Dear commune:

Maybe you can settle a bet for my buddy Steve and me. Say two guys are shocking each other in the nutsack with a cattle prod, with the agreement that whoever passes out first loses the bet and has to buy the other guy some chili fries, right? Okay, now if you shock Steve in the nuts and he screams like a girl so loud that you pass out from surprise, do you still lose the bet even though you never got your nuts shocked? Steve thinks you do, but I think he’s full of shit and has been sitting on a bag of ice too long. Is the commune a bunch of lesbo-bangers from the Steve camp or do you see my point?

Sincerely,

Artie Duchamp
Flatskull, NJ

Dear Artie:

Cattle prods? What are you guys, a couple of seven-year-old girls in floral-patterned dresses at a tea party? You sure you guys aren’t pulling our legs? Because we doubt you really have the nuts to shock, nice try ladies. Any two guys who were really serious about a snack-bar wager like that would take turns stuffing their nuts into a power outlet, and the first one who’s blown out the window loses. “Passing out” is pussyese for feinting, as any southern debutante knows. Quit wasting the commune’s time and write us back when you have some local press clippings to enter as evidence.

the commune

Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for any property or nutsack damage caused by the commune’s own brand of dubious advice. By reading this website you have agreed to the legal release that is encoded, Beautiful Mind-style, randomly throughout the site’s text and images. And just try to disprove that, brainiac.

Volume 48
It seems that office gaywad Raoul Dunkin penned a half-assed Successory quote on the back of your letter and has been carrying it around with him for years, both for inspiration and in hopes of getting it made into a poster, superimposed over a soft-focus photo of geese in flight.

Volume 47
Listen kid, if we wanted any of your fucking lemonade we would have bought some already instead of sending Ivana Folger-Balzac downstairs to kick your pitcher over and break your sign in half. Can’t you take a goddamned hint?