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Tufts University’s Only Intentionally Funny Magazine,
Nov. 2013
Vol. XXV, No. 1
T S u p r h at ’s Jus t e me C o ur ic e A n ton t Sc a li a! i n
The Daddy Issue
Est. 1987
Tufts Dads Retreat to the Loj
(No girls allowed!)
The Tufts Freethought Society is hosting a “retreat for Tufts dads” this coming weekend at the Tufts Loj in North Woodstock N.H.! All fathers of current Tufts students and alumni are encouraged to attend.
“I’ve been to the retreat every year since my wittle girls became my wittle Jumbos!” Nigel Wrathsmeil, father of fourth year twins, Nicky and Dora Wrathsmeil, says. “It’s great to blow off some steam with the other dads each year in the Loj’s rustic quarters. I get so tired of staying in fussy B&Bs with the Mrs.” Weekend activities include water skiing, campfire never-have-I-ever stories, facials, and a legendary “Daddy Dodgeball” tournament. All participating dads should bring hiking boots, bug spray and other assorted ointments, a masculine flannel, and protein-rich snacks. Bedding, meals, and Tufts paraphernalia will be provided at the Loj. Total cost of the weekend getaway is $50, transportation included. Please contact the retreat planners at dadsarefun@googlegroups.com for more information and to purchase tickets.
Photo by Michael B. James
What’s in this Issue? We’ve pretty much redesigned everything
News
3 Midwestern Tween Falls for Friend’s Dad Connor Des Rochers Teenage Girl Discovers Corpse. Self Alie Glaser COULD A GOLDFISH HELP YOU LIVE 4 “I’m Gay,” Announces Science Ben Meyerson Could Cat Ears Be the Next Big Thing? Ben Meyerson FOREVER?????
Features
5 Student Profile: Jill! Egg Whitez Midwestern Family Loves Dewick Connor Des Rochers 6 Advice for Freshmen Laura Rathsmill 7 Social Media LIES Megan Zupon 8 Interview with Tinky Winky Will Owen My Daddy’s Hobby Ryan Hastings-Echo 9 Winter Winners Zamboni Staff 10 Book Reviews Vicky Rathsmill Song: “My Daddy” Laura Rathsmill
P. 34
Opinion
11 Sugar Daddy Knows Best Will Owen Why I Decided to Do The Pregnancy, Too Rachel Rapaport 12 Point/Counterpoint: Nipple Hair Laura Rathsmill, Ryan Hastings-Echo
Romance
13 How To Tell If Your Spouse is Cheating Egg Whitez Innovative Sex Toys Ryan Hastings-Echo 14 “Dear Zamboni...” Laura Rathsmill, Will Owen 15 Missed Connections Graham Starr, Will Owen 16 The Poetry Reach-Around Will Owen, Graham Starr, Laura Rathsmill
Alistair Cromwell: from toll booth worker to respected mathematician. An inspirational story about this hard-working father of six. p. 27
Art Front and Back Covers: Graham Starr Art Direction: Graham Starr Front Inside-Cover Advertisement: Will Owen, Graham Starr Back Inside-Cover Coupons: Graham Starr, Will Owen Layout Layout and New Magazine Design by: Zamboni Editors and Nina “Ghengis Khan” Bernstein Vol. XXV, No. 1 - The Daddy Issue
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A Word
from the
Editors
Dear Tufts Dads, Friends of Tufts Dads, and Dads of Friends of Tufts Dads, Nov. 2013
Vol. XXV, No. 1
Editors-in-Chief Will “Papa Q. Bear” Owen Laura “The Reverend” Rathsmill Managing Editor Graham “Left to Buy Cigarettes” Starr Editors-at-Large Connor “Paternity Test” Des Rochers Emily “Kevin Federline” Barns Staff Megan “Woody Allen” Zupon Ryan “Vasectomy” Hastings-Echo Rachel “Old Man River” Rapaport Vicky “Daddy Likes Leather” Rathsmill Nina “Genghis Khan” Bernstein Ben “Framer of the Constitution” Pall Alie “Sean ‘Puff Daddy’ Combs” Glaser Ben “Court-Mandated Visits“ Meyerson Greg “Phallocracy” Witz Emily “Pope“ Garber Editors Emeritus Brett Weiner Stephanie Vallejo Francis Dahl Michael Yarsky Devin Toohey Michael Schecht Matthew Luz Luke Burns Ryan Oliveira Matt Mcgowan Andrew “Why’d You Have to Turn Out The Pussy Son? I Wanted a Football Star, Not a Theater Geek. If Only Your Older Brother Hadn’t Died at Childbirth, Maybe This Family Would’ve Had a Success. You’re No Son of Mine” Reisman
This issue is for you. Fatherhood is a demanding and under-appreciated lifestyle choice. Just when you thought you completed your Oedipal drama and could finally relax and enjoy the three beautiful children you conceived with your mother, you realize that your son, at the age of six, is already plotting your murder. Kids today! Luckily, the daddies out there don’t have to wait until Father’s Day for a little recognition. We at The Zamboni are paying tribute to all the hard work you gentlemen do. As Sylvia Plath once wrote in her poem, “Daddy”: “You do not do, you do not do / Any more, black shoe.” On behalf of the Zamboni and Ms. Plath, we would like to say, long live the patriarchy! After years of looking like a creepy coupon book (which of course was always part of the fun!), we’ve revamped our look with a few nips and tucks. Call us vain, but we really just want to look pretty for all you dads! After all, everything we’ve ever done was to get your attention, to get your approval…it’s not too late to tell us you care, daddy… In 16 pages our lovely staff have explored a plethora of different types of daddies--hot daddies, leather daddies, sugar daddies, happy daddies, sad daddies, poet daddies... They have also tackled difficult-but-important topics like Couvade syndrome, feminine nipple hair, and excessive hash-tagging. Some of them have even poured their hearts out in poetry. And it’s all for you. May we call you Daddy?
