From the Editor's Desk

My dear readers, there comes a time when we must all rise in solidarity and quit the very important satire magazines we write for. For me, your anti-editor, the time is now. Yes, I do lead this publication, and yes I make all executive decisions, but I still admit that the Kumquat is a horribly run magazine. So, in solidarity with our poor oppressed unpaid staff writers, I will be permanently leaving the publication for my next opportunity as a whore for the WGA. That’s right, I’m becoming a full-time picket liner. I even brainstormed ideas for cool signs like “WGA strongER” and “AI Can’t Write Fart Jokes.” 

As I look to my future on the picket lines, I hope to impart you all with the wisdom of a politically vague advocate for a cause(generic). Stand Up For What Is Right. And Don’t Trust The Media At Chapman, even The Kumquat. Fight The Power, even if you don’t really know who the power is. Just guess and then start yelling. 

In solidarity, 

Your Anti-Editor

From the Editor's Desk

Dear readers, 

It has come time for me to say my final skwunk-utations. I will soon have to give this publication a sweet and sensual kiss goodbye as I enter my new, post-grad life as a CIA operative. That information is classified, but I’m telling you because I trust you. Also because I know that only 3 people read the editor’s letter: me, my mom, and our graphic designer whom we keep handcuffed to the radiator so they definitely won’t tell. 

I will now answer one last ‘Dear Skwunk’:

Dear Skwunk, 

Where do you see yourself in 5 years? Also, did you have anything to do with that 2017 money laundering scheme in Mississippi, or was that a different Skwunk?

Great question. In 5 years, I see myself embroiled in controversy amidst the 2028 Presidential election. I’ll prepare you now that my past will get raked up. I am by no means a perfect person, but that would make me a perfect President. Had nothing to do with the 2012 money laundering scheme, but I’m sure my time in the CIA will be a point of contention. I promise, if elected, I will fix ALL water fountains and implement ‘Ice Cream Sandwich Friday’. Don’t forget to vote for me! #skwunk2028

See you then, pussy cats! Skwunk you later!

Love, 

Skwunk

From the Editor's Desk

Hey you silly little Panthers! Hope you all had a delicious little spring break and that you remembered to call your mom, eat your veggies, text your ex, scrub behind your ears, etc. Healthy stuff. Can you believe we have one month left? Especially to all you COVID babies and COVID-sophomores-turned-super-seniors. One month and then you all can go back to Cabo or Ohio or chill in your overpriced apartment for the summer, building up your collection of City of Orange parking tickets. Whatever you’re up to, know the Kumquat is here for you. And I’m your sultry new little editorette here to uphold our tradition of spreading fake news and to the entire Chapman community. Check us out on chapmankumquat.org and or on insta since we finally got un-shadowbanned for saying “pussy” in an issue (Women’s month win!)

Okay bye, love you!

XOXO

Your HBIC and editor-in-chief, Ms. Information (“Missy” for short) ;)

From the Editor's Desk

Alright, I’d like to get one thing straight right off the bat. Despite the rumors, I, Skwunk, do not have any association with George Santos, nor do I look like, sound like, or am George Santos. Now that that’s cleared up and out of the way, let’s get right into the Dear Skwunk question for this month:

@majorbaggage asks: Dear Skwunk, tote bag vs. backpack for the new year?

I have to be honest and say that I think you’re asking the wrong question here. Tote bags and backpacks are OUT. OUT and LAME. The new tote is “just a garbage bag”. Hefty brand, preferably. I also think it’d be smart to invest in a roller backpack before Bella Hadid gets papped rolling one around in her underwear and mini Uggs. I’d also urge you to consider why you’re even asking this. Are you having to carry a lot these days? Maybe get checked for scoliosis. I was recently diagnosed with “Skwunk-iosis”, which is where my spine actually is made of a non-newtonian fluid, similar to your common slime or Oobleck. Doctors are working on a solution, but if you don’t hear from me, just know it’s probably spread. 

