Net: Oh hiiii! Ther…

Net: Oh hiiii! There you are! Come on in … welcome to Network! Our first installment is a lovely, long-winded six-part rant from a regular-writing, self-described alcoholic fratboy with a masturbation problem and no sense of direction or linear topicality! Enjoy!
From Peewee: Please excuse the rather scattershot sampling today Net: We did it for you but I gots a lot on my mind and I need to get it all out. Net: Got the post-Spring Jam blues, eh, Pee? You weird greek … However, before we begin I ask that everyone bow their heads in prayer and observe a moment of silence for the recently departed, former WWF tag-team champ, Owen “The Rocket” Hart (younger brother of Bret “The Hitman” Hart) who died when the cable lowering him into the ring during Sunday Night Heat snapped, plunging him 15 feet to his snapped-neck death atop a turnbuckle. Net: A sad day in the, erm, “entertainment” world, to be sure. OK — onwards! Hey OXGuy, if your carpet does not smell like stale beer and puke; then you ain’t livin’ frat life to its fullest (please note my incorrect usage of the semicolon) Net: And lack of period. Personally, I find a nice aromatic whiff of Schlitz and stomach butter helps reassure me that last night was well spent. Net: WARNING! ABRUPT TOPIC SHIFT! I agree with -G- that this new registration system is a piece of motherf*&^%##$##@^^$*#[email protected]^##!##%&*(&% ^%##@^%^&$&$*^%*^%$**$^%##&^##&#$ ON A SPATULA! Net: Using a special “scurrilous tirade text-blocking” decryption algorithm, we figured out what you were going for there. While it’s not pretty, it might be sort of a fun puzzle for y’all, like a “cryptoquip.” Let us know if you get it — we’ll think of a prize. It’s sort of like two hours and three departments it took for me to register and I still don’t know what classes I have or whether I can escape from this purgatory on time. SCREW THIS SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!! Net: TOPIC SHIFT AGAIN! To those random freaks hanging outside Willey Hall last Thursday night around 9 o’clock-ish — take a bath (especially you, transvestite boy) you people smelled like ass! To the Middlebrook ultimate frisbee team — win or lose you’re still a bunch of GDRs (or GDIs if you prefer). You may have won the battle, but we won the war for the overall trophy, so thppppppppt!!! Net: It’s a little-known fact that Citizen is an ULTIMATE ringer. So if anybody needs a player … oooo! Look out! Topic shift! To anyone who disliked “Star Wars: The Phantom Menace” — please understand that bashing the movie does not automatically make you a “serious” or “respectable” movie critic. Roger Ebert, who knows more about movies than the entire University wannabe-journalism department, gave it a big thumbs up, so why should anyone listen to Skipper’s review from A&E? Finally: Gimme an R! Gimme another R! What’s that spell? RRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! Net: Ah, Peewee, ya oft-sword-aloft pirate; you crack us up. Goddamn right. Net: Thus ends the longest letter we’ve printed, in its entirety, since the beginning of the year. Hope you’re proud of yourself, Pee.
From Talula: Happy Monday, Network. Net: Um … thanks … but it’s Tuesday. I’ve got a lot of things on my mind on this hideously sunny morning Net: Now you wish it would be back the other way? Close your eyes, and wish that it were cool … everyday … final exams and moving back home to live with my parents for the summer are just two of the morbid thoughts looming over my head. Net: Things to get: 1. Job 2. Apartment. Other worries are having to see Brother Jed for yet another day as I scurry across the Mall to geology, and my night class tonight that will cut into my evening nap time. But, despite all these troubles, I was optimistic as I awoke four hours earlier than usual … for today, I was number one in the schedule to register! Sure, I had to get up at 8 a.m. to register, but I was first! Alas, the University dashed my hopes, as it always seems to do. Net: You have hopes left? You must be post-secondary. I get to the enrollment Web site, and there is a notice up stating that the “Web registration is unavailable.” Being the mistrusting lass that I am, I tried to register anyway, but it would not approve any of the classes that I entered. Net: Bowling always fills up first. Deal. Leave it to the University to drastically change their registration system right before everyone needed to register for classes. Brilliant thinking! It appears that monkeys are not only being used for testing here, but they also are responsible for Web site maintenance! I will be cursing those f##@$%&! monkeys when I am taking four night classes next fall.
From KGirl: If the almighty Network and Minister of Concurrence will allow me, MOC: Yes I would like to explain some things about the new registration system. First off, I myself am a student worker, of IT no less, so yes — IT students are working on this project. Net: A-HA! So registering for classes is sort of like getting haircut at Aveda, eh? Getting 50,000 students term-activated, in the right majors, with the right residency and with the right holds is just a piece of cake right -G-? Every one of those courses had to be entered by hand Net: Three words: Carpal Tunnel Syndrome plus all of the courses that have ever been offered by any campus in the University system since the 1900s. How else are we going to give you an accurate transcript when — and IF — you graduate? Net: However did they do it before computers? The reason it didn’t work last Monday was caused by an accident in the Web department Net: Some silly rabbit spilled her coffee on the terminal and it all went to hell, Webets but nobody died from it. I mean, you’re still alive aren’t you? And it’s works now. Net: And you were forced to take that 10-credit, four-hour M-F 8 a.m. macroeconomics with a lab, but you’ll live. Yes, our system could have been tested more, but that’s for a perfect world with perfect people who could take time out of the perfect days to test our perfect system. Net: Boo-hoo. Guaranteed Wednesday Network real estate to the first letter that correctly defines SNAFU and uses it in a sentence with “Institute of Technology.” Good luck; good morrow.