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GOLDEN WORDS
Page 2
Editorial
by Don
This Place Is Starting To Get To Me
I’ve had a few run-ins
with the medical field
in the last few years. To
be honest, it sometimes
feels like I can’t go more
than a month without
somebody wanting to
take a look under the
hood. ‘Under the hood’ is,
as I’ve learned, a medical
term for my freezing,
naked back, partially
hidden by a hospital
gown that has been
recently died-in. Things
are going downhill,
though. It seems like
people are dropping
faster than ever from the
ranks of the healthy, and
into the loving embrace of
a rectal thermometer. On
a related note, I just have
a cold. Stay away from
me, Doctor Horton.
I haven’t had any medical
training, beyond some
recreational use of
Editorial
defibrillator paddles. I’m
not a medical expert by
any means, but I won’t
let that hold me back. I
have a theory why this
is happening. I believe
Queen’s sucks the life out
of you. You don’t notice
it at first, but this school
drains you. You lose your
health, energy, virginity,
and spirit until there’s
nothing le�. Six years in
this place and you’ll be
absorbed entirely by the
school. You’ll become
no more than a wall,
a desk, the Rector—an
insignificant, inanimate
part of the machine.
Can it be avoided? I think
so, but only if you take
action before it is too
late. You need to limit
your exposure. Quit
your extra-curriculars.
Stop going to class. Lock
yourself in your room
and stuff a towel under
the door. Don’t even
think about opening the
window—it’s in the air.
Tell your friends never
to call you then kill
them so they don’t. Then
disconnect your phone
just to be sure. It’s only
four years. You can last
four years, but only if
you collect your diploma
at a full sprint, and never
look back.
I t w i l l c o m e a t yo u
slowly, though. Sneakily.
Somewhere along the
line, a fi�h year starts to
sound like a good idea.
That’s only the start of
the brain damage. The
next thing you know,
you’re fi�y years-old, in
the third year of your
twentieth incomplete
program, and insisting
that your classmates
call you “Mister Bishop”
rather than “the sleeping
old man who I thought
was dead.”
Can you imagine si�ing in
a first-year lecture at the
age of seventy? I think it
would be a li�le like this:
Professor: …which leads
to a decrease in inflation
Me: Hey Professor! I’ve
watched you while you
sleep at night. I can get
to you. I can get to your
poor ailing mother!
Professor: That is
highly inappropriate!
Me: I don’t give a damn
anymore. I’m too old!
What are you going to
do about it, William?
Professor: (sighs)
Nothing, dad.
Actually, that doesn’t
sound so bad.
by Imran
Thanksgiving at Gwen Stefani’s House
Yo u k n o w h o w i t
happens: you’re walking
down the street, minding
your own business, when
someone pulls up to you
in a limo and rolls down
their window.
“Hey. Hey, you, walking
the lizard. What’s your
name?”
“Casey R. Gonzalez,”
I s a y. I n e v e r g i v e
strangers my real name.
It’s common sense. “Are
you Gwen Stefani?”
“Yes. What are you doing
for Thanksgiving?”
“Oh, you know.” I pick
up my lizard, Casey Q.
Gonzalez, and stroke him
thoughtfully. “I think I
might cook this lizard
in my oven. He’s ge�ing
pre�y big.”
“Okay. Well, if you want,
you can come over to my
house for dinner.”
I mull it over. I suppose
a free meal is a free meal,
and we’ve all heard
the rumors about how
Gwen Stefani lives in a
big zeppelin called the
Gwendenburg that she
anchors to the top of the
Empire State Building
when she visits New
York. It might be a fun
time.
“Sure, I guess. Is it
true that you live in a
zeppelin?”
“You shouldn’t believe
everything you read.
I’ll come get you at six
o’clock. See you soon,
Casey.”
***
Gwen Stefani picks me
up in a pink helicopter at
six o’clock on the dot.
“Duck under the rotors,”
she says as I get in.
“They’re coated with
very sharp diamonds.”
