Missouri Showme March, 1952Missouri Showme March, 195220081952/03image/jpegPublications & Alumni CommunicationsThese 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, Missouri108show195203Missouri Showme March, 1952; by Students of the University of MissouriColumbia, MO 1952
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Missouri Showme
March
25 cents
To the Woods Issue
GARLAND'S
Puckett's
Central
DON L. SMALL G-E STORE
Greenspon's
Letters
Dear Editor,
On our fair campi where SPIR-
IT, without "spirits" just ain't
been heard of in the stronghold
of Arts and Sciene. I, fer one, am
DANG proud to be a member of
the hogcalling clan!
Agitated Aggie
"Your clan and my clan may be
our land someday." But sincerely,
don't agitate at us. We're just too
agreeable today-Ed.
Dear Slob.
We are two girls writing on be-
half of two-thousand! Why do we
always have to be the object of
your sarcasm and redicule? Aft-
er all. We could have come to
M.U.
Disgustedly,
Sue Graves
Sue Siddall
And. I imagine you do, on oc-
casion. On the other hand, I'm
jealous_ because I COULDN'T
have come to your unique insti-
tution-Ed.
Dear Dad,
Yer, mag's hep, O.K., but at
times you don't "come through"
to all us, yeah. Do yu dig my beat
Poppa? Ah's got eyes for a col-
umn on whut th' peasants call
music but what is really "Gone to
J'ruslum JIVE" Which is whut ah
digs dad. It's whut ah digs.
From the keyboard to you'sa
A Crazy, Crazy Dixielan' Fan
What is this "Dad, Poppa" biz?
They put people in jail for black-
mail and besides pan-hell has a
rule against it-Ed.
Please-you're stepping on my
knee.
Dear Sir,
I was an avid Showme fan
when I attended Missouri a good
many years ago and was very in-
terested to pick up a recent issue
while.visiting a friend who has a
son at M.U. I enjoyed your mag-
azine very much though it cer-
tainly was different when I was
there, (26 through 28). I am en-
closing three dollars and would
appreciate being put on your
mailing list.
Dr. William Maxton
Kansas City, Missouri
Hah.another stray lamb brought
back to the fold-Ed.
Dear Mr. Editor, Sir;
Why isn't my name on your
damn subscription list. you're
just a bunch of pack rats. no
appreciation . have you heard
this joke. supposed to be true
. and then he said.LAUGH
DAMMIT. here's three bucks
don't spend it all on beer.
Love,
Mr. Edward Overholser
(A successful alumnus)
Texarkana, Arkansas
You know better'n that Eddy-Ed.
Central Missouri Booking Agency Presents
Coca-Cola
ERNIE'S STEAK HOUSE
TWA
MISSOURI
TELEPHONE COMPANY
Zymotics
By Greller
Well, Brotherhood Week is ov-
er, and we don't have to talk to
anyone again until next year. Na-
tional statistics on dope addiction
show that one out of every 3000
are users. That allots about 7%
for the University, and just our
luck, they're on Disciplinary
Board. Liz Taylor is going to turn
into a Tin Lizzy if she doesn't
stop this nonsense, marrying a 91-
year-old Englishman who is con-
fined to a bathtub for life. And
the studio finally revealed Liz's
true age as 13. Even Mother Tay-
lor is getting perturbed and
threatens to intervene in the next
such occurrence.
I understand that Lampe (fel-
lo-columnist) is the only boy on
campus with cashmere finger and
toe nails. Not only does he smoke
the finest of cashmere cigarettes
but every night before retiring
he indulges in a cashmartini, con-
sisting of 1 jigger of an old lique-
fied cashmere sock, a bit of
sparkling alpalca and an angora
olive.
Question of the Week???? IS
HITLER STILL ALIVE AND IS
IT TRUE THAT HE IS rTH
FORMER RECENT U.S. GRAD-
ER AND THE CURRENT COPY
READING I GRADER? The
graders have organized into kind
of a branch of the DAR, only it's
the SMVFAS (Sadists of Mis-
souri Valley and Foe of all Stu-
dents). They sit around at meet-
ings in the archeology specimen
room sipping green tea out of
old skulls (of past students) and
compare F's. Then they sing their
theme song, "What is That Fool-
ish Grade Called S?" E is com-
pletely extinct. I hereby declare
Open Season for graders.
My nomination for the pic of
the month, *** 3 falling stars for
Distant Drums, a Budget Movie
in Technicolor, Gary Cooper
plays the parts of an army officer
and an Indian Scout. It takes
place in a resort in Florida in the
year 1830 and things haven't
changed there a bit since, besides
the cost of Indians and living.
Gary and the boys are sent
out to destroy an arsenal and
some nasty gun runners who
have been supplyin' munitions to
even nastier Seminoles. The men
reach the arsenal in Kon-Tiki and
destroy it, but are forced to re-
turn to their camp through the
death-defying everglades. Three-
fourths of the flicker is spent
with exactly the same Seminoles
racing wildly through exactly the
same woods, shrieking the Bell
Song from Lachme. They pause
once in a while to do a mad
mambo. Really fab with Krupa,
Hamp and Slam on the Distant
Drums. The Seminoles were also
very charmingly adorned in silk
paisley frocks and scalp lavaliers.
At the arsenal ,the men picked up
a blonde chick, a Hollywood new-
comer, but I recognized Simone-
Simone making her comeback.
(Continued on page 20)
KAMPUSTOWNE
GROCER
Julie's
H.R. Mueller
Florist
Tiger Laundry & Dry
Cleaning Co.
Miller's
editor's
ego
The time has come to speak in
terms both filthy and lewd. I
read an article recently that stat-
ed, a well-fed person has less sex-
ual motivation than does a starv-
ing one. This does not only ac-
count for the over-population in
certain Asiatic nations, it also ex-
plains why coeds diet. The conse-
quent assumption being; Skinny
dolls. neck?
NOTICE: To all university stu-
dents living. Do you have a
'Dean's excuse'?
Last year Showme initiated a
parody issue and in response to
popular demand (that's as good
a reason as any) we will parodize
that infamous treatise, for men
only, True. For that month (and
that month only) Patty Kilpat-
rick will be known as Paddy or
Patrick.
Once more the election bug has
bitten the campus. A.C.T., collo-
quially referred to as Act will box
ballots with M.U.S.T., otherwise
known as Must. A well-known
'Female-on- Campus' remarked
while slightly in her teacups that
she thought both names were
"cute", which is, perhaps, a fairly
accurate description of the whole
affair.
They tell me that the latest ad-
dition to the well-rounded 'col-
lege-kids' vocabulary is "She, He,
It; Was, Is, or Will Be, 'Game'."
As in "She is one hell of a 'Game'
doll." Isn't that just dandy.
Showme has received a lot of
manuscripts lately that we've had
to reject because they were too
'causeish' or bitter. Showme's on-
ly cause is entertainment. There
is enough flag-waving and miscel-
laneous expounders of profound
suppositions lose as it is. If oc-
casionally a crumb of diatriabe
slips into some of Showme's copy
it is through, not choice, but im-
perfection on our part. We're con-
tent to leave the philosophizing
to more sedate campuses.
