============================================= C H I P' S C L O S E T C L E A N E R Humor * Trivia * Pop Culture * Fun ============================================= I S S U E N O. 12 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ All contents (c) copyright Chip Rowe or individual authors. E-mail: chip@interaccess.com Visit Chip's Home Page! URL http://www.chiprowe.com +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Contents: Letters Thoughts & Comments Liz Phair-o-Matic Supplement to the Catalog From Hell The Reader's Bill of Rights Danger Among Us Sex With My Computer ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ LETTERS I have received your letter regarding publications for our prisoners. The purpose of only allowing prisoners to receive books and magazines from an approved publisher is to lessen the possibility that friends and family would use these items to smuggle contraband into the prison. Consequently your type of publication would not be approved. Robert E. LeCureux, Warden Hiawatha Correctional Facility Hiawatha, Michigan Good to know there's someone in Chicago who enjoys reading Batteries Not Included [see review in issue 11]. I've been hired to write third-string fetish reviews (without pay) for Video Xcitement. God only knows what madness this will bring in addition to sitting on the foot of the bed at 1 a.m. watching people spank each other with fake whips. Although BNI has brought me a small amount of infamy, it has not yet produced the cash necessary to buy the TV or VCR I need so that I don't have to wait until my daughter is asleep. I wear earphones so she doesn't have to be kept awake by those awful dubbed-in whip cracks. I read your pieces in the new Factsheet 5 and was touched to see mention of me. Had you only come to the censorship panel you could have been the one person to laugh when I started my spiel with, "My name's Dick, and I'm a pornographer." Richard Freeman Yellow Springs, Ohio The Washington Post photo in CCC #11 of the guy watching the sky for falling crap was taken by my housemate, Bill O'Leary. Coin- cidence? He wants you to know that mis- appropriation of copyrighted materials is a crime and he's going to tell Kay Graham on you. Watch the skies yourself, pal. Dave Nuttycombe Washington City Paper "How to Put Your Husband Through College"?!! "Entertaining to Please Him"!! I just wanted to thank you for letting me know of these two additions to my want list, and to let you know that I am jealous, so very jealous. In a feeble attempt at one-upmanship -- no, make that "In a sisterly attempt at sharing the book-thrifting spirit," I enclose copies of the covers of two of my personal favorites, "The Feminists" and "How to Meet Men...Now That You're Liberated." Lynn Peril Mystery Date ("One Gal's Guide to Good Stuff") San Francisco, California The dumb articles in your "zine" are not worth shit, but since I like the pics of Charlotte wearing your T-shirts, here's some cash. Too bad you haven't progressed beyond the weird self-centered screw-up you were as a kid! Uncle Bob Hillsborough, North Carolina I discovered your publication just today at a bookstore in Burlington, Vermont. How the fuck did it get way up here to the hills of Vermont? No matter. I've found its tortured and twisted humor the sort of thing that makes your tongue turn black and your finger- nails fall out a week later. I particularly enjoyed "My Girlfriend Wears My Favorite T- Shirts." I wondered if you'd consider using MY girlfriend to model some of your OTHER favorite clothes in a future issue. Craig Bailey Burlington, Vermont *That depends Craig. Are you coming too? Charlotte's kind of cute. How did you meet her? Publishing someone's picture in your magazine legally marries you in Samoa. You can look it up. The Rev. Tom Willadsen Mankato, Minnesota I read the latest Cleaner on an airline flight. The elderly Indian woman dressed in a traditional sari and full head covering was looking over my shoulder the ENTIRE TIME. She seemed particularly interested in the SHIT article and masturbation euphemisms. Anne McCord Oakland, California Thanks for CCC #11. Your Catalog from Hell was just that. Many years ago, I worked in a pottery store called Mud in