“Yeah,” I say, grinning.
“No doubt.”
Gwen Stefani stares at
me.
“No d–”
“I got it, thanks.”
We spend the rest of the
four-hour trip in silence.
***
It turns out that everybody
who’s somebody has
Thanksgiving dinner at
Gwen Stefani’s house.
I’m not usually one to
namedrop, but you
wouldn’t believe the
people I met there: Gwen
Stefani’s parents; Gwen
Stefani’s grandparents;
Gwen Stefani’s husband;
Gwen Stefani’s aunt and
uncle; Ludacris; even
G we n S t e f a n i ’s J a c k
Russell terrier. I mean,
wow, Jack Russell! Si�ing
at that dinner table was
like flipping through a
succulent gravy-soaked
issue of Vanity Fair.
And man, was I ever on
fire:
Gwen Stefani’s Dad:
Casey, try these yams.
They’re fantastic!
Me: No doubt.
(Laughter. Gwen Stefani
glares at me.)
***
Gwen Stefani’s Mom:
Casey, you’re so charming.
If Gwen wasn’t married,
I’d force the two of you
into a big old burlap sack
and just sit back and wait
for grandkids.
Me: No doubt.
(Laughter. Gwen Stefani
glares at me.)
***
Gwen Stefani’s Grandpa:
Hey, Gwen, what’s the
name of that thing? You
know, that stupid thing.
That stupid ska band you
were in.
Gwen Stefani (irately):
Gee, Grandpa, I forget. I
bet our guest knows.
Me (mouth full of yams):
Mm� mmmuh.
(Laughter. Gwen Stefani
gets up and leaves.)
Gwen Stefani’s Grandpa
(laughing): This guy! This
guy kills me!
***
As I was starting on my
sixth slice of dessert pie,
Gwen Stefani’s mom
gazed up at me and said,
“Oh, Casey, can we adopt
you?”
“No,” I said firmly. It
was a flattering offer,
b u t I ’m a l r e a d y a
Clooney, a Knightley,
an Ahmadinejad, and a
Baltimore Oriole. I don’t
need another family
just yet. Maybe I’ll give
the Stefanis a call when
I need a new lung or
something.
Anyway, a�er dinner, we
all took extra strength
caffeine pills and stayed
up for two or three days
playing Scrabble Deluxe.
Quadruple word score?
Brother, the rich sure
know how to live.
Volume 41, Issue 6
Sola Veritas est qui Facit ut me in Merda
Volume XLI
Issue VI
October 11th, 2006
Golden Words, Clark Hall
Queen’s University, Kingston, ON, K7L 3N6
tel: 533-3051
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e-mail:[email protected]
www.goldenwords.net
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Contents copyright © 2006 Golden Words
The opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of the Queen’s Engineering
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Editors
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Phrenz List
Ravenous Libido, Butterfinger McFlurry, tart, Snaggle Deuce, Justice
Pillow, Captain Funk, mustache peter, Caustic Muffin, Wrecktal Fury,
Pink Samurai, cleobis, chicklette the cat, Wreckin’ Logic, Chocolate
Pilaf, Frisbee Pilot, fridge on fire, Soul Brother #73, Flying Fox of the
Yard, pulchra pax, Deipnosophist, SmootH, snowman, IvyClimber,
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Destruction, Compton Kid, Gamebreaker, Milo Minderbinder, Fortuna
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Inconspicuous Elephant, Mr. Amazing, kashous klay,
Banana Hammock Smoothee
On the Cover
I see dead painters.
Staff News
Masthead Wednesday at 5:30pm
Golden Words – Proof of foul play since 1967.
GOLDEN WORDS
g
n
i
n
Two Jocks Take Up Garde
Wordsday, October 11th, 2006
Jay: …and a watering can, and a thing of begonias…
Brad: BEGONIAS! HELLS YEAH!
(The two high five exuberantly. A nearby gardener
faints.)
