advice

Gospel of Mark (Part Deux)

December 4, 2010 By Mark Sakauye

Welcome to the second edition of The Gospel of Mark. In this section, I’ll be answering all of your questions with the wisdom I’ve garnered from almost twenty-two whole years on this earth. So sit back and prepare to fill your brain-hole with my brand of knowledge. It goes well with my specially packaged awesome-sauce, and if you email in the next five minutes, I’ll double your order for free!

Dear Mark the Omniscient,

For months now I’ve harbored a little crush on this one guy I know…he’s smart, funny, accomplished, and he’s got this way of talking about Calculus formulas that makes me weak in the knees every single class period. I should probably mention that he’s also my professor, but that’s not really the focus here–the problem is, I don’t know how to get his attention.
I’ve tried everything I could think of: I raised my hand as often as possible during class, even when he hasn’t actually asked a question yet, just so he knows I’m listening; I put cute little messages on all of my test papers–you know, F(x,y,z)=WE’LL NAME OUR BABIES FRED AND MINA, subtle things like that; sometimes I even go over to his house uninvited and wait in the bushes until–though actually, I guess he doesn’t really know about that, so never mind.
How can I win his love? And please, don’t tell me that I’m ‘acting insane’ or ‘behaving like a stalker,’ cause I’ve heard it all before from my friends and family and, honestly, I don’t think it’s very helpful.
Anxiously awaiting your reply,

– Hot for Teacher

Dear Crazy Stalker Lady,

There are a few options you can try. You were actually pretty close to garnering his true love when you were outside in the bushes. All you were missing was a boom box and some cheesy 80s music. That works basically every time. True story.
If for some strange reason that doesn’t work, what you’ll need to do is learn how to play guitar and sing an acoustic version of The Bloodhound Gang’s “The Bad Touch.” Now, I’m not saying this works on every man, but it does work on every man with functional ears. Midway through the song he should stop you and say, “You had me at ‘let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.’”
On the off chance that these plans don’t work, this should be your last resort. This scheme sounds a little out there, but it’s foolproof. What you’ll need first is a gun, a ninja costume, and a large group of other people willing to sacrifice their lives for you. Take him hostage inside his own house, but make sure to bring plenty of supplies. You’ll be there for a while. Here’s the tricky part, make sure that when the police arrive, they don’t storm the place and shoot everyone. All you have to do is stick it out for 7-9 months until he forms Stockholm syndrome and falls in love with you. Yes, I’m aware that that’s the plot of Bel Canto.
Shut up, of course it ended well for everyone.

Dear Mark the Omniscient,

My roommate came home last night with two large Ziploc bags full of a white, powdery substance and placed them on the kitchen table. He told me that inside one of them was a lot of cocaine he planned to sell to a certain frat house as part of their initiation rights. Then he told me that inside of the other one was a lot of powdered sugar he was going to use to cover his freshly baked bunt cake. He told me not to touch them, and then he went to take a shower.
Seeing as I’m all too curious to let sleeping dogs lie — or powdery bags sit, for that matter — what should I do with the bags? Should I switch them at the risk of improving his bunt cake and pissing off some frat folk? Should I snort a sample of both just to see if he’s messing with me? Something else entirely?
Advise me, please, oh wise one.

– Powdered in Panama

Dear Caring Roommate,

All of the above. Make a map of the U.S. and do a little crosscountry road trip. Once that’s completed, switch out the bag of cocaine with another bag of powdered sugar. That way he’ll get two delicious bags of confectionary. Who can be mad at that? Take the cocaine and have a little talk with your local Columbian drug dealer friend (everyone has one). Topics of conversation include the following: puppies, Zeppos, Hot Tub Time Machine, and all of your emotional problems. Once you’ve finished your little talk, take the bag of cocaine back home and turn your house into a snowy winter scene for the whole family to enjoy!
Note 1: A fire extinguisher may help in this task, but be careful. You may think it’ll only make a *poof*, but it might actually make a big fucking explosion.
Note 2: Also, tell those pledges to rethink whether they have what it takes to be an Alpha Chi.

If you have a question of your own that you would like to have passed through the mental bowels of Mark the Omniscient, address an email to mto.theslant@gmail.com and see if Mark will answer your question in our next issue.

