JANUARY 12, 1968
After all those wild parties and skiing, school and sub-zero weather are quite a drag. However, some people around school are trying to liven it up a bit with clothes.
Howie Baer is doing his best to brighten up the halls with his loud shirts, but he can't compare them to Jim Hokstra's orange sweater and matching socks. Too bad, boys, but if you ever looked at Barb Shute's wild colored dresses, you'd realize that it's just no use competing with a girl.
Seriously, though, who is the real style setter at Maine? Is it Ron Shuman and his maroon beads or Paulette Jados and her orange juice can purses. Come to think of it, it must be Dale Black and his fan club who deluged the halls with their 150 white fisherman sweaters.
The newest song going around sounds suspiciously like "I Dream of Joanie with the Light Brown(?) Hair." Isn't that so, Joanie Walter? But nothing could top Anne B.'s and Audrey G.'s version of "Alice slipping down the drain."
How about teaching a course in how to run away from home Mr. Potamianos? Considering Nancy Mott's love life, she might take the course. Speaking of love lives, how are all your girlfriends, Phil Witkay?
I noticed that Danny Hillburn has a very high pair of boots which he had better remember to hide under his pants legs. He really ought to get some handsome Hush Puppy ones like John Buner has; they really keep his feeties warm. Of course, that kind is really for people like Keith Jaeschke who get their kicks by shoveling snow.
Ray Rosner has registered the only complaint about the cafe-teria this week: he found the ice cream full of lumps Sorry, Ray, you're mistaken - that wasn't ice cream, it was the milk.
Honestly, Mr. Marine, what's this I hear about you forgetting your keys? What if Mr. Ladd isn't around next time your door mysteriously gets locked?
With so many of my Phynques being graduated this year, I hope some of you talented people register for journalism next year. Just think, you'll earn a full credit and find out who I really am!
Second semester brings many new changes. I hear you have something simmering, Bill Caddy.
Poor Drew Johanson and Jerry Warnke. While they enjoy their orange juice, D.F. will be wallowing in the southern comfort of Brazil.
Bye, Morfit and Phynques