The Fish
for 31 August 2000. Updated every WEEKDAY.
 
Suck Staff
 

[Tim Cavanaugh]
Tim Cavanaugh
Special Guest Editor

 

Terry Colon
Terry Colon
Art Director

 

Heather
Havrilesky
Heather Havrilesky
Senior Editor

 

[Phillip Bailey]
Phillip Bailey
Production Editor

 

Joey Anuff
Joey Anuff
Publisher








	
Suck Alumni
Suck Alumni Text
 
Hit & Run

"Maxim's recipe for success may be
ripped off by other men's magazines
like FHM..."

er, no. Maxim actually ripped off
FHM when Felix Dennis launched it
in the UK, except that it did so
poorly in comparison (and still
does) that he decided to create a
US version, and refocus on a market
dominated by— well, Details
—which was ripe for
exploitation with big tits and tall
tales.

The American success of Maxim, a
pale imitation of the lads' mag
instituted by Loaded back whenever,
continues to amaze us across the
pond.

Nick Sweeney
<nick@only.org>

Oh, the old "Who Are They Ripping
Off" Game. This should be added to
a revised Y2K edition of "Urban
Hipster Mantras."

Oh, the pale imitations! Oh, the
agony!

Thanks for playing!

Sucksters
 
Fish With Letter Icon
 


Today's edition was so damn funny I
near about pooped my pants.
Especially the segment about
5-letter magazine names. And I was
inspired by the hopelessly
irresponsible innuendo regarding
Mrs. Bush's driving record. Rock
on, Sucky!

Erik Rader
<erader@ontheboards.org>

Sucky Say: Whoop! There It Is!

A Free Fuck You Custard Pie to the
first 50 readers who send in
thrillingly (or chillingly)
outdated sayings from the '80s and
'90s.

Sucksters
 
Fish With Letter Icon
 


My beloved Sucksters,

Even before I write the e-mail
which will invoke such sorrow at
the workplace, I send one to you. I
am leaving, Suck. Yes, I am exiting
stage left, or, more accurately,
stage west. Lookit all them commas.

For the last two years, I have been
reading you faithfully on a daily
basis. I also, in a fit of
desperation, read your entire
archive. Nobody ever told me what
happened to Zero Baud, by the way.
I suppose it's pretty much
incorporated into Hit & Run at this
stage?

Suck has cured me of hangovers and
chased headaches away. Suck has
kept me real. Suck has provided me
with a vast array of
clever-sounding phrases which I can
draw upon when conversing with my
betters. Suck has protected me from
male pattern baldness. As a direct
result of Suck, my bong water is
sixty percent less grotty. Suck
made me the man I am today. It'd
really be best if you didn't ask
what sort of man, but were simply
satisfied with the fact that you
haven't altered my gender.

Every Wednesday, I try to spot
myself in Filler. It's generally
not too difficult, as I'm a
decaying urban hipster suffering
from a bad case of elitism and an
early-onset mid-life crisis. When I
spot myself, I give thanks that
someone out there in this big blue
world of ours is devoting a portion
of their life to mocking me. I'm
not sure why this is a good thing,
but I would be willing to sign a
legally binding document to shore
up my approval.

I've noticed that you get a lot of
mail which reads along the lines of
"You Suck! [Ed: Ha Ha] I'm never
reading you again!!!". I just
thought that I'd send this mail, in
all seriousness, to let you know
that I found your peculiar brand of
journalism/meme
dissemination/cynicism to be more
than worth the time I spent reading
it. You have a fantastic well of
intelligent and witty people
working for you, not to mention one
of the finest cartoonists I've run
into. Who is also funny and witty.
I assume.

Well, I won't have this fancy
internet where I'm going, nor will
I have one of these newfangled
personal computers. That's right,
I'm going to Canada! [Ed: ha, ha]
Actually, I'm going to live a life
of abject poverty while attempting
to stretch two months of savings to
cover the remaining two years of my
degree. Ah, the warm embrace of
Academia. I've missed it, so, these
last few years.

So, thank you for ensuring that I
never quite believed the hype, and
for making my lips twitch with
laughter as my co-workers peered
suspiciously over, and for putting
up that link to those two guys
having the contest to see who could
get laid first. That contest was
cool, and I kind of liked his
cartoons as well.

This is far too wordy, and so I
will condense:

Love you lots,

Liam Black

Thanks for the gracious words,
Liam. Come back soon. It won't be
the same without you.

We'll keep the archives warm for
you.

Sucksters
 
Fish With Letter Icon
 
Filler

Hi Polly,

I read Filler every week, but this
week was excellent. Maybe it's
because I just got shafted by the
love of my life who still loves me
but needs to be alone which
apparently means being with someone
else, but this week's filler really
touched a gaping open wound and
spilled salt all over it.

Thanks.

Name Withheld to Protect The
Heartbroken

Oops. Sorry about that.

My advice? Buy a huge stack of dumb
magazines and 10-12 candy bars.
Then buy a new outfit, and a puppy.

If you're still heartsick with a
new outfit on, a candy bar in your
hand, and a puppy and a copy of
Martha Stewart Living in your lap,
I can't really help you. If that
doesn't make you happy, well, then,
no wonder that chick left you for
someone else.

Running with the salt shaker,

Polly
 
Fish With Letter Icon
 



Polly,

Here's hoping you NEVER find
someone who makes you truly happy!
I rue the day your brilliant
relationship tirades come to an
end.

Best Regards,

Kling

Thanks for the kind wishes.

