Archive for March, 2001

20 Questions with The Streak

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | Bob Kostass

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

Q: I notice that you don’t look like the typical basketball. You also are wearing clothes. Do you wear this attire during the basketball games?
A: No, normally I find nudity brings good luck, but I do pick up some new clothes in my spare time at Build-A-Bear. Hey, did you see that new WU shirt the panda bear was wearing? It was great. I gotta get me one of those.
Q: I see. Ok, let’s talk a little basketball. How did you begin your career at WU?
A: Well, see, I was chilling at Sports Authority and they put my ass on clearence and all the
sudden I guess WU decided they could splurge on a new ball. So I ended up here.
Q: How did you decide to play for the women’s team, as opposed to the men’s?
A: Being that I’m a women’s-size ball, I figured that the women were the only way to go, if you know what I’m sayin’.
Q: Do many people recognize you around campus? I’d imagine you get noticed often, what with your reputation and all.
A: Well, the ladies recognize me, of course. But besides that, people don’t really know I exist. It’s kind of upsetting too, because after all I was around for 81 games.
Q: Do your limbs ever get in the way during the games?
A: I try and just hide them and act like a normal ball. But after the games….well, that’s a different story.
Q: Have you ever sustained any injuries from excessive bouncing?
A: Sometimes I feel light-headed, but I guess that’s cause I’m full of air. I mean, that makes sense, right?
Q: That’s true. Now, I have to ask you a sensitive question. How did you feel that fateful day at Fontbonne when you realized you were all over with?
A: Well at first, it was a little rough. I mean I never expected it to be over so abruptly. But I had a good run, and I did my best every game, so I just gotta think, “That’s life.” I’ve moved on.
Q: Do you plan to continue to start up your career again at WU or elsewhere?
A: Actually, I think I’d like to head over to Duke or Stanford. Since they’re Division I, maybe I’d get more exposure over there.

Sanders Joins up With Pistons

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | Mike Jordan

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

We all remember the moves Barry Sanders made as a running back for the Detroit Lions-but this was a sidestep not even a Pro-Bowl linebacker could have expected.
In an unheard-of jump from professional football to professional basketball, the second-most successful running back in the history of the National Football League has reportedly signed a tentative contract to play hoops with the Detroit Pistons of the National Basketball Association.
Sanders could not be reached for comment, but his father did meet with the media Sunday in London to discuss the surprising announcement.
“When he was younger, Barry was schooling just as many people on the court as he was on the gridiron,” said Alvin Sanders.
At Oklahoma State, Sanders was unable to go out for the basketball team because of his football obligations.
“He did play other intramural sports in college,” said Sanders’ father. “In fact, I think his freshman B league team took the championship. Barry played point and just rained threes. I’ve got it on video if you’d like to see it.”
It remains to be seen whether or not Sanders can expect to carry on the type of domination in the NBA that he displayed in the NFL. Questions regarding his size have clouded what the Sanders family hoped would be a momentous occasion marking the return to sports of one of its most
prolific figures.
“The bottom line,” said Barry’s dad, “is that Barry is back playing ball. It doesn’t matter what kind of ball it is, so long as he’s playing it..
You’ve all asked about whether or not he’ll be big enough to play in the NBA. Well I say, if a man is big enough for the NFL, how can he not be big enough for the NBA. When was the last time you saw Kevin Garnett’s legs?”
Throughout the press conference, Barry’s dad repeatedly defended his son’s decision to embark on a basketball career by saying that his son could take anybody in the NBA in a game of horse.
“That kid’s been shooting the lights out over the past two years,” said Barry’s dad. “He hasn’t been doing anything but shooting the basketball. Day in, day out. He’s got a gym in his house, you know.”
Just where Sanders has been hiding out these past couple years in his absence from football remains unclear. It does appear, though, that he’s kept himself in good shape. At least, enough so that the Pistons were willing to take a chance on him.
“This is a great achievement for our organization,” said Bob Stone, the assistant VP of the Pistons. “We’ve taken a few looks at Barry shooting hoops and we all said, ‘Thumbs up.’ A couple of us could hardly help from doing the Bob ‘n’ Weave.”
Yet, from reports of players leaving Sunday’s practice, the first practice that Sanders has attended since signing with the team, indicated that it would be a little while before Barry would be ready to lace ’em up and squeak the hardwood.
“I don’t know how many times we had to say, ‘No, Barry, you can’t run with it,'” said one player who takes a lot of shots but asked not to be identified. (Cough: Gerry Smackhouse!) Ahem.
Apparently, though, Barry’s straightarm is
working as good as ever these days. Three Piston players had to leave the court early for X-rays after being bowled over by Sanders as they prepared to take a charge in the lane.
“Barry looked good as far as running through guys,” said Pistons coach, Bo Kumars. “The thing that bothered me though was the excessive
celebrations he was doing after he crossed the
baseline with the ball. I told him, ‘Barry, if it’s a real game, you can’t spike the basketball.’ I mean, if we’ve got a guy out there spiking the ball, we’re going to get hit with all kinds of techs. Still, I think he looks promising as a point guard.”
One Detroit fan favorite this isn’t sitting well with is Pistons rookie point guard Matinee Cleaver, whose spot could be in jeopardy should Sanders find the handle his dad says he’s got.
“Hey, I used to like to watch Barry run through defenses as well as anyone else. He’s still spinning and juking, but he ain’t even dribbling the ball,” said Cleaver. “He did school me in horse, though.”

