Codependent Collegian

Left: Jordan is at his wist end

(Philadelphia, PA) Dyslexia has proven to be "challenging" for sophomore Bradley Jordan in the past, but his latest Comp II assignment has the business major "stumped worse than my reading disability."

"I've looked everywhere for Lord of the Files , and I can't even locate the book," said a discouraged Jordan. "I mean, why do they assign texts that are not available?"

Jordan said that he was especially disappointed that none of the study guide makers provided notes.

"I checked with Cliffs Notes, SparkNotes, and even the paper mills," he said, burying his head in his hands. "It's like these people have never even heard of Lord of the Files ."

With the deadline for the paper approaching, Jordan is weighing his options.

"I'm guessing that Lord of the Files is like the movies Clerks or Office Space or something," he said of the William Golding novel. "But if I don't get something on paper soon, I'm gonna be luck out of shit. May dog have mercy on my soul."

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

Left: McKenzie and Goddard— stroking one another’s beakers?

(Lexington, KY)—The life of a graduate teaching assistant at the University of Kentucky is a thankless, repetitive job, according to Terrance Williams, who splits his time between studying for rigorous seminar courses and helping sophomoric undergraduates complete their lab assignments for Chemistry 101.

This all changed a few short weeks ago, however, when two bodacious co-eds— Alicia McKenzie and Michelle Goddard— started to explicitly flirt with one another in the lab, thus infecting Williams with a recurring fantasy that the pair will “totally dyke out” during his observation time.


“At first I thought: this can’t be happening,” Williams revealed while gingerly rinsing a shoe box full of glass stir-sticks. “I mean, they started to pony-tail each other’s hair and shit like that. I assumed they were in a sorority together, but apparently they met in this class at the beginning of the semester.”

Williams continued to strongly assert that McKenzie and Goddard’s relationship was more than platonic.

“Dude, you wouldn’t believe some of this stuff even if I had it on film,” Williams intoned. “Last week, Alicia reached into Michelle’s pocket to turn her cell phone ringer off — and her hand stayed in there. For 15 minutes. Those two are always closer than a couple of mice in a shot glass."

And despite his fervent self-admonishment, Williams cannot resist the hope that the partners will engage in a “straight-up dyke fest” before the semester ends in December.

“Yesterday they came into Lab 207 during my evening shift,” Williams revealed in a mild whisper. “I mean, I don’t think they even saw me during that first hour —Michelle gave Alicia a fucking backrub because ‘the apron hurt her shoulders.’ Please. These chicks will be naked and finger-blasting on a dissection table before midterms, mark my word.”

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

(Worcester, MA)—Holy Cross freshman Jake Gibbons thought college would be relatively simple since, as a home-schooled youth, he relished the intellectual stimulation and bottomless energy of his mother, Jan, who served tirelessly as both a single parent and solitary educator for over a dozen years.

Much to Gibbons’ dismay, however, he has tested exclusively into remedial courses and still cannot decipher his college syllabi even after a month of coursework.

“I’m fucking doomed, man,” remarked Gibbons while pacing his smallish dorm room. “Is the stuff listed for next Tuesday what I’m supposed to read for next Tuesday, or is that the homework that’ll be assigned next Tuesday? Jesus. The last exam mom gave was on an episode of Veggie Tales. Now I need to know what a ‘quotient’ is.”

Left: Gibbons is beginning to have doubts about the pedagogical value of the Veggies

Gibbons appeared even more flustered since he encountered profound difficulty contacting his instructors outside of class.

“Do these office hours make any sense to you?” huffed a visibly exasperated Gibbons. “Does this ‘T’ stand for Tuesday or Thursday? And is this 7 a.m. or 7 p.m.? I shit you not—I was outside Dr. Robardt’s office last night until 9:30, and that old bastard didn’t show up once. You’d think a guy teaching ENGL-064 would be a stickler for clarity. I mean, most of the kids in that class are like, from other countries and stuff.”

Ironically, Gibbons was so confident about his academic abilities that he spent all summer changing his physical aesthetic in a ploy to gain social acceptance. Now, it seems, his entire future hangs in the balance.

