A Word From the Editor on Healthcare

Healthcare is a fancy word for the government trying to tell me what my favorite flavor is. People are healthier than they think most of the time. To illustrate, here’s a third-hand anecdote packed with first-rate action.
My friend’s younger brother just started his first year at a college whose name sounds like “squidmore.” One day during orientation, this bright-eyed youngster was denuding with a lady friend, and just when the situation turned adult, she excused herself. Had to call her boyfriend or something. The young man went on his merry way, thinking himself quite the sailor, when suddenly, he was betrayed by two very angry testicles. He waddled, bolt upright and without hesitation, to the health center, all the while complaining about the “clamping sensation, like my balls are stuck in a fucking transmission.”
Finding no male staff on hand, he rushed to the hospital. After the doctors poked and prodded his upset sac for a few minutes, he received the grave report. “Take a seat, son,” the doctor warned. “It appears that you’re suffering from testicular vaso congestion.” After a moment of sinking silence, he clarified: “Remember to finish beating off next time.”

-Dave

'09 Sex Party Brings College Godlessness to New Level

Among the many human couples frantically exchanging fluids and bacteria at Eclectic’s Saturday night Sex Party, there are reports of wanton acts involving Eclectic House’s resident sheep named China White. Several individuals who paused in their revels to survey the throbbing landscape of coitus reported an unidentified male initiating carnal union with the confused quadruped, who had wandered out onto the floor after hearing what she believed to be the bleating of a sheep emitting from somewhere within the melee.
Countless pairs of desperately clawing arms drew her into the midst of what she described as “the largest gathering of humans in heat that I’ve ever seen,” and there, trapped in a forest of sweating, concupiscent, and indiscriminately fornicating humans, she was quickly subject to the advances of an inebriated student and criminal against nature. China White, initially unsure of what exactly was going on, says that she thought nothing of the stranger stumbling towards her sporting only a sock until he began having at her “like a thirsty ram in the hot sun.”
“Some people say he was just totally hammered, but I saw a fair amount of deliberation,” said one sophomore in attendance who witnessed the act in its brief entirety. Despite the traumatic nature of her impregnation, China White expressed her intent to carry the child to term, citing her conviction that life begins at conception: “I am a firm believer in the sanctity of life, be it human, sheep, or hybrid-bastard. The deliberate destruction of such a gift is simply unconscionable.”

Research Suggests Preventative Medicine "Ruins the Surprise"

The Obama administration’s health care plans are of concern lately, including rationing health care and killing old people for sport. But that’s not all; Obama also wants to “give away the ending” to millions of Americans through preventative health care. We talked to Arthur, a man who narrowly avoided this disastrous fate.
“I was waiting in the emergency room,” he gurgled from his death bed, “and no one would tell me what was going on. And then, suddenly, SURPRISE!! It was a brain tumor. I was so excited I had a seizure.” With a twinkle in his eye, he added, “But it has been hard to fight the rapid memory loss.”
Democrats are scrambling to find compromises, including a “Spoiler Alert!” stamp on test results, and medication labels like “freedom candy” so as not to give patients any hints.
Meanwhile, millions of Americans can’t afford health insurance, adding a fun, spontaneous element to their lives. In fact, studies show that under Obammunism, 34% of Americans would get regular check-ups, which can lead to extreme boredom, clinical depression, cholera, lockjaw, pinkeye, scabies, scurvy, swimmer’s itch and even death. Not so “healthy” after all. Or is it? No.

Iconic D-bag to Join League of D-bags

WASHINGTON, D.C.---In a shocking move Monday, the G.O.P. officially signed Kanye West to perform a nation-wide tour, visiting town hall meetings across the country to interrupt Democratic speakers on health care. Minority leader of the House John Boehner: “Our scouts saw the talent inherent there: he’s boisterous, he’s brazen...black Jesus, but an asshole.”
Meanwhile, U.S. Rep. Joe Wilson, best known for shouting “You lie!” at President Obama on September 9th, is filing a class action suit against the Party, claiming they violated the terms of his contract. “My client had an exclusive agreement with the Republican Party,” says Wilson’s lawyer. “It’s negligence on their part, and we’re gonna kick their sissy asses!” He proceeded to shout “Sissie asses!” while jumping up and down, and eventually collapsing in tears.
Wilson has long been the forerunner amongst Republican interrupters. However, it may now appear that his star is fading. “Wilson? Is that the Obama guy?” comments local teenager Jeremy Fitzgerald, president of his high school’s Young Republicans club. “Dude is whack. He hasn’t had any new shit in forever.”
West, on the other hand, makes new shit all the time. “Yo, I’ma be straight with you,” the rapper said between sips of chocolate breast milk. “I don’t know who this Wilson guy is, but I had one of the best interruptions of all time!”
The Party’s decision to hire West coincides with a current movement to make the G.O.P. hip, sexy, and essentially feral. Currently, plans are underway to sign Lady Gaga as the Party’s official “Crazy Ass Bitch.” Additionally, rumor has it that Asher Roth and Tila Tequila are gearing up their campaigns for Senate bids in 2010. Of course, all this activity accompanies the Party’s new mission statement, “Crunk in this piece.”

