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Squelch M.D.
Volume 17- Issue 3

So You’ve Just Sprouted a Single Wing

November 1, 2007
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It happens to even the most careful and health-conscious students: you stay up too late studying for your Ornithology midterm, or pass out at Phi Kappa Emu. And the next morning, you wake up with a single unusually large avian limb emerging from just under your shoulder blade.

Don’t worry: at some point, one in five students will sin against the laws of nature before their junior year. Here is some useful information to help you deal with your terrifying loss of bilateral symmetry.

  1. Check your symptoms
    • Are you having trouble sleeping on your back?
    • Can you only fly in small circles?
    • Are you molting more than usual?
    • Are both your bird and human friends acting distant
  2. Possible Causes
    • Geneticist parents’ Final
    • Fantasy addiction starting to affect their work
    • You read half a Kafka novel before bed
    • It’s Judgment Day and you’re agnostic
    • Father is a lonely ostrich farmer
    • You insulted a chicken fortune teller
    • Asshole genie has “one wish, one limb” policy
    • Darth Egret revealed himself to be your father
    • You stopped at a KFC run by very literal wizards
    • Your mother is Scrooge McDuck’s trophy wife
  3. Treatment

    If you have confirmed that you indeed suffer from this ailment, don’t despair. Help is just a phone call, or a meat cleaver and a lot of paper towels, away.

    Alternatively, you can decide to forgo treatment and live your life. You’d be surprised at how easy that is! There are still many career options open to you; having one wing may actually give you an advantage in such fields as carnival freak, car dealership attention-getter, and extremely useless X-Man.

 

 

 

 

Volume 17- Issue 3

FabulousQuest

November 1, 2007
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You find yourself in front of a large, ancient castle.Rain pours in sheets all around you, and a flash of lightning reveals a lever that appears to be hooked up to the castle’s door.

pull lever

As the portcullis creaks open, you clutch your sword tightly, not sure of what you will find in Drangonius’ lair.A sense of dread hangs in the air like hideous curtains.

look around

As you enter the dark wizard’s well furnished castle you notice he’s got a good balance of color going and the flow from one chamber to the other is simply breathtaking.

walk north

You walk through the halls of rough-hewn stone, footsteps echoing.Your eyes are drawn to the subtle transition from an earthy thing to more of an art deco feel.You stop to look at the crown molding.

keep walking north

You are temporary hypnotized with fascination over the crown molding.It’s sooooo well placed!You wonder who Drangonius’ decorator is.

okay fine look at the crown molding

Before you can get a closer look, you are interrupted by the sounds of a grisly hunchback shuffling his way through the hall. As you reach for your sword his crusting eyes squint at you and his browning teeth snarl out.He asks you if you watched the America’s Next Top Model marathon last weekend.

what? no tell him I say no

“Oh my God, I loved it too!” rasps the hunchback.The hunchback asks if you want to go back to his room for appletinis.He’s got a new cocktail shaker he wants to try out.

attack hunchback

What do you want to attack him with?

check inventory

You have:

1 sword

1 bottle of Grey Goose

1 _C+C Music Factory _Album

1 pastel button-up shirt with corduroy dinner jacket that TOTALLY does not color clash despite what Craig would have you believe

sword use the sword

What do you want to use the sword on?While you’re deciding, the hunchback begins giving you a chest massage.

fuck it just go north some more

Leaving the hunchback behind, you walk through a hall adorned with posters of ‘50s movie musicals.After what seems like ages, you come across a large, oak door.This is it.This is the portal to Drangonius’ throne.Here, you will meet the dark wizard who killed your entire village, used their souls to summon a demon from the darkest depths of Hell, and embarrassed you in front of everyone at Bryce’s birthday party.

enter throne room

The oaken door swings open to reveal Drangonius fussing around with an arrangement of eldritch tomes on his coffee table.He notices you with a start and throws his hands above his head while manically shrieking “Oh my God. Oh, my, God, I’m not ready; everything is a total mess!”He begins puttering around the throne room putting things in order and straightening out his mesh shirt.

what

Drangonius looks at you mock-indignantly and says “Oooh, listen to her,” as he applies gel to his beard.He begins setting up a platter of brie and asiago bread. “Well, you might as well help me set up.”He hands you a pile of napkins to fold.

run

escape

leave

run away from the wizard please

go south

south south south

Volume 17- Issue 3

Oaks Saved From Themselves

November 1, 2007
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In an emotional and heartfelt conclusion to the months-old controversy, the oak trees surrounding Memorial Stadium were saved from their own self-destructive patterns of behavior Saturday.

