Monday, February 28, 2011

Why I Missed School Today

Imagination Station:

Now, I figured I’d just tell the truth given that I’m like good ol’ honest Franklin Pierce—I cannot tell a lie. And I also wanted to avoid vague generalizations involving past reasons I’ve been absent, such as:

“I had too much awesome in my bowl of Lucky Charms that I had this morning, and it gave me a tummy ache.”

“I actually got the sniffles from being too awesome. Don’t worry. It’s not contagious.”

“I got attacked by a squirrel.”

So, here is the real reason I was absent:

It all started with the munchies.

So, I wake up, alarm blaring, and I open my iTunes library to listen to some tunes. There I am, jammin’ out, breakin’ out the old school moves, shakin’ what my momma gave me, and then I think to myself “OMG, I should make some eggs for breakfast.”

I walk out of my room and over to the kitchen. I open up the stainless steel fridge, and what do I find? No eggs. So, I’m sittin’ there like “WTF? How am I supposed to make eggs without eggs?”

I’ve been on an all natural kick lately, so I grab my coat and decide to go find some wild chickens that lay wild eggs. Simple enough, I mean Bear Grills and Les Stroud make it look easy.

Well guess what folks, that shit is hard.

So, I grab my coat and start walking.

There I am walking down the sidewalk next to the street and I pass by Whole Foods and that’s when it hits me—you are never gonna find wild eggs around here Julia, duh. So, I decide to go into the woods.

Now, it just gets weird up in those woods.

I’m forging and bein’ all survivor and shit and out of nowhere this homicidal unicorn pops out of these rainbow colored bushes.

“Move out of my way,” the unicorn says. It didn’t even say please. Unicorns are pricks.

So, I sit there, snap my fingers, and throw an “Oh no you didn’t” back in this rude ass unicorn’s face. And I’m about cut a bitch at this point because I want some eggs. I’m cravin’ those all eight essential amino acids packed in one little round oval of awesomeness.

Now, I’m about to whip out my pocketknife and show this unicorn who’s boss, when a giant dragon lands right behind me and is all like “Unicorn, you me, let’s dance.”

I get out of the way because I don’t need to get into magical dragon-unicorn drama/gang warfare. So, I walk away from them and continue looking for my eggs. I never found them. It was sad. I had to eat pancakes.

Oh, and in that same day, I wrestled a bear, reeled in an angler fish, and I also pwned a seven year old at hop-scotch—yeah, suck it little Suzie. Bitch thinks she can start somethin’ and not finish it. I showed her.

And my dog ate my homework.

So you see, that’s why I couldn’t turn in that sonnet I was supposed to write…

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Scientists conclude 'yellow snow is not pee'

Imagination Station:

SIBERIA—“Yellow snow is not pee,” Dr. Walter T. Furtler said in a press conference on Feb. 27.

The bombshell was dropped after twenty years of research on the correlation between yellow snow and pee by the Yellow Snow Institute.

“My mommy always told me not to eat yellow snow,” Timmy Fox, an eight year old Siberian boy said. “But now I can eat it? I’m so confused.”

This should now read "Do eat yellow snow!  It's probably
just lemonade!!!!! YAY!!!"
Furtler, as well as other leading scientists contend that the majority of yellow snow is not pee.

“We found in much of our research that only about .01 percent of yellow snow contained urine,” Furtler said. “I understand why this could come as a shock to many people. We’ve all been taught, myself included, not to eat yellow snow, but you can eat it. We are breaking social norms.”

Yellow snow eating has been deemed safe by the US Surgeon General Dick Ingel given the recent scientific research results.

“Yellow snow is safe to eat,” Ingel said. “Most likely the yellow snow is yellow because somebody put food coloring on it or spilled lemonade.”

Food coloring caused 30 percent of the yellow snow, while spilled lemonade attributed to 85 percent of the yellow snow, according to Furtler.

“Lemonade is a popular winter drink,” Furtler said. “One minute you’re walking along, enjoying a tart drink, the next minute your face is on the ground and your lemonade has created yellow snow. It’s the miracle of science.”

