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Admiration
By Bailey Bryant
On a summer night in 1947, my grandfather traveled into a neighboring town to watch a free Al Capp movie, and along the way he met the girl of his dreams.
She was sitting on a blanket and laughing with her friends, waiting for black and white images of Li’l Abner to appear on the side of the town’s hardware building. Her big blue eyes were set expectantly on the brick, while my grandfather’s were set on her.
After about a minute of longing, my 14-year-old grandfather knew he had to have this beautiful girl with black braids and chubby cheeks. Determined to make her his own, he strode confidently over and sat down, ignoring the giggling teenage girls that surrounded them.
“I’m Max Bryant,” he told her. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
My 13-year-old grandmother told Max she didn’t mind a bit and introduced herself as Mo. She and Max sat together for the rest of the evening, and that night Mo told her parents that she’d met the boy she was going to marry.
Five years later when she was 18, Mo kept her word and became Mrs. Max Bryant.
Since childhood, I’ve been obsessed with my grandparents’ love story. I even used to act it out with my Barbies.
My grandparents were so enamored with one another that they exchanged weekly letters for two years until my grandfather could drive. After that, they were inseparable until death. Their romance was improbable, but perfect, like something out of the movies.
I think I speak for most people when I say I want a spectacular romance like that in my lifetime. I want grand gestures, love letters and proclamations of my beauty. Most of all, I want personal contact from my suitors.
I don’t want someone to hit on me via text message or Internet. Nor do I want a man to anonymously confess his love for me on the University of Illinois Secret Admirer Facebook page. Recently, though, that’s what some people have been doing.
The University of Illinois Secret Admirer page was created in March after someone requested it on the University of Illinois Confessions page. The page, modeled after UW-Madison’s Secret Admirers page, has nearly 4,000 likes and receives hundreds of daily submissions.
The multiple admins of the page wish to remain anonymous, but said they created the page as a source of entertainment and an outlet for shy individuals.
While it contains a large amount of risqué posts that are obviously jokes, some people use the page to anonymously pour their hearts out. Most of the people named on the page, however, said they dismissed the posts as jokes. Others said the anonymous proclamations were both creepy and flattering.
After reading two posts about herself on the Secret Admirers page, Shannon L. Sabino, freshman in engineering, said she’d much rather be approached in person than posted about anonymously on the Internet.
“I don't want people posting on the Internet about how physically attractive they find me, and how they assume that I'm someone they'd like to get to know,” Sabino said. “I'm a woman, and my attraction to men comes from their personalities, not from their attraction to me. If you want me, talk to me; don't tell the Internet I have Ke$ha hair.”
Julian Gallegos, sophomore in DGS, had similar feelings when he read a post about himself. He added that while he’s shy too, he’d much prefer his crush approach him in person. Gallegos said he would never post anonymously on the page.
“If you tell (your crush) what you think about her, what's the worst that can happen? She says no?” Gallegos said. “Then it was never right in the first place and she wasn't worth your time if she couldn't take the time to get to know you.”
Dozens of the people named on the page felt the same as Gallegos and Sabino. Some were bothered that they were frequently examined from afar, others were annoyed their admirer made no attempts to approach them, but in all the cases nothing came from the posts. The admirers remained anonymous, and the relationship status of those named remained static.
In my mind, if you’re so captivated by someone that you’re willing to write multiple paragraphs about the perfection of their existence, it only makes sense to pursue them. And pursuing someone isn’t posting about that person anonymously online. Nor is it texting him or her late at night. Pursuit is personal. And if you can’t muster up the courage for that, life’s going to be lonely.
"Pursuit is personal. And if you can’t muster up the courage for that, life’s going to be lonely."
I’ve never been one to obsess over unattainable objects. I’m goal-oriented and I pursue the things I want. When my pursuits end in failure, it’s easier to move on. Yes, the pain of rejection is exquisitely painful, but to be corny and accurate, you can’t let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.
On a similar, equally as corny note, you should shoot for the moon, because even if you miss you’ll land among the stars. If my grandfather had only admired my grandmother from afar, he wouldn’t have met his soul mate when he was 14 years old, and I wouldn’t be here today to write cheesy articles.
The Bliss of Being Single
By Liz Amanieh
Dear Depressed Single Person,
Being alone isn’t as bad as tumblr makes it out to be. I’m sick of the nagging and crying as you look at the tumblr blog on love quotes. Try not to think about why you’re single. Instead, look at what the single side has to offer. There are no boundaries.
1. Limitless amounts of flirting - You want to talk to that guy? Sure. You want to talk to him over there? Go for it. You want to talk to both at the same time while looking over at that sexy one over there? You have my blessing.
2. Freedom - Sometimes you just want to do things without reporting it to anybody. When you’re not in a relationship you don’t have to tell anybody where you are going or what you are doing. You just do whatever you want.
