Gotta problem with the gossip below? Sue me. Well, actually, if you've got a "real" problem, let me know and I'll redact names to protect the innocent.

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Reaching an International Audience

Last issue, there was a fine reference to "felching." It recommended writing to Lizrod if you were unaware of the term's meaning. Guess what? Somebody did:

---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Tue, 08 Oct 1996 10:15:40 +1000
From: kedwar@strata.net.au
To: ejgreen@indiana.edu
Subject: Felching

Seppo,

I don't know if felching means the same thing there as here, but we reckon it means someone sucking semen out of someone's anus with a straw after they have been fucked up the blurt.

-- Gloria, deuuugh.

Close enough to get the cigar. And let this be a lesson to the innocent reader: People are actually reading this crap.

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More Fame

Some guy likes this publication so much that he has actually set up a link. Golly geez. I've never even met the guy. He does have a pretty cool first name, though. Check it out: Chris Funkhouser's Page.

 

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New Year's Eve Party

We are proud to announce that has become a corporate sponsor of the annual New Year's Eve Party at the House on 20th Street.

(It should be noted that the aforementioned corporate sponsor, desiring to receive extra publicity, lobbied hard to have New Year's celebrated twice yearly. Said request has been taken under consideration by the Joint Committee on Timetables. A full report is expected sometime next year.)

Special Guest Appearances by Madonna and Baby, Grant Show and Heather Locklear of Melrose fame, and Kurt Russell of Escape from LA.

Time: Pre-Midnight
Date: December 31, 1996
Place: 704 S. 20th Street, Arlington, VA 22202

RSVP Today! Call Chris at (703) 271-8197

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Housemate Needed

Starting in mid-December, Regine will be leaving the House to return to Germany. Therefor, we're looking for a new housemate.

If you know anyone who might be interested, spread the Word. Rent runs about $375 per month plus utilties. There are six people in the House and a cat -- the Hobbes-A-Raptor.

Start time is sort of flexible.

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Please e-mail gossip about yourself or others to The Vomitorium. Feel free to spew about your friends. I do.

We have several fine contributions this issue from readers just like you. Thank you.

This section depends on your input. Be an eager beaver and send in something. Send in submissions of all sizes. If it causes fits, we'll print it.

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To the Bladder that Knew No Chatter
By Claudine Hof

Oh that I could well express
The chill that settles on my breast (ahem).
I heave, I sigh, and clip my stockings
On for another night of defrockings.
Whither and dither, my fine young friend --
Time is a-flopping and near the end;
I see yon lemming clings to a tree
But not for long, my dear, you'll see.
Rodent-like, yes, but not at all uncommon,
He'll fling himself right down the bottom!
Find the Velveeta and call the Pope,
Before the bell rings the rope!

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Some fan mail from the upstanding James Thomas:

(The following transmission was secretly intercepted while en route to its destination.)

Rather than doing something useful like reading for torts or examining the intricacies of Coase theorem efficiency arguments, I have been reading the Loppy Land web page of the afforementioned Chris Lopata (aka Elvis), in which you [Liz Wilner], being the unofficial Graceland lobbyist to Washington, would be interested to know, Mr. Lopata admits to disliking Elvis' music and even goes so far as to suggest a distaste for the man (known affectionately by those of us who love him as The King and to others as simply Daddy). This, I would submit, only proves that Mr. Lopata cannot be trusted and must be disposed of.

Thank you for the tremendous support. Keep those comments coming.

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We've also had an excellent recommendation. Writes Lynn Fischer: "You should start a personals section in the Letter." So be it. Send personals to Unclassifieds.

Eric Hayot had another interesting (and somewhat Hayot-esque) suggestion. He recommended that everyone submit their cholesterol count so that we could compare notes. Why? Who cares. It's a darn good idea. Send the figure to Vein Clog. As an incentive, Eric's C-count is listed under his blurb in the Braggart section.