Sincerely,
Well, Higly, not much like the old 8:00 MWF is it?
Missouri
Showme
Contents
Why Boys Get Pinned __--_ Bill Ashlock
The Angello Case _---- Litner R. Mayfield
I Dodged the ROTC _ Name withheld
The Frolics Bergere -------- The Staff
The Showme Queen Ballot _-_--
Lunacy, Lust and Lampe -- _____
Zymotics - .__ _ Greller, by Gosh
Staff
Editor: Herb Knapp; Business Manager: Dude Haley; Advertis-
ing Manager: Peggy Marak; Publicity Director: Hank Marder;
Associate Editor: Pat Kilpatrick; Feature Editor: Joe Gold;
Photo Editor: Jack Brown; Art Editor: Bill Braznell; Secret-
aries: Scoty Hickock,. Patsy Reedy, Katherine Ryan, MaryAnn
Fleming, Joey Bellows; Artists: Bill Andronics, Madge Fisher,
Jack Frost, Bill Gale; Photos: Marie Rundberg, Jim Kahrol,
Henn Liiv; Features: Jim Anderson, Keith Lampe, Rube Erwin,
Joyce Greller; Joke Editors: Maralee Cotton, Lois Via; Circula-
tion Manager: Tom Walsh; Circulation Staff: Bill Brooks, Jack
Bowman, Don Olsen, John Judge, Bob Hyde; Publicity: Pat Os-
good, Fat Kotolov, Jan Hembry, Bob Eubanks.
Volume 28 March, 1952 Number 7
SHOWME is published nine times, September through May, during the college year by the Students of the University
of Missouri. Office: 304 Read Hall, Columbia, Mo. All copyrights reserved. Unsolicited manuscripts will not be ret.rned
unless accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped envelope. Advertising rates furnished on request. National Advertis-
ing Representative: W. B. Bradbury Co., 122 E. 42nd St., New York City. Printer: Modern Litho-Print r'-. Jefferson
City, Mo. Price: 25c a single copy; subscriptions by mail $3.00. Office hours: 1:30 to 3.30 p.m., Monday through
Friday, 304 Read Hall.
In the spring, as Hinkson calls
Float through the air, and study palls,
Smaller classes and more dates
Show collegians seeking mates.
8
Around The Columns
Overheard
A student coming out of the
back of Jesse Hall the other day
found a ticket on his car. He ap-
proached the University traffic
man who was gleefully tagging
everything in sight.
"Where can I appeal this?"
said the irate student.
"Ha!" snarled the watchman.
That's all.
Showme Fights Prejudice
It's finally happened. The Am-
erican Legion, a formerly demo-
cratic organization, has denied
membership to an honorably dis-
charged veteran of World War II
This deplorable attitude on the
part of the Legion brings tears to
the eyes of all old Americans
who witnessed the founding of
this country on a basis of equal-
ity for all 176 years ago. These
same aging relics wept when
Lincoln spoke at Gettysburg and
more recently when Harry Tru-
man unveiled the federal budget
for the coming fiscal year.
Showme, always ready to de-
fend the oppressed, upholds the
.right of this poor, discriminated
against, individual to join the:
American Legion.
And just because he was a
German Shepherd, named Spud.
The Bitter Half
Just to prove that Showme is
not bitter, we'd like to print the
editor's advice to the steff, just
as it lies, unread on the bulletin
board in the office:
"Showme will not tolerate bit-
terness on the part of its writers,
artists, or editors."
So, if you read anything that
smacks of bitterness, say to your-
self, "This is not bitter. This can-
not be, for the editor says it must
not be so, and isn't' the editor al-
ways right?"
Look Around, Ezio
One of the newest (and we
use the term advisedly) sensa-
tions in television is a decrepit
old Italian count, Renzo Cesana,
who pitches woo at the female
viewers in the wee hours -of the
night. Billed as "The Continen-
tal" he focuses his eyes on the
camera and delivers a verbal se-
duction, while offering cham-
pagne and cigarettes to the non-
existent loved one. Every wom-
an who watches gets the feeling
that it is she alone, whom he is
seducing. Even the menfolk get a
big charge out of it, as they sit
around the screen writing down
helpful hints on how to seduce
the objects of their affections.
Cesana's success lies in making
each female viewer feels that she
is alone in his apartment and her
little heart goes pitter pat, won-
dering whether the sexy glance
flipped at her under the droop-
ing eyelashes meant what she
thought it meant.
We understand Pinza has filed
with the patent office for a viola-
tion of his exclusive invention-
December feeding April a line of
accented bull.
Let's Not Be Naive
We recently received a literary
magazine from a girls' school in
New Jersey. It was their first is-
sue, so it was understandable.
The title was the "Horn Book".
We have several ideas on the
derivation of the title, but we'd
prefer to snicker over them by
ourselves.
Anyway, they printed the fol-
lowing as their "Credo":
"What is the nature of the re-
sponsibility of a student publica-
tion toward its readers? Should
it simply reflect the tastes and
ideas of its audience, or does it
have another function, another
responsibility? The question.
is one which all student publica-
tions must ultimately face.
"It seems to us that a student
publication is not a mirror; for it
is committed to other purposes.
"The function of a campus lit-
erary magazine, for instance, is
not to please the largest common
deiominatc.: of its readers; its
function is, rather, to develop
creative talent on campus. To this
9
purpose the editors of Horn Book
dedicate themselves."
Their sentiments touch us
deeply, and we might even admit
that we agree with them, but the
absence of a price on their cover
shows that they are as subsidized
as New Deal potatoes. Such bliss-
ful disregard for finance is
heartwarming in these days of al-
most extinct SAVITARS and
grubbing Showme ad men. Quel
naivete!
Naughty, Naughty
As a word of warning we
should like to mention a recent
rule adopted by the M Men's
Club of the University. The club
has prohibited the wearing of
high school letters on campus. So,
for those of you who have been
proudly sporting letters won in
high school for band, glee club,
or football, yuh better watch out.
'Cause the big bad mens is out
to get you.
Yes Sir, Mr. Kenton
While all-school dances are
run to the strains of local Petril-
loites, we notice that the Military
Ball will feature Stan Kenton et
al. (Who Al is, we don't know.)
We're not griping, because it has
just been brought to our atten-
tion that it's passe, but we'd like
to be able to tell papa that we
spend his money dancing to T.D.'s
or Ralph, or almost anyone he's
heard of. Not that Yma Sumac
and her Incan Six aren't good,
but names are important. It's be-
ginning to look like you have to
play the old army game to get
anywhere with musicians these
days.
Juiced in Gabe's
The switch in Gaebler's policy
from non-coffee-like coffee to
non-beer-like beer has revolu-
tionized the jellying habits of
Missourians. For generations
Gabe's has catered to the coffee
drinkers, only to discover recen-
tly that the Shack was probably
making more money.
Now, for a small sum one can
drink 3.2 Budweiser and intimi-
date coffee drinkers in surround-
ing booths. Maybe we're old-
fashioned but we kind of liked
the dead, quiet atmosphere of
the afternoon in Gabe's.