Join the Zamboni! Wednesdays @ 10 pm Campus Center Room 218 Or email us at TuftsZamboni@gmail.com Submissions welcome! Twitter: @TuftsZamboni
Disclaimer and Editorial Policy: The Zamboni is a student-run humor and satire publication of Tufts University. In no way do the views expressed herein necessarily reflect those of Tufts University, or even the editors. So, don't go e-mailing the people listed in the staff box, especially since we make some of the names up. All material is meant to be viewed as humorous and should not be taken seriously, but keep in mind, we still love a good Viewpoints face-off and all of this material will be on the test. We accept any and all submissions from Tufts students, but any references to Harvard University must be spelled "Hah-vahd" (the Lang Clause). Submissions to The Zamboni are screened by the Editor-in-Chief and/or the Editorial Staff. Decisions are made on the completely subjective grounds of their humor content, but if you're a legacy, we have to take you (the Reisman Clause).
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The Zamboni
NEWS Midwestern Tween Falls For Friend’s Dad By Connor Des Rochers
Peru, IL--Area tween Mariah Dawson has drawn strong condemnation from her friends for her less than normal fixation with clique member Alison Duke’s father. The slight obsession ignited during the summer when all of Ali’s main bitches came over to swim and her dad, Steve, just happened to be doing his daily ab routine in the lana’i. At this sight Mariah remarked through a mouthful of pizza bagels, “Ali, your dad is like, sooooooooooo hot.” The remark was met with nervous chortles from Becky, Dana and Paprika while Alison provided an admirably believable pantomime of projectile vomiting involving the remainder of the bean-dip.
However, following the incendiary moment Mariah got weird. “I would be messaging her about how my hair was such a knotty mess and she would immediately offer to come over and give my dad a neck massage. It just didn’t make sense” stated a perplexed Alison. In the month of September alone, Mariah was caught no less than six times plucking at Mr. Duke’s hair and spritzing herself with his Axe body spray during girl’s night sleepovers. Alison’s mother, Cheryl, has since advised her daughter to stop inviting the smitten girl. “Steve is the most beautiful creature to have every lived. The earth was simply a barren rock before his perfectly sculpted chest and equally flawless heart were lowered down upon it from heaven,” Mariah
ruminated in her Lisa Frank diary. “Maybe when I graduate from my training bra and finally hit puberty Steve will leave his stupid hippo of a wife and we can go live in Narnia.” As of now Alison, Becky, Paprika and Dana have renamed their clique the Fabulous Four from the Fabulous Five following the restraining order taken out on Mariah by the Duke family. Although according to Dana the group is willing to reconsider her membership is she pinky swears to never ever ever ever ever even look at Mr. Duke again. “...And to give me Hot Cheetos” added Becky. “Shut the fuck up, Becky. No one asked you,” thought everyone.
Cute Teenage Girl Experiences Self-Discovery Upon Finding Decaying Corpse By Alie Glaser Rachel Brown, 19, found a dead body in the woods behind her house on Friday. She asserted to the Somerville police, “I was the one who found it! Don’t listen to Andrew!” After reporting her brave and noble discovery of the corpse to police, she was asked about the state of the body. “I’ll get there! But first, let me just say that Andrew and I had a huge fight over who found the corpse, probably because he wants to date me but I would never. Anyway, it was me. I saw its teeth glinting in the sunlight, and I wondered, ‘What kind of whitening strips did he use? ‘Cause my teeth are, like, somewhat streaky in certain kinds of light, and I think it really affects my personal and dating life. Did he use Crest? ‘Cause I tried those before and they didn’t really work.” When asked about the gender and physical
characteristics of the body, she reported, while straightening her hair in the police station, “He was, like, probably pretty cute. He seemed like the kind of guy who’d usually be into me. But given my luck, he was probably dating some ugly chick. Or a ginger. It’s always the redheads who snatch up the good guys. I mean, I know redheads
are rare, but, like, I feel like I’m a rare individual too. Like, sometimes I wear my hair curly. Do you know how many girls do that? You’d be surprised. Not too many.” Detective Mark Drastinberger, who interviewed the intrepid young woman,
told The Zamboni that he was impressed with her composure and grace after the incident. He was particularly struck by his conversation with Brown about what brought her to the woods that night. When asked about her plans that night before stumbling upon the body, she responded, “I was on my way to this awkward OkCupid date, with this guy who honestly looked pretty attractive in his picture, but probably wasn’t. In a different kind of way than the dead guy; a different aesthetic. The dead guy had that dead aesthetic--which is totally, like, a thing.” After an extensive search of the wooded area, police eventually found the body, which was not nearly as cute as Brown had described. Brown ruminated on the incident to The Zamboni’s reporters, “All the good guys are either gay or dead.”
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NEWS “I’m Gay” Announces Science by Ben Meyerson
Science, the popular educational field of study, came out this past weekend and is now officially gay. Science, the subject formerly known as Natural Philosophy, has been planning this announcement for some time, yet it still shocked the other educational fields and scholars alike. “I think it’s time that the world knows that Science is a homosexual school subject, and we’re proud that Science can be the first scholarly discipline to come out of the closet and maintain its integrity as an explanatory process of information gathering,” a spokesperson of Science, aptly named a Scientist, commented. When asked, Science said that it doesn’t think that this announcement will affect its forward and progressive momentum of hypothesizing and experimenting. Science was quoted saying that it only hopes that it “won’t be treated different than any other form of knowledge acquisition.” Upon examination it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Science is homosexual, a test tube is quite phallic and flowers do look like vaginas; not too mention the existence of dolphins, or how gay time travel sounds. History has since expressed its concerns stating that it now has nothing to make it interesting at parties. Gay
Cat Ears Girl Really Wants That to be the Next ‘Thing’ by Ben Meyerson
A Minnesota girl who wears cat ears to school really wants that to be the next big fashion trend. Stephanie Anne Kraune, more popularly known in middle school as ‘Ball SAK,’ has been wearing cat ears for the last two months and really thinks it can be the next ‘thing.’ She has been studying fashion trends for over seven months and is confident she can predict where they appear to be going. “First it was baggy jeans, then it was skinny jeans, the only reasonable next step is cat ears” commented Ball SAK. She thinks this can lead to a trend of cat apparel including fake tails, saying the word “purr” over and over again, and wearing special contacts to make her pupils do that weird freaky thing that cats do. Ball SAK has a history of these cries for attention. The first was being super weird about Johnny dating Jessica, totally not cool, and the most recent being her Giraffe days where she walks around on stilts, eats leaves off of trees, and deep throats anything in the animal kingdom. Hot Sarah, Ridgewood High’s local popular girl, commented that she doesn’t think this trend will catch on and added “she’s not getting invited to my pool party” before flipping her hair and strutting off looking hot as always. When asked in math class why she wasn’t at Hot Sarah’s pool party Ball SAK was unavailable for comment.
