5-12-MWS

First Things First:

Greetings loyal and loving minions! Before we begin yet another fun-filled wholesome and enriching newsletter, I would like to introduce to you our newest intern. His name is Tømmerby Hammershøj and he is an immigrant from Skagen, Denmark.

Tømmerby claims on his intern application that he is a student at The University of Delaware, where he is completing his degree in Shakespearian Tragedies. He seems really smart so we're happy to have him! Welcome aboard Tømmerby!!!

This week's newsletter format has been modified somewhat thanks to inputs from this new Danish intern guy. Tømmerby has made some suggestions that we think may make The Mooj Weekly Standard a better newsletter. His best suggestion was to include a photograph that someone sent in of a Hooters waitress exposing herself to show us her "Mooj" tattoo. We'll do this by making a whole new feature called, "Minion Pride." Nice work Tømmerby! This feature can be found at the bottom of this week's newsletter. (No fair peeking now, we suggest you read through the newsletter first.) In addition to the Hooters girl picture we have also included more meaningful responses than usual to this week's minion mail requests by including Shakespearian verse whenever applicable. Again, this was Tømmerby's idea.

This newsletter also contains its usual selection of award winning poetry (including a gem from some Indian kid); Mooj adventure stories (yes, Mogender and I are still floating down the Mississippi River on our raft-like object); a great short story (about some guy's "hot date" at a drive-in movie theatre) and dozens of other goodies! You simply cannot find better reading stuff on the Internet!

The Mooj Mail Bag was full of its usual minion-type requests for wisdom, advice and psychic predictions. Instead of just answering the minion mail like I usually do my new intern suggested that I use the wit and wisdom of William Shakespeare to address my minion's many special problems and needs. That sounds like a grand idea! So this week we supplement the usual good advice The Mooj gives his minions with that of William Shakespeare. (Or whoever it was that wrote all that crap pretending to be Shakespeare.)

Dear Mooj,

My husband says the condoms I found in his luggage were to protect him when he runs in marathons. Can I believe him? I’m a Virgo, aged 25. He's 33 and is a Gemini with Leo rising signs. My husband is a high-powered attorney and does lots of traveling all up and down the east coast. As far as I know he isn’t athletic and I’ve never known him to run in a 5K, let alone a marathon. I found the condoms while I was unpacking his suitcase after his trip to New York. We don’t use condoms so I immediately became suspicious. He claimed he wore them during the NYC marathon to prevent chafing and discomfort. Surely a condom would fall off while he ran, wouldn’t you think? I still love him but I suspect that he may be fooling around. I don’t know what to do.

"A Concerned Wife In Langley, VA"

Perhaps your query is best answered using the immortal wisdom of William Shakespeare, whom often spoke to this issue (though not specifically lying about the use of condoms). Sonnet 56 seems appropriate here:

Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd,
To-morrow sharpened in his former might:
So, love, be thou, although to-day thou fill
Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of love, with a perpetual dulness.
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
Come daily to the banks, that when they see
Return of love, more blest may be the view;
As call it winter, which being full of care,
Makes summer's welcome, thrice more wished, more rare..

Dear Mooj,

I had a night of passion with my boss - and now I really, really regret it! I just started working at KFC. From day one I was totally hot for the assistant manager. He's really cute and has this wicked tattoo. He also drives this bitchen car (I think it's a Trans Am or Corvette or something). Last week he asked me out after work. We went to his friend’s house, who was having this kickin’ party. We sat on the couch and totally made out. For me it was the first time I ever kissed a boy. It made me feel so special. I thought he really liked me. But then the next day at work he took me to aside and told me it was all a big mistake because he is married. I now feel used and sick with hatred every time I look at him. He’s such a creep! What should I do?

Gilly, Age 16
Dover, DE

Yes, Shakespeare, again, seems appropriate here. Sonnet 96 is probably as good as any to address your specific problem, viz:

Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
Both grace and faults are lov'd of more and less:
Thou mak'st faults graces that to thee resort.
As on the finger of a throned queen
The basest jewel will be well esteem'd,
So are those errors that in thee are seen
To truths translated, and for true things deem'd.
How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,
If like a lamb he could his looks translate!
How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!
But do not so; I love thee in such sort,
As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report

Oh most knowledgeable one!