Your Eye. Ugh. Anyway, we sold jillions of those frog-in-mug things. I used to ask "Why would anyone be delighted to find a hidden frog in their coffee?" Standard reply: "It's adorable." Al Hoff Thrift Score Thank you for the Chip's Closet Cleaner, but it's not something we currently wish to carry. Four bucks is too much and making fun of blind people and mentally retarded people is fucked up. They're [sic] lives are hard enough as it is. I know you're a middle class white boy but not everyone else has it so easy. Is a cheap laugh worth another's suffering? Jan Blacklist Mail Order I thought you'd like to know that although Tony Hendra (aka Ian Faith -- see Spinal Tap article in CCC #11) was not carrying a cricket bat when you met him, he is not entirely without his sports equipment oriented affectations. One of his first executive moves as the new editor of Spy was to install -- at the magazine's expense -- a full-size punching bag in the back of the office. Needless to say, he never used it once. By the way, you should have asked him if he remembered his lines from "Life With Mikey." Daniel Radosh New York You're an absolute nut! The Closet Cleaner has really become a legacy, from grade school to the present. Some of it I love. The "Top Tips" in your Issue 11 was nicely funny. But I think you're better and bigger than all of your off-the-wall sex articles and jokes. (Save those for Playboy.) I just think to myself, "Are those the types of writings you want to be remembered for? And how are you going to find a wonderful lady?" Aren't most girls a little scared of becoming serious with you because of your writings? I say this in sincerity, Chip. You are a wonderful, brilliant man. I'd like to see you evaluate and reconsider your direction. Lisa Granger Lansing, Michigan *You should have seen what I was writing about in grade school. Some kudos from a stranger. I read the August 94 issue of Spy on a plane coming back from Pensacola, Florida, yesterday. Your piece on the Internet literally had me weeping with laughter. The lady with the kid next to me was decidedly leery. Scott Norvell Atlanta, Georgia Just read the latest CCC and I want you to know that it rocked and rolled and whatnot! I was happy to see that we own a lot of the same stuff, namely Viz, the Encyclopedia of Graffiti and Beer Frame. Have you ever read "Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Sex* *But Were Afraid to Ask"? It is the stupidest book ever written. But lots of laughs. Charlotte is very cute. I covet your Felix and His Amazing Underpants shirt. Gina Duclayan New York I loved CCC, but I think you need to examine the coupon issue again. Double and triple coupon redemption changes the equation considerably. Plus, on items for which there are plentiful coupons, it is often cheaper to buy smaller containers with a higher price per ounce several times over than to buy one large container. Barb McDonald Columbia, Missouri I just got your Closet Cleaner. It's looking snazzier and snazzier, but how many times are you going to milk that tired old Stone Soup rejection letter? Gabi Solomon Lawrenceville, New Jersey *Don't know. How many times do I have left? I think after reading that article in Spy, I'd have to say that Chip Rowe is the biggest fucking poseur on the Net. How could someone with so much *knowledge* flame the net so hard-core? Oh, I see. He writes for the cutting edge Playboy, then mocks alt.sex.masturbation. He's either the biggest asshole or the biggest troll in print. Whatch ya think? Oh yeah, where was the Net address, Chip? Hide behind the media, you social wannabe. By the way, nice goat! Josh Hughes via the Net -------------------------------------------------- THOUGHTS AND COMMENTS GIMME A MAJOR BREAK DEPT. Gainesville, Florida -- Serial killer Danny Rolling apologized yesterday for stabbing, murdering and mutilating five college students, while asking the judge to spare him from the electric chair. "I regret with all my heart what my hand has done for I have taken what I cannot return," Rolling said. Rolling, who had previously burst into song during the court hearings, told the judge he wished he could turn the clock back to before the August 1990 murder. "Ah but alas, I