespread feelings of loneliness and betrayal across the country. Others say it disincentivizes the pursuit of affection earned the true American way— with hard work and a well-crafted Tinder bio. Additionally, objectors say too many will get greedy and, wanting more than a free perfunctory peck, attempt to move to second base. One supporter of the policy, @yangsimp2020, tweeted, “This plan is just what I’ve needed. I’ve spent so much time crusading in the comment sections of various social media platforms for universal basic income that I’ve had no time for actual human contact!” The Twitter user further commented, “I can’t wait for that day in 2024. I’ll make myself so nice and clean for you, Andrew. #YangBang” The tweet would later go viral, with #YangBang becoming the top trending hashtag in the U.S. for nearly a week. After this announcement, Yang was seen giving an unknown woman at the door of his hotel room an affectionate smooch on the cheek. There is disagreement among political analysts as to whether this was a demonstration of his plans.
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T he F reedom
THIS “AMERICAN REVOLUTION” IS A PRETTY BAD IDEA IF YOU ASK ME
I don’t really follow politics, man. I just think it’s a bad idea. Fires in the street, destruction of private property, and now, some protester got himself killed in Boston. For what? Because his tea was too hot or something? Just put down the tea and wait a minute, by God. Shut up and chisel. Me? I’m just trying to make some barrels, feed my kids, and live past forty. And I make some pretty frickin’ good barrels. I don’t really understand the rioters. Always yap-yap-yapping about freedom this and independence that, but we all know that if we keep rioting, or—God forbid—go to war, things are just gonna get worse. And who’s gonna suffer for it? The barrel-makers and cod-salters. Big Merchant doesn’t care if he’s selling tea to the supposedly oppressed or guns to the so-called oppressors. But if we go to war, who’s gonna need barrels? Not my customers in Britain, that’s for sure. Sometimes it’s just better to leave power to experienced people, you know? I don’t really follow politics, and no, George wasn’t my first choice for king, but I trust him. And these clowns down in New York? Do I really want to trust the founding of a new country to a bunch of big-city lawyers? So-called experts, huh? And this democracy thing? A whole bunch of Greek bullshit. The British knew what they were doing when they started this place, and now people are getting angry about a few taxes to pay for some wars. But they fought those wars for freedom, you know. If you really cared about freedom, you’d pay your lousy taxes and stop complaining about it like a damned Frenchman. If you hate things so much, why don’t you just leave and start your own colony in a virgin land far away from the oppressive nanny state? Huh? You ever think of that? Yeah, I thought so. But for now, I’ll still be here with my staves and my fire, putting salt-cod on the dinner table for my wife and kids. I don’t have time for any politics. —J. Eldred
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OTHER THINGS IPA COULD STAND FOR
Intellectual People Alcohol Italian Polish Alliance Indianapolis Pokemon Association Invironmental Protection Agency I Punch Australians I Pee Aggressively I’m Patricia Arquette I’m Pete Abuttigieg Is Protestantism Acceptable? International Pandemic Acknowledgement I Ignore Acronyms —Staff MY TOP FIVE FAVORITE CIA COUPS
Brazil, 1964. It was textbook destabilization, really— cut off aid, fund political opponents, backing a military coup, run of the mill stuff. You all know the drill. Congo, 1960. This one was more of a side hustle, so it’s not my favorite, but it was certainly a blast. Our Belgian brothers asked us to do a lil somethingsomething to help them keep control over the region, and boy, did we deliver! Canada, 2025. This one was awesome! After the mass migration of many Americans to our neighbors up north for “better healthcare” and “a government that actually supports them,” we pulled off installing a grizzly bear as president, and the nation erupted into absolute chaos. That’s what you get for wanting rights, you idiots! Bolivia, 1971. When Hugo rang and told us he wanted to topple the government and effectively turn the country into a military dictatorship, how could we refu— Wait. Is that a sniper outside my window? Oh my god, what year is it? Did I just leak the Canada plan? Oh shit. Oh no. My home, 2020. I could never keep my mouth shut, and it’s finally gotten the best of me. If only I thought about how bad I was at keeping secrets before I agreed to be Director of the CIA! How Shakespearean of me to dedicate my career to orchestrating these coups, only to die in a coup of my own. Well, it’s been fun, folks. See you on the other side. —J. Kilga
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IT’S 2020: TIME TO LET ME QUARTER SOLDIERS IN MY HOME
FUN FACTS ABOUT AMERICA
Listen people. This injustice has gone on too long. Since the birth of our great nation, at least according to what I remember from South Park, our country has been run by elitist lefties who will stop at nothing to take away our freedom. These so-called “democrats” destroy democracy by giving us “rights” to “protect” us from “cruel and unusual punishment” and “unfair trials,” among other things. All good Americans who believe in the Constitution must recognize that “rights” have no place smothering our amber waves of grain. Don’t even get me started on the most atrocious restriction of all— the abhorrent “Third Amendment.” I believe in the Constitution and would gladly give my family’s life, liberty, and happiness to protect it, but this “Third Amendment” is against everything this nation stands for! I swear some liberal yahoo like Alexander Hamilton must have snuck that in when no one was looking. If I want the government to quarter soldiers in my home, I should be able to make that happen. If I want a hot Marine to enter my bedroom and leave the next morning after breakfast, what can the government do to stop me? As a matter of fact, I have family who are troops. Are these commies in Washington going to say that my courageous, shredded grandfather who fought on the front lines in Iwo Jima can’t even come into my house? What’s next? I can’t kiss a Navy SEAL softly under the moonlight? Enough is enough! I love the purple mountains majesties and fruited plains of this great nation more than anyone, and I believe that we need a strong military to protect them. But how are they supposed to defend my freedom when I can’t even tell them to “make themselves at home while I slip into something more comfortable?” Anyone who supports the troops knows it’s time to abolish the “Third Amendment,” invite these brave American heroes into our beds, and give them a soft caress to show our appreciation.
