I Lost My V-Card to a Corpse

By Megan Klein

One look at those long bony legs and lusting lips, and I wanted to bone. Like straight up bone this beautiful corpse I accidentally dug up. I know what you’re thinking: “Megan, why don’t you get a real boyfriend like everyone else?”
Well first off, I don’t want a boyfriend. I’m a cool gal that knows how to hang. Having a boyfriend is totally overrated when I need to be discovering ME– my interests, my passions, what makes me tick. I need to date myself right now. I’m not saying that if you have a boyfriend your life is totally and completely over, but you do have a lot of restrictions. If that works for you, then great! But I sure love the freedom of being able to wake up in the morning and know I have my whole day ahead of me free of the distraction of love. I can gracefully accept cat-calls,  play video games, and even wear the kinds of shoes I want. All free from mutual caring and consideration by an S.O.

So when Skele-boy texted me, “You wanna hang?” I thought, this is my chance to lose my v-card to someone who doesn’t love me. That way, I never have to worry about catching the feelings plague. So I did it. And holy guacamole. We banged in his coffin until sunrise. We were cuddling, and he said, “Hey, can you go home?” So I did. An old lady ghost jealously glared at me while I gathered my clothes and promptly climbed out from his grave. What a hater. I am a strong, independent woman who is learning that life is about loving yourself, and knowing that boys will break your heart, but if you take out your heart and force them to eat it, they can’t hurt you.

Halloween Sex Tips

By Critter Fink

Image result for pumpkin glory hole
  1. Empty a pumpkin out
  2. Layer the guts in a 9X13 pan
  3. Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees
  4. Bake the pumpkin guts for 10-13 minutes or until golden orange
  5. Carve a penis shaped hole in the side of the pumpkin
  6. Put the fully baked pumpkin guts back into the pumpkin
  7. Put your penis into the hole
  8. Feel the burns from the extremely hot guts surround your member 
  9. Fuck the shit out of that pumpkin 
  10. Go to the hospital to get your second and third degree burns treated
  11. Give your number to the first nurse you see
  12. Wait three days 
  13. She will not have texted you in this time 
  14. Find out where she lives
  15. Bring the pumpkin that you originally fucked 
  16. Put the pumpkin on her front porch
  17. Break into her home
  18. Murder her
  19. Take her corpse home because you are now married
  20. Empty out the innards in her body 
  21. Put them in a 9X13 pan, lightly greased
  22. Bake for 15-20 minutes or until golden brown 
  23. Stuff her torso fill of the now  
  24. Enjoy having a warm body in your bed again
  25. Return to her home because you forgot your pumpkin you goof!
  26. The police are there and you tell them you just need your pumpkin
  27. Literally seven people saw you dragging the corpse out
  28. Double check that the oven is off
  29. The police will bring you to jail
  30. You are now serving life in prison
  31. Learn how to be a bottom bitch in prison
  32. Get craaaazy good at giving head
  33. Find a drug kingpin to be your zaddy

So if you want a cute and casual way to put some Halloween fun into you sex life this is the plan for you!

Halloween Decorations That Say You’re a Spooky Witch Down to F***

By Megan Klein

Need a way to tell your crush that you’re totally cool to do “stuff” without actually saying anything? Let’s these Halloween decorations do it all for you!
  1. Candelabra – This one really says you know how to give good head. 
  1. Cobwebs – Ooooh, spooky! Show your casual hook-up that they’ll never be able to leave or escape you with these hot webs of lusty love
  1. A spooky doll – look at your crush, then look at your doll, then look back at your crush. Stare so deep into his eyes that your limbs begin to melt, and utter, “you have the same eyes.” He’ll be flattered, and blush.
  1. A wine glass that says “Witches Brew” – you did it! You’re officially a witch! How creepy chic of you! Now bewitch him into never leaving you. Before you know it, he’ll be proposing, then you’ll be married, then you’ll have five kids and he can never leave you for that nasty Brunhilda!
  1. A jack-o-lantern – carve your crush into a big ol’ orange ball and roast the pumpkin seeds into a heart. His heart. He’ll marry you instantly, and you’ll die on the same day at the same time lying next to each other
  1. Some spiders – real ones, so when they bite your crush, he turns into a mutant to everyone else, but stays beautiful to you so no crazy, crazy girl can fall in love with him. He loses all other sense of feeling, and becomes incapable of speech. He can only repeat, “I kiss you long long time”.

  1. A casual knife – Use it to cut some apples to a sweet cider!

Heinz Chapel to Now Only Recognize Marriages Under the Church of Shrek

By Dana GoodImage result for church of shrek

At a controversial press conference on Tuesday, Heinz Chapel Head of Affairs Tracy Sylvester announced the famous landmark’s decision to only allow weddings under the church, “First Assembly of His Holiness Shrek”.

“We have let all those other stupid and made-up religions trample over us for too long,” said Sylvester of the historically non-denominational chapel, “It’s time we show our undying devotion to our lord and savior Shrek, once and for all.” An official list of changes that will be made to the chapel was released following the press conference.