Filed Under: Advice, Articles Tagged With: advice, gospel, gospel of mark, mark

Gospel of Mark

November 12, 2010 By Mark Sakauye

Welcome to the first edition of The Gospel of Mark. In this section, I’ll be answering all of your dumb questions with the wisdom I’ve garnered from almost twenty-two whole years on this earth. So sit back and prepare to fill your head with my brand of knowledge.

Dear Mark the Omniscient,
I adopted this dog from the shelter, and they assured me it was potty trained. I’ve been picking up its mess since I brought it home. I bring it into the bathroom to show it where to go, but it acts like it’s never even seen a toilet! Is there a special trick to this?
Yours, 
The Toilet Totalitarianist

Dear Owner of Retarded Dog,
This question really requires an in-depth knowledge of the dog psyche. Fortunately for you, I have a Ph.D. in Canine Psychiatry! What you need to do is replace all of your flooring with toilet seat tiles (TSTs). This will trick the dog into thinking that the only place it can go to the bathroom is in a toilet. Give it about four weeks, then start slowly removing small sections of TSTs every week or so until the only toilet left is the actual one. Now flushing the toilet is an entirely different beast all together, but you didn’t ask me that, so screw you, I’m not telling.
———————————————————————
Dear Mark the Omniscient,
My boyfriend lives in Ireland. I met him three years ago at a bar during my high school senior trip. As I’m sure you know, the age limit for alcohol over there is only 18 years old. We had a great weekend relationship, and now I have a three-year-old son. Two weeks after I came home to the States, my boyfriend robbed a bank at gunpoint, so now he’s stuck in jail in Ireland for the next 100 years or so. I want my son to know his father. Should I move to Ireland to be closer to him?
Sincerely, 
Mother from Millersville
Dear Knocked Up Girl,
Absolutely yes! Ireland is a wonderful place to live. Their people smell amazing if I’m to believe anything from Irish Spring body soap. Also, I hear there are pots of gold everywhere, just lying around! Watch out for those leprechauns though, they go for your ankles, the little bastards. As for the ex(?)-boyfriend, have your son learn everything possible from him. Prison is a learning experience, so I’m sure there will be plenty of lessons to share.
———————————————————————
yo MTO,
i needa getta job but i ain’t gots no diploma and the ged test is too hard and costs lyke 50 bucks and i ain’t gots that cuz i ain’t gots no job. whaddo i do?
Peace.

Dear University of Tennessee Student,
How did you find this email address? What the hell kind of a letter was that? Who do you think you are? What you so stupid-dumb for?

All these questions and more will be
answered in the next issue…
If you have a question of your own that you would like to have passed through the mental bowels of Mark the Omniscient, address an email to

and see if it gets answered
in the next issue of The Slant!

Filed Under: Advice, Articles Tagged With: advice, gospel, mark, omniscient

The Ten Masturbation Commandments

October 23, 2010 By admin

Recently, masturbation has come under fire, mostly from the same people who choose not to have any sexual intercourse with any person of the oppositesex and remain celibate until marriage, or until the “right one” shows up, or God descends from the clouds and says “be fruitful and multiply.” (Oh wait, I think that last one already happened.) Anyway, we’re not scientists, but we at The Slant think that our readers need to relieve that sexual frustration that our ape-like ancestors left for us in our DNA.
Now, if you follow politics and also follow the logic of Delaware Senate Candidate Ms. Christine O’Donnell, who said in the 90s, “The Bible says that lust in your heart is committing adultery. You can’t masturbate without lust!” then please do not read any further. These rules and regulations are only for those who are guilty of committing this adulterous crime.
Are they gone? Alright, cool! (By the way, all of us that are still reading should have a party and not invite the abstinent folks.) So, even though we don’t consider masturbation to be a sin, we still believe that there are ways you can sin while masturbating. Even though you’re alone, well, most of the time, there are still certain rules which should govern your behavior while jerkin’ it. Until now, these rules have been mostly regional and inconsistent and thus relatively ineffective. That’s why we’ve gone all the way up Mt. Semen-ai and come back with these: The 10 Commandments of Masturbation!
(1) When in doubt, whip it out.
Alright, so, this is for all of you with roommates. It’s a quiet afternoon during finals, and your roommate’s out taking their test. You look at the clock: 4:55. You can’t remember if their test ends at 4:30 or 5:30. You’ve been stressing over your finals, and you want to relieve a little stress before the next cram session. One decision can lead you to a miserably embarrassing and awkward situation and one that your roommate would never let you live down. The other can bring you a few seconds of unbelievable relief that only a precious few nights of raging could match. The clock is ticking; what do you do?!?! Well, it looks like almighty has once again and stepped in with the answers. Take care of that raging monkey in your pants and finish the job. Who knows? Maybe one day your roommate will be the on that chair staring at the computer screen, and then you’ll be even. Hey, there are always single rooms for next year!
(2) Warn your roommates.
This one is especially important for all of us undergrads who live in dorms with impossibly thin walls that sometimes seem to amplify rather than block sounds form the next room. We suggest working out some sort of system with your roomies to politely let them know when you’re holding a private party. For example, in our suite we shout “Fore!” loud enough that everyone knows not to go in the back room for a little while.

