Latest Issue
Volume 32, Issue 1:
The Heuristic Playboy

Top Ten Rides at the Bemusement Park

  1. Clark Kent: The Ride
  2. House of Opaquely Dirty Mirrors
  3. Indiana Jones Archaeological Dig Adventure
  4. Thomas Moore’s Autopia
  5. Tunnel of Hesitant Mutual Attraction
  6. Mr. Toad’s Wild Bench
  7. The Ed Harriswheel
  8. The Doesn’t Matterhorn
  9. Bummer Cars
  10. Emotional Rollercoaster

Man Gradually Replaced by Better Version of Self

The next step in a slowly advancing personal coup took place last Wednesday when Jared Demming’s friends once again invited acquaintance Jeff Dumar over for dinner. Demming, who was neither notified of the event nor welcome to attend it, reportedly listened to Dumar’s smooth, deep voice through his closed bedroom door. Demming, who suffers from a thyroid condition that causes his voice to oscillate violently and at random, became suspicious.

“I thought I’d join them,” said Demming uncontrollably, “but when I walked out to meet them, they pretended to not notice.”

Dumar allegedly regaled his hosts with tales of his athletic misadventures on his college waterpolo and triathlon teams. According to an earlier news story, Demmings had played water polo in high school, but he never pursued it further, though he did try out for the triathlon team once. He failed to make the cut.

“We met Jeff during the kayaking trip that he had planned,” said Demming’s acquaintance Susan McKinney when reached for comment. “Jared couldn’t make it because of his thyroid condition.”

After Dumar left, Demming reportedly asked longtime friend Jessica Cho if she would like to see his latest batch of childish drawings, Demming’s sole means of self-expression and release, to which she absentmindedly replied “I guess” before sighing deeply.

Top Ten Forms of Tomfoolery

  1. Promising Ten But Delivering Nine
  2. Putting a Handkerchief in a Young Madam’s Bosom
  3. Putting Things Where They Ought Not Be
  4. Being an Utter Hooligan
  5. Putting Spirits in Ginger Ale
  6. Putting Dijon Mustard on a Hot Cross Bun
  7. Whitewash-related Fibbing
  8. Tying a Bell to a Cat’s Tail
  9. Pouring Molasses in the Cotton Gin

The Adventures of Sven Bjolnir

Viking High School Student

Girls

Thor: [Grinning, surrounded by giggling wenches, showing off gleaming
warhammer]
Yeah, I made this sweet little hunk of steel. Smithed her from the fire of a thousand stars. Oh, and did I mention that I
killed the evil serpent Jormungand with this baby?
Girls: Ooh! Your hammer is so…big!
Sven: [Eating leg of mutton nearby] Bullshit. Thor’s only popular because of that stupid hammer.
Sven’s Friend Bjorn: So why don’t you get one of your own?
Sven: Well, it helps that my daddy doesn’t own a mystical iron forge in Valhalla!
Bjorn: Point taken.

Drinking

Sven’s father: Son, you reek of mead. Were you drinking at Loki’s party?
Sven: [Evasively] I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about, Dad. Loki’s parents were home and everything.
Sven’s father: You lie. I know for a fact that Laufey and Farbauti are off fighting the Frost Giants in Northern Midgard.
Sven: Wait, Dad, I can explain…
Sven’s father: There is no explaining
to do. As punishment, you are not to longboat anywhere except school for the next month.

Road Trip

Sven: [Excitedly] Dude, exploring
Norway GAA I mean, the mystical land of Midgard GAA is going to be so tight!
Bjorn: Hell yeah, I can’t wait to see all the famous Norwegian landmarks. Ice Mountain, Snow Valley, Really Cold Gorge…but first we need some wheels. Did your dad say we could borrow his longcar?
Sven: No, man. It’s still in the longshop.
Bjorn: Longdammit!

