Jarvis JargOnline 1999 - 2000: Humour

Futuristic Utopias R Us
Jeff Cooper

Ask Sandy

Rachel Beattie

Jason's Mathematical Question and Answer Period
The Brothers Kieffer

The Dating Game
Teddy Wakim

Futuristic Utopias R Us

Jeff Cooper

As the first quarter of the year 2000 comes to a close, I just have one thing to say: I want my personal spaceship and I want it now! It seemed to me that the whole point of a new millennium, which for all intents and purposes started two and a half months ago, was so that we would be instantly propelled into an age of technological wonderment filled with robot squeegee kids and flying cars for everyone. Failing that, a global Armageddon might have been nice, ushered in by the four horsemen of the apocalypse or some other cheerful blokes. All I really hoped for was something out of the ordinary, something that made the years up to now seem worthwhile.

However, we find ourselves trudging to school as before, fighting our way through hordes of rabid subway-goers to gain the education and instruction we all so desperately crave. Teachers still use horribly out-dated chalk, an antiquated form of technology that predates even Jarvis Collegiate itself. We're still expected to write on paper, a medium of communication made with, of all things, dead vegetation. All part of a day's work at the anachronism we lovingly call "J.C.I." I'd say the people responsible for this debacle have a lot of explaining to do. It's as if we hadn't even left the 1900s!

Then there's the issue of the name of this decade. This topic is hardly new, but it has yet to be decided. We had the "eighties" and the "nineties" but we can hardly say the "zeroes" or the "os"(pronounced oze), can we? That's why I'm proposing that we now proclaim ourselves to be living in the decade of Bob. Yes, that sounds pretty lame too, but at least it's intentionally lame, which shows that we have the collective IQ of a lobotomized chipmunk and we like it that way, dammit!

Anyway, I'm sure you can all tell that I'm feeling pretty gosh darned disappointed right now, but not to worry- 2100 AD will be a lot more fun. In fact, I had a dream which told me all I need to know about life 100 years from now. And seeing as dreams, like politicians and TV commercials, never lie, I thought I'd give you all a sneak preview of things to come.

Toronto will have become the Soup Capital of the World, exporting vichyssoise and minestrone around the globe. People will speak admiringly of the "Toronto gazpacho chefs" and go on pilgrimages to the corner of Yonge and Queenwhere the Eaton Centre will have been destroyed in the Great Soup Riots of 2053.

Technologically, the year 2100 will contain a myriad of electronic marvels and gizmos designed to make life a bundle of joy. Computers will be wired directly into our brains, removing the need to think for ourselves for evermore. At birth, we will each be adopted by a corporate family, on whose products we will be dependent on for our very survival, thus ensuring a healthy economy spurred by mass purchasing. A member of the Nike clan, for example, would suffer a fatal heart attack should he or she so much as try on a pair of Reeboks, and don't even think about feeding Coke to a Pepsi kid.

These corporate Beelzebuddies will bring us benefit on top of benefit, it seems. No longer will we have to worry about health care problems, the environment, or the homeless. People will be granted their own little cubicle to live in, approximately the same size as an extra-large box of facial tissues, so nobody will be without a home. As for health care problems, we simply won't care about our health problems, having long since learned that money is the only thing that matters in this world of ours. Finally, we'll have the Enviro-3d™ simulators, which will capture all the charm and beauty of the outside world without the bugs and occasionally strange smells.

The future will be a wonderful world indeed, friends. All we have to do is sit back and wait. The year 2000 may have been somewhat disappointing so far, but that doesn't mean that life is just one big disappointment after another, does it? Does it?

Ask Sandy

Rachel Beattie

You may be asking yourself, what does this Sandy chick think makes her so qualified to answer my questions about love, relationships, self-esteem and guys? Well, what can I say. I'm twenty-six, have been married and divorced six times, have struggled with anorexia, bulimia and one nasty VD. I ran away from home when I was twelve, was a prostitute for two years, a drug dealer for three and was president of the New Kids On The Block fan club. I have seen and done everything, so when I give you a piece of advice, just trust me.

