Heyo! It’s staff baby Tyler “Mayonnaise on the Side” Raso ’19 here, bringing you a Kenyon College Mad Lib!

What is a Mad Lib?

A) “A phrasal template word game where one player prompts others for a list of words to substitute for blanks in a story” (Wikipedia) (((that’s an MLA citation)))

B) My Sad Childhood

C) Not the sequel to Mad Max which catalogs the dystopic adventures of Max’s long-estranged twin sister, Lib

D) All of the above

The premise is simple! I wrote two-thirds of a story, and you write the remaining third. You (or a you + a friend) replace the generic underlined words with specific examples and have a blast. Usually somebody vocally prompts for all the blanks before the responder-person hears the story, but you can do it however you want. Feel free to copy-paste and print it and fill it out!

Original skeleton

Young Philander Chase was born in food, New Hampshire to a man whose name was literally Dudley and a woman who was referred to as adverb. While his father, Dudley, conducted business with men and women wearing tight article of clothing, plural, Philander Chase just loved to verb through the wide open noun letting his body part, plural mingle with the breeze. So much so, in fact, that Dudley would have to shout “Phil! Get your body part back to the study so you can review the Book of Common Noun.” Dudley was such a man of his faith that he would verb over dead if one of his number sons didn’t become Ministers of the Church of Noun. Although Philander was mostly a fan of spirituality, nothing verb, past tense his dopamine receptors more than thinking of students verb present tense their brains with the studies of literature, theology, and noun. After serving some years as a minister, writing extensively on the possibility for compromise between proper noun and plural noun, he set out west to look for suitable land to verb a cross in and call School. Finding hills arching high over the old timey word River deep in the heart of last name, Ohio, Chase could breath a sigh of emotion noun and plant his legacy, saying adverb to himself, “This will verb.” The school came to be known as nonsense word College.

Some examples

Michael Lahanas ‘19
Young Philander Chase was born in Deconstructed Sushi, New Hampshire to a man whose name was literally Dudley and a woman who was referred to as Beautifully. While his father, Dudley, conducted business with men and women wearing tight bras, Philander Chase just loved to adjudicate through the wide open church letting his ear lobes mingle with the breeze. So much so, in fact, that Dudley would have to shout “Phil! Get your prefrontal cortex back to the study so you can review the Book of Common Wildfires.” Dudley was such a man of his faith that he would staple over dead if one of his 72 sons didn’t become Ministers of the Church of Tractor. Although Philander was mostly a fan of spirituality, nothing possessed his dopamine receptors more than thinking of students riding their brains with the studies of literature, theology, and potted plants. After serving some years as a minister, writing extensively on the possibility for compromise between He and yous, he set out west to look for suitable land to attack a cross in and call School. Finding hills arching high over the Rapscallion River deep in the heart of Bowie, Ohio, Chase could breath a sigh of mourning and plant his legacy, saying conspicuously to himself, “This will attach.” The school came to be known as Gobbily-Gök College.

 

Chris Raffa ‘19 and Brady Furlich ‘19

Young Philander Chase was born in Taco, New Hampshire to a man whose name was literally Dudley and a woman who was referred to as Juicily. While his father, Dudley, conducted business with men and women wearing tight jockstraps, Philander Chase just loved to roll through the wide open tables letting his ankles mingle with the breeze. So much so, in fact, that Dudley would have to shout “Phil! Get your earlobes back to the study so you can review the Book of Common Flasks.” Dudley was such a man of his faith that he would gaslight over dead if one of his 69 sons didn’t become a minister of the Church of Chicken Breast. Although Philander was mostly a fan of spirituality, nothing fell his dopamine receptors more than thinking of students running their brains with the studies of literature, theology, and walruses. After serving some years as a minister, writing extensively on the possibility for compromise between Pore and crows, he set out west to look for suitable land to tumble a cross in and call School. Finding hills arching high over the Jalopy River deep in the heart of Furlich, Ohio, Chase could breath a sigh of wet and plant his legacy, saying saucily to himself, “This will trim.” The school came to be known as Fiduper College.

 

Mollie Greenberg ’19

Young Philander Chase was born in Lychee, New Hampshire to a man whose name was literally Dudley and a woman who was referred to as Swimmingly. While his father, Dudley, conducted business with men and women wearing tight suspenders, Philander Chase just loved to dance through the wide open dentures letting his eyebrows mingle with the breeze. So much so, in fact, that Dudley would have to shout “Phil! Get your big toe back to the study so you can review the Book of Common Parking Stickers.” Dudley was such a man of his faith that he would stitch over dead if one of his 1110 sons didn’t become Ministers of the Church of Pumpkin. Although Philander was mostly a fan of spirituality, nothing blew his dopamine receptors more than thinking of students partying their brains with the studies of literature, theology, and lampshades. After serving some years as a minister, writing extensively on the possibility for compromise between Bexley and cats, he set out west to look for suitable land to sing a cross in and call School. Finding hills arching high over the Corset River deep in the heart of Lincoln, Ohio, Chase could breath a sigh of amusement and plant his legacy, saying strictly to himself, “This will wash.” The school came to be known as Bloop College.

 

Elise Tran ’19

Young Philander Chase was born in Lasagna, New Hampshire to a man whose name was literally Dudley and a woman who was referred to as Curmudgeonly. While his father, Dudley, conducted business with men and women wearing tight banana hammocks, Philander Chase just loved to schlurp through the wide open schlongs letting his schlongs mingle with the breeze. So much so, in fact, that Dudley would have to shout “Phil! Get your nipple back to the study so you can review the Book of Common Pubes.” Dudley was such a man of his faith that he would testify over dead if one of his 68 sons didn’t become Ministers of the Church of Pore. Although Philander was mostly a fan of spirituality, nothing lurched his dopamine receptors more than thinking of students gesticulating their brains with the studies of literature, theology, and boogers. After serving some years as a minister, writing extensively on the possibility for compromise between Graham Gund and beans, he set out west to look for suitable land to philander a cross in and call School. Finding hills arching high over the Phallus River deep in the heart of Decauter, Ohio, Chase could breath a sigh of Hornger (horny anger) and plant his legacy, saying licentiously to himself, “This will pour.” The school came to be known as Schmear College.

“That was gross”–Elise