Showme April, 1957Showme April, 195720081957/04image/jpegUniversity of Missouri Special Collections, Archives and Rare Book DivisionThese pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Please contact hollandm@missouri.edu for more information.Missouri Showme Magazine CollectionUniversity of Missouri Digital Library Production ServicesColumbia, Missouri108show195704Showme April, 1957; by Students of the University of MissouriColumbia, MO 1957
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THE FRANK SULLIVAN
Quintette
Puckett's
letters
March 7
Dear Editor:
We are trying to revive Shaft
magazine on the University of
Illinois campus. We feel SHOW-
ME is the humor magazine we
would like to pattern ourselves
after rather than using the for-
mat of the old Shaft.
We hope we can intrude on
Swami's personal ledgers (and
send answers to enclosed ques-
tions on your business side) so
they may serve as a guide to de-
termining our own (rates and
figures).
We expect to have the first is-
sue of our magazine out some-
time in May and we will be sure
to send you a copy.
Cordially yours,
B. D. Johnston
Box 672 Station A
Champaign, Illinois
B. D.:
This is a real compliment .
to see our present format catch-
ing on with other editors. We'll
be watching for that first issue.
Shaft used to cut a wide swath
through campus publications of-
fices. Hope you can attract back
a damn good bunch of readers
like Missouri is blessed with.
You're in if the faculty wouldn't
be caught dead reading the mag
in public. We're in.
Dear Skip:
You will be glad to know we
are using four cartoons from
SHOWME in the forthcoming is-
sue of College Humor on sale in
April.
Checks totaling $40 should be
reaching you in about two weeks.
Thanks for helping us make
magazine possible.
Sincerely yours,
Corrine R. Katz
College Humor
10 E. 40th Street
New York 16, N.Y.
arch 22
Dear Editors:
A recent survey in one of the
men's dorms has turned up evi-
dence that explains why so many
M.U. men are inclined to agree
with the author of "I Hate Girls
Even More So" (January issue).
This survey was based on a test
for . . . Each man interviewed
was asked 25 quesetions. These
would be answered neither cor-
rectly or incorrectly, but from
the masculine or feminine view-
point. The normal male should
have answered 60 to 80 percent.
Here's how the guys came out:
36% was the lowest.
72% was the highest.
54% was the average.
Draw your own conclusions!
Sam
(Real name withheld by
request)
TD-4
Columbia, Missouri
Dear "Sam":
Now try it in Gentry Hall.
And when you give us those re-
sults we'll throw a big party for
both dorms . . . at separate loca-
tions.
Eds
March 1
Sirs:
Start with March.
Thank you,
Kala Gresky
Delta Gamma
University of Idaho
Moscow, Idaho
SUSIE STEPHENS
Kala:
Boy are you lucky, financially,
that we thought you meant
March, 1957, and not 1934.
Eds
March 1
Sirs:
I couldn't stand to miss a sin-
gle issue. It's great!
Thank you,
Jo Ann Smith
3600 Griggs
Apt. 64
Houston, Texas
Jo:
We couldn't stand to miss your
check. It keeps us solvent.
Eds
Feb. 6
Dear Sir:
For some time I have been
pushing the idea of a nationwide
humor magazine with a college
motif. Some of the best humor
available is going unseen due to
limited distribution of school cir-
culation.
A publisher is putting such a
publication on the stands and all
I need now is permission from
college staffs to proceed. I will
make payment for written and
art work.
Please specify whether you
wish checks made out to the
writer or artist . . or directly to
the publication.
Please enter a subscription to
SHOWME for me. I will appreci-
ate your immediate attention as
I am pushing a deadline.
Yours truly,
Jack O'Brien, Editor
COLLEGE FUN
810 Westwood Ave.,
Westwood, New Jersey
Dear Jack:
Delighted! Anything except
"Thurlow". Another publisher
has rights to book sale in the
U. S. But better make those
checks out to the individual art-
ist or writer. We're not hinting
that the check might get into
the wrong hands but some edi-
(Cont'd next page)
Feb. 27
Dear Skip and Nanci:
SHOWME is really great.I've just finished the February issue and
I'd like to reach a few hundred miles and pat you both on the back.
I was really ruined for SHOWME in recent years because I first hit
M.U. in 1949-50 when some tremendously talented (and outrageously
wild) people - mostly vets - were running the magazine. I can't now
remember their names but Glenn Troelstrup might have been one of
them.
After a bit in the service I finished up in 1954-55. That was a
great year for me personally - but not for SHOWME. The children
had come back. Or maybe it's because I was older. But as I remembered,
SHOWME was not meant to be the weapon for one editor's personal
(and petty) battles. It was when Chip was editor - and it wasn't even
very funny.
I graduated in '55, came out to Denver, and subscribed. It was still
a pale imitation though ECAT tried new things.
Your salute to the centerspread made me sit up and take notice.
And then came your February issue. The letters pages were filled with
legitimate letters, not phony inventions of a misguided editor. Ego was
well written and made sense. (No personal vindictive.) Then Dick Noel,
bless his heart. I must tell you that I think Noel's columns consistently
have been the freshest, funniest contributions to the magazine, last year
and this. Even my apartment-mate (a Colorado U. grad) is a confirmed
Noel fan. The expose on sorority life was biting and did this old inde-
pendent's heart good. Your selection on Religious Emphasis Week was
excellent. I enjoyed Balladeer's Barstool not because I like folk music,
but because I like the way Jerry Shnay writes. Flynn is tremendous.
The centerspread missed it, the photo layout was sloppy, but you can't
please everybody - especially me who has waited seven years to pat
SHOWME on the back.
Bless your collective hearts for doing whatever editors are sup-
posed to do to fill the book to overflowing with those cartoons. That's
real home-grown originality.
One thing I can do without - Murlin Gene Smith. He smacks of
Chip Martin, frankly. Cleverness with a touch of bittersweet is always
welcome, but Mr. Smith doesn't quite have the touch. After wading
through his stuff I keep asking myself, "Why doesn't the poor boy leave
school if he's so unhappy, there?"
I'm looking forward to the next issue. If you knew what a tremen-
dous surge of pride I feel that Ye Olde Schoole has finally done it again,
you might be tempted to take a couple swallows of my beer right now.
Sincerely,
Roger Goodwin, B.J. '55
455 E. Hampden
Englewood, Colorado
3
tors in the past have been, shall
we say, interested in the newer
cars field.
Two Mercedes-Benz Fans
March 18
Dear Sir and MADAME:
Hot damn, you asked for it
in your Editor's Ego.
WE HATE YOU HATE YOU
HATE YOU HATE YOU!
It is therefore and here-to-with
obvious isn't it, that we hold you
in a certain degree of dislike.
Get our snapping, jumping Ti-
ger offen your damn contents
page.
Hi ho,
Maddog MANEATER
Maddog:
Right after you bannered that
$10 was missing from Campus
Chest collections, your letter ar-
rived . . . written on new, ex-
pensive bright letterhead stock.
Well! The Tiger? Oh yes . . as
James Hennessy, business man-
ager of United Feature Syndi-
cate said, "You have our per-
mission to use the tiger created
by Mr. Charles Schulz. In this
connection, please send us copies
of all reproductions for our files
and inclose the ONE WHICH
APPEARED SOME MONTHS
AGO IN MANEATER."
S'matter, Maddog, we gotta
take care of all of your thank-
you obligations?
Two Tiger Users
* *
Feb. 27
Dear Skip:
You are right! The credit and
non-credit situation is one of the
most messed-upest messes in the
whole student publication field.
(Editors Ego, February issue)
More power to you.
By the way, Rammer-Jammer is
dead. The Mahout is the Alabama
humor magazine.
Tell Dick Noel he is the best
young cartoonist in the country.
John Wagnon
Editor
Mahout
Box G
University of Alabama
John:
Delighted to hear from the
democratic South. What does
Mahout mean? Glad you go
along with our credit ideas cause
a few more editors like you who
read us besides clipping us apart
for cartoons would give campus
mags a shot in the arm (See Ed-
itors' Ego, this issue). Give 'em
hell down there.
Two Egos
Feb. 19, 1957
Dear Sir:
Enclosed find two dollars cash
payment for the remaining is-
sues of SHOWME. Due to the
fact that my father attended "Ol'
4
Mizzou" during the '30's he
strongly recommended that I ma-
triculate at Grinnell, therefore,
SHOWME, best college humor
magazine in the U.S., will be my
only contact with M.U. outside
of the many friends I have
there.
Please get on the stick and
send it.
Sincerely yours,
Joe Walka
Cowles Hall
Grinnell College
Grinnell, Iowa
Dear Joe:
You are the kind of discrim-
inating student we'd like to have
here . . . on the Publications
Board. We're already on the stick,
Joe, only down here we call it
the shaft. And just to prove we're
a bunch of right guys, Jack Tay-
lor and Jean Madden will still
put pop's name in The Missouri
Alumnus.
Editors
Wright Radio & T.V.
filched
HULEN'S LAKE*
THE DEN
Editors' Ego
We were tickled with some of
the comments we received con-
cerning our note here about other
magazines stealing our stuff and
crediting themselves (February is-
sue). We've reprinted one in this
month's Letters to the Editors be-
cause it's from John Wagnon, ed-
itor of the Alabama Mahout (for-
merly Rammer-Jammer). John sent
along the original reprint of Jack
Duncan's "hit me with his crutch"
cartoon. We note that an overall
credit was given separate from the
cartoon and that other editors ig-
nored that and ran it as a Rammer-
Jammer cartoon. Alabama is ab-
solved and we welcome another of
the better campus editors to our
way of thinking to bring a little
more morality among college mags.
