From Darwin the Gene Pool Lifeguard: Net, I think it’s about time to add some chlorine to the gene pool. Net: And we think it’s about time to add some juice to this can o’ Coke on our desk. It’s damn near 3 p.m., and here we are sober. There are far too many truly stupid people around. Take, for instance, the guy in-line skating right toward my car in the middle of the street on 15th. Was the guy that dumb or just really brave? Net: There’s a thin line between dumbness and bravery. It’s called “last call.” Have you ever noticed that the dumbest people are the ones having the most sex? Net: Is it just us, or was that a direct shot at Rolla? Take, for example, rednecks. They seem to be multiplying at an amazing rate. How can this be, you say? Net: No, we didn’t. We’ve got it all figgered out. We just want to sit here and watch you make a fool of yourself. Well, when everybody from the girl down the block to your sister is a potential lay, it’s no wonder. It’s my contention (big word bonus points) Net: Congratulations, you’ve won a lifetime supply of bitch-slaps that there are four types of people. Those who we want to have as much sex as possible — these are people with the body of a nymph and the mind of Einstein. Net: Take the body of Einstein and the mind of a nymph and you’ve got … Dr. Ruth? Type two are people who should be allowed to have sex, but if they don’t it’s no loss to my pool if they don’t procreate at all. Net: So … is this where all the athletes and celebrities fall? Type three people are the ones who should NEVER have children, but don’t need to be chlorinated. Net: In other words, unicyclists. These are the people who are dumb enough to ride in the middle of University on their bikes at rush hour. Type four are the people who should simply be killed off like the varmints they are in my fabulous gene pool of love. Net: Translation: Maury Povich.
From 2Gutless2GiveAName: Oh, high and mighty Network, Net: Who you callin’ high? after reading Slapnuts‘ oh-so-insightful entry, I feel compelled to correct his semi-accurate picture of our wonderful college. First off, it turns out that despite the boy/girl ratio of 50:1, 90 percent of the guys are either reclusive computer science majors or are too scared of a girl to ask her the time of day, Net: And the other 10 percent are proficient in asking a girl for directions to the can so if my man Ken has a spine and/or a pair of big brass balls, he can easily get some action from any of the hot engineering girls. Net: Hot engineering girls? Sheesh … the only chick these pit stains fawn over is Lara Croft. If that fails, well, there’s a reason the University makes us take liberal education courses. Anybody can pick up a honey in a women’s studies class, where the guy/gal ratio is flipped into the hornier direction. Net: Are you suggesting men are more horny than women? Apparently you don’t watch Golden Girls very often. As for sophomore year, I look forward to brewing aphrodisiacs in the lab with my “nerd” friends while our friend Slappy is screwing sheep in St. Paul. Net: You go your way, he’ll come his. Or something like that.
From FreshAss: Most omnipotent Net, I write to you in laughter Net: and we write to you from the crapper while reading Amish Dumbass’s letter about his supposed Unicycle Wuss Club. Net: Also known as “Any IT major, U.S.A.” If their special “Doctor” really has the poison leeches in his socks, he’s the moron whose gettin’ the poison. Net: You’re paying way too much attention. We never thought we’d say this, but maybe you should pay more attention to class than Net. Maybe one will crawl up his leg and suck on his inevitably small unit, kinda like in that classic tale, “Stand By Me.” Net: Didn’t that happen to Ventura in “Predator?” That was a good flick. As far as his other sidekick, S.T.U.P.I.D., goes, he might as well commit suicide now, for it is a well-known fact by anyone who went to high school that cesium is the metal that explodes when it comes into contact with water. Net: We knew that. We explode every time we try and read the front page of the Daily … Didn’t he sleep through chem like I did? I hope he does put that in his full water bottle. Anyone that stupid deserves to die. Net: Is it just us, or is this guy way too literal? Ah, IT: A home for all the people who knock the believability of “Happy Gilmore,” but marvel at “Star Wars, Episode One.” Oh yeah, RollerSlut? If you were really looking for a long-lasting, rising good time, you should’ve stayed right here. Gotta jet, brotha Net.
From Notablonde: I personally know Slapnuts, whose letter I read the other day, and although I think he’s a wonderful guy, he’s just not dating material. Net: How many times have we heard those words? Rolla can be so cruel. You know what they say, “The odds are good, but the goods are odd.” Net: We have another saying. “If we didn’t like all the people that don’t like us, we wouldn’t like any people.” Take the hint, Slapnuts — we don’t need you to stay. There are 14 other guys in that ’15:1′ ratio that are ready to take your place with the ladies. Net: Wow, these guys are in dire need of females. Maybe a few could transfer out of the J-school. We could name a few we’d like to see transfer … And after four years of college, they’ll be making lots of money instead of smelling like manure. As for the lack of social life, Slapnuts, you’ll have all the class load you can handle with the Farmhouse boys and girls over in St. Paul. Net: What does everybody have against a little honest hard work? And if you’re really worried about how to meet lots of girls, you could always try out to be Goldy. Go Gophers! Net: Right … Go Gophers. We’re not sure that what the cheerleaders have to offer qualifies as “girls.” But that’s a topic for another day and another Net. For now, it’s time to find a little of that magic juice that makes us feel all funny inside.