What Cohon will do when he retires?

1. Fight crime full-time

2. Star as a new actor in old movies

3. Wait tables at Denny’s

4. Take classes at CMU as a non-degree student

5. Become the new Jared for Subway.

6. Sit in front of his fireplace, swirling brandy in a glass a la Mr. Burns, and con- template his life.

7. Finally figure out what this 251 thing is.

8. Go to petting zoos, but not to pet. Just to watch

9. Return to his slumber… until he is needed again.

10. Ride off into the sunset on a white horse. Sadly, he will never learn that he left the stablegirl pregnant.

11. Wait for the Heat Death of the Universe so that he may begin again.

12. Volunteer to build new academic build- ings and dorms with his bare hands

13. Fill all the bottlecap holes in Wean

14. Tastefully decorate the steam tunnels

15. Finally cut loose at Carnival

16. Rename more colleges


18. Train the scotty dog to bark “in Scottish”

19. Start a one-man bagpipe band

20. Ascends to a higher state of being

21. Becomes a Barbarian

22. Climb Walkin into the Sky

23. Just keep digging and digging and dig- ging . . .

Experts Agree, Size Matters

The American Psychological Association yesterday released the results of astudy revealing that penis size really does matter and isn’t just some bullshit men cooked up. The forty-year long study followed men of all social classes throughout their lives and hardships.

“It’s shocking,” said lead psychologist Dr. Manelum (7 inches), “but men with larger penises are more likely to keep their health, be steady fathers, get jobs in their chosen field, and find true love.”

The news didn’t so much provoke shock as mutters of “yeah, figures” and “I knew it!” The results are more completely conclusive than any study ever done and there is no margin of error.

“Look at the facts,” Dr. Lyons, PhD, MD, esq (11 inches), “repeatedly we find social degenerates and unfortunates have tiny dicks. Adulterers average 4 inches, Stalin himself only 3 inches. Anyone with less than 5 inches is likely to be a psychopath, murderer, fast food worker, or hipster.” Women agree, too. Nine out of ten women noted that men who used penis lengthening procedures became more likely to help out around the house and finally understand what it is women want. (“That’s actually something guys don’t get?” laughed Mike Willaby, 8 inches, as he cured breast cancer and broke three Olympic records).

All other men in the study went home to cry. (The APA also reports that an ongoing study suggest that is really doesn’t matter how you use it).




For years, those conniving bastards had us believing that all they wanted from us were our oversized jars of honey and our picnic baskets, and the occasional lost hiker. Now, they’ve gone too far. The sudden disappear- ance of Canada’s entire supply of ma- ple syrup (and its only export unrelated to hockey) was mysterious at first. It was a week before the theft was report- ed, Canadians being too polite to make a fuss over the disappearance of their only natural food source. But when the Mounties started suffering from syrup withdrawal, Canada decided it was aboot time to investigate.

Upon discovering that only the syrup itself, not the drums in which they were contained, had been stolen, the answer became obvious: Bears. Who else would be sneaky enough to break into the Canadian Maple Syrup Vault undetected, eat all the maple syrup, and escape without footprints? Who else hates waffles so much that they’d destroy the greatest topping for the otherwise dry and bland breadstuff? The attack on breakfast has begun.

Taking this warning to heart, Canada and America are partnering together to sneak strawberry jam and Nutella out of grocery stores and into protected stashes around the countries. Yester- day, America issued a warning to the bears, vowing a ten-year retribution against any bears trying their tricks in the USA. In response, Canada asked the bears to “maybe not steal from us again, please?”

Cows Are Eating Candy

ImageAre you craving chocolate milk like right now? Unless you’re lactose intolerant or hate America, you do want some chocolate milk and you’re in luck! Apparently corn is really expensive to feed to cows since they have four stomachs and it’s way cheaper to just feed the cows candy instead. That’s right, cows are now living every little kid’s lifelong dream: Vegetables are too expensive, better just eat candy.

Anyway, corn costs about $350 per ton while chocolate sprinkles cost only $160 per ton so… wait, what? You can buy chocolate sprinkles BY THE TON? For $160 readme could finally create that giant pool of chocolate sprinkles that was once just a beautiful dream de- clared unsanitary by the FDA. In fact, I’m going to go invest in a few tons of sprinkles right now, AB won’t mind if readme borrows a little extra money from the budget.

THREE DAYS LATER News update: After the Activities Board discovered its entire bud- get was blown on several hundred tons of chocolate sprinkles, famed embezzler publication readme was found unconscious in the swimming pool. The pool, which had recently been drained by several dozen thirsty cows, is now filled with chocolate milk and chocolate sprinkles. Deter- mined never to let a good crisis go to waste, CulinArt is currently bottling the chocolate concoction and selling it for some crazy high price at En- tropy. It is delicious, but it will give you diabetes. So much diabetes.

Letter to the Editor: Scared and Horny

Dear readme,

I’m having trouble staying faithful to my wife, “Zoe”. We’re newly married and we’ve never had relationship problems before.   As I child I had a bit of a dollar bill fetish and a crush on my sister’s  Raggedy Ann. I struggled for years to hide it, and I thought I’d managed to escape my desires by sticking with credit cards and moving away from my little sister. But Halloween has made this impossible.   Recently I was looking for Halloween decorations for our house and I cut through the women’s costume aisle. Ads for Sexy Raggedy Ann costumes, Sexy Money Bunny costumes and Money Ho costumes jumped out at me from all  around. Miniskirts made of cash were everywhere, and I couldn’t escapes Ben Franklin’s sultry gaze, staring at me with that come hither look I  once knew so well. It’d been years since I last handled cash, but the presidents haven’t aged a day. All my old desires just poured back.   What can I do? My daughter even got a Raggedy Ann doll and I’m having more and more trouble coping with the siren call of its black button eyes. I don’t want to ruin my marriage, but I don’t think my wife would understand. How can I save our relationship?   The only ray of sunshine is it’s vindicating to know that I’m not alone. I can finally appeal the court case that convicted me of defiling U.S.  currency.

-Terrifyingly Turned On