First Day of School Manifestations

I just found out my roommate manifests. She says it works so well she made her ex get into a car accident. She told me to speak in the present and address the powerful Universe’s great life plan for me so… here it goes. 

I am going to have a class crush. I am going to have someone to look cute for. I am going to act disinterested and mysterious when they start chatting with me in class. I am going to stalk their Spotify and memorize their liked songs. I am going to go home and find their parents' current occupations (I have LinkedIn Premium.) I am going to secretly put a microphone in their backpack and listen to them breathe. I am going to convert to their religion. I am going to carve their name into every wall in my bedroom. I am going to make them socially isolated so they can turn to me and me only. No friends. No family. Just me, the love of their life. 

I know the only reason I am doing this is because my class crush manifested me doing this.

Thank you Universe. Thank you Universe. Thank you Universe.

HUMILIATING! Struppa Falls for BOFA Joke Onstage.

Despite his hours of practicing in the mirror, nothing could’ve prepared Struppa for what was to come on Monday at precisely 9:47AM. While waving his hands dramatically and welcoming new students to Chapman University, he made the amateur mistake of opening up the discussion for questions. “Do you guys have a BOFA center?”, bespoke a meager voice from the crowd. Struppa cleared his throat, his AI ill-equipped to handle such input. “What is BOFA?” He inquired. “BOFA DEEZ NUTS!” replied the crowd in thundering unison. The stage shook as Struppa crumbled to his knees. He lifted his hands, a white flag of submission against the faces of a thousand Raftus and Duffer wannabes united by a singular front. “What has humanity become?!” He begged, tears streaming down his face. The heavens split and a voice from beyond declared: “Stranger Things is getting a musical!”. Struppa gasped as a force lifted him to his feet. He hovered onstage, empowered by the success of alumni and the inevitable rise in applications. “It’s set in Nunya!”, spoke the voice. Struppa narrowed his eyes. His lips quivered. “Where is Nunya?”.

RA’s Now Authorized to Use “Lethal Force”

In anticipation of the rabid, delinquent, and ne'er-do-well freshmen that will soon flood Chapman’s innocent community, this year’s Resident Advisors have been authorized to use “controlled violence” in response to conduct breaches. 

“We’ve been trying out the ‘restorative and forgiving’ approach for a while now,” laments Sandhu RD Tom Alejandro, “but these kids are out of control. I lost two good advisors last week, dammit. We need emergency measures.”

These measures are intended to shift the RA position away from “friendly advocate” into the role of “judge, jury, and executioner” and will enable the use of no-knock warrants, shoot-first policies, removal of body cams, and tactical grenades. Parties will be tear-gassed, arguing roommates will be tazed, and rooms suspected of illegal candle usage will be raided via R.A. S.W.A.T. 

Some sissy losers complain that these policies are an “infringement of civil liberties” and that “martial law” is “bad.” However, us patriots at the Kumquat believe that these new changes are badass and cool. Protect the Thin Red Line!

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

Chapman Youth Groups Undergo Massive Rebrand

Chapman is seeing an increase of slayful Christians strutting their stuff in the streets of the piazza. They have been seen around campus listening to Charli XCX, smoking a lot of cigarettes, and wearing ironic baby tees. "We are watching ‘particular’ people from ‘particular’ communities and just copying everything about their life, removing the sin and just adding the best part; basically we're giving God," Junior Beth Anderson said. 

Kumquat reporters dig deeper into this need to be yassified children of God. "All I want is people to look at me and think SLAYYY… She is giving Virgin Mary. Is that too much to ask for," Sophomore Carter Samual said.

The Chapman community gives their opinions on this new spin of disguised Christianity. "I don't know who's cool or homophobic anymore," Freshman Sam Johnson said, “I’m so uncomfortable with them not being millennial core and having bad eyebrows.”

The Christian community has set clear boundaries on who can join them and who can't. "I want to be clear I don't support the Lil Nas X lovers that we borrowed these personalities from, it's not my fault they haven't met Jesus yet, but the second they do, we will be besties and slay the house down with a side of boots Houston I’m deceased! Sadly, they're all going to burn in hell.”

Breaking Cis-Het White Women: Colonized Slaying

When self-proclaimed ally senior Kayleigh Jones walked into the high school cafeteria sized gay club that is 'Strut' in Costa Mesa, she instantly felt at home. "No like my gay friends knewwww that I hated going to The D," she told The Kumquat, "the night that I had at the gay club was such a big slay."

And there it is. You hear it everyday. You see it in the latest Newport Beach Instagram photo comments. And you can't fucking escape it – slay. 

