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the flying walrus

and Student Government Webnews Printing TransCanadada Motorway Services 2 . Masters Office.MASTHEAD THE FLYING WALRUS Editor in Chief Assistant Editor Health Editor Arts Editor Layout Designer Webmaster Sara Flemington Jessica Bebenek Giorgio Berbatiotis Christopher Stager Elise Haskell Joshua Moore All Photographs by Alex Clarke unless otherwise noted. Special ThanksStong College Fellows.

“I’d like a closed casket. and was the most masterful party animal this side of the prairies. I answer. or come wandering into my dark room when I’m trying to fall asleep later tonight. considering. and give out a plethora of hugs to people I otherwise never would have touched. and notice only the subtle differences between my own sleep-deprived complexion and the formaldehyde glow of her face. and says she was one inimitable wild-child hippy. Some whisper to their spouses. I think about TV or a movie. But a little more with the refreshments. and then I sit on the floor and begin to write. but I mostly feel nauseas and worried that this dead body is going to suddenly sit up in front of me with its arms out grabbing at my face. and don’t worry so much about the laundry piled up in the corner that I was fretting about before I left.” or “don’t you dare dress me in a horrible primary colour like that. those kinds of flowers. says that she loved her family. some familiar. They say “doesn’t she look good? They did a really nice job on her face. I wonder if it isn’t just me who has started to think about their own funeral.” When I finally get home I look in the mirror and touch my cheeks. she is going to take a long. which I’ve just realized has been burned into my mind. my ashes scattered over a waterfall cliff in Honolulu.” The priest who never knew her speaks of her kind.” because if God is real. and anytime anyone looks directly at them? What are people going to say about me? Will this be the day that my parents and close friends finally have the conversations I’ve always feared them having? And then some begin pointing out to their older offspring what is they want at their own celebration. her friends. I think about a book. some strangers. I greet the other faces that have come to say their final farewells to their dearly departed. gazing down at her.” and they crack and sob while holding my arm. and am mostly nervous about dealing with the “I haven’t heard from you in ages.EDITORIAL MODERN MOURNING by Sara Flemington When I walk into the visitation and the closest. loved tequila and dancing. Everyone finds their place and I take your seat near the back so the show can get underway. who is going to show up without makeup on because they know they will be crying involuntarily throughout the entire service. 3 . Once the service ends and the need for conversation begins again. I think about what is to never think again. and I hear parents telling children that “she’s going to sleep now. this isn’t a Chinese restaurant dessert buffet. long nap. and then her sister stands up to speak.” or “I’d like to be cremated. her neighbours. MJM 7 CHATHOUSE 8 POEMS 10 THE DISTINCTION 10 THE SKYLINE CIRCUS 11 FOR MOURICE SENDAK 12 BEFORE WE CHOOSE AN ENDING 13 PROBLEMS ON OPENING NIGHT 13 TAKE HOME MENU 14 NURSE ANGELA 14 NEWS 15 STONG COLLEGE NEWS 15 how many years I probably have left. The sniffles grow exponentially amongst the pews. not just say they will? And. “Alright. Of course I feel sad. I count TABLE OF CONTENTS EDITORIAL 2 MODERN MOURNING 2 VOYEURISM EXPOSED 3 BETTER DITA 4 HEALTH 5 ARTS 7 WE POO SO HARD CAUSE WE DRINK SO MUCH 5 YOU ARE SOMEONE WHO SHOULD NOT EXIST. this kind of casket. I look around and imagine all the low voices and nodding heads are asking: Who is going to show up to mine? Like really show up. the most traumatized family members greet me and direct my attention to the embalmment job.” to the oddly displaced “How are yous” that feel like they might be trick questions. I’m walking around his house being judged on my apparent inability to keep in touch with extended relatives. loving soul.