Drugs

Bjorn: Hey Sven, we’re going to go smoke a bowl on the hill. Want to join us?
Sven: Well, despite being a Viking and not knowing what that expression could possibly mean, okay.
[Twenty minutes later]
Bjorn: Dude, have you ever really looked at the Northern Lights? I mean, really looked at them? It’s like, magic, or something.
Sven: No, dude, I think it has to do with like, Science.
Bjorn: Science?
Sven: Oh, Science is the god of light and space.

Dating

Bjorn: So, Sven, how was your date with Hilda the Valkyrie last night? She’s hot as Hel!
Sven: [Grinning] Let’s just say it went well.
Bjorn: [Winks knowingly] Oh yeah?
Sven: [Unable to contain himself] I totally raped her, dude! And then I sacked her thatched hut.
Bjorn: [High-fiving Sven] Way to go, man!

Words from the Top

Enemy Mine

Everyone needs an enemies list. With all the talk of national disunity and the red/blue divide, I figure this “healing” is just a clever tactic. That’s right, they lull you into a false sense of security, then BAM, Senator Joe Biden (D-DE) punches you in the face and takes your shoes.

And that’s why I need an enemies list. But how to make one? Remember, Richard Nixon had one, and now he’s dead. Lesson: Never pick “natural causes” as an enemy.

The key to making good enemies is picking people who are less powerful than you.
Enemy #1: The Pope. I could take that guy. What, are you gonna release some doves at me?

Lesson: Have an enemy you hate with the sum total of all evil since the original sin.
Enemy #2: Little Debbie. She knows what she did.

Lesson: Consolidate your efforts to save time.
Enemy #3: A paranoid schizophrenic. That way, you can hate six people for the price of one. That’s not hating harder, that’s hating smarter.

Lesson: Don’t hate anyone that can get you in trouble for hating them under hate crime laws.
Enemy #4: Hate crime laws. Anything that prevents me from having more enemies is my enemy. Okay, now I’m done blowing your mind.

Lesson: Don’t write anything that other people are going to read if your writing is so bad that it makes depressed war widows cry onto puppies with two legs. And they’re both hind legs. How do the puppies walk, you ask? With their chins.
Enemy #5: Daily Cal columnists Eitan Bencuya and David Pekema. They know what they did.

Enemy #6: Endings

Student Unable to Comply with Parent’s Request

Sophomore William Hammersmith’s father was dismayed to learn yesterday that his son would be unable to “spend a semester flipping
burgers if you want a car,” because he is too un-Mexican.

“I’m a white male aged 18 to 35 GAA I can’t even get hired as a waiter,” Hammersmith lamented. “I looked all over and there was only one job
I could get.” Hammersmith then excused himself to dictate a memo to his executive assistant and put a down payment on a houseboat in Sausalito.

Top Ten Signs Your Common Cold Isn’t So Common

  1. All your leeches are dead
  2. Your ears are so stopped up it sounds like the doctor keeps saying “cancer”
  3. Tums cause you to explode
  4. Your throat is so sore you don’t even want to eat brains anymore
  5. It’s autographed
  6. Ebola-ridden chimps won’t hang out with you anymore
  7. Someone sends you a “May It Come Swiftly” card
  8. Doctor keeps trying to zip up the bag over you
  9. After nine months, you give birth
  10. It speaks with a dignified British accent

Being a Male Porn Star Is Hard Work

By Miles O’Dong

Most people think that being a male porn star is a glamorous job. That all day it’s just sex and making that one face. But it’s not. For one
thing, it’s hard to tell where work ends and where everyday life begins:

Cashier at Bookstore: Okay, that comes to forty-two dollars even.
Me: Can I pay by credit card?
Cashier: Sure, but I’ll need to see your ID.
Me: [Starts to takes off pants]
Cashier: [Shocked] What the hell are you doing?!
Me: But I thought that “ID” stands for Incredible GAA
Cashier: No. It doesn’t.

