Students Eat Feces, Talk of Firing Edsall at Campus Farm

It was a spectacle like no other. Last night, reporters at the University of Maryland Campus farm on Paint Branch Drive documented a feast encompassing over 1000 students, but they weren’t eating turkey.

They were eating shit. Pig shit, to be exact.

“North Campus diner f*****g sucked tonight,” said one student. “Like, it wasn’t even edible. It was terrible.”

So they were eating pig feces.

Last night's banquet hall

“WHAT ELSE ARE WE GOING TO DO?” shouted one student, stuffing handfuls of excrement into his mouth. “We can’t eat that crap. What other choice do we have?” At that point, the student appeared to have confused himself. He simply blurted out, “Fire Edsall.”

Reporters struggled to extract any more explanations for the bizarre behavior. The students were not interested in such mundane topics. They all unceasingly spouted reasons why the University of Maryland should immediately dismiss head football coach Randy Edsall.

In Edsall’s first year as coach, the Terps struggled to a 2-10 season, losing their last seven games by double digit margins.

A majority of the students eating feces were wearing “Fire Edsall” shirts. Though none of the media on scene were sports reporters, they were able to engage the students on the topics.

“What do you say about the athletic department’s five million dollar budget deficit, plus the ten million it would take to replace Edsall and his staff?” asked a Diamondback reporter of a student arms deep in feces.

“Look at the numbers. Look at the donations we’re losing. Look at the ticket losses! We’re losing money, but we can totally afford the replacement!” said the student, his “Fire Edsall” shirt covered in pig slop. “If we don’t replace him, we will sink into a lethal spiral and the program will never win a game again and lose billions of dollars.”

“Where did you get these numbers?” asked the reporter.

Students who want to Fire Edsall eat shit en masse, apparently.

“Ted,” he replied, pointing to another student whose head was lost inside a pig’s rectum, his neck pulsing with the effort of swallowing.

After awhile, the students seemed incapable of anything beyond consuming feces and babbling “Fire Edsall.” Reporters continued to press the students to explain why they were eating excrement instead of simply waiting until morning for the diners to serve new food. Answers were short and simple.

“We’re hungry now.”

“Fire Edsall.”

“What’s so hard to understand? We want food. There’s nothing to eat. So we’re eating shit. Fire Edsall.”

One student came somewhat prepared.

“Results are like eating nacho cheese,” he said, pouring some of the same all over his plate of hot feces. “If it isn’t fast enough, you could have a real problem on your hands.” And with that, he shoved the whole plate into his mouth.

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Porky the Pig contributed to this report. He can be reached at thirstyturtletimes@gmail.com

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Our Lives: An Advertisement by FLAME

Editor’s note: Recently, many of you have heard of the controversial ad displayed in The Diamondback, the student newspaper of the University of Maryland, which presented the opinions of FLAME, a pro-Israeli political advocacy group that seeks to raise awareness of Middle Eastern issues.  Many people took offense to what they perceived to be slanderous hate speech by the advertisement, and the school’s Student Government Association went so far as to condemn the paper.

At the Thirsty Turtle Times, “standards” are like business at the Barking Dog – nonexistent. Since day one, our “About” page has told the truth – that like our namesake, we will admit anything with a pulse.

And so, the Thirsty Turtle Times is proud to print the original advertisement by FLAME, uncut, which the Diamondback deemed to “inflammatory” to publish. Enjoy!

Our Lives: An Advertisement by FLAME

The time has come for the United States to move on from its forced “friendship” with the Arab people. The Arabs are Monsters. They are demon spawn, and their hate, their incompatibility with democracy, and their desire to murder Jews is in their blood.

We have a series of expectations as a unified group of proud Zionists. This is the first request we must raise and do: that our people be free, that these Arab chains that bind us be burst asunder, that Israel be once again captain of her soul and master of her destinies, together with all those who want to join the only democracy in the Middle East, not counting Lebanon, Turkey, Tunisia or Libya. They don’t count; they’re Arab.

And the fulfillment of this first demand will then open up the way for all the other ‘reforms’ that are so necessary.  And here is one thing that perhaps distinguishes us from you as far as our program is concerned, although it is very much in the spirit of things: our attitude to the Arab problem.

For us, this is not a problem you can turn a blind eye to – one to be solved by small concessions from either side, be they settlement stoppages, “land” or “civil liberties.”  For FLAME, it is a problem of whether our nation of Israel can ever recover its health, whether the Muslim spirit can ever really be eradicated.

