Codependent Collegian

Guest Editorial by Jared Crenshaw, Penn State Class of 2009

Some guys, as they say, have all the luck.

Like that little kid named David from Malawi, for instance. One day he's crawling in the mud with a hundred other AIDS orphans, then BAM! Madonna adopts his lucky ass.

I wish that Madonna would consider adopting me.

Yeah, I know I leave my shit all over the dorm, but if Madonna was my mother I would put everything away where it belongs. I'd even sweep, for Chrissakes, although I'd draw the line at dishes. Hey - isn't that why she's got a butler?

Would you be my mommy? Please?

If Madonna adopted me, she wouldn't have any custody problems like with that Malawian goat-herder. My mom and step-dad didn't even notice I left for college, and my old man's such a drunken sot he could probably get bought off with three months' trailer rent.

If she wanted, I wouldn't mind Madonna dressing me up like a baby, and - unlike her Malawi brat - I'm all about the breastfeeding. I'll bet that kid is so hooked on the bottle that he could never take to the proffered breast, like I would. Mmmmmm!

Plus, let's face facts. Madonna is the Queen of Freak, and you just know she's going to want to get all Oedipal on a kid at some point. And let's just say that I got his toddler ass beat in that department. Bad.

So, I know you're out there reading this, Madonna. Call me, Mommy, 'kay?

Labels: adoption, Madonna, Penn State

Subcomandante Bob was once a college student like you, racking up massive student loans, living off credit card debt, and bouncing checks like it was his full time job.

There comes a point in time when we all must grow up. Well, Bob hasn't hit that point yet, but most of you will. When that time comes, and you need to find out about debt consolidation, be sure to check out the fine folks at CareOneCredit.com.

They can help you lower your monthly payments by up to 57%, while helping you consolidate your debts into one easy payment. CareOneCredit.com offers debt help resources in their library of articles, and they can teach you to develop smart money management skills.

Even though this is a sponsored post, Bob wants you to get some serious help with your crazy finances. CareOneCredit.com can give you that help, and when you have fixed your debt problems, you'll be in a better position to loan Bob some money.

Labels: CareOneCredit.com

Guest editorial by Kyle Richter, Penn State Class of 2008

It was a dark and stormy night (really, it was!) and I had just gotten off work at my job in the student union. I pulled my coat closer to me to keep the November wind out, and that's when I saw her: Angelina Jolie, sex goddess and Pitt-meat muncher.

She was standing next to my car, wearing nothing but a yellow raincoat and a pair of cheap WalMart flip-flops. I started to say something but she interrupted.

"Shut the fuck up and open the car door!" she screamed at me.

Oka-a-a-a-a-y, then! I unlocked my 1987 Honda and she got in, opening her coat and showing off her hot body.

"Let's do this," she muttered, unzipping my fly and pressing those lips on my beefsteak. She slurped on my business like she hadn't eaten in a week, and - if I hadn't whacked off in the john about 5:00 when I saw this Delta Phi babe walk by the food court where I work - I would have blown my load in about 12 seconds.

I lasted about three minutes before payday, and she greedily inhaled every drop of my spooge, making this weird grunting noise that sounded kind of like a gazelle choking on a wad of savannah grass.

I only know that sound from watching this shitty Animal Planet episode; it was like "hurnk! hurnk! hurnk!"

She got out of the car, turned around, and said to me: "Don't say a fucking word to anyone about this, ass-face, or I will come back and kick your teeth in."

And she meant it, too. But I figure: it's been three months, and if she was going to kick my ass, she'd have done it by now, because everyone in the Quad already knows about me and my blowjob from Angelina Jolie.

And, while I admit it was pretty cool getting sucked off by her, Angelina Jolie takes to a dick like a hillbilly gnawing on a corncob. I looked down afterward, and my shaft was black and blue, dude. Straight up, hand-to-God - freakiest night of my life.

Labels: Angelina Jolie, blowjob, Penn State

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

The boys with their boob balloons before the arrival of the mystery guest

(Toledo, OH)—Four graduate students at the University of Toledo awoke this morning to pounding headaches, bitter mouths, and another lazy afternoon of swapping sex stories from the night before.

