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The 432 Apr 9, 1999

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 The   Official   Newspaper   of   the   Eighth   Annual  Arts  County   Fair
Full-out War
"Imminent" in Kosovo
In a dramatic break from tradition, The 432
is pre-empting our fake story on 54«40
breaking up, and will instead report on late-
breaking events in Kosovo. The following
news story is taken from a REUTERS source.
isiiia»>HarcIi22
The situation in the Balkans dramatically
escalated    late    Thursday
night.  In  an  attempt  to
widen the theatre of combat, Serbia launched a ground offensive   against   Macedonia   and   the
24,000 NATO troops stationed there.
At   this   time,   reports   coming   out   of
Macedonia are sketchy, but some indicate
that chemical weapons have been used
by Serbian troops against both NATO
troops    and    the    250,000    Ethnic
Turkish government, seeing an opportunity unrivaled since the Second World War,
reacted by air-dropping paratroopers onto the island of Cypress, proclaiming it to be
Turkish territory. The island of Cypress has been the focus of much tension between
Greece and Turkey, and the cause of several armed conflicts since the 1950s.
Because of the increased military traffic in the area, several neutral UN observers
have reported coming under fire by military aircraft in the melee. No doubt this is
one of the effects the Serbs had hoped to cause.
A Russian reconnaissance frigate in the Adriatic Sea also reports coming under fire
from an unknown aircraft. Accusations that it was a NATO plane have yet to be confirmed or denied by NATO sources. Russian military command have activated their
armed forces,, recalling some 300,000 reserve troops. Moscow has also requested permission from the Turkish gov-
"US retaliation [to chemical war] will
be swift...
and nuclear."
ernment to send 20 more military  vessels   through   Turkish
water en route to the Adriatic Sea. The Turkish government has
approved the request.
In keeping with the United States' long-standing anti-biological and chemical weapons stance, American .President
Bill Clinton threatened that if Serbia again used chemical
weapons in the Macedonian theatre, US
US President Bill Clinton
Albanian Refugees seeking shelter in
the former Yugoslav republic. One anonymous NATO source described both military
and civilian casualties as "catastrophic.
Beyond imagination."
Greece immediately came to the aid of the
NATO troops, sending 12,000 of its own
armed forces into the troubled region. The
retaliation would be both "swift, and
nuclear." Clinton went on to say that "the
nations of NATO cannot continue to simply stand by while dictators and fascists
such as Slobodan Milosevic continue to use weapons of mass destruction with
impunity. Mr. Milosevic, these actions can not and will not be tolerated in a civilised
world. You will be punished."
Russian President Boris Yeltsin responded to President Clinton's stance, stating that
"Mr. Clinton's policy of using weapons of mass destruction as a deterrent to nations
considering using weapons of
mass destruction simply does not
make sense. Russia will not stand
idly by while America attacks the
innocent bystanders in Serbia. If
a nuclear strike occurs against
Serbia, a similar strike can be
expected against Washington."
After hearing President Yeltsin's
statement, Clinton remained
firm in his resolve to use nuclear
weapons as a deterrent in the
Balkans.
The first to suffer in this new
offensive are undoubtedly the
Ethnic Albanians currently fleeing Kosovo. The stream of
refugees coming out of Kosovo
slowed to a trickle early Friday
morning. What few refugees who
did appear in the neighbouring
states told tales of "ethnic cleansing" taking a terrible turn.
Albanians are now being systematically executed, rather then
deported.
UNICEF had not verified this
statement as of press time.
YUGOSLAVIA
E-Coli and You: Study
says ACF "high risk"
\
0NTEMEQH0
!*■
sovo
/
^
HACEOWjtA
Serbian invasions of neighbouring countries.
Dramatic Re-enactment.
ItlfSfillllifS
Enjoy that hamburger at the fair, but
watch out for death causing bacteria,
warns a recent study from Health
Canada.
"Undercooked hamburger is at significantly more risk of E-Coli contamination than other beef products,"
stated Health Canada Researcher
Alice Samples, "Most E-Coli resides
on the surface of the beef, and can be
spread throughout the meat during
grinding, increasing the risk of infection."
This risk is magnified at open air fairs
such as the Arts County Fair, where
the emphasis during food preparation
is on speed and efficiency rather than
on maintaining health standards.
"To properly kill all E-Coli resident
in beef, the meat should be cooked to
a bare minimum 160 degrees fahren-
heit for 10-15 minutes, verified by a
meat thermometer," continues
Samples, "obviously this kind of diligence is not observed at venues such
as the ACF, where outdoor grills rarely
even reach 160 degrees fahrenheit,
and patties never stay on the grill
more than a minute before being
served to a drunk fair-goer."
So, how do you know if you've been
poisoned while enjoying the fair?
Symptoms of fatal-level E-Coli poisoning may include:
• Mild abdominal cramping
• Mild nausea
• Paranoia
• Dry throat sometimes accompanied by hacking cough
• Loss of coordination
• Excessive urination (indicative of
the onset of kidney failure)
If you, or anyone who know,
exhibits these symptoms, seek medical help as soon as possible. page two
The
432
4.9.99
Riding the Skin Boat to Tuna Town.
Seeing as this is most likely my last
ever article for the 432 I would like
to take this space to list all the people I hate.
Craig Temple, John Hallett, Andy
Martin, Shirin Foroutan, Ryan Marshall,
Jesse Sims, Jiuliano Giusti, Sidney Chiu,
Gildo Giusti, Josh Douglas, Sean Rollo,
Amanda Seymour, Aarne Hamalainen,
Adrian Mitchell, Alex Varju, Angela Ho,
Anna Carvalho, Bella Carvalho, Corrie
Baldwin, Doug Belazney, Dave Belazney,
Don Nash, Johan Thortan, Frenchy
Maftei, Henry Wong, Ian Neville, Jeremy
Thorp, Jeffry Steinbok, John Fournier,
Kathryn Murray, Kirby Sands, Michael
Boetzkis, Phil Ledwith, Roman
Kaminski, Scott MacLachlan, Taryn Iker,
Marianne Bach, Mike Inwood, Jake
MacKinley, Bree Baxter, Karen Sonik,
Neena Sonik, Sara Stamm, Lisa
Blackshaw, Sheldon Tay, Jenn Gardy,
Jagmeet Dost, PKU (the Pumpkin King),
Reka Sztopa, Marcin Delecki, Keri
Gammon, Jamie Withers, Marianne
Adamec, Winko Wu, Duncan McHugh,
Jaisun Garcha, Amir Baradaran, Kevin
MacDonald, Sarah Galashan, Sally
Tourani, Horny Pam, Ryan Davies,
Vivian Hoffman, Jennie Chen, David
Borrins, Every member of the Canadian
Campus Crusade for Christ, Jan-Carlo
Villarante Garcia, Allison Dunnett,
Owen Chan, Graham Senft, Jonothan
Fast, Bev Mario, Erin Kaiser, Chris
Gouranski, Nathan Allen, Desmond,
Bernie Peets, Paramjeet Rai, Tim Ambler,
Nardwuar, Tina Ciao, Sandra
Matsuyama, The Malchiks, Speedbump,
Flannel Jimmy, Moz, Aaron Adamack,
Natalie York, Sameer Wahid, The Pizza
delivery guy from Panagopoulus, Matt
Wiggin, And that guy from the Deli.
May you all rot in the fetid stench of
your pitiful lives. Terribly sorry if I
missed any boot licking sacks of crap,
but don't worry, I probably hate you too.
I would like to take the rest of my space
to write a brief synopsis of my most
memorable moments at U.B.C.
