for 29 November 2000. Updated every WEEKDAY.

Tim Cavanaugh
Special Guest Editor

Terry Colon
Art Director

Heather Havrilesky
Senior Editor

Joey Anuff
Publisher

Polly:

You and your friend Steve talk constantly, endlessly analyzing the minutiae of your daily lives and discounting almost everyone and everything that comes into contact with the two of you. It doesn't take Chuck Woolery to recognize the high probability of a love connection between the two of you. So what gives? What are you waiting for, the Director's Cut of "When Harry Met Sally" to hit DVD? Why be happily miserable alone when you can be happily miserable together?

Justine Cryer
<justinesarahc@yahoo.com>

Yes, Steve and I talk constantly, endless analyzing the minutiae of our sad little lives an discounting almost everyone and everything that comes into contact with the two of us. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that if we became involved, we'd turn our unflinchingly critical lenses on each other and fry in the magnified glare of each others' ruthless scrutiny. Hell, we already bicker like irritable siblings over the smallest crap.

Here's the thing, Justine. You've got to trust me on this: you really don't want to spend all your time with someone who's exactly like you. I'm a cynical asshole. That means I have lots of cynical asshole friends, but my significant other needs to be an upbeat idealist. Sure, he'll make me roll my eyes and guffaw loudly every time he opens his mouth and spews hopelessly naive tripe, but I need his cheerful expressiveness in my life. I'd be crazy to align myself with a crusty curmudgeon when I'd do much better with a dreamy-eyed little optimist. You know, like I was, before my hamsters ran out of water and ate each other alive.

Uh, of course, I was the one who forgot to put more water in the Habitrail.

No one but myself to blame,

Polly

Polly,

You let me tell you something, You know, I'm about due for a new job, too. I've been fired from my last 3. Man! I suck. Anyways, I'm kinda glad I'll never get to really meet you in person. I'd end up just like Steve. You'd call me up to talk about some crap and I'd end up not even getting the panties. Wait — did you ever date Steve? How come Steve gets a girl with a leather book? Oh well — Don't change your writing one bit. I mean it. Yer hilarious.

Cisco
<ciscov@avaya.com>

Panties. God, I hate that word. I mean, I really, really hate that word. Why must female underwear sound so...lurid?

Anyway, now that you ask, I have to tell the truth. I did date Steve, way back in the day. But it was my senior year in college and Steve had already graduated, which meant I was very busy chasing down other men like a scary harlot, and he was struggling through Public Policy grad school like a...well, like a Steve. Plus, he used to always eat off my plate, which annoyed me. It didn't annoy me when other people did that, just when Steve did it. We annoyed each other, really. He thought I was shallow. He was right. This was after the hamster incident, understand, and after countless other incidents, each more harrowing than the last. Oh, poor me.

Now we're both old and disgusting, but we still think we're better than everyone else.

You know, Cisco, sometimes I have to wonder who could possibly be deluded enough to read this reprehensible drivel . But I'm too shallow to spend too much energy wandering down that path. Besides, you told me I shouldn't change a thing, didn't you?

Shallow, stagnant, fetid, etc.

Polly

Don't ever change, Polly.

Or, maybe, change a little, if you want to.

But don't change for anyone else. Change for yourself.

But, uh, don't change for yourself, just because you feel like you're not okay just the way you are. Because you ARE okay, just the way you are, okay?

That is to say, if it really FULFILLS you, who you REALLY ARE INSIDE ALREADY, then go ahead, change as much as you like. Or need to. Or whatever.

Hey, no pressure. We like you either way. Stay the same, change, what the hell. It's all good.

I have no life.

E-Dog, Seattle

My god. You're like the unconditional positive regard-spewing parents I never had.

Except my parents never truly believed that it was "all good," and even if they did, they'd never deign to utter such a pedestrian phrase.

Not that you shouldn't, E-dog.

So, we really are free to be you and me, aren't we?

Basking in the glow of your delusions,

Polly

Who has white socks with red toes and heels? Can I sniff them? I bet they smell like roses.

Jeff A Tyrcha
<surfermonmon@lycos.com>

They do! They smell just like roses! How did you know?

Stinky man behind the curtain,

Polly

What kind of smack must I talk to get my letter posted? And by the way, what kind of Jackass name is Polly anyway?

Kelly Ann Sidebottom
<kas@wyoming.com>

Well, Ms. Sidebottom, you can start by telling me you love me fully and completely for exactly who I am, no matter what. Next, you could urge me to never, ever change, unless I sort of feel like changing, in which case it's A-OK for me to change. Next, you can ask to wash my feet with your long, luxurious hair, and you can tell me that my toe cheese smells like ripe mangoes!

Now that you know the formula for making it onto the Fish page, you really have no excuse. Sure, saying that I have a jackass name is a nice start, but I'm going to encourage you to try a little harder next time.

Jackass,

Polly

Hi Polly!

Ah, I don't know how many "sitting on the beach" / "candlelight dinner" /"be the mother of my dozen" you get every day, but want I wanted to tell you

a) Filler is absolut erste oberleckersahne. Or, as americans would say, great. or: exciting.

b) Please don't loose your bitterness and angst. Don't get wiser. You are the light at the end of the tunnel, you are showing us geeks that a bitter, frigthened individual can be adored by... how many readers do you have?