Q: I am totally jonesing for this guy in my English class but he fails to acknowledge my existence. How can I get him to notice me? 

A: Unfortunately, there is no real "love potion number nine" and no sure fire advice I can give you. All I can do is tell you what has worked for me in the past, so here it goes.

Never talk to this guy. You'll come off as eager, easy and interested. Instead, every time he walks into the room, turn your head, giggle, and bounce up and down in your seat while waving your hands in the air in front of your face because you know how much you blush in his presence. If you are with a group of friends, turn towards them and jump up and down while whispering his name loudly and pointing in his direction.

If your boy doesn't pick up on your signals then forget him because he's probably too dense for you anyway.

Q: Help! I'm just over five feet tall and weigh 216 pounds. I can never find clothes my size. What should I do? 

A: In cases like yours I used to recommend dieting. I had always found the binge and purge diet to be the most effective because it required so little exercise and you could always eat whatever you wanted. However, one enlightened reader pointed out that the sound of retching in the washroom after dinner at your boyfriend's place had a tendency to ruin the mood.

Now, I recommend going out and buying a whole new, skimpy wardrobe. Not only will this motivate you to shed those extra pounds but as you squeeze into them every morning, they will actually reshape your bod to that size two you've always wanted to wear. How does it work, you may ask? Well, without getting too technical (because we all know thinking too hard gives you wrinkles), it works kind of like control top pantyhose. Go figure.

Q: My dad caught me joy riding in his brand new BMW Z3. He grounded me for three days and cut off my allowance. This totally sucks. Do you think this is fair? 

A: You stole the BMW, went joy riding, got caught by your dad and then ask me if I think that he's being unfair?! Of course it's fair! What were you thinking? Take the Jag next time. They accelerate faster.

Q: I'm 15 years old and pregnant. I don't know which one of my boyfriends did it. My best friend says that if I double my cocaine usage I will miscarry. Can you tell me if this is true or just a waste of money? 

A: You've got a serious problem but it's good to know that you have such a stable support system within your circle of friends. I don't know of any medical research to back up your friend's theory but I am a very busy person and didn't have the time or care enough to really check,

Since you asked me though, I think you should go through with the pregnancy. The love a child can give you is truly a blessing and something worth cherishing. Having a baby is also a great excuse to buy a new wardrobe, seeing as you will be packing on the pounds within the next nine months. A baby is also a great excuse to throw a baby shower, especially when the 'rents are away!

Q: Could you please publish my story on how I met my present boyfriend of two weeks and three days? 

A: No. Who do you think I am, Ann Landers?

Q: My school has five floors and a large student body. In between classes, the stairways are often crowded and I am always late for class. Do you think installing fire poles would help the problem? 

A: The addition of fire poles is a great solution. Not only is it fun but it will give students something to do during their spares. Now, people may say that fire poles are dangerous and that people can really get hurt. I wouldn't worry about this argument too much because people will eventually get the hang of it. Besides, until they do, the pile of bodies at the bottom will give the experts a softer landing.

Q: My proposal for a dwarf tossing club at school was rejected by the student council. I suggest that we protest by throwing the nearest short person into the whipping blades of the air ambulance that lands on our track. Will you support me in this action? 

A: I get a feeling of personal satisfaction from supporting a good cause. By the way, cutting the letters for your question out of a magazine was a nice touch.

I know what you're all asking yourselves. What has Sandy been up to these last few months? Well, to make a long story short, after a brief stay in the Betty Ford clinic, I divorced my seventh husband. I think he just couldn't deal with step eight of my twelve-step program. He says it's the fact that I was sleeping with his brother for the first two weeks of our three week long marriage. After the divorce, I went on the game show "Who wants to be a millionaire," but lost for punching Regis Philbin when he asked me if that was my "final answer." As a result, I have to keep answering your questions, so here goes.

Q: I recently transferred to a new school. Everyone who goes there is tall, blonde, and listens to Britney Spears. They have cheerleaders and a winning football team. They have some bizarre thing called "school spirit" which causes them to dress in the school colours and scream "Go Tigers" every chance they get. What should I do? 