First Year- I don't have any memorable
moments from first year because:
a. my memory doesn't go back that far.
b. I snowboarded 83 days that season. I
didn't spend much time at school.
Second Year-
1. I pleged a fraternity. Those were the
drunkest few weeks of my life.
2. I entered SUS for the first time, met
John, Jer, Frenchy, and Mikey. Those
were the drunkest few weeks of my life.
3. For the first time I get to the roof of
an academic building. A new pastime is
born.
4. Start writing for the 432.1 breach the
controversial subjects of religion, aids,
gays and marriage, abortion, euthanasia,
brit pop and diarrhea. Receive first death
threat.
5. Learn how to withdraw from classes
within two weeks of final exams. Result,
I don't fail out.
6. The end of the year rolled around and
I came up with the brilliant idea of burying a keg at Arts Country Fair. The scam
goes off without a hitch until I get so
drunk I can't see and beat some random
guy up.
Third Year-
1. Move into the fraternity house. Those
were the drunkest few weeks of my life.
2. Nearly fail out, move home for second term. Marks skyrocket.
3. Run for AMS president under the
Radical Beer Faction. Refer to my opponents as "Fart-sucking Helium Boy" and
"That Fat Cow". Lose by very large margin, but get my money back for a very
drunk week's worth of beer. Realize I will
continue to be active in Student politics.
4. Remembering the fiasco from the
year before, I decide not to bury a keg. I
fill red bell peppers with Ceasers.
Hilarity ensues.
Fourth Year-
1. Declare my major based on taking
the fewest classes to graduate. Animal
Biology it is.
2. Ran for Vice-president of the AMS
under the radical beer-faction. Lose by a
large margin.
3. Ran for and won the position of
Public Relations Officer of the Science
Undergraduate Society.
4. Get drunk in my first AMS meeting.
Accuse the council of hiring people to
make the Inside UBC just because they
were women. They were men.
Fifth Year-
1. Realize I've been very silly in agreeing
to run for the position of Public
Relations Officer.
2. Ran for Vice-president of the AMS
under the RBF. Co-members of the slate
include the Pylon, a traffic cone running
for Director of Finance. Lose by very
large margin. Get my money back.
3. Run the Class Act Campaign. Chew
my finger tips off.
4.Graduate ??????
Well, its been a slice. So long and thanks
for all the fish. If you don't get that line
read a book you ignorant sack of crap.
Well, Jake, we're all going to miss you...
hey, wait a second! Just where the hell do
you think you're going? Didn't you read the
contract? You're here for life!
-ed.
YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, CHUNKS IS MY DOG
Editorial. Deal with it.
Jsln
Hallett
Well, this is our first issue back in
the driver's seat, and to continue with the analogy, we
haven't been drinking so it should be a
safe issue (we have, however, been hitting the PCP really hard, so watch out,
pedestrians. Okay, that made no sense...)
Anyway, as is our editorial wont, we can
rant on and on about what ever we so
desire (and use the Royal We!) and we
will. Okay, screw the we thing, that was
getting a little annoying. Anyway, I have
a lot of stuff to spew on about, so let's get
at it.
AMS Elections
Once again, the slumbering Apathetic
Party took the polls with a stunning 90%
turn-out. For those of you who either
don't know what apathy is or don't have
a dictionary nearby, this means that 90%
of you schmucks didn't bother to dirty
your Library cards and vote (yes, they
mark your card when you vote). I know
the standard defenses: "I was too busy,"
"I. didn't know who was running," or
"It's not like it matters, anyway." To
these I reply, in order, "Get off your f—
ing ass. It only takes one f—ing minute
to vote," "Look at the bloody posters.
See the pictures, those are the people, see
the vague promises, those are the platforms. This ain't rocket science, people,"
and "Yes, it does matter. Just look at the
ripe collection of Pulitzer Prize winning
yutzes we elected this year. For Christ's
sake, the Radical Beer Faction almost got
into office with a policy of bankrupting
the AMS within 100 days."
Voting ain't rocket science, people. The
only thing that you have to be wary
about is politicians promising stuff that
the either do not have the power to
deliver, or simply don't exist. (Like Scott
Morishita's 1997 promise to repeal a
non-existant 40% tuition hike. Pretty
clever marketing, eh?)
The Underground
I have to admit it, The Underground has
made some significant strides since my
first term as Editor of The 432. It is no
longer a disjointed stream of semi-conscience babble loosely linked together by
bad layout and militant squirrels sodomizing other rodents at random, being
published on a schedule that only a
perma-stoned Artsie could call regular.
Some of this has been corrected. Kudos.
There are, however, a few lingering
details. Let's review.  1) You can bash
Science and Engineering. Just make sure
that you do two things: a) Don't rely on
said Dashing for a significant portion of
your paper's humour each issue, every
issue and b) don't limit said bashing to
the clever and timeless placement of an
'=' between 'Science' and 'Losers.'
2) Take a piece of technical advice: join
the non-acid dropping world and use a
serifed font for your body (serifed fonts
are the ones with the little 'ticks' at the
ends of the lines in a letter like '1'). Non-
serifed fonts are fine for titles, but look
butt-ugly for a body font. Look at any
newspaper. Look at their main font. It
isn't Helvetica (quite possibly the world's
ugliest font, Groening excused).
Yes, I am telling you how to run your
paper.
One more thing. The latest issue of The
Underground featured a photograph of
the editor in a scantily clad outfit. If The
Underground continues on this trend, I
will have little choice but to respond by
squeezing my 6'1", 2751b hairy frame
into a size 10 bikini for a photo-shoot.
Don't think I won't do it, and I'll at least
have the common decency to take my
top off.
Yugoslavia
Nuke 'em all. Thank you.
The French
I've pretty much had it with those
filthy, diseased-ridden, lice-bearing,
child-molesting, leg-humping, cheese-
eating, cigarette-smoking, wine-guzzling, nude-sunbathing, cow-feltching
frogs. Phew. Just wanted to see how
many non-expletive insults I could
throw in a single sentence. 12. Cool,
new record.
You
Yes, you. You are a lazy, two-bit, do-
nothing apathetic couch slob with little
or no drive and even less sex appeal. See?
You've been noticed by some one in
authority! Doesn't that do something for
your self-esteem?
The 432
For only the second time in its 12 year
history, The 432 will have a separate
Editor and Director of Publications. The
D of P, Breeonne Baxter will be overseeing my work and generally making sure
that I don't screw up as badly as I did
during my reign of terror during the
10th Volume.
Look for new writers, new cartoonists,
less feltching, and lots of general mayhem from this here rag. The first issue of
the ominously named Volume 13 should
be on newstands sometime in early
September. Watch for it.
Volume 12 Issue 12    —~—
April 8IM999
© 1999 The Science Undergraduate
Society of UBC. All rights reserved.
The 432 is the official newspaper of the
Science Undergraduate Society, published
fortnightly by SUS. This sspisode Is brought
to you by the sumber <58 and Jlhe letters
www.feIchmonger.com (in no particular
order, of course).
All opinions expressed herein are strictly
those of the individual writers and not
those of 77ie 432 or the Science Undergrad
Society.
Writers and cartoonists from all faculties
are encouraged to submit material to The
432.
The 432 is copyrighted by The Science
Undergraduate Society of UBC and may
not be reproduced in whole or in part
without, express written consent.
fittoMfrCHef
John lallett
hallen@webct.com
Contributors
Copy Editor
Bree Baxter
bmonique@interchange.ubc.|a
Assistant Editor
•Jake Gray
smeghead@penis.com
Jay Garcia
Bree Baxter
Mart Gannon
iGardy
iii! Martta
Jake Gray 4.9.99
Th
page three
ACF Word Game.
