Volume 9, Issue 1

is this for college students?

Turning Welch's Into Wine In 48 Hours

a tribute to our best writer of all time

for you, Samuel Clemens, you rock.

Awesome Lightshow

It's Friday! One week to go til the first Ramdiculous Page of the year!

The trash is tired.

Tired of eating all the wasted ram pages.

Risk management

Friends, students, Ramdiculous Goons of the world...hear me now.

I attended an at-risk session on August 29th. The guest speaker was a gentleman named Rick Barnes, and he covered the various topics of acceptable behavior and organizational leadership, and the ways that collegiate organizations could be held liable and accountable for destructive incidents. (And he peppered it with humor, making his speech pretty darn effective. But I digress.)

Ramdiculous, as a student organization, participates in and holds various events, where we celebrate our staff, our awesome newspaper, and our awesomeness in general. However, as president of Ramdiculous, I find myself in the position of telling you that Ramdiculous could be held liable by any breach of common sense (i.e. drinking to excess with destructiveness as a result, harming an individual or individuals, assult, destruction of property, et cetera).

For example, Barnes provided a story about two organizational members who drank to excess at a organizational party, then drunk-drove and had an accident resulting in bodily harm to an older couple. The organization was sued, the organization's top officers were sued, and the organization's voting members were sued. The only two members who were NOT sued were the two that voted "No" to holding the party. The rest of the club faces multi-million dollar payouts to the estate of the injured couple.

So if you do something bad in the official name of the organization (i.e. you acted like a normal rational person wouldn't and something monumentally BAD came of it), then you will be summarily dismissed from our ranks. Chairman Seth, myself, and the organization could also be held accountable, and we don't want that to happen. Ramdiculous means too much to us to have its name tarnished.

FYI, dear Goons.

Thank you, and good night from SA.

Parking, ASU's Future

A narrative by Clinton Bippert

Beep! Beep! Beep! The alarm clock next to Mark’s bed blared its wake up call. The sleepy resident smashed his fist down onto the noisy machine causing it to instantly cease. Mark opened his sleepy eyes to read the time: 5:00…AM. With a groan, the first year student rolled out of bed. It was Mark’s second week at Angelo State Univeristy and he didn’t want to be late for class. Sliding out of his boxers, the freshmen dressed quickly, donning a pair of running shorts and a thin shirt in the near blackness. There was no point turning on the lights. It would only blind him on his trip to school.

Walking out of his dorm room, he could see his roommate, Brandon, shirtless and eating a small breakfast. Mark gave a sleepy wave before grabbing a muffin off the stack on the table. Placing it between his teeth, the freshmen walked to his book bag and began to carefully select the school supplies he might need today. While chomping on the stale muffin, Mark placed one pen, one pencil, five sheets of paper, and his History book inside his small backpack for it was Thursday. He hated Tuesdays and Thursdays; his history teacher always required him to bring their book to class. By the time he had finished packing, Mark had consumed the small muffin. He took a swig of juice from the carton on the table next to Brandon before replacing it in their small refrigerator provided by the university.

“I guess we better head off,” Mark commented to Brandon who gave a grunt as a reply. Brandon wasn’t much of a morning person. Retrieving his backpack, Mark pulled the shoulder straps tight before connecting the numerous customized straps that kept the pack secured across his back. Brandon had a different method for carrying his school supplies He slipped into an especially tight shirt with a small pack built onto the back. Man, I have to get me one of those. Mark thought as they made their way to the door, locking it behind them.

Exiting their dormitory, ironically named Bi-Centennial (yet, it stood twenty miles from the spot of the old dormitory), the two roommates joined the long lines of students that were already beginning their morning journey. It would be over two hours before Mark and Brandon would see their classrooms. They started their run relatively slow (a mere eight minutes per mile pace) allowing time for their tired muscles to awaken. The two roommates joined up with a small group of sophomores running together in front of them to add some company for their twenty mile journey. They ran past several other school dorms as their running group moved with the throng of students traveling towards their distant classrooms.

