by Nicholas Neoman

Open on October 30, 2021

To whom it may concern,

I fear the worst. Saint John Bosco High School is in grave danger. The school has been home to an evil spirit, containing it for the past 82 years. By the time you read my letter, I will long be dead, but I implore that you heed my warning, for the spirit vowed to break free on All Hallows Eve of the year you are reading this letter. And so now, I shall tell you my woeful tale as to forewarn you never to step foot in what was to become the Bosco Bowling Alley…

Back then I was a spry, brash individual. As a great student and a quick learner, I wanted nothing more than to attend college, but because of the Depression I couldn’t afford my higher education. I figured I would take up a trade and fiscally save so as to one day be able to attend a university. At the time, the Salesians were hiring laborers to complete construction on an all-boys school in Bellflower, California. I was a hard worker, picking up extra shifts in order to make ends meet and save up for my college education.

But one fateful day changed my optimistic feeling.

It was Halloween and we had just ended our shift at the now almost complete Saint John Bosco High School. I began to clean up my work station when a strong wind from the east scattered all of my tools about. As I reorganized my tools and all the workers were preparing to leave, I heard a loud shriek come from what was supposed to be the Bosco Bowling Alley. I heard a menacing howl of terror come from the basement. I looked around at my co-workers, their faces pale from fright. None of us discovered the source of these evil sounds. After some time, we made a pact with each other, agreeing that we would send someone down if everyone paid five dollars to that individual. I mistakenly volunteered myself. I was rash in my decision, seeing this as an opportunity to save some extra money for my college tuition. I remain regretful for my immaturity to this very day.

I slowly turned the cold brass handle of the door and gently pushed the creaking wood forward. I glanced back one last time at the sunset, seeing to my astonishment that my entire crew had fled the Bosco scene. I was all alone on this 36-acre campus. As soon as I stepped foot in that room, the door immediately slammed shut. I tried to force my way out, attempting everything from ramming the door to breaking it down. But for some mysterious reason, the door would not budge a skosh. I regretfully turned back, looking down at the dark stairwell looming in front of me. As construction had not been completed in this section of the school, there was no electricity circulating, no light to guide myself down the stairs. I slowly crept forward, inching toward the dark abyss. I took a deep breath, trying to control my anxiety and fear. I stepped forward, a leap of faith as you would call it. I remember feeling my foot plunge into the unforgiving darkness waiting to make contact with the first step. Just as I thought there was nothing to support me, my body made contact with the solid concrete. The feeling of relief that overcame me washed away all my fear; I became so overjoyed that I never saw the spirit darting straight at me. The last thing I saw was that gleaming devilish grin on its face. I was out cold.

I awoke to find my limbs shackled, chained to the damp wall. The only source of light radiated from that demon that haunted the school. When I attempted to scream for help, I found my mouth gagged by a dirty rag. The spirit floated idly, staring deeply into my eyes. It almost felt as if it was reading my soul, trying to learn who I was, every piece of information about me. At once the spirit ripped the gag from my throat. I had a moment to regain my senses before the spirit began peppering me with questions, asking me for the most detailed, personal answers. Whenever I failed to meet its heavy standards, I felt a sharp pain inside of me, a knife that was driven further into my flesh. I closed my eyes, slowly beginning to come to terms with my death. I reflected on my life and the moronic decision that brought me to this hour.

The spirit, reading my thoughts and emotions, responded to me saying, “Oh stop it you fool! You’re not going to die!” Its voice was hoarse and deep; it unsettled me, as if it were the voice of a young child who was screaming for eternity. It went on to say, “In fact I have a unique proposition for you. I want you to live your life, become a compelling academic, attend that elusive university you’ve been dreaming of. I vow to set you free and pay you handsomely in return for one, small item: your soul…” I began to reel at the words he had just uttered. The knife that I had been feeling was travelling towards my temple, trying to remove my pure soul. I saw that college I wanted to attend, the opportunities I would enjoy in the time of the depression. I saw how I could make it out of here alive, the life I would have, all in exchange for the one thing I have never felt. But something inside of me refused. Some inherent instinct made me reject the offer immediately. The spirit slowly paced forward, uttering soothing words which I supposed to be a lame attempt at convincing me to take up its offer. It came within an inch of me, its gleaming eyes staring directly into mine. The spirit soon realized my decision and began to grimace at me in disgust.

