Net: You should all…

Net: You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Our beloved Goldy, one of the few entities on this campus that has remained simple and virginal, unassociated with the seedy underbelly that exists hereabouts, suffered a prodigious defeat at the hands of a 5-year-old punk from the Pacific Northwest.
Our hearts go out to the Gilded Fuzzy One. Apparently, our influence can only carry one so far …
… say, to the MSA presidency, perhaps?
THE MOZZARELLA MAFIA
From Burgled and Laughing: To the pizza-thieving jackass or any friends thereof: You broke into my house last Friday night and are probably the same guy who assaulted that woman in Dinkytown last Thursday when she came home to find you stuffing her stereo into one of her own suitcases. Net: The Pepperoni Prowler strikes without warning! Take heed! You took my Martin guitar, my laptop and an antique watch that was my father’s. You also took my stock of frozen pizzas along with one beer. Net: Just one? Gotta be a freshperson. Now, you can’t be that hard up if you’ve got an oven to cook my pizza in. Hell, you’re probably some bored fuckin’ undergrad. Net: They might be bored, and they might be … well, you know … but at least they have appliances. I appreciate you leaving a few things, especially the other stout and one ale, but you will get caught. One of your friends is probably reading this and remembering the time you hit on his sister … you get the point. Net: We hope someone does, ’cause we sure don’t. I hope the beer was worth it along with the other ridiculous shit you took! Net: Guitars, computers, antiques … yeah, that’s pretty much a load of crap. I’m sure you don’t have a girlfriend, judging by the way you left the seat up and tracked mud all through my place, leaving tracks and fingerprints, so why’d you take my lady’s new perfume? Net: Let’s see … one beer, antiques and perfume. Quick! Seal the sororities! There’s a thief in our midst! I encourage anyone who knows you to contact Net and have a good laugh watching you ride up the river with shit in your drawers. Net: We’ll get to that guy later on … I’ll even provide the beer for the parade.
ICKY, YUCKY, POOEY!!
From Cleanrack: To the sick fok who left his crappy underwear at the stalls in the Pioneer lobby bathroom: You sick fok, what the hell where you thinking? Net: “Gee, this load of dung in my drawers certainly is uncomfortable. Perhaps I should remove said offending undergarment post haste.” You need diapers, you know that? Net: Or at least a little less roughage. Now, it is not my problem, but you could at least have had the decency to put it in the garbage Net: or the toilet, but that’s just us where it belongs. For God’s sake, it is not for other people to find and gag. Here is the story behind this rant. As I was heading toward the dining center, I noticed I had to pee. So as any rational person Net: We don’t like yer kind wand’rin’ around these here parts … I decided to go the bathroom, when I noticed a horrible rancid smell. I checked the stall the smell was coming from, and to my surprise I found Net: Jimmy Hoffa? Pants around ankles, reading the Little Red Book? a pair of blue briefs filled with crap. Apparently some dum&*&* Net: We believe the word is “fok” had an “accident” and messed himself. So to that person I say: Net: “For chrissakes, son, stay away from the Old Country Buffet!” “Go to Walgreens and buy a box of Depends, you big dumb ugly smelly crappy baby. Net: Mom? Is that you? And while you are there, why not a pacifier and some baby bottles so you can complete the entire set?”
URBAN CHIC
From Sorry, What Was Your Name Again?: Net, please allow me to grace you with my presence once again and offer some advice to some of the poor, clueless men on campus. Net: How about, “Don’t crap your pants!” Buy some colored socks! Allow me to explain. I am checking out this fine fellow on the bus the other day. I think, “This guy has good taste, his clothes are ironed, his shirt is tucked in and his hair is even combed.” I look down, and sticking out between his dress pants and his dress shoes are thick, white, cotton, athletic socks. Net: Oof! That’s like a shot to the gut for a shoe-whore like us. Oh, you guys! Why do you think all women say the good ones are either taken or gay? Net: ‘Cause. (A-HYUK!) You guys who dress like you just came straight off the farm! (No offense to the farm fraternity, of course.) Net: Not as far as we’re concerned. So before you embarrass yourselves more, invest in some dark socks. Net: And break yourselves of this odd attachment to cotton. Fear not the synthetic blend! You are causing the pickings on this campus to get way too slim. Net: Speaking of slim …
OUR APOLOGIES … NARF!!
From Weizyl: Network, I write to you with a heavy heart. Never in all my years did I imagine Net would stoop to such depths. Net: Now you’re talkin’ … The land of Networkia has been overcome by an oppressive cloud of vile depression and heart-rending sorrow. Net: What? Did Bea Arthur die? I beg of you, Net, repent of your evil ways! This unholy plague first reared its ugly head two days ago when — give me a sec, this is rather hard for me — Net APOLOGIZED! Net: Well, gee … sorry. D-OH!! Oh, the HORROR! Has the day come when Net converts from being the great Network it has been to a politically correct institute of conformity! Net: Watch your f&@kin’ language, missy … For the love of all that is holy and sacred, let this not come to pass! Let the apologies cease, enough with the explanations. Net: Fine, we will! Sorry already! DERP!! This is Network, where Networkians come to share our deepest, darkest secrets, vent our petty complaints and voice our blatantly ignorant (and oftentimes downright outrageous) opinions. For anyone to hold the authors to their words is ludicrous. Everyone knows Networkians are all talk. Let us return to the irreverent, politically incorrect and shallow entries that Network is so famous for. Net: We gotcher back.

We received more than 250 entries (A regal “Huzzah” for the people of this generally above-average kingdom …) for our First Annual But Unlikely to be Repeated Internetastrophe Contest. We will take a weekend to sift through the madness, and the winner will be announced in Monday’s Network.