LYLAS (Love you like a Skwunk!)

From the Editor's Desk.

Bahhh humbug. As the anti editor, I sat in passive resistance to the holiday season, audibly going “urghhhhuhhhhhhbooooo” whenever I saw anything red or green for the last three months.

Butttttt…. as the big(but non hierarchical) boss around town who no one believes is real, I think me and Saint Nicholas have a few things in common. He gives out presents to kids all around the world, and I’m a communist(probably? need to read up on it). He drives a sleigh powered by christmas magic(environmentally friendly), I drive a prius. 

Historically, there have been two camps of thought when it comes to Santa Clause, usually divided between children and adults. This December, I choose to PROUDLY align myself with the third camp: adults who believe for exclusively contrarian reasons that Santa Claus is real. Even though he’s never stopped by my house, this year I wrote him a really nice(anti-mean) letter and got him Crumbl cookies, so I’m sure I’ll report back on December 26 with good news.

12/26 Update: No presents this year from Mr. Clause, BUT I did find a bunch of coal in my backyard yesterday morning so that’s pretty sick. Maybe next year he’ll give me the vibrator I asked for.

From the Editor's Desk

Seasons greetings pussy cats!

Sometimes, around the holidays, I feel like an outcast. A black Skwunk of the family. I don’t like tossing anything, especially the “pigskin” with my fugly cousin Jarod, and my grandma thinks I am a no-good floozy. I especially hate it when I have to sit and watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with my crazy uncle Gravy, who loudly barks and growls every time the Garfield float appears on screen. To put it plainly, I had a lot of time to think during this Skwunks-giving break and decided that I could answer a few questions sent in from readers, such as yourself. 

This question is from @naughtygirl55 on Instagram. “Dear Skwunk, I’ve been thinking a lot about the fragility of life lately. What do you think happens after death?”

Well, @naughtygirl55, I hope that heaven is like being tucked into bed, but the blankets are made of ferrets who tickle you with their toes. Hell is probably just like being one of the people holding onto the Garfield float in the Thanksgiving Day parade while my crazy uncle Gravy bites your ankles for all eternity. Anyways, ttyl. 

Smooshies my pooshies, 

Baron Von Skwunk

From the Editor's Desk

BOOO!!! 

Did I scare you? It’s me, the anti-editor. I know, it’s been a while since you heard from me. I’m an aloof kid, figuring it all out one day at a time. I took a long break to travel the world. I went to the furthest coasts (newport) and the highest mountains (laguna) to try and find myself and figure out exactly what I wanted to take a stand against. 

After years on the road, I’ve decided I am anti-cars that smell like the cheese stick wrappers from when I ate those eight cheese sticks two hours ago. I don’t know where I’m going with this.

OH! one fun secret staff update: I almost got “coup d’etat”-ed (violently overthrown). Apparently it’s hard to have a leader who “does not like anything, including this job (unpaid) and the other writers (stupid).” I got out of it by threatening to post my nudes on the Instagram (ugly).

From the Editor's Desk

Wazzup dear readers!!

Skwunk here. Hope your summer was finger-lickin’ good. Mine sure was. Not in a sex way, though. I wish I could tell you all about my summer, but unfortunately, legally speaking, I am not allowed. Let’s just say hypothetically Skwunk spent some time in Europa, along with every college-aged man and woman in America, was recruited as a spy for the CIA, and helped bust a huge drug trafficking network in Ibitha. Besides that, I’ve just been bummin’ it around Orange. I’ve picked up a new hobby, actually. Every morning at 8am, I set up my lawn chair and smoke a cigar with those guys outside of Starbucks. Just as good as meditating. 

Freshman? Hello? Can you hear me? I’ve got some advice for you! First meal, you gotta walk up to the biggest guy in the Caf and sucker punch him right in the face. Kick him in the nutz for good measure. That is the only way to gain any respect around here. 

