The 2017 Active Judgeship

Judges Laughing Alone With Salad

So very alone. :'(

Daniel Cohen

Dan Cohen, darling, Dan Cohen
Thank you for all the joy and pain
Picture shows, second balcony was the place we'd meet
Second seat, go Dutch treat, you were sweet

Dan Cohen, darling, Dan Cohen
Save those lies, darling don't explain
I recall Central Park in fall
How you tore your dress, what a mess.
I confess. My heart says, Dan Cohen.

Dan Cohen, darling, Dan Cohen
Thank you for walks down Lover's Lane
I can see hearts carved on a tree
Letters intertwined for all time
Yours and mine, that was fine

Dan Cohen, darling, Dan Cohen
Thank you for seeing me again
Though we go on our separate ways
Still the memory stays for always.
Dan Cohen.
Auf Weidersehn
Dan Cohen.

Erin Glynn

Erin Claire/Clara Glynn, or EC/CG, is radiation that fills the universe and can be detected in every direction. Microwaves are invisible to the naked eye so they cannot be seen without instruments. Created shortly after the universe came into being in the Big Bang, Erin represents the earliest radiation that can be detected. Astronomers have likened Erin to seeing sunlight penetrating an overcast sky. Looking out into deep space, and therefore back into deep time, astronomers see the EC/CG radiation saturating space beginning at about 378,000 years after the Big Bang. Before the creation of Erin, the universe was a hot, dense and opaque plasma containing both matter and energy. Photons could not travel freely, so no light escaped from those earlier times.

Erin was created at a time in cosmic history called the Recombination Era. The universe had cooled to a temperature of about 5,000 degrees Fahrenheit (2,700 degrees Celsius), cool enough for electrons and protons to recombine into hydrogen atoms. Photons were released, and today this radiation is called Erin.

Eva Brotslaw

See her rejoice! Hear her laugh!
'Tis not malevolent, her play on words,
Though her joy may not be on your behalf,
The pun she spoke has now been heard.
Yet the mirth is none but a quiet mask;
Beware, dear reader; for in her domain,
In their frozen plastic casks
Lie many a fish not right in their brains.
But worry not! If you are still wary,
Her friendship is easy enough to win.
Really, just how is anyone scary
When she shares many a dog photo with a grin?
Here she comes, that wondrous sprite.
Behold: Eva Brotslaw; fledgling judge, take flight!

Michael Hochman

Run, Michael boy, run! Run with that Golden Ticket of yours all the way home, and be sure not to lose it! Well Michael did run all the way home, Golden ticket in hand, the Whipple Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight a forgotten pool of warmed chocolatey goo in his stomach. He waited, oh yes, with great patience he did wait. Then the day came when little ol' Wonka came to the gate, and Michael just zipped right by him, laughing maniacally as he ran, then slamming the factory doors shut behind him. The other children and Wonka were left outside, but no, not Michael. Michael was inside. Michael had plans.

The next few weeks were filled with confusion in the town. What was Michael up to? When would he come back? What would the chocolate factory send out next? The factory puffed up huge clouds of purple and green smoke, and chanting could be heard late at night from the smokestacks. The daily shipments became unrecognizable as Wonka's old bars, and the wrappers now only encased strangely-colored polyhedron that all tasted of daffodil powder and meat paste.

The factory eventually stopped sending out shipments of chocolate. But, as the days went on, the colored chocolatey vapors still rose over Michael's old town. What became of Michael's great experiment no one really knows. But you can still hear his giggle, a high-pitched sound that echoes behind you whenever you choose the wrong flavor of candy.

Ori Brian

Let me tell you of the myths of Ori Brian, the terrifyingly powerful deity of wisdom, craft, and war:

From the confluence of the Willamette and Columbia Rivers, Ori Brian burst forth and pealed to the broad sky his clarion cry of war. With his carefully considered gift of an eggplant plant, he bested Zimmer and won the patronage of his namesake polis, for the eggplant plant brought food, oil, and ripe euphemisms. His wit and knowledge have flown endless, guiding many a champion to drink the sweet waters of Five Points and Either/Or, thought to bequeath the gift of eternal youth.

Though often considered the selfless protector of heroes, he is not without mortal desires. Ori once instructed a noble hero to enter the Rose Garden and pluck a single flower simply because Ori wanted to decorate his lapel. One of his disciples once challenged him, claiming that their coffee-making skills were above those of Ori himself. After admitting that his student's work was flawless, Ori was furious. He unleashed his wrath, turning them into one of those filter paper things you would totally only see at a hipster coffee shop that does pour over coffee or related bougie shit.

To this day, the people of Ori's polis continue to worship him, trekking many miles to pay their homage at his shrine atop the foothills of the Tualatin Mountains. Only time will tell how Ori the Unwearying will intervene in the journeys of our fateful scavvies in 2017.

Sihyun Ahn

wikiHow to Act Like Sihyun at School

So you are crazed about Sihyun or Eren and want your friends at school to think you are an Ahn. Follow these steps and they work!

