Missouri Showme April, 1955Missouri Showme April, 195520081955/04image/jpegUniversity of Missouri Special Collections, Archives and Rare Book DivisionThese pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Please contact hollandm@missouri.edu for more information.Missouri Showme Magazine CollectionUniversity of Missouri Digital Library Production ServicesColumbia, Missouri108show195504Missouri Showme April, 1955; by Students of the University of MissouriColumbia, MO 1955
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Missouri Showme
April 1955
Sunshine and
Health Issue
Schepper's Distributing Company
Pucketts
The Novus
Shop
Letters
Dear Chip,
Last week I stopped by 1000
Jokes magazine to meet Bill
Yates for lunch and had a copy
of the Feb. Showme thrust at
me.
It was kinda good to see the
book again. I don't know if the
old rule about ex-editors getting
a subscription still applies, but if
this is no longer the case, bill
me for a subscription. If it's pos-
sible I'd like to have a couple
of the copies of the Feb. (1955)
too.
It seems like you're always
running into old withered ex-
Showme editors. I was down in
"Philly" not long ago and stop-
ped by TV Guide magazine to
sell some work. In the course of
the conversation I discovered
Merril Pavitt, the editor, was an
ex-Showme editor. Guess you
knew Charlie Barnard was edi-
tor; he's now managing editor of
True.
Showme seems to be on its feet.
I remember when I became edi-
tor it was bankrupt and the Uni-
versity was doing its darndest to
kill it. I remember at the time
we used to sit around in the
Shack and worry for fear Show-
me was going to die, but now,
looking back, I wonder if it
would be really humanly pos-
sible to kill it.
Thanks for the trouble and
give your staff a pat on the back;
I think they're doing a fine job.
Oh yeah, tell 'ole Tony the
printer hello for me - Boy!
those were the days.
Sincerely,
Herb Green
All ex-editors are given life-
time subscriptions to Showme,
Herb. Consider your name a per-
manent addition to the list-Ed.
NOTE: The following is a reply
to the letter received last month
from the W.C.T.U. member who
accidently read our magazine and
submitted a brief criticism-Ed.
Dear Mrs. Member,
I find your letter an unforgiv-
able sin against an extra fine
magazine. Rather than feeling
anger toward you Mrs. Member,
I find only a great pity for one
so narrow-minded and egotisti-
cal as yourself. I'll bet you still
tell dirty jokes and smoke cig-
arettes out behind the barn.
A Freshman Reader
You tell 'em, boy-Ed.
Dear Chip:
Are you there? No Showme
since Dec. Damnit, Chip!
Pvt. Billie B. Kinkade
US 55 462 074
HU. Mort. Co. 74th RCT
Ft. Devens, Mass.
It must be the army red-tape
system, Barney! We're sending
you the last three issues to bring
you up to date. Incidentally, I'm
still here-Ed.
Dear Editor;
How about keeping our good
humor magazine out of politics?
It's alright to write about poli-
tics if you can find real humor in
it, but don't please involve our
magazine, which has been con-
sidered one of the finest in the
country. It should be your res-
ponsibility to keep the maga-
zine on a high level, out of the
filthy mud which has been flung
back and forth between two war-
ring factions which don't even
know what good candidates are.
A concerned student
Thank you for your suggestion.
From now on, no dipping in the
mud along with the pigs-Ed.
Dear Sir,
Rush me three copies of your
Jellybean Issue. I thought it was
the best issue you have put out
this year.
Merv Rich
They're on their way-Ed.
Holiday
Pipe Mixture
DORN - CLONEY
Brown Derby
Editor's
Ego
It's getting near the time for
banquets and stuff, beer busts
and such. Sometime this month,
Showme'll be having a banquet
with awards to some of its most
loyal members. We'll probably be
jumping in a truck soon and go-
ing out to Breezy or Moon Val-
ley and have a bunch of steaks
and all the stuff that goes with
it.
Last month we had the Miss
Missouri preliminaries and chose
four girls to go to St. Louis for
the finals. There were about 80
girls in the contest, representing
Mizzou, Stephens and Christian
colleges. That's all we'll have to
do with queen contests for a long
time, until next year.
We had one of the largest
turn-outs in history for the last
gag meeting at the Stables. You,
dear reader, will see the fruits
of the meeting on this month's
centerspread, done by Dick (the
monster) Noel. Another gem is
the spread by ECAT on nudism.
No magnifying glasses, please.
Savitar Frolics is over now
and everyone can get back to
the business of graduating . . .
or participating in Carousel. Our
good friend, Roger Goodwin, is
directing the show and quite a
number of Swami's slaves are
helping out.
We're taking off for the hink-
son sometime soon with lots and
lots of sody pop and cookies.
We'll be looking for all the Show
me staff members there, and a
few past Showme people. Now
that the two political camps have
smoothed over their differences
and friends are coming back to
the fold, we'll be expecting to
see some of our old playmates
there.
Guess what! Most of our ene-
mies have transformed them
selves into friends again . .
that is, except the ones who are
on a sour grapes diet!
Lovingly,
Chip
"Oh come now, Chauncy. You know the club rules."
Staff
EDITOR
Chip Martin
ASSOCIATE EDITOR
Mark Parsons
BUSINESS MANAGER
Jerry Powell
ADVERTISING
Barbara Breisch
Bob Brown
ART EDITORS
Jack London Duncan
ECAT
Dick Noel
PUBLICITY
Marjean Gidens
CIRCULATION
Bill Howard
Chuck McDaneld
PHOTOGRAPHY
Al Smith
Tom Eblen
Warren Goeppel
EXCHANGES
Pat Peden
SUBSCRIPTIONS
Helen Mortenson
JOKE EDITOR
Judy Jenkins
Missouri
Showme
THE BARE FACTS
THE KOLLEGE KATS
Here's the low-down on the guys who play
their music low and down in the groove, with
pictures 10
CATS ARE GOOD PEOPLE
That mad, impetuous monstor, Dick Noel, re-
veals his latest desire; that of maiming cats - 12
NO PUNCH!
