"Omg I'm Not In Dodge Haha everyone Keeps Asking Me That!" Says Girl For The 47th Time This Week

The Kumquat overheard local indie/alt cosplayer Christine MacPherson open her hogger in Beckman Starbucks talking about how everyone tells her that she gives off “dodge vibes.” That she, a boring little Biology major, is constantly mistaken as someone that attends and is enrolled in courses at Dodge College of Film and Media Arts. “No like, I really don’t know what it is!” She said between laughs, “everyone just thinks I’m like some film girlie it’s so funny I love that for me.”

Stomping around campus in her godforsaken. main-character-wardrobe-esential Doc Martens and iced coffee in hand (from Contra because indie, obvi), Christine MacPherson does, however, carry the cloud of intense insecurity that looms over all Dodge students. Good for her!

The Kumquat learned that Christine’s over-compensation goes beyond just being a Dodge girl in theory: “She wrote one short story in her ‘Writing about Comedy’ class freshman year and tells people she has experience dabbling in screenwriting,” a former classmate told us, “Shit wasn’t even funny but no one in Dodge is so that works for her.”

Absolute Chump Actually Bought The Textbook

Ignorant fool Michael Daly recently purchased the textbook for political Science 408– “Religious Fundamentalism, Pluralism, and the Demand for Tolerance.” The Junior laughingstock noted to a classmate that he spent $49.99 on the textbook and $8.99 on the optional reading book. “He’s either swimming in money or just the biggest clown in human history,” one student, Joe Renner, said. “Does he know that it’s available online for free?" He also didn’t cheat during the entirety of Covid. What a fucking idiot!” So true, Joe, so true.

Worse yet, Daly doesn’t seem to notice his own stupidity. “The professor told us we were going to need it,” he said. “So I bought it.” This embarrassing faux-pas is only exacerbated by the fact that quizzes and tests are based solely on PowerPoints and don’t reference the textbook at all. “Yeah, he’s a real Grade-A sucker,” the professor said. “Dumb as a box of rocks. He’s also the only asshat who comes to office hours. I hate him.” As Daly shows no sign of recognizing his misfortune, students are advised not to intervene but look unto him with pity and carry on.

Couple Caught Having Sex Outside Fish Interfaith Center

On the afternoon of Monday, February 14th, Samantha Hanley and Mark Thompson were caught canoodling in that little pathway behind the Fish Interfaith Center. Well, not “canoodling” – Thompson was really going at it from behind while Hanley had herself pressed up against an abstract, brass fountain.

P-Safe uncovered the couple after a call from students inside the chapel who feared that the animalistic and guttural noises echoing through the walls was a sign of the Second Coming. “I thought I was literally going to be swarmed by locusts or something,” said Sophomore Kailey Williams. “But then what we found was people fucking.”

Administration says they plan to discipline the two by forcing them to attend DKA rush events, which Struppa himself had deemed as “completely sexless.” When asked if they regretted their choice to loudly and publicly fornicate, Thompson immediately said, “Oh my god, yeah. It was awesome, like it was so good, it was good for you right?” To which Hanley replied, “sure.”

Pizza Press Guilty of “Pulling a Willy Wonka”

Last week, five lucky students were shocked to find golden pepperonis on their custom, thin crust pies, forcing them to compete for the position of CEO of Pizza Press. However, their luck soon turned sour when it became clear that Pizza Press was doing nothing more than maiming the contestants. 

One student reported from the hospital that he had shattered every single tooth after being tempted by a mountain of especially crunchy crusts. Another was shrunk to the size of a basil leaf, drowned in a bowl of marinara, and promptly eaten by Dean Jerry Price, who stated last week, “Pizza Press has always supported Chapman students, and their newest endeavor will encourage the entrepreneurial spirit we admire as a university!” 

The students families are preparing a lawsuit against the restaurant, citing the injuries of three students, death of one contestant, and charges that their pizza “is kind of mid.” However, Pizza Press is still celebrating their victor, a Latina woman AND business major, as a win in the male-dominated industry. She is reportedly “relieved” to be alive, and committed to making the next competition “female-led.”