am not the keeper of the time, only a small part of history and the legacy of mankind's fall from grace." Earlier, the judge had watched a videotaped statement from Rolling's mother, Claudia Rolling, who offered to accept the death penalty in his place. "Take me," she said. "I'm the one who had to have failed him somewhere." ODD THOUGHTS DEPT. What would a chair look like if your knees bent the other way? --from Bubba's Live Bait ANDY, YOU'RE AN IDIOT DEPT. From a column by Andy Rooney: "It's a good thing that.... --Birds can fly, otherwise cats would have killed them all. --Chocolate dissolves in milk or we wouldn't have chocolate milk. --It's dark at night. --Baseball isn't played in a gym because the players would be spitting on the floor. --There are no pits in marshmallows. --Chalk is white or you wouldn't be able to see it on the chalkboard. --We have wet tongues or we couldn't lick stamps. --Grass doesn't grow in the winter because we wouldn't have time to mow the lawn and shovel snow too." NIKKI ICK From a Rolling Stone article about the heavy metal band Motley Crue: It's 5 p.m. the day before the show in Phoenix, and Nikki Sixx is poolside, drinking a Bloody Mary and eating a platter of shrimp. A proud mother brings over her four-year-old, Tommy, to meet him. "He knows all your music," she says. "Hi Tommy!" says Nikki, shaking his tiny hand. "What do you wanna do when you grow up?" Tommy, shied into muteness, shrugs. "A rock star?" He nods. Sixx is ecstatic. "You don't want to be a fireman or the president?" Tommy shakes his head no. "Why's that, so can get all the girls?" Tommy grins. "You can do whatever you want," says Sixx, clearly happy to be preaching his main message to such a ready convert. "Go jump in that pool with all your clothes on!" Tommy hesitates, frowning slightly. He looks at the pool, then at his mother, then at Sixx. "Go for it!" Sixx urges. Tommy's mother's smile tightens. "That's too deep for you," she says and grabs his arms, leading him off. "I love kids," Sixx says fondly, as he watches them walk away. HORRIBLE SMUT DEPT. A sampling from the January 1994 letters page of Destination Discovery, the monthly magazine of the squeaky clean and wholesome Discovery Channel: * Some months ago I entered a subscription to your magazine in my daughter's name. After reading the article about AIDS ("A Journal From the Plague Years: Life in an AIDS Clinic"), which included quotes from male prostitutes, I realized I do not want my daughter exposed to this trash. This issue is a severe disappointment to me and my family, if not an out-and-out insult. * The article by Kathryn Marshall ("Spellbound: The Mists of Choice") has no place in any magazine. She belittles the culture of the people she visited and attacks the Catholic church. The article is self-focused on one who seems to be at least tempted by the powers of darkness. It is becoming more widely known that feminists and otherwise unhappy women are among those tantalized and tempted by witchcraft; many are actively involved. * Many people, well-meaning, well-educated, honest people all, insist on calling the environment "the ecology." When our own Atlanta Constitution did it, I forgave. When Smithsonian magazine did it, I was upset for days, but I didn't write. Now you have done it ("The Last Page: It's the Ecology, Stupid.") I am convinced that ecology is the study of some, any or all environments, also legitimately called eco- systems, but not in good conscious the ecology. * In the October issue, page 53, you refer to two- eyed sloths. Are there other kinds? Is this to distinguish them from spectacled bears? * In a world that is rife with child pornography, how could you condone the cover of the September issue? The little girl with one strap hanging off her shoulder is an example of what is wrong today. Not only is it an unnatural pose (obviously the photographer set it up), it is done in a manner to suggest sex. Morons. ------------------------------------------------ SUPPLEMENT TO THE CATALOG FROM HELL [all actual products and catalog descriptions] ELVIS ORNAMENT Fans and followers of Elvis will be pleased to give this ornament a place of honor on their Christmas trees (and may want to