3. Sleep, lots and lots of sleep - Being single means you can sleep whenever you want and for as long as you want. You can enjoy your entire bed to yourself. It’s truly an amazing feeling, especially if it’s a twin bed. You can spread out in any heinous position you deem comfortable and nobody’s going to be there to judge you. You won’t be kept up all night, waiting for him to leave in the morning so you can fall asleep comfortably.
4. Indulge ALL the time - You just want that pint of cookie dough ice cream and you don’t want anybody else to see you as you dive in. It’s okay. Even though there are valid reasons for why you need to sit down with that pint and bond, nobody is going to question why because you’re single and, well, that’s enough of a reason.
5. Open plans -When you’re dating someone, it’s like you’re obligated to hang out with him or her. When you’re single, you can pick and choose whoever the hell you want to see and what you want to do.
6. You don’t have to understand the concept of “working out”- This is something only people in a relationship can understand. It’s foreign to single people. You don’t have to impress anyone. Let’s face it, nobody’s going to be seeing all of you anytime soon so why would you waste your bonding time with ice cream?
7. Not having to shave - You don’t have to shave. The only person you need to please is yourself and shaving in no historical record ever has ever fallen into the category of something anybody wants to do.
8. You are at your prime - Out of all your friends, you are the one your taken friends go to when they want to have a good night out. They know you have been perfecting this ever since you’ve been single. You are still going after the pre-pregame — which yes, indeed, exists. It’s for single people only, it’s when you pregame by yourself — pregame and bars. After all, it’s not like you’re looking forward to going home and cuddling with your pillow. And please don’t tell me you have gotten so depressing as to invest in a body pillow. No — just, no.
Being single is liberating. Enjoy.
Friends with Benefits and Hooking Up: An easy alternative or settling?
By Dainya Wesley
In this day in age, the phrase “friends with benefits” is quite familiar to the average ear. Especially when entering college and even when preparing to graduate, hooking up is often a given in this confusing stage of our lives.
“I see the appeal of the friends with benefits relationship, but in the long run I feel it never works out,” said senior at the University of Illinois Katherine Kelly. “Someone will fall for the other and then it just ends up being a big mess of awkwardness.”
Romantic comedies are not the easiest to relate to when a man goes chasing after his lover to stop her from getting on a plane like in the French movie L’Appartement or when Noah from The Notebook writes Allie letters every day for a year. Are these images unrealistic or have we simply given up on love?
“My favorite romantic comedy is Cinderella Story and Two Worlds Collide,” said senior Ashley Hewson. “After watching movies like this I feel that we do settle.”
Love stories like No Strings Attached and Friends with Benefits seem more reflective of today’s dating scene; women relate to Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman.
“Perhaps young men don’t feel they need to make big gestures in order to win over a woman and perhaps as young ladies we do not require it from guys,” said Kelly. “If you can just hook up, why bother trying? And if he hasn’t asked you out on a date why expect him to want a relationship?”
Many are not fond of the lack of attachment from simply hooking up, but others feel this is best alternative when both parties communicate what they want.
“I think that having a friend with benefits is great, as long as both members of the relationship are on the same page,” said senior Shannon Harms. “I think it’s common for one member to become more attached than the other, and that’s when things can get messy.”
Romantic comedies and romance novels are very enticing, but they often do set an impossibly high bar that most young males could not reach even if they tried.
“Movies make us believe that the man in the relationship will show up with 6 dozen roses and a memorized monologue of their wedding vows, when they’ll most likely show up with a single rose and shrugged shoulders,” said Harms. There’s nothing wrong with that, because there’s no director telling them what to do and no script telling them what to say.”
For the young ladies who are happy with their relationships, continue to appreciate your guy’s attempt to make you happy, whether large or small.
“A guy I was once dating called me and told me to turn on his radio show broadcast which was available online. I thought he just wanted to show off and have me listen to his show, but he gave me a shout-out on air and had a playlist queued up of the songs that reminded him of me,” said Harms. “Much better than a mixtape.”
Long distance just doesn't work
By Blaize Stewart
Spring Break has just ended and some college students who are in relationships just had a test: Can a relationship handle the week apart and still remain strong? The answer is probably yes. It’s a week apart. If you can’t handle that you might be in what some call a “needy” relationship, and you have a whole different set of issues to work out.
However, this week of separation is just a precursor of what is just around the corner. Summer is roughly a month away and the time apart for couples who live in different zip codes will be measured in weeks or months, not days. Their relationship is about to be put to the ultimate test: long distance.
If people were totally honest with themselves, they would realize the whole long distance thing isn’t going to work. Students don’t live in a romantic comedy; we live in reality. In this reality, most long distance relationships end in failure.
It’s because it takes so much more effort to make things work. You have to spend extra money traveling, more time planning and less time enjoying each other’s company. Trust issues easily develop and typically couples spend more time angry or suspicious of each other than missing their significant other.
Some manage to make it work, but these are the couples who are in it for the long haul. You know, the ones who have dated since high school or have actually discussed the possibility of a future.