Intimate, intriguing . . . the true account of
what happened to a little nude coed ----- 14
MOVIE OF THE MONTH
A critical review (with gestures) by one of
Swami's newest . . . Bob Williams ---- 22
Volume 31 April 1955 Number 7
ABOUT THE COVER
Ed Preuss breaks with the bare facts this
month with his first Showme cover and keeps the
paint brush in the flesh color to come up with
this cover which, if nothing else, is different. Ed
has been hopping on our back all year to let him
do a cover, so here it is, at the Preuss best. If Ed
will stick around for another month, we may
seeing a centerspread with all his crazy-looking
people in it. In case any of our readers wish to
express a desire to keep Ed from doing a center-
spread, remit 10 cents and a top from a can of
Excello soap powder to Box 431, Detroit, Michigan,
Department A, and tell us in 25 words or less, j
what you think of Japanese Boll Weevils.
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.
While boys and girls in the nude
Get sunshine-basking pleasures,
Swami sells to eager youth
His pornographic treasures.
6
Around The Columns
Overheard
Two little boys with tousled
hair, wearing rompers, were
walking around on the second
floor of the Student Union, peer-
ing into one door after another.
One of them shyly opened the
door of the big ball room and
saw one of the sororities practic-
ing a Savitar skit.
His eyes widened in boyish
curiosity as he looked from one
bare-legged girl to another and
he ventured, "What's all this
goofin' off in here?"
Ah! April
Little green sprouts begin to
shoot out of the ground . .
humming sounds in the air again
. . . warmer breezes wafting in
and out of 302 Read Hall . . .
more T.G.I.F.s . . . Hink parties
. . . walks in the woods . . .
Amethystine Ardor . . . fishing
in the Hinkson . . . picnics at
night again . . . sleepier in the
afternoon classes . . .fewer peo-
ple in the Union . . .more peo-
ple around the Shack . . . days
are longer . . . weekends shorter
. . . jaunts down to the Ozarks
. . the first swim of the season
.exams rolling around again
. the end of the road looms
ahead . . forgot to buy a Savi-
tar . . . graduation around the
corner . . . not for us, though
. . . summer school soon, ugh
. cotton dresses are becoming
style again . . . in the windy
tower . . . makes you want to
curl up and die almost . . . life
is sure wonderful . . . bless my
soul . . . it's Spring!
My Country 'Tis Of Thee
We received word the other
day that our good friend and a
former student of Mizzou, Jerry
Reeves, has finally been drafted
into the service.
Jerry, as many of our readers
will recall, reportedly left school
because he was expecting the
call to duty. Swami sends his
best wishes to a fellow-indepen-
dent. We're putting in a subscrip-
tion for him.
There must have been a long
waiting line to get into the Army
. . .or something.
All Our Friends
Every now and then we like
to have a cool one down at the
Shack or the Stables or out at
Breezy Hill, and as we place our
elbows on the counter and be-
gin to enjoy it all, the woes of
the bartenders come back to us.
It seems to be a battle between
the revenooers and the taverns
to see who can hold out the long-
est. They tell us that it's getting
so bad that a white-bearded man
went into a bar last week and
was forced to show his ID card.
Because we're way over twen-
ty-one ourselves, innocent look-
ing little freshmen and sopho-
mores crowd around us and ask
us to buy one for them (with
their money, of course). It's no
wonder that our popularity with
the younger set has increased!
Our Nine Lives
Political assassins could have
reveled about three weeks ago
had it not been for a little bank
of terra firma near the Hinkson
Creek which prevented a long
story from being cut short.
We were riding with a lady
friend in one of the older cars
on campus, a Model A, on our
way to the TV station for a class
when the brakes just didn't seem
to work anymore. We were on
the winding road which leaves
College Avenue, south, to go to
Highway 63, and as we rounded
a curve and came to the bridge
which crosses the Hinkson, we
saw another car coming towards
us on the bridge.
Things went .too fast for any-
one to think . . . that is, except
the driver . . . and we swerved
right off the highway onto a lit-
tle mound about four feet high.
It stopped us and as soon as the
other car had passed, ole Pixie
just rolled right back down onto
the highway and we continued
on to the station.
Our hair turned a little gray,
but we're still here . . . which
may or may not be pleasing to
some people.
7
Off-limits
There's a fraternity which is
just about to lose its social priv-
ileges, but certainly not from the
lack of ingenuity of its chapter
members.
It seems they had a party a
while back and in order to get
around the liquor restrictions,
they roped off one corner of the
house and placed it off-limits.
There's where they kept the
liquor . . and they made it plain
that any person entering the off-
limits area was doing so on his
own responsibility and the chap-
ter could not be held liable for
his conduct.
It sounds pretty good on paper
. but the higher powers didn't
agree. Some people just don't un-
derstand the intellectual minds
of our youth.
Wrong Number?
There are at least two or three
houses and one floor of a dormi-
tory which has a few occupants
who are perturbed as a result of
some spirited college boy who
pulls off a telephone trick and
then, supposedly, clutches up
with laughter at someone else's
expense.
It goes something like this:
The phone rings. You pick it
up and say hello.
"Hello, is Mr. Fitpatrick there?"
"No, I'm sorry, you must have
the wrong number."
"Thank you," and he hangs up.
About five minutes later . . .
the same thing. And finally after
the boy tries about three more
times, a different voice, or the
first voice disguised, calls one
more time. You're pretty aggra-
vated by now. You say hello, grit-
ting your teeth.
"Hello. This is Mr. Fitzpatrick.
Have there been any calls for
me?"
Exasperation. He hangs up.
You mumble a few phrases re-
served for similar occasions and
growling, you stalk off. You'd
give anything to get your hands
on the funny boy.
Asi es la vida, we always say!
Roses To A Rose
Last month when we were
passing out bouquets to the peo-
ple who helped so much with
making the Crystal Ball a suc-
cess, we, Pete forbid, left out the
name of the little girl who play-
ed seamstress for 39 hours and
made Swami's outfit. So, here
and now, we take pleasure in
throwing a special round of roses
to Joan Petefish, Kappa Kappa
Gamma, a five-feet-three inches
tall, and a sophomore from St.
Louis, Missouri.
Bless you, my child, you did
a magnificent job!
Mary, Mary, Quite
Looks like that new "sweet
music" station will soon change
its call letters after all . . . even
though it had a good argument
against the University. The FCC
has given it permission, accord-
ing to newspapers, to change the
call leters, which incorporate
MU into them. The reason, as
given by University officials, is
because listeners might think
that the station is being operat-
ed by Mizzou.
Swami suggests that the sta-
tion change its call letters to
KMOO . it is fitting and prop-
er.
