Net: Hastily we mus…

Net: Hastily we must away, Networkians; Citizen has called upon all NITWIT operatives, the Minister of Concurrence and — as the consequences of our hesitation would be most dire — Us!
King T has come!
King T has come!
King T has come!
Prithee, Networkians, we expedite the number prime — for the program hath incurred a glitch!
Hastily, we must away!
TUBE
From Phlegm of Discontent (back by popular demand): I wonder why toothpaste seems to only come in some variation of mint flavor. We’ve got wintergreen, spearmint, greenmint, wintermint, minty mint or DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Mint, etc. Now, I’m not criticizing mint. It’s an OK flavor to have once in a while, but it really ruins the taste of Mountain Dew when I try to drink it after brushing my teeth. I think toothpaste companies ought to try other flavors. Perhaps Guinness toothpaste (for strength) or Jagermeister-flavored toothpaste, tequila toothpaste or even Captain Morgan’s Spiced Toothpaste. And for underage toothbrushers, something like steak toothpaste, steak-and-potatoes toothpaste or veal toothpaste. Mmmm, veal. I’m sure even Mountain Dew toothpaste could be done. Parents, can’t get your kids to brush often enough? Just give them pixy stix-flavored toothpaste. Tired of steak toothpaste? Switch to pork. Or, if you’re keeping kosher or whatever, switch to chicken. The possibilities are endless.
BOUNCING ‘ROUND
From Thumper: Oh, dear Network, please let a maiden attack Tasmanian-Devil with her wickedly sharp wit! ARE YOU CRAZY? Completely wacko? DO YOU KNOW HOW PAINFUL IT IS TO RUN WITH BREASTS!!!!! MUCH LESS IN SOMETHING WITH WIRE IN IT!!!! Speaking from experience, I know how painful it is. We women wear the sports bras for comfort. It holds us in, keeps us from moving too much and it’s cotton and BREATHABLE. Satin, no matter how stretchy it is, can not compare to cotton or cotton/poly blend. And the wires prick.
SUGAR HIGH
From Pixee: O Obi, O Obi, O Obi … (oh yeah, hi Network) do you really want to know the truth behind my name? How personal. I love it. But yet, I refuse to tell you the itty-bitty details of my heroic tale because of legal complications (I’m not sure how many Minneapolis pigs, ahem, police officers, read Network). However, I will tell you it involves seven people, a hookah and a bowlful of Pixy Stix. Add it up. And don’t include snorting into the picture. Nothing goes into my nose, except for the tip of Kleenex when I’ve really gotta dig for gold. By the way Network, where’s the damn Minister? I’ve got some sins to redeem, if you know what I mean. Ze end-uh.
IT’S A DAMN OUTRAGE
From Bufeyfey: 1) Why do the slumlords of Dinkytown and Stadium Village get away with charging outrageous prices for those hole-in-the-walls? Because there is no easy, and RELIABLE public transportation that allows the students who have no other means of transportation (besides our precious feet) to get to and from school and work.
I, for one, feel it is a conspiracy.
2) What the hell wrong with the media!? JFK Jr.’s disappearance and alleged plane crash has been plastered all over the networks. I do sympathize with the family but for the love of God if I see another montage with his picture and sappy music I just might puke into my corn pops! What about his wife and her sister? I saw maybe one or two little blurbs about them, but that was it. Loss of human life is always sad. Why do you have to have a certain name for anyone to care?
My list of complaints/ observations could go on … like “Eyes Wide Shut” — you did a “bad bad thing” alright … but that is another rant for another time.
CHECKING IN
From Inspector Cheeseburger, formerly known as The Dread Teacher Roberts: Hello, Network and Minister. It’s been a while, but I am still here. My boredom and desire to stay in the air-conditioned computer lab gave me a reason to write. Just two things. First, I’ve decided to change my moniker to Inspector Cheeseburger. Why, you ask? Because I’ve gotten over my infatuation with the movie “The Princess Bride.” My new moniker doesn’t mean anything. I just think it is funny. Second, I wanted to welcome the newbies. It is great to read something new. I certainly hope the frat boy formerly known as PeeWee unleashes his last few plagues and then chokes on his own Chapel Hill vomit. That’s all from me.
C’MON, ICE CREAM!
I knew it! I knew working at a Dairy Queen would have it’s advantages. Oh, Diva, I offer forgiveness for all your sins if you will expound upon what you only so briefly hinted at in your last publication. While I have no interest in catching the interest of you yourself (something tells me you may not be the type to be able to calculate your blading trajectories to maximize rotational momentum transfers), still I see some hope that my job might grant me access to the ingredients of some great and powerful aphrodisiac.
Chocolate blizzard with peanut butter cups and chocolate chip cookie dough? Pah! Only the simplest of hundreds of lactose-laden edibles I have at my disposal. Tell me more, I beg of you all! What alluring mixes of sugary sweets most inflames your gender? What items should I hand over to my cuter customers with a wink and a smile? I must know!
And for your information, Net, it’s only five more weeks till I’m a real freshman here at the U; soon I shall have the power over all the other freshmen who know not of the ways of this place. Then, when they are under my thumb, will I be truly irresistible. The incoming crop of IT honors students promises to produce plentiful beauties. Mock me if you will, but come next year I will find my own “The Mule-ette”, and right quick, too. I’d be willing to make any interesting wager on that, for those of you who doubt me.