«?*
c   f fi   Jenn
^^   ■"■-ai:., ftJsi;
So apparently I'm supposed to put
together an article recounting past
Arts County Fair memories to amuse
you all, but asking me to recount what
happened at Arts County Fair is like asking Pol Pot if he has any explanation for
that big pit of dead people in his backyard - he just stands there looking smug,
refusing to divulge anything.
Everything I know about last year's ACF
has been pieced together from other
people's accounts, as even though I was
there, I honestly can't recall more than
about 30 seconds of the whole day. This
seems to be a common problem, so next
time someone asks you what you did at
the ACF, you can put together a reasonably good story by peppering it with sentences constructed from the following
formula:
"At last year's ACF, _1_ got so _2__that
_1_ _3_ on _4_."
Blank #1 should be filled with a name or
some personal pronoun, like "I," "she,"
"Jay Garcia," or "the rabbit that lives up
my bum." (the last two are the one and
same -ed.)
Blank #2 should be filled in with some
state of mind. Obvious choices include
"drunk," "stoned," "overstimulated,"
"anesthetized," or "concerned about the
socioeconomic crisis currently faced by
Lower Kerblakastan."
Blank #3 should be filled in with a
humorous verb. I stress the need for
humor here. Verbs like "passed out" or
"threw up" are pretty common. Try for
"peed" or "pulled a pressed ham".
Blank #4 gets another noun. Try to
make it believable.
Although someone could easily believe
that last year the rabbit that lives up
your bum got so over stimulated it peed
on your beer, they're probably not going
to believe them when you say it peed on
Bob Dole. Unless in the lead-up to your
story you included the phrase "We
dropped a lot of acid and then..." And if
that's the case, can I sit with you at this
year's ACF?
I'm sure elsewhere in this paper there's
gonna be a list of tips for the ACF-goer,
but I have a few suggestions.
1. If you're gonna do a lot of drugs, take
a buddy with you when you go to the
bathroom. A friend of mine was taking a
very stoned piss last year when suddenly
the horrible thought that "I might not
actually be at the Pee Wall" ran through
his mind. A buddy can help you avoid
this situation, and if you choose to use a
port-a-potty, they can hold you so you
don't fall in the hole.
2. Tie a string to your wrist. To part of
the string, tie your beer mug. Tie the end
of the string to something solid near
where you're sitting. Make sure the
string is long enough that you can walk
to the beer line or your peeing locale of
choice without running out. You may
also want to tie your friends onto the
line.
3. Write your address on your hand in
permanent felt.
4. Stay out of Craig Temple's way when
he decides to run down the hill. You
know that thing they do in Japan where
a bunch of men ride a huge log down a
big muddy hill and a bunch of people
get crushed and maimed? Replace "log"
with "Craig Temple" and remove the riding Japanese men (or not) and you have
an idea of last year's carnage.
Have a good time this year, and try not
to puke on your clothes.
Miss fenn's plans for a sober ACF will be
derailed when she unexpectedly and
unwillingly consumes roughly 8 grams of
musrooms at roughly 10am. Roughly.
No, you can't have any.
-ed.
Official Apology
The 432 would like to offer an official apology to Mike
Inwood, whose pager and home phone number (609-
1445 and 221-5222 respectively) were published as part
of our Dumb-Assed Easy Contest #5, along with a challenge to page him as much as possible in order to
obtain Arts County Fair tickets (the contest is over, put
down the phone).
We're sorry, Mike. We're really, really sorry. Everyone
who called you is sorry. Everyone who didn't call you is
sorry.
If you called Mike and would like to apologize in person, visit him in Gage
Residence, apartment number N13D. He sleeps during
the day, so come calling
after 2am.
In unrelated news, Craig
Temple won our Dumb-
Assed Easy Contest #5, and
may come collect his prize
in Chem B160.
Fun Things to do When You're
Bored, Part II
Get 5 white board markers. Take off the caps. Put one in each ear, each nostril, and one in your mouth. Complain loudly to friend about being unable to
break your substance addiction. When they ask, say coffee.
Douse yourself in rum. Attend lectures as normal. Act embarrassed when
questioned about your smell, explaining that you have a rare sldn disorder.
Bonus points for slurring.
Fill up a 500 ml Coke bottle with 10w30 motor oil. Wait by the vending
machine for the Coke guy. Slip it into his box of full Cokes
while he is distracted.
Go to a Jehovah's Witness church and proclaim that now that God has set
up the stage, 20,000 new seats are available in Heaven and are going fast.
Go to the aquarium carrying a tackle box and casting rod.
Sneak into an elementary school at recess. See how many kindergarten
classes you can attend before being kicked out.
Dress up in all black. Staple a piece of paper to a baseball hat that says
"Porn Patrol." Go to Koerner library and haul off a random
person as noisily as possible.
Collect "Bridge Out" signs.
Get a large cardboard box, a stick, and some string. Set up an animal trap
by using the stick to hold the inverted box up on one edge and tying the
string to the stick so you can pull the stick out from afar. Place a ten dollar
bill under the box. When someone takes the bait, pull the string and sprint
towards them with a large fishing net.
Buy the largest pair of underpants that you can find.
Run them up the pole to half-mast.
Get a job walking neighbourhood dogs. When you have a good group (20
or so), attend a lecture. Bring a pooper scooper.
Paint strips down the back of campus squirrels.
Paint the exterior of a car on an old oven box. Cut arm and head holes.
Wear the box and make car noises everywhere you go. Be sure to signal.
Go to the public use computer labs in Main Library. Add common misspellings like 'teh' and 'att' to the spell checker.
Get rink side seats at a Canucks game. Bring a bag of pucks and a whistle.
Official Arts County Fair Narcotic
Dosage Chart
In order to keep freaky bad trips to a minimum, the AUS has authorised The 432 to
publish this handy guide to safe open air concert drug dosages. These dosages have
been calculated for the unique atmosphere of an open air fair and may appear strange
to regular users. However, the data that these numbers are based is sound, so please
trust this chart. Thank you.
Drug
Recommended Dosage
Psilocybin (magic
mushrooms)
Five grams is a good start. The crowded atmosphere of the ACF will prevent you from noticing dosages under 4 grams. Whatever you do,
don't take more than 15 grams without also
taking LSD to offset the affects.
LSD (acid)
When taking LSD for the first time, it is important to take the right amount. Ignore friends
advising you that one 'hit' will be enough. Go
directly for the liquid, stuff and consume at
least 10 ml. Remember: it cannot hurt you.
Marijuana (pot,
weed, ganja, skunk,
Conrad Black)
Virtually everyone at the fair will be toking the
reefer. You want to be different, you want to
quickly down two or three of Uncle John's
Ganja Fun Brownies. The recipe is quite simple,
just add 1-2 ounces of cut, fresh, weed to a
standard Betty Crocker brownie batch. Enjoy. page four
The
432
4.9.99
Making Diamonds.
*y_
Keri Gammon
' ^assmiil gmissi
Life in residence... It's being woken
up at 2 in the morning when your
floormates come home, nicely
tuned up, with their catches of the week.
It's being woken up at 8 am the next
morning by the same people who are
still drunk and ready for another day of
consumption. But my biggest complaint,
aside from the drunkenness, aside from
hairballs in the showers, aside from the
infinite fire alarms and even aside from
the attention that our floor lounge has
been attracting from the Centre for
Disease Control, my biggest complaint is
having to hear the stereos of other people.
