Gossip Guy

We’re firmly entrenched in the two-month long Christmas season and Gossip Guy is loading up on the holiday essentials: valium
By Gossip Guy

We’re firmly entrenched in the two-month long Christmas season and Gossip Guy is loading up on the holiday essentials: valium and vodka.  To help you weather the holiday season, Gossip Guy is ordering a 200 mg of lies, 500 mg of rumors and double shots of innuendos.

UC Presidential candidate Steve W. Sheehan ’05 has adopted a campaign strategy that is novel perhaps only for its utter lack of novelty. Sheehan’s campaign has borrowed the layout and wording of outgoing UC President Robert Gupta’s campaign posters and has made hiring Robert as a private consultant to the UC a centerpiece of his platform. When asked his vision for the future, Sheehan offered only an abrupt one-word response: “Robert.” Coincidentally, Sheehan also offered the same response to the questions “What is your name?” and “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Just because you’ve long since graduated doesn’t mean you can’t spend most of the Harvard-Yale game in the back of a U-Haul vomiting all over yourself. Before the first kickoff, Doris K. Jupiter ’81-’83 found herself face down on the cold sheet metal floor of the Delphic’s U-Haul, her head cushioned only by a pile of disgorged scrambled egg chunks, in a nostalgic scene reminiscent of last year’s Harvard-Yale. “We didn’t do anything to help [Doris] because her son seemed to have the situation well in control,” says Delphic member Ben H. Derringer ’04, “but, then, he went to take his tricycle for a spin and we knew that it was going be a long, lonely afternoon for his mommy.”

At The Game, New Haven-area resident Jerry T. Adams ’06 found himself in a Harvard-Yale contest of his own: competing with his 17 year-old sister in a beer funnel race to see if the younger, more precious Adams would win the right to go tailgate with the Yale wrestling team. Adams lost the race to his sister and, so, lost his sister to the wrestling team. After regaining consciousness, the elder Adams simply shrugged off the defeat. “She goes to an all girls Catholic school,” says Adams, “I never had a chance in hell of taking her.” No, it seems that would require the entire Yale University wrestling squad.

When the port-o-potty’s rockin’, don’t come a’ knockin’.  Simeon R. Buell ’05 and his ex-girlfriend and sometimes fuck-buddy, Alison F. Harmon ’06 found all sorts of relief when they ventured off to use the facilities at the Harvard-Yale tailgates. The very drunk couple upchucked several liters of bodily fluids between them and then, with their equilibrium partially restored, proceeded to swap much of what remained in an impromptu two hour romp within the potty’s narrow confines. The entire tryst was accompanied by the uproarious cheers of the gentleman in the adjacent potty, who only interrupted his chorus of “booyas” and “fuck-yeahs” for an occasional grunting crap-heave.

Over the Thanksgiving break, Jarred D. Johnson ’05 was thankful to learn that his high school sweetheart Tracy had recently split up with her husband of two years. Johnson was somewhat less thankful to discover that the marriage ended when a suspected infidelity drove her husband into a state of raging delirium that caused him to assail his wife’s lover with an aluminum baseball bat. Johnson was even less thankful to discover that Tracy’s ex is still on the loose. Johnson, however, was least thankful to learn all of this after sleeping with Tracy and making her finally realize — four times — that her ex-husband was a “worthless, impotent sack of shit” that she would “never, ever get back together with under any circumstances— ever!”