Net: We have acres …

Net: We have acres and acres of pure, adulterated, juicy content for you today. Can you handle the funk? I think not Á
MICTERATION REVELATION

From Abbey Someone: Congratulations to the U for finally doing something to enrich the life of the average student. Net: Sending the ‘sconnies home? I am speaking of course of the urinal pads in Wilson library that have a black box that disappears when pissed upon to reveal the inspiring message “GO GOPHERS!” Net: How ironic, especially if you watched the Gophers get pissed upon on Saturday I must say that this excitement has somewhat worn off. You see, these pads all reveal the same old boring message. So, I propose that the University invest in urinal pads with various messages. Net: How about “NICE PENIS” or “WE ARE IMPRESSED BY THE SIZE AND VIRILITY OF YOUR PENIS” or “THAT GUY NEXT TO YOU IS LOOKING AT YOUR PENIS” or “CONGRATULATIONS, YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY MICTERATED” They can even make some money off of it selling advertising space. What esteemed and reputable business wouldn’t line up at the idea of having their logos pissed on. Net: We’ll have to talk to our marketing department. I plead to the administrators to consider my request, or I will go back to pissing in the drinking fountains.

FRATTER TATTERS

From DirtySephardim: Oh wondrous Net, let me sing of Friday night in Dinkytown, the first night of lewd Greek revelry. Net: It was the 8th of September/The night I’ll always remember I ventured into the village of sin to celebrate the first Shabbat of the school year, freshman in tow, searching for some cheap, effortless sex. Proudly wearing his orange plastic U of M construction hat he received at convocation, the freshman joined me in my wenching. Net: Microsoft Word spell-check suggestions for wenching: wrenching, wincing, wanting, benching.
We approached the epicenter of debauchery, Frat Row. Brittany Spears, Backstreet Boys, and others from their ilk struggled to reach our ears. Halter-topped, stretch-capried, wonder-cleavaged, drunk/drugged-up SoHos (Sorority Whores) competed to reach the poofy-haired, cargo-shorted, Hawaii-shirted, FratNUTS (Fraternity NUTTERS). The freshman tipped his orange plastic UofM construction hat at them with a polite “good evening.”
The pulsating mass of SoHos and FratNUTS roared “Woooo!! GO HAT!! WOOOO!!” Net: Gotta love “Woooo.” The only communication (besides the occasional high five) necessary when drinking and/or at a party.
The freshman was satisfied. I was not. I needed action. Standing on an alcohol-drenched corner, I threw the freshman to the ground and stood on his weak, na├úve back, using his body as a surfboard to ride the waves of SoHos. Up and down we went, his hat leading the way. Beer-soaked capris and SoHo flesh blurred into wave upon wave of murky woman fluid. Net: And then I woke up. I tried to steer the him into a frat, hoping to find an orgy, but the freshman struggled. Kicking the dark liquid, he knocked us off course. Washing up at the door of the Purple Onion, we admitted defeat and sipped lattes. Net: So you’re gay?
From Mephistopheles: Oh, faithless Net. You lament your lack of letters, yet you failed to print my recent submission, whose semicolons alone contained more wit & soul than the entire text of Friday’s column. Net: We agree, the collective was a bit “out of it” on Thursday night and managed to forget about some letters stored inside our “e-mail program.” It’s because I defended the much-maligned Harvard Market East, isn’t it? Net: no. What do you have against this establishment, anyway? Net: They only carry cheddar cheese Rold-Gold pretzels, and not the honey mustard variety. Did they play a role in some undisclosed childhood trauma, the memory of which makes you apoplectic? Did you apply for a job there and see a less competent person hired instead? Net: *cries* Is this your petty revenge, printing only derogatory comments and withholding words of praise? I must say, Net, I expected more of you. Net: DON’T GIVE UP ON US *sniff* DON’T SEND US TO BOOT CAMP WITH SERGEANT JULU. Not to engage in sadonecrohippophilia (the act of beating a dead horse), but the HME is unarguably the finest retail experience to be found on this crummy campus. Surely I am not alone in this opinion. If you love the HME, speak up! Don’t let the naysayers Net: nay spew their bile all over Backtalk unopposed.
Generic transitional device.
If we postulate (as we’re about to do right now) that for every person walking in the bike Net: Ack, too much bike crap Á we all know bikes suck and pedestrians suck. Our solution: NOBODY GO TO CLASS — It’s too dangerous. Let’s consider the bike discussion closed. Unless, of course, we have a large drought of letters and then we will bring it back in full force!

MELCH-O-RAMA

From President Weasel: Mushi-mushi Net. Net: We’re not mushy, we’re actually quite firm *ahem* I knew it was too good to be true Net, but it looks like the worst thing in the Daily has returned. Mr. Nate Melcher not only made his triumphant return with his “wonderfully witty cartoon,” but he’s now writing actual columns for the Daily. A double shot of Melcher was almost too much for me to handle. Net: You may not like to hear it, but the bastard also did the editorial cartoon, making it a triple shot of retina-searing pain. But now that the whole campus knows what the kid looks like, he better just stay inside so he doesn’t A) Get beat up for looking like that; B) Get beat up for writing the worst comic strip in the history of comic strips; and C) Get beat up for looking like that and still having the nerve to write the worst comic strip in the history of comic strips. Word of advice freshpeople, just so you know, whenever you see anything with the name Nate Melcher attached to it, it’s going to be drawn poorly and will be as funny as a kick in the head. And one last bit of advice to the freshpeople, when the cops come to a party, please refrain from running and screaming into the night, Net: pants at half mast all you have to do is walk away, just walk away. Net: Leave your oil, your pump, and there will be an end to the horror — First person to write in with the movie this last comment was a reference to will automatically have their letter printed! Unless it deals with bikes Á