Keeping Each Other on Our Toes Day…but has everyone gone soft?


April Fool’s day. You better wear green or expect at least one person to take it too far and pinch you until you sense a definite welt in your future. I do not think the day is just for jokers or “bang-their-heads-into-refrigerators” type dudes. Even if the day really is just for the eccentric, I’m saying there is a method to their madness. However, the day has undoubtedly died down from “we are revoking your admission to our university” phone calls and making one guy think the rest of you six are going to jump him. What happened?

This year, nothing happened to me. Nobody wanted to scare my panties off with a life-changing phone call or a near-death experience. Not even one pinch. I know FOR SURE that there used to be years when I did see it as a holiday–an obligation to celebrate it. Years when I spent a little extra time scheming that day, not caring too much about who was going to destroy the whole joke by being too sensitive. It’s not their day…

Do we see less of a need to hurt each other in real life? To scare each other a little bit? To keep each other on our toes? With all the Instagram battles, Tweet feuds and passive-aggressive Facebook posts, most people channel the need to check someone through a screen. And most of the time, the expression of anger is hidden in a mysterious post or in the form of a “I never cared” selfie. Or even worse, way meaner than they could ever be face-to-face.

I like to yell at people. Not arbitrarily (all the time), but when I feel so compelled to. This past Easter, instead of watching little, snotty kids fight over eggs and stuff their faces with Reese’s and half-melted Peeps, I sloppily ate questionably moldy sausages with friends and rode Big Wheels down Lombard Street at an event called BYOBW. Once we had finished our last run down the hill, we parked it to hang out for a bit and compare injuries. With our backs turned, someone had decided to snatch up our Big Wheels for a little joy ride. Eyes peeled, my boyfriend spotted the thieves and what followed was a barrage of insults from three people dressed up in cheap, Halloween store quality costumes. I do not think any of us thought we were contributing to the karmic balance. In fact, I was definitely in it for the thrill of whopping it up. It felt good to freak out a little bit. To show someone that they can not just act out of pocket at a whim, even though in many ways we were doing just the same. The elation I had after telling them off could have never been born out of 140 characters.

The Great Burglary of BYOBW 2015 is going to happen again. It is going to happen to another group of “brunched up” individuals just trying to have a good time. We can not stop the friendly pranks. We need April Fool’s Day. In fact, we need it much more often. We have to armor each other against the world’s jerks. We need to give each other sufficient practice at gauging our reflexes and the quickness of our insults. So why did nobody fool me on April 1st? I need practice against Big Wheel thieves. They almost had me.

DJ Mophead is a DJ with KSSU listen to her on TuneIn

Is Gay Marriage Even Groundbreaking?


“Is Gay Marriage a good thing, or is it just putting pressure on the LGBTQ community to just get married and get that white picket fence?”

That was the question of the day in my Lesbian and Gay politics class.

First off, I want to say that I don’t think most people understand that the political arena is not a place to fight for your personal desires. In the liberal sense, most activists types are supportive of anti-religion sentiments in the government. When it comes to gay marriage, you have the most liberal insisting that marriage in and of itself is a white-appropriated, patriarchal institution. However, those holding both of these views at the same time are swimming in the ocean of hypocrisy. You cannot limit the rights of others to pursue your own. That is, you can’t take away marriage to protect the oppressed, nor can you impose religious ideals to protect the “spiritual”.

Government needs to stay broad.

It needs to be the most inclusive.

It can’t be self-righteous.

It most certainly can’t be hateful.

I like to think of my political life as a shopping cart. I’ll grab a carton of “abortion”, about two pounds of marriage and no thanks to the “Protection of my Religious Rights and Oats”–I just can’t afford them when there is a knock-off brand that is just as good.

That’s the way that the best laws work–they protect those who want to participate and tell the nosy people to back the hell up.

I will get a little personal with you now. You have to figure out what your place in this world is. What is and is not important to you? You need to figure out what makes you happy, and most importantly, what happiness feels like. At this point, I think we are all capable of understanding that all the wholesome identities of the world need to be protected.