Sports Briefs

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | Poor Soul

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

Wilson’s Record Gets Slimmer

Remember last year when the Elias Sports Bureau announced that Hack Wilson’s runs batted in total for the season of 1930 was actually 191 instead of 190, this increasing by one the Major League Baseball record for RBI’s in one season? Well, the ESB has reneged that statment and announced that his RBI total for the season of 1930 really should be 190, as it was originally believed to be for around seventy years.
Last year, while cleaning out their offices, the ESB noticed that one run batted in had somehow gotten loose from Wilson’s season total and was hiding at the back of the filing cabinet. An intern digitizing all statistics discovered the little critter asleep in the back of the cabinet.
“Just between you and me,” said the RBI. “I’m the 37th RBI of Hack Wilson’s 1930 season. I’ve been
hanging out, just chilling, keeping it real you know.”
“How were you scored,” asked the intern.
“Well, old Hack came up in the second inning and grounded a ball to deep short. The bases were full when Hack got up, and there weren’t any outs. The run from third scored. That was me.”
The intern reported this story to his boss and thus RBI number 191 was restored.
This week, the RBI was checked into a local insane asylum and in a deep psychiatric session, he revealed the truth. “I was scored on an error,” he said. “I don’t even count! I’m worthless to the world. I just wanted to be an RBI..Am I still eligible for the Hall of Fame?”
Commissioner Bud Alan Jackson Selig had this to say: “Uh, there’s no effing way he’s getting into the Hall of Fame, I don’t care how many hits he had.”
The RBI total has been readjusted to 190 and the run scored on an error is still receiving therapy.

