Missouri Showme November, 1954 Missouri Showme November, 1954 2008 1954/11 image/jpeg Publications & Alumni Communications These 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 Collection University of Missouri Digital Library Production Services Columbia, Missouri 108 show195411

Missouri Showme November, 1954; by Students of the University of Missouri Columbia, MO 1954

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Missouri Showme November 1954 25 cents A Political Satyr TALLEN BEVERAGE Distributor Pucketts Missouri Showme J. Johnson Fruit & Produce Co. Letters Dear Editor: In the past Showme has always had a little too much SEX to be a good magazine. However, under your editorship, I have noticed tremendous strides taken toward giving the University of Miss- ouri the type of literary maga- zine it has always needed. I think you have done a great deal to lift the magazine out of the gutter into which it was plunged last year. Keep up the good work and continue substituting REAL literature for filth. You must be a gentleman and a scholar, sir. Yours for a cleaner campus, George S. Fielding You are a great judge of char- acter, Mr. Fielding, and although your view of past issues does not, necessarily coincicde with mine, I believe that he, who is him- self pure, will think others pure. -Ed. Dear Editor: Let's get off the high horse and grovel in the dirt like we did last year. SEX is going on all the time, and that's what we want to read about. Dig into the bowels of the campus and come up with something big, Make it dirty. Larry Barthelme If SEX is what you want, and you don't think we have it, then you're missing half the jokes in the magazine. Read between the lines, like everyone else does, and you'll see how dirty we are. -Ed. Black & Gold Inn Italian Village Brady's Editor's Ego We started out the school year with an eruption by selling out our first issue completely. We printed 4800 and just barely had enough left over to send them out to our subscribers. This time, we print the same amount in keeping with the good reception of the magazine last month. Two of the additions to the Swami clan include Jack Duncan (see page 40) and Earl C. A. Thompson, otherwise known as ECAT. Jack contributes an art page this month, plus innumer- erable cartoons, and ECAT takes the political ideas of the staff and translates them into art- work on the centerspread. We all got together a couple of weeks ago and went hinking, but underestimated the capacity of the staff. Result: we had several more staff meetings in a very short time to consume the excess of soda pop and cookies. Everyone seemed to enjoy the practice of seeing the girls sell Showme in shorts and kilts at the tower. We again resume the custom this month . . who knows perhaps they'll have to wear tights under them when the cold winds of December roll around. Which brings us to the Decem- ber issue. Next month, we come back with a full color cover again and a mag chock full of Xmas goodies. So, Kiddies, save up your quarters and keep sup- porting Swami. Who knows, next spring we may have another hink- ing session and more soda pop! CHIP RANCH HOUSE Me Hongry! Staff EDITOR Chip Martin EDITOR EMERITUS Joe Gold BUSINESS MANAGER Jerry Powell ADVERTISING Barbara Breisch ART EDITOR Mark Parsons PUBLICITY DIRECTORS Marjean Gidens Bob Wallace CIRCULATION Bill Howord Chuck McDaneld EXCHANGES Pat Peden SUBSCRIPTIONS Helen Mortenson JOKE EDITOR Judy Jenkins Missouri Showme POLITICAL GEMS THE BIG DEAL When Hattie Slinkslipper slinks furtively . watch out! A tale of intrigue by an insider . . . Nancy Fairbanks ---------------- ADVICE TO IKE Swami uses the medium of Showme art to get it across to our top executive . . cam- pus prigs should take notice ___________ SOLITAIRE " . drinking, driving too fast, and running around with trash," he said, and the pro- verbial buck was passed around. A short story by Swami's joke editor, Judy Jenkins _ POLITICS MADE EASY All potential politicians should read this . espeically those with a weak will . . and who ever heard of one with a strong will? -. HOW TO GET VOTES Jack Duncan teams up with a bottle of ink, brush, and some zippatone to bring a bit of sage advice to the aspiring ___________- Volume 31 November 1954 Number 2 After a few trips out to the Stables this year, Swami and his crew decided that the only way to get the famous cam- pus hang-out onto the cover, would be to take a picture of it and come home and draw it. So with brush in ear and camera in shaky hand, we visited the Stables on one week end when it was crowded to the gills and come up with this cover. We take the ultimate in artistic license in presenting to you a cover which we think is typical of A POLITICAL SATYR . . you figure it out! SHOWME is published nine times. October through June, 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 rates furnished on request. National Advertising Representative: W. B. Bradbury Co., 122 E. 42nd St. New York City. Printer: Modern Litho-Print Co. Jefferson City, Mo. Price: 25c a single copy; subscriptions by mail $3.00. Office hours: 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., Monday through Friday. 302 Read Hall. Showme's campaign slogan Is one that's very dear . . . "Let's cast our vote for Swami, And go have another beer!" 6 Around The Columns Overheard At the first football game of the year one sweet young thing raised the wrong card again and again. After being criticised by all the rah-rah collegians around her, she could stand it no longer. Her eyes brimming with tears, she blurted, "Well, I can't help it. I'm color blind!" Foresight Saga The University's usual lack of vision embroiled it in another error of omission at the begin- ning of this school year. Although high administration ofifcials must have known that enrollment was going to far exceed that of last fall, a great many male students found themselves without hous- ing during registration. The sit- uation subsequently cleared up, but it seemed to indicate that somebody is running around is- suing order or not issuing orders with a blindfold around his eyes. The dormitories were trying to alleviate the disgrace by attempt- ing to put three men in a room that was originally meant for two. Townspeople met the prob- lem in two ways. Some honest- ly interested in the students' wel- fare, began