Take it From Me: Government is Booming

Yeah, my current ringtone is “Foxy Lady” by Lenny Kravitz. Everyone knows I sweat the females, and it should come as no surprise that I like to start off my workday with a hearty blowjob in my office from our newest intern. Don’t get me wrong, my desk top is more than sturdy enough to support acrobatic lovemaking (which I save for lunchtime), but I always chuckle when she hits her head kneeling beneath it. Imported mahogany, and I never apologize. This is my third year as a member of the House of Representatives. I’m here to enjoy some of the best years of my life and run train on the Capitol, but man, my job sucks sometimes. Take it from me, some of the bullshit that finds its way through my office makes me want to cut hospital funding, or not delete racist emails from my computer.
And this healthcare bullshit. That bill is fucking a thousand pages long. Right now, my copy is propping open the bathroom door for ventilation. Between you and me, I just ruined the only toilet on this floor. But what else am I supposed to do with that massive paper stack? I just stuck some colored tabs between the pages so no one would ask me if I’ve read it. Reading is what my assistants are for. The other Congressmen are going to discuss the bill on the floor tomorrow anyway. The nerds must have looked at the thing enough times by now, but for fuck’s sake, nobody reads all of them. I don’t think Pelosi even takes attendance anymore. Why can’t I just get booked on the Daily Show and touch wangs with Jon Stewart? Doing his show makes everyone think you’re popular and sexy. Maybe then the other members of Congress would just chill out; they all think I’m weird because I’ve been pushing the Homeland Security Committee to install cameras in the girls’ bathroom. I just drew a picture of Ron Paul wearing a nutsack as a motorcycle helmet on the back page, and I might drop a deuce in his office later. Yeah, your tax dollars have had a big day, America.

Most Competitive Swine Flu Season Yet

This flu season at Wesleyan marks the most competitive yet. Of a record 2,683 students exposed to the H1N1 virus, only a lucky 71—or 2.65%—have secured infection. “Frankly, we’re baffled and delighted by this dramatic increase from past years,” remarked President Roth.
“I wish I could fully convey the individual strengths and talents among Wesleyan students infected with Swine Flu,” announced Lisa Currie, Director of Health Education at Davison, in a comprehensive report. “The variety of backgrounds, coupled with a shared commitment to poor hygiene and germ-sharing, is inspiring. It’s that diversity which makes them more likely to contribute to the growth of this vibrant epidemic we call Swine.”The mean SAT score of patients has risen to 1,450, while the average hourly phlegm production hovers at a respectable 3.4 ounces. In celebration of the news, indie darlings—and much beloved Wesleyan alumni—MGMT announced a sudden name change to M1M1.

The Weekly Convo

This conversation is classified. We present this at the cost of our loved one’s fingers. Once it is made public, we will be renegades, outlaws on the run. The two men portrayed in this transcript are cockeyed and rosy-cheeked, respectively. They are two of the highest paid employees in the medical industry.