(3) Exercise moderation.
There’s a pretty simple rule of thumb for this one: if you’ve ever skipped something to spend more time waxing your giraffe, that’s too much. Get outside and get some fresh air! And while you’re there, don’t forget rule #6.

(4) Two or more shall never “cross-streams.”
If you ever feel the urge to jerk one out with your buddy right by you, don’t cross boner toner. If I understood he movie Ghostbusters correctly, and I’d like to think I did, crossing streams could cause total protonic reversal. That would be bad.

(5) Do not involve unwilling participants.
There are two real reasons why this one makes sense: first, if somebody else is involved, it’s not really masturbation. Also, no means no, Lance.
(6) Never beat it in the street.
There is nothing decent about that exposure unless you’re getting paid for it. Keep indoors or rent a private hotel room for you and rosy palm lips, presidential suite style, and take your time to peel that banana.

(7) Protect
thyself from the white-devil.
OK, folks, so this one’s open for interpretation, but we here at The Slant would like to think this one’s for the Trojan users out there. Rubber it up if you don’t want to clean it up! Plain and simple.

(8) Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy and untainted.
It looks like the G-man decided to keep this one in for reload. You know what this means, put away the MAXIM and lock up your tissues. No squeezing the purple-headed yogurt slinger on Sundays or Saturdays depending on your denomination. Your little guys need some time to rest for the next big race!
(9) Use the hand I have given onto you.
Law of diminishing product in economics states production will diminish as you increase one variable and keep the others constant. Therefore, one hand is always better than two for the optimum choking of your chicken. If you happen to be one of those poor dudes that lost his hands in a freak fishing accident or the Vietnam war, arm rubbing is always allowed – but just one. Good luck with that.
(10) The golden rule.
Remember this: the Lord’s golden rule that is useful throughout life but especially salient here. I quote The Book of Luke, Chapter 23, Verse 4: “And the LORD said ‘Loveth thyself as thou would loveth thyself.’”

Filed Under: Advice, Articles Tagged With: advice, masturbation, sex

Lying: A Family Affair

October 6, 2010 By Caitlin Meyer

Every fall, a weekend clearly marked by an actually winnable football game and a lack of sign-posted fraternity parties, parents flock to our beautiful campus for the pure, unadulterated joy formally known as Family Weekend. Upperclassmen know the drill having lived through the tests and trials of this weekend, but freshmen know not of the challenge they are about to face. Am I still allowed to go out Thursday? How do I explain my hangover? Can I tailgate Saturday? If not, how do I explain this phenomenon? Where do I hide my alcohol? How do I begin to explain my impending Midterm Deficiency Reports?
The answer? Lie. Like a rug, like a dog, like whichever idiomatic phrase floats your boat.
Here are a couple stock explanations for what you shouldn’t have been doing:

>> Piercings – Your science class is conducting a study on puncture wounds, and being the selfless person you are, you volunteered.

>> Alcohol in the dorm room – Instead of running the risk of being roofie’d, you took initiative in your life and decided to be responsible for your own consumption. Such drive and forethought!

>> The Xs on your hands – At an interpretive board game night with your floor this week, featuring hot apple cider and fresh cookies, you physically acted out tic-tac-toe.

>> New spandex wardrobe – You and the girls are teaching an 80’s dance class for underprivileged inner-city children twice a week.

>> Probation letter – Eh, you’re on your own for this one.

>> Tailgating – Dizzy Bat, Cornhole and dancing on elevated surfaces are exercises for essential physical attributes such as balance, coordination and focused vision that are often neglected during the week in the name of academics. As for the Natty, you’re part of a conservation of water movement.