Real Gossip
With the big blue shoes cross-
ed on the beat-up desk in the
office of Swami, we were taking
our regular afternoon nap when
our publicity director rushed in
with a tip. Taken aback by the
sudden enthusiasm which is al-
most foreign nowadays, we woke
up expecting to hear that some-
one had set fire to the library
again.
She told us that her housemo-
ther (AEPhi) yanked on her ear
the last week and said for her
to suggst to the Showme "col-
umns" that they place this item
somewhere: What housemother
was at a fraternity party she
wasn't supposed to be at?
It turned out that the house-
mother wasn't really breaking any
rules. She only wanted to be the
creator of a little talk. So, for
your benefit, little housemother,
there you are!
Hoe That Gung!
We had a gag meeting the
other day out at the Stables and
just got settled down to some
serious beer drinking when in
walked one of the newer addi-
tions to the gag staff.
"Well, about time," says one.
"I walked out," says the
youth, huffing and puffing like
a Labrador Retriever.
"What! Why didn't you call
for a ride or something?"
"I thought it was a nice night
for a walk . . .and besides I'm
gung-ho!"
We gave him an extra beer
and loaned him a pan to soak
his feet in while we got on with
the meeting. Ah, eager youth!
Hello and Goodbye
A friend of ours told us a sad
tale about a guy who dates two
girls in the same sorority house
. . . or, at least, did for a while.
Everyone more or less regards
the situation as sort of taboo . .
a sort of unwritten rule or some-
thing. This is what can happen
when you break the rule.
It seems he was walking up
to the house to pick up a date
with one of the gals when he
spotted the other one coming out
of the doorway.
"Why, hello, Roger. I was go-
ing out for a little tennis just
now, did we have a date, or
something?"
"Well . . . er, no. You see,
Elaine . . I uh, well, uh . . this
other girl . . " and so on.
The latest word is that they
voted in the chapter meeting to
put that little candle-burner on
the black-list or something.
Which just goes to show that
crime doesn't pay and you should
always be kind to dumb animals.
He broke it fighting for my honor - I slammed the car door on it.
T. G. I. P. D.
We were sitting in the corner
booth of the coffee shop last
week and writing some potree
when a couple of coeds came up
and asked if they could join us.
Certainly, we said. We kept
writing while the gals talked
about who saw who at the Den
or the Stein Club last night and
how many pork chops they'd had
that week and how they were on
a diet and how they just couldn't
cut out the beer and etcetera un-
til, finally, another uninvited
guest strode up. Can I sit down,
he said. Yes, they said.
He told one of the girls that
he was getting a check the next
day from the government and
would probably have to pay out
quite a bit of it on bills.
"If I don't spend all my check
tomorrow afternoon, how'd you
like to go out with me tomorrow
night and drink it up a little?"
The business-wise young miss
pondered a bit, and then asked,
"How about making it tomorrow
afternoon?"
And they say women are dumb.
Take These Chains
College atmosphere must cer-
tainly be common breeding
grounds for chain letters, all
types. One currently circulating
over the campus goes like this:
" . . . Put your best enemy's
name at the bottom of the list
and cross the name at the top
of the list off . . . making ten
identical letters and sending
them to ten of your best friends.
Then, go out and shoot the per-
son whose name heads the list.
This enables you to get rid of
your best enemy and yet, not be
directly connected with his time-
ly death. The person you shoot
will undoubtably be unknown to
you and you, therefore, will be
above suspicion."
"Take especial care not to send
any of the letters to any of your
known enemies. You could very
easily get your name put on the
list. As the letter circulates more
and more, your name probably
will hit the list sooner or later
anyhow, but who cares? You
can't live forever, you know!"
Even now, we walk up and
down the streets, suspiciously
eyeing any conspicuous bulges in
the topcoats of every shady-look-
ing character on campus.
CHIP
The Kollege Kats
written by judy edwards
We may not have Stan Kenton or
Woody Herman on campus per-
manently but M.U. boasts the clos-
est thing to it. The Kollege Kats--
who draw crowds to the Stables,
the Yacht Club, and Romano's --
supply us with the jumpin'est.
Through agonizing screams of
"Dixie", shattering of beer bottles,
and much stamping of feet, the
Kats play bravely on.
Frantic.
Wes Hasse, Bass
"I've been playing pop music
only one year," Wes says, "and I
get a big kick out of it." Wes Has-
se, the Kats' lanky bass player,
took up bass nine years ago, but
has previously played only in the
classical realm. In 1950, when Wes
was a senior in high school, he
played in the Saint Louis Philhar-
monic Orchestra. His biggest aid
as far as music is concerned was
a little cellist in his high school or-
chestra. Now, besides playing with
the Kats, Wes is teaching bass at
Stephens which he likes "just
fine."
Wes enjoys playing with the
Kats. "The variance in the audi-
ence" Wes says, "makes the job
very interesting." Wes likes pro-
10
gressive jazz and his favorites are
Perez Prado and Dave Brubeck.
Currently Wes is trying to devel-
op the smear bass technique -
which amounts to sliding over
vaselined strings.
Wes needs only one hour to
graduate from business school this
June. His major is industrial man-
agement. This semester he is car-
rying four hours - and spending
the majority of the day sleeping.
He is careful to see that the tele-
phone is placed by his bed.
We asked Wes about other hob-
bies and interests. "I was born on
a farm and have a machine shop,"
he answered. "I like scotch on the
rocks and am fairly tolerant of
women." Wes isn't quite sure what
he'll be doing this summer. Al in-
vited Wes to accompany Bob, Jack
and him on the road. He may
spend the summer working in a
factory or playing in a band.
"My really ideal summer," says
Wes, "would be to live and play
in a hotel. After the job - a chat
with some young lady. Sleep til
noon. Martini for breakfast. Life!"
Alan Rose, Tenor Saxophone
Heading up the Kollege Kats is
leader Alan Rose - a dashing,
clean-cut nineteen year old junior
from Saint Louis. Al joined the
Kats as a freshman and took over
leadership this year. He also does
the arranging for the band and a
little song-writing. Al doubles on
the clarinet but prefers the sax.
His favorite big name artists are
Paul Desmond and Gerry Mulli-
gan, although Jimmy Forests style
has influenced Al's. "I've known
Jimmy for some time," Al says,
"and tend to follow his style."