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The Zamboni
FEATURES Student profile By Egg Whitez
Welcome back to The Zamboni’s special feature, Student Profiles, where we take a look at what makes some of your fellow Jumbos so interesting and how they make Tufts one of the best schools in the country, filled with some of the most unique people around, each with their own story and bringing something special to their class. Today, meet Jill! She is a freshman probably from Vermont or New York or Connecticut or Massachusetts, who is probably studying IR or psychology or something. When asked what being a global citizen means to her, she replied, “I don’t know. Caring about other countries and shit I guess.” She also loves the environment and is very unique and interesting and shit and brings a unique fucking perspective to our school or something. She’s involved in some clubs and stuff and when our admissions team was carefully crafting the class of 2017 she stood out because she had good grades or started a club or was generally good enough and probably did some other shit too. When asked why she chose Tufts, she responded “I don’t know because it’s a special school and the people are all unique and have their own story or something. Or is it the opposite of that. I don’t know just fix this in the editing room and make me say whatever you want.”
Freshman Jill Sloane loves global citizenship and probably has already made a shitload of annoying friends. She keeps on talking about her “service” trip to Guatamala.
Midwestern Parents Overly Excited by Tufts Dining By Connor Des Rochers
Medford, MA--Parent’s Weekend is just around the corner and everyone knows what that means: eating out. And not that eating out you sicko! Every year thousands of parents descend upon the hallowed hill ready to shell out hundreds of dollars at restaurants that they average plebe college student can’t go to on the reg. Come October, good luck getting a table at one of the many fine dining establishments filled to the brim with chatty teens and their parasitic, parentless friends. This will not be my weekend. My first parent’s weekend as a baby Jumbo was filled with the promise of dinners in the North End with my two mediocre friends or brunches in Davis. However, my dreams were quickly turned to dust with our first family trip to Carmichael. If only you could have seen the sickening joy on my mom’s face when she heard the words “free entry”. It was almost as if she were finding out that my being gay was actually a phase and I had just brought home a good, Christian girl.
And when we actually entered that sad, urine-hued, cave all hope was lost. “Oh my God, honey, they have a full pizza bar!” screeched my dad, like he had just found the fountain of youth. “But Blair, how could you not notice the salad bar!” My mom cried out in such a way I actually thought she was in pain. “Connor, you’re so lucky you have this! I wish I could eat here all the time! Just look! Three different kids of croûtons!” Fucking. Croûtons. “Oh Blair, let’s eat here for dinner!” That question, akin to nails on a chalkboard for any Tufts student, heralded the end of parent’s weekend...and it was only Friday. Dinner was the same, with my parents practically reduced to seizing in front of the tub of Raisin-Bran. While my friends
were off at The Foundry, I could be found with a plate of “unbelievabbbbbllllleeeee” Carm salmon. The next day, feeling nauseated by the scent of Eye Opener Blend, I abandoned my awe-struck parents and instead became an aforementioned parasite tag-along on a friend’s restaurant caravan. When asked where my parents were this weekend, I dryly stated, “Dewick.” At Sunday morning brunch, seated at a sun and oatmeal-drenched table in Carm and in between my dad’s comments on how this much bacon should be illegal, we discussed the weekend. My parents, instead of talking about the time we spent together, only recounted their “amaaaazzzing” and “economical!” meals provided by TUDS. Here’s to another parent’s weekend and another weekend of pretending that my parents didn’t actually come to visit. Fuck TUDS and fuck the balsamic salmon.
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FEATURES
Advice for Freshmen
Having once been young and supple ourselves, we at the Zamboni understand what it’s like to be callow freshmen without a clue. That’s why we want to lend a well-lubed finger to those from the class of 2017 in need of a little guidance and advice to get them through the year. 1. WEAR THAT PRINTED LANYARD. You know that printed “Tufts” lanyard you have around your neck that’s holding your keys? Keep wearing it. It looks really good on you. 2. WHEN IN DOUBT, CALL TEMS. Alcohol abuse is a very serious problem on college campuses, and it’s not something to be taken lightly. Sometimes the symptoms of alcohol poisoning are confusing to detect in the dim glow of the frat party basement lights. You might be unsure if the girl across the room from you who talks and laughs with her friends is only a little bit tipsy, or if she is suffering from permanent brain damage and hypothermia caused by alcohol poisoning. Just to be safe, you should always call TEMS. See your roommate, fast asleep after a night of heavy drinking? Don’t be so sure. They may actually be in a coma, seconds away from aspirating his own vomit. Call TEMS— you can never be too careful. 3. BRING A REUSABLE CUP OR GLASS MUG TO FRAT PARTIES. No one cares more about sustainability at Tufts than fraternity brothers. Show them you also care about our earth by bringing along a Mason jar, mug, or stainless steel water bottle to frat parties so that you won’t have to drink beer out of those wasteful plastic cups. Make sure you put your name on it just in case it gets lost! 4. ASK FOR YOUR PROFESSOR’S CELL PHONE NUMBER. They will take it as a sign of your academic dedication. Text them whenever you have any questions, including those pertaining to sexual hygiene. 5. DON’T SPEAK TO THE TOWNIES. Although many of them appear to be harmless, friendly folks, you should avoid them at all costs because they are evil meat people from the sewers of Hades who are out to impregnate you with their salmon spawns. One moment you’ll be petting their dog, and the next moment they will
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The Zamboni
set a plague of locusts upon you and steal your iClicker. Luckily, there are safety precautions you can take to protect yourself. If you see a townie walking towards you, cross to the other side of the street, and if this is not possible, crouch down into a fetal position, shielding all major organs, and avoid eye contact. 6. YOU’RE NOT HERE TO MAKE FRIENDS. You may have noticed that people always talk about the lifelong friends they make in college, but really these people are soft and mentally weak. With all the frequent hand-shaking and massage trains that go on in freshman dorms, you may be tempted to form so-called “relationships” with your peers. Just remember that college is not able making “friends.” It is about networking. It is about shaking hands with everyone in any given room you’re in and pumping them for information about their parent’s connections. Keep a stack of business cards handy at all times, and remember: you are here to win. 7. YOUR ROOMMATE IS A THREAT. Subdue them.
