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Grandma Sally, Please Let Me Bring My Embarrassing Boyfriend Home For Thanksgiving 

Grandma, I hope this WhatsApp message finds you well. 

This Thanksgiving, I’m officially in a loving relationship with my perfect Pike pookie, Zeke Goobley. We’re finally going steady this semester after a 14-month-long situationship which culminated in me threatening to drown myself in the dorm pool. 

We’re always spending quality college time together, ripping carts in his moldy garage and fighting about when he should hard launch me on his Instagram story. When we go on dates (that I plan, because Google Calendar is difficult to operate for him), he always takes me to the oozingly romantic Subway Cafe. God, he’s SUCH a feminist, he always makes sure I pay for our meals. 

Grandma Sally, I know you’re all into reading Vogue now, but come on, having a loving man in your life is not embarrassing! I know Grandpa occasionally soils himself and forgets your birthday every year, but Zeke is different. Zeke promises to contribute to your beautiful Thanksgiving spread. He said he’d fly his keg out for us if you let him slide through! He’ll be extra careful to make sure all the little cousins get upside down on that thang safely. 

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Come On! Let's put the Geno-aside! Chapman Gets Hip Hop on Gaza

In a youth effort move, Chapman has put out what they call a “lit ass statement on g-g-g-aza” to ease student demands to divest funds from Israel, hoping to appeal to what they call the “soul-funk brothers and sisters on campus”.

“Ayo! Time out! SJP this, genocide that; can’t a punk lovin’ “gangsta” have a p-p-peace of mind? We at Chapman hear you crispity clear about how we give phat band to Israel, the promised land, freest mothafuckin’ country in the middle of the fuckin’ east, but sorry Ms. Jackson, we ain’t divesting whack! Did you know Tupac’s from Israel? Uh-huh, Now that’s hot! Did you also know Hamas banned “chilling with your homies at the crib”? Whaaat? Whatchu talkin about Willis!”

In an attempt to be with “it”, Chapman then detailed other pressing issues on-campus that students should focus on. “How about we all protest about some real “rap” shit, yo! Too many nonsense characters causing trouble for our MCs over at p-p-public safety, all because they’re not strapped! Give them guns, man, we’re at war! How about all the ‘fugees and immigrants coming from all over the globe, and stealing your tuition doe! That ain’t hip hop, That’s an invasion! So how about all the boys and girlies unite and keep it Cali in here, cus they not like us! Pussy eating parlow, OUT.

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My Rocky Journey as a Serial Killer at Chapman

As a boy, I always knew I wanted to kill people. Other kids on the playground would play tag or “Cowboys and Indians,” while I spent my time killing people. Yup, when other kids were learning science, I was murdering people with a knife and gun!

When Chapman offered me the Ted Bundy Scholarship for Promising Young Killers, I thought this would be a fantastic opportunity for me as a first-generation murderer, pursuing a real dream of murdering full-time. Hell, maybe one day I could even get a cool name like “Zodiac Killer” or “President of the United States”.

But did Chapman deliver? Hardly. Where do I start? Well, for one, the John Wayne Gacy School of Excellent Execution is severely underfunded, and you can’t branch out. What if I wanna change lanes, get dirty with it – Dahmer style? Or what if I wanna be the hero in the story and kill only bad guys, like Policemen or essential workers?

It doesn’t just end there, my friends. Not only am I a murderer, but I am also deeply racist, and I find it ridiculous that there are zero people of color that I can murder on campus. Chapman, I petition you: Do better. Serial Killers exist. We matter.

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The Parking Lot Games: Catching Rainfall

Welcome Welcome Welcome… to the Parking Lot Games, where the odds are never in your favor! Please note; your “free” parking passes will be no help to you, now that the rain has come.

“I lost three toes last week fighting off a Jeep for a spot,” says Brian Thomas, Peace Studies ‘25. “The bright side is I qualify for an ADA placard, which means I don’t have to wake up at 6 am and check the weather anymore.”

As Lastinger begins to flood, it's survival of the fittest. The District 1 & 2 tributes with the ability to comfortably ask “are you leaving?” cruise effortlessly into prime spaces on the first level while the rest are left to stumble through the asphalt jungle, avoiding eye contact, and contemplating if just crashing their car would be better than being late for the fifth time this week. 