If only one society, for whatever reason, tolerates a Muslim family in it, that family will become the germ center for fresh sedition. If one little Arab boy survives with no Mosque or Madrasah, without any Jihadist training, Islamo-fascism is still in his soul. Even if there had never been a Mosque or a Madrasah or a Koran, the Islamist spirit would still exist and exert its influence. It has been there from the beginning and there is no Arab, not a single one, who does not personify it.

Don’t be misled into thinking you can fight a disease without killing the carrier, without destroying the bacillus.  Don’t think you can fight racial tuberculosis without taking care to rid the nation of the carrier of that racial tuberculosis.  This Arab contamination will not subside, this poisoning of the nation will not end, until the carrier himself, the Arab, has been banished from our midst.

Do what is right. Support the Israeli people in their quest for peace, by letting them know they are wrong to support Palestinian statehood. Help FLAME convince the U.S. government squash these dangerous Islamist/Jihadist uprisings in Syria, Yemen, Egypt, Libya, and more – which were clearly planned by Osama Bin Laden and ACORN, aimed at toppling peace-loving dictators in favor of something intolerable – Arab democracy. Remember, the security and peace of Israeli Jews is far more important than peace, freedom, justice, and economic opportunity for over a billion Arabs. The Arabs are a monstrous collection of devil’s advocacy; they are the antithesis of civilized man. They must be exterminated.

This has been an Advertisement by FLAME, minus the written words or implied exchange of money. Das Fuhrer contributed to this report.

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The O’Doul’s Diary: Diluted Debauchery

Have you ever listened to someone describe a night of heavy drinking to you? The story usually starts off sensibly: your friend describes his day, the time, the occasion, and so on. He’ll go on to describe the type of beverage that was consumed, the people that were there, maybe even an incident or two.

However, halfway through his rendition, the storyteller becomes a little hazy, struggling to piece together the story. As it transitions towards the end, you find yourself not only puzzled about the logical progression of the story, but also incensed that you spend the past several minutes listening to the person repeating to you, “You should have been there brah” because he doesn’t even know what the fuck happened. As you wait impatiently for the story to conclude, your friend starts apologizing for the lack detail, continually repeating “I was so drunk” like it’s a good excuse for telling a shitty story. Finally the soap opera ends with a generic conclusion like “somehow I made it home” or “I totally passed out.”

Yeah…that can pretty much summarize The Rum Diary.

GK Films The Rum Diary is based off of the Hunter S. Thompson novel which follows the life of journalist Paul Kemp (Johnny Depp), during his stay in 1950s Puerto Rico. While in Puerto Rico, Kemp receives a job writing for a rundown local newspaper – remember, this is 60 years ago. Kemp quickly finds a cliché ensemble of quirky but loyal drunkard columnists and they begin to introduce Kemp to the “rum-soaked” life of San Juan.

During Kemp’s stay in Puerto Rico, he becomes taken with total smokeshow Chenault (Amber Heard), the fiancé of an entrepreneur named Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart). In an attempt to open more hotels in Puerto Rico, Sanderson offers a lucrative deal to Kemp in exchange for Kemp to write a favorable article towards Sanderson’s property development scheme.

Afterwards the plot continues like any respectable movie shou-… wait…

Oh yeah! There’s a chicken fight and a hallucination with a freakishly long human tongue. And… hmm…what else… oh, something involving Chenault in a night club. And… uhhh… does any of this make sense to you? No, because if you’re one of the 99% of this movie’s audience that didn’t read the book, you’ll have absolutely no idea what actually happened.

Long story short, Kemp suddenly grows a sack and decides to ruin Sanderson’s development plan. However, Sanderson shuts down Kemp’s newspaper, so Kemp “takes the bastard down” by anti-climatically stealing Sanderson’s boat and sailing it off into the sunset.

The End

Believe it or not, the cohesion in my synopsis perfectly reflects the cohesion in the film. Between the dry dialogue and the unclear direction, the film falls short of really connecting to the audience. Bruce Robinson (writer of this tragedy) focused too much on forcing gonzo-like catch phrases into the story rather than implementing exciting and sinister drug-laced situations. To make matters worse, Robinson attempts to give Kemp a transformed view of morals and principles as the movie wraps up. If you look closely, even Depp rolls his eyes as he regurgitates his brain-freezing lines.

Many people went to see this movie in hopes it’ll be a revamped version of the 1998 cult favorite, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. The MPAA Rating alone should have been a red flag for all of us. The film’s rating was R for language, brief drug use and sexuality.