8. DRESS TO IMPRESS. Wear a snappy suit to class and shine your shoes regularly. Your professor will be im pressed with your professionalism and may hire you to teach the course in the future. Use a palm full of mousse or hair gel to keep the old coiff from moving. Seriously, don’t let it move at all.
9. READ THE TUFTS DAILY. Jumbos all live and breathe the Daily. It is their pride and joy. If you want to stay in the loop about all the latest news about the new landscaping plans for the academic quad, or read a sophomore’s review of a Kooks concert they saw two weeks ago, then you should jump on the bandwagon and religiously read the Daily like the rest of us. You don’t want to get caught in a humiliating situation where someone mentions an article about the fencing team’s latest victory that you haven’t read. Flora Crapshell contributed reporting and Freshmen-class veoyeurism for this article. She has been a Tufts University freshmen since 1945 and has an unhealthy obsession with Brugieres cheese. Her laugh sounds like children.
FEATURES
Social Media LIES: One freshman’s #steez by Megan Z.
Whether it’s your fifteen year old sister’s Facebook statuses about her “boyfriend,” George Glass, or the fact that your ex-girlfriend’s boobiez are about two cup sizes larger than life in her Instagram Selfie, you’re probably pretty aware of one fact: people lie on social media. Here at The Zamboni, we decided to see just how far these lies go by following (on Twitter and in life) the day of a freshman at Tufts who wishes to remain anonymous to protect his #streetcred (#college). Below can be found a comparison between the tweets the anonymous freshman, Dan Dumas, wrote, and the events that actually occurred: 10:30 a.m. Heading to class hungover #RiseAndGrind #college We cannot attest to whether or not Dan was actually feeling hungover (though he does have a slender, somewhat girlish frame and is probably a lightweight) from Wednesday night drinking (which is definitely not a thing). Any symptoms of a hangover, however, were probably just the result of a night spent shifting uncomfortably on the floor outside his room while his roommate nailed yet another blonde girl.
12:00 p.m. Shoutout to the hotties in the dining hall rn #yogapants #college Dan has recently been questioning his sexuality. He would have preferred to give a shoutout to the blonde boy in the burger line with the soulful blue eyes.
9:13 p.m. Dat ass doe #ass #yogapants #assinyogapants #college Dan actually saw the blue-eyed boy on the sidewalk. His heart skipped a beat. 9:42 p.m. THIRSTYYY THURSDAYYY #beer #college At nine p.m., Dan’s roommate left to go meet up with a blonde girl. Dan realized he should probably be out drinking or something when he overheard a few people on his floor talking about pregaming. Dan began to text everyone he’d met since arriving on campus to find something to do. 11:51 p.m. Drunkkk af hajaha #bitchDontrkilllMmyVibe Dan was not drunk.
Ed. Note: We’ve all been there, Dan.
1:48 p.m. Lolllllll this class is a fuckin joke #OverIt #YOLO #college Dan was not in class at the time, but did feel the need to assert his ambivalence. 4:20 p.m. 4:20 lololol #420 #weed #college Dan smoked for the first time last week. He coughed a lot. And, despite what he tweeted at the time, Dan did not actually get “high as fuck #dope #pun.” 5:39 p.m. Straight Grubbin #dinner #college Though he was much closer to Carm, Dan trekked all the way back to Dewick, where he’d had lunch, in hopes of seeing the soulful-eyed boy again. This trip proved unsuccessful (though the variety of food in Dewick was markedly better than in Carm.)
7:04 p.m. Hittin the gym #swole #college Dan went to the gym, but was kind of tired from the hills. He walked on the treadmill for fifteen minutes, and this actually worked well for him as his breathing got so heavy that other students thought he’d just finished some sort of sprint set, and were impressed. Till they saw him bench.
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FEATURES
Catching Up with Tinky Winky By Will Owen
Who could forget that lovable, Barney-colored freak we call Tinky Winky? Only twisted British minds could come up with such an enchanting and influential character on the BBC classic children’s show, Teletubbies. We at the Zamboni had the pleasure of catching up with our favorite Teletubby, who has recently been immortalized as a gay role model for youth in the Trevor Project’s “It Gets Better” campaign. So pleased to chat with you, Tinky! I always love a good opportunity to practice speaking the infantile gibberish I learned during my semester abroad. To start off, what makes YOU unique as a gay role model? Oh gosh, well, I’d say my racial ambiguity: Little gays of all backgrounds can identify with me for this reason. I can also confidently say I’m the most psychedelic gay idol to watch after smoking some bud, other than the late Mr. Rogers, of course.
Do you have a favorite career moment? Definitely nuzzling up to teenage Britney Spears’ newly augmented right breast on her iconic 1999 Rolling Stone cover. I never expected the controversy that would arise from the infantilization in that photo! I just thought Britney was a nice girl – not yet a woman – whose signature baby voice and sexual irreverence made her fit in nicely among Teletubbies. Either way, she still gets my green blood pumping. What are your thoughts on current gay role models? Hmmm… That Drake guy sure is cute! I think he and I would find a lot of common ground, me being from Teletubbyland and him being from that other funny but forgettable country humans call Canada. I bet we could make some steamy home movies and then watch them on the TV. screen on my stomach. I can see it now… Tinky and His Rapper that’s Twinky Get Kinky… Speaking of home movies, have you ever considered doing porn?
My Daddy’s Hobby By Molly, age 6
My name is Molly and this is a report on football. My daddy explained it to me and it is very hard to understand. Football is a TV show like Dora, except sometimes they do live shows like The Wiggles. Football comes on every Sunday, except sometimes it comes on other days too. Daddy says that only some of the shows are good though, and the rest of them are for pussycats. I don’t know why someone would make a TV show for cats. When daddy watches football he drinks his daddy juice, which is only for daddies. I’m not allowed to have daddy juice. Mommy shouldn’t have it either but sometimes she does anyway and then she gets mad. Football is also a game like Duck Duck Goose. It looks like of wrestling and also tag. Miss Johnson says wrestling is bad because fighting is against the rules, but one time I saw daddy wrestling with mommy and their clothes were off. It looked like daddy was winning. The next day I told Miss Johnson at school and she said that only grown ups are allowed to wrestle each other. That doesn’t seem fair. When I grow up I want to wrestle with all of the boys. In football there are good guys and bad guys. The bad guys are the Patriots, which doesn’t make sense because the founding fathers were patriots and they were nice people. The good guys are the Broncos, and they are all horses. They look like people but they are actually horses. The other good guys are sometimes the 49ers. The 49ers are the good guys until they football against the Broncos, and then they are the bad guys. 49 is a big number. I think my mommy might be 49. I told her once that she looked like she was 100 and she said a no-no word and then she cried. Daddy also it’s ok for mommy to say no-no words because it is her time of the month. Football is my daddy’s favorite thing in the world besides mommy and me and grandma. Except maybe not grandma because she always says that mommy was an idiot for marrying him.