I have a question which has perplexed me for sometime. That is, "Does one sweat when one swims?" Please answer as honestly as your shallow conscious permits.

Marc Schlitz

Yes, a true ponderance! This letter is also best answered with Shakespearian wisdom (Sonnet 109 to be exact):

O! never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify,
As easy might I from my self depart
As from my soul which in thy breast doth lie:
That is my home of love: if I have ranged,
Like him that travels, I return again;
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my stain.
Never believe though in my nature reigned,
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be stained,
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;
For nothing this wide universe I call,
Save thou, my rose, in it thou art my all.

Moojer:

I need your sagely advice great salami, er I mean swami. I need to know whether I should go to Harvard or Orange Coast College. I got accepted to both. My father and mother both went to Harvard but Harvard sounds like total dullsville to me. I read in Playboy that Orange Coast College was voted the number one party school in the Nation. What should I do?

Alfred Owen Collins
Costa Mesa, CA

If I were you I would forget about college altogether. The Mooj never went to college and look how smart I am! But, none-the-less, Shakespeare, again, would be appropriate here. Sonnet 77 to be exact:

Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look what thy memory cannot contain,
Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain,
To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.

Will Peter ever ask me to marry him?

-Unsigned

Your query can best be answered by Sonnet 12:

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silvered o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

Dear Mooj,

I woke up this morning with a strange sensation. I think aliens abducted me while I was asleep last night. At first I thought I was dreaming but then I noticed my rectum was bleeding and that I had several indentation marks on my head (like I had been experimented on or something). Any clue as to what happened to me?

Jerriani Meridia
Jacksonville, FL

I have no idea. (Nor do I even want to venture a guess.) But Shakespeare knows all and tells all, thus the answer to your problem is found hidden within Sonnet 29:

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Mooj:

Most of your minion mail seems so negative these days. Here’s one that I hope you’ll find positive. I really, really, really like you and your Mooj Weekly Standard newsletter. It’s so interesting and full of fun stuff. Your detractors are just troublemakers, looking to find meaning in your simple stories, lessons and poems—they should know better! You only have an 8^th grade education for Pete’s sake!

Peace,

"Tara"
Spokane, WA

Thank you for your kind words and for you Sonnet 28:

How can I then return in happy plight,
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eas'd by night,
But day by night and night by day oppress'd,
And each, though enemies to either's reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day, to please him thou art bright,
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night,
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even.
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger.

Dearest Mooj,

Two of your most recent minions are old acquaintances of mine ("Steve" and "Ed," nos. 1291 and 1292, respectively). Believe it or not I was with Ed the day he got busted at the Tanforan Mall. I couldn’t help but notice that Ed conveniently left out the best part of the story in his minion application abstract (so I’ll add it). The three of us (Steve, Ed and I) were playing hooky that day and hanging out in JC Penny when Steve dared Ed to grope one of the mannequins. Unfortunately for Ed it wasn’t a mannequin that he groped but some lady that was standing really still. The three of us nearly crapped ourselves when the lady started screaming. We ran as fast as we could but some boy scout grabbed us and held us until the store security guard came. Poor Ed got charged with sexual assault and Steve and I were held as material witnesses. The three of us were banned for life from the Tanforan Mall but they never enforced it as far as I can remember because we still hung out there all the time. Hell, I even worked at the Panda Express Chinese Gourmet in the food court during my senior year. Ed and Steve also worked there but they got fired. (I can’t remember why they got fired but it was drug related.) After we graduated from high school I went away to college and Ed and Steve basically stayed in San Bruno and continued to be zits on the ass of society. I haven’t seen either of those losers since high school and really have no desire to do so now. My mom goes to the same church as Ed’s mom and from what I understand he’s pretty much still a moron. I know its not very nice to bad mouth people behind their backs but these two guys are totally useless and I feel you need to really think twice about making them official minions.

