By, Icky Vicky
The one question that tormented my adolescent mind was this: Why does Spider-Man only fight crime in New York City? Like, what is so great about this place? After reaching adulthood, I have finally reached an answer. Spider-man doesn’t exclusively fight crime in New York City because it is a great place. He fights there because it is a literal shithole that needs to contract a specialist to help them get their shit together.
New York fucking sucks. It is a terrible city that lays bare all of humanities faults and ugliness. You walk into Penn Station and realize it is a literal Labyrinth. I swear, I was waiting for The Goblin King himself to pop up and twirl his balls around his hands in front of me, every turn I took. It smells like shit and I swear, if you use those bathrooms, you will contract something!
If you find your way outside, you’ll be hit by blinding light, even if it’s nighttime! Those goddamn street lights sear into your retina’s, living you blinded for the inevitable attacks by the beggars, tourists, and the cops. Good luck trying to find your way around as well. Constant blowing of horns and dingy subways.
You might be thinking, “Hey Vicky, you are only talking about Manhattan, there are other boroughs you know.” Well they also suck. Brooklyn is has a terrible case of the gentrification- I swear every other dilapidated building has a froyo shop in between. Queens is discount suburbia- JUST MOVE OUT OF NEW YORK IF YOU DON’T WANNA BE IN A CITY. Staten Island is a literal trash island because that’s all of see of it across the pond from my beautiful, New Jersey town. And The Bronx is disgusting because that is where I was born- how dare you subject the world to this filth you have begotten you ass of a borough.
I DO NOT HEART NEW YORK- put that on a dumb t-shirt!
By A Selfish Fuck
This is Rutgers, we rarely get breaks. This is the one and only chance for me to get some of that R&R. This whole semester has been one binge-drinking bender that has taken a lot out of me. A man can only drink so much spiked lemonade at OB’s happy hour. The deforestation of the Amazon has not gone through as much greenery as I have with the amount of bowls I’ve smoked. Also, there is classes and studying, but honestly I think I’m good on that regard. I’m more worried about being awake for four days straight on pure, industrial grade cocaine. I’m starting to see Mother Mary come to me- and it isn’t in a lovey dovey, Paul McCartney way. My brain cells have evaporated within my skull this whole time and it’s time for them to trickle back down. I absolutely needed this detox week- filled with the necessary uppers and downers, of course- so that I can become a person again. Unfortunately, my family will not provide me the respite I deserve.
As soon as I come home, Uncle Zach just starts moaning and groaning about his his brain tumor. Like, we get it, you are feeling pain on a daily basis, so can you please be quiet as I binge this Flat Earth documentary. Now is the only time I can watch my shows and not have the deep seated dread in my unconscious due to all the assignments I am putting off. Yeah, I know I would of watched it before break anyways, it is the principle alright.
But no, I have to hear the rantings and ravings of my Mother and Father going at their fifteenth consecutive argument for the night. Who cares about who let the dog get a heatstroke in the car when they went shopping, I sure don’t! You marriage is failing and you might as well get a divorce and argue over the phone, far away from me.
Ah dear sister, who also on break, you pretend to be an ally but you are just a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Stop fucking asking me how all these questions about your boyfriend, unexpected pregnancies, and how much abortions costs. These random questions that have nothing in common are just irritating you goddamn asshole.
Unfortunately, all the drama never ends and break is over. Please get your shit together fam, I’m off to have another drug fueled bender which may put me in a state penitentiary.
If you’re an avid internet user that has been around the annals of the webosphere over the past 10-20 years you likely have come into contact with, and not necessarily in a positive way, the term “furry”. A furry is someone that is attracted to anthropomorphic(human-like) animals and may engage in dressing up as such an animal at conventions, during inter-course, and sometimes in everyday life. While there is a sexual component, many individuals view the furry lifestyle as more of an identity than anything else. They by and large find zoophilia abhorrent, donate to animal rights causes, and prop of the economy through expensive fursuit and custom-porn purchases.
On the internet, furries receive a disproportionate amount of hate for how harmless they truly are. If you have a proclivity for the edgier side of cyber-space then you might end up on 4chan or some of the darker sides of Facebook and Reddit, there you will find a vast volume of pictures, memes, and stories all dedicated to talking about how gross and bizarre furries are. These pages often relish in their often right leaning views and their anti-politically correct statements, which might as well be code for being mean because you think it’s funny. There has always been people hating on Furries; people don’t like things they don’t understand, and many don’t understand dressing up in animal costumes and yiffing(whatever that means). But why is furry-hate so popular in alt-right communities?
