Clawed penises: a guppy original
By Sydney Marchand
I recently wrote about my infatuation with an aquarium that I brought into my home. Well, I added a bunch of guppies to the tank, and boy-oh-boy, they are popping out babies like crazy.
Guppies are known for their quick gestation periods: between 25 and 35 days depending on the condition of the tank, and in my experience, are never not pregnant as a guppy. You can tell from their obvious bloated look, but also by a darkened spot near the base of their stomach. And although female guppies are not the most beautiful fish in the sea, they sure do get a lot of action.
Apparently, size does matter. The larger the male’s gonopodium (a fancy name for guppy penis), the more likely it is to have successful fertilization — even if the female isn’t completely into it. Yes, those sneaky little bastards use their long dicks to their advantage and inseminate females without them even knowing. What’s worse? Their penises have a claw on the end that attaches itself to the female so she can’t swim away. Yes, a claw.
I wish I could tell you that the bright side of this story is that now I have a bunch of adorable little baby fish, but no. The big fish like to eat them.
Shout-out to garage sales
By Andrea Sadowski
It’s garage sale season, people. Time to drag all your unwanted CDs, patio furniture, random assortment of dishes, and old stuffed animals into your driveway for all your neighbors to enjoy snooping through. I love a good garage sale. Personally, I don’t think there is any better way to spend a Saturday morning than haggling with strangers over how much you’ll pay them for their old board games and candle holders. You can learn so much about a person based around what they sell at their garage sale — a goldfish bowl that signifies the person must’ve had a scaly friend at one point, the collection of fairy lights in Mason jars wrapped in burlap that allows you to pinpoint the era that couple must’ve gotten married in, and fishing gear that husband had to sell due to not having enough leisure time now that he has three kids in tow. This is your sign to not pass up a garage sale next time you drive past one; you never know what useless treasures you may find that you’ll enjoy for a moment and then eventually sell at your own garage sale one day.
Sacrificing sucks — that’s the point
By Brad Duncan
I hate paper straws — and so do you! Don’t give me all that B.S. about the turtles and how you feel so much better about paper. There’s a difference between recognizing that something is a necessary net-positive, and viscerally enjoying the experience. Getting your driver’s license is great, but driver’s tests suck. Nobody goes back for a second vasectomy just for the thrill. Paper straws stick to your lips, get soggy and wilt, and are generally unpleasant. Nobody has ever tried to stir a beverage with a limp straw and thought, I prefer this — and that’s okay. We need to break with this notion that addressing our issues can all be done painlessly and without inconveniencing, or even hurting people. Addressing climate change and pollution will mean higher gas prices and shitty paper straws until we figure out something better. Kibble: those dry pellets we all associate with pet food became the norm during WWII because all the metal for canned goods was rerouted to the war effort. No new cars for you in 1943… they weren’t making them. Now we demand that leaders tackle systemic issues, but vote them out because the solution involves us having to sacrifice something. Paper straws are awful, but suck it up — it’s going to get a lot worse. It actually has to.
Mosey the supermodel
By Teryn Midzain
Every day, my cat Mosey sits on the windowsill overlooking a lane that runs along the back of my townhouse, and it seems that she has inspired a small fan club of the morning and afternoon walkers that pass by.
I hear the all-too-cheerful “hellos” that the walkers give to Mosey in hopes of getting a glance of the majestic calico. One mother often tells her children, “Oh, wave to the cat, she’s happy to see you,” as Mosey sits comfortably — either as a loaf or perked up tall, showing off her finely groomed coat. She doesn’t ask for the attention and devotion that these people give her; she simply expects it. Mosey knows how beautiful she is, and like any runway model, she knows exactly how to flaunt her body, capturing people’s attention with her pale green eyes, stretching herself so all her lean curves are shown. This is just what Mosey needs: more enthusiastic cat people boosting her already vain ego.
I used to think of what my reputation would be around my new neighbourhood. I had big ambitions — the guy with the cool car, the house that threw sick parties, the neighbourhood slut, a nice neighbour. Unfortunately, none of these are what I am known as; instead, I have to accept being “the neighbour with the most gorgeous calico.”
Sydney is a BA English major, creative writing student, who has been a content contributor for The Cascade and is now the Opinion editor. In 7th grade, she won $100 in a writing contest but hasn’t made an earning from writing since. In the meantime, she is hoping that her half-written novels will write themselves, be published, and help pay the bills.
Andrea Sadowski is working towards her BA in Global Development Studies, with a minor in anthropology and Mennonite studies. When she's not sitting in front of her computer, Andrea enjoys climbing mountains, sleeping outside, cooking delicious plant-based food, talking to animals, and dismantling the patriarchy.
Long ago, when DeLoreans roamed the earth, Brad was born. In accordance with the times, he was raised in the wild every afternoon and weekend until dusk, never becoming so feral that he neglected to rewind his VHS rentals. His historical focus has assured him that civilization peaked with The Simpsons in the mid 90s. When not disappointing his parents, Brad spends his time with his dogs, regretting he didn’t learn typing in high school.
Teryn Midzain is an English Major with ambitious goals to write movies and a full-time nerd, whose personality and eccentrics run on high-octane like the cars he loves. More importantly, Teryn loves sports [Formula One], and doesn’t care who knows. When not creating and running deadly schemes in his D&D sessions, Teryn tries to reach the core of what makes the romantic and dramatic World of Sports, the characters and people that make the events so spectacular.