I closed my eyes, accepting my death. In my final fleeting moments, I remembered the books I had read on Greek mythology. For some odd reason, that is where my subconscious had dragged me to in what I presumed to be my last breaths. I recalled the battle of Perseus, I thought my brain was trying to send me a message. When I remember Perseus, I think of his battle with Medusa and her ability to turn a man’s soul to stone by looking in his eyes. The eyes, the eyes, that is what my mind was telling me. The eyes were the key to my soul. In my last desperate attempt at survival, I flashed those windows to my soul open wide, trying to see if I could unnerve the evil spirit attempting to kill me.

At first, my efforts seemed hopeless, the spirit mocked me as I could feel the life draining out of me. But I pushed forward, staring intensely into the spirit’s disgusting eyes. I could feel its emotions, the pain and suffering that it felt. But not for one moment did I ever feel apologetic for my actions. I tore into the spirit, crushing past its emotional barriers, hoping to find the core of it’s hideous, cold soul. The spirit grew weaker, I felt it begin to relinquish its firm grasp on me. Slowly, the spirit backed away, the chains that bound me began to loosen, the sharp stinging pain inside of me grew dull. But I ignored these events, instead focusing all of my will into the spirit. As the shackles around me broke, I crept forward, attempting to grab at it. I had pinned the spirit against the wall, I could feel my emotions dive deeper into its soul. The spirit fell down to the floor, too weak to stand, and I prematurely claimed victory. I paced around the basement, celebrating what I thought to be the death of the spirit. When I looked back, I could hear the disgusting creature softly muttering under its breath some Satanic words. Suddenly, the room became pitch black, the spirit had vanished.

I blindly felt around the room, searching for the stairwell. After I stumbled up the stairs, I found the door that had trapped me earlier in the day. I charged forward at it, and, to my surprise, it opened at my first request. I began to celebrate: the fact that the door had not been tightly shut served as proof that the spirit no longer controlled the school. As I walked out of the doors, I reached into my pocket, checking to see if the contents it contained were still in there. I pulled out a note, written in the hand of a madman. It read:

Yes, you defeated me by some dumbluck,

You realized that I live off of people’s fears.

But in Hell my soul will not be eternally stuck,

For soon I’ll be back in 82 years.

…

And now, to whomever reads my pitying tale, I implore you to please heed my warning. The spirit will return, I know it. Just like in Greek mythology, eternal beings don’t stay dead for long. Have you ever wondered why there was no bowling alley underneath Saint John Bosco High School. Back in the 1930s, after that fateful night, I constructed a shelter in the basement that could contain a spirit of that power. I beg of you to never step foot in the “Bosco Bowling Alley,” for you may not be so lucky as I was. If you prevent people from visiting the spirit, it will perish for the spirit cannot survive without the souls of people. Sadly, I will never be there to warn people. I fear that the spirit has drained the life out of me. I write to you this letter on my deathbed, and I can feel the cold chill of death creep over me like the morning dew. I wish you all the best, Godspeed.

-Anonymous

…

The spirit finished reading the letter, dropping it to the floor. It stared into the eyes of the frightened Bosco students who came down to the basement to verify the letter. The spirit cackled hideously, shrieking with delight. “You fools!” exclaimed the spirit, “You insolent fools! Unfortunately for you, every word of this letter is indeed true.” The spirit arrogantly smirked at his statements, paced around the room for a moment, then turned back with a passion in his eyes, saying: “This time won’t be like the last. There won’t be any heroics this time! I’m coming for each and every one of these Bosco students, until there are no more.” And from then on, all that could be heard from that unfortunate high school were the sounds of naive teens screaming…

Happy Halloween.

by Zachary Gardiner

The most important thing to a Bosco student, next to a heightened education, stellar athletics and a warming sense of welcoming brotherhood, is a comforting place to relieve one’s self.

St. John Bosco High School has six bathrooms, all in different locations, offering many different services, ranging from powered hand dryers to automatic urinals. Some are well kept, some are too hard to be kept. Today these six bathrooms will be ranked from best-to-worst. 

When asked about their opinions of the different bathrooms of Bosco, seniors Parker Beam and Aaron Pena both rated the 200 building bathrooms in their top three.  Pena rated the top floor as his favorite, while Beam rated the bathroom on the ground floor by the basketball court the highest. Both are kept clean, however the ground floor bathroom boasts six stalls – including one handicapped – six urinals and three automatic hand dryers. This makes sense, considering that this bathroom is made most available to guests of the campus. 

