Articles from University of Pittsburgh

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If They Mated

by Katie Marino June 29, 2007

Coach John McGuirk and Maude Flanders

Peter Griffin and Phoebe Hyerdahl

Trent Lane and Velma Dinkley

Master Billy Quizboy and Porky Pig

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INT: A darkened boardroom at Coca-Cola Headquarters in Atlanta, GA, 1964.

President: Gentlemen! As you know, I have gathered you here today because our product is currently being outsold by Pepsi. What are you doing to ensure that I make a profit this quarter?
Peterson: Well, Mr. President, we could make some new commercials.
President: Go on.
Peterson: Lewis and I have been working on a new jingle.
President: Play it for me.
Lewis: Well, sir, it really won’t sound as good without my accordion.
Peterson: Or the wind chimes.
President: I hate it already. Carmichael, what have you got, you good for nothing piece of horse anus? You’re my least favorite daughter.
Carmichael: I’m your son.
President: Then what’s with the PMS?
Lewis & Peterson: (laughing & high-fiving each other) HEY-O!
Lewis: Jinx!
Peterson: Aw shucks!
Lewis: Now you’re my slave until I say your name three times. Get me a Coke.
Carmichael: Hey! Mr. President! That gives me an idea!
President: I know what you’re thinking, Carmichael: We can market Coke to war veterans by packaging it with single-malt scotch.
Carmichael: …No, sir. We can propagate a rule stating that every time someone declares jinx, the jinxed person must buy him a Coke.
President: Yes… Yes, that’s perfect! Think how many jinxes are called every day! Every hour! Our sales with quadruple! And we’ve cornered the market! Carmichael, you’re a genius!
President of Pepsi & President of Faygo: (watching via spy satellite) NOOOOO!!!!!!
President of Faygo: Jinx. You owe me a Coke!

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A dialogue between a man and his flaccid penis

by Tom Sunnergren June 18, 2007

Man- Hey…hey man. Hey man…wake up dude. She’ll be back in a minute.

Penis-

Man- Seriously dude. Snap out of it. We had like seven drinks man, stop acting like such a pussy and get up. She’s just using the bathroom, she’ll be back in like two minutes. Stop messing around.

Penis-

Man- Is this about Wendy? I already apologized about Wendy. If I had known then what we know now, I wouldn’t have sent you in there without backup. You know that man. I would never put you in harms way on purpose. And I took care of it didn’t I? Didn’t I take care of it?

Penis-

Man- (Raises voice) I put my reputation on the line for you and this is how you fucking repay me. By choking when I need you the most. You were running goddamn laps yesterday while Home Improvement was on for Christ sakes and now you’re doing this to me? I swear to God I’ll…

Penis-

Man- Alright, I’m sorry. I was out of line there. Just please baby. Come one, just like we practiced.

Penis-

Man- Oh god, I hear her coming man, please pull it together. Give me five good minutes…four good minutes…two minutes?

(Sarah emerges from the bathroom and lays down on the bed. However, she leaves shortly after it becomes clear that Penis won’t be cooperative. When she returns home she and her friends make fun of Man relentlessly.)

Man- I wasn’t going to wear a condom anyway.

Penis-

Tune in next week for “Dialogue between man and his erect penis during weigh-ins at wrestling tournament.”

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Jackson Stonehenge, Death Row Comic

by Tom Sunnergren June 18, 2007

In a story way too bizarre to reveal here, last May the Texas penal review board inexplicably granted serial rapist Jackson Stonehenge one final request before his execution…performing a stand-up routine in front of his fellow death row inmates!

(Jackson walks onto a crude stage set up at the front of the packed prison cafeteria. He hasn’t been this nervous since he was sentenced to death for raping and murdering five women in three states. He clears his throat…)

“So, I’m sitting in a diner drawing pictures of cats getting their tails ripped off on a cocktail napkin when I get the urge to rape somebody.”

(Out of the side of his mouth)

“It was one of those days.”

(Scattered laughter)

“So I pick out this brunette who looks like she needs somebody to lord over her and dominate her and crush her. Well, she was actually the first girl I saw…I’m not that picky. It’s a rape, not a dinner dance for Christ sakes. Anyway, I go to make my move to rape her when I think, ‘wait, am I gonna kill her before or after I do it?’”

(Uproarious laughter)

“Do I murder-rape or rape-murder her?”

(Laughter heightens)

“There’s pros and cons to each side of it. I mean, who doesn’t love a good fight when you’re trying to steal her power from her and penetrate her against her will. Then again, who likes getting kicked in the nuts.”