BRIEF?!?!?

Who goes to a Hunter Thompson movie for brief drug use? I want to see ominously dark characters indulging in absolute depravity. If you market a film to the Hunter S. Thompson niche, fifty percent of the movie should be of the main characters going through outrage-induced drug binges. I want – nay, I need to see the protagonist find himself in a satanic animal sacrifice while his deranged sidekick is shooting up a narcotic Neapolitan. I need to see an underage Vietnamese crack whore going down on our inebriated hero in exchange for an ounce of opium he lied about smoking. But we didn’t get that. Instead we got the hangover and blue balls.

This film fell tragically short from its implication. Thanks for letting me down. Fuck you.

Frank Mayo is a 2005 graduate of Syrit College. He can be reached at sniffthismuffdiver@yahoo.com

Remember Turtle

Go hard tonight, but save a minute of silence for the Thirsty Turtle, our wonderful namesake which closed down one year ago today.

The Thirsty Turtle opened in November 2007, replacing many businesses that had shuttered there in the past. Owing to an unusually large retail space in the notoriously poor business environment of College Park, businesses struggled to survive at the location in the past. Turtle was different.

They innovated. And they lived.

Within a matter of months, the Thirsty Turtle became known as an underage watering hole. While the bar officially carded all patrons, the standards were notoriously lax. Many students described the pitiful quality of the fake I.D.s they used to gain entry, and in September and October of 2010, undercover cadets of the University of Maryland Police Department successfully gained entry to the bars using their real, underage I.D.s

Beyond becoming the mecca of teenage euphoria, Turtle became a cultural touchstone of the University of Maryland. To this editor, it represented the face of a D1 party school, six months before transferring to UMD.

The Thirsty Turtle was forced to surrender its liquor license in November 2010, following a stabbing incident that involved several of its patrons. The political pressure the bar faced was insurmountable, and College Park lost yet another local business.

To them, it was a bar and a “problem.” To us, it was home.

LONG LIVE TURTLE

Long Live Turtle.

Yours truly,

Editor-in-Chief

Wallace Loh’s Halloween Costume Causes Mayhem

It was termed “A Halloween gone terribly wrong” by University of Maryland Police Chief David Mitchell.  It was certainly a story worth telling.

“I would call it irrational exuberance,” said University President Wallace Loh.

On Halloween night, Loh decided to adorn the costume he thought was scarier than any other – an underage student drinking Natural Light beer. According to his wife, Barbara, he would not stop “giggling” as he put it on. It was after he glued a Natural Light beer can to his cuff that Loh caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Artist’s rendering of Loh’s costume

“LOH NO!” he screamed.

“OH MY GOD THERE’S A MONSTER IN MY MIRROR BARBARA GET RID OF HIM!”

Mrs. Loh, confused, attempted to calm her husband. The only thing Wallace saw in the mirror was his wife lovingly approach an underage drinking student.

“NO!” he screamed. “STAY AWAY FROM MY BARBARA!”

After swinging his hot fire poker at his mirror, Loh called the UMPD, and screamed that a student was drinking illegally in his house and making advances on his wife. In the recording of the 911 call, largely indistinguishable through Loh’s callous screaming, the words Loh used the most were “Kill, kill, kill!”

Arriving on the scene with four cruisers, a battering ram, and a helicopter, the police broke into Loh’s house and immediately arrested him. Tying him to his living room armchair next to his fireplace, they began to taunt and question him.

Dr. Loh and his wife

“Frat guy in the house!” ranted a captain.

“Big tough guy with his big tough beer!” spat a sergeant

“Who’s in charge here?” demanded one lieutenant.

“I am,” responded Loh.

“Where are the deputies?” inquired another lieutenant to roaring laughter.

At that point, Loh slowly raised his finger, pointing to his employees one-by-one, from cop to cop. Their smiles vanished.

Chaos reigned.

For the next four-and-a-half hours, the President’s Residence was torn asunder by furious gunfire, as well as a few grenade explosions. Each officer attempted to arrest the other four for underage drinking, despite the men ranging in age from mid 20s to lower 60s, while Wallace Loh struggled to shield his wife from the mayhem and destruction.

It seemed the only officer willing to “accept” he had indeed drank underage was Lieutenant Philip Tou. In total shame, Tou attempted to take his own life during the firefight, but his skull was too thick for a bullet to pass through.