Dr. Benito Moses
Hillsdale, CA

Okay, so what do you suggest? Throw them out? I think not. The Mooj is all-loving and all-inclusive. Diversity is what makes my minion program work. I’m sure Ed and Steve will be fine upstanding minions and I am proud that they are part of my ever-expanding empire of collective consciousness seekers. Perhaps you need a lesson from Shakespeare about jealousy (see Sonnet 38):

As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;
For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts, do crowned sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store:
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despis'd,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
That I in thy abundance am suffic'd,
And by a part of all thy glory live.
Look what is best, that best I wish in thee:
This wish I have; then ten times happy me!

Dear Mooj,

I met this wonderful guy in my step aerobics class last night. He’s sooooooo cute. After class he told me that he thought I looked really hot in my sports bra and black and white leotards. I returned the compliment by telling him that he looked just like Fabio. (He’s totally hot!!!!) I think he really likes me. Should I let him know I’m available? And if so, what would be the best way to do that?

Candy Lemon
Bel Air, MD

Fabio huh? Sounds like you found a winner there! Rather than waste time assessing your plight I suggest you follow the advice given by Shakespeare in Sonnet 105:

Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my beloved as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument,
Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone,
Which three till now, never kept seat in one.

Isn’t that just peachy! The Mooj and Mogender—two complete morons floating leisurely down the Mississippi River on a raft just like Huckleberry Finn and Jim. Well I got news for you chumps: the Mississippi River ain’t like it used to be back in the days of Mark Twain. You just can’t "sail" down the river anymore because there’s locks and dams on it now. Good luck fools!

-Unsigned

To be honest that would explain some things. Mainly, why about every 30 miles or so we encounter "white water rapids" before and after a very steep plunge. But that doesn't matter, or at least it didn't to Shakespeare as he heralded inner wisdom in Sonnet 150:

O! from what power hast thou this powerful might,
With insufficiency my heart to sway?
To make me give the lie to my true sight,
And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
O! though I love what others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
More worthy I to be beloved of thee.

Sir,

I cannot put into words how terrible my life has been. Year after year I have suffered abysmal failure in both my professional and personal life. But that wasn’t always the case. In my younger days I was a super star! An All American! The Big Man on Campus! I had the best car, best girl, best clothes, best hair — best everything! Then all of a sudden my life changed forever and bad luck seemed to follow me wherever I went. And now I know why!!!!! It’s that guy Jim Ruddy! You see, unfortunately, I was one of the jocks that took part in that phony Indian raid at his house back in the year 1955.

Here’s my pathetic life in a nutshell: After I graduated from Stanford (I went there on a football scholarship) I got a job in broadcasting. Life was sweet! I was on my way to the top and then a mysterious stranger showed up and bought the radio station where I worked. The first thing this mysterious person did was fire me. I quickly got hired on at the rival station but then a year later that same mysterious guy showed up and bought that station too. I got another radio gig down in Southern California and that same guy came down there and bought that station too! I had no idea who this mysterious person was or why he was trying to ruin my career; pretty soon I was all washed up as a broadcaster and began selling cars. I kid you not! As soon as I was firmly established as a salesman that mysterious person bought the dealership where I worked and fired me again! I traveled all over America trying to find work. No matter what job I got this evil person would buy my company and then fire me. I even changed my name and cross-dressed for a while but that mysterious person always got me. And that evil person wasn’t content with just wrecking my professional life—he had to destroy my personal life too! Since college I have been married six times. Every single one of my wives dumped me for that mysterious stranger! Lo and behold, as soon as I got remarried that bastard would dump my ex-wife and move on to my new wife! I even tried to kill myself a number of times but some "do-gooder" (that was probably hired by that mysterious stranger to follow me) always showed up and saved me! My life has been a living hell for 41 years now!!!!!

Up until last week I had no idea who this mysterious stranger was because he always wore disguises and never used his real name. Then last week I saw the letter in your newsletter from Benny Pyle. Benny was a teammate of mine back in high school and was also involved in that raid on Jim Ruddy’s house. I knew most of the other guys on the team had died in bizarre accidents but I never put two and two together. Since Benny and I were the guys that actually shaved Jim’s head he must have saved the worst for us! That’s why he let us live—so that he could torment us forever! Please Jim—if you’re reading this email—I beg you, please let me live what is left of my pathetic life in peace! Benny was the one that actually shaved your head all I did was hold your head down in the toilet while he did it! Have mercy on me! I beg you!