Al's biggest experience playing
was last summer when he went
south in the band of Chuck Cabot
of Dallas. "I'll always owe what-
ever success I can muster up to
my father," Al says, "As far as
I'm concerned, he's number one
man in everything."
Al is a Sammy here and al-
though playing takes up most of
his time, he manages to make av-
erage grades. He intends to make
jazz his career, and his ambition
is to hear his own recordings on
the radio. Al is a progressive jazz
man and plays purely for the
love of music. "I think the band,
if it will stick together, can make
a name for itself," Al remarks.
"I love to play out at the Sta-
bles, but the audience - miser-
able! All yelling, no appreciation.
The boys woud like a little aprov-
al after a number. It'll make us
play better. Our main object is to
appeal to that audience."
Music has first place in Al's life,
but girls run a close second. Ru-
mor has it that Al is on the look-
out for a gorgeous M.U. gal with
loads of money. How about it,
girls?
George Kratz. Trumpet
George Kratz has come to be a
tradition at the Stables where he
has been playing for six years -
two years before the Kollege Kats
were formed. George is twenty-
four and will graduate this year.
"I have chosen law as a career,"
George discloses, "because when
your hair gets gray you come into
your own. With music, your job
goes all too often when your hair
goes'. For this reason George didn't
accept the offer of a scholarship
to Schillinger House, a school for
professional jazz musicians which
is located in Boston.
George has quite an extensive
musical history. He started play-
ing the trumpet thirteen years ago
and is still studying. He has gone
on the road many times with sev-
eral bands and has played all over
the country and in parts of Can-
ada. His biggest help has been Ed-
die Brauer who teaches in Saint
Louis. His favorite band is Woody
Herman's Third Herd.
George tries to develop a variety
of styles because he plays chiefly
to appeal to his audience. He says
of the Stables and Romano's -
"As far as I'm concerned both the
audience and places are the great-
est."
Al, the leader of the Kats, gives
his opinion of George: "George is
great now - as he was the first
time I ever heard him. I think he
could play trumpet in anybody's
band." Next year George and his
trumpet will be sadly lacking here.
This summer it'll be the army for
George-for Private George Kratz.
Jack Gleason, Piano
Tickling the ivories for the Kol-
lege Kats is twenty-year-old-first
semester-senior Jack Gleason. We
asked Jack how he liked playing
up here. "Now and then I get a
kick out of it all," he answers,
"but that money sure comes in
handy." Jack's ambition is to make
a million dollars. Practical as all
hell.
Jack started playing the piano
so young that he could scarcely
reach the keyboard - the week
after his fourth birthday. His mo-
ther, who was apparently gung ho
music, saw to it that prodigious
Jack took thirteen years of clas-
sical piano lessons.
Amazing as it may seem, Jack
has developed his jazz technique
all on his own. "I need to work on
my right hand," Jack admits. Jack,
like the other boys in the organi-
zation, likes jazz of the "cool
school." Intermission Riff is his fa-
vorite song and Kenton and Bru-
beck he places at the top of his
list. "I feel that I owe a lot to my
mother," Jack said, "and especial-
ly to George Kratz."
ODK, AKPsi, Scabbard and
Blade, the vice-presidency of SGA
- all this plus a little gal and a
lot of music has kept Jack a busy
man. Says Al Rose: "Jack is one
of the best piano players I've ever
played with. It seems as if he gets
better every note he plays." That's
the general consensus.
Bob Falkenhainer, Drums
"Bob is the brightest hope I've
seen join the band" - the leader's
opinion of nineteen year old Bob
Falkenhainer, Delta Tau Delta. Bob
started drumming when he was
five years old under the instruc-
tion of his father who was Super-
visor of Music in the University
City School System. Bob hopes
someday to be as good as Buddy
Rich and Shelle Manne, although
he doesn't plan to "beat his way
through life."
Bob is a music education major
and is considering being a music
critic or disc jockey. Slingerland
drums are his favorite. Bob is
currently aiming to improve his
speed and further develop his
technique. Apparently, Bob's speed
and technique aren't too undevel-
oped; and when he was a sopho-
more in high school he accepted
a scholarship to the National Mu-
sic Camp at Interlochen, Michigan.
His biggest thrill in music camp
was playing with Gene Krupa on
the radio last year in Saint Louis.
Bob likes progressive jazz, especial-
ly that of Kenton and Stan Getz.
He has learned a lot this year
from George Kratz. Bob gets a kick
out of playing at the Stables and
at parties, and he likes the Yacht
Club especially because of the
"cool sound." "I wish the audi-
ences would appreciate the cooler
music," Bob says - and this view
seems to be typical of the organi-
zation.
Two years prior to coming to
M.U. Bob played in the Saint
Louis Philharmonic Orcehstra.
This summer he plans to go on
the road with Al Rose and Jack
Gleason. "Wherever we go will
be good enough for me as long
as the three of us stick together."
And about the Kats - "George
is the greatest, Al is the swing-
in'est, and the rhythm section
works fine together."
11
Cats Are Good People
Pagarism, Shintoism,
Lightning Bugs and
Air Raid Sirens
written by Dick Noel
Yessirreebob, cats are good
people, I kid you not and cross
my heart and stick needles in my
eyebones. Grab a big orange and
pull your go-cart up close and
squat in it and I will give you
the word. What I mean is, dad,
I will give you the hope and the
straight poop and the WORD.
I will start at the beginning and
let the mist of time roll back and
. Ain't that a bunny? The crazy
mist of time, I mean. I read it in
the Dairy Goat Journal or some-
place and so I stole it and ev-
erybody will think I made it up
myself which just goes to show
crime doesn't pay and that in-
cludes plagiarism and Shintoism
and squashing lighting bugs, too.
Alright. I have stuck the
needle in good and I am floating
12
away on the wild mist of time
and if Gabby will say a word
while they are changing sides
after the 6th inning I will navi-
gate over to the corner and
crouch down in that mother and
start giving you the WORD.
As far back as I can remem-
ber I have always been interest-
ed in cats. What I mean is I en-
joyed them. I liked to see what
made them go. You know --
which parts would break and
what would interest them any
and things like that. I guess you
could say I sort of tortured them,
sort of. I always called it experi-
menting, though. I kind of made
it warm for those cats; they
weren't never bored.
That damn mist of time is roll-
ing in like mad and if you would
be good enough to scrape some
of those crazy snakes off of me
and fill up my glass I will con-
tinue.
