The Armadillo is a literary circlejerk where nobody cums.

-BCConfessor

November 11th, 2013

Volume 2, Issue 4

Untitled

Emma Clark

News, or something like it.

HAPPENINGS
Sylvia Abelson

Submit to us! thearmadillojournal@gmail.com

Jalapeno Pretzels Run Out, Be- The News Ticker loit College Falls into Depression Man exposes himself in front of the library; couldnt just masturbate in
the library bathroom like the rest of us. Student picked a great booger. Wow. Peet resident got way too drunk again, becomes a trope. Cafe Fromage opens, becomes another place to get expensive coffee. The Castle opens its doors and becomes another art space that no one goes to. Days get darker, more candles are needed. Courses will be picked this Tuesday at 7:30 am. Wake up early nerds. Womens Center found a mouse. Eeeek! Widespread crippling lonliness. I watched fifteen episodes of the CWs Arrow in two days. OKCupid is the new Facebook. Freshmans long distance relationship finally falls apart. Forgot to call home again! Flower tattoos are the new tribal tats. Farmers Market ends. No more dogs to pet. Booty call goes unanswered- much terrible eye contact ensues at brunch. BSC considers paying students for what they already do. Sound familiar? Girl is finally over her ex, who was totally a jerk anyway. Noise music is dead. Throngs of Beloit students showed up at the Health Center this week sporting glum expressions and advanced symptoms of withdrawal. I dont know whats wrong with them, one clinic worker said, barely audible as a freshman wailed in the background. Several students have shoved $2.50 in our faces, demanding we put it in that sliding toaster thing. We just dont know what to do. Five students pooled together their remaining flex dollars to buy out all of Bon Appetits barbecue sauce, holding up signs that read We brought the BBQ. Now give us back our pretzels, honey mustard, and sanity and Honey must-I make you a pretzel? FUCK YES. An economics major explained, In order to reach equilibrium, the supply must meet the demand. This is far from equilibrium. One grieving student wearing a leftover twister costume and frothing at the mouth told him to shut the fuck up and get me a god damn pretzel. Until the jalapeno pretzels are back, tensions will continue to rise as new customers begrudgingly flow into the loyal mozzarella stick/ popcorn chicken fan base. Meanwhile, a guy in Sheboygan suspects he might be a cartoon character after spotting clouds that look just like The Simpsons opening credits.

The reason this print in this paper is so sloppy and hard to read is that if it werent this wouldnt be an underground paper and if this wasnt an underground paper, youd lose half the fun of reading it.
-Mega Middle Myth, an underground paper published by BSFFA in 1968.

Art?

WORKS
Dylan Davis

Submit to us! Campus mail box 314

i bet on bum fights

all gristle and bone marrow wrapped in beef jerky skin they flap against each other like burlap sacks in a windstorm. gnarled fists land with dull thuds; mouth was already bleeding, gnashing out incoherently. now the over is under, head snapping back into pavement leaves a wet mess. whatevers in him rustles as it leaves. cheers come up but fade off self-consciously. moneys split quickly, but i pause and drop a five in the donation cup.

or the poor mans battle for dignity

Robbery
They stole him. Like he were clothing They stole him. They stole him and I will Never have him back. False freedom He comes home But not for long. Hunters They plot To capture him Again. While I hate And sit And Think. They stole time Laughter Love. Yanked it From underneath Our feet Like a magicians Trick. Well Id like to see them Pull a mans life Out of a hat.

Anonymous

Kasuga-Taisha
Kasuga-Taisha The shinto shrine was demolished and re built every two decades and thats exactly like how every seven years every cell in our skeletons is replaced so you might line up with the new shrine but they stopped rebuilding in 1868 so thatll never happen

Hugo Alvarez

Poem based off of the results of clicking Googles Im feeling lucky button

Sister Dear ventre

a fait longtemps que je mtais rveille par tes doigts sur ma joue, tes chuchotements dans lobscurit, me rappelant de ta tendresse. Ta voix est toujours la seule qui ne meffraye jamais dans la nuit.

Pita Angeles

Audrey Huigens

Eviscerated
Its been a long time since I was awoken by your fingers on my cheek, your whispers in the dark, reminding me of your tenderness. Your voice is still the only one that never scares me in the night.

Epitaph for a Friendship

friendship is not a contract or one-click Facebook connection an entity of unique nature it evolves and grows unpredictably most die quietly of old age without ending signal or fanfare ours cut short prematurely a tragedy befitting Shakespeare friendships need boundaries yet lips touched with passionate kisses summer ended any potential you faulted timing and circumstance some believe in resurrection but Ive never really enjoyed Easter

Kyle Bohrer

Look it Up
A man walks comfortably through the woods, bear feet barely sounding behind him. Trees look upon him with worry. Whats at stake is whats for dinner. Man eats berries. Bear eats man. Berries buried in bears stomach are Actaea Pachypoda. Cardiogenic toxins. Bear down.

Sean Little

The Armadillo is the botched project of a taxidermied armadillo. He likes to drink tequila while singing country songs, but he helps us from time to time too. Submit at thearmadillojournal@gmail.com or box 314.

