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In This Issue

• Get Your Freak On, Dorks
• (Almost) Rejected by Israeli Security
• Beaten by the Retard: Adventures in Drama
• Letters to and from the Fed's Maxima and Co.
• Columbia Hipsters Are So Shallow You Think You’re in High School
• Are You a Terrorist? The Government's Shocking Answer
• Failed Terrorist Herbie Bin Laden Marries Jewish Wife, Dabbles in Scientology
• Poetry.com: Your High School Poems are Waiting for You…
• Bottled Water: Bigger than Jesus, and now Semen Free
• Revolve magazine: The Seventeenth Seal
• I Passed the Oral but Failed the Urine
• Horribly Hassled Hermaphrodites Harangue Humanity
• Trial and Error Your Way to Perfect Genital Design
• Shot Down! : Rejections Made Simple
• Your College Essay, but with less Suck
• New Twenties Bring Back Tired Old Monopoly Money Jokes

High school was your last opportunity to try out for that certain sport, or your favorite play, or that cool garage band.  In high school, especially at public schools, the average kid is below average, and it’s pretty easy for you to stand out as the proverbial firmest toma in the tomato basket.  I knew that once I was at college my chances at getting the spot on the team or the role in the play was slim.  Unlike high school, the summers spent on my friend’s porch pegging her shitzu with a nerf ball wouldn’t land me a spot on Columbia football team, no matter how much they suck.  So high school was evidently my last chance to try new experiences. 

However, I had forgotten one thing.  At a public high school, even though you might be the firmest tomato, the administration is going to put the rotten piece of squishy eggplant (a.k.a. the school’s special-ed population) first.  But I had not thought that this would impact my chances at a part in the fall production of The Crucible.  So, in the spirit of new experiences, I was excited to try out for it my junior year.   

I had never acted before, but I thought that I could surely land a part by just standing up on stage and screaming at the rafters.  For the audition, I recited one line. I was a little bit nervous, never having auditioned before, but I spent a whole hour practicing beforehand.  I walked up onto the stage, and as soon as the director told me to go I fell to my knees, threw my arms up to the sky and screeched from the deepest depths of my soul, "Look at the crow up there!"  My arms fell to my side, I remained on my knees with eyes closed and, after taking a moment to collect myself and get out of character, I got up and confidently walked off the stage.  I am not going to be modest, I was pure brilliance.

Meanwhile, rolling up behind me onto the stage was Kristy.  Kristy was special. She personally filled the school’s quota of the mentally challenged and did not speak very well, if at all. I swear, she must have been late for finger painting in Special Ed every day because she was notorious for screaming like E.T. down the halls as she sped over your ankle with her electric wheel chair.  Anyway, she recited the same line that I did during the auditions.  Her rendition was monotone with some finger movements and went something like "Luuuk aut curaw deyah."  Point is, after realizing Kristy and I were the only ones trying out for this part, I was sure the role was mine.

Yet when the final cast was posted, Kristy had gotten the role.  It was only at this point that I had remembered the rotten eggplant in a wheel chair being put first thing.  I understand that Kristy deserves just as much of a chance as I do, but why did they have to pick a girl who can’t wipe her own ass and runs over my toes on a daily basis over me? When I went to go see the final production, Kristy was producing so many unscripted grimaces and groans that she had to be wheeled off before she even got to say the line she stole from me.

So for the spring musical, I was determined to snag a role and not be upstaged once again by literally the most retarded girl in the school.  The musical was Annie.  To ensure that I would be guaranteed a part, for the audition I rented a motorized wheelchair, pretended I was retarded, and recited the line "Duun’t leeeve Aunni," just like Kristy would have said it, complete with limp wrested chest tapping.  I did not get the part for two reasons: 1) it was a small school and everyone knew that I wasn’t retarded.  2) I am a horrible actress; therefore me trying to play a retarded girl auditioning for a role was more pitiful then just being myself and auditioning for a role, and certainly more pitiful than actually being mentally retarded and trying out, as Kristy had done.

I was rejected.  I thought the drama department would appreciate some new talent as fresh as the morning dew and as bright as the sun reflecting off the streaks left by the eggs I threw at the drama teacher’s car following The Crucible auditions. You could say I was a little bit bitter, but it was not the first and would not be the last of my rejections. You have to press on and never let the ‘tard who gets your part get you down.