Volume 63

Hey commune:

Yo commune, I gots to get me a girlfriend, and pronto, dog! If I don’t get these boots knocked soon, my jizzbag’s gonna bust on me, yo. I ain’t playin’ dog, this is some serious shit. So what you say? You gonna hook me up or what?

"Teabag" Darnell
Wynalotte, Texas

Dear Teabag:

Though few can deny the serious threat this issue poses to your jizzbag, we here at the commune are far more concerned with the photograph you sent in with your letter. We assume it’s either of you, an example of the kind of girl you want us to find for you, or a panicked evidence shot of a rare urban Sasquach. Whichever is the case, consider yourself triply screwed. But we’ll make you a deal, Darnell. You get Bush out of office for us and we’ll see to it that you get hooked up with a Sasquach-fetishizing-freak lover. Either that or Lil Duncan. Because if we have to put up with this Bush shit much longer, our jizzbag be gonna blow, yo.

the commune

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Dear commune:

Inquiring commune readers want to know: boxers or briefs?
Lois Arbuckle
Panhands, Oklahoma

Dear Lois:

Though we here at the commune love all kinds of dogs, we must admit to being partial to snack-sized dogs like the Chihuahua or the Bansai. True, a larger dog like a Great Dane or a Mastiff can easily feed a family of four, but who in the city has a freezer that big? You’re talking about a serious waste of dog meat there, unless you open a cart to sell Gyros on the street. But believe you us, getting a permit for one of those things is a serious bitch.

the commune

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Dear commune:

Boris Utzov must be stopped! As foretold in the Bible, this man is the harbinger of great doom, the amiable fool who shall lead them astray to the ruination of all mankind! And that English! If a pure soul cannot be found (obviously outside of the commune offices) to stop this great devil outright, would it kill you guys to at least get that motherfucker hooked on phonics or something? Damn.

Ole Carpathiam
Turnstile, Nebraska

Dear Ole:

While we agree that Boris must be stopped, our main goal is to get him to stop bringing his nasty Eastern European lunch meats in here. The man hasn’t been in our offices in nearly a year, and the break room still stinks like rotten Chernobyl ferret. As for Boris’ English, we weren’t aware he actually spoke any English, so this is great news to us. Now we can finally fire that interpreter and parlay the financial savings into about 400 of those car deodorizer trees to hang in the break room.

the commune

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Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for your lack of credibility in the scientific community. For an explanation of that one, we refer you to the time you glued a bunch of dildos onto a horse and then claimed to have genetically engineered a new species of giant porcupine. Just a thought.

Volume 62
Dear commune: Can you keep a secret? I’m secretly in love with my boss. Nobody knows except me, my cat, and the commune. What should I do? Marcy Gaybridge Hook, Vermont Dear Marcy: Though our advice may seem unconventional and... (2/28/05)

Volume 61
Dear commune: I read a preview copy of Kitty Kelley’s upcoming biography of Red Bagel, which I regularly do in the course of my job—read other people’s mail. I couldn’t believe some of the stories she tells. It’s a disgrace. However,... (9/20/04)

Volume 60
Dear commune: Why won’t the commune publish my columns? Sure, I may not be popular like Emil Zender, or possess the mouth-wateringly luscious honeydews of an Ella Dipthong, but I’m okay in the sack. At least I imagine, I’ve never done it with... (3/15/04)