So, as Phroth-sick alumnus with nothing better to do with her time, I was fooling around with Google Analytics for the Phroth Web site. Most of you probably don’t know that us Web site gods and goddesses can actually see what you mere mortals type into Google to access www.phroth.com. Well, we can.

As to enlighten the rest of you Phrothlings and phroth phans, here are some hi-lites from Google…courtesy of their keyword tracker.

The number one searched for keyword that resulted in a visit to the Phroth web site was “andrewmcass. I can only assume this means Andrew (one of Phroth’s most dedicated writers) or his parents are googling himself a LOT. Alternatively, the CIA is after him for drug smuggling and they just can’t believe such an international warlord is in Phroth.

The fourth most-oft searched for keyword resulting in a visit to Phroth.com is “Chewbacca for president.” This outranks both “phroth, “penn state phroth,” “state college phroth” and “phroth penn state.” Seriously. In fact, There are four keyword combinations that include the word “Chewbacca.” In sum, these search queries produced over 30 visits to the Web site.

There are 14 keyword combinations that include the words “fat, “girl” and/or “rape.” Girl is occasionally spelled incorrectly, but nonetheless, these searches have produced 18 visits to the Web site.

And the best for last:

(These didn’t produce a whole lot of hits to Phroth.com…but they produced at least one).

Get ready:

• Can I eat taco bell while I have the flu?
• Family films attack on mens’ crotches
• first indian talking movie mahatma gandhi talks this is one of the rare videos available to see mahatma gandhi speaking
• jersey shore fashion trends
• jersey spring break popped collar
• mayan sayings – angelou (news flash: Maya Angelou is not Mayan.)
• Movie where guy puts numbers on foreheads of his victims
• Pocahontas pee movies

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Laura DeSantis is a former Phrothie (Editor-in-Chief 2009.) Since graduating from PSU in the spring, she has relocated to be with a colony of Phrothies living in the D.C. area. Yes, that’s right, a colony. We’re like lepers.

Thanks to Froth alum Howard Mermel (class of ‘81) we now know what Froth was up to between the years of 1977 and 1981. 

“By the autumn of 1977 the heyday of college humor magazines had come and gone. Although a few hardy publications still thrived, primarily those at Ivy League schools and some prominent western universities, most college students were content to get their humor from NBC’s Saturday Night Live and the National Lampoon, which was still at its peak of popularity. The era when only college humor magazines “spoke” to college students had passed… now mainstream movies, television shows and national publications catered to collegiate sensibilities and college humor magazines were looked upon as amateurish and superfluous, if they were looked upon at all.

Penn State’s Froth, one of the oldest and most respected college humor magazines, had disappeared once again after a brief resurgence in the mid-70s. But a small group of ambitious writers and artists decided that if so many others could fail at resurrecting the magazine, then they could too. During the 1977 Fall Semester, flyers were tacked up throughout the campus inviting students to attend an organizational meeting of the latest incarnation of Froth.”

To read more about Froth’s recent history, click here.

Let mirth prevail!

“In 1950, we had plans for a campus election parody – Our candidate was named Grafty and our slogan was “No Shafty with Grafty”. We had a series of photos depicting Grafty’s dubious activities on campus and had one planned for town – a simulated robbery of the bank on the street perpendicular to the main campus gate (street and bank name escapes me). 

(more…)

by Chris Allen, Production Editor 2007-2008

“A Phond Look Back”

When Phroth alums were contacted to submit an article or story for the special Spring 2009 issue I immediately put pen to paper to bang out my first bits of original material in five years. Then I quickly remembered that I was never a funny writer and, since graduating and becoming a lawyer, have only become more robotic and less funny over time. I wrote down some ideas that I tried to develop like a Point/Counterpoint between an old man and a cat, a rant by a moviegoer still upset with “Last Action Hero” (which would have been semi-autobiographical), and a review of the Rose Bowl with LOADS of Trojan condoms jokes. Ultimately, I copped out and decided it would be much easier to just recount some of the good ol’ days, as all nostalgic alums do, and let all you punk kids know that our fun was ten times more fun than the fun you are having right now. As my grandfather always says, “I wrote the book you are reading.” In this instance, that is 100% true.

Rather than regale you with tales from all four of my years at Penn State and with Phroth, I’ll focus on the 2001-2002 school year, otherwise known as the Greatest Year Ever (in the history of my life). 