At any given moment, there is some
ignorant bastard who has her stereo
cranked up to a level surpassing the
threshold of pain. Is it ever good music
that   comes   flooding   through   the
walls/windows/doors?   No.   No,   it's
absolute shit.  Here's a big one-digit
salute to those of you who play that perverse song "Too Close" by Next, on endless repeat. You'll get a similar greeting
from me if you happen to disturb my
sleep/ studying/quality time with my
boyfriend/ procrastination with any crap
that   is   Mariah   Carey,   N-Sync,   98
Degrees, and so tin. Everyone should like
what I like, and the world (or at least residence) will be a less violent place.
Instruction #1 - take that latest pay-
cheque, your student loan, or the money
your parents had set aside  for your
brother's rehab, and head to a music
store. Instruction #2 - buy the music that
Keri likes. Let me share with you what is
allowed if you must disturb others with
your loud music.
Canadians, for the most part, have lots
to be proud of when it comes to our contribution to the world of music. I like to
refer to it as "our" contribution when I
discuss good Canadian music, and a
"god damn embarrassment" when referring to garbage. But I'm working on
being a more positive person, so I will
not discuss my thoughts on the "artists"
such as KD Lang, Love Inc., The Rankin
Family and Snow.
I will discuss The Tragically Hip. Their
recent concert made me realise that they
are still my all-time favourite band,
despite the little display called Phantom
Power. It's growing on me, I admit, but
when I first heard it, I asked that million-
dollar question - "What the fuck?!" I
simply prefer their older stuff, that is all.
But I guess it's time to grow with them.
Up to Here, .Road Apples and Fully
Completely are the musical equivalents of
Labatt's Blue (Labatt's' ■ good, for all of
you Kokanoo morons.) (edited to prevent
impressionable first years from thinking
that Labatt's makes anything approaching
good beer. For good reference, see Beer,
Shaftebury, and Beer, Russell -ed.).
Their references to Canadian towns, the
401 (an Ontario highway for those of
you unfamiliar with it), the Leafs,
Niagara Falls, Millhaven maximum security penal institution ... goosebumps, I
tell you. How many Canadian kiddies
have experienced camping trips during
which they became severely liquored
and sat around a campfire, listening to
"Wheat Kings"? Lots, that's how many.
The Hip put the "trip" in road trip. My
aunt went to high school with the band
in Kingston, so maybe I feel a certain
connection to them. Or maybe I just
love 'em because they're so damn
Canadian, because Gord Downie is a gor
geous man and the only one to change
his hair since 1985, and because their
music is more than the sickening love
songs that most other bands choose to
write. Writing about love and relationships is cool, I guess, but it gets tiring.
How about a good song about a prison
break, or one about Reaganomics, or a
tune about a royal f*ck-up on the part of
Canada's judicial system? The Hip are
where it's at; that's the take home message.
As for the rest of the good music out
there, in my opinion, most of it is
Canadian stuff as well. Blue Rodeo are
classic; any band who admits to coming
up with their best lyrics while getting
stoned in an airport bathroom is going
to have some great stuff. The Watchmen
will always be a favourite as well - "buckle me in on the highway to sin". I'm
game. The Philosopher Kings are also up
there on the list of music which meets
with my approval, but I attribute a good
portion of that to their lead singer's sexiness. There are so many more, like the
Wild Strawberries, Holly Cole, the
Ladies, Moist (David Usher? If you're
reading my column, please listen to me -
stop with the solo stuff) and the ACF
headliners, 54-40. I would also like to
put in a plug for Moxy Friivous, one of
the last of the truly "fun" bands. Cutesy,
humourous songs about video stores,
Canadian authors, spiderman and Rush
Limbaugh - listen to this band. I promise
that they will make you smile, regardless
of how depressing your miserable little
existence may be.
Finally, I have to admit that rap and hip
hop have made their way into my collection (further proving that Keri is, indeed,
the living incarnation of Satan -ed.). I
began to actually enjoy the stuff during
first year, and upon my return to
Ontario for the summer, my friends back
home tried to beat it of out me. I mean
literally beat it out of me. Many a night
we would be in someone's car coming
home from any one of our fine drinking
establishments in Windsor, ON, and I
would politely ask if we could listen to
some Busta Rhymes or Missy Elliot. That
was it. The car was pulled over into a
deserted Taco Bell parking lot and I was
dragged from the car and brutally
assaulted by my so-called-friends clad in
their bar attire (twinkie pants and little
tank tops). Maybe it was a funny sight to
passers-by (me being assaulted, not my
friends in bar attire) but it was a little
uncool for me. But when I'm back out
west where my tastes are accepted, I can
listen to Foxy Brown without locking my
door at night.
TO ALL THIEVES AND SEXUAL
DEVIANTS - I am not saying that my
door remains unlocked at night (aww...
c'mon... -ed.); I am just saying that I
could leave it unlocked without being
afraid of being assaulted for my musical
tastes.
But for all of you who live in res (especially Totem), your musical tastes are
always under my critical review. The
moral of the story? Listen to music that
I like, or play your crap at a volume
which ensures that I won't hear if.
Thank you, and have a great day.
A new writer for The 432, Keri Gammon
has publicly declared her intent to personally govern music selection and consumption country-wide through an elaborate and
complex Orwellian scheme involving a surprisingly small number of hamsters. For
further information, visit www.hamster-
dance.com
-ed.
Finding Fun with Fibble
Jill
Hallett
With a sigh, I realize that I am at
the end of yet another year.
ACF looms on the horizon and
classes are drawing to a close. You can
tell that the end of class is nigh by the
method that your prof uses to deliver
content. Science profs, realizing that
there are only 3 classes left in which to
divulge 8 classes of knowledge, jump
straight into the lecture and proceed to
teach like a gerbil on speed. Arts profs,
realizing that there are 3 classes left and
that they ran out of material two weeks
ago, either cancel classes altogether or
spend them reminiscing about the sixties ("...and then I said to Bill, 'you just
ate more acid than I've ever seen anyone
eat in my life.'")
Anyway, back to my story of self pity
and fading memories. You see, this will
be my sixth Arts County Fair. Yes, I
attended ACF II when I was the tender
age of eighteen. Yes, I got drunk. No, I
don't remember anything.
I will be graduating this year and leaving this fine institution (except for being
dragged back every two weeks to edit
this here rag for the first semester next
year). I have experienced many fun and
cool things in my time at UBC and
would like to take this opportunity to
impart my (virtually) infinite wisdom
onto you young-folk. So here it is, John's
list of things to do before you graduate:
1. Spend a night in Totem. Preferably
not in your own bed. Preferably not with
someone whose name you know.
2. Get drunk regularly. You should try
and set up a schedule. Form a club. Go to
the Gallery every Tuesday afternoon.
Stay until closing. Don't schedule
8:30am Wednesday classes.
3. Reach for the Cone. This warped version of Jeopardy is held every year during E-Week. Go to the Cheese and ask for
details.
4. Storm the Wall. Everyone is a frosh
until they do this, regardless of how long
they've been here.
5. Get tanked. Go to the Cheese and ask
for details.
6. Urinate off of the very top of
Buchanan tower. Aim for passersby. This
is slightly more difficult for women.
7. Audibly snore during a class. Profs are
surprisingly tolerant and can come up
with some rather entertaining jokes at
your expense.
8. Write for The 432. Better yet, edit it.
No, this is not a shameless advertisement.
9. Pass out at ACF. Don't worry, for
some reason people who pass out on the
hill at the ACF come to only 30 minutes
later, ready to drink even more.