A: Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Q: I am a strict vegetarian who believes that killing animals for food is morally wrong. In my school cafeteria they have, like, no vegetarian meals and it's totally bumming me out. I don't like to complain but having to bring my lunch to school is so eighties and I feel like a major square. I don't know what to do. 

A: The answer is obvious if you just use your head. Think about it. In a school cafeteria, what food is guaranteed not to have meat in it? The meatloaf. And if there is any meat, you can be sure that it died of natural causes, so there's nothing to feel guilty about.

Q: I am 16 years old and curfew is 6:00 p.m. My parents think that I am completely irresponsible just because I got my boyfriend's name tattooed on my butt. I have tried to convince them that I am responsible and deserve to stay out as late as I want, like all my friends, but they never say yes. What should I say to them? 

A: By the age of 16 I'm surprised you haven't figured out how to sneak out of your house yet. What is wrong with you? Haven't you been watching Dawson's Creek? How do you think Joey sneaks up into Dawson's creek? Do you think she is beamed up there by space aliens? No. She uses a ladder which is always conveniently positioned by the window. On a completely different topic, I'd really like to know how your parents found out about the tattoo on your butt.

Q: I have recently been craving the taste of human flesh. Is there something wrong with me? 

A: Well duh.

Q: I am your biggest fan. I read your column on a regular basis. I am the president of the Ask Sandy fan club, of which I am the only member. I sleep outside your house every night. You are perfect in every way. My dog says it's time that I asked you out on a date. So, what do you say to dinner and a movie? Please keep in mind that I am mentally unstable and don't take my medication. 

A: You great big freak of nature leave me alone. Please stop sending me naked pictures of yourself. It's very disturbing.

Q: I am a young journalist who has a lot to say about life and hope to become an advice columnist, like yourself. I was hoping you could give me some pointers on how to get published. 

A: It is always nice to see someone who still has big hopes and dreams. The best part of being an advice columnist is that you get to read dozens of letters from people who are experiencing some really big problems in their lives. It is important to remain sensitive to their needs. They are often confused, desperate, and very stupid people. They need help. Many of them actually take my advice seriously. These people are so disillusioned that they believe that I might actually care about their pathetic lives and that I'm not just in this for the money.

Jason's Mathematical Question and Answer Period

The Brothers Kieffer

Q: How many non-gluttonous people can you feed with one cow?

A: 85

Q: How many Americans can you feed with one cow?

A: 3

Conclusion: Don't piss Americans off, they have guns (discovered through personal experience).

Q: How many boys' bathrooms are there in Jarvis?

A: 4

Q: How many clean boys' bathrooms are there that don't cause a gag reaction from inhaling the air.

A: 0

Conclusion: If you don't want some type of growth forming on your neck when you're older, don't go in the bathroom.

Q: On average, how many students are in a class?

A: 32

Q: What fraction of the student in the class do not know what school they attend?
A: 31/32 (The one exception was a man off the street who claimed to be a student attending Jarvis.)

Conclusion: Do not speak to strange men you see in your class.

Q: How long can a pizza stay fresh and edible in a refrigerator?

A: 2 weeks

Q: How long does the cafeteria claim its pizza stays fresh and edible while it sits on a radiator behind the refrigerator?

A: 10 months

Conclusion: To avoid food poisoning, do not eat any foods that are growing more than one type of fungus.

Q: On average, how many times will someone get a concussion in their life?
A: 1

Q: On average, how many times will a Jarvis Bulldog get a concussion involving a brick or cement wall in one week?

A: 4

Conclusion: To avoid concussions you must be aware that your skull is not invincible against substances such as brick or steel. (You are not Superman.)

Q: Out of four clowns, how many are funny?

A:2

Q: Out of the same four clowns, how many are gun-wielding psychopaths who want to eat your children?

A: 4

Conclusion: Stay away from clowns, they are crazy.

