merica’s nuts were chapped a bright red this week with news that former FBI second-in-command W. Mark Felt, 91, had come out of hiding to end a 30-year mystery, announcing that he was Deep Throat, star of the semenal porn film that took the country by storm in 1972.

Americans from all walks of life gagged at the news and the sight of Felt, who has aged poorly since his starring role as the sex kitten known for her plucky personality and propensity for swallowing rod all the way down to the balls.

Despite lacking establishment distribution or any tangible evidence of a script, the 1972 film Deep Throat was a gigantic hit, inspiring excessive repeat business from about a dozen guys who couldn’t get enough of the erotic “art film.� Even a lawsuit from the Sword Swallowers’ Guild over the film’s title couldn’t slow the movie’s success, and it went on to gross over $600 million in musty theaters nationwide.

Over the years, “film buffs� and conspiracy theorists have debated endlessly over Deep Throat’s identity, concocting a long list of likely suspects including White House counsels John Dean and Fred Fielding, speechwriter Pat Buchanan, and Nixon chief of staff Alexander Haig, who colleagues admit looks particularly fetching in a halter top and g-string bikini.

For readers who vomited during that last paragraph, hope remains that this could all be one big misunderstanding. Some have suggested that Felt wasn’t Deep Throat at all, and is merely a sad old man grasping at his last stab at fame before he kicks it. Though such strange sex fantasies coming from an old man may strike some as unlikely, in fact it is not an unusual syndrome, as can be documented by Dr. Nikolai Balsvet of the McClurg Institue.

“Many older gentlemen Mr. Felt’s age have a tendency to confuse porn with reality,� explained Balsvet. “They often re-imagine their lives as tawdry purveyors of humiliating sexual excess, cum-dumpsters, cock-hungry hose hounds drooling for shaft, feeling no shame in their fevered pursuit of raw Johnson.�

“It’s not unusual for a man of Mr. Felt’s age to mistake his life story for that of a dirty slut who spent her life begging for smoking hot man missile,� agreed Dr. Lou Morales of the mail-order clinic. “Most elderly men go through a similar phase. I’ve based my entire practice just treating geriatrics who think they were Traci Lords.�

Industry insiders confirm this trend, pointing out that the 40-year reunion parties for most porn films are attended by more elderly former accountants than they are dried up post-hotties with silicone bags bouncing off their sneakers.

“Back in my day, I couldn’t get enough of the dong,� explained retiree Elmer Bainbridge, purported female star of the 1964 porn epic Muffin-Stuffin’ 3. “I was insatiable,� added Bainbridge, coughing up something wet and abundant into a handkerchief.

Felt’s family is standing behind the former FBI official in spite of the controversy.

“I love my dad regardless of whether he’s a delusional old fart or a former gutter-slut blowjob queen,� explained proud daughter Joan Felt to the media. “Those are all just different sides of the man I call dad.�

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If your e-mail last week was slower in arriving than Delta Burke squeezing through the eye of a needle, you may have read the reason why. Unless you get your news from the Internet, in which case you're probably still waiting for the page to load. But then, how in the hell are you reading the commune? Looks like I've caught you in your little ruse.

But that still doesn't explain the Internet slow down. The papers (or news monitors) like to confuse the big fat lazy audience (yourselves) with talk of "viruses" and "Internet worms" and all of that nonsense, but those of you who have any experience with the Internet know two things: Always spell the Internet with a capital "I," and always seek alternative sources of news in this corporate-dominated world.

It pays to get a second opinion. In this case, the talk of computer worms and vicious Internet programs is merely to confound you while they find a way to exterminate the real nuisance: Phone line fleas.

That's right, fleas. Why do fleas live on dogs' asses? It's not for the premiere location, let me tell you. Everyone knows fleas seek thick, luscious hair to live in; like my own. But washing your hair even once a week (when it's possible, we don't all have a lot of free time) can keep your hair free of fleas. And there must be more people out there doing this than me, since dogs have become flea havens rather than human heads. But even dogs get baths, which leaves the life of a flea a lot like the life of a hobo—as one cartoon from my youth excellently depicted.