However, Jones' "slay" of a night isn't the first instance of this annoying behavior. She uses the term at the end of every sentence, hoping someone, specifically a queer person, notices that she's in tune with the 'newest', 'trendy' lexicon. Her gay friend, senior Marcus Wade, who requested to remain anonymous, recounts her behavior: "It's actually kind of really draining how often she says it around me. It feels like she sees me as this punching bag of a toy so that she can flaunt the fact that she has a gay friend.I’m terrifed of the day she learns what, “bussy” means. But I like going to date parties so I'm keeping them around, I guess."

In her interview with The Kumquat, Kayleigh Jones told our twink Kumquat writer that she thinks she popularized the term at Chapman: "No it's so crazy like everyyyone is saying it now! But it's kind of fun! It's just for the girlies that get it! :)” (we have no idea how she said :) out loud). When asked if she understood that her abuse of the word feels like she's stealing from Black, queer ballroom culture she apologized and offered a solution, "I didn't know that, but I'm listening and learning. I can start saying 'Yass king' instead?"

An Ally’s Experience at Pride

This pride month, in an incredible act of bravery, one straight Chapman student, Kyle Denvers, decided to take to Instagram to come out in support of the LGBTQ+ community. “I felt that it was important for me to use my voice this month to let people know that I, Kyle Denvers, am straight, but an ally to those people.” 

Back at Chaptown, Denvers’ GAY friend, Cristian Smith, suggested going to LA pride as a way to further show his support for the community. And this was perfect. Kyle knew that this would be the best opportunity to combine his passionate allyship with his love to get bitches. However, to his disbelief, Denvers was extremely stunned by the lack of dayger guidelines being followed. “First of all . the ratio was offff………why are there so many guys?” he questioned in confusion, “not only that but they’re wearing less clothes than the girls???? ”

But the pride dayger wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for Denver. He felt hurt by the fact that men who were attracted to other men weren’t hitting on him more: “They should be more grateful of the fact that I’m here and not calling the police.” However, Kyle Denvers didn’t understand that the point of pride was to celebrate and honor the years of work and sacrifices that marginalized community members have dedicated for queer visibility today. It started off as a riot, dumbass.

When approached for a Tik Tok regarding his thoughts on the implications of the overturn of Roe v. Wade would have on the LGBTQ+ community, he was excited to give his thoughts as an educated ally: "I really don't know what that has to do with them. Do you mean like, they would be happy cause there's more babies for them to adopt?"

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

Senior with Self-Designed Major Totally Fucked For Real World

Graduating Senior Garrett Johnson did not think things through when he created his major, "Ambient Nature Sounds Podcasting with a Blue Whale and Spring Peeper Frog Emphasis." Johnson believes Ambient Nature Sound Podcasting with a Blue Whale and Spring Peeper Frog Emphasis, or ANSPBWSPFE for short, in hindsight, was too niche. "It turns out most of the working world doesn’t involve whales or frogs." He said. "I wish my academic advisor had told me that before. I’m such a dingus." 

When asked for comment on Johnson's major, academic advisor Luis Taylor said, "It was a stupid and bad major. I just cash the checks. He can suck eggs for all I care." Despite Taylor's cavalier attitude, he assured Johnson there are many jobs he is qualified for in the real world. Of the many Taylor listed, the most likely of outcomes for Johnson in the workforce were Registry of Motor Vehicle worker, director of Res Life at Chapman, and motel shootout victim. Johnson is set to take the world head-on and is expected to pay off his student loans by the time a liberal arts degree has value again, an estimated N/A years from now.

Do Boys Masturbate?: Musings on Male Sexuality

Boys don’t…masturbate do they? Be honest with me. I know they don’t shit or piss but…do they masturbate? I just moved into Henley Hall and it’s my first time being surrounded by boys and I just assumed they didn’t have any gross bodily functions like that? I was raised on a farm by my moms and four sisters and you’d be hard pressed to find a day where we weren't constantly pissing, shitting, rubbing one out, farting, burping etc. but something about boys doing it is just…odd? Like what's the material benefit? You’re the breadwinner, what are you gaining from this? Like you jerked your dick to completion…that’s it? Unsettling. Smell a flower. Eat a corndog. Watch Ghostbusters (Boy and Girl version). Something about it seems…ungentlemanly like. Like leave it to the ladies, you’re a man. You don’t masturbate.

Sophomore White Woman Attempts to Speak Spanish on 2am Albertacos Run

The Kumquat’s own investigative journalists were notified by sources that Sophomore, Bethany Smitt, was seen struggling to speak Spanish while drunk at Albertacos at 2 a.m. Saturday morning. Smitt apparently said “Hola, mi favorida comida es tacos” and tried to talk about her last family vacation using the preterite while conversing with the unamused cashier who proceeded to ask her what she wanted to order in English. She then asked for a translator, reportedly claiming that it was her use of the vosotros that  made her Spanish too advanced to understand. 