“My buddy [Ryan Trowser] asked me back in May if mom had a college degree, and brother, I just shrugged it off,” Gibbons lamented. “Of course she did, I said. How the hell could she be qualified to teach if she didn’t have any schooling herself? If I’d known she barely finished her GED, I would’ve spent the last four months in a library instead of growing my hair out.”

Left: Cochrane will not stand for dissing of the Man

(Washington, DC) After hearing Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez call President Bush "the Devil" at the United Nations, Georgetown University education major Tad Cochrane felt he had to speak out.

"Oh no he didn't! He absolutely does not come in our house and talk smack," said Cochrane, shaking his head. "Chavez is lucky I'm in DC. If I were home in the Bronx, I'd be driving to the UN right now to kick his South American ass, that's fo sho."

Chavez continued his criticism of Bush during a visit to Harlem today, calling the President "a sick man" who "walks like John Wayne." Cochrane issued a prediction of the result of a hypothetical fight between Chavez and himself.


"If Chavez and me was going at it mano a mano, there would be only two sounds: me hitting him, and him crying like a little baby for his mamacita," he said, pounding his fist into his palm for effect. "I would bitch-slap that taco-eating Commie all the way back to Rio de Janeiro, or wherever the hell he's from. And yo - what's wit dat gay-ass beret, anyways?"

Cochrane, who said that he can be "one bad-ass MoFo" when angered, said that he "totally has the President's back" on this one.

"Yeah, buddy - GWB and me are tight as fuck, all right," he said. "Nobody talks shit about mah niggah George W, fo sho."

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

Walsh and Shapur celebrate over a plate of potato skins

(Washington, D.C.)—For the first two weeks of the fall semester, American University freshmen Jake Walsh and Benji Shapur were strangely coy about their sexual habits, leaving their masturbatory routines open to chance.

That all changed this weekend, however, when both men explicitly agreed to a mutually acceptable schedule that would eliminate the possibility of exposure or embarrassment.

“Those first few weeks were crazy, man,” said Shapur, visibly relieved by the new agreement. “We didn’t know each other’s schedules, his parents would drop by randomly with extra clothes—it was brutal. Thank Vishnu everything’s settled: Tuesdays, Fridays, and every other Sunday are all mine.”

Walsh echoed his roommate’s ecstatic relief over the brokerage.

“Listen: I’m a big man—I’m talkin’ John Goodman big. There’s no way for me to just pound one out whenever I have a few extra minutes,” Walsh explained. “I don’t want to get graphic, but I sweat. A lot. But now, with the new pact, I have time to shower, sip a cup of green tea…it’s a good thing.”

Left: Both men used their business hands to seal the deal

And while skeptics may cite the pair’s disregard for actual intercourse as a gross oversight in the agreement, both seem content for the time being.

“There’s no way either one of us is getting laid,” rebuffed a candid Shapur, adjusting his glasses. “We’ve been trolling for a pity-fuck for a combined total of 9 years. The day one of us comes home to find the other screwing is the day I clean out our fridge. And have you seen that thing? It smells like a Bengalese dumpster.”

Ellsworth warms up in front of flaming furniture

(Columbus, OH) Phi Kappa Tau members at Ohio State University, interviewed by the Codependent Collegian, were unanimous in their assessment of the merits of couch-burning.

"Oh yeah - nothing beats a good couch fire," said fraternity president Mark Ellsworth. "We call our celebration 'Burning Sofa.' It's kind of like that 'Burning Man' deal out in the desert, except we use an old couch here."

About 40 couch fires were reported around the OSU campus after the top-ranked Buckeyes' 24-7 win at then-No. 2 Texas last Saturday night. Ellsworth said that the other couch-burning groups were "posers."

"We literally invented 'Burning Sofa,' but all these other wannabes copied off of us," he said of the East 15th Avenue fraternity. "Hell, our mission statement says it all: To champion a lifelong commitment to brotherhood, learning, ethical leadership and exemplary character, and to, like, burn a shitload of couches. I say, amen to that, mon."

