Volume 27

Dear commune:

I know her! I know that lady! I do! I know her! That lady, I know her!

That lady, Ella Dipthong, the one who did the This Space for Rent column that one week. I know her. I know that lady. Where do I know her from?

She's too old to have gone to school with. Maybe she's a teacher. Could she come in the Winn-Dixie all the time? Nah, I can't put her in the Winn-Dixie in my mind. But I know her. Shit, where do I know her from? I can't put my fucking finger on it.

Dipthong, Dipthong… Dip-THONG. Shit, I don't know a Dipthong. I know her, though. Where…? Did I spend the night in jail with a Dipthong or something? Not her, but her son maybe? Where did I meet a Dipthong? Shit, I can't think. She doesn't work at the head shop, that lady's last name is Bulaine. Where the fuck did I meet a Dipthong?

Arrrrrgh! Christ, it's too cruel. I know her fucking face, I even heard her name. I just can't place it. Where in the fuck would I meet Ella Dipthong? She ain't no parole officer, I know that, and I've never had her bag my stuff at the Kroger's.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—fuck! I give up, man. No fucking clue. Tell me. Where do I know her from?

Fitz Melbourne
Poulot, MO


Dear Fitz:

Ooooh, man, you were so close. Would a hint help? How about 3 hints? Christmas cards. 1993 Kourtland Family Reunion. Cap'n Crunch Crunchberries.

That's right, Ella Dipthong is in fact the stepmother of Kelly Kourtland, your girlfriend during your junior and senior years of high school. Though she married Kelly's father, George Kourtland, she retains her maiden name, being a cynical control-freak lacking any romanticism. Though you broke up with Kourtland over the summer after your senior year, Ella kept sending you Christmas cards for three years following, and it always hurt just a little bit, didn't it? She once humiliated you at the dinner table when you said your favorite cereal was Cap'n Crunch Crunchberries—is it coming back to you now?

Yes, Fitz, Ella Dipthong in fact was the one to drive the wedge between you and Kelly that would eventually turn your relationship sour. It was Ella who suggested, however correctly, that you had no ambition and ran with a bad crowd, and would never be anything but misery for Kelly. Ella also encouraged Kelly's father George heavily in disapproving of you, even withholding sex a few times until he joined her cause. And shortly after the rocky last year of your relationship, it was Ella's idea that George offer Kelly the new car if she dumped you, which of course she did, but let's face it—it was inevitable, the way you bad-mouthed her in front of your friends and begged for hand-jobs regularly. She just picked the right moment and went home with a new car!

Speaking of new cars, you win nothing today, Fitz. Not the car, not the trip to Maui, not even the lousy copy of our home game since we don't have a home game. If we had a nasty box of Rice-a-Roni lying around we probably wouldn't even give you that. Sorry, but that's the way the ball bounces. What you did earn, Fitz, is the awakening of a memory so old and dormant it's pretty dusty, and that's worth more than money can buy or expensive therapy can quickly heal. Life blows, friend.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for jackets left in the coat room. All items are the responsibility of the owner and, hey, if a few expensive items come up missing from pockets, or the entire coat itself, things like that just happen. What? This coat? No, it's new. I just bought it at Lazarus—ask the manager.

Volume 26
Dear commune: As big a fan as I am, I have to admit I'm a little disappointed with your news lately. At least as far as conspiracy angles go—Red Bagel is the only reliable source in the country, as far as I'm concerned, him and my pharmacist, and... (9/30/02)

Volume 25
Dear commune: By now you realize that your highly coveted and Pulitzer Prize winning reporter, Truman Prudy, is missing. At least we're pretty sure about the Pulitzer Prize part, someone suggested it might actually be a ribbon from the State Fair,... (9/16/02)

Volume 24
Dear commune: Me and my friends think your publication is one of the greatest ever made, for real. We are not kidding when we say your news and reporting are top-notch, and your columnists are insightful and not at all ranting weirdoes. Have you... (9/2/02)

Volume 23
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... (8/19/02)