Homely Hominies
While taking a course in Col-
ege Algebra, we were required
to read an article in a homemak-
ers' magazine entitled "I'm a
Homely Woman". It was termed
outside reading, and so I spent
mnany days in the glorious, fresh
Hinkson air, reading it, and try-
ing to figure out what it had to
do with the course. We finished
,the article, but not the course.
The first page showed an ob-
viously gorgeous brunette with
her head in her hands, probably
trying to decide whether to make
an Aggie or a Business student
her late date for that evening.
We concluded that someone was
frustrated. The author, the girl
in the picture, or us.
Then we tried to find the rea-
son for this type of beauty frus-
tration. We aren't psychiatrists,
but it is quite evident that the
type of advertising to which we
are subjected has a great deal to
do with it.
Have you ever seen an adver-
tisement that pictured a homely
male or female drinking Goob-
er's Mouth Wash? Hog Wash! Of
course you haven't, and we
doubt that you ever will. Every
girl who gets engaged because she
uses Cement Hand Lotion makes
the average girl look like she
needs plastic surgery, and fast.
Every girl who models brassieres
makes Jane Russell second bust.
No wonder we feel bad. People
just don't look like that, and the
odds are, they never will.
We even wince at pictures of
huge, "Me Hongry" jokers urg-
ing us to buy this bathing suit, or
that five o'clock shadow remover.
We're just puny, average, semi-
homely humans, so why have
kittens about it? Huh?
Swearing of the Green
It has recently come to our at-
tention that a small clique on
campus, known as engineers, St.
Paddy's boys, or Slide Rule
Slims, have for years been pub-
lishing a magazine featuring a
couple of pages with the very or-
iginal title of AROUND THE
COLUMNS. It's not that we ob-
ject to this shrewd piece of en-
gineering piracy, but would we
go around printing on the finer
aspects of the Brooklyn Bridge?
The answer, obviously, is no!
Who the hell would understand.
it? So, we shriek, "For shame!
Little helpers of St. Patrick."
Mourning Becomes Harvard
The last stronghold of Ameri-
can freedom has fallen with the
anouncement that Harvard Un-
dergraduates may no longer en-
tertain female visitors in their
rooms after eight o'clock in the
evening. We have always consid-
ered it amazing, that, with such
an arrangement in the past, Har-
vard should remain an all-male
school. After all, the odds are
still about even on a baby being
a boy or a girl.
Ray of Hope
One passionate recording artist
is the cause of our flunking our
first exam this semester. His
male? female? banshee wail?
type of yodeling has brought
tears to the eyes of lesser men
than we. However, at his? hers?
its? rendition of something that
sounded like "The Small White
Nimbus That Bawled its Damn
Eyes Out," we flooded our An-
cient and Medieval textbook with
so many tears that even Breasted
couldn't stop weeping right in
the middle of Ramses' harem.
Somebody, please give the neuro-
tic warbler a handkerchief and
directions to the nearest bridge
of sufficient height, and we
might be able to Wrench an M
out of the course. Thank you,
music lovers.
Littature
We note with interest the in-
auguration of a new literary
magazine on this campus. The
kids are ready to take their first
leap into the pitfall-fraught
world of commercialism, and
Showme, as always, is prepared
to lend a hand, but not a dime,
to the fledgling's initial flight.
This will now set up a direct
channel between this magazine's
rejection file and the printer's
desk for the new magazine. If it
were to be a humor mag, we
could promise to laugh, but since
it is to be "the finer things" they
will probably go so far over our
grubbing heads, that we shall
have to retire to one of the local
saloons (and there are many)
and discuss the pros and convicts
of San Quentin.
What's this foul rtimor that's
been floating around about run-
ning a "Tom of Tarts" to compete
with the well-known J of H?
The Oldest Profession
Last month the AWS Careers
Conference confiscated all the of-
fices in Read Hall to hold their
gabfest on "Which Professional
Do You Prefer?" The professions
assigned to each office were re-
lated to the various offices. For
instance, musicians used the mu-
sic room, journalists used the
Student offices, and somebody
used our office. All we are sure
of is that it was some kind of rec-
reation. We found pamphlets all
over our ordinarily meticulously
clean floor, exhorting the poor
wenches to get some recreation.
We consider it an insult to this
magazine to be used for indoc-
trination into recreational profes-
sions. After all we are important.
We serve a much needed func-
tion on this campus. Anyone who
can tell us what, will be welcom-
ed with open arms any day of
the week save the middle five at
the Showme office, 302 Read
Hall.
But what profession was our
room used for? We'll pay five
bucks anytime to find out.
J.G.
Yeh-"Can't go drinking tonight"-yeh-"Big test tomorrow-got-
ta hit the books" Yeh, yeh-George, I'm talking to you.
BOY'S GET
PINNED
(THE REAL REASON)
Have you, in the past, considered, accepted,
or rejected a "pin"? Read on young lover.
Learn the INSIDE!!
by Bill Ashlock
Late one miserable night as I
was strolling back to my butane
tank, I chanced to notice a
strange commotion on the porch
of a sorority house. It was par-
tially obliterated by the driving
rain and claps of thunder, so I
crept closer to get a good look. A
flash of lightning lit the sky re-
vealing a group of men huddled
together.
Horrible thoughts began to run
through my ganglia. "Had there
been a death?. birth?"
Tippy-toeing still closer, I no-
ticed that some had bowed their
heads in reverent silence while
others sobbed and moaned. "No!
Wait . the poor dogs were sing-
ing!" I caught something about a
"coffee cup" or some sort of cup.
Totally mystified, I turned to-
ward the sorority house and was
12
astonished to see fifty or sixty
sopping wet Arabic girls on their
knees praising "Allah."
In a passion of sympathy, I
burst into the midst of the crowd
asking if there was anything I
could do. The chanting continu-
This is a serenade. It is when the
old gang gets together to holler
encouragement at a friend who
thinks he has a doll on the verge.
They are singing "Don't Do It."
Later they will all make bets.
ed. A boy and girl were in the
center of the group rigorously
grappling with each other. Then
it clearly dawned on me that the
crowd had gathered to root for
either one or the other to win.
"I'm for the boy. How 'bout
you?" I blurted to the tall young
chap standing next to me. With
that, I let out a harsh whistle,
several rounds of boisterous ap-
plause, and shouted "Come on,
fella. I'm behind 'ja boy. Let's
go now!"
There was a sickening sil nee
and I became the object of all at-
tention. "This is a pinning sere-
nade fella," came a hoarse v.ice
from somewhere in the crowd, at
which time I was thoroughly
pummeled.
Ever since that fateful event I
have been probing into the ques-
tion "Why? What is it that drives
these red blooded young R.O.T.C.
heroes to the 'ultimate end' in
college romance?"
