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Volume 32, Issue 1:
The Heuristic Playboy

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

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit Christmas

Detectives Stabler and Benson walked
into the cold morgue, glad they were
still wearing their trench coats from the
morning’s crime scene. The Medical Examiner pulled back the sheet covering
the victim’s body. The little boy’s cheerful red santa hat wasn’t the only red thing
in the room; his shredded entrails filled
the examiner’s table. He had been eating
peas, their green hue quite appropriate
for a December 24th rape and strangulation, thought Benson as she bent down
to examine the yellow fibers running
through what were once tiny ears.

“Wait till you see this,” remarked the
examiner, before turning off the lights
unexpectedly. She flipped a switch next to
the table and a string of beautiful Christmas lights running along the boy’s
body lit up. They reminded detective
Stabler of the Christmas lights that
used to adorn his childhood home,
except those weren’t covered in blood
and weren’t arranged to spell out the
words “SATAN LIVES HERE” across a
young boy’s chest.

The medical examiner turned the
lights back on, but it would never be light
again inside detective Stabler’s soul. Not
with the things he’d seen. Not with the
things he’d done. He took a bite out of his
gingerbread man.


Detective Munch stared into the little
girl’s eyes. He knew what he was going to
have to ask, but he couldn’t bring himself
to say the words. Detectives Stabler and
Benson were the lucky ones, he thought,
at least their victim was dead. Finally he
continued.

“Okay, sweetheart. Tell me exactly
where he held the mistletoe.”

The little girl pointed to a spot on her
Santa’s Little Helper Ken doll. She wasn’t
pointing to the doll’s mouth.

Munch slunk back in his chair. He tried
to offer her a candy cane from his desk,
but he knew nothing would ever taste
sweet for this little girl again. Nothing
ever could.


Captain Cragen smiled as his detectives gathered around the plump Christmas ham he’d prepared. He could barely
hide his anticipation; tomorrow morning
they’d all gather around the tree and open
the presents he’d carefully picked out for
them. For Olivia, a beautiful porcelain
doll to keep on her desk, to remember
the innocence and beauty of youth. For
Elliot, a little red fire truck to give to his
son. And for Munch, a CD of all his favorite music. It would be a special Christmas
for everyone. Except for the South Village
Rapist who was stabbed to death by a
cellmate prior to sentencing.

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.

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.

Top Ten Reasons Your Landlord Gave You the Place So Cheap

  1. Three words: location, location, it’s a crackhouse
  2. I don’t know, ask one of the other 19 illegal immigrants
  3. In the co-op, you’re your own landlord! And maid! And drug dealer! And fuck, this place is a shithole.
  4. The rat carcasses are load-bearing
  5. blah blah heartbeat in the floorboards blah blah
  6. 1000 square feet turned out to mean 200 feet wide, 5 feet long
  7. You are now legally liable for everything inside the Mystery Closet
  8. Half the deposit you gave to him, half the deposit he made in you
  9. Doorbell plays chorus from Tommy Tutone’s Jenny (867-5309) over and over again, and can never be turned off
  10. Apparently “French Doors” actually means “No Indoor Plumbing”

The Secret Diary of Margot Frank

Anne Frank is considered by many to be the Lance Armstrong of hiding
from Nazi oppressors. Her secret diary made her one of World War II’s
most beloved personalities. But while Anne wrote away, the goofier and
more optically-challenged Margot Frank also kept a secret journal.
Recently uncovered by historians, her brief but courageous chronicle
allows us to experience the horror that is being trapped in a Secret
Annex with an annoying Jew-sister that won’t stop writing in her
journal. I bring you now the resolute and triumphant voice of Margot
Frank.
-Compiled By Danny Marshall

Wednesday, December 22, 1943

Family and I have been in hiding for almost one
year and six months now. Have decided that
Anne’s not going to be the only Frank keeping
a secret journal. Why can’t she just stare at the
maple tree outside our window like the rest of us?
I too have interesting things to write about. Yesterday,
stared at the maple tree out our window,
wondered if it could grow roast beef sandwiches.
So hungry, so tired of eating potatoes.
I wonder what Anne’s journal tastes like?
_Yours,