Curiously, though, they also woke to the discovery of a pair of ‘mystery panties,’ left by an unidentified female reveler the night before.

“I had one of those really cleansing pukes around 9 o'clock, so I stumbled into the kitchen to see if there were any Pop Tarts left,” remarked Chuck Ewing, a PhD candidate in mathematics. “I rounded the corner only to find this silky pair of black panties just, like, chilling on the linoleum. And brother, we’ve had some blowouts in the past, but this tops ‘em all.”

Roommate Vic Martin shared a similar sentiment about the origin of the naughty briefs.

“I didn’t know whether to get turned on or ralph again,” Martin huffed while wiping the rum sweat from his brow. “Normally there’s some sort of protocol for this — if the chick was hot, we all take turns smelling ‘em. If she was a fatty, we burn ‘em in the back yard. But this… it’s like a fucking Gordian knot. Except it’s not really a knot. It’s a pair of panties.”

Flyer being designed by the boys to help solve the mystery

Gerhard Stuttgart, who claims to be the last roommate with a few clear memories after midnight, thinks he remembers pieces of a brief encounter with the mystery woman.

"She was a stranger-girl, one of those amazing creatures you meet for only a few moments before you've each gone your separate ways," he said, looking wistfully into the distance as her sipped a warm beer from the previous night. "I enjoy falling in love with strangers, because they will never be anything more than the fantasies you make up about them, and reality will never interfere. She had this beautiful red hair, so unbelievably crimson that it was hard to tell where it ended and the shrimp sauce spilled on the couch began. I can still feel how momentous that moment was, and it felt so big I thought it might fuck up the planetary gravitational forces and bring a chunk of the gray winter sky crashing down on Toledo. That, or it was the three tabs of acid I had just chewed, but I'm pretty sure those hadn't kicked in yet."

Labels: hangovers, panties, University of Toledo

(Ann Arbor, MI) Residents of the University of Michigan's South Quad were evacuated this evening after the detonation of a pair of so-called "dirty bombs."

The source of the olfactory-damaging explosions was traced to the fourth-floor room of a pair of third-year business majors, neither of whom would take responsibility for the methane-based eruptions.

"Uh, don't look at me," said Clint Larimer, fanning the offensive odors out the window. "I walked in and the wicked stank was so bad it made my fucking eyes water."

Larimer's roommate, Kevin Worley, also denied responsibility for the noxious laying of the wind loafage.

"Hey man - Clint brought that shit with him. He's been reeking up this room for a solid week now," said Worley, shirttail covering his face for protection. "He's always pulling that turd honking routine, then looking at me like I'm going to take the fall for him. No sir, not me this time. Last week he stunk up the room so bad my nose hairs fell out."

Left: lingering vapors from the rectal tremors defile the South Quad cafeteria

Ann Arbor authorities believe the students could be trying to maximize the panic from their tail wind attacks by the use of such noxious vapors.

"It is an indication of maliciousness, a desire to injure and kill innocent people in the vicinity," said Michael Carver, police spokesman. "If there is a particular success, we'll see copycats. They certainly pay attention to what they think is successful."

Labels: dirty bombs, University of Michigan

Left: Initial stash of stray condiments

(Columbus, OH) Members of the OSU chapter of Sigma Phi Epsilon have started a "unique humanitarian effort" designed to aid area homeless shelters.

Entitled "Condiments for the Homeless," the volunteer campaign seeks to match those in need with those who have plenty, said fraternity president Allen Jacobs.

"Pretty basically, we saw that our main refrigerator was 'busting at the seams,' shall we say, with leftover ketchup, soy sauce, and Taco Bell sauce packets," he said, filling a grocery bag with the condiments. "We got to thinking that there were probably many frats and sororities with the same problem, and a lot of homeless people who have no relish packs for whatever food those people get fed."

Jacobs said that the SigEps took the idea to the Greek Council, and the rest "was like history."

"Our Greek brothers and sisters have really stepped up and answered the call," he said. "We have almost a trunk full of these valuable food accoutrements to take to the homeless shelter downtown, and you have to know there's a lot of good nutrition in this stuff. Plus, we only take packets that have been refrigerated, not like left in the glove box or anything."