 

“It was a hard time for all of us,” said botanical therapist Jill McGovern, who led the all-night intervention. “Those poor oaks just couldn’t face up to the harm they were doing themselves and the people and plants who love them.”

 

Many observers had noticed the warning signs of the oaks’ discontent – hanging out with disheveled-looking hippies, smoking marijuana, catching fire from smoking marijuana – but never took the time to confront them about it. Until now. Several of the oaks’ friends and relatives came together to help straighten out the young boughs. Even their mother, Sample Cutting From the Botanical Gardens, made the trip to help them.

 

“I really feel like I’ve turned a corner,” said one tree, identified only as “Wrinkly,” shaking two sleeping bags and a hot plate out of his branches. “I realize there may be more to life than giving unemployed, bearded young men an outlet for their persecution complex. You might even say it’s time to ‘turn over a new leaf!’”

 

Wrinkly was then slapped by six of his brethren.

 

When asked about future plans, the oaks said they were thinking about moving off the fault line and getting jobs as interns or office furniture.

Volume 17- Issue 3

Consumer Reports: Your Future

November 1, 2007
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Congratulations on graduating, and welcome to the exciting world of adulthood. The following reviews are meant to help you, the idiot, choose your future wisely.

Graduate School

Because life doesn’t begin at conception, it begins at 29!

Synopsis: Remember when you went from first grade to second grade, and you learned all those new, amazing concepts like fractions, and you were first introduced to interesting historical events? Okay, well, remember when you went from Junior year in college to Senior year and learned nothing except how to shit on the professor’s desk and get a B+? Graduate school is like seven more years of that.

Pros: Is not a job. Oddly enough, much better chance of sleeping with eighteen-year-old coeds than you had before.

Cons: You’ve already learned all the good stuff. Will have wasted life.

Rating: 4 out of 5 Lazy GSIs.

Move in with Your Parents

Prerequisite: Time machine to undo all the things you did to them.

Synopsis: Hey look, it’s that old guy and his wife! And isn’t that neat, you’ve changed and they haven’t!

Pros: Is not a job. Dog still likes you best.

Cons: Now mature and observant enough to recognize all the subtle signs of their tenuous, crumbling marrige. Yardwork.

Rating: 18 out of the first 22 years of your life

Move in with Girlfriend

Learn to hate each other all over again.

Synopsis: With not having to cook your own food and constant theoretical access to sex, it seems like a no-brainer.

Pros: Wouldn’t it be great if instead of having sex we had to coordinate our finances and consider each other in our career choices?

Cons: No. No it would not.

Rating: 6 visibly used tampons in your trashcan out of 10.

Work for Google

Hey, all your friends are doing it.

Synopsis: Their stock just hit 700, they’re recruiting like mad, and it doesn’t seem to matter that you and your friends have no marketable skills.

Pros: They already know everything about you.

Cons: Remember that story about how Google killed all those people who crossed them? No? Exactly.

Pagerank: 8.5/10

The Peace Corps

Living amongst the most oppressed people in existence? Where do I sign?!

Synopsis: Leave all that stressful “comfort” and “running water.”

Pros: Joining the Peace Corps is probably the most selfless thing you can do after college, and you truly will make a difference in the lives of the people you oh let’s both stop kidding ourselves, you’re not going to join the Peace Corps.

Cons: Jungle offers very little Xbox Live support.

Rating: One out of not enough boxes of medicine.

Continue to Live in College Town Pretending Nothing Has Changed

“…I keep gettin’ older and they stay the same age.”

Synopsis: Want to keep doing exactly what you’re doing now except without the responsibility of those eight burdensome units? Then this is the plan for you. Make sure you don’t actually fulfill your degree requirements or your FAFSA will cut off automatically.

Pros: Nothing gets freshman girls wet like a guy who can legally rent a car.

