Those of us who are lucky enough to be called the staff of the P.Net Corporation like to think that we make a difference in the world. We don't, but we've never let silly things like facts get in the way of our delusions. We'd also like to believe that what we do really matters, that each written word touches the youth of America in
ways that Rep. Mark Foley never dreamed of. Also, unlike Foley, we'd like to believe that we also touch adults as well, hopefully in some way which won't land us in court on rape charges or net us a flag for unsportsmanlike conduct. See, I threw the sports reference in there so that the guys didn't feel alienated. Not that I would ever touch a guy. Unless he paid well.
Knowing this, it's why we always take great pride everytime we venture into the PNC mail room. The fact that any of us can even find it at all is a testament to our humanitarian strength and desire to do wonderful things for people we don't know anything about. Either that or it means we got some bunk shit and our high is starting to wear off. Whatever color you say the sky is, it all boils down to the letters. Some make us cry, some make us laugh. Some even make us touch ourselves in spots normally reserved for priests and dirty uncles. We're more than happy to offer a helpful hand or some sage advice to those in need; to our fellow planitary inhabitants who write to the PNC because they are idiots with nowhere else to turn and they actually think that we can help. We love you guys. But don't let me get in the way, let us let the letters speak for themselves! On to the mailbag!
Dear PNC,
I'd like to consider myself a fairly healthy guy. I mean, I try and hit the gym at least twice a week, run when I can, and all that. I am extremely careful about what I eat, avoiding fast food and junk food for the part when I can. But this recent spinach scare got me really worried. Now I am afraid to eat things like salads because I can't be sure that it's really good for me. What do you guys think?
-- Reginald
Hello Reginald,
First, and if you don't mind me saying so, you sound like a pretentious douchebag. Fruits and vegetables are for sissy hippie people who care too much about the environment to eat a cow's leg or half a shark. You probably were an art major in college who smoked cigarettes to fit in but thought that you were being clever by only smoking the thin ones and that it made you more eclectic. In reality, it made you look like my sister dressed in men's clothing, ready to give a handjob to the first guy who offered you boxed wine.
But just as with everything in life, results can vary from day to day and topic to topic. You see, there was this one time that I really had to go to the bathroom. I did, but it turned out to just be a false alarm. As I was leaving, I felt an odd rumble in my stomach and really thought that I had to go this time. It turns out that that too was a false alarm. In fact, I don't think I actually used the restroom for at least another five hours. Spinach is a lot like that. You just never really know when it'll make you go to the bathroom but you should be prepared for the eventuality that it will occur. Besides, you shouldn't be so stuck up. There are a million AIDS patients who would simply die for a case of E. Coli. Ok, so those million people would have died eventually from AIDS but, hey, as long as Magic Johnson is still alive, there's hope.
Guys,
Hey, I really like the site and though I wouldn't call myself a big fan, I certainly enjoy it on occasion. Some of the jokes are a bit too tasteless or just plain unfunny but you can't be expected to strike gold all the time. However, the poor journalism aside, I have noticed a trend among most of the writers and that is the overall tone of anger in everything that gets written. Why are you guys so angry all the time? Is it steroids or something?
-- Joanne
Dearest Joanne,
We wish our problem was something as simple as steroids. Steroids is something you can quit. Sure, you might not be able to do it on your own so you hire a fat man to beat you with a baton everytime you think of popping one in your mouth, but you can break the addiction. No, you see, what fuels our anger is something far more complex and light years more sinister than any drug in circulation. We simply hate the fact that white men can't jump. You see, despite what history has shown us, white men aren't inherently bad. Sure, we've enslaved entire nations and wiped out populaces across the world but that is largely because we feel the need to compensate for our lack of true jumping ability. Throughout the course of known time, white men as a whole wanted to do nothing more than to jump; to frolic and play like the rest of the races. We have dreams of becoming good at sports and even write songs such as "Jump Around" (House of Pain) to help live out our dreams. Sadly, this will never come to pass. White people as a race are doomed to be "ground bound" due to our acute lack of vertical lift. In fact, we have to resort to space travel just to get our kicks, which is why you never see any black astronauts. I mean, if you could jump around any time you wanted, why risk going up in space and dying? We invented the Reebok pump because we honestly thought it would help. It didn't. So, we're left with little more than a dream of one day being able to self-elevate at will, without relying on toys and gimmicks but rather true, natural ability. Until then, however, we're going to continue in politics and big business, selfishly locking out the minorities because we're secretly jealous. That's why we're angry.