The solution? If you're a flea and seeking relatively safe, unwashed hairy places your options are extremely limited, with France being so far across the ocean. But fortunately, the United States is refurbishing its phone lines with a brand new product called fiber optics. That's right—fiber optics. As in hairy phone lines. A flea's dream.

Scientists who study the behavior of fleas, and surely there must be some kind of creature like that out there, would quickly realize fleas have been taking to the phone lines in the past four years as they've become flea-friendly places to reside. The dogs are happy about it, I'm sure—I see tails wagging; but what about us Internet-using humans? It's left us with crowded fiber optic lines to contend with, and even the expanded bandwith capabilities can only handle so many fleas and baud-per-minute or whatever the nerds say.

My first encounter with fleas occupying the phone lines occurred back when I maintained my site, www.poopoftheday.com. I experienced countless hours of downtime and even my AOL ISP support couldn't explain the problem. My website host tech support stayed on the phone with me for hours, even after several attempts to convince me he had other things to do. He tried to sell me on the idea of viruses, worms, being severely incompetent and not knowing what was going on, which was all just a lame attempt to get me off the phone. Then he admitted the line was occupied by fleas, explained the fiber optic thing, and said he was looking into finding a way to destroy them—then the phone cut off. Apparently the fleas had gotten into even the voice lines. I tried calling back, to no avail.

Is there any answer to this unanswered problem? No, I just said there wasn't. I'm sure leading service providers are seeking Internet-safe flea-repellent cable lines, and they're probably working with the Hartz people on it, but until then, we're just going to have to deal with the slow-downs. Unless you want to start giving your phone lines baths, and I'm not about to do that.

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Dear commune:

Ed Phillips here again. I've recently returned a little wiser from the Middle East. Like most Americans, I assumed the problem was simply based in religious differences and the insurmountable tumultuous history between Islamic and Jewish religions. I was more surprised than anybody to find out it was all over a hotel bill for a room shared by Ziggy Morgenstern and Al-Adid Shabozz back in 1967. I offered to pay the bill myself, it was only $34, but leaders on both sides were quick to stress it wouldn't make a difference. It was all the principle.

Needless to say, that started me thinking: How come you're not allowed to cook in motel or hotel rooms? It seems an incredible infringement on my rights as an American to not let me fry up some eggs and bacon on a hot plate in my own hotel room, making me survive on their continental breakfast alone. I'm not talking open-flame bonfires, believe me, I've learned my lesson after that fire three years ago. But even simple electric outlet appliance cooking is outlawed. Doesn't seem right.

I have recently collapsed the ass-section of my pants, though I hope they are repairable. I'll keep you informed on this situation as more progresses.

Ed Phillips
Hackensack, New Jersey


Dear Ed:

Thanks for the letter, and please keep us informed on the whole ass/pants story as it develops.

According to our Research Editor Griswald Dreck: "The war between hotels/motels and in-room cooking dates back to 1647, when the first motel room fire was recorded starting in Ye Olde Two-Pence Inn, by a peasant guest who burned down six rooms in the inn with a small pocketfire for cooking grouse.

"Since then it has been illegal for guests of any hotel in any country, so decided by the International Terror Conspiracy of Hotel Owners and Operators, to cook in any form or fashion in any room. Part of it is fear of another hotel/motel fire, but a lot of it is because this gigantic conspiracy is just a bunch of dicks who are slow to forget grudges. In fact, it's proven that 92% of Americans are all descended from the dillhole who started the fire at the Ye Olde Two-Pence, Augustus Winterturd. So thanks to this grade-A medieval jackass we're all denied the pleasure of a hotplate-cooked hot dog, even in our enlightened age. Tough luck. Maybe if we all promise to not steal an abundance of towels, soaps, and shampoos, maybe order a few more in-room movies, they'll start giving us a little more leeway in this situation."

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for the repeated publishing of letters by Ed Phillips. He sends us about 75 a month, so really, you're getting a fair statistical representative of our reality.

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