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Serving the Universiiy of Texas at San Antonio Community
Volume 1, No. 13
March 12, 1991
MIDTERM MADNESS
l^ecture hall UTSA, 8 a.m.
This is iL Your life is about to end. Fear runs through your body as Professor Ptxkenburger hands out the written portion of the Midtemi for Artificial Meat ByproducU 1013, A.K.A., die Midtenn firom hell: a4(X) question multiple choice true/false test, a 12,000 word minimum essay question, and the portion you already fltinked, the take home Spam-lab.
Pank; overwhelms you as you diink, -I WISH I HAD STUDIED!" Total mental collapse occurs as you fall into a trance that not only puts the stupidest kx)k on your face, but causes you to involimtarily drool and babble. You diink back and painfully recall the events that led you to this dilemma.
The semester started out badly. Winter break ended much too quickly. You were in no condititm to start thinking again so soon after having so mtich fun.
Being a seasoned college student, you naturally missed the first week of class and went out every night. You knew that Professor Poikenberger would just take roll, talk about himself and give the "Welcome to . . ." lecture, a boring speech you have heard hundreds of times before.
However, what you didn't count on occurred. Dr. Hellmutt Von P(»kenberger III turned out to be the world's foremost expert on Spam.
Lecture by lecture you fell be¬ hind, but you weren't worried because you knew the local supermarket was having "Spamtacular" savings throughout the store. Unfwtunately, you spent all your money on cheap beer instead of cheap porit. By the time mid-terms came up, the lO-fw-l sale was over, and now die Spam was really gonna hit the fan.
The night before the big Spam-Lab was due, you roamed the aisles of the 24-hour Stop-n-Rob in search of the all-purpose wonder-ham. Unfortunately, your colleagues had beaten you to the last can. You left with your head hung low, holding only a box of NoDtn and a Icme tin key.
Oiriy one course of action re¬ mained—pull the classic ALL NIGHTER. In a desperate attempt, you looked through your kitchen trying to find any substances that would help you concoct .imitation Spam.
In a food processor you com¬ bined okl pale green hot dogs from last summer's softball game, a big glob of
outdated salad dressing, two scoops of lard, a box of pink jello, and a can of dog food tlud a vulture wouldn't eat.
With only an hoiu' befcne the Spam-Exam, you sliq)ped the flesh¬ like mash into the tnicrowave, zapped on die "Nuke" setting for thirty minutes and watched the meaty mess froth and sizzle.
Unfortunately, your home cooked Spam turned to granite and didn't fool Dr. Porkenberger. As a result, you flunked the flrst Uiird of your mid-temi.
But that was THEN and diis
is NOW. Things are looking bad. With no other ctHu-se of acdon left, you play connect-the-dots on the scantron form and try to BS on the Spam-Essay. You have no prayer of answering the complex potted meat questions omecUy.
Can Spam be factored into Vienna sausages? Does X plus Y squared equal Spam cubed? If a train travels at 100 MPH how much Spam will die passengers eat?
Now it was time to face the awful truth—you are going to fail Artificial Kfeat Byproducts 1013. For
CHRIS ALLEN & X)St E  RODRIGUE^/PAISANO
some strange reason, as you leave the Spam midtenn from hell, a warm feeling envelops you. You realize next week is Spring Break and diere's a beach ban on Spam. ^
HAVE A
GOOD TIME