One reason easily de-
ducted from my related experi-
ence, being that a pinning sere-
nade would offer a good oppor-
tunity for a fellow to get even
with his fraternity brothers. First
he calls the weather man and ar-
ranges for a serenade. Having set
the date, he begins to look for a
girl that will concede to wear his
pin. And finally he witnesses "he
fulfillment of his desires on that
glorious night, when the heavens
open up and send their wondrous
message down upon his brothers,
not with the sound of angel
choirs and golden harps, but in
the form of "light freezing rains
with the possibility of scattered
snow flurries and a ten degree
drop in temperature for Colum-
bia and vicinity tonight."
Another prime motivation that
leads to the "big lunge" is the
fact that boys who are pinned are
usually granted certain extra lib-
erties by the sorority It was ru-
mored last year that sorority set
the curfew at 1:30 for pinned
couples on 10:30 nights and at
4:00 o'clock on Friday and Satur-
day nights.
Some houses grant what are
known as "rambling priveleges."
The story goes that an innocent
young, sorority pledge was once
seriously shocked due to a cute
case of exposure. She had just
capered from her room, revealing
everything but her x-ray photo-
graphs, when she came face to
face with a hoody looking frat
man. Her lower lip plumetted to
the floor.
"Man on second," she hoarsely
whispered in a vain attempt to
warn her sorority sisters.
"Save your breath sister,"
grunted the hood as he pulled a
card from the secret pocket of
his Captain Midnight strato-jack-
et. "Rambling priveleges!"
L. G. Balfour & Co. has also
done much to promote the insti-
tution of pinning. The other day
I noticed an advertisement offer-
ing "A LARGE FAMILY SIZE
GIRL" for each purchasing cus-
tomer. In addition the company
has marketed a brand new red,
white and green sweetheart pin,
featuring a portable stop sign
that glows under water, a liquid
cooled radial engine, and an en-
closed picture of Mandrake the
Magician.
Can a boy in his right mind ig-
nore such gold-plated opportuni-
ties? I say "The WEDDING is
dead; long live the PIN."
THE END
Right: see the hand. See the pin.
This is the GAME thing to do;
away from home.
Below: Lookit the BIG picher.
This story was not long enough.
It's interesting though. We now
know how the noses fit.
The Angello Case
By Litner R. Mayfield
From the beginning the case
smelled like a pair of wrestler's
armpits. I pulled a coffin-nail
from my molested pack and lit it.
"Tony Angello". I figured the
chief was kidding when he put
me on Tony. O'Connor tried to
put the cuffs on this case a few
years back, and now he's six feet
under Forest Lawn. I gave the
butt a deep drag. I wasn't getting
anywhere holding down the side-
walk out here, so I walk through
14
the gate. I gave. the place the
once-over and once over was
enough. My face stopped in front
of plenty of door. I gave the cus-
tomary knock on the big brass
handle. A panel slid open, and a
raspy voice gave me the chill
treatment. I checked him out
quick.
"O.K., Frosty, let's make with
some latch action."
He pulled the old stall. "Whom
shall I say is calling?"
"Com'mon, Brighteyes, wiggle
the doorknob before I wiggle
your teeth."
I exhaled smoke through the
penal and let him cough for a
while. He knew I meant business
so he made the door swing. He
(Continued on page 22)
OUR HERO.
And maneuvers weren't too
bad. We worked out with Steph-
ens and it gave me a chance to
meet some girls. A few of them
did ask me out.
If it weren't for the camp fol-
lowers, the sweet dolls who you
could always count on after a
tough day, life wouldn't have
been worth living.
I DODGED
THE
ROTC
One day in the year 1939 dur-
ing recess, after a gruelling morn-
ing in kindergarten, 10 armed
men surrounded me and gave me
a khaki sock for my marbles just
for signing a little ole piece of
paper. I never thought about it
again, but every Christmas I got
a package of dehydrated rations.
In 1951 I entered the University
of Missouri. The same 10 men ap-
proached me with that slip of pa-
per one day in Gabe's, gave me
the other khaki sock, and rushed
me out the door. From that day
on, my life took on new meaning
I was in clutches of the ROTC.
Due to ignorance of the child la-
bor laws, I was detailed to a 68-
hour week of macadam drilling at
strickly salt mine wages. They
laughed when I called Joe Stalin
un-American, but their laughter
turned to amazement when they
saw Uncle Joey in the Ranks.
I was allowed to purchase a
lovely uniform for only $465. I
really looked smart.
One day when marching, I fell
into the clutches of a grasping
sorority girl. I learned two weeks
later that she was a secret agent
for the Foreign Legion. New
uniform . 465 rubles.
One day we received a talk on
practice formation by Major
Blanche Hobby. But is was usu-
ally drill, drill and more drill.
15
See the three frolicers. The one in the middle will play Nero. He
is lining up the strings on his fiddle. He is saying, ,'1 will fiddle-
you bet your sweet togas, I will fiddle."
Frolics.
Bergere
Well, fello dull-normals, Miz-
zou's attempted revival of Major
Boas' Amateur Hour has come
and fled. Major Eyler tried to
cover up most of the flaws, but
the curtain went up anyway.
Everyone overlooked the bow-
ed legs in the first chorus line.
The girls went to a dude ranch
between semesters. That's one
explanation of how they got themr
In between acts, the faculty
band directed by jazz-bow Mott
and featuring Satchmo Middle-
bush on the glockenspeel enter-
tained with a juicy version of
Grapes of Wrath. Jelly-roll Wiley
on the tuba was real gone.
The winning skit provided
good comic relief from the com-
edians. So what if funny man
Hoel did drain his material from
the Rosetta Stone and a local
mummy, Henri Bradshear.
General DeWeerd and his Ush-
er Corps handled everyone's seats
with experienced hands. Only a
few of the girls complained.
But amid the cheers of beam-
ing parents and deprived Steph-
ens girls, the '52 frolics was an
adequate sexcess, and a fair sub-
stitute for a silent film.
Incidentally, excuse the rehear-
sal pix, but our photographer
heard the girls practiced without
their G-strings.
These girls are playing around backstage.
Soon they will play around onstage. Aft-
er that they will play around offstage.
They like to play around. They are up-
perclass women. They know how to play
around!
These are why the faculty goes tothe frolics. These are appendages. The boy in the picturee is not interested
in these appendages. He is not a member of the faculty. He is crazy. The appendages will kick him.
16
photo of the month
See the girlies. They are rehearsing for the Big Show. Their director is sitting out front screaming, "Sell
it, sell it!" So whose buying?. Everyone except the photographer. He is angry because the girlies kept
squirming and blurring his pictures.
17
To The
(No. 1 "College D
woods
Version Series")
(Continued from page 5)
Six swamps, 2 cotton-tails and
1% alligatdrs later, she looks as
lovely as ever except for a small
smudge of her cheek. Of course,
she is accompanied by a servant
Arthur Treacher, who combs the
belle's tresses 8 times under var-
ious harrowing conditions. Inci-
dentally, Mickey Rooney was ex-
cellent in the lead alligator role.
He consumed 2½2 soldiers and
played each bite to the hilt. I
found out later that the hair
combing routine was a cheap
publicity stunt promoted by Toni,
You know, which Seminole is
wearing the scalp with the Toni?
Gary grunted his usual 30
words throughout the picture and
heroically pulls his troupe
through the Everglades to safety.
