Latest Issue
Volume 33, Issue 1:
The HEURISTIC! Squelch

US Troops Unaware of Facebook Support

Despite boasting 96 members, the UCB Facebook group “Support Our Troops” has had little to no discernible effect on the morale of US troops stationed in Iraq. When asked how the support from Berkeley Facebook members was aiding in the war effort, Army Pfc. Jason Gilmore replied “to be honest, I wasn’t aware these guys existed. I mean, it’s cool they joined that group and all, but that doesn’t do a whole lot about these roadside bombs.” Upon completing the interview Gilmore was blown up by an eight year old to whom he was handing candy. Support Our Troops group members responded to the tragedy by poking one another, patriotically.

Volume 15, Issue 1: Classics 4A: Legends, Tales, and Fabled Quests

To All Incoming UC Extension Students

Welcome Almost Berkeley Students.

Congratulations
on your “legitimate” acceptance. Looks like all
that hard work finally made up for you being at
least a semester dumber than your peers! I mean
sure, you were president of your graduating class
and led the league in goals for varsity soccer,
but your inferior 3.8 GPAs and 1350 SAT scores
will earn you about as much respect here as a
transfer from SC or a sheepdog enrolled at Davis.

Your only use is as a buffer for the rest of us
super-geniuses. I don’t want to worry about
failing Intro Math, Chem, or Econ while I’m having
threesomes with Brazilian supermodels and winning
Ultimate Fighting Championships. But with your
dismal threes on the AP exams, I know that no
matter how much crime I’m fighting or your mothers
I’m banging, I’ll keep getting A’s while you keep
turning into graduate students in the school of
education. I’d wipe my festering ass cheeks on
your popped collar Lacoste polo shirt after taking
a satisfying Mexican dump if I didn’t have any
respect for my ass. If it were up to me, I would
brand “Fuck Tard” on all of your foreheads and
make you wear a scarlet letter of shame denoting
your stupidity wherever you go. Just like in that
one book, The Scarlet You’re a Fucking Fuck Tard.

Thirty years from now, when you are a broken soul
drinking whiskey at a local dive bar in Scranton,
Ohio, while we actual alumni win Nobel prizes and
beat the Dalai Lama at arm wrestling, you’ll
lament to the other barflies how you should have
gone to the honors program at UCLA instead, and
that maybe, just maybe then you wouldn’t have
impregnated your underage cousins. A tear will
flow down your rugged cheek as you retire to your
single room in some roach infested motel with a
flashing neon sign indicating permanent vacancy.

You’ll pass by Jenna, the sixty-year-old starlet
who never quite made it, her face caked in makeup,
always pretending to audition for leading roles in
big productions on Broadway in front of her dirty
mirror. You’ll hear your door unlock as you expel
a heavy sordid sigh filled with apprehension for
the coming night tremors and blistering
loneliness. A single crisp envelope will lie at
the foot of your door. A message from your doctor
stating simply: “You have pancreatic cancer, two
months maximum.” It is at that precise moment, at
the absolute lowest point in your life that I will
burst through the door with my bulging oiled
biceps and long beautiful locks of hair flowing in
the wind. I will walk up to you, and you will look
upon my vest, adorned with purple hearts and
medals of honor, and know that I, Daniel Brady, a
true Berkeley alumni, President of the World and
Destroyer of Mars, am better than you in every
possible way. In a flash I will deal you a
crushing blow to the head with my rock solid legs.
I will mount on top of my futuristic dinosaur
adorned with medieval armor, the pope’s wife in a
skimpy bathing suit cradled in my arms. As I
saunter toward the sunset leaving a trail of dead
robotic sharks in my wake, a smirk will cut across
my face as I realize that once and for all, I am
the greatest ninja that ever existed.

Clean my
hole with your tongues,
Daniel Brady

What If George Lucas Wrote Shakespeare

Romeo and Juliet
Act II, Scene 2
Romeo: But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is one of the suns of Tattoine’s binary star
system. And therefore I love her.

Hamlet
Act 3, Scene 1
Tiny Green cgi Hamlet: To be or to be not, the question that is.