Left: Phi Kappa Tau seal (click for larger image)

Ellsworth said that it is a "sacred tradition" to set couches on fire after sporting victories, and that Phi Kappa Tau was "totally in the right on this one."

"This goes way back to the Greeks themselves, who used to totally torch their stone couches. This was the Stone Age, dude. If they couldn't get them to burn, they would smash them," he said. "People who want to end couch burning are not only lamers, but bad at their history and shit. For sure, they should read a book or something."

Left: Redefining slackage

(East Lansing, MI) Economics professor Melvin Stockwell confided to Codependent Collegian reporters that he hasn't exactly been the most productive member of his department of late.

"In fact, I haven't done a noteworthy thing in a couple of decades," he said, pausing to add a word to a crossword puzzle. "Once I got tenure in 1981 I pretty much started loafing."

Stockwell said that, at first, he was a bit ashamed by his lack of productivity.

"I got over that pretty quickly, though," he said. "One of the best parts of this job is that there's not much the university can do if I don't feel like publishing anything."

Stockwell's lack of enthusiasm carries over to the classroom.

"I haven't updated my overhead slides in about 15 years," he said, holding up a yellowed sheet with the word "Reaganomics" on it. "I'm sure that my students are getting the short end of the stick, but hey - this will teach them not to blindly trust everything they hear."

Left: Stockwell's got your lecture prep right here, mister

One of the bright points of his academic career, said Stockwell, is that he does not have to worry about retirement.

"For all intents and purposes I have ceased to work anyways," he said. "I have TAs do all the grading and discussions, and about the only work I do is to cash my paycheck. Why would I want to leave a good gig like this?"

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

Left: Davison's spotty profile

(Omaha, NE)—University of Nebraska junior Holly Davison has been the “quiet, intellectual type” her entire academic career, suffering from acne in solitude while her peers party, pull pranks, and drunkenly cheer for their beloved Huskers any given Saturday.

However, Davison decided to do away with her old image this fall, and has reinvented herself as Nebraska’s newest slut as a means to overcome her blotchy complexion.

“She’s got a great body and face, but bro, those zits could stop traffic,” recalled Zach ‘Attack’ Gibbons, a leading member of the Pi Gamma Mu fraternity. “I couldn’t help myself last Friday though—she was all over me after two beers, and whispered some of the nastiest shit I’ve ever heard. Next morning I had to Google ‘Indian Teabag’ to see if it was legal. I’ll say this: it shouldn’t be.”

Not surprisingly, Gibbons is only one of a growing number of students who have been at the precarious crossroads between sexual intrigue and dermatological repulsion with Davison’s blatant advances.

“Yeah, I bagged that Davison chick — twice in the same night,” reflected Jon Michaels, a backup javelin thrower on the Huskers outdoor track team. “I dribbled a pearl necklace all around those neck zits of hers, too…there’s a picture on [roommate] Carl’s MySpace page, if you want to check it out.”

Left: If you've got a pulse, you're golden, dude

And while many of Davison’s most intimate associates have expressed concern about her newfound promiscuity, only time will tell if she will abandon such wanton behavior.

“I brought it up — you know, how she’s fucking everybody on campus now — when we were studying last Tuesday,” recollected Sarah Hopkins, a close friend. “But then she tried to kiss me. It was gross - full tongue. As soon as I get my panties back, I’m never talking to her again.”

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

(Coral Gables, FL)—University of Miami sophomore Danny Nichols is no stranger to the collegiate lifestyle: he knows all the shortcuts around campus, he can live on Ramen noodles for weeks, and he isn’t embarrassed to carry his own toilet paper into the dorm bathroom to avoid chaffing.

One thing he can’t seem to tolerate, however, is the never-ending stream of emails he receives from his extended family, which provide him with superfluous updates from the wider Nichols clan.

“Both my parents are second-generation Italian, so I have like, a zillion relatives here [in Florida] and in the Old Country,” Nichols explained while sorting his dirty laundry. “But goddamn if I need 27 pictures of Cousin Celia’s pregnant-ass belly. I don’t care how excited she is about having her first kid—that shit is sick. I couldn’t get hard for a week after seeing all those stretch marks and veins.”