He does do a jazzy rendition of
Tiger Rag in the middle of one
of the swamp scenes.
Though well-disguised, we all
detected Bette Davis as Bogata,
the Indian Chief. She was superb
in the part. And instead of smok-
ing her usual 3 cartons of peace
pipes, she sublimated into chew-
ing tobacco, She was especially
magnificent in a final scene in
which she and Gary do a water
ballet number. The aquacade
ends with Bette getting it. A
knife through the ribs, that is.
With their Chief gone, the battle
is over, and the Seminoles race
back to their Happy Hunting
Grounds in the Everglades to
take showers and remove their
smelly, sticky make-up. There
are good Indians in the picture,
too, who aid the white men.
They are identified from the bad
Indians by their lack of Halitosis.
You see, they gargle with white
man's magic potion-Kreml. And
those Indians are getting so com-
mercial. Instead of dying like
they used to, each one goes
through a death scene that is
equivalent to Hamlet or Cyrano.
Anyways the film ends happily
with Gary returning home un-
wounded to his little son and
french poodle and taking the
blonde (almost brunette by the
of Arts and Science. I, fer one, am
nurse.
THE END
* *
Guide: We are now passing the
largest brewery in the world.
Student: I'm not.
Can I see the doctor?
Which doctor?
Do you think I'm a heathen?
A young couple, very anxious
to be married, went to see a lo-
cal judge. "Impossible," said the
judge. "Even a special license
would take two days."
The would-be bride and groom
exchanged a look of misery, then
a smile appeared across the
man's face. 'Well," he suggested,
"couldn't you say a few words
just to tide us over the week-
end?"
Toastmaster introducing a
speaker: I'm sure that Mr. Jones
of the soils and fertilizer dept.
will give you a pleasant half hour
He is just full of his subject.
nEUHomm'S
CREDO
We can gripe and itch and yell;
We can raise all sorts of hell;
It does no good with censor's
veto,
But this is our SHOWME credo
No Science nor Art do we respect
We shall damn them all to heck,
But when the censor thumbs his
nose,
It comes out mighty like a rose.
-J.G.
I think that I shall never see
A girl refuse a meal that's free;
A girl whose hungry eyes aren't
fixed
Upon a drink that's being mixed;
A girl who won't forever wear
A bunch of junk to match her
hair;
A girl who looks at boys all day
And figures ways to make them
pay.
Girls are loved by jerks like me
"Cause who would want to kiss
a tree!"
Little Boy: Do you love me?
Little Girl: Uh-huh.
Little Boy: Then why doesn't
your chest heave like in the
movies?
Lafter
Thots
HINKWARD HO!
With hey and ho, Hinksonward
go
Old Mizzou's lads and lasses
Sounding on high the battle cry-
"To hell with books and class-
es!"
"While spring is sprung, and
hearts are young
And loyal to the mission,
We'll keep intact by 'loving act'
A helluva good tradition!"
-John Wiseman
Bob says that he must be get-
ting old; can't take "Yes" for an
answer anymore.
While preparing for a formal
dinner, a matron who was suffer-
ing from a bad cold tucked one
hanky up her sleeve and one in
her bosom to carry her through
the evening. While she was using
the one up her. sleeve the other
-.ipped down around her waist.
At the height of the party, she
started to fish for the clean han-
ky. The other guests noticed her
actions, and she thought it best
to put their minds at ease with an
explanation. "I can't, understand
it," she said, "I know I had two
when I came."
21
You wouldn't do this John, if you really loved me.
Medium or well done.
(Continued from page 14)
gave me the nod to hang on to
his heels, so I followed him into
the next room. I encountered a
black dress in a green room. The
back of it was framed against a
big window. Cigarette smoke
made a halo above bleached hair.
Iknew she'd seen my reflection in
the glass, but she gave me that
"I don't know you're there"
routine.
"Hey, baby."
She turned her black dress
slowly around as I knew she
would with those words. She
gave me the slow smile and an
uplifted eyebrow.
"Well?" Her lips made an em-
brace of the word. She let me run
my eyes over her shape. A pair of
legs growing out of three inch
pumps made .their way over to
me. If I'd been a foot shorter she
would have gouged my eyes out.
"I'm not interested in the front
around here, Baby. Where's the
wheel around this joint?" Sl e
closed in. I could feel wa m.
smokey breath on my neck as she
answered.
"Don't give me the quiz show.
Big Boy," she exhaled French
style. "Do you have an appoint-
ment?"
She looked out of the corners
of her eyes. "I suppose you
could, if you really tried."
"No, Hot Lips, could I make
one?"
"No doubt, but tell me, where's
the head for that Homberg over
there?" She followed my thumb
to the hat rack in the corner.
"What's wrong, Handsome, am
I boring you?"
I looked down.
"I know," she answered. Her
stark black dress brushed against
me, and she raised her lips slight-
ly. "What's the matter, Hand-
some, my lips too sticky?" Her
voice sounded like someone
stroking velvet with a rooster
feather.
"Naw, I just don't want to ruin
the press in my suit."
"You can always take your
suit off, you know." She moved
in.
"I know, Baby, but I also press
my underwear." I sat on the edge
of the desk. "Com'mon, Honey,
out with it. Where's the boss?
Where's he hang-." I stood up
and she poured into my arms.
"I like you," she sighed.
"That's not unusual, Honey,
Most babes do."
She tried to catch another
goodie, but I pushed her back.
"Enough of this eat face, Baby. I
came here on business!"
"You asked for it, Hot Shot!!"
She pushed a button.
I grabbed her wrist. "I always
ask for it."
Just then a knob turned and a
door opened. Muscles stacked six
feet high filled the door. For a
minute I thought I better make a
quick departure, but when thick
fingers grabbed my collar and a
(Continued on page 24)
Moon Valley Villa
Juanita Thurman,
Gentry Hall
Jean Carpenter
Gentry Hall
Suzan East
Gentry Hall
CHOOSE YOUR 1952
Missouri
Showme QUEEN
In addition to the fabulous array of prizes await-
ing the Showme Queen in Saint Louis, Columbia
merchants contributing to her majesties coffers
include:
* INA THORPE, FLORISTS
* BUCHROEDERS JEWELRY STORE
* GARLAND'S
* MILLER'S SHOE STORE
* BALFOUR COMPANY
* ERNIE'S STEAK HOUSE
* LAMB'S JEWELRY STORE
* THE LEDO BEAUTY SHOP
* CAMPUS BEAUTY SHOP
BALLOT BOXES WILL BE LOCATED AT THE
FOLLOWING SHOWME SALES STANDS
WATERS, MUMFORD, ENGINEERING, HILL
B & PA AND JESSE
Barbara Jones
Johnston Hall
Montine Click
Templecrome II
SHOWME QUEEN BALLOT
Juanita Thurman (Gentry) ...........
Jean Carpenter (Gentry)........
Suzan East (Gentry) .........
Barbara Jones (Johnston) ................
