Volume 7

November 12, 2001

Dear commune:

I have a bone to pick with you, commune. It's about time someone stood up and stated the obvious: the commune's mascot, Poopey Chalupa, is a shameful and offensive stereotype that cheapens, exploits and degrades the fine heritage of the people of Mexico. And if you're reading this out loud, you'd best be sure to pronounce that "Mey-heeco" to avoid further damage to these fine people.

Shame on you, commune: this kind of schoolyard tomfoolery is beneath you and frankly I expected more from the publication that has brought us the wit and wisdom of Tom Turkel's "Home Town" for more than 20 years. You may consider this formal notice of the cancellation of my subscription.

Beth Romerlaud
Pierce Mountain, Delaware

Dear Beth:

The commune shares your outrage at the exploitation of helpless minorities, unless they're on our payroll. No one here will soon forget the intolerance and hatred bred by shows like Taxi and Perfect Strangers in years past, and we have no interest in breeding further misconceptions, or rabbits. However, we regret to inform you that Poopey Chalupa does not work here; in actuality he is the mascot for El ComÃºn, the newsletter of the annual Mexico City street bazaar. Have you seen our mascot, lady? We'd kill to get that cute little sombrero-wearing rascal.

Furthermore, Tom Turkel's "Home Town" has never appeared on the commune, and it never will; not so long as he keeps putting on airs like he's better than everyone and has a special need for medical and dental coverage.

Lastly: though we don't sell subscriptions to the commune, we'd be happy to cancel yours and send a bill immediately. Thanks for your letter, and we'll be sending a box of rabbits to help ease your liberal guilt. Feel free to keep them as pets or eat them or whatever bizarre kinds of shit you people do.

the commune

Dear commune:

Yeah, I've got a question for you. If all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream, then why the hell won't my Chevy start? Normally when I have a dream it's something like I've got a chicken head where my penis is supposed to be or my mother-in-law is trying to give my dog an enema. Never anything about a blown head gasket or scored pistons. What gives?

John John Fridley
Elmwood, Texas

Dear John John:

Like most teenage English majors, it appears that you've confused poetry with reality. If life were truly a dream within a dream, your letter would have been from the commune's ex-girlfriend, confessing that she really did steal the commune's CDs and the commune's Notre Dame sweatshirt. There is an upside, however: that bird that's been following you around isn't really a nagging reminder of your lost love, it just wants some of the beef jerky in your pocket.

the commune

Dear commune:

I'm dick and tired of hearing the stereotype that all men are obsessed with sex and that they can't help but think about tit every ten seconds. Sure, some guys may be certified hooter hounds, but that doesn't mean the chest of us are just helpless dogs, salivating at the taut of glimpsing naked female flesh. It's unfair to hump us in with that fist group, when we as a sex have cum so far. I'm a head-blooded American male, boner of a healthy sex drive, but I ride myself on being capable of suck things as intelligent thought and higher brainal function, and I think moist men are, ass well.

I thrust that we're in agreement on this topless.

Kent Boobner
Knobjob, New York

Dear Kent:

You have a good point there, Kent. Good fuck with your crusade, and spank you for riding.

the commune

Editor's Note: the commune news would like to issue a warm greeting to our new scab tiny-type writers, even though it feels kind of weird to issue a warm greeting to yourself. But what the hell, they pay better than Stride Rite.

Milestones

1983: Night Ranger releases seminal hit Sister Christian, inspiring the unfortunate tone-deaf singalong by Ivan Nacutchacokov that resulted in his lifetime Greyhound bus ban.

Now Hiring

Cowboy Bebop. Not really sure what this is, to be honest, but Red Bagel telegrammed to demand we hire one. Two if they come in a matched set. So there you go.

Top Things Overheard at Your High School Reunion

1.	"Oh My Godâ€”you haven't changed your clothes a bit!"
2.	"I haven't seen you since the date rape."
3.	"Man, were you right about Dishwalla. One-hit wonders."
4.	"Best friends 4-ever, my ass! Where were you at the trial, motherfucker?!?"
5.	"That guy used to be a real dick. Don't let that priest outfit fool you."
6.	"You still owe me four push-ups, wiseguyâ€”don't think I've forgotten."
7.	"Want to dance with me, Charlie? Or is it Charlene now?"
8.	"The old gymnasium still smells like burned fleshâ€”what memories!"
9.	"So tell me why we needed to learn proofs again?"
10.	"Mr. 'Most Likely to Succeed' came into Denny's last night for an application. Revenge, like our soup, is best served cold."

Volume 6
Dear commune: I'm not sure who to ask, but I had a question. When was the commune founded? Kenny Myson, Boston, Massachusetts Dear Kenny: That's different for each person. Only you can say when you found it, and new people are... (10/29/01)

Volume 5
Dear commune: I feel a little dumb even asking this, but since the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks I've been plagued in my mind with the same question: Why can't the U.S.A. find Osama bin Laden? He is only one man and Afghanistan is a country smaller... (10/15/01)

Volume 4
Dear commune: Damn. Damn, damn, damn. I just learned the word damn. If there's one thing I hate, commune, it's being limited to hating just one thing. There are so many ugly things out there to hate. Why did it take me so long to learn the word... (10/1/01)

Volume 3
Dear commune: I feel you've gone too far to the extreme once again. "Gun Control" is just another liberal name for over-regulation. Every American is shocked and stunned by the outbreak of violence in the workplace and our schools. Yet I... (9/1/01)