America has the BIGGEST Economy. In World War II, America took the number one spot for economic production, all thanks to American manufacturing excellence. The current US economy is the biggest the world has ever seen, and you know what they say about countries with big economies… America is the biggest country in the world. Plenty of people will tell you that Canada, or even Russia, is bigger than the United States, but they have forgotten that those aren’t really countries— they’re more ideas about what to call a big expanse of land. Have you ever even been to either of those countries? I certainly wouldn’t leave this great nation for that commie shit! How can we even know if they’re real? The United States has No Hills. Not one. Now you might be thinking, “How could that POSSIBLY be true?” Let me explain— the United States only has mountains. There are no hills in the US of A simply because everything in the United States is so outrageously large that we legally have to call them mountains. (Fun fact: Did you know the U.S. is famously home to the largest mountain in the United States?) America has never done anything wrong. Not one thing. Ever. Remember Germany’s little temper tantrum a few decades ago? Remember England’s obsession with controlling our great country? How about those Soviets threatening to destroy the world? You know who’s missing from that list of evil-doers? The great United States, of course. America has never flirted with fascism, committed genocide, engaged in imperialism, exploited the international economic apparatus to exploit natural resources, or been close to causing worldwide devastation. Go us! Or should I say, go U.S.
—F. Gibson
—M. Von Fedak
—A. Taranto
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T he F reedom
AREA MAN BLOWS WHOLE BEER FUND ON SON’S COLLEGE By S. Leone KANSAS CITY, KS — In 1982, Edith Knight, on her deathbed, willed her great nephew Craig a trust fund of $280,000, with strict instructions that it be used for beer and beer alone. But what happened next is yet another unfortunate example of our nation’s cultural crisis. Last Friday, family member’s were shocked to learn that the family’s entire beer fund had been spent. Then came the unfortunate news— Craig Knight had frivolously spent the entire beer fund on his son Derek’s postsecondary education. By the time loved ones discovered what he had done, it was already too late. “When Craig had left the house originally, he told me it would be an innocent visit to the package store to replenish his supply of Natty Lights,” recalled Craig’s wife, Stacia. “But when he got home at 3 AM, I knew something was up. And then he started talking about how ‘Derek could be a really great student if he just applied himself,’ with the smell of Frappuccino on his breath. I thought, surely he didn’t do what I thought he did.” At approximately 1:45 AM, Knight, in an enlightened stupor, stumbled over to Moulden Family Bank and opened a savings account to be dedicated to Derek’s college tuition. Distraught witnesses report that Knight proceeded to complete the FAFSA on a public bench. Despite Craig’s history of being a “lifelong learner,” Derek insists that he had never expected his father to cross the line. “I thought I had a bright future ahead of me. I’ve been pulling all-nighters at bars for months now to prepare for the KSAT (Keg-Stand Aptitude Test),” commented Derek. “I’ve even had recruiters from Applebee’s take notice of my talents, but now my dad wants me to ‘go to college’ and ‘consider becoming a doctor.’ So much for dreams! Now all of the money we use to buy Coors is tied up in some stupid savings account. I can’t believe he’d do this to us.” While Derek is currently unsure about his college decision, he noted that his father is particularly interested in Brigham Young University, known for its notoriously dry campus.