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I was asked to pose for Playgirl at the height of my career, but it just felt so cliché. I did film a sex-tape involving my pet vacuum cleaner Noo-noo, but I’m waiting for the right moment to pull a Kardashian and have it leak “without my knowledge.” Did you ever have beef with any of the other Teletubbies? For a while I was worried Dipsy was trying to steal my thunder as the token gay Teletubby on the show. One time I caught him playing with my special purse, and I taught him about the evils of homosexuality so he’d never do it again. Oh yeah, and just between us girls, Laa-Laa was fucking all of our producers and creative directors. Get out! Laa-Laa? What a scandal! Well, to finish, do you have any words of wisdom for the gay youth who look up to you? My only words of advice are that you never let anyone tell you Telecustard isn’t delicious.
FEATURES Winter Winners: Making the Most of Your Hibernal Hellhole
It’s time to find your muskox furs, dust off your dog sled teams, and burn all your copies of An Inconvenient Truth for kindling, kids, because this winter will probably kill someone you love. It appears that snow is poised to finally overtake crack cocaine as the powdery white substance that has caused the most collective misery to humankind. But stay frosty, Zamboners! Before you break out your copy of the Donner Party Survival Guide, take a look at these heroes who have faced the nor’easter head-on and bested the frigid old bitch we call winter. Compared to these fine specimens of survival, you don’t stand a chance, but at least you have something to read while you wait for the wolves to come. Roland Emmerich This winter, the New York City area in particular has been shellacked by snow in a scenario eerily similar to the one predicted by German filmmaker Roland Emmerich, in his 2004 disaster film The Day After Tomorrow. This of course proves that Emmerich has been right all along, and as a result he has suddenly become the voice of a generation. If we don’t die next year in the megatsunami-cano-quake predicted in Emmerich’s magnum opus 2012, at least expect cinema as a whole to benefit from the prophetic, almost SyFy-Original-quality movies of this spectacular hack. Akira Iritani This Japanese man of science may very well produce the first cloned woolly mammoth if it can be successfully carried to term by a female elephant. In anticipation of a new ice age and a return to hunter-gathering, preorders from around the world have been
piling up in Iritani’s mailbox, and mastodons may once again roam the barren tundra that has become our daily reality. It’s also been reported that the byproduct of any failed cloning attempt will be displayed in Barnum Hall as a successor to Jumbo. Neopagans Between “Snowpocalypse,” “Snowmageddon,” and “Snook of Revelations,” it’s become painfully clear to The Zamboni that we of the “popular” media have exhausted our list of Judeo-Christian End-Time hyperboles. As a result, potential sensationalist names like “Snowragnarok” and “Götterdämmersnow” are already on tap for the next big storms heading our way, which will prove to be a great marketing opportunity for the myriad of berserkers, druids, and sun worshippers who are seeking to win over followers by popularizing big foreign-sounding words that no one can pronounce. Wicker man and beehive sales are expected to skyrocket. Alaskans How will even more snow benefit Alaska? Two words: Land bridge. Finally, those poor hockey moms and Joe-Six-Packs will be able to go back to the land of their ancestors, finally escaping being perpetually associated with Sarah Palin, by crossing back over to Russia. Sure, the trek across the vast Siberian wilderness will be long and fraught with peril (and possibly bears), but the rewards will be well worth the trouble. It’ll be like the Oregon Trail except with less dysentery and more frostbite. The land of mail-order brides and that one song from Tetris awaits!
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ARTS Briefly Noted Book Reviews By Vicky Rathsmill
“My Daddy”
The 2008 Financial Crisis: What Really Happened by John Brown John Brown stares at the reader with a wistful expression on the inside flap of his recently published Wall Street exposé, The 2008 Financial Crisis: What Really Happened. He is a handsome man in his late 30s with deep blue eyes and a slightly crooked nose. His gaze seems to be searching, yearning for something beyond the futile existence of daily life in the 21st century. What is he searching for? Perhaps we will never know. My Mother’s Love: A Memoir by Nancy Reid The most gripping character in Nancy Reid’s memoir about her mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s is the family poodle, Lulu. Although Lulu is an ancillary for much of the work, her presence is deeply felt. Whether she is swimming in the lake near the Reid’s summer home, barking at the neighbor kids, or standing solemnly her owner’s deathbed, Lulu makes us question what is truly human. Is God Gay?: Queer Readings of Famous Texts by Sylvia Johansson In Sylvia Johansson’s new book, which is currently making waves in the literary world, the world-renowned queer theorist provides novel readings of well-known texts such the Bible. Of particular interest are the chapters “Jesus in Hot Pants,” and “Butch-Femme Relationships in Little Dorrit.” The Tears of a Clown by Anne Johnson In Anne Johnson’s new novel, The Tears of a Clown, the protagonist Chuckles goes to an Indian restaurant to celebrate his graduation from Pasadena Clown College. While at the restaurant, Chuckles orders spicy curry. When I go to Indian restaurants I usually have to ask the waiter to make my curry mild because I don’t like spicy food. Sometimes, the mild is even too spicy and I have to ask for yogurt sauce to stop my tongue from burning. A Poem For Every Drop of Rain by Cedric Freedman Speaking of Indian food, I guess I would say that my favorite dish, if I absolutely had to choose, would be chicken tikka masala. When I order chicken tikka masala, I almost always get a mango lassi as well. Mango lassi are cold and sweet and they provide a nice contrast to the heaviness of the meat dish. Usually I can’t even order dessert because I am so full from dinner!