Polly
 
Fish With Letter Icon
 


Polly:

If you're looking for a
"complicated, intelligent, cynical,
analytical, funny, and intense"
man, then perhaps you should move
to the east coast which has no
shortage of dour intellectuals.

Or do you find toying with the
good-natured, slow witted surfer
boys that inhabit your idyllic
seaside world more amusing (and
safe?).

Interested
<perfect4polly@home.com>

Dear Perfect4Polly,

Your dangerously permeable ego
boundaries are already apparent in
that email address of yours. I
learned the hard way that
identifying myself first in
relation to another human being
really doesn't serve. Particularly
when my true identity could so
often be summed up as
"Perfect4slow-wittedsurferboy".

Oh yes, tough lessons indeed. Ones
I've learned over and over...Uh,
ones I've never learned, basically.

Just remember, interesting wins out
over interested every time. Or, as
Parisian exchange student Guilliame
said to me in high school, "Oh,
Polly, I am so exciting to be with
you!"

Interesting but not excited,

Polly
 
Fish With Letter Icon
 


Hey Polly,

You mention neither children nor
work in today's Suck. Sooner or
later couples quit talking and
start working, and that's when they
know they're a match.

I wrote a song once about what
really keeps couples going (and
workmates, and all people joined
together to accomplish something),
an extract of which follows.

Let this be a lesson
to those who like to talk
you better keep your
mouth shut if you can't walk
the walk
Cause after all the hormones
After all the play
you gotta do the work
so the fun won't go away.

(I guess I never felt this way,
1995)

Allegra Sloman
<argella@nerve.com>

Yeah, I've heard not talking is one
good way to improve a relationship.
I've just never tried it. Actually,
if you just ate and had sex and
never talked, that would be even
better.

It makes sense, doesn't it? Look
how easy them foreign chicks are to
get along with! Forget the talking
cure. How about the not-talking
cure? The stuffing-your-
face-and-watching-
crappy-TV-together cure. The
Scrabble-and-popcorn cure. The
shots-of-Tequila-and-rented-movie
cure.

And there's always work. But you
know, there's always work
regardless, so I guess what matters
is how much you bury yourself in
your work as an escape from your
crappy relationship. As a man,
burying yourself in your work is a
good way to ruin your crappy
relationship. As a woman, that's a
good way to save it.

I'd like to hear the tune to that
song...

Polly
 
Fish With Letter Icon
 


Know what you mean. But don't
despair. Wife and I have been doing
exactly what you describe, shacked
up for thirteen years and married
for seven, and absolutely no end in
sight! Yet, every single day, we
can still glance at each other
across the weeks of unwashed dishes
and laundry strewn about the house,
and wince with adoration for one
another. Anything is possible if
you want it badly enough. Now if
only we can find a clean fork and
some fresh underwear...

Erik Rader
<erader@ontheboards.org>

Proving once again that it's not
the problems, it's the way you deal
with them together. Couples who
handle problems really well are
much more impressive to me than
couples who don't seem to have
problems.

Congratulations. Now go away,
happy, functional human, before I
sock you in the jaw.

Polly
 
Fish With Letter Icon
 


Dearest Polly,

I just read Filler for 8/23. You
are absolutely correct! We are a
generation of persnickity, whiney
people unable to find true
happiness because we will never
allow ourselves to find that right
person. Because they don't exist.

But one good thing about our
generation is we can always find
someone to blame, and I blame the
media! If there weren't so many
jiggy jugs flashing across the
screen us men might allow ourselves
to love a woman for her personality
as opposed to her breasts.

Perhaps tits sell toothpase, which
ultimately drives our economy, and
sets this computer on my desk at
work, so I can email you, but if I
have to watch Ally McBeal propogate
female stereotypes any longer I may
just become the hollowed out soul I
so desperately trying to avoid.

How about a follow-up Filler
bashing through these media induced
dating ideals? At least on the
female side. Together we can
overcome.

Damon Delgado
<damon@giantsloth.com>

It's true. Everyone I know is
holding out for a hero, and they
can't separate their fantasy woman
or man from the prospect of a real
human being. We expect too damn
much, like the fisherman's wife:
"Go back to the fish! Tell him I
want a man with sparkling blue
eyes, rock-hard abs, and lots of
insightful funny things to say!" We
all think we deserve to be sleeping
with supermodels, no matter how
nasty we are. Why?

Well, I mean, I actually DO deserve
a supermodel, but that's a
different story altogether.

Entitled,

Polly
 
Fish With Letter Icon
 

 The Shit
Krushchev Remembers, by Nikita Krushchev (authorship disputed), translated by Strobe Talbott
Five-Star Day Cafe
Athens, Ga.
Salon's "Action Figures"
TV ad
Donna's Famous "Long and Short of It," by Donna Anderson and friends
Two-Lane Blacktop, directed by Monte Hellman (The Anchor Bay/Universal letterboxed edition)
George Bush, Dark Prince of Love: A Presidential Romance, by Lydia Millet (Scribner)
King Kong: The Complete 1933 Film Score, by Max Steiner Moscow Symphony Orchestra, William J. Stromberg conductor (Marco Polo)
Eightball #20, by Dan Clowes (Fantagraphics Books)
The ECW's Little Spike Dudley
Stan Kenton, City of Glass, featuring arrangements by legendary weirdo Bob Graettinger (EMD/Blue Note)
Comix 2000, Edited and published by L'Association, 2000
Star Dudes
Do you know of stuff that doesn't actively suck? Things so good they deserve to make the Shitlist? Send your suggestions to us.

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