Ok, skwunk ya later. Luvs ya!!!

Xoxo, 

Dr. Skwunk DDS

A Final Editorette's Letter

Hello virgins and nerds, 

The time has come for me to say my final little goodbye, which I know will be heartbreaking for all of my adoring fans. Shockingly, they are letting me graduate even though I am the most beautiful person who goes here and school rankings in terms of it girl factor will drop drastically once I depart. 

Here is the thing and I am going to be genuine here—I need to thank you all for reading our work each month, you have made this the best part of college for me  (I will admit when I love when people come up to me in the bars and ask if I am editor bc celeb alert!)  Thank you for letting me write actual insane, often overly sexual, rambles that are often extremely pointed at the people I know or at administration. Thank you to the entire Kumquat team for dealing with me, we have the best little writer’s room that has been so much more accepting than a lot of the really male dominated rooms I’ve been in where I was told I wasn’t enough. Thank you to the founders for trusting me with this job :)

That is all from me, smooch smooch uggos! 

Xoxo, 

Hot Girl Editor

From the Editor's Desk

There’s been some changes at the Kumquat HQ. The editors are always the hottest girls, the baddest boys, or the most malest feminists. Well, feel free to begrudgingly accept me as a new editor, an ANTI-EDITOR. Last week, I was sitting in my anti-room thinking about how the voices at the kumquat are a little too “pro.” I think it’s all the kumquat klout going to the editors' heads… so I’m here to provide some ridiculously hot takes to keep them grounded. First of all, I’m anti-writing. Second of all, I’m anti- anti- writing. Third of all, I’m currently writing. Now if you’re getting confused, listen to this. I’m anti-confusion. 

This month, a freak joined me in the writer’s room… I'm the anti-editor, so I’m even more anti TWO editors, but here she is.

Hi I’m Skwunk. I saw an ad on Craigslist that the Kumquat was looking for a cool, new editor, and boy do I love Craigslist. One thing led to another, I stole the hearts of the entire staff with my charm and distinct-yet-pleasant odor… and here I am. I felt that the whole, “blank-blank” editor thing was getting pretty tired, so I decided to use my legal name. Skwunk. It’s like how Cher only goes by her first name, but my parents actually named me just Skwunk. I’m a little mischievous. I did recently steal the Margaret Thatcher bust from campus and replaced it with a replica, so please PLEASE don’t tell Psafe. Snitches get Skwunked. (you DON’T wanna find out what that means).

From the Editor's Desk

Hello, 

It’s been 30 years since we last spoke. You may remember me as Bad Boy Editor, but that's a title I haven't heard in a long time. I did the thing. I chose life. I gave up all my vices, I gave up motorcycles and monster trucks, brewskis and juuling. I got my life on track. I got a good job, a large automobile, a beautiful wife.. A couple of kids. So why don’t I feel satisfied? Why am I not content? What’s missing? I’ll tell you what's missing: the fucking rush. The adrenaline pumping through my veins when I take a baseball bat to a mailbox out the window of my Chevy Volt, the euphoria that comes with pissing on every lawn in the district. Fuck my job, fuck my wife, fuck my kids. I’m back bitches. I’m back like I’ve never been before. Happy fucking March, this is Bad Boy Editor, signing off.

From the Editor's Desk

Ok….it’s valentine’s season…I know you are all expecting my literally flawless relationship/dating/sex advice. But you know what, I have decided I am not saying anything.  You guys don’t pay me for this. You don’t send me chocolates and flowers and say “Hot Girl Editor, thank you soooo much for convincing me it’s ok to cheat” or “Hot Girl Editor, I fucked my professor just like you said and now I have an A”. You don’t say ANY of that. I’m DONE. GONE. You know that movie Gone Girl? That’s about me. 

Also I’m going to become celibate I just decided. No one is allowed in here. Fuck you guys for not appreciating me but not literally fuck you guys because I am not doing that anymore. I am a nun now. None of you care about me or listen or ask me anything about myself because if you did you would actually see that deep down I’m a Charlotte and not a Samantha. 