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The Zamboni
Sung to the tune of your grandma’s favorite song! Verse 1 with castanets and rain stick Hey! Daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy Daddy Daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy Dooo whip crack! Daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy Daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy glue whip crack! Chorus (with tin whistle) Ohhhhhh daddy daddy! Ohhhhhh daddy daddy! Woahhhh daddy daddy! Daddy daddy woo! Piccolo solo for 20 measures Verse 2 with castanets, rain stick, and sleigh bells Hey! Daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy whip crack! Daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy Do Daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy whip crack! Daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy shoe Repeat chorus twice with children’s voices and tin whistle. End with small Chinese gong
© 2013 Laura Rathsmill
Sugar Daddy Knows Best By Will Owen
My husband Shaheen and I get a lot of stares when we’re out in public – at a café, walking in a park, shopping on Melrose... It’s not because we’re gay. (Prop 8 is no more for god sakes!) It’s because I’m 22 and he’s 87. Ever since adolescence, I’ve dreamt of having a sugar daddy. I’d burn with envy seeing Portia walk confidently with Ellen on the red carpet, and cried myself to sleep for weeks when Woody Allen married his daughter, Soon-Yi. I thought I’d wither away before ever meeting my gay Hugh Hefner -- until I got scooped up by Shaheen. Shaheen is one of Dubai’s most ruthless oil tycoons. His mansion on Mulholland Dr. is just one of many of his homes around the world, and he only drinks water from a particular Alpine spring in Switzerland. Basically, he’s fucking loaded. People ask me all sorts of questions regarding our relationship/business arrangement, the most common being “How are you sexually attracted to such a
saggy old man?” A gentleman of Shaheen’s age is more seasoned with style and grace than some West Hollywood gym rat, I always say. It’s funny how we praise the beauty of crinkling, decaying fall leaves, but can’t appreciate how humans look on the verge of death. Anyway, sex with Shaheen is not a problem, especially since I can always switch his Viagra out with one of my Xanaxes if I’m not in the mood. Shaheen lets me live out all of the deeply problematic, Orientalist fantasies I’ve been harboring ever since I saw Princess Jasmine chained up in Disney’s Aladdin. (Let’s just say he plays a chilling Jafar.) Another question I often get is, “What the fuck do you do all day?” Careers are just something yuppies do to feel important. Every day is a new day when you’re the boytoy of a sugar daddy. One morning I’ll spend gabbing with Russian models over brunch at the Hotel Bel-Air, and that same evening I’ll be dancing at one of the decadent parties Shaheen and I throw at our home up in wine country. I’ll even blackout with Lindsay Lohan at whatever new club has opened up Downtown when I feel like
Why I Decided To Do The Pregnancy, Too:
A Look into Mutual Birthing
My name is Miles Feedle and I decided to join my beautiful wife Lassanya as we prepare for our wonderful bundle of joy. We are having a girl, and although I was overjoyed with the news that I’d be a “dadda” I didn’t want Lassanya to be alone in carrying our child. How could I be her partner in parenthood if I hadn’t experienced everything that she did? I wanted to feel every cramp, every kick, and every moment of joy as a product of love grows within us. So I asked the doctors to impregnate me. How do you make a male-bodied husband pregnant, you ask? Well it’s a simple process, really. It’s like those tiny capsules that you put into water, and then they expand into spongy creatures. Just along those lines is how I grew my own child. As soon as our gynecologist Dr. U Teerous confirmed that my wife’s eggo was preggo, I was given a large pill to swallow, along with a milkshake made from ground-up placenta, vaginal fluids and menstrual blood to help the capsule expand. The pill got stuck in my throat on the way down, but on the plus side the milkshake was so delicious that I’ve started incorporating it into my breakfasts as a form of nutrients for our spongy love-child. Sometimes I like to add my own special ingredient for extra protein.
OPINION
doing charity work. Life is never “boring” or “meaningless” with a sugar daddy, and I don’t feel at all “restricted” by my relationship. Shaheen doesn’t bat an eye if I buy an $80,000 vintage Valentino fur coat, or if my ladies-in-waiting and I drop 2 gees to cure our drunchies at In-N-Out Burger. But that’s not to say things are always smooth sailing. Since the start of our partnership, Shaheen has made some strange requests. Every morning he demands I bathe in organic Bulgarian rosewater to combat my “youthful stench.” He also gets angry if I over-tip a bellhop at a hotel because it makes him look “nouveau riche.” Sometimes I get tired of people thinking he’s my dad and asking me what it’s like to be a first generation American. But alas, I cannot imagine life without Shaheen’s wealth. I can’t even look at old pictures of myself, disgusted by all the sale items I’m wearing and the honest sparkle in my unjaded eyes. We are a union of dichotomies – of ripe and overripe – until death do Shaheen part.
As my wife’s belly swells with excitement, so will mine. My sponge fetus has gone from being a tiny little pill in the palm of my hand to roughly the size of a bowling ball. Just as the baby kicks in my wife’s stomach, I often feel the quivering of my little child as it absorbs the inner lining of my stomach. Just thinking about that precious creature warms my heart, and also my pants. The extra weight causes me to lose control of my bladder often. What a beautiful miracle! We’ve installed a second toilet in our bathroom so that my wife and I can throw up from morning sickness together. Afterwards, we like to hold hands and gaze upon what each of our wonders of life have produced in the toilet; her, whatever she ate for lunch, and me, bits of blue and red foam mixed with the remnants of the morning’s milkshake. We are such a good team. When the time comes for the baby to be delivered, my wife and I will sit side by side as she delivers our beautiful baby and I shit out my sponge-child. Once my little bundle of shit-stained love, Spangelina Holey, has been pulled out of my anal cavity, Lassanya and I will hold our real newborn child. Our eyes will be full of love and devotion to raising our daughter, knowing that we have both experienced the wonderful process of pregnancy and childbirth. Then we can happily return home, one complete family with an extra special dish sponge
Vol. XXV, No. 1 - The Daddy Issue
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Point/Counterpoint: Nipple Hair LuLu’s Health and Beauty Corner: “Ladies, Remove that Unsightly Nipple Hair!”