And clothes shopping is always an ordeal:

Me: I’d like thirty-eight pairs of tear-away track pants, please.
Clerk: Whoa, buddy! Are you GAA
Me: [Sighs] No, I’m not starting an AYSO team.
Clerk: …a male porn star?
Me: Look pal, you wanna see my ID or not?

And the worst part is, porno doesn’t even pay
that well! I’ve had to work tons of part-time jobs just to make the rent. Like when I got that job as a bartender:

Female Customer: Whiskey sour, extra sour.
Me: Coming right up. [Starts pouring drink]
Female Customer: Why is it taking so long?
Me: [Still pouring] Almost there!
Female Customer: Okay…
Me: [Still pouring] Just a little more!
Female Customer: What?
Me: Yes! That’s it! [Pulls bottle away from glass, coating her face in whiskey]
Female Customer: What the fuck?!
Me: Towel boy! Over here!

Or that time I had to deliver pizzas to a sorority house:

Me: [Rings doorbell]
Sorority Girl in Negligee: [Seductively] Hey there, pizza boy.
Me: Uh, yeah. That’ll be thirteen-fifty.
Sorority Girl: So tell me, what’s on that pizza?
Me: Aww c’mon, don’t make me say it. Can
I just have the money?
Sorority Girl: Not ’til you tell me what’s on that pizza.
Me: [Sighs] Extra sausage.
[Slap bass starts playing]
Me: Goddammit, Jerry, will you stop that?
Guy with Ponytail: Sorry.

After a career in pornography, no one takes you seriously. Like that time I tried out for the
touring cast of the British Royal Shakespeare Company:

Director: Well, Miles, I was very impressed with your portrayal of MacDuff. But…
Me: Was it overwrought?
Director: No, not at all. Best I’ve ever seen, in fact. It’s just that if you want to do mainstream work, you have to start…somewhere else.
Me: You mean, like at a dramatic GAA
Director: You have to blow those eight guys dressed in army camos.
[Kenneth Branagh starts playing slap bass]

The Helper Monkeys Saga

STUDENTS ISSUED OBEDIENT HELPER MONKEYS
by Spencer Gilbert

In a thinly veiled attempt to divert funds from Berkeley’s unwanted stepchild, the Gender Studies Department, every currently enrolled student has been issued a live “helper monkey” to assist with day-to-day tasks. The included instruction pamphlet claims that the monkeys can be trained for hand-feeding their masters, bathroom assistance, various forms of massage, and “really anything a toddler or impressionable retard could be taught to do.”

So far, the idea has been well-received by the student body. Said one, “I named mine Dr. Bibbles, and he is certifiably a_dor_able.” The student then turned to his fidgeting monkey companion and screamed “BIBBLES PLAY!” Bibbles proceeded to play with a tiny monkey-sized hacky sack, pausing only once for a beating when his owner felt that he wasn’t “giving 110%.”

Consensus on campus seems to be that our new monkey helpers are a great timesaver and healthy outlets for repressed rage and sadism.

STUDENTS FIND NEW USES FOR PRIMATE COMPANIONS
by Spencer Gilbert

It’s been only two months since the Cal Bears Helping Hands MonkeyLink program began, and already some students have grown weary of
their assistants’ standard functions. No longer
content with the typical routine household chores, some have trained their monkeys to perform tasks previously unknown to lower mammals. Unsurprisingly, coming in first in our informal student poll was auto-fellatio. These days in Berkeley, the sight of self-blowing monkeys is as common as that of self-blowing homeless people.

Other students have trained their monkeys to
imitate their own behavior. Tasks such as stealing beer, chewing food, and vigorously masturbating into the backpacks of enemies have been outsourced to their tiny monkey helpers. Some worry that the rapidly escalating intelligence of the monkeys will result in a listless student body incapable of working without animal assistance.

“That is foolish,” replied one monkey. “There is
nothing to worry about.”