Derek Jeter Is Proclaimed Best Player Ever

Folks, the debate is over. Many have believed it to be true for years, but today Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter has been proclaimed the best player ever to play baseball in the history of the world. To that end, the Proclamations Committee has also declared a law that no future player can be considered greater than the slick-fielding, big-hitting, four-time championship winning shortstop wearing jersey number four.
The Yankees have shown their support for the notion by retiring not only Jeter’s number 2 jersey, but deciding to give the hike to history and retire jersey numbers 1, 3 and 4 in recognition of Jeter’s greatness as well. Jeter was honored before the game and had this to say:
“Today.Today. I consider myself.myself. the greatest player .the greatest player.in the history of the world.the world.”
Jeter said that the numbers speak for themselves.
“I mean last year, my fielding range ranked last in baseball among all regulars (at 4.12, behind TONY WOMACK’s 4.21; Tampa Bay’s Felix Martinez led all shortstops with a 5.67), but who cares, right? Plus, I’ve got two league-leading totals to my credit, one when I got 219 hits to lead the league in ’99 and then the other when I lead the league in ’98 with 127 runs scored. That’s what I call dominance.”
The Proclamations Committee, consisting of Jayson Stark, several other Yankees fans and pitcher Andy Pettitte explained its decision.
“Let me talk,” said Stark. “You can’t argue with championships!”
One of the Yankees fans said: “Man, Jeter is clutch.”
A Red Sox fan attending the announcement was yelling things from the back of the room.
“He’s only driven in 100 runs once!”
That Sox fan then got heckled out of the room. People chided him with taunts of “Nomar! Nomar!”
At least Jeter doesn’t get hurt, they told him. Well, except for this year when it looks likely that he’ll start the year on the disabled list. Between the Yankees next championship and now, the Committee will have time to prepare another award for Jeter to get next offseason. One American league general manager who spoke on the condition that I write a very vague article said, “We’re thinking that it’s pretty clear by now that Derek Jeter is also the best person ever. Period.”
Mariah Carey could not be reached for comment.

Athlete Avoids Clich‚

Earlier today Joe Athlete made it through an entire press conference without sporting one single identifiable clich‚. What’s even more amazing is that it came at a conference where Athlete announced he would sign a 16-year, 1.7 billion dollar contract with the Texaco Strangers.
“Um, I think I’m going to spend my money on pizza and beer,” said Athlete. “Also, my guess is that I’m going to buy a big house and a fast car. I can’t say that we’re going to win here, but that’s not really the point either, is it? I just can’t believe I’m getting all of this money.”
A Student Libel reporter asked Athlete if the game had become all about the money.
“I think it has,” said Athlete. “It’s all about the money.”
Athlete can’t guarantee that this pay increase means that he’s going to be playing at a higher level , since more will be expected of him.
“Well, I like to keep things on an even keel, you know,” Athlete said. “Why walk up stairs when what you want’s on the main level?”
Athlete is also now the de facto owner of the team.
“I’m thinking about moving to L.A.,” he said. “I got some friends in the film business. We’ll give the Dodgers a run.”
The Dodgers currently rank first overall in the majors in revenue. The Yankees are second and George Steinbrenner is pissed!

Ankiel Hits Bull Mascot

Down in the minor leagues as a member of the AAA Durham Bulls, Rick Ankiel threw a wild pitch and hit the bull mascot in the head. He said he did not do it on purpose.
Bulls catcher Mike Matheny leapt up from behind home plate and yelled, “He hit the f*cking bull!”
Ankiel, recently traded to the Tampa Bay Devil Rays organization for Brent Abernathy and Esteban Yan said, “I wasn’t breathing through my gills.”
Chuck Knoblauch could not be reached for comment. Neither could Steve Blass.

