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02/16/26   
We all scream for iced tea

Volume 50

bio/email
September 1, 2003
Dear commune:

How come we don’t have no national holidays for stuff that’s happened while I was alive? Was the past so great we’ve really got to be celebrating that junk all the time? Gimmie a break. I don’t even like the president, what am I supposed to do on President’s Day? Go to work by myself? Fat chance. We should have a "Remember When the Cubs Won the Pennant?" day or a "Joey Knocked Up That Hot Blonde Who Works Down at the Bottling Plant" day. That’d be fun. I’d vote for it, if I voted. But if I thought I was filling out a rebate for batteries and then it turned out I was voting on accident, then forget that! Because shame on you guys for tricking me. Damn. So pass it on.

Yours,

Jack Hargraves
Hell’s Belt, NV



Dear Jack:

Wow, it’s rare that the commune receives a letter with that level of thought, or motor oil, put into it. We thank you for taking the time to dig a piece of scrap paper out of your trunk and writing to us. And we think you’ll be pleased to know that we here at the commune celebrate holidays for any conceivable reason, including "Lil Duncan Negative Prego Test Day" and "Griswald Dreck Says It’s Bastille Day Day." It doesn’t take much to get us out of the office and into a dry martini, let’s just say that. Or a keg filched from some uppity needlepoint magazine’s office party, whatever it takes. So you’re in good company Jack, as long as you don’t ever show up here or write us again. We’ll be sure to add "Remember When the Cubs Didn’t Suck Day" and "Joey’s Fucked Now Day" to our office calendar.

the commune



Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for any of the many creative ways your lover left you, we were just humming that song in the elevator and it appeared to strike a chord. So please, give the commune a break, Jake.


Quote of the Day
“No man is an island. But I have met several women I would like to live on for the rest of my life.”

-John Donne Juan
Fortune 500 Cookie
By the pricking of my thumb I have really fucked up my keyboard playing. Trust in a higher power this week—the Waffle King knows what he's doing. Why be merely happy when you could be shit-yer-drawers happy? The world is you oyster, which explains that nauseating fish smell you can't escape. Lucky hammers roofing, jack, ball peen, MC.


Try again later.
Least-Popular Halloween Handouts
1.Jesus Tarts
2.Sock full of pennies
3.Shnuckers; like Snickers, but filled with delicious Shmucker's jam
4.Asked to open bag, close eyes; smart-ass farts into sack
5.Everlasting Never-Ending Irradiated Gobstopper
Archives
Volume 49
Dear commune: Maybe you can settle a bet for my buddy Steve and me. Say two guys are shocking each other in the nutsack with a cattle prod, with the agreement that whoever passes out first loses the bet and has to buy the other guy some chili... (8/18/03)

Volume 48
Dear commune: the commune’s coverage of the war in Bosnia has been nothing short of commendable. Objective? No. But objectivity is a quality far overvalued in our current society. A steaming dog turd on the side of the road is objective. But not... (8/4/03)

Volume 47
Dear commune: Who pooped on the commune’s parade lately? Talk about a bunch of sad sacks and down-about-the-facers! What this gang needs is some crisp, refreshing lemonade! What could be better than liquid refreshment on a hot summer day?... (7/21/03)

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