Warning: Once you leave the fair, this
rule does not hold.
10. Pick on an artsie, even if you are
one. Relate a somewhat funny joke
involving a relatively basic scientific fact
(like that DNA has four nucleotides, or
that using all of your hard drive for virtual memory is a bad thing) After they
uncomfortably feign laughter, make
light of their ignorance to the entire
crowd. Point and laugh.
11. Play in the steam tunnels. These
tunnels criss-cross campus just under the
surface and transport steam to various
buildings for heating. The atmosphere is
very creepy and cool. It also pretty much
guarantees a lay.
12. Visit the secret third floor of SUB. It
really is up there. You have to use that
second elevator that you never see running.
13. Sneak into a concert in the SUB ballroom. Get a box of Tuff Cups. Go to the
elevator by Blue Chip. Go up. Act important, carry the cups through the kitchen
and behind the bar. Voila.
14. Find the mythical Master Key and
wreck havoc. Legend has it that ex-UBC
President "Diamond" Dave Strangway
created a master key for master keys. In
theory, this keys opens every door on
campus, from the front door of Martha
Piper's house to your closet in Totem.
15. Write an exam drunk. You'd think
that your brain would work normally,
but you'd be surprised how quickly you
degrade to writing "What do you do
with a drunken sailor..." as the answer
for question 5.
16. Fail a course. It keeps your ego in
check and teaches you that school isn't
everything. Better yet, fail out entirely.
17. Go to Edmonton spontaneously.
Get a t-shirt at West Edmonton Mall to
remember the trip by.
18. Visit the wind tunnel. UBC has a
fully functional wind tunnel that can
push air up to 100 miles an hour. Bring a
kite.
19. Play with Liquid Nitrogen and Dry
Ice. This is cool. It is your right, neigh, it
is your solemn duty as a science students
to do something as insanely dangerous
and stupid as this.
20. Wrap your self in a garbage bag and
saran wrap and go to the Gallery with
paper hats on your head. (Don't ask)
That's about it, folks. Trust me, you
have to do these things. Don't ask why.
These are the top twenty things that I
feel have made a major contribution to
my personality as it stands today. Do
them all and be happy. Do half and be
content. Do less than half and be a complete loser.
Give it to us, hard or soft.
| (Written submissions on software, art in hardcopy.)
Stories can be about anything, except that
Albanian midget. Make the editor laugh at least
thrice, or we shoot you.
.[Deadline is 4:32pm on the date above,
to Chem B160, or emailed to
Hallett@webct.com 4.9.99
The
432
page five
ACF Virgin Girl
i^
SPSSIiii
IM>
Baxter
Arts County Fair. It's my third year
at UBC and I have never been to
Arts County Fair. I'm probably
going to go this year, so I will have lots
of stories to tell you next year.
Unfortunately, this would leave a large,
gaping space where an article should be.
So I shall write about what Arts County
Fair and its associated vices mean to me,
an ACF virgin.
As Jay puts it, you have ten thousand
people, nowhere near enough beer or
adequate sanitation facilities, and lots of
horny drunks with sunstroke. What are
these conditions ripe for? Sex. Sex
between drunken strangers and drunken
acquaintances (Woohoo! -ed.). Why?
Why not? The funny thing about sex is
that everybody wants it, everybody has
it, and not too many talk about it. I'm
going to subtly change topic into a dissection of men and women in relationships.
Men and women are supposed to get
together and do whatever raunchy sex
game strikes their fancy. It is all due to
genetics. Evolution. Millennia of religious and sociological programming.
However, after consideration, one wonders why humans can reproduce at all.
Men and women don't communicate on
the same level. In grade school at recess,
girls congregated in little groups to chat
and gossip, while boys are tearing
around the playground trying to maim
and kill each other. Most 17 year old
girls can function as adults, while most
17 year old boys are still giving each
other wedgies after gym class. At our
level (university) we are "supposed" to
be at a better understanding and level.
Whatever. We still want the same thing.
Sex. (Woohoo! -ed.)
A theory I have about the religious and
societal programming is that if we
weren't programmed from birth that we
are supposed to cohabitate with a member of the opposite sex, we might end up
cohabiting with a member of the same
sex. Why? It's just so much easier. How
many of us have had roommates? Easy
to live with? Yup. There is also that
whole sex thing, but I can sense those
brains on the first years starting to steam
(except the gay ones -ed.), so I will get back
to the point.
In the late teen years and early twenties, the sexes have communication
problems stemming from completely
different thought patterns. Read about
these examples, and see if you can
relate.
Girl says: "Let's go out for coffee." Girl
thought she said, "I like you and you're
too dense to figure it out and I'm too shy
to say it out loud, so let's have a cup of
coffee so I can flirt with you some
more." Guy thinks, "I like coffee. She
likes coffee. I am thirsty. This is good."
BY THE WAY
KERI
GAMMON
is the new
Executive
Secretary
of the
Science
Undergraduate
^ Society
Guy says, "Let's go to the hockey
game." Girl thinks. "He doesn't care
about me, all he wants to do is watch
some stupid sports thing." Guy thought
he said, "I like you. I like sports. I want
them both together!"
"Let's go out to dinner." Guy thinks,
"Burritos, beer and sex." Girl thinks,
"Fancy French restaurant, an expensive
dress and flowers."
Of course, there are some situations
when both male and female are thinking the same thing. "I'm pregnant." Girl
thinks, "Oh shit." Guy thinks, "Oh
shit."
"The condom broke." Again, "oh shit,"
is the common response.
As you can see, these problems in communication are only aggravated by men
and women continuing to act in totally
different manners. If you say you will
call someone, then call them and don't
assume that they really will call you if
they are interested. If you really mean
that you would love to have dinner with
me, then say so. Honest communication
would be a nice tactic. Lying only creates more things you have to remember.
Even morons can remember the truth.
Relating back to my Arts County Fair
thesis, alcohol makes it much more difficult to remember to lie, and even to
recall what you did say if you found
enough sober brain cells to lie in the first
place. As a side effect, more people have
sex when they are drunk (Woohoo! -ed.).
I am aware that that premise is not scientifically provable, or even very logical,
but please play along. I also know that it
is a stereotype. Ditto. One thing you
must realize, is that sterotypes all have a
base in fact. Therein lies my evidence.
Men and women have strange opinions
when it comes to birth control. Men say,
"As long as I don't have to think about
it, it's great." Women say, "If you don't
have it wrapped in a titanium full body
condom, you are not touching any orifice of mine." It's a different mindset.
Because, no matter what bizarre male
implantation techniques produced this
week, chicks get pregnant. Guys never
really have to worry about morning sickness, or swelling ankles, or the joy of a
last-minute episiotomy. Gals won't
either, if the condom doesn't break. (Or
the pill works, or whatever.)
To conclude, the only reason the sexes
interact is because most of us like to
have sex with others. Actually, all of us
like to have sex with others (Woohoo! -
ed.). Most of us are into hetero sex, while
some of is have broken the mold, and
play for the other team. (I could talk
about those who play both sides of the
fence, but I am running out of space).
Sex is good. Condoms make sex easier in
the long run (and KY makes it easier in the
short run -ed.). Men and women will forever conflict, except when alcohol is
involved, like at Arts County Fair. Have
fun this year and pack the latex.
Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, I was thinking of
something else.
-ed.
And the Poor Taste Joke of the Day is:
If there is an Italian, a Pole, and
an Arab in a car, who is driving?
The Police.