Coach Fahey is WU Messiah

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | Poor Soul

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

An official Washington University announcement dispatched on Thursday proclaimed WU head basketball coach Nancy Fahey the undisputed savior of the women’s basketball program here at Washington University. Fahey has compiled an impressive run as the Bears head coach, going 116-4 over the past four seasons, including four straight national championships.
“Yeah, I guess I never thought of it like that,” said WU senior, Dr. Bryan Ebill. “That is a lot of wins.So, did you see where the Cardinals might trade Drew?”
A 100-foot statue of Fahey is in the works. Plans specify that once the 200-ton bronze monument is complete, they’re going to borrow the crane from the parking hole-er-I mean lot, and they’re going to drive it across Mudd Field to the parking lot of the athletic center where they’ll meet this huge flatbed truck in the parking lot. The crane is going to pick up the monument off of the truck and place it right on top of the AC. Two big flood light will be inserted for eyes. On game nights, one light will glow red and the other green even though Nancy’s eyes are normally.Nancy what color are your eyes?
Chancellor Mark Wrighton had this to say:
Naturally, Washington University bigwigs are just ecstatic about this call. I mean, the referee has been going their way all night. I’m glad to see he finally freaking got one right.
Student Libel can only speculate as to what this statement actually means. Sentence one looks like 4th century politico, but we’re going to do some more background checks on that before we can be sure. Overall, though, I think what Chancellor Wrighton is saying is that, “We’re all just glad that Coach Fahey is on our side. What she’s meant to the program, I mean, you just can’t say enough-you can’t really even put it into words.”
Student Libel asked him to explain this in sportspeak.
“Well, first and foremost, you gotta look at the championships. Coach Fahey has shown that she is just the consummate floor general. Simply put, Fahey knows what it takes to win. She’s a winner. She really knows how to coach.”
Coach Fahey could not be reached for comment but this guy in my Spanish class said that he thought that he heard someone say that they overheard someone saying that they heard that Coach Fahey told the teacher in Spanish that she thought it was a little much.
We here at Student Libel can’t help but agree with the coach. We propose that one stipulation to the deal be added. We recommend a zero-tolerance policy be required for the statue on the roof. If the statue starts reaching down and grabbing people by the throat when they come to watch games, the statue should be banished to the south of the Rio Grande! What’s that? Oh, the statue should be banned to the south of the Red River!
Word on the street is that the password in order to get the statue to leave you alone is something like, “Hey, Fahey” or “What’s up, Fahey?” If the statue has a hold of you and you forget the password, tell someone to climb up onto the top of the AC; on the statue’s ankle is a keypad. Find this keypad. Open the lid. Turn on the power. Turn the key. Flip the second switch from the right. No, your other right. That’s right. See the controller? The code is up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, select start.
Look at all those championships.

Diary of a Cross-Country Reporter

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | Poor Soul

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

I am the one and only cross-country reporter at Student Libel. Every day I look into the mirror, marvel at my image, and remind myself of the special and prestigious job I have.
Today, I can’t help but be ecstatic about my job. This morning, I jump out of my bed after a sleepless night. My mind just wanders with all the possibilities today might bring.
This afternoon is the meet of all meets: the We Will Pay You to Come Watch Cross Country Invitational. I just have this feeling that the meet will be packed with fans cheering on the athletes, of whom I am the only one to have the privilege to write about.
I also know today has important significance for the running team. If the runners can run fast enough, they will get to take a bus to Wisconsin, get off of the bus, run, get on the bus again, and return home. I can’t even imagine the excitement that this possibility must bring them. I wonder if the thought of running with the cows in the Cheese State will motivate the runners to run fast today. I repeat this question over and over in my head, praying I won’t forget to ask the runners about this after the race.
I walk over to the park where the invitational will be, armed with my paper, pen, and tape recorder. Not surprisingly, the field is packed with spectators when I first arrive. I notice that the whole crowd is lined up single file at what appears to be a concession stand. It’s 9:00 a.m., so I assume everyone is waiting to buy their first meal of the day. I decide I’m too excited to eat anything, and besides, the people in line must be dissatisfied with the menu. After reaching the front of the line, they just walk away, animatedly waving their hands, still holding their money.
I turn away from this distraction now and focus on the real excitement: the actual race. The women run first. They all line up side by side. Unfortunately, some of them forgot their running shorts. They must have thought they were participating in a swim meet today, and instead came dressed in their Speedo like bottoms.
The runners stretch and again stand in line. Suddenly a shot goes off, obviously scaring the runners, who start sprinting away from the gun. I guess the race has begun.
I stand at the finish line, and about fifteen minutes pass before I see the first WU runner return. She crosses the finish line and looks extremely tired. I run up to her to ask her questions before it’s too late (she looks like she’s about to pass out on the spot).
She tells me, “It was a tough race. There were some fast runners out there, but I just ran the best that I could.”
I remember my question about Wisconsin and ask her if she’s excited to run there:
“Oh, we’re not running TO Wisconsin,” she assures me. “But yes, after this race we have two more and then hopefully we will run in Wisconsin. I’m just taking it one race at a time.”
After the interview, I couldn’t have been happier-those were the exact cliches I was hoping she would say. Completely fulfilled, I decide I’m ready to go home. Although I’m understandably exhausted I’m also extremely eager to write a good article about the meet. After all, I can’t let all two of my faithful readers down.