The first milestone they passed was the tram stop at two miles into their run. There was never any hope of getting a seat on it. The line was always stretched impossibly long. People would begin lining up at noon the previous day to get a seat. Tents, chairs, ice chests filled with food, they were essential tools in order to ensure a place on the tram. Mark had even seen a barbeque pit in the line on his first day.

Directly after the tram station was the large parking lot reserved for students with the “B” parking permit. The students that lived in the dorms had nicknamed them “Brothers” as they shared the most of the run with them. The “B” parking lot was a square mile of asphalt. Yet somehow, there was never an empty spot in sight by the time Mark and Brandon passed by it. After the large parking lot, they ran past four green fields all nearly identical except for the large wooden signs that stated their names. Mark read their names as they passed each one: Plaza de el Otoño (Fall), Plaza de el Invierno (Winter), Plaza de la Primavera (Spring), and Plaza de el Verano (Summer). They spanned two miles each along the road side. After passing the massive fields, the group began to pick up their pace (now running at seven minutes per mile).

Their second milestone came at eleven miles into their run in the form of the “D” parking lot. It stretched for two miles down the road. However, the lot rarely had more than three cars in the black square spaced sporadically throughout. The spots were auctioned off to the highest bidder at the beginning of every school year. Only people who were willing to spend several thousands of dollars had a chance of getting a spot. However, no one dared park within its bonds. Several packs of toll trucks, acting like wolves searching for their prey, continually circled the parking lot. Today, a large crowd was gathering near the edge of the fence surrounding it. Mark and the others slowed in curiosity. Apparently, a car had parked in the wrong spot. Several tow trucks had surrounded the small white car as the driver stood frantically off to the side, unable to do anything but watch. Their tow cables were attached anywhere their hooks would attach: axles, bumpers, door handles, even through the front windshield. Suddenly, there was a roar as the numerous tow trucks started to pull against the car. The screeching sound of metal separating could be heard as the car was literally torn to pieces. The ruthless truck drivers hauled the remaining pieces of the wrecked car away to their impound lot, leaving a trail of small auto parts behind them for the frantic driver to follow. With little else to do, the masses soon continued their twenty mile run.

They passed another group of fields. These were only a mile long with their names being Plaza de Carneros (Rams), Plaza de Ovejas (Rambelles), Plaza de Rallo (first ASU president to commission a plaza), and Plaza de la Plaza (Field). Afterwards, the group passed their third milestone: “A” parking lot. It was only three miles from campus. The parking lot, like the “D” parking lot, was two miles long. It was always only a quarter full. More packs of tow trucks patrolled the lot, searching for any vehicle not displaying the massive “A” that nearly covered the entire back window of the vehicles.

Finally, the group slowed to a walk, huffing and puffing loudly as they reached a small group of building containing the administration. Mark leaned forward, his hands on his knees, as sweat dripped profusely off of his hair and chin. Suddenly, a whoosh of air and the blur of blue and gold flew past Mark causing him to fall backwards in surprise. The same event happened every morning around this time, but this was the first time Mark had been so close to it.

For you see, the twenty mile long campus had led to some unexpected payoff. Thanks to the extraordinary long distance, Angelo State’s athletic success had exploded. They were currently national ranked in the top ten every sport and defending champions in both men’s and women’s track and field, cross country, soccer, and basketball. The sudden blur had been freshmen and sophomore athletes passing by on their way to the Junell Multiplex that lay on the other side of campus.

“You okay there?” Brandon asked, offering Mark a hand.

“Yeah, almost got creamed by the athletes,” the fallen freshman replied as he took his friend’s hand. “Let’s just get to class.”

They both followed the crowd as they headed into the large bathroom complex for a quick shower that had been installed at the edge of Plaza de Centennial (the old dormitory had been scraped five years after opening to make the plaza), ready for the start of another day at Angelo State University.

Rainy Ramdiculous shirt day

More game day Ramdiculous Fun

Old shirt on an old man.

Ramdiculous shirt - Game Day

The Blues Brothers at ASU

Premiere Party Fall 2010

September 4 · 7:30pm - ???

Texan Hall Community Room

Featuring The Blues Brothers

For more information check out the Screeners on Facebook