The Fish
for 16 December 1999. Updated every WEEKDAY.
Suck Staff

Joey Anuff
Joey Anuff
Editor in Chief


[Tim Cavanaugh]
Tim Cavanaugh
Special Guest Editor


Terry Colon
Terry Colon
Art Director


Heather Havrilesky
Senior Editor


[Copy Edit]
Erica Gies
Merrill Gillaspy

Copy Editors


[Phillip Bailey]
Phillip Bailey
Production Editor

Suck Alumni
Suck Alumni Text

Carl Steadman
Carl Steadman


Ana Marie
Ana Marie Cox
Executive Editor


Sean (Duuuuude)
Sean Welch


Owen Thomas
Owen Thomas
Copy Editor


T. Jay Fowler
Production Manager
& Ass Kicker


[yes, it's
a plunger. i'll l
eave the rest up to your imagination ... ]
Erin Coull
Production Manager


Monte Goode
Ghost in the Machine


Matt Beer
Matt Beer
Development Manager


Forsyth, " we're just spanning time "]
Brian Forsyth
Production Editor
& Pool Monitor


[the fixin'
pixie... ]
Emily Hobson
Production Manager
& Rhythm Guitar


Ian Connelly
Marketing Manager

Most Excellent Rumors

Also, Pringles give you loose
stools. Trust me, I know.


Well, those things were
developed by captive
Japanese-American scientists
in internment camps during
World War II. I'm guessing
the typical Japanese diet
includes a much lower fiber
intake than yours.

DJ Abe
Fish With Letter Icon

The Dutch are not Scandinavian.
Get it straight.


That's what's wrong with our
Eurocentric society today
— too much is made of
petty differences. Though
separate countries, Dutch and
Scandinavia are actually very
near one another, and they do
sell Mentos in the latter,
even to minors.

DJ Abe
Fish With Letter Icon

Subject: KFC

Although the other "rumors"
are quite correct and have
been begging for the light of
day, your revelation about the
Colonel's chicken flock is
terribly flawed.

Upon opening a bucket of
clucker pieces, discerning
customers have always noticed
there are body parts
contained therein which have
no resemblance to the wings,
legs, thighs, and breasts
sold by Frank Perdue or the
folks down on the Holly

The reason for this confusing
difference, my aspersion-
casting friend, is
that the Colonel's chickens
do, in fact, have anuses.

During John Y.'s quest to cut
costs, he discovered the
ultimate timesaving method
for butchering barnyard fowl.
Mr. Brown ordered that the
technique be included in the
supplier's confidential SOP
manual, and it has been as
jealously guarded as the
herbs/spices recipe. At great
personal risk, I am
forwarding it to you:

"1. Catch chicken by one
foot. 2. Grab tail and locate
anus. 3. Insert one standard
M-80 in anus, light fuse, and
release chicken. 4. Bread and
cook all pieces that can be
located after detonation.

Warning customers of gas,
oily discharge, and immediate
need to defecate after
consumption is not required
as stated in Reed v. Dunkin
USCC 7, 3269, 1966."

Oh yeah, in case you're
wondering, gunpowder is one
of the 11 herbs and spices.


Oops! I was talking about
Kentucky Fried Chicken.

DJ Abe
Fish With Letter Icon


Subject: Pretty Weak Today

What's the deal, did you
forget to pay the narrative

Alejandro Taylor <ataylor@>

Oh shit!

It seems like narrative tax time
comes around faster every

Fish With Letter Icon

This week: a shocker. Wish I
could say, "top notch," but I
can't. Either this week's
Filler was so esoteric as to
be overwhelmingly boring, or
it was so cynical as to not
be remotely funny.
Disjointed, lost, wandering.
What's with the unsolicited
negative criticism? Maybe
this'll help: This week, my
editor/editrix told me,
"Don't let cynicism get in
the way of creativity."


Paul Pavlak

That's funny, because my
editor always says, "Don't
let creativity get in the way
of cynicism."

Disjointed, lost, wandering,

Fish With Letter Icon


You have a fine legal
mind (as evidenced by the
"Jury Doody" Filler
highlighted on the Classic
Suck bar this week), but I
think your meticulous
bong-spilling analysis
overlooks a crucial
suspect. You are dead-on by
recognizing that, in these
situations, it's not who
physically spilled the bong
that everyone gets so hyped
up about, it's whose fault it
is. Mike Johnson, 23, might
have actually upended the
device, but why didn't Scott
McLeod, 32, act faster to
make the save? And how much
guilt does Lucy Weiss, 27,
bear for putting on the
jitter-inducing Tori Amos?
There's plenty of fault to go

But still, the question: What
about the cat? No mention is
made of this contented,
pinkish feline-thing lolling
in the foreground. Again,
perhaps the cat did not
actually attack and topple
the bong physically, but it
should share some blame.
Maybe its dander was
aggravating Mike's, 23,
allergies and making his eyes
blur (he looks like the kind
of guy with allergies). Or
maybe it fled the clatter of
the falling bong, and its
hasty exit distracted Scott,
32, from coming to the rescue
in time. And perhaps its
catty feline energy put Lucy,
27, in the mood for some
meowing vocals, hence the
Tori Amos.

Then, of course, there's the
larger concern of whose place
this is. Mike, 23, is a
friend-of-friend invite;
Scott, 32, and Lucy, 27, are
guests. Is it your place,
Polly? Sorry about the
carpet. And I didn't mean to
imply that your cat has a
dander problem.