Shaved ice vendors across the country are rejoicing about 'the miracle of science.'

“Do you realize how easy that makes my job now?” Laz Yass said. “All I have to do now is go outside and scoop out yellow snow and I can sell that stuff. Who doesn’t want yellow snow now? I’m not disputing that science.”

Furtler doesn’t expect his findings disputed by the professional community either.

“It makes sense,” Furtler said. “Honestly, what’s the likelihood that yellow snow is actually peed on snow… slim to none. A lemonade spillage is far more likely. So, go forth and eat yellow snow.”

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Adobe InDesign

Happy InDesign- "Air freshner that
sparys?  Oh my God, this the happiest
day of my life."

Warning, there is foul mouth language.

Adobe InDesign. Sometimes in the newspaper room, we have problems with technology. Sometimes InDesign is all like “Hellz yeah, let’s get this layout done, ‘cause imma boss.” Then, other times it’s all like “What the hell? I’m not a design software program that’s supposed to aid you in creating a layout. Who exactly do you think I am? Adobe InDesign? Psssh. Fuck that shit.”

Adobe InDesign is like a PMSing housewife, and she’s baking a pie.

Adobe InDesign has a husband (probably the equally moody Adobe Photoshop), and she’s making the pie for him, because he had a hard day at work not opening picture files or sharpening too much and pixelating the image. Tough stuff.

InDesign lovingly prepares an apple pie for Photoshop. She went to the orchard to pick fresh apples and she turned the butter herself after milking the cows in the backyard. She hummed Limp Bizkit’s “Break Stuff” as she kneaded and caressed the dough that she prepared by hand. No canned or boxed stuff here. All natural. She cut and washed the apples. She used a protractor to help her create a perfect criss-cross pattern at the top of the pie.

She sets the timer and places the pie in the oven, after pre-heating the oven of course, because she’s a good housewife. The timer buzzes and she opens the oven, flooding the air with the smell of homemade apple pie. She sniffs it and sighs.

“Oh, how lovely it looks,” she says to herself, flashing a smile as she slips cute, pastel oven mitts on her delicate hands.

She pulls out the pie and lets it rest on the counter. Right then, Photoshop comes home.

“I’m home,” Photoshop calls, plastering a wide grin on his face.

“Oh honey,” she runs to him and they embrace.

Cute right?

She tells him that she’s baked some pie for him, and he thanks her with a peck on the cheek. They go over to the dinning room. She retrieves a slice of pie for him and pours a glass of milk for him.

“Got to keep my hunky husband’s bones nice and strong,” she smiles.

He takes a bite of the pie, letting out a satisfied “yum.”

“Honey, this is delicious,” he continues eating.

“Thank you dear, I worked all day on it,” she continues smiling.


“But?” she now frowns.

“The pie is great, but I was more in the mood for blueberry pie.”

Awkward silence. Then, InDesign rips off her apron and throws it at Photoshop.

“What the fuck do you mean but? ‘I was in the mood for blueberry pie.’ Well, I’m in the mood for breaking your fucking face tonight. Huh? How do you like them apples, or should I say mother fucking blueberries you son of a bitch.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, that’s right you little punk ass. Be sorry. You know what?”


She slaps him.

“That’s what. Bitch. Oh, whatcha gonna do now? Huh? Huh? I want a divorce. I never liked you anyway. How can I live with some douche bag who wants fucking blueberries or some motherfucking awesomely epic apple fucking pie? Bitch. And your mother’s fat.”


She storms out of the house screaming expletives at the top of her lungs. She reaches the curb, where a little boy stopped on his bike.
Angry InDesign- "Eat this Bitch."

“You said a bad word,” he says. And this kid is like five by the way.

She doesn’t say anything. She beats the crap out of him; the cops come; she gets arrested; there’s a trial; she’s convicted of assault; she goes to prison.

She’s the prison’s lunch lady now. She made blueberry pie for the inmates. One of them wished for apple instead. She grabbed a filed down spatula and shanked that inmate… in the eye.

That’s InDesign.