EXPOSED by Jessica Bebenek The idea for Life Written came to me very suddenly. I think my attraction to the idea stems from it being so much a product of the moment we live in. As a part of our generation and digital culture. We are each writing the history of our relationships every single day without ever giving it a thought. as though I had to pursue it. As most writers will (or won’t) admit.” reads the first post on the site – a scan of my journal. faithful representation of my life as a writer. as a writer. if only on a barely-recognized blog. I always strive to find the truth in the words. most guttural words to the world. As a writing project itself. the hours spent editing text conversations instead of writing essays. cheques. but how can I be sure? My writer’s journal has always been a secret place where I could rant. jotted down in my notebook and then lost forever. texts.com 4 . and I’ll know I’ve really made it big as a writer. and as a person. from inception to completion. but I have to wonder how long things can continue along so peacefully. I love it. Texting has placed us in near-constant communication with each other. through my chosen medium— words. essential. I think my attraction to the idea stems from it being so much a product of the moment we live in. I broke up with my long term boyfriend and unexpectedly began dating my band mate. in human nature—reality is just the next step. The only way that Life Written could ever exist is as a blog or website. everything we write is based off of our life to some degree. I will be as faithful as possible to representing the uncensored self. So despite the weird looks I get when photographing the class attendance sheet. I am surprised by how quickly www. and my freedom as a writer? And yet I couldn’t shake the idea. But I can’t help but find the voyeuristic glee in it all.blogspot. Life Written has become the ultimate extension of my own aesthetic. with. I’ve really begun to realize the astonishing amount of words that I write. write. Really. and. type. Life Written has become my life’s writing. and pictures of handwritten snippets. and most importantly. I’ve discovered that typing is really second nature to us all. I am proud to say that I don’t think I have held anything back yet. among other things. It seemed so important. my relationships. As a writing project itself. muse. So who knows. But I’m surprised to say that it has been freeing experience so far. “What if I published absolutely everything I wrote. grocery lists.” Today is Day 14 and the question of self-censorship has unquestionably been the biggest challenge so far. scans of documents. Shortly before beginning Life Written. As a fairly open person to begin I’ve become accustomed to the ritual—the constant recording and the hour or two each night it takes to edit and post everything to the site. and the multitude of legal issues I’ll no doubt come up against. So many ideas come and go as a writer. Could I really expose myself to the world so utterly without completely destroying my life. I’m going to keep it up. Where does a writer separate herself from her work? How much of our writing is ourselves? Follow my life in words. I haven’t encountered any real-world backlash as of yet. maybe one day someone I don’t know will learn my name. I find myself revelling in throwing open my proverbial trench coat to the world. But somehow this felt different. Gone are the days of four hour phone conversations. I wasn’t sure how to feel at first about exposing my deepest. The next morning I began the project. setting up a site through BlogSpot and creating a thesis for myself: “Life Written – An Experiment In Writing The Self. it has been a doubly intense experience. It is a constant. just waiting for my ex to find out.lifewrittenproject. Everything – journal entries. and text each day. updated daily with typed words. With every text I send him posted on the site.EDITORIAL VOYEURISM. class notes.

BETTER DITTA by Rachel Ying .

