M o n d a y M u d
Volume Uno Issue 25, October 4th, 1999
loose translation...
" Please don't send any of your filthy
weed to:
"Carp 18
PO Box 21066
Mpls, MN 55421"
Okay here's the deal, I was actually sitting down before my computer before 10 PM on Sunday night ready to write my best column yet when the phone rings, it's just some friends of mine that say,"Hey, what's the matter man? We're gonna come around at twelve with some Puerto Rican girls that are just dyin' to meet you.We're gonna bring a case of wine, hey, let's go mess and fool around, you know, like we used to."
Damn, I promised myself I wouldn't do that shit anymore! My fault ... I've been listening to too much classic rock on the radio lately and I keep having these attacks where classic rock lyrics jump out of me like I have Tourette Syndrome, Rock & Roll Pneumonia and the Boogie Woogie Flu all wrapped up into one big freakin' laser light show extrava-gonzo. Fortunately it lasts but a brief second and then everything's cool, in fact, it's as cold as ice and I'm willing to sacrifice our Mud, cos heck, I never take advice, and who knows, maybe someday I'll pay the price, I know, I've seen it before, it happens all the time.
Okay, so let me get back to takin' care of business here. The phone rings and it happens to be some acquaintances of mine who like to dash out for a movie on the spur of a moment on a Sunday night. It's like you have all weekend but it always ends up this way. Right around the 10-zone you think yer in the clear so you put on your ratty bathrobe and the fuzzy slippers, apply the dolphin-safe cold cream to your face, put a couple slices of cucumbers on your eyes, kick back for a little late-night writing and maybe catch a bit of that Ron Schara Outdoor program and then say to yourself, "How the hell can I see the monitor with these fuckin' pickles on my eyes?"
So, I pick up the receiver and there's a panic-stricken voice saying "American Beauty at the Coon Rapids Showplace 16 at 10:35, think we can make it?"
And I'm, like, "Yeah, just let me take fuckin' Gedney kosher dills off my irises, throw a pair of moccasins on and I'm there."
"Gather T., you're not gonna wear that ratty bathrobe again are you?"
"What? Hell no!" as the cordless phone ends up in my armpit while I pull on my 2-sizes-too-small "Home of the Whopper" T-shirt. "Oh by the way," I add, "you're not talking about that 'boy meets pie' movie are you?"
"No man, that's American Pie. This is American Beauty with Kevin Spacey."
"Oh yeah, I heard that's real good, is it about the Grateful Dead ... or roses ... or something?"
"No, it's about a fortysomething suburban guy who has a reaction against his false and meaningless life and starts smoking a lot of weed, desiring younger women and trying to somehow regain the spirit, hope and excitement of his youth."
<<Pause>>
"What is this? Some kind of candid camera thing? Have you guys been video taping me or something?"
So, to make a long story short, we went and now it's, like, 3:00 in the morning and I'm just trying to bang out a 55-minute column like Soucheray. Except he gets paid, and I'll bet his readers send him weed.
I just want to thank everybody for being so cooperative and NOT sending me any weed in care of:
Carp 18
PO Box 21066
Mpls, MN 55421
Yeah, just like I urged you not to. Yeah, that was really great, I'm really happy about that. I was so nervous as I drove down Central Ave. to the Post Office just hoping to hell nobody sent any weed to:
Carp 18
PO Box 21066
Mpls, MN 55421
It was such a relief when I opened the box, with the number 21066 on it (at the 55421 zip zone) and found nothing but a Cub Foods flyer, another insurance bill that has been going to this box by mistake since early 1997 and a fucking bill from the Post Office to pay for this PO Box.
So, again, I just want to thank everyone for understanding my plea when I say, "Please don't send me any weed in care of:
Carp 18
PO Box 21066
Mpls, MN 55421
I normally don't require any additional reading assignments to all the faithful, wonderful Mud readers but I was thinking it might be a good idea if this week everyone pick up a copy of "Brer Rabbit : From the Collected Stories of Joel Chandler Harris" there's the funniest story where B'rer Rabbit keeps saying "Whatever you do, don't throw me in the Briar Patch." It's kind of a reverse-psychology thing where he really DOES want to be thrown in the Briar Patch, because, well, I guess that's where he does his finest work. Anyway, no big deal, it's just some fun reading (but you might want to disregard some of the other stories with its 19th-century American values).
As I approach the midpoint of my 52-issue contract I realize that my attempt to write, what some may call satire, has been aborted. I gave it a shot but every time I think I'm going out on a limb I soon realize that truth, is indeed, stranger than fiction.
Yes, I'm talking about the Jesse Ventura interview in Playboy. How can I top this shit? Write a fake interview where he admits his desire to be reincarnated as what? A size 40-DDD bra? That's it, I'm done. From now on, the Mud will be an advice column.
I've been receiving quite a bit of email from people who have questions, some serious, some perhaps facetious, I don't know, I've never been able to tell the difference between the two. I don't even know if they're "real" or not because on the Internet, a lot of people use these goofy "handles" or "screen names" that give them some sort of anonymity. You'd never catch me resorting to such tactics but that's just me, Gather T. Swanson, fictional philosopher of the night.
Anyway, it's sort of cheap "Carp 18-like" trick to open up the ol' mailbag but here goes....
Oh yeah, this is my one chance to keep my words to a minimum and let the people do the typing ...
Dear Gather T.:
Do you recommend Reddi-Wip brand? Or is the Flav-o-rite just as good?
Sincerely,
Bargain Shopper
(ckataan@aol.com)
I'd rather not discuss aerosol toppings ever since I saw "A Night at the Roxbury."
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Dear Gather T.:
When are you going to let Gus Grimstone fill in for you again? That's one bad-ass mf.