But:
A BLAST AT "BLAST"
Just how long is Mr. Krupa up
there running the University of
South Dakota Blast going to scis-
sors up SHOWME cartoon work
and run it as original Dakota art?
In the March issue: Around the
Columns head stolen; Troelstrup,
Flynn and Kinkade cartoons lifted;
centerspread (January) SHOWME
cover layout copied and Filched
page run whole plus THE GREAT-
EST CRIME OF ALL. Krupa's
Blast COMPLETELY IGNORED
OUR APPEAL IN THAT ISSUE
ON LIFTING CREDIT AND
CHOPPED APART THE CENTER-
SPREADS AND USED THEM AS
INDIVIDUAL CARTOONS. Especi-
ally lifted were the Beer Bust, Be-
fore that Date, Walker's First
Spread and That Packet of As-
sorted Miseries Which We Call a
House.
OF ALL THE STOLEN MATER-
IAL, ONLY ONE CARTOON WAS
CREDITED TO SHOWME.
We hear Blast may collect the
SHOWME cartoons of former-Blast
staffer, lovable Swami-ized J. J.
Aasen, for one issue. If so, let's
see those credits.
College magazines are a spring-
board to the nationals, and we
would like to remind some of the
ertswhile "editors" that on the na-
tional scene their practice is what
is known as Plagiarism.
We welcome Alabama Mahout
Illinois Shaft, Penn. Froth, Kansas
Squat and the Michigan State
Spartan to our camp. Any other
moral editors?
We're proud as punch that the
MISOURI PAGEANT COMMIT-
TEE has asked SHOWME to join
with it to bring word on the 1957
"Miss Missouri Scholarship Pag-
eant".
All the information is found in
later pages. Back in 1955, SHOW-
ME cooperated in the same event
and the Pageant committee held
a Sunday afternoon interview in
the Student Union to explain the
scholarship and beauty award info
to 54 interested campus beauties.
If you're interested in running for
MISS MISSOURI, read our story
and drop around for an hour to
see movies and hear talks on how
YOU may win. . . because SHOW-
ME wanted to help put you there.
Just another service of your
twenty-five cent monthly dreadful.
Writing the Contributor's Page
this month, we have a "new"
SHOWME staff member, Noel
Tomas. After being on the verge
of breaking into SHOWME print
all year, Noel has finally made it.
Last month his modern fable of
St. Patrick made it as far as the
galley proofs, but got deleted in a
frantic burst of editorial economy
(prompted by Dick (Scrooge) John-
ston). Noel and Dick Noel keep us
in constant confusion trying to re-
member that one is NO-EL' and the
other Nole. Just one traumatic ex-
perience after the other!
And next month SHOWME pays
its own unique type of tribute to
the funloving Ozarks, weekend ha-
ven of rebellious frustrated stu-
dents. On warm May weekends,
when the prospect of studying and
the scholastic aura of a many-cam-
pused town become too much for
the student body to bear, there is a
mass exodus southward.
Immersed in alcoholic glory on
the Lake of the Ozarks, term pa-
pers and exams are forgotten tem-
porarily, as the student's most
pressing problem becomes how to
acquire a quick suntan painlessly.
Next month, SHOWME takes a
grande tour of the Ozarks, as a
preview for the uninitiated and a
lure for the professional weekend-
ers. It's Ozark time again!
Showme
VOLUME 33 APRIL 1957 NUMBER SEVEN
EDITORS
Skip Troelstrup Nanci Schelker
BUSINESS MANAGER
Dick Johnston
Brack Hinchey
PHOTOS
Joe Van Trump
Charlotte Peaslee
OFFICE MANAGER
Pat Deatherage
Alex Seconk
EDITORIAL ASSISTANT
Dick Noel
Alex Seconk
PUBLICITY
Judy Miller
Margi Foster
SUBSCRIPTIONS
Joanne Petefish
Alex Seconk
FEATURES
Ron Soble
Alex Seconk
CIRCULATION
Bob Clatanoff
Ruth Muff
EXCHANGES
Carolyn Maas
Alex Seconk
ADVERTISING
Gene Scott
Alex Seconk
ART
J. J. Aasen
Alex Seconk
JOKES
Ginny Turman
Alex Seconk
FEATURES
THE GUTS AND THE GUTS
A Showme Review ------------------ 12
QUEEN KATIE AND PRINCESS ANN --- --- 15
YOU CAN BE MISS MISSOURI ----- ----- 18
AN ESSAY ON MAN -------------------- 22
NOEL AT THE STABLES -------- ----------24
HOW TO MAKE A "PEANUTS" TIGER ------- 28
THE COMMODORE'S ICEBOX -----------------36
In Paris, it's frankness,
In the New Yorker, it's lif
In a professor, it's clever:
But in Showme,
It's censored.
SHOWME is published nine times during the college year by the students of the University of
Missouri. Office: 302 Read Hall. Columbia, Mo. All rights reserved. Unsolicited manuscripts will
not be returned unless accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped envelope. Advertising rate
furnished on request. National Advertising Representatives: W. B. Bradbury Co., 122 East 42nd
St., New York City. Printers: Modern Litho-Print Co., Jefferson City, Mo. Price: 25c a single
copy; subscriptions by mail, $3.00. Editors' phone numbers: 01. 3.4053 or 01. 2-9855.
7
Spring is putting on the squeeze
With snappin' jumpin' birds and bees
Queens 'n Tigers, beer 'n sin
Have Ole Nature in a spin.
Around The Columns
It is five minutes to one in the afternoon and I am sitting on a stool in the
Italian Village inspecting a very large, cold, frosty quart of Stag beer. There are
two labels on the quart - one on the neck and one the bottom; the top one
says "The Best Brews in the World come from Carling's", which I am in no position
to dispute, and the bottom one says "Stag" and then, in smaller letters, "Premium
Dry Pilsener". The "Stag" is so you'll know what kind of beer it is, and the other
part is I guess merely a factual statement. Premium Dry Pilsener, it says. I don't
even know what Pilsener is, so if they want to call it Pilsener, it's all right with
me. I'm no trouble-maker. They can call it toadmonger for all I care. Anything. It's
beer.
SEE THE REASON I'm here is
because it's Friday and I just had
a test in Regions and Nations
of the World, which would lead
anybody to drink. No kidding,
it would. I never seen a test
like that one was. Remarkable.
It was one of those deals where
after you walk into the room
and they hand you the test
(complete with super-sonic elec-
tric decoder pencil with blue
lead), you sit there and sort of
look it over (the test) before
starting on it, and you have a
terrible feeling that you have
walked into the wrong class-
room. You think that maybe you
are in a class in which they are
teaching Nuclear Physics or
Armenian or Birdhouse Shel-
lacking II, if you know what I
mean. It's very unnerving. You
notice that the guy in front of
you has developed a severe
nervous tic in his left cheek, and
the guy next to you is clenching
and unclenching his fists and has
got this sort of hunted expression
on his face. It was wild. I never
seen a test like that before in
my life, no kidding.
So I'm in the Italian Village
with my quart of beer. The bar-
tender's name is Wayne. He is a
good guy. I just told him about
this test and he said "Tough",
and "Well, one test don't make
the whole grade," and things like
that which bartenders are sup-
posed to say, you know. If they
don't say them they are lynched
or stoned to death or something,
so they say them. I think they
must take a course in it.
But his name is Wayne, any-
way. He has got a pencil behind
his ear and has got this little
nick in his chin where he must
have cut himself shaving. He is
talking to somebody, and he is
saying "What kind of beer you
want?" The guy wants a Fal-
staff. He gets it. The earth turns
another notch and time marches
on. Downhill.
9
SPEAKING OF EARTH (I just
spoke of it), in front of me is
this blue globe of the earth and
it says "Schlitz" on it and it is
slowly turning around, from left
to right. I am watching it. It is
one of those things with which
you can entertain yourself in a
bar after you get tired of read-
ing if you are under twenty-one
do not ask for beer and no per-
sonal checks cashed and please
no credit and matches free light
up a Kool and Rolled Gold pret-
zel sticks and Schlitz on tap and
Budweiser and Penrose Sausages
and in bottles Stag and old Plan-
tation nuts and Busch Bavarian
and the cigar that breathes and
pitchers $1.25 and Slim Jims and
spaghetti and meat sauce $.90.
If you watch this globe turn
from left to right long enough
you get the feeling that the globe
isn't turning at all but that the
whole bar is. From left to right.
That's just what I've been doing,
but I've stopped now. I'm not
chicken or anything. It's fun for
awhile, really. But while doing
it I poured about half of my cur-
rent quart down my left pants-
leg, so I stopped. Wasteful, you
know. Helping Hitler.
The guy who runs the place is
named Clair and right now he
is standing in front of the cash
register counting the till, which
is a very dangerous thing to be
doing, if you stop to think of it.
The guy on my right is telling
the guy on his right about some
other guy who can chug a can of
beer in three seconds, and the
guy on my left is Doc Shaw and
he is telling the guy on his left
that he is majoring in Rural His-
tory, which is a lie.
Just now some guy somewhere
put a dime in the juke-box and
that marvelous invention is pro-
ducing the recorded voice of Har-
ry Belafonte singing something
stimulating. Lots of electric gui-
tars and hollering and drums and
carrying on. Harry sounds like
he's in a cave.
Hell, he shouldn't have done
that - what he did now, I mean.
He put another dime in the juke-
box and Julie London is singing
and it sounds real soft and misty
and I feel like I'm eighty years
old.
BUT IT'S FRIDAY and I am in
the Italian Vilage and I have a
little over half a pack of ciga-
tettes and enough coin for three
more quarts.