Margot_

Wednesday, January 5, 1944

Anne writing constantly in journal. UUURGH!!! What does potato-hoarding
bitch have to write about all day? I mean, we’re just eight run-away
Jews hiding in an annex behind a bookshelf to avoid falling victim to the
horrors and mass genocide that Hitler and his German Gestapo followers
are wrongfully trying to inflict upon my people just because of our choice
of worship. How uninteresting is that? No one will ever read Anne’s journal…
except for me! I’m going to sneak into her room and read it tomorrow!
HAHAHAHAHA!!! Can’t laugh anymore, Nazis below.
_Yours,

Margot_

PS Anne’s journal tastes like potatoes.

Thursday, January 6, 1944

Investigatory work was success. Was able to sneak into Anne’s room and
read some of her journal. Guess what I discovered? Anne’s a big Lesbo!!
Hahahaha!! She kissed one of her friends and tried grabbing her boobies.
I bet her whole journal is a bunch of lesbian adventure stories that
contain nothing about all the Jewish hardships of World War II, and I
guarantee you Anne’s journal won’t be what The New York Times calls
“an eloquent testament to the human spirit” like mine is. Also, she calls
it “Kitty.” Her journal I mean, not girlsex. How stupid is that? That’s the
kind of thing a homosexual would name his cat. Oh. Guess that makes
sense then. Sure hope Hitler gets rid of them before we get out of here.
Anyway, I think you need a name, journal. Was thinking “Cuddle Bear,”
“Huggle Bear,” “Fuck You Anne’s Journal,” or “Sunflower.” Keep you
posted! Oh, and send food.
_Yours,

Margot_

Saturday, January 8, 1944

Dear Huggle Bear (Anne is a cunt),

Being tucked away from world in secret annex is making
me feel uncomfortable. Reminds me of the time I
found out that Anne kisses other girls. Hahaha, still can’t
get over that. Hope Papa publishes her journal after the
war is over and subsequently has it translated into over
30 different languages. In fact, I hope every eighth-grade
student is required to read it. Might be wishful thinking,
but I also hope they adapt her journal into plays, television
shows and films starring some shit actress like Millie
Perkins so everyone can see how stupid and pointless her
lesbian journal is.
_Yours,

Margot_

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.

Wine Enthusiast Not Impressed with Eucharist

Allen Murdock’s 34-stop, self-guided wine-tasting tour through Napa Valley, East Oakland, and Amador City took a turn for the sacrilegious Wednesday when he made an erroneous stop at St. John’s Catholic Church.

After careening off Highway 29, a red-faced and shit-housed drunk Murdock stumbled from his newly purchased 2006 Mercedes CLK350 Cabriolet Convertible and through the doors of St. John’s, stopping twice to urinate, once on the marquee and once in his pants.

“Give me your best shit,” Murdock yelled as flung open the doors, interrupting a First Communion service. “Give me. Give me. Give me. And you better not give me that Merlot bullshit. I’ve seen Sideways.”

Murdock pirouetted towards Pastor Edward Deeds, who was in the middle of serving the symbolic ‘Blood of Christ’, and demanded a tasting. Deeds told Murdock he was interrupting the Sacrament but Murdock responded by winking at him and accused their vineyard’s mascot of being “too sad looking and way too nailed to a cross” before snatching the goblet from Deed’s hands.

“Is this Cabernet Sauvignon?” Murdock said as he swirled the chalice and sniffed the wine, detecting a bit of strawberry-flavoring but failing to notice the touch of salvation.

“Very unimpressive,” Murdock said upon tasting Christ. “It’s too dry and doesn’t have much complexity or character. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone unless they’re some kind of Muslim terrorist and you want to see them suffer. Do you have any chardonnays?” Pastor Deeds told Murdock he didn’t and then had one of the two alter boys escort him to hell.

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.

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]