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Randall Cook offers some religious insights:

I have discovered the Nashville Network. For months I thought it was only taking up valuable space in my cable system, but now I understand its purpose: The Dukes of Hazzard. On twice daily (1pm and 4 pm PDT). I guess I hadn't discovered girls when it was first run because Daisy Duke is a lot hotter than I remember. With Chips, Starsky & Hutch, the Six Million Dollar Man, the Simpsons, and Star Trek all on reruns (with no conflicts!), it is truly a great time to be alive.

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Keep the stuff flowing in. Make sure to type "soapbox" on the subject line.

E-mail submissions to Soapbox Rantings.

Contest of the Issue:

Send Along a Really Scary Story

Entries containing some semblance of creativity, humor, or strangeness will receive extra points from the judges.

Every issue or so, a winner will be selected. The top entry will receive a prize -- like a coveted mention in , a pack of gum, a 1996 calendar, or $10 million. The management reserves the right to republish all disturbing responses. The determination of the East German judge is final.

Good luck.

Jack Musselman of Bloomington, Indiana is a winner!

Last month's contest simply asked for a good quote. The winner was promised a "coveted mention in the Loppy Letter, a toothbrush, or $10 million." Here's what Jack had to say:

"If I remember my symbolic logic correctly, there are eight possible truth-functional combinations for a three-part disjunction; since a disjunction is true when at least one (but perhaps more) of its disjuncts is true, a three-part disjunction can be true in seven distinct and different ways; since four of those seven ways involve you losing $10 million (i.e. four of the original eight possible truth-functional combinations involve making it true that you lose $10 million), you have (logically speaking) about a 50-50 chance of being impoverished to the tune of ten big ones. So, unless you are more clear about the legal obligations at stake here (or unless you change the laws of logic), I think you may be out some pocket change."

Yes, indeed, Jack. You strayed from the rules of the contest by not providing a quote, but why be bound to ironclad rules? True to your logic, you shall win three prizes: a mention in this newsletter, a toothbrush (retail value of $1.35), and a breath mint to be delivered on your wedding day. Your philosophical wizardry and utter geekdom will take you to new heights. Congrats!

First Runner Up is Roger Lopata, who submitted the following quote:

"Without a Respectable Navy -- alas America."

No, not from the next episode of JAG wherein they investigate the preponderance of felons in the student population at Annapolis, but rather from John Paul Jones. No, not the one who played in LedZepp. The one who lived from 1747-1792.

Second Runner Up is Jill Marsteller, who wrote:

"Women have served all these centuries as looking-glasses, possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size."

-- Virginia Woolf

To all other contestants, thank you for playing. Please come again!

This issue's Bonus section features some exciting stories about Puke. Think of this information as an addendum to your newspaper's "Health" section.

Some common synonyms from Webster's New World Thesaurus . . . Verbs: throw up, eject, bring up, dry heave, breaking the toilet, be seasick, hurl forth, retch, ruminate, regurgitate, rip loose, give forth, discharge, belch forth, spew out, shooting projectiles, get sick, spew up, praying to the porcelain god, upchuck.

"Puke" used a noun in a sentence . . . From Mike Hiestand and Gregg Leslie of the Student Press Law Center and the Reporter's Committee for Freedom of the Press: "We were wondering where a little puke like you gets off listing his favorite sites and not including the SPLC or RCFP sites." Alas, gentlemen, you have been added on another page.

An intriguing, feminist empowerment story submitted by Jill: "A college pal was drunk and feeling a bit rude and accepted an offer of a blow job from an extremely intoxicated woman he didn't know very well. He did not find the woman particularly attractive, and by his own admission, decided to enjoy her favor while reading a newspaper. Had he paid closer attention, he might have noticed her pallor and retching motion; but alas, he only felt the results of her agony as she got sick all over his lap. Traumatized, he related the story to friends and earned for himself the nickname which follows him to this day -- Chili Dog. For my part, I say it served him right."

And, of course, faithful readers will recall the trials and tribulations of an innocent steering wheel in Issue One.

Next issue: Bladder control problems. Please send in the stories. They don't call this Yellow Journalism for nothing.