(Laughter)

“I mean except for Rob.”

(Rob, a pedophile, blushes, then joins in the laughter)

“I guess on the plus side killing them first makes it easier, but who wants to have sex with somebody who’s dead. It’s a little gross, though it’s not that bad if you just killed them. It’s not like you’re raping Nancy Reagan’s corpse…oh wait, she’s still alive.”

(Laughter, somebody in the crowd stabs somebody)

“I wouldn’t rape her with the warden’s dick.”

(Explosive laughter)

“Anyway, long story short I followed her into the alley and stabbed her in the neck with my keys and raped her. She died while I did it, so the whole thing ended up being a mute point. It was the fifth time I’d done it."

"I guess there’s something seriously wrong with me.”

Five days later Jackson Stonehenge was killed via lethal injection.

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Google Maps Invites You to a Field Party Friday Night

by Katie Marino June 20, 2007

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Intelligent Designs

by Katie Marino June 20, 2007

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Remember That Time I Blacked Out? Me Neither.

by Brian Zitelli June 10, 2007

    For those of you that may not know me, I have a propensity for drinking copious amounts of alcohol, often to the point where I am no longer able to form new memories. For years I operated under the assumption that if I couldn't remember what happened it must have been totally sweet. After a while, I started to become a little upset that I was missing out on all of this awesomeness, so I decided to take action.
    The plan was glorious in its simplicity: I hired a naive freshman to follow me around and document my exploits. Finally, I would know how cool I was being, how sweet I looked, and have a definitive record of all the hot action I was surely scoring.
    So here, in detail, is a log of my activities on the night of April 17, 2007.

8PM- Power Hour. Mix consisted of "Thunder Horse" on repeat 28 times.
8:54PM- Puke and Rally(almost made it!)- This was going to be a good night!
9PM- Puke and Rally- Don't judge me.
9-10PM- Pregaming continues- So far so good.

To this point I am aware of my actions and everything is OK. However as my BAC rises, I things become hazy.

10:37PM- Shot down by Elise "The Red Barron" Smithton- This was followed by 14 solid minutes of weeping.
11:21PM- I order a mandatory sing-a-long to Michael Jackson's Thriller- The situation becomes tense when I call everyone retarded for not knowing the dance.
11:34PM- I order a pizza for delivery.
12:07AM- The Pizza arrives- I apparently challenged the delivery boy to a bare-knuckle boxing match in the back yard. This explains the mysterious bruises to my ribcage. The match ends abruptly when I vomit on the other contender.
12:23-12:27AM- Dry humping anything/anyone in sight.
12:27-12:28AM- Making out with Suzy "Goodyear" Jones- This only lasted about 45 seconds to a minute because I apparently recognized what was happening.
12:36AM-1:02AM- Drunken dissertation about why Raphael was the best turtle.
1:14AM- An ill fated attempt to get another pizza, this time from the pizzeria itself, ends in tragedy when I vomit again on the same guy I fought only an hour or so before. Honestly, I don't know where all this puke is coming from, but I can't seem to stop it.
1:42AM- I drunk dial my mother.
2:13AM- After failing to obtain a refund from the all-night tattoo parlor I stumble down the street to an ex-girlfriend's apartment complex and scream insults until I collapse on the sidewalk. I was later told that I had in fact been standing outside of a senior-citizen high rise.
2:31AM- Two kindly souls drag my unconscious body back to my house and drop me on the couch where I awake the next day at 1PM, remembering little to nothing of the previous night.

Upon reviewing these notes, I learned something important. I learned that it's not what's on the outside that matters, its the matter on the inside that you spew forth that really counts. That, and I also learned that I'm no longer welcome at Pizza Perfecto.

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If I Ruled the World...

by Katie Marino June 02, 2007

These songs would be included on Guitar Hero III (I'm talking to you, Red Octane).

What: "Why Don't You Get a Job" by The Offspring
Why: Besides the appeal of being almost "Ob La Di, Ob La Da" and the inevitable "Hey, I totally forgot about The Offspring since I lost my American Pie 2 soundtrack CD!" that will be exclaimed by your friends when they see it on the set list, my boyfriend is a lazy piece of sh*t, and I can't think of a better way to tell him than by playing this song over and over and over again.

What: "Cats in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin
Why: My dad is a rock star, and now every time he asks me why I'm "wasting my time playing some piece of sh*t guitar video game instead of going to school," I can say, "I'm gonna be like you, dad. You know I'm gonna be like you." Plus I want to find a way to make him cry that doesn't involve me spending all his money on new purses.

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