Many people with right leanings hold very individualistic world-views and do not like the idea of government(or anyone else) telling them what to do. However, when it comes to people expressing their own individual rights and respecting those people’s right to get their yiff on, they lash out in some ugly ways. In 2014 there was a terror attack on a furry convention in the midwest, 19 people were hospitalized. On 4chan in particular, they decided to poke fun and laugh at what they viewed as an acceptable hate crime. This reaction is not uncommon when violence is done against other groups they do not like whether it be leftists or feminists. If these actions looks a little Fascisty to you, you’re not the only one. Suddenly it seems individual rights only apply to right leaning white males, and conformity is now the name of the game. I ask you dear reader which is more gross? Some fascist internet edgelord getting off on violence against people they don’t understand, or someone who gets off to consensual sex in a furry costume? I’ll let you be the judge.
By Zachary Fox
I know, I know, Batman’s beautiful schmeckle appeared in the Batman: Damned’s first issue which came out months ago, but when I first found out his godly stick of power graced the pages of the comic book I wasn’t ready, I needed to do more research. I needed to feel it in my heart and when that day would come I would be ready. People tried to show it to me, but I refused to see it, not till it was time.
My research started where all comic book readers start when it comes to looking at superhero genitalia, with one of the greatest comic book cocks of all time, Dr. Manhattan. Because Dr. Manhattan is basically a god he no longer feels the insecurities that come along with nudity so his thick schlub graces the pages of Watchmen frequently. I spent hours staring at multiple images of Dr. Manhattan’s penis and months of other superhero digletts including the small glimpses of Deadpools schlong in 2016’s Deadpool film.
It was March 2nd and I was finally ready. Sadly there were limited versions of the uncensored version of Batman: Damned issue #1 and I had to pay $300, but by God it was worth it. As I flipped through the pages that unforgettable saturday night, I grew more and more excited for the image to grace my eyes. It was once I reached page 30 that I realized I was witnessing something that I could never have possibly dreamed of. If I told my 8 year old self he would one day get to see Batman’s mightiest weapon he’d never believe me. I stared at that page for about 15 hours and tears ran down my face the entire time. I don’t recall blinking, just the image that has enlightened me and changed my life forever.
By: Dick Veiney
There is nothing worse in this world than pre-planning your schedule to maximize the most amount of time you can in bed and then the bathroom break happens. It goes like this: you plan to take a bus at this time because that’s the latest you can push it off to and not be so late for your class that the TA has already taken the attendance sheet away. The bus pulls up, you hop on, you arrive on time, right? Wrong. Because it just so happens, like seemingly every single bus you get on, the bus driver has decided to take their bathroom break: the bathroom break that takes about 15 minutes and 20 years off your life. That’s why I propose that Rutgers bus drivers should have mandatory catheters. Think about all the time saved! The efficiency! It’s even good for the environment because less bathroom breaks means less toilet water flushed. Think of it as Rutgers being more inclusive as well. Someone whose dream of driving the big ol B bus being held back by incontinence? Not anymore! Rutgers bus drivers can now drive non-stop for however many hours a day just so I can get to class on time instead of me simply budgeting a little more lee-way into my schedule.
By, Curio B. Exual
It is simple, why don’t we have hot, barrel chested, bleach blonde, scrumptious booty boys to do the whole walking around the ring between rounds and the weigh-in fiascos. Okay, they don’t have to be blonde, but everything else still stands.
Alright, let’s get the boring one out of the way. The overt sexism is pervasive in all fighting sports. Ring girls exemplify antiquated notions of fighting sports that have existed forever. Yadda yadda objectifying women, yadda yadda enforcing gender norms, yadda yadda hypocrisy of having women fighters and ring-girls yadda yadda. We all know of this and how it’s bad and like OMG Karen you don’t have to shove your Women’s Study papers down my throat. Now to the fun part, THEM HUNKY BOOTY BOYS!
I want these fucks to be 6 foot tall and ripped in places I didn’t even know existed. Fighters are too scary and look weird with all their bruises and giant egos. I want a soft, sensual, sultry man walking around with those stupid cards. He has to be loaded in the following categories: funk, junk, and the trunk. I don’t care if men are the target audience. You’ll finally get women and the rest of the sexual spectrum will finally give damn about your barbaric, ego-driven, testosterone-ridden idea of a sport.
By: Richard Hertz
Over the past few weeks there has been a lot of negative internet hullabaloo surrounding the new Aladdin reboot coming out; quite frankly, I could not be any more pumped for the new flick. Whether it be the obvious cynical cash grab nature of retelling a beloved animated classic or Will Smith’s smug stupid face shittily CGIed onto a buff genie, I live for this shit. I am a masochist, and there’s few greater pains than seeing your childhood so willingly exploited for the sake of capital gain.
There are few companies that hurt just that right amount that Disney, and it’s sadist shareholders, does. Mine can’t be the only peepee that gets hard whenever I see a new assault on things I once held dear. Growing up I had to have watched Aladdin over a dozen times, it was one of my favorite movies; Robin Williams’ portrayal was iconic and some of the music and imagery still sticks with me to this day. It is this very investment in intellectual property that makes my current orgasms so godman powerful, it’s basically long-term edging. I mean like what other possible reason would there be to basically just movie magic Smith onto a muscular body, other than to give pain addicts like me some prime-tier fetish material.