LuLu’s Health and Beauty Corner: A Rebuttal
By Lara “LuLu” Ratsmell
By Penny Scesariville , Dictated but not read
Gone are the days when a woman’s nipple hair was her crowning glory: when poets would write love sonnets describing in minute detail the way their lady’s nipple hair adorned her areola with delicate ringlets, when gentlewomen would present a single strand to their lovers setting off for war as a token of their affection. Past us are also the days of the Swingin’ Sixties and radical Seventies, when womyn would proudly display their unkempt nipple hair to the world as a symbol of their sexual freedom. Now female nipple hair is once again restored to its rightful place as a source of deep humiliation and shame. In this day and age, any female over the age of 10 would elicit taunts and jeers from her classmates if she even flashes one wispy tendril while dressing for gym class. You may wonder, “Shouldn’t I be proud of my nipple hair?” Well I, Lara “LuLu” Ratsmell, say absolutely not, you nasty bohemian freak woman! Feminism is all about choice, and choosing to remove one’s nipple hair can be the most empowering choice a woman can make. You might be asking, “But why should I take your advice about hair-grooming?” Well, just think about all the hours you’ll save each morning by not having to detangle your nipple hair!
A neofeminist environmentally friendly look at anthropologic factors regarding the crossection between intersectional oppression and hair of the female nipple.
Now normally we recommend removing unsightly nipple hair with boiling hot wax, but some of my readers sent us their methods, and these were our favorites! •
Tamsin, Hooker Corner, Indiana: “One part oil of snake, two parts cow warts. Let sim mer in slow cooker for five hours, stirring ever 3 minutes, then drain and chill in the fridge for 2 min utes! Wa-la! Now your nips are bare and smell great too!”
•
Nancy, Bird-in-Hand, PA “One part door, one part doorknob, one part thread, one part friend or neighbor: Open door. Tie thread around those unruly tendrils and tie the opposite end to the doorknob. Ask friend/neighbor to slam the door. Quick and practically painless.”
About the author: Besides alerting women to the offensiveness of obscure body hair, LuLu enjoys petting kittens and making lasagna. She studied at Lucy’s Cosmetology School of Arlington for two weeks before dropping out.
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The Zamboni
Nipple hair is a supremely controversial matter, and the very idea that LuLu would choose to address it in such a bigoted and homophobic way is frankly appalling. Lulu clearly belongs to that group of upper-class white suburban-dwelling veal-eating straight women who have recently instigated a vicious hate campaign to subjugate their hirsute peers. One minority group particularly victimized by the anti-nipple hair movement are The Sapphists. While I have never seen one of these sexual inverts in the flesh, I do know from information obtained through various voyeuristic exploits that many self-identified “butch” wimmin, the studs of this Tribadist community, would prefer to keep their nipple hair as a sign of Virility, however under the current Cultural Regime they are forced to give up their dreams of a Luscious Chest Pelt due to the forces of socially dictated heteronormative hegemonic feminine norms imposed on their gender. In light of these atrocities of trichological injustice I urge both my fellow Wimmin and all of the understanding New Age men out there to stand up for what is right. We must once again fight the battle against areolar tyranny, and we will do so with our beautiful, unkempt bosoms thrust upward and outward for the world to see. I am proud of the coif upon my teat, and I challenge LuLu or anyone else who has a problem with my personal grooming habits to try to shave my chest. My hair will only come back darker, thicker, and even more beautiful than before. About the author: Penny Scesariville owns and operates a chinchilla farm in Northern Maine. In her free time she enjoys sweating profusely and spying. She likes bees.
LOVE
Is Your Partner Cheating on YOU?! Our readers share how they knew their partners were two-timing them.
“She’s 4 months pregnant, but you lost your penis in a card game 6 months ago.” - Rachel, Washington
“You see him smelling a bouquet of roses and sighing, the way young lovers in the springtime do.” - Marsha, Wisconsin “She walks into the house with a used condom on her shoulder. When you ask her about it, she quickly brushes it off and says that a bird must have dropped it on her.” - Chuck, New Jersey “You find a ring of lipstick (not in your color!) around the base of his penis.” - Emma, Florida
“She smells like fresh sex.” - Harold, Missouri “When he pulls into the driveway in the morning after not coming home one night and you catch him sitting in the car for over an hour staring into nothingness, with tired, sad eyes and a face that speaks of unspeakable regret.” - Anne, California
“You find boob-prints on the windows of his car.” - Sharon, Michigan “She files for divorce because she doesn’t love you anymore.” - John, Vermont
“You walk into the bedroom and see him making love to another woman.” - Maria, Illinois “You see him in the grocery store with his secret family, laughing the way he used to.” - Mavis, Virginia
The World is Your Dildo!
Look at them, blissfully unaware of what sinful purpose they’ll serve come nightfall
Lets face it ladies— dildos are expensive! Sure there are those lucky women who can afford whatever outrageous new penile substitute strikes their fancy, but some of us have to work for a living. Luckily for you, our experts here at Zamboni have compiled a list of affordable all-natural alternatives to commercial brands, 1. Cucumber- This is one of the oldest tricks in the book, and why mess with a good thing? Try to find one that is fairly firm so as to minimize the chance of part of it coming off inside of you. If a cucumber doesn’t seem like the right fit for your lady parts, try using different phallic fruits and vegetables such as carrots, zucchini, or a whole watermelon. You could also try taking bananas from Dewick, but be sure to replace them afterward. Helpful hint: when you’re done with your veggies, try cutting them up to make a fresh spring salad. Yum! 2. Your neighbor’s lawn ornaments- Many people are unaware of the treasure trove of exciting objects just sitting in their neighbor’s front lawn. Wait until midnight then sneak onto your neighbor’s property making as little noise as possible. Once again phallic objects work best, although positive results have been reported from using smaller lawn gnomes. Tip: avoid penetration with lighting devices such as lawn lamps or tiki torches, as masturbation is a shameful act meant to be done in the dark. 3. A stick- It might not look very pretty, but it’s hard to go wrong with a nice wooden stick. Make sure you check for and remove any arrant fragments to avoid vaginal splinters. Unlike using your garden variety Garden Gnome, this won’t give you crabs, but it might give you termites. 4. An entire pig- This seems fairly self-explanatory. 5. A stranger’s penis-Men looking for sex can be found in many places, such as crowded bars and catholic churches, but the most willing sexual partners are those who are colloquially referred to gentlemen of the evening. If possible, give business to gigolos close to your home to promote your local neighborhood welfare. Before taking one home, enquire about his penile length to ensure that it’s within your desired range. For beginners, this should be anywhere from 6 to 8 inches. To save on condoms, several layers of saran wrap may be substituted as a form of protection, and try using acai juice instead of lubricant. The healthy, all natural antioxidants in the acai will moisturize and clean the area, leaving you with a far healthier cunt.