The Dating Game

Teddy Wakim

In the game of life there are many challenges that
one must face, for instance getting out of bed, feeding and
dressing, punctuality at the bus stop, adherence to deadlines and
expectations of schoolwork, fulfillment of higher social status,
purchasing of contraband, and so on. However, the most important
obstacle of all is the attraction of a member of the opposite sex.
Yes, some people set their sights on sensible, noble goalsduring
their high school careers, such as excellent grades, outstanding
athletic and extra-curricular achievement, and ultimately
acceptance into the university of their choice. Myself, on the
other hand, I prefer to seek out the more tangible fruits that
secondary school has to offer: this being, of course, women.

 Unfortunately, finding a woman to call your girlfriend can be a
somewhat formidable task. First, an individual, in this case a
male, must set his eyes upon a woman of his physical partiality
and/or intellectual righteousness. Secondly, the individual needs
to muster up the inner strength to ask the potential girlfriend if
she would mind spending time somewhere to become familiarized with
the proposing party. (Some people have a more forward
andto-the-point approach to this second step; the information
contained herein is only based on conventional practice and
hearsay.) Lastly, if the might-be girlfriend agrees to the date and
it, followed by several others, is a success, then the relationship
is formed.

 In order to provide you with a more hands-on, practical example of
the quest for a partner, I decided to conduct a case study. I asked
three girls out on a date to observe and record the process of
courtship. All a strapping young man needs to find a date is
personal allure, good looks, health, a means of transport, a steady
cash flow, and a bright future ahead of him. In my case, I am
nineteen years old, standing five feet ten inches, and weighing one
hundred and ninety six point eight pounds. I have a strict diet of
Captain Crunch, chicken wings, pizza, and beer. My bad habits
consist of biting my fingernails, unpredictable flatulence, and
smoking a tad over a pack a day. I have the luxury of a car, and
chicks really dig cars. I drive my mother's 1989 Chevrolet
Lumina minivan. It has heating and AM/FM radio. The exhaust
manifold is broken so that if you are in the car while it is
running with all of the windows rolled up for more than five
minutes, you will pass out. A time period of more than ten minutes
in duration could prove fatal. Other than this minor imperfection,
the car is like new. As for money, the last job I held was the
position of a janitor at the Royal Winter Fair three years ago. I
am dependent on the couple that brought me into this world. With
regards to the future, I see an exorbitant amount of money coming
my way and myself being happier than a pig basking in its own fecal
matter.

 Trying to find three female Jarvis students willing to participate
in my study was a humbling experience. When I asked a couple of
girls if they wanted to go out on a date with me they burst out
laughing and retreated to the washroom. Another group of girls
dispersed from me like a flock of pigeons fleeing a street sweeper
vehicle. Facing initial rejection, I decided to solicit larger
groups of women in hopes of increasing my odds of scoring. The
volleyball team laughed, the basketball team rendered me a chump,
the choir timidly chuckled, and one of the girls in the dance
company called me a pervert.After my ego underwent a ruthless
bashing, I opted to ask out girls who looked like they were really
bored. One girl said her present lover would castrate me she spent
time with another guy. One girl told me to pleasure myself
alongside a men's sophisticate, and another girl threatened to
unleash her posse on me.

On my third day of propositioning, I struck gold. Her
name was Alice, she was appealing to my senses and wanted to go on
a date with me, on the condition that I pay. At this stage in the
game, money was not a concern, so we agreed on a time and date.

 When the dawn of my first date arrived, I prepared hastily. I took
a warm shower (using my mother's lufa bar in the event that
Alice and I were to engage in a post-date full body massage),
shaved my poor excuse for a beard, and got dressed in my favourite
lucky clothes.

 For dinner I had chose a remote little Italian diner just off St.
Clair. When we arrived it was brought to my attention that the
restaurant was non-smoking. I argued that the advertisement stated
there was smoking available, and our waiter Gianni informed me that
the ad I had read was obsolete. I then threatened to leave and
Gianni encouraged me to do so, but to my dismay Alice liked the
place and had to meet her curfew of 10:30. Theremainder of the
evening passed by relatively smoothly, and after discovering that
Alice was a prude, the dinner came to an end.