Cockeyed doctor: “Swine Flu” worked, bless it! We are the most successful epidemic namers in the world.
Rosy-Cheeked doctor: We just can’t lose, can we?
CD: Yeah, too bad we don’t get any vacations. It’s always something.
RD: I know. There’s like a new one every day. I mean come on. Well anyway, which one’s next?
CD: Ooh, this is nasty. Oh yeah. And the file says it spreads like mustard.
RD: Well what is it already?
CD: You remember how with swine flu all the symptoms were exactly like the classic flu symptoms, except more vague?
RD: Yeah. Good thing we deliberately made it sound like a disease for total asswipes. That got people’s attention.
CD: Well this one is just like Athlete’s foot except in your lungs. Itchiness. Flaking. Oozing. It’s like a Chicago pizza in there.
RD: Nice. I’m gonna go with your food instinct on this one. “Bronchital enchiladas?” No, actually that sounds retarded. Maybe just some alliteration. “Leper lungs?” No, “The Flan Flu?” I’m so close!
CD: Marvin, take some more Xanax and calm the fuck down.
RD: Oh yes. More Xanax. More and more.
CD: I’ve got it! “Filthy Roger’s Disease.” Damn I’m smart. Pass me that shit.
RD: I just love you.

Contributing Writers--09/22/09

Yael Chanoff – Ruins the Surprise
Piers Gelly – Eclectic Party, Illustration
Alex Ray – Take It From Me
Stephan Stansfield – D-bags
Zach Schonfeld – Swine Report

A Word From the Editor

To: Readers

It’s been an eventful few weeks. I’m of course not referring to what’s been going on in the news because I only care about TV show characters, but I’ve noticed that at Wesleyan, the people are uniting under one very powerful and old sounding motto. “Waste not,” they whisper in unison, rumbling frugality. We saw it last week at the front doors of Mocon as hundreds of students stabbed, spit, and trampled their way to the mounds of discard that filled the old dining hall and suspected spaceship. I was among the crowd, and yes, I have a microwave that smells like butter and some cool t-shirts from JFK middle school’s ‘05 Spring picnic in Paterson, New Jersey.
In conclusion: white, enabled, backwards hat-wearing frat bros who go unnoticed at college parties should join the Feminists for Peace campaign. Mad chicks.

From: Dave

Bon Appétit Adopts Waste Not Policy

MIDDLETOWN, CT – Bon Appétit, to cement their public dedication to social responsibility, unveiled their new Waste Not! Dining Policy this week—a bold plan to incorporate students’ garbage into food at the Usdan Campus Center. “This is a momentous step in Wesleyan’s commitment to environmental sustainability,” declared President Roth, biting into a slice of Used Futon Pie. “Damn, this shit is gross—but environmentally excellent! Take that, Amherst!” Other menu options include Shower Cap Paninis and Shaved Skinny Jean Roast; the Condom Soup option has not been as popular as predicted, but there are reports of changing the name to Protection Stew.

Waist not, motherfucker!

Take it From Me: Euthanize Your Appliances

Oh god, please! Someone pick me up and buy me! You there, with the faux-vintage t-shirt and American Eagle flipflops! I’m only ten dollars! I’m the perfect pick to cook Hot Pockets, though I must admit that my previous owner decided to play Frisbee with my rotating glass plate after drinking a fifth of Cossack Vodka, and got kicked out for accidentally hitting a PSafe officer with it. My rotating plate evenly distributed heat and made sure that his Pizza Bagel Bites were always perfect!
I’ve been on this college circuit for far too long, now. The…“things”…that people like to “cook”…they cake to my interior walls and my mind alike. All the nacho cheese, overboiled ramen, and pastry fillings…it’s all one solid black lump of preservatives and shame now. And whoever discovered that microwaving Peeps was so novel deserves to be freeze-dried. The last time I saw soap was when someone decided to put a bar in me and cook it up. It looked like Jabba the Hutt made out of semen. It’s been so long, I should have molded over by now. At least then I would have been tossed out to die, just like my father, who met his merciful end in a fraternity parking lot to a pick-axe.
I’m an appliance of peace. I never intended to hurt anyone! Have I been cast with this lot of half-broken mini-fridges, bare-wired appliances, and ratty beer t-shirts because of the mouths I’ve burned with superheated cheese? Must I rust in this purgatory called Mocon, while kids go out and buy their fancy “Sharp” brand microwaves from Target? I can’t live like this! Please, if anyone reading this has any mercy, you must kill me quickly. Buy me, plug me in, fill me with Usdan forks and turn me on! Kill me…Kill…me!