I'm satisfied. I couldn't ask for
no more.
Until next Friday.
THIS MONTH is the month of
April. Seriously, it is. Anybody
will tell you. April. It's all the
rage. Spring is here (it's actually
been here for two or three weeks,
officially, you know, but not so
as you'd notice it and the birds
are out and the flowers are out
and Harry Carey is making like
the exhibition games are the
Olympics and the dollies are be-
ginning to shed those hairy look-
ing socks and some fools are
trying to go swimming and it's
getting practically impossible to
study nights and the beer tastes
better somehow and edieandbill
are laughing at the funnylimping
balloonman and rolling in pud-
wonderfuls and the whole damn
season is getting out of hand.
Crazy.
Spring, you naturally realize
is, when The Whole World Comes
Alive. This includes everything
and everybody - even caterpil-
lars and ashtrays and old scar-
eared tomcats and Red Foley and
bowling machines and wrist
watches and old ladies with um-
brellas.
But it does. Come alive, I mean.
Everything. And it's a pretty
good deal, really, if you stop to
consider it.
Except for one thing. Keep
your eyes on the cemetery.
THE FOLLOWING is one of
those small items you find in the
back pages of newspapers which
are often funnier than hell and
which - from my standpoint -
are very convenient because I'm
extremely lazy and . . . see . .
all I have to do is . . . well
yes.
Therefore hence ergo hoc spit:
ABILENE, Tex. (AP) - Doyle
Roberts unwrapped the new au-
to license plates he purchased
yesterday and found a note be-
tween them which read: "Help,
I'm being held prisoner." The
plates are made by inmates of
the Texas State Penitentiary at
Huntsville.
10
See what I mean?
ONE OF THESE DAMN
DAYS I'm gonna learn to spell
Ardy Freidbaum's name right.
RIGHT NOW I'm sitting in
front of the television set. While
ago I told you I was sitting in
the Italian Village, and I was,
but I'm not anymore. I'm sitting
in front of the television watch-
ing ol' Perry Como. You know
ol' Perry Como. Joe Relax. He
is so relaxed he practically col-
lapses on the set. But he has got
these guests, you know, and one
of them tonight is Anna Marie
Albespaghetti, and she is sing-
ing. This opera garbage. She is
going wild. Later on Sig Seizure
will be on, and if I'm still here
I'll tell you about it.
YOU KNOW, nowadays us
Americans are so overwhelmed
by reading matter of all kinds
that we can hardly be relied up-
on to judge rationally anymore.
We got girlie magazines, west-
erns, scandal sheets, true confes-
sions, science fiction, and, so
many I couldn't begin to list
them. But the really interesting
- and disgusting - point about
them is that in any of the cate-
gories - love, western, or what
have you, you continuously run
into these trite phrases and
speeches which you've been read-
ing over and over ever since you
can remember. You see and hear
them all the time - in movies,
on television, radio, in newspa-
pers, but most of all in the pulp
magazines that seem to be en-
gulfing our whole culture.
For the past few years I have
been keeping my eye out for
them (you can hardly miss them),
and the following is my version
of all the trite speeches rolled
into one, for each type of maga-
zine.
ARMY LIFE-
"Awright, roll call, men. An-
swer up. Jones, O'Reilly, Hor-
witz, Chang, Pizzari, Washington,
Steinburger, Wellington . "
RURAL-
"Well, I tell yuh what, Jamie
- if'n you straighten up and
face this like a man, I'll get yuh
a new dog, and he'll be twict as
good as pore ol' Rover . . ."
LOVE-
"Darling, even if we're sepa-
rated by oceans, you'll always
be with me . . .here. No, dam-
mit - not there, here, in my
heart . . ."
COLLEGE LIFE-
"Look dad, I really hit the
books last night, so let's go beer
down. Then we'll dig out for the
house, chow, watch the tube,
catch a flick, grab a little sack . "
WESTERN-
"Awright Bart - you may
think your fast gun is pretty
fast, but my fast gun is so much
faster than your fast gun I could
even use my second fastest gun
and it'd still be so much faster
than your fastest gun . . "
SCIENCE FICTION-
Gentlemen, my analysis isn't
quite finished, but from what I've
found so far I can tell you that
this . . . thing . . we are dealing
with is not of our earth . "
MYSTERY-
"Strange indeed, Hanson, that
you just happened to have a
$10,000,000 insurance policy on
your aunt. And made out only
two days before the . uh .
accident, too . .
SPORT-
"Say skipper, I know I've got
a broken leg, but if you want to
let me pinch-hit for Blake, well,
I'll sure . . . no, no, the cast won't
get in the way at all . . . "
IF THEY don't take that guy
off television who says "I feel
great - and Anacin doesn't up-
set my stomach!", I'm going to
have a fit.
IN PASSING-
In Cleveland, cops surprised 40
men playing cards in an eight by
ten foot room, bagged two packs
of cards and the 17 gamblers who
couldn't squeeze past the door or
dive through the window, later
released their catch on insuffici-
ent evidence after they examined
the cards, discovered they were
printed in Spanish, decided it
would be impossible to explain
the game to the judge.
In Cary, N.C., accused by sher-
iff's deputies of knifing an ac-
quaintance during a fight over a
woman, Early Montague shame-
facedly explained: "Yeah, I cut
him, but my big blade broke and
I couldn't get the little blade
open to cut some more."
DO YOU ever listen to the ra-
dio in the morning right after
you get up? I do - I mean I
used to. I don't anymore. KFRU
has got Boris Karloff on every
morning at quater to eight. No
stuff - Boris Karloff. Listen to
it sometime. Really start the day
off right. Man. Next they'll start
broadcasting funerals. At meal
time.
ONE OF THE MORE humor-
ous aspects of last months TV
"Emmy" awards was that, in one
category, they had Tennessee
Ernie and Bishop Fulton J. Sheen
competing against one another.
Luckily, neither won.
If you get a chance, don't fail
to kill all the rabbits you can.
After all, next week's Easter, and
we don't want to get to the place
where all these wonderful cele-
brations are merely bypassed.
Damn sam, i hope im thru now.
im gonna quit anyway, if you
run short stick in a joke or some-
thing, noonell notice . .
Be cheerful, friends, and keep
things buttoned up . . .
DICK NOEL
The picture starts with camera
following a pair of feet trudging
through frozen mud and sweat.
The feet are bloody and wrapped
in World War I knapsacks. In
the background we hear the mo-
vie theme song, "Battlescar Dad-
dy Rock." Suddenly a bomb whis-
tles across the gray screen and
explodes in front of the camera.
As the smoke and blood clears
we see
THE GUTS and the GUTS
SCENE ONE: We see the feet
still walking. They are somewhat
bloodier. They march up forty-
seven flights of stairs, march
past a pile of brocken bricks and
splintered beams, past a heap of
grinning bodies, and finally, as
the music swells, a bloody foot
kicks open a bullet riddled door.
"Hot damn that smarts!" the
owner of the feet screams. "Yes,"
the other comments, But it's real-
istic as hell. The other man is
Captain Eddie Albertcloonie. He
is peeling a banana. The first
man is Jack Ugly. The captain
finishes peeling the banana and
throws it in the corner with the
Directed by Matt Flynn
SHOWME presents a movie re-
view.
For those of you who saw the
show when it was here, we hope
you enjoy it for the second time;
for those of you who missed it,
congratulations.
others. He then eats the peel.
The captain is crazy. The cam-
era turns on the figure in the
doorway. A lean man with a
strong, hard face. The face speaks
. . . "You sent for me, sir?" The
"sir" is said sarcastically. "Yes-
sireebobarootiekazootie, Jack Boy.
I have a really keeno idea. I want
you and some of the boys to take
the tiny town of Wectzenblurch."
The captain smiles. "We'll cov-
er you." Camera moves in for a
close-up. The captain twitches
nervously. His eyes are watery,
his skin is pale, his hair is blond
crewcut. He grins at Jack Ugly
and adds, "We'll be right behind
you."
Jack grits his pearly teeth and
flexes the muscles in his jaw.
Sweat trickles down from his
matted hair and forms dirty riv-
ers on his grimy, realistic face.
He explodes. "Yeah. Like you
were behind us at Reutzencomp
and Chritchton! Dunfruz and
Roblehall! If you," he says breath-
ing heavily, "If you get me down
again, I'm coming back and ram
this hand grenade down your
throat." Jack whirls and stomps
dramatically out of the room.
Then, when out of sight, he
breaks into a painful hobble.
SCENE TWO: Jack and the
boys are high on a windy hill.
The set was borrowed from
Love Is a Many Splendored Thing.
The morning mist was borrowed
too, but unlike other unrealistic
movies, this show has no kissing
lovers. This show has only sweat-
ing men.
"It's too quiet, Sergeant Ugly."
It's a kid's voice. The camera fo-
cuses on a shaggy-haired, lovable
farmboy. He has his arms about
a collie dog's neck. The dog fol-
lowed him clear from Potlicker,
Miss. And that's quite a swim.
The wind stirs Jack's long black
hair. The sergeant folds his arms
about his one-man bazooka with
bayonet attachment. "I'll go it
alone," he says quietly. "'Tis a
far, far better thing that I do
this now than I have never be-
for done and or something."
Jack's not too good with the long
lines. The collie dog sighs.
"If I don't return, sweaty and
brave, remember this . he who,
who he . . . " Jack stares cine-
mascopically out into space. Then
with a snap of his fingers, he
charges down the hill toward the
town. After he is out of sight of
the boys, he slows to a hobble.
He had to ham it up for the boys.
In the background he can hear
them singing God Bless America
in march time. It is very inspir-
ing.