>> Lying – Your parents might have read this article and called you out on it. Convince them with the five components of ethos you learned last month that you are not lying, but testing the bounds of rhetoric and tropes.

The conclusion? Now that you’ve got all of the heavy lifting out of the way, enjoy the weekend. It’s only once a year that you get free Pancake Pantry, Jackson’s cookie dough egg rolls, a re-stocked fridge and some good ol’ lovin.

Filed Under: Advice, Articles Tagged With: advice, family weekend

How to Be Hot

September 30, 2010 By Mark Sakauye

How To Be Hot

The #1 guide according to Reader’s Digest

Before we begin, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “who in the hell is this Mark person, and why is he some sort of expert on hotness all of a sudden?” To answer the former, I’m the dude who’s writing the article, so there’s that. To answer the latter, I am not an expert of any kind, but I will write this guide anyway. After extensive months of research, I discovered several qualities that make one ‘hot’, as the kids are wont to say these days.

Facial Structure

One of these qualities is to have a good facial structure. You can attain this by either having good genes or a knife to the face (plastic surgery). To clearly illustrate my point, I’m going to show you a picture of the type of facial structure you can only dream to have, and then the facial structure that would make the Hunchback of Notre Dame cringe.

Good

Holy shit. Seriously, dudes and dudettes.

You can clearly see that this chick is ridiculously hot. Notice the clear hotness emanating from every pore. As Sir Francis Bacon would say, “bow-chicka-bow-wow.”

Bad

Oh my god I'm about to vomit.

Here you can see this random picture I found of some woman whom I’ve never heard of before, and certainly would never have watched any of her movies if she were to be in any. She is what we in the business would typically call ‘fugly’. If your face looks like that, then you fell down the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. You’re an unholy abomination of nature and should be ashamed of yourself. This is what you should avoid looking like at all costs.

Avoid Looking Ugly

This next quality sounds difficult at first, but once you understand the concept it becomes elementary. Once you start to notice yourself getting a little, for lack of a better term, repulsive, just stop. It’s as simple as that. It takes some practice, but once you get used to it it’s actually quite easy. Again, here are more examples.

Good

Oh Natalie Portman, not even a series of shitty movies can make you unattractive.

Natalie adheres to my guide as if her life depends on it. Her acting career’s life anyway. Each Star Wars movie made her exponentially more plain, but she just stopped. Learn from her ways, and you will go far.

Bad

Sick, dude! Disgusting!

Yuck! Gross!

Studies show that this woman did not stop.

Theory of Relativity

Einstein himself formulated this theory. He postulated that one should always associate with those of a lower hotness level. In doing so, he believed the one with the higher level of hotness would look even hotter. In all tests to date, this theory holds true. Try and be friendly to those eyesores you occasionally look at, and hang out with them on a regular basis. Before you know it, those of the opposite sex (or same, if you’re into that sort of thing) with a higher hotness level will start approaching you. If you don’t know your hotness level, go to any frat; they will be sure inspect you and give you a whole-number rating from 1 to 10.

Good

Heyooooooo!

On the left you can see the woman from figure 1. Amazingly, she looks even hotter. Surely Einstein had this picture in mind when formulating his theory.

Bad

My eyes are bleeding now. Thanks a lot, jerk.

Although labeled as ‘bad’, this picture proves that the Theory of Relativity works on all levels. Mystery Thing on the left is now slightly more tolerable to look at.

Don’t Be A Piggy

You may have heard that the portly ones have “more cushion for the pushin’,” but this assertion remains unproven. Sure, the cushion does allow you to push harder without breaking anything important. After all, there’s nothing worse than a broken pussy! It can happen, trust me. But you’ll find that although the slimmer ones have less ‘cushion’ for said ‘pushin’, they are far more durable, flexible, and tire less easily. This problem, however, can be easily fixed in a couple different ways. The first method is to just stop eating for days at a time if necessary. I heard a bunch of people in Ethiopia did it, and that country still exists (I think) so it must have turned out fine for them. The second method is to induce vomiting after eating by picturing the mystery woman from panel B of figures 1, 2, and 3. These two are the most effective ways I know of, so there probably aren’t any others.

Good

Mmmm baby!

See how you can faintly see the ribcage? Yeah, that’s the ticket. Starving yourself is what cool people do, and you want to be cool, right?