STUDENT CORPSES FOUND IN STRAWBERRY CREEK
by Spencer Gilbert

The bite-riddled arms and heads of missing Berkeley students Danny Iwamoto and Allyson Perez
have washed up on the banks of Strawberry Creek. Autopsies of the victims were inconclusive, although student doctors at the Tang Center have speculated that the cause of death was most likely “bad vibes.”

Examiners were left puzzled as to the origin of the tiny scratches and teeth marks covering both bodies.

LOYAL FOLLOWERS OF THE RESISTANCE

It has now been four months since Monkey
Independence Day, previously known as Arbor Day.

Those of us who weren’t bitten or scratched to death in the first wave now know the horrors of the banana mines and the sting of our monkey overseers’ whips. We all also know the pain of struggling to explain to our monkey oppressors that bananas cannot be mined, and then good-naturedly accepting the rain of feces that follows.

And then, of course, they make us report for grooming, where they beat us mercilessly and unmetaphorically. This must stop. Hopes are high that our new helper possums will help us overthrow our simian overlords.

Join us behind the tire swing and the little fake log in Human Cage Six after lights-out.

Superhero Jury

Thanks to an extreme statistical improbability and several lucrative cross-licensing agreements,
twelve superheroes were called to serve as jurors in the murder case of State of New York vs. Lorenthal Smith.

Jury Selection

Judge: Okay, you’re now officially on the
jury, Batman. Call the next potential juror.
Bailiff: The court calls Bruce Wayne.
[Pause]
Batman: Yeah, I think he went to the bathroom. Let me go get him… [Runs from room]
Bailiff: Then the court calls Wolverine, the rugged loner who plays by his own rules.
Green Lantern: He didn’t show up.
Bailiff: Oh. That makes sense.
Bruce Wayne: [Bursting in] Sorry I’m late!
Judge: Why are you wearing a black leather
cape…and a cowl…and holding sixteen Batarangs?
Bruce Wayne: I have to go to the bathroom again.

Prosecution Examines Witness

Prosecutor: Now, Mr. Capelli, did you or
did you not hear the defendant say that he wished his father was dead?
Professor X: He did.
Judge: Please stop answering for the witness, Professor.
Professor X: Very well.
Judge: And stop subtly passing me mental suggestions for snack breaks.
Super Diabetic Man: Awww!

Prosecution Presents Evidence

Prosecutor: As you can see in these crime
scene photographs, the victim was shot six times, then disemboweled.
Superman: Whoa, whoa, whoa! According to the Comics Code Authority, you’re not allowed to explicitly present the unique details and methods of a crime.
Prosecutor: But GAA
Superman: No buts! Everyone shut your eyes. Oh, except all you Vertigo guys.
The Sandman: Fuck, shit, rape scene.

Questions for the Judge

Judge: Mr. Foreman, I understand that the
jury has some questions about the case?
Green Lantern: That’s correct.
Judge: Go ahead.
Green Lantern: How many issues will the
victim stay dead for?
Judge: For the last time, the victim was shot in the head. He’s not coming back.
Green Lantern: Not even for a reunion issue? What about continuity resets?
Judge: No.
Superman: What’s the big deal about getting shot, anyway? I don’t think I understand
the case.

Deliberation

Batman: So then we’re all agreed that he’s
guilty?
Captain America: Wait, we haven’t heard
Bruce Wayne’s vote.
Batman: Goddammit, for the last time, he
said he was voting with me!
Captain America: Well, I’m not about to circumvent our legal system for Mr. Wayne’s food poisoning. I vote not guilty.
Green Lantern: We’re gonna be here all night! Days maybe! This is just like in 12 Angry Men!
Bruce Banner: You wouldn’t like me
when I’m angry…
Green Lantern: But this could take weeks!
Months!
Bruce Banner: Stop it, stop it, stop it!
Green Lantern: We won’t see our families for a year! All because of Captain “Ameri-Can’t-Condemn-a-Guy-to-Death” over there!
The Hulk: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! [Throws Captain America out window]
Batman: All right, guilty it is.