Hector: I’m sorry, gentleman, but I must ask you again
to please stop yelling; my clientele frighten easily. If
you don’t mind me saying so, I’m a bit surprised that
you two have decided to take up gardening.
Jay: Well, you know how it is. Some of the receivers
from Lynch High are entering the town’s gardening
expo, and there’s no way we’re le�ing those bastards
win! Right, Brad?
Brad: FUCK NO! FUCK LYNCH HIGH!
(Brad head bu�s some guy holding a bag of seed.)
Jay: Plus, Coach says we have to take some time off
a�er accidentally killing a guy at last week’s game.
Brad: MAN-SLAUGHTER-MAN-SLAUGHTERMAN-SLAUGHTER!
Hector: Well, best of luck with the trial and the
begonias. That’ll be $45.86.
Jay: Under $50? This gardening supply store is the
fucking bomb! Gimme five, my man!
(The two high five.)
Hector: OUCH! I think you broke my wrist!
Brad: Jay, you are fucking ON!
***
(Jay and Brad huddle beside Jay’s mom’s garden.)
Jay: All right: we’re going to dig a hole, put in the
seeds, then cover the hole with dirt.
Brad: Right. The old dig-n’-put-n’-cover. Got it.
Jay: All right! Then let’s do some fucking gardening!
Brad: FUCK YEAH! GARDENING! FUCK!
(Brad slams on his helmet and tackles a tree.)
***
(Jay gingerly pats the soil while Brad stands in the
sun with the watering can.)
Brad: I fucking hate gardening. I’m going home.
***
Jay: So, Brad, you’ve been missing some pre�y great
gardening these last few days.
Brad: Fuck you, I hate gardening.
Jay: No, no, it’s great! It’s a lot like football, really. You
get to stand outside with special shoes and a cool hat,
and you look at things for a few hours. It’s kind of
weird, though, since there are no points.
Brad: Then how do you know who wins?
Jay: You just kinda guess. I think I won yesterday,
because the seeds became seedlings, and mom took
me out for McDonald’s.
Page 3
Brad: McDONALDS? Fuck, I’m going to
do me some fucking GARDENING! Here, take
the wheel!
(Brad takes off his seatbelt and jumps out of the car
window.)
Jay: Brad, I can’t drive! Does the right pedal turn
right?
(Jay crashes through a white picket fence into the ocean.)
***
(Brad stands in the sun with the watering can. Jay
approaches, soaking wet.)
Jay: I fucking hate driving.
Brad: Well, I fucking LOVE gardening! Did you see
this seedling? It’s FUCKING GREAT! THE MIRACLE
OF LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL! AUGH!
(Brad falls to his knees and weeps.)
***
The Mayor: …and the winners of the town’s gardening
expo are… oh no, I don’t believe it… the winners are
the receivers from Lynch High!
Receiver #1: Ha-ha! We won, fellows!
Receiver #2: Great! That’s just what I hoped would
happen!
Receiver #3: What a lucky day! Let’s celebrate with
some soda, chums!
The Mayor: Oh, if only some jocks from the town’s
other high school had entered…
The Mayor’s Assistant: What about Jay and Brad?
They had some pre�y good begonias.
The Mayor: Those begonias were shit. No one likes
begonias. This is the worst town fair ever.
(The Mayor rides the bumper cars alone.)
Flying Fox of the Yard
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 4
Volume 41, Issue 6
Dr. Dolittle
Has
a
Brain
Tumor
And It’s Making Him Go Crazy
Census Taker: Hello. I’m here to count
you.
The President: I’ve heard a lot about
you.
Dr. Dolittle: Well, my goodness! A
friendly pigeon!
Dr. Doli�le: My, my! You’re quite a
belligerent ostrich, aren’t you?
Census Taker: N… no.
The President: You’re goddamn right
I am!
***
Katie: This is a lovely restaurant. I’m
having a wonderful time.
Dr. Dolittle: Yes, me too. Tell me,
Kangaroo –
***
Sophie: Daddy, why did you buy me
bird seed for Christmas?