you’re this. what if this is all happening around trying not the shit yourself. so butt feels sticky ble inside your stomach expands then then you have for the rest of pops. You wonder. some reason that pulling on your dick soften the blow.is blood from the over use of your semi-solid. You start sweatthis? What if you HAVE to go home know your underwear is wet from ing. How can to see if you missed anything. start to anticipate use of your sphincter muscle the beer shits that Peeing may give you a euphoric feel. It’s one of those they don’t have was definitely piss there. or flush the poo that is sit. There have to wipe of the body. to place the toiThere is blood from the over the night. and you time– the exiting toilet and piss from your ass. might make you feel a little better.HEALTH WE POO SO HARD CAUSE WE DRINK SO MUCH by Christopher Adam Stager You just know when a really bad room? What if you can’t do any of You recognize that sick smell. You feel the shit slowly What are you has leaked out. How can that person be so You finish aren’t holding in a really risky prairie You shouldn’t dog that could solidly poke in and have to live like confident that they don’t pooing. Fuck.and maybe ing. pooey-water battlefield. but you are peeing into a wet throw some TP will wake you up today. Your supposed to tell it isn’t poo. But your back and forth as the stinky air-bub. in that washpooing at the same at all? So you’re about to sit on the room. And after the initial shit. Spray back is Or you wipe the drips that hang on the worse. It hurts. and it stomach gargles. When it is finally over. and then So you’re about to sit on the paper accompany. in a public washroom? A bar washYou fart a lot.butt hair. while doing all of this you are dancing Now. You can smell yourself. but you know you your friends? isn’t a shart. and you But the pain doesn’t go away. but ting in the toilet sphincter muscle today. do just wanna take check at all? And you wash your hands before touching off all your why do they just your clothes (if you can)? clothes for. Nope. burning dribble. There sound right before you shoot out the seat. explosive Hiroshima So you get have to wipe? Do they check ing of peeing and motherfucker. 6 . Anyway. shooting out Nagasaki. shits that you to wipe? Do they after the magnitude of this poo. You think for in the toilet to the next morning. You definitely liquid without any toilet pull off bits of poo stuck to your poo. There ass. so confident that the base of the toilet. and feel out of your cornhole. you wash you will sit there in agony. Then toilet and piss from your that person be you notice your pants are touching lowed by slow. but start to move to your butthole. You lift up your genitals this will be foling it. let paper down. You might be the initial forceful puff the fresh piss of start wiping. And with toilet paper. leave it un-flushed? Just to be an ar. that euphoric feelholding in a wet. It hurts. You sick-poo is coming. rocking rogant asshole? up and exit the washroom. You feel it inside moving around to poo? What if home is too far? butt sweat and clear fart juice that and brewing.

ARTS 7 .

She entered her nickname: BryBry. a picture of a pixelated white house. pink-rooved and picket-fenced appeared in gradients. sitting cross-legged and hunched over the screen on her worn. She opened Internet Explorer and clicked on the “Neopets” tab from her bookmarks. The names of the chatters were a peachy coral against the black. im brian btw christeeny13 >PM to BryBry: haha i m nice . white duvet.P >PM to BryBry: im chritine. You don’t know who they are! They can say they’re anyone. call me crissy tho . I don’t want to catch you on that chat site again. black screen slowly loaded. Talking to people online is dangerous. It’s dangerous. anyone at all! You could think you’re talking to a friend and it’s really some fifty-year-old paedophile who will trace your address and come and find you and rape you. BryBry >PM to christeeny13: hey .) . She unplugged the laptop and carried it to her room. You know it’s for school. Angel. Her upturned face was moony and pale. u know im not supposed to talk to strangers :P im definitely not gonna tell u where i live >PM to BryBry: so wuts an old man like u doing on here? :P BryBry >PM to christeeny13: old people r boring :P lol im young at heart >PM to christeeny13: ive seen u in here b4 tho :) u seem nice so i wanted to chat more w u. Angel looked to her left towards the open laptop sitting on the crowded kitchen table.ARTS CHATHOUSE by Jessica Bebenek “Do you know the kind of disgusting perverts that are out there? Do you? Do you know what they’ll do to you?” Pamela stared down at her twelve-year-old daughter. She noticed christeeny13 was still online. The blank. her purple hot pants popping against her fluffy. Welcome to ChatHouse She clicked on the “Teens” tab and entered the “Teen Flirt” chat room. 8 The room was nearly full and the public conversation was active. I’m not kidding. her cheeks coated in beige freckles. Do you hear me?” Angel nodded. Angel.” Pamela turned on her heel and sauntered into the kitchen. Angel.) a/s/l? christeeny13 >PM to BryBry: hiya :P ur back lol >PM to BryBry: 13/f/toronto u? BryBry >PM to christeeny13: lol ya >PM to christeeny13: 32/m/toronto >PM to christeeny13: ur in toronto too? where? im in mississauga christeeny13 >PM to BryBry: haha no way. The image of a kitten nuzzling a Christmas ornament bounced from edge to edge of the screen. platinum bob. “Don’t make me take away your laptop. “The world we live in is disgusting. their words white.