“I’m so fucking scared,” confesses sophomore Emma Wetzler, “I can’t tell if some random guy in his Ford Escape is following me for my parking spot or if I’m about to be the next episode of 60-Minutes. My roommate keeps telling me to buy an umbrella and walk, but like, who does that?”

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Pete the Panther Stole My Boyfriend

My (19F) boyfriend (21M) was talking about how he was hanging out with some guy named Pete (?M) over interterm.

My (19F) boyfriend (21M) was talking about how he was hanging out with some guy named Pete (?M) over interterm. I figured it was just one of his “Beta Buddies,”as he calls them. But soon enough, our texts became dry, our facetime calls were short, and worst of all, he ended our 127 day snap streak. I knew something was up. So I left my humble, five story, Los Altos mansion driving at a whopping 15 miles an hour all the way down the I-5 to Orange. I burst through his door to find not a boy, but a panther named Pete, getting the Beta Theta Pi till I Beta Theta Die special from the man I once loved. At first, I was heartbroken, but now, I am glad to have not one, but two new GBFs to watch Saltburn (2023) with and get our nails done (or paws, for that matter).

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I love chapman!!!!!

nothing to see here! o_o

hey mom, 

i know my therapiSt called you about transferring from chapman but I wAnted to write about how much i loVe chapman!!! evEryone here is so unique and people here love to do really interesting stuff like resell their ugly clothes from goodwill for $450 at the chapman flea market (so cheap!) and since i already befriended the other seven poc, i’ve been Making friends with the colored hair pEople (those who make up most of the dIversity at chapman). they are so open! all they talk about is how much they hate Non-white people, but they said i’m different! i love chapman, the lack of rain or sEasons in gEneral, and the $450 parking ticket i got the other day (they pay so much attention to my car!) i can definitely say now that my Depression is not seasonal!! so happy i can find that out at chapman, the place i love. don’t worry about HELPing me get out of this amazing place. i love it!  

love you girl. 

P.S. can you send me $900?

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Undie Run in the Woke Age

This is the Undie Run in 2050.

Picture this: hundreds of sweaty college students packed into Memorial Landfill like bacteria in a petri dish. Bodies like ice cream, hairless and feeble, melt in the blistering heat. The sound of the nuclear alarm cues them into motion. Slowly, they chug their way from the statue of former President Pete Buttigieg to Harry Raftus Hall. Except for the oxygen mask suctioned to their jowls and the Meta headset implanted into their temples– they are completely naked. This is the Undie Run in 2050. But how did we get here?

It all started with the installation of the pick-up window at the campus Starbucks. The heightened sales resulted in the increased dissemination of BPA plastics into the broader Chapman community. These BPA plastics turned typically extremely masculine and freethinking Chapman students into smooth, beta-like consumers. Coomers, if you will. Then, after global temperatures supposedly tripled due to “climate change” in 2045, (the jury’s still out on that), the woke mob outlawed ALL CLOTHES.

So, Chapman University students of 2023, instead of undie run, why not try Fully Clothed Run? Enjoy your dignity while you can.

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New Years Resolution: I'm done with attention

2024 I’m swearing off attention. I don’t even want it. No, I don’t. I’m done with it. So please. Don’t text me.

2024 I’m swearing off attention. I don’t even want it. No, I don’t. I’m done with it. So please. Don’t text me. Don’t call me on the phone and leave me a long winded voicemail telling me you miss me and you want to go on a long walk together and spend the year twiddling each others thumbs and playing with each other's hair. Don’t! Because I’m done with attention, and I definitely know what I want. But… is your New Year's Resolution to be obsessed with me? Because I would really really hate that… I really really want you to hurt my feelings. I mean don’t. Because I’m done with attention! This is the year of doing what is best for me. I mean it!

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Misunderstood Emotional Support Animal Goes Bananas

“Mr. Bananas will treat them as family.”

“Mr. Bananas has a kind and gentle heart,” says Chapman Grand resident, Katy Bishop, owner of the 476-pound male silverback gorilla who brutalized two of her roommates the week before break. “He’s an ESA, you know.” 

Indeed, Mr. Bananas was verified as an ESA after Katy sent a two-sentence email to Chapman using a forged psychologist's note. She even bought a cute ESA vest off of Amazon for him (before he tore it to shreds using the second strongest mammalian bite force in the animal kingdom). Katy insists that being an ESA makes him well-trained, and that besides screeching at his own reflection, throwing feces at people, and establishing territorial domination over the living room, Mr. Bananas has been a good monkey for the entire semester. 

