Does Derek Love me?

Rebecca L. Reitnauer (age 19)

Yes, The Mooj believes that he just might. But just to be sure I will fast, meditate and abstain from drinking alcohol this morning for you (since I have to do it for that Mexican kid anyway).

Mooj, 

There was nothing I could do. It was pretty much settled by the time I got there. My kid brother Amos Garvin ran off and married Maureen Keller. My family had been feuding with the Kellers since 1875. My father found out about the wedding and sent me to stop it. But I arrived too late. But I did manage to shoot Maureen Keller as she and Amos came out of the Justice of the Peace’s house. Toby Jackson Keller must have also heard about the wedding because he arrived just as I was firing off my last round at Maureen Keller and he shot me in the leg. My cousin Angus Garvin then showed up and shot Toby. Pretty soon Kellers and Garvins were everywhere and a huge gun fight erupted. After about an hour of this feuding Grandma Garvin held up her hand and asked for a cease-fire. Jarvis Keller, the patriarch of the Keller klan, agreed. By then seven Kellers and nine Garvins was dead. A truce was then called and we decided to end the hostilities for the day. Since the reception hall was already booked and paid for on account of the wedding we decided to go there and have at the liquor and eat what was left of the buffet and wedding cake. All-in-all, we had a pretty dern good time.

Robert Alvin Gadson Garvin,
Pomeroy, Ohio

The Mooj is uncertain why this person found it necessary to share this absurd anecdote with me. The Mooj reminds his minions to please refer to The Mooj Weekly Standard bylaws, which strictly prohibit nonsensical and stupid submissions such as the one above. I will allow this letter to remain in this week’s newsletter since it is highly unlikely that this South Eastern Ohio hillbilly is familiar with The Mooj Weekly Standard bylaws. But he should consider himself warned!

McMooj,

I have a quick question for you Great and Wondrous Swami. Last week my wife and I were back in LA after a six-year absence and heard a guy on the radio called "Mr. KABC." He sounded just like this guy that used to on the radio called "Mr. KFI." Was "Mr. KABC" and "Mr. KFI" the same person? Also, my wife thinks that this "Mr. KABC" fellow used to also be known as "Joe Crummy." Is she right? Anyway, I’m a huge fan of yours and I shaved off all my body hair to prove it.

David Allen Kole,
Newberg, OR

Thank you for what seems like a legitimate query and tribute Mr. Kole. Sadly, however, I cannot help you because I have no idea whom this "Mr. KFI" or "Mr. KABC" person is. My psychic senses tell me only that he is an idiot.

Mooj,

Hey, I saw you in Chicago’s legendary south-side last night. I’m glad to see you’re playing live blues again. It sounded like your chops were kinda rusty but that’s probably because you’ve been too busy to practice since you’re traveling around America looking for inner harmony and good vibes (not to mention hiding from that guy who’s trying to kill you). From what I understand you used to be quite a legend down in the Mississippi delta so I bet you’ll make it big up here in Chicago. Hell, you might just be the next Uzbekistani-Punjabi Muddy Waters! Best of luck!

Ronald Newburg,
Brookfield, IL

Thanks for your kind words. Yes, it is true that The humble and talented Mooj is once again performing live music in front of captive audiences. Over the last few weeks I’ve been appearing after hours in some of Chicago’s less-exclusive blues establishments (under an assumed name of course). For security reasons I cannot disclose locations of any future gigs but in truth I’m not really that hard to find. Just walk along 43rd Street any given night and you’ll probably hear me howling my blues somewhere (or at least see me lying drunk in a gutter someplace).

On July 15, 1969 I was wounded in a small village north of Da Nang. I was left for dead and would have been captured had it not been for a schoolgirl named [name omitted]. She dragged me into the hills and hid me inside a drainage ditch. Everyday she brought me food and water until I was strong enough to walk and make it back to my unit. I swore that someday I would find her and repay her for her kindness. Can you use your superior psychic powers to tell me where [name omitted] is today and how I can contact her? Thank you.

Peter King,
White Plains, NY

The Mooj will do everything he can to help you Mr. King. But, sadly, my psychic senses aren’t as sharp today as they usually are since I’ve been fasting and abstaining from alcohol all morning. Also, every time I try to meditate and use my third eye to see where this woman could be some idiot honks his horn and yells at me to get out of the street. I’ll try again tomorrow and then email you your answer in private.