.” Angel looked up from the screen. itll be worth it babe i promise .” Angel chewed slowly and swallowed. “Angel?! Honey. KD’s done. ill tty tomorrow. “Angel!” Angel went into the kitchen. Angel looked at Pamela through large. She walked up to the counter and picked up her blue ceramic bowl. come in here. She erased her recent history and closed the laptop. but dont show ne1 :P >PM to BryBry: <file attachment> BryBry >PM to christeeny13: mm u look too good .” 9 . “What were you doing?” Pamela held her green bowl and leaned against the counter to shove a forkful into her mouth. u come back for more tomorrow? christeeny13 >PM to BryBry: aw y r u teasing me :( BryBry >PM to christeeny13: u wait for me like a good lil girl. “You know you have homework before bed.) BryBry >PM to christeeny13: mmhmm i like wut i see too >PM to christeeny13: im getting hard just from that pic u sent.ARTS >PM to BryBry: so wut r u up to? BryBry >PM to christeeny13: hey crissy . christeeny13 >PM to BryBry: oh ya? . Simpons are on.) i like that name >PM to christeeny13: i dont like talking to u without seeing ur face tho. You’re going to show me too. round glasses and lifted the teaspoon to her lips. i want 2 get to know u.P >PM to christeeny13: here this is for u >PM to christeeny13: <file attachment> >PM to christeeny13: u like? christeeny13 >PM to BryBry: <3<3<3 omg ur ripped :P >PM to BryBry: i like . her palms pressed flat to the keyboard.) wut r u thinkin about? BryBry >PM to christeeny13: im thinkin i gotta go now babe.) >PM to christeeny13: i luv that pic u sent christeeny13 >PM to BryBry: ill be thinkin of u all nite Angel clicked on the “Facebook” tab from her bookmarks. “Come on. pic? christeeny13 >PM to BryBry: kk..

Midnight Express: mesquite me. Canadian: the chef thinks he’s funny because his national wing is teriyaki. Pucker up Baby: for the worst kiss from a chicken wing you will ever discern. A taste bud trial and error. their hot sauce sucking on your bottom lip. filling in flavours. 10 . Hot Blonde: attractive girls are secretly made of blue cheese. Bloody Caesar: it is said that Caesar was sprinkled with parmesan cheese hot blood spouting as teeth stab his meat. Desperado: makes you wish that your chaps were ass-less. and avoiding sticky fingers. who wasn’t greek but at least the heat and barbeque will hide the chef’s misconception Wings Gone Wild: creole mustard is pornographic if you turn it on just right.POETRY TAKE HOME MENU by Kelly Paoli The weekly business of chicken wings is a tedious craft. Last Samurai: Wings wield katanas slicing my lips into poignant shreds. baby take me to your esophagus on the express lovin’ train Hephaestus: slamming his hammer he flattens Caesar.

These cranes are hungry. How they scurry about their custom kitchens. Making microwave entertainment. Each toppled on the other’s shoulders. The sea has been bottled and bar-coded. Folded up and documented. Taking their T. next to piles. Severed stumps and gutted roots. Puppeteers. The earth has been displaced Forced to roam. They plow below sole-shaped paths. nourishment. 11 . A bridge of elevators smoothes the transition. pull and release Slabs and steel foundations.POETRY THE SKYLINE CIRCUS by Dylan Wagman i Gravediggers push earth into piles. The sky has been photographed. The night sky is the neighbouring condo And the stars go out at eleven. taming the wild wood.V. With angelic agents snorting lines of cirrus cloud. barren. next to piles: Overnight tombstones identify the dead. A penthouse in the basement of heaven. ii A parking garage on the roof of hell Where demonized drug hounds lurk for unsullied prey. The skyline circus. Bringing players to a crowded scene.

Again.POETRY FOR MAURICE SENDAK by Matthew Walsh You’d sit on that rat eaten chair in the kitchen at night writing Rachel and Adulterous Woman better parts. 10 . I’d follow your hoof prints to Haha on the hill to visit the folks & you wash your hands in the stream before you go--& oh. After the doughboys go on the stew you’d sit in your chair. They’d wear dark oceans of mascara in your hands & look right streal. My burly kiss on your brow. how your silver hair caught the wind and swam like a school of minnows. & I know. “I can speak worm now” But at night I don’t wonder where my love is. You’d prowl the night til the sky went periwinkle. you love Mozart with all your heart. coming home from the funkhole whispering. looking back. if your’re hanging Dickinson from the trees in your dringle-way or draining the heel-taps from the table-- because one night I woke. close your eyes to Mozart and sigh. Or prance naked in the forest moonlight to drink water with deer. in bed I heard the door click. & I saw you springing over the mountains.