“I’m in 102 right now and I think I’m really starting to sound like a native speaker,”said Smitt, when we interviewed her. “I got a C on my last test, but that’s just because it didn’t have a speaking component. When I speak, people, like, can’t believe that I’m full white.”. Bethany then tried to roll her R’s at us as a demonstration of her skills, but it just ended with spit flying everywhere. “It was hard to watch,” says Bethany’s friend Jess, one of those people Bethany goes out with on the weekends but isn’t like, a friend. According to Jess, she’ll push for the girls to head to Cane’s after a night out but if the cashier is brown and Bethany’s had enough tequila, we’ll all still be in for a treat.

Oops! Struppa Accidentally Refers to Self as “Principal Doody Head”

As Descartes once said, “sometimes you beef it”. During President Struppa’s annual Serious Business address to the board of trustees concerning serious business matters, Struppa accidentally referred to himself as “Principal Doody-head”. “To the board of trustees,” Struppa began, “I am Principal Doodyhead, and I’m wearing a great big diaper.” People began to murmur as it was clear Struppa was straying from the prepared remarks. When he was supposed to discuss the rising cost of tuition, Struppa instead said “It is sometimes difficult to wear a hat due to all of the doody on my head. I’ve tried many hats: a baseball cap, a top hat, a fedora.” Struppa’s foils continued in the section about graduation rates. “A backwards hat, a sideways hat, one of those flat brim hats.” At one point, an assistant murmured something in his ear. People began to think Struppa may get back on track until he announced “I’ve just been informed I referred to myself as Principal Doodyhead. It’s actually University President Doodyhead. Please show more respect in the future.” When an attendee pointed out that Struppa himself was the one to make the mistake, Struppa kicked him in the dick.

A Message to My POC Panthers

As my days in the Kumquat HQ come to a close, I think it's my duty, as the only Black person on staff, to relay the following: leave. Leave. This place is a municipal waste factory of nepotism babies and unwashed ass. LEAVE. This place is a trap. It’s literally in the name: Chapman U? More like Conservative U. CU Safely? At the Klan rally, because it’s only 20 minutes from campus. Someone asked me if I was an extra in ‘Planet of the Apes’ once. Leave. There’s a weird white supremacist in basketball shorts every semester handing out flyers for his “club”. My brother in Christ, LEAVE? Don’t even get me started on the frats. All of em, bad. SAE, I think you’re the stinkiest. Someone also got them in 4K, so I’ll be waiting. The white women here want to move to New York but they can’t even walk with purpose! Taking up all four corners of the sidewalk….Finally, if you don’t believe me, just do this: take a stroll to any of the (flip a coin) antique stores in the Circle and look at the “colorful” portraits.

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).

Heartwarming: Chapman Football Star Dates Lame Nerd Chick

Well isn’t that the kind of story that warms your heart, star Panther quarterback Doug Tatum has begun dating some lame nerd chick named Lisa or something fuckin weird like that. Despite constantly getting it on with the baddest chicks on campus, Doug has taken a liking to the quiet girl who sits in the back of the class, Lisa, even though she, like, watches anime and shit like that. Lisa, the girl with the big thick horn-rimmed glasses who always carries a calculator. Lisa, the girl who can spell real good. Doug and Lisa are reportedly “totally healthy!” As if! It can’t be healthy that a total jock like Doug is bumping uglies with a certified mathlete dweeb like Lisa. An anonymous friend of Doug’s told the Kumquat that “Last Thursday, he invited her to the D, but she stayed home to have a quiet night in and read? What the fuck?” When reached for comment Doug said “I happen to respect Lisa having different interests than me. You fail to consider that if you weren’t so shallow, you could actually meet someone who could expand your horizons and make you a more interesting person as Lisa does me, but unfortunately you people are small, and petty, and so quick to tear down anybody who’s even a little bit different”. But Doug, YOU fail to consider she’s a major DORK-O-ZOID!!!

Chap-Chella: A Festival for the Sad and Poor

Yas!!!!! Coachella season is upon us, and for the poors who have been watching from the sidelines, never fear, administration is here and putting on an even better, even crazier event. Introducing: Chap-chella. Dress code is specifically things that would make your Mom say, “Are you sure you want to wear that out?”. The venue will have limited space, due to the fact that the only room available on such short notice was a classroom in the Hashinger basement, but that’s what makes it so awesome. Exclusivity. Headlining are The Chaptones, one of those sophomore girls that sings on TikTok (idk which one), and Kanye!!!! Vendors include a singular table with Sodexo cookies, lemonade, and water. There will also be security detail (that one lady Psafe officer), and she said as long as the drugs aren’t meth, she’s fine with it. Remember that $70 Activity Fee we all have to pay, well it’s not going towards this. Buy your tickets ($300) now, you little freaks!!!!!!!