opening rooms in their homes to take in Displaced Students, while others, whose motives cannot be looked into too closely jacked up their prices - some as high as $30 a month for a single room. All of this only points up the old adage: THERE IS ALWAYS ROOM AT THE TOP FOR MEN OF VI- SION. There is room especially at the University of Missouri. The Vanishing Americans There must be a great deal more to the job of Student Gov- ernment president than it ap- pears on the surface. The last two office-holders have gone the way of all flesh, dropping out of sight with all the noise of wet firecrackers. We are con- vinced they are not dead; they have merely faded away like many an old soldier into the peaceful void, secured by the "see no evil," "hear no evil," "speak no evil" policy of the Dean's Office. Perhaps there is some evil monster lurking in the confines of the SGA office that creeps out after dark and de- vours SGA administrators. But for anyone with political aspira- tions it might be well to know the hazards before taking the leap. To find out more about the monster, read your M Book. It's all there, if you only know what page. Lavender Hill Coup An item in the paper, date- lined from London is highly rem- iniscent of one of Alex Guiness' best, "The Lavender Hill Mob." "Fast working thieves crashed their truck into the rear of an- other truck today and stole two boxes containing gold bullion worth $117,600. "The gold had come from the royal mint and was consigned to Amsterdam. " . . A worker was closing the back of the bullion truck when the thieves' truck suddenly appeared and smashed it." Perhaps Guiness has been tak- ing his motion pictures too seri- ously, or maybe there is some truth in the old saying, "If you cannot have zee cash, zen you take zee bullion!" 7 Honest, We're Quoting The following item appeared word-for-word in Earl Wilson's column August 27, 1954 on page 32 of the Suffolk County edition of Newsday, the Pulitzer Prize newspaper. The only reason we bore you with these details is because the Board of Publica- tions does not like to think we make up these nasties out of our own little heads. "In Ohio, an out-of-towner, looking for a man named John Sexauer, phoned various com- panies. 'Do you have a Sexauer there?' he asked a switchboard gal. " 'A what?' she said. " 'A Sexauer.' " 'I should say not,' she said. 'We don't even have a coffee break.' " It's in the Cards Despite ugly rumors to the contrary, we committed the un- pardonable sin of joining the card section. After constant promise of getting a good seat on the fifty yard line for "only lift- ing a little card at halftime," we relented and signed our synicism away. When SMU arrived for the first game, we trudged out to the noisy stadium. Finding our seat away down on row sixteen right near the fifty, we began to think better of the deal we had made. We had just settled back complacently to enjoy the fruits of our brililant decision, when a little girl with a gold beanie on her little head tapped us on the shoulder. Beside her was anoth- er somewhat larger girl, also with a gold beanie. "You'll have to move," said the tiny Hellcat. "Why?" we asked hunching lower in our seat. "Because this girl," she said motioning at her comrade-in- beanies, "is supposed to be sit- ting there." We got coy and pulled out our ticket. "Look," we said, "Sec- tion II, Row 16, Seat ." "Yes, I know," said our tor- mentress, "but according to the Hellcat (and she bowed her head quickly three times) seating plan, she's supposed to sit there." By this time we had wrapped our legs around the bench and dug our fingernails into the wood. "Let's see your ticket," we said to the second young lady. She handed over a moth-eaten book of tickets stamped with "JJ Row 74." "Row 74?" we screamed."Lady, you're in the wrong stadium." With that we looked over our shoulder trying to discern row 74, but the highest we could see under the low hanging clouds was row 61. The clouds lifted for a second, and we saw three helicopters hovering over the last row of the bleachers. "There," she said triumphantly. "There's row 74." While we had been searching, one of the male wheels of the Hellcats had come up, and the first little girl explained the prob- lem to him. "Look," he snarled at us, "she's supposed to be sit- ting there. Why don't you take her ticket and go up to her seat like a good boy?" The thought of climbing fifty- eight rows had already made us violently ill, and so we just sat there dug into our seat looking pleading at him. Finally, he re- alized that we weren't going to move, and he saw the futility of trying to get us up, so he said, "All right. If you're willing to cooperate with us in the card section, we're glad to have you." With that he spat on the cement stairs and made his way down to the first row. The disappointed girl started climbing, and when we looked around in the third quarter, we saw that she was only a row or two away from her seat. And us? Why we were the best card raiser in the whole section that afternoon! Excuses, Excuses! Last month it came to our at- tention that the venerable Dean of Students had made a stirring television address aimed at the worried parents of this state. We regret that we missed this broad- cast, but .those who saw it, swore that it brought tears to their eyes. It seems that parents were worrying because their little ones had not written home as of- ten as they should. Fie on you, naughty students! So the good Dean took it upon himself to ease the burden for the taxpay- ers. According to our informants, he explained that because of all the red tape involved in regis- tration and the difficulty of get- ting settled, students were prob- ably a little lax in writing home. He told the parents that the let- ters would more than likely start coming soon. Our informants could not recall if he had quoted the old motto of Mizzou, "that the university acts toward the student, as a parent toward a child," but it would not surprise Darn It, George Cut It Out! us if he had. In these times of universities becoming more and more cold and businesslike, it is refreshing to see that there are at least some people who take a personal interest in the welfare of students and their taxpaying parents. Bully for you, Dean Jack! Ace Flips His Lid Many people have wondered if the Student Union