keep it around after the holidays are over). The 3.25" diameter satin ball has 2 full- color pictures of Elvis against a black background; "Elvis Presley 1935-1977" is screened in gold script. $5.49 COMF-O-MATE Give yourself a little more room to breath (or eat!). Pants/jeans extender can add a whole size to your waist for those times when you need a bit more room. Fastens easily to regular button and buttonhole, is incon- spicuous when covered by a belt buckle or clothing. Comes in 4 colors to go with jeans, skirts or slacks. $3.98 CAR CHRISTMAS TREE When you can't be home for the holidays, take the Christmas spirit on the road. The festive little 9" high plastic Christmas tree attaches to any interior window of your vehicle with 2 suction cups (included); has 5 miniature lights that plug into the car cigarette lighter. The cord is about 9.5' long so you can attach the tree anywhere in your car. Have tree, will travel. $6.98 HAIR CUTTING SYSTEM Save hundreds of dollars each year in haircut costs with the revolutionary hair cutting system that you've seen on TV! With Flowbee, you and your family can safely get over 1,000 goof-proof precision-layered haircuts in the privacy of your own home... it's guaranteed! Just connect Flowbee to your vacuum and its patented blade design gives you the perfect cut, while the clippings go directly into your vacuum. Will not work on tightly curled hair. Works with most vacuums. $49.99 VOICE-ACTIVATED BARK CONTROL COLLAR Just as a dog always knows his master's voice, this advanced bark control collar knows yours and your dog's! A voice recognition chip memorizes your dog's unique bark and your voice command. Then when your dog barks or you repeat your command, the collar will issue a series of warning beeps. If barking continues, a mild correction is administered, which lasts only as long as the barking continues, up to 25 seconds. The collar then shuts off for 30 seconds before resetting itself. You'll be happier because your dog will learn to bark less and your dog will be happier because he's doing what his master wants. $49.99 --------------------------------------------- LIZ PHAIR-O-MATIC by Daniel Radosh Looking for something nice to say about rocker and Chicago native Liz Phair? You wouldn't be alone. Her debut album, Exile In Guyville, has achieved what one of the highest ink-spilled-to-albums-sold ratios ever. Anyone looking to write the next Liz Phair-o-phile article need only consult the chart below to see how it's done: THE SOUND Spin: Dazzlingly tuneful. Option: Hugely melodic. Rolling Stone: Unapologetically catchy. Village Voice: Smart Entertainment Weekly: Catchy. Los Angeles Times: Raw but catchy. QUOTES RAUNCHY LYRICS? Spin: Yes. "I'll fuck you till your dick is blue."; "I want to be your blowjob queen"; "I'm a real cunt in spring." LA Weekly: Yes. "dick is blue."; "blowjob queen." Option: Yes. "blowjob queen"; "cunt in spring." Rolling Stone: Yes. "dick is blue."; "blow-job queen." Village Voice: Yes. "blowjob queen." Entertainment Weekly: No. Instead praises "re- freshing, rapper-like frankness when it comes to sex." Los Angeles Times: No. Refers to "blunt sexual references." Newsweek: No. Notes that one song is "so explicit as to defy paraphrase, except to say the narrator has an oral fixation." Esquire: Partially. "blow-job queen"; "fuck you like a dog, take you home and make you like it." San Francisco Chronicle: No. Notes that "Phair doesn't flinch at the use of certain vulgarities." DESCRIBE ALBUM COVER? Spin: Yes. "A fetching, bare-shouldered photo" LA Weekly: Yes. "I'm topless on my album cover," she says. Option: Yes. "a skillfully cropped topless photo- booth shot" Rolling Stone: Yes. "Guyville's blurry cover photograph features a snarling Phair--flashing." Village Voice: No, but quotes fan asking, "Are those really Liz's tits?" Entertainment Weekly: No. Los Angeles Times: Yes. "a strategically cropped photo-booth picture of the topless singer screaming her head off." MENTIONS MOM AND DAD IN DISCUSSING POP CREDIBILITY AND INDIE ROCK COOLNESS? Spin: As "two academics" Rolling Stone: Reports they "handled it as well as any parents hearing their daughter croon 'I want to be your blow-job queen' ever