Katie: Uh, no. It’s Katie.
Dr. Doli�le: It’s never enough for you,
is it, my li�le friend? Go ahead! Sing Dr.
Doli�le a song! Chirp chirp!
Dr. Doli�le: Right. So, what else do you
keep in that pouch of yours?
Sophie (crying): I just want some real
food.
Katie: My purse? Um, well, my wallet, I
guess. Some chapstick. You know.
***
Dr. Doli�le: Is that healthy? You know,
for the baby?
Waitress: Care for some wine?
Dr. Doli�le: Heavens, no! This talking
kangaroo doesn’t drink!
Katie: I… what?
***
Mrs. Doli�le: Yes! YES!
Dr. Doli�le: Oh dear God, I need to fix
my life. Lord, I swear, this is the last
time I fuck a dolphin.
***
Detective: Sir, I’ve had some reports
that you’re prescribing Kibbles ‘n Bits
to your patients as a cure for diabetes.
Is this true?
Banana Hammock Smoothee
Dr. Doli�le: Uh… ruff! Ruff!
Detective: Holy shit, I can talk to
dogs!
***
Ray Charles: Oh no! I’m blind! How
will I play piano now?
Dr. Doli�le: Silly bat! Use your sonar!
Ray Charles: Of course! Thank you, Dr.
Doli�le! Thank you!
Congressman Peters, D-NY: Yes!
***
Professor Stillman: Dr. Doli�le, your
powers of animal communication are
simply astounding!
Dr. Dolittle: Honey? Get the bug
spray!
***
Roseanne Barr: Let me out of here! You
have no right to tie me up!
A Bear: Yes, but doesn’t Kant say that
beauty is not a property of an artwork
or natural phenomenon, but instead a
consciousness of the state of feeling the
pleasure derived from having made a
judgment of taste?
Dr. Doli�le: Don’t worry, Willy! I’ll get
you to the ocean! You’ll be free, Willy!
Dr. Doli�le: Play dead. Play dead. Play
dead. Play dead.
Roseanne Barr: I don’t want to go to the
ocean! I want ice cream!
***
***
***
Congressman Peters, D-NY: I’m
going to vote “neigh” on the highway
appropriations bill.
Dr. Doli�le: You want some more oats,
pal of mine?
Dr. Doli�le impales Morgan Freeman with
a harpoon.
Dr. Doli�le: I got one!
Deipnosophist & Bu�erfinger
McFlurry
Wordsday, October 11th, 2006
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 5
Popularity & You
It always happens when you least
expect it. You’ll be taking a shower,
shaving your own business, when
suddenly there’s a knock on the door.
Quickly you run down the stairs,
throw open the door, and yell, “Hey,
it’s popularity!” And it is. Popularity
and its pony carriage has come to whisk
you off to the best party in town. “All
right!” you’ll say, because when you’re
popular, you don’t need clothes.
You get to the party and everything
seems to happen at once. A glass of
Cristal materializes in your le� hand.
The keys to a brand new Mercedes
appear in your right. Grillz attach
themselves firmly to your teeth. All
eyes turn to you and you realize
something very important: popularity
isn’t something you can teach. In fact,
it teaches you. It teaches you that
popularity has some very hot friends.
A big part of being popular is helping
those less fortunate. Go ahead, tell your
beauty-challenged friends that they
look good in those god-awful leggings.
Maybe, just maybe, it’ll give them the
confidence they need to meet someone
special, fall madly in love, se�le down,
and have a kid. It’s an old tradition.
Why do you think there are so many
ugly people?
of Kool-brand cigare�es to chase away
the worries.
Of course there’s more to popularity
than looks. Ha ha, god, we never get
tired of saying that. Seriously, my face
is so symmetrical I only need half a
mirror.
Speaking of brands, knowing which
ones are “good” is half the fun of being
popular. There’s a legend that ordering
the right drink while wearing the right
shoes in the right species of fur coat
bestows you with infinite popularity.