Montine Click (Templecrome II)
CHECK ONE
23
(Continued from page 22)
wadded fist hung one on me, I
decided to stay around just to see
how the fight would come out. I
let another one sink into my mid-
section before I got mad. I took
a quick duck and came up with a
fist full of nitro. A short upper-
cut showed me bare soles point-
ing at the ceiling. I straightened
my tie. "Still trying to ruin the
press in my suit, eh, Sugar?"
"My! You're rugged."
"Yeah," I said, adjusting my
shoulder padding.
"What's your name?" She ran
her fingers through my hair.
"The handle's Shovel. Sam
Shovel. But you can call me Lov-
er-Lip for short-but not for
long."
"Oh, Shovel," she said stroking
my face.
"Cut it out, Baby. Now tell me,
where's the mainspring?"
She gave up. "In there, Wise
guy." She pointed angrily to a
door.
"Thanks. I'll buy you a beer
sometime." I strolled through the
door and a bruiser came up from
nowhere. He offered me knuckles
to chew on, but I ducked. I pull-
ed out my .38 and blurted. "I
don't suppose Santa would mind
if I opened your head before
Christmas!" I pulled the trigger
six times. His head looked like a
snood. I kicked his body out of
the way and went into the big
office.
Behind a huge mahogany desk
sat a twenty-five cent cigar with
lots of men hanging onto the end
of it. His big flabby jowls hung
down over his chin. He was a
jelly-fish. His fishy eyes looked
up.
"What do you want?"
"I just wanted to congratulate
you on your fine reception com-
mittee, Tony." I sat on the edge
of his desk and lit a smoke.
"Can't complain about it."
I strolled over to the liquor
cabinet, pulled out a Haig & Haig
pinch bottle, and poured myself
a drink. "O.K., Angello. Start
talking."
He stalled. "About what?"
I walked back to his desk and
mashed out my cigarette on the
polished maghogany. "Knock it
off and talk, Tony." I exhaled the
smoke in his eyes.
"I don't know what you're--"
Before he could finish, I was on
his peepers with my two gloved
hands.
He squirmed. I swatted his
slick face a few times. "Talk!"
My knees kissed his stomach.
"Squeal fast, Angello!" I wrap-
ped my gloved hand around
white, clean throat.
"Leggo!" His eyes were turning
red. I laced his ears.
"Talk" I shoved two quick
.ones at his kidneys.
"Aggh-stop-STOP Willya!" He
gasped in pain, "What do you
want to know?"
"TALK! Talk fast!" I rasped
I had him by the shoulders and
was beating his head against the
WAERS
Crossroads
Liquor Store
desk.
"Stop! STOP! You're cracking
it," he screamed.
"This is your last chance, An-
gello. Talk or your guts will
show. Talk! TALK!! TALK!!"
He took a sobbing breath. "Sam
SAM, what in hell do you wanna
know?"
"I'm asking the questions
around here." I slapped him with
the back of my hand, leaned over
and grabbed the phone. I dialed
8426. A voice said, "Yeah, Peer-
less Detective Agency."
"Chief. This is Shovel. What
was it you wanted to know from
Angello?"
The voice screamed back, "An-
gello? ANGELLO? Why you nit-
wit. I sent you out for a pack of
cigarettes three days ago. Where
the hell have you been?"
My face went flatter than a
warmed over beer. I hung up.
"Hey, Angello!"
"Yeah, yeah?" His fishy eyes
looked up at me. "What do you
want?"
Gimme a pack of smokes!"
THE END
I think she's priceless.
I know she is, I've tried.
$ ** *
Have you ever been a Maid of
Honor.
Oh, sure, but that was before
I met Tom.
It was high noon at the Mosque
The high priest was intoning,
"There is no God but God and
Mohamet is his prophet."
A voice broke in, "He is not."
The congregation turned and
there stood among the sea of
brown faces a small yellow face.
The priest straightened up and
said, "There seems to be a little
Confucian here."
* *
A girdle is an elastic supplement
to a stern reality.
A tramp steamer had struck a
mine and was slowly but surely
sinking in mid-ocean. The ship,
from the captain down, was man-
ned by as villainous a crew as
had ever been gathered. They
were now assembled on the slow-
ly submerging deck as the cap-
tain asked, "Can anyone sing a
hymn?" There was a shuffling of
feet but no reply. The captain tri-
ed again, "Can anyone say a
prayer?" Still no answer. The
captain looked his crew over in
disgust and grunted, "Well, we
ought to do something religious.
Let's take up a collection."
* * *
The salesman sat in the church
bored and dejected, while the
preacher rambled on about the
Ten Commandments. Suddenly
he reached Number 7 and inton-
ed: "Thou shalt not commit adul-
tery."
The salesman sat upright and
snapped his fingers. "Now I know
where I left my umbrella."
Gibson's
Apparel
Swami's
Snorts
Wife, in midst of argument
with hubby: "There's no use dis-
cussing things with you! We can't
agree on a single thing."
Hubby: "You're wrong. For in-
stance-if you entered a room
with two beds in it, a woman in
one and a man in the other, in
which would you choose to sleep?
Wife: "With the lady, of
course!"
Hubby: "That proves my point
-we agree. So would I."
A home-coming vet got a job
as a reporter -on a midwestern
daily. "Be brief!" the city editor
kept harping at him. "Always be
brief." The cub sat down and
wrote: "James C. Gilligan looked
up the shaft at the Union Hotel
today to see if the elevator was
coming down. It was. Age 33.
Student's prayer;
Onward, move onward,
0 time in thy flight,
Make the bell ring
Before I recite .
* **
Little Susie had been naughty,
and her mother suggested that
she mention the matter in her
prayers. She did so, and this is
what' she said before going to
sleep. "Dear Lord, I know I've
a bad litle girl, and I do wish you
would help me to be better, and
if at first you don't succeed, try,
try again."
Here's a toast to the girl who
steals lies and swears-steals in-
to your arms, lies there and
swears she loves you.
"I'm a pauper."
"Congratulations, boy or girl?"
My brother was fooling around
with a buzz saw and had his
hand taken off at the wrist.
Poor guy, my brother was fool-
ing around with a grass widow
and got his hand taken off at the
knee.
Spring Fashion Notes: Young
ladies will be wearing the same
thing in sweaters this year.
A young thing stepped cn the
drugstore scales after eating a
giant sundae and she was shock-
ed at what she beheld.
She slipped off her coat and
tried it again. The results were
still unflattering, so she slid off
her shoes. then she discovered
she was out of pennies. Without a
moment's hesitation, the lad be-
hind the soda fountain stepped
forward.
Don't stop now, he volunteered,
I've got a handful of pennies and
they're all yours.
LIFE SAVER CONTEST RULES
1. Pair up actual U.S. town
names. Examples: From RYE, N.
Y., to BOURBON, Ind. From
SOFT SHELL, Ky., to LITTLE
CRAB, Tenn. Send as many pair-
ings as you like.
2. The odder the names-and
the more amusing the relation-
ship between the two-the better
your chances will be.