 On our walk to the car, I decided to give Alice the car door test
that I saw in a movie once. The test entails unlocking and opening
the woman's door for her. Then the man walks around the car to
the driver side door, where he fumbles with the keys trying to
unlock his door. If the woman does not put forth effort to help
before the man unlocks and opens the door himself, she has failed
the test. In the movie the girl opens the door for the boy and they
end up getting married and are happy for life. But in the instance
of Alice and myself, when I opened the door for her she seated
herself and pulled down the sun visor to look at herself in the
mirror. Feeling discarded, I opened my door and started the car for
the trip home.

 The following school day my search for a second date commenced,
and as expected I faced a number of rejections, some sensitive and
others belittling. Nonetheless, perseverance paid off when I met
Kara. She accepted my offer for a date on the premise that I would
buy the food and pay her an additional twenty dollars. I hesitated
to agree to her terms at first because it seemed as though I was
indulging in an act of prostitution. But after considering my
options I agreed to her ultimatum.

 Seeing as how I was twenty dollars in the hole before I even made
a reservation, I chose to try something a little more unorthodox. I
picked Kara up at her house and drove to the Burger King at Jane
and Finch. She was surprised and said that she thought we were
going to an upper-class diner. I told her that if fast food dining
is good enough for the President then it was good enough for us.
Disappointed, Kara ordered a double cheeseburger combo while I had
a Jr. Whopper with the works. The food hit the spot and the price
was right. When we finished our meals I was in the mood to catch a
flick, but Kara was uninterested so I ended up driving her home. As
I pulled into her driveway and parked the car a moment of silence
arose. I took advantage of it to try and lean in on Kara and give
her a big wet one, but right when our lips were a foot apart she
groaned and complained of cramps. She then thanked me and exited
the car for her house. I reassured myself that I was not a loser
with the saying, "nothing ventured, nothing gained."

 Seeing as how the evenings to present were essentially a waste of
time and money, I decided to make my own dream date with an evening
planned to my liking. For starters, I would need to find a woman
who was attractive, easy to please, and compatible with my
lifestyle. So I ventured down Yonge street to an adult sex shop.
The clerk was extremely knowledgeable in his field, and after
hearing what I was looking for, he directed me to the inflatable
mannequin aisle. Within seconds, I found the woman I was looking
for. She was a brunette, six feet tall, lightweight, with
hyper-extensive limbs. After inspecting the warranty, I paid out at
the cash register. I left the store with gleam and glitter in my
face, and started to plan our first date together.

 First we would eat at my place, then go dancing at one of the
city's hottest night clubs, followed by a romantic walk along
the harbour front. My newfound synthetic woman was bringing such a
tranquility to my life that I decided to name her Joy. I outfitted
Joy in the dress my mother used to wear. (Makeup and fragrance were
included in the price of purchase.) With Joy looking sassy, I
prepared my favorite pasta dish. The best thing of all was that Joy
didn't need food, so I ate it all myself. When I finished the
dishes, Joy and I went out for a night on the town.

 To my surprise, every nightclub we tried to get into refused us
entry, with one exception. The bouncer at Whiskey Saigon, a
premiere dance facility, slipped us in the back door for a
five-dollar bill. Once we were in Joy and I wasted no time and took
to the dance floor. We ripped it up! With Joy's flexibility I
had her doing cartwheels, back flips, and even the splits. A lot of
people were giving me confused looks, no doubt a result of jealousy
considering Joy's hourglass figure and perfect posture. When I
had enough of the club scene I decided to skip the romantic walk
and go home for another kind of romance. In the end, the night was
an utter success and my case study was complete. As you can see the
dating process is a complicated, often cumbersome one. Enjoying a
pleasant evening out with a member of the opposite sex can be a
warming event; it can also be a cold, disconcerting battle. I
sincerely hope you have gained further insight and understanding
into the matter of the dating game. I wish you prosperity on your
future quests. As for me, I have Joy in my life.