Friday, February 25, 2011

Best Rap Eva

Imagination Station:
Be jealous yo






For real


I’m makin’ millions for real

And all the peeps in the hood

They know it’s all good

‘Cause I gots grillz in my teeth and in my yard

And then I’m gonna be grillin’ them hot dogs

And eatin’ them

‘Cause that’s what a gangsta does

This a real rap






*awkward crotch grap*

For real


*pullin’ up my pants*

When I’m up in the club

You know I be dancin’ wit some hoes for sure

‘Cause you know how it is when it is where it is

Yeah diggy dawg

Woof Woof

My bite is as bad as my bark byotches






For real

*reversin’ my baseball cap*


For shizzle my nizzle up in the hizzle dizzle

Before I bust a cap up in here

For rizzle drizzle fizzle

I’m so gansta and wit it

All you other homies ain’t

Why? ‘Cause I said so

Whatcha gonna do about it?




*slow-mo shot of me nodding to the beat*



For real


You know what it is how it is when it is where it is at

It’s at yo momma’s house

Oh, burn home skillet







For real word

Peace out homies, peeps, and my diggy dawgs

Word out

And holla at yo momma for me


Thursday, February 24, 2011

Poem Analysis

Imagination Station:

Unicorns by Julia Nagy

There is a flower in the meadow,
A single lone flower.

Here is an analysis of the above poem:

It is evident in this poem that the author in this poem is making a commentary on the disillusionment of our egotistical society, lamenting on how alone and cut off he fells from a society that thinks its got swag. The author, clearly, is the flower in the meadow. He is a single lone flower, clearly indicating that he is a single lone person who feels lonely and has nobody to call his own. The flower stands out among the small blades of grass billowing in the breeze, just as the author feels he stands out among all the ubiquitous members of society.

The scene portrayed by the author seems to be that of a happy one—a flower prancing in a meadow among nature in its most pure and untarishedable form. This happy tone is juxtaposed with the heavy and gloomy view on the societal habits of a megalomaniac society only concerned with themselves and not the well being of others such as the author who clearly is lonely, due to the diction in the poem.

The syntax of the poem also contributes to the thematic theme of this poem. The first sentence, in which the flower is in the meadow, is longer than the second sentence. This longer sentence portrays a need to belong in a society driven by financial constraints and overly partisinized public discourse, whereas the second sentence is short and blunt, expressing the understanding of loneliness and the rejection the author experienced.

I also think the poem is commenting on the state of healthcare in the nation.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Sterling Rambo Catches Bieber Fever

Imagination Station:  Written with the help of my perverted soulmate.

OMG! It’s JUSTIN BIEBER! THE BIEBS! OMFG! I’m so excited. It’s like he’s reaching out and touching me. It’s like I can touch that fluffy, sexy, feathered manly man hair of young manliness. AHHHHHHH! He’s so cute. He’s so fluffy, I’m gonna die! I’m a man and I have a bromance for Justin Bieber.

The name’s Sterling Rambo and I’m a manly man who loves Justin Bieber to epic manly proportions. Oh, those eyes. Those moves. That voice. He moves my man soul deep down in my man loins.

I just saw the epic manly experience know as Justin Bieber: Never Say Never Concert 3D. And I reached out to touch him with my manly man hands and he reached out to me with his manly man hands. We shared a moment. It was beautiful. And manly.

I love his love of the manly color purple. It brings out the brown man-ness of his hair and contrasts so good with his porcelain manly skin that looks like a man porcelain doll.

And Justin Bieber loves balls too. He plays various man sports, just like me. We, two men, could go and play with basketballs or soccer balls or ping pong balls or golf balls. Balls in all shapes and sizes.

So, back off tween bitches. He’s mine.

And I’m not letting him go. I’m like baby baby baby OHHHHH!

And he’s a great dancer like moi. Many a woman has been wooed by my horizontal mambo dance moves. I’ve got manly abs of plexi-glass. Abs of concrete. Abs (and buns as well) of steel.