AUDREY

Plans

Audrey Huigens

Ramblings.

Perspectives

Were on Facebook! /thearmadillojournal

Crooked Beauty is Fucked Up, Yo Anonalie

The Critical Identity Studies Program recently showed Crooked Beauty, a film that traces artist-activist Jacks McNamaras journey from a victim of child abuse, to a psych ward patient, to a mental health activist. McNamara attempts to create an alternative narrative to describe her own experiences with bipolar disorder, viewing it as a dangerous gift as opposed to a burden or life-controlling disease. Going so far as to compare herself to a shaman (which is its own bundle of issues) she claims that someone with spirit like hers is more in tune with the world and by not taking medication shes living an authentic life. While its great that shes finding a way to make peace with herself and her disorder her counter-narrative is a dangerous one- and her belief that there exists beauty in madness fetishizes and romanticizes potentially life-threatening disorders. My bipolar is not a gift. It does not make me more in tune with the world around me, instead it disconnects me from the world, it disrupts, it destroys. I lived the authentic life for years but instead of blessing me with creativity it almost left me dead. Taking medication does not make me duller as McNamara suggests, rather my medication allow me to lead a life that doesnt involve suicide hotline calls and self-injury sessions. Like McNamara I accept that my brain does weird shit but unlike her I acknowledge that sometimes that weird shit is destructive and awful instead of glorifying mania as a source of creativity. After telling my boyfriend that I was writing a response to the film he cautioned that I shouldnt insert myself into my argument, that itd be comparing apples to oranges. But what am I doing if not creating my own narrative? Despite McNamaras belief that shes harnessed her bipolar and transformed it into something useful I know that there exists a part of me thats actively working towards my destruction. Medication allows me to survive, thrive even, and swallowing three pills a day doesnt make my experience less authentic. While some people suffer from overmedication or being wrongly prescribed mood altering drugs, to extrapolate this to a larger community of bipolar individuals is dangerous, presumptive, and relies on vague ethics.

Bangkok Dangerous: Nicolas Cage Fails Again Matt Siebert

Despite all of the negative attention Nicolas Cage receives for being crazy, and starring in questionable movies, he is a good actor. Actually, he is a great actor, just watch Adaptation. or Leaving Las Vegas; hes delivered some award-winning (and award-deserving) performances for some really great movies. Unfortunately for me and anyone else who has ever seen it, Bangkok Dangerous is not in that list of films. Nicolas Cage stars as Joe, a cold-blooded contract killer who is very efficient and very professional. Early in the film, he gives the audience four rules that he lives by: Dont ask questions, dont take an interest in people outside of work, leave no trace, and know when to get out. As he takes his last job, to kill four people in Bangkok, he breaks his last rule. He then breaks his second rule as a result. He meets his love interest, a deaf-mute unnamed woman, who seems to be deaf and mute only for the sake of fulfilling some sort of male fantasy: an Asian woman who cant talk back to you. If you are unconvinced by any of this plot summary, dont worry I think Nicolas Cage was too. He seems unsure that he should have been put in this role, and instead of just trying his best, he gives up. To start, he looked absolutely horrendous, out of shape, slow moving, plus that awful haircut. Not the appearance you would expect from an experienced assassin. Maybe worn-out is the look he was going for, he is supposed have been doing jobs all around the world for a pretty long time, but instead of seeming like an exhausted killer, it felt more like he was an exhausted actor. I honestly think he was just being himself, spewing dialogue written for a murderer. Ill admit, I wasnt expecting this movie to be anything close to good, but I love action movies sometimes just because of how stupidly bad they are. But Bangkok Dangerous wasnt even funny bad, it was bad bad. Theres not a single exciting, thrilling, or action-packed scene for the first hour. Its not until a man gets his hand chopped off by a propeller that I was entertained. The rest of the time is filled with monotonous murders and love scenes that try way too hard to get you to feel something that not even the actors do. There might be a small demographic that will absolutely love this movie though. I have never been out of the country, so I dont know what color other cities are, but I always assumed that they contained the multitude of colors that US cities do. Apparently I was wrong, because I think all of Bangkok has a blue tint to it. So if you love the color blue, watch this movie, it will be awesome. 1/5 (Im giving it a whole point because of that propeller scene)

Vanilla Bitch!

Boring Sex Isnt Worth it.

Erik Carlson

So Im not one to deny sex. I love it (what can I say). BUT boring sex is basically the worst thing ever minus food poisoning. Its like not getting a prize you clearly deserve. Boring sex is defined in many ways. Some people think its sex without love, other thinks its sex that doesnt work (sad penis/butt/vagina/etc). I feel that boring sex is normal sex or vanilla sex. If you arent doing something remotely kinky you arent doing it right. This last weekend one of my friends called my other friend vanilla bitch because hes never had butt sex. I have to agree with the above comment. Thats pretty vanilla, yo. Butt sex isnt even kinky; its a way of life (for the gays and assorted women). Seriously, the worst thing ever is having boring sex. When youre dating someone or you have a lot of sex with someone you must switch it up. You can only ride a dick for so long then you need some sort of other stimulation. Scratching, biting, slapping, upside down, right side up, over the head, heels, whips, chains, masks, butt play, DO SOMETHING to add some spice. In the past Ive had some truly awkward situation when I was trying to add some spice to the bland sex soup. Add spice to fucking so the rest of us dont have to go to the extreme and cause awkward situations to occur. My experience at Beloit is that sex usually isnt boring. Ive only had a few experiences where I was truly yawning and couldnt do anything to help the less-than-entertaining situation. Good job. Im actually proud, so keep it up. Spice up sex. Boring sex is literally worse than not having sex- depending on the day. Please your partner and dont be a vanilla bitch.