Therefore, Katy firmly believes that when her roommates return from the hospital in the Spring, they can continue to coexist with the giant primate that Chapman legally has to accommodate. “As long as they remember to bare their backs and show submissiveness every time they enter his territory,” says Katy, “Mr. Bananas will treat them as family.”

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Chapman Republicans Holiday Debate Topic Submission: Why Michelle Obama is Actually Just a Life-Size Cake.

Is Michelle Obama a human or is she made of cake? 

There’s a common debate among patriotic, well-intentioned Americans regarding a conspiracy that Michelle Obama is actually a man named Michael. This is utter nonsense that insults our intelligence and totally misrepresents our values. 

Now, let’s get into the real questions we should be asking: is Michelle Obama a human or is she made of cake? 

Consider literally any picture of her. Look at it. She’s not moving. You tell me with 100% certainty that that is not just an extremely well crafted, artisan made, state of the art baked good. A wax figure, if you may, but composed of cake instead. 

Michelle Obama made a huge deal out of people doing an hour of exercise a day to stay healthy. You thought you were being sneaky, huh, Michelle. That is exactly what a cake, which is typically unhealthy, would advocate for in order to throw people off its sweet, sweet trail. 

Look, we can all have our perspectives on it. You think she’s a man, I think she’s cake. Ultimately, guys, it’s 2023. We already know all the libs in Congress are all lizard-people anyways. Why is it so hard to believe Miss Obama is made of cake, too?

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Freshmen returning from break face existential crisis

As Thanksgiving break comes to a close and students return, this year's freshmen come home with sunken eyes and all new forms of depression.

As Thanksgiving break comes to a close and students return, this year's freshmen come home with sunken eyes and all new forms of depression.

After visiting family in Arizona, one Britta Blively came home to her childhood bedroom occupied by a trio of Flemish tourists, whom her parents (now “old and gross”) rented out as a bed and breakfast. Hoping for some normalcy, Britta decided to meet her long distance girlfriend Glennifer, local party fiend, at their favorite restaurant. Arriving on the scene, it was boarded up and shuttered, and Glennifer was held up at a late accounting lecture.

After a few days of awkward meetups with friends who “don’t even know Pete from Pike or who Dodge is,” Britta returned to Chapman with a stomach full of turkey and a heart full of melancholy.

“I wonder if perhaps it is just that our hometowns have changed, and our family that grew up in our absence,” she theorized.

And reader, she’s right. The alternative scares me. I will never grow old. I am going to live forever. I will never change and never die.

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Students Reflect on Very Confusing Green Lights on Campus

From November 6-12, multiple buildings on campus were majestically bathed by neon green light.

From November 6-12, multiple buildings on campus were majestically bathed by neon green light. This unusual event prompted widespread confusion and countless theories from students that don’t read Chapman Notifications emails (everyone). Different theories included:

  • Great Gatsby reference (English lit students)

  • Lorde reference (gay students)

  • Environmental Science students were tricked into thinking their degree was being recognized as important for once. That one’s definitely wrong.

  • I thought about Baby Yoda, but I always think about Baby Yoda

  • Beta thought it was St. Patrick’s day and some unpaid pledges made Canva invites for throwing “Slutty Green Party” at Firehouse

  • Two shuttle drivers thought the green lights meant “Go” and drove all over Memorial Lawn

  • Christmas?

The lights were meant to celebrate veterans despite most veterans on campus having no idea what they were for. Some were, however, reminded of the night-vision they used in combat and promptly relived some of the darkest moments of their lives. Way to go, Chapman. Way. To. Go.

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“My Weird Younger Cousins Are Now Weird Adults”

Someone’s going to have to take over being the weird AND gay cousin!

I used to be excited about outgrowing the kid’s table, until my weird younger cousins also outgrew the kid’s table.

There’s Ray, who used to make “gravy volcanoes” with his mashed potatoes. Now, he’s a brand ambassador for WeedMaps and explaining what the difference between a joint, a spliff, and a blunt is to my uncle.

There’s Johnny, who could never wait to eat until after grace was said. Now, Johnny insists on saying grace himself, adding that Earth is six thousand years old and that he’s grateful for Ron Desantis’ commitment to banning the word g*y.