Left: Celia's stretch marks are really unnecessary information

Nichols expressed concern that his working-class kin don’t respect the rigors of university life.

“My grandmother is now sending me a daily newsletter from CNN—she must think I’m in jail or something,” Nichols huffed. “I appreciate the care packages, but that’s where this shit should end. And you know that dancing baby from 1998? Well apparently Uncle Howard in Pensacola thinks it’s a hoot. I know, because he’s sent me nine forwards this week. I can’t wait for that old fucker to stroke out while eating a big plate of fettuccini…then we’ll both be at peace.”

A Codependent Collegian Guest Editorial by Marc Thompson

Thompson navigates another wrong building

This isn’t supposed to happen on the second day of class. I mean, I got up early this morning, had two cups of coffee—hell, I even showered—and was totally psyched for my Intro to Sociology class. (I hear Professor Mischaw is a total fox!)

And now here I am, lost in the middle of Georgia Tech’s big-ass campus, with no fucking clue where HUM 309 is.


But really, the problem isn’t being lost. I get lost all the time. When Dave [Baxter, close high school friend] and I went to see Tom Petty in July, we spent two hours trying to find the freeway out of Atlanta. Granted, we had smoked an entire ounce of Maui Wowie in a Coke can bong, but still, the directions we got from that gypsy chick selling hemp necklaces were truly substandard. I’m digressing, but you get my point—these things happen.

Left: Hostile, shark-like classmates just waiting to strike

The real issue is that I now have to walk into a lecture hall 28…make that 29 goddamn minutes late, looking like a jackass in front of a zillion other people. With my luck, the only seat open will be next to some blonde goddess with an incredible rack, and my hard-on will make an audible clack on the underside of my desk.

And I’m glad that Georgia Tech hired Haseem here as their only work-study student at the campus information counter. This guy has the IQ of a porn star, and speaks less English than my great aunt Mabel, whose Alzheimer’s is so bad she shits in her wheelchair.

So if you see me wandering about campus, help a brother out. Just get me to the right building, and I’ll make it worth your while—there’s a frozen pizza and half a joint back in my dorm room with your name on it.

Guest editorial from Alice Krepsky, barmaid at the Knotty Pine Inn

Listen, you little bastards. I’ve been tending bar here at the Knotty Pine for fifty years, and I don’t need you college punks coming in here and giving my regulars a hard time.

Sure, you’ve got five dollars in your designer ripped jeans. Big whoopidy doo! Does that give you the right to turn off One Life to Live on the big screen TV? I don’t care if it’s Snoop Dog or Puffy Dog or Wonder Dog, that shit’s gotta go.

Just because we have the $1.50 shot-and-a-beer special on Wednesday mornings doesn’t mean we expect to fill the place with a bunch of rowdy-ass frat boys and their slutty girlfriends. That special is for the hard-working regulars on the third shift, not a bunch of hopped-up young creeps who haven’t been to bed since last week.

No, sir, this is a clean establishment and a family place.

Another thing: in this bar, if you make a mess, you clean it up. You have no business going into the bathrooms and puking like it’s your own private heave bucket. Last week one of you little bastards thought it would be funny to puke in the paper towel dispenser. Let me tell you, that was some awful shit. If I hear one of you in their puking, I’m coming in with a mop handle, and let’s just say I ain’t gonna be mopping.

Left: NOT a tip jar, thank you very much

Now, to the matter of tips. I am a working woman, and I depend on tips to survive. Look at me—do I look like I am going to land any marriage prospects any time soon? I think not. While I appreciate the occasional fifty cents you cheap assholes sometimes leave, I do not think I should have to fish it out of the urinal. That is just wrong, sonny-boy.

So, if you want to drink here, you boys and girls had better shape up or ship out. Alice Krepsky didn’t raise seven children by being a pushover, and you are not going to come in here and act like hooligans.

What? You want blue-cheese stuffed olives? Where the hell do you think you are, Little Lord Fauntleroy?

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

(Norman, OK)—University of Oklahoma junior Katie Allen has spent the past three years of her live cramming and slaving toward a pre-med degree, much to the detriment of her imaginative spirit.