We could have the most beautiful bromance. Lift weights together, go to the gym, watch football, pick up chicks, chop wood like manly man lumberjacks that wear an oh so stylish form of plaid, paint our nails, etc. You know, various man stuff.

So give me a call Justin Bieber.  This could be the start of a beautiful manly bromance.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Sterling Rambo's View on Feminism

I'm a man.  The manliest man you ever did see.  And here's how I feel about feminism:

I love feminists.  Especially when they make me a sandwich.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

How to Woo Your Woman on a First Date

Imagination Station:
If you are unfamiliar with Sterling Rambo, first read "Chewed to Bits by Giant Turtles."

Sterling Rambo again, here to give you a tip or two about the ladies, ‘cause I’m a hit with them, ‘cause I’m a man. I’m a master at dating, wooing, and all other sorts of arts and crafts, ‘cause a manly man knows he needs to be a jack of all trades, even if his name isn’t Jack, which mine isn’t. Mine’s Sterling. Anyway, enough about me (even though we all know the ladies can’t get enough), here’s your how to as to how to woo your woman on a first date:

1) Set up a reservation at a fancy restaurant, ‘cause you’re a classy manly man.

2) Go to the grocery store and buy her some flowers. Some red roses.  The cheapest ones you can find.

3) Pick her up from her house. Compliment her, like “Oh my, you have a nice face” or “Wow, great rack.” Chicks dig compliments.

4) Take her to dinner. Suggest she eats a salad with avocado. Why? Well, you don’t want your woman to get fat, hence the salad. And avocado? That’s an aphrodisiac. That’s gonna come in handy later. WINK WINK.

5) When the bill comes, suggest she pays.

6) Drive back to your place and invite her up for “a cup of coffee.”

7) Once inside your place, light some candles.

8) Offer to take her coat off for her.

9) Excuse yourself and go to your closet. Get that pink Speedo and wear it… just that. The pinkness of the pink shows you aren’t afraid to be sensitive. The Speedo part of the Speedo reveals your man abs and that bushel of manly chest hair growing off your man pectorals.  How can she resist your honey bunches of oates and tiny oat clusters now?

10) Go back into the living room where you left your woman. With one arm, flex your bicep. With the other, play this:

11) Subtle, no?

12) Sit next to your woman on the couch. Invite her to get it on with you.

13) Congrats on your first date success, you delicious manly honey bunches of oates with oat clusters.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Mistaken Identity

Imagination Station:

“Oh my God, Professor Tia Meloni? Oh thank goodness I found you,” a nerdy boy asks me, patting his gel clogged black hair. “I’ve been looking everywhere, from the dorms to the laboratory. Goodness gracious, I was panicked cubed.”

“Cubed?” I respond. I ain’t Professor Tia Meloni. I’m Sandy Delmont and I’m not a professor or a college grad or college student or high school grad.

“Ha ha ha ha,” nerd boy snorts, pushing up his think black framed glasses with his index finger. “You’re a real riot Professor Meloni. It means to the third power, but you already knew that.”

“But I’m not Pro…”

“Now Professor, we have absolutely no time to dilly dally whatsoever.”

“But I’m not who you think I am.”

“Look, obviously you are middle aged, possibly having some form of a mid-life crisis, but we have no time for such silly things,” nerd boy pushes me down the hall, towards a set of large oak wood doors.

I’m not middle aged. I’m 25. Bastard.

“What do I teach?”

“You teach a pathology class silly. Aren’t you just a little Miss Giggles?”

“Call me Miss Giggles again, and I’ll give you a wedgie and stuff you in a locker. What, pathology? What’s that?”

“The study and diagnosis of disease.”

“Thanks, Webster.”

“Ah ha ha ha. Like the dictionary man. Real clever. You throw me into a fit of chuckles,” he opens the door, still laughing and snorting. What a nerd.

As I look into the classroom, I discover it is a lecture hall… a real big lecture hall. Like epically huge. And filled with male and female clones of nerd boy.

McFudgenuggets. This is going to be bad.

“Good morning Professor Meloni,” all the nerds chant in unison.