"Skid Row Jake"
Oakland, CA.

I have no idea what this letter is about but will include it in the newsletter anyway since it ties in so well with that whole ironic "coincidence" thing that this newsletter is so famous for. For your sorrows "Skid Row Jake" I prescribe Sonnet 44:

If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth remov'd from thee;
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,
As soon as think the place where he would be.
But, ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that so much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time's leisure with my moan;
Receiving nought by elements so slow
But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.

Dear Sir,

I found your Buray Bengali feature story in last week’s newsletter to be absolutely wonderful! Bravo! Truly inspiring! I can’t help but notice that every once in a while a true literary gem will actually show up in your newsletter. Keep up the good work!

Chanduhar Pashat
Tiruppur, India

Thank you for your kind words. It is for you and my other humble Hindustani brothers that I actually write those Buray Bengali teaching stories. And it was for us, the first civilized people in the world, that Shakespeare perhaps penned Sonnet 125:

Were't aught to me I bore the canopy,
With my extern the outward honouring,
Or laid great bases for eternity,
Which proves more short than waste or ruining?
Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour
Lose all and more by paying too much rent
For compound sweet, forgoing simple savour,
Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent?
No; let me be obsequious in thy heart,
And take thou my oblation, poor but free,
Which is not mixed with seconds, knows no art,
But mutual render, only me for thee.
Hence, thou suborned informer! a true soul
When most impeached stands least in thy control.

I attended a self-realization clinic last weekend and the guy teaching it was magnificent. His name was Ohm Bajaneesh and I thought he was brilliant, insightful, inspiring, and worthy of exaltation. It was more than obvious to me after meeting my new guru that I have wasted valuable time following you. I know for a fact that Ohm Bajaneesh would never let his nephew attack people while dressed as a giant ape and then float down the Mississippi River on a raft to escape justice. (I know because I asked him and he said so!) Ohm Bajaneesh is the best! I bet you don’t have the guts to print this letter!

-Unsigned

You’re wrong! I do have the guts to publish your letter. And for your rudeness I suggest Sonnet 7:

Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract, and look another way:
So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon
Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.

I saw your ad in the back of the Mater Dei High School 20^th reunion booklet. I feel real sorry for you whoever you are. If you’re trying to be funny you’re not.

-Unsigned

Thank you for your kind words. And your kind words deserve Sonnet 53:

What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring, and foison of the year,
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear;
And you in every blessed shape we know.
In all external grace you have some part,
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

Greetings Maha Mooj:

Just a quick note to say hello and thank you for your wonderful teachings. I read your newsletters all the time. I used to think that there was nothing worthwhile on the Internet until I found mooj.com. I feel enlightenment is now just a "click" away. Since I am such an ardent fan would you consider gracing me with an autographed picture of yourself? I’ll hang it proudly in my bathroom.

Ryan Cain
Jefferson City, AR

Thank you for your kind words and The Mooj will grant you your wish (click here). In addition I refer you to Sonnet 89:

Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
And I will comment upon that offence:
Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,
Against thy reasons making no defence.
Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill,
To set a form upon desired change,
As I'll myself disgrace; knowing thy will,
I will acquaintance strangle, and look strange;
Be absent from thy walks; and in my tongue
Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong,
And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
For thee, against my self I'll vow debate,
For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate.

Dear Mooj,

Please accept this contribution to your cause in exchange for a Mooj T-shirt in extra large. I have enclosed a check for $19.00 ($15.00 plus $4.00 shipping and handling) as detailed on your website.

Women here in Ohio really dig the "enlightened guy" type. So I figure this shirt will serve me well. Beats having to actually "be" enlightened. I don’t have that kind of time. And I hate tofu.

Keep it real,
Scott
Cincinnati, OH

The Mooj gladly accepts your accolades and money. An official Mooj T-Shirt is on its way. And, best of all, you are indeed worthy of Sonnet 126:

O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle, hour;
Who hast by waning grown, and therein showest
Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self growest.
If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,
As thou goest onwards still will pluck thee back,
She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.
Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure!
She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:
Her audit (though delayed) answered must be,
And her quietus is to render thee.