But with only three semesters left, Allen has decided to switch majors and pursue her life-long dream in theatre, thus assuring her a life of poverty, disenchantment, and parental disappointment.

“My dad always wanted me to be a doctor, and I do have a gift for helping people,” remarked Allen while painting a set piece for an upcoming fall production. “But it struck me this week: why should I, like, keep working so hard when I could be in [the University of Oklahoma’s revival of] Guys and Dolls?”

Left: Allen all Dolled up

Mr. Allen did not find his daughter’s logic very persuasive.

“Sixteen grand a year for tuition, and now she wants to hang out with these goth kids and sing show tunes?” barked John Allen while pouring himself a glass of Grey Goose. “I worked overtime for twenty years so she wouldn’t have to follow me into sales. Jesus. She might as well marry that Mexican kid [childhood friend Mark Consuelo], have a zillion brown babies and start banging dope into her arm.”

And while Mrs. Allen did not endorse her husband’s grim pronouncements, she seemed doubtful about her daughter’s artistic abilities.

“I love my Katie, but the girl can’t sing,” lamented a teary-eyed Theresa Allen. “I never told her this, but the whole reason we bought a VCR for the basement playroom was because I couldn’t stand her singing along to the ‘Wizard of Oz.’ Now I have to watch her do community theatre until I die.”

(Washington, DC) Georgetown junior education major Tad Cochrane was "highly pissed" that his dorm partner Pete told him the ending to the new film "United 93."

"That was a completely bogus thing to do," said Cochrane. "We were sitting there, gnawing on some popcorn, and then he blurts out:"You know they're all gonna die, right?" I mean, what kind of shit is that?"

Cochrane said that the spoiling of the plot was "way uncool."

"I was all like, "What the fuck?" What kind of twisted person spoils endings like that?" he asked. "I plunked down $10.50 for the ticket and another $20 in munchies because we just blazed a fat-ass Blunt, and then Pete goes and wrecks everything."

Cochrane does not plan to seek revenge for the act.

"But you can bet I won't see a movie with that retard again, at least not first-run," he said. "And no way in hell am I going to stop nailing his sister Maya, either. In fact, I think I'll make sure we are getting jiggy in the dorm when he comes home tonight just to fuck with him, the prick."

Guest advice column by college freshman Kyle Hofstrau

Dear Hard-Up College Freshman:

My boyfriend and I have been going out for two years, and things are getting pretty serious. Still, I'm not sure we are ready for marriage (he's 22 and I'm 21), but I think he's about to propose. What should I do?-----Jada in State College, PA

Dear Jada:

Jesus Christ, I haven't been with a girl since 8th grade, and, considering she was my second cousin, I'm not sure that counts. Plus, all I did was cop a quick feel, and it really wasn't worth getting caught, plus the counseling sessions and being politely barred from all future family reunions. Listen - if things don't work out, could I like call you sometime? Well, thanks anyhow.

Dear Hard-Up College Freshman:

My boyfriend has been cheating on me with another girl in my sorority, and now I have two problems: a guy I don't trust and a skanky hoe of a sorority 'sister' who would spread her legs to anyone who would say 'boo.' HELP!!-----Larissa in Des Moines

Dear Larissa:

Man, would I would give to have a girlfriend. I would never cheat on her, and I would do anything she asked of me. I would bring her flowers in the morning, kisses in the afternoon, and strawberries at bedtime. By the way - can I have the number of that girl from your sorority house? What?!?! She moved out? Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. DAMMITT!!! I have the worst luck.

Dear Hard-Up College Freshman:

I have a real problem here. My girlfriend's best friend, who is really hot and really smart, has been hinting that she'd like to start going out with me. I don't want to cheat on my girlfriend, but I am really attracted to her best friend. What would you do?-----Torn in Tempe

Dear Torn:

Are you kidding me? Are you really just fucking with me? I haven't been with a girl in so long that my cock is about to wither from disuse, and you wind up with TWO hotties? Where's the justice, man? Just die, man, DIE. What did I ever do to God to make Him start toying with me, anyways? My life is beyond pathetic.