First of all, our staff that year was amazing. The amount of alcohol and drugs consumed by members of Phroth that year alone is legendary. Our staff meetings, though always filled with big ideas and agendas, deteriorated into dick and fart joke competitions 100% of the time and, naturally, nothing was ever accomplished. We had a sweet office in the HUB that was shared with one of the loser fraternities which we lost the next school year for a series of misunderstood pranks. You haven’t died a slow death until you have to come up with a rational explanation of your misuse of numerous feminine hygiene products to the HUB administrators. 

Despite intellectual obstacles and financial limitations, we did manage to rally and bang out two solid issues and, for the first time in our history, we raised money for THON. Myself and former editor-in-chief, Matt Little, were Phroth’s first two dancers, an achievement that is still on my resume. 

Second, did I mention how drunk we used to get? Consider this: staff meetings were every Monday and Thursday at 6:30pm. After every staff meeting/dick joke extravaganza we went back to then editor-in-chief Chris Coleman’s apartment for “40 oz. Party Night”. It was routine at that time for Thursday, Friday, Saturday, most Sundays, and Monday nights to be party nights. Did this affect my GPA? Of course. Did it help out the magazine? Not at all. Did it cost me future income because I couldn’t get into a Top 25 law school? Probably. Would I do it all over again exactly the same way if I could? Absolutely. And here’s why – I have a smoking hot wife, a large penis, and my farts smell like butterscotch. Did I have to get permission from my smoking hot wife to write that last line? Yes, but the woman understands, and you should too, that money is everything and I’m still making a lot of it anyway. You should do the same if you want to lead a happy existence. 

Finally, Phroth’s first canning trip for THON was probably my favorite weekend in college ever, and it all went down in Scranton, Pa. Besides the drunken orgy and winning the wing-eating contest, I also participated in Phroth’s phirst phist phight, when I unsuccessfully took on our Head Writer, Larry Palazzalo. Larry and I were good friends before, during, and after the phight, and there are no hard feelings to this day even though I frequently get asked, “How’d you get that huge scar on your forehead?” The answer to that question is, Larry picked me up and dropped my head on a rock. You probably guessed that my blood-alcohol content was over the legal limit, and my pants were around my ankles, but I don’t like to make excuses. I was beat fair and square and although Larry has politely declined my request for a rematch the past 7 years, there are no hard feelings. 

In a sense, Phroth in 2001 is a lot like you are right now. Immature, directionless, inebriated. Eventually though you’ll grow up, graduate, and become stable with income and family. The Phroth of today has managed to succeed with advertising and donations in contrast with our miserable failures at both and subsequent begging of UPAC to bail us out. But it turned out for the best and so will you. So read Phroth, give them some of your parent’s money from time to time, and, as always, Let Mirth Prevail!

—————
Wes Bain, Esquire
Writer, Assistant Editor, Class of 2004
Phroth Beer Pong Champion 2002-2003

Something that always struck me as interesting is how the most unusual partnerships can arise incidentally through Phroth. It happened for all of us: when we joined the magazine, a few experienced Phrothies would take you under their wing and offer you guidance — whether it be about your sense of humor or your poor life choices.

The general statement that all Phrothies are in some way socially awkward or geeky never seemed to hinder this outgoing nature, ability to network and form friendships. I remember the intimidation when some of my first pitches were ignored by the brass, but I also remember getting an idea approved for the first time and going up against Rebound in a head writer vote so close it almost tore Katherine Harris’ vagina. In a very informal sense, I think we can all look back at our time with Phroth and see the natural progression of “big brothers” and “littles” that frats spend countless hours trying to refine.

And when you look back at our parties, there was nary a difference between us and the frats. Those booze-splattered nights were some of my fondest memories of Phroth and, surprisingly, some of our most productive meetings. Whether it was watching Colleen pour beer down Freshman’s back, showing up at B’s house in a toga (for a prom party), getting hammered at the Skeller with Cali and Freshman during our “pre-meeting meetings,” or screaming after seeing the horrible truth inside a black bucket — notice how three of the four examples of partying included Freshman — those moments managed to inspire us to produce some of our best content.

The parties also helped us fornicate. My God, Phroth is a horny bunch. Get us all together long enough and we’ll try to mount any member that is remotely attractive or remotely single. My list goes so far as to include Dave Barley (on the neck … totally hetero).