Diseases. Think disease. And coughing and sneezing and itchyness and medicine. How bad could this be?

“Professor, do you mind if we open with the question and answer portion of the lecture today? I read the textbook last night and I just have so many questions to pose,” a nerd girl begs.

“Ok,” I try on a scholar type voice. Think smart old person. Big words Sandy, big words. More than two syllables. You got this.

“Can you tell me a bit more about Mucopolysaccharidosis type II?”

“Ummm… can you tell me the more common name of that disease?”

“Hunter’s syndrome.”

“Well, that one’s obviously obvious.”

“How so?”

“Well, there was this hunter who had a syndrome.”

“Well, isn’t it an inherited disorder in which an enzyme, iduronate-2-sulfatase (I2S), is deficient? I2S is involved in the breakdown of complex carbohydrates called mucopolysaccharides. Without enough I2S, partially broken-down mucopolysaccharides accumulate in the organs and tissues of the body and become toxic.”

“…yes. Next question?”

“Oh oh, pick me, pick me, pick me,” the nerd boy from the hallway urgently flails his hand around.

“Yeah, you.”

“What’s the cause of Takayasu arteritis?”


“Well, I’m sure there are some theories out there. What would you say is one of the more plausible theories?

“Well, the answer is in the words. A guy named Yasu had some bad take out and then he looked at some art and this all lead to pain in his itis.”

“What’s an itis?”

“It’s a small bone in the um… it’s in the nose. It’s a small bone in the nose.”

“But isn’t the nose made out of cartilage?”

“Cartilage, bone, same dif. Tomato, Tomahto.”

“But they aren’t the same.”

“Oh, would you look at the time. Class is over.”

“A five minute class?”

“Well, nerdette over here read the textbook. Do the same. Class dismissed.”

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Recent study shows kids like snow days

Imagination Station:

MOUNT HUKALAKAKA, HAWAII- Mary Sue Shnow watches the Channel Seven news intently, her hazel eyes open as wide as they possibly can. She doesn’t blink. She’s afraid she’ll miss her school district’s name on the list of school closings.

“Well, what if I do blink and I miss the name and I go to school, when there is no school,” Shnow said. “Could you imagine how horrible that would be? To be outside of a school closed. To be alone and cold and scared and…”

Shnow pauses, then bursts into tears. Her eyeliner smudges as a river of tears flows down her cheeks. Then her district’s name is called. No school for Shnow. And she lets out a guttural scream like a Justin Bieber fan-girl.

Shnow is not the only one who enjoys snow days. According to a recent study done by the Institute of Snow, 999 in 1000 students actually enjoy snow days. The results have baffled scientists across the globe.

“I just can’t believe students actually enjoy days off from school,” Dr. Ronald Haz Noclue, the director of the Institute of Ice, said. “These results must be replicated as soon as possible. A result as shocking as this is not only groundbreaking, but controversial. I imagine many will say these findings are false.”

Dr. Noshit Sherlock, a fellow scientist, disagrees.

“Of course kids like days off from school,” Sherlock said. “I mean, look at the state of the education in the schools. Poor at best. I think this study shows how lacking we are in terms of the education of the posterity.”

But Haz Noclue thinks Sherlock has no clue.

“Sherlock is trying to raise a hullabaloo about what is most likely an inaccurate study,” Haz Noclue said. “He’s a dirty rotten liar, and I stick my well distinguished and educated tongue out at him.”

On snow days, kids enjoy eating snow, which also happens
to be a good source of essential vitamins and minerals and
Omega-3 Fatty Acids.  It also happens to be delicious...
except for yellow snow.  Avoid that stuff. 

Superintendents across the country have also weighed in, including Steve Shmuck, the superintendent of Shnow’s district.

“I know these kids, and this study is completely false,” Shmuck said. “These kids love to learn. In fact, when we close the schools, we’re worried of having a riot on our hands. Kids are unhappy when they can’t receive their education.”

Shnow disagrees.

“Snow days rock my rainbow colored socks off,” Shnow said. “If I had it my way, school wouldn’t just be out for summer. It’d be out forever.”