Championship Ring Thief is Nabbed

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | Fox Yoakam

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

The championship ring thief has been caught ring-fingered. This statement is meant both figuratively and literally. The figurative meaning is that because he came to class on Thursday actually WEARING the ring, Cecil B. DeCollins, a.k.a. The Ring Thief, is behind campus bars tonight serving up shots of gin to giddy freshmen. This effort is just one part of a campus-wide initiative DeCollins agreed to join when he signed up for his latest cable channel.
I went into the bar to ask him a few questions, and if I can say nothing else, I’ll say this. DeCollins serves up one hell of an Irish Car Bomb. As Cecil explained it to me: “Well, this is what you do. You get eh pint of me lucky Guinness and yeh take a blarney shot of Jameson’s Fine Irish Whiskey and a just a wee touch or two of some type of me Irish Cream. I’ve heard Bailey’s is good. I’ll usually just use something like that, you know, whatever’s on sale. And then you take the shots and yeh drop ’em in the frickin’ glass and then you got to chug et! Pound! Pound Pound!”
Five Irish Car Bombs and 10 hours later, DeCollins had this to say about getting caught with the ring.
“Man, I’m such an idiot, I don’t know what I was doing. This sucks.”
In what way does it suck Cecil? I asked him to be more specific.
“Well, OK. The first time I saw the ring, I just knew I had to have it. It was a very elegant gold platinum band and since this was championship number four, it had four gems in it: two sparkling sapphires and a couple of gleaming emeralds alternating in each corner. It was impressive. In the middle it just had two very simple letters: WU.”
DeCollins showed Student Libel the tan line he acquired during his day with the ring.
“I remember that day so well,” he said. (It was yesterday.) “We had a picnic in Forest Park. We went to the art museum to see the new Van Gogh exhibit. Then we watched the sun set together over Art Hill. I never forget the way she glimmered in the twilight.”
And then?
“And then, I made the biggest mistake of my short, sweet life.”
And what was that?
“I thought it’s be fun to wear it to class. I mean, I was just so excited about the championship. I’ve got my championship number four free handout shirt and I’ve the one they gave out after last year’s championship, too. I took the ones from the first two championships to the Salvation Army already but I’m really starting to regret it. Can you do a favor for me and see if they’re there.”
Huh?
“Anyways, the girl in class to me was apparently on the team, in fact I think she was the leading scorer this year. Well, when she saw it, I think it was pretty obvious that the ring didn’t belong to me, since I am in fact, a male. I tried to cover my fist with my other hand, but I had one of the championship rings I stole last year on that hand. I was screwed!”
The player, Tonya Rutgers, said she had a hard time turning DeCollins in.
“Well, you know,” she said. “Cecil’s a great team. They really gave us one heck of a battle down the stretch there, but in the end, we were just too much for them.”
Was that where you guys were up by forty?
“Yeah, but you know, there was till like two minutes left and they still had their starters in. Cecil should be tough again next year.”
DeCollins understands why Rutgers had to turn him in.
“I mean, it’s not like I’m actually on the friggin’ team or anything, ye know?”
One more Irish Car Bomb. Serve it up, Cecil. Oh, and let me sings that ring finger again.
Cecil gets mad at me after that one, but I crack up and my belly jiggles.
“Very funny,” he says.
He flips me off. Next to the big middle finger, though, on its left, is just a nub. I lied about that tan line stuff! That was just a cover. I’ve been meaning to get back to you about that literal meaning.
See, Cecil B. DeCollins couldn’t bear a life without the championship ring on his finger. In class that day, he heard the WU-Po sirens closing in the distant. He got up and walked to the back of the room with a dejected stride. See, this was a shop class. DeCollins went for the table saw, and let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.
Cecil B. DeCollins’ ring finger, dead, at the age of 21. One more Irish Car Bomb, Cecil? Yeah, give me five. Hah.

