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In This Issue

• A Sneak Peek at Barnard’s New Vag
• Teacher's Pet Joins Elite Rank of CC Assignments
• Take a Ride on a Fiction Plane with Rachel Katz
• The Letters to the Feditor Strike Back
• What What (In The Butt): A Debate For The Ages
• Celebrity Beer Pong New To Network TV
• The Room-mate Chronicles
• C.J. Parker vs. Wolverine: Dispatches from the White House Correspondents Dinner 2008
• Columbia and the Perception of Self: A List of Stuff
• If I Were Graduating, I Would Be Thanking the Following People Whom I've Never Met
• Graduate Reflects: “Da faaaackkk???”
• A Message from the Next Chief Judge of the D.C. Circuit
• Don’t Forget to Bring a Towel, Experts Warn
• Therapist’s ADD Cured By Hourly Wage
• A Red Letter Day For the Green-Thumbed
• A Public Service Announcement from the Ad Council
• THEY Watch
• The Staff of 23.7

“Your silicone tits are no match for Adamantium, bub.”

The evening was sparkling with liposuctions, nose jobs, tween boy-bands, tight spandex dresses slitted to the garter lace line...and basically anyone who's anyone in the "Entertainment" business here in the United States. I guess President Bush had neither the cultural capacity nor the intellectual faculty to commend the great achievements of international actors, screenwriters, or artists. And of course, how could I forget, President Bush himself, trailing a posse of grungy, dimwitted men and women in suits too flattering for their IQs.

So yours truly was sitting at a table with Pamela Anderson and Hugh Jackman, among others. I was deep in conversation with Pam about her breast implants-where she got them done, who had done them-and she was encouraging me to get in touch with her plastic surgeon. Meanwhile, as Hugh was listening intently, all the testosterone in his body was flowing through his handsome veins. He was so interested that Pamela had offered to give him a little peek later in the bathroom. In fact, Pamela was about to let Hugh have a touch to show him just how real they feel, when all of a sudden a rude man in a tux announced into the microphone that the night's presentations were being delayed because "No one is shutting the hell up so no one can hear anything that is about to be said so please shut the fuck up. Thank you"

So, angered by the interruption of this enthralling mammary spectacle, I stood up and flipped him the bird, making sure he saw me smiling. I sat back down, naturally and heartily irked. But just then Hugh pulled out one of his Wolverine claws and popped Pam's tit. That made the whole night better. The best part was that she laughed and said her kids do it all the time. "The surgeon'll fix this in a jiffy".