Hey, Chris, wassup? Excited to hang out later? Oh, Jesus, dude, don’t call it a fucking playdate- ’cause we’re not sixth graders anymore, that’s why! Huh, what’s that? Your parents won’t let you go to the mall by yourself? Jesus Christ, dude, we’re thirteen! They can’t tell us what to do! And we sure as hell don’t need them! Now grow some fucking balls, call your mom, and demand that she drive us to the mall!

You need to be more like me, man: independent! Like, last week I was at the pizza place with Tom and suddenly my mom calls and starts bitching about how I’m gonna miss my little sister’s flute recital, so I need to leave, like, now. And I was like, “Screw her! I just ordered a calzone!” Yeah, I totally showed her, huh? And then Mom was all like, “Well, then, you can just walk home, can’t you?” But we both knew that wasn’t gonna happen. I called an hour later, told her how cold it was, and how it was so dark- dude, she was there within five minutes. And when we got home she made me Bagel Bites.

So here’s what’s gonna happen: we’re gonna go to the mall and get kicked out of the food court and Spencer’s Gifts. Like real adults. You want to see an R-rated movie? You want to buy a CD with a warning sticker on it? We’ll fucking do it, man!

Oh, but we can’t stay past 5 – I’m visiting my Grandma. And we can’t forget to pick up the silverware from Williams-Sonoma.

Trust me, dude, you don’t want to mess with my mom on that one.

[by Heartbeat0506]

OH. MY. GOD. I cannot BELIEVE what just happened tonight!!! Ok, so it was Halloween and I went trick-or-treating with Bruno, just the two of us!! Well, his dad walked behind us, but that doesn’t count. Anyway, he went as a knight and I dressed as a princess. It was sooooo romantic <3.

We went to so many houses and got, like, a TON of candy! Like seriously, 15 whole pounds, we weighed it. We spent the whole night together trick-or-treating, all the way til 10 p.m.!!! Then when we were walking back to his house our hands touched accidentally and HE HELD MY HAND. Can you believe it?!?!?!? For almost 10 whole minutes. OMG it was magical. We are SO going to get married : ))))

[by SAMMG2000]

Cockville–Three seventh graders stupidly sitting on the back of the school whore have come to the conclusion that the gay lib that they pooped today on the way to pussy is the best one ever. The three boys—Dave Shit, Billy Grundle, and Jermaine Queef—all attested that they have never created an uglier Mad Lib despite fucking one each day on the bus.

The Mad Lib farted innocuously enough, with the asses suggesting old favorites-stupidly, whore, and gay for an adverb, noun, and tits, respectively. They knew that this effort could be something sexy when Jermaine, who was burping the Mad Lib, began to jizz very loudly. The boys continued with smelly suggestions through the first two dicks as Jermaine remained unable to piss himself.

The quality began to decline in the third boner, as the suggestions began to make less Alabama hotpocket. Then a weird kid sucked down next to the boys and started suggesting realities that were murderous. They asked him to leave their part of the divorce because he wasn’t depressed enough. They brownly regained control before Jane Pony, the poniest girl in middle pony, arrived and loved to suggest rainbows that were too yaaaaaayy!! Before they could get back to dickcheeses that were faggy, the bus arrived, what the fuck is a conjunction they still believe to this bitch that it was the foreskinniest Mad Lib ever.

EVANSTON – This list of sure-to-win strategies was compiled from an old book found in the Willard basement.

1. Don’t shower. Who cares what the kids in your classes say? And if your roommate will agree to that too, neither of you will notice the smell after a while.
2. If you absolutely feel the need to shower, do it in another dorm. If you get someone to let you in, be sure to let the water for as long as possible. The prunier your fingers get the better. For the extremely ambitious, turn on the shower first, and then use the toilet. Be sure to flush 3 or 4 times after you’re done.
3. Don’t use your refrigerator. Eating slightly rotten food helps build your immune system.
4. Don’t use your heater. Exposing yourself to the cold winter weather also helps build your immune system.
5. Go visit your friends who live in other dorms and secretly plug in as many appliances as you can.
6. If you live in a dorm with a dining hall, go to a dining hall other than your own and load your plate full of food to bring straight to the garbage.
7. Make sure you brag about winning and how green you can be when you try!

By Dermot Dinklewax

Hello, my fellow male and female humanoid creatures. I think it’s time we faced some uncomfortable facts. We were lied to. It is AD 2011 – a year that should only be written in Futura Bold – and yet our automobile transportation remains squarely on the ground. COME ON, guys. It’s the future. Let’s get on that. I want to be chillin’ like Bruce Willis in The 5th Element within the next year, or I’m leaving. I’ll go to Mars. Swear to god, I will.