The sensation of trying on another person’s clothes that you always see them wearing. The way a place you have never been haunts you once you trust everything around you has settled. The choices that always seem so easy from a distance. while you are mostly asleep. Knowing for sure you are finally falling into sleep after lying unsure in the most dramatic heat. The slip of an arm encircling your waist.POETRY BEFORE WE CHOOSE AN ENDING by Sara Flemington Everything we will need to take into consideration. The day you awake to a blushing mist after five days of unbroken rain. The words you repeat over in silence. When the details become filled in and you prefer what you were imagining. and tomato soup on the stove. One light off. The rain that has gathered in your shoes turned warm from the heat of your body. Bringing a book to your face with a redolence of hushed nights. The way looking upwards makes you forget anything down below your shoulders. The feeling of someone you love pulling a blanket up and over your shoulders. convincing you to forget the words that were spoken aloud telling you the truth. calm steady clock. holding down your dreams stirred by the alarm. 13 .

stage technicians- useless! Veronica. worried xenophobe. yellowing. waist. & quilting raw skin thick. & lavish meltdowns. quite rightly. pleasing.. & quivering.ARTS PROBLEMS ON OPENING NIGHT by Matthew Walsh All bawdy chorus-girls daydream enviously for golden heels. xtacy. making new orchards. my neurotic observations panic. Virile washwater. old. hypnotic ivory. yearning zeal. Rufus snails to undress. 14 . eyes fervent glaciers. juvenile kicks. her intimate jolts kill lament. NURSE ANGELA by Sara Flemington Angela’s bathrubs certainly do exhilarate- fragrant grape.. pasty. xquisite young zest. Anchored beneath charismatic disposition. Ignoring Justine’s kissable lips. zig-zagging. Neglected. Vertebra. & unashamed.

com 15 .ca/) SCSG HIRED POSITIONS Positions Available: - Secretary - Programs Chair(s)* - Treasurer - Promotions Director - Orientation Chair* *Indicates a position that may be run for as an individual or as part of a 2 person pair Important Dates: Nomination/ Application: Monday March 26th – Due Thursday April 5th at 3:00pm Interviews: To be held the week of April 23rd to 27th __________________________________ A list of the duties required of each position can be found online at http://www.soares91@gmail. For More Information: Email the CRO Taylor Soares at taylor.ARTS STONG COLLEGE NEWS SCSG ELECTIONS Positions Availabe: - Executive Chair** - Vice Chair** - Athletics Representative - Athletics Director - Commuter Representative(s)* - Partners in Education Director(s)* *Indicates a position that may be run for as an individual or as part of a 2 person pair ** Indicates a position which requires an individual to have at least one full year on the Stong College Student Government or equivalent as determined by the executive committee in order to run for Important Dates: Nominations: Opens Monday March 5th – Closes March 13th at 4:00pm Campaigning: Wednesday March 14th – Monday March 19th Elections/Voting: Tuesday March 20th – Thursday March 22nd at 5:00pm (available through - http://evote. Nomination packages are available in 106A Stong College in the SCSG Office.yorku.html How To Apply: All applicants must hand in a resume attached to their nomination form to room 315 Stong College.yorku.ca/stong/constitution.

we try to hide our flaws. blame our bodily functions on anybody else nearby. decent human beings. But really.ca. obscene. 2012: walrus@yorku. . and foul-mouth all to our filthy little hearts’ content. when we are free to fart. So we don’t want you to hold it in any longer. We mostly approach each day attempting to present ourselves as respectable. hold in our words. Send us your debauched.The Flying Walrus wants your STRAIGHT FILTH. and honest to body words. art. we’re all looking forward to that moment of relief. fuck. and filth by June 15th.

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