for 5 January 2000. Updated every WEEKDAY.
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Filler Polly, No, no, no. Do not let the Christmas holidays steer you down the path of negativity and bitterness. Fuck the fucking fuckers. There is so much more to have and share during these times of inflated self-worth. Fires, in a fireplace and not some motherfucker's house, crackling and warming your house and your heart. That numbing buzz of alcohol you feel as you walk down the snow-covered streets singing Christmas carols to yourself, but just loud enough for strangers to hear and notice you in "the spirit" but not of the Spirit. And last but not least, the joy of giving. And you can start by replying to my Christmas query: "How big are your breasts?" Have the greatest holiday, because shit keeps rolling downhill and more and more young, stupid, sniveling kids are getting up the hill faster. Nate Stinson Dallas, Texas Wow. I wish I had the numbing buzz of a vacation that you apparently had. Polly  Dear Polly, It struck me that Filler is just like Christmas cookies — a plateful of sugary, nonnutritive goodness with which we glut ourselves; we're shocked when nothing remains but the crumbs of the Fish column, feeling just slightly sick afterward, unrepentant but a little greasy. Ohhh, I live for Wednesdays. At least during the week, that is. On the weekends I actually live for Saturdays, and kind of for Sundays, though have you ever noticed how Sunday doesn't hold the allure that Saturday does 'cause deep down you associate it with having to go to church? Ick. Well, I didn't want the year to end without letting you know I love your work and I'm glad to have Suck and Filler in my life. It makes me feel so much better that there are bitter, cynical, but ultimately pathetic women out there just like me! Regards, Joanie <daphne@imageworks.com> But most of all, pathetic, huh? Good to know I can comfort you with my patheticness. Keep on glutting yourself, Polly Dear Kauai no Polly-Chan, I read with interest your foibles in trying to control your anger this (by now) past holiday season. One word: Quake III Arena. Wait, that's three words! Well, screw it, the point I'm trying to make is this: Instead of spending money on worthless self-help books, killing people in real life, or trying to suppress your rage at the general ass-liciousness of the world, just go out and get a nice first-person shooter like Q3A and open up a bloody can of virtual whup-ass on all and sundry! Of course, it doesn't necessarily have to be Quake. You might go for Unreal Tournament instead, or perhaps Half-Life if you prefer a plot line to go with your massacre. But Q3A is the best because it's the purest — it's all about nothing but slaughter, murder, and mayhem! And the catharsis makes you feel great afterward, like a good enema. Believe me, I know. I do phone-tech support for a major company that shall remain unnamed, and the crap I have to take from customers and from my bosses can really drive me up the wall sometimes. But my co-workers say I'm always bright and cheery. Why is that? Because I can come home every night and blow the living crap out of everything that moves!! I feel great and so will you! You could even make a custom skin of that cute little angry squirrel thingy. Imagine her running around with a rocket launcher or the BFG10K, putting the maximum smack down on anything that even looks at her funny. Weeeee! The only problem is that you might be so mellow afterward that it might change the complexion of the Filler column. Oh well, it's better than the funny farm or lethal injection! Just trying to help, <jugurtha@mail.integraonline.com> Please make an appointment to see the guidance counselor at your high school immediately. Toons of Glory You really nailed the mysteriously unfunny New Yorker cartoons. One of your best sucking spoofs yet. <bebe75@ yahoo.com> We knew it was a can't-miss proposition. Either people would say, "Wow, your cartoons were just like the New Yorker's, only funny." Or they'd say, "You really nailed the mysteriously unfunny New Yorker cartoons." Nailing it, St. Huck I loved the "Word up, Honey" cartoon; it was great. <jlpeters1@compuserve.com> All credit goes to the indefatigable Terry Colon, who played both ways on that one — i.e., not only did he draw it, he wrote the caption too. Huck Subject: And a Merry Bah-Humbug to you Once again you folks have provided the acetone to clean off the crappy veneer globbed on by 364 days of "authority," real and advertised. Things would be so much nicer and simpler (not to mention sweeter smelling) if everyone would stop telling us what to do, why it's good for us, and why our lives would be so much better for it. But as sentient beings (or just incontinent, as in, "Why does your shit stink and mine doesn't?"), we seem to have the need to fuck around with things, make things better. Not that I'm a social luddite, mind you, but somehow the words "Live and let live" seem to resonate somewhere, or maybe it's "Do unto others." Oh well, it looks like another year of fun, frolic, and cavortment, with the world trying to put PC polish on my rough ol' ass. Hope you avoid the rose-colored contacts for yet another millennium. Keep the faith. Curt Masemore <cmasemor@swbell.net> Maybe you should try loofahing that rough old ass. It's good for you. Polly |
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