Coffee Shop prepared its own soup. Last month we were an eye witness to an incident that proved be- yond a doubt. It was lunch- time, and two young ladies were seated nearby at the counter. The waitress brought them two bowls of soup - one was mush- room, the other vegetable. As the young lady dipped her spoon gently into the steaming vege- table soup, there was a distinct- ly metallic collision. Further fo- rays into the bowl brought to light a circular piece of tin, whose jagged edges indicated re- cent separation from a can. The waitress, upon interrogation, glibly admitted that it was the lid from the soup can, and be- gan fishing around herself until she removed the evidence and hastily did away with it. N6w we are not champions for the Pure Food and Drug Act, and summers spent working in res- taurants have taught us that for- eign objects have a knack of creeping into plates and bowls -flies, beetles, and other assort- ed members of the insect world- but the top of a soup can - never! Really, Ace don't you think this is carrying it abit too far? Joe Gold 9 What has all this to do with the ineluctable modality of reality. It is winter, spring, or can students take a fancy to the lighter side of life in any climate? CANDIDLY Which one is the Beta? Some owls are wise, some open their eyes; this is a knight owl Photos by JOYCE GOODMAN AL SMITH TOM EBLEN Smorgasborg . . MIZZOU This girl has just heard a joke she doesn't understand. She is about to pull the plug so no one can see her . . blush. Marge Curtis, AWS Pres., crowns Benny Bauton, win- ning candidate for Knight Owl. When in doubt, lie down. MORE MIZZOU Bill Howard, Showme Circulation Manager, presents the trophy for over 100 per cent subscriptions sold, to the Alpha Chi Omegas, Left to right Jan Marsden, Pres. Bill Howard, Bert Andrews. Bill Howard, Showme Circulation Manager, presents the trophy for over 100 per cent subscriptions sold, to the Delta Gammas. Left to right Doris Enfield, Bill Howard, Jan Henderson, Pres., Cynthia Blaisdell, and Caroline Crowder. A jug of wine, a flour sack and thou beside me in the wildernes. Here's your change sir, one, two, three, oomph! Barbara Breisch, up and coming co-ed, goes all the way for school spirit. Alms, Alms, for the love of Allah. Swami presents this as a public service feature. We think it's a nice piece of art work. 13 The Big Deal by Nancy Fairbanks Hattie Slinkslipper slunk fur- tively down the street. She was on her way to a secret meeting of the party. There was a big deal. "This is a big deal," she deal on. Hattie was in on the thought. Her sorority was work- ing a big deal with the party. "That's the way it is with these big deals," she thought. "No- body knows what the deal is." Hands reached out and pulled her into a car. Hands blind- folded her. "Watch those hands," she snapped. "What kind of a deal is this anyway?" "You're being taken to the se- cret headquarters of the party," said a voice. "Where's that?" she asked. "It's a secret." Two hours laters they reached the secret headquarters. Hattie was shoved into a small closet, She gasped. A girl was search- ing her for concealed weapons. It was Brenda Sweatsock, Presi- dent of WJA, (Womens Jock As- sociation.) Everyone on campus thought the Women Jocks were with the other party. The pres- ence of Brenda Sweatsock in the closet proved that there was a big deal on. "What's the deal?" asked Hat- tie. Brenda Sweatsock shrugged her muscular shoulders. "You hang up your sweatsocks where you get the best deal. Visiting hours in the boys' locker room - that's a pretty big deal. What are you after, Hattie Slinkslip- per?" "Just call me H.S. - all my friends do. My only desire is to be of service to my sorority and my school. By acting as media- tor between my sorority and the party I hope to be of service to my school and my fellow stu- dents. United we stand - divid- ed we fall. As our sorority found- er said, Make the best of things while the making's good. When circumstances lay you low make the best of things and you may come out on top in the end.' In short - the other party didn't come through on the patronage." "Well said, H.S.," cried Bren- (Continued on page 26) Brenda Sweatsock Smiled Sagely, "Now Conceal Your Best Weapons." Yes, Ike, that was a birdie! SWAMI'S ADVICE TO IKE There should definately be sex education in our schools. Take care of your health. Strenghten foreign relations. Freedom of the press? . . well as I have observed. Solitaire by Judy Jenkins Ed Masters didn't look up when the sucking slam of the heavy front door pushed through the high-ceilinged hall, and into the dim corner of the living room where he sat playing solitaire. He didn't speak until the nervous sound of his daughter's high heels had nearly reached the carpeted staircase. Then he flicked a grey cylinder of ash from his black cigar and drawled sullenly, "Joan." The footsteps halted, and hesitated. Her voice was cold and de- fensive. "Yes, Father?" "Come in here." The click of her heels was slower, and then she appeared in the doorway, her auburn hair loose and flowing. An ornate dia- mond bracelet on her slim right wrist caught the dim, smoke- filled light and flashed brightly against her black velvet bodice as she lifted her arm to brush the hair over her shoulder. Joan Masters stood a moment and scowled at the large figure in the tall armchair. "Well?" He chewed slowly on the end of the cigar, apparently intent on his game. "Where were you?" "Out." "How did your mother get to -wherever she was going?" Joan walked into the room and lit a long cigarette with the sil- ver table lighter. "Mrs. D'Arcy came by for her. I think they were going to play bridge somewhere. She stood, waiting, but when he said nothing, started for the stairs. "Good night." He only grunted. Joan stopped suddenly, took a deep breath and turned toward her father. Her sharp features were drawn and the green eyes wide in her white face. Her slim body became very rigid and her nostrils flared as she watched her father lift a half-full high- ball glass and empty it noisily. "Father . . . " "Unh?" "I hit someone tonight." Ed Masters set the glass down with a bang, and rose furiously, grunting as he lifted his great bulk from the chair. "Dammit, Joan, I knew it would happen - drinking, driv- ing too fast, running around with trash-" He was waving