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07/15/25   
Land of the freaks, home of the babes

Volume 41

bio/email
April 28, 2003
Dear commune:

You ever get the feeling that someone’s constantly watching you, monitoring your every move, censoring your every word? Like a cold, oppressive hand is closing around your windpipe as you speak? Like every freedom you’ve taken for granted is eroding away like a life raft made out of table salt? Like the cold bicycle seat of injustice is stuck to your ass and upper thighs? Is it just me? Am I just paranoid? Or can someone else out there feel my pain?

Sincerely,

Dabney Koonz
Bellknob, TX



Dear Dabney:

We here at the commune can most definitely relate to your feelings. If you think living under the oppressive yolk of a braindead cowboy regime with little regard for public opinion or world unity is tough, try getting a paid vacation day approved by Red Bagel or his stooge of a lapdog, Ramrod Hurley. Now try doing both at once, it’s like a double-decker club sandwich of shit. Our only reprieve is the fact that neither the powers that be in this country nor the powers that be at the commune care much for reading, so we can speak our minds as long as we don’t ever form those ideas into a slapstick cartoon with mass appeal or a country song. So, in short, Dabney: No, you’re not paranoid. The world really does have your ass in a cold metal vise.

However, we couldn’t help but notice that your letter comes to us from the fine state of Texas. So, in all likelihood you weren’t talking about the government at all, you were probably just recently married. In that case: Don’t worry, those feelings will pass in time. Eventually either you or your spouse will die, and you’ll feel a lot better. Thanks for your letter.


the commune



Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for all those cheetos ground into the carpet in the break room. We think we saw some dudes with turbans snacking in there the other day, swear to God. They looked a little Syrian to us, if that helps.


Quote of the Day
“I never met a man I didn't like, want to kill.”

-Dill "California Angst" Wongers
Fortune 500 Cookie
You will fall in love with a new douche this week, a fact that unfortunately has nothing at all to do with feminine hygiene. Try to pay more attention to your figure: word on the street is you're upgrading from "pear-shaped" to "sack of shit-y." You will finally come to understand the phrase "fifteen men on a dead man's chest" this week, thanks to an unfortunate dogpile mishap. Your lucky perfumes: Colonic for Men, Goat's Dong, Eau Du Crapper.


Try again later.
Top 5 commune Features This Week
1.Drug Free Vs. Free Drugs
2.Twins: God's Mistake
3.Uncle Macho's Flaming Tequichela
4.A Fair and Balanced Look at Albino Tightrope Walkers
5.Warm Weather: Who Needs It?
Archives
Volume 40
Dear commune: Thanks for standing up for me back at the bar, dickcheese. I thought we were friends. Sincerely, Randy Moate Riverview, KS Dear Randy: Though we appreciate your mail, we must stress the fact that the commune is a news... (4/14/03)

Volume 39
Dear commune: Chuck Weinert writing in to say that I crap bigger than you. I mean that literally and it’s a serious problem in my life. I’ve gone through three divorces and countless trailer homes because of this problem, and I’ve been... (3/31/03)

Volume 38
Hello commune: I really admire Mr. Robert Wadlow. He was of incredible height. He was huge but looked very friendly. I am only 5'5" and believe me, I am really disappointed with myself. If only I could grow a little bit taller. Mr Wadlow was so... (3/17/03)

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