Left: SigEps pose for group photo

Jacobs said that the brothers of SigEp "pride themselves" on eliminating the “Animal House” reputation that is often associated with fraternities.

"Sigma Phi Epsilon is designed to promote leaders as well as gentlemen," he proudly added. "We feel that we have, in some small way, helped bring a little light into the lives of the less fortunate, as well as making progress on cleaning out our skanky fridge."

Labels: condiments, homeless, Ohio State

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

Hewitt: Hairy and forlorn

(Grand Forks, ND)—University of North Dakota mathematics professor James Hewitt has enjoyed a relatively peaceful start to his spring term: his new students are receptive, the administration is pleased with his progress, and his private research is advancing smoothly.

However, a scathing evaluation posted earlier this week on the website RateMyProfessors.com has been the bane of Hewitt’s existence for several days, and has led him to question his entire academic career.

“You know, I had a great fall semester—out of nearly 60 students, only 3 failed,” Hewitt remarked while rocking gently in his office swivel chair. “So I cannot fucking believe one of those little brats gave me a clarity rating of 1 [on a scale of 5] and wrote that I ‘concocted grades like Merlin cuz he totally doesnt care bout students fo’shizzle.’ I’ve had to drink three fingers of Johnnie Walker every day this week just to get a few hours of shut-eye.”

Hewitt attempted to rationalize the motivation behind this fiercely personal attack.

“Maybe this individual was just confused—my syllabus was too challenging, or they didn’t understand my lectures on Pythagoras, and are now lashing out at me,” Hewitt contemplated while playing an antiquated digital version of solitaire on his laptop. “You and I both know that I only have a few years left in this profession, so my legacy means everything. I only hope someone flags this posting so it goes under review. Otherwise, I might as well move back to Osnabrock and sell tractors with my uncle.”

Labels: Osnabrock, ratemyprofessors.com, University of North Dakota

(Columbus, OH) Ohio State sophomore Ashlee Herrington, speaking with Codependent Collegian reporters in her dorm bathroom, expressed relief at making it back to the comfort of her own bathroom.

"I did have too much to drink," she acknowledged, suppressing a dry heave as she tried to recall her evening. "But I think it was all that sushi, Junior Mints, and salsa I ate before the fraternity kegger that really did me in. I'm a regular Anna Nicole Smith, except I'm not blonde and I'm not dead."

Herrington, an early childhood education major, admitted that she is something of a "lightweight" when it comes to drinking, and this makes her a bit of an anomaly among her peers.

"Ten, twelve beers and I'm just about toast," she said, pausing to gurgle out a mouthful of bilious vomit. "I hang with a bunch of big-time drunks, and I end up like this at least twice a month. You'd think I would learn, but I never seem to know when to quit, and the Kappa Alphas are known to spike drinks with syrup of Ipecac."

There's no place like the toilet at home, sweet home

Making it back to her own toilet is an important weekend goal for Herrington, she said, wiping dried barf remnants from her cheek.

"I feel really bad when I blow chunks in someone else's bathroom," she admitted, letting loose with another Technicolor yawn as reporters dodged the sloshing spewage. "Plus, it's pretty gross to stick your head where, like, twelve guys just pissed. My toilet is always clean, well-lit, and never judgmental, you know?"

Labels: kegger, Ohio State, puking, toilets

Left: Hammond examines site of 'strange gurgling'

(Athens, GA) University of Georgia sophomore Bradley Hammond, in an exclusive interview with Codependent Collegian writers, reported that "totally non-human noises" have been emananting from his intestines since this morning.

"There's definitely something bizarre going on in there," he said, lifting his shirt and pointing. "I have never heard anything like this before, and frankly - I'm worried. Like Anna Nicole Smith kind of worried."

Hammond believes that the gastrointestinal disturbance may be related to his food and beverage consumption last night.

"I did drink quite a lot of beer, plus I ate a half-dozen chili dogs and a couple of orders of onion rings," he admitted. "I think that the leftover cabbage rolls that I packed away just before I crashed might have really done me in, though."

What most concerns the borborygmi-afflicted engineering student is the uncertain outcome he faces.