Some of the alterations include: painting the famous red front doors a “swamp green”, carving “Shrek yo-self before u wreck yo-self, motherfuckers!!” above the chancel, and requiring all sheet music to be replaced with Smash Mouth’s 1999 hit song “All Star”. When asked for further questioning on these new changes, Sylvester removed her blazer, revealing a t-shirt that read, “Farquaad can eat my green ogre ass” and proceeded to shout, “I live in a swamp! I put up signs! I’m a terrifying ogre! What do I have to do to get a little privacy?” Construction will begin in early October and the Chapel will re-open in early November.

Solely You Caused the Drought in California

By Shannon Kelly

Image result for california drought

You are an upperclassman and you should have known better. It was O-week. You went out with your roommates on Saturday night. They heard about a party on Dawson, and even though you live in North Oakland, you decide it’s a go. When you arrive, the porch is about to give out. Someone hands you a green solo cup. You’re colorblind. Your roommate next to you sniffs the jungle juice like a wine connoisseur. It’s a red. Fruit Punch Kool-Aid..  


An hour later, you walk past a Freshman boy on the way out.  He asks, “What does it cost to get in?” You think, “Your dignity.” You respond, “$5.” You keep going. You arrive back to the apartment, where you realize you never picked up a pizza you ordered. You remember a quote on wastefulness: “A man by his sin may waste himself, which is to waste that which on earth is most like God. This is man’s greatest tragedy and God’s heaviest grief.” Little Nippers will never forgive you.
You decide to make your own drunken food. You open your cabinets. Toothpaste. Wrong cabinets. You open your kitchen cabinets. Mac and Cheese. A food with false dignity like a stripper making a weighty deposit at the bank. You read the instructions: Boil 6-8 quarts of water. “In What?” you scream to God. You read on. In a medium-sized pot. You turn on the sink. But you are drunk and the sink knows better than to take advantage of you. You sit down. You fall asleep.

You wake up the next morning covered in hard pasta. You push your friend “pasta” off of the futon. You go into the kitchen to get water only to realize the tap has been on all night. So much water. It was you, solely you; an individual caused the drought in California that has left millions in broken despair. What’s worse? Your Brita is empty.

Study: Teachers Who Allow Formula Sheets Have Bigger Dicks

By Phil Forrence



A recent study out of the University of Pittsburgh suggests that professors who allow students to use custom formula sheets on math, science, or engineering tests have a heftier endowment than those who do not.


“Well, hey, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Dr. James Townsend. “Just because a professor allows equation sheets on midterms doesn’t necessarily mean he has a larger inseam.” Trends don’t control the reality of the individual, he explained. “In my case though, yeah, I got one swinging peen.”


Dr. Samuel Lincoln is the head of the Computer Engineering department at Pitt. “We should be careful talking about these studies,” said Lincoln. “Correlation isn’t causation. Just because I allow my students a single note card, front and back, for each Micro-Electronics test, doesn’t mean I have a Johnson worth singing about.” There is not necessarily a one to one relationship between allowing flashcards and a large penis. “But if we’re talking specifically about me, yeah, I got one slangin’ bangin’ sex nightmare.”

“It’s actually an old teaching adage that if you allow equation sheets, you might have a more expansive ‘manhood’,” explains Dr. Elizabeth Brooks, professor of chemical engineering at Pitt. “In my experience, that isn’t true 100% of the time.” Here, she implicates anecdotal evidence that not all teachers who help their students out have the aforementioned enhanced state of being. “If we’re talking about me though, I got one enormous hanky-panky stanky love making monstrosity.”

I Lived It: My Death

By Riley Weber

For as long as humans have existed, philosophers and laymen alike have wondered, is there life after death? Many speculate, but I believe that I finally have the answer. Following a recent near death experience, I witnessed the afterlife firsthand and came back to tell the tale. Here is my incredible story.
Image result for bright lights
It began as I was running late for class. I had just gotten coffee from Starbucks, and needed to rush across Fifth Avenue. I was so focused on drinking coffee and watching this great gif on my phone, you know, the one with the cat on the hoverboard, that I forgot to look left. All I can recall was a flash of red, a loud horn and then things went black. Next, I felt a gust of cool, neat air blowing past my face. I looked up and saw a bright fluorescent light, near blinding. The air smelled clean and artificial. I heard the soft beeps of a checkout line and I knew I could only be in one place, a Rite Aid. I took a step inside and a kind-looking old woman handed me a smiley sticker.