Ah, that's better. I never was
overly fond of snakes. I never
did carry 'em around in my pa-
jamas or anything. I had an un-
cle once that used to let 'em
stick their heads in his mouth. I
don't take much truck with that
kind of garbage, though. I'd just
as soon smooch with a rhinoce-
ros. Well, as I said, I sure kept
off the dull times for those cats.
What I mean is I make 'em hop.
After a while they gave me plen-
ty of room. Oh, they didn't ex-
actly dislike me. Whenever I
came around, though, they usual-
ly remembered something they
had been putting off and would
decide that this was as good a
time as any to do it and they
would sort of hurry away to get
at it.
I'd perform all kinds of experi-
ments on 'em . . . bury 'em un-
der ground and set fire to 'em
and make 'em pull me around in
wagons and oh, hell, everything.
They was pretty gay times, take
it all around.
I remember one old tom we
had that got taken down a notch.
Me and a bunch of kids used to
play war, and one thing we nev-
er could get ahold of was an air-
raid siren. Well, I took this old
tom up on top of the garage and
tied him down so he couldn't
move around any and whenever
we needed an air-raid siren I
would climb up on the garage
and grab hold of this cat's crazy
tale and crank that daddy up
and I kid you not he was the
most supreme air-raid siren you
ever heard in your life.
Well, after about ten years of
this, people started looking at
me sort of funny. Old ladies
would jerk their children off the
streets whenever I come around.
It was then that I turned to the
bottle. Everything was rosy as
hell when I had the bottle. One
jolt was all I needed. Just one
jolt. Then two jolts. Then three
jolts. Things like that never stop.
Its the system. Nobody can buck
the system. Hell, I'm not one to
be a radical. I just kept using
the bottle. Then I started squash-
ing ants. I would follow these
ants around, see, and I was sly
about it, and then come thunder-
ing down upon them, and stomp!
I would stomp and squash and
. . . I was talking about cats,
wasn't I? You better be glad I
wasn't talking about ants, that's
all I got to say. I go wild about
ants.
Anyway, I raised cain with
those cats. I used to give 'em
baths in Old Dutch Cleanser.
Sometimes I gave 'em dry baths
with sandpaper, which is a good
experience for an up and coming
cat. Well, I will give you the
WORD some more. The word is
this: cats are good people. They
really are. They're friendly, un-
derstanding, good talkers and
they're smaller than we are. That
last is exceptionally good - that
part about being smaller than we
are.
Wicked-like now, the big wild
mist is coming in again and I am
just liable to start ripping around
here like mad and you just be
glad I don't have 700 Polish den-
tists with me, that's all! I'd show
you a merry time!
I really should tell you some
more about my childhood. All
the big literary people always
tell about some jerk's childhood.
Usually this child whose hood
they're telling about is warped as
hell and strange and perverted
and queer and it makes good
reading. You know what I mean,
it's interesting. Well, mine isn't.
Interesting, I mean. I am so damn
normal it makes me sick to my
stomach. By the way, did you
ever notice how they spell sto-
much. They spell it stomuch. Sto-
much! If that isn't a pretty how-
dy do. But hell new-monias the
same way. You can't win.
Well, I know one thing for
damn sure.
CATS ARE GOOD PEOPLE!
They are trustworthy, honest,
smelly, carriers of social diseases,
and help dead old ladies across
the wind tunnel. And you can't
beat that at Krogers. Hell, you
can't even beat it at the Barney
Stevens Store.
SUZIE STEPHEN'S -
by ECAT
"What did I have to do for it?-Just shorten the sleeves, dahling".
13
No Punch!
Nudes, Figleafs,
and Shrieks
written by judy edwards
Everyone's heard of the Lov-
able Girl of the Month, surely-
the busty advertisement in Sev-
enteen. Well, one summer my
impetuous sisters a nd their
friends decided to start a Lov-
able Girl of the Day club. They
called it the L.G.O.T.D. club and
no one had the vaguest idea what
it was all about.
These buxom young ladies
were the rage of the Wisconsin
lakeshore that summer. At any
rate, every morning the sport-
ing members would compete for
the honor of being Miss Lovable
for the day by appearing at
breakfast in their most tempting-
ly snug T-shirts. They obvious-
ly made quite an impression, but
the boys could not figure out
all the L.G.O.T.D. business. Each
day one of the girls would out-
do the rest and trip off with an
appropriately placed badge. The
club would honor her with the
theme song, "How Firm a Foun-
dation," and proceed to do ev-
ery conceivable service for her
all day.
I wasn't put together too reck-
lessly for my thirteen years, but
no matter how I strained to outdo
my competition, I couldn't seem
to push out in front. Neverthe-
less, when I appeared one morn-
ing in a T-shirt so low that I was
practically barefoot they charit-
ably named me Miss Lovable.
All day I felt so voluptuously
proud that (with a little cheat-
ing) I could have popped the but-
tons right off my T-shirt.
At ten o'clock that night I
met the club on the pier for my
initiation. They blindfolded me,
14
spun me around, and dragged
me off into the woods. After
threading about through the
woods for a while we drew near
the lake.
A moment later all my volup-
tuousness was deposited uncom-
fortably into the bottom of a
boat. We slid noiselessly away
from the shore. No one said a
word.
After what seemed like hours
of bumping about on the lake
our boat suddenly scraped
against land.
"Off with everything but your
shoes," Adele snapped.
I hated my sister Adele at
times like this, but she was de-
servedly president of the L.G.O.
T.D. club and commanded re-
spect from the more scrawney
ones. I blushingly complied.
Then the girls whipped out a
rope and tied me to a little tree.
They crushed an egg on my
head, emptied a jar of honey on
my shoulders, grabbed my
clothes and blindfold, and pad-
dled away.
I writhed and squirmed out of
the ropes and peered out to see
where I was. I saw that it was
a tiny, empty island in the mid-
dle of the lake. Behind me rose
a steep incline and on top of
the hill I could see waist-high
grass.
In hot pursuit of a figleaf I
scaled the incline. Dirt, grass
and insects climbed aboard coat-
ing my sticky, bare self. Smugly
thinking how dexterously I had
slithered out of the ropes, I set-
tled down in the high grass to
wait for the girls to return.
Presently I saw something
moving in the underbrush. Then
another movement, and another.