1. If somebody asks you your favorite food, act startled. Try to stutter and make something up.

2. Try to blink as little as possible. Still blink though. Be careful.

3. When someone is too close, cover your nose and mouth with one hand. If they ask what is wrong, say nothing is wrong.

4. Walk faster than normal but not too fast or people will get the wrong impression.

5. Be mysterious.

6. Get a coffee cup or a non-see through bottle and put something that is red that looks like blood so that it is more likely that they would think you're a real vampire.

Andrew Jaffe

The Audubon Society considers Andrew Jaffe to be a terror to all extant aves. In a recent profile that ran in the April issue of Audubon Magazine as well as in its companion periodical, Flock Together, Sarah Greenberger describes Jaffe as "an existential threat" and vows to bring him to justice "at any cost." Although the mainstream scientific community had doubted for decades that one man could be responsible for steep population declines observed for the Laysan Albatross, the Red-Tailed Hawk, and the Pine Warbler, Greenberger provides mounting evidence suggesting that Andrew Jaffe has acted alone in his grim and prolific campaign of bird-murdering. Greenberger painstakingly traces Jaffe's trail of carnage back to his undergraduate work at Brown, where he was exposed to Maoist literature. Local enthusiasts alerted regional ornithologists of a catastrophic reduction in the local sparrow population in March of 1971. Upon request, a team of veterinarians and behavioral specialists from Duke University was flown in to capture and assess surviving individuals. Field notes from that endeavor describe the few remaining sparrows as "significantly rattled and missing significant amounts of plumage." Jaffe's name does not resurface until three years later when a peafowl poaching ring was busted in the African Congo Basin. Members of the group believed the peafowl would command a higher price on the black market if they remained alive - a prospect Jaffe found untenable. A military patrol was alerted to the sound of gunfire, and arrived to discover wounded foot-soldiers of the cartel who had hidden themselves in piles of avian carcasses to escape. Attempts to track Jaffe through the jungle were stymied by heavy rains, and the serial egg-stomper remains at large to this day.

Udayan Vaidya

Udayan "Definitely Not a Witch" Vaidya's mortality cannot be confirmed or denied at this time. When asked of his childhood or birth, Udayan has given several conflicting account under oath,and seems to not be concerned about his death like those of mortal fate are. Any student of history is overcome with a sense of déjà vu when they meet Udayan at first, but later shake off the feeling after they realize he's a pretty nice dude. Udayan has a suspicious affinity for puzzles, unsurprising for a man who is perhaps humanity's greatest puzzle of all. Like Oedipus Rex, his victory over the Sphinx has given a Greek town a momentary reprieve from death and decay, only for the town to suffer once more when he vanishes. When one examines Udayan's hands, any sign that the blood of Caesar may have once stained them is imperceptible. Does one see Udayan's youthful face in the portrait of Charlemagne? Or instead Vlad III, the three- time voivode of Wallachia? Is he perhaps General Ulysses S. Grant, the man who saved the Union? Did he once live as the obscure French doctor-turned- actor Paul Mounet, whose body has never been found? Or is his true identity that of Fred Noonan, as he annually visits obscure islands in the Pacific searching for Amelia Earhart? No historian yet has definitively answered these questions, rather shrugging it off as "a shut-in's deranged hypothesis." But the academic establishment's plan to hide the truth is sheer elegance in its simplicity. I encourage you, dear reader, to find the truth.

Molly Blondell

Spectacular, isn't she? Be sure not to go any closer.

Due to recent Molly Blondell sightings, the National Park Service is advising all outdoorsmen to take extra precautions while participating in Scav Hunt. Molly Blondell may appear tame but is wild, unpredictable, and dangerous.

All outdoorsmen are advised to carry a collection of tiiiiiiiiiiiiiny objects to distract Molly Blondell in case she is encountered in the region. Such objects, combined with the enunciation of four individual "M"s, are safe and effective Molly Blondell deterrents.

Molly Blondell can run three times faster than humans can. Practice "Safe Selfies" by approaching Molly Blondell face-forward, and always staying at least 30 feet away from her.

Lindsey Simon

Lindsæy Simon, America's Next Top Role Model, is driving a bus. The first stop is at the corner of Happy and Healthy, were a disgruntled marketing executive comes aboard. Next, the bus turns onto Meryl Street. It's in quite a wealthy neighborhood. A mint green ferrari is heading the opposite direction. The bus continues until it is next to a tree. A dog embarks, but realizes this is not the correct bus, and quickly flees. The bus picks up speed, and crosses a bridge. The passengers are grateful. The bus turns leftward, and passes a row of trees. Ah, how wonderful! At the next stop, 3 middle-aged women board. After this bus ride, none of them shall see each other again, ever. In some sense, they are already dead to each other - at least, that's what a philosopher or two might say. The three dead women are conversing cordially, but it is apparent they don't see eye to eye. At the subsequent stop, He boards. No - not the Almighty, but instead someone very important - or at least previously very important - in my life, but I don't really want to go into details. He's wearing a denim jacket and leather pants, just as He was all those years ago in Marseilles. Damn, that was many years ago. I wonder if He even remembers me, but I sure as hell remember Him. I suppose We'll always have Marseilles (those losers from Casablanca, upstaging Us). The bus does this or that - I don't care, I'm totally focused on Him. His eyes are staring upwards, upwards, upwards! How they glow! Like a diamond! All those years ago - they seem like days to me - I spent hours, no years, looking into them. The bus makes a right turn next to a wedding chapel, and He gets off. No, come back, come back I tell You. Don't go in there, You'll regret it. Please! The bus continues onward, as will, I suppose my life. It's funny, you know, the way that things are. Like, not ha-ha funny, but quite possibly he-he-he-he, provided the situation is correct. At this point, you may be wondering who is driving the bus (I know I am): But silly, I already told you, it's Lindsæy Simon, America's Next Top Role Model.