Boulder Crushes Lizard, Toad Wins

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | It's A-Me, A-MarioSports Reporter
Web Master

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

An oversized green lizard on a miniature racing cart was smashed by a falling boulder on the Choco Mountain trail Friday afternoon.
The unexpected incident cost the lizard, named Yoshi, and its controller Michael Pospishil a first-place finish at Choco Mountain, the third leg of the Flower Cup circuit.
“I had run the perfect race,” said Pospishil, who fell to third in the cumulative standings after his disappointing second-place finish at Choco Mountain. “That boulder made the difference. If it hadn’t hit me, I could have cruised to an easy victory.”
“It’s a shame to have something so perfect and get fucked up in the end by a stupid rock.”
Anil Gupta, who overtook Pospishil to win the race, pointed to other factors that led to his victory.
“He’s a moron,” said Gupta, who was controlling Toad. “I was right on his ass anyway, and I had three red shells and a star.”
With the victory, Gupta takes sole possession of first place in the cumulative standings with 21 points. Popsicle drops to second with 18.
“He’s just not that good a player anyway,” said Gupta. “It’s okay, really. I’m sure he’s good at other things in life.”
“Just not this.”
According to Mario Kart rules, regulations and laws of physics, a lizard smashed by a Choco Mountain boulder will float for a few seconds in the air, flat as a newly sat-on pancake, until reaching the ground again, at which point the lizard’s regular dimensions and capabilities are restored.
“He always gets smashed by the boulders,” said Gupta.
Joey Regen, who had quit playing earlier because his car kept falling off the side of the mountain, agreed.
“He always gets smashed by the boulders,” said Regen.
Regen controlled Peach, routinely derided by the other players as being “the sissy car,” before throwing his controller across the room in a fit of frustration after being lapped for the second time.
The upcoming and final leg of the Flower Cup Circuit is Mario Raceway, a difficult course that boasts several sharp turns in addition to numerous weird mushroom-like obstacles that serve the same purpose as bumpers in pinball. Nevertheless, Pospishil remained optimistic about his chances of victory.
“I expect to linger in a close second place until the last lap, when the chances are good that I’ll get a star or some red shells with which to anally violate my adversary, thus allowing me to reign victorious,” he said.
“I expect him to linger in a distant, distant eighth for the duration, posing no real threat at any time,” said Gupta.

Track Coach Says: “Run Faster”

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | Joe Freshman
Web Master

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

Before this weekend’s meet at Case Western Reserve, Coach Eddie Edwards told both the men’s and women’s track teams that in order to win nationals, everyone had to run faster.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’ve looked at each individual’s performance as well as that of the team, and I’ve come to the conclusion that in order to compete in nationals we just need to run faster. I’m pretty sure that’s all we need to do,” said Edwards.

According to Edwards, the members of the team need to give exactly 110 percent more effort in order to win nationals.

“We just need to go out there and give 110 percent. That’s what we need to do, give 110 percent,” he said.

Edwards said that while some of his top runners have been giving the full 110 percent, others had only offered about 107 percent.

“That’s just not enough. You can’t win a race on 107 percent effort. You need to give that extra three percent. That is what separates the winners from our team,” he said.

Edwards cited the efforts of former runner Tim Julien, who had been known in recent years to give upwards of 120 percent during meets. According to Edwards, Julien led the team in recent years because he simply ran faster.

“Julien was fast. He was faster than the other runners and that’s why he won. If our runners would run faster as well, then they would win,” he said.

Several runners on the team agree.

“He really does have a point. I think I only gave about 108 percent last race, and I didn’t win. There were girls out there on other teams giving 109 and 110 percent,” said Junior Deia Berg. “If I had simply run a little bit faster, then I would have run the race.”

According to Edwards, the younger runners are having more trouble understanding his advice than many of the more experienced members of the team. He expects them to begin running faster, however.