Now we can see Jack approach-
ing the town; for, through the
magic of motion pictures, we are
located in a belltower in Wect-
zenblurch. We hear realistic,
cruel voices. Actual type of
mean, nasty enemy voices. "Rott-
zen Americano peeg. I ban gon-
na shottzen." Boom. Tac-tac-tac.
WHOMP! BURP! BURP! WOW-
BANG BOW! THONK! Every
kind of gun in the world . . . .
ZAP! in the anywhere, opens up
on poor Jack who is enveloped
in a cloud of smoke, fire, blood
and shrapnel.
SCENE THREE: An orderly
bursts into the captain's office.
The orderly is sweating. "Jack
Ugly is being killed, sir. He re-
quests the cover you offered him,
sir!" The camera moves in on
the captain's face. He is sweating
and crying. He squashes a banana
in his armpit. Boy, is he yellow.
"Please sir, you must help."
Tension mounts. The captain
drops to the floor and begins to
beat his head against a nearby
brick. We no longer hate him.
Now we pity him. The captain
looks up and speaks slowly as he
hits his head. "Tell him . to do
. the best . . he can . tell him
. . that I . . love him . . oh my
. head." With this, Albertcloonie
staggers to his feet and stumbles
toward his bunk, still beating
himself about the head and shoul-
ders with the bloody brick. The
music here is very sad. (Scene
fades.)
SCENE FOUR: The smoke
has begun to clear on the battle-
field. We now see Jack Ugly. He
has two bullet holes in his chest
and his head has been run over
by a tank. He smiles. He knows
that he has come through the
worst of it. He knows this means
a furlough. But now his face
melts into a mask of hate. He is
thinking of the captain. He be-
gins to crawl up the bloody
slope. The band plays hate mu-
sic.
SCENE FIVE: Trembling
hands pack a suitcase full of ba-
nana peels. "Call me a jeep, Pri-
vate," he shouts toward a win-
dow. "O.K., you're a jeep," the
private shouts back. Albertcloo-
nie ignores the laughter and con-
tinues. "I'm going to see Colonel
Maruin about getting Sergeant
13
Ugly for desertion."
There's much booing outside
the window. Everybody likes
Jack and no one the captain.
Then ,outside the door, we hear
a scraping, gurgling, dragging
sound. The captain whirls around,
facing the door. The door swings
slowly open . . . In topples Jack
Ugly. The captain giggles at the
mutilated, mangled, maimed, mor-
bid body of once-proud Jack.
"You dirty ratnig," Jack mum-
bles. "You are loathsome and
disgusting and not fit to be call-
ed Captain and I shall not call
you Captain no more, you big
pig!" (Note here real realistic
use of words such as "big pig" to
denote antagonistic attitude of
Jack toward the captain.) Jack
tries to rise, but can't. The cap-
tain is standing on his bloody
head. The captain giggles and
plunks an object into his mouth.
There is a muffled explosion.
Blood splatters the screen.
SCENE SIX. Two orderlies are
sweeping the captain into a
bloody dustpan. Jack Ugly's sight-
less eyes cannot see what has
OVER
happened, but we feel that he
knows. We feel that he knows
that the crazy, hateful, mean and
downright disagreeable captain
peeled and ate a . . . hand gre-
nade. We feel the true-to-life,
realistic justice of it all. The
band plays "Battlescar Daddy
Rock." triumphantly. In bloody
letters across the sweat screen
is written:
As we leave our sweaty seats
and comb our matted hair and
gasp for air, we feel strangely ill
at ease. Wonder why all the peo-
ple around us act and look so
normal, so unrealistic.
Carolyn Wilderson
1957 Engine queen,
agrees that shoes at
gene glenn's are fit
for a queen.
Gene Glenn
Queen Katie
and Princess Ann
The town of Marshall, Missouri, must have
had a ball on March 1, 1936 - 'cause like that's
when Swami's queen, Katie James, was born.
This green-eyed, brown-haired miss ranks as
one of the prettiest and most-poised of all the
Showme Queens. She's also a Kappa Kappa
Gamma and the sweetheart of the Delta Tau
Delta house - namely Bob Falkenhainer. Queen
Katie says she wants to use her major in French
to land a job with the government. She likes to
swim and to play tennis and as far as Swami
is concerned she's going to be unbeatable in any
field.
And speaking of something unbeatable,
Swami not only crowned a beautiful queen, but
also an exquisite princess. Ann Lewellen was
born October 19, 1935, in that ribald town of
St. Louis and later moved to greener pastures
in Jefferson City. This pretty brown-eyed, brown
haired miss is majoring in speech therapy and
plans to teach deaf children,
There's a certion lucky airman at the Sey-
mour Johnson Air Force Base in North Carolina
who has set the date with this luscious coed for
July 6. Yes, Ann also is a jock - having swimm-
ing, tennis and golf among her repertory.
Swami hit it on the proverbial nail when
he said that Katie and Ann would be the perfect
complement to anything.
Photos by Charlotte Peaslee
ANN LEWELLEN
MORNNIG . .
NOON .
AND NIGHT .
KATIE JAMES
She's A Queen
Have a Ball
The air was electric with excitement at
the gala Crystal Ball. Finally, the big
moment arrived and the name of the
1957 Showme queen formed in Swami's
crystal ball. And Katie James was
crowned queen.
The St. Louis trip began on a regal note by
reserving a royal suite for the queen and her
princess - Ann Lewellen. They are being
welcomed by Ray Carr, manager of the Mel-
bourne Hotel.
While at KXOK the queen met THE ES-
CORTS - the top national recording group.
They sang for Katie, autographed a record
for her . . . and agreed that Swami had made
an excellent choice.
Katie and Ann were given the
key to St. Louis. Their first stop
was at KXOK where they were
interviewed by St. Louis's cele-
brated disc-jockey, Ed Bonner.
in St. Louis
Photos by Joe Van Trump
For those who were still sober, the banquet for
Katie and Ann at the Melbourne proved to be a
huge success. Katie is in the process of answer-
ing for the 258th time, "What's it feel like to be
Queen?"
The gala evening started at the Chase Hotel. Here,
Katie and Ann are being interviewed on "Thee
Harry Fender Show" in the Steeplechase, the
Chase's cocktail lounge. "Yes," said Fender,
"here's true Americana."
Showme
Miss Missouri Pageant Committee
Here's How You Can Be
SHOWME JOINS WITH THE MISS MISSOURI PAGEANT COMMITTEE TO PRE-
SENT A PROGRAM AT 2 P.M. SUNDAY APRIL 14 IN THE STUDENT UNION TO
EXPLAIN ENTRANCE OF MISSOURI CO-EDS IN ST. LOUIS AREA PRELIMINA-
RIES IN MID-MAY. ALL CO-EDS ARE ELIGIBLE. PAGEANT STAFF WILL PRESENT
COLOR MOVIES.
WILL THIS BE YOU THIS YEAR?
MISS AMERICA 1957
Marian Ann McKnight,
Manning, South Carolina
See you at the Miss Missouri
Entrance Program at
The Miss Missouri Pageant
Committee of the Webster Groves
Junior Chamber of Commerce is
franchised by MISS AMERICA
in Atlantic City to present a Pag-
eant at which one young lady is
chosen to represent Missouri in
the annual MISS AMERICA
SCHOLARSHIP PAGEANT. In
September, the state winners
compete for the Miss America ti-
tle and for more than $30,000.00
in scholarships.
Ten Missouri towns are now
holding preliminaries. But ALL
GIRLS ENTERING THE MISS
MISSOURI PRELIMINARY
THROUGH THE COOPERA-
TION OF SHOWME will direct-
ly enter the preliminaries in St.
Louis in mid-May. A finalist will
be chosen there and she will en-
ter the finals in June. No entry
fee is required for preliminaries
candidates.
QUALIFICATIONS:
1) Aged 18 by September, 1957
and not over 27 by the same
date.
2) NEVER have been married.
3) A resident of Missouri OR A
STUDENT IN THE UNIVER-
SITY OF MISSOURI or oth-
er Missouri schools.
4) High school graduate.
5) Ability to present 3-minute
talent (voice, dance, instru-
mental, dramatics, speech, art,
design, sports, etc.)
6) For the first time, a general
scholarship will be offered to
Miss Missouri.
The Miss America Pageant
CONVENTION HALL, ATLANTIC CITY, N.J.
Miss Missouri
NICE THINGS HAPPEN
TO MISS MISSOURI:
Miss Missouri of 1956, Rose-
ann Teri of St. Louis was cho-
sen June 16th. She reigned as of-
ficial state hostesses at the Na-
tional Jaycee Convention in Kan-
sas City, an all-expense-paid
week . . . Appeared at thirty of-
ficial dinners as guest of honor
or hostess to visiting dignitaries
. . Made 21 radio and TV ap-
pearances . . . Interviewed by
screen director Nicholas Ray of
20th Century Fox for screen role
. . Toured Missouri by air un-
der auspices of the Missouri Di-
vision of Resources and Develop-
ment visiting 12 towns in one
week . . . Featured in numerous
newspapers and magazines
Officiated at Hannibal's first
"Tom Sawyer Day" . . . Visited
Louisiana, Missouri's Water Fes-
tival . . . Guest of honor at "Miss
Missouri Night" at Busch Stadi-
um in the box of August A.
Busch, Jr., Cardinal owner . . .
Spent one FABULOUS week in
Atlantic City as Missouri's rep-
resentative to the famed MISS
AMERICA PAGEANT compet-
ing for one of the more than
$30,000.00 in scholarships . . Of-
ficiated at "Missouri Day" at the
Mid-America Jubilee in St. Louis
. . . Appeared as model at the
opening of Joplin's Christman's
Macy Store Fashion Department
. . . AND MADE AN AIR TOUR
OF ICELAND, THE AZORES,
BAHAMAS AND BERMUDA
during the Christmas holidays as
part of a 16-member U.S.O.
troupe entertaining troops for
two weeks.