And who could forget sweet Adaline, who’d sing “The Turkey Song” with Grandpa?  Now, Adaline flaunts a very successful DePop, which she used to sell the last of Grandpa’s possessions after he passed away last spring. 

All this leads me to wonder if I’ve changed since these people last saw me. Well, no! The truth is, I’ve remained the same pure soul since birth, never budging on my morals. I still prefer diapers over underwear, breast milk as my drink of choice, and I’m a proud thumb sucker till I die.

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Chapman Scooter User Unsure How to Ruin People’s Days During Thanksgiving Break

Perhaps the saddest story of this break comes from George, a junior communications major who “has a lot going on” and is struggling to adapt to life without his giant motorized scooter.

Perhaps the saddest story of this break comes from George, a junior communications major who “has a lot going on” and is struggling to adapt to life without his giant motorized scooter. George admits “I really was only trying to hit people, that’s the only reason anyone gets a motorized scooter. We want to hit pedestrians and then act like it’s not our fault.” 

George has been without his scooter ever since it didn’t qualify as an ESA Animal and was detained by airport security. “Without my scooter, I had no way to assert myself as the single biggest asshole on the flight; I reclined my seat all the way back, but any jerk can do that. I used to be special!”

Returning home, things didn’t improve much. George found himself unsure as to how to make people’s days significantly worse.“I tried getting behind the wheel, I even hit a few people, but it’s just not the same. The intimacy of slamming into an unsuspecting pedestrian’s achilles tendon is unmatched.” George plans to be the “judge, jury, and executioner” when he returns to campus, promising that “My scooter will be my blade.”

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Peace Studies Major to Skip Thanksgiving This Year

Aiden McMahon, Peace Studies ‘24  decided to skip the horrors of it all and “pass” on Thanksgiving.

When faced with being the family punching bag this Thanksgiving for uncles with harrowing takes on immigration, Aiden McMahon, Peace Studies ‘24  decided to skip the horrors of it all and “pass” on today. “Hard pass,” McMahon clarified. “You could not pay me.”

This comes as a disappointment to his fiscally conservative, socially liberal cousin Maggie, who was looking forward to debating “Should people without a bachelor’s degree be able to vote?” with him and Aunt Sarah, who was hoping to enter the ring with her belief that books written by gay people should be banned from every school.

McMahon instead opted to stay at the airport this break and pretend that his flight from John Wayne got perpetually canceled. “Instead of having to talk about the humanitarian crisis in Gaza with my dad, I can just send a selfie of me sitting at my gate everyday in the family group chat with the caption ‘ughhhh canceled again :(,’” he said while eating his 11th Carl’s Jr. Beyond Burger this week. 

We commend McMahon for his avoidance of difficult but necessary conversations about current international tragedies and making everything about himself instead. The true spirit of Thanksgiving!

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Two Brown Girls Walk Into a Halloween Party

Last Halloween, Annika had just entered her friend's annual (always boring) Halloween party in her sexy pizza costume.

Last Halloween, Annika had just entered her friend's annual (always boring) Halloween party in her sexy pizza costume. She saw her friends laughing with some blonde-white bitch dressed as a space cowboy. ‘Who the fuck?’ Annika thought as she approached them.

“Oh My Gee, hey girlie! It’s so funny to see you again!” the white girl said, giving her a big hug. Annika pulled away and responded,  “Um, sorry, I don’t know who you are.” The white girl batted her eyelashes. “Girl, what do you mean? I met you an hour ago at this party! Your name is…”

At that exact moment, Annika linked eyes with the only other brown person at Chapman, Raveena, in her SpongeBob costume. The white girl shrieked, “....Raven! Like the weird bird or something, I fucking hate ravens, though.”

Annika felt goosebumps and realized the white girl was one of those mask racists that wears a shit ton of evil eyes and henna on her hands, whose face card presents ‘woke’ but actually is ‘RARA white power.’ She will—as long as she’s alive—never pronounce a brown person's name right. 

“That’s not me, and her name is Raveena.”  

“Ohhhh…sorry, it’s a pretty crazy name though, so who are you again?”

Annika had to explain to all her friends how this situation was racist. 

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Local Frat Darty Overrun by Slobbering Reptilian Gremlins, Literally No One Notices

Party on! This new breed of mean green frat bros are here and taking Chapman by storm.