Both students rated the 300 building bathroom in the middle tiers of their lists, likely as a result of its pungent smell. This bathroom also seconds as a janitor’s closet. What keeps it in the middle grounds is its size. It has 4 stalls and 4 urinals. The sinks are usually functional. 

Both Beam and Pena rated the 400 building bathroom at the bottom of their lists. This bathroom is about as bad as it can get. Terrible smells, overflowing sinks, unsavory puddles – not good at all.

Without further ado, here are the official rankings of the 6 bathrooms of St. John Bosco. 

1) 200 building, ground floor

The crown jewel of high school bathrooms. Kept clean as the first bathroom made available to the public when events are held on campus. The many stall doors have sturdy locks, and there are plenty of urinals. It’s as good as it gets on the bottom floor of the 200 building.

 2) 200 building, third floor

This is your average restroom. 3 stalls, 3 urinals, sinks that don’t work all that great and just your average paper towel dispenser. This bathroom has a window facing out towards the front of the school and on a good day with no smog, you can see the downtown Los Angeles area.

3) 200 building, second floor

This bathroom is nearly identical to its counterpart on the third floor; however for some reason, this one always has more people in it, often resulting in the occasional overflowing sink and wet paper towels on the floor, but overall a well-kept bathroom.

4) 300 building

This is where things begin to go downhill. Although it does have a whopping four stalls and four urinals, this bathroom is often neglected when it comes to basic cleanliness. Toilets are always clogged, toilet paper is always missing, and for some reason, there’s always this lingering smell.

5) Track bathroom

This bathroom is the second bathroom most available to visitors so it is kept clean. However, this is the smallest bathroom on campus. Located by the baseball field in the corner of the school, the soccer, lacrosse and baseball crowds often use this restroom. Unfortunately, it only has one stall and two urinals.

6) 400 building

This is the worst bathroom on campus by far. The smell is terrible, and it’s almost guaranteed that at least half of the toilets are clogged.

Well, with that, it appears as if the 200 buildings ground floor restroom is the best on campus! Let’s hope it doesnt deteriorate like some of the others anytime soon. In the meantime, keep relieving!

by John Udabe

Every single school year, the best and brightest students always stand out and excel. Now students are not just learning inside and outside of the classroom…but they are doing just that at the same time.

Students are appearing to be even smarter and more creative this year (even though their 56% in a gradebook may suggest otherwise). The fact of the matter is that students are evolving and adapting at an overwhelming pace.

This year has been different from other years for obvious reasons, yet students all across the country are improvising, adapting, and overcoming. Zoom classes have been shown to be tough, as students have to learn at a distance. Yet students are not letting that stop them from learning through hands-on activities, or letting that stop them from taking care of daily activities.

If you think sitting every single day in your room, going through monotonous classes every day is a worthwhile time, you should quite literally take a hike. Shoutout to 5G and mobile hotspots, you can go nearly anywhere, just pull up Zoom on your phone.

Need a quick Costco run? No problem! Might as well pass through Wendy’s while you’re out. It’s simple, just pop up the class on your phone, make sure you have data, and you’re all set. You can hit the town while in class. You can go to the park while in class. You can even pop in some headphones and go to a library for crying out loud (Actually, don’t do that. Still too much of a learning environment).

The geniuses of the world have taken online learning to a new level. These days, some students can be found fishing while on a Zoom class call. No joke, there have been some kids found with a computer in front of them and a fishing rod in their hand, fishing off a boat. It’s genius, they’re not just ‘present’ in class, they’re also getting a lesson in marine biology. 

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Others step it up, hunting animals in the forest while on Zoom. Hey, seeing animals in their natural habitat is even better than the zoo. Why hasn’t anyone thought of this before?

Need a lesson in aerodynamics while in physics class? I’m sure you might still get service at skydiving level. Ok fine, that’s pushing it. But the limits are nearly endless.

And then, of course, you have those students who are a little behind on the curve. It’s not their fault, they’re trying their best. But c’mon, eating cereal or pizza in front of the camera does not make you an edgy student anymore. In fact, it’s just embarrassing if that crosses your mind. Taking your computer during class to a restaurant would be an ameteur move at this point too.

