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Squid #13
(published Late in the Year, 2000)
Ask The Giant Squid: A Cavalcade of Quick Questions
Who is Poor Mojo's Giant Squid?
Many small questions have been languishing in my IN BOX. At first, before I had complimented my conquistador for the simplistic transcription of your grunt-language, I believed these questions to be larval, and awaited their growth to adolescence, if not adulthood, when I might sate their wisdom-hunger. I have since grown to appreciate that your utterences are so dismally limited as to cease development once they have left the confines of your gaping, jabbering food-holes. This is very pitiable. Recieve your knowledge below, and leave me be.

Why is Dave so Queer?

Suze Berkowitz,
Hite, UT

Once again, the equivocation of your monkey-speech serves only to confuse your question. The Webster's Third Collegiate Dictionary which my technician, Tom, has pressed against the glass indicates that "queer" can mean either "1) The state of being strange, eccentric or deviant." or "2) Homosexual (perjorative)"

In the case that your question depends from definition-the-first, then the answer is readily availible to anyone with equipment to capture magnetic-resonance images or perform a simple stool ananlysis: Brain parasites.

If it is the second definition which you intended to pound into the keyboard with your clever paws, then the answer is he is not at all "queer"— evidenced by the verve and manly ardor with which he mounts and rides your swaybacked nag of a mother.

Ha. That is a joke, Berkowitz — note my comically orange mantle and the spasticated jitter of my hunting tentacles. Joke, lemur-thing. Dave is as gay as the salt-water crocodile, largely because his brain is small, senses dull and form disgusting to all proper creatures. The honey bee has a saying "Let the drone-males do whatever they select— come WaterLock they will freeze in the horrible Out, and then we may feast upon their sloth-swollen thoraxes."

Kill Me Now.
Gladly, land-trash. Please send me your full surface-address via electonic post, and I will immediatly dispatch the tiny crabs and carnivorous tube-worms. The terrible rending of their claws and mandibles and suctioning faces will be such a symphony of despair upon your dry, pink epidermal-membrane, that it shall cause your screams to become a kind of song. Rejoice in the carnival or your own bloody death!

Mr. Squid,

I know you probably don't follow the American national elections very closely, but as this is my first time voting I am unsure as to who is the best cantidate for President, I don't feel that I am well enough informed to make the right decision. Are you even an American citizen? If not, I offer you my vote, to be cast in favour of whatever cantidate you choose. Please help me to decide.

Evan Dicken


I am ceaselessly fascinated by the depth to which you monkeys do not understand your electoral system. The Immigration and Naturalization Service recognizes me as a resident alien and thus I am compelled to step aside and not participate in your leader-selection. But imagine this, I have as many rights as a chimp-thing citizen who has transgressed the laws of your federal government. HA HA HA HA. You beasts delight me with your own short-sighted policies! As your federal government extends its loosely defined and poorly considered jurisdiction into the festering corners of each of your paltry lives, you shall eventually, one after the other, transgress a federal law of some sort— and already you have put in place a system which would then strip you of your constitutional right to vote! The denticles of suctioning-tentacle-tips vibrate with mirth! Look now upon your melonin enhanced population segment: They even now suffer under the consequences of this flawed ideology. Singled out for trumped up crimes, they are paraded before federal judge after federal judge and stripped of their right to vote! Millions upon millions of them. It is clearly no accident that they're somber skin, in a chromatic-speaker, would denote extreme and spirit-crimping sorrow.

It is only a matter of time before each of you falls prey to the madness of this system... a system which you yourselves have devised and supported in the face of your own constitution. The Rat-Thing has Built His Own Trap! HA. If I wanted to I could extend my vast resources and build a huge army of lobbyists, and then, after only a paltry hundred years or so, when most of you had been stripped of your right to vote for violating the federal statute against yellow socks on Thursday... then I would be your God and Master!


I am patient. The time shall come. Tremble now, beast-men.

But, if you seek to change that course, listen further to my admonitions. As I indicated last week to Beepers, I'd cast my vote in favor of Na-Der— his basset hound features epitomize the human's loser-nature among the creatures of Earth. But, despite his obvious failings as an attractor of many mates to establish his genetic dominance, his protocol-thoughts have the potential to save your miniscule and backward civilization. Heed the warning now, as it comes from one as wise as I. You will not receive a second opportunity.

Unless, of course, I am lying to you. Ha.

I only say this because I know that you are too stupid to listen. Please, continue your population's trend toward obesity and apathy— the squid army is ravenous, and even now lurking in the shallows of every bay.


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see other pieces by this author | Who is Poor Mojo's Giant Squid? Read his blog posts and enjoy his anthem (and the post-ironic mid-1990s Japanese cover of same)

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