"If this is going to turn out to be just some wicked farts and a giant turd, I'm OK with that," he said. "But I am afraid this might be a sign of a world-class case of the Hershey squirts, in which case I'll be chained to the toilet for the next two days. I definitely don't look forward to 36 hours of non-stop rectal tabasco, you know?"

Labels: abdomen, borborygmi, borborygmus

By Billy Pilgrim, Codependent Collegian Rogue Editor

(Washington, D.C.)—George Mason University history professor Mitch Crower is, by most accounts, an exceptional educator. His student evaluations are consistently high, he always responds to emails in a timely manner, and his lectures on Civil War battles are nothing short of stirring.

Crower’s HIST-312 students were in for a rude awakening this morning, however, when Crower delivered his entire lecture on 1870s Reconstruction in the Deep South with a raging boner.

“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” remarked sophomore Tim Paney, as he lazily thumbed through a worn, coverless copy of a Howard Zinn text. “I mean, I’m totally hetero, but it’s impossible not to stare at something like that. And it lasted for an entire hour! I’m probably going to associate the term ‘carpetbagger’ with Crower’s man meat for the rest of my life now.”

Sophomore pharmacy major Yussef Wladdhi posited a source for the in-class stiffage.

"I bet it has something to do with Viagra," he asserted. "You know, before this class, someone told me Professor Crower was 'hard on' non-history majors, but I didn't take that literally."

Crower: stiffer than a log cabin; photo from an unidentified student's camera phone

Other students concurred that Crower’s sexual arousal made them disquieted and uneasy, and that its full impact may take weeks to assess.

“Let’s just say I’m never going to his office hours again,” huffed Sarah Lang, a history major specializing in the Atlantic slave trade. “I’m less grossed out by his woody than I am by his timing—we were talking about Klan lynching for Christ’s sake. That guy needs some serious, serious help; you'd think he was staring at a naked Anna Nicole Smith or something.”

Labels: erections, George Mason, history, Viagra

By Terrance Roxy, University of New Hampshire freshman

Roxy: Lost in a sea of crackers

(Durham, NH)—Man, I should have known something was up when they offered my black ass a full ride. I graduated high school with a 2.8 GPA, can’t play ball worth a damn, and couldn’t care less about extra curricular activities, unless you count panty-droppin.’ Now here I am, a month into my second semester, and the cold reality of this shit has finally sunk in: there ain’t no brothas up in New Hampshire.

And you know, my pops warned me about this. “Son,” he said, “I will always be proud of you, and support whatever decisions you make. But New Hampshire? Good luck finding an R&B station.” I guess that was his way of laying it out, and goddamn it, I should have taken his advice and gone to the community college.

See, I was born and raised in Hotlanta, so this place is like...well, like fuckin’ Mars. There’s only three clubs in town: two of them are bowling alleys with beer taps, and the other has mounted deer antlers, so let’s just say they ain’t my kind of places. Nobody stays up past 9 o’clock anyways, and the highlight of the day is Wheel of Fortune. You’d think Vanna was the Virgin Mary or something the way everybody crowds around the TV in my dorm lounge every night after supper. How old is that bitch? 49? 54? Too old to be wearing those sequins, I can tell you that. Anna Nicole Smith is about as old as I would go.

Excited to finally meet a brotha

And don’t get me wrong, the people here are really nice. But sometimes they’re…they’re too nice. I had some pharmacist talk to me about my asthma for twenty minutes last week when all I needed was a refill. After a while, I thought he was gonna invite me home to teach his kids to break-dance.

No wonder all these New Englanders are so liberal on Civil Rights—they ain’t go nobody to be civil with! Black folks wanna vote? Sure, none of ‘em live here! Gays want to marry? Why not, we’ve never met any! Keep abortion legal? Hell, nobody here ever gets their swerve on!

Maybe I just need some more time to adjust. This cold-ass weather is messing with my head. You know some dude asked me the other day if I wanted to play pond hockey? For. Real. Anyways, I’m gonna go watch the second season of In Living Color on DVD and try to unwind. Holla.

Labels: Anna Nicole smith, brothas, New Hampshire

(Ann Arbor, MI) University of Michigan sophomore Kevin Miller has been a "lifelong" admirer of late celebrity Anna Nicole Smith, and assembled an impressive collection of erotic photographs of the sex icon.