This does not describe most college relationships. Sure, you might think that person you made out with on the dance floor of Joe’s is your soul mate — but wait till you sober up.
Do you really want to spend your summer pining after someone miles away who you could easily break up with in a few months? Better to cut the cord before the summer, and if it is meant to be, make it happen when you get back to school in the fall.
Pot Notables: Celebrity Edition
By Mariah Sutton
Yes, sir! It’s a bout that time of year again! The infamous unofficial holiday that is 4/20 is around the corner and all the stoners & hippies are surely getting ready for this event. Bongs everywhere shall be filled with the smoke of the ‘Mary Jane’ and swishers, papers, lighters, blunt splitters, Visine, and air freshener will surely go up in sales come April. However, let’s not forget the most important rule when smoking pot — don’t get busted! In honor of this golden rule, I’d like to recap on a few famous people in particular who failed to abide by this ever so crucial rule of not getting caught.
1. Louis Armstrong
2. John Lennon - John Lennon was arrested and fined in 1968 at his London home for marijuana possession. The police had to break down his door while Lennon was attempting to get rid of all the evidence. Unfortunately a drug-sniffing dog ratted him out.
3. Bill Murray - This guy is truly something for getting expelled from Regis College in Denver for attempting to smuggle about 9 lbs of marijuana through Chicago’s O’Hare airport in 1970. In 2007, he was awarded an honorary Doctor of Humanities Degree from the same college. Talk about a comeback.
4. Bob Marley - He really shouldn’t even be mentioned seeing as how obvious this one is, but in 1977, Marely was arrested by British police for possession of marijuana.
5. Paul McCartney
6. Lil’ Kim
Rapper Kimberly Jones was arrested for possession in 1996 when police busted her and rapper Notorious B.I.G. in his home, which contained marijuana and weapons.
7. Snoop Dogg
The Snoop D-O-Double G was caught twice for marijuana possession. The first time was in 1998 and he was only given a citation for having less than an ounce of pot. The second was a little worse; being caught with 200lbs of marijuana on his tour bus in Cleveland in 2001, he pleaded no contest and was fines $250.
FUN FACT: Cameron Diaz noted that she bought weed from Snoop Dogg in high school.
8. Macauley Culkin
It was in 2004 when former child star Macauley Culkin was busted for weed in car pulled over for speeding, and was charged for possession of marijuana. He had to pay a $540 fine.
9. Haley Joel Osment
Just two years later, another former child star Haley Joel Osment was charged with possession of marijuana after losing control of his car and crashing into a brick pillar. He was also charged with a DUI (no surprise there). He was put on three years probation and was required to pay $1,500 in fines, along with having to spend 60 hours in alcohol rehab and go to at least 26 Alcoholics Anonymous meetings in six month’s time.
10. Amy Winehouse
11. Cameron Diaz
12. Kid Cudi
Honorable Mention:
Barack Obama
Although he was never caught, our very own president Barack Obama willingly admitted to smoking pot in high school and throughout college. Who knows, maybe one of our future presidents will be smoking weed right here on this campus on 4/20 — until then, flame up and engage responsibly!
What Will it Take to End the Hate? Hate Crimes Against the LBGT Community
By Dainya Wesley
It was a typical Saturday night filled with dancing, laughing and toasting to our final year of college. The night was young and in that carefree moment, cruel words and hateful punches were thrown. Julio McNeal was called several derogatory names and was then assaulted by a student and his friend at the local bar and restaurant, Firehaus. McNeal was sent to the hospital and was forced to receive a number of stitches in his left eye.
“I had to come to my own defense after being attacked by two guys,” said Julio McNeal. “I just feel sad that in this day and age events of this nature are still a dime a dozen.”
Stories like this are not uncommon today. As controversy over gay rights continues to surface, tension has been causing an increase in violent acts against the LBGT community.
“I just shake my head at those people who still think in such a close-minded manner, but it happens more than the media portrays,” said Chuntanay Phillips, a senior at the University of Illinois who witnessed the attack on McNeal.” After finally witnessing a hate crime against a friend, I was completely stunned and infuriated.”
A hate crime is a bias-motivated violent act that often stems from feelings of supremacy. According to a breakdown of single bias hate crime incidents reported by Metroweekly, almost 21% of hate crimes in 2011 were a result of sexual orientation bias. Although racial bias occurs more than twice as often as sexual orientation bias, there has been an increase in hate crimes within the LBGT population.
“I'm surprised to hear these statistics,” said London Walther, a senior majoring in Urban Planning at the University of Illinois. “One would think that as more states are passing LBGT friendly legislation and more people are approving of gay marriage than ever before, that those numbers would go down.”
With hate crimes against gays and lesbians on the rise in the community, there has got to be a solution.
“The answer is to educate; almost every minority group has a slot in history classes where we talk about their struggles, but gays and lesbians do not,” said McNeal. “If we educate people to see that some of their heroes have waved the rainbow flag, it will allow those who are unaware to become enlightened.”
