Looking for new writers and graphic designers!
Come to our meetings every Sunday night at 9:00pm 5th floor of Lerner (near the student
government office).
All are welcome.
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Do you love animals? Or sodomy? Then buy a Fed T-shirt!
About Us
We have a long and storied history. Learn more about us...
In This Issue
- Christmas Gift to the World: Obama’s Dream Team Cabinet
- ‘Tis the Season for Booze and Folly
- Letter from the FEDitor
- From the Archives - Volume 15, Issue 2
- The Blue and White
- Problems That Only Hipsters Have
- A Special Holiday Message
- This Holiday Season, Eat Your Words with Roasted Chestnuts
- Recession Vacation!
- That Kid.
- The Pros and Cons of Being Chrewish
- Course Descriptions of Classes You Really Don’t Want to Take Next Semester
- The Top Five Ways To Get Laid on Campus
- THEY Watch
- The Staff of 24.4
THEY Watch

The holiday season upon us. It is a time to take out the old pen and paper and pratice the fine art of correspondence. A finely penned bomb threat is the best way to let loved ones know you really care. Otherwise THEY might think you have forgotten them, but we assure you: we never forget.
I: Dear Santa,
In case you didn’t notice I’ve been really good this year. I didn’t miss any classes (well there was that week, but those naps were key to my mental health). I called my parents every week, and I only called them evil people who ruined my life a couple times. I even gave money to help kids with cancer get toys for Christmas. So what I’m saying, Santa, is that I should really get an iPhone for Christmas. I mean even my 80 year old grandma who types out letters to me on a typewriter has one. People who have iPhones who aren’t me = THEY!
II: Dear Sun,
I thought what we had was really special. Don’t you remember the special times we had this summer? I would wear those cute shorts you like so much. You would lovingly stroke my legs with your glowing warmth. It was so good. So why are you spending all your time with that whore Australia? I cry every night thinking about the days when I could feel my fingers and toes. The dark and windy days of winter = THEY!
III: Dear Central Park Hobo Who Punched PrezBo in the Face,
PrezBo is The Fed’s punching bag, not yours. The Central Park Hobo Who Punched PrezBo in the Face = THEY!
