Clinch Valley High

Upon learning that the university has the second highest crime rate among state schools, Poodah organized a task force to see if we can't add just a touch more southern charm to the university. Ain't no better place to start a- lookin' than them genteel folk at Clinch Valley.

• Go ahead, abolish kegs ... install stills!
• Tractors instead of SUVs
• Bring in Special Security Consultant Roscoe P. Coltrane
• Cockfights ... the other kind
• Goats!
• No blue phones -- hollerin' sticks
• Change single-sanction to good ol' lynching
• NASCAR in the Mad Bowl
• Avoid guys who say "You shore do got a purty mouth."
• Make sure Boo Radley's got your back

Theatre of the Absurd

Ox Scapula: A Tragedy in Three Acts

[Scene: U.Va. satellite grounds at Qatar, immediately following a sandstorm. Enter two STUDENTS. Dress is neo-colonial in gold lamé.]

STUDENT A: Man, I can't believe we have to pay out-of-state tuition!
STUDENT B: What a piece of work is man. How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty. In form and moving, how express and admirable. In action, how like an angel. In apprehension, how like a god. The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals.

[RICK JAMES descends from the heavens in a replica of DaVinci's flying machine. He approaches downstage and proceeds to drool on STUDENT B's ankle.]

STUDENT B: Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, / Which mannerly devotion shows in this.

[STUDENT B suddenly transforms into a copy of Faulkner's As I Lay Dying.]

STUDENT A: Man that shit is not fair!

Fin

Poodah Haiku

Burnt Starbucks Coffee
I paid eight bucks for this shit
Waiting for Bodo's

For Shame

Much in the manner of ants marching back to a trampled anthill, a certain sorority, Poodah has learned, is recolonizing. Due to the arbitrary nature of recolonization, Poodah would like to express Poodah's disgust in a system so rooted in appearances. Poodah yearns for the day when songs of this nature may be eliminated from society.

(sung to the tune of the theme from The Jeffersons)

We're removin' old chicks,
From Chancellor Street,
Gotta make way for the elite.
Movin' back in,
To Chancellor Street,
'Cause we got that ugly thing beat.

Please don't fuck in the kitchen,
Pull out and try not to spill.
Finally scored a new charter,
'Cause we all scored at Carr's Hill.

Now we're up in the big leagues,
Gettin' our turn at bat.
If you were a deb,
Get in line baby,
'Cause we got a date at the frats.

Well, we're movin' back in,
To the greek side,
To a deluxe srathouse for you and I.
Movin' back in,
To the greek side,
'Cause we finally got to recolonize.

Poodah Confidential

To all of the Laura-Ashley-sundressed-co-eds who laughed at the idiot who fell off the bus at Beta Bridge: Poodah has your names, addresses, and next-of-kin.