have." Entertainment Weekly: Reports that they "seem to have coped" with the raunchy lyrics. Los Angeles Times: Reports that "Though moms and dads aren't usually mentioned when discussing pop credibility or indie rock coolness, Phair says that they are two of her most supportive fans." Newsweek: Disputes official press bio assertion that "when she was growing up...her mother read Victorian erotica aloud." INSIGHTFUL COMPARISONS TO... Spin: Madonna LA Weekly: Joni Mitchell, PJ Harvey, Riot Grrrls Option: Joni Mitchell Los Angeles Times: Juliana Hatfield Newsweek: Riot Grrlls, Juliana Hatfield Esquire: Madonna, Joni Mitchell, Riot Grrrls, Juliana Hatfield, PJ Harvey San Francisco Chronicle: Joni Mitchell WORD USED TO DESCRIBE ALBUM'S ATTEMPT AT SONG-BY-SONG RESPONSE TO EXILE ON MAIN STREET Spin: analytical LA Weekly: arrogant Option: ambitious Rolling Stone: compulsive Village Voice: ironic Los Angeles Times: feminist Newsweek: subversive Esquire: neurotic San Francisco Chronicle: postfeminist ------------------------------------------ THE READER'S BILL OF RIGHTS 01. The right to not read. 02. The right to skip pages. 03. The right to not finish a book. 04. The right to re-read. 05. The right to read anything. 06. The right to escapism. 07. The right to read anywhere. 08. The right to browse. 09. The right to read aloud. 10. The right to not defend your tastes. From "Better Than Life," by Daniel Pennac ---------------------------------------- CLOTHES CALL by Tom Willadsen Sometimes I can see a week ahead that I'll need to do laundry. Other times, like this morning, I look into my underwear drawer (for one's supply of underwear is the only worthwhile test as to whether one should do laundry) and say, "Whoa, little Tommy needs to do some laundry." Laundry isn't a huge chore for me. I practice a kind of pragmatic apartheid: If it's lighter than my gray Peoria High T-shirt, it's white. All my other clothes are colors. Today was a day when I had to wash my white things. But not because all my underwear is white -- over the past year I have acquired underwear that is black, red, maroon, even striped. Still, most is white and so it was the supply of white underwear that prompted me to address myself as "little Tommy." My building's laundry room is one of those forgotten, dusty, overly bright rooms in a yuppie-filled building. There are little fossils of forgotten drops of Tide, Era, Dynamo and other detergents on the rims of the washing machines. There is a dry sink, the kind of sink that's in every washing room for no discernible reason. One of the worst feelings in the world is to pull on a shoelace that breaks. That familiar resistance disappears in a snap and a person can blacken his own eye. Then there's the re-tie versus look for another goddamn lace debate. And shoelaces never break when there is ample time to weigh these options and take appropriate action. They always break when one is on the way to something. Otherwise, why would one be putting on one's shoes? Another one of the worst feelings is walking into the laundry room to find the machines full. It was this feeling that I experienced this afternoon. There, standing in my laundry room was a short, middle-aged man. He wore frayed khaki pants and a baggy flannel shirt. I looked at him and he said, "It's on rinse, I won't be long." Then he put a little detergent from a Dixie cup into the machine. I said I'd wait. He said, "Yeah, only about 20 minutes now," speaking with a slight German accent. "Germans are so precise," I thought. They know how long the rinse cycle is, they stand there and add detergent, just a pinch, during the rinse cycle. I said I'd come back. He volunteered to watch my clothes. Fifteen minutes later he was still there and we had progressed to spin. I thought that this guy must have been living here since time out of mind. He looked like my grandfather and my great uncle, though he was a smaller man than they had been. Even the liver spots on his balding head reminded me of them. And the khaki pants. He must do everything just so. There is a right way to do laundry and it was his way. Not by some coincidence, but by hard- sought, scientifically-observed experience. The spin cycle light went off a few