But the gin and the sex brought us all together. And fueled by the great talent and experimental comedy of the freewheeling early 2000s group, the soul-crushing insecurity of the middle years and the tremendous team of no-talent hacks that I am proud to call proteges — Phroth is now free* and popular.**

Okay, enough of this “The Big Chill” dancing around with Jeff Goldblum and reminiscing shit. Anyone who knows who I really am also knows I just want to talk about myself and my contribution to Phroth, so here it goes: I was a gloriously inspiring head writer.

We had some rough moments early on (Freshman graced the cover in his skivvies) and my talent pool didn’t exactly seem deep in those first months (fat girl rape is NOT funny), but with the help of my lovely and talented assistant Rebound, a tremendous production team and, frankly, writers who worship me, we put together some of the best issues and Phollegians to that date — and more importantly, set a higher bar for future writing teams.

This is getting long-winded and I know we all want to get to Chili’s, so I’m just going to end with a list of things I’m so proud came from the minds of my team of writers: I Support Smoke Free Mars, Rocket Penguins, Texas Chainsaw Baptism, Jimmy’s talking fruit cartoons, Ahhhnolds Restaurant, Sexy Returned to Original Owner, Wii Colonoscopy II: The Shit Hits the Fan, “Penis => Verginer,” Phroth Phundraising Spectacular, Live at the BJC: Nickelstained with Puddle of Creed, Study shows everyone is from ‘outside Philly’, Fat Kevin, “challenger dogs,” State Breakies Day and basically all of Jason Hellmann’s headlines.

* – Because we alums donate
** – Because it’s free and soaks up blood, vomit

—–
by Pete Ciferri, Head Writer: 2006-2007

There was once a time when the biggest problems in my life usually centered around whether I should spend $1.75 on the 40 of Hurricane, or go nuts and spend two bucks on the Mickey’s.*

Being a journalism major, academics were never much of a concern, and as one of the Cool Kids (implicit in Phroth membership), I did my fair share of partying. 

Except in zany comedies, you only get one shot at college (grad school doesn’t count, overachievers). They’ll let you keep going until you get it right, but once you tap out, that’s it. Things change, however, the second you file your intent to graduate. Remember how the bad guys knew where Frodo was as soon as he put on the ring? It’s pretty much like that, but instead of a big evil eye, the big evil corporations that bankrolled your five-and-a-half-year Magical Mystery Tour will come looking for you.

But don’t sweat it. After a year and 20 or so résumé revisions, somebody will finally throw some pity your way and give you a job.

Congratulations! You’re now a shamefully underpaid freelance production assistant, performing menial tasks, and making almost $40,000 a year. Not too shabby! Factor in federal tax, state tax, local tax, Social Security, and health insurance and that’s still like $22,000. Let’s figure $200 for student loans, $400 for various other loans and expenses, and if you want live somewhere that doesn’t totally suck, you’re going to have to tack on another $700 for rent.**

Sooner or later, you’ll even pay off the credit cards. What’s important right now is that you’re in the black by like $500. You can live on that. You can do this. Since this is probably the most money you’ve ever seen, you probably won’t be drinking malt liquor that tastes like rancid dishwater anymore.

But it gets better: unless you’re totally inept, you’ll keep moving up, getting raises, and making more money. Just because you’re not in college anymore doesn’t mean you’re not still technically one of the Cool Kids, so do it right. Drink some good beer for a change. Hell, buy a round of shots for your lame ass coworkers at happy hour. Just don’t try to sleep with any of them. You’re not that cool.

At some point, you’ll start find that you have more money in your account at the end of the month than you expected. Bills will be a little less of a concern. People will call you sir or ma’am at times other than when you’re complaining to the manager of the Starbucks at Target that those fucking baristas fucked up your Venti Vanilla Bean Frappuccino Blended Creme (you clearly said that you wanted fucking sugar-free vanilla).

Better celebrate the occasion by getting married and having some kids. Buy a house while you’re at it. These are the things that people do when they finally have some money but don’t have the energy to party like a college kid anymore. Eighteen years later, when you’ve got 2.5 disappointments calling you every other week to borrow money for, uh, “books,” the cycle will have begun anew. Congratulations on your life.

In the end, you’ll end up dead, and probably and broke. But I won’t. I wrote for Phroth, and that makes me the motherfucking Highlander.***

* The Hurricane.
** Just kidding. Rent in places that don’t totally suck costs way more than $700.
*** I’ll probably still end up broke (see second paragraph).

—
by Chris Coleman, Editor in Chief 2001-2002
He’s one of the main dudes of the Internet, and should be put in charge of basically everything.