"Aha!" I thought. "They think
they're going to scare all hell
out of me from above!"
I s at motionless, silently
watching the grass move around
me. Little fishing cruisers were
darting around the lake with
white headlights. There was a
row boat or two anchored un-
comfortably close to my island.
I began to wish desperately that
the girls would cut out all this
mickey mouse and bring my
clothes.
Suddenly the four creeping fig-
ures arose. My heart lodged in
a knee.
Four of my brother's friends
stood within inches of me.
I let out an anguished scream
and they flew into the woods.
Howling with laughter, they
pushed off in their boats. I
shrieked for my sisters and bel-
lowed out my hatred for the
whole damned mess.
This brought fleets of outboards
scurrying toward the island from
all parts of the lake. I dashed
furtively from tree to tree as
spotlights skirted the island.
Boats landed.
By some miracle, the girls had
beat the fishermen to my res-
cue . . . which was rather a dis-
appointment, because if they
hadn't this story would really
have packed a punch.
Bummin'
Around
Dr. Trimble, sir, if I could just
have one small little bandage for
my knuckles. I've sort of been
beating at the bars you might
say. No sir, I mean prison bars.
You see tomorrow they're let-
ting us out for good behavior.
No, not in the morning, certain-
ly - we might go wild with a
whole day of freedom and tear
up all the pretty grass on the
Quadrangle. But just as soon as
we turn in to our 10:40 philoso-
phy teacher (and there are
things I'd rather turn into) a
paper on the futility . . or fer-
tility . . . or whatever . . . of
life, we're free! Well, not really
free. Just send in a buck some-
day.
* * * *
I know a funny boy who says
there's a drinking problem on
campus. The problem is where
to get it without any money.
One boy was so desper-
ate he went down to the book-
store for a roll of scotch tape.
And in one of my classes it's ev-
en worse . . . the teacher told
this fella he had an "S" or an
"M" and he yelled "S or" -
and went flying out the door.
Yes, sir, it's very strange. You'll
excuse me while I drop down
to that hat store on Strollway.
* * * *
Not that anybody has offered
me one, but I was thinking how
it would be for a girl to have a
car down here. Learning to
drive wouldn't be hard, because
we're all pretty experienced with
a clutch. In fact I'd really like
a new Dodge - I'm tired of us-
ing the one that, "I have a cold
and my lip hurts."
I can just see it now - I drive
up, park, pick up my date, park,
and back he is safe and sound.
When the front of Defoe at 12:30
begins to look the way the front
of Johnston does now, we'll know
that women are in the driver's
seat where they belong.
* * * *
Time marches on, and while it
may be marching into summer
camp for a large part of the
school, the rest of us have to find
summer jobs. From a girl's point
of view, going to any of a num-
ber of camps will save on the
clothes-buying problems. Or we
can always be resort waitresses
and serve up just what we want.
Who knows what we'll have to
resort to? So look around, fella,
the girl who's stacking your
dishes may be quite a well-stack-
ed dish herself.
DEFINITIONS
Abacus - a swear word.
Cameleer - dirty look given by
a camel.
Abalone - Expression of disgust.
Catalogue - Book about cats.
Absentee - Missing golf equip-
ment.
Chambray - Poor imitation of
a donkey's voice.
Balsam - To cry a lot.
Caballero - Jacket to wear in
a taxi
Debilitate - To pay one's debts.
Deliberate - To put back in jail.
Elide - Told a lie.
Fatigate - To gain weight
Genesis - Jenny's sister.
Hackneyed - Opposite of knock-
kneed.
Hermit - Lady's glove.
Jodphurs - Cat sounds.
Nitride - All night trip.
Octopus - Eight-legged cat.
Jugular - Shaped like a pit-
cher.
Impale - Not looking well.
Ransom - Travelled at lot.
Partite - Stingy father.
Savory - Savings bank.
Unicameral - Having only one
camera.
Quadrangle - Four-sided row.
Quatrain - Type of locomotive.
* * *
The farmers' daughter return-
ed from college for summer va-
cation and her father looked at
her and said, "Lost some weight,
haven't you?"
"Yes," she replied, "I only
weigh 110 pounds stripped for
gym."
The farmer leaped out of his
chair and screamed, "Who the
hell is Jim?"
Yeah, I was in Korea. Chosin . . . Inchon . . . I don't like to talk
about it, though.
15
Health and Sunshine at the
STABLE
by Dick Noel
Stuff
Swami's
Snorts
A college prof was taking roll
in one of his classes.
"Robinson."
"Here"
"Rosenthal"
"Here"
"Mary Smith"
"Here"
"Wannamaker"
"Yes"
1st Pi Phi: I walked 13 miles
yesterday.
2nd Pi Phi: For goodness sake.
1st Pi Phi: Yes.
The little man came home un-
expectedly to find his wife in the
arms of another man.
Angrily, he raised the man's
umbrella high over his head and
brought it down with all his
force, breaking it over his knee.
"There," he said, "I hope it
rains."
As the co-ed so aptly describ-
ed her date, "He's tall dark and
hands."
* * * *
Bartender, put two cherries in
my martini. The doctor said I
should eat more fruit.
Mother: Tell me, dear, whose lit-
tle boy are you?
Sonny: Hell, don't tell me you
dont' know.
A German in the Soviet zone
reported to the police that his
parrot was missing. He was ask-
ed whether the parrot talked.
"No," he replied, "it's dead."
YACHT CLUB
Missouri
Showme
J. Johnson Fruit & Produce Co.
Swami's
Snorts
Lady Godiva was the first joc-
key. She never placed but she
showed.
"My girl never goes out with
other men."
"How do you know?"
"She's in jail."
"Pardon me Mrs. Astor, but it
never would have happened if
you hadn't stepped between me
and the spitoon."
* * * *
A gold digger is a girl who
hates poverty worse than sin.
* * * *
Teacher: If a farmer sells 4500
bushels of wheat for $2.00 per
bushel, what will he get?
Student: A cadillac.
* * * *
There's a new aspirin on the
market, that contains chloro-
phyll. Its' for people that have
stinking headaches.
My brother took medicine at
college for four years, but he
quit. He wasn't getting any bet-
ter.
"How is your physical condi-
tion?"
"Fine. I've only been in a hos-
pital once, and that was on ac-
count of my mother."
"What did she have?"
"Me."
* * * *
She: Doctor, every time I smoke
a cigarette, I get passionate.