If you want to over analyze the institution of marriage, do it. The conclusions that you come too–especially if they consist of you wanting it done away with–are probably just your own sentiments towards it. Don’t feel as though your liberation means that you are now the Sheppard leading everyone else to their own. Rarely is that ever the case. In fact, if you want a daily dose of this complexity in your life, there are a bunch of lost people just waiting for you to be their cult leader. Warning: This may result in 1) Murder Charges, 2) Lots of baby mommas (if you are a dude) or 3) a Law and Order: SVU episode dedicated to your legacy.

In a nutshell, don’t ruin it for everyone. Don’t exclude anyone from having the option.

This is a democracy, baby, not your diary.

DJ Mophead is a DJ with KSSU, views expressed by this DJ don’t necessarily reflect the views of KSSU.

Another example of the Socioeconomic divide: I Want to Quit

Untitled-1As a senior, I should not even be in this class, but like a dingus, I took a class with mostly freshman. On top of that, a communications class. To give you a better idea of my place in this classroom, peep this: the teacher asked me on the first day, “Why are you here? You’re a senior.”

We were having a conversation about capitalism’s role in our lives, and got onto the subject of college students doing the balancing act that is work and homework. He had mentioned before that he helped his daughter through college and had also mentioned that he recently helped her buy a condo in L.A.–she is 35 now. This little tidbit left a bad taste in my mouth. This guy seems to favor entitlement, but he is an honest guy and I look forward to his class. Back to capitalism he caught me off-guard by making a divisive assertion where he insisted that students should not have to work during college. “It is just too hard. You do not get the full value of what you are paying for.” I. Went. In. On. Him.


“You’re justifying your lifestyle to yourself. We should tax the rich so that education is free for everyone.”–Professor

It made me so mad, I mean I am all about making education cheaper. I’m also all about addressing the income gap, but really, students shouldn’t work?

“Your parents are responsible for you. They should pay for everything while you are in school. It is their job to help you through.”

I don’t think so. I just don’t. Just because you have kids, do you really have to subsidize their education? That is what I would want to do, but once I learned my parents couldn’t help (at least consistently), I did not have the gusto to ask them why. I just knew that it was something that they could not do, and to beg is to let valuable time slip past you that you can use to take accountability for your life.

I left class not feeling satisfied with my position. I felt like I got so defensive that something else was driving my comeback.

I’m burnt out. The job, the friends, my radio show, my research class, my boyfriend, my family, assigned reading….EVERYTHING. It is not that I do not enjoy these things. The pressure to be well-rounded has driven me to take on new experiences, but what does it all mean if I am tired all the time?

I don’t remember the last time I read a book (assigned or for fun).

I am tired.

I have become capitalism’s little b*tch.

I want to be a kid again.


DJ Mophead listen to her on KSSU

Out of Control…Again

downloadSo, I rang in the New Year with a decision on what birth control I am going to use. If you tuned into the last season of Spectrum (Wednesdays from 8-9 pm) and caught our two-part episodic saga on birth control, you probably remember how unsatisfied I was with my options. I have had a long, tried experience with these hormonal blunders, spawning a relationship that is much like picking classes here at Sac State–expensive, necessary and a willing sacrifice of my happiness to preserve the success of my future. I am dramatic, I know. But for good reason–my hormones are out of whack, and unlike a broken leg or a horrible disfigurement, no one can see it. Instead, they catch my wrath, and think that I am just being psycho.

I ended up snagging the Nexplanon–an implant surgically placed into my arm that tapers tiny amounts of progestin into my system. I got the little bugger installed (hehe) on December 14th. By late January, I had been PMSing hardcore for a week-and-a-half, as my period was late (usually droppin’ in around the 20th) . After weeks of being on a healthy-eating, running and bouldering routine, I suddenly became uncharacteristically anxious, depressed and HUNGRY. The smallest things made me cry–a professor’s story about coming out (yeah, that sounds emotional, but I’m gay enough that a coming out story is as common in my life as coffee), a text from my boyfriend that felt “distant”, and my personal favorite: the loudness of the speakers at the gym that I work at. Friends’ actions seemed calculating. I had just purchased tickets to travel after graduation, and not even that sounded fun. Doritos sounded as good as sex. This. Is. Not. Me. I am a holistic person by-and-by, and I actually like to have fun (not in the way you mention having lots of fun on a dating profile or Facebook, but, like, actual fun). I always think, “What could I change about how I eat or move to make me feel better?”, before I resort to over the counter help, but this was different. There was something blocking me from being the confident, busy-body that I typically am. There was something more powerful than me controlling me. And I knew the entire time who the culprit was.