WNN Declared Totally Popular Epidemic

What began a harmless, witty, Shakespearean-esque title for a tag sale has created rippling consequences across the Wesleyan community—and no, we’re not talking about the disastrous effects on perceived economic status of the student body. We’re talking about the sad misinterpretation of the slogan, which gave rise to the new psychological disorder known as “Waist Not Nervosa” (WNN). Hordes of Wesleyan females have begun serving themselves considerably less food during meal times. “Not only is the aim to ‘waste not’,” said one sophomore, “but to waist not as well!” Although the unhealthy trend has just hit campus, bohemian-chic fashion mavens like Mary-Kate Olsen have been brandishing the look for a few years now. “I’ve always striven for the ideal hour glass figure, and an invisible waist is part of that look,” said a senior who is now being injected with frappé fried chicken due to her alarming 8 inch decrease in stomach circumference. As haunting as the image of these students may be, more disturbing is the psychological effect of the “waist not” mantra. Most of its followers suffer from distorted body images, and view their stomachs as much more “waistful” than they actually are.
OBHS recently released a statement in which they encouraged students “not to waist not, or stop being completely retarded.” They claim that the medical repercussions of this new saying far outweigh the environmental ones that occur from wasting. This has angered some faculty members who disagree with the promotion of not not wasting in any form—waistful or otherwise. “Here we have a coherent school message, something to help conserve the earth, something to engage the class of ’13, and something to raise money and stimulate the economy—and yet the Office of Behavioral Health chooses to publicly contradict it? It’s a load of post-meal vomit,” said President Roth. Despite the controversy, the medical threat of WNN is indisputable. To prevent your friends from falling down the waistless pit of starvation, keep an eye out for the following symptoms: donning stiff, cylindrical shirts to minimize whatever midsection still exists, eating air with a fork, and the ability to resist the falafel cart at 1 am after getting really high.

The Weekly Convo

The old man, ragged and exhausted from months of journeying through charred landscapes, wipes the layer of ash off of the building that reads ‘Mocon’ on the front. He checked to see if any mutant biker gangs or bug-zombies were nearby, and then walked inside with his son.
Inside the dark, aquarium-like carapace of the building were piles of pillows, clothes, broken exercise equipment. Artifacts of a grand past and near-forgotten time.
“Waste not,” the man whispered reverently.
“What does that mean?” the boy asked.
The man found a faded blue rug and handed it to his son. “Carry this,” he said.
“What do we need this for?” the boy asked.
“It cost only, like, two dollars,” the man said. “Years ago.”
“It smells funny.”
“As it always did,” the man agreed. “Here—” He handed the boy a copy of Patriot Games.
“What is this for?” the boy asked.
“It’s for reading Tom Clancy,” the man. “Ooh, and there’s a couch with only one missing leg. Let’s take it.”
“But we don’t need any of this,” the boy said. “We need radiation pills. We need lasers to fight the mutant biker gangs.”
The man grabbed the boy by the shoulder. “Waste not,” he said. “Don’t you see? Our ancestors wanted us to take it. We must honor that wish.”
The boy thought. “Maybe...” he said, “Maybe we could take that computer joystick too?”
“Yes,” the man said. “Now, help me...” The man heard the telltale click-click-click of bug-zombie jaws outside. They were approaching the building.
“Help me move the couch,” the man whispered. “We must save it. Civilization must endure.”
The boy nodded solemnly.

You Gonna Eat That Cell Phone?

In line with this week’s theme of Waste Not, we’ll be looking at often-missed ways to help conserve the environment!
Used condoms - These can be blown up into zany balloon animals for the young toddlers, and they serve as bubble gum for the party goers. Lip smackingly delicious!
Toe nail clippings - These can be ground up and drunk in a shake to get that healthy sting of all-natural protein!
Emotional attachments - Don’t discard these after a failed relationship! Rather, bury them deep down---they’ll give you something to cry wistfully about when you’re too happy!
Term papers - Don’t discard your term paper on Confucianism and virtue ethics when you can just freeze and stuff it in your nethers to keep cool and limber during Pilates!
Old beer - Far too often, perfectly good alcohol is abandoned in half-consumed Solo cups. Take a stand on this; as parties are winding down, make the rounds and rescue any stagnant beer into a plastic bag! Save it for Sunday!
Toilet paper - so what if there’s a little poop on it? Keep your used toilet paper in an old Shamwow box like I do; you can often get 5 or 6 wipes from a single sheet!

Contributing Writers--09/15/09

Seth Alter – Convo
Piers Gelly – Illustration
Timur Khanachet – Take It
Stephan Stansfield – Advice List
Zachary Schonfeld – Bon Appétit
Kira Sutton – WNN