From Eggz4U: Hello, Network. I’m sitting in class, bored off my ass, looking through the Daily. Front page news really ain’t what it used to be, and actually, the entire paper is just, well you know. Net: Umm … inky? Sometimes I read the “words,” but otherwise I go right to the Network. Net: Indeed, we provide more than just words. We purvey epiphanies. But today something caught my eye — the classified adds. PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENTS: EGG DONOR WANTED: $25,000. Net: Yeah, Mama and Papa Net decided it was time we had a sibling … And as I continue to read on, all they are looking for in a child is one that can make them megabucks when they turn the ripe age of 9 (that is, when they look about 17). Net: Not everyone can be as lucky as JonBenet. You know, the blonde hair, blue eyes, tall and skinny “chick.” How stereotypical can they get? (Hey now, no smartass comments … ) If you are going to have a child, shouldn’t you want any child that will call you Mom? Net: Not if you’re a Dad. And would you really want all the 35- to 40-year- old men drooling all over your daughter (or son, if you’re like that)? Net: Well, Auntie Net used to lick her thumb before wiping smudges off our cheeks. What’s the difference? And if they are infertile, they could use any old egg — it’s the father’s sperm that will help decide physical characteristics. Net: Yeah, and it’s the cheese that makes the omelets! Am I the only one to find this somewhat disturbing? And what is “plus expenses?” Like $25,000 isn’t enough. Net: We’d like someone to shove a collector tube up your crankshaft and rummage around for a while and then see if you think 25 Gs is enough. ARRGH! Damn idiots. ADOPT! Enough on that topic. Thanks for listening to my brainfart.
From Jenna: Hello, Network! Here is a tasty tidbit revolving around a much-abused but always entertaining topic: freshmen (excuse me; freshpeople). Net: Some individuals defy classification. While some have written you, Net, defending their intelligence and maturity, among other things, they continue to prove themselves wrong. By merely sitting in the Sanford Hall lobby Net: What better way to spend a fine fall afternoon! one might observe some of these ‘geniuses’ walk to one of the security doors (ones that require their U Card to open), stand and read the sign that says “use your U Card to open this door” and still yank on the door repeatedly. Net: Perhaps they are merely mini-rebels, refusing to take The Man at his word. Or else they were overcome by a sudden case of Don’t-Press-This-Button Syndrome. Then they stand, dazed, wondering, “Why, oh, why doesn’t this door open?” Perhaps this isn’t so bad. Net: Sure, if you’re into oxygen thievery. Although when they are standing there in this dazed state and someone (myself) offers to enlighten them with a simple, “Try using your U Card first,” they seem to take offense and maturely walk down the hallway saying, “Try using your U Card first” in squeaky, high-pitched voices. Net: It’s a puberty thing. It makes me want to be as mature as them and kick their asses. Thank you for letting me vent.
From Queer Bait: Frat boys. Oh — my — god. As a gay man, I can’t think of anything more erotic than 20 sexy guys living in one house, getting drunk together and running around half naked in togas. Net: Half of the houses on Fraternity Row are evacuating this very moment. The phrase “I’m not gay, I was just really drunk last night” cums to mind. Net: Oh yeah, that’s one we hear a lot. Almost as much as, “My poodle needs an oil change.” I’ve heard it uttered a dozen times by my frat-boy-stuck-in-the-closet friends.
Let’s face it — a large percentage of frat boys are gay. If I weren’t happily cummited to someone right now, I’d definitely live in a frat. Sharing a room with an often-naked hottie, taking peeps at the others in the shower … it is a homo-in-the-heat-of-his-sexual-peak’s dream cum true!!! Net: Try porn, for chrissakes, and keep the foaming to yourself.
If you ask me, a frat party is the best place to pick up gay men. I’ve never gotten the freak on at a frat party, but every time I go, at least two or three masculine-acting-frat-boys approach me, and when no one’s around, ask if I want to ‘go somewhere private’ with them. Net: They probably need help wheeling in another keg. I’ve always said no, being faithful to my man (who is in Italy with an exchange program until December. Ah, me …) Net: And we bet your last boyfriend was from the Niagara Falls area, right?
So there you have it. Frat boys, you ain’t foolin’ nobody. Net: After all, if you read it in Network, you know it’s true. If you were real men, you’d be running around the football field with all the other fags. And that [email protected]&king-a-different-girl-every-night-and-then-telling-your-friends-so-they’ll-think-your-straight thing? It doesn’t work. Net: So the moral of the story is … if you’re a man, don’t sleep with women. It means you’re gay.
From Just A Cigar: The front page of the Daily featured a story indicating more students are smoking, followed by another on a lower incidence of syphilis. Clearly, people are having less sex, or at least less dangerous sex, and making up for it with tobacco. Net: Why? Because you can’t masturbate in public.
Aside from the oral stimulation angle (insert obvious Network comment here), Net: There you go, taking all the fun outta this job this points to the stunning conclusion that everyone needs a certain amount of risk in life. The sad part is that we are trading sex for cigarettes, and not in the time-honored literal sense. Net: That only happens in prisons.
When today’s women are in their 80s, they will look back wistfully on all the butts that hit the ground before the emphysema kicked in, when instead they ought to be remembering the times their butts hit the ground. Net: The missionary position, eh? How … quaint. Nicotine is no substitute for endorphins.