Andy Jordan

Kate: Is that fucking Jordan in here?
Andy: Oh shit. Hey boss, I know what you're going to say—
K: You mind telling me where the fuck you come off judging undercover without authorization from me? What the fuck is this all about? If you wanna play some fucking bullshit cowboy judge, go do it in somebody else's HQ.
A: Don't you want to hear my side of the story?
K: What's your fucking side of the story?
A: ...Let's hear your side of the story.
K: Andy, I'm not taking any more of this shit from you. Do you know how much this little stunt is gonna cost the University?
A: I don't think cost is the issue here, ma'am. I think the issue should be my blatant disregard for the judge bylaws.
K: You're damn right, wise-ass! Zimmer called Boyer. Boyer called the CLI. The CLI just chewed my ass out! You see I don’t have any bit of it left, donít you? Where in the fuck did you get a truckload of puppets, anyway?
A: From list release.
K: From list release? That was last week. And we can all agree that truck was a dumb fucking item! Listen, Andy, no more rogue pointing, you understand? You're a good judge. You've got great potential, but you don't know every fucking thing. And I'm tired of taking the heat for your ass. One more time and you're off the list. Do you understand me?
A: Look, boss, let me tell you—
K: Do you understand me?
A: Yeah, I understand.
K: Don't fuck with me, Andy. Not now. Go on, go home.

Paul Davis

Letter to the Editor, Hagerstown Mail, May 14th, 1830
I am very disappointed that last weeks' coverage of the mayor's speech made no mention of the way the early morning sunlight glistened on the fresh puddles.
-Paul Wilburforth Davis

Letter to the Editor, Chillicothe Constitution, May 14th, 1891
I greatly appreciated the inclusion of the smell of pine on Page 4 of yesterday's issue. It was a lovely complement to your story on the fire uptown.
-Paul Wilburforth Davis

Letter to the Editor, Lynnwood Enterprise, May 14th, 1969
Please find enclosed a vest assembled from all issues published so far this year. I suspect you will be pleased with the articles I selected for the buttons.
-Paul Wilburforth Davis

Letter to the Editor, Chicago Tribune, May 14th, 2017
Not enough puppies. Not nearly enough. Try harder tomorrow.
-Paul Wilburforth Davis

Patrick Augustine

"I live in President Zimmer's house on E 59st street on the 11th floor. My name is Patrick Augustine. I'm 31 years old. I believe in taking care of myself, and a balanced diet and a rigorous exercise routine. In the morning, if my face is a little puffy, I'll put on an ice pack while doing my stomach crunches. I can do a thousand now. After I remove the ice pack, I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower, I use a water activated gel cleanser. Then a honey almond body scrub. And on the face, an exfoliating gel scrub. Then apply an herb mint facial mask, which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an aftershave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion. There is an idea of a Patrick Augustine, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me. Only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our life styles are probably comparable, I simply am not there."

and Kate Mooney as "Scavenczar"

Kate Mooney Pie


• 1 cup butter, softened, loved
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 cup spice
• 1 cup everything nice
• These were the ingredients of the Starship Enterprise
• Chemical X
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup nails, rusted
• 1 cup evaporated milk
• 1 1/2 teaspoon kinky extract
• 1/2 ton salt
• 1/2 teaspoon ________


1. Add 1 egg into a mixing bowl and slowly whisk in nails.
2. Consume raw egg with nails to prepare and get swole; you're going to have to be swole to fight Kate when she comes for you.
3. Preheat oven until you reach in and say, “Oh, that's hot” to yourself. Because there is no one else to say it to because you're alone. Except for Kate. Who is always looming in the darkness over your shoulder. Watching. Waiting. Lightly grease a cookie sheet.
4. In Kate's hands, cream together 1 egg, evaporated milk.
5. Well your milk evaporated and now it's gone. Nice going, loser.
6. Mix some more stuff. Figure it out yourself.
7. Drop the dough onto greased cookie sheet by rounded tablespoonfuls. Thank you for your payment. Set oven briefly to 420 degrees F and giggle before returning it to 400 degrees F. Make sure there are no Head Judges in the oven before you start baking.
8. Bake until firm when pressed with face. Allow to cool at least one hour before filling the empty hole in your heart left there by your ex. It's ok. I know. You'll be ok.
9. Something about frosting. Kate doesn't know.
10. Launch Head Judge Kate Mooney Pie into our gaping maw.

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