his hands in little up and down motions. She flung her words at him, almost shouting. "I wasn't drunk. And I was alone." Her voice became hoarse and frantic. "It was raining and she stepped in front of the car. I . . didn't see her until I heard the thud. It was awful." She put her hands to her face and trembled all over. "How is she - what's her name?" He faced his daughter, squint- ing at her, and still holding the cigar between his fingers. She straightened, and looked at him squarely. "I don't know. I didn't stop." He glared at her, open-mouth- ed, and she stepped back a little, as if to get out of his reach. "You little tramp! Do you know what this can cost me? Hit and run! Now what am I going to do?" He rubbed his forehead with a puffy hand and began to pace the floor. Then he shouted at her. "If you'd stayed in for a change, this never would have happened. Of all the damned ." Her voice was loud again. "What do you expect me to do? Stay here and watch you get drunk? Or sit in on Mother's bridge games? If I had a home "Shut up!" His voice was higher, louder now, almost screaming, and his face was very red. They stood in silence for a matter of mo- ments, glaring at each other Then Joan dropped her eyes, and turning, walked away from him. She spoke in a trembling whisper. "What am I going to do?" Her father seemed not to hear her and started to pace the floor again. "Your mother should be home by now. Where is she?" Joan clutched the back of a chair, and her knuckles became white as she dug her long red nails into the upholstery. "She'll scream at me too. And she'll cry. I won't stay!" Her voice cracked and she started running toward the hall. Her father's voice boomed after her, and something of its hysteria made her stop abruptly. "Joan, come back!" She turned, stared wide-eyed and helpless for a moment, then collapsed in the big armchair, sobbing - nearly screaming at times. Ed Masters' arms were stiff at his sides, his fingers were wide apart and his lips parted as if he were in a trance. He was (Continued on page 32) SUZIE STEPHEN'S by ECAT Can You Imagine Deah? The Dahling Freshman Wanted To Know Why We call Him "Old Equalizer!" 17 Politics Made Easy by Dave Hewitt Wee Willie Wright was his name and rightly named he was. Wee Willie, called Wee, or Wil- lie for short, stood a towering five feet with his elevator shoes on. His hair was arranged atop his head in company formation - Four columns abreast from front to back. The Company Commander hung limply over Wee Willie's forehead. Two blood- shot eyes glared out of two sunk- en black holes. His mouth droop- ed at both corners. His arms hung limply down around his knees. Willie was a mess. But Willie was a crusader and at present was crusading for the return of prohibition. Willie's Pappy had been one of the finest mash-mixers to ever come out of "Little Dixie". His score on revenuers rose to such astronomical figures that instead of notching his gun he kept a stray revenue agent around and notched him. Willie learned his trade well; then catastrophe - the XVIII Amendment was repealed. After twenty years of wander- ing around, Willie had finally succeeded in arousing bootleg- gers, lovers of white lightning and university students in the cause of bringing back prohibi- tion - why buy a case of beer 18 when a pint of white lightning would do the same thing? As the movement gained momentum Willie decided it was time to unite with a national party soon holding a convention and attempt to organize things on a national scale. And so they came, out of the hills, hallowed halls and haunted habitats. Male, female and other- wise. Into the "Windy City" they swarmed. The nauseating odorif- erousness of the Chicago stock- yards greeted their eagerly up- lifted noses. The cacophony of the city greeted their ears. Ven- ders on the street corners, in an attempt to organize a movement for the "Milkmaids," were ped- dling "dragon milk" (milk from short cows). Capone-like mob- sters were entertaining the crowd by playing staccato sounds from Chicago typewriters on the bodies of a few honest politi- cians left in Chi. All in all, Wil- lie was pleased. These were his type of people. At 1:00 A.M. the convention hall appeared ready to burst at the seams. Willie quickly enter- ed a side door. He had chosen not to lead the prohibitionists from the platform, but instead lead obstreperous demonstrations from the floor, leaving the plat- form to someone with a more impressive physique. Glancing quickly around, as was his hab- it, Willie noticed something which had thus far eluded him in life - a big buxom blond (6' tall, measuring 39", 24", 36" from top to bottom). Talk about Blase Exposes, this babe was it! She was dressed in a vivid, red gown with a plunging neckline ending somewhere around her knees. Willie was speachless, but not pet- rified. He quickly sidled over and lowered himself into the va- cant seat beside her, gazed up- ward into her lovely chartreuse eyes and drooled. Willie was liv- ing, momentarily at least . . . The convention droned on. All three factions of the National Party had introduced their can- didates. The prohibitionists seem- ed to have the favorite, a big, mash - nosed bootlegger. The Milk-maids had made 0a heavy showing by introducing their candidate taking a milk bath on the platform. The Wobblies were, as their name implies, wobbly. With Willie's demonstration it appeared the convention would be a pushover for the prohibi- tionists. Half of the delegates had already keeled over after consuming huge quantities of "White lightning" distributed by the loyal sons of the party. But where was Willie? Down on Chicago's South Side Wee Willie was having a ball Millie, as Willie came to call her, was in her rarest form - dressed. She was leaning against the bar in a stance comparable to a military "parade rest". Wil- lie's eyes were no longer sunken into his head . . instead they now bulged out. "Millie, I-I-I've got to get back to the convention hall, it must be time for the demonstration." "Why Willie," purred Millie, "I was hoping you might have time to give me a little demon- stration around here some- where." Willie, n e a r capitulation, swooned, grabbed the edge of the bar, pulled himself erect, lunged at Millie and headed for the door, dragging her along. Hours later Willie wandered up toward the