After all the officers exhausted their ammunition, they began fighting hand-to-hand, using whatever weapons they could scrounge, including burning embers from the fire, hot fire pokers, and the empty firearms. There appeared to be no end in sight to the pandemonium.

Reenactment of Monday night’s events:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IdkAgP_nDg4&w=420&h=315]

The officers were finally distracted from their fight by a mysterious crackling and slapping sound. Silent for a moment, it didn’t take the five officers and two Lohs long to realize that the mansion they were in was under assault – by a barrage of eggs.

Having momentarily forgotten that it was still Halloween night, it took a moment for those inside to catch their bearings. But it was Tou who took control.

“TILL DEATH!” he screamed, to roars of concord, and the officers grabbed every weapon they could from Loh’s secret armory in his cellar.

In the year of our Lord 2011, policemen of Maryland, overfed and over-equipped, charged the fields of College Park. They fought like Wallace Loh-its. They fought like Terrapins, and stole their freedom.

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Mel Gibson contributed to this report

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Tornado Devastates UMPD Captain’s Imagination

COLLEGE PARK – The damage told the story.

In a city still reeling from the revelation of a dead hippo lodged in the floorboards of a local bar, officials were mortified when a massive tornado ripped through University of Maryland Police Captain Marc Limansky’s imagination, causing untold damage and leaving Limansky’s concept of reality in shambles.

UMPD Captain Marc Limansky's imagination (visual approximation)

Last week, a Limansky, having received his information from “outstandingly trustworthy sources,” warned the University of Maryland community of an impending tornado via UMD Alerts, the campus’s emergency notification system.  Despite repetitive texts and emails that warned of the tornado’s arrival in 13, 10, and 4 minutes, no tornado touched down – Except in Limansky’s imagination, where the damage was simply inhuman.

“As we all know, this is a very sensitive region,” said UMPD Chief of Police David Mitchell. “It is no iron palace. Things break down easily up there. The capacity for minor issues to grow into terrible problems is enormous. A tornado was the last thing that place needed – the damage is irreparably catastrophic.”

Initial damage estimates were high. Mitchell yesterday requested additional funds from University President Loh to cope with the destruction. Though President Loh approved, Limansky flat-out denied the aid, insisting that the money was essential to the fight against rampant underage drinking.

“I really like having rational thought proceses,” Limansky said. “But devoting only 99% of our department’s resources to oppress underage drinking is unacceptable.”

Chief Mitchell agreed.

“The force needs these funds” he said. “With all the destruction these parties and tornadoes cause, we can only assume that one day, they’ll damage actual society.”

_

Glenn Beck contributed to this report.

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Story of Bentley’s Hippo Unveiled

This past August, the College Park community was shocked to discover that a dead hippopotamus had been uncovered underneath the floorboards at R.J. Bentley’s Filling Station. Originally a mystery, The Thirsty Turtle Times has uncovered the true story through a variety of sources, public and private.

R.J. Bentley’s

In June of 1928, what is currently known as R.J. Bentley’s Filling Station was just a five-year-old gas station named College Park Auto Place.

Current Bentley’s owner John Brown reveals to us that then-owner Jonas Giller was furious with a zoology expedition at the University of Maryland. Out of an abundance of caution, local authorities had forbidden automobiles from entering town, robbing Giller of any business for the day.

As the expedition wound down, the hippopotamus keeper stopped at College Park Auto Place for gas. Giller then allegedly ordered his hourly staffer to open the hippo pen, intending to cause a diversion.

Both hippos escaped. While one vanished into the woods, the other went rampaging on Route One, killing dozens of students who had been drinking at the bowling alley up the street. Giller used the diversion to steal two pigs from a separate cart.

The story of the hippos faded quickly, as locals were much more enraged that students were drinking underage at the bowling alley.  The students who died were condemned; those who lived were expelled. The hourly worker who opened the hippo pen was hailed as a hero for helping to expose the corruption.

“If those students hadn’t been drinking, they wouldn’t have died. It’s their fault,” remarked University of Maryland Police spokesman Marc Limansky, who had no knowledge of a second hippo.

Since the first hippo was causing so much damage, it is believed that the second hippo, which was never found, wandered unnoticed into Bentley’s, whose remaining staff had gone to help at the bowling alley.  Likely pursuing the pigs that Giller had hid in the cellar, the hippo scaled shelves and somehow wedged itself into a two-foot crawl space to eat the pigs.