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

4 Dead 7 Wounded in Canvas video assignment disaster

Unfortunately for Señora Hendriks’ Spanish 102 class, The New York Times recently released an article on how to engage zillennial students in class. But because Chapman tuition supplies Capitol-from-the-Hunger-Games-level indulgences and not professors’ salaries, the pay-wall was up before Señora Hendriks could read any advice other than “Assign your students a video project”.

Fatalities across the (discussion) board occurred in rapid succession, mass panic ensuing as students raced the clock at 11:46 PM to bastardize the Spanish language. “I was scared,” reports Ella Wetzler ‘25, a roommate to one of the hapless students. “I woke up to Bri in the corner of the room, mumbling to her laptop with this crazed look in her eye and singing this Spanish nursery rhyme with the most horrific grammar I’ve ever heard.” Bri miraculously survived this encounter, unlike her fellow classmates, whose autopsy reveals that they “died from embarrassment”. She, along with 12 other students, are in critical condition and receiving care at the Chapman Student Health Center, where they are being given a complimentary sucker and treated with swabs.

Small Business Spotlight: Pike's Fake Vaccine Cards!!

OMG! Did someone say “Boy-Bosses”?! Let’s hear it for these small town fellas, from Newport Beach, California, who turned nothing into SOMETHING with their dedication to the grind. CEO Tristan Harris sat down with KQ’s resident Business Bitch to tell their uplifting story. “I was sitting on my couch one day after a little too many Bud Light Seltzers,” Harris shared with a chuckle, “when my friend was like ‘I don’t know, I don’t trust what’s in the vaccine’ as he hit his Puff Bar. And I was like, hold on, I’m having a creative vision.” These Bro-trepreneurs got to work. First, they produced fake vaccine cards, but then they expanded the business with a new product– their own vaccine, a concoction of beer, a dash of coke, and those gas station boner pills. Now that clinical trials have shown their vaccine is 100% effective against every disease ever, this Business Bitch is on her way to get her booster at the Pike house next to Arco!

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.

Open Letter From the Street

Dear Kumquat,

It’s me. The street. Glassell is my name, but I doubt any of you even care. I guess you’ve probably heard… my roadblocks were removed. Some say, “new year, new me.” Well I say, Boo year. Boo me. Oh, did you start your 2022 by catching Omicron? Awwww!!!! Poor you. Imagine starting 2022 by getting your face run over by hundreds of cars, over and over and over again. If you had to lay down on my surface and experience the purgatory that is having car after car drive over you without a care… you would be up in arms. Unfortunately, I don’t have arms to be up in. I can handle being stepped on by your tiny little human feet. The whole outdoor dining thing, I thought, really classed up the place, very European. But, now that’s in the past. I’m gonna miss the Laurenly van. I’m gonna misstate drunken middle aged women stumbling out of Citrus City Grille. But now, I’m back to being pummeled by those disgusting machines. I just hope that the next time you drive on me, you will finally hear my screams.

G.

New "School of Staunch Discipline" Elicits Controversy

This interterm, students had a chance to attend classes at Chapman University’s controversial new School of Staunch Discipline and Unfun Things Such as Boring Poetry. Courses include such topics as floor mopping, picket fence painting, dunce cap wearing, getting slapped on the knuckle with a yardstick, and so on.

Faculty at the new school have defended their teaching. With regard to his heavily criticized course “Avoidance of Joy: How to Lament the Past and Detest the Present,” Professor Ebenezer Scrooge stated that “Universities today suffer from a serious miscreant problem that must be thwarted.” However, the school already finds itself in dire straits for a staff termination policy that critics describe as cruel after Evil Robert Frost, PhD, was fired from the school’s poetry department for bringing students hard candies during finals week.