“Many of the younger runners just aren’t running as fast as the older runners, so they aren’t placing as highly in the races,” he said. “The older runners have really helped them out, though and I think the younger runners are starting to understand that they need to give 110 percent.”

Although his coaching technique seems to be effective with runners, Edwards admits that he has had less success among other members of the track team.

“I can’t figure it out exactly, but running faster doesn’t seem to work as well with the kids who throw things, and not even with all of them that have to jump at some point,” he said. “I’m confident that they need to give 110 percent, but I’m not sure how, exactly.”

How was Your Year

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | Jane Smith

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

Jane Smith
How was your summer? What did you do? Did you go anywhere? Did you visit Mike?
Don’t the freshmen look younger this year? How many classes are you taking? What classes are you taking? Do you like them so far? When do you have lunch? What’s your major again? What are you going to do with that? Where are you living? Who are you living with? Do you like your roommate? What’s your number?
What are you doing this weekend?
Are you writing a thesis? Can you believe we are going to graduate?
Did you have fun at W.I.L.D.? Did you have fun at Fusion?
Are you doing anything for Fall Break? Did you see Diwali?
How was your break? What did you do? Who did you go with?
How are you classes going? Are you going abroad next semester?
Did you have fun at Eclipse? Are you going to dress up for Bauhaus? What are you going to be? Are you going to Sarah’s party before? How was Bauhaus? Did you dress up? What were you? Did you see the girl in body paint? Did you get really fucked up?
Are you going home for Thanksgiving? How was your Thanksgiving? Did you eat alot? Did you watch any football? Did you see Mike? Are you two still together?
What are you doing this weekend? When are you done with finals? Do you have mostly exams or papers? When are you going home? Are you doing anything? Are you going anywhere? Are you going to see Mike?
How was your break? What did you do? Where did you go? Did you visit Mike? Did you guys hook up a lot? Did you get a bid? Where? Do you like the girls?
How many classes are you taking? What classes are you taking? Are they the ones you wanted? When do you have lunch? What’s your major again? What are you going to do with that? Are you rushing?
Are you going to the Super Bowl party at Sarah’s? Who are you rooting for?
Do you know what you’re doing next year?
So did you leave Sarah’s party with Dave last night? So is he a good hookup? Does that mean that you and Mike are done? What are you doing this weekend?
Are you feeling better? How much does Health Services suck?
Is it cold or is it just me? Is it supposed to snow today?
How was your weekend? Did you get fucked up?
How is your thesis going? What are you doing it on? Are you almost done? Do you know what you’re doing next year? Do you know where you’re going to be?
Is Amy having fun in England? Are you going to visit her? Have you heard from Mike? Are you still with Dave? So you two are serious?
What are you doing this weekend? Do you know what you are doing next year? What are you doing for Spring Break? Can you believe how early break is? Are you going to Mardi Gras? So you and Dave are serious?
Is it hot or is it just me?
How was your break? Can you believe how fast the year is going by? Did you finish your thesis? Have you declared yet? What major? What are you going to do with that? Did you pick up your cap and gown?
Do you know what you’re doing next year? Do you know where you are going to be?
Did you go out last night? Are you going out tonight? What are you doing this weekend?
Are you going home for Passover? Did you go home? Was it fun?
Are you going home for Easter? Did you go home? Was it fun?
Who in your family is coming to graduation? Do you know who’s coming to W.I.L.D.? Do you know what you’re doing this summer? Are you excited about Thurtene? Are you in the play?
How are your classes going? Do you have a PF? Is it just me, or do the PF’s look really young?
Do you know what you’re doing next year? Where will you be? Will you be near Dave? Are you graduating this year? Just one major? What are you going to do with that?
What classes are you taking next year? Did you hear who’s coming to W.I.L.D.? Did you go to Heaven and Hell? Are you going to Sarah’s? Did you have fun at Sarah’s? Do you ever talk to Mike anymore?
Can you believe how fast the semester is going by? What are you doing this summer? Who are you taking to formal? What’s your dress look like? How’re you going to wear your hair?
Did you have fun at formal? Did you hook up?
Did you get the classes you wanted? Do you know what you’re doing next year? When are you done? Have you turned in your senior week form yet? Which events are you signing up for?
How was your interview? Did you get a signing bonus? When do you start?
When are you done with finals? What are you doing this summer? Where are you living next year? Who are you living with?
Can you believe we graduated?