To P.Net Editors,
Hey, I recently heard from a friend of mine that you can find all kinds of stuff on the internet. You know, stuff like at-home bomb making, how to make explosives, and other cool stuff like that. I don't know much about computers but you guys seem hip, edgy, and knowledgable. I don't want to make them myself, I'm more interested in the science behind it. Is this true? Where can I find such things online?
-- Jacob
Hi Jacob,
We really don't care what you plan on doing with the information -- you simply can't go around asking questions like that. It's like asking someone how to get blood out of the carpet or semen stains out of your child's clothing. You're presumed guilty just by bringing the topic up. Sure you don't plan on using the information, "Jacob." That's probably short for something sterotypically middle-eastern like Jacob Al Fresco Recycle Bin Muhammed. Still, even if we actually gave a damn, we couldn't be of much help in this matter. You see, we've heard similar things about the content of the internet and have tried many times to find such things ourselves. Unfortunately, the PNC computer network is locked down and only lets us browse the pollestad.net website. I'm not sure why that policy is in place but presumably it's so we don't get used to looking at sites that don't suck. But rest assured that we will keep trying. If anything, we'd like very much to blow up that Burger King that screwed up our order this morning. Have it your way, my ass. We'll keep you posted. Oh, I realize it's a bit off-topic but you wouldn't happen to actually know how to get semen stains out of, say, a garment not meant to be worn by an adult, would you? Not that we really need to know -- it's strictly for informational purposes.
With that, we slam the lid shut on another round of mailbag fun. If you'd like to be in the studio audience for the next taping of the mailbag, please send some cash along with a topless photo of your sister/girlfriend (please include two if both terms apply -- yeah, we're talking to you, Kentucky). We're pretty sure you know the address already. If you don't, how did you plan on getting here to pick up the tickets? Stupid.
Knowing this, it's why we always take great pride everytime we venture into the PNC mail room. The fact that any of us can even find it at all is a testament to our humanitarian strength and desire to do wonderful things for people we don't know anything about. Either that or it means we got some bunk shit and our high is starting to wear off. Whatever color you say the sky is, it all boils down to the letters. Some make us cry, some make us laugh. Some even make us touch ourselves in spots normally reserved for priests and dirty uncles. We're more than happy to offer a helpful hand or some sage advice to those in need; to our fellow planitary inhabitants who write to the PNC because they are idiots with nowhere else to turn and they actually think that we can help. We love you guys. But don't let me get in the way, let us let the letters speak for themselves! On to the mailbag!
Dear PNC,
I'd like to consider myself a fairly healthy guy. I mean, I try and hit the gym at least twice a week, run when I can, and all that. I am extremely careful about what I eat, avoiding fast food and junk food for the part when I can. But this recent spinach scare got me really worried. Now I am afraid to eat things like salads because I can't be sure that it's really good for me. What do you guys think?
-- Reginald
Hello Reginald,
First, and if you don't mind me saying so, you sound like a pretentious douchebag. Fruits and vegetables are for sissy hippie people who care too much about the environment to eat a cow's leg or half a shark. You probably were an art major in college who smoked cigarettes to fit in but thought that you were being clever by only smoking the thin ones and that it made you more eclectic. In reality, it made you look like my sister dressed in men's clothing, ready to give a handjob to the first guy who offered you boxed wine.