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POINT: I’M VOTING FOR BIDEN BECAUSE HE’S THE SWEET ONE. Joe Biden is the type of man to roll up to your house and say “hey, sugar” in that charming old-school twang as he holds open the door to his classic light blue T-Bird. Your dad would call him a “gentleman” and invite him to go golfing after he shows up to your door with a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Joe would take care to know everything about you, including that your favorite flowers are carnations, and somehow, that you use eucalyptus shampoo (I don’t remember telling him?). That’s the kind of president we need, one who will be chivalrous enough to hold the door open to world leaders, help them to their chair, give their hair a nice whiff as they sit down, and have them home before curfew. On November 3rd, a vote for Biden is a vote for that cutie patootie boyfriend you never had, but always wanted.
COUNTERPOINT: I’M VOTING FOR TRUMP BECAUSE HE’S THE HOT ONE. Say what you will about all the bad things he’s done in the past twenty minutes, but you can’t deny that Donald’s got some absolute yams. He’s more dumpy than a dump truck. He’s more cakey than a Bundt cake. He’s got that badunkadunk, that dadonkadonk, and that kadunkadunk. What I’m trying to say is that when Trump walks into a press conference, his ass arrives five minutes later. And you know what? It’s hot as hell. Do they tailor his pants like that on purpose? Because if it’s a campaign strategy, it’s definitely working. Anyway, a vote for this hottie is a vote for world peace, because with an ass that fat, allies and enemies alike will be too busy staring to consider waging war. And besides, we’ve got the juiciest weapon of mass destruction of them all on our side.
—C. Leakey
—C. Leakey
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THE YALE RECORD’S PLEDGE(S) OF ALLEGIANCE I pledge allegiance to the Mag of the Yale Record of America. And to the Corporation, by which it’s planned, one writer, underpaid, with Freedom and Beer for all. For our dear friends at the little paper down the street: I pledge allegiance to the Y.D.N. the Breitbart of Elitist America. And to the resumes, for which they covet, one newspaper, “unbiased,” incoherent, with fiction and falsehoods for all. And for our loyal followers on #Twitter: We stan the stupid little bird app of the Un*t*d St*t*s of Am*r!cx. And to the simps, for which we sksksk, #Cancelled, #Indivisible, with paid followers and retweets for all. —Z. Caes and Z. Goodman
—L. Acosta
WAS THE WHISKEY REBELLION IMPORTANT OR IS IT JUST THE ONLY THING I REMEMBER FROM APUSH? I pretty much don’t remember anything from APUSH. While I recall analyzing vaguely problematic political cartoons and barely readable quotations that Mrs. Pfeiffer photocopied out of a textbook from 1974, the actual content of this class basically went in one ear and out the other. I wasn’t nearly as good of a student as Jessica, who sat next to me and always wore the most fashionable sweaters. I do remember one thing, though, and that’s the Western Pennsylvania tax protest suppressed by the federal government in the early 1790s, otherwise known as the Whiskey Rebellion. For some reason, we spent two weeks on that subject, roleplaying as President Washington and the no-nonsense rebels, before Mrs. Pfeiffer realized how little time we had and taught us about the entire Jefferson presidency in five minutes. But that’s really it. If you asked me any question from that test, I would have no idea. Was The Jungle by Upton Sinclair or Sinclair Lewis? Beats me. You know who would know the answer to that? Jessica. Maybe I should call her. As I was saying, all that useless trivia is forgotten, like the author of the Zimmermann telegram or whatever happened between 1865 and 1914. Railroad stuff, probably. Jessica lived near the train tracks. Once I went to her house to go study. We sat right next to each other, and I let her use my Chapter 5 Quizlet. But Chet was there, too. He said stupid stuff like, “Bimetallism sounds like a band, right, bro?” Jessica laughed really hard at that. Then, Chet pulled out a bottle of whiskey he got from his older brother. That was my first drink. But when I turned to Jessica to ask her about the defining novel of the Beat generation, she and Chet were kissing. Then she threw up on my copy of Five Steps to a Five, and I took the bottle and went home. Jessica was way too good for Chet. Her notes were color-coded, and her handwriting was the neatest I’ve ever seen. Chet didn’t even know America went to war with Spain. (Or was it Portugal? I guess I don’t really know either.) The day I learned about the Whiskey Rebellion was the day of Chet’s party. I finished off the whiskey and called the cops to Chet’s house. On a scale from Iran-Contra to Teapot Dome, this was Watergate. Chet lost his lacrosse scholarship, the two broke up, and Jessica’s never been the same. What did I get out of this, you ask? I may not have gotten Jessica or passed the APUSH exam, but I sure gained a deeper appreciation for the government’s power to disrupt a good time, just like they did in 1794. Maybe I did learn something in that class after all!
—J. Gustaferro
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