Some say it comes at the cost of your
immortal soul. Those people probably
went to the homecoming dance with a
cardboard cutout of Elvis Stojko.
Popularity is good for more than
making friends. It can also provide you
with valuable life skills. When you get
caught shopli�ing the latest trends, for
example, just play the ol’ popularity
card.
Finally, remember that popularity
is worth working for. Genghis Khan
once took over a fi�h of the world just
so people would know who he was.
Alexander the Great threw keggers
that spanned Mesopotamia. Cleopatra
invited the entire Roman empire to her
senior prom. Yes, they all died before
age 30, but you know the old saying:
live fast, die young, and leave an
incredibly popular corpse.
IvyClimber
“Sorry,” the officer will say, “I didn’t
know you were popular.”
“That’s okay,” you’ll say. “I didn’t know
tasers worked on us.”
As a popular person, there’s nothing
you hate more than competition. Why,
you’d systematically revoke the living
privileges of everyone more popular
than you, given the right amount of
determination and pesticide. But that’s
really the cost of being popular: the
constant, inescapable fear that someone
is out to kill you. Thank god you’ve
always got the refreshing menthol taste
Elmo is extremely popular. You can learn a lot from Elmo.
Howie Doesn’t
Belong in PHIL 115
Professor Deakins: Read Kant.
Howie (crying): Can’t read.
Bu�erfinger McFlurry
Page 6
GOLDEN WORDS
Volume 41, Issue 6
Wordsday, October 11th, 2006
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 7
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 8
Volume 41, Issue 6
hiwhatsup:
Portrait of a Deviant
Last week, Florida Congressman Mark Foley resigned
a�er it became public that he had sent sexually explicit
e-mails and instant messages to teenaged Congressional
pages. It is now clear that there were warning signs long
before the allegations came to light.
May 2005:
MrsPaulson39> Here’s our first question, from
Sarah P.:
MrsPaulson39> And all the boys are in t-shirts and
shorts.
mfoley> hard
mfoley> NICE
MrsPaulson39> “Have you ever been inside the
Oval Office?”
MrsPaulson39> Are you happy now?
Mrs. Paulson: Class, I’ve got a special treat for you
today. We’ve arranged an online chat with our very
own Congressman, Representative Mark Foley!
mfoley> ya i guess
Class: Wow!
mfoley> 1st question: what are you all wearing???
Mrs. Paulson: I know, right?! I’ve hooked my
laptop up to the overhead projector, and as soon
as the Congressman is ready, I’ll start typing your
questions.
MrsPaulson39> Actually, the plan was to let the
students ask the questions…
mfoley> hold on
mfoley> hold on
mfoley> now its my turn right?
mfoley> yup
MrsPaulson39> Good. Now, the next question:
mfoley> no
mfoley> no its cool
mfoley> i have to go now
mfoley> i wont take long
mfoley> to do government
mfoley> hi whats up
mfoley> im almost there anyway
mfoley> bye kids
MrsPaulson39> Hello, Congressman Foley! You
are “on line” with 29 of your youngest constituents!
We’re a sixth grade class at P.S. 133 in Sarasota!
MrsPaulson39> Almost where?
mfoley> send me pictures of you at the beach
mfoley> come on plz just tell me GOD
mfoley> if you have them
mfoley> holy fuck
MrsPaulson39> All right, Congressman. If you
insist.
mfoley> ill friend you on myspace
***
MrsPaulson39> Yes, they’re all very excited to meet
you, too!
mfoley> oh my fuck
mfoley> ya
mfoley> i am so
MrsPaulson39> It’s a pre�y warm spring day, so
most of the girls are wearing tank tops and cropped
pants.
mfoley> fucking
mfoley> who fucking cares
MrsPaulson39> Well, I’m sorry we got cut short.
Thanks for your time, Congressman Foley.
mfoley> ya whatevs
Bu�erfinger McFlurry
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Wordsday, October 11th, 2006
GOLDEN WORDS
The Ballad
Johnny grew up on a farm
of Dr.Horse
Dr. Horse sniffs Byron’s jacket, and follows him to room
number 4.