Party on! This new breed of mean green frat bros are here and taking Chapman by storm. New frat chapter, Nekro Omicron, burst onto the scene with a raging darty this weekend that has everyone talking.

“I mean, yeah, they’ve had some allegations. Spiking drinks, harassing girls, eating faces… but what frat hasn’t, amiright?” said one eager partygoer. “What counts is that they have good drinks, good music, and I think Garthax over there is kinda cute. It’s at least better than Fiji last week.”

A group of these critters surrounded the kegs and punch and started trying to drown each other. Other partiers who were doused by the raging imps were warned to steer clear of Bluuk the Firebreather, whose latest hookup was admitted to the Providence St. Joseph Hospital burn ward later that night.

“Grahahagghrrhgh, hragh hreaeah mmmmm jungle juice hunga bunga!” claims Grosmylx, the president of Nekro Omicron. “Hwaaarrrgh, gwahaha!!”

Tragically, the gremlins are facing possible probation for eating a couple of freshmen boys trying to sneak in. But here’s hoping they get appealed, because the people have spoken: Nekro Omicron is here to stay!

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Heartbreaking: Another Sad Boyfriend Dragged into a Barbie-Ken Couple’s Costume

Feminism W!

Feminism W! There are countless Barbie and Kens at every Halloween party this year. 

One couple at Heaven and Hell, Dixie (26’) and Bobo (25’), dressed up as the sexy cowboy versions of the characters. “Ever since I was a little girl, people told me I was really hot,” Dixie said. “And this is definitely the hottest girl costume this year.”  Bobo weighed in: “Ken’s fine I guess…” 

Clearly these feminist icons reflect the film’s unapologetic commentary about how the patriarchy affects both men and women. When asked about his thoughts on feminism, Bobo shared: “I love women… Ask my bitch.” This is exactly what Greta wanted!

However, as the party died down, Bobo was sad. “I look like every guy here. I just wanted to be a Power Ranger, but she didn’t let me.” After a nearly incoherent discussion, Bobo excitedly changed into his Blue Ranger costume while Dixie gained the confidence to be a hot girl without a Ken. “I guess I am ‘Kenough’!” said Dixie with a laugh. “Go, go, Rower Pangers” slurred Bobo. Looks like they learned something from the film after all!

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How I Got Kicked out of Beta for "Casting Spells and Summoning Spirits"

Twas Hallows Eve.

Twas Hallows Eve. I went to Spirit Halloween and purchased a "Promiscuous Witch” costume. The party started at 9:00pm, so I arrived at precisely 11:27 pm. I stumbled into the Firehouse as the lukewarm Tito’s from a plastic water bottle slammed into my liver. 

I wobbled onto the slimy dance floor and began to wave my shitty plastic wand to the beat of “I Just Want to Rock”. Somehow, the rhythmic swaying of my wand had summoned the spirit of the rapper, Lil Uzi. At first, the crowd screamed in delight, believing that the real Lil Uzi had graced us with their presence. As the drunkards realized Lil Uzi’s lack of material form, the crowd began to scream in horror. 

I frantically waved my wand once again, and his spirit dissipated into the frat mist. As the wasted Beta pledges angrily approached me, I desperately snapped my wand at them, and turned them all into tiny little frogs. Long story short, I am not permitted within 1000 feet of any Beta Residence.

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“Friend” Returning From Study Abroad Clearly Imposter Wearing Skin Suit

Uh actually, when I studied abroad……..

“Roger O’Morris”, ‘25, returned 2 months late from his study-abroad trip in Italy, but his roommate Alison Brightly, ‘25, noticed when she picked him up from SNA that something was off. Specifically, she noticed that Roger’s skin was off. In other words, she noticed that a mystery man was wearing Roger’s disembodied skin as a disguise.

The imposter’s intentions are currently unknown. “The other day I’m eating hummus with some pita or whatever, right?” Alison recounted, “and this imposter guy comes up to me and goes, ‘can I get a bite of those tapas?’ in this really gravelly voice. I don’t respond because I’m terrified, then he goes, ‘oh, sorry, ‘tapas’ is what we call snacks in Italy.’ Does he not know tapas are Spanish? Who does he think he’s fooling? Why won’t anyone help me?!”

When asked to comment, “Roger” just stared at us. His breathing was heavy. He didn’t blink. “He doesn’t like outsiders,” Alison explained.

If you would like to look for Roger yourself, applications are open for Study Abroad 2024!

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