Mr. Mooj,

I met this really cool guy in my morning body pump class at the gym yesterday. He looks and sounds just like Fabio! After class he told me that he thought I looked really sexy doing my squats. Should I pursue this guy? He seems really nice.

Cindy Rawl
Bel Air, MD

Yes, Shakespeare is warranted here as well. This situation calls for Sonnet 135:

Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will,
And Will to boot, and Will in over-plus;
More than enough am I that vexed thee still,
To thy sweet will making addition thus.
Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
Shall will in others seem right gracious,
And in my will no fair acceptance shine?
The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
And in abundance addeth to his store;
So thou, being rich in Will, add to thy Will
One will of mine, to make thy large will more.
Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill;
Think all but one, and me in that one Will.

Hey Punjab Pete,

I think I know why people aren’t buying your minion T-shirts anymore. It’s because you’re wearing a turban and have a beard. You sort of look like a Taliban.

-Unsigned

Whatever. Now for you Sonnet 19:

Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-liv'd phoenix, in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st,
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O! carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.

McMooj:

I just met my dream stud!!!! Woof! He’s this new guy at my health club. He took the afternoon precision cycle class with me yesterday. He’s totally gorgeous! He looks and talks just like Fabio!!!! He was totally checking me out during the class and afterwards he told me that he really liked the way my gluteus muscles expand and contract while doing stationary jumps. Normally I avoid men from the club because they’re egotistical and shallow but this guy seems really, really nice. What is your opinion—should I go for it?

Sandy Crown
Bel Air, MD

Shakespeare is warranted here as well. For you, Sonnet 68:

Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,
When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
Before the golden tresses of the dead,
The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,
To live a second life on second head;
Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay:
In him those holy antique hours are seen,
Without all ornament, itself and true,
Making no summer of another's green,
Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;
And him as for a map doth Nature store,
To show false Art what beauty was of yore.

This week a poem drifted in from afar—India to be exact. It was written by a student at the Modern School in New Delhi. The poem was written in Hindi (with some Rajastani thrown in) but that should be of little concern to you non Hindi speakers since the poem doesn't really make sense anyway. English subtitles were added by my new intern; however, I cannot vouch for their accuracy since they're wrong in most cases.

Warning—This poem contains material that is considered to be in very poor taste, even by this newsletter's low standards!

Shalazaar!

by Sunil Shiti, Age 15

Ap tu panda cha kahn hay
(She’s my woman and I’m proud to say)

Dho pan jahn nom panee tay
(She’s the finest gal in of all Bombay)

Haji man baht mir loo jee mutt
(She’s got a solid rack and a killer butt)

Mhan gee lar gar nen dar dhut
(She’s even got more money than ol’ King Tut)

Taji pan umba tag dil dold
(There's one problem, though, that must be told)

Ghann ree lar tan baht lum fold!
(She's rather elderly—damn, she's 90 years old!)

The following story was sent in by minion 835. It seems like a very nice tale and is certainly worthy of inclusion in this great newsletter. My hope is that others will follow minion 835's example and write something decent like this for a change.

My Hot Date With Suzy

by Minion 835

The other day I was channel surfing and came upon that Brady Bunch episode where Bobby wins that stupid bet with Greg about who can do the most pull ups and so Greg has to do whatever Bobby tells him to do for a whole week. In the show Greg winds up having to take Bobby on one of his dates and they go to a drive-in movie. As I was watching this Brady Bunch episode I had this major flashback. It was about my "hot date" with Suzy Stephens at the Hi-Way 39 Drive-in during the summer of 1961. We went to see The Parent Trap with my buddy Stan and his girl Karen (it was a double date).

Suzy was actually a friend of Karen’s and Stan and Karen set the whole thing up. I was really shy back then so Stan was trying to teach me how to act cool with girls. It wasn’t really a blind date because I knew Suzy from school but I was still a nervous wreck.