And I’m sorry, but nobody cares anymore what your dog or cat looks like. Unless you have a goat, or chicken, or panda, or cow at your house, we don’t care what your pets look like anymore. That stuff was for last semester buddy.

Of course, this is all assuming that you don’t sleep through every class, which is just as legitimate of an option. In fact (future medical students listen up), the medical experts of the world recommend 8-10 hours of sleep minimum, and if you aren’t willing to do what the experts say – even if it means knocking out during class time – then you will never ever become an expert yourself.

by Nicholas Neoman

In a seemingly endless 2020, Thanksgiving is here! Finally! Perhaps the delicious, overpriced, half-eaten food that takes days to prepare can be the saving grace of a year than finds itself in the midst of a pandemic. Lest we forget, in a year where people are also struggling economically, but still find a way to spend large amounts of money on Thanksgiving dishes, only for a majority of it to end up as forgotten leftovers in the back of the fridge!

Turkey is by far the most classic Thanksgiving food. Several years ago, I had the honor of preparing that magnificent beast for cooking and the results were undesirable. Cleaning out the uncooked turkey was not only revolting but also nauseating. As I was cleaning out the cold flesh, I was holding off my desire to vomit. The pale, squishy meat made me squeal like a mouse. As I was carrying the Turkey from the sink, where it was cleaned, to a pan for it to be dressed and seasoned, I dropped it as it slipped from my grasp. The uncooked turkey went sliding through the kitchen and I went diving after it. After recleaning it and a tirade from my mother, the turkey was dressed, cooked, and finally ready to eat. Just like how I spent a good portion of that Thanksgiving isolated in my room in timeout for ruining a turkey, stay isolated in your homes this Thanksgiving – Coronavirus is on the rise!

Stuffing is probably Robin to turkey’s Batman. Always by turkey’s side, stuffing never finds a way onto my plate. One year, my sister decided to freshly make the bread and create her own stuffing. Little did she know that the bread went stale before she cooked it and the whole dish became inedible. In a frenzy, my sister and I whipped up a new batch of bread and remade the stuffing; however, this delayed Thanksgiving dinner by multiple hours. After finally finishing off the stuffing and warding off my hangry family, Thanksgiving dinner was finally finished. Similar to how I keep stuffing off my plate, keep away from events that could give you Covid.

Cranberry Sauce, keeping up with this Batman analogy, is the Joker of Batman’s turkey. I find that only a small fraction of people can eat this dish, and yet it somehow finds its way onto the dinner table every single year. The first time I remember eating cranberry sauce was in the much regretted Thanksgiving meal I had at my elementary school. At that meal, I tried it for the first time and it did not agree with my stomach. Later that evening, I had become ill from food poisoning that I am convinced came from that excuse for a Thanksgiving dish. Because of this horrifying experience, cranberry sauce is something im not a fan of. I have never been able to think about that tangy sauce without subconsciously vomiting. In fact, people dedicate whole websites and blogs to discuss their hatred for cranberry sauce. To protect yourself from allowing cranberry sauce and covid into your mouth, wear a mask whenever necessary – like when my mother tried to get me to eat cranberry sauce last year.

Green Bean Casserole would be, in my opinion, better off if it wasn’t made in a casserole format. Simply take green beans and boil them, and call it a day. I still can’t fathom how green beans pair with creamy sauces and onions. Probably the most revolting part of the dish is what my cousin did to the dish last Thanksgiving. My whole family was settling down for dinner when my youngest cousin started to look over all the food to be served. She suddenly sneezed on the green bean casserole which made my skin crawl. Surprisingly, the casserole didn’t look any worse. The mucous from the snot blended in with the nasty casserole. From then on, green bean casserole has never had a positive image in my head. Plan on distancing yourself from the revolting green bean casserole and others – six feet apart at all times! The revolting flavor of green bean casserole can’t touch you from six feet out!

Mashed Potatoes are the cornerstone of my Thanksgiving. I simply cannot get enough of them. It has a simple yet elegant flavor that just keeps me craving. The rich, creamy texture dissolves in my mouth. Some people turn to alcohol on Thanksgiving, others bet on football games, I have my mashed potatoes. This year, I have been practicing my culinary skills. School in Covid is, to put it in layman’s terms, boring. It has driven me to cook food, which I normally only eat. Anyway, this year I was making some mashed potatoes to practice for Thanksgiving, and it honestly looked half decent. It looked so good that my 10 pound dog even wanted a taste. I went to the bathroom and when I returned, I saw white creamy mashed potatoes on my dog’s nose. Afterward, he vomited for a good half hour. Unlike my dog, make the wise decision this year and stay at home.

