Issue number: 18
Posted on: June 6th,
1999
The next issue will
appear, like clockwork, some time pretty soon.
This Issue:
Ever since the tragic high school
shootout in a Denver suburb, the National Arms Devotees Association has been
increasingly concerned about its image, especially in the eyes of young
people. In an attempt to improve relations with youth, two of its
best-known apologists have agreed to host this new advice column for teenagers.
Got a problem at school?
Parents don't understand? Boyfriend/girlfriend trouble? Address
your letters to:
in c/o This Publication
Dear Chuck and Jesse,
I have this problem at school.
There's this girl who sits in front of me in biology class and I think she's
like really, ... well it's not like I'm actually... but sort of... well, yeah,
I think she's really...... like...... neat..................... ,
...................... and everything. You know? But
she never pays any attention to me and I think she doesn't even know I
exist. How can I get her to notice me?
S.T., Smallsville
Chuck says:
As any US Marshall can tell you,
nothing gets an attractive young lady's attention faster than the distinctive
ka-choonk
of a shell being racked into the chamber of a pump-action shotgun. I
recommend the Wessington 12-gauge double-barrel over-under model because of its
high-precision machining, fine craftsmanship, extended range, sturdy yet
ergonomic design and the fact that you can disable the safety with a
Q-tip. Keep one of those babies in your locker and you'll have to fight
the girls off with a stick! Or a rock. Wait -- what am I
saying? You know what to fight them off with! Good hunting, kid!
Jesse says:
By the way, if something really
bizarre and horrible happens and you aren't able to get your hands on a gun,
you can always try tattooing the girl's name on your forehead. Not only
will that get her attention, but then she'll know that you're really
serious. And don't get a professional job either -- if you do it yourself
in the bathroom mirror with a darning needle and a fountain pen, she'll know
you really care.
(Hint: double-check the spelling of
her name before you heat up the needle. And remember that everything is
reversed in the mirror, so you have to go from left to right. No, wait --
I mean right to left. Also, you have to make every other letter
backwards. I think.)
Dear Chuck and Jesse,
I am 11 years old. My parents
have a gun cabinet in the basement. They keep it locked all the time, but
I found out where the key is, in Dad's sock drawer under his stack of soft-porn
magazines from 1979. But the thing is: now that I know how to open the
gun cabinet, I find out there's nothing in it. Empty! No guns, no
ammo, not even a duck call. Dad says he's thinking about converting it
into an aquarium.
I can't believe how unfair this
is. What am I supposed to do when I get older and start feeling
alienated? What good will it do me to watch countless hours of violent
movies and video games if I can never get my hands on a real gun?
R.M., Punyburg
Chuck says:
One thing you didn't tell us
here. You say you're 11 years old, but can you pass for 21? If so,
your problems are over. I take it you don't have any arrest record or
history of mental illness, so you should be able to paste on a false mustache
and stock up on a whole arsenal of quality firearms at any of the fine gun
shows held regularly near you.
Jesse says:
Of course, you're going to need some
money to buy those guns, and for a person your age, considering the job market,
the child labor laws and the union regulations in your state, I would recommend
armed robbery. You're not likely to get more than 6 months in a juvenile
facility if they get you, and I did say "if". Let's face it, 60
or 70% of all armed robberies don't even get reported. The store owners
are insured -- what do they care? So here's what you do: get a gun,
and... Oh wait -- I guess that's where we started here, isn't it?
Chuck?
Chuck says:
Well, you could always join your
local junior chapter of the NADA and ask to borrow a weapon from one of the
many like-minded friends and reliable companions you're sure to meet.
Jesse says:
Yeah, there you go! Like
Chuck, here: he'd always be more than happy to lend me one of his sidearms,
wouldn't you Chuck?
Chuck says:
Of course! In fact, here you go.
Jesse says:
Hey -- I've never seen one like
this. Where'd you get it?
Chuck says:
Got it made special in Beirut.
Jesse says:
What's this thing for?
Chuck says:
No! Don't touch that!
Jesse says:
What the...
Editor's note:
From now on, please address
your letters to:
in c/o This Publication
Dear Jesse and Wayne,
Please settle an argument.
Last Thursday my best friend and I went to the mall to pick up a gold chain I
was having cleaned at the jewelry shop. The chain wasn't ready, so I
started to argue with the clerk, saying that if they didn't have it done on
time they had to do it for free. Then the clerk looked up the work order,
which said that the chain wasn't supposed to be ready until Friday. So
all right, it was my mistake, but I felt so humiliated, instead of backing down
I just made an even bigger scene.