Another issue, however, is the lack of seriousness from authorities after these hate crimes occur. According to The Human Rights Campaign, Illinois law explicitly protects citizens from crimes based on sexual orientation, but on a local level this can often be ignored. After McNeal’s attack that took place weeks ago, there has still been no progress with his case.
“So far I have gotten little to no support from either the police or the establishment,” said McNeal. “I feel like if the situation had stemmed from a racial aspect things may have moved along faster due to Champaign’s controversial past with African American’s in the community.”
Even with these incidents, America as a whole has grown more open-minded when it comes to LBGT rights. Currently gays and lesbians can legally marry in New Hampshire, New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa, Maine, Vermont, and Washington, D.C. Populations all over the world support same-sex marriage, including all of Canada, parts of Europe including Sweden, Spain, Norway, the Netherlands and Portugal, South Africa, Mexico City, and Argentina, according to Christiangays.com.
“I'm excited to see progress,” said Phillips. “It is going to happen, because it’s a civil right!”
A shift in consciousness is in order to create change here in America. For now all we can do is respect others and their beliefs and hope that hate crimes against innocent victims like McNeal will soon come to an end. We also have a duty as citizens to demand action from authorities on these issues.
“I advise anyone who has and may experience something like this to speak out, but also remain positive,” said McNeal. “Hating someone because of their ignorance makes you no better, but answering questions and helping to educate will help you and others rise above it.”
If you or a friend is ever a victim of a hate crime on the University of Illinois campus, be sure to report it by contacting the police, the Office of the Dean of Students and send an email to [email protected].
Kid Cudi Rocks Assembly Hall for the Third Year in a Row
By Emily Waldron
As I approached the doors of Assembly Hall, I observed the “No Tolerance” signs, warning students that the staff would not put up with any marijuana smoking or alcohol drinking shenanigans. I laughed, knowing that the warnings would not be heeded. We were at a Kid Cudi concert, after all.
Kid Cudi is known for smoking copious amounts of marijuana and then writing songs about his life. And while this is seemingly something that anyone can do, it takes a certain level of talent to produce good music while high, and not just sit on your ass eating Cheetos.
And boy, does he produce good music.
Cudi visited campus for the 2011 Victoria’s Secret PINK Show. It was cold and wet, and the people in the crowd were all too drunk to care about who was on stage. Many Cudi fans who saw the show complained that he lacked enthusiasm and just sucked overall. But having seen one of his shows in San Diego, I had a theory that it was probably just the weather getting him down.
I can now confirm that I was absolutely correct because Kid Cudi rocked everyone’s world during his show on March 30th.
It was my third time seeing him, and I knew he would open with the most energizing song off his second studio album (Man On The Moon II), “REVOFEV”. The lyrics ask, “Where will you be for the revolution?”, a perfect way to engage the audience. The bass built during the hook and exploded during the chorus, shaking the entire building. “REVOFEV” definitely did its job of being the concert opener.
However, rather than moving on to more songs from MOTMII, Cudi featured two songs off his upcoming album Indicud, set to drop April 23rd. The first, “Immortal”, is reminiscent of the sound on his first two albums, but definitely brings a more Indi vibe to it, as the new album title suggests. The second, “King Wizard”, carries a different sound, with the use of a harp behind Cudi’s fast-paced raps. He also performed his new single “Just What I Am”, which features King Chip, Cudi’s concert opener.
He went on to perform all of his classics and fan-favorites: “Marijuana”, “Mr. Rager”, “Man on the Moon”, “Memories” featuring David Guetta, and of course, “Pursuit of Happiness”, both the original version and the remixed version done with Steve Aoki. In addition, he performed an acoustic version of “Up, Up & Away”, proving that while he may produce mad beats and sick rap lyrics, he can sing just as well.
Besides performing in expert fashion, Kid Cudi connected with his audience. He would break between songs to talk to the crowd, and you felt as though he was speaking directly to you. During one of his breaks, he made sure to tell us that we can do anything we want in the world, and that we should never give up on our dreams. Despite being blown away by his music, that was my favorite moment of the entire concert. It takes a true artist that cares deeply about the music they make to connect to an audience in a genuine way like that. And it is something I will never forget.
“Why Haven’t You Seen My Chemical Romance Live Yet, Bro?” #SaidDevinDanza #Workaholics
By Dan James Broderick
Ding dong, the witches are dead! You know that one band where all the guys wear makeup and look like girls? Wait — that’s not specific enough because all major label bands these days look like disgusting girls. Oh, what were their names? They had that weird parade song and that other one I don’t remember because I don’t suck emo dongs.
My Phlegmy Biblical Crow Dance? My Cock Ho Man See? Crap My Pee?