THOU SEEKETH THY SOUL! AND BREASTS!

HARK! Ere Saturday, thy moveth into thy castle of yee 7 minute Uber ride with ‘thy boys’. Thou dost listen to the music of the Gods - “Pursuit of Happiness” and Squid Game remix. The sweet nectar of Svedka and lush ice juul flows abundantly. Soft! I seest thou in thy fashion of Aphrodite: a Shein top and Levi shorts. Oh rare lady! Oh precious rose! My heart doth hum for thy body on thy sword (my penis)! For thy tits reminisce of ripe melons in the summer. Thou hast an ass as firm and bouncy as a nude peach. Perchance, I will sip thy ripe juice of thy celestial pussy! I beseech for thee Snapchat. But await – thou sloppy french kiss a PLEDGE?!? Below mine fraternity composite? Me thinks you a saucy prostitute! Get thee to a nunnery! Thou leaveth thy pledge and come hither. “Hey, where’s the bathroom?” Thou asks. “Slut.” I speaketh the truth, WHORE! Thou couldst brandished my weapon. Tis a loss! Perchance another worthy lady shall sucketh thy cock.

An Email Template for Missing Class

Hello professor __________,

I hope you're doing well today, and it was so funny seeing you at Laguna beach. But I have some terrible news…. Right after I saw you, I was diagnosed with a fatal disease, which will make it difficult for me to come to our class. I have also found that I'm congested. And also, it’s embarrassing to say, but I have No Bitches digestion. I've been shitting my ass for the past 2 hours since I've been rejected by 15 girls this week. If you're gonna drop my grade a whole letter, I can come to class and stay in the smelly Beckman bathroom while shitting and crying. But overall, I decided I’m not coming, and you're just going to have to deal with it… to be honest, I'm the victim here. How can you be so strict with attendance?..... I'm shitting…. You need to work on that. You are just jealous of me, so you make me come to your class every day. You're too sensitive, and I'm only telling you this cause I love you seriously. We had such a fun time at our last seminar 

Anyways love you, babe,

See you never </3

Sincerely,

______________

Bush Family Mural in Beckman Reportedly “Watching” Middle Eastern Students

“You know those haunted house paintings with the eyes that follow you around wherever you go? It’s kind of like that,” sophomore Biology major Yasmin Khalid told the Kumquat last week. “At first I didn’t really notice it because I try to make my mind go blank when I walk past their creepy, fucking wrinkled faces but last week on my way to Spanish I noticed and now I can’t stop noticing.” 

To test out Khalid’s hypothesis, our investigative team committed to a stakeout in the rafters above the entrance of Starbucks. For three straight days, our watched as the portraits stayed lifeless in front of the crowds of white business majors, but would unveil an almost Rainforest Café robot level set of peepers to dart around after anyone who looked vaguely Arab. 

Our investigators had to flee the premises after the Bush surveillance system locked it’s sights on a woman wearing hijab and became so overwhelmed it caught on fire, spreading quickly across the first floor. When asked if the Bush family’s massive funding contributions have played a role in the security features of the building, administration told us “The family’s ok now! Look, at  Junior’s silly little paintings, hasn’t bombed anybody in years!”.

Enemies To Lovers: How I Fell For Honest Abe

Abraham Lincoln stared back at me in front of Starbucks. Standing as tall as in legend, his imposing form–nay, his very existence–taunted me. Naturally, as a blue-blooded liberal, I went straight to Struppa’s office and demanded that the problematic statue be refunded and the money used for scholarships instead. Struppa seemed disappointed, saddened even–and with the lewd fanart of Lincoln littering his room, it seemed that he wasn’t even aware of Lincoln's historical racism. 

“You don’t like Honest Abe?” he asked, close to tears, “is… is he not… not cool enough for you?” 

I said that “Abe” would never be cool, no matter what Struppa did, and left, defiant.

The next morning, however, Abraham was wearing the latest fashion, some radical shades, and even had a fresh new fade. I would say I was angry, but that, dear reader, would be a lie. Somehow, the anger had morphed into something else, it was now some kind of… curiosity. I soon found out that, additionally, Mr. Lincoln now had a freshly chiseled jawline and six-pack, bronze-hard, abs.

Ashamed and questioning my own morals, I darted away–may he not tempt me, I declared. 

The next morning however, he had a skateboard. Then, a provocative but tasteful tattoo. Then, a light novel that made him seem academic yet approachable. He was more relatable now. More hip. He was athletic but humble about it. Intellectual but clearly new how to get down. Friendly but mysterious. He may still have been secretly racist, but on second thought, so was half of Chapman University. 

I couldn’t deny it any longer. Abe was, in fact, pretty cool. 

And Abe, as I found out on that crisp April day, had surprisingly tender lips.