Bad

ICKY ICKY ICKY

If you find yourself in this situation, it will require extensive work to get to sexy bitch status. Although at this point, it is probably an impossible task.

Half/Full Nude Pictures

The last but most important quality of hotness is parading around either in your underwear or in the nude and taking pictures. To those critics who say this is just pornography, you can shut it. It’s a proven fact that men find women in various levels of undress to be more attractive. To prove my point, here are some examples.

Good

Whooooo!

I think this picture speaks for itself.

Bad

Not even a computer could stand to look at this.

No matter what I tried, this image would just not load. It’s all for the best though, as this likely would have made you claw out your own eyes, and apparently you need those things to see. Who knew?

That about settles it for all the main attributes to being hot. I hope you found this guide helpful! If you have any questions or comments regarding this guide, feel free to email me at i.swear.this.is.a.real.email.address@gmail.com

Filed Under: Advice, Articles Tagged With: advice, social life

How to be a bad parent: An insider’s guide on how to make your kid a delinquent

February 27, 2010 By Rudy Wu

Recently, I’ve seen a lot of books out there giving advice to adults on how to be a good parent and how to raise your kids to become good citizens. I say screw all of that. Who would you rather your son be – Screech Powers or Tupac Shakur? Would you rather your son grow up to play a pansy’s sport like Polo or Golf, or would you rather him be a bonafide NFL-bound thug? Think about it. With that said, I’m here to provide some advice to the REAL parents out there – the parents who provide us with entertaining characters such as Donte “drunk driving is more fun than sober driving” Stallworth, Michael “Clifford the big red dog scared me” Vick, and, last, but CERTAINLY not least, Lindsay “Man Coke is AWESOME and girls are too!” Lohan.

1. Beat your kids.

Seriously, if you beat your kids, they’ll hate you. 95% of kids’ problems stem from the resentment that they have against their parents. They do drugs and have random sex because they use those acts as an outlet for the anger they have towards their parents. Let’s keep that up, bad parents of the world. Beat your kids. Teach them that YOU’RE the boss. Next time he says “But daddy, I want another ice cream!” don’t say yes or no…hell, don’t even respond. Just punch him in the face and teach him a lesson that you do NOT mess with the man. Bonus points for crying, double bonus points if you beat them for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

2. What you don’t know…only hurts them, not you.

If you’re not around, your kids can do whatever they want. Kids who are given way too much freedom tend to misbehave. We wouldn’t have excellent role models such as Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian if parents didn’t give their kids a bit more leeway. So just let them do whatever they want. Ignore them. Hell, skip their birthday parties, and just go out and party it up. Shoot up on smack if you want, just leave your kids alone. And if you give your kids too much freedom and they still behave, refer to step number 1 up there.

3. Traumatize them.

You gotta mess up their minds, man. Not just make them feel bad, or resent you, you have to raise them to have a view of the world that doesn’t fall in line with common human understanding. I’m talking about something so big that they’ll never be able to recover from. You might be thinking “so…do I starve them, or something?” While that MIGHT work, that’s just being cheap. If you want your kids to turn out right, you gotta spend the extra money. I’m talking about things such as hiring R. Kelly or Michael Jackson (cross out Michael Jackson) or Kobe Bryant to babysit them, or giving them crack as a cold remedy. Something to really screw up what’s going on up in their heads.

4. And lastly, you have to fight fire with fire.

Some people think the key to parenting is to be nice and understanding to your kids. Not a chance. The true way to be a parent is to dish out twice as much as you get. Screw that, make it ten times. Punishment is proven to be effective in helping kids learn. If your kid whines about not having enough food, feed him a plate of nuts and bolts from ACE Hardware. If your kid doesn’t do well in school, act like you’re so dumb that you don’t understand what he/she is saying, and then he/she will cry. If your kid wants a video game, you respond by ignoring your kid and playing Modern Warfare 2 for the next six hours. The world is your oyster.

Just be creative. If you want your kid to contribute to society like Pacman Jones, you have to raise them with a bit of flair. The set of instructions above is guaranteed to give them a push in the right direction. Pretty soon, your kid will end up in some sort of detention facility, and that’s when you’ll know you’re on your way to being a parent of a loved member of society like Tiger Woods.

Plus, you wouldn’t want your kid to grow up to be some sissy doctor or lawyer or engineer, would you? Then follow the steps above, and in no time you’ll find yourself rolling in the money. Best of luck to you all, and I hope to see your kids in jail soon!