Musings of a Mack

Friday, March 30th, 2001 | Jim-Dogg
Web Master

To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.

Check it: When it comes to the ladies, I am a Mack par excellence. I wine ’em, dine ’em-and when I’m through, I move on to the next. Bitches is bitches, as far as I’m concerned. I simply gets my swerve, then kicks ’em to the curb. And I’ve never had any complaints.
But I must be slippin’, because this chick in my psychology department is totally doggin’ me.
You know the one I mean-titties out to here, so much junk in the trunk I could set my drink on her ass. She sits two chairs in front of me, and I’ve had my eye on her for most of the semester. But last week, when I sidled up to her to offer her a heaping dose of my sweet lovin’, she turned me down. Point-blank. No hesitation. Just like that.
At first I thought maybe she misheard me-thought I was asking to borrow her notes or something. So two days later, I asked her again, and this time I made specific my intentions. “Girl, you look like some kind of freak,” I said. “So when are we gonna hump?”
She slapped me.
Damn.
Now, I know I’m a good looking guy. I wear fashionable, contemporary clothes. I keep my hair cut in the styles of my favorite television and movie celebrities. And fellow deans agree: My sideburns are absolutely to die for-mid-lobe in length, perfectly even, thick but not bushy. I put that guy on The Practice to shame.
Most women can’t keep their hands off me. I can count any number of strumpets on campus who’d sell their soul just to get into my pants. To paraphrase Snoop Doggy Dogg, I have to scratch women off my balls with my muthafuckin’ paws. And you know I settle for nothing less than the best. I don’t mess with any B-rate women. Uh uh. I’ve got nothing against all those easy, sleazy women out there. But why drink Kool Aid when you can sip champagne?
Ya dig?
All this is completely new to me. I’ve never been rejected. Never. Not once. Like I said before, when it comes to corralling the fillies, I’ve always come correct.
So I have to ask myself, Who is this girl to give me the cold shoulder? Who is she to deny me my ber-player status? Doesn’t she know whom she’s dealing with, here?
I know I shouldn’t fret over this. There’s definitely plenty more fish in the sea, most of whom I could easily bait. But I can’t get the thought out of my mind that maybe my days as Washington University’s premier bachelor are over. Is this the beginning of the end? Will the Era of Ass-Getting and Female Objectification soon melt into air? Will I remain a playa? And, if so, will I continue to crush alot?
I’m not gonna lie: I’m scared. Real scared.
You know what? I shouldn’t even sweat this chick. I mean, yeah, she definitely dogged me (and so effortlessly, too!). But so what? Such a fact only slightly diminishes my sexual prowess, which all will attest far eclipses that of any other male on this campus.
Still, though, I have to protect my reputation, which could be severely damaged by the revelations I’ve put forth in this column. I have an image to preserve, the foundation of which will surely crumble if my advances should be met again with such swift and impartial rejection.
My only recourse, now, is to revisit my playa days of yore-to initiate, in short, a sexual renaissance. It’s time once again to kick it old- school style. Standing aloft but alone atop the apex of libidinous sensual indulgence has left lethargic my once spry skills as a Mack. I need not be slapped again to know that. And while 90 percent of women at WU are still yearning for me to give them The Business, I must strive for more.
Consider this my manifesto, a kind of Jerry Maguire-esque memorandum to reform the principles that define my sexual bravado. I want each and every girl (including but not limited to that stingy heifer in my psychology class) to crave the carnal bliss only I can provide. I want once again to cast my lecherous gaze upon a group of women and know, in my heart of hearts, that they not only want, but need the thunder of my loins.
Let it be known:
The Mack is back.