Posts by Jacko:
Cancer: colonoscope (get it?)
Libra: Rifle Scope
- Aquarius: Scope mouthwash
By now we’ve all heard of and used what’s being called the sexiest spice ever: cardamom. Food critics agree that its strong taste and intense aroma bring dishes to the next level. But this critic can’t help but wonder why there’s no cardadad. I’ve had my fair share of dishes with cardamom that are indeed phenomenal and yet I still think that the dish would be served better if it had the support of another strong spice.
Think of your favorite sauce. You wouldn’t think of making it with just one spice. Sure, it would still have a flavor, but would the sauce be brought up in the right way? The average sauce will have at least two distinct spices to support it and give it the life it needs. Something to fill the role of cardadad is important to the development of a dish.
I am of the opinion that sometimes the use of two helpings of cardadad, that’s right two cardadads, can be a great benefit. Some people find this offensive or believe it to be a “sin in the eyes of God.” I say spices are spices and you can never have too much of a good thing. Anyone who thinks otherwise is just blinded by their own prejudice.
That’s not to say that cardamom isn’t good on its own. For a single spice it sure has done a good job of raising the flavor profile of many a dish. You can’t fault the cardamom for being alone in the dish – important decisions were made to get to that point. And I’ll be the first to admit that yes, sometimes you don’t ever need a cardadad to be successful. But when I’m in a restaurant sometimes I can’t help myself, I have to ask the chef what happened.
How did you get to this point? Do we even know what the cardadad is or what it could be? Was there a cardadad in the beginning but the spice had ran out by the time you went to make the dish?
Think back to your childhood and just imagine, one day you go into the kitchen and you see the cardamom and the cardadad. Maybe it has been awhile since you’ve seen the cardadad but you can’t tell how long it’s been, you’re too young. You get to take the cardadad outside to toss on some of that pigskin you’re grilling. But inside the spices clash, they ratio was wrong and the dish was ruined. Hell, your day is ruined then. And just like that there’s no more cardadad in the house.
Maybe someday we’ll discover the cardadad or find the correct substitute for it. Yet I wonder if a substitute will ever be truly right. It’s questions like these that keep me up at night. My friends and mother will tell you the same thing – it’s an issue I take to heart. I’ve never known why the idea has stuck with me. It could have something to do with my father, though I wouldn’t know, as I’ve never met him.
1. Don’t let a little heartbreak bring you down! Taylor knows how to shut down the haters with her creative songs and killer voice.
2. Wait a second, why are you comparing yourself to Taylor Swift to gain confidence, anyway? She’s just a singer and you probably have other things going for you. Maybe you don’t want to be anything like her.
3. In fact, Taylor Swift probably has a lot of underlying insecurities. You know those weepy songs she’s always singing about the “teardrops on her guitar” and the tattered “sneakers” and “T-shirts” she wears all the time? Is that really what you aspire to?
4. Maybe you should give up on Taylor Swift entirely and find another confident, inspiring woman to look up to. What about Malala Yousafzai, or Ruth Bader Ginsberg? You don’t see those women singing bitter tunes about their “long lists of ex-lovers.” Why? Because unlike Taylor Swift, they actually have their sh*t together.
5. Keep your chin up when you walk to feel taller!
Here at Jogue, we’ve seen celebrity trends that have come and gone. Remember boot cut jeans, fedoras or worst of all, the #nomakeup selfie (yikes!)? If there’s anything we’ve learned over the years, it’s one thing –sometimes beauty isn’t always skin-deep. Occasionally, it’s what’s on the inside that counts. So in this interview, we’re talking organs, ladies! We’ve tracked down Dr. Rhea, the mastermind behind Kate Hudson’s flawless colon to hear all about how he did it!
J: So can you tell us a little bit about how you came up with the idea to reconstruct Kate Hudson’s colon?
Dr. Rhea: when you think about Kate Hudson, America’s sweetheart, there’s fierceness behind her. But I think it was Paris Hilton who said it best when she said in 2003, “Can’t I just not pooh?” Darling, it’s been 12 years and we still hadn’t solved this problem! So when Kate came to me asking me to help her, I had one thing on my mind. I looked her in the eye and said, “Darling, there’s about to be a new Hudson Canal in town.”
J: What exactly did you do?
