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In This Issue
- Columbia Expands, Gentrifies Outer Space
- Spectator Artist Plagiarizes Fed's Ben Schwartz
- Farewell from Feditrix Kate
- Media Decency Campaign Attacks Stern
- EC Fire Alarms Pester, Endanger Students
- Don't Get Impregnated By Young Republicans
- Letters to the Feditor
- Sci-Fi Poo Theory
- Sports Beer: Not Good For Sports
- Butler: The Engineering Frontier
- Unarians Help You Go To Space Life
- Totally Fab New Planet Suggestions
- Bush and Cheney's Excellent Adventure
- Fed Student's Guide To Meningitis
- Columbia Girls LOVE Barnard Prez Schapiro
- Funny Comic #543: Adventures of Ice Bitch
- Able & Baker: Monkeys in Space
- Honoring Jesse Strouth- A Highly Derivative Cartoon
- They Watch
Columbia Girls LOVE Barnard Prez Schapiro
Disclaimer: Author is Not Actually As Creepy As This Sounds
Kristen Loveland
Judy, baby, I miss you. Why don't you call me anymore? Maybe our first date didn't go as well as I would have liked, but can't we try again? I won't make any more "Barnyard" jokes, foxy lady, I swear. I just thought they were cute. Listen, I know that you've been screening my e-mails and you're annoyed that I keep asking President Bollinger to plead my case, but I just want another chance. I swear, this time I will totally respect you for your brains and not your booty.
I'll admit, at first my intentions weren't so pure. Is it a crime that I found you attractive? When I saw that picture of you on your official website with that wild frizzy hair and lusciously rotund body... woof! And when I saw that you were the President Shapiro of Barnard, all I could think about was a bedroom role-play where you would be El Presidente and I would be a devoted student...but I digress. What were we talking about? Oh right, I just wanted to let you know that really I do value you for your mind.
Because honestly it was just an added bonus that you're a Barnard girl. Of course it's a well-known fact that Barnard girls give awesome blowjobs, but I swear that's not why I wore my kilt to dinner. I was just joking when I interrupted your incredibly stimulating diatribe on affirmative action and asked, "How about you be a good lassie after dinner and show this Scotsman a firm action?" Intellectually-speaking I thought you'd appreciate my wick...um...wit.
But really, you'll notice that throughout our lengthy discussion I mindlessly agreed with all your feminist arguments. Not so I could get into bed with you, but because I feel your pain. Actually, I was too embarrassed to admit this at the time, but I myself have felt the urge to be a woman every so often. And not just so I can stare at my boobs all day.
Now I know you didn't think I was paying attention, you silly goose, but I can even name off some special moments from our date.
For example: when you lectured the waitress about stereotypes because she spoke in a Scottish brogue and you thought she was mocking my kilt. Of course, she really was Scottish and I'm actually Venezuelan. But I love how you got all administrative up on that shit and totally ignored the actual facts of the situation.
And that was awesome when you exploded at a Barnard student for not recognizing you. You're right; this is a family for Chrissake! And she should have called you Mama J! But only if I can too!
Now, for future reference, what exactly offended you about the 1920s French porn we watched? I thought you'd appreciate my equal opportunity taste. Talk about affirmative action: guys on guys, girls on guys, nun on priest on dog on nun, musketeer on peasant woman, 14-year-old on 70-year-old. Now that's what I call diversity! Porn is misogynistic? I think porn is fun!
And listen, I'm really sorry that the date ended on a bad note and I'm sure PrezBo will soon get tired of calling you "Shitfaced Shapiro". But I thought you realized that by "coffee" I obviously meant "coffee spiked with roofies." How else do you think I mack on the ladies? I for one had a really great time prank-calling Bollinger and pretending to be President Putin asking about Hair Club for Men. You do one wicked Russian accent!
Actually, I'm sort of glad things didn't work out. I mean, you're a great girl and all Judy, but the truth is I'm sort of interested in someone else right now. After you passed out me and Lee really got to talking about some deep shit...and well, I think you and I should just be friends.
I'll admit, at first my intentions weren't so pure. Is it a crime that I found you attractive? When I saw that picture of you on your official website with that wild frizzy hair and lusciously rotund body... woof! And when I saw that you were the President Shapiro of Barnard, all I could think about was a bedroom role-play where you would be El Presidente and I would be a devoted student...but I digress. What were we talking about? Oh right, I just wanted to let you know that really I do value you for your mind.
Because honestly it was just an added bonus that you're a Barnard girl. Of course it's a well-known fact that Barnard girls give awesome blowjobs, but I swear that's not why I wore my kilt to dinner. I was just joking when I interrupted your incredibly stimulating diatribe on affirmative action and asked, "How about you be a good lassie after dinner and show this Scotsman a firm action?" Intellectually-speaking I thought you'd appreciate my wick...um...wit.
But really, you'll notice that throughout our lengthy discussion I mindlessly agreed with all your feminist arguments. Not so I could get into bed with you, but because I feel your pain. Actually, I was too embarrassed to admit this at the time, but I myself have felt the urge to be a woman every so often. And not just so I can stare at my boobs all day.
Now I know you didn't think I was paying attention, you silly goose, but I can even name off some special moments from our date.
For example: when you lectured the waitress about stereotypes because she spoke in a Scottish brogue and you thought she was mocking my kilt. Of course, she really was Scottish and I'm actually Venezuelan. But I love how you got all administrative up on that shit and totally ignored the actual facts of the situation.
And that was awesome when you exploded at a Barnard student for not recognizing you. You're right; this is a family for Chrissake! And she should have called you Mama J! But only if I can too!
Now, for future reference, what exactly offended you about the 1920s French porn we watched? I thought you'd appreciate my equal opportunity taste. Talk about affirmative action: guys on guys, girls on guys, nun on priest on dog on nun, musketeer on peasant woman, 14-year-old on 70-year-old. Now that's what I call diversity! Porn is misogynistic? I think porn is fun!
And listen, I'm really sorry that the date ended on a bad note and I'm sure PrezBo will soon get tired of calling you "Shitfaced Shapiro". But I thought you realized that by "coffee" I obviously meant "coffee spiked with roofies." How else do you think I mack on the ladies? I for one had a really great time prank-calling Bollinger and pretending to be President Putin asking about Hair Club for Men. You do one wicked Russian accent!
Actually, I'm sort of glad things didn't work out. I mean, you're a great girl and all Judy, but the truth is I'm sort of interested in someone else right now. After you passed out me and Lee really got to talking about some deep shit...and well, I think you and I should just be friends.