Miller's passion for using Anna Nicole images as inspiration for his masturbation sessions, though, may soon end.

"I just finished up spanking the plank to the 1993 Playboy issue with Anna Nicole," he told Codependent Collegian reporters. "Then I looked in the mirror, looked down at my hand, and I felt totally sick, like I was a necrophiliac or something."

Miller said that the event was "even more traumatic" after he walked out of the bathroom.

"My roommate totally knew what I had been doing in there, and it was like he read my mind," he said, looking down. "He said: 'You are one sick bastard, dude!' and you know what? He was right."

Miller's relationship with Anna Nicole Smith has taken a bizarre, disturbing path

Given the fact that Miller has invested "almost a thousand dollars" in his Anna Nicole collection, the biology major finds himself at a crossroads.

"Part of me wants to burn the whole fucking pile, purge my hard drive, and scrub myself in the shower for about an hour," he admitted. "But I've grown accustomed to her two-dimensional face and body, and I think a part of me died yesterday, too. When you spend so much time with a person, they become, like, a part of your very skin, and it's impossible to just tear your skin off, although I did give myself a bad chafing down there one crazy weekend with Anna Nicole."

Labels: Anna Nicole, Anna Nicole smith, necrophilia

by Steve Snelling, State University of New York Sophomore

Snelling: Ready to hit the books, a month too late

(Syracuse, NY)—Professor McKellor, I know your office hours ended like, 47 minutes ago, and you’ve never met me before, but my name is Steve and I’m in your 9 a.m. advanced communications class and I have a totally reasonable explanation for why I’ve missed the first three weeks of your course.

My grandfather lives in Maine and has been really, really sick with this rare type of butt cancer. So sick, in fact, that I had to stay with him, alone, in his one-room log cabin after Christmas and care for him since the rest of my family is a bunch of jackholes. He’s dirt poor so I had to rake leaves and stuff to buy extra blankets and ice fish for lobster just to survive. There was no telephone or internet or anything which is why I don’t have your syllabus and I couldn’t get in touch with you until now.

Gramps had the butt cancer bad. Real bad.

I know you’ll probably say that I should simply withdrawal and all that — I’ve missed too much, I’m way behind in the reading, etc. But let me level with you: I have a 1.2 GPA. That should tell you how serious I am about finishing this course, because if I don’t pull my grades up this term, the university is gonna send me packing for a community college back in East Rushford and I am clearly not remedial material, plus there's this girl I really need to avoid back there, trying to serve me with papers for this bullshit paternity lawsuit. You feel me?

I should probably also mention that I've got what you call one of your learning disorder deals. I’m not sure if those people in Student Services notified you, but I need extra testing time, extended deadlines, and tapes of all your lectures. In high school it was a huge struggle for my Civil Rights and stuff, so I hope you won’t be discriminatory and give me a C just because I have special needs and a unique learning style.

Thanks for talking this through with me, Professor McKellor. If you could just get together all the handouts and notes I’ve missed, that would be great. I should be back on track by midterms, so until then, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. I know I’m going to learn a lot from you this semester.

Labels: butt cancer, slackers, student excuses, SUNY

Pilgrim’s Progress: From addict, to writer, to professor

(Washington, D.C.)—Billy Pilgrim, the hard-nosed “rogue” reporter who has remained one of America’s most doggedly committed journalists despite controversy and addiction, has just announced that he will venture into academe by teaching an online course for the University of Phoenix during their upcoming summer session.

The course, COM 473: Pornography, the Internet, and You , is the first of its kind at an accredited four-year university, and Pilgrim seems more than eager to impart his vast knowledge to a younger generation of scholars and social critics.

“This is a remarkable opportunity, and I am indebted to the University of Phoenix for their sincere interest in my instructional abilities,” Pilgrim intoned earlier this morning to a small, makeshift audience on the steps of the Smithsonian’s Museum of Natural History. “I hope, in some small way, that this summer course will enlighten and deepen our national discourse on pornography. Plus, I get share some of my PowerPoints on bondage, so that’s pretty cool.”

University of Phoenix: Granting meaningless degrees since 1976

Phoenix spokesperson Theresa Grimes echoed Pilgrim’s enthusiasm about this cutting edge approach to the study of communications.

