Net: Before we go off on our little adventures for the day, a note of remembrance. As Muslims the world over complete the hajj and Christians commemorate their Passion Week, let us also remember that four years ago this week, Kurt Cobain’s body was found in Seattle, Wash. Kurt, of course, died for the sins of a generation, finding through his dazed and confused lyrics that reality bites. So, as you complete your holy observances, keep your thoughts on Kurt.
Also remember his grieving widow, who has been reduced to posing for Richard Avedon photo shoots on behalf of Versace — Frances Bean must be so proud. But life’s rough when the love of your life has died.
Thank you. May your god bless you. All in all is all we are.
Now, on to the mail.


From The Ultimate Janitor: As a god-like janitor-student at the U, I thought I’d clear up some misconceptions about the lovely world of the custodian portrayed by my esteemed colleague, The Humble Janitor.
1. I’ve found that propping the door with a little wooden wedge deters most folks from entering partially cleaned restrooms. I don’t even bother with those official “restroom closed” signs, and I get better results. Oh, sure, there are a few feeble-minded people who come in anyway Net: Maybe they aren’t feeble-minded. Maybe they’re just looking for a good time — and that’s what the service industry is for if-ya-know-what-we-mean, Ultimate, but heck, dealing with the feeble-minded isn’t unique to my profession. Net: It’s why God created tenure.
2. I’m also getting pretty irked by people not calling me by my name. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that dweeby vest with the name tag, but everyone in my building knows my full name. Net: Sometimes you wanna go, where everybody … Nevertheless, people insist on calling me a variety of terms of endearment like “Doc,” “Punkin’ Head,” “Hey Sunshine!,” “Zorro” and my personal favorite, “Stud-Muffin.” Net: It might be easier to apply to get your name permanently changed. We think that any custodian named “Stud-Muffin” would be pretty darn good at pushin’ that broomstick. It’s a service industry, if-ya-know-what-we-mean.
3. I notice that students and staff want to talk to me all the time. Net: Of course. You’re an unpretentious person in academe. Consider yourself exotic. We janitors have important tasks to accomplish and we can’t be spending all our time in mutual psychoanalysis sessions, sunny small-talk and prolonged discussion of my variety of interesting activities outside of work. Net: Maybe you custodians could band together and start a newsletter profiling your accomplishments. Or, you could put out a calendar. “Ultimate Janitor,” Mr. April, is interested in anthropology, green politics and long walks on the beach …” It’s like everyone here wants to be my mom or best friend! Net: Maybe it’s the sight of you pushing that stick, if-ya-know-what-we-mean. There’s even a couple of people who give me extensive academic counseling using a lot of specialized terms and arcane vocabulary.
4. People here assume that I want to have lengthy dialogues about post-modernism, feminism, history and literary criticism. That’s fine, but my areas of specialty are music, graphic arts and contemporary cultural analysis.
Well, that about covers it. Oh wait, I forgot! I’m single and available and I would give my phone number, but I’ve got WAY more than I can handle here in my building. That’s my final beef: People keep hitting on me! I’m not making any of this up. It’s all in the attitude, Tubbo! Net: Darn straight. It’s not what you’re pushin’, it’s how you push it. And if you got the agenda, surrenda! Ah yeah — and peace out.


From Princess of Power: In regards to IT Sheetrocker‘s silly tirade, I just want to point out one thing — he may make fun of us CLA students, but he can’t write a coherent, humorous rant about our rampant silliness –and I know I’m not alone in being a CLA student with a partially techie-job designing web pages. All hail English majors!!! Net: And all hail 54-word run-on sentences! We’re with you all the way, English major.


From Stephanie: Here I am again, bothering you. Net: You’re not bothering us at all, if-ya-know-what-we-mean. I’m sorry to say that the keys reported by Finder of Lost Things are not mine. I called the ecology labs, and the keys they had there were unfortunately not mine, which makes sense because I haven’t ever been on the St. Paul Campus. Net: No one ever has, actually. The St. Paul campus is a myth invented by the University to get Norm Coleman off our backs.
In finding my keys, I am not wholly relying on Network’s help. Net: That’s a good idea. We’re not aware of too many things. We know what we know, if-ya-know-what-we-mean. I have been doing a lot of effort on my part, as well. I have called every front desk of every building I was even near that day, but if no one has seen my keys, I will start calling every single building on campus. This is in an undying attempt to find my keys. It has been a whole week now without them, and if it hadn’t been for my roommate screwing up the message, I would have had my keys the same day I lost them. Net: We hope this hasn’t caused a rift in your relationship. After all, understanding and tolerance is the, ahem, key to a successful friendship. Please print this so people know that my keys are still out there somewhere Net: How “X-Files” of you, and someone has them and knows where they are!! Net: Bring in Agent Scully, folks. And choke us in the shallow water before we get too deep. Word.