But just as with everything in life, results can vary from day to day and topic to topic. You see, there was this one time that I really had to go to the bathroom. I did, but it turned out to just be a false alarm. As I was leaving, I felt an odd rumble in my stomach and really thought that I had to go this time. It turns out that that too was a false alarm. In fact, I don't think I actually used the restroom for at least another five hours. Spinach is a lot like that. You just never really know when it'll make you go to the bathroom but you should be prepared for the eventuality that it will occur. Besides, you shouldn't be so stuck up. There are a million AIDS patients who would simply die for a case of E. Coli. Ok, so those million people would have died eventually from AIDS but, hey, as long as Magic Johnson is still alive, there's hope.
Guys,
Hey, I really like the site and though I wouldn't call myself a big fan, I certainly enjoy it on occasion. Some of the jokes are a bit too tasteless or just plain unfunny but you can't be expected to strike gold all the time. However, the poor journalism aside, I have noticed a trend among most of the writers and that is the overall tone of anger in everything that gets written. Why are you guys so angry all the time? Is it steroids or something?
-- Joanne
Dearest Joanne,
We wish our problem was something as simple as steroids. Steroids is something you can quit. Sure, you might not be able to do it on your own so you hire a fat man to beat you with a baton everytime you think of popping one in your mouth, but you can break the addiction. No, you see, what fuels our anger is something far more complex and light years more sinister than any drug in circulation. We simply hate the fact that white men can't jump. You see, despite what history has shown us, white men aren't inherently bad. Sure, we've enslaved entire nations and wiped out populaces across the world but that is largely because we feel the need to compensate for our lack of true jumping ability. Throughout the course of known time, white men as a whole wanted to do nothing more than to jump; to frolic and play like the rest of the races. We have dreams of becoming good at sports and even write songs such as "Jump Around" (House of Pain) to help live out our dreams. Sadly, this will never come to pass. White people as a race are doomed to be "ground bound" due to our acute lack of vertical lift. In fact, we have to resort to space travel just to get our kicks, which is why you never see any black astronauts. I mean, if you could jump around any time you wanted, why risk going up in space and dying? We invented the Reebok pump because we honestly thought it would help. It didn't. So, we're left with little more than a dream of one day being able to self-elevate at will, without relying on toys and gimmicks but rather true, natural ability. Until then, however, we're going to continue in politics and big business, selfishly locking out the minorities because we're secretly jealous. That's why we're angry.
To P.Net Editors,
Hey, I recently heard from a friend of mine that you can find all kinds of stuff on the internet. You know, stuff like at-home bomb making, how to make explosives, and other cool stuff like that. I don't know much about computers but you guys seem hip, edgy, and knowledgable. I don't want to make them myself, I'm more interested in the science behind it. Is this true? Where can I find such things online?
-- Jacob
Hi Jacob,
We really don't care what you plan on doing with the information -- you simply can't go around asking questions like that. It's like asking someone how to get blood out of the carpet or semen stains out of your child's clothing. You're presumed guilty just by bringing the topic up. Sure you don't plan on using the information, "Jacob." That's probably short for something sterotypically middle-eastern like Jacob Al Fresco Recycle Bin Muhammed. Still, even if we actually gave a damn, we couldn't be of much help in this matter. You see, we've heard similar things about the content of the internet and have tried many times to find such things ourselves. Unfortunately, the PNC computer network is locked down and only lets us browse the pollestad.net website. I'm not sure why that policy is in place but presumably it's so we don't get used to looking at sites that don't suck. But rest assured that we will keep trying. If anything, we'd like very much to blow up that Burger King that screwed up our order this morning. Have it your way, my ass. We'll keep you posted. Oh, I realize it's a bit off-topic but you wouldn't happen to actually know how to get semen stains out of, say, a garment not meant to be worn by an adult, would you? Not that we really need to know -- it's strictly for informational purposes.
With that, we slam the lid shut on another round of mailbag fun. If you'd like to be in the studio audience for the next taping of the mailbag, please send some cash along with a topless photo of your sister/girlfriend (please include two if both terms apply -- yeah, we're talking to you, Kentucky). We're pretty sure you know the address already. If you don't, how did you plan on getting here to pick up the tickets? Stupid.