Good luck with your love bullshit without me. None of you will ever smooch or smash or bang or boink ever again. 

Xoxo, 

Hot Girl Editor

Editor's Letter

Hey, bad boy editor here. After fleeing Orange County (multiple warrants out for my “arrest”) I’ve had a lot of time to reflect and think on my actions and lifestyle. Maybe I shouldn’t have driven my dirt bike through Memorial Lawn. Maybe I shouldn’t have smoked a blunt in Jerry Price’s office in AF after hours. Maybe I shouldn’t have shat in Beckman 203. I don’t know. Everything I once knew feels wrong. Maybe I’m... no longer a bad boy... Maybe I’m just... Boy Editor? I don’t know if I can handle that though. Who am I without my leather jacket and wallet chain? Maybe it’s time to reinvent myself, to create an editor persona that allows me to live a full life, make friends, fall in love even. Meet a nice girl editor and settle down, have a little editor family with an editor picket fence and little editor dog that barks through the editor screen door. I have much to think about. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy our issue.

Editorette's Letter

Ok ok ok, I know I’m drunk right now but please please just give me a cigarette…just one little cigarette. I am the Carrie Bradshaw of this fucking school, please. I will smoke it in an Alexa Chung, Kate Moss way not a townie way I promise. I just need to hold one so bad–HOLD ONE FOR A PICTURE–will not even smoke it all the way. Will take one little puff and it won’t be gross or give me an addiction it will be fashionable and very New York of me. Did you see House of Gucci? They smoked cigarettes in that. 

So now you’re telling me that you went to the bathroom of The D, you fully saw a guy selling loose cigarettes, and you didn’t get me one. You saw me wearing this leather blazer and my curtain bangs and you said ‘I don’t know if this girl would look cool smoking a cigarette…” You are a traitor. You are not listening to women right now, you are simply hearing them. I will kill you. 

Best, 

Hot Girl Editor 

Editor's Letter

Hey let me crash at your house for thanksgiving. Bad Boy Editor here, after being expelled from Chapman for pissing too many times on the dean's lawn (sorry I was drunk if anything it's a compliment) I have needed a place to stay and BAD. Don’t worry though I’m totally good for it. I’ll make it up to you by like taking out the trash and buying you cigarettes and shit. All I needs a place to park my badass motorcycle, a pack of sunflower seeds/spit bottle and a couch cushion to rest my greasy head on-I’m happy. And don't worry parents love me, (especially moms;) well until they catch me going through their medicine cabinets: speaking of which you should really let me know of any and all prescriptions your parents are taking cause my doctors get really naggy with me about “mixing pills” it’s a whole thing dude. Listen let me just run and grab my Whip-it! rig and I can move in whenever. Oh and don’t ask me about paying rent man, I really don’t believe in that kind of thing.

Editor's Letter

Dear fans and admirers, 

I like to take little walks (Phoebe Bridgers playing, slight breeze going, you get it) and on many of these little walks recently men have been EXCEPTIONALLY disgusting to me. Getting followed, yelled at, and opening my little Chapman email to be told about the other scary things that seem to be all around our campus right now more than I’ve experienced in college before. 

People have been gross at such an increased rate that I started to think it was my fault (alarming because we all know that hot girl editor is beautiful, amazing, flawless, and a narcissist). That I should change the way I dress, talk, or act because I was the source of my own anxiety and harassment. But I told my therapist this and she was like….BABE….you did not bring this on to yourself!!!

And girlies, that’s all I wanted to tell you. A lot of my friends who I have anonymously talked to feel similarly and with Halloweekend coming up I just wanted to check in…say hey ;)…and remind u to stay safe and have an amazing time dressed in whatever the fuck you want.

