Yes, I know all about the Squelch’s history, the people who made it the journalistic monument it is today, all that crap. I used to be Editor-in-Chief. I was somebody then. I thought I would be somebody forever. But now I’m just another pathetic, washed-out graduate begging for jobs I don’t want and paying rent with a credit card. I’ve long since sold my diploma to a guy who resells them, but I didn’t get much; I was only an English major.
But sure, I’ll reminisce for a moment about the good old days of the Squelch. Frankly, I’ve never heard of a paper publishing a “best of” issue after only three years, but I won’t criticize. Hell, I need the five bucks anyway. Actually, I’d probably be able to get a decent job now if I hadn’t wasted all my undergraduate years with this damn paper. Back then, I may have been stupid, but at least I was happy. Anyway, things were pretty crazy when the Squelch began. At that time, there were no restrictions on what student groups could spend their money on and we usually allocated most of funds to the purchase of hard liquor. We always served beer at staff meetings in Dwinelle and were often passed out when the German class met the next morning. Those were good times. But the Heuristic Squelch wasn’t all mirth and revelry. It was hardwork and we never copped out by filling an issue with old material. We knew what comedy was and we cared about it. And if we had older editors who had passed the paper on to us, we would have sent them our old issues once in awhile (unlike some ungrateful bastards I could name.) But I try just to think of the good times.
Like the time I convinced my co-editor Randy (who is finally out on probation) to sneak into Doe library with me. We had a great time that night, wall-papering the reference room with copies of our latest issue. Anyway, Randy was still in his tequila phase and he had to bring a bottle with him wherever he went. Of course, he spilled some on a few books, causing me to laugh so hard that I dropped my cigarette on the same spot and started a small fire. Obviously, we were laughing too hard to do any more wall-papering and we barely got out in time to stand around and watch the fire fighters. There were only a few deaths; it was one of the most hilarious nights of my life.
Dan, my other co-editor, was in charge of advertising and really knew how to get those ads. Often, he would print a store’s ad without asking and subsequently demand money for it. He was a scary looking guy with big hair and a tattoo on his face, so we made a lot of money. We were so rich, we didn’t mind when we found out about the thousands he’d embezzled from us. I don’t blame him for going to Rio. Every now and then, he sends a post card from the estate. I’m just glad one of us is happy. I’m sure I’ll find something to laugh about one of these days, but it won’t be this reprinted crap. You want real comedy? Come with me to a job interview. That’ll make you pee your pants; I guarantee it. I sincerely hope the Squelch bestows the same job opportunities on the current editors that it has bestowed upon me. Jesus, I need a drink.
Dave Sherman, known as Horny Bison to the Sioux nation, founded the Squelch in 1991 as apart of his bizarre plot to take over the world. He failed. After a brief period of incarceration, he is currently very unemployed. Donations & correspondence may be sent tot he Squelch.