Can you help me?
Doctor: Have a cigar.
The Missouri
Store Co.
Italian Village
Allen Flowers
Bradys
Movie of the Month
A Public Service Feature
by bob williams
Singeing in the Rain, our
choice for movie of the month,
is the hottest show to come out
of Hollywood in years. The movie
based on the life of R. S. V. Perl-
louitt, a Norwegian ventroliquist,
co-stars Margaret O'Brien and
Charles Laughton, with Lady As-
tor and Jimmie Doolittle giving
excellent supporting perform-
ances.
The plot is simple, but heart-
rending. R. S. V. Perllouitt
(Charles Laughton) sings one
hundred and thirty-seven popular
songs. Marie Avoirdupois (Mar-
garet O'Brien) meets her boy-
friend's (Thomas Mitchell) cou-
sin (General MacArthur) on the
way to visit his aging grandmoth-
er (Dinah Shore).
Marie's boy friend Sam's cousin
Bill has a brother Dudley (Jim-
mie Doolittle) who wants an ap-
pointment to the new air acad-
emy, and wants Marie to see her
father (Mickey Rooney) about it.
Marie's father, Mr. Avoirdu-
pois, has three friends in the Pen-
tagon (Curley, Larry and Moe),
and Marie asks him if he would
contact them. Mr. Avoirdupois
calls in his secretary, a noted
ventriloquist, Mr. Perllouitt, and
dictates a letter to him, causing
Mr. Perllouitt to break out in
song. He sings the overture from
Dante's Inferno. While singing he
hits a very high note - a hell
of a note!
In due time, two officers from
Washington (a role well-played
by Albuquerque) come to Potts-
ville to interview Dudley for the
academy. The two officers (Amos
'n Andy) enter singing the duet
from The Wild One.
Meanwhile, Marie, back at the
Lone Ranger's (J. Arthur Rank)
cabin, has teamed up with Tonto
(Dr. Christian, and Paint (Judy).
Marie gets Paint in her hair
whereupon she sings , "I'm goin'
to wash that mein right outta
muh hair".
The film ends as Lassie (Las-
sie) charges into the scene, hav-
ing just been seduced by Rin Tin
Tin (Waldo). Marie and R. S. V.
Perllouitt ride off into the sun-
set, seemingly unaware that they
have no transportation whatsoev-
er.
The picture is in Cimarron-
scope, with color by Crayola. Un-
fortunately, the night we saw it,
the curtain stuck at the Niger,
and the picture seemed a bit fuz-
zy. We do, however, recommend
this picture to an adult audience
only, as one scene depicts the
birth of a baby conger eel.
Swami's
Snorts
I know a psychiatrist who
guarantees to cure you in a
week or you get your mania
back.
My wife called me from the
hospital and told me that the
baby weighed five pounds. I told
her to bring him home anyway.
It was better than nothing.
* * * *
Tip for freshman and visitors to
Columbia: To avoid that run-
down feeling, stay off the
streets.
* * * *
Tomorrow: Today's greatest la-
bor-saving device.
* * * *
He stood on the bridge at mid-
night,
And tickled her with his toes.
But he was just a mosquito
And it was the bridge of her
nose.
* ***
Father: The boy who marries
my daughter will get a prize.
Boy: May I see it?
"That girl I was out with Sat-
urday night looked like she had
dropped from Heaven."
"Yeah, without a parachute."
* * * *
"Doc, was my operation a suc-
cess?"
"Sorry, old man. I'm Saint Pe-
ter."
* * * *
Jerry: Let's not have any more
jokes about sex, liquor, or pro-
fanity.
Chip: I'm tired of putting out
this magazine, too.
Greenspons
The
SHACK
SHO Me
BARBER SHOP
COLLINS' TAVERN
Campus
Jewelers
DRAKE'S DRIVE-IN
Swami's
Snorts
1st Susie: She looks like Helen
Green.
2nd Susie: Yes, and she looks
even worse in pink.
* * * *
"Did you hear about the paper
doll who committed suicide?"
"No. Why did she do it?"
"She found out her mother was
an old bag."
* * * *
"I want to get some grapes for
my sick husband. Do you know
if any poison has been sprayed
on them?"
"No ma'm. You'll have to get
that at the drug store."
* * * *
Little Willie wrote a book.
Woman was the theme he took.
Woman was his only text
Little Willie's oversexed.
* * * *
A college man is like a can of
Bab-O. He works fast and leaves
no ring.
* * * *
Adam and Eve were the first
bookkeepers. They invented the
looseleaf system.
* * * *
A despondent old gentleman
emerged from his club and got
into his limousine.
"Where to, sir?" asked the
chauffer.
"Off a cliff," he replied, "I'm
committing suicide."
Two mosquitos were resting
on Robinson Crusoe's arm.
"I'm leaving now," said one,
"I'll see you on Friday."
Swami's
Snorts
Sign in fashion window of an
Italian clothing store: Don't be
mistaken for an American tour-
ist. Wear Italian-made clothes.
* * * *
America was discovered many
times before 1492, but they al-
ways managed to hush it up.
Little Boy: Mother, why does it
rain?
Mother: To make the grass and
trees grow, dear.
Little Boy: Then why does it
rain on the sidewalk?
* * *
Little girl: Daddy, mommy just
drowned one of my kittens.
Daddy: Don't cry, dear, maybe
mommy had to.
Little Girl: No, she didn't. She
promised me I could.
* * * *
Campus Cop: Young man are
you going to kiss that girl?
Freshman: No sir.
Campus Cop: Well then, hold
my flashlight.
"This bed," the antique dealer
confided, "belonged to my own
great-great-grandmother."
"Sure," the unbelieving pros-
pect replied, "And I'll bet it's
one of the beds George Wash-
ington slept in."
"Very likely, sir," said the
dealer, "but we never can get
great-great grandmother to ad-
mit it."
* * * *
Then there was the time they
crossed a rooster with a rooster
and got a very cross rooster.
NEUKOMMS
Julie's
H.R.Mueller
Florist
Sudden Service Cleaners
Swami's
Snorts
Knock, knock
Who's there?
The traveling salesman.
The traveling salesman who
Yes.
Come in.
Mark Anthony: I want to see
Cleopatra.
Servant: She's in bed with
laryngitis.
Mark: Damn those Greeks.