Xoxo, 

Hot Girl Editor

Editor's Letter

Welcome back girlies!  With my senior year beginning, I have been given the opportunity to reflect on some of my own Orientation Week experiences and be a shining light of guidance, beauty, and mystery for our new freshman readers. 

1. Do not fuck your OL. Just because they are older than you and seem cool because you literally have not met anyone else older than you does not mean you should do this. 

2. One O week, I made out with a FIJI while walking past Jerry Price’s house half naked and that is the most school spirit I have ever committed to. Take from that what you will. 

3. Puke on at least one guy who you think wants to hook up with you. This is a great way to figure out what his attachment style is. 

4. Make sure your Uber account is not linked to your parent’s credit card in any way. They will ask too many questions. They did not immigrate for you to whore around. 

5. Wait now that I am thinking about it...maybe DO fuck your OL. Make yourself dominant in the group dynamic. 

Xoxo, 

 Your editors in chief but very specifically Hot Girl Editor you are dumb if you think Bad Boy editor wrote this

Interterm Issue Editor's Letter

Okay so there’s an elephant in the room...why were we (the editors of The Kumquat) not invited to Joe Biden’s inauguration? After we wrote that stuff pre-election where we were like ‘vote for Joe Biden or else ’? And you literally did. This is so fucked up. 

We know that we said we wanted to speak at commencement (and we still do) but like, we basically elected Joe Biden by writing like one and a half articles about him so it is rude that he did not invite us to the inauguration, let alone bar us from speaking. Is he afraid? Is he intimidated by both our grasp on joke structure and our vocal fan base? He was probably scared of our presence since we have a history of being angsty towards White Men Who Are In Charge. Biden’s got a lot of skeletons in his closet, and by closet we mean very out in the open and can be easily Google searched, which we encourage you to do because it’s important that we don’t forget about fighting against disenfranchisement and marginalization, just because we now have a Democrat as President. All we can do is encourage you to continue to put energy towards making our country a better place and look forward to the day where WE are inaugurated (hot girl editor will be President and male feminist editor will be VP because #girlboss duh) 

Xoxo, 

The Editors

Editors Letter

We, The Kumquat Editors, are looking for love in the time of COVID. The only thing getting in our way is that we’re afraid!! Not because of commitment or past trauma, but because some people aren’t wearing masks or are still going to parties. We get it, we want to go to parties too. We would die to go to a party (not literally because then we would just… go to a party) This is a rough time which makes us want to get absolutely plastered like no other point in our lives thus far. However, please! Like just take things seriously for like a month or two! We’ve been in quarantine for like nine months now, which means we could have been secretly pregnant this entire time and you guys wouldn’t even know because we are too scared to leave the house like a NORMAL person. We just want you to know that we’re all in this together and when this all ends (hopefully), we will drink something very strong and have a smooch. But until then, wear a mask, social distance, limit your travel, and get tested (for STDs too so that after the aforementioned smooch we can boink)

xoxo, 

The Kumquat

LETTER FROM THE EDITORS

We know you usually read our little publication for jokes about Struppa and sorority girls. We agree that given our track record we’re probably not qualified to influence your vote. And yet here we are...influencing your vote. For once, we are being serious: Please vote. And by that we mean vote for Joe Biden. As we hope you’ve noticed, we are NOT about that non-partisan bullshit over here at The Kumquat. We don’t really like Joe that much either, but given the extreme rate at which our country is deteriorating, we’re afraid of what another four years of tr*mp could look like. 

If we find out you didn’t vote, boom, we will never hook up with you and we’re really hot and a little slutty so that’s a HUGE loss for you. Imagine never being able to tell your friends you hooked up with the absolute 10s that write for The Kumquat all because you fucked up like that. What else could possibly make you want to vote for Biden? Oh yeah, just basic human rights for people of color, immigrants, women, LGBTQ+ people, those who need healthcare, etc. Let’s do our best to make sure the world doesn’t burn so we can have kids who will someday go to therapy because of us. 

Xoxo, 

The Kumquat