Mooj,

I just wanted to write and congratulate you on yet another year of success. It is heartwarming to know that while all the other "dot coms" fall by the wayside that your Mooj.com is still strong and vibrant. Few web sites offer such insight and hope as yours does. I used to work for PSINET but now I’m laid off because they went bankrupt. I would be despondent except that I know you're always there to guide me through my rough times. You're like a beacon of light in these dark hours and I am grateful that you are my personal Internet Guru. Please email me back some encouragement as soon as you can because I really need you.

Jenna Houston,
Palo Alto, California, United States – Monday, April 16, 2001 at 20:14:27 (PST)

Hey, how come you didn’t answer my last email? All I got was your stupid auto reply telling me that you’ll get back to me as soon as you can. I need you now! Where are you?

Jenna Houston,
Palo Alto, California, United States – Monday, April 16, 2001 at 20:18:16 (PST)

I NEED YOU. WHERE ARE YOU????

Jenna Houston,
Palo Alto, California, United States – Monday, April 16, 2001 at 20:22:21 (PST)

HELP!!! I NEED YOU!!!!!

Jenna Houston,
Palo Alto, California, United States – Monday, April 16, 2001 at 20:24:34 (PST)

Fine you fat, greasy Punjabi pork chop. You can go [omitted] yourself with a fist-sized fig. I don’t need you anymore. You totally suck and I’ll never read your stupid little web site again. I hate you!!!!!

Jenna Houston,
Palo Alto, California, United States – Monday, April 16, 2001 at 20:25:55 (PST)

This troubled young woman obviously doesn’t understand the virtue of patience. I would have gladly gotten back to her as soon as I could with the words of wisdom and encouragement that she so desperately needed but now she is alone in the world without a hope or guidance. As far as I’m concerned it’s her fault not mine.

I really want to ask Stephanie Morgan to the junior prom. Will she say yes if I ask her? Also, do you think she likes me? And better yet, will I "get lucky" with her if she goes with me?

"Oliver Wendell Homey"

This request for free psychic advice starts out nicely. I can almost picture this shy 11th grader sitting there at his computer, popping zits, eating pizza and listening to O-Town while he pines for the girl of his dreams. But then this foolish lad goes and spoils it all by "driving the bus straight to smutville." Thus, young Oliver, because I care about you and your peers, as well as the morals of your fellow countrymen, I refuse to answer your letter. Perhaps next time you will keep it clean and maybe I’ll help you.

I love the Jules Vermilion sea adventure stories. I used to be a nuke on the USS Halibut (SSN 587). I knew a guy from the Enterprise. In fact, I performed many an "Emergency Blow" on this guy in the secret back room of the Horse and Cow bar in Vallejo, CA.

Bubble Head Bob
Charleston, SC

The Mooj thanks you for your letter Bubble Head Bob. For some reason I sense that it is a joke of some sort. Regardless, I’ll pass along your kind remarks to Jules Vermilion. (Actually, I don’t have to since Jules is probably reading this newsletter).

Mooj,

A few days ago I met this really hot woman. She works for a temp agency and I contracted her to be my new administrative assistant. We were working late last night and it soon became apparent that we had certain lustful feelings for each other. I’m not sure why but we kissed. Then before I knew it we were completely naked on the copy room floor doing it like mammals on Discovery Channel. I don’t know what came over us. I’m married and have two children. Up until last night I had never even thought about cheating on my wife. Honest! But that’s not why I’m writing to you. Here’s what I need to know. What stocks do you recommend this week?

Philip Krueger

I’m not sure why this odd person thought it appropriate to share his exaggerated inner-office romance story with me. He sounds like a very troubled individual that needs lots of help. As far as what stocks to buy this week The Mooj recommends staying with proven winners in the medical sector. If The Mooj still had money he would buy any of the following stocks: SERO, ADVP, HSIC, OCR, AZA or BMET.

Exactly three weeks ago I logged onto Mooj.com for the first time. I have returned numerous times to see if the newest newsletter has been posted and it hasn’t. All I see is the same old one that’s been there since March 22nd. I don’t get it. Your newsletter is called The Mooj WEEKLY Standard. So doesn’t that mean that there should be a new one each week? I checked through your archives and noticed that not since July 1999 have you actually published two newsletters within a week of each other. So why not call your newsletter The Mooj Semi-Weekly Standard or Mooj Monthly Standard? I hate to be so anal about something so trivial but you make a big deal about being honest and then you perpetrate this huge lie about your circulation schedule. Those are my thoughts. Take them or leave them.

