From Durand: Dear Net: Have you ever been pooped on? Net: What do you call this? Reading e-mails from slack-jawed losers, being paid peanuts, working in a rat-infested building (human rats) with no ventilation system (or garbage disposal). That’s sorta like being pooped on. I have. It sucks. Let me tell you a story. Net: Oh boy. I once was going to Green Bay Net: Without hearing any more of your story, we can safely say at this point that you deserve what you got. to visit a small town called Sobieski, where the bars are fine and the women have no teeth. Net: As opposed to other parts of Wisconsin. I ate and ate and ate and drove and drove and drove and drank coffee. Cheese puffs and coffee don’t mix very well. Net: We prefer a 40 and a couple of Slim Jims. But as a result, I had bad gas all day long! So, needless to say, the car stunk. Well, all was going along as planned, eating, drinking and smoking and farting. Net: Sounds like a typical Wisconsin weekend. Then, about two and a half hours from Green Bay, I felt another bubble in my tummy and decided to let one rip. Net: This is what literary scholars refer to as “foreshadowing.” Next thing you know … Magic poopie fart! Ahhh! Brown hell shot out of my body and into my undies. OOPS! I told my friend Pete that just a little bit of something shot out my butt. But when we reached our destination two hours later, we found out that it was more than just a little. Net: At least you shared that moment together. There was a poopie stain the size of a grapefruit on my jeans and on the seat of the car! Net: You don’t drive a Saturn, do you? Shizznittybobingbang! It was gross. I took off my stained pants and washed them in E-Swan’s washer, but the stains ruined my jeans! What do you think about that? Net: That sounds like shoddy jean-stitching. We say you inform the Better Business Bureau. Moral of story: Don’t ever take clean farts for granted, and enjoy them as much as possible, because who knows when you’ll have a poopie fart! Night, night Netty. Net: Just stay away from cheese puffs, coffee, cigarettes and Green Bay, and your stomach and intestines will thank you.


From Rubbertroll: Hey Net. I know you don’t read the Daily, so let me update you on the happenings. Net: Make sure to put a witty and demented slant on these new happenings when explaining them to us. We here at the Daily do. A law was recently passed that requires minors convicted of using a fake ID to participate in a “drug-awareness program.” Apparently there are some fine drugs available that are currently underappreciated. Net: Like smoking banana peels, which really needs to make a big comeback.
And there were also these Shadow Convention things with John McCain, Paul Wellstone and Chuck D. and their cronies. Net: Chuck D. and John McCain in the same group? That’s our kind of party! Frankly, Wellstone is a little conservative for my taste, but I’d consider voting for him if he picks Flava Flav as his running mate. Net: It’ll take a nation of millions to hold them back.
And finally, mad props to Dr Date. He should use the word “dripping” more often in his column, Net: And lesions. Dripping lesions. Not that that gets readers. But he’s come a long way since the I-saw-a-cute-girl-what-do-I-do letters that he would print consecutively for months. In fact I think I’ll consult Docta Luv right now. Net: Make it good, and make sure you tell everyone if you ever got that Saturn clean. Or were you the one with the milk jug?

From Nyarlathotep Jr: The Wednesday edition of the Daily explained human history in a nutshell. Net: As usual. Consider the story about the students viciously threatened by a knife-wielding neighbor while they relaxed on their porch. What a bad man to not appreciate their latest loud weekday musical selection at 1:30 a.m! Net: We’ve knifed for far less than that before.
And in the opinions columns, we have a column essentially denouncing the role Berkeley played in creating the bomb dropped on Hiroshima, thus shortening WWII substantially. Bravo! I always said we should have fragged and firebombed the place. Net: Yeah, it really would have gotten rid of all those damn hippies. Oh wait, you meant Hiroshima. It worked so well on Dresden and Tokyo, with about the same number of civilian casualties. Those nukes were definitely a waste of resources better spent in sending more bombers. Net: Or tacos. Boy, we sure could go for some tacos right about now. I’m sure the mayor of Hiroshima would agree with me.
Clearly, humans have not yet learned that only violence against mosquitoes is justified. Net: Certain things we don’t understand about mosquitoes, like do monkeys also hate mosquitoes? And wouldn’t leaving bags of blood on every city corner help?


From Phlegm of Discontent: I spent much of last week personally overseeing the slaughter of 5000 heads of genetically engineered super-cattle to provide for my Biannual Orgiastic Mega-BBQ. Net: Now that’s summertime. As usual, it was a smashing success. A staff of 53 dedicated barbecue technicians roasted, basted, grilled and marinated over 70 different meats and meat by-products to a hungry crowd of nearly 1,500 meat eaters and meat enthusiasts. Net: We really hope your activities don’t put ma and pa-owned stores like Burger King and KFC out of business. Meat, beer, corn-on-the-cob, potato salad, exotic dancers, live entertainment, gladiatorial combat, drunken revelry … What more do you need for a great barbecue? Net: Yudof, burning in effigy? Despite the overall success of the event, there were a couple altercations that dampened the mood a little. A contingent of cannibals insisted on roasting some vegans over the flame-pit. Net: Vegans? They barely got enough meat on their bones to suckle on. Try shopping around at the local Old Country Buffet. I refused, since vegan-meat is disgusting, and this precipitated a full-scale tribal conflict between the cannibals and my jack-booted enforcers. Everything was resolved when I, in my Solomon-like wisdom, allowed the remaining cannibals to grill the remains of those who had fallen in battle, along with a couple of campus missionaries, over the auxiliary flame-pit. Net: Make sure you chew around the name tags. And then steal their bikes!