Volume 29

November 11, 2002

Dear commune:

Just writing in to make you privy to the word, dudes. I just rocked the vote today by voting for that righteous fucker Red Bagel for State Assemblyman. True, I'm not exactly sure what a State Assemblyman is supposed to do, but whatever it is, I'm sure my man Bagel will do the fuck out of it. Whether it's putting shit together that the state needs, like futons and bookcases and all that, or if it's talking in front of a bunch of kids crammed together in a cafeteria, whatever kind of assembly it means I know Bagel's gonna tear it a new asshole, commune style. Shit yeah.

True, I hated assemblies myself when I was a kid, but that was mostly because there wasn't some nut up there talking about Vietnam and doing magic tricks and shit. That's some madness that would have been worth missing a smoke break for. And, come to think of it, I hate putting shit together too, so I'd probably make a pretty lousy Assemblyman myself. But if Bagel gets elected, I've got a coffee table still in the box out in my garage that I could use some help with. Don't even think about welching, dude. I got you elected!

Truth be told, if I'd had my druthers I probably would have voted for my homestyle, Omar Bricks, for State Assemblydude. But unless you wanted to vote for one of those gay-asses they had preprinted on the menu, you had to write in your choice, and I can never remember how many o's there are in Omar. Just in case there was some uptight dick out there named Oomar Bricks, I thought I'd play it safe and vote for the dude named after my breakfast.

Sucks, yeah, but that's politics. Peace Out.

Brian Delaney
Santa Monica, CA

Dear Brian:

Thanks for the word, dude. Red Bagel appreciates your vote and if he voted, we're sure he voted for you, too. And by that we mean that we're sure he didn't vote, since he's scared shitless of those optical scanning machines and the soul maps they can chart using your electromagnetic field, making it possible for the government to tax you again in your dreams.

the commune

Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible, and the ladies find that irresistible. Don't blame us, it's apparently some kind of self-esteem issue.

Milestones

1992: Lil Duncan's alternative band Fuck Off is signed to a major label, on the condition they replace Lil and change their name to The Cranberries.

Now Hiring

Genie. Duties include magically delivering gifts of high monetary and social value on demand. Must have own lamp or bottle, no backtalk. Evil "wish becomes curse"-type genies need not apply.

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Volume 28
dear commune: you guys rock the block, and I mean that sincerely. sometimes I wish I was a part of the commune staff, participating in wacky hijinx on a daily basis and being the butt of hilarious jokes. also, have you guys ever thought of coming... (10/28/02)

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... (10/14/02)

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 goâ€”Red Bagel is the only reliable source in the country, as far as I'm concerned, him and my pharmacist, and... (9/30/02)