Finally, my friend dragged me out of
there telling me to lay off 'cause the clerk was right. Which he was, but
I say that because she's my friend she should always take my side in a dispute,
even if I'm wrong. She says you should always do what you think is right no
matter what. I think she's wrong. Who's right?
P.M., Micropolis
Jesse says:
You should always do what you think
is right.
Dear Jesse,
So I'm right, because what I think
is right is that my friend should back me up even if I'm wrong.
P.M.
Jesse says:
No, I mean you should always do what
you
think is wrong.
Dear Jesse,
But what I think is wrong is her
idea that you should always do what you think is right. And what I think
is right is that you should always back up your friend even if she's
wrong. So I'm still right.
P.M.
Jesse says:
No, I meant that you were wrong.
Dear Jesse:
I know I was
wrong. I already said that. But she should have backed me up and
you just said so.
P.
Jesse says:
No I didn't.
Dear Jesse,
Yes you did.
Jesse says:
When?
Dear Jesse:
Just now.
Jesse says:
Did not.
Dear Jesse:
Did too.
Jesse says:
Did not.
Dear Jesse:
Did too.
Jesse says:
[BLAM!!]
Dear Jesse,
Uggggggghh.
Wayne says:
Well, I guess that about settles
that. Next?
Dear Jesse and Wayne,
I just turned 20 last month but I
hope I still qualify as a teen, 'cause I really need your help. Two weeks
ago, I moved in with my girlfriend. So far she has asked me to take my
shoes off when I come into the apartment, not to hang my jacket on top of hers,
not to leave the newspaper folded open to an inside page, to be sure the TV
magazine is always on top of the TV, to leave all the remote controls together
in one place, to stop saying "no problemo", not to hum when I'm
washing dishes, to use one kind of towels for drying plates and another for
silverware, to use only sponges for spills on the counter and only paper towels
for spills on the floor, to keep perishable items separate from non-perishables
in the refrigerator, not to sit on the bed if I'm wearing my jeans, not to wear
my red pants any more, to sleep on my side to prevent snoring, not to clear my
throat loudly in the morning, not to yell when I sneeze, to make sure my socks
aren't bunched up when I put them in the laundry hamper, not to leave the
fingernail clipper unfolded, to squeeze the toothpaste tube from the bottom, to
rinse my toothbrush better, to wipe out the sink and shower immediately every
time I use them, to replace the toilet paper roll with the new sheet coming off
the top, and of course to keep the toilet seat down.
In the same two-week period, I have
asked her not to use my razor to shave her legs, especially since her razor is
always sitting right next to it. She continues to use my razor almost
every day, saying that she forgets, meanwhile yelling at me for putting the
ketchup next to the butter as though it's some kind of unthinkable crime
against humanity.
I say she should cut me some slack
and she says that I don't know how to do even the most basic things. What do
you think?
F.B., Runt Junction
Jesse says:
I think your girlfriend sounds like
a woman I used to go out with.
Wayne says:
Would that have been back in your
pro wrestling days there, Jess?
Jesse says:
No -- after that, when I was running
for governor.
Wayne says:
Hey, by the way, who would you say
gets more chances to meet women, athletes or politicians?
Jesse says:
Well, it's hard to say, but I think
the athletes probably have the edge there. I remember this one time. . .
The Editor says:
Hey, guys? You want to stop
dicking around and finish the column, or what?
Wayne says:
[BLAM!!]
The Editor says:
[thud]
Jesse
says:
What'd
yuh do that for?
Wayne says:
Nobody
bosses me around. He was violating my 21st amendement rights.
Jesse says:
You
trigger-happy idiot -- we needed him! He put's everthing we write into
legibel form and does all the layout. Plus he's the only one knows how to
spell.
Wayne says:
Also
I hate the expression 'dicking around'.
Jesse says:
Well
whuddo we do now?
Wayne says:
Wait
a sec, their's someone at the door.
A Messenger says:
Hey
you guys, I have some kind of bad news for you from This Publication...
Wayne says:
[BLAM!!]
Jesse says:
We're
not suppos' tuh do that.
Wayne says:
I
know, but I don't wan' any witnusses.
Jesse says:
We
better get outta here.
Wayne says:
We
can take the emergency exit, down the back stares and threw the alley.
Jesse says:
Awright,
les go.
Wayne says:
And
who you callin 'trigger happy'? Yer the one shot Chuck and that chain
girl.
Jesse says:
Shut
up 'n' run.
Dear Jesse and Wayne,
Isn't
the 21st amendment the repeal of prohibition?
E.L.,
San Pequeno
Dear Jesse and Wayne,
Hello?
Anybody?
Hmmm.
Guess I'll vote for stricter gun control when I grow up.
©1999 by David Jaggard. All rights reserved worldwide.