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Weekly Update (Priceless)
Ask Jamie and Jana ($0.02)
Ben: Dictator or Cassanova? ($12)
The Wailing Wall ($0.25)
Picasso's Ear (500 Words)
Does Your Opinion Matter? ($0.00)
The Rant Page (3 for $0.99)
Discoveries in Sociology ($3.47)
Things We've Done To Humiliate Our Mothers
($1,000,000.00)
Oyster Regurgitation (30 yen)
Disco-Teque ($5 cover, $2 drinks)
Fan Mail ($0.50)
Fan Male
[Boys Only] ($1.00)
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Wal-Mart Love
First reason Jamie loves corporate giants:
McDonald's breakfast. Let me ask you: where in the whole entire world, if you have a mere $5 bill in your pocket,
could you walk into a restaurant, and be served hashbrowns, eggs, a biscuit, bacon, AND beverage of choice, pay
with your $5 bill, and still have enough money to buy Cokes at the vending machine for the rest of the day. This,
my friends, all happened in under 5 minutes. You gotta love McDonald's. It gave me a fat ass, but at least it did
it quickly.
Reason Number 2: Wal-Mart.
This place has freaking everything. Now when your mom and pop store starts crying because Wal-Mart came and took
all your business away, just remember that your mom and pop store did not stay open past 5 on a Sunday night when
you need transparencies for a project due the next morning at 12. Wal-mart cares; Wal-Mart is open, and Wal-Mart
has transparencies. And Wal-Mart let Natalie Portman have a baby in the camping section of their store.
Chapstick
Chapstick is the greatest invention ever. Let me tell you why.
It moisturizes your lips like no other, and most of them taste good. The only thing about friggin' chapstick is
that if you buy the perfect chapstick that you absolutely love -- not only does it taste good but it moisturizes
perfectly -- you will lose it within two days of buying it. Or you will leave it in your pants pockets when you
put them in the dryer and they put these beautiful waxy purple splatters all over your pants.
You not only ruin your pants but you ruin the chapstick, which really sucks. But life without chapstick would just
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Eyes and Major Crises
Recently, Jana suffered from an eye infection. Below is a recording of the pain and agony she experienced at the
hand of the eye:
Why is there a stye in my eye? Oh my. It makes me want to cry. It makes me want to die. I did not ask for a stye,
I asked for pie. Did the Big Guy in the Sky mishear my cry for pie? Did he give me a stye? He could have at least
given me some bread of rye. Why oh why? Bye-bye cacti. My eye is not beautified. I can no longer apply my eye to
the butterfly in the sky. I can go twice as high. I ask that next time an eye has a stye, please notify. Pacify
and personify. The eye of the samurai.
Jana also has to write a letter to The Man who gives money to UNM for her scholarship and sound grateful for
it. Below is her rough draft.
Dear Mr. Man,
I am doing just great. College life is grand. News on campus: the college I had chosen a major in lost it's accreditation
last week so I'm basically screwed over for any kind of job potential. However, they assure us it's all ok and
will not affect us in any way.
I have no direction in life. I hate school. The food sucks. Also, note that I look forward to checking my mail
every day in hopes that you, my sponsor, will ackowledge my existence. But alas, you must be busy at the track
or on your llama farm. The anthrax scare is over, if that's the hold up.
It's now 12:30 at night. I suppose you've drifted peacefully off to sleep in your feather bed with satin sheets.
My bed is hard. Like bricks. But I'm not sleeping yet because I am pondering my future.
I just stubbed my toe. I must muffle my screams of agony from my roommates so I will end this now. Thanks for the
cash,
Jana |
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