The Tragedy of King Richard the Third
Act V, Scene 4
King Richard III: A horse! A horse! I really want a horse!

Romeo and Ju– oh fuck it, George
Lucas actually wrote this shit.
Seriously, this exact shit:
Anakin: You are so… beautiful.
Padme: It’s only because I’m so in love.
Anakin: No, it’s because I’m so in love
with you.
Padme: Are you saying love has blinded
you?
Anakin: [laughs] Well, that’s not exactly
what I meant.
Padme: But it’s probably true.
Jar-Jar Binks: [racial epithet deleted]

MapQuest Version 2.0

When you’re not sure how to get somewhere, a quick visit to MapQuest.com can save you lots of time and give you clear, precise directions.
If you have a good car.
But what if you don’t drive one of those brand-new, fancy-pants imports that can pass a smog test? What if your car, you know, has a door held on by a seatbelt? MapQuest is here for you too, and it’ll even tell you how to get from point A to point B and not go over any bridges with toll booths because you can’t roll your windows down and the driver’s side door doesn’t open.

Start: Long Beach
End: San Diego
Problem: Registration expired for two years.

Ideal Route: Take the 5 South and stay in the far right lane of traffic. Look for an ’89 minivan going 45
with a bumper sticker for “89.1 El Sol!” or something like that. Get in front of that minivan for the rest
of the trip. Invariably, that minivan will have expired tags that far outstrip yours. The lesser of two evils
rarely gets registration tickets.

Start: Your parents’ house
End: 76 Station a mile away
Problem: Have to get more oil, because you always have to get that shit.

Ideal Route: Take Orange Avenue all the way up to sixth. Then stall, and start smoking. Call your car a
“piece of shit, you’re such a piece of shit.” Dial a friend and tell him it happened again. Walk home.

Start: Your friend’s apartment
End: Your weed dealer’s house
Problem: You’re out of weed.

Ideal Route: Take the 5 freeway North and exit at Broadway. Stop at the Bank of America there and open a goddamned checking account. Deposit the money wadded up in the pocket of your wrinkled cargos. Now save up and buy a car that costs more than three hundred dollars next time.

Start: Your friend’s parents house
End: A house party in Pacific Beach
Problem: There are a lot of hills in Pacific Beach. Hills that stop ’84 Corollas with a bum clutch.

Ideal Route: Exit at Garnet Avenue and take the first left. When you come to the Safeway, turn into the
parking lot and get high. (Note: MapQuest does not endorse the use of illegal drugs, but rather, knows you were going to do
that anyway.) Go two blocks south and take a right at Citrus. Stop to look for the piece of paper with the
address on it. Fail to find it, call a bunch of people, then give up and go get rolled tacos at El Pastor.

Start: Your parents’ house
End: Your job
Problem: Job?

Ideal Route: Exit the 805 freeway South at H Street, then continue on the road for 3.5 miles. Take a
right into the first parking lot. Congratulations, you’re back at Southwestern college. Take eight units
and your parents will start giving you money again.

Douglas Unger’s Roommate Questionnaire

(1) SEX
Male
Female
First one, then the other
Both (specify/draw a picture) ________

(2) OCCUPATION
Quiet, Reflective, Full-Time Student
Professional Whisperer
Tiptoeologist
Drummer with Access to Prescription Sleep Aids

(3) COOKING EXPERIENCE
Confectionary Major
Watched enough Iron Chef to get the gist
Grilled cheese ala waffle iron
Tin cans make the microwave go fzzt

(4-5) FAMILY
4. Do You have any sisters? Are any of them hot? What is her cell phone #?

  1. Do you have any brothers? If not, why?

    (6) ETHNICITY

Chinese

Korean

Japanese

Filipino

Thai

Samoan

Vietnamese

Laotian

Cambodian

Malaysian

Burmese

Nepalese

Taiwanese

Cardassian

Indonesian

Hmong

Tibetan

Tongan

Fijian

Guamanian

Polynesian

Ethnically native Hawaiian

Note: You thieving Maori Tribesman need not apply.