Dr. Rhea: Let’s just say she’s clean as a whistle now. Naomi Watts’ agent has been calling me up nonstop.
J: Huh. I heard a report saying that you think that colon reconstruction is the new face of feminism. We care a lot about women here at our publication. Can you expand on this?
Dr. Rhea: Women these days are expected to run a family and go to work, be self sufficient in every way. They don’t have time for silly things like running to the restroom. Time is money, and when Kate Hudson is in the bathroom and not on the red carpet, the fashion industry suffers.
J: Wait, did you actually completely remov–
Dr. Rhea: Darling, prompting women to rethink everything about themselves is the best gift that I can give them. They should not have to accept who they are, but instead ask themselves, ‘how might I be better?’
J: Wait, what?
So easy, a monkey could do it!
Gather your materials. You will need a saucepan, a cold egg, a ramekin, a slotted spoon, and some water.
Fill the saucepan with about one inch of water.
Light the stove, and turn the heat to medium-low. (The clicking of the gas, before it alights, reminds you of a ticking clock. Every day the seconds seem to pass more slowly. You are aging. Time is not on your side. Whenever you look in the mirror, you are confronted with the reality of your own mortality. Someday you will grow very old. Someday, you will die.)
Keep an eye on the water! When it begins to gently simmer, crack the egg into the ramekin. (The eggshell shatters. You are transported back in time, to your childhood. You used to be so carefree, frolicking about in the sunshine, never once worrying what the future would hold. Your scrapes and bruises did not bother you, because you were young and hardy and ready to tackle the world head-on, as you swung from tree to tree. You had no enemies, no worries, no doubts. But youth is fleeting. You lift your hand to your face, and feel that the once-taut skin has begun to wrinkle. There is no escaping time.)
Turn off the heat and put the lid on the saucepan.
Set a timer for 4 minutes. No peeking until time is up! (You watch the seconds tick away with a sort of morbid pleasure. Time moves much more quickly nowadays. You used to always be in such a rush, always waiting for something to happen, constantly wishing you were older, more worldly, more free. But now each moment that passes is just sand in the hourglass, an hourglass which you know will never be re-inverted. There are no second chances. Each moment could be your last.)
When time is up, carefully remove the egg from the water with a slotted spoon, taking care not to break the yolk. (The yolk splits. Of course it does, you could never do anything right, could you, isn’t that what they always told you? You’ve never met their expectations. In fact, you’ll never be good enough for them, even if you ARE the first chimpanzee to make a perfect poached egg!)
Place egg gently on a plate, a piece of toast, or an English muffin – whatever your heart desires. Bon appetit!
· A feather duster!
o Bring some fun, flirty energy into the bedroom tonight and tickle him silly!
· Old Halloween costumes!
o Be his naughty nurse and recycle some old gear!
· 4 Matchbox Cars!
o Use your imagination!
· A mousetrap!
o No need to tell you what to do with this one ;)
· An avocado!
o You know what to do, you nasty gal.
· A nail file!
o My husband tells me this is normal but I’m really not sure anymore????
- You are great at keeping secrets.
- People often tell you that you are fiercely loyal.
- None of your clothing rustles, and all of your shoes have rubber soles.
- You rarely speak of your personal history. Most of your friends aren’t sure what your last name is.
- You have very few personal belongings. All your posters are hung up with blue painter’s tape.
- Your morals have been called into question more than once.
- You would do almost anything for money, especially if it’s under the table.
- You move only under cover of darkness.
- You are aware of more than 3,000 ways to kill a man using only a corkscrew.
- It is after midnight. You enter his house silently, leaving no trace as you slide through the open window. Without so much as a rustle, you sneak into his bedroom. His slumber is deep, and he does not stir. With the finesse of an artist, you slit his throat across the jugular, as is your tradition. You move so quickly that he does not have time to cry out. The smell of his blood excites you. You’ve done this a thousand times, never with any less pleasure. You are immensely skilled at your craft. The mission has been executed seamlessly. You will not be seen here again.
It’s just me, the delivery boy.
Oh, come on in.
The door is locked, though.
Well, let me fix that then.
*Walks in, takes off full body mask*
Haha, it’s me, Satan! You’re going to hell!
Oh…so you don’ want to go?
Well…okay. I get it. I’ll leave.