now deserted con- vention hall. Poor, bedraggled, beat Willie . his eyes had again sunk back into his head. Four columns of hair lay flat on his head. The Company Comamnder was gone. Willie might as well have been gone himself. Without the demonstration he was to have led, the Milk-maids had succeeded in stampeding the convention in favor of their bare, milk-white skin. The prohibition delegation was nowhere to be seen. Back to the hills, hallowed halls and haunted habitats they had slunk. . . all but one. Out of a the stillness of the fog-drenched dawn came again the staccato of a Chicago typewriter. What had this to do with ultimate reality? Willie knew. As he sunk to the side- walk, his guts burning like a fresh pint of "White Lightning," Willie knew . . . he had failed. Gasping for that last breath of life, "Willie's eyes focused on a figure that couldn't be mistaken . . . Millie. She stepped slowly over to where Willie hung, half in, half out of the gutter. As she nudged him, not too gently with her foot, she also knew . . . she hadn't failed. As the front line of defense for legal beer and liquor interests over the conntry, she had done her job well * Collin's Tavern DRAKE'S DRIVE-IN Julie's A POLITICAL MENAGERIE BY E.C.A.T. MISSOURI THEATRE THE PHI DELTS AND THE BETAS by Jack Duncan The Phi Delts and the Betas Were rugged M.U. men. They feared not Dean nor Man nor Beast; They spiked their orange drinks with gin. This is the tale of that fallen crew, Of the set who once were idol- ized. But alas, no longer is this true For they are socially unrecog- nized. The battle was joined one sol- emn day When birds were still and the rainclouds drawn. The feud began in an innocent way: Two Delts trespassed the Beta lawn. The Betas were shocked at this sacrilege And pounced upon the foreign pair; The clippers came out, and howl- ing with rage, The Delts went home without their hair. The troops were shook when they got the word And vowed revenge on the Beta crew, Before the shameful thing re- curred. The final end - how little they knew. All that week when classes were done Enemies joined in a common cause; The plotted to finish what had been begun "We'll get those Betas, to Hell with laws!" That Saturday night while co- eds decried, Their dates marched on Beta with bottles in hand. The noble defenders retreated inside And frustrated Phi Delts be- seiged the band. A wobbly freshman, smelling of beer, Smashed a front window and started the fun. The fortified Betas huddled in fear As thirty-three windows turned into none. The local citizens called on the cops And shortly a cruiser rolled down the drag. But, woe to the revelers, a pledge pulled the stops And flung through the wind- shield a bottle of Stag. The cops restored order and jailed a few Greeks But respite was short for those in the brawl. The fault was divided on both of the cliques; The Interfrat Council unsolializ- ed all. Some epics have morals, this don't by gosh Swami suggest a change that is cool. This thought will mean little to Neophyte Frosh, On the Beta lawn . . . perhaps a pool? Bummin' Around Oooo - I'm so excited that Homecoming's pretty soon. They have some deal here with a Chump and Stump. And all the hotels and motels are filled up, so nobody has any reservations. There's a game too, but I don't guess I'll see too much of it. In the drawing for seats our bloc turned out to be the one on Broadway between 6th and 7th. But we've got that old spirit, so we yell, boy! Everytime one walks by. I've got date for the game, though. November 20. Really, 1 am going with a boy; what can he do since I stole his season ticket? I hope he buys me a pretty yellow chrysanthemum, because I get pretty hungry at those games. It's so much fun when everybody cheers and just goes wild. I like being wild. But the most fun is house decora- tions. We wanted to use the them of "Lick Kansas," but we didn't think it would be in good taste. Before we get to Homecoming at all, though, we have to get through mid-terms. I'm not wor- ried at all, because when it comes to studying, I'm a real deficien- cy expert. I have a jiffy little book by some men's honorary on "How to Study." The booklet suggests first to schedule certain hours for class- work and homework. So I've set aside six a week. And next it says, "Plan to study when you are fresh." I am never fresh. So that doesn't sound very nice. Not only that, but on page 2 the booklet says, "Analyze your progress, don't drift." That part's easy, since I never get the drift of anything anyway. Next the booklet deals with theme writing. First: select apt and colorful words. That's no problem, because the teacher puts so many read and blue marking on my paper that the words are bound to be colorful. And then it says, "Are your main points properly developed and logically arranged?"-Well, they're logically arranged. Instead of worrying about grades I'd rather think about fashions. This year jumpers are all the rage, but I'll take a good dash-man myself. Or even one whose specialty is discus, al- though I'm not personally much of a talker. One fellow was tell- ing me about a pole vault, but I should think it would be easier to use a steel safe. I love all sports, especially bowling. Going with a date is the best, because I like a boy when he's sort of pin-conscious. I wouldn't go bowling for the longest time, though, because Mother told me to stay out of alleys. And some of the places that people bowl . . . well . they serve Beer. I've never, nev- er tasted it, because you don't get much of the flavor when you chug-a-lug. The first time I ever drank beer was at a political meeting. A boy came up to me (he had to; I was on the top step) and asked me who I was suporting in the general election. Well, I know all about general elections, even though we've had a West- inghouse for years. So I was just going to tell him, when he ex- plained: "bi-annual elections." And then I knew he was just another salesman. Oh well, this ought to add up sum way . . . BARF! BOB'S Texaco Service TIGER HATTERS AND CLEANERS Billy, in one of his nice new sashes, Fell in the fire and was burned toashes: Now, although the room grows chilly, I haven't the heart to poke poor Billy. Horace was a noisy child, He nearly drove his parents wild, Until his father, Dr. Fords, Dissected out his vocal cords. 