Net: And so it is, Networkians — We cannot help but notice how many of you are astruggle with quarrel and feud; still others grumble o’er nettlesome behaviors of your nefarious human friends. Funny, you Adamites — always awash in bicker, quibble and tiff.
To wit:
LIBATION FRUSTRATION
From Talula: Ishtar, you are not alone in your battle, my vegetarian friend! I, too, am persecuted by carnivores. Net: At least you’re not hunted by carnivores. We, being especially ambrosial, have suffered said vicissitude since the Triassic Period. I’ve had to endure the sarcastic nickname “Meat Queen” for over three years. And I’ve had to withstand taunting when at Net: Lenny’s Denny’s all of my friends get Moons Over My Hammy and I just get a grilled cheese sandwich. Net: Two words: Soy Burger. As for drinking … I still haven’t figured out what to do to keep myself amused while watching all of my friends drink themselves into a stupor. I guess I’ll just have to settle for munching carrot sticks while they all play quarters. But we’ll win in the end; they’ll all die before us. So we get the last laugh! Net: Or will you? You think about that. We’ll reserve the last laugh for ourselves.
SPACE CASE
From Gartha: I hate sharing an apartment. Net: Try sharing pages with boring “news,” blurry, pixellated photos and dumb adverts. And that nasty crossword puzzle — always being all cryptic and pretentious with the verbiage. You’ve got it good. Every time I play my ukulele, my roommate starts ranting and screaming. Net: She is evil. Run. Run now. Plus, she thinks that it’s OK for her to be fixing her hair in front of the bathroom mirror while I’m sitting on the toilet. Even when I’m trying to do something nasty!
Isn’t there any way I can live by myself at the University and still be able to survive? Net: You could join the Earth Firsters! at the Highway 55 protest encampment … I need an entire unit to myself — bathroom and kitchen included. Please make this possible! Net: Consider it done. Another satisfied Network reader. Onward.

FOR THE BENEFIT OF ERM
From St. Paul Alumnus Guy: Oh glorious, non-gender-specific, possibly disembodied spirit-being known as Network! Net: We are cooing with delight; y’all’re gettin’ warmer … !
I have been perusing your pages at work (Network — it’s not just for wasting time in class anymore!), and I had been developing the idea that things at the University had not changed much in 10 years. What with all of the griping about parking and those infidels from across the St. Croix and their green and gold gods, I assumed the campus was just as I left it.
Could you please help out a fellow and explain the term “erm?” I’m stumped! Net: We searched and combed every little corner of our linguistic banks, to no avail. So we just went with it. Erm. Sorry, Star of the Morning. We know how dispirited you are, but you started it. All I could come up with is the sound that Billy Bob Thornton made in “Sling Blade” when he was nervous, i.e. “I’m going to, erm, hit you in the head with this, erm, lawn mower blade, erm.” Am I right? Net: Shore do laahk them french-fried pataters, erm.
Keep up the good work, Net!

LAND OF THE LOST
From DiscoFox: Great and mighty Network, I hail thee! Net: Wisely done. What I want to know is why the hell you are dissin’ the Bugaloos? The ’70s decade has not gotten the respect and honor that it so richly deserves!! (At least not until this year with a certain Fox show). Net: Yeah, yeah … that one show … about the ’70s … So, what I must say to you and everyone out there in Networkland: DISCO FOREVER!!!!




WHEN AMINALS ATTACK
From Pixee: Dear Network persons of all race/gender/ethnicity/age/favorite color possibilities, Net: Orange. Our favorite color is orange. I was just thinking, how did you people end up with a job like this? Net: How did (“Star Trek: The Next Generation’s”) Q get his job? Silly rabbit. Did they draw your names from a hat, or something? Do you get paid to do this? Do you get paid A LOT to do this? Can I get an app? My job at Bruegger’s sucks. Net: But your bagels — so chewy and sustaining …
Anyhow, on to my personal rant. Actually, it’s not much of a rant, just a theory that my man (we’ll call him Herbie) and I came up with. Those DAMN SQUIRRELS; do they ever hibernate? I think that’s a very important issue, since they’ve decided not to this year … they torture us year-round! So Herbie and I got to thinking … hmm, maybe they’re NOT squirrels at all! Remember in “Pinocchio,” when the children run away to that amusement park and smoke cigars and turn into donkeys? Maybe, just maybe, the disgruntled squirrels are actually STUDENTS WHO ATE AT UNIVERSITY DINING SERVICES TOO MUCH. Think about it. They are always begging for food off of us. But is it ever cafeteria food they want? No … they want REAL food in the hopes it’ll turn them back into students. One got really desperate to communicate with me this fall, and it climbed up my leg! These poor souls, these damned children, these poisoned students; there is nothing we can do but chatter in their general direction, pretending to give them words of comfort. THAT’S why they don’t hibernate. They’re people, I’m telling you. Students! Save yourselves and spend your extra moola on Village Wok takeout! There’s a conspiracy here, there is! Augh! Net: You’re either on to something, Pixee, or you’re on something. We’re in favor of both, and wholeheartedly support your position. We don’t want to grow up, either.