Net: With the warm …

Net: With the warm glow of two hockey victories still making our minds delightfully fuzzy, we rejoice in the fact that midterms (at least for the collective) are complete. Now we can get back to determining the true relationships between the “women” of Cleopatra 2525 and attempting to find out whether the establishment ever released 1985’s Explorers (starring River Phoenix and Ethan Hawke) on DVD.
NACHO MAN
From Hacksaw Jim Cancer: Net, I am glad to report that I am in better spirits Net: Liquor? than I was last week, seeing as the crossword puzzle fiasco has been seemingly solved. Net: We prefer the ‘Junior Jumble’ ourselves Amidst all my non-studying for midterms I was able to actually have some fun this weekend after getting back home from working the concessions at the Gopher Hockey game Friday night. Speaking of that, Net, if you are willing to grace me with your presence at an upcoming game and acknowledge yourself as the all powerful Net, Net: We are always with you. In every congealing pile of rancid nacho cheese, Network is there. In every cup with 95% ice, 5% soda, Network is there. In every senior citizen short-changed, Network is there you will be handsomely rewarded. Do the words ‘free nachos grande’ mean anything to you? Net: Do the words ‘200 hungry, broke students professing to be the true Network’ mean anything to you? But to get off this tangent and back to my story, I got back from work only to run into my friends drinking and watching Game 6 of the 1991 World Series. Net: Wow, this must have been written a long time ago, and we thought e-mail was faster than snail mail How cool is that? Seeing Kirby’s homer again was almost as cool as to what was about to transpire. In our drunken haze we all got a hankering for some doughnuts, and since the UDS bastards don’t leave the next day’s doughnut boxes outside the dorm loading docks anymore for anyone to take, we had to make an impromptu road trip. After hearing of tales of Mr. D’s, a round-the-clock doughnut shop in LaCrosse, Net: Do the words ‘Donut Connection’ mean anything to you? we had no choice but to go. All 6 of us piled into the car and began our trek to Wisconsin on I-90. Upon reaching Mr. D’s, we all gorged ourselves with apple fritters and blueberry doughnuts. After eating and driving back, it became clear to me that the impromptu road trip is a lost art and I encourage all you Network readers to chime in with your tales of the highway. Net: One time we drove to Wisconsin, and boy, was our face red
DEFECATION LOCATION
From deftones: Dear Network I have a problem that the piss-ant Dr. Drew wannabe Dr. Date can’t help me with — no, its not whether Pearl Jam or Creed is better cause they both suck monkey nuts. I have been a student here for two and a half semesters and I still am having trouble finding an adequate place to go poopy. Net: Just hold the bastards in. Don’t let poop run your life! Seriously, every throne I sit on at this dump (no pun intended) has something wrong with it. I need a toilet with: a low chance of people walking in, minimal yet interesting graffitti, and fairly clean surroundings so I can read my Daily in piece Á I mean peace. So Network and fellow students if you could please help me with this “problem” I would be very grateful. Net: Anyone?
SMOOTH
From dick slap: Nuttin’ a, Net, I was originally planning on writing about my friend, let’s call her stubblefield, dropping her pants in the middle of the matchbox 20 (who, if they actually could play music, would not, in fact, play it well) concert and peeing on the floor of the Mankato arena in the middle of thousands of people. Net: Sounds like a classy gal, can we get some digits? But, why write about my friends when I could write about my own embarrassing stories? (Besides, I’m pretty sure one of those bastards would report this to those brainwashed, j-school idiots who write for the Daily’s front pages, accompanied by the headline ‘dick slap slappy, slippy’ Net: That’s nice, its got that alliteration and assonance we look for, along with that reach-out-and-grab-the-reader-by-the-balls-and-make-them-read quality) So last Friday, being a beautiful day, I went running. Net: You’re a beautiful day? I decided to run back from the West Bank on the 10th Ave Bridge. I don’t know if anyone else notices this, but on warm, sunny days, all the beautiful girls come to campus. I don’t think they have class or anything, they just come to walk around. Net: And look for suitable mates! As I’m running over the bridge, I see one of these gorgeous young ladies about twenty yards ahead of me. We’re the only two people on the bridge. Net: *Begin slow techno-funk music with a soprano sax solo* I collected my breath, sucked in the pot-belly, and ran right next to her as fast as I could make my 200 pounds to go, and gave her that smile that says “you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” And I get maybe five feet ahead of her and fall right on my ass. Net: Nice move, girls love that Chevy-Chase-esque wacky comedic falling down For anyone who’s never had this happen to them (and I’m guessing there’s a few of you out there), it’s very embarrassing. If that girl’s reading this, I hope maybe someday I can get your attention in a somewhat more *refined* manner. Net: You never know, she could be a medical student So I get up, feeling pretty bad about myself, and run home through the mall area, get onto Washington Ave., and to my horror, I see before me at least 20 more beautiful babies. This time I didn’t just fall. This time my ass landed and rolled into Washington Ave. Net: Wethinks you should maybe reconsider your workout choices The worst part is hearing everyone go “oooooooh” as my head bounced off the concrete. So I got up and limped home (I think I pulled something *down there* Net: When you were thinking about those ladies?). Later, at the hockey game, I could barely get down the stairs. And speaking of hockey, I think I went with the only three good looking puck bunnies in the whole arena, cheeves, princesslea and addy. The rest of the girls are nasty, and the hockey cheerleaders were skanky, too. Except for one of them, none of them was pretty cute. I would’ve gotten up to speak to her, but you know how I get when I’m around the ladies … Net: Not to mention the stairs Á