Sidebar
HAPPY
TUESDAY
Very happy yes.
DISCLAIMER
Conor Hayes does not actually think that
Dan is (that much of) a butthole.
Apology
Humor is partly about pushing boundaries. But
sometimes, those boundaries are pushed too far. The Daily Urinal extends its
apologies to anyone offended by the swear words used in last issue. The staff
of the Daily Urinal aims to make the publication appealing to and appropriate
for all of Bishop’s. That goal was not met with yesterday’s issue, and for that
the DU is very sorry.
LYRICS
QUIZ OF THE DAY!!!
Hot summer nights, mid-July
When you and I were forever wild
When you and I were forever wild
The crazy days, the city lights
The way you’d play with me like a child.
HALLOWEEN
IS COMINGGGG
Wear a costume! Enter the ASBC costume
contest during enrichments! Go to the haunted house! Worry about college
applications! Have a nice time!
SUBMIT
ARTICLES!
Send appropriately worded articles to thedailyurinal@gmail.com. #swag
POETRY
OF THE DAY
Parsley
Is gharsely.
-Ogden Nash
ESSAY
PROMPT
What, to you, defines a curse word? Is it
the way it is used? The way its audience interprets it? The intentions of its
user? The history of the word? Something else entirely? Explain, ya buttpoop.
Articles
The DU is #1
By: Conor
Hayes (Only One N)
As many of you loyal DU readers
may have noticed, the ever-controversial DU spitfire Dan Forssman created yet
another scandal in yesterday’s issue by criticizing a student who is not, in
fact, enrolled in the Bishop’s School.
Connor Hayes, the student in
question, was accused of two crimes:
Crime the First: Having attended too few of Bishops’
many sporting events over the course of this school year.
Crime the Second:
Not having collected his fecal matter in a reasonably organized, fully
fused pile.
Both of these crimes are indeed very serious. The first, in fact, is one that I myself am
somewhat guilty of, and one that I intend to address. However, the more astute among you, dear
readers, will have noticed a flaw in Dan’s otherwise impeccable argument: a
student who does not, in point of fact, exist, will almost certainly have
difficulty doing much of anything, much less attending school events and/or
unifying his poop.
“I think it is very rude of someone to discriminate
against those with a disability like mine,” said the unfortunately fictitious
student in an interview yesterday. “Just
because someone doesn’t exist doesn’t mean that you can criticize him/her
whenever you want,” he continued, an irritated tone slowly creeping into his
utterly fictitious voice. “I may not
exist, but I do have feelings. And it is especially surprising for me to
hear such comments from someone who himself must deal with the equally serious
disability of being a bit of a butthole.”
The DU has certainly created its share of
controversy over the years. I think that part of its purpose at Bishop’s is to
be an outlet for the suppressed feelings caused by such a high pressure
environment, and as such its needs its share of belligerent rants, poorly
worded insults, and poop jokes (especially intelligent poop jokes). The Daily Urinal is an excellent receptacle
for the unwanted byproducts of the Bishop’s Experience. However, it is when these byproducts miss the
mark and hit the walls next to the Urinal that problems are caused. Mr. Beamer—or the cleaning staff, depending
on which urinal we are talking about—has to get involved. And even worse, this particular target of
opportunity does not even exist; the criticism just flies through space, never
hitting anything and dividing by every zero it sees. The DU has a positively sterling reputation
when it comes to two things: being published Daily, and being a wonderful
Urinal. When our DU material spills or
leaks, it is the good reputation of the Urinal that gets thoroughly peed
on. And this, I will not allow.
I Like Swearing
By: Hubert Short (Chronic Curser)
I never understood all the fuss
about cuss words. To me, a word is a word is a word, and that’s that. Of course,
my college girlfriend Martha was initially surprised to hear me talk. “Get used
to it, you ugly nasty—!” I’d tell her. And eventually, she did get used to it,
of course, but she never seemed to really appreciate my rich and colorful
vocabulary. We parted ways after graduation rolled around—she to a high-paying
job in petroleum engineering, I to a three-year stint in jail for aggravated
assault.
I’m married now, with a wife and
two great kids. I really like to push the envelope with names, so my kids are
named Buttpoop and Floozy. I wish I could have used stronger words, of course,
but my wife stopped me. “Herbert,” she said to me, “You can’t use the F-bomb as
a baby name. It simply isn’t done!”
“Oh, can it, you—.” I responded,
giving her a kiss. She’s a sweet woman, my wife Nina is, but sometimes she just
doesn’t undertstand me. You see, I dream of the day when I can call my kid a
fat piece of trash—or worse!—without fear of some prude telling me I “can’t
talk to kids that way” and “I’m ruining their self esteem.” Shows what they
know. Buttpoop has grown into a fine young gentleman, and Floozy is really
coming into her own.
There have, of course, been
times where my dirty mouth has gotten me in trouble. I’ve been kicked out of
more restaurants than I can count, my in-laws hate me, Buttpoop’s third grade
teacher still thinks I’m a psychopath, and my credit score is down the toilet.
That last one isn’t a direct result of my dirty mouth, but it sure does make me
gosh diddly-darn mad to think about. Almost cussing mad, in fact! Yes right
now, I could just let out a long stream of rude, crude, mean, obscene, terrible
words—
Hold on, my wife is calling me.
I think I’ve got to fix that dad-blamed television. That durned contraption
sure can be a piece of—
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