Ham is by far the best leftover food. As someone who cannot stand leftovers because the quality of the food is lessened by half, ham is the one exception that I fell in love with. After a long meal of eating, I can barely look at food for the next three days. The only thing I like to eat is a nice ham sandwich from Thanksgiving pigs’ butt. I honestly have nothing else to say about ham – no funny stories, no burning the kitchen down. I honestly recommend getting one – unlike Covid, please welcome a roast ham into your home.

Sweet Potato Casserole is what I like to believe to be the greatest dish that “counts as an entree.” I mean it has the word casserole in it, so it must be an entree, right? Anyway, I personally think that a dish that is as sweet as pie deserves to be both a dessert and an entree. Technically Sweet potato is a vegetable and marshmallows are desserts – combine them and you have a superfood! One Thanksgiving, my mom placed a Costco order for sweet potatoes and instead of order 1, she mistakenly ordered 11. That Thanksgiving became known as the “Sweet Potato Infestation.” Everywhere I looked that Thanksgiving, I saw bright orange casseroles haunting me. I still have nightmares in which every corner I turn in my house, there is a sweet potato casserole lurking. However, its unchallenged flavor and remarkable texture make for a delightful Thanksgiving – one that you want to keep Covid out of.

Pumpkin Pie is much better than apple pie. This is probably the most controversial opinion since Bosco removed meatball sandwiches from the menu. I just don’t get how creamy, smooth, rich, and sweet pumpkin pie is even mentioned in the same sentence as apple pie. Hands down, the greatest place to get pumpkin pie is Costco. While I have never been an active enthusiast for any crust – pizza, pie, sandwiches (Uncrustables all the way) – Costco’s pumpkin pie filling is the greatest invention in the history of mankind. I have said it once and I’ll say it again, “I could literally eat pumpkin pie filling for the rest of my life if the nutritional values changed.” Legend has it that there was an eleventh amendment in the Bill of Rights stating that pumpkin pie must be eaten at every Thanksgiving. Anway, before I get into a Lincoln-Douglas debate over the peculiar institution of pumpkin pie, I humbly say to buy or make one if you can. Watch out at Costco though because hoarding is becoming a trend again – which I don’t understand because they’re taking toilet paper and paper towels and not my precious pumpkin pie.

Apple Pie is an extra in my humble, objective opinion. While half of Americans seem to love it, I simply don’t. Don’t get me wrong, it has a fantastic flavor and texture. But I personally think that apple pie wastes precious calories that could be spent on pumpkin pie. I think my family secretly despises me for this opinion. While they are all staunch activists of apple pie, I quietly stand in the corner, eating my pumpkin pie. To be fair, I have some very fond memories of apple pie. Once, my mom bought one pie from Marie Calendars the day before Thanksgiving. My uncle’s dog slipped into the kitchen and gobbled the entire thing. My mother believed that one of her four children ate this tragically disgusting apple pie. After receiving veiled threats, to actual threats, to threatening to not buy Christmas presents, my uncle’s dog vomited the pie. I think that part of the reason I hate apple pies is because it threatened my Christmas. Anyway, don’t let Covid become the next apple pie where it nearly destroyed my Christmas – wash your hands at all times.

Hot Chocolate is the masked singer of the list. No one saw it coming! Honestly, I have been drinking festive hot cocoa since September, but who’s keeping track? Hot chocolate is the most delicious drink in history. The milk takes on the rich flavor of chocolate while still keeping the creamy texture of milk. Hot chocolate keeps you warm on cold winter nights. It comforts you during the loss of a football game – as a Bears fan, I know what that feels like. Even when people say that you can eat your feelings, no one ever mentions drinking them away with hot cocoa! Take the time out of your day to make a nice soothing cup of cocoa and catch up on necessary precautions to help defend yourself from Covid.

As you might have noticed, the coronavirus has been on the minds of everyone at the Brave News. Please take care of yourself this weekend as Covid case rates are beginning to rise once again. Be weary at stores when buying groceries for Thanksgiving because hoarding is becoming a trend again. Wash your hands, socially distance, practice sanitary measures, and most importantly eat some pumpkin pie. On behalf of the Brave Press, have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

by Joshua Whitfield

Staying at home gives me and many others what we’ve always wanted, to become one with our inner introverted selves and do nothing. Now after a month at least I am fed up with it, I now have cabin fever and it will very soon become insatiable until I can see someone other than the same 4 people I see every waking moment of every day.