Wow this is hard, hold on let me Google it…My Chemical Romance! That’s it! Yeah, apparently they finally called it quits on March 23 after twelve years of whining about stuff in weird Nazi-looking uniforms. The band didn’t make a big deal about it, and they just posted a brief statement on their website. According to Fuse, the group wrote, “…And now, like all great things, it has come time for it to end…”
Remember when we were all in grade school and everyone was like, “Oh my god! You have to listen to My Chemical Romance, or you’re a p*ssy!” It is kind of ironic if you think about it. Well, let’s just say MCR, as the real fans abbreviate it, wasn’t really my thing. I tend not to like bands that wear makeup and look like vampires on purpose. Seriously, that lead singer needed to go outside. He would scream sing too, but it wasn’t like that “toe-tapping” screaming you hear in all that screamo music. More of a whiny wail, which wanted to make the listener to blow their brains out. Really, look at the lyrics. That crap is depressing, man. I still don’t know why people would pay over $60 to see them far away.
It truly boggles the mind, especially when you can go watch a real band (in their appropriate gender looks and not be confused) at a local club for $5 or less. And not to mention a way better performance and usually better music, quality wise that is. No joke. Just a few weeks ago, my hot date and I went to Subterranean in Chicago and saw four amazing bands for a total of $15. You do the math.
And the band Like Bats was just as depressing as My Phlegmy Biblical Crow Dance, but way cooler. Like Bats looked like dudes, makes you want to jump around happily, had amazing lyrics (but pretty depressing if you look at them just on paper), and were simply good. Their front-man looked like McLovin for Jesus H. Christ’s sake. So to Devin Danza’s question “Why haven’t you seen My Chemical Romance live yet, bro?” My answer is because I have way better things to listen to.
P!NK, So What?
By F. Amanda Tugade
Back when TRL ruled MTV, I remember watching P!NK’s videos “Get the Party Started” and “Just Like a Pill” listed on their music countdowns. Particularly, “Get the Party Started” became the anthem of the beginning of the new millennium. P!NK, aka Alecia Beth Moore, was different from the ‘90s explosion of bubble-gum pop stars like Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera and Mandy Moore. P!NK was edgy, and the new millennium welcomed her innovative, wild spirit with open arms. With her athletic figure, boyish, platinum blond hair, and “fuck you” attitude, her music encompassed the pop’s version of teen angst and rebellion.
Performing since she was 14, P!NK’s journey to stardom has been rough. She was in two unsuccessful all-female bands, Basic Instinct and Choice, but her big break came in 1999 with the album Can’t Take Me Home. The single “There You Go” featured the fresh-faced teen with bright, hot fuchsia hair and baring her goodies in glossy bare-midriffs and tight leather pants. P!NK had style. The success and recognition of her first album created noise for her sophomore album M!ssundaztood, which notoriously gave us “Get the Party Started” and “Just Like a Pill.”
Of course, how could we forget when P!NK teamed up with powerhouse, female vocalists Lil Kim, Mya and Christina Aguilera for the remake of Patty Labelle’s “Lady Marmalade” in 2001?
Fast forward a decade, P!NK’s still here, and I commend her for surprising me every time I listen to the Top 40 on the radio. But P!NK isn’t memorable. Actually, I don’t even realize that I’m listening to her song until the DJ says, “And that was (insert song title) from P!NK.” Her songs are generic and irrelevant. She’s on the dusty shelf like an old grade school yearbook, mingling with stale chart-toppers like Kelly Clarkson, Avril Lavinge, Ciara and soon to be Carly Rae Jepsen. For you movie enthusiasts, P!NK songs are like the annoying, endless installments of Scary Movie or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. No one really cares, and if by some chance we hear a P!NK song, it’s usually toward the end of the Friday night, where we’re eight beers and three shots in.
But I guess that’s the type of ish that all musicians alike have to go through. Musicians have to “reinvent” themselves, their sound and their image, all while “pleasing” their fans and gaining some sort of recognition/publicity from critics.
That’s what makes music complex. We, as avid listeners, as fanatics, call our favorite artists “sell outs” when they slip into the “mainstream.” Listening to underground musicians and bands generate street cred for us; it makes us look cool. Once people catch on, we, the fans, move on to someone who’s even more unknown and has an even more obscure sound/band name. But pop music? Isn’t that supposed to be commercialized? It’s meant to be mainstream, but has P!NK exceeded the boundary of pop music and entered in the black hole of “has-beens”?
She’s clearly trying to catch our attention with suggestive song titles like “Blow Me (One Last Kiss)” from her latest album The Truth About Love. Well, I’ll raise my glass to P!NK. Keep on truckin’, I guess.
THE DARKNESS: Everything is rigged
By Dan James Broderick
Stupid referees! How come all of the teams I like get robbed? Oh, yeah that’s right, because sports are rigged. All of them!
Take a look at just about any NBA game and there are a whole ton of missed, bull honkey, and downright preposterous calls made by the referees that influence the outcome of the game.