He rode a silver steed
Nurse Wendigo: Very good, Dr. Horse!
And though he lived idyllically
Dr. Horse: (nips tentatively at Byron’s jacket)
He o�en felt a need
Byron: Hi, Dr. Horse, uh, you might recall I was here
last week about painkillers for my broken jaw. I’m
finding that… is he listening to me?
To know and help his fellow man
And so he told his mule
Dr. Horse: (puts head inside Byron’s jacket)
“I must go forth and heal the world
Nurse Wendigo: He’s probably just checking your
respiration.
I’m going to med school.”
And so for four years Johnny toiled
Byron: Okay… uh, I’m finding that the dose I’m on
isn’t enough. I… are you sure he’s listening to me?
O’er diagram and text
Dr. Horse: (bites Byron’s jacket)
His thesis was on molluscum
Byron: Ow!
(It’s transmi�ed by sex.)
Nurse Wendigo: Very good, your nervous system
seems to be in order.
But on the night that Johnny rode out
For his convocation
He crossed paths with an angry drunk
There was an altercation.
Johnny’s horse panicked and ran
Away from the a�ack
He struck out for the function
Without Johnny on his back.
Dr. Horse: (a�empts to open door with head)
Percy: Oh God! Is he running away?! Is it that bad?
Am I going to die?
Nurse Wendigo: No, Mr. McNabb, Dr. Horse is just
going to get some swabs so we can take some samples
from your lesions. (opens door) There you go, Dr.
Horse.
Dr. Horse trots to the waiting room.
But all of the diplomas
Nurse Wendigo: That’s not where we keep the swabs,
Dr. Horse.
Were given out that night
Dr. Horse: (stares at tree through window)
Though Johnny lay dead in a ditch
Nurse Wendigo: Hmm.
A�er a prolonged fight.
37 minutes pass.
“How can this be?” you may ask me
Nurse Wendigo: Maybe he was running away.
To answer I, perforce
Percy: Oh Jesus! Oh, for Christ’s sake, why?! (runs
screaming from the office)
Must introduce you to
A friend of mine: kind Dr. Horse.
Nurse Wendigo: Percival McNabb? Dr. Horse will
see you now.
Percy: Hi, uh, you’re an expert on molluscum,
right?
Dr. Horse: (swishes tail)
Percy: I, er, I think I might have it.
Dr. Horse: (stares at poster of respiratory tract)
Nurse Wendigo: Take off your clothes and show Dr.
Horse your lesions.
He does.
Page 9
Nurse Wendigo: We’re going to have to burn these
clothes.
Dr. Horse: (eats Hello! magazine)
Nurse Wendigo: No! Dr. Horse! No! That binding
glue is toxic!
Dr. Horse: (a�empts to eat carpet)
Nurse Wendigo: Fine, you’re the expert. Byron
Henley?
Byron: (with difficulty—his jaw is wired shut)
Mmmm?
Nurse Wendigo: Dr. Horse will see you now. Dr.
Horse, please come to room number 4.
Dr. Horse: (pulls apple out of Byron’s jacket)
Byron: Hey! Give that back!
Dr. Horse: (eats apple)
Nurse Wendigo: What is the meaning of this?! What
is a man with a broken jaw doing with an apple?
Byron: It’s for my daughter. I’m going to pick her up
from school a�er this appointment.
Nurse Wendigo: Oh, I’m sure! Who would procreate
with you, you degenerate cripple? You should be
ashamed of yourself, trying to scam poor Dr. Horse
for painkillers to get a buzz!
Dr. Horse: (spits)
Nurse Wendigo: Yes, exactly, Dr. Horse! (spits at
Byron’s feet)
Byron: This is absurd! I’m out of here! If I never see
you again, it’ll be too soon!