Fast-forward about 7 days. I’m mid-period (the longest one I have EVER had by the way). It is Saturday morning. I have just awoken from a long night of much needed partying and on to my next favorite weekend activity–BRUNCH. First, I have to drop by the library downtown to get my passport for the aforementioned (first time I used this word, ever) global romp. My homie Vivian (my counter-part on said global romp) booked an appointment together and headed off round 9 a.m. to take pictures for the passports at a Rite-Aid (random tip: save yourself some extra cash by getting your photo taken at a pharmacy versus the library or wherever you go). Right after we stepped foot out of the Rite-Aid a wave of absolute fear came over me. I could not shake the thought that something (I don’t know what) was chronically wrong with me and I was going to DIE…and soon. I knew it was irrational, but it was powerful. I managed to stuff the feeling down, writing it off as a hangover (sometimes it be like dat).

Enter the passport office. The poor guy helping us process our applications had the most high-pitched, annoying voice that made me want to lunge across the table and strangle him. In fact, I kept playing scenes in my head in which I actually did it. CAH-RAY-ZEE. Never would I ever care that much. Every time Viv asked him a question, I wanted to scream at her, “STOP ASKING HIM QUESTIONS SO WE CAN GET THE HELL OUT OF DODGE!” I wasn’t afraid of him per se, but I was just afraid to be around anyone. If I was going to die, I was going to die alone. We left the office and Viv finally started to notice that something was up, I asked her to drive home. I was drenched in sweat and having what felt like hot flashes–can’t wait for menopause. The car ride to meet up with brunch buddies at my boyfriend’s house felt like a joy ride. I was terrified to be on the road. I was terrified of every light pump Viv made on the breaks. What was happening to me???

Once we arrived at my boyfriend’s house, I sat on his lap and started balling. The release of tears felt amazing. The past hour of being paralyzed by fear prevented me from shedding one tear. I went outside for air and finally started to feel like the grim reaper wasn’t around the corner. I felt like I had just been on a roller coaster, my body was tingling from residual adrenaline. I felt like I could lift a car off of my baby, or like I could scream in the face of anyone who thought they were being funny.

I had a panic attack.

From BIRTH CONTROL? No way, there must be something lingering under the surface that I am not dealing with.

Consult: Reddit. What a beautiful tool. Enter into search bar: “Problems with the Nexplanon”.

Sure enough, tons of forums leading to more forums with women sharing the increase of panic attacks experienced on the implant. For the first time in weeks, I finally felt like I wasn’t trapped in the “prison that is my own head” (Credit: Lena Dunham).

What’s the verdict? I am sure that you are assuming that I had that thing ripped out the next day. WRONG. Like most women, I am just going to ride it out. Hopefully I will stabilize. Feeling pretty good post-anxiety attack, but hey, there is always more room for a good death-scare.

Signing off hopeful,

DJ Mophead

of earing

Mophead is a dj for KSSU

On Hellblink’s New Album “Multitudes”


Hellblinki’s 7th album is an “eclectic romp, dancing on the edge of oblivion. Greasy, gritty, and dark.” The best description I came across was “psycho cabaret”, if you could even think about what that might mean. If you need a visual, watch the music video for “All for You”.

When trying to figure out who this band sounded like, I referred to the wonders of Spotify for help in my ignorance. The top result was Gogol Bordello…NO WAY. This band had too much of a cult-like vibe to it. Hold tight, let me explain. I know you should not judge an artist by their music videos…wait…no you definitely should (see: Jared Leto and his many scarves).If you haven’t watched, “All for You”, do it now! That being said, I felt like Hellblinki’s angle was cliquey. If I didn’t get a fairy tattoo and red hair dye, I probably wouldn’t enjoy/be welcomed at the show. The rhythms are strange, and not the good strange–but the “I think I am supposed to be dancing to this but my body doesn’t know how”. I do applaud them, however, on the dope female background vocals on “Danger”, the second track of the album. Throw a little Bollywood into anything and I am game. To my surprise, the album has only one cuss word. For so much eye make-up, I find that to be extremely surprising.