C’mon, LeBron, aren’t you like 6-foot-8-inches, 250 pounds or something? And yet when you get a bump from little old Nate Robinson you go flying into the stands. Or when Tyson Chandler puts a little grease into his screen, you act like you were blindsided and then go displaying around the court. Then, magically seconds later, you are okay.
Or how about that Bulls vs. Nuggets game where goaltending is sometimes a +2 points while 30 seconds later it is -2 points? David Stern just wants good theatre.
Basketball is like Pro Wrestling now. It’s even getting into college basketball. Did the official really believe that the ball went off the Illini during their NCAA Tournament game against the Miami Hurricanes? It was pretty clear-cut that it went off of Miami. And in the Ohio St. vs. Iowa St. game, a charge call pretty much decided the game. That charge sure didn’t look like a charge to me.
There have been a whole lot of questionable calls this March Madness, and it’s all pretty fishy if you ask me. The mafia definitely has a hand in this. With so much bracket money on the line, the mafia would be stupid not to get involved. Soccer is definitely fixed. Boxing is fixed. Cricket is probably fixed, I don’t really know. The NBA is looking pretty sketchy (Tim Donaghy can’t be the only crooked ref). Baseball even has steroids and is still boring.The NFL might be next!
Even my Mario Kart Double Dash League has a black eye with defective controllers and eerie blue shell timings.
Moral of the story: The mafia has a hand in everything and David Stern sucks LBJ’s schlong because he wants another Michael Jordan-esque player to make the NBA a whole lot of cash.
If anyone wants in on the dark underworld sport of Mario Kart, hit me up at [email protected] *
*Not an actual email address. C’mon.
Facing the Fear in San José
By Jack Dylan
Studying abroad can end up being a wholly different experience than what your professors intended it to be. Jack Dylan* knows first hand:
We were somewhere between the fourth and fifth brothel when the drugs began to take hold. The synergistic combination of adrenaline and the synthetic energy I snorted 20 minutes ago provided the moment of clarity.
What the hell am I doing? I never should have trusted this guy. How do I ditch him?
Six hours ago I was out with friends. Leaving the bar, I noticed two guys passing a joint. I wanted to join; no one else in my group did.
I’ll take my own taxi, I told them.
How many times had I heard “Don’t leave the group?” As many times as I had realized “dangerous” means “fun” in foreign countries.
The first guy was Canadian. He’d lived in Costa Rica for ten years. Or something like that. The other guy was from Miami. Loved the women, nightlife and power a North American with money can hold in Central America.
They let me in on their rotation but skipped me a few times. Whatever. I told them my story. Been in Costa Rica for a month and half. Love the weather and the gregarious people. Got two and half months left in paradise.
The Miami native, I don’t remember his name and didn’t even really catch it the first time, asked me if I wanted to hang with him tonight.
“I hardly got any money left,” I said.
“It’s all on me, man.”
“Really? Alright, let’s do it.”
The Canadian left as the joint burned out and I followed Miami back into the bar.
Studying abroad tests comfort zones. I wanted to kick mine in the teeth.
He asked what I drink.
“Rum and coke.”
He ordered two Jagerbombs. With a bit of encouragement I chugged mine with him. My eyes still closed as my throat succeeded on its second attempt to swallow, I heard him.
“Let’s get outta here.”
The cab driver couldn’t stop laughing. I knew we were going to the capital, San José, but my Spanish was failing me.
“What’s so funny?”
“Don’t worry, buddy. You’re gonna love it.”
We reached our stop and fare was 10,000 colones. $20. As he reached into his wallet I could see a mountain of aqua bills, the color of the 10,000 colones bill.
The bar looked like shit from the outside. I’d been to San José before, but didn’t recognize this part. The streets were filthy. A homeless man was sleeping on the other side of the street.
The smell hit me first. Sex. Plain and simple. Before seeing the first prostitute I knew where we were. Prostitution is legal in Costa Rica, a not-so-guilty pleasure.
I started shaking. If it weren’t for the weed and the drinks I would have looked like a sapling in a hurricane.
I followed Miami to a table. Two more Jagerbombs and two beers.
Porn was playing on the four televisions in the bar. Two other groups of guys were here. The girls, some naked, some modestly covered in thong and bra, appeared disinterested with life. A topless waitress served us our drinks.
“Dude, I don’t wanna do this,” I said.
“First time, huh? Pick any one you want. My treat.”
“No thanks, man. I got a girlfriend back home.”
“And she has no clue where you are, man.”
I pounded the beer.
A girl approached Miami. You could tell she knew him. They talked about something from “last weekend.” He told her to find someone for his friend.
She smelled like the cigarette burned couch my buddy in the States fucks his girlfriend on. “No” didn’t seem to mean much to her. Neither did my lack of Spanish.
“Hey, if you wanna just look, that’s up to you,” Miami said. “I’ll be back.”
And with that I found myself alone in a brothel in San José around 2 a.m.
Should I leave? I don’t have money for cab fare. I can’t call anyone. I have to stick with Miami, he’s got money. I finished my Jagerbomb and spent my remaining money on another beer.