“Do stores still do this?” I asked
“Here we do, sweet child.” She said, and began to shuffle away.
Puzzled, I began to look around. I looked down an aisle and it seemed to carry on endlessly. The next one appeared to as well. I walked perpendicular to the aisles, examining the wares. The shelves were pristinely stocked with anything you could need; Easy Mac, lotion, hair ties, tacky Halloween decorations, 3 packs of underwear for some reason, and yes, even tonic water, shelves upon shelves on tonic water. I looked up and realized I had been walking for ten minutes and still could not see the end to the aisles.
Could this be the afterlife? Was this magnificent, austere Rite Aid all that was in store for us? I grabbed a pack of on-sale gummi worms and made my way to the registers, to search for answers. I reached the counter and again I found the same old lady that greeted me.
“Are you the only employee here?”
“My dear, this is a Rite Aid. Of course we’re understaffed.” She said with a wise smile. “Did you find everything you were looking for today?”
“No. I need to know what this place is.”
The old woman chuckled. “That’ll be $2.06,” she replied.
I swiped my card through the machine. It buzzed annoyingly.
“It’s one of those chip-reading ones they just unnecessarily invented,” she explained.
I stuck my card into the reader and felt a hard shock. I hurried to grab my card and got another jolt. I blinked and the next thing I saw were two paramedics above me, holding a defibrillator.
“Sir, are you ok?!”

I smiled knowingly. “Yes.” I told them. “We’re all going to be alright.”

Op/Ed: People I Would Elect Before Donald Trump

By Dan Smith

Image result for hillary clinton and bernie sanders

-Bernie Sanders
-Hillary Clinton
-Elizabeth Warren
-Michelle Obama
-Stephen Colbert
-John Stewart
-Lil B
-John Green
-Kanye West
-Ophelia from Market Central
-Chance the Rapper
-My mom
-Emma Watson
-Vermin Supreme
-Oprah
-Ellen Degeneres
-Leslie Knope
-The hacker from Cyberchase
-Finn the Human
-Alex Trebek
-Literally any cat
-Joe Biden
-Roc the Panther
-Lincoln Chafee
-Jimmy McMillan
-Hulk Hogan
-Steve Harvey
-The moon emoji
-Billy Ray Cyrus
-Bill Murray -Either of the Sprouse twins -Both of the Sprouse twins -Louis C K -Al Gore -A dead squirrel -Morgan Freeman -Beyoncé -Jaden Smith -Bryan Cranston
-John Cena
-An ant farm

Two ant farms

Survival Guide for When You Forget Your Headphones

By Jessica Simpson


Everyone knows the dreaded feeling of looking in your pockets only to realize you forget your headphones at home. Now you have to be alone with your thoughts. What a nightmare! We’ve created this handy survival guide for what to do if you should encounter such a fate.Image result for dramatic dmitry

-If you’re “studying” and you “take a break” to watch Netflix, just put it on mute and turn on the captions.  Reading is important!
-Sing to yourself! If people stare it’s just because you’re a talented human and they’re jealous.
-Find an appropriate public place to play your tunes aloud without people giving you withering stares.
-Cave and buy new, extremely overpriced headphones, conveniently found at your local Pitt shop or drugstore retailer.  
-Steal someone’s headphones (please don’t).
-Skip your class, abandon all of your responsibilities and go home to get your headphones.  Priorities.
-Walk very close to people wearing headphones—close enough that it’s not creepy but you can still hear the music—one to two feet away is acceptable.  Avoid restraining orders.  
-Allow yourself to have an epiphany that you don’t actually need your headphones.  You only need to open yourself up to the beautiful world around you.  Meditate! Write a poem! Make a friend!

-Find sticks, seashells, what-have you that resembles earphones.  Put them in your ears and pretend they are headphones.  If you can’t actually listen to music you might as well blend in!

Professor Sleeps with Student to Raise Rate My Professors Score

By Leo Corman
Image result for black college professor
Pitt professor Joseph Schmoe has become the subject of significant controversy after news surfaced today that he had sex with one of his students in an attempt to raise his subpar rating on the popular website RateMyProfessors.com.
According to Schmoe, it all began last year when, against his better judgment, he looked up his own Rate My Professors score. “I was absolutely taken aback. Sure, maybe I’m not the best professor out there,” said Schmoe, visibly distressed. “Maybe I’m not the easiest, or the friendliest, or the most attractive, but Jesus Christ, I’m a college professor, not your Hooters waitress. And 1.2? 1.2! I know damn well that I’m not a 1.2!”

It wasn’t just the low overall rating, by far the worst in his department, that upset Schmoe, but the content of the students’ comments as well: “I read through all 127 student ratings, and many were simply ridiculous. ‘Talks too much.’ It’s a lecture, what the hell am I supposed to do? Should I just stand there and stare at you? ‘Know-it-all.’ Really? You want a professor that doesn’t know anything? That’s what you’d prefer? ‘Looks like Herbert from Family Guy.’ That’s completely irrelevant, and I do not! I’m 35 years old, and there’s absolutely no resemblance whatsoever!”
Schmoe says he felt helpless. “I just wanted one honest, fair rating, one that reflects what I deserve for all the effort I’ve put in, and it seemed like I had no way of getting that. I have way too much integrity to go online and falsify my own rating … so I decided to sleep with that girl in the hope that she might give me a good rating. Was it a smart idea? No. Will I lose my job? Probably. Did she give me a good rating? Last time I checked, she has not. Honestly, I’d give the whole experience a 1.2/5.”
When asked about the incident, Schmoe’s wife, Jean, said, “I just feel sorry for that poor girl. I mean, you think Joe is bad at teaching – just wait until you have to sleep with him.”