I have done what no man, woman, or child has ever attempted since the years of streaming tv shows and movies online became popular. I have finished my queue, My List, whatever you want to call it, my infinite pit of entertainment has run dry. I started off small by adding maybe one or two shows and think “Oh I can binge this next weekend”, but never realized I have made a fatal mistake. I created a queue that I was continuously adding to week in and week out of things to eventually watch, but before quarantine, I knew I was never going to catch up on all of this seeing as how I didn’t have the free time as I do now. But, once quarantine started I started trying to catch up, this was my opportunity to indulge in this impossible challenge I have made for myself. The challenge was to catch up on all my shows and movies, which added up to about 50 TV shows and movies altogether. Yet soon enough the one all-nighter of binging I did turned into multiple nights on a somewhat consistent basis, sometimes even consecutive all-nighters were thrown into the mix as if I couldn’t mess up my sleep schedule enough. But now one month into quarantine I finished over 30 movies and around 15-20 TV series. Once I completed the mission I set out for, I realized that quarantine now sucks even more than before.

I then went through a crisis of doing random activities and hobbies I wanted to get into such as cooking, reading, working out, or even spending time reflecting on decisions and my mental sanity while in quarantine.  Just yesterday my classes were done around noon and I walked outside went to the top of the hill in my backyard and sat there with no music or social media and fell asleep for an hour and a half while just looking at the sky on our turf thinking about life and what I should start doing better at.

With my TV and movies now being a barren wasteland of bland unappealing no named titles in my eyes because I have seen everything I wanted to, I moved to more video games with my friends. I was hopefully going to scratch that itch for new fun things to do, but it made my quarantine mood even worse because all the time I spent watching movies and stuff I became rusty at the video games I was good at. Now when I hop on to play Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare, I get hit with a 360 drop shot even though I’m sitting in a corner. I came to the realization that I now suck at all my games that I was good at and gave up. Eventually, I ended up trying something most teenage boys have never attempted or thought of before, I went to talk to my family about their lives and what they’ve been up to. I ended up calling every contact I had on my phone whether it was with people I haven’t talked to in a while or cousins and relatives I haven’t even met that whose numbers I got from my parents. I just spent multiple hours rekindling relationships with friends and family.

With all this primal communication I even dug deep down and tried to talk with my older brother, but unlike all the other people I talked to, he’s not pleasant to be around because he still lives with me. Anyone who has an older sibling knows how easy it is to get under each other’s skin, which is what we do to each other. We get on each other’s nerves so much we question why we’re related to one another sometimes. With so much close physical contact he and I started calling each other out on small things we overlooked in the past, I talk about the way he walks inside the house and how small he is. He walks in singing but like most people who think they can sing, he is terrible at it but does it anyway. He plays the same music he sings through his speaker in his room sometimes very loudly and even though he’s had a month of free time like myself, he can’t bring himself out of the eight songs he sings almost every day.

My mom’s gossiping hobby that she enjoys is at an all-time high going so far as to talk about things I’ve said in voice chat with my friends every few days with everyone she talks to. My dad has not changed in the slightest since the quarantine, as he still goes to work. My dad and online classes are about the two things I feel indifferent about during this quarantine because sometimes I can get more hands-on help from certain teachers even easier than during the school year. Yet still for the two things that don’t feel are detrimental to my mind, body, and spirit, quarantine has ruined all of my enjoyable different media forms and forced me to adapt and to become a “normal human being” as my mom likes to address me as.

by Alex Rotter

I’m writing from where I’ve been for the last three weeks: my boring house in La Palma. First of all, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my senior year at home playing Fortnite. I’ve gotten a couple of DUBS in the past few weeks, but the teammates I play with make me rage a lot. Plus, I’m always talking trash about their skills, or lack thereof. 

I haven’t just been sedentary this entire time, though. I’ve also been doing a lot of “at-home workouts,” and frankly, it can get pretty extreme, especially when I start yelling for no apparent reason. I’ve been trying to push myself to get a better body, so I can impress more girls over the Summer, if that even happens. To be clear, the screaming is a total non sequitur to courting girls. That’s just something I’ve been doing, and I hope it doesn’t carry back over into public life once my quarantine is over.