As I finished that beer Miami returned.
“You’re an idiot, man. These bitches will do things your girl would never do.”
“Yeah, I bet,” I said. “But I’m really wearing down, man. Think I can get going home?”
“Already? We got more places to go.”
The next few hours are a blur. I remember the following:
Costa Rican brothels operate on an increasing scale of price and perceived quality. Our first stop was a $20 brothel. There are also $40, $60, $80 and $100 brothels. We made a stop at one of each. The higher echelon brothels are more centrally located in the heart of San José.
At every brothel we drank one Jagerbomb. At every brothel I declined the primary service.
Miami knew guys and girls at every stop. At the fourth brothel he bought cocaine. Exhausted, drunk and mindless I accepted when he offered me two lines in the bathroom. It turned out to be a Godsend.
A short time into our stop at the fifth brothel, the $100 sort, Miami excused himself to the bathroom. The coke was in full effect and the nerves that had been drowned in liquor transformed into primal roars in my head.
LEAVE!
RUN!
NOW!
I stepped back from my drink and into a sunrise. Was it really 7 a.m.?
I had to distance myself from Miami. Reality began sinking in with every step. Ten blocks from Miami and into truth, I stopped.
I’m fucked.
It was all I could think.
Every town in Costa Rica has a centro commercial, a center square. San José’s is home to many a homeless man at night. They were rousing when I arrived.
Clueless, I sat on a bench. I quickly had company.
B.O. doesn’t begin to capture the smell. This three-toothed guy in army fatigues smelled like real shit. As I was preparing in my head in Spanish what to ask he pulled out a crack pipe. I asked anyway.
“San Joaquin, huh? I know a taxi driver who can get you there,” he said between rips.
Before I knew it I was flying down the highway.
Costa Rican taxis are red. So are the fake taxis. Both use the same pay meters, except the piratas, or pirate taxis, set theirs on a faster rate.
About halfway home I realized my guy hadn’t even turned his meter on.
“Just pay me good.”
That’s when the Fear set in. Nervous, I initiated small talk. At times I found Spanish I never knew I had, at others I couldn’t think of the most basic of verbs.
About three-fourths of the way home, flying through traffic like a hyena chasing snails, my driver removed the Honda logo in the center of the steering wheel, pulled out a bag of cocaine and expertly snorted three lines he neatly sorted on his right forefinger.
Did I mention the Fear?
As we approached my neighborhood, I panicked. How the hell am I going to pay this crazy bastard?
I had to lie. Telling him to wait outside while I gathered money from my drawer in my room made no sense. I couldn’t borrow money from my host father.
Did I mention my brain was shot?
Two blocks from my house, at about eight in the morning, I pointed to a house that wasn’t mine.
“How much,” I asked.
“Just pay me good.”
Fuck. I opened my door in the eastbound car and ran west.
My heart pounded harder than I knew possible. I screamed for help. I cut down an alley. The car was close behind.
He was trying to run me over. I jumped onto the sidewalk. So did the car. He was screaming.
I had never been down that alley before. Dead end. I had to bait him out of the car. The man was old and I could out run him. As long as he didn’t pin me to the brick wall I was facing.
He stopped just short. Something about killing my fucking ass. He got out. Yes.
I jumped on the hood and ran down the alley. Turning that car around in the tight alley will buy me time.
I sprinted back down the alley, turned right and sprinted down the road my fake house was on, turned right down the street my real house was on and as I reached the locked gate to my real house the car skidded to a stop behind me.
I screamed for my host father. Terrified, I couldn’t open the simple lock on the gate. As the pirata was opening his door, my host father arrived. He screamed at me. He screamed at the pirata. The pirata screamed at me. The pirata screamed at my host father.
A short discussion I scarcely had the energy to translate occurred. Money was thrown out of the gate and I was pulled in.
I tried to explain but my host father simply sent me to bed.
“We will talk when you rise,” he said. “This was a learning experience.”
A learning experience it was. An experience in culture, an experience in trust, an experience in debauchery.
I made the worst decisions of my life that night. I thought myself worldly, independent, grown. But a 21-year-old with an appetite for adventure in a city known for swallowing overconfident gringos is a mismatch.
I was lucky to escape alive. While I wish to never face a similar experience, I hold a silent, almost guilty confidence about that night. If I can make it through that, what can’t I survive?
* Name changed
The Unofficial Adventures of Pope Benedict XVI
As we’ve all heard, the Benedict XVI is stepping down as Pope at the end of February. He stated his reason for resigning was weakness of body and mind. Likely story for an old man, but it’s not true. He resigned out of nowhere, and announced that his last day on the job will be February 28th. Hmm...why does that sound strange? I know! THE POPE IS COMING TO UNOFFICIAL! After a lifetime of celibacy and sobriety, he’s gonna cut loose with one wild day to remember. We’re all excited for his visit, and The Spread was lucky enough to get a copy of his itinerary for the day*:
7:00 AM: Benny Boy arrives on campus riding his newly modified Popemobile. The bulletproof windows are stripped away, giving him the ability to truly interact with the crowds of people lining the streets. As he gets bombarded with applause and panties, his holiness will be performing the opening segment of a Harlem Shake video. The post-beat-drop segment will be filmed at 8:55 on and around the Alma Mater. Don’t be late!
