Oh, Pollyanna, you seem to have dropped your eyeball

[Reverend Joe]

Oh where is my summer? Although the calendar indicates it is near, the sky itself, where a good deal of the summer actually happens, does not indicate an impending approach. All that appears imminent is a nip of rain, just enough to keep the weeds growing and the drivers incompetent.

As my body continues to process the Chinese delicacies of last night, turning the crab cheese wontons into bubbly thigh fat with which to turn away the ladies, I sit in front of the screen checking my many and varied social websites, pausing every so often to update blogs. I am low on metaphors at present, so I will present some of my old material, which appeared in "The Noise" in February 2005. I was editor at the time, hence the references to "NEd". We didn't ever get enough letters, so I just made them up. Enjoy:

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Dear The NEd:

I am in no way related to Mel Gibson. And, to further illustrate this point, he is a Catholic, while I am a Scorpio. He likes caviar; I like Froot Loops. He likes champagne; I like Metamucil.
So it alarmed me when I recently opened up your pages to find a picture of Gibson, surrounded by wolves, wearing a loincloth and a belly-shirt that said “Will Work for Salvation”. Who makes up this rubbish? And do you actually pay them for it?
I could get hammered, shove pencils up my various orifices, and strike randomly at my keyboard with a ball peen hammer and come up with better crap than THAT schmuck. It’s time you fired that joker and hired a REAL man, like Donny Osmond, who’d at least have had the dignity to wear SANDALS for such a picture. Shape up, chumps, or face the unpleasant possibility that I may not read your paper for a couple issues!

Freudically,

Oswald P. Anklebiter



Dear The NO:

Come on. Where is it? Your Dean joke of the month? You seem obsessed with making a mockery of the man on an issue-by-issue basis, so I’m looking and looking, but I still don’t see it.

Expectantly,

Jacob G. Cameltoe

Dear J. Netherregion: Why would we make fun of a goober such as Dean forever and ever? Eventually, it has to stop. He’s really a remarkable individual, what with his furry & spindly little legs, his overanimated rabbit-like leaps, and his unfashionable homages to the Scottish bodily décor. What a swell guy. Just super. JUST SUPER.



Dear The Noise:

I like sausages.

Lovingly,

Ferdinand Q. Lickenbootie

Dear Gluteus Sampler: Thanks, that letter – although incredibly stupid – did manage to fill up the remainder of the open space in this issue. Give yourself a pat on the asterisk-percent-ampersand.