Sunday, October 20, 1996
You may view the following sections:
The other sections -- Braggart, Pix, Loser, and Feedback -- are too cumbersome
to archive. If you've got a problem with that, tell it to the Management.
Gotta problem with the gossip below? Sue me. Well, actually,
if you've got a "real" problem, let me know and I'll redact
names to protect the innocent.
Reaching an International Audience
Last issue, there was a fine
reference to "felching." It recommended writing to
Lizrod if you were unaware of the term's meaning. Guess
what? Somebody did:
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Close enough to get the cigar. And let this be a lesson
to the innocent reader: People are actually reading this
Date: Tue, 08 Oct 1996 10:15:40 +1000
I don't know if felching means the same thing there
as here, but we reckon it means someone sucking semen
out of someone's anus with a straw after they have been
fucked up the blurt.
-- Gloria, deuuugh.
Some guy likes this publication so much that he has actually
set up a link. Golly geez. I've never even met the guy.
He does have a pretty cool first name, though. Check it
New Year's Eve Party
We are proud to announce that
has become a corporate sponsor of the annual New Year's
Eve Party at the House on 20th Street.
(It should be noted that the aforementioned
corporate sponsor, desiring to receive extra publicity,
lobbied hard to have New Year's celebrated twice yearly.
Said request has been taken under consideration by the
Joint Committee on Timetables. A full report is expected
sometime next year.)
Special Guest Appearances by Madonna and Baby, Grant
Show and Heather Locklear of Melrose fame, and Kurt Russell
of Escape from LA.
RSVP Today! Call Chris at (703) 271-8197
Date: December 31, 1996
Place: 704 S. 20th Street, Arlington, VA 22202
Starting in mid-December, Regine will be leaving the
House to return to Germany. Therefor, we're looking for
a new housemate.
If you know anyone who might be interested, spread the
Word. Rent runs about $375 per month plus utilties. There
are six people in the House and a cat -- the Hobbes-A-Raptor.
Start time is sort of flexible.
Please e-mail gossip about yourself or others to The
Vomitorium. Feel free to spew about your friends.
We have several fine contributions this issue from readers
just like you. Thank you.
This section depends on your input. Be an eager beaver
and send in something. Send in submissions of all sizes.
If it causes fits, we'll print it.
To the Bladder that Knew No Chatter
By Claudine Hof
Oh that I could well express
The chill that settles on my breast (ahem).
I heave, I sigh, and clip my stockings
On for another night of defrockings.
Whither and dither, my fine young friend --
Time is a-flopping and near the end;
I see yon lemming clings to a tree
But not for long, my dear, you'll see.
Rodent-like, yes, but not at all uncommon,
He'll fling himself right down the bottom!
Find the Velveeta and call the Pope,
Before the bell rings the rope!
Some fan mail from the upstanding James Thomas:
(The following transmission was secretly intercepted
while en route to its destination.)
Rather than doing something useful like reading
for torts or examining the intricacies of Coase theorem
efficiency arguments, I have been reading the Loppy Land
web page of the afforementioned Chris Lopata (aka Elvis),
in which you [Liz Wilner], being the unofficial Graceland
lobbyist to Washington, would be interested to know, Mr.
Lopata admits to disliking Elvis' music and even goes
so far as to suggest a distaste for the man (known affectionately
by those of us who love him as The King and to others
as simply Daddy). This, I would submit, only proves that
Mr. Lopata cannot be trusted and must be disposed of.
Thank you for the tremendous support. Keep those comments
We've also had an excellent recommendation. Writes Lynn
Fischer: "You should start a personals section in the
Letter." So be it. Send personals to Unclassifieds.
Eric Hayot had another interesting (and somewhat Hayot-esque)
suggestion. He recommended that everyone submit their
cholesterol count so that we could compare notes. Why?
Who cares. It's a darn good idea. Send the figure to Vein
Clog. As an incentive, Eric's C-count is listed under
his blurb in the Braggart section.
Randall Cook offers some religious insights:
I have discovered the Nashville Network. For
months I thought it was only taking up valuable space
in my cable system, but now I understand its purpose:
The Dukes of Hazzard. On twice daily (1pm and 4 pm PDT).