3. First prize winner will be
sent $50. Second prize $25, third
prize $10 and three $5 prizes-
Contest closes June 30, 1952. All
entries should arrive at Life Sav-
ers, Port Chester, not later than
June 30, 1952 to qualify. All en-
tries become the property of Life
Savers, and prize-winning com-
binations may be used in future
.advertisements, together with the
names of the winners. In case of
ties duplicate prizes will be
awarded. Simply mail your entry
to LIFE SAVERS, PORT CHES-
TER, N.Y.
Life Savers
filched
* . and please try not to roll tonight, will you? We're having copany
tomorrow and I can't have a decent table cloth if you're
gonna wrinkle the sheets.
"April Fooll"
Sudden Service
Cleaners
Ina Tharp
Florist
Swami's
Snorts
Mixed Emotions: Man seeing his
mother-in-law backing over a
cliff in his new Cadillac.
* * 0
A British sailor dancing with a
young thing in a very lowcut
gown at the Canteen dance, blurt-
ed out politely, "Beg pardon,
Miss- is the V for Victory?"
"That's right," she said sweet-
ly. "But the bundles are not for
Britain."
The birds do it
The birds do it
The bees do it
The bats do it
Join the Air Force.
The essence of humor is corn;
The main part of corn is the ker-
nel;
A colonel stays a colonel if he's
friends with the general;
A general remains a general if
he's known in the Pentagon;
A Pentagon has five sides;
A page has four sides;
On some four-sided pages the
writing runs out and a space
filler is needed;
This is a space filler.
* **
Two maids were discussing men.
"Which would you desire most in
a husband," asked one, "brains,
wealth or appearance."
"Appearance," snapped the other,
"and the sooner the better."
"Where are you?"
"I'm hiding."
"Dammit, where are you?"
"I've thrown myself away."
"Come out."
"No!"
"Yes."
"No."
"Listen, I'm gonna look for you
and when I find you, I'm going
to-"
"I'm in the closet."
See Prof, igneous in there.
Stuff
If this chemical were to explode, I'd be
blown through the roof-Now 'round
close so you can follow.
So this is your idea of a 'Nest
in the Woods.'
Before I die-tell me-did we get him?
29
BRADY'S
CAMPUS VALET
Swami's
Snorts
When descriptions are over,
My question is next,
"Never mind all this clowning
How's she feel about sex?"
* * *0
The aviation instructor, having
delivered a lecture on parachute
work, concluded:
And if it doesn't open-well
gentlemen, that's what is known
as 'jumping to a conclusion'."
* * *
Next to a beautiful girl, sleep
is the most wonderful thing in
the world.
His wife determined to cure
him of his bad ways, and with the
aid of a sheet and electric torch
transformed herself into a very
fair imitation of a ghost. Then
she went out to the drunkard and
shook him.
'Wash that?" murmered the to-
per.
"Satan," came the reply in a
sepulchral tone.
"Shake handsh, old horsh. I
married your sister."
Oh, Boone county is a hard coun-
ty,
and it mothers a college brood.
Its 3.2 bars hold hidden charms
For collegians so sinful and lewd.
-C.W.
The train was about to pull out
of the station when suddenly a
man ran out on the platform,
jumped on the train, threw sev-
eral suit cases into a berth and
then jumped off the train again
and ran down the platform.
"Have I got time to say good-
bye to my wife?" he yelled as he
passed the conductor.
"I can't tell,' replied the con-
ductor. 'That all depends on how
long you've been married."
Moon Valley Villa
Swami's
Snorts
While sitting by the steeple,
watching all the people.
The cards came out to play.
The polka-dots jumped up to
shout
Whoosits names 'ran all about
It was a most unusual day.
The Kahns and the crickets
Sang the St. Louie Blues,
The pryamids all gamboled and
the witches made the stew
The buildings all were tilted,
the sidewalks up and flew
Presidents rode kiddy kars and
skinned their bony knees
Monkeys drove the busses and
the Indians all were pleased
Schoolmarms found their books
all stuck.
Policemen shouted "Kick me,
Kick me once for luck."
Anyone with any sense
Had their mouths stopped up
with muck
These lines were inspired
by an intellectual desire
Because it's raining outside today
-C.W.
* *'*
Girls are just like cigarettes,
A fact you will admit;
You can't enjoy them properly.
Until you get them lit.
* * *
THE CHESTERFIELD
CHUCKLE CORNER
One carton of CHESTER-
FIELD cigarettes will be award-
ed each month to the person sub-
mitting the best joke to be run in
this column each month. Address
all entries to SHOWME, 302
Read Hall. This month's winner
is Mr. Stan Garst, 110 East
Broadway.
"A dumb girl is a dope.
A dope is a drug.
Doctors give drugs to relieve pain
Consequently;
A dumb girl is just what the doc-
tor ordered."
Hah, Hah, Stan that sure was
a corker. Hah, Hauuu.
CAMPUS
JEWELERS
Woolf Brothers
.Hound of the Month
Alf
Senior in ournalism . . I Bit-
a Gamma . Who's Who in
American Kennels . . For-
mer President of Long-Hair-
ed Dobermans (music hono-
rary) . . . B.O.W . . . Inde-
pendent as hell . 12.
Dog Dome, South Nome.
.Bitch of the Month
Tripod
Senior, unclassified . .Mys-
tical Three . . . DGA. . Yel-
low Cab Honorary. Var-
sity Flea Scratching . Prog-
enitor of three-legged off-
spring . . . Representative to
International Mutt Confer-
ence . 112 . . .Vicinity,
Bible College.
32
Lunacy
For several issues now, I've
been referring to me as we. But
us is tired of this and we think
me should call a screeching halt
to this pronominal mess.
So from now on, the eyes have
it.
I really hate to drag that ane-
mic Missouri Student into this
column time and time again. But
when it leads with its battered
chin, wot can a guy do?
Take this for example, gleaned
from that treasured issue of 25
the Feb:
"The Association for Better
Campus Government has sche-
duled talks on SGA and the elec-
tions to be held in Library Audi-
torium. The first discussion is
this Wednesday, and the topic is
"Why Have an SGA?"
Wow! And that's what I've al-
ways said. Why have an SGA?
I guess it's imperative, though,
that we build the egos of these
young men who leave behind
their combines and harvesters to
attend the University. Give
them meetings to attend and pet-
ty pointless topics over which to
argue.
Think of the consequences if
these Big Dealers were to come
home after a hard day slaving ov-
er a hot plow and be unable to
climb into a fresh pair of fatigues
and attend an action-packed, qua-
si-subcommittee meeting on the
rising prices of local movin' pitch-
er places.
How would they impress the
boys down yonder at the Gineral
Store?
At long last it appears as if
America is retreating toward
those Gay, Roaring Twenties.
Lust and
Certainly a step in the right
direction was taken with that
sensational jewel robbery in Kan-
sas City recently. Four men you'll
remember, wearing gloves
hoisted an elite dinner group of
$68,000 in gems, which is a shade
more than the Missouri Book
Store's daily handle.
The Kansas City Times noted
that the men talked quietly and
smoothly among themselves.
This gives me a theory. I don't
care whom the Kansas City gen-
darmes suspect. I say "Cherchez
les professeurs."