-Unsigned

Thank you for your concerns. I’m glad I have people like you out there sweating the little things because I sure as hell don’t.  I'm not sure who you think I am, but I have never touted honesty as one of my virtues.

Will I get good enough grades this semester to get off academic probation?

"Pre-Med Fred"

My keen psychic senses tell me that you will yet again eke out another semester there in pre med school. But don’t go picking out alumni catalogue stuff just yet. I also sense that by this time next year you’ll be scrubbing toilets in the Coast Guard. But I could be wrong. Either way good luck!

Hey Mooj, I’m a budding artist and I’m hoping to make it big as a screenwriter. I have this great idea for a movie. Here’s my plot: This really hot-looking girl from Nebraska (or maybe even Kansas) decides that she wants to be a star and so she goes to Hollywood. She auditions for all kinds of roles but doesn’t get anything. Finally her stripper roommate talks her into becoming a stripper too so that she can pay her rent and eat. Then there’s lots of nudity and stripping and stuff. What do you think of my great idea? Will I make millions off it or what?

-Unsigned

It’s not that I don’t think you have any talent. It’s just that…well, your idea has been used about a million times already. If I were you I’d keep my day job.

Mooj,

Where can I get your books? My local library doesn’t seem to carry any, except The Mooj Guide to Punjabi Cooking and I’ve already read that one.

Lee Yeager (minion # 877) 
Manchester, NH

The Mooj is currently working with a publisher to reissue some of my older books. However, this publisher hasn’t returned any of my phone calls in four years so The Mooj isn’t sure when these books will actually be re-issued.

It's Time Again For .....

Behold! Then tragedy struck! The village movie house mysteriously caught fire one night and burned to the ground. Furthermore, to make the situation even more calamitous for the Chatterjee family, an eyewitness fingered Mahendra as the main culprit responsible for setting the fire. The village was outraged by this act of treachery and took out their ire by tipping over Mahendra’s rickshaw and then beating him with cricket bats. Mahendra was then dragged before the judge by the angry mob, where he was immediately put on trial and found guilty of the crime. Before his sentence was read Mahendra was allowed to address the angry courtroom and beg for forgiveness. With his head hung low and his heart full of sadness Mahendra told the judge (and his former friends) the following sad account:

"I’m not an egocentric mean-minded megalomaniac! Jaanata hoon ho chi aptu Atticus Fitch ding Anil Kumar hai? Thak gayee ho beat me like a Rodney King fugitive? Umr ke lambe safar se Mr. Damion Football Williams cha mal a Mughal-E-Azam putna gan gee Reginald Denny? Saanp se dasate shahar se Ray Lewis ap teekay cha billie chapati? Aas se aur aansuon se bheed ke gahare bhawanar! Wat firata hai suno itna daro na kiss my big fat Punjabi butt kuchh kaho Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge Hum Aapke Hain Kaun na!"

The Judge was not moved by Mahendra’s oration and showed him no mercy. Mahendra was next sentenced to 40 years of hard labor and then led off in irons while his wife and children were jeered and beaten by the angry mob.

But all was not lost for poor Mahendra. In the courthouse that day was a crafty and diligent reporter for The Hindustani Times. This reporter had dreams of becoming a prize-winning journalist but at present was relegated to minor work, such as keeping tabs on local court and criminal proceedings, which is what he was doing on that particular day. The reporter sensed a grave miscarriage of justice as he saw Mahendra being dragged off and so he decided to do a little investigation on his own. His instincts proved worthy! Yes, within the hour this reporter learned that Mahendra was not even in his village on the night of the fire. According reliable sources familiar with the story Mahendra was actually many kilometers away in the city of Lucknow attending a Chunky Pandey film festival. The reporter also learned that on the night in question a lightning storm had occurred in the village. Two stores on the same street as the movie house had also burned down and several eyewitnesses remembered seeing lightning strikes hit these structures before they erupted into flames. Finally, and most importantly, the reporter learned from a secret informant that the main witness against Mahendra was actually a rival rickshaw driver, who had at one time vowed to take revenge on Mahendra following a minor altercation concerning borrowed, yet unreturned money. The reporter was just about to publish his expose when ek dooje ke liye ham joop tundra panee sixteen-year-old girlfriend with marginal singing talent haath phir bhi dil hai Hindustani mahaja main har dil jo pyar karega kangan ke jaise main sawan ke oop ko arpan bhakt na baitho. Sadly, as a result of all this turmoil, the expose was never published.

(End of Part One.  I'll Include Part Two As Soon As I Find It.)