After we parked Stan and I went to the snack bar and Stan told me to just do what he did. I was sweating bullets! When we got back to the car I sat in the back next to Suzy and Stan sat up front with Karen. As soon as the movie started Stan put his arm around Karen and I did the same with Suzy.

Then next thing I knew Stan and Karen were totally making out. I noticed Suzy take gum out of her mouth and so I knew she wanted to make out too but I was so nervous that I just sat there like an idiot. Pretty soon the car was all fogged up and so we couldn’t watch the movie anymore.

Finally Suzy said loud enough for everyone to hear that she was bored. Stan then poked his head up over the front seat and yelled: "Kiss her you lame-o!" So I did. And the rest is history!

Suzy and I got married in 1962. We are now grandparents if you can believe it. I have no idea if the Hi-Way 39 Drive-in even exists anymore but if it does I think I’ll take Suzy there for our 40^th anniversary next year. Maybe I’ll get lucky!

New Minions! Hey, what can I say, a few more minions wandered in this week. Below is a small summary of these fine, upstanding people that have chosen to make Moojism part of their life. If you would like to become an official minion yourself, click here. If you would rather just buy a Mooj minion T-Shirt and pretend you're a minion, that's fine too (In fact I'd prefer it that way); just click here.

Meet Minion 1298: Roger Anderson

Something Noteworthy About Roger: Roger claims to be a 45-year-old alchemist from Dunkirk, GA. He has a wife and three children. He also admits to crying during the movie Rudy.

This Person's Minion Application Essay (Abstract): This is a great site and I always feel so enriched after reading your award winning newsletter. Someday, though, I hope to actually find a nugget of wisdom in there somewhere. But I don't care. You're still my hero and I want to be just like you.

Meet Minion 1299: Tomas Green

Something Noteworthy About Tomas: Tomas is a 24-year-old physics major at the University of Oregon. He says that his first car was a Chevy Monza.

This Person's Minion Application Essay (Abstract): Gross level problems like insomnia and narcolepsy were quickly resolved after I started reading your newsletter. Today all my problems are insignificant and I have become balanced emotionally and psychologically. I now enjoy the present moment rather than racing to the future or dwelling on the past. Every day provides examples of situations, which in the past would have either troubled, annoyed, or stymied me (like unemployment, unwanted pregnancies, arrests, etc.). Now I have the capacity to handle it all in an appropriate way by not really giving a crap about anything anymore. I feel extremely fortunate to have you as a vital part of my life. I think now I’ll light up another doobie and sit around and play Nintendo instead of going to class. I have a test today but who cares? I don’t.

Meet Minion 1300: Theda Ready

Something Noteworthy About Theda: Theda once ate dinner with Red Sox legend Cecil Cooper. It was at a Burger King in Queens, NY. She asked him for an autograph and he told her to go [omitted] herself. She's pretty sure it was Cecil Cooper because he was black and wearing a Red Sox cap. [Note: Our new intern Tømmerby is trying to contact the Red Sox organization to collaborate this story. We suspect that Theda may be mistaken about the person in Burger King being Cecil Cooper. Or at least we hope so, anyway.]

This Person's Minion Application Essay (Abstract): Felt very good to read your newsletter and I actually felt a cool vibration in my head, hands, and sometimes in back areas also. I never felt so good!

Meet Minion 1301: Anonymous

Something Noteworthy About This Anonymous Person: He or she once attended a high school football game where someone intercepted a pass and then ran the wrong way. The idiot got tackled in the wrong end zone by his own teammates. This person claims that had he (or she) had a video camera and captured this stunning event on video, they would have won $10,000 on America's Funniest Home Movies.

This Person's Minion Application Essay (Abstract): I have no intention of joining anything. I'm just curious if this thing actually goes anywhere after I click the send button. If you do get this please ignore it.

Meet Minion 1302: Faith Parsons

Something Noteworthy About Faith: Faith is 17 years old and lives in Cortland, NY. She attends Homer High School and plans to marry her boyfriend Jimmy once he gets out of jail. She claims that Jimmy is innocent and that he was set up by the vast right wing conspiracy. [Note: we had our new intern Tømmerby check into this matter and found that "Jimmy" was actually busted for felonious theft. As far as Mooj.com is concerned he was rightly convicted and wasn't set up by any right wing conspiracy.]