I guess I hadn't discovered girls when it was first run
because Daisy Duke is a lot hotter than I remember. With
Chips, Starsky & Hutch, the Six Million Dollar Man, the
Simpsons, and Star Trek all on reruns (with no conflicts!),
it is truly a great time to be alive.
Keep the stuff flowing in. Make sure to type "soapbox"
on the subject line.
E-mail submissions to Soapbox
Contest of the Issue:
Send Along a Really Scary Story
E-mail entries should include "contest" in the subject line.
Send them to The Loppy Letter.
Entries containing some semblance of creativity, humor,
or strangeness will receive extra points from the judges.
Every issue or so, a winner will be selected. The top
entry will receive a prize -- like a coveted mention in
a pack of gum, a 1996 calendar, or $10 million. The management
reserves the right to republish all disturbing responses.
The determination of the East German judge is final.
Winner of Issue Two Contest:
Jack Musselman of Bloomington, Indiana is a winner!
Last month's contest simply asked for a good quote.
The winner was promised a "coveted mention in the Loppy
Letter, a toothbrush, or $10 million." Here's what Jack
had to say:
"If I remember my symbolic logic correctly,
there are eight possible truth-functional combinations
for a three-part disjunction; since a disjunction is true
when at least one (but perhaps more) of its disjuncts
is true, a three-part disjunction can be true in seven
distinct and different ways; since four of those seven
ways involve you losing $10 million (i.e. four of the
original eight possible truth-functional combinations
involve making it true that you lose $10 million), you
have (logically speaking) about a 50-50 chance of being
impoverished to the tune of ten big ones. So, unless you
are more clear about the legal obligations at stake here
(or unless you change the laws of logic), I think you
may be out some pocket change."
Yes, indeed, Jack. You strayed from the rules of the
contest by not providing a quote, but why be bound to
ironclad rules? True to your logic, you shall win three
prizes: a mention in this newsletter, a toothbrush (retail
value of $1.35), and a breath mint to be delivered on
your wedding day. Your philosophical wizardry and utter
geekdom will take you to new heights. Congrats!
First Runner Up is Roger Lopata, who submitted the following
"Without a Respectable Navy -- alas America."
No, not from the next episode of JAG wherein they
investigate the preponderance of felons in the student
population at Annapolis, but rather from John Paul Jones.
No, not the one who played in LedZepp. The one who lived
Second Runner Up is Jill Marsteller, who wrote:
"Women have served all these centuries as looking-glasses,
possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting
the figure of man at twice its natural size."
-- Virginia Woolf
To all other contestants, thank you for playing. Please
This issue's Bonus section features some exciting stories
about Puke. Think of this information as an addendum to
your newspaper's "Health" section.
Some common synonyms from Webster's New World Thesaurus
. . . Verbs: throw up, eject, bring up, dry heave, breaking
the toilet, be seasick, hurl forth, retch, ruminate, regurgitate,
rip loose, give forth, discharge, belch forth, spew out,
shooting projectiles, get sick, spew up, praying to the
porcelain god, upchuck.
"Puke" used a noun in a sentence . . . From Mike Hiestand
and Gregg Leslie of the Student Press Law Center and the
Reporter's Committee for Freedom of the Press: "We were
wondering where a little puke like you gets off listing
his favorite sites and not including the SPLC or RCFP
sites." Alas, gentlemen, you have been added on another
An intriguing, feminist empowerment story submitted
by Jill: "A college pal was drunk and feeling a bit rude
and accepted an offer of a blow job from an extremely
intoxicated woman he didn't know very well. He did not
find the woman particularly attractive, and by his own
admission, decided to enjoy her favor while reading a
newspaper. Had he paid closer attention, he might have
noticed her pallor and retching motion; but alas, he only
felt the results of her agony as she got sick all over
his lap. Traumatized, he related the story to friends
and earned for himself the nickname which follows him
to this day -- Chili Dog. For my part, I say it served
And, of course, faithful readers will recall the trials
and tribulations of an innocent steering wheel in Issue
Next issue: Bladder control problems. Please send in
the stories. They don't call this Yellow
Journalism for nothing.