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In This Issue

• The Spec Almost Led Me Into White Slavery
• Where Have All the Strippers Gone?
• Abused by Geriatrics Without Prozac
• Letters to the Editor(s)
• Marauding Interviewer
• Free to Speak? Shut Up!
• Where It's Safe to Sodomize
• Unionized Columbians Become Denizens of Primal Gangland
• CAVA Shifts Focus from Medicine to Profitability
• Garment Grabber Liberates Clothes From Floor
• Legless Pigeon Recounts Tales of Early Abuse
• Geek has +9 Indifference Cloak Against Discrimination
• Columbia Hits Me Where the Bruises Will Never Show
• We Have a Film Critic?
• The Future Is Now, and It's Pointing and Laughing
• Juice Review - A Mango Juice Odyssey
• Fed Favorites
• I Hate You Damn Happy People
• Your Pets Will Be Waiting for You in Hell
• Fruitloop and Dandy
• Wacky Fun Abuse!
• My AIM is True
• A Word from Our Advertisers
• THEY Watch
• The Staff of 17.7

Katie O'Shea

At age eighteen I became a drugstore delivery boy, an occupation that sits at the bottom of the delivery boy totem pole. While pizza delivery boys (if the porn industry is to be believed) routinely deal with platinum-haired, silicone-filled, cum-guzzling sluts in a sexually charged atmosphere (what with the extra sausage, meat lover's supreme, and so on), drugstore delivery boys deal with the platinum-haired, Geritol-filled, cum-guzzling sluts of yesteryear, now known as old folk.

In my dealings with old folk, I learned that they don't want to pay a lot for their pharmaceutical and home medical needs, and I also learned that I was personally responsible for the high price of said needs. Countless were the times that some golden-ager chewed me out because his/her Preparation H/oxygen tank/walker cost more than it did during the rule of Vespasian.

In situations like these, logic is doomed to fail. It's nigh-impossible to convince someone who believes that you have the ability to control market forces and government monetary policy that you're just some sweaty teenager who makes $4.75 an hour. Physical aggression might seem like an effective solution, but if I've learned anything from watching Hulk Hogan's numerous WWF title defenses, it's that pounding the crap out of a nonagenarian is not only ethically shaky, it's also quite difficult.

Fortunately, my work with the geriatric set has given me some insight into how to smooth old people over. The next time Gramps gets pissed and waves his cane around in what you perceive to be a menacing way, keep the advice that follows in mind.

The Price Is Right

There's a Dutch proverb (no, really) that roughly translates "there are no universal truths (and not even this is universally true)." But if there's one that thing comes close, it's that old people capital-L love The Price Is Right. Skinny microphones, a white-haired gent with pocketfuls of crisp hundred dollar bills, women of questionable morals stroking dinette sets-for old people, TPIR truly has it all. In the interest of self-defense against the elderly, I recommend carrying tapes (VHS and Beta) of TPIR. The moment you feel threatened, pop the tape in the nearest VCR and watch your would-be assailant's frown turn upside-down. But be smart. Old people don't care for new-fangled pricing games, so go light on the Plinko and heavy on fundamentals like Hole-In-One.

Peanut Butter

One thing that has become clear to me over the years is that old people eat like Chris Klein acts. Put something in an old person's mouth and watch the titanic struggle between man and Manwich ensue. So as soon as the invective starts flying toward you, calmly approach your verbal abuser, gently restrain him or her with one hand, and stuff spoonfuls of Jif down his or her maw with the other to render the old codger mute. Be forewarned, however, that the use of Chunky Style could lead to extensive litigation.

Ego stroking

Unless you actually are Catherine Zeta-Jones, the closest you‘ll want to come to fellating an old person is speaking reverently about the many heroic exploits of their age group. Stay out of trouble with the aged by using hushed, somber tones to convey your respect for the plucky souls who invented the cotton gin, tamed the Old West, built the pyramids, and kept our great nation safe from the O.G. Axis of Evil. Use of the phrase "The Greatest Generation" could even lead to shrieks of orgasmic rapture.

Follow these tips and you should be able to fend off the onslaught of emotional and physical pain that the elderly have in store for you. Above all, be patient, and remember that old people are just like you and me, only wrinklier, crankier, and with a much more ridiculous sense of entitlement.