1956
MISS MISSOURI
Roseann Teri, St. Louis
$100.00 Cash Scholarship
Let's Have a University of Mis-
souri Girl Win It Again
Sure you can make it! Co-ed Bev-
erly Rotroff. SHOWME Queen in
1950, went on to win the Miss
Missouri contest that year. She
was an elementary education
major from Kansas City and liked
to sing with dance bands.
2 p. m. Sunday, April 14th in the Student Union.
The Kingdom of a Thousand Queens
An Essay on Man
I'm a girl.
Right here and now I think we
ought to get something straight.
This I-Hate-Men-and-Women stuff
has gone far enough and I feel
compelled to make my position
clear.
I LIKE men! As a matter of
fact, there are very few things
I like better. I like everything
about them - from their frater-
nity stickers to their inevitable
endless line of meaningless flat-
tery.
To tell the truth, and I don't
admit this to many people, I
could get alond very nicely with-
out women at all. Understand, I
don't particularly dislike women,
but with few exceptions I find
them completely unnecessary.
They do come in handy at times,
like for answering my phone
calls, and borrowing clothes
from, but they really leave me
cold. I prefer male company any
time.
When I say I like men, I don't
mean necessarily from a romantic
angle. That's a lovely angle and
I advocate it highly. But besides
being fine parking companions,
they also make good buddies.
like for jellying. Now the perfect
situation, as far as I can see, is
me and men - numbering from
one on up. Besides being better
to talk to, they also buy your
coffee - except at times immedi-
ately before the 20th of each
month.
It's such fun being a woman
with men around. I could just go
wild on this being-a-woman kick,
like having my coat held for me,
doors opened, and cigarettes lit.
Of course, there are men who
seem to think that all women
should be fully emancipated, but
they probably have never had a
qualified eyelash-batter work on
them.
I like men. I like 'em stupid
or intellectual, progressive or
rock 'n roll. Now don't get me
wrong - I do have preferences,
but generically speaking, I like
men indiscriminately. I even
like indiscriminate men.
I even like them when they
call me for a date at 6 p.m. Sat-
urday, when they're a half hour
late for that date, broke and
needing a shave. I don't even
mind having my chin whiskered
or getting late minutes.
I like them suave and sophisti-
cated, but especially when they're
helpless and motherable. I don't
mind having them cry on my
shoulder about another girl or
trying to big-brother me. And I
can even stomach an Ivy League
buckle when it's on a male bot-
tom.
I love men when they smoke
my cigarettes, borrow money and
confiscate my favorite earrings
in a fit of passion and forget to
return them.
I love them when they try to
make me stop smoking, change
my hairdo or lose weight. But I
love them best when they love
me the way I am.
A man is a creature of para-
dor. One day he's sweet and pli-
able and the next he acts like a
bear deprived of his honey. He
loves me madly and tells me
pleasant little lies and the next
night he's out with another girl.
But I just shrug and say "That's
a man for you," 'cause I love
him anyway. - N.L.S.
Campus Shoe
Repair
ANDY'S CORNER
OUR BUDDY Went To The
Advertising
STABLES
To Draw A Centerspread
On A Beer Bottle Which
He Dropped.
Here Are The Pieces.
Swami's
Snorts
A visiting Frenchman was be-
ing guided around New York as
the various sights were pointed
out to him. Finally his guide
stopped in front of the Empire
State Building and pointed up
proudly, "There," he said, "is the
tallest building in the world."
The Frenchman's gaze was
properly admiring. "It reminds
me of sex," he said.
The guide was astonished. "I've
seen a lot of reactions to the Em-
pire State Building, but never
one like that. Tell me, why does
the Empire State Building re-
mind you of sex?"
The Frenchman shrugged his
shoulder. "Everything does."
Daughter, have you been smok-
ing again?
I only took two, father.
All right; just for that you go
to bed without any gin tonight.
Mechanic: With a car like that,
my advice is to keep moving.
Delt: Why?
Mechanic: If you ever stop, the
cops will think it's an accident.
Judge: "What brought you
here?"
Student: "Two policemen."
Judge: "Drunk, I suppose."
"Yes, your honor, both of them."
Kit: "Do you think you're San-
ta Claus?"
Kat: "No, why."
Kit: "Then leave my stocking
alone."
"I think all this talk about
college being all wine, women
and song is exaggerated."
"Yeah - - you never hear sing-
ing in the dorm."
Knock knock.
Who's there?
Hyde Park.
Hyde Park who?
Hyde Park if you would.
Tenant: The people upstairs are
very annoying. Last night they
stomped and banged on the
floor until after midnight.
Landlord: Did they wake you?
Tenant: No, luckily I was up
playing my tuba.
"How are you feeling," the doc-
tor asked the well-formed lass.
And then he felt.
He: Your husband is a brilliant
looking man. I suppose he
knows everything.
She: Don't be silly. He doesn't
even suspect.
A student went over to the
health service. "Doc," he said, "I
feel so bad it makes me want to
kill myself."
"Now, now," muttered the doc,
"You just leave that to us."
Lush (bumping into lamp
post): "Excuse me, sir."
(Bumping into fire hydrant):
"Excuse me, little boy."
(Bumping into telephone
pole): "Well, I'll just sit here
till the crowd passes."
PLAN IT AT THE STABLES
26
UNIVERSITY BOOK STORE
Lewis' Texaco Town
Highway 40 At Sexton
BROADWAY DRIVE-IN
How to Make "Peanuts" Missouri Tiger
Material Required:
Gold Felt - 8"x11" (1)
Black Felt - 4"x6" (2)
White Felt - 3"x3" (3)
One spool each of red embroidery thread (4), white embroidery thread (5), black embroidery thread
(6), yellow thread and black thread.
Putting Together:
1. Cut the entire body of the tiger along the solid black line from gold felt.
2. Embroider the stretch of mouth (4) in red cutline stitch using a three-strand thread.
3. Embroider all lines marked 6 with black embroider thread in outline stitch.
4. Cut all pieces marked 2 from black felt and pin into position.
5. Cut the pieces of the nose and eyes marked 3 from white felt and place on the tiger.
6. The white felt eyes are one solid piece of felt with black felt pupils placed on top.
7. Place the entire applique in position on the skirt . . . at a slightly tilted position. The front half
of the lower foot should be straight to give the proper tilt.
8. The tiger is then sewed from underneath with a small running or basting stitch of yellow
thread.
9. Pin the black stripes (2) in position and tack on with black thread.
10. Embroider the lines marked 5 in a white outline stitch.
For Your Dark Skirt or light Jacket
Sue Wilson
Swami's darlin' in her snappin' jumpin'
tiger skirt. She's Peanut's favorite too.
'N Schroeder's 'n Lucy's, 'n Snoopy's. The
whole gang's snappin' jumpin' about her.
Photos by Joe Van Trump
The "Peanuts" tiger was part of a sketch originally drawn for the Homecoming Edition of the
Maneater (Nov. 30, 1956) by Charles Schulz, creator of "Peanuts". SHOWME was granted permission
to use the tiger on the staff page, and release for the tiger pattern, by James Hennessy, business man-
ager, United Feature Syndicate.
We thank the syndicate for their generous release and warn that reprinting of the tiger symbol
or SHOWME staff drawing of the pattern in any other publication is expressly forbidden without the
permission of United Feature Syndicate, 220 East 42nd St., New York 17, N.Y.
30
filched
Italian Village
Ernie's Steak House
NEUHOMMS
Swami's
Snorts
A seagull flew into Andy's the
other day and landed on the bar.
"Gimme a drink," the'gull said,
"I'm so tired I could drop."
"You do and it'll be the last
time you come in here," replied
the bartender.
The pastor found Joe on the
sidewalk one night, drunk as us-
ual. He picked him up and told
him it just wasn't possible to
drink up all the beer that Pabst
could make.
Joe looked up at the brewery,
all lighted up and said, "Well,
anyway, I got 'em working
nights."
A Bostonian was showing a
visiting Englishman around. "This
is Bunker Hill Monument, where
Warren fell, you know."
The visitor surveyed the lofty
shaft thoughtfully. "Nasty drop.
Killed him of course?"
Two little boys were walking
with their mother along the edge
of a cliff. Suddenly, the mother
slipped and fell over the side.
"How ridiculous," said the
first little boy, "our mother has
fallen over the precipice."
"Oh, please don't make me
laugh," said the other little boy,
"my lips are chapped."
Birds do it
Bees do it
Bats do it
Join the Air Force!
Alex Seconk entered a crowded
subway train and was forced to
stand next to a girl for about 20
stations. They were bounced
about at very close quarters for
the duration of the journey. As
the man started to leave at his
destination, he turned to the
girl, and said: "Madame, here is
my card - just in case . . . "
An amoeba named Seconk and
his brothah
Were drinking toasts to each
othah
In the midst of their quaffing
They split themselves laughing
Now each of them is a mothah.
One of two deaf Englishmen
taking a train trip together fell
asleep. The train wheezing to a
stop at a station awakened him.
He turned to his companion and
bellowed, "I say, is this Wem-
berly?"
"No, it's Thursday."
"Me, too, let's go have a
drink."
Sudden Service Cleaners
and Shirt Laundry
Life Savers
IN COLUMBIA, IT'S...