SPOT THE RAT

Sarah Lisovich

Im So Chill

My fall break wasnt too exceptional. I accomplished most of what I had set out to do academically, and had a generally good time. I relaxed, talked to my mom, and took a few really nice walks. I knew, though, that I would have to have a least one wild/freaky night to make it a break worth remembering. As I left the library on Thursday evening, I decided to see if anything exciting was happening. I was feeling good about what I had done that day, and figured it would be a smart idea to just let the good times roll. I soon found out that people were watching School of Rock in someones room, and that things were getting pretty rowdy. The person I talked with didnt actually say that things were rowdy, but I knew they would be. Because I wanted to be a cool and fun guy, I decided to skip dinner and shotgun two beers alone in my kitchen before heading over for the movie. Oh, I also helped myself to a pretty generously poured glass of wine between the beers. After my solitary/potentially depressing pregame, I grabbed as many cans of adjunct lager as I could and headed over to the movie. I was in no way disappointed after entering the cool movie viewing party room. Everything happening at the time seemed so cool: people were sitting on the floor, smiling, talking about that one Led Zeppelin song, and enjoying their youth. Not one to miss out on a good time or be considered uncool, I joined in. Eventually, people started passing around a jug of rum. I definitely took several swigs from that bottle jug Mason jar thing. It was really big, so Im not entirely sure what to call it. When thinking about everything I had to drink over the course of about an hour and a half, I can confidently guesstimate that it came close to a nights worth of consumption. After the movie, I told someone that I didnt actually think they were anti-Semitic (I dont remember this), and then headed outside. I knew that I was ready to rule the world. Actually, I was done for the night. Not just done, but really, really done. I decided to head home, and quickly walked to the bathroom. Once there, I just stood by the toilet. I dont know why I didnt take a seat, but I didnt. As I stood there, I knew something was about to happen. The weird thing was that I really didnt care. I

Elishua Kurtz

Keep Reading. This is actually the important part.

didnt care if I made a mess. I didnt care what that would mean the next morning. I didnt care to understand why what was about to happen might be an issue. The caca felt warm and nonthreatening as it slithered into my underwear, and nothing seemed wrong with the relief I felt. While I didnt mind at all what had just transpired, I felt that I should dispose of the doo-doo out of respect for my housemates. Although I tried my hardest to be neat about it all, this task was sloppily done. I fell down a few times, and ended up making somewhat of a mess. I cleaned most of this up, and then went to bed. My sleep wasnt very restful, and I vomited on the floor a number of times. I moved my rug out of the way, though, because I didnt want it to absorb any of the puddle I was in the process of creating. I was in bed all of the next day. When I was finally able to clean up my creation(s), I realized that I had crammed all of my brownie batter splattered articles into my drawer. Thats pretty gross, but still kind of impressive considering the state I was in. Thats it. That was the most noteworthy event of my fall break. On one hand, I think what happened is pretty funny. Never since being potty trained have I cared so little about shitting my pants. In fact, I think this was the only time doing it since I learned that there were alternative to just going whenever you felt the urge. Its funny because this actually happened to me. I dont think of myself as one to abuse alcohol, and would rather get enough sleep than stay up for a late night of something else. This seems like something that would happen in American Pie, but not my reality. Poop is also funny as a thing. On the other hand, the fact that this happened is actually pretty scary. What else could have happened to me? Could I somehow have hurt someone else while in this state? Is it possible for something similar to happen in the future? I dont have an answer to any of these questions, but Ive been thinking them over a lot. I dont want to come off as preachy either. I trust that most people have been told how to drink responsibly if they do choose to consume alcohol. Even so, I feel that my experience is worth thinking about in a serious way. It was messy, dangerous, and pretty embarrassing. Also, I have yet to tell my mom about it. Other than in certain ABDL (ed: Adult Baby Diaper Lover) circles, theres no way I or anyone else can even attempt glamorize what happened that night.

Ethics is made up Im going to be the first one to admit it! Philosophy student I once had a girl tell me she wished I was a doll so she could dress me up. Girl walking out of WAC You cant out of context quote me! Student at brunch Ive stroked worse things. Male student

Overheard at Beloit

Go ahead. Be brave. Commons worker in reference to cupcakes Its really easy to think of baby ducks when someone mentions ducks. Student in writing critique Lets make a list of all the thirstiest people on campus! Female student Do you think a monkey could do this job? Commons worker to coworker