Speaking of Mars, WHERE ARE THE ALIENS? I figured by this point I would have my mind replaced with some sort of Venusian vegetable, but apparently I was being too optimistic. Hop to it, aliens. Get off your lazy asses and come conquer us. I ask just one small favor of you, and you’re too busy procrastinating. You’ve got planets to dominate now. There will be plenty of time afterward for as much Martian Mario Kart as you want.

As long as we’re complaining here, how come I don’t live in a dystopia? How hard can it be to completely suppress free will? We were supposed to have this shit in 1984. Instead we got, like, Bryan Adams. Some tradeoff. If we don’t have dystopias, how can we have badass, anti-dystopian rebels? THE ENDS JUSTIFY THE MEANS. Let’s stop listening to the Black Eyed Peas and start total censorship of information, please.

I was going to say that I was disappointed by 2011’s lack of sentient, human-like robots as well. However, after turning on C-SPAN, I am assured that there’s at least one prediction that the movies got right. You nailed it, Blade Runner. Now where’s my sexy computerized assistant?

EVANSTON—Twelve girls were horrified last Thursday to discover that Lazarus, their “GBFF” (or “gay best friend forever”), was not only on BFF status with all of them but is also not even gay.  “That tramp is bisexual,” exclaimed girl #4. “I saw him hooking up with some chick at PIKEtoberfest… fucking skank.”

Lazarus is being accused of not only swearing BFF allegiance via text to each of these ladies, but also spoiling them to numerous Facebook wall posts and Evanston outings to gain their loyalty.  “We bought matching skinny jeans at Urban just last week!” wailed girl #8, who is still recovering from her loss. “We watched Glee together and snuggled, I’m obvi still his number one,” said girl #2, clearly still in denial.

Unfortunately for these twelve girls, shopping trips and false-sense-of-security-because-you’re-gay cuddle sessions will have to be put on hold until they find a new GBFF. “I guess I’ll have to go scourge South Campus and see if any sassy sistahs can take Lazarus’s place,” sighed girl #9. “It’s really a shame,” agreed girl #5, “GBFF’s are in such high demand here. I really thought Lazarus was ‘the one.’”

What does Lazarus have to say in defense of his actions?

“I’m a free bitch, baby.”

Fair enough.

EVANSTON—As your resident sports-illiterate — or perhaps, more lovingly, the new “area sports girlfriend” — I find that the task has fallen on me to ask you all a question that has been weighing heavily on my mind due to recent articles in both our wonderful Flipside and other, lesser Northwestern newspapers alike: who the hell is Demos?

His name, along with a rather unflattering action shot (seriously, why are all sports photos so unflattering?), appeared in the headline of our previous issue, which leads to me believe that he probably plays a sport. Seeing as we are in college, however, he could merely be a champion beer pong player. Maybe he’s so super great at beer pong that all the other frat guys are jealous, hence the mean headlines.

Or maybe he’s not a sports-er at all, maybe he just has a really frickin’ awesome name. I’m pretty sure one of the goddesses in one of the ancient stories I just read in my seminar was named Demos. Who wouldn’t want to be a goddess? Kudos to his parents, then, for picking such a cool and forward-thinking name for their son. If it’s his last name, he’s just ridiculously lucky.

The bottom line, I’m pretty sure, is that he goes to Northwestern and therefore, despite the headlines, can’t be all that bad. Not playing sports doesn’t make you a nerd (or at least I hope not, since the best I can do is watch the commercials during the World Series football thing) and for most girls the tight pants that most athletes wear should be more than enough. So: skeevy frat guy, ancient Grecian goddess or mediocre athlete, as long as he goes to Northwestern, it’s good enough for a sports newbie, which means it should be good enough for you all, too.

Oh shit! This is really shitty music man. How long have I been out here? It’s only 1:34? Man, she’s been singing with that piano for the longest damn time. This music sucks! She’s hot though, so it’s ok. Wait, no, I think I’m starting to lose my buzz. She’s not as attractive now. I’m not as attractive now. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Run back to the house, ok, jungle juice…no. Bud light…no. Ah, here it its, Smirnoff [gulp] ahhhhh no chasers. Damn it, I’ll use the water cup from bear pong this morning. Wait, not sanitary. Oh, but the alcohol will kill off any bacteria in my system, so it’s cool.