But, before I go…is it…is it because of me?
Is the reason you don’t want to go, is it…is it because of me? No one ever wants to go to hell. Is it because there is something wrong with me?
No, no. Of course it’s not you.
Thanks. I really appreciate it.
What about, like, Thursday?
Oh. No. Sorry, I’m busy Thursday.
This week is really busy.
I…I have a lot of work tonight.
No that’s… that’s fine. I have to go deal with a ton of stuff too.
*Sulks and leaves*
DG-B ’15 and DZ ‘16
Who do you think it is? Open up!
Do you have a warrant?
Like I need a warrant. Do you know how many calls we have been getting?
You so much as open a window, and I’ll blast you’re brains out.
So much as threatening a cop could put you behind bars.
Some cop you are.
What’s that supposed to mean?
You think I was born yesterday? What kind of cop drives a Lexus? A dirty cop.
That don’t mean shit.
I’m no chump.
Well, regardless of what you think you know, I got the right to blast your fucking door down.
Go ahead. Make my day.
I’ve been dreaming about bashing your face in for a while now.
I’m sure that’s what you’ll be dreaming about right after I knock you out.
Who is it? Another fucking cop?
Who are you talking to?
Someone is knocking on my side door.
No, it’s me.
Hey! You don’t talk to her!
You don’t tell me not to talk to my girlfriend.
Yeah, that’s right. She started dating me after she dumped your sorry ass.
Trish? Is this for real?
Trish, you can’t be serious. This is how you tell me?
That’s not important. I came here to help you.
Some help this is. Telling me you started going out with a dipshit beat cop.
You shut up Connor.
Connor, just let me in. Let me talk to you.
Don’t go in there, Patricia, it’s not safe.
I’m sure it’s much safer out there.
Connor, I’m trying to help you. You don’t have to do this.
What do you care?
I care about you. *Opens door and walks in*
Save it for someone who still gives a shit.
Hey! You don’t talk to her like that.
Who the hell do you think you are?
You so much as lay a finger on her–
Oh, real scary, Columbo.
Connor. Listen to me. Just back down.
Did he put you up to this?
That’s not important.
What do you mean, it’s not important? Of course it’s important.
You say you care about me, but you only show up here to help out your new cop boyfriend.
Connor, if you don’t stop all of this, he and his team are going to come in here and light you and this place up. So who cares who asked me to do what? The fact of the matter is, I’m trying to save your sorry ass.
Who says I wanted any saving?
You know what? Do whatever you want. If you want to get yourself into this mess, then you can try to dig your way out. Let this be my last goodbye.
Just get out of here, Trish.
Bye, Connor. *Leaves*
I’m giving you to the count of ten to come outside with your hands up before me and the rest of my team turn this place orange.
What kind of expression is that?
We’re gonna light it up. Turn it orange.
I’ve just never heard that before. Turn it orange. Who would have thought?
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
*Starts shooting* Orange you glad I didn’t say banana!
10. Jamie P.
Jamie P has definitely been working on his butthole. It is so much
rounder than last year.
9. Laura F.
Laura F.’s butthole is looking real tight and dark. That’s a top ten butthole
if I’ve ever seen one.
8. Donny P.
This is Jamie’s older brother, so maybe good buttholes
just run in the family. This thing is so nice it even has an echo.
7. Austin K.
Austin’s got the fundamentals down: round, tight and dark.
Nice butthole, Austin!
6. Austin Y.
Austin Y.’s butthole just edged out Austin K.’s butthole
for style points. Way to keep that butthole fresh.
5. Sharon O.
Wow, Sharon. That’s gotta be the roundest butthole we’ve
seen on this list so far. Take note, campus.
4. Sandy P.
She’s Donny and Jamie’s cousin. I don’t know
what it is, but the Ps just manufacture amazing buttholes.
That’s straight up coal mine potential. Noice!
3. Colin F.
Can we get someone to check if this is a real butthole? This looks
too dark to be real. No, but seriously, nice butthole, Colin.
2. Anna C.
Cowabunga! This butthole just does not stop! It’s gonna be
hard to top your butthole, Anna!
1. Phil J.
I can’t tell if I’m looking at a butthole, or the butthole of God. This is one divine butthole. Phil, I have no words. You have got the best butthole on campus.