Filed Under: Advice, Articles Tagged With: advice, babies

“Don’t be that guy!”

February 8, 2010 By Justin Barisich

So I was working out at the gym the other evening when the King of the Douche Bags graced us with his presence. Now don’t get me wrong, there are generally loads of piss-ant douche bags at the gym who like to like strut around like little peacocks playing the “who has the biggest dick now?” game with their amounts of pounds lifted.

My work out buddy and I aren’t allowed to play this game, as we can’t compete with some of those douche-dudes who can lift more than quadruple my body weight with their nose-wiggle muscles. However, I am happy to finally report that we’re no longer the weakest guys in the gym either, and physically intimidating at least one other person is such a great feeling.

Anyway, the King of the Douche Bags made a stealthy entrance into the free weights section of the gym, readying his regal weights and preparing his bejeweled lifting throne without causing much commotion or demanding any “official entrance trumpet music.” Then, in a sudden fit of rage, he began doing Power Cleans.

Now for all you non-juice-monkeys and non-meatheads out there, a “Power Clean” is an exercise in which the person lifts a massive amount of weight on a bar that is sitting on the floor to the waist level and then to the shoulders/head level, and finally nicely puts it back down on the ground.

You may better recognize this as the lift that those immensely intense-looking Olympic power-lifters do with eyes bulging and neck veins popping like they had just dropped the most colossal shit of their lives. Getting a visual yet? Yeah, that one.

However, the King of the Douche Bags didn’t think he would garner enough attention by simply returning the weights to the floor quietly, so at the zenith of his lift, right around eye-level of his 6-foot-something height, he decided to just let the weights drop. BAM!

Now if this had happened once, it would have been alright. Sometimes, in an attempt to stake their penis-envy claims, the little peacocks try to lift more than they are physically able to, but then their muscles give out and they have to drop the weights. It happens from time to time. Yet, (BAM!) the King (BAM!) of the Douche Bags (BAM!) didn’t drop (BAM!) the weights just once (BAM!), but more like (BAM!) eight times (BAM!) in a row (BAM!). Do you see how annoying that is?

The mid-sized peacocks began to grumble amongst themselves about how the King of the Douche Bags was not obeying the “golden rule” of the gym. Even if he were to have selective common courtesy amnesia, there’s a fucking sign on the wall that literally reads “Don’t be that guy!,” reminding him to put his shit back where he got it from and to not let his weights crash onto the floor.

Being perhaps the fourth smallest guy in the weight room at the time – though only slightly weaker than my work out buddy who kept whispering “hardcore” under his breath with every crash – I had major peacock points to make up, and I saw this as a rare opportunity to quickly climb the gym’s hierarchal ladder. I grabbed the smallest weight I could find – a 2.5lb one – and marched straight to the King of the Douche Bags’ crashing zone. The mid-sized peacocks thought I was a crazy mo’fo’.

Right after he let another one of his lifts drop to the floor (BAM!), I stood squarely in front of him, looked him dead in the eye, raised the 2.5lb weight above my head with both of my hands (like Rafiki did to Simba in The Lion King), and then slammed it to the floor with all my might (baby BAM!). We angrily stared into each others’ eyes for about a full 30 seconds after the crash, which I thought was long enough for him to fully get the point of how I just shamed him by making him realize how much of a d-bag he was being.

The King of the Douche Bags, despite the stupid-looking faces he made while lifting, was, at the least, not as dense at the iron he was pumping, because he got the idea and finally dethroned himself.

The mid-sized peacocks were impressed, and they promised to stop stepping on my feet whenever I would lie down on the bench press seat. I considered this a small victory and was glad to accept it.

Since that evening, I have never seen the King of the Douche Bags ever again, and one may even go so far as to proclaim that his doucheiness has been fully vanquished, but I know that it won’t be long before another hardcore mid-sized peacock tries to claim the throne once more. Until the time when my title is put to the test once again, I shall remain self-knighted as “Justin, Slayer of Doucheiness.”
Granted, it’s not as badass of a title as “Dragonslayer” or “Womanizer,” but hey, I’ll take what I can get.

