Return to Zender (Week 50)

Greetings, communistas. First and foremost, I must apologize for my absence and the hellish disrepair this site has fallen into in said absence. I had an unfortunate run-in with a Taco Bell Volcano Box and have spent the past few months in the loving care of the Shanesly/Rupert Valley Regional Memorial Hospital. Some might argue that four months is a longer than necessary stay for a common case of food poisoning, but just like the anti-drowning safety labels on all the bottled water sold in town say, we like to be careful here in Shanesly. And really there was no harm done, as I’m sure my birthday party magician’s guild insurance will more than cover the expenses.

The story of how all of this happened is far too graphic for young and impressionable readers, but suffice it to say that Volcano box lived up to its name and turned my box into a veritable volcano, overflowing with flaming human effluvia, if by box you understand I mean my asshole. I realize the term is usually reserved for a woman’s vaginal area, but I imagine gay guys or somebody somewhere calls a man’s ass a box as well, so there you go. Here at the commune headquarters, the inmates were left to run the asylum while I was gone, and I suppose it comes as no great shock that the inmates did a real half-assed job of asylum running. It doesn’t look like we’ve published much, but the staff somewhat made up for that by adding a wet, rotting Nerf refrigerator to my back yard, which apparently has a pack of ferrets living inside of it. I’m afraid to ask where that thing came from, or why Nerf ever made flexible, spongy refrigerators. Whatever the reason, now it’s a collapsed floppy mess in the back yard that squeaks menacingly whenever you walk near it.

On the bright side, several more commune regulars wandered blindly back into the fray during my absence. Vernon Hooper accosted Raoul Dunkin at a local Denny’s, mistaking him inexplicably for Rick Santorum. Freelance freeballers Ella Dipthong and Chals Woodland both sent in columns via the teletype system for deaf people that Mitch Kroeger stole from the old folks’ home he had been pretending to be old to live in, rent-free, for the last few years. In other words, we’ve got all your old non-favorites. When it comes to re-configuring the commune, corralling the old staff has proved to be much easier than expected, since they all seem to be drawn to no pay and ill repute like fat, juicy moths to a house-sized bug zapper. Getting them to do their goddamned moth jobs once they’re incapacitated and twitching on the ground is another story entirely. But at least they’re fumbling their way through the door, even when I’m not here to explain that the doggie door is for dogs only and that Mountain Dew Code Red in the fridge is most certainly not for the dog, as evidenced by the jittery red sprays of dog urine everywhere.

I even received a telegram from Red Bagel the other day, which simply read "HE’S COMING." That’s literally what it said, apparently Red still believes in the power of referring to himself in the third person. The telegram was most impressive for the fact that no telegraph services exist any more in modern times, apparently Bagel had to email the message to some local chunkhead, who then typed it out on some telegraph paper he bought at a garage sale.

The excitement around here would be even more palpable if I wasn’t the only one who remembers who Red Bagel is.

Anyway, it’s great to be back. I’d love to say this will never happen again, but Taco Bell has recently added a Dorito-shell taco to their menu, and we both know it’s only a matter of time before that thing is making babies in my stomach. Until then, we here at the commune will endeavor to provide the high degree of timely journalism you are in no way accustomed to from the commune. Set your eyeballs to "stunned"!

Zincerely,
Emil Zender

Return to Zender (Week 24)
Greetings, communistas! Apologies for the long gap in writing, things have been moving too fast and furious here at commune headquarters to allow much time for reflection. I just realized the other day that I’ve been wearing the same pair of socks... (9/26/11)

Return to Zender (Week 8)
Good news, commune fans: You exist! I know, I’d had my doubts as well. But the successful relaunch of the commune proves it: I can barely walk down the street now without being mobbed by commune fans. Maybe "mobbed" is the wrong word, commune fans... (6/7/11)

Return to Zender (Week 2)
First off, I wanted to apologize to our newly loyal readers about the comments form not working, I know some people have been trying to use it but something is messed up the code, so all that comes through is nonsense about Viagra and oatmeal... (4/29/11)

Return to Zender
Hello, friends, and welcome to my dream. My name is Emil Zender and it is my mission in life to reunite the commune, to bring back together what fire hath torn asunder. What's the commune, you ask? Is it possible you have not lived before today? If... (4/22/11)

The National commune Enthusiasts Club
Salutations, truth-hungry nation. I'm happier than a pig in excrement that the commune has gone back to a weekly schedule, and that I'm writing a correspondence for them for the first time in more than a year! Oh, speaking of the pig/excrement... (3/26/07)