Posts Tagged With 'duranswers'

Duranswers

Posted by Mannimal in Duranswers, Issue 3 - Full Text January 12, 2012  |  No Comments

The kitten is out of the mitten, but the puss is in the pudding

By: ‘Lucat’

This holiday season, I found myself in a minor identity crisis on account of too many long nights procrastinating in front of claymation Rudolph re-runs. At first, I found myself relating to Yukon Cornelius. For one thing, he has a dog sled, which is pretty cool. Then there’s the fact that he keeps his great facial hair long past the Movember expiration date. But, one Tuesday around 3 during the scene on the Island of Misfit Toys, I realized that the flying Lion King, and not Cornelius at all, was my Christmastide alter-ego. His mind – like mine – is omnipotent. His wisdom, unprecedented. And so, Trinity College, take my advice not with a grain of salt but with the utmost sincerity, for they are not counsels but prophecies.

Dear Sultan of Solutions, My guzzling has gotten out of control this Yuletide. My favourite white shirt is ruined with

wine stain upon wine stain upon…rum stain? How can I remedy this unfortunate happenstance? I look like I’m homeless,

Spilling Problem

Dear Spilling Problem, Open your mind to possibility. The key here is to look not at the stain as a hindrance, but as

a blessing. All of those splotches, they are concept art. Their synthesis is the manifestation of chaos and order, right and wrong, hope and despair in our shared surreality. Embrace the void.

I am the bastion of truth, Gurucat.

Dearest Lucat, I’m not at home when I’m at home. My res room is filled with pictures of faces I do not know.

People in the quad gesture toward me and call me names that aren’t my own. Who am I? Fix my confusion,

Anonymous

Dear Anonymous, You have contracted the most contagious Trin disease. Many Men and Women of College

have fallen prey to side effects of this sick social experiment we call In my time here I have been “That Purple Guy,” “Wolverine,” and now “Lucat ze kitteh.” Sometimes I meow and curl up on the floor. We are all inflicted, but the good news is that your identity is in constant flux. After breaks of two weeks or more you can completely reinvent yourself! Maybe one day you’ll recognize the face in your pictures.

Alternatively, your frenemies are playing a hilarious practical joke on you. Life is just a series of chuckles,

Lucas

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Duranswers

Posted by Mannimal in Duranswers, Issue 2 - Full Text January 12, 2012  |  No Comments

The cat is out of the bag, but Lucas Durand says that the kitten is in the mitten.

By: ‘Lucat’

Gender Neutral Members of College, I am returned from what I gather was a sabbatical of the tequila variety. Before you read on, I advise you to ascertain the location of the nearest liquor- providing establishment (your fridge). Go to there. Obtain liquors of the third kind. Consume.

Guru Chieftain Lucat, I awoke this morning confused. The walls were spinning less than normal. I left my room before dusk and stumbled into what I can only gather to be a room where students congregate and subvert themselves to the will of some old man.

Is Frosh Week over? First Day Sober

Dear First Day Sober, Blunt truth: things are going to be a little bit scary for a while. The amount that you drank in the first day of Frosh Week upset the subtle balance holding together the space/time continuum. Keep your chin up and your profile low. The code word is pancreas.

Best Regards, Lucat ze kitteh

Dear Lucat, strong strong Lucat, I can’t take it anymore. All these people just fucking stand in the quad fucking smoking all the time. Why?! I’m trying to quit! But there’s smoke billowing everywhere. Please help me.

I beg of you, Coughing in Body

Dear Coughing in Body, There’s no escape.

Sincerely, Lucat

Dear Kitty, Living in Owen is lonely, except for my cookies! I dedicate every Sunday afternoon to baking cookies: oatmeal, bran, raisin and, teehee, chocolate chip! Word is you are a culinary genius! Like, wow!

What’s your secret? Lonely Baker

Dear Lonely Baker, My secret ingredient is love [read: “ecstasy”] and care [read: “flax”]. Pounds and pounds of love, heaps and heaps of care. But the real secret is sharing them with someone special, like a drifter or a Massey boy. If you have a roommate, why not take things to the next level? Roommates with benefits are roommates who care [read: “flax”].

Cheer up buttercup, Your friendly neighbourhood LucatDear Wisdom Personified, I have an itch I just can’t scratch. I’m not sure if I’m being rash, but … what should I do?

Make love to toasters, Itchy Frosh

Dear Itchy Frosh, I will not scratch your itch. Also, you don’t make love to a toaster, you make love with a toaster: feel the sleek chrome plated exterior, get kinky and switch it to “bagel” or, if you’re looking for something exotic, English muffin.

Trust me on this one, The Lucat

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Duranswers – Issue 1

Posted by Mannimal in Duranswers, Issue 1 - Full Text January 12, 2012  |  No Comments

Responsible advice guru, Lucas Durand, lets the cat out of the bag.

By: “Lucat”

Greetings Trinity College. It is I. I dutifully come to your aid. Yes, you. Write to me, children, divulge thine interrogation, and reap the rewards of mine wisdom.

Most Scrumptious Lucat, Being a socialist and living in Welch feels like a bad mix. Some students, especially one Newfie bastard, are preaching a confusing melange of Neo-Liberal Fiscal Conservatism. Please guide me.

Blessed be the kitty, Alone in Welch

Dear Alone in Welch, Stop cutting your hair. Smoke mad ganja. You must drown your existential angst in superbeer (beer + vodka shot). When you meet ladies, try not to vomit. One may think, golly, is there anything a woman loves more than projectile vomit? Yes. For instance: a slow dance whilst you stroke her with a giraffe puppet. In short, do what Marx would do. Rise up from below, and get some.

Cigarettes are cool, Lucat

My one, my only, my Lucat, I’m writing to you in most dire of circumstance. You see, there is this person, nay, this demon, roosting in my boudoir. It sleeps never. It fornicates always. How do I defeat this foe?

Impart your divine grace and wisdom, if thou pleaseth, Sleepless in Massey

Dear Sleepless in Massey, Chill. You must defile the one thing they love most. Yes, their socks. Start off subtle: Mismatch the socks. If this doesn’t work, go to Strachan Hall, fill up their socks with ketchup, and nail them to the ceiling above their bed. The blood of a thousand innocent socks will drip down on your poltergeist pal, adding that extra special sauce to their ravenous lovemaking.

Fear is power, Lucat

Oh Lucat! My Lucat! I see these people, they look old and scary. They wear bow ties and Brooks Brothers and have a decidedly sour disposition.

Who dey? Beffudled frosh

Oh, beffudled frosh, These strange beings… they are upper years. Now, these “people” will make mouth sounds (speak) and hand waves (gestures) that are far beyond reason, but worry not. Often spotted with beer bottle in hand or cigarette in mouth, or vice versa, they wish you no harm. In a year or two they’ll likely become a mysterious crumbly, because no one can truly escape the vacuum of the quad and the promise of trincest, sweet sweet trincest.There’s no escape, Lucat

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