Filed Under: Articles, Culture Tagged With: advice, rec center

How to Write a Breakup Letter

February 7, 2010 By Charlotte Fraser

Since Adam first gave Eve shit about eating that damned apple, couples have been having their quarrels and issues. Bella thought Jacob wasn’t stalkerish or sparkly enough. Romeo and Juliet had communication issues. Summer just wasn’t that into Tom. While talking to someone in person to call off any kind of relationship is perfectly legitimate, who wants to be around screaming or yelling or crying or, even worse, have the person convince you not to leave? Psh, forget that. Instead, take a few minutes in your room and do the classy thing: write a breakup letter. Sure, there might be a small delay since you have to either get it into their mailbox (which I know every student checks daily) or do the whole sneaky handoff-to-the-roomate deal and sneakily get it on their desk, but no matter, the breakup-ee will find out eventually, and that’s all we’re really concerned about.
1) First and foremost, start with their name. Please, no nicknames, that just gets all sentimental and the last thing you want is to sound any bit remorseful.
2) Give a little padding by saying something you don’t really mean, like they’re beautiful, a great person, a wonderful addition to your life, blabbity blabbity whatever. That makes them feel like they actually had an affect and can thus guarantee them not wanting to talk to you after out of shock that you’d want to end it.
3) Say something along the lines of “While our time together has been wonderful, I think it’s time we see different people.” NEVER use break up. That guarantees a major prank on your dorm room that I know you’d rather not have, not to mention lots of texts and phone calls out of rage and demanding an explanation. Look, you already have one!
4) If you want to be *really* nice and give yourself even more insurance, try to sugar coat why. I fucked your best friend = “I’m not sure I’m able to give you all the attention you deserve.” You’re ugly = “I think we’re drifting apart and I don’t want to change you or hold you back since you’re such a great person.” I fucked your best friend because you’re ugly = “After being with you, I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re just not that compatible for the long term.” You get the drill—basically put all the blame on you to make the other person look perfect (yet another way to lessen the breakup texts later).
5) Whether you want to or not, state that you want to be friends. They’ll never talk to you again, but they’ll feel better knowing you’re at the “just friends” level again.
6) Finally, say that you hope they do okay, and know that you’ll be there for them, and a bunch of cute chick flick sappy shit like that. That’s the final bolster.
Sign your name at the bottom, stick it in an envelope, stamp it if you feel the urge, and you’re set! One relationship down, one ragefest celebration to go.
If you’re totally against sending a letter, the next best thing is a text, although it’ll take longer since you actually have to talk to them. If that just totally isn’t for you, send them an email so they’ll check it later that day.
Good luck writing, and enjoy being single, asshole!

Filed Under: Advice, Articles Tagged With: advice, breakup, letter

Surviving Disaster at Vanderbilt

February 7, 2010 By Zach Wright

Surviving Disaster Vanderbilt Style

By Zach Wright

In the midst of last weeks iPad controversy (extra absorbent iPod; now with wings) you may have noticed the five inches of snow that uncharacteristically fell on Nashville. Besides a few Donner Party-esque incidents where sorority girls ended up eating each other (only to vomit it back up; what a waste), everyone seemed to enjoy the snow. Now, I like watching people slip and fall as much as the next person, but the recent “Death Blizzard of 2010” as its now being called, threw into stark relief how underprepared Vanderbilt’s students are for other potential catastrophes. So while you were frolicking on alumni lawn; your liquor jacket shielding you from the cold (and dignity), I was preparing for other upcoming disasters:

Dinosaur break out; clever girl. If you don’t get that reference, go watch all the “Jurassic Park” movies, expect for the one with William H. Macy. Screw that morose bastard. William, if you are reading this, you still have my garden hose and leaf blower, and I kind of need those back. Thanks. Now, normal weapons won’t work, so if we want to survive we’ll need to incorporate some unorthodox tactics. I suggest sending wave after wave of freshman to attack the reptilian beasts until they are satiated. Then hopefully they will leave us alone, and more housing will be open in the Commons.
Nuclear winter. You think it’s cold now? In this disaster scenario, we’d probably have to barricade ourselves in our dorms to escape the extreme temperatures and radioactive particles. Unfortunately, there is no liquor jacket for radiation. On the bright side, Geiger counters make excellent accessories for you Vandy girls out there. Plus everyone that had classes in “Old Gym” probably has cancer from all the asbestos in there anyway. So go nuts you history of art fans!
Mad Max style death race. Now, you are probably saying, “Zach, I doubt I’ll ever find myself in a death race” to which I’ll respond “we’ll see who’s laughing when I’m chasing you with my battle wagon”. Just something for you haters to think about. I actually believe that Vanderbilt is pretty well prepared for this one. With how affluent Vanderbilt’s population is, many people have cars, some of which aren’t Lexus’s, BMW’s or Audi’s (if you can believe it). On top of that, we already have a fleet of durable, puke and blood stained tanks in the form of Vandy-Vans. Those things have seen more carnage than Michael Vick’s petting zoo. I wouldn’t be too concerned with this scenario. Also, I call dibs on being part of A.J. Ogilvy’s team. I assume that every Australian has been in at least one death race.