FOR
1580
on your
dial
The Commodore's
Ice Box
By Dick Porterfield
Gloom and unhappiness reign-
ed supreme. In two weeks the
destroyer Wilkens would leave
for another cruise to the Medi-
terranean. Three men, all ra-
darmen, disconsolately sat in
CIC drinking coffee, and be-
moaning their ill luck at being
cast aboard such a ship.
"Just as I was gettin' myself
all set up," said Gene, a tall thin
boy from Brooklyn. "Last nite
Gracie talked to me for more'n
two hours. Another month and
I'dve been gettin free beer. Man!"
"To think I could've been a
yeoman. Probably be settin on
some shore station with liberty
every night, dating Waves, 'n ev-
erthing . . . but no I wanted to
be a radarman, scope dope, a
knob twister . . . oh", groaned
Don, a husky lad from Idaho.
This was his normal answer to
anything that might come up he
didn't like. "I could've been a
yeoman".
"Where's Suds?", questioned
Andy, a thin bespectacled boy
who had an elf-like grin when
he was happy.
"Back in the transmitter room
asleep probly. He got drunk
again last night. No matter what,
he gets drunk. If he's happy he
celebrates. If he's sad it's to
drown his sorrows. I dunno why
he got drunk last night. He dint
seem happy or sad when he gave
me a ride into town," Gene said.
"I wish I could do that. If I
get drunk, or stay sober I still
gotta work the next day. He
always sleeps the whole darn
day. It must be nice to be a first
class." Andy's words were the
thoughts of all the radarmen. "I
think I'll go get some air. It
stinks in here."
It certainly did stink in there.
Gene and Don sat quietly, each
deep in his own thought. They
were supposed to be cleaning
CIC, yet it was cluttered with
milk cartons, dirty coffee cups,
orangepeels, newspapers, maga-
zines, cards and poker chips from
the night before.
Andy burst into the room as
noisily as he had left it quietly
a moment before. "Hey you guys,
come out here. I got something
to show you!"
"Yeah, what?"
"A refrigerator, that's what, a
beautiful lil ole refrigerator just
sittin there."
At this Gene and Don stirred.
Slowly, much to Andy's disap-
proval, they made their way out
to the 01 level forward. There
they beheld the spectacle. A
small refrigerator, the type used
To Encourage Student Writing Showme Supplement
in small apartments, sat on the
deck. It was obviously new.
"Pretty nice," said Don. "I won-
der whose it is."
"Think of all the beer you
could keep in that thing," Gene
said.
"That's what we oughta have,
an icebox to keep beer and cokes
and things cold in. It would be
great for mid-watches and things
like that."
"I almost got caught stealing
that fried chicken from the of-
ficers' pantry last night," Andy
said. "If we had an icebox no-
body could do nothin, cause it
would be our stuff, not officers'."
"I wonder whose it is," Gene
said. He began inspecting the box
for a name, or tag of ownership.
"Don't say nothin on it cept
Westinghouse."
"That's whose it is!" cried An-
dy. "Mr. Westinghouse's icebox.
You seen anybody round called
Westinghouse lately Gene?"
"Not in a month or so."
"How bout you Don?"
"Nope."
"Well then, I Andrew E. (El-
mo) Shultz claim this here ice-
box as free and loose gear. Since
there ain't no master at arms
around to put it in the lucky
bag, I hereby claim it under the
rights of STATUS QUO."
Don asked, "What's that?"
"That's Latin."
"Oh."
"Where we gonna put it? CIC's
all filled up with everything and
besides we don't want anybody to
know we got it." Gene remarked
thoughtfully.
"I got it. The radar transmit-
ter room. Nobody goes in there
but us and there's plenty of
room," Andy cried happily.
"Geez, think of all the chow
we can put in there."
"Let's go back inside. We'll put
it away tonight after working
hours so nobody will know we
got it hid."
"What if somebody else takes
it?"
"Nobody better try it. I'll bus
'em up good. Besides it's ours,
and who would steal it anyhow?"
"Yeah, that's right."
The rest of the day was spent
in planning all the things that
would be kept in "their icebox".
After much arguing it was de-
cided that all the radarmen
would be let in on their secret,
and that no liquor or beer would
be kept there as "someone might
get stoned on duty, and then we
would have trouble."
That night, after Suds had left
the ship to get drunk for an un-
known reason, and the rest of
the crew had gone on liberty or
to bed, three figures stole stealth-
ily forward to the 01 level.
"Andy, you get hold of it on
that side, and Don, you grab it
there. I'll lead the way and make
sure nobody else sees us," direct-
ed Gene, the senior of the three
-a second class petty officer, and
the other two merely third class.
Don lifted his end.
"Got your end Andy?"
"Some dirty rat bolted it to
the deck! It won't budge."
"Let me see . . . I can lift it.
Now come on, no funny stuff."
"I must a worked too hard to-
day, I can't even get it up."
"Here," said Gene. "I'll carry
it, you be the lookout. Oof, this
durn thing is heavy."
"Watch it going through the
hatch," cautioned Andy.
"Ouch!"
"What happened?"
"Nothin much, I just busted all
the fingers on my right hand is
all."
"Want I should go get the
corpsman?"
"No, no, no. of course I don't
want the corpsman. Quit shov-
in Don, it's hard as it is walkin
backward."
They reached the place where
a ladder coming down from the
bridge met the 01 level. There
also, one of the legs of the tri-
37
Fern's
Pantry
Brown
Derby
pod mast was anchored to the
deck. It was very close and the
refrigerator being wide, would
not go through.
"What'll we do now?"
"We could take it apart and
put the pieces back together
again back in the transmitter
room."
"No, no, we'd never get it to-
gether right again."
"We could disconnect the lad-
der here at the bottom and one
of us hold it up in the air while
the other two carried it by."
"Yeah, that's a good idea. An-
dy you get that pin out, I'll get
this one."
"Okay Andy, you hold it up,
and Don and me'll carry it by
and then you put the pins back
in."
"Are you kidding? I can't ev-
en lift the darn thing. Its twice
as heavy as the icebox."
"You can't carry the icebox,
and you can't hold up the lad-
der. What can you do?"
"Who found it, and declared it
free and legally loose gear fel-
la, huh, tell me that. Who found
it, huh? You sure didn't."
"I'll hold the ladder up, and
Gene, you and Andy scoot it by."
"We don't wanta scratch it up.
That would roon it."
"Well, what are we gonna do
then?"
"We'll lift it up, and then you
hold it Andy. As soon as we get
by we'll help you put it back
down."
"Awright."
Gene and Don lifted the heavy
steel ladder above their heads
and held it as Andy stepped be-
tween them, grabbed it and
braced himself. They released
their holds. Andy's knees buckled
and he almost dropped it. They
both grabbed it again.
"For gosh sakes, you gotta hold
it up Andy."
"Okay, I just didn't know it
was that heavy. Geez it almost
broke my back."
Again they released it to his
care. This time he held it. He also
held his breath.
"Hurry up you guys," he said
through gritted teeth. "I can't
hold it much longer."
Gene and Don quickly lifted
the refrigerator and squeezed by
with it.
"Ow!", cried Andy, releasing
the ladder, which crashed to the
deck with a loud bang. "You
clumsy ox, Don, you stepped
right on my foot."
Don and Gene dropped the
refrigerator and ran behind the
deckhouse. Ensign Folsom's face
appeared from the deck below.
He was the OOD.
"What's going on up there?"
"Nothing sir", Andy said. "I
merely droppel my watch."
"Allright, but keep it quiet
will you, I'm listening to Drag-
net."
"Yessir."
Don and Gene reappeared.
"Why'd you drop the ladder you
idiot? It almost hit me," Don
said in a strangled whisper.
"You stepped on my foot,
that's why. And I wish it had
cracked your thick skull."
"For gosh sakes you two, keep
it quiet. Let's get this thing in
the transmitter room."
The treasure was delivered to
the radar transmitter room with-
out further incident. The three
quietly went to bed concealing
their glee at having successfully
completed such a daring piece of
H.R. Mueller
Florist
larceny.
Saturday morning was filled
with inspection and preparation,
so they had little time to even
think about "their refrigerator".
That afternoon was spent in
sleeping, and nothing, no matter
how important, could keep them
from that.
Sunday morning found the
three modern musketeers very
busy. Andy had been dispatched
to confiscate the parts needed to
attach the refrigerator to an elec-
trical outlet. Don was busy find-
ing the tools. It was difficult, as
both the electrical and electronic
shops were locked on Sundays.
Still they succeeded. Gene, be-
ing the senior man, and having
had more experience in such
things, was saved for the actual
connection work.
Finally after many errands
here and there they were pre-
pared to begin the job.
"You're sure you know how to
do this, ain't you Gene?"
"Yeah, yeah, who do you think
connected all the radars on this
ship?"
"You dint."
"Yeah, but I could've. Hand me
that pair of pliers Andy. No, that's
the wirecutters. Yeah, that's it.
Now all I gotta do is put this big
marine plug on this cord instead
of this little plug and we're all
set."
"Don, what'd you get this pipe
wrench for? We didn't need that,
do we Gene?"
"That's not a pipe wrench, it's
a vice grip pliers, and anybody
knows you can always use a
pair of vice grips."
"Be quiet youse guys. I'm
busy . . . Andy, see if you can
wrap that wire around that pole
there. My fingers are too big."
"This thing here?"
"Yeah."
"What if I get 'lectrocuted?"
"You won't get electrocuted.
It's not even connected to any-
thing."
"Okay, how's that?"
"That's right, now hold it while
I screw this screw down to hold
it tight. Where'd that darn screw-
driver go? What'd you drop it
for Andy?"
"I thought you had it."
"Here Don, you do it . . .Don
. .Oh for gosh sakes, wake
him up will you, Andy? That
guy could sleep through a hurri-
cane."