seconds after the machine stopped. He moved his things out of the washer into the dryer in small handfuls. He looked a few last times into the machine to make sure -- here's a sock -- that he got everything. I started loading my whites into the machine. I turned my tie-dyed laundry bag upside down and let the stuff fall into the machine. I put in too much detergent. I always put in too much detergent. If I'm going to be haphazard about the care I give my clothes, I try to make up for it by their cleanliness by putting in too much soap. "How do you start this thing?" the German asked me, facing the dryer, pushing the coin holder in and out. "You've got to push the button, wait, uh, I see, the door's not closed." He closed the door and started pushing the flat red light that says that the machine is on. "No, press the button," I said, trying to get him to press it himself. It's about the only fun part of doing laundry. Pressing the buttons and pretending you're George Jetson. He saw the button I was pointing and let me press it. I did. It felt good. "I'm not mechanically inclined," he said. "Who is these days?" I replied. And I got to thinking, would a precise German man not know how to start the machine? A precise German man who had lived here for 40 years? He must have just moved in. For all I know, he might have been Austrian. --------------------------------------------------------------- DANGER AMONG US How safe are you? Each month, Consumer Reports runs a list of products that have been recalled because of potentially deadly defects. Some excerpts from recent issues: '94 Dodge Dakota pickup truck with four- wheel drive: Steering could fail on 1,500 trucks made in 11/93 '92-'94 Suzuki Intruder VS800 GL motorcycle: Handlebar could loosen and cause loss of control on 9,965 motorcycles made 9/91-10/93 '90 Buick Regal, Chevrolet Lumina, Oldsmobile Cutlass, Pontiac Grand Prix: Wheels could crack and come off on 160,000 cars made 1988- 1990 '94 Chrysler Le Baron, Dodge Spirit, Plymouth Acclaim: Safety belts could fail on 200 cars made 9/93-11/93 '92-'94 Gulf Stream Tourmaster motor home: Engine may not slow down when accelerator is released on 302 motor homes made 11/91-4/94 '93-'94 Geo Tracker and Suzuki Sidekick: Rear- axle could break, causing loss of control on 34,172 Trackers and 5,247 Sidekicks '92-'93 Chevrolet, Oldsmobile, and Pontiac minivans: Safety-belt retractor could lock up, making it impossible to withdraw belt on 157,740 vans made 6/91-6/93 '93-'94 Coachmen Santara motor home: TV set could fall out of overhead cabinet and injure driver on 1,286 motor homes made 4/92-6/94 '94 Lincoln Continental and Town Car: Brakes could fail on 2,500 cars made 6/94 '95 Eagle Talon and Mitsubishi Eclipse: Hydraulic unit for antilock brake system could break loose, disabling brakes on 2,205 cars made 2/94-7/94 '94 Buick Roadmaster, Cadillac Fleetwood, and Chevrolet Caprice: Fuel tank could sag and strike pavement on 8,000 cars made 3/93-6/94 '95 Saturn SL: Driver could completely lose steering control on 931 cars made 8/94 Gerber NUK orthodontic pacifier: Could come apart and choke child (10 million) 6-inch Barney dinosaur doll with red and white scarf and red Santa hat: Pom-pon could come off hat and choke child (594,000) Oxygen Krypton KR in-line roller skates made by Atomic Ski USA: Rear wheel could come off and make skater lose control and fall (18,000 skates sold 1/94-4/94) Scotsman home ice-cube machine: Could catch fire, 121,000 machines made before 9/91 Thunderbat toy baseball bat with noisemaker: When bat is swung, end cap and noisemaker could fly off and injure bystanders, 172,000 yellow hard-plastic bats made 12/92-9/93 Various whirlpool baths: Bather's hair could be drawn into high-pressure suction openings, creating drowning hazard in 40,000 whirlpool baths sold before 1985 --------------------------------------------- SEX WITH MY COMPUTER In Sleeper, Woody Allen plays a health food store manager who wakes 200 years in the future. Sex has been transformed into a trip inside a machine. Allen dubbed it the Orgasmatron. Step inside, close the sliding door and -- bam! -- you experience a near-death-experience orgasms, without commitment. The first step in the direction