A tragic story that's trauma only increases during finals...

Tragedy continues to strike female NCC students!

In a heartbreaking continuation of events, skanky co-eds have reported a complete inability to earn some special “extra credit” from any of their professors. Despite their continued searching, not a single professor, male or female, has turned out to be “lonely” and willing to provide “one-on-one tutoring” to help students get their grade up. Most drastic of all, even the older married professors who surely should be going through mid-life crises right about now, still maintain that they are in love with their wives. Their wives, for crissake! 40, 50, possibly 60 year old graying matrons, pooched out from childbirth, decades of wedded life, and a staid existence on a professor’s salary! How could they possibly compete in any way to young, nubile, co-eds, eager to learn, please, and achieve at least a C on their midterm? It’s a sorry, crying shame when even rich Laguna Beach wannabes can’t use their designer slut outfits and “daddy’s little girl” attitudes to win a few extra points in class. What are their parents paying all the big books for? Why would these unfortunate, repressed co-eds attend such a high-quality institution if they were actually expected to do some work? This may be the end of life as we know it. If something isn’t done soon, those nerdy academics and star jocks might be the only ones getting the good grades. For shame.

Poppies VS Minefields.....

...will the army train giant pouched rats?

No matter what we do or say or write, real life will always beat us out in the realm of teh funny.
www.apopo.org

Chartwells Conspiracy: This One May Actually Exist!

by The Hungry Proletariat

The rumors started early. Whispers went around campus that recent staff changes in Kaufman, the Cage, and the Boiler House were not a result of retirement or graduation, but of an insidious and oppressive new regime inside Chartwells. The rumor itself claimed that any Chartwells employee that talked to media types could and would be fired for doing so. What REALLY blew this Kindling staffer’s mind was that even the Chronicle and the Kindling was included as ‘media’! Is that paranoid or what? Kindling vowed to get to the heart of the matter… until we realized that doing so would dash forever our desperate hopes that someday, somehow, someone might give us free food. So we sacrificed our investigation on the altar of longing daydreams and carefully avoided asking anybody anything. Instead we stared at the menu and took pictures. And it was there that we learned all that we need to know. So if you go into the Cage one day soon and the giant sign above the counter is mysteriously absent… you’ll know why. An observer as careful and astute (or just as frequent) as the average Kindling staffer will not that one of the dirtiest secrets of this year’s Chartwells agenda is printed quite clearly on the board. Which is, s***’s expensive. Way expensive. This Kindling staffer was charged $4.10 for four scrawny, breaded chicken strips. Now, usually, such a price brings with it a delicious double side of French fries or fruit and jello for the health nuts, along with a large Styrofoam-encased soft drink, giver of life, sugar, and caffeine. But not anymore. The conspiracy has stripped it away leaving the hungry co-ed out $4.10 with nothing but 4 little strips of deep-fried meat. The math major we keep in the closet to do all our calculating told us that each strip cost us $1.025. For a CHICKEN STRIP. Meanwhile the BK down the road is having 59 and 69 cent specials on hamburgers and cheeseburgers every Tuesday. And if you’re too much of a health nut to care about deep fried goodness, get this: you’ll get charged as much as $3 a side for fruit. FRUIT! That stuff that grows on trees and rots within two days of picking it. Seriously, Chartwells, what the hell? What happened to our combos? What happened to making a meal of it for $1.59 (oops, can’t remember the exact number) more? Kaufman’s pleasantly distracted us all with its surprising array of edible vegetarian dishes (what happened to rice and beans 5 times a week) but then the daily stirfry at lunch was taken away. Why? There was always lots of people who wanted it; even after almost a full year of it there’d still be lines. The Boiler House staff makes Starbucks drinks with Starbucks coffee, and yet doesn’t get the advantage of Starbucks-size tips because they work… dun dun dun.. for Chartwell’s. What’s really going on here? Where the *bleep* is my combo? Why the heck won’t anybody slip me free food every now and again? I’m starving here!

Sidewalks Sweeping School!

by Faith Harrington-Taber

In a sudden and spastic response to the summer like weather, NCC’s sidewalks are reproducing at a sudden rate! Although the removal of the heavily used expansion to Kaufman’s main walk prompted hopes of a decrease in the concrete slabs of campus, the warm weather at the beginning of the term has decimated all hopes. The sidewalks are indeed repopulating, intent on completing their hostile take-over of NCC’s green areas by 2010. The newest conquests were carved into the lush and highly prized grass of Jefferson Plaza during 4th week. Back when it was Seager Lot, this noble and distinguished area of greenery could easily defend against the invasion by taking strength in its renowned reputation as a place of social interaction, string bikini tanning, and endless games of Ultimate Frisbee. But with its intrinsic nature permanently altered by its snotty and hoi polloi name change, the concrete conquerors were easily able to subdue all arguments with talk of the sleek, clean look of concrete, the respectability of squares, and a belief that worn paths through the grass are a mark of ill breeding. So thoroughly was the once independent land of Jefferson Plaza trounced by this argument that not one, but TWO sidewalks were able to mark new territory, its greatest defeat in many years. And why didn’t any nearby grassy patches come to its defense, you may ask? Because they were all disheartened by the failure of Kaufman grass to reclaim its triangles and caught off guard by the second replacement of perfectly serviceable sidewalks outside Seager. Up next? Once the highly suspect “re-landscaping” outside Goldspohn is finished, plans are in place to once again restrain the lovely former field in front of the library with yet another crisscross of dull and oppressive concrete squares. Vive la grass revolution!

