June 2010 Archives

Avatar Adventure

That One Time I Went to See Avatar
by Rubin Quarcoopome

Pt. 1: Avatar

Over Christmas Break, I went to see Avatar, James Cameron's stupid, loud, blue adaptation of Pocahantas. I didn't really like it, and about halfway through I couldn't help but think, "Damn, shoulda seen Sherlock Holmes instead." When the credits rolled, several people clapped, something that utterly baffled me. They liked it that much? Really? On the drive home, I went through several post-Avatar phases: mild respect for how pretty it was, slight arousal, annoyance, irritance, itchy testicles, upset stomach, and general diarrheic anger.

"Fuck James Cameron," I muttered. "He owes me my ten dollars! If I can't rewind time, I'll certainly get money instead!"

I turned the car around sharply and began driving west, to Hollywood.

Meijer Balls

I don't care what age you are, where you're from, what ethnicity you are, or even what your Body Mass Index is, everybody loves bouncy balls.  And a few months ago, I got my hands on one of the soccer ball sized motherfuckers from Meijer.  It is easily one of my favorite things in my apartment.  I think everyone should get one of these balls, this is a picture of it.
View image


This ball won't tell you to clean up the pizza sauce because it's attracting too many fruit flies.  It won't complain that you're not spending enough time with it.  It won't try and tell you that the Human Caterpillar is a movie worth seeing.  And the Meijer ball doesn't mind being thrown against the wall over and over again.  Hell, as far as I know the ball loves it.

It may not have as much spunk as a toy helicopter, or as much moxie as hoop and a stick, or even as much valor as that rock I drew on with a crayon, but my God is it magnificent.  You've never seen anything bounce until you've seen this fucker in action.

If you don't have a Meijer ball, I pity you.  If you have more than one, I envy you.  But if you are like me and have one, wonderful Meijer ball, then God dammit do I respect you.

Do yourself a favor.  Drive to the nearest Meijer and meander around the aisles until you spot that large, caged thing with the balls in it.  But when it comes time to select the ball, don't just pick one all Will Nilly.  You have to choose each other.  There's a Meijer ball for each and ever one of us, and once you find yours, your life will never be the same.

It's Wednesday in Hawaii!!

Hey kids!

I hope you're summer's going well.

What? Not enough Garg posts?

Well, I mean, that's kind of greedy. You've had a steady flow of them for a while... but more??

Okay, okay. You win. This very Hawaiian Wednesday marks the dawn of a new day. Not just beacause it's dawn here in Michigan (on Thursday, in the Hawaiian future!!) but beacause it is a small part of a renewed commitment to YOU our blog readers...reader.

SO CHECK IT OUT!

Also, check out this breakdancing caterpillar!

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Maybe later.

 

 

Punday Monday - June 21, 2010

The baby was up in arms about getting set down.

Shoe heel is an oxymoron.

Q: Why hasn't anyone ever seen a jackalope?
A: Jack's never tell their families ahead of time

The Gargoyle Reccomends: Websites

The Gargoyle, a highly sophisticated publication, draws inspiration from other highly sophisticated sources--most of which, are amusing websites. Much like hard drugs (or hard rock), links listed below are rather delightful and have a high potential for addiction, enjoy!

1.) http://www.oreillymaker.com/

For those of you unfamiliar with O'Reilly Books, they are guides to computer programming languages. The cover of each book follows the same basic formula, regardless of how boring or esoteric the contents of the book may be. This website allows you, the layperson, to create your own cover, with whichever inane title you desire and the animal of your choice! Some examples of the fun you can have can be found here and here.
The following piece was contributed by Lia Wolok, PhD student, friend of the Gargoyle, and all-around wonderful person.

Twitlight

Chad checked himself over in the mirror; his $70, ultra-fitted flannel shirt looked appropriately tousled.

The setup was perfect: his West Quad roommate would be gone all weekend getting his wisdom teeth pulled. While Paul was home secretly watching a Princess Diaries double feature (over and over again due to his Vicodin-induced stupor), the trite Pink Floyd posters in this very room would bear witness to the realization of a new level of intimacy in Chad's relationship. Honesty, love, union-- His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Amanda sauntered in, the very vision of his deepest desires. Underneath her marshmallow-shaped Northface jacket, she wore leggings (gold) as if they were pants and an ill-fitting, low-cut shirt (purple) from American Apparel. Chad was intoxicated by her heady scent and all-too-aware of the tender heart beating beneath her fully-displayed bosom. The two clung to each other for a moment, and then stepped apart. Chad watched as blood flushed her fair cheeks.

"I want to talk to you about something," Chad explained nervously.

The Logo Exercise

In an effort in increase awareness around campus, the Gargoyle has considered adopting a new logo for some time. Ideally, the logo should be striking, yet simple; bold, but accessible; it should be something that one might find oneself doodling during class. As part of a creative exercise the Gargoyle staffers (artists and writers alike) were asked to come up with new logos for the magazine. These abominations are the result of that mistake:

logo01  - billy.png
Wow, Billy, this is... Terrible. Really, it's just absolutely awful. It looks like it was made by chimp with Down's Syndrome.

Peter's Raccoon Adventure

by Peter Eldred, Age 14:

So, the other day Stu and I got high with Jacob and were walking down South U toward State, because we'd been to Panchero's. I had a steak quesadilla. It could have been better, to be honest. On South U, though, we watched a raccoon baby and a raccoon mother (I assume they were related) poke their heads out of the sewer grate on the side of the street. They live in the sewer. That's not even sad for a raccoon. That's a fucking nice pad. Lots of trash to eat, I'll bet. Anyway, we saw these raccoons. It was pretty fucking cute. I would like to see that again, I think. Except in the rain. God, that would be cinematic. That's getting close to baby seal proportions. Yeah. Really cute. That's all.
raccoon.jpgAnd We Will Call Him Tibbles.


For most men, the first step towards sexual congress is attracting a woman.  Make sure to wear a University of Michigan t-shirt.  This serves as a reminder that you do in fact attend the University of Michigan.  Sweatpants give you a chance to accentuate your male sexual organ or, "flesh pendulum," as it is called in the medical world.  Like a peacock attracts its mate, your shoes must be colorful and distracting.  It is essential to differentiate yourself from other males if you want a chance to experience the wonderful non-reproductive parts of sexual intercourse.

continental-congress.jpg                                      Pictured: Not Sexual Congress                                    

Your masculine mystique lies in your unpredictability.  Without it, you're nothing more than that kid with the unrelenting sex drive.   Let them know you're ready for anything.  Literally, anything.  If you spot a "target", as I like to call them, stare into their eyes intensely until you have a chance to approach them.  Once you get close enough to start conversation, you say something like:

"I'm ready for anything.  Literally, anything."

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Gargoyle Magazine readers utilize moving companies and moving services at the end of each semester to help move personal belongings to and from school.