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12 The Pioneer Log January 27, 2012Backdoor
TOAST OF THE WEEK: You Caught My Eye
Wanna mack on somebody in a public forum?Email a “You Caught My Eye” to [email protected]
You: Rhyme-spittin’ BAMFMe: Got a new kind of tongue twister to show you
All farticles written in the Backdoor are jokes. Funny jokes. Don’t take them seriously becau se they don’t take you seriously. Seriously. Oh, wanna do a comic or shower us with compliments? Contact Erin Ruprecht or Marcia Belsky.
ANONYMOUS FRIEND
CRUSHES
THIS WEEK’S COMIC: Doghouse Diaries
COMIC COURTESY OF DOGHOUSEDIARIES.COM
ATTENTION ARTEESTSWhile putting webcomics
in the newspaper is
great and all, we wantstudent-created stuffs!
Don’t be shy, little
ones. Send us your
scribblin’s, doodles,
sketches and all other
kinds of funniez. As
long as it appears
to be made with the
admirable intention
of making us giggle,
chances are we’ll print
it! Give a holler to
mbelsky@ or ruprecht@
and we’ll talk.
“Oh, Lewis & Clark...is that a community college?”
You: My Gym Class Hero
Me: Dodging your balls
6 REASONS TO BE GLAD THE HOLIDAYS ARE OVERBefore the holidays, during nals hell,all we dreamt of was an escape. A longvacation full of laziness and fun. A wholemonth of sleeping in and irresponsibility. A whole month of drinking withoutfeeling guilty. A whole month of unbridledinternet use and Netix consumption. Yet,as vacation time wears on and joyful family reunions begin to wear your patience thin,one begins to realize that, perhaps, it’s agood thing the holidays only happen oncea year. e holidays allow us to appreciatethings about school that, perhaps before thebreak, we took for granted.So, here is a friendly reminder of some of the reasons I, for one, am glad the holidaysare over.
1. e Internet’s WAY more entertaining as a procrastination tool After watching all the TV shows you fellbehind on during the semester, the appealof the Internet seems to dwindle whenit is no longer a means of distractionfrom responsibility. Funny how picturesof animal species befriending each otherbecomes less interesting when it’s the only thing on the agenda.
2. No more riding in the backseat with
Mom and DadIt doesn’t matter how old you are, when youare riding in the backseat of your parentscar you are automatically emotionally transformed back into the preteen bratty you of yesteryear. Only now, you’re accutely aware of how terrible your parents are atdriving. If you ever had the silly inclinationto feel cool, a good three hour roadtrip withMa and Pa will quickly put you in yourplace.
5.No more porcelain cheek rubbing Don’t get me wrong, we all love Grandma(well, I don’t because mine’s racist asshit). Sometimes they’re cute, but oneof the worst parts of the holidays is theconstant sloppy porcelain-cheekrubbing-baby-powder-lled kisses bestowed uponus by our eldest kinfolk. Maybe it’s notGreat Aunt Fritzy’s fault that she smellslike diapers, but that doesn’t make herincontinence any more pleasing. Call me anageist, sure, but I hate forced bonding withold people where one has to accept criticism with a smile, and the holidays are full of it. Every once in a while an elderly citizenis amazingly awesome and tells hilariousstories or generally entertains the crowdby their inability to give a fuck anymoreabout social niceties or tact. However, forthe most part, hangin’ with geezers mostly involves stilted small talk or the frustratingtask of explaining how to do somethingon the computer. I mean, c’mon, not evenold people like old people. It’s a self-hatingculture.
3. No more constant reminders of how stupid you were as a child.Every time I see my older cousin Andy, heasks me if I still like the Spice Girls. Every.Single. Time. We’re at a stage in our lives where we are constantly trying to improve,to grow, to expand as people. Yet, to yourextended family, none of this matters. ey don’t care about the books you’ve read oryour new interest in pottery. at’s not theyou they’re comfortable with. at you isa stranger. Instead, they care about the youthat begged for an N’SYNC album and
gurine in third grade and then screechedfor three minutes upon receiving them.ank God YouTube wasn’t a thing back then.
4. Your friends don’t annoy you as muchas your siblings do (yet).e bad thing about being raised withsiblings? ey know exactly how to work you up into an embarrassing tempertantrum. When you’re at school, you missthem. But after a few days you quickly remember how frustrating it is to live withsomeone who knows every embarrassingthing you’ve ever done. Turns out someonerepeating everything you say just to get arise out of you is still incredibly eective.
6. Liberal utopia: restored. As mockable as the liberal utopia of LCis, the holiday season can really make youappreciate rationality. As much as I may complain that the LC community tendsto function within a bubble, it’s a hellof a lot better than being provoked by conservative family members who want topatronize the education you’re receiving. Ican only listen to my Uncle Bill lecture forfor so long on my “silly women’s politics”(as demonstrated by my failure in askingpermission to enter the ‘man cave’) beforeI feel like I’m going to snap. Nothing says‘Happy Holidays’ like a debate over Obamabeing racist. It’s good to be back.
You: A goblin-kingMe: I’ll be your orlax
You: Football playing fan of Richard Nixon.Me: Willing to open my Watergate.
You: Freshman senator.Me: Looking to be your Monica Lewinsky.
Oh, tiny liberal arts college, you curse us with theillusion of proximity, for the distance we suffer eachday is crippling. If there ever existed a strongholdof truly platonic affection, the fleeting admiration
we feel in passing certain unknown peers would beit. How small our college is! But, alas! How far fromever knowing these fair creatures we really are! Be ittheir laughter, their gait, their musical predilections,or even their cool hat, these people rekindle in us achildlike faith in the human race. If only you couldhave but one socially lubricated interaction! How
dynamic your friendship would be...but it will neverhappen. They probably suck, anyway. In a figurativetribute to the phenomenon of sour grapes, we raisea full bottle of wine to our lips, and drink and cry the
evening away like the romantic sad sacks we are.
You: Broody McBroodersonMe: Can’t help but think you’recute when you’re miserable
You: Drama queen... Not in the negativesense, but like a woman in the eaterDepartment who exudes royalty.Me: Your Fool You: Brawny Math Whiz
Me: Calculating the probability of you asking me out
You: Shy gamelan noviceMe: Wishing I could hear your song
You: Grad studentsMe: Why are you inour computer lab?!