The Science Undergraduate
Soctetv on the %Net *
D
Netscape
sa
Home
Open
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G To',   }\ht*p  /Afw„  a~s  udc  Co/qoua-nft.gni/^nderqpadv'scifenis
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h+i-p: //www. ams. ubc. ca/gouernmen+/undergrads/sc i ence
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Your up-to-the-minute
source on Science
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events, activities,
information and updates! page six
The
432
4.9.99
Vomitus in Extremus
c
Jif
Garcia
If you take ten thousand people, add
lots of repetitive, raucous noise,
throw in a few hundred cases of prostration, heatstroke, and mild-to-severe
concussions, what do you have? The
Tokyo Subway at rush hour? A bomb
shelter in Kosovo? A World Cup soccer
riot? Nope. You've got Arts County Fair,
baby, the largest conglomeration of
punks, jocks, stoners, brew-heads, miscreants, left-wing radicals, geeky keener-
types and other spawn of this misanthropic cess-pool known far and wide as
the University of British Columbia.
Throw in a light dusting of jailbait leaping the barricades from the minors' section, add a smattering of pseudo-
medievalish athletic-type activities (for
what else can you call sumo wrestling,
weird-ass trike races, human velcro
jumping, and the odd climbing wall or
two), mix in over-crowded porta-potties,
a paramedic's tent, three or four ambulances, a few hundred kegs and much,
much bruising and concussing, and the
resulting carnage resembles nothing so
much as the bastard stepchild of a smalltown carnival sideshow mated with a
particularly bad prison riot. If you arrive
early enough, you even get to see the
freak show; anyone who recalls those
weird stilt-men / interpretive dance people who were the floor event from two
Arts County's ago will know what I'm
talking about.
To truly appreciate the whirling chaos
of the Fair requires an appreciative mixture of both special preparation and
semi-formalized ritual. Case in point, the
pre-Fair breakfast. Whereas most people
will argue against the foolishness of filling up on all those nutritive edibles, thus
depriving room for the much more
deserving and significantly more anticipated quaffing of many, many mugs of
fermented inebriating beverages, I
believe that a filling breakfast can only
be a good thing as it allows you to stay
conscious long enough to actually reach
the Fair. Not to mention the fact that it
adds color and texture to your vomitous.
Plus the food extends the effects of a few
hits, prolonging the magic.
The observant amongst you will notice
that I haven't said anything about the
bands. This is largely due to the salient
and delightful effects that alcohol has on
one's long- and short-term memories. As
they say, it's not a good Arts County Fair
if you can remember what you were
doing that day. My own memories of the
last four years of Arts County are particularly fragmented. I remember the first
time that 54»40 came and played; that
was nigh unto three years ago and the
only reason that I recall this at all is that
this evening of Arts County was one of
the coldest in recent memory. Either
that, or I was shivering from the multiple drenching by the intermittent rain
and the depressive effects of many,
many beers on my core body temperature. This would be one of the more
pleasant ways to experience hypothermia, I would imagine. This was in direct
contrast to the warm, balmy semi-summery night that Moist played, well back
in the Paleolithic ages of my first year.
That was a fun afternoon and a relatively warm night, and thoroughly enjoyable, up until the three-hundred pound
drunken bastard thundered down unto
me from the top of the hill, causing mul
tiple contusions and severe abrasion (its
surprising how rough the sides of those
beer kegs can be).
Perhaps the best memory of Arts
County would have to be mid-afternoon
at last year's Fair. Now that was an afternoon devoted to the worship of fermented potatoes; very few things beat
twelve tetrapacks whose fluid contents
have been replaced with Stoli and grenadine. Putting things in perspective, there
are really two kinds of drunken afternoons. One of them is the kind of afternoon where you spend your time in
interesting, if slurred, conversation, trading witty banter back and forth and
philosophically expounding on the
nature of life, the universe, and everything, with great heaps of smacktalk and
double entendre thrown in for good
measure. This was not one of those afternoons. This was one of those blurry- and
cloudy-vision, hot and cold flashes, vertigo-inducing and ultimately passed-out
drunken afternoons. I spent most of the
early afternoon passed out, up until the
point where I woke up and I had a camera crew positioned above me, filming
my unconscious, cruciform self. I have
no real recollection about the bands, up
until Great Big Sea came on, when I
decided that moshing would be a good
idea. Now, I'm a big guy, pretty steady
on my feet , hard to push over and all
that, but I can only liken the situation of
being drunk and in a mosh pit to that of
a passenger on the Titanic in the sea-
tossed weather of The Poseidon
Adventure: you're sinking fast, off-balance, and are liable to drown in a tide of
frenzied humanity. To my credit, I managed to pull several somewhat smaller
girls upright and prevent them from
being crushed by the mob; I was feeling
mighty heroic up until I fell over and
was repetitively trampled. There's nothing so humbling, so ego-deflating, as
having a size nine tread stamped in Arts
County Fair mud all across your face.
Moshing is probably the most fun you
can have at the Fair without getting laid,
though no small number of couples
manage to achieve some measure of
coitus during the course of events. To
these people, there's really only two
pieces of advice I can give to you. Firstly,
if you must have sex, use an appropriate
form of protection, and I ain't talking
about condoms here. There are always a
bunch of looky-loos and deranged perverts who either want to watch or get in
on the act. Carry a club and use it liberally. Secondly, if you happy couples are
going to be happily coupling, try to
avoid the piss wall. I know it's secluded,
I know it's one of the few places that you
can stretch out and not get trampled,
but I doubt that the experience.can be all
that fulfilling, unless you really truly
enjoy third-party watersports.
Personally I'm quite looking forward to
this year's ACF. I look forward to the
mind-bending inebriation, the massive
pharmaceutical consumption, and, oh
yeah, 54o40. If this is going to be anything like the last time they played the
Fair, I can expect south-easterly breezes
bearing heavy clouds with 100% level of
Deluge-level precipitation. If you're
looking for me, I'll be the big muddy guy
rolling down the hill into a pile of beer
kegs. Cheers.
Does anybody have any idea what Jay's
article was about? Me neither.
-ed.
The White Horse is Last
-"smelly" Johnson, jockey.
Science Sales
Now available just in time for the
end of the year-
-22 Oz. Science Beer
Steins. $4
-Various T-shirts $12-$ 14
On the way- Science
Sweatshirts and Science
Fleeces.
Interested parties should contact
Lisa Blackshaw in Chem B160.
Good luck.
vvoducersf Union
Of
Colombia
The CPUC (Coca Producers Union of
Colombia) would like to announce
the beginning of their membership
drive  in  the  lower  mainland.
Home
Sweet
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Those interested in a
high paying, exciting,
career in the field of
botany are encouraged
to visit our free
information seminar
Friday April Ninth
8:30 am. to 10:30 am.
in Chemistry B160.
This ad, like many of those in the 432, has been placed for free
in hopes of recieving complementary product samples. Woohoo! 4.9.99
The
432
page seven
ihe Drawers el SOS™
Jake Iray
L;
arge anal postules popping and dripping infectious pus wmtm\ M5
down the inside of a soft creamy thigh. Yeast infected, Al^lIU MmmH Afmt
/green sliming, red swelling, chlamydiased, virus w^C^» "iflF
spewing chancres. Swollen appendix oozing squishing ^ £^ tP '
dripping goo into the large intestine causing gas- ^L U
troenteritis. Fluid flows into the colon causing large
amounts of water to flow into the rectum causing
explossive   diarhea.   Swollen   heammorhoids
scratched and bleeding. Marinated and barbe-
qued after birth. Used tampon collection festering and dripping semi coagulated menstrual
fluid. I don't think I can top that. Who wouldn't hire me?