of Allen's vision is cybersex, a term that covers everything from online chat areas to digital erotica to interactive sex games. My friends told me that cybersex was not only electric, it eliminated face-to-face rejections. (In cyberspace, no one knows you're a dog.) I was skeptical, but when you're not getting any....hey, binary babes have their appeal. To get my feet wet, I dialed up a few adult bulletin boards. Bulletin boards have been under attack lately, so most ask if you're a cop or postal inspector as you sign on. I took the plunge with Odyssey, one of the country's larger boards with access numbers in 800 cities. Like most boards, Odyssey has chat areas, adult photos and dirty cartoons, a la Fred and Wilma as you've never seen them before. I decided to attempt an interactive game. After creating my character (a 27-year-old straight male, although I could have been any female or gay) and giving myself a moniker (BigChip), I began typing in commands such as "go west" or "look." In response, my computer displayed messages telling me where I was and who was nearby. Along the way, I picked up vibrators, silk scarves and handcuffs for use in battle. (I also winced at the game's typos; during one passionate moment I was informed I was "very exicted"). Most of the players were straight males. So when I stumbled upon a character named Kitty near the Porn-o-Rama, I jumped at the chance for an encounter. I typed "arouse Kitty" and threw my vibrator at her. She volleyed with her scarf. This would be an easy! I tossed my dirty magazine at her head. Submit, slave! That's when she played her trump -- a leather whip that brought me to my knees. I whimpered, surrendered my money and points, and was banished. I had accumulated zero points. The reigning champion, Sperminator, once scored 8594. Like other boards, Odyssey offers live chat, which resembles reading transcripts of CB radio transmissions. I didn't stay interested, in part because I was told repeatedly as I hopped from room to room, "There is currently no one else here with you." Even in cyberspace, I couldn't land a date. I downloaded a few photos. Among the libraries was one entitled "Nudeusers" that included grainy shots submitted by Odyssey users. One guy had sent in a snapshot of his wife in the shower. (Hope she saw him take it.) In another library, the archivist suggested that the raunchier photos could be used as screen savers. It was time to swim in the ocean. You've read about the Internet. It's a network linking universities, government offices, non-profits and businesses. The first place you'd look for hot talk, right? The Net includes anything sexual you can imagine, from hardcore photos to strip poker to a discussion in Spanish among leg men. I visited Usenet first. After scrolling past postings about angst, child support and something called "cuddle" ("I've had a bad week," one person wrote, "and could use a friendly cuddle"), I arrived with a thud at sex. Here we had endless discussions about small breasts, the value of old Playboys, the worst pick-up lines, Valerie Bertinelli's big toe, the calorie content of semen, dirty song lyrics, where to meet horny housewives, the effective use of your nose during oral sex and choosing the best penis elongater. Before soaking my eyes, I checked out a lonely sex group named "boredom." There were two messages. The first was a sales pitch for a $20 porn video starring a Steisand lookalike, and the other a plea from an exasperated University of Montana student. "Where is everybody?" he wrote. "I know I'm not the only person not getting any!" I switched off the computer and sat alone on my bed. I had a joystick -- why could it not bring me joy? I remembered the words of the on-line pioneer j@sin, who compiled a list of 10 things he refuses to do online. One is sex. "I want to feel the moisture and the sweat, I want to hear the squishes, I want to smell that funky odor," he wrote. "When the deed is done, I want it to be because I ran out of steam, not because the batteries are getting low." In other words, my computer may be able to do my taxes, but I don't want to see it naked. ------------------------------------------------------------------- -end of Issue 12-