Byron did see Dr. Horse again. Three days later, DEA
agents arrested him and placed him before Dr. Horse in a
police line-up. Unfortunately for him, Byron had an apple
in his jacket again, and Dr. Horse gravitated toward him
immediately. Byron is currently six months into a 20-year
maximum security prison sentence for prescription drug
fraud.
For his efforts to combat prescription drug abuse, Dr.
Horse was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
Unfortunately for him, the toxic binding glue from the
Hello! Magazine had been slowly crippling his respiratory
system, and he collapsed at the award ceremony. Luckily,
Surgeon General Dr. Pelican was on hand to resuscitate
him.
Soul Brother #73
Page 10
GOLDEN WORDS
Volume 41, Issue 6
Letters to People I’ve Stalked
s
u
o
Fam
by Deipnosophist
e W. Bush,
y o u , s i r.
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to stalk
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Dear Kurt Vonnegut,
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John Doe
i
Wordsday, October 11th, 2006
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 11
SCI ’10 HIRING
CANADIAN
ENGINEERING STUDENT
CONFERENCE!
From January 2nd to 7th, 2006, the
Canadian Federation of Engineering
Students (CFES) will be running their
38th annual Congress meeting in
Montreal and we want YOU to be a
Queen’s delegate! The CFES is designed
to enhance student life and facilitate the
exchange of ideas/information between
45 undergraduate engineering schools
across Canada. Congress, the flagship
event of the Canadian Federation
of Engineering Students, will bring
together engineering student leaders
from across Canada, as well as special
guests from the US and Europe.
Being a delegate means that Queen’s
will send you on an all expenses
paid trip to represent your school in
Montreal. Interested? Feel free tocontact
Charlie Sco�, the Director of External
Communications, atexcom@engsoc.
queensu.ca. We hope to hear from
you!
HIRING ENGINEERS OF
ALL YEARS
Are you bored of solving equations all
day? Do you have extra creativity that’s
not being put to use? The Engineering
Society Marketing Office is hiring
commi�ee members.
Email [email protected]
for more information and applications.
Applications can also be picked up in
the Engsoc Lounge.
Applications due Friday, October 20 @
5:30 in the Black Box in Clark.
ENGINEERING CAREER
WEEK
Career Services will be hosting
Engineering Career Week for the first
time from October 16th to October
19th. Each day will consist of a series
of workshops, panel discussions, and
information sessions catered specifically
to engineers and run by counsellors,
returning QUIP interns, and industry
representatives.
Throughout the week, the workshops
and panel discussions will have a
different focus. This will be your
opportunity to get advice on resume
writing, interview skills, and job search
preparation from representatives at
companies including Schlumberger,
Schell, Agrium, and the Engineering
Career Week sponsor, Nortel. Space is
limited for each event, so sign up now
using the Career Services Navigator.
For a complete schedule, you can visit
http://careers.queensu.ca/calendars/
allcalendars.asp or http://engsoc.
queensu.ca/society/commi�ees/irc. If
you have any questions, please email
ircommi�[email protected].
Hey First Years! Looking to get involved
with EngSoc, chances to have fun with
positions designed particularly for
you? Queen’s Engineering Society
has multiple commi�ees that will be
hiring first years ONLY, so be sure
to apply. Applications will be due
Friday, October 20th in the black box
or by email. For more information
email fi[email protected] or
check out engsoc.queensu.ca/firstyear/
getinvolved.
Committees hiring include
Fungineering, EngWeek, Buddy
Program, Environmental Development
Committee, Industrial Relations
Commi�ee, Equality Issues Commi�ee
and the Marketing Office.
THE STEERING
COMMITTEE
Still want to get involved with the
Tea Room this year? Have an interest
in business, marketing and student
services? The Engineering Society has
organized a Services Steering Commi�ee
to help review and advise the Tea Room
in its first year of operations. This
commi�ee still requires a chair and a
scribe. These positions are available
to members of any faculty and any
year. Applications are due in the
EngSoc black box, located in the Clark
Hall Alumni Lounge by Wednesday
October 25th at 5:30 pm. If you have any
questions, please contact Dan Bodley
through email at vpservices@engsoc.
queensu.ca.