So there you have it fellow Commodores. If you ever find yourself in one these situations you should now have an idea of what to do. That being said, if you don’t read this article you will probably die a terrible death. Go Dores!

Filed Under: Advice, Articles Tagged With: advice, snow

Ask Hannah

January 24, 2010 By Richard T McGee

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first ever edition of “Ask Hannah,” The Slant’s brand-new advice column. I’m sure you’ve seen the posters we’ve been putting up all around campus to generate buzz for this column, which will surely revolutionize the advice-giving industry.

As a small child, I spend a large portion of my day reading through various newspapers from around the country. Almost every local paper has its own advice column, except for those lazy bastards who just syndicate “Dear Abby.” But one thing I’ve noticed is that none of these so-called “advisors” have ever had to heroically battle a horrific illness, like I have. This makes no sense to me, as I just don’t see how these people can claim to have the answer to life’s problems when they’ve never really had any problems of their own.

So, this year, I’ve decided to rectify this situation by offering my own guidance and support to anyone who wants it. If you feel that you have any questions that could best be answered by a courageous little girl, please feel free to send them in to askhannah@vanderbilt.edu.

Here are some of my most recent requests for advice.

- Dear Hannah, I’ve got a big problem. I tried to rush for a fraternity here on campus, but I didn’t receive a bid to any that I liked. Now all of my friends are starting to pledge without me, and I’m feeling really left out. What should I do? – Lonely at Vandy

-Dear Lonely, Wow, that does sound like a problem. That must be so difficult for you to not have 24/7 access to your friends for a couple of months. I’ve got to be honest, I don’t really know what to tell you. I guess you could try making time to meet with your friends when they’re not busy pledging, or maybe you could try and make new friends who have more time to hang out. It’ll be difficult, I’m sure. I wish I had some experiences in my own life that could equate the pain you must be going through, but I don’t. So I’ll just wish you the best of luck on your journey.

-Dear Hannah, before I came to school here, I always had my own style and fashion sense, with which I was very comfortable. But now that I’m here, I’m starting to feel out of place because I’m not wearing Ugg boots and North Face jackets all the time. I don’t want to cave in and be part of the crowd, but I don’t feel relaxed in my own clothes anymore. What should I do? — Suffering for Fashion

- Dear Suffering, Huh, that sure is quite a dilemma. I can’t say that I’ve ever had a similar experience, though. As a young child who’s been battling cancer for the majority of her life, I’ve pretty much always fit in everywhere I’ve gone. I guess that you’ll just have to decide for yourself whether it’s better to go with the flow or to retain your individuality. Both sides have their own benefits. The important thing is that you feel comfortable and confident in your clothing. At least I think it is. Personally, I never worried too much about my clothes while I was battling cancer. I guess I was preoccupied by the cancer. Good luck with your fashion issue though…

-Dear Hannah, I’ve got a huge problem to deal with. I broke up with my boyfriend two months ago. We hadn’t talked much until last Friday, when he came up to me at a party and said he wanted to get back together. Last time he cheated on me and stole my credit card, but I think he’s really changed, Hannah, and I want to give him another chance, but my friends say I shouldn’t. What do you think, Hannah? -Second Chances

-Dear Chances, Gee that is quite a dilemma, I mean on the one hand… God Dammit, I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. You people are awful. These aren’t problems! A problem is like when you have tumors in your brain. From now on, before you send me a letter, I want you to really ask yourself, ‘Is this an actual problem, or am I just being a crybaby?’ Here’s an example of a real problem: not enough people have donated their time or money to Dance Marathon. Get your shit together.

Damn whiny-ass Vandy kids.

Filed Under: Advice, Articles Tagged With: advice

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