In the spirit of Christmas, the band has an album with “psycho cabaret” holiday songs–sure to be your grandma’s new favorite slaps. My personal favorites are “Nuttin’ on Christmas” and “Buy Me Stuff For Christmas”.

Happy Winter Break to all my P.C. homies,

Merry Christmas to all my friends who like presents,

And happy all the other ones to you know who your are,

DJ Mophead

DJ MOPHEAD is a KSSU DJ she talking on the radio and what not. Listen to her over at KSSU



The holidays typically mark a transition phase in my life–a break-up occurs and I gain 5-10 pounds. This year, I am heading off to Portlandia for the holidays to experience my first snowy Christmas! I am beyond stoked, I have listened to a lot of Mariah Carey’s Christmas music, but never in an authentic landscape. The holidays are always weird, though, and this year they are going to be especially weird. My parents separated 4ish years ago, and I usually trade holidays off (my mom lives in Portland and my dad lives in the 916) but this year I get to see both my parents…next to the same tree…at the same time. My dad decided to accompany me to Oregon so that he could see my little sister, who is also nestled up in the greenery.

Nothing says Christmas like hanging out with your ex. MAYBE THEY WILL GET BACK TOGETHER AND RAISE THEIR 23-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER WITH AN ADEQUATE FAMILY STRUCTURE. I haven’t decided when I am going to tell them that all I want for Christmas is a mommy and a daddy, but I will make sure that they are on the hot seat, I kid, I kid. I think the trip will be very entertaining and awesome, after all, my family could be super lame and keep lines drawn in the sand. You ain’t celebrating the holidays if they aren’t difficult, right?

Eat lots of Muddy Buddies. Make sure to put only red and green M&M’s in your Rice Krispie Treats. Watch that one cartoon with Tom Hanks on the Christmas train just because it has such creepily real looking animation. Binge listen to all the Serial Podcasts at They are so amazing and the perfect to listen to for cold and stormy winter weather.

Peace and Blessings babies,

DJ Mophead

I am Wholeheartedly Concerned that School is Making Me a Robot


Regurgitation. It seems like that is what finals are all about. Stuff as many things into your head as possible, and just vomit them back onto a Bluebook, Greenbook (if you are an eco-friendly vomiter) or Scantron. Babysitting children is a natural birth control. Taking finals is all the motivation to want a creative, dynamic career and to NEVER get sucked into academia.

I am so tired of memorizing facts and universal trains of thought. There is something so soul sucking about finals week. Despite the fact that points are points in college classes and your finals rarely make or break you, we still get so kooky when that last week of December or May hits. I don’t think that we are really tripping about doing well, I think we are just DONE believing that this is the way to place a value on how much we learned in a class. Between the students cracked out on coffee and Adderrol in the library and the insane increase in PARKING WARS, finals week just sucks.

Finals week is just unhealthy, but let’s be real. The tests are not surprises, they are not hard and we are totally capable of passing and getting that shiny grade of our choice. I hope that everyone out there reading this and getting ready for the dreaded week remembers their limitless capacities and abilities. Regurgitating information is easy. The hardest stuff in life doesn’t come at the end of every four months in the form of a hyped up, feared test. I hope you take care of yourself this week–play outside, listen to good music, laugh with friends, eat Mother India’s Punjabi Omelet, drink lots of tea and wait to listen to Pink Floyd’s The Wall until after you test so you don’t become jaded too early!

Besos babies,

DJ Mophead

DJ Mophead is a DJ with Sacramento States only student run radio station KSSU

Sims Review: Rooooosebuuuud!

Halloween2The Sims. It was my first love.  I stayed up until 5 a.m. whispering sweet nothings to my live-in boyfriend. “ZA WOKA GENAVA, NOOBOO!”

I was ten and I was given a space to create a life of my own. I was able to project what my adult life would look like. Being the sponge that I was when I rolled into the “double-digits”, I look back on my Sim’s life now, and wonder, “Am I doing anything nearly as cool as my Sim’s did?!”