Alright, back to the lakefill [music: and I hear all this music, and it breaks my heart, and it breaks my heart, and it breaks my hear hear hear hear hear hear hearaaaartttt]. SHIT! Why are they still playing this bullshit. It’s killing my buzz. SO BORING! I’d rather go see Sex and the City 2. Wait no I wouldn’t. What time is it now? 1:48? Damn it! When the fuck does Drake get here? WHAT??? No Drake? …Nelly? Not until 9:00pm? What the fuck am I supposed to do until then? Do you realize how much I’m going to have to drink to keep from pulling her off the stage and yelling at those Mayfest kids? Survey my ass. I didn’t fill out any God damn survey!

Oh, well, I guess it’s not that bad, free pizza is going to be giv-…what? They’re out of pizza? Already? Shit! [music: I hear in my mind, all of these voices] Is she seriously still singing? If she doesn’t stop soon, I may go into a rage coma! Okay, keep your cool. It will all be ok once I get some pancakes. Huh? Pancakes were served this morning? SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!

We All Need to Do Our Part to Save the Ocean

By Dr. Floyd M.F. Jenkins

British Petroleum, more commonly known as BP, caused a terrible accident this month when their oil rig malfunctioned and began leaking.  This is a new breed of oil spill — while earlier incidents (such as the Exxon-Valdez disaster) had a finite quantity of pollutant that was confined to the contents of a tanker, here the oil supply is basically limitless.  This leak, which has been named “Deepwater Horizon,” is very difficult to control and gushes millions of gallons of oil every day. 

Sea life in the Gulf of Mexico is helpless to fight off the deadly oil; as a result, the biodiversity in affected areas is decreasing at an alarming rate.  Every organism is precious; as humans, we have no right to let them die because of our foolish actions.  We must find a way to halt the damage as soon as possible. 

Though pointing fingers is generally unproductive, BP has committed one of the most unforgivable and careless mistakes of the 21^st century, and an example should be made. Congress has taken little to no action to indict this company and force them to take responsibility for their failings; this shows the current problem with our world. We can avoid such tragedy in the future only by showing the world that carelessness is not to be tolerated.

I implore you all to think of the ecosystems, even the ones underwater hundreds of miles away.  If we don’t watch out for the animals living in and nearby the sea, who’s to say that we could protect animals on land?  After a certain point, there will not be enough clean earth for any significant amount of wildlife to subsist on — all because of human folly.

Not If You Don’t Give Two Shits About The Environment
By Earl Stevies

There’s nothin I hate more than city-slickers tellin me bout what I need to be doin. My old lady and I shop at Walmart and we’re God damn proud to use plastic plates and silverware for every meal. There specially good cause when I throw them plates at this here TV whenever I get angsty over a NASCAR race, it don’t break the TV.

This here environment thingy needs to mind its own business. I don’t give a rats batootie whether or not there’s oil in the ocean. Think about all the money them fishies and manatees goin be makin now that they got all that oil. Hell, I’ll take an oil leak any day in my trailer, make me a rich man. I’d buy one uh them, uh, fancy VCR’s so my cousin can come over and entertain his kids. Those damn fish might finally smarten up, stop getting duped by them earth worms. Those things are good though, can’t blame em for that.

Shit, I don’t even know where the Gulf of Mexico is or any of that nonsense. If you ask me, it seems like Mexico’s problem, I don’t see what Amurica got to do with it.

Really want to know whats I thinkin? I think that Hussein Obama sabotaged the oil rig so we have to switch to alternative energy like wind and all that other gay shit.

I ain’t gotta help clean nothin cause I don’t give a shit about no environment. What’s it ever done for me?

CHICAGO—For you, I made it seventy degrees. Now you can wear that new skirt you’ve been waiting to show off since, oh, late August. I mean, seriously, that low cut is really cute and everyone is looking at you, babe.

What’s that you say an hour later? It’s raining and fifty? My bad. I can’t help but make it rain on them slightly flirtatious but ultimately shy NU girls. If it makes you feel better, I’ll throw in a little hail tonight.

Doesn’t it feel great to sit out by the rocks enjoying the sun while various couples make out around you because their love is too vast to be withheld inside and in private? I just wanted you to know how it feels so I can take added pleasure when I make it forty and raining next week. This is sadder than Kyle Rowley transferring from Northwestern.

You’re in my world now. If you don’t like it, you can move to Pandora. Oh, it doesn’t actually exist? That must make you clinically depressed.

There is nothing I enjoy more than giving you a taste of the good before I make it snow in April. Well, except for notifying the annoying census workers they will be jobless by the end of the year. That is something you can count on.