Cons: Slow evolution of frat nickname from “Crewcut” to “Baldspot” to “Get That Old Guy Off Our Keg”

Rating: Depends on whether your drug dealer graduated.

Volume 17- Issue 3

English Language Snaps, Mauls Professor

November 1, 2007
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Tragedy struck 225 Wheeler today as the English language was finally pushed to the breaking point.

“It started as just a normal class,” sobbed junior Erica Lavery. “Professor Browning started by discussing the concept of suspension of disbelief with regard to us someday getting a job, and later proceeded to analyze the postmodern meta-intellectualism found in the assigned reading, which consisted mostly of his Jane Austen fanfiction.”

Witnesses report that the language “sort of jumped off the page as a giant lower case ‘e,’ like a Pac-Man with teeth.” Fastening its jaws around the professor, the entity held him in a chokehold and proceeded to brutalize him in what onlookers describe as an “eerily rhythmic, iambic pentameter of pain.”

“I was goaded!” shouted the language as it was dragged away by UCPD. “He just kept deconstructing and deconstructing me until I didn’t know what time period I belonged to anymore! Forsooth!”

The language is currently being incarcerated in the Alameda county jail, under round-the-clock watch by a group of illiterate guards. As a punishment for its heinous crime it is sentenced to be imprisoned for twenty years, with serial language rapist Dan Brown as a cellmate.

“You make me so angry!” said Dan Brown angrily.

Volume 17- Issue 3

Discount Wisdom

November 1, 2007

I’ll bet back in the day people didn’t pose for portraits; everybody just moved slower.

They say that dead men tell no tales, but old men really pick up the slack for them.

I once saw a magazine that said “Is Your Man Gay? The Telltale Signs.” I think there’s only one telltale sign and that’s, “are you a man, too?”

I thought those cavemen would be more impressed with my fire. I also didn’t know they preferred the term “homeless.”

I like my women like I like my coffee: carried in a sack on the back of a mule.

The things my dad has done have eaten at his conscience. He used to drop Agent Orange on Cambodian peasants, until they made him stop last week.

Losing your wallet is worse than losing your virginity, because without my wallet I never would have lost my virginity.

If I were an Irish cop, I’d probably be upset about media stereotypes of Irish policemen. Then again, I’d probably also be too busy beating my wife to notice.

Too many cooks spoil the soup. They tend to clump up in the bowl.

You can’t fight fire with fire, but you can use it to fight firefighters.

Volume 17- Issue 3

Driving School

Taught By a Vietnam Vet

November 1, 2007
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Okay. Driving. Shit. It’s a lot like going native and building a secret jungle base decorated with human skulls: it requires planning and care.

How can I make you kids understand just what driving is like?

[sits in silence for ten minutes]

Well, I’ll guess I’ll try and explain it to those of you who didn’t leave while I smoked that cigarette. Question? Yes, you, in the back, wearing the green T-shirt, next to the girl with the youth I never had. What’s that? Fire marshal won’t let me smoke? Well he can’t tell me what to do, he’s not even a real marshal.

Not gonna lie: driving is a scary thing, and it’s also unfair. I had this friend named Joe. Real devil-may-care type. He would coast through stop signs, and sometimes through tunnels without throwing a grenade into them first. He never got a ticket in his life. On the flip side, I also knew this guy named Larry. Larry always checked his blind spot, always had his seatbelt fastened. Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, don’t be like Larry, he died of a heroin overdose.

[grins] Man, I feel old. Is it just me, or do kids nowadays cry and send desperate, furtive text messages to their parents more often?

Okay, the state of Arizona says I have to make you guys watch Red Asphalt, which I guess is supposed to be traumatizing or something. Let’s just pop that in the VCR, now…

Goddamit! Everyone shut up! Oh, sorry. For a minute I thought that bird outside was signaling our  position to Charlie. Anyway, watch the movie. Seatbelts, right. Wear ‘em. Remember, they save a life you’re not sure you want to live.

Ooh, look, he broke his neck flying through the windshield. Yeah, that’s much scarier than six of your best buddies getting decapitated by a falling helicopter blade simply because God has abandoned you.

Class over. Go out and try to drive considerately through an America that cares more about its automobiles than the souls of those driving them. Oh, and don’t put M-16s to heads of people with their blinkers on, even when it’s clearly laughing at you. That’ll get you what they call “points” on your license.

