Net: Maybe it’s th…

Net: Maybe it’s the brisk nip in the spring air, or maybe it’s the fact Network readers are an ornery bunch of jacknuts, which causes Networkia to be cruel.
So why deprive you of the fun any longer?

MUSICAL PANTIES

From The Farmer’s Son: Well, Net, old friend, I’ve been at this fine University for nigh on four years, and it’s time I register a couple of festering complaints I have about certain elements of the student body. Net: Is it those chimpy bastards over in the biology department? We don’t even want to START on that one. First, to my friends in the School of Music: you just haven’t been coming up with enough lavish, over-the-top musical numbers. Net: Sylvester Stallone’s musicals suffer from the same problem. You know what I mean … singing, dancing, pyrotechnics, an occasional guest appearance by Clint Eastwood with an orangutan, Net: Wasn’t that an episode of “Golden Girls”? and so on and so forth. It just eats me up inside knowing that those no-good Lutherans down there in Northfield are laughing at us because their “Christmas at Saint Olaf” is put on public television every year, while our musicians are cowering in the bowels of Ferguson Hall (if you know what I mean). Net: Hello?
Finally, I’d like to ask the gentlemen in our campus fraternities why there haven’t been any good, old-fashioned panty raids lately? Net: Too busy sculpting gigantic snow penises, wethinks. Unless TV and movies have taught me wrong, I thought college was all about sneaking over to female dormitories and sororities and reaping a harvest of sweet, Net: Fruit? sweet Net: ice cream? feminine undergarments (a la “Happy Days”). Net: Ah, raspberries. I suppose you guys have been busy, what with your constant studying and social-welfare projects. Net: SARCASM! WE REPEAT, SARCASM IN SECTOR 3! In order to correct this horrible wrong, I propose that on Wednesday night at 11:00 p.m., all loyal sons of the University assemble on the mall for the purpose of forming an Expeditionary Panty-Raid Force. Net: Why just the sons? Damn exclusionary rebels … We’ll then try to find our way to one of the “No Fat Chicks” sororities (if one exists). Net: It’s called Jenny Craig. The rest pretty much writes itself. I’ll bring the ladder.

HIGH TIMES

From ARMOE96: Dear Network, I have been reading your little piece of journalism for four years now and have finally decided to comment on something that has been irritating me for what seems like my whole life now. Net: Gary Coleman? Do tell. I just have one request. Please stop adding your piss-poor attempts at humor Net: We’ll into Net: try the Net: to brilliant Net: stop pieces Net: annoying of Net: our writing Net: loyal, that Net: loving, Networkians Net: readership send you. I have grown accustomed to just skipping over your comments like they are not even there. Net: And we yours. I’m sure this is how everybody goes about reading your work, Net: Is so Net: it why Net: us, don’t Net: or you Net: does just Net: this do Net: guy us Net: completely all Net: miss the Net: the favor. Net: point I Net: of also Net: the have Net: “humorous” been Net: back wanting to Net: page? say Net: Some something Net: people to Net: should that ROLLERDIVA: Net: have shut Net: just the Net: stayed hell Net: in up. Net: Wisconsin, Nobody Net: where cares Net: their about Net: close-minded you Net: kind anyway! Net: are Get Net: welcome a life, you freaking hose-hound!
What’s up, Net? Net: Not much, just regulatin’, maintainin’, “Yo.” This is Chuck Fulloweed Net: Huh? coming at you with the 420 report. Recently, my esteemed colleague, Dr. Jack Tupponganja, contacted you regarding the generally complacent attitude on the part of University students regarding the existence of Iowa. Net: Ah, whatever. As a charter member of the CCCCCRT (Cha Chewy Chewy Chomp Chomp Research Team), I am committed to furthering any course of action that will ultimately diminish the Chewi population, and am disturbed at the apparent lack of animosity directed at Iowans by citizens of the surrounding states. Net: Well, ya know, it is 4:20 … While I believe Tupponganja identified the general problem with the Iowan natives, Net: What, man? what is of greater concern to myself and many others are the particular methods of extermination to be used and how to implement them. Net: Huh? Having previously constructed many contraptions utilizing two liter bottles (minus the bottom), buckets Net: Ha, he said “buckets.” half full of water, and a particular style of bowl fashioned out of tin foil, I consider myself qualified to design machines that will aid in the mass extermination of the Chewi species. But I can not build my giant-sized, skull-cracking robots alone, for I lack the resources and am often content to drive around hatching evil schemes and smoking evil plants all day. Net: Daisies? Pixies? Ha, colors. So I say, “Hey! Hey, you IT melvins! Why don’t you use your powers for good and start building some skull-cracking robots to invade Iowa?” Net: We’re sure they’ll get right on that. ‘Cause remember, if we don’t strike first, they are just going to keep sitting there, smelling like sh!t and f##cking their sisters. Net: But is there anything wrong with that? Now, on to the happy fun-time article (if you’re a guy, anyway.)

THONG, THONG, BLUE

From ButterLuv D: I have noticed a distinct lack of a very important subject on this Back Talk piece. Net: What? What, you say? Net: Well, yeah. Duh, thongs! Net: Riiiiiiighhhht. No one is writing about thongs, and it makes me sick. Net: Right, we can’t believe that hasn’t come up yet. Let’s be honest, Sisqo Net: Or Jay Z. Or Puffy! is a genius. No one else has made a thong song complete with a special beating sound designed to make fine tricks shake their asses. Net: And nobody’s done a samba version of Layla, but ya don’t hear us whinin’. Like that sh!t wasn’t the 2000 Spring Break anthem. Net: We wouldn’t know. We went to Milwaukee (que sa Milwaukee-aukee). So ladies: If it’s Friday or Saturday night and it’s time to go out, throw on those thongs, or drive that ass to Victoria’s Secret and get some. And for the love of sweet baby Jesus, there better be some more talk of thongs soon.
Net: So there.