American Girls Gone Wild!

by Alyssa Vincent

I’m pretty sure that I had the best childhood ever. Not to brag or anything, but my early years as an adorable tot were awesome. I’d wake up, eat Lucky Charms behind a self-made fort of cereal boxes, watch some Looney Tunes, and go on “adventures” with my dolls while my parents slaved away in the meth lab downstairs. Those were the days.

These imaginative adventures took up the greater part of my day. And which doll, you might ask, facilitated these adventures? Barbies? Hell no. I was all about the historically minded American Girl dolls. My girl of choice was Samantha Parkington, the prim, proper gal from the Victorian era. Back then, I just liked her because she had an awesome bed and a sweet velvet hat to top it all off.

Samantha and I had countless tea parties, outings to the grocery store with my mom, and overall good-natured fun. The other day though, as I was boring someone with my childhood stories, I began to wonder about how American Girl dolls set such pristine examples. I mean, they all have adversity in their stories (documented in chapter books written by the American Girl Corporation), but they never turn to drugs and sex and solve their problems! Living in an era of Lindsey “Hoe”han and Britney “I feel too sorry for you to insult you” Spears, it’s good to know that girls can avoid that harsh world for a few more years.

Or can they? I was cleaning out my closet the other day, and came across one of Samantha’s beloved books—“Samantha’s Surprise.” I didn’t remember reading this tale, so I cracked the cover and started reading.

Little did I know that the pages would be filled with erotic encounters between Samantha and her servant/special friend, Nellie. Disguised by innocent “tea parties” and Victorian S & M—scones and muffins—these X-rated meetings brought a whole new meaning to “discovering history.”

While my favorite childhood toy is now a sexual deviant, it certainly answers a lot of questions about those “sleepovers” her and Nellie always had…

Coming soon: Is the American Girl Store really just an elaborate sex den?

"Chad Comello: The Obituary"

Okay, so in English class today we had to make fake obituaries. I did one for myself but took some liberties with a few (read: all) facts. See if you can catch all of the movie references.

by Chad Comello

CHAD D. COMELLO
Chad David Comello, 99, an Academy Award-winning filmmaker and world
famous antiques collector, died Friday in a freak gasoline fight
accident.

Comello was born in Madison, Wis., and lived in New York City for
over 50 years. He wrote and directed over 20 films and opened a museum
for his collection of priceless antiques.

He was a member of the Writers Guild of America and League of
Ordinary Gentlemen. He also co-founded the Derek Zoolander Center for
Kids Who Can't Read Good and Want to Learn to Do Other Stuff Good Too.

Comello is survived by his wife, Strawberry; two sons, Biff Tannen
and Marty McFly of Hill Valley, Calif.; two daughters, Zuzu Bailey of
Bedford Falls and Bonnie Butler of Atlanta; two sisters, Lorraine
Baines and Clara Clayton of Hill Valley, Calif., a brother, William
Wallace of Scotland; and seven grandchildren, Adam, Benjamin, Caleb,
Daniel, Ephraim, Frank and Gideon.

A memorial service will be held at 10:04 p.m. Saturday at Twin Pines
Funeral Home. The remains will be cremated and scattered across the
space-time continuum.

The Comello family requests that gifts, preferably unmarked cash, be
sent to Strawberry Comello.

Junior Kindling editor bemoans loud freshmen

by Chad Comello

THIS JUST IN...

Junior Alyssa Vincent complained recently about the new freshmen students being so damn loud all the time: “Those kids with their loud rock music and immature chit-chat… when will we get some peace and quiet?!” Freshmen students were unavailable for comment.

Welcome, dear readers.

Welcome to the Kindling blog, web surfer!

The Kindling is a student-run humor magazine funded by North Central College in Naperville, Ill. North Central students submit articles that take a satirical look at campus happenings, politics, pop culture, and other topics worthy of derision. Articles are submitted by students for publication once per trimester.

This blog is designated for Kindling staffers to post humor articles that didn't get published in the Kindling or are worthy of a global audience. But let's face it: our stuff will beat most of the crap out there in those Internets.

If you want to submit an article for this blog, e-mail Chad at cdcomello@noctrl.edu and he will consider it in-between strokes of his full, wavy red hair.

!VIVA LA KINDLING!