Stay where you are, cheese

Chris Mohney

Ah, sure. Blame the cat.
That's what's wrong with our
society. Something goes
wrong, we blame the cat. Sad,

Anyway, that's not my
apartment in the diagram. I
don't own a bong, but if I
did, the water would be
sparkling and clean, I can
assure you of that. Maybe it
would even be moutain spring
water, from protected springs
high in the Sierra Nevada and
San Bernadino mountains.
"It's better up there!" It
would be clean enough that
you might splash a little in
your whiskey on the rocks, if
you wanted a little splash of
water in there, which you
probably wouldn't.

I don't have wall-to-wall
carpeting, but if I did, I
wouldn't own a bong, but if I
did own a bong ... (see
above). I don't own a cat,
but if I did, I wouldn't
blame it for everything.
Actually, I probably would
blame it for everything. But
my cat wouldn't have a dander
problem, and I wouldn't allow
so-called "allergic" people
into my home, and I wouldn't
have wall-to-wall carpeting,
which would aggravate the
dander issue when I did
happen to have so-called
allergic types around, which
I wouldn't.

While I do not currently know
of a cheese danish in the
vicinity, I do have a large
block of cheese in my fridge,
and it is staying right where
it is, patiently awaiting
further instruction.

Fish With Letter Icon

Subject: What's on your

Dear Polly,

I have resisted writing in
the past for fear of ridicule
in the sporadic Hate Mail
Fillers. But today I have a
little problem.

On the first page of the 1
December 1999 Filler, we get
to see you sitting in your
stylish living room.
Wonderful. Nice curtains. But
I was left puzzled —
exactly what was that stuff
on your windowsill, if it was
on the sill at all? My guess,
from left to right, is a snow
globe, the head of an alien
(or the guy from Munch's
"The Scream," only not
screaming, or one of those
things that spins when
exposed to direct light), and
a small pig figurine.

The more disturbing
possibility is that these
things are actually outside,
across the street, and are
(from right to left this
time) a gigantic pig, an
alien (or the Munch guy on
Prozac), and the back of
Frankenstein's head!!!! Help
me out here!!

Andy Abbott

I don't know what that crap
is. It showed up before, and
I meant to ask Terry what it
was. I also meant to ask him
why I look so fat lately,
like some girl who has a big
black "kitty" named Elvis and
wall-to-wall carpeting and a
dander problem and a wall
that's creatively decorated
with this really fantastic
silk scarf she found at a
yard sale and paid, like,
next to nothing for. Can't
you just picture me? Sitting
around all day eating cookies
and trying to think up funny
"jokes" for my pathetic
"online cartoon." No, I am
much too mean and neurotic to
have pets or to vacuum or to
hunt for bargains at yard
sales or to deign to attempt
being "funny." Or to have
friends or to describe
anything as "fantastic," for
that matter, but let's drop

I think Terry's hinting at
the fact that my apartment is
overly cluttered. Either
that, or he's trying to warn
me about the gigantic pig,
the alien, and the back of
Frankenstein's head, all of
which are just outside my
window!!! Help me!!!

Fish With Letter Icon

Subject: What's the deal with

I just read the 1 December
1999 Filler. I sure love that

But as much as I like the
guy, he seems to have been
watered down from the
offensive, lazy, stinking
brew he was in "Creepless in
Seattle." You know, the Steve
we all fell in love with.

I mean, going out to dinner
with some other doctors? What
happened to the Steve who
said he wasn't leaving the
house unless things were
going to blow up? The Steve
who disdainfully uttered,
"Cold Mountain"? I mean, for
fuck's sake.

Couldn't we get some more of
that whining, pathetic, lying
jackass? Please?

Bitching and moaning,

So-So Stu

Well, the moral of the story
was "Doctors are evil." We
had to set aside Steve's
evilness in order to focus on
the evilness of doctors in

I really shouldn't write
things like that because my
sister Laura is a doctor.
She's sometimes not so
understanding about this
little exaggerated world I
dwell in. Actually, it
doesn't seem exaggerated to
me, but to a doctor, a
scientist ... you understand.
Strangely, she and Steve
don't seem to like each other
much. Maybe that's because my
sister Laura is a real live doctor
who's doing a fellowship at
Duke University, and Steve
just plays with this little
Fisher-Price doctor's bag I
got him.

But we have to back up so I
can clarify something. You
refer to "the Steve we all
fell in love with." Could you
by any chance send me the
names and email addresses of
this "we all" you refer to,
so I can forward them to
offensive, lazy, stinking,
whining, pathetic, lying,
jackass Steve? As I mentioned
before, he could use a date.
Trust me, girls, it is sooo
cute when he pretends to use
the little stethoscope.

Also offensive and lazy, but
much less stinky,

Fish With Letter Icon


Why don't you print my
letters? I thought the one I
sent two weeks ago about that
asshole Kornheiser and his
no-talent cousin Kornheiser
was particularly funny.

Flinchingly yours,

Syd Lexic

I think this one is much
funnier, personally.

Fish With Letter Icon

 The Shit
Seeing Calvin Coolidge in a Dream, John Derbyshire, St. Martin's Press, 1996
Peekaboo's Masks, 2492 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco
West Beirut, director Ziad Doueiri, 1999
"The Smartest Cartoonist on Earth," Daniel K. Raeburn, The Imp, Vol. 1/No. 3, 1999
Mad Monster Party, Rankin/Bass Productions, VHS, Deluxo & Black Bear Press, 1967/1999
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill, America's Best Comics, 1999
Hermenaut No. 15: "The Fake Authenticity Issue," editor Joshua Glenn, summer 1999
Guillow's Sky Streak rubber-powered balsa-wood glider (without landing gear)
Very Emergency, Promise Ring, Jade Tree, 1999
Mean Magazine No. 5, summer 1999
Slickaphonics, Replikants, KillRockStars/Rue St. Germaine, 1999
"Cash, Interesting, Summer Holiday", The Young Ones, Foxvideo (BBC Video), 1988
Driver (PSX), GT Interactive, 1999

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