We here at the paper have been feverishly working on our latest issue, staying (once again) all throughout the night to churn out another beast of an issue. Things seem to be wrapping up quite nicely here now, and we will soon leave this place to emerge back into the life of the living to the daylight we regretfully left so many hours ago.
The issue, which will hopefully hit newsstands this Tuesday, is the result of forty some-odd hours of incensed typing and formatting. Arts has members of our staff listing their favorite Bond flick, the Big List chronicles our favorite Thanksgiving traditions, and Sports is full of its usual half-assed commentary and poorly photoshoped gems of the imagination. Several members of the paper staff have forfeited their sanities to bring you readers (whoever you may be) a shocking and important story of sexual abuse on the Rose Hill campus. And, as usual, Edits has everything from a wizzledee to a wazzledoo.
Yes, we here at the paper have overcome alcoholism, hypnotic puppies, self indulgence (well, not really), and drug addiction to deliver you this latest issue, only to fall headfirst back into a two week long routine of bad habits and idiocy. But, worry not readers; our spirits may be low, but our heads sure are high. As long as you give us your meager attention, we’ll keep on churning out this confused rag of optimism and controversy.
So, Fordham, we compel you: give us your tired, your poor, and your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, and we’ll write a 1000 word poop joke about it.