23 HOW TO GET VOTES Campaign Promises Follow the Fashions Discredit the Opposition Meet Big Men on Campus Kiss Babies Lobby Schepper's Distributing Company The Missouri Store Co. Parkade TIGER LAUNDRY & DRY CLEANING CO. TEXACO TOWN THE BIG DEAL (Continued from page 14) da. "You're a girl politician after my own heart." "Are you satisfied that I have no concealed weapons?" Brenda Sweatsock smiled sage- ly. "Never conceal your best weapons." A boy entered the closet as Brenda left. It was Jack Slop- saucer, Chairman of Coffee Hour. "Greetings, Jack Slopsaucer," said Hattie. "Buenos dee-as, polly-boo- france-caa and all that rot," said Slopsaucer. He was the sophis- ticated type. "Why are your pockets stuffed with student I.D. cards?" asked Hattie. Slopsaucer chuckled. "It's the newest innovation of the party. We don't stuff ballot boxes. We steal the I.D. cards from the op- position so they can't vote." "What's your stake in this?" asked Hattie. "I'm the candidate for presi- dent. Who could be more quali- fied than I, Chairman of Coffee Hour. Everyone that drinks cof- fee is my friend. I'm also a big man in the athletic department. Would you like to hear my cam- paign slogan?" "Sure," said Hattie. "It's, 'Speak softly and carry a big strap,' " said Slopsaucer. "That's got a lot of snap to it." "Enough small talk. You are about to meet the real power be- hind the wheel - the man who founded the party, the originator of such great university tradi- tions as the Beta lawn party, panty raids, the student riot com- mittee, student affairs for wo- men and our great school cheer 'let's go north.'" "My hero.". "Easy girl. Don't champ at the bit," said Slopsaucer. "Every fil- ly in the stable has been after him, but he never puts his money on the same horse twice." "I'll play it cool," thought Hat- tie. "This is a big deal." Slopsaucer hurried her through a crowded room. Ten people were counting I. D. cards. They entered a plush office. "S. B this is Hattie Slinkslipper, Tri I." "Just call me H.S.," said Hat- tie modestly. "Hello, H.S." He turned and laid his .38 automatic on the plush desk. "Just call me S.B." Hattie trembled. It was Stan- ley Bigcheese, the handsomest man on campus. "Why don't you sit down over here, my dear," he suggested indicating his plush seat. "This is strictly business, SB," she said. "You give us what we want and Tri-I will vote with the party." "Haven't you heard? Buying votes is old fashioned. We steal I.D. cards," he said. "We print our own I. D. cards," she said. "Why don't you just stick around here? I'd like to get a girl like you," he said. "I repeat," said Hattie, "you give me what I'm asking for and Tri-I will vote with the par- ty." "O.K., what's your proposi- tion," he said. Hattie unrolled her list. "Three positions on the Student Riot Committee, 5 of the take from the panty-raid, 4 girls on Cement Slab, Program Chairman of Stu- dent Affairs for Women, a major queen-preferably Smorgasbord Queen, and one girl on LSMFT - highest honor for senior wo- men." "Who made up this list?" ask- ed S.B. "I did," said Hattie. "Well d on e, Slinkslipper You're a girl politician after my own heart." "How right you are. Sign here." "Sorry, Hattie. You'll have to do better than that." Hattie snatched the .38 auto- (Continued on page 30) RADIO ELECTRIC SHOP 63 NORTH TOBACCO STORE nEUKomm's Now Get That Cotton-Pickin' Thing Outta Here and Don't Ever Bring It Back! And As For Miss Jones' Qualifications. . . . Laughter Thoughts Didja Say Somthin' Ace? Voters, Smitty, Voters! Billy May Orchestra Under the direction of Sam Donahue 8 to 12 p.m., November 20th ROTHWELL GYM Tickets on Sale FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 5 Student Union Ticket Office CROWN AUTO PARTS Moon Valley Villa THE BIG DEAL (Continued from page 27) matic off the desk. She aimed it at his Hoover button. 'Maybe I can," she said looking charm- ingly dangerous. "Sign here." Bigcheese, realizing that "dis- cretion is the better part of va- lor" signed the paper. Then he turned. His face was distorted. He twisted her arm until she dropped the gun. Tears dripped from her chin as the bones began to crack. "Break my arm. I dont care," she said bravely. "I got what I came for." "I usually get what I come for too," he said. "Did I hurt you?" "No," she sniffed. Stanley's political heart was touched by her loyalty to the cause. "You've got guts," he said. He kissed her passionately. "Oh, S.B.," she murmured. She slapped him with all the force of her good arm. "Call me Stanley," he said. He twisted her good arm. "My mo- ther used to before she went to jail for bribing the income tax collector. Hattie pulled away coyly. She was still playing it cool. Her re- sistance swept away his natural wariness. "Dont' try to resist me, Hattie." He kissed her. "We were made for each other." "Your only love is for the party," she objected. "You've won me hands down," he said. "That sounds good. Hands down," she shouted running around the desk. "Together we can run this campus. Marry me tonight." Hat- tie, being a smart girl knew when it was time to play ball. She turned around and stopped running. "I'll get 10% of the stu- dent government budget and all the profits from the Campus Charity Drive. We'll have it made in the shade." Hattie laughed joyously. "As our sorority founder said, 'It's a sure thing that's made in the shade." I Accept." Swami's Snorts At the London zoo, a woman asked the keeper whether the hippopotamus was a male or a female. "Madam," replied the keeper, "That is a question which should be of consequence only to anoth- er hippopotamus." If all the students who sleep in class were laid end to end, they would be more comfortable. There was a young fellow from Wheeling Endowed with such a delicate feeling When he read on the door Please don't spit on the floor He jumped and he spat on the ceiling. Sen. Flanders: Say, Stu, they tell me you take milk baths. Why? Sen. Symington: Can't find a cow tall enough for a shower. * * * Teddy Roosevelt became the first bopster when he said, "Dig that canal." * * * Joe: Does your girl wrestle? Moe: No, but you should see her box. Phys. Ed. Student: Darnit, I'll stand on my head or bust Teacher: Just your head will do. An actress longing for children, married a director. Finally, when she didn't have any, she divorced him and married a producer. * * * Doc. Trimbull: How's that Phi Delt they brought in last night? Nurse: I think he's coming to. He just tried to blow the head off his medicine. TWA The Blue Shop The Stein Club SOLITAIRE (Continued from page 17) shaken from it by the shatter of the highball glass, as Joan knock- ed it from the table with a shift of her elbow. He walked slowly toward her, looked intently at the shaking form. Then he bent down, grunt- ing, and picked up the pieces, gathering them into a neat stack. He laid his cigar in a heavy glass ashtray, slipped his hands softly into the pockets of his silk ma- roon robe, and looked at her. "Joanie . . . look, baby. May- be it's not as bad as you think. After all it was an accident. It was a bad night; you couldn't stop." She was calmer, hiccoughing quietly. With a soft gesture, he laid his hand on her shoulder. "Look, Honey; if you go to the police right away, tonight, it will be easier. They're bound to find out anyway." He lifted her gently by the shoulders, and drew her to him clumsily. "Daddy, I'm scared," she said, and slipped her arms around his broad stomach. "Come on, baby, let's go. I'll get our coats." He started into the hall, to the closet. The doorbell rang with a pierc- ing urgency; Joan wheeled and shuddered. "I'll get it," he said, "Stay there." He pulled the door open and a police officer stepped inside. "Edwin Masters?" "What can I do for you?" "Mr. Masters, could you come with us? We'd like you to identi- fy a body. I'm sorry, but it may be your wife. We think it is." "My . wife?" Joan was at his side, clutching his arm. He tried to speak. "How . . when?" "About an hour and a half ago. She was crossing Lennox Ave- nue. Must have been hit and run." "My God," Joan gasped, and tightened her grip. He held her tight, leaning on her, swaying heavily. He began to cry. The officer said, "I'm sorry." Swami's Snorts Anyone can play bridge, but it takes a cannibal to throw up a good hand. This is the story of Johnny Mc- Quire Who ran thru the town with his pants on fire He went to the doctors and faint- ed with fright, When the doctors told him his end was in sight. New receipe for a honeymoon sal- ad: Lettuce alone. * ** For months I thought I was a fox terrier. Then I went to a psychiatrist. He cured me. I'm fine now, just feel my nose. Telechamus: Knock, knock. Odysseus: Who's there? Telechamus: Homer. Odysseus: Homer who? Telechamus: Homer papa, to me you were so wonderful. Then there was the man who went blind from drinking cof- fee. He left his spoon in it, and it poked his eye out. Two little boys, in age no more than eight, were spell- bound as they pressed their tiny faces up against the window of a barbershop. The barber was giving his customer a hair singe. "Gosh," said one of the boys, "Lookit' what he's doin', Mickey . search' for 'em with a torch." Before I heard the doctors tell The dangers of a kiss, I had considered kissing you The nearest thing to bliss. But now I know biology And sit and sigh and moan Six thousand mad bacteria . . And I thought we were alone. A hug: Energy gone to waist. CAMPUS JEWELERS THE PIZZA HOUSE Esser Drug Store STARK CAVERNS Swami's Snorts Prof: If I saw a man beating a donkey and stopped him from doing it, what would I be showing? Voice: Brotherly love. Officer: Hey, slow that truck down. Don't you have a gov- ernor on it? Truck driver: No, sir. The gov- ernor's back at the capital . . That's fertilizer you smell. * ** Statistics show that Vassar grads have 1.7 children, while Yale grads have 1.3 children. It merely goes to show that women have more children than men. They were showing some guests around a mental institution, when one of them asked the guard, "How do you tell when these poor devils have recovered their sanity?" The guard pointed to a tub of water. "We turn on the water, and suggest that the inmate bail the water out until the tub is empty." "Proving what?" "Anyone who isn't crazy," an- swered the guard, "shuts off the tap." There were two cases in that same institution of delusions of grandeur. An attendant said to the first of these, "What makes you think you're Napoleon?" "God told me," he answered. From the adjoining cell came the voice of the other . . . "I did not." Prof: What is the difference be- tween a little boy and a dwarf? Student: There might be a lot of difference. Prof: For instance? Student: The dwarf might be a girl. Swami's Snorts The Campus Politician by Judy Edwards Cartwright is a campus man: His program - the activity plan A model of efficiency, A live-wire, personality, Splintering handshake, big white smile, The cutest wink and smoothest style, Briefcase, notepad, Parker Pen, Ace of all activity men. Go you Tigers! he backs you; Buys "Showme," "Student," too. Coffee Hour and Glee Club-yes, But still can't get in AWS. Hellcats, Workshop, SGA; "Join them all," we hear him say. 4-H, Red Cross, Art Guild, too, Dairy Club and "Frolics" crew. Nominations open now. Look at Cartwright scrape and bow. "Hi there! Cartwright is my name. On your ballot write the same." "Politics are great," he grins, And stuffs the ballot box and wins. A toast to Cartwright - raise your glass For Cartwright is a first class ass. Professor: This exam will be conducted on the honor system. Please take seats three spaces apart on alternate rows. Take A Break at Andy's Corer Hathman House ROMANO'S Life Savers Swami's Snorts Two farmers were discussing their son's progress at the uni- versity, Ezra said, "I don't rightly know what them degrees mean that the boys are workin' for, do you, Cy?" "Reckons so," replied Cy. "The first one is B.S., and you know what that means." Being a man of the world, Ezra knew. Cy went on: "Well, sir, the next on is M.S., and that means More of the Same." Ezra nodded. "Then comes the hard part. They study night and day, put in years of work, write lots of papers, and then if they're lucky, they get the highest prize of all, the Ph.D." "And what does that stand for?" asked Ezra. The answer made sense. "Piled higher and Deeper." Did you ever notice what mo- tel spells backward? Red-Letter day: When Russians read their mail. ** * Officer testifying before the Sen- ate Committee on National Se- curity: "There is no need to re-locate the capitol, gentle- men. No enemy would bomb Washington and deliberately end all this confusion." Girls, beware of this one small