Andy delivered a stout kick to
Don's ribs. The latter didn't stir.
"He's dead. He dint even
move."
"Well you do it again, only
this time, don't drop it."
"Okay".
After dropping the screwdriv-
er and the plug several times
more the job was finally com-
pleted.
"There," exclaimed Gene.
"Now all we gotta do is plug it
in, and it's all set."
Andy plugged it in and tight-
ened the screw cap to make sure
"THE KEG"
it wouldn't slip out. He stepped
back and opened the door.
"Wow! it works. Look, the
light's on. Hey Don, wake up,
the icebox works."
Don rolled over and went on
sleeping.
"You got any money Andy?"
"No, I spent it all payday night.
I got a couple old pea coat but-
tons if that'll do you any good.
Why?"
"Well, I thought I'd go in town
and buy some stuff to put in
there. We might as well start
stocking her up now."
"We better wait, you know
we're going to school for a week
starting tomorrow and Suds
would probably eat it all up."
"Yeah, well listen. Next pay-
day save your dough and we'll
stock her up with all kinds of
gedunks."
"I wonder how many pizzas I
could stick in there."
"You ain't gonna put no piz-
zas in this here icebox. I don't
want everything tasting like gar-
lic."
"No pizzas!!!" Andy screamed
with such alarm that Don opened
one eye which he quickly closed
again. "You can't do this to me
Gene. I can't live without at least
three pizzas a day. I'll go nuts,
stark raving nuts, do you hear
that. Nuts!"
"Okay, I guess you can keep
a couple in there, so long as I
have some room for my stuff too.
Lets go getta cup of coffee."
"What about Don, we just gon-
na let him lay there?"
"Might as well, he'll get up
when he gets hungry."
Monday morning, after quart-
ers, Suds staggered up to CIC to
have his morning cup of coffee.
He was hungover, as usual, and
could hardly wait for ten o'clock
to roll around so he could go
back to the transmitter room for
his daily nap that always lasted
till liberty call. While he scratch-
ed his balding head and bulbous
stomach, he surveyed CIC which
was in its usual filthy state.
The door slammed as Freeman,
the first class boatswains mate,
entered. Suds groaned and held
his head.
"Hya Suds, any coffee on?"
"Yeah, there's some in there."
Freeman procured a cupful,
then sat facing Suds. "What hap-
pened to you? You look like a
truck hit you or something."
"Out a little late last nite,
didn't .get much sleep."
THE HI FI HOUSE
"Say Suds, you seen anything
of a refrigerator?"
"No, why?"
"Well, we had it out on the 01
level and were supposed to trans-
fer it over to the Singer today. It
belongs to the Commodore. Mr.
Lawrence is really mad, cause it
was there Friday, and we can't
find it anywhere. Who'l want to
steal a refrigerator anyhow?"
"A penquin maybe. I haven't
seen it Boats, but if I do I'll give
you a call." Suds mumbled with
his head between his hands.
"Okay, thanks for the coffee.
I gotta go see if I can find it any-
where on the ship. See ya."
Suds groaned again as the door
slammed.
At eight forty-five Gene, Don,
Andy, and the rest of the radar-
men who were to go to school
were lined up on the quarter-
deck. At eight-fifty a loud hoarse
voice was heard from the deck
above them.
"Langly, Burns, Shultz! Get up
here! It was Suds. He looked mad.
His bloodshot eyes were protrud-
ing from their sockets and his
fat jowls were flushed more than
usual.
"Whatsamatta Suds?", asked
Gene in an innocent voice.
"You know darn well what's
the matter" bellowed Suds. "That
refrigerator in the transmitter
room. Who put it there?"
"We did," piped Andy. We're
gonna keep pizzas in it. Just
think of it, stacks and stacks of
pizzas. Wow!"
"Well, get it outa there. In
fact put it over on the Singer. It
belongs to the Commodore and
woe be unto you if he finds out
you stole it."
"The Commodore!", the three
culprits said in unison, their
jaws dropping.
"Yes, the Commodore, now get
a move on."
Gene said, "What'd ya have to
open your big mouth for, Andy?
If you hadn't said nothin we
mignt not've had to move it. Now
I'll probly get my blues all dir-
ty."
"Geez, no more icebox, no
more pizzas, no more nothin.
Darn it, why'd Suds have to find
it. Of all the people to find it,
it would have to be him," moan-
ed Andy. "Now I'll probly starve
to death all the way over to the
Med."
Don said, "I didn't have noth-
in to do with it. All I did was
help to carry it back to the trans-
mitter room . . . I don't know
why I have to help put it on the
Singer. I'm innocent!" he cried.
"I didn't do nothin but help car-
ry it."
After much moaning and wail-
ing they detached the refrigera-
tor and carried it to the wing
which was close to the wing of
the Singer. A gap of about eigh-
teen inches separated the two
ships. It would be necessary to
lift it over the the lifelines and
deposit it on the deck of the oth-
er ship.
Don stepped across and stood
on the Singer with outstretchel
arms as if expecting Gene and
Andy to throw the refrigerator
to him. Gene stood with one foot
on the deck of each ship. He bent,
grabbed an end of it and waited
for Andy to lift the other side.
"Well, come on Andy, pick it
up," cried Gene.
"I can't. It won't budge. I'm
just a ninety-eight pound weak-
ling, that's all. Just a weakling."
"Oh for gosh sakes, you held
up the ladder diln't you?"
They bent again, grunted
mightily and lifted it. It got as
far as the lifeline, then Andy
dropped his end, causing Gene to
lose his grip on his side. It fell
to the deck, one corner on Andy's
foot.
"Ow! Get it off! Oh God, get
it off! It's killing me, besides
these are my inspection shoes,"
cried Andy with anguish. "Get it
off!"
Gene said, "Get it off yourself,
you dropped it, I didn't."
ROMANO'S
Andy bent down and shoved it
off his shoe. "Look at that, roon-
ed, just rooned. A perfectly good
pair of inspection shoes. They're
only two years old too, and look
at em."
Suds walked out onto the deck.
"What's goin on here," he said.
"Haven't you guys got that done
yet? You're supposed to be in
school in a couple minutes."
"Andy can't hold up his end,
and Gene's kind of weak too.
Give em a hand will ya Suds?"
Suds straddled the water and
with Gene and Andy's help fin-
ally got the refrigerator to Don's
waiting arms. Don, hugging it
tighter than he ever hugged his
wife, carefully placed it on the
deck of the Singer.
Slapping his hands together he
exclaimed, "I don't know what
you guys had so much trouble
over. It can't weigh more than a
couple hunnert pounds."
"Awright you guys, go on and
get to school. We'll discuss this
when you get back."
"I'll bet we will," Gene said.
"Grace'll never gimme that free
beer now."
The three trudged off, each
mumbling. Gene about free beer,
Andy about pizza, and Don said
something about wanting to get a
little . . . sleep.
"Well, I guess I can hit the hay
now," Suds thought, as he stum-
bled his way back to the trans-
mitter room. "How I ever got
three guys like that on one ship
I'll never know." Soon he was fast
asleep dreaming of Boston, beer
and his girl friend Rosie.
Lieutenant Johnson, the Op-
erations officers of the Wilkens
and Lieutenant Sporkowski, the
Commodore's assistant, w e r e
talking in the bar of the offic-
ers' club. " . . . and the funny
thing is, no one knows how it
got amidships. Friday it was on
your forward 01 level. It took
two hours to get it from there
to his stateroom. They had to
take the after ladder from the
bridge off, and it took four men
to carry it.
Lieutenant Johnson spoke,
"Wonder how it got clear back
there."
"Beats me. Waiter, another
pair of the same."
END
TOWN
and
COLLEGE
Swami's
Snorts
A harassed father was trying
to tell his son that there was to
be an addition to the family.
"Son," he said, "someday
soon the stork is going to swoop
down over our house."
The son thought carefully,
then said, "Well, I hope he
doesn't scare Mother. She's preg-
nant, you know."
"Was her father surprised when
you said you wanted to marry
her?"
"Surprised? The gun damn near
fell out of his hand."
Co-ed: "Did you object to the
way I jumped on the table at
the party last night?"
Date: "Yes. How did you expect
me to sleep with all that rack-
et going on overhead."
First kangaroo: Where's the ba-
by?
2nd kangaroo: My God, I've had
my pocket picked.
Son: "Daddy, give me a nickle."
Father: "What did you do with
the one I gave you last month?"
Son: "I spent it."
Father: "I knew it! You're
keeping a woman.
A flea frolicking in a meadow
was swallowed by a bull.
"I'll revenge myself on this nasty
beast as soon as I have rested
up," vowed the flea to itself, and
took a nap. When the flea awoke
the bull was gone.
Young man, why do I find you
kissing my daughter?
I guess, sir, it's because you
wear rubber heels.
"Didja shee me come in da
door?"
"Yes."
"Never shaw me before in ya
life did'ja?"
"No."
"Howja know it was me?
STEPHENS RECOGNIZES
SHOWME EXISTS
Stephens Life, March 21, 1957
Far be it from me to throw any
roses at a (shall we say) brother
publication, especially not one
whose great delight is to deride
the innocent Susie, but in the
case of strong motivation, I can
ignore even the most hallowed
precedent.
What I'm trying to say is that
I think the Showme article on
Sherman Wu was fineand useful.
The question of racial discrimina-
tion has more subtle facets than
the mob uprising against Miss
Lucy in Alabama, and these sub-
tle blows are often painful for
their unexpectedness.
It also pointed out, indirectly,
that the Negro is not the only
sufferer from the narrowness of
certain homogenized citizens who
forget their own polyglot ances-
try.