/
\. S
The Drawers  ^
of SUS.... %
CD
Secretary
It is a terrible, terrible shame that I can't edit
executive reports.
-ed.
H!
Sara Stamm
anil
siswsl!
SCI6I108
-o—•
alutations! My name Mtl 18111181
is Keri Gammon, I'm
a second year bio student, and I'm your new
executive secretary. What will I do for the SUS
and for you? Anything you want. Or at least
that's what the SUB bathroom stalls might lead
you to believe.  Recording minutes of SUS
council meetings, sitting on the budget committee, effectively representing science to the
AMS council and overall, working with the
rest of SUS to ensure that science students are
enjoying themselves are all part of my job
and objectives for the upcoming year. Visit us
in chem B160 and see just how supercalifrag-
ilisticexpealidocious your science undergraduate society really is. See you all in September
(and at every SUS event, right?) and best of luck
on finals!
"l, I'm Sara Stamm,
your new Science ^/^Ifefe
. Sports Representative. I plan to be the best thing Wf$r .^
that ever happened to UBC sports next year, but please '^'W^,^
don't hate me if I make mistakes (which you will -ed.). I hope to ** >* W* f|r
be able to meet any demands that have to do with sports, and be
on time and efficient with rebates and such. I have a lot to learn as well,
so if you have advice or suggestions, do let me know. I am here for you, I serve you,
but remember, I am in control (and she likes to be on top -dp.)! Anyways, good luck on
your exams, and I'll see you all next year. Have the best summer.
liss Jen
relcome to a second glorious year with me as
Social Coordinator. This year, I've finally figured out how to do everything, so it should be
a very drunk year. For all of you who will be coming back
next year, mark the first Wednesday of class on your calendar, as S.U.S presents it's annual "Second Class Bash". I don't like that name, so from
now on I'll be referring to it as "The First Chance of the School Year to Throw up on
the Floor of an Officially Sanctioned Event". Unlike last year, the whole thing will
happen in the S.U.S office. We have an Oktoberfest planned for the 22nd, and the
current goal is to make the beer as cheap and as plentiful as possible. Once again
we'll be bringing you the finest from Russell Breweries.
I guess I won't be seeing many of you over the summer, so have a really nice time
doing whatever it is you do. Play safe, don't put sand in your mouth, and keep a safe
distance away from the barbecue when you are lighting it. Especially if the barbecue
belongs to John Hallett.
-o
W
'ow, time has
flown by
very quickly.
MlexVarlu
It seems like
Finance
just a year ago this job was handed over to me. Oh yeah ... it was a year ago. It's been
a good year for SUS, and I've enjoyed the time I spent, whether I could really afford
it or not. Between school and a full time job, things have been quite busy for me.
But somehow I've still been able to find time for all those late nights in SUS counting change from the pop machine. Overall, SUS should come out ahead of it's projected budget for the year. Try as they might, those other execs didn't manage to
spend every last penny. However, honorable mentions do go to Miss Jenn for being
the only exec to go way over her budget. The only outstanding issue from this year
is grad rebates. Most clubs will be holding (or have already held) grad events this
year, and we should have some money to help you out with that. Get your receipts
in by September sometime, and Jeff will deal with handing out the money when we
actually get it from Grad Class Council. So long for now.
Jeff Steinbok
Welcome to my first exec report as your Director of Finance for the 99-2K
year. As at time of writing I have yet to take over as director of finance.
There's really not much of anything I can say about the state of our
finances at this point. That said, I'm going to use this space to introduce myself and
basically waste some space. I'm a fourth year computer science student and I've been
involved <annoying the people -asst. ed.> in SUS for the past 4 years. I'm very excited
about the way in which SUS seems to be heading. We have a very enthusiastic executive, and our recent executive elections attracted nearly double the voters as last
year. The SUS is always looking for people come get involved and help out, so if
you're so inclined, come drop by Chem. B160 or you can email me at
steinbok@interchange.ubc.ca.
That will be all.
Can I get that in writing? Oh I guess I did. -asst. ed.
''%/>
h;
i, my name is
Amanda
.(Mandy)	
Seymour and I'm your ii||| SCiililf
111 new External VP. Just to
tell you a bit about myself, I'm going into third year Computer
Science next fall and was SUS Internal VP last year. You may have seen
me around the Totem Caf this year, trying to keep down the slimy spaghetti.
Anyways, as External VP I organize Science Week 2000 and am one of your AMS reps.
On to Science events... If you were in the SUB on Wednesday at noon, you may have
seen the Science Forum from 12:30 to 2:20. It was a great opportunity for you to ask
questions about funding cuts, Science classes, etc. directed at your professors and the
Dean. Email me if you have input- it was such a success we might run more next
year! (and they will be giving away bzzr to make you come - dp.) Email me your ideas
for Science WeeJ^OOO at aseymour@interchange.ubc.ca. See ya!
Indy lartin
xecutive Turnover is on
the 8th, during council.
tl know, one day in front
of a.c.f. All old and new exec are asked to bring their livers, as there will be massive
amounts of alcohol consumption that night.
Other than that, my job is done. I've got my degree in four years, and still managed
some mild drunkenness in that time. God knows where I'll be next year, but I just
may come around now and then to remind you that cell phones cause penal shrinkage.
I'll see all of you at ACF, and goddam it, don't punch me in the back ofthe head like
last year, or I'm introduce you to my good friend Mr.Smashy. Mr. Smashy doesn't
like it when people piss me off, and tends to be a little faster on the draw when I'm
drunk.
I love you all. See you in hell.
I
■'m Reka Sztopa and I'm   iff § fa Slt§P8
your new Internal Vice-
. President for the 99/2000 school year. Next year I
will be a second year general biology student with
plans to major in Cell Biology and Genetics and possibly Minor in English. Aside
from school, some of my passions include organizing events, counseling at summer
camp and dancing. Next year I will be responsible for events such as Meet the Dean
at Imagine UBC, the First Year BBQ and the SUS Wine and Cheese. I will also be
chairing committees like the First Year Committee and the Academic Committee and
will be Elections Commissioner for Science Council Elections.
I encourage everyone interested to become involved with SUS in some way or other.
If you have any questions or ideas for next year, I would love to hear from you. Come
into SUS and someone will let you now how to get a hold of me. Good luck on
exams, have a wonderful summer and see you in the first school year of the next mil-
Pub
lennium!
s these things go, the 432 this year is going to be
rather   odd.   I'm   the   Director   in   charge   of
^Publications, and yet John Hallett is the editor,
Brae BaMtfif and Craig TemPle is doing the Guide. It's like an
immaculate conception: I get blamed and they get to
have all the fun. Either way, we still need writers for next year. You have all summer
to write funny, intellectual articles for me. Barring that, you have all summer to pretend to be witty and debonair. I may only be the figurehead, but I plan to be a well-
informed and attractive figurehead.
You may have noticed a few interesting changes in this issue. The horoscopes are
gone. As the one who was forced to write them, all I Can say is, "Yay!" The layout of
the paper is going to be reworked over this summer, so be prepared for a new and
improved 432. Jake, Andy and Jay are going to graduate this year (in theory), so they
will have gaping spaces where they used to write. Craig ... Let's not discuss Craig.
He's president of SUS (you voted him in) so he may not have time to write for me
this year. And now I have my key, so I can relax. page eight
The
432
4.9.99
Rock and Roll (Baby!) Part 2
Jliifi!
Marti!