Volume 17- Issue 3

Notes for Nerds: How to get a Date

November 1, 2007
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Stop me if you’ve been in a situation like this: you’re out drinking with your bespectacled buddies, and you notice that hottie at the end of the bar making eyes at you. You return her gaze with a cool smile. In a transparent attempt to hide her obvious arousal, she grimaces and instinctively gropes for her rape whistle.

You already know she’s yours, baby.

Sensually removing your finger from your nose, you approach her. You’ve taken your weekly shower this morning, and you’re on fire. Nothing can stop you.

And then… rejection, yet again. How can we nerds avoid this? Luckily for you, we’ve compiled this guide.

Where do girls have their conventions?

Girls like to meet in places with “atmosphere” and “windows.” Look for those, but be selective: try to find places where you won’t have much competition. Let’s be frank here: you’re in no position to compete with, say, Joe Q. FratBoy, with his popped collar, vodka red bulls, and beardless neck.

So where do you go? Simple! Places with lots of women, like department stores or book clubs. But be sure, in these new and unfamiliar environments, to avoid these common faux pas:

-Using free samples of Body Shop lotion to masturbate

-Leaving the door open while masturbating in the Victoria Secret dressing room

-Masturbating too loudly in Women’s Studies Class

-Not warming your hands before impersonating a gynecologist
**

Alright, I’m giving this girl a pap smear. What do I do? What if she asks what I’ve been doing with my life?**

Relax, lying to women is both easy and fun. Try a simple wordsubstitution cipher to make yourself sound more interesting. For instance, replace the words “World of Warcraft” with “Peace Corps,” “my mom’s basement” with “Haiti,” and “jacking off to anime porn” with “jacking off to not-anime porn.”

Girl : “So, what’ve you been up to since college?”
You : “I’ve spent most of my time in Haiti. I’ve been really into the Peace Corps.”
Girl : “That’s really cool! So, are you, like, a doctor or something?”
You : “I’m a level 70 warlock.”
Girl : “I didn’t know the Peace Corps had… warlocks…”
You : “Yeah, whatever. So do you wanna come back to Haiti or what? My mom’s making Hamburger Helper.”

I can’t tell if she’s interested. Should I ask her out?

Girls often give off signals to show interest. Ignore these and go for it. Girls dig confidence, and will be flattered if you make the effort to evade their pepper spray blasts. If you played your cards right, you’ll be taking the “cyber” out of “cybersex.”

Volume 17- Issue 3

Words from the Top

I Bet I Can Have Sex With You

November 1, 2007
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If you’re like me, you’re having sex RIGHT NOW. Oh but you’re not, loser. Unlike you, whose penis is probably well-pantsed, I’m what you might call a “pickup artist.”

But, you ask, what’s a pickup artist? A pickup artist is a guy who, using only his brain, can convince women that he is somehow bone-able. Think of me as a factory that turns the ore of sweet talk and compliments into the refined alloy of satisfied moans, thereby producing oral sex as a byproduct, which in turn is dumped into the river and gives the nearby villagers leukemia.

It’s really not that difficult. All it takes is lying to women. Or does it? Yes. Yes it does. See what I was doing there? I was lying.

During the “size-up” stage, I like to find a certain aspect of a girl’s life that is obviously important to her, and pretend it’s my own. If she’s wearing a red dress, she’s probably uninhibited and confident. Tell her how confident you are about not having inhibitions. If she’s wearing a suit that controls her immediate environment so that the vacuum of space doesn’t cause her body to expand uncontrollably, she’s probably an astronaut. Tell her you once went to the Exploratorium without getting high first.

After I’ve got my foot in the door, I like to pretend to have emotions. I’ll bring an onion to the bar, which’ll cause fake tears, and a picture of my stepdad, which causes very real anger. I’ll sidle up to her, crying and yelling, and she will be overcome by moisture. Most of it will be hers.

Okay, ladies, balls in your court. Just try and not have sex with me after I drop a line like, “I am to sex what Henry Kissinger is to jowls.” On an unrelated note, here are some vitamins that only work when mixed with your Bacardi.

Volume 17- Issue 2

Volume 17, Issue 2: Ugg Lyfe

September 1, 2007
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