11/5/25
The next last big thing
|  Volume 45  June 23, 2003 Dear commune:What’s the deal with my boyfriend? We’ve been together for three months now and he still hasn’t popped the question. I’ve been dropping hints left and right, but he just doesn’t seem to get it. I tore a page out of a wedding ring catalog, with my favorite ring circled, and slipped it into his bowhunting magazine, but he didn’t even notice. And whenever I say we should talk about our future, he says we should wait until all of the sinners have been harvested. I swear, between all his bowhunting and digging holes in the back yard, I’m not sure he’s even thinking about who we could get to cater the reception. Am I just missing the signs that he’s planning a fantastic romantic proposal, or do I need to give him an ultimatum? Sincerely, Confused in Connecticut Dear Confused: The only thing the commune loves more than a romantic ultimatum is a jailhouse wedding, so we say go for it! Most serial killers are afraid to commit, so be sure you catch him at the right time. Laying your cards on the table while he’s bathing in the blood of the vanquished or making a shish-ka-bob of eyeballs might just cause him to retreat into his emotional cave, or set him off on a tri-state killing spree, and then you won’t see him for weeks. Hit him up while he’s on a manic swing, maybe after he’s been reading about his exploits in the local paper. But act quick! Winning a man’s heart is all about timing, plus the FBI is combing your letter for fiber evidence as we speak. the commune Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for any lives we may have directly or indirectly ruined along the way. Staring in the rearview is no way to live your life, honey. Quote of the Day“Fascism is not the devices and mechanisms that force us to our knees, but those who operate in the shadows and convince us "on our knees" is the place we're born. And the first seed of fascism is rent.”-Crosby in 3F, every first of the month Fortune 500 CookieToday is not your day, buddy—by a horrible bit of luck, your day was exactly six weeks before you were conceived. The good news is you look a lot like William Daniels; the bad news is that doesn't pay much these days. Watch out Thursday, when you're nearly buried in a deluge of Fangoria magazines that have been building up in your closet. Lucky numbers? You want luck? Eat me, sadsack.Try again later. Top Nicknames for Each Toe
 Volume 44 Dear commune: Aren’t you just tired of all this bullshit? Reggie Shaw Dove Plains, GA Dear Reggie: We know exactly what you’re talking about. Those fussy pricks downstairs at Crochet! magazine need to be put in their... (6/1/03) Volume 43 Dear commune: As the old parable goes, "God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt." If truer words were ever spoken, I don’t know them. They probably weren’t spoken to me. What I’m getting at is, my girlfriend is an atheist. As you can imagine,... (5/26/03) Volume 42 Dear commune: Well, she’s all you’d ever want, she’s the kind I’d like to flaunt and take to dinner. She always knows her place, she’s got style, she’s got grace, she’s a winner. She’s a lady. Talking about Ivana Folger-Balzac here.... (5/12/03)            |
Reproduction in hole or in parts without permission is likely to piss off her dad big time.