thing: A secret engagement means no ring. ** * girls on a summer holiday, eware the handsome wolves of prey: Be discreet, and only mingle With the obviously single; Men are a deceptive lot: Summer batchelors - some arc not. Swami's Snorts If we get in a deeper Inflationary pickle, All you'll get for a dime Will be a nickel. * * * Take your choice - be an old maid and look for a husband every day, or marry and look for him every night. * * He usually stops at hydrants And a mail box won't make him fuss He'll also unload by a telephone pole Who? . . Why, the driver of the bus. The current investigations in Washington and the opening day of the fishing season tie in very well. In each case, it's a safe bet that the big ones will get away. Beta: I drink nothing stronger than Pop. Pi Phi: And what does Pop drink? * * Traveler: Quick, give me a round trip ticket. Clerk: Where to? Traveler: Back here, you fool. * * * There is one advantage of poor handwriting. It covers up a lot of mistakes in spelling. A father of 28 children sued for divorce claiming he'd always been unhappily married. "You see, your honor," said the hus- band, "I thought I'd eventually lose her in the crowd." * * * Psychiatrist: to sad eyed patient: Young man, I knew there was a reason for your feeling of inferiority, and now I know what it is. You're inferior. Don Smalls Record Shop BREISCH'S YACHT CLUB TOWN & COLLEGE MEN'S SHOP Swami's Snorts Sigma Chi: Do you like Kip- ling? Pi Phi: I don't know. How do you kipple? * ** Co-ed: Do you mind if I wear velvet instead of silk? Ed: Of course not. I'll love you through thick or thin. * ** Two cross-eyed men met squarely on the side-walk one morning in a head-on collision. "Why don't you look where you're going?" asked the first man. "Why don't you go where you're lookin' " retorted the other. * ** The teacher was giving the primary class a talk on flowers. "Now children," she said "who can tell me what makes the flower spring from the seed?" "God does it," answered one little girl, "But fertilizer helps." Mike: That's a queer pair of stockings you have on, Pat- one red and that other green. Pat: Yes, and I've got another pair like it at home. You can't measure a person's happiness by the amount of money he has. A man with ten million dollars may be no hap- pier than a man with only nine million. A little old lady riding on a bus was anxious not to pass her destination. She poked the dri- ver with her umbrella and ask- et, "Is that the First National Bank?" "No Madam," he replied, "That's my stomach." Swami's Snorts "Don't you think George dresses Nattily?" "Natalie' who?" *** "Port wine to me is the nectar of the gods, the elixir of life. When I imbibe its fluid, my very soul begins to throb and glow. The music of a thousand muted violins whispers in my ear, and I am transferred to the make- believe world of magic. On the other hand, beer makes me burp." 1st Kappa: Does he dress like a gentleman? 2nd Kappa: I don't know. I nev- er saw him dress. * * * You kissed and told But that's all right The one you told Called up last night. * ** "Young man, does your mo- ther know you're smoking?" "Madam, does your husband know you speak to strange men on the street?" * * Beta: Do you feel like a cup of tea? Gamma Phi: No, do I look like one? "Is that man rich?" Is he! He's so rich that he doesn't know his son's in col- lege." * * * According to a story going the rounds in Western Europe, one Prague resident refused to join the outcry against a new Stalin statue in the city's public square. "Why not a statue?" he said. "It'll give us shade in the sum- mer, shelter in the winter and an opportunity for the birds to speak for all of us." ERNIE'S STEAK HOUSE Sudden Service Cleaners Garland's TIGER Art Theatre contributors' page Marjean Gidens As the wind whips up her Ber- muda skirt, Marjean Gidens smiles sweetly, bites the arm of a passing freshman, and snarls "Buy a Showme". The walk in front of the Student Union tower is always novelly decorated when this co-publicity editor discards her Greek toga - part of one publicity stunt - to make knees the news . . . for a quarter. Marjean also decorates her room in the A E Phi house - with a collection of Showme trinket, including the Merry-Go- Round manikin whose sign read, 'I dreamed I worked for Showme in my maidenform bra." Dressed appropriately, she gazes across the room at an enlarged Showme cartoon with the caption, "No, Jimmy can't come out to play with you; he's dead." She's another pre-journalism major, planning to concentrate on fashion reporting. Other in- terests include scrabble with "nasty" words, MEN, and a huge, floppy toy dog, which goes with her to bed every night. Daughter of an army colonel, Marjean spent the summer with 50,000 men at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. She's wacky enough to join the army herself, for she plans as a secret publicity stunt to blow up Jesse Hall, stand on the ruins in her plaid Bermuda skirt, and coo, "Would you-all like a SHOWME?" Jack Duncan He's a man of few words, and you can't print those." That's one friend's description of Jack Dun- can, who actually is a man of curly black hair, glasses, and six feet of muscle. The glasses are to eliminate the difficulty of drinking straight from the keg, and the six feet are to lope all over town digging up feelthy ideas for Showme cartoons and feature articles. Jack often expresses such de- votion to Showme as "If I were editor of this magazine I'd em- bezzle all the money." Usually his remarks are prompted by a setting like the Hink, and a po- sition on a blanket, which helps him warm up to his subject. An ex-Marine with a flair for judo, Jack even managed to catch poison ivy on one Hink party. He only broke off his two- year business association with the Marines because at the base at which he was stationed "didn't give me enough freedom." He has not explained exactly what he wanted that was not free. Since an N.R.O.T.C. scholar- ship is paying his way, Jack oc- casionally wanders into a class- room. Generally, the course will be something Very Required for J-school entrance. Since he's only a freshman, those happy days are still two years away, but he already has a very real- istic view of journalism which he expressed recently: "Lets go out and get some more beer." BARF! YOUR 1955 SAVITAR Winston Cigarettes