Personally, I'd like Thanksgiving much more if there was Chinese food because that shit is tasty.
Here are some unpublished articles we were going to have in our Thanksgiving issue that never came out. Like that mystery stain on my sweatpants. Really, I've tried everything.
Dave
12/4/09
Take it from me: I’m Fucking Cranberry Sauce
I see you, gazing past me at the gravy boat, with that helpless, infantile expression on your face. You look like a dumb tourist in your own home, with your man-breasts and open-mouthed gluttony. Where’s your fanny-pack, Paul? News flash: this isn’t the line for the men’s restroom at SeaWorld, you sweaty man-hog. You don’t think your family is at all embarrassed by your little display of cholesterol dependency? Aunt Susan will pass you the gravy in due time, so settle down, you sasquatch. You know what you need right now? A little bit of me: canned cranberry. And I’ll let you in on a secret, Paul. I want to be inside you, too.
What’s not to love about me? Asparagus makes your piss stink? A novelty at best. Squash is healthy? That’s cute. I make everything go down easier, and I promise you it’s worth the ride. And what the hell is so special about a turkey, anyway? They just run around and scream at each other all day. You know that kid in your third grade class who wore a helmet and sat by himself in a chair specially designed not to tip over? The kid who laid down a fat dump in the urinal on tie-dye shirt day? He probably eats turkey. Eats it, and likes it.
Not that you’d ever notice, but I’ve been strained and sterilized in a factory, and sealed in a can to be enjoyed at any time. I have a rich array of vitamins and nutrients, Paul. No, don’t drool into the mashed potatoes, you beautiful son of a bitch. Grab that spoon between your mammoth fingers and help yourself to some cranberry goodness. You won’t regret it.
What’s not to love about me? Asparagus makes your piss stink? A novelty at best. Squash is healthy? That’s cute. I make everything go down easier, and I promise you it’s worth the ride. And what the hell is so special about a turkey, anyway? They just run around and scream at each other all day. You know that kid in your third grade class who wore a helmet and sat by himself in a chair specially designed not to tip over? The kid who laid down a fat dump in the urinal on tie-dye shirt day? He probably eats turkey. Eats it, and likes it.
Not that you’d ever notice, but I’ve been strained and sterilized in a factory, and sealed in a can to be enjoyed at any time. I have a rich array of vitamins and nutrients, Paul. No, don’t drool into the mashed potatoes, you beautiful son of a bitch. Grab that spoon between your mammoth fingers and help yourself to some cranberry goodness. You won’t regret it.
POV: New Wesleyan Website
Last week the University unveiled a controversial new Wesleyan website. What do you think?
Jane Thernstrom ‘10
Religion and Physics Major
“The website’s fine. I just think it’s time Wesleyan got a new motto. How about: The School That MGMT Went To, Since 1831.”
Martin Benjamin ‘57
English Major
“The website was far superior back in ’54. I was there.”
Gregory Baker ‘12
Prospective African-American Studies Major
“Aren’t there more urgent uses of funds during a budget crisis? I mean, c’mon—the Usdan doors don’t even open anymore.”
Mica Newfin ‘10
Hipster Studies Major
“So? I have the Wesleyan website on vinyl. The first one.”
Peter Meth ‘11
Computer Science Major and Anthropology Major
“This web design really puts my Amish-themed Porn site to shame.”
Lori Crow ‘13
Prospective College of Social Studies Major
“Personally, I just think Wesleyan.edu is such a boring URL. Was GenderfuckMyLife.com already taken?”
Undead Turkeys Seek Revenge, Human "Giblets"
Thousands of Americans, ready to indulge in one of our nation’s finest traditions by gorging on several pounds of food, were sent fleeing their dining rooms in terror when turkeys all across the nation became reanimated and attacked the would-be revelers.
“I had just finished my second serving of creamed corn and was reaching for the stuffing shovel when I felt a sharp pain in my arm,” recounts Dale Pinkmuddy of Cleveland, Ohio.
“I looked over to see a beak piercing my arm, and the turkey’s blood-red eyes were just staring at me. I threw my son of four years at the beast to distract it long enough for me to escape.”
Patricia Dingusson of Los Angeles had a similar story. “We were right in the middle of saying grace and giving thanks when we heard something gobbling. I told Robert, my youngest, to be quiet and show some respect. When it didn’t stop, I opened my eyes and the turkey was pecking my daughter’s face off.”
Many theories as to why and how the turkeys have become reanimated have arisen, but most experts agree that black magic was most likely the cause.
“The glowing eyes, the hunger for vengeance, the cruel sense of irony, it all points to witchcraft,” said Wesleyan biology Professor Norman Defno. “If it were a virus or some sort of extraterrestrial bacteria, you’d see the infection spreading, but as it stands now, I blame Chinese wizards.”
“The military has been dispatched to all Butterball processing centers in the continental United States,” said a press release from the Department of Homeland Security. “We urge all civilians to remain in their homes and throw out any leftover turkey bits immediately, and for the love of God, do not behead them. Like the mythical hydra, this is how they replicate, as the head will simply grow back and a new body will sprout from the severed cranium. Should confrontation prove inevitable, we have found that basters full of holy water seem to be the most effective method of deterring them, but the only way to actually kill the abominations is to break the wishbone.”
“I had just finished my second serving of creamed corn and was reaching for the stuffing shovel when I felt a sharp pain in my arm,” recounts Dale Pinkmuddy of Cleveland, Ohio.
“I looked over to see a beak piercing my arm, and the turkey’s blood-red eyes were just staring at me. I threw my son of four years at the beast to distract it long enough for me to escape.”
Patricia Dingusson of Los Angeles had a similar story. “We were right in the middle of saying grace and giving thanks when we heard something gobbling. I told Robert, my youngest, to be quiet and show some respect. When it didn’t stop, I opened my eyes and the turkey was pecking my daughter’s face off.”
Many theories as to why and how the turkeys have become reanimated have arisen, but most experts agree that black magic was most likely the cause.
“The glowing eyes, the hunger for vengeance, the cruel sense of irony, it all points to witchcraft,” said Wesleyan biology Professor Norman Defno. “If it were a virus or some sort of extraterrestrial bacteria, you’d see the infection spreading, but as it stands now, I blame Chinese wizards.”
“The military has been dispatched to all Butterball processing centers in the continental United States,” said a press release from the Department of Homeland Security. “We urge all civilians to remain in their homes and throw out any leftover turkey bits immediately, and for the love of God, do not behead them. Like the mythical hydra, this is how they replicate, as the head will simply grow back and a new body will sprout from the severed cranium. Should confrontation prove inevitable, we have found that basters full of holy water seem to be the most effective method of deterring them, but the only way to actually kill the abominations is to break the wishbone.”
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