(7-9) PERSONAL HABITS
7. Usually get up at:
7:00 AM 7:00 PM11:00 PMJanuary
8. Usually go to bed at:
7:00 AM 7:00 PM1:00 PMJanuary

  1. Usually shower at:
    7:00 AM 7:00 PM1:00 PMMicrowave in shower goes ZRZRKRKRKBK-BOOM!

    (10) TRUE-FALSE

T

F –
Dirty clothes belong properly in the dirty clothes hamper.

T

F –
By “hamper” I mean floor

T

F –
Hanky-Panky is not acceptable in the apartment or Scrabble.

T

T –
It gets damn hot during the summer.

T

F –
Structuralism provides that true implies false and false implies true.

The lease agreement releases the landlord of liability for any damages due to “flood, fire, earthquake, theft, or acts of God.” Discuss.

How Drunk Were You?

To quote every freshman in the history of ever: “I
was SOOOO drunk!” Problem is, there is no
objectivity to this claim. There are no gold
medals and no Jeopardy champions in the game of
Drunk. So how close can we ever come to explaining
this phenomenon of the lampshade-wearing,
sexual-favor giving, arrested-getting inebriate?

Simple: a comparison in five easy stages. Follow
along if you’re stage 3 or below.

ONE
Get your buzz on — 1 to 3 drinks

Congratulations, you’re just like a: British
person

Every now and then, you’re speaking so quickly
that your words run together a little bit. You
start saying uncharacteristic things like “thanks
love.” (Note: you do not start addressing people
as “queen” until roughly stage 3, when a fight is
forthcoming) For reasons passing explanation, you
start talking at length about politics and
culture. You start to think that maybe bad teeth
aren’t that big a deal.

TWO
Feelin’ no pain, or tact — 4 to 5 drinks

Congratulations, you’re just like a: Sex offender
on probation

You’re compelled to go around the area and
introduce yourself to everyone. You’re chatting
with girls/boys, but still cautious about groping.
You want to lure that special someone back to your
van, but probably shouldn’t. Damned if you’re not
trying to ignore the demon voices in your head
that tell you to do the things.

THREE
Faded — 6 to 9 drinks
Congratulations, you’re just like an:
Eighty-year-old Handicapped billionaire in a strip
club

You no longer feel the need to impress people or
act charming. Wild rounds of boasting are followed
by inappropriate sexual advances. “Heavy” girls
become “busty.” Motor control is spotty at best.
You can’t even remember when you had bladder
control. Special Bonus: After drink no. 8, you’re
confined to a chair for the foreseeable future.

FOUR
Doin’ a little side-to-side shuffle-dance — 10 to
14 drinks

Congratulations, you’re just like: Michael J. Fox

You shake and squirm quite a bit, but maintain a
huge smile on your face. Sentences are tough to
form, and are accompanied by wild gesticulations
to help make the point. People are always telling
you how brave you are, but in your case, it’s
because you took a swing at a cop and took off into
the neighbor’s backyard.

FIVE
You look like a hobo’s jockstrap — 15 drinks and
up

Congratulations, you’re just like a: Celtic Druid,
circa 1000 B.C.

You’re not speaking anything that sounds remotely
like English. You smell bad and regularly forage
for food. When presented with a simple technology
like a cell phone, you futilely poke at it and
wonder exactly where inside it the sun and planets
are hiding. You wake up in the morning to find an
animal chewing/humping on you. You have the plague.

If Relationships Ended Like 8-Bit Videogames

You: Honey, I’m home–what are you doing with that letter?
Her: [reading from letter] THIS RELATIONSHIP IS OVER.
You: What the fuck? I put all this time into it and all I get is a lousy note?
Her: PRODUCER – TAKESHI AKANAWA. PROGRAMMER – GO
SAKASHI.


You: Look Samus, this just isn’t working out.
Samus: Well, since we’re done, there’s something you should know…
[takes off helmet]
You: W–wait, you’re a hot girl?!
Samus: If you’d dumped me in under three hours you could have seen me in a bikini.