All professors whom I have had
the good fortune toknow talk qui-
etly among themselves. They do
this particularly when lecturing
to a large assembly in a vast are-
na-like classroom.
And from this great "herd" of
University professors certainly
four can be found who talk
smoothly.
Lampe
It's easy to find a motive. These
men, operating unsuccessfully on
salaries of $4000 or $5000 per an-
num, either had to come up with
some quick cash or play Russian
Roulette with all six cartridges.
Or perhaps the foursome origi-
nally had banded together to play
bridge, but had tired of the game.
Their conversation when plot-
"SUSIE STEPHENS" "By.bill6.rl"
Good Heaven's John--my Senior Sister.
3.3
ting this despicable deed could
quite conceivably have gone like
this:
"Pass."
"One heart."
"Two diamonds."
"Pass."
"Two hearts. But enough of
this. Let's buy some gloves and
knock over a dinner party. We
could probably get about $68,000
in gems."
"Pass."
"Three diamonds."
"Pass." Very well, but we'll
have to talk quietly and smooth-
ly among ourselves. I'll hit the
butler over the head with my pis-
tol butt. Where am I to get a pis-
tol butt?"
"Three hearts."
"Pass. Wouldn't a whole pistol
be better?"
After this Kansas City thing di-
ed down, I anxiously scanned
newspapers, hoping to see that
another Roaring Twenties inci-
dent took place somewhere in
this big nation.
But all I got for my efforts
were vague accounts of a few col-
orless killings.
So then he made me promise I
wouldn't cut it until we could be
married.
I had rather hoped that this
year we could read about one of
those old fashioned St. Valen-
tine's Day celebrations. It used
to be traditional on that day to
line up ten or twelve mugs and
punch them full of holes with ma-
chine gun slugs.
Did we get any action this
year? Heavens, no. People mere-
ly went about mailing silly, sen-
timental greeting cards to one an-
other.
Of course, looking at this from
a practical standpoint, a St. Val-
entine's Day party would waste a
great many machine gun bullets
which are sorely needed in Ko-
rea.
* * *
Red Cross blood quotas in Co-
lumbia have fallen far short in
recent months-and for good rea-
son. Blood people here have fail-
ed to lure members of the Uni-
versity's many mature drinking
organizations into donating.
Fortunately, there's a remedy
for this appalling lack of jingoism.
If these mercenary, drink deprav-
ed students will not submit to
having The Great Saver of Lives
siphoned from them in the con-
ventional manner, they should be
allowed, at the'ir convenience, to
cough up their 16-ounce sacrifice.
THE END
GOLDEN CAMPUS CLUB
Swami's
Snorts
Navy vet: While I was in the
South Pacific, I saw the strang-
est bird. It lays square eggs and
talks.
Freshman: What did it say.
Vet: Ouch.
A young coed brought charges
against an elderly professor and
had him sentenced to jail for a
long time. As he was led away, a
friend approached him.
"I know you're innocent," said
the friend, "Why did you plead
guilty?"
"Well," admitted the professor,
"The complaint was so flattering
I just couldn't resist it."
Hey, Mac, hold your voice down
-I'm getting your line mixed
with mine
Did you see that donkey fall
on 9th street yesterday and break
his leg?
Did they blame the driver?
No, they said it was the asphalt
She: Honey, you don't mind if I
wear velvet instead of silk, do
you?
He: No, dear, I'll love you
through thick or thin.
***
Law professor at registration:
So you're Pre-Legal, huh.
Student: Hell, no, I'm the
youngest in our family.
Then there were the two bees
who got married and had a little
bumble -from heaven.
* * *
Dear Son:
I just read in the paper that
students who don't smoke make
better grades than those who do.
Please think about this.
Love,
Father
Dear Father:
I would rather make an S and
have the enjoyment of smoking.
In fact, I would rather smoke and
drink and make an M; further-
more I would rather smoke and
drink and neck and make an I.
Love,
Son
Dear Son: I'll break your neck if
you flunk anything.
"Do you like olives?"
"Olive's what?"
The Novus
Shop
Contributors' Page
tom walsh
"Showme . Showme! Dammit
doesn't anybody want a Show-
me?" shivered little Tommy
Walsh as he gallantly held his
post at windy Memorial Tower.
A big bad law student happened
to be passing by and noticed the
plight of the brave little fellow.
A sympathetic tear rolled down
his bearded cheek. "After all, it
is Christmas," he thought as he
strolled over to the boy.
"Here son, I'll take one of your
magazines," he grunted. "Yeah,
and I guess one of those apples
too." Flipping a dime on the
table, he plodded off into the
darkness without his change.
Such are the experience's of
Showme's dynamic circulation
manager, Tom Walsh. A 4-foot-9
95 pound bundle of energy, Tom
has been circulating for the
Showme ever since last Septem-
ber.
Although only 19 years old,
Tom, Tom the Atom Bomb, has
been bearing the responsibilities
of a department head with the
efficiency of a man of 20.
Dutifully branded into the Or-
der of Sigma Alpha Epsilon, Tom
resides in Kansas City, is a stu-
dent in Arts and Science, and has
offices at "Shack 208 and 209."
36
joyce greller
With the wild shriek of the
Arabian goose, it whistles
through the fog at the end of a
straining chandelier, then drops
cat-like upon the awe strucken
victim. Yes, Greller is here!
A possessor of one of the most
active imaginations on the staff.
Joyce Greller has been one of
Showme's dependable feature
writers for the past five months
as well as a main stay in the
publicity corps.
"I received my first inspiration
to write while receiving a throat
spray at the University clinic,"
modestly giggled Joyce in a per-
sonal interview, "but for Heav-
en's sake don't put that in the
article."
Besides sapping Webster's Dic-
tionary for communist propagan-
da, advertising Kelly for Showme
Queen," and painting murals in
the bathtub, Joyce also manages
to attend a few classes in J-school.
Presently residing in Chicago,
"Gladu", as her name was pro-
nounced in French Equatorial Af-
rica, stowed away on a banana
boat and came to America at a
tender age. She is now 21, and
though a confirmed Hindu, will
continue to support Wilkie in
the next election.
bill braznell
One of the most talented con-
tributors that ever graced the
pages of Showme with the artis-
tic finesse of sheer genius in the
field of cartooning was. Carol
Braznell. She unfortunately de-
cided to leave school however,
and her brother Bill, has been
granted the position of art editor.
Born with a paint brush in his
mouth, a Froidian complex and
an undying love for the Police
Gazette, Bill has turned out some
fine "nasties" since he enlisted
last November.
"Up at the crack of noon every
day," boasts the red blooded
"Jack Armstrong" of M.U., as he
mercilessly beats on his punctur-
ed lungs, "that's my secret to
success." Actually he functions
best with a 102 degree fever and
sustains himself on morphine,
beer and bananas.
Young Braznell is twenty years
of age, a member of the Phi Kap-
pa Psi Frat Club and hails from
Manhasset, New York.
Probably the most courageous
of all university students, Bill is
frantically struggling through his
first year in the School of Jour-
nalism.
Harzfeld's
Camel Cigarettes