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In This Issue

• Blind Guy Shows Us the Way
• Columbia's Cruel Iron Maiden
• Letter From the Editor
• Daddy Was a Shrink; Momma Was a Street Corner.
• Columbia Socialist Pronounces ‘Bourgeois’ The Right Way
• Holiday Thoughts for the Dysfunctional
• Dear Alma Mater
• Columbia Vs. Colombia
• WHAT TYPE OF DYSFUNCTIONAL IS YOUR FAMILY?
• Uncut Tales of Dysfunctional Literacy
• White Boys Need Money
• I Am So Not a Man
• Thanks, My Ass: Mohican Joe speaks out
• Press 'M' for Mezzanine... if Ye be Brave Enough
• Your Daily (read: Monthly) Horoscope
• Wacky Fun Whitey: Evil Just Like your Mom
• Newsbriefs
• THEY Watch
• The Staff of 17.4

This is the toast that I plan to offer for my Thanksgiving dinner. As I was writing it, I realized that I wanted to share it with the public, because I believe that most of these are universal. Feel free to include any or all of them while saying Grace or giving a toast at your family's Thanksgiving dinner. You may want to change the names or titles to make this list applicable to your situation.

I'm thankful for my family, as well as my bastard children who I shall not acknowledge. You, as my family, have all taught me valuable life lessons. Some have taught by example, and some by counter-example. Take Uncle Jim, who has been sober now for an entire six months. This is no easy task in general, but especially not for him. He is a very strong man who must deal with a son who just got back from Singapore, where he got a sex change and some, er, unique body art. Thankfully, his recent discovery of smack has lead to some of the most sedate reunions in recent memory. Uncle Jim's example has shown me that there isn't anything that can't be done with effort, even laying off the sauce! Thanks, Uncle Jim.

Next, there are some people who I don't even know to whom I owe great debts of gratitude. I want to thank Judge Stein of the Superior Court for that restraining order against the neighbors. I have never slept as well as I did last year, at home, secure in the knowledge that a court order prohibited them from doing doughnuts in the front lawn while waving their guns and carrying signs suggesting that we all insert various unwieldy objects into certain orifices.

I also want to thank the amazing medical researchers who developed Dad's new Tourette's medication. He hasn't been assaulted since he first took the drug, and his fights with Mom have shown a marked decrease. And in a related vein, here's a glass for Dr. Lundeen. His professional acumen and outstanding bedside manner has helped us all understand that over-medication is not an entirely bad thing, but rather something of a mixed bag.

And let's not forget Coach Donovan, who very recently made me a man. Rock solid, Coach.

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't also thank the governments of Canada, Mexico, and the Czech Republic, all of which decided not to try to have me extradited last year. I owe an extra special thank-you to the officials at the State Department who convinced them that petty offenses like disorderly conduct, public lewdness, and barroom brawling didn't require their attention.

I'd just like to end this toast by wishing everyone a Happy Thanksgiving, or, phrased more truthfully, may this year's commemoration of an exception to a consistent historical pattern of broken promises, abuse, and genocide be joyful.