You: Darling, I love you very much, but I–I’ve met someone else. I’m
so sorry.
Her: Oh yeah?! Well remember when I said you were the best I ever
had?
You: Uh huh…
Her:

| 1. TOM…25,357 pts
2. STV…21,366 pts
3. BOB…17, 245 pts
4. ASS…14,453 pts
5. AAA…12,495 pt
6. ENTER INITIALS
Winners don’t use drugs. |

Signs Your Professor is Moonlighting as a Bookie

  1. He takes notes when the handicapped students are talking
  2. Forty year old in the front row still talks too much, but about keeping his thumbs
  3. Pete Rose is scheduled to be a guest lecturer
  4. Office hours held in bar at Caesar’s Palace
  5. Most of your statistics homework revolves around Brett Favre’s throwing percentage
  6. Keeps asking you to start his car for him while he waits behind a brick wall
  7. GSIs keep talking about
  8. You got a 93% on last test, but got a B- for failing to beat the spread
  9. Instead of taking half a grade each day your paper is late, breaks your knees
  10. Keeps trying to make you double-down on your final grade

Satan Comes to Berkeley

In English R1B Class
Satan: The mortal Jay Gatsby, like all other men before him, finds solace from the trials of his world in the path of sin!
GSI: Excellent, Satan! Class, see how he juxtaposes Judeo-Christian elements with the dynamics of post-feminist queer theory?
Satan: Fool! I am doing no such thing! Your vile words shall drown in everlasting fire!
GSI: Now, now, Satan, you made an excellent point, but this is an open discussion. Let the rest of the class speak.
Satan: Bah! Whatever force placed me here is an evil one indeed! Curse my score of four on the Advanced Placement literature exam!

At Shattuck Cinemas With a Very Special Mortal Lady
Girlfriend: So how’d you like Garden State?
Satan: A thousand curses upon it! I found the narrative both cliched and meandering!
Girlfriend: [huffily] Well, Satan, I liked it. I guess archdaemons of despair like you just aren’t sensitive enough to appreciate it.
Satan: [To himself] Hmm. Human females seem to put great value on sensitivty. Perhaps I should change my tack.
Satan: [Out Loud] I did, however, find the performance of the mortal Zach Braff to be both subtle and nuanced!
Girlfriend: Really! Oh my god! Me too! We should make out!
Satan: KISS ME ON ONE OF MY THOUSAND FANGED MAWS!

Deciding What to Study
Peer Advisor: So, Satan, decided on a major yet?
Satan: I shall major in history!
Peer Advisor: Uh huh. And what do you plan to do with that?
Satan: Ha! What do I plan to do with that! A foolish question with a facile, obvious answer! I shall use my knowledge of human institutions to hasten their demise! I shall wreak untold havoc on your puny world!
Peer Advisor: So law school, then.
Satan: Do you think my GPA is good enough?

At a Certain House on Warring Street
Satan: Hmm…this “Delta Kappa Epsilon” has great potential for evil! Arcane greek symbols, brutal hazing, drunken debauchery… I shall sow the seeds of immorality on this fertile patch of earth and reap the fruits of madness and depravity!
Frat guy: : Woo!
Satan: Woo indeed, mortal.
Frat guy: : Dude, Satan. You gotta try this stuff, it’ll blow your mind.
Satan: My mind is an unfathomable cosmos of pure evil. It cannot be blown by mere pharmaceutical tablets.

[3 hours later]
Frat guy: : Yeah, Satan, keep rubbing my back like that.
Satan: It’s just… everything feels so… ahhhh. Oh man! Someone get that cat to lick my horns again.

The Next Week at the Tang Center
Nurse: Well you seem to have a lot of red irritated skin and most of the pamphlets we’ve handed you seem to keep mysteriously catching fire.
Satan: Forget that, that’s not what I came here for. I really don’t remember what happened but it’s been, like burning in my pee. And there’s swelling. Uhh, down there. Near little Satan.
Nurse: Well we’ve got your test results right here. I’m sorry, but you have Chlamydia.
Satan: … Oh. I guess I have some phone calls to make.
Nurse: Some?
Satan: [sullenly] One.