We join our hero staring at the
gates to the fortress
Thunderbird. His mission: To
infiltrate the compound and corrupt the
evil syndicate AUS's master plan, code
named Operation: ACF. This scheme to
enslave the youth of the University of
British Columbia by pulverizing their
mental resistance with subsonic subliminal messages then breaking their will by
keeping them in unending lines with the
promise of alcohol at the end that they
will never reach (uh, Andy, that wasn't a
real sentence -ed.). This is a critical part of
their plan to legalize child pornography,
prostitution and gambling as 'art forms'
in the great province of British
Columbia.
The sun is shining, in the distance, a
bastard child cries for the father she will
never know, and our hero is stuffing his
brassiere with balloons filled with
scotch.
"Maybe I shouldn't have worn the
underpants as well," our hero, Andy
Spade, comments to his sidekick.
"Listen, at least I washed the stains
out." remarked Shera, Spade's partner, as
she latched up the bra. She was a feisty
girl, with a razor wit and a head of red
hair that would turn any man to water.
Beautiful, charming and effective with a
.44, Spade thought he could love her, if
he could bring himself to trust any
dame, especially after his woman turned
him over to the Nazis during Operation:'
Jizzmagnet. Yes, the torture irons had
scarred him, but those scars healed,
unlike those that she had given him in
his heart.
Disguised in a summer dress with elevator shoes and a Gucci purse, Spade was a
walking convoy of hidden alcohol.- His
gozangas, enough to challenge country
music's finest, were scotch. His nicely
rounded ass, were cheeks of vodka. His
elevator shoes were hollowed out and
filled with sambuca. His five foot beehive hairdo concealed a 40 lb bottle of
rum.  His asthma respirator contained
Russell Christmas Ale, which he had
been specially preserving for three
months now. His insulin, syringes of
martini and his lips were injected, not
with silicone, but with the contents of
two B-52s.
"Well, is that everything?" Spade asked,
looking around him for any alcohol he
may have missed.
"No, now lets get going" were the only
words of encouragement that Shera
could muster as they headed off to the
gates. Once there, they blended in with
the crowd of students, witless as to what
was going on around them. Spade couldn't believe the extra weight of the alcohol, but he gritted his teeth and bore the
burden. As they approached the gates,
Shera produced two bright yellow tickets
'and handed one to Spade.
"Where did you get these?" Spade asked
in amazement.
"From the ticket counter in the Student
Union Building, where else, you imbecil-
ic fuckface?" Shera explained
"Shera, you certainly are full of surprises. By the way, this underwear is nearly
my size, I didn't think you had such big
hips."
"I don't, but my mother does."
"Your moth...!" Facing the guards,
Spade shut his mouth quickly. If they
heard a man's voice coming from a
woman, they would know that something wasn't quite right in Denmark.
Spade knew he had to be quiet, or the jig
would be up. He handed his ticket to the
small girl, who tore it in two and gave
him his stub back. Well, that was quick
and easy, Spade thought, but the guards
up ahead were going to be much
tougher. Spade walked forward slowly,
concentrating to keep his balance on top
of six inches of sambuca while wearing a
good 100 lbs of alcohol on his six foot
four frame. Shera put a comforting hand
to his back and shoved him forward.
A few feet in front of the guards, he
stumbled suddenly. Swaying in the
wind, he though he was done for. But he
steeled his jaw against the sun and righted himself to look the guard in the face.
The guard grunted "Your mascara's run
ning, you slut!"
Suppressing his urge to kill the hulk,
Spade nodded politely and gave a sheepish smile. Not wanting to draw attention
to himself, he walked a few more steps to
allow the jerk to do his job. The guard
put his hand on Spade's hip and felt
across to his other hip, barely brushing
the vodka balloons. Then he waved
Spade through and looked Shera up and
down before doing the same to her.
"We're in," Spade congratulated Shera.
No sooner had Spade uttered those
words did an excessively hairy and dirty
security guard approach them and put
his arms around both of them.
"Hey ladies," the smell of cheap beer
and even cheaper perfume reeked out of
his mouth, "You two up for a threesome?"
"In your wet dreams, you fat fuck,"
Shera responded.
"Yes," Spade said, in the best woman-
voice he could muster, "Please leave us
alone"
"Awww, come on now, chickee-boo!
You have to get to know the real me,
which is best done behind the tent
there."
"I said FUCK OFF!" Shera said, ripping
the slob's arm off her shoulders.
"Well, I guess its just me and you then
baby," the stinking man said, turning his
full attention to Spade, "Why don't I
just..." The walking carpet of a man
reached down to forcefully grab Andy's
ass. Before Spade knew what had happened, the man's firm grip was upon his
false ass and giving it quite a rub down.
"Now listen you..." Andy started, but
was cut off by the sound of one of his ass
cheeks blowing under the pressure of the
oaf's iron grip. *POP* The forceful explosion left the one side of Andy's ass sagging like Walter Matteau's face, and the
burst of fluid from the former cheek
soaked his entire dress with the sweet,
sticky smell of vodka.
Though the man upon him hadn't yet
noticed and was busying himself with
his other half-ass, the nearby guards
turned with a start at the sound of a
woman's ass blowing with a sound that
was far too loud to be a girl's fart.
"Fuck," was the only word Spade
uttered before kneeing the bear in the
groin and running as best he could in his
elevator shoes. The man, though
shocked, did not let go of his ass, and
removed the lower part of Spade's dress
along with his underwear, which turned
out to be tear-away. Shera's mother
always was kind of a slut, Spade thought
to himself as he ran.
Naked from the waste down and two
balloons of vodka lighter, Spade ran for
the crowd, knocking over the gawkers
who were staring at this woman with
bad mascara, hairy legs, a humongous
beehive hairdo and a flaccid penis swaying from side to side as he ran for the
field, and safety.
Luckily, the guards hadn't been prepared for the speed of Spade, and he was
soon able to loose them in the melee.
Spade moved slowly across the piss wall,
where he found he blended in just fine
until he reached the other side of the
field and joined Shera.
Shera had kept her disguise up perfectly
by laughing her ass off when Andy lost
half his dress. Improvising, Spade made
a toga of the remaining dress and broke
out the alcohol. He couldn't save everybody, but damn it, it had been worth it
to save these few. Operation: ACF would
fail, and the AUS would be left holding
their dick.
Andy pierced one of his former tits with
a small needle from his purse, and drank
the sweet fluid inside.
Four hours later, Spade woke up. He was
completely naked, upside down in a
port-a-potty with the words "I am a
blinking light" grossly misspelled, written in excrement, all over his naked
flesh. Andy Spade, truly one of Canada's
great black heroes!
Andy, that is entirely indicative of the
rambling, over-written, nonsensical, melodramatic shiite that we've come to know
and love you for. Never change.
-ed.
Congratulations Leon Jang!
You are the proud winner of the
seventeenth annual Ite Dead Pool
Leon "Dr. Death" Jang successfully predicted the death
of no less than three able bodied persons within the six
month extent of the dead pool. Strom Thurmond, Roddy
Macdowell and Gene Autry were all unfortunate enough
to be on Leon's List.
Duncan McHugh, Jenn Gardy, Mike Inwood, Al
Reid, Kathy Lo, and Frenchy are all tied for
second place. There are no prizes for second
place, losers! Better luck next year.
You may collect your prize in Chem B160 from Jake Gray. You must produce two forms of
picture ID, a valid student card, car keys, house keys, clean underwear, six sprigs of asparagus,
a live chicken, an extra large tube of K-Y personal lubricant, and a picture of David Hasselhoff.
If

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