Spring has sprung! Well, it’s about to. I promise. You will soon emerge from your rainproof cocoons and bask in the sunlight, breathing in the scent of freshly cut grass, listening to the soothing sounds of our returning geese.

Spring fever will erupt, and exams will soon be upon us. But most importantly, the prevailing Vancouver darkness will lift, and next thing you know, it will stay bright out until six, even seven o’clock! And that means people will see you. Have you put any thought into what you will wear?

If there is one thing you must know, it is that Dr. Malleus Mimms wasn’t always an awful man. He used to be happy. He used to eat ice cream cones and walk his dog. He used to be a good man. However, even a good man can turn bad if he is pushed far enough.

Dr. Mimms secretly hated the world. In fact, this was such a well-kept secret that even he didn’t know about it; he thought he was content. But his soul knew better; his soul knew his true hatred. He hated the world and he longed to mistreat it because the world hated and mistreated him first. The world broke him.

Download here

No-shave November has been a treasured tradition at Trinity Western University for over five years now. We all know the story. Once a year the males throw away their razors and embrace one of the most fabulous things about being in college: the ability to let grow whatever you want.

This year, after much pondering, and to the dismay of my fiancé, I decided that I would participate in the masculine game of growth. Why couldn’t a girl throw away her razors, waxes, tweezers and depilatory creams and let her hair grow out like a guy? I decided to be the first woman in TWU’s history to do No-shave November. That’s right, hairy legs, armpits and all. I was going to make history! The feminists would be so proud.

There comes a point in every man’s life when he must ask himself an extremely important question: am I gay?

Fortunately, I asked myself this question when I was 15, which has allowed me to live a long, rich, definitively heterosexual life. But a heterosexual man doesn’t have to venture into the realm of homosexuality in order to appreciate a member of the same sex on a more than platonic level—far from it.

People are, by nature, self-centered. It is as much our fault as it is a bird’s fault to fly, a fish’s fault to swim, or a Torontonian’s fault to love the Leafs. We just can’t help it. Take kids for example. They haven’t learned to conceal the evil lurking in their tiny, wicked hearts. For example, little Billy doesn’t care if it’s Timmy’s turn to ride in the front seat. Billy is the centre of the universe, and as far as he is concerned, Timmy is a figment of his imagination – a figment he would gladly roll out the side door of the car if he could get the necessary leverage.

Hey,

We have a new song about how Christmas sucks.
Will wrote it all and I sang along with him.
I dare say we like it quite a bit.

Download here: Christmas Sucks.mp3

One night a couple weeks ago, I broke community standards. Yes, mister Security Man, you can come and assault me with your blunt instruments and your will to power. I admit it. I broke community standards.

Specifically, I fornicated. I went to bed with a notion.

It all started in the library. I was looking through the shelves, struggling to kill time, trying to dull the inexorable pain of my wasteful and meaningless existence. In fact, my roommate even said to me, “Six one-foot-tall Asian children could make use of the amount of space you are wasting.”