Food Left in Fridge Over Interterm Now Alive

While junior Matthew Doucheface enjoyed his vacation in Cabo like a douche, the leftover food in his fridge sprouted legs and became sentient. Gary, the garbage food-man made of onions, chunky peach yogurt, and ground turkey, recently enrolled at Chapman to pursue degrees in Peace Studies and Political Science. When he isn’t taking his Interterm class, Garby devotes his free time towards building low-income housing and starting a community garden. He has also eaten several students (mostly women). Garby hopes to one day become an educator and continue to give back to his community. “I want to do my part in making the world a better place. We’re all in this together,” he said. As of the writing of this article, the number of missing students climbed to 86, and– wait, make that 87– Stephen Galloway’s dog has gone missing. Gary also has aspirations of running for student government. “I have some good ideas that might make this campus a better place for all. I also have an insatiable appetite for humans and blood sacrifice. I will not stop devouring undergrads until I am rid of this primal thirst.” When asked for comment, Matthew Doucheface was killed in a separated, unrelated Cabo drowning.

Oh my god... this feels SO GOOD!!

You feel the crisp cold air tickle your forehead as you approach the old church on Sycamore Avenue. There’s a line of people waiting. You step behind them. You tap your foot, crack your knuckles, anxiously anticipating what’s to come. Time passes so slowly. The butterflies seem to flutter around more and more as you fantasize about last time when they told you they might call in 15…they never did.

Finally, you’ve made it inside. The sweet smell of old wood penetrates the air. You walk over to the desk to swipe your card. The floor lets out a small moan with each step you take. You fill out the paper as fast as you can. It doesn’t feel fast enough. But before you know it, you’re in the black plastic fold out chair. There are people around but they fade into the background. The time has come.

You pull down your mask slightly, revealing your blushed cheeks. The swab inches closer and closer to your nostril. Your breaths get shallower and shallower until finally, something happens. The swab, the beautiful, pearly white, ethereal, gentle piece of plastic has entered your face. You stop breathing for a moment. It’s inside you. And just as quickly as it started, it’s over. You get up from the chair and the entire world feels hazy. For the next two hours, you relish that feeling. As if the swab is still with you. Still in you. Until next time.

Wait, Sororities Don't Just Have, like, Little Sign-Up Sheets?

Uhhhh, I’m kinda confused here. All the girls in Henley are talking about what dress they’re gonna wear for “Values Day” and how sad they’re gonna be if they don’t “get into” Delta Gamma. And they keep saying “recruitment.” Am I being bamboozled here? Everything they’re saying sounds like a lotta work, and I was just gonna go ahead and put my name down on, like, the mailing list for Alpha Phi… Honestly, they need me more than I need them. I’d be doing them a goddamn favor by signing up for their sorority.

They have way too many cool, hot girls in that organization. They NEED a crazy freakazoid to come spice things up, whether they know it or not. They need me to ruin the fucking vibe at Semi-Formal. They need me to do an upsetting, inhuman worm dance move on the stage at Skit. They need me to go to Heaven and Hell and steal the wallets out of the brothers’ pockets like a feisty little rascal. If I don’t, who will? Sororities, I’m not coming to your “rush” “events",” but you will be hearing from me, future sisters.

Student – Not Undercover PSAFE Officer – Looking for Drug Dealer

Wanted: New drug dealer. Need ASAP. Preferably BIPOC (no particular reason). Must think ‘Euphoria’ is pussy shit. That you? Hey buddy, I am a huge pothead (he/they) and in the market for some new ganja, and am putting this ad out there to get as many hash-slingers inside Hashing as possible this Saturday. So I can meet all of you, nothing weird. I am 19.

Don’t worry about PSAFE. They are NOT coming. Actually, those PSAFE guys and one girl are really chill once you get to know them, but like I’d never tattletale on you. Or bring a brigade of PSAFE officers to the top of Jim Miller. Is that where you guys do the weed? Sick. Again, I am 19. if you want to be my new dealer please email me at letsdoweed@chapman.edu.