Vol. XXV, No. 1 - The Daddy Issue
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ADVICE
Dear Zamboni-
Two weeks ago I met a beautiful female who bewitched me from the moment I met her. We are deeply in love, and I believe she’s perfect for me, except for one thing—she’s a horse. What should I do? –Head over Hooves
Dear HoH, I don’t blame you. Horses are truly majestic creatures. If it really is true love, then don’t break the connection simply because she is different. My brother-in-law is a horse, and he and my sister have a healthy marriage and four sturdy kids. Just keep in mind that you will need to groom her daily with a hard and soft brush, and scoop out all the clumps of feces and dirt from her stall every day. Best of luck!
–The Zamboni
Dear Zamboni-
Last week I met the man of my dreams. I lay awake at night thinking about making passionate love to him. He’s the perfect guy for me, except for one problem…his head is a jack-o-lantern! This is an issue for me because I wear a lot of hairspray and extremely flammable polyester clothing, so I can’t be close to open flames. And yet, the one I love has a flame burning just beneath his face every hour of the day. He says it’s burning for me, but I just feel the real sting of fire consuming my hair. I could sit with for hours on my loveseat, just talking, you know, and caressing his ripe, orange flesh, but then the smoke alarm goes off behind us, and as I get up to take out the batteries, I can’t help but wonder if we can make it. Help me, Zamboni. –Juliet (and her sweet orange Romeo)
Dear Juliet, This is a difficult situation not many of us have been through. I can say, however, that love is the earth’s fifth element that is far more powerful than fire. If you and your Romeo are not just in lust and what you have is in fact true love, Cupid will spare you. Don’t feel as though you can no longer chemically alter your hair or wear cheap clothing – love conquers all.
–The Zamboni
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The Zamboni
PERSONALS Missed Connections ============================
Do you believe in love after loss?
We met at the end of the green line. I walked behind you for 31 blocks. We made eye contact many times, but I couldn’t tell if you were winking. I was winking. The speed of your footsteps was almost as fast as the beats of my heart. You ducked behind a Radio Shack and I lost you. Your grace was like embers after Vesuvius. My heart petrified in its love. At least I still have some of your hair. ============================
It might be forbidden...
You stared at me when I walked by you. Something about your eyes made you alluring. And your heavy breathing made me realize that you found me just as attractive as I found you. Some might not approve, but if you feel the same way that I do then let’s run away together. I just wish I knew how you felt. It’s too bad that you’re a human and I’m a horse. ============================
The spicy burrito, please...
That is both my favorite onthe-go meal and my name for you. Ever since I saw you behind the counter at Hodgegon, squeezing guacamole-paste out a ketchup bottle, I’ve known that we are meant to be. You’re concentration on what you were doing -your poise, your grace -- was
both enigmatic and thrilling. Why were you paying so much attention to the guacamole-paste? I suppose I’ll never know. ============================
Look at the stars tonight...
...And then I’ll know that our eyes are locked once again. Do you see Betelgeuse? I see Betelgeuse. Isn’t it weird how looking at Betelgeuse just mak--- OH GOD WHO IS THAT GUY. HE LOOKS LIKE A ZOMBIE OR REFEREE OR SOMETHING HOLY FUCKING SHIT! OH MY GOD THIS IS TERR-============================
Ur cute ;P
I saw youre pics online :). I think ur cute and we shld talk sometime. My name’s Angela but you can just call me Angel ;) <3. I’m single and not afraid of anal. Call me. ============================
Who do you think you are?
Because I think you’re pretty special. ============================
Tickled at the Tea House
You came into the tea shop where I work last night, looking tired and weary. You ordered a Ginger Lime Rooibos. I put a little bit of my love in it, just to see you smile. I hope you come in again sometime. I’ll give you a discount on tapioca bubbles.
============================
Salem All Hallow’s Eve
You touched me Halloween night, touched the lines on my hands as you read their secrets for $30. I never thought I’d fall in love with a practicing witch, but I daresay I want your incantations and potions. Turn me into a frog and kiss me, fool! ============================
We fucked...
...at my bubbie’s wake. I’ll never forgot clawing at your body in the closet, swimming in a sea of coats. “Mazel tov!” We yelled. Bubbie would be happy to see me happy. Where are you now? I can’t find you on JDate.
======================== Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushy stuff I just wanna love you and be who I am. ============================
Infinite Abyss
You remind me of Natalie Portman in Garden State -- the perfect manic pixie dream girl. I love how you have so many guinea pigs, and how you listen to super cool alternative people music like Best Coast and Bon Iver. Sometimes you snort when you laugh and I think it’s really adorable and really unique. Even more unique than how you ramble when you’re nervous. May we explore each other’s infinite abysses sometime?
Vol. XXV, No. 1 - The Daddy Issue
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The Poetry Reach-Around “My Feelings” By: Will Owen “Just Call Me Daddy” By: Will Owen I am the reservoir Of liquefied love For you to dive into. Just call me daddy, And liquidate my love, Like a penniless business. Let me sing to you Like daddies do… About coursing streams, And ironclad princes. Daddy’s love is limitless, Like a Wichita sky, Or a sinister starlet. Just call me daddy with Your Body. Float in my gravity chamber, Climb my mountain, And dream under my Milky Way. Just call me Daddy.
My feelings are important because they are Mine.
“The Day I Thought You Were Conceived”
They exist.
By: Whosits Whatsits
As red breasts stick to robins, my feelings stay close to my Heart.
It was a Sunday I think I was a male nurse And so was she Except she was female and a janitor. So really nothing was the same Ever again.
They are the radishes I gingerly tend to in my garden; they are the water I purify in my Brita. Because I feel them you should respect them. By virtue of their Existence in my hands, my gut, my groin, You are to caress them like you do kin.
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The Zamboni
“I love you, Fido” She said On the night I think you were conceived. Fido was the dog People talk about you. The first anal baby, they said. “Never go ass-to-mouth” They said. Your mom’s a whore.
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â&#x20AC;&#x153;I believe in the country America used to be.â&#x20AC;? -Chief Justice Lana Del Rey