9:42 AM: The Dogma Daddy’s next stop is Urbana. He’ll be stopping by any and all open parties and showing rookies how to do a keg stand. (Disclaimer: He is not responsible for cleaning up after his papal pukes.)
12:37 PM: The Infallible Italian ruler will be making a stop at Chipotle. He likes the “Food with Integrity” message, but really he eats there because they give him his Godly guacamole for free, and most restaurants around campus don’t sell margaritas at lunch.
1:49 PM: The Vatican Vicar will then take his talents to the south quad. Make sure to get there early so you can witness him doing the Bishop’s Beer Bong. It’s a hollowed out staff that uses divine intervention to turn water into wine by the time it reaches your lips.
4:33 PM: Barcrawl time for the Day-Drinking Deity. He’ll be making stops at Legends, Brothers, Joe’s, Kam’s, NOT Murphy’s (He heard about the whole “Thurs-gays” thing), Firehaus, Cly’s, and Red Lion. If you’re a bartender, don’t be thrown off if he orders “Jesus Juice”. Just give him something with UV Red. He’s just trying to get alcohol, and the only drink available on the altar is the blood of the lord.
10:20 PM: The Pontiff of Public Urination will be leading a prayer in the Morrow Plots. That’s right, he’s so powerful, they’re gonna let him into the holiest grounds of the Urbana-Champaign kingdom. Instead of reading from the bible and giving a traditional homily, he plans on mixing things up a bit. He wants to get the crowd going by leading his a capella apostles in singing “Sweet Caroline”. Rules: Take a shot every time you sing, “Touching youuuuuu”. Everyone is allowed to take one plant from the Morrow Plots.
11:59 PM: City police will have no choice but to arrest the Catholic Character and kick him out of town after his attempt to reenact his favorite Katy Perry song, “Last Friday Night”. Apparently, they didn’t appreciate when the 85 year old went streaking through the union, skinny dipping at the arc, and having a menage a trois in the middle of Assembly Hall.
*Not an actual itinerary (come on).
February Issue
Everything you’ve ever wanted or needed to know about Valentine’s Day, plus tips on how to throw an awesome party, and next year’s NFL predictions. CHECK IT OUT!
Sick Tips
By Taylor Lucero
The flu has been spreading like wildfire lately and I had the unfortunate luck of catching it for a week over break. That’s why I’ve put together a few ways to ease the discomfort of being sick besides making tissue mountains and kicking yourself for not getting the shot when you had the chance.
More than likely, you’ll be falling in and out of consciousness while you’re sick. Go for a classic cure and play some music between naps. It’s soothing and simple. Don’t force yourself to get work done. Give your body the rest and relaxation it needs to recover. Stressing about missing lectures won’t do you any good; you need to force yourself to lie down and reenergize.
If you absolutely have to get some studying done, glance at notes and books while you feel up to it. One of my favorite study methods is reading all of my material once without trying to memorize any of it and then sleeping on it. When I wake up, I remember a lot of it without having reread my notes before I went to bed. Finally, indulge in all things cold and sweet. Some of my favorites include Sprite, popsicles, and McDonald’s ice cream cones. They’re easy to eat and soothing on sore throats.
These methods won’t guarantee a swift recovery, but they can make being sick a little more bearable. Preventative methods are important this season. Wash your hands frequently and have quick access to a Kleenex. Hope everyone stays healthy this semester!
Why is there Still an Obsession with the Kardashians?
By Taylor Odisho
If I was the Hulk, my tick that would make me turn into a green giant with fists of fury would have to be when someone mentioned any member of the Kardashian family, especially Kim. Is it because I am jealous of the supposed beauty that surrounds the Kardashian family? Not at all. I love Angelina Jolie and she is easily one of the most beautiful women in Hollywood. What makes Jolie different from any of the Kardashians is that she has worked for her esteemed position in Hollywood through numerous films. She is a talented woman and has deserved, in my opinion, everything she has earned. Kim Kardashian also paved her way through film, however as many of you may know, it was a staged film made for the pornography industry. Now that must have taken a lot of talent on Kim Kardashian's part — except not really. Due to their family reality show, America has glorified this family and created superstars out of them. As Kanye West boasted, "My girl a superstar all from a home movie." I hardly think that is something to be proud of, but that is a blog for another day.
Tablets are the New Laptops
By Taylor Lucero
As tablets become more frequent, laptops will eventually be a thing of the past. While laptops are pretty convenient, I’m ready to accept the tablet craze with open arms. Here are a few advantages to owning a tablet: