Sunteți pe pagina 1din 1

12

The Pioneer Log Backdoor

February 24, 2012

TOAST OF THE WEEK:


ALIENS, MAN.
Today marks the 70th anniversary of the Battle of Los Angeles. 70 is also the atomic number of Ytterbium, an element frequently used as a dopant in active laser media. COINCIDENCE? I think not. On this day in 1942, a veritable UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT appeared over the city of Los Angeles. The GOVERNMENT first said it was an attack by the Japanese. Then, they said it was just a false alarm; tried to chalk it up to war nerves. Eyewitnesses, however, described it as a surreal, hanging, magic lantern. Did our government spoil our chances of ever achieving intergalactic harmony with our extraterrestrial brethren? The answer, quite simply, is yes. They gave us a beautiful olive branch from the far reaches of the universe, and we gave them several hours of continuous military bombardment. Oh, little green men (or whatever you look like), we, too, come in peace, but alas, our leaders to whom you unfortunately took yourselves, are militaristic douchebags with castration anxiety. To you, our spacey brethren, we drink a glass of chartreuse, a liqueur so green and so boozey, it cannot possibly have come from human technologies. Come back, well party, we wont shoot at you, and hopefully you look like David Tennant. Cheers, aliens!

You: Paranoid cutie. Me: Actually watching you. Lets watch Zeitgeist some time.

You Caught My Eye


You: Sapphic Smiths fan Me: Please, Please, Please let me get what I want You: Sloppy drunk freestyler Me: Wishing youd drop my beats. You: Golden haired wanderer Me: Willing to ignore your potent stench. You: My love, my fire. Me: Your one desire. You: I mustache you a question: If I was your Jewliet, would you be my Gnomeo? Me: Wanting to wish you a buon compleanno. Just one more month until we can unwrap your package.

You: Lucuma Me: Banana wanting to explore your Southern Hemisphere. You: Would-be hair metal god. Me: Girl, Girl, Girl who wants to pour some sugar on you You: Cig smokin skinny boy Me: Waiting for a pinch of your butt You: Got some crazy doodles Me: Impressed by your gigantic noodle

Wanna mack on somebody in a public forum? Email a You Caught My Eye to piolog@gmail.com

Were been dancing around this for awhile, and maaaybe at times been a little harsh. But, we try to calls em like we (everybody secretely) sees em. Yeah, maybe were a little too easily perturbed, but maybe youre kind of a fuckwad... hows that for an epiphany, jerkoff? So, in the interest of fairness, lets be more explicit, shall we? Here is a list of shit you should, seriously please please please, for the love of God [unless youre a total apathetic prick-ass douchehole, in which case youre clearly too far gone for any kind of social guidance] NEVER do: 1. DONT WALK SLOW ON THE PATH. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. Dont walk slow on the path. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY????????????? 2. DONT LOLLYGAG/FART AROUND WITH YOUR FRIENDS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BON/DOVECOTE. I have 5 minutes to get somewhere, so, as of now, you and your friends are officially fucking up my day. Go get your jollies in a less crowded area. 3. DONT GET DRUNK AT TIMES WHEN IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE AND EXPECT ME TO THINK ITS CUTE. I like to party. You like to party. God-cockshitting-dammnit, we all like to fucking party. But when you get drunk at times when it, frankly, makes no godamned sense, dont expect me to deal with it. Youre annoying. Sincerly, the classiest bitches that ever was. 4. DONT PRIMP IN THE BATHROOM MIRROR FOR FOREVER, ESPECIALLY WHEN ITS JUST YOU AND I IN THERE. People gotta poop! Be respectful, damn. I have class with you every day. Please dont make me have to decide whether its better to keep prairie-doggin or just let it go. WWJD? Neither. So get the fuck out. 5.DONT MONOPOLIZE THE TEACHERS OFFICE HOURS TALKING STRAIGHT UNRELATED COCKAMAMIE BULLSHIT WHEN IM CLEARLY WAITING OUTSIDE. I mean, goddamn, dude, are you serious right now? I seriously just have to get something signed. But if I interrupt you, all the sudden, Im the asshole. Fuck you. 6.DONT ORDER A COMPLICATED COFFEE DRINK WHEN THERE ARE MORE PEOPLE IN LINE THAN I THOUGHT EVEN WENT TO THIS SCHOOL. If you need some sort of fancy, shmanzy, dress-up for your caffeine, you dont deserve it. 7. DONT USE CLASS DISCUSSION AS THERAPY. Life is a continuous struggle to conceal ones craziness. But struggle you shall, and struggle you must.

LC DONTS

TALES FROM THE KEG:


Inebriated Thesis Proposals
Anna Karenina is a fucked-up bitch, just like my ex-girlfriend Jessica : General cuntiness and Russian Literature Everything is racist, no, for real though, shit is seriously fucked : A sociological inquiry Dude, Im not going to throw-up in your car, I swear to fucking God : Rhetoric and the human need for denial Hitler be trippin, Yo, homie had serious Daddy issues: Megalomania and the Oedipal Complex Let me give you a back massage : Physicality and the Theater Arts I dont know what Im going to do after I graduate, but, you know, neither did Robert Johnson : Postmodern caucasian reappropriation of blues folklore Why does beer make me so much more shwastey-face than liquor sometimes : A biochemical analysis I just have an OKCupid account because its funny : An anthropological evaluation of misanthropic social networking Your face reminds me of infinity...no, like, honestly...stop it : LSD and Eastern religion Man, I will seriously school you at some Words with Friends : the psychology of competition in modern linguistics I dont even care, he totally wanted to fuck Darcy : Bingley, Darcy, and homosociality in Jane Austens Pride & Prejudice If you dont know me or my roommates, get the fuck out of my house: Strategic alienation and social hierarchy among young adults.

THIS WEEKS COMICS: Help! Im in Hungary by Anonymous

All farticles written in the Backdoor are jokes. Funny jokes. Dont take them seriously because they dont take you seriously. Seriously. Oh, wanna do a comic or shower us with compliments? Contact Erin Ruprecht or Marcia Belsky.

S-ar putea să vă placă și