Net: We’re beginni…

Net: We’re beginning to dislike this summer beer money, laundry cleanin’, Reese’s Pieces-buyin’ job we gots when people don’t write in. So we resorted to a sad tactic: We took e-mails written by Daily staffers that we intercepted. Then we gave them Net names. Try matching the e-mail to your favorite Daily staffer (editorial side, only). Or don’t. It’s summer, and we don’t wanna put any pressure on ya.

From Bad Radio: OK, folks, here’s the deal — Being the huge Pearl Jam fan that I am, Net: Our choice of music? All Ray Stevens, all the time. And Enya. I had pre-ordered the new PJ CD on Amazon and was eagerly anticipating its arrival. Net: When did you preorder? We’re engaged. Or enraged. Whatever. It’s a slow day. Bite us. For two weeks, I resisted temptation to buy another copy while on vacation, knowing my very own CD was resting comfortably in my mailbox at work.
How wrong I was. Net: And sinful. Don’t forget sinful. And smelly (trust us on this one, folks).
My copy of Pearl Jam’s Binaural was delivered to the Daily on Thursday, May 18, at 1:06 p.m. Net: Or you could just say, “Over break.” BUT NO. and signed for by the front-desk person, who then put it in my mailbox.
It is no longer there. Net: The plot thins.
If you got this CD in your box by mistake, please return it. Net: Being the all-powerful entity we are, we offer this simple message: We know where your CD is. And shower, for God’s sake. If you, too, are a fan and just wanted to listen to it, please just put it back in my mailbox. And if you thought, “Hey, that Bad Radio kid doesn’t work here any more, I’ll just swipe this CD,” give it back, you thieving little twit! Net: There you have it, folks. The Minnesota Daily: Home to stark raving Pearl Jam fans for more than eight years. It’s on our business cards. We assure you, we don’t have this poor twit’s CD. And if we did, we’d be tainted. We move swiftly on …
Net: Take a wild stab at which department this letter came from.
From Dumbest Guy Ever: Doesn’t anybody ever write into this waste of space on the back page? Net: Only jackasses like yourself. If the newspaper had half of a brain, Net: It’d be us. they would use this for photo space. Net: Oh, undoubtedly. We should have a little survey. Whaddya think, Netizens? Photo or Network? God knows that those Daily photographers work their buns off! Net: Work their buns off? How do you sleep at night? Answer: With a rag of ether over your face. They deserve a hip-hop hooray! Net: Hip hop … ah, to hell with it. We don’t look at this damn rag for nothin’, except for the classifieds. Be sure to check out that one about part-time nannying on the left side of page 10. Riveting. Beats that weak-ass front-page story on solar-vehicle racing. Didn’t we as a people give up on solar power and decide riding is the only way to go?

Net: OK, OK, not all of our letters are intra-Daily correspondence. Allow us to present the only article not stolen from staff e-mails.

Hit Me, Net, One More Time
From the MOTIONintheOCEAN: Hey, Network, I’ve got a question I was hoping you could clear up. Net: It’s what we do. We’re the Dr. Laura of newspapering. Speaking of incestuous doctors … Has Dr. Date been getting questions from students at the local high schools or what? Net: The Daily’s “management” has informed us we have to answer in the following manner. No. No, he has not. The Daily resents the implication that the good doctor has ever had any relations with high school students, and we know nothing about any legal action involving statutes and the good doctor. Like Friday, that girl writing in after she e-mailed her feelings to some other high school kid who blushed when she looked at him. Sounds like a Britney Spears song to me. Net: Oops, I e-mailed again. And could you tell Dan, the guy in Network (last week) who was bitching about a basketball hoop, that I’ll give him 10 bucks to put a goal in my driveway. Net: Nope. We canned his candy ass. Oh, by the way, to all the ladies out there, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but capri pants look good on no woman (or man for that matter). Net: We think we can pull off the look fairly well. Or not. Just take some scissors, Net: Please! Heh, heh. That always kills us. lop off about a foot or two from them, and make some nice shorts or something, but man, get rid of the capris. Net: Women, too, presumably. Later. Net: Yeah, whatever. Our summer of excessive drinking (Drain-O) calls. Piece out.