This Person's Minion Application Essay (Abstract): I can't think of anything to say.

Life on The Mississippi

-continued from last week-

By the time I returned to where I had hidden Mogender and the floating dock it was late (probably well after 9:00 p.m.). Mogender quickly jumped from a tree and I quickly fed and clothed him. (The poor boy was practically starved and half-frozen by then.) After Mogender had eaten I told him that we had no time to waste and we quickly pulled the floating dock from its hiding place and shoved it back into the river. Within minutes we were safely aboard and moving southward with the leisurely river current. Boat traffic was heavy near the city of Louisiana, Missouri but we slipped by undetected thanks to our dark Asian complexions and the fact that most of the floating dock was under water due to all the wakes and waves caused by river traffic. Once we cleared the city limits we were pretty much left to our own lonesome selves again and continued moving southward with the current.

Near midnight we passed a small town on the Missouri side of the river and overheard two watchmen sitting on a levee. They were nearly two hundred yards away but their voices carried so well over the water that it sounded like they were sitting right next to us. Besides talking about baseball, hockey, women, recreational drug use, college football, basketball, beer and other stupid things, we heard one of the men mention the man-monkey ordeal up in Hannibal. Our ears perked up a bit as we listened for details. A cold chill ran down our spines when we heard one of the men say that the reward for our capture had been substantially increased and that many local yokels and bounty hunters were now scouting the woods and river towns for us. I whispered to Mogender that under these circumstances that we had to be even more vigilant with our escape, if that was even possible.

Soon the river thinned considerably and we drifted between and around islands and sandbars. Before long the sky began turning gray and I knew that we needed to find another place to stop and hide before the emerging dawn revealed our location on the river. Without much effort we ran aground on an island near the town of Hamburg, Illinois. We figured this was as good a place as any to stop and so we did. We then slept in blissful serenity as the hot summer sun baked our bodies to a dark and crispy smoothness.

The next few nights found us traveling in a similar fashion, averaging about ten to twenty miles a day. During these tranquil nights we drifted past what I could only describe as dimly-lit hick towns that lined both sides of the river. Mogender and I became comfortable with the monotony of the river travel and soon came to love our life as genuine Mississippi River raftsmen (although we weren’t technically on a raft). In many ways I felt like a character in one of William Faulkner’s operettas or a Stephen Foster poem. Mogender wasn’t exactly versed in American literature so he compared us to the likes of DeSoto and LaSalle, two famous explorers that he claims also rafted down the Mississippi. (I think he may be mistaken about that but I don’t really care one way or the other.)

After about five days of idle drifting the river turned gently northward and we began to sense that we were getting close to civilization again. Scows, tugs, barges, fake steamboats, oil tankers and sailboats were now crowding the river and we became concerned for our safety. Not only was our capture a big problem but also our survival—for by then we were continuously dodging oncoming river traffic.

And then behold: tragedy struck! Out of nowhere came this loud blast from an air horn and we were blinded by an intense beam of light. Before we knew it our floating dock was struck broadside by an oncoming garbage barge and Mogender and I were forced to dive into the river to save our lives. When I surfaced I witnessed absolute destruction! The floating dock had been completely destroyed and garbage was strewn everywhere. But worst of all was that my poor nephew Mogender was nowhere to be seen.

-continued next week-

What exactly is Minion Pride? Every week The Mooj Weekly Standard receives dozens of pictures of proud and otherwise elated minions showing their Mooj minion pride. Normally we just throw these pictures out. Our new intern here at Mooj.com made the suggestion that we pick a few of the most deserving photos and actually post them in the newsletter. Not a bad idea for an intern! So if you have minion pride and are willing to show it off (without using nudity or other vulgar acts of imagery) then do so (and send a picture of it in). This week's winners are Missy Gellerman (minion #922) and The Abingdon Fire Department. (Missy is the one on the right and the fire truck ambulance is the one on the left.) Enjoy:

Well, that's about all I can stomach this week. Hope to see you all again next week. Remember, send in your "Mooj Pride" photos and T-Shirt orders!

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