Sincerely,
G.G.
(luvmachine1028@aol.com)
This question reminds me of the riddle:
Q: What do
you feed a 500 lb. gorilla?
A: Whatever it wants!
Send in your manuscript, just don't hurt me!
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Dear Gather T.:
What's all the hype about DVD? Should I
shell out the $399 and an extra $10
bucks a movie just to watch it a second time while listening to the director
tell me how he set up every shot?
Signed,
O. Stone
(grassyknoll@aol.com)
Believe me, it's worth every penny just to hear the sound of a gurgling water pipe during the director's comments of JFK.
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Dear Gather T.:
I'd like to break into the lucrative world of Web Humor Column Publishing.
What advice can you give?
Signed,
D. Barry
(dbarry@miamiherald.com)
First of all, it helps if you're funny, especially if you're considered the funniest man in America. Whatever you do, don't move to Miami, it must kill any sense of humor you may have, look what it did to Gleason and that guy who writes a column in the Echoland Shopper.
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Dear Gather T.:
What's the firing order of a Dodge slant
six? I was replacing my plug wires
and I think I got a couple mixed up.
Sincerely,
Mr. Goodwrench
(socket2me@aol.com)
Why don't you come over to my garage for a séance and we'll get an answer on that one.
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Dear Gather T.:
Did you really give up the weed, or was that just
a ruse to throw the bosses
over at Circle Producer's international off your trail? P.S. is that
address in Columbia Heights really your P.O. Box? I've got some Sinsemilla
that would knock the fur off of a Sasquatch.
Sincerely,
Bruce (no last name or city, please)
(bjhunnicut@aol.com)
No ... I mean yes, maybe, yes, call me.
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Dear Gather T.:
Does George Corporal really exist, or is
he like a Mr. Whipple or the Maytag
Repairman, a fictional yet lovable corporate icon?
Sincerely,
Judy Corporal
(jcorporal@glassservice.com)
George hasn't been home much lately, huh?
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Dear Gather T.:
Does James Lileks really exist, or is he
like a Mr. Whipple or the Maytag
Repairman, a fictional yet lovable corporate icon?
Signed,
Budd Rugg
(dshelby@channel4000.com)
Umm, yeah ... I'm not sure how to reply while being so not-stoned ... it's just that the Budd Rugg name threw me for a second because it means that one fictional writer would be responding to a question from another fictional writer pretending to be yet another fictional writer who's asking for his fictional opinion about a real writer who might not actually be real and it threw me for another second whether it was an ethical thing to do as opposed to publishing quotes from Jesse, Arnold and various banjo players from Alabama that they really never made although with only a handful of people reading it there may be little to worry about yet it is on the world-wide web connected to a band who never actually performs in public and can't give their CDs away though they work their lives around this mission of blind faith for a reason that is unknown to all involved because having deep discussions about common goals is for losers!
I really need to get some weed fast to keep this stuff straight!
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Dear Gather T.
My question for you is two words: Backstreet Boys?
Sincerely,
Puzzled
(dcassidy@aol.com)
My answer for you is six words (one hyphenated word plus a couple sound effects): (sffffff) Holographic Pokémon, (sffffffffffff) mass hypnosis, (sffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff) Japanese-Disney conspiracy
I gotta run! Hope to see you soon!
02/15/99 Orientation
02/22/99 Smoke on the Water, Billy Ocean &
EBay
03/01/99 Dream Weavin', Sgt Snorkel's Secret
Code, Ruby Tuesday's
03/08/99 Styrofoam Circles, Exchanging Coffee
At Lunds, Somewhere on the East Coast
03/15/99 The Never Ending Story Part 1, Corrections
and Influences
03/22/99 The Never Ending Story "Part
Deux"
03/29/99 Summer Movie Preview Contest
04/05/99 "Hey, It's a Cult!," Amateur
Theology, An Unused Cartoon From the Early 80's, Contest Answer
04/12/99 Reverting to Old Ways, Going Off on
Commercials, The Masters Tournament
04/19/99 Special Piece of Crap Issue: Life
During Wartime, It's a Gas! Dock-umentary Preview
04/26/99 Previous Issue Apology, No More Horny
Hillbillies for Prez, Aging Rock Stars, MP3 Files
05/03/99 Guest Writer Gus Grimstone Simplifies
the Mysteries of the Universe With A Gut Punch
05/10/99 Writer's Block, Television vs TV,
Stamping Out Crime with Sporks & Scotch Tape
05/24/99 Star Wars, nothin' but Star Wars,
if they should bar wars, don't let them end.
06/07/99 Amnesia & Other Excuses, Film
Critics on Weed, Last Random Notes
06/14/99 Surly Rantings; Yes Virginia, there
is a Rastler Governor; The Clipboard Gauntlet
06/28/99 Is Dave Matthews Cool?; Surfin' Safari;
Safety Trip Tips; Patch Adams & Other Random Notes
07/12/99 Summertime Blues, Unemployment Fantasy
#1, Still on Dave Matthews Case, Catholic Rock Festivals
07/26/99 Shakespeare in Lust; Reddi, Wip GO!
What the Puck? A Rare Moment of Reflection
08/02/99 The Sun Was in My Eyes; The Perfect
Circle; Previews for What Was Supposed to be This Week
08/09/99 Has the Mud Changed the World?;Talkin'
FBI Paranoia Blues; Classic Rock, Have We Had Enough?
08/16/99 Too tired to write a description,
I'll hit it next week (still can't think of one)
09/06/99 Looking forward to Y2K; The Family
Banjo; New Religion: Buddh-Lite; Did I Miss a Meeting?;Urgent Care, Classic
Rock
09/2099 An Upfront Apology; Muscle Car Blues;
Endless Summer; The Fall Television Preview
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