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In This Issue

• Get Your Freak On, Dorks
• (Almost) Rejected by Israeli Security
• Beaten by the Retard: Adventures in Drama
• Letters to and from the Fed's Maxima and Co.
• Columbia Hipsters Are So Shallow You Think You’re in High School
• Are You a Terrorist? The Government's Shocking Answer
• Failed Terrorist Herbie Bin Laden Marries Jewish Wife, Dabbles in Scientology
• Poetry.com: Your High School Poems are Waiting for You…
• Bottled Water: Bigger than Jesus, and now Semen Free
• Revolve magazine: The Seventeenth Seal
• I Passed the Oral but Failed the Urine
• Horribly Hassled Hermaphrodites Harangue Humanity
• Trial and Error Your Way to Perfect Genital Design
• Shot Down! : Rejections Made Simple
• Your College Essay, but with less Suck
• New Twenties Bring Back Tired Old Monopoly Money Jokes

First it was Unitarians, then the Beatles.  Now Aquafina attempts to outdo Jesus.  And why not?  If 16th century clergymen could charge a sixpence for each otherwise-damned soul, why not charge the too-cool-for-water-fountain populace $1.50 to enjoy a good bladder-full?  Health-experts tell us that if our piss is yellow, we need more water.  I personally prefer yellow piss, since clear piss necessitates more trips to the toilet, or shower drain as the case may  be, but then again I’m not the religious type.

My theory that bottled water has finally eclipsed the recent Jesus fad is based on the simple idea that the more water things have, the closer they are to God.  This notion has been validated again and again throughout history.  Some of the earliest, and coolest, gods in history lived atop the snow-covered Olympus.  According to science, snow is 100% water, slightly less where the huskies go.  Buddha, the portly homeboy of our eastern friends, is fatter than his average follower for a reason.  Fat people have more sweat, and sweat is mostly water.  And the obvious: Jesus was a fisherman.  In his day, when the Dead Sea actually contained water, it teemed with jesusfish.  And yet, Jesus was only a man, only 80% water.

Snapple juices, including the new Snapricot Orange and Go Bananas, are 10% juice and therefore 90% water (juice is an entirely independent molecule from water), which is a slightly lower concentration of the good stuff than Zeus, Vishnu, and Yahweh, however considerably higher than Jesus or, say, L. Ron Hubbard who clock in at a less-than-spectacular 80%.  Considering this data, it becomes apparent that 90% is about the point at which the earthly becomes divine.  It’s no coincidence that this number was chosen to constitute the best stuff on Earth.  God himself chose a 90% water content for manna, our little friend the mushroom, to whom the Israelites owe their survival during their flight from Egypt and we monotheistic men owe the shape of our trouser rousers, according to some.

So all of us who are too busy for church can now bypass all of the Jesus stuff and drink down pure, holy goodness from nifty plastic bottles.  Why continue to go to church after you’ve reached the age when the sip of Christ’s blood no longer fucks you up, that’s what I say.  Why go to mass every Easter, or worse, every Sunday, when holy water is found to be primarily seminary fluids?  Good old Aquafina is 100%, and as long as the seal wasn’t broken when you got it, it contains no ejaculate.

So now that it is less work than ever before to be into God, I figure why not join the bandwagon and invest that $1.50 every day to get a bottle of Aquafina, Deer Park, or Volvic Water.  They’re even refillable, and if you still want to be lax in your devotion, then go for the Poland Spring pint.  Sorry Jesus but you no longer hold any water.  If you come back with a beverage more refreshing than chilled H2O, then maybe I’ll listen.  But until that day, I’ll stick with Aquafina.