• Join The Fed
• Advertise with The Fed

• About Us
• Contact

In This Issue

• The Issue of Suicide
• Potential Hobo Camp or Wussy Veldt?
• Choose Your Own Fed-venture
• Letters To and From The Editor
• Thumb-Addled Troglodytes
• Ed-in-Chief Joins Staff Diaspora
• Jesus is a Crappy Dermatologist
• Action Jacksons
• News Briefs
• On Action and the Philosophy of Inaction
• Wacky Fun Whitey Meets a Bum
• Fed Bash a Spanking Success
• Point / Counterpoint: Actions and Words
• Horoscopes Will Keep You Regular
• Revenge for Your Shitty Housing Lottery Number
• Columbia Needs Real Affirmative Action
• News Quiz
• THEY Watch
• The Staff of 16.9

Dearly Meg and Keenly likewise,

O, Miss Bliss! Respite has chanced my lackaday world with Night, the tender husk and kiss of quiet moonborne Light, the Swirl of sublime pleasure in raptured rapport with some Kindred Solace who May Deign (should the Wind Spirits, those breezy sometime deities under whose domain - and Wonder.Over.Excessfully entrenched in the sixdeepdirt - the fickle whims of Love and Loathing tend toward Backway Falls) to receive my fumbled late-night calls with a scantled soupcon of relief. These waft and warbled whispers what warp the dulcet sleep of my One and merely Lonely Feditor-In-Chief may small and tenuous be in gusty circumstance, but here, electronically configured for vacuum suction, let them rouse her well-worne Harte and yet romance the very proverbially Pants from her Silk and Sapor, corpus. But perhaps I’ve been too forward. Carrots and Peas lease me this allowance:

Introduxion. I have rot for your pubication meny time. I like science and jokes.
Will you be my frend?

Your most humble and obedient servant,
Ramsey M. Arnaoot, Esquire

Hello Ramsey,

This is your future Feditor-In-Chief speaking. I’m sorry that you have found me to be one and lonely, at the moment, I don’t think I can fit into either category. I’m sitting at my computer next to the FIC emeritus, and we still do have the lovely Anna in charge of things for another month or two.

Anyhow, I’d be glad to be your friend, but right now I’m neglecting Euripides. He gets jealous easily. I have to master a play full of odes by next Wednesday, and he gets uppity if the pronunciation is off.

’til later,
Meghan
-yunaika korou

Miss Keane,

Upon secondary review of your email by the White Ring Conspiracy’s Board of Eccellence, onto which your lightly lilting words were duly inscribed by the Officer of Trigeminous Emissions, I must unabashedly proclaim the Entire Affair to have been Unequivocally Sucessful. Furthermore I extend my most perverse Invitatory Incitations, pending the approval of the aforementioned B.o.E., toward yourself and the Lovely Chodess for any compromising pictorials, photographically configured in the pink, or, should you prefer, "birthday buff" that you may opt to submit for my perusal and subsequent enjoyment! I assure you that my praise and distribution of said materials will be tasteful and discrete. And now, is a Pome, spontaneously rendered for your Affection:

Time was the pretty lock and curl Pinioned by the pleasured girl, Root and seed entrenched in dire need of sordid Ravishment. Now driven petty pruned in sunlit home of guttered street and twilit age of toothless comb repast finds past her prime a lasting shame for crump and lettered drool, the strumpet’s nominative fame, doddering mammaries, and the blandishments of a fool. Marry me Meghan, and we will meet the future hand in hand. With a Brimming Abundance of Love and Obsession what only we half-mouthed bottom-feeders may proffer, Tuus sum, in perpetuum, Phineas Snodgrass