We were never able to find
Grandma's glasses, but now she
leaves them just where she emp-
ties them.
Silas Clam lies on the floor.
He tried to slam a swinging
door.
An optimist is a man who fig-
ures when his shoes wear out
he'll be back on his feet.
"What makes you think this is
a night for wild oats?"
"Your eyes told me sow."
She: "Swell party tonight."
He: "Yeah, I'd ask you for the
next dance, but all the cars are
taken."
Prof: Do you think Henry
Ford would make a good presi-
dent?
Clever Student: Verily, he has
the makings of another Lincoln.
Swami's
Snorts
The origin of the saying, "Oh,
yeah," has been attributed to an
unbelieving bridegroom who, upon
hearing his bride say, "Now I lay
me dow nto sleep," said to him-
self, "Oh, Yeah."
He: Will you have breakfast
with me tomorrow morning?
She: Sure.
He: Shall I phone you or
nudge you?
She: I caught my boy friend
necking.
She: I caught mine the same
way.
Abe sued his wife for divorce
after she bore him triplets for the
fourth time. He charged her with
being overbearing.
He: I've finally met a girl who
was well reared.
He: How'd she look from the
front?
"What's the date of the Roman
conquest" It's next to your
thumb."
BARTH CLOTHING CO., INC.
Andy's Corner
THE PIZZA HOUSE
The Stables
Swami's
Snorts
Jim: I wish I had a nickel for
every girl I've kissed.
Lil: What would you do, buy a
pack of gum?
We went for a ride and all she
did was shake her head. After
sixty-three miles she -told me her
nose was caught in the windshield
wiper.
"About that date I told you I'd
dig up. . ."
"Why, I'm ashamed of you, my
son," the father fumed at his loaf-
ing son.
"When George Washington
was your age, he had become a
surveyor and was hard at work."
"And when he was your age,"
the boy said softly, "he was presi-
dent."
Epitaph on old maid's tomb:
"Who says you can't take it with
you?"
Sign on the sheriff's desk: "Out
for lynch. Back at 1 o'clock."
Swami's
Snorts
Attention! You can cure your
roommate of snoring by advice,
cooperation, kindness and by
stuffing an old shirt in his mouth.
You haven't had a real hang
over until you can't stand the
noise made by Bromo Seltzer.
"Darling, am I the first man
you ever loved?"
"Yes, Reginald. All the others
were fraternity boys."
A drunk was standing on a
Montreal street corner one night
saying in a loud voice: "Ish im-
possible, ish, impossible."
"What's impossible?" inquired
a passing cop.
"That sign up there," replied
the drunk. "It saish 'Drink Can-
ada Dry'."
"You've read that sentence
wrong, Miss Adams, it's all men
are created equal, not all men
are made the same way."
A lady bought a parrot from
a pet store, only to learn that it
cursed every time that it said
anything. She put up with it as
long as she could, but finally
one day she lost her patience.
"If I ever hear you curse again"
she declared, "I'll wring your
neck."
A few minutes later, she re-
marked rather casually that it
was a fine day. Whereupon the
parrot said "It's a hell of a fine
day today." The lady immediate-
ly took the parrot by the head,
spun him around in the air until
he was almost dead.
"Now, then," she said, "It's a
fine day, isn't it?"
"Fine day," sputtered the par-
rot, "where the hell were you
when the cyclone struck?"
Breezy Hill
Life Savers
O.K. Simpson. Confess. Now where did you
put that gun?
". . . And so the horrible witch, after bludgeoning both of the little
children, lived happily ever after."
Lafter
Thoughts
Whada ya say, Killer? Hows about a fast game of old maid.
Swami's
Snorts
Sir, may I have your daughter
for my wife?
Bring your wife around and
we'll see.
"What would you call an old
maid doing the dance of the sev-
en veils?"
"A comic strip."
Mother: Now, Junior be a
good boy and say "ahh-h" so
the nice doctor can get his fin-
ger out of your mouth."
Nudism is a back-to-the-form
movement.
An old man is a guy that can't
take "yes" for an answer.
* *
A woman without principle
draws considerable interest.
* * *
Many a fork in the road has
been used for a spoon.
He: They had to shoot poor
old Fido today.
She: Was he mad?
He: He wasn't any too pleased.
Am I the first girl you ever
kissed?
As a matter of tact, yes
Her Dad is in charge of a
large number of Missourians.
What is he, a prison guard?
No; he delivers newspapers.
What do you think of her
features?
Fair, but they seem a little
bowlegged.
ESSER
TEXACO TOWN
ERNIE'S
STEAK
HOUSE
Contributors'
Page
SUE LEGA
Always located near the beer
Keg at Swami's T.G.I.F.'s, Sue
"Bottoms Up" Lega manages to
receive enough inspiration to
draw art work for Swami's hope-
ful advertisers. She is a senior
from St. Louis and hopes that
eventually her bills will be for-
gotten so she can return home.
Sue lives over at "Widows
Roost", sometimes referred to as
Gentry Hall and from this base
of operations sallies forth on her
many activities, most notewor-
thy of which are: Student Un-
ion Activities Board, Election
Board, Savitar Board, Carousel
Art Director, and Chug-a-lug
champion of the roost.
She has ten short weeks of
school left to snare a husband
and failing this, will probably
get a job in advertising or art
work.
Her advice to MRS.-hunting
freshmen is: "start looking im-
mediately, the early bird gets the
worm."
ED PRUESS
One snowy day last winter Ed
Pruess (it rhymes with aeious)
entered the musty confines of
Read Hall heading for the "Good
Old Student" office. After mak-
ing a few wrong turns he stumbl-
ed into the Showme office and
has been doing cartooning and
art work since.
Ed lives over on college ave-
nue, near Stephens, but his wife
- the former Betty Lou Kelly, a
Gamma Phi Beta - protects him
from the corrupt advances of the
amorous Susies.
He is an escapee of Jefferson
City and is presently wearing the
uniform of the Army R.O.T.C.
His rotcy friends know him as
"short round" and say the name
comes from firing at the wrong
point on a raunchy M-10 plotting
board he had decorated.
Ed is a senior and is majoring
in interior design. He is also in-
terested in fabrics - he present-
ly is working on a comfortable
strait-jacket for enterprising psy-
chologists - furniture designing
and interior decorating.
Scabbard & Blade
ALLEN'S FLOWERS
Winston
Cigarettes