After that, it did not immediately die. Living under a busy autoshop during a time when regulating the environment was laughable, the hippo survived for a while on leaking gasoline and used motor oil, which slowly corroded its insides. Eventually the hippo developed a block in its intestines, making it impossible for the animal to have bowel movements. As the gasoline mixed with the pig remains, the beast swelled.

The hippo’s life was extended in a coma-like state until 1978, when R.J. Bentley’s Filling Station replaced College Park Auto Place.  Interestingly, the new owners chose not to inspect the cellar or floorboards, assuming all was well.

“I didn’t even know this place had a basement until last week,” remarked Brown.

Interior of R.J. Bentley’s after the floorboards were removed

Though there was no more gasoline for the hippo to survive on, soon excess amounts of beer were leaking through the floors, and miraculously, the alcohol cleared the hippo’s intestinal block.

And yet, the hippo was still stuck in its own feces. The mess combined with the heavy yeast in all the beer gave the hippo a rectal fungus infection, as well as terrible indigestion and flatulence.

Slowly the clientele shifted from alumni to students, increasing the vomit the hippo was eating. The bar also began to see a much more active nightlife – more dancing, more people, more sweating.

Sexual activity increased on the dance floor, and it appeared at one point the hippo was impregnated with a half-human-half-hippo baby from fresh semen that leaked through the floor. Officials say there’s evidence to suggest this may have happened more than once.

The hippo was believed to have died in the mid 1980s, and with its death, the anal fungus spread throughout the Bentley’s floorboard. Nothing was discovered until the summer of 2011, 83 years after the pigs were first stuffed into the basement.

The unearthed mess included the hippo full of everything it had ever consumed since 1928, including at least one dead pig, over a ton of ultra-refined semi-digested gasoline, several thousand gallons of beer, vomit, semen, a dead half-human half-hippo baby, all covered in several inches of sopping wet slimy mold, which clearly had an apex at the creature’s anus.

“I don’t believe that story,” said Chad Killian, a student and frequent attendant of Bentley’s. “It just smelled a whole lot worse than that.”

The smells have somewhat persisted, and the investigation continues.

Steve Irwin contributed to this report

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FAKE WALLACE LOH: The Lohpression of Evil

Comrades,

Dr. Wallace D. Loh

I wish to tell you the story of a boy named Timmy.

Timmy was a bright young student at the University of Maryland. He was a brilliant child and a future leader. Timmy was also a good student and a volunteer of many good causes. He was the pride of our great school.

But then, disaster struck. An arrogant, pompous brat of the dark side named Thomas came storming into Timmy’s life with the force of a thousand red bulls. The wicked Thomas grabbed hold of Timmy like Satan himself, and forced the devil’s elixir down his throat.

They had taken our wonderful boy! Shocked his adrenaline, boiled his brain, exposed him to fat chicks! OUR SOULLESS TIMMY, CONQUERED BY THOMAS!

But there’s hope.

Most glorious Army of the Republic, the officers of the University of Maryland Police Department, who will stop at nothing to eradicate this terrible scourge upon our happy home, have recently been authorized by me to slaughter the enemy with total impunity.

My fearless policemen bravely fired upon Thomas as he attempted to poison helpless Timmy. Thomas was killed, but poor Timmy was caught in the crossfire. He did not make it. We will make him a martyr of our glorious pursuit of cleansing our streets of this disgusting poison. And remember, the important thing is that we killed Thomas.

The precious, sweet, innocent children wander through the streets, lost and confused, hoodwinked and delirious. The fumes of hellfires roast their brains like hot sirloin. The demon spirits drown our young boys and girls in darkness and delirium.

Yes, those terrible, monstrous, horrific demon spirits! How dare they poison the innocent? They chant that it is the way – that they are entitled to their right to imbibe the swill of Satan. But what is personal when there are victims? The perpetrator may BE the victim, but their actions go against the state, and as we know, the state is the highest moral torchbearer of our society.

I will prioritize this holy cause – sports, health, safety and societal functionality are luxuries we can’t afford right now. Rest assured, I will stop at nothing. We will never quit, until the great scourge of underage drinking is purged from our streets, now and forever!

Because through the heart of evil pumps not blood, but bourbon straight. And the devil’s elixir will have no place in Wallace Loh’s College Park!

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BdvUR67nZs0&w=420&h=315]

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Wallace Loh has been President of the University of Maryland since November 1st, 2010. Fake Wallace Loh, his unofficial alter-ego, began tweeting on March 31st, 2011 (@fakewallaceloh), and can be reached at wallacedloh@gmail.com.