First off, I was a millionaire. Once I fell victim to the insurmountable temptation that was the “Rosebud” cheat code, I started to pick up all kinds of swanky habits. I was an avid art collector, and sometimes I would spend all day sifting through the most expensive pieces. Staying up all night throwing a hot tub party in my carpeted living room for my neighbors–enlisting them to help me find the perfect places to hang my treasures. “AHHHHHH MOLOMBIA!”

Secondly, I was the matriarch of my home. My pad was always clean and no one ever smelled the moldy carpet after a long night of drinking custom cocktails in the hot tub. I did, however, get all bent-out-of-shape when my man couldn’t open the bathroom door. The only liquid that gets on my carpet is from the damn jacuzzi! “NEESHGA, NEESHGA!”

Thirdly, my time was mine. I didn’t need a job because of “Rosebud”. I liked to believe that it was an inheritance given to me when I turned 18. Apparently, my from-humble-roots parents were not my own, and my long-lost-well-established-east-coast-socialite parents had given me up for adoption because they were too focused on their careers. When these selfish people croaked, I got hooked up and so did the people who raised me. I built them a nice grandmother house in the backyard of my party pad. We lived surprisingly harmoniously. Mom never cared when I had art parties into the early morning. “HARVA SOL LABAGA ALONG WITH HAVA SO LAWNMUG!”

In the real world, my life is a little less glamorous. JUST A LITTLE. I typically buy art from Goodwill stores. Sometimes I find the time or actually have the space to hang them up while enjoying a Koolaid Jammer. My boyfriend’s never pee on the carpet anymore. I got no inheritance, but financial aid is pretty dope. I have to work for a living.  My mom is actually my mom, and would come hang out for some drinks but she wouldn’t like all that noise throughout the night. “JOWLENINNNNN!!!!”

I’m not entirely sure what I was expressing through this game. I could have really been imagining my life as an adult, or I could have simply been imagining. Whatever it was, I had a damn good time getting obsessed with it.


DJ Mophead

Spectrum: Where do you Fall?


Originally a home-project and podcast, Spectrum was never meant to go live. DJ Afrodust (Juanita Greene) and I, DJ Mophead (Taylor Maurits) were wary of taking on a platform that had such strict censorship guidelines. However, after giving it a shot and interviewing with the staff, we grew eager to work with and learn from people who had experience with the FCC and the pressure of live shows. Plus, it is not KSSU’s fault that society is not willing to accept that Amendment we passed years ago. Dealing with the censorship guidelines has proved to be a challenge, but one we must understand as necessary if we are ever going to be able to reclaim our free speech.

The experience at KSSU thus far has been amazing. We have learned so much about equipment that scared us. Neither of us are technologically savvy, so it has been very helpful to have access to people who are not pretentious and willing to listen to rudimentary questions about things they have been doing for a long time. We have also appreciated the ability to make mistakes on air, no one judges you if you slip-up. It has been such a blessing to get such a huge learning experience without having to fear a boss or have someone limit what topics we can talk about. Rumor has it that many radio stations run a-muck with expectations, songs you MUST play and special interests, but KSSU don’t play that, and we appreciate it.

Spectrum is free-format so have no expectations of what you will hear. We want to talk about anything and everything that gets our wheels turning. DJ Afrodust and I met in Women’s Studies and Government courses, so you can expect everything to have some type of political call to action. We like to talk about things on air that we talk about over a pumpkin spice latte. We have talked about feminine hygiene norms. We talked about the new craze of online dating apps like Tinder, OkCupid, and our judgements about them. Then, we downloaded them, went on dates and put ourselves in the hot seat. This week’s show (10/1) is about American food culture and how we have grown so comfortable with throwing food in a dumpster when there is someone sleeping right next to it.

Our show aims to break down the limitations of absolutism. Absolutism is not a conversation. We think it is important that we push our listeners and ourselves outside of our comfort zones. “I would never do that”. “I do not like that”. “That is not for me”. The latter phrases are not Spectrum. They get us nowhere, they have started wars, they have prevented friendships, they make people unhappy, they keep lines drawn in the sand. Forget absolutism, help us paint a world framed as “black-and-white” back to its true colors.

“Where do you fall?”

Tune in every Wednesday, 8-9 p.m. on or download the Tunein app on your mobile phone. We can’t wait to talk to ya.

DJ Mophead