“Billy’s a genius, there’s no doubt about that, and he knows enough about porn to fill the ancient library at Alexandria,” Grimes noted while sipping a latte. “That, and like, he was the only applicant we interviewed who was willing to take the job for a $1200 honorarium. For someone in recovery, he’s certainly still obsessed with sexual gratification.”

Labels: Billy Pilgrim, Internet porn, University of Phoenix

(Austin, TX) University of Texas sophomore Gavin Presley, speaking with Codependent Collegian reporters, described the horror of discovering an excessive amount of ear wax that prevented him from attending Friday's Microeconomics lecture.

"Everything was fine when I woke up. Then I jumped out of the shower, and I was like totally deaf," he said, tugging at his left earlobe. "When I stuck a Q-Tip in there, I couldn't believe all the crud that came out."

After spending nearly ten minutes poking and flushing out his ears, Presley came to a decision.

"There was just no way I was going to be able to give the professor my undivided attention, what with some of that gunk still in my ear canal," he said, shaking his head. "The best thing I could do was to stay in my dorm. Plus - if I was digging in my ear during lecture, I'm sure I would have been a distraction to the other students, so this was really more about a selfless act on my part."

Sample of the sticky discharge Presley removed from his ear, keeping him yet again from class

The semester to date has proven to be a difficult one for Presley, as other hygiene-relaed issues have interfered with his attendance at the 8:00 am class.

"Two weeks ago I had this, like, explosion of hangnails that sidelined me, and I spent about two hours getting them under control," he recalled. "Then last week I noticed these freaky-looking nose hairs sticking down, making me look like I was starting a Fu Manchu. I swear, it's like my body is deliberately trying to cause me to flunk this class."

Labels: ear wax, Microeconomics, University of Texas

Guest editorial by Josh Reinhardt, Class of 2008

Lyndsey, we've been going out for two months now, and I think it's time we take our relationship to the next level. I propose we stop using condoms, and experience our love au natural.

What it really comes down to is trust, you know? I'm like 99 percent sure I'm STD-free, but if you can't trust me, this relationship will never grow.

And - truth be told - we are like the only people on the planet using these gross things. Wouldn't it be great to let our love melt together, instead of keeping our happy-juices separated by a latex barrier?

If you really loved me, you'd stop insisting on this, because it's getting in the way of something truly beautiful. And with the money we'd save, we could invest in a nice digital camera, so we could capture our bumping and grinding for posterity.

There's nothing I'd like better than to wake in the morning, with the sun coming in the window and shining on your naked back, zooming in for a closeup of your breasts. And I'd be really careful not to leave the disc laying around, where one of my idiot fraternity brothers might get it and upload it on YouTube or something.

So, how about it? Let's make a bold statement tonight about our love, and toss the rest of this Trojan 12-pack on the fire. Our future is hanging in the balance.

Labels: condoms, Relationships, STDs

Left: The little stapler that could

(Austin, TX) Philosophy professor Lars Hendrikkson came into possession of a curious red stapler two years ago, gathering dust in a corner of his 10'x 12' office.

"Whoever had this space before me left it here," he told Codependent Collegian reporters. "I'm guessing that person didn't realize the miracle-in-the-making that was occurring with this particular stapler."

The "miracle" that Hendrikkson described is the fact that he has never put staples in the device, despite its regular use in his work.

"And I do a fair bit of stapling: exams, papers, proposals," he said. "I'm not exactly as busy as, say, an office worker with it, but I should have had to resupply it some time, right? I mean, the thing only holds one row of staples. Of course, since I've never had to actually open it, who knows what's really inside it. Tell you the truth - this stapler kind of scares me."

Left: Lucky prof may never have to requisition staples again

Hendrikkson said that there are "historical and religious" parallels to his discovery, noting a number of Biblical similarities to his own finding.

"The obvious comparison is to the whole loaves and fishes deal that Christ had," he said, holding up the stapler in the flickering fluorescent lights of his office. "But I'm not sure if I want to make that leap of faith yet. Plus, I might get stuck with a line of like 5,000 people wanting their papers stapled. Don't know if I can handle that kind of commitment, you know?"

Labels: staplers, University of Texas