Dear commune:

Every bulbous-nosed idiot out there knows that rules are made to be broken, so why does the commune insist on its silly, antiquated system of paying its writing staff in nearly obsolete paper money? If the commune’s writers had half the brains we give them credit for here on our commune, they’d protest and demand to be paid in love and durable goods. With maybe some virgins for the real go-getters and top executives, as incentives. In these dark end-times, accepting paper money makes about as much sense as taking on a seventh wife before she reaches the child-bearing age of twelve. Girls younger than that, though delightful and easy on the eye, simply do not have the hip width necessary to successfully give birth. You might as well scatter your seed on a barren plain while you’re at it, ha! The commune staff may have seed to waste, but we here do not. Not when the time of the Great Mumblebump approacheth. Good stead to you, friends.


Ezeikiel Fontaine
Rumble Creek, UT


Dear Exeikiel:

We struggle to find the worlds to adequately thank you for your letter. It has reached us in a time of dire need like a gift from the heavens. We haven’t had a good, hard laugh like that around here in a long time. Hearing Red Bagel read your letter in a funny lisping “religious” voice really brightened our day and provided some much-needed stress relief. You’ll be happy to know that your letter has been blown up to poster size and is now proudly covering the spot in our break room where Ramrod Hurley punched a hole in the wall. Also, we don’t know who told you the commune pays in paper money, but suffice it to say you’re paying too much for your information. the commune has paid its staff in canned goods and karate lessons from day one, as Bagel needs to have the actual cash on hand for shake-downs and bribes for officials who don’t accept canned goods or karate lessons. Good luck on your Circlejerk or whatever it’s called.


the commune


Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for any adverse after-effects from our recent black tie love-in, including but not limited to dementia, genital rash or gradual abdominal swelling. Also, would the staff member who left his or her dentures floating in the “Dunkin’ for Duncan” bowl please stop by and pick them up along with your pink slip.

Volume 22
True, the commune may not have come out of the economic downturn unscathed; After all, few did. And some may argue, rightfully so, that when touring the commune offices the stench of desperation wafts up one’s nose like the smell of stale sweat on a freshly dead corpse.

Volume 21
Since then it has been illegal for guests of any hotel in any country, so decided by the International Terror Conspiracy of Hotel Owners and Operators, to cook in any form or fashion in any room.

Volume 20
We must say, however, we disagree with your statements about humiliating and belittling your customer base. We've had no problems at all with it from the shitheads who read our work.

Volume 19
I and my drinking buddies pledge allegiance to the flag, that one right there, what a grand ol’ flag it is, with the stripes and all.