The extremes of disadvantage to
a minority group are obvious,
clearly defined and unfair in the
far South. The moderate majority
can come only as a pleasant sur-
prise. It is almost worse in
those undetermined areas where
equality is promised and inexplic-
able barbs are delivered.
Missouri is one of these areas,
where the attitude of the indivi-
dual may be radical in either di-
rection. As temporary residents
of Missouri, we can at least ar-
range to make our individual at-
titudes something of which we
need not be ashamed.
P.S. We still love to deride the
innocent (?) Susie . . Especially
with the cartoons drawn by two
of your own Susie cartoonists
who know you all better than we
do. Loosen up, Pat . . We all
like a little fun now and then.
DORN - CLONEY CLEANERS
Thurlow Pt. VII 1/2
Murlin Gene Smith's
Shooting Gallery
I have been informed by an earnest young Greek that my comments about his
ilk have "simply infuriated" him in times past. He attempted to enlighten me about
Greek life. He told me that many Greeks, himself included, often didn't know where
their next copper was coming from, let alone their next Cadillac. To these unfor-
tunates I would like to offer a suggestion. Try working - it does wonders for your
viewpoint. Make a hit with your folks. Suggest it to Dad. Watch his eyes light up at
the thought that you might stop sponging off him . .
Green grass. Tests. Worms. Grass
stains on blankets. Embarrassing
cases of poion ivy. Yeah! When
you're out on a blind date with
that pig you're stuck with for the
evening, keep t h i s consoling
thought uppermost in your mind.
All cats are gray in the dark.
Aren't all you emigres proud
of your foster home town? Hell,
yes. The other day I had a wheel
cylinder go out, with a resul-
tant drop in my ability to stop
my heap in anything less than a
country mile, so being a fairly log-
ical sort I took it to a garage for
repairs. I told the man I wanted
it fixed "right", to avoid future
difficulties. He promised it back
that afternoon. When he finally
released it late the following af-
ternoon he handed me a bill for
$38.45, which included two new
brake linings, four wheel cylinder
kits, two dollars' worth of brake
fluid, a grease seal (!) and much
labor. He then cheerfully inform-
ed me that he refused to guaran-
tee the work, and that the brakes
might last practically forever or
go out three blocks down the
street. Nice little town, our adopt-
ed home-away-from-home.
FREE EZRA POUND!!
It looks like civil war is im-
minent. The city is throwing up
barricades again - on Broadway
yet! And digging trenches. I don't
know who they figure on fight-
ing (I've got a hunch), but if this
keeps up, back-pack helicopters
are the only answer.
Well, it looks like the teamsters
have about flogged their nags to
death. The only difference be-
tween the man who takes five
dollars from the cash register and
the man who takes fifty thousand
from the account seems to be that
the latter is usually more success-
ful. This would seem to prove that
if you're gonna steal - steal big,
brother. All across the land, Un-
ion wheels are sweating, and Ma-
ma, where is your wandering boy
tonight? The only thing to do is
to keep smiling and remember
that organized labor is the back-
bone of America.
Oh, the rich get richer and the
poor get poorer, and in the mean-
time, in betweentimes, ain't we got
fun!
It has come to my attention that
the native inhabitants of our lo-
cal swamp have their own pet
name for students - Hairy Necks.
This is a fact you will undoubted-
ly be most happy to ascertain. The
only remaining question is why
OVER
PARAMOUNT BILLIARD HALL
that particular appelation has been
hung on our long-suffering student
body. Is it because the University
is universally in need of a hair-
cut? Unlikely, considering the
many shiny and almost-bald domes
trotting around the campus. Is it
because of so-called "long-hair"
proclivities of the student popula-
tion? Also unlikely. Lord knows
we have more than our fair share
of uncouth characters! Maybe it's
because of our bobbed-haired belles
- they could be mistaken for men
in slacks. What are they gonna do
when the gals convert to the new
Elvis Presley Cut? JUDAS
PRIEST!.
According to an emotional sta-
bility test given to both prison
convicts and college students, the
convicts are found to be more sta-
ble than the students. THAT
should put you jokers in your
place.
One of the less believable sights
around campus is the college
"man" who invariably gets hell-
roaring drunk on two glasses of
3.2. I once knew a man who drank
neat whiskey and played cards all
night long. He was a gambler. He
cheated so successfully - and so-
berly - that he finally had to go
out of business. Or consider E. W.
Scripps. Old E. W. used to drink
a gallon of whiskey each and ev-
ery day. HE stayed sober enough
to amass one of the largest for-
tunes in America. The logical con-
clusion is that somebody's faking
or their alcohol tolerance level is
so low they should be classed as
subhuman.
Wenn ich nur die Gelegenheit ge-
habt hatte, so wurde ich viel mehr
getan habe. You bet. I guess this
is one of those times when, in the
immortal words of Papa Heming-
way, "I just don't have the juice
up." Yah. Besides, the damn' cof-
fee's boiling over.
The Russian word for shower is
"doosh". Undoubtedly comes from
the same root word "douse" or
"dwse", which comes from "water-
"dowse", which comes from
"witch". That should prove inter-
esting to someone.
Why is it that these infernal
machines are so intricately design-
ed that a man can't change the
ribbon in one of these cotton-pick-
ers without spending an hour and
a half at the job, getting ink all
over everything, and coming out
with a badly frayed temper? Un-
doubtedly a Communist-inspired
plot designed to lead to the ulti-
mate breakdown of our capitalistic
way of life.
Ah, that gay, mad whirl of pow-
er politics! Nasser the Gasser. Me
big chief. You heap little Injun.
Me gottum Soviet-type MIG. You
go-um Hell, Englishman, French-
man, Jew, 'Merican. Me wheel.
Dam' right. Well, wheels are no-
torious for coming into contact
with various objects thrown be-
tween the spokes. Who will be
the lucky volunteer? Five will get
you ten it won't be us. Or the UN,
either. We follow a middle-of-the-
road policy. This is defined as do-
ing nothing with much noise and
great vigor. Sheep do the same
thing - only they're at least quiet
about it.
Well, if you bums (editors only
-this time) want more, you can
write it yourself. Better deal, any-
way. Then I KNOW it'll run.
46
TIGER
HATTERS
Ode On Getting A Load On
In days of old, when college was bold,
And liquor was inexpendible,
To drink all night was considered right,
In fact, it was considered commendable.
'Twas never a blow when the whiskey ran low,
For more was always available.
On foot or by car, each campustown bar
Was forever quite readily assailable.
But now in this town the lid's been clamped down
On the gang from the frats and sororities,
And to have any fun, you must be twenty-one,
By the order of the local authorities.
But I always say, where there's will there's a way,
And sin will win out in the long run,
So pull down the shades, you laddies and maids,
Tap the keg, and draw us a long one.
-Bin Roberts
contributors'
page
*GOING STEADY . Is Tacki-
noelshaw, saying, has seen fun-
ny paperman (artoonist (sic), ed-
itorial assistant), DICK NOEL
(looks most similar to Charlie
Brown cartoon), standing in long-
est line (his closest love, dog-
This is Richard Bollinger Noel
- the only man who can
stand upside down and the
beer won't DARE spill out.
friend, smelling prospectus pants).
And longest line is for . . . "gur-
gle, he he, ha" (is honorable
laugh copied from Noel) . . . for
milk bottle of beer. Is little moon
face containing squishy eyes pro-
tected by faddy black horn-rims
and containing distorted mouth
(not like zig-zag face of funny
people cartoons).
Is said, Dick Noel, ex-Boone-
ville, Columbia, is steady-goer
with dog, BEER and hillbilly du-
ets and is weird tenor which is
all same same, nice nice .
arigato.
Sigma Nu: Darling-doll, why
aren't you wearing my fratern-
ity pin?
Pi Phi: All the other fellows say
it scratches their hands.
*IS PINNED . . . is introduc-
ing BARBARA JONES pinned
to Delta Gamma sorority. Is most
interesting physical person, and
also is physical major. This lo-
tus blossom is most hard work-
er on SHOWME Queen Contest
and Crystal Ball and aftermath,
trip to her hometown, St. Louis.
Velly talented girl and talent
extended most delightfully over
SHOWME St. Louis weekend. Be-
sides WAA chairmanship and
other activities, is one special
when Barbara spends special tal-
ent teasing; "I tease," she tell
Tackinoelshaw . . . is nice nice
and what is this like of four-
wheeled convertibles? Is most
confusing, to Kusan much.
*ENGAGED . Ah so, is pre-
senting most velly honorable G.
I., veteran OCS, Ft. Benning,
Georgia, Korea, University of
Missouri and illustrious SHOWME.
Delightful p i c t u r e illustrates
Greek talent to copy honorable
Nero haircut, fad of most eccen-
tric persons. Is LES GIBBS, wri-
ter aspirant whom humble Tacki-
noelshaw speak of. Rubaiyat is
bible of this honorable veteran
of SHOWME weekend. Is miracu-
lous $20 rescue by most unmis-
anthropic (number one word)
balladeer, that is greatest event
in Les' lowly professional stu-
dent life. Is seems after delight-
ful participation in splendorous
Chase Club shows (horrible gig-
gles plus hearty yahoo), is most
sad Les Gibbs with check and
no money. Is rescued filled with
delicious brew and still live to
be engaged again in illustrious
pursuit of writing career, "even
comic books if necessary." Won-
der why honorable Gibbs repeat
philosophical utterance that "time
is just a moment" so many times?
Is speakee sayonara.
*Is copytake from dishonorable
Manny paper.
TIGER LAUNDRY & DRY CLEANERS
NEWMAN'S JEWELRY
THE STEIN CLUB
Camel