Sometimes living with my family can get a little weird, especially my mom. She’s been understandably paranoid about the COVID-19 outbreak, but she’s gotten stricter than ever. When I go outside to do something and forget to leave my shoes outside, she will flip. Also, when I get food delivered, she’s constantly telling me to take it out of the box because the “COVID-19 is in there.” I tell her that doesn’t make sense because if the virus was attached to the box, it would be on my food too. I’m thinking she’s just going insane like everybody else in the world. But who knows? I’ve had trouble keeping track of every last CDC recommendation.

Further in her defense, I’m also going a little crazy and don’t know what I want do with my life anymore. The first couple weeks were pretty chill, relaxing for most part. Although this past week has been tough. I’m very lonely now and in need of help. I swear sometimes I think I’m not going to make it through this quarantine. At least once per day now, I will start talking to myself in the mirror, like Robert DeNiro in Taxi Driver or something, because I haven’t seen my friends in so long. They also have been doing virtual concerts online, which inevitably ends up with me dancing wildly in my living room.

I’ve been watching a new “Netflix Original” that you’ve maybe seen: Tiger King, which is about “Joe Exotic,” a guy who owns a ridiculous amount of tigers, and this other woman who “saves” the tigers, who apparently had her husband killed. The show has me laughing really hard. I now want to have a tiger as a pet.

When it comes to online classes, all that I can say is that it’s become abundantly clear that random YouTube videos and video games are more entertaining than my teachers’ video lectures.

I end up just sleeping for most of the day once I get my schoolwork done because I’m obviously limited to what I can do in my house. Every time they extend the date for quarantine and remote learning, I just want to cry and eat ice cream. I swear, at my house, there is only unhealthy food to eat and feel at the end of this quarantine I will be 30 pounds heavier regardless of my at-home workout efforts and deafening screams.

by Isaiah Holm and Timothy Levine

Once thought to have no biological descendants, results from a DNA test prove that there may be another Don Bosco out there.

Ancestry.com, one of the largest genealogy companies in the world, has recently found a direct link between St. John Bosco High School’s very own Coach McIntosh and the founder of the Salesian order, St. John Bosco.

This is surprising news as Bosco was a priest that was known to have no children or direct descendants. One could surmise that the DNA comes from one of his siblings. However, there are no other links in DNA from previous generations prior to Coach McIntosh, making this connection improbable and what makes it seem nearly impossible is the fact that the DNA is 100 percent identical.

Margo Georgiadis, CEO of Ancestry.com, believes this to be some sort of DNA anomaly.

“We here at Ancestry have never before seen such an anomaly in DNA,” said Georgiadis. “To have a direct link in DNA over a century after the passing of St. John Bosco could not be possible without having descendants in between the two. It would have to be some sort of anomaly in which the DNA just happened to be similar. Since the DNA is exactly identical, this would seem to be impossible. However, there is a theoretical possibility, but it would be more than a 1 in 70 trillion chance.”

Other people seem to have a different explanation. The Salesian Order of Don Bosco believes that he is a reincarnate of the Saint himself. Father Ángel Fernández Artime, Head of Salesians, is one of the believers of this theory.

“Myself, and the rest of the Salesian Order believe that Tim McIntosh is the true reincarnate of our founder Don Bosco. We do not know how this happened but the Salesian Order truly believes it is a gift from God Himself,” Father Artime said. “God has made his will known to us: the world is need of another Bosco to continue his legacy and message. That is why I will be stepping down from my position as the Head of the Salesians, allowing for Tim McIntosh to take my place.”

Currently, the Cardinal for all over the globe are gathering in the Vatican to discuss the possibility of Sainthood with the Pope, due to the extraneous circumstances of the situation. It is unknown whether Coach McIntosh will be given the title of saint, although inside sources believe it is highly probable and will most likely take place within the coming weeks.

People all over the world have high expectations for Coach McIntosh to assume this role in the Catholic Church and the Salesian Order. However, Coach McIntosh has different ideas.

“I am flattered by the offer and the attention this has brought me, but I am not a saint, nor do I have any intention to become one. I will be continuing my work as both a teacher and coach as that is what I love to do,” Coach McIntosh said.

Could this be a strange anomaly or could it be the reincarnation of a saint? Either way, McIntosh has let us know that he plans on continuing his life as usual and moving on.