GRAD SCHOOL FOR
YOU??
Women in Science and Engineering
are hosting a session that will answer
all your burning questions about grad
school: Are you looking at grad school
but not sure about the application
process? Are you not exactly sure what
a grad student does during the day?
Are you still trying to find out if grad
school is for you? Get prof and student
perspectives! Check it out Thursday
October 12 @ 5:30 - 6:30, Dupuis 217.
Dear Non-Existent Friends of Carlie
McCann and Erin Marchak,
I don’t blame you.
- Mark “Friendless” Condos
Hey Queen’s,
Interested in writing a script for a short
movie? Queen’s Amateur Moviemakers
needs scripts now! Send them to quam.
[email protected] before October
18th!
Dear Hakim,
Don’t do it! Your god will be angry!
- Devin
Dear Bryan Logan
Bite me, Bryan Logan
From Brendan (Enemy of Bryan Logan)
Dear Thanksgiving,
FUCK YOU!
- Mark
Dear American Thanksgiving,
You’re next!
- Mark
Dear GW Readers,
Consult page 13 for a Survival Guide to
the Turkey Drop. It rocks.
- Mark (again)
A�n: The World.
I judge you by your grammar. You all
suck hairy monkey balls. Seriously,
that’s gross.
- Carlie
Dear Shariputra,
Form is not different from emptiness;
emptiness is not different from form.
That which is form is emptiness; that
which is emptiness, form. Also, you
owe me five bucks.
All Encompassingly Yours, The Cosmos
Dear World,
Surprise!
332 Barrie StreetBehind
Shoeless Joe’s Kingston,
On
K7L 3T1
613-546-6240
2809 Princess Street
Kingston, On
K7M 4X6
613-389-1249
Dear God,
I’m really sorry about all that nasty stuff
I said about you. Friends?
- In loving fear, Friedrich Nietzsche
Dear, Nietzsche
NO DICE, YOU ATHEIST SWINE.
I HOPE YOU ENJOY ETERNAL
DAMNATION.
- GOD
Dear Diary,
Kevin still doesn’t have a clue who I
am. What do I need to do to show him
that I love him from the bo�om of my
heart? What do you mean you’re just
an inanimate object and can’t respond
to my queries? Fuck you, diary, you
useless sack of shit; I’m going to start
a blog!
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Dear Louis Riel,
What made you go astray?!
- Former Prime Minister John A.
MacDonald’s Ghost
Dear Dom,
Your playlist has more estrogen than
Chown.
- Andrea and Erin
Dear Future Mark
Writing messages to your future self is
pre�y useless. Do not make the same
mistake again.
-“Past” Mark
- Kim Jong-Il
Dear Andrew McWilliams, Sabrina
Samis and Jared Scotchmer,
Happy early birthday wishes to all of
you! Have an awesome week!
- Dominic
Dear Kim Jong-Il
Fuck off. You have no friends.
-The UN
Dear LGB,
You guys rock, unlike Thanksgiving.
- Mark
Thanksgiving is a great time of year for
friends, family and FOOD !!! We all like to
hit at least a couple sets of turkey. But if
you are ready to burn off the celebratory
fat that isn’t fading quite as fast as
Grandpa during a tryptophan induced
couch coma then come to us. We don’t
just sell supplements. We offer training
and nutrition advice to help you achieve
your weight loss goals. And with over 200
products to offer, we don’t try to sell you
a miracle pill, we tailor your diet, training
and supplementation arsenal to suit your
specific needs. And with our already rock
bottom prices and our 10% discount to
students, we will leave plenty of change
in your pockets to fill up the space where
all that gravy used to be.
Titan - the support you need to succeed.
Dear Arts ‘11,
Nice Crest.
-Kisses, a loving upper-year
P.S. Don’t touch your crest. I peed on
it.
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