5-2-MWS

Each week troubled and otherwise misguided minions elicit sage-full advice from The All-Knowing and All-Loving Mooj. Say what you will about The Mooj (e.g., that I'm a bum, crook, fraud, tax cheat or whatever), but the one thing you cannot say is that The Mooj doesn't care about his readers. Yes, no matter how stupid or inane a letter may be it is treated with the respect and dignity it deserves. The Mooj asks only that you at least try to make your request for sagely, secular, or psychic advice somewhat coherent and meaningful.

I've met the nicest and most understanding guy in the world on the Internet but my friends think he might be a crook. I am 35 and he is 22. His name is Juan and he lives in Mexico City. He is a medical student and is really, really smart. He has helped me with loads of personal problems and I feel like he really cares about me. He says he wants to marry me as soon as he gets out of medical school. Last night he asked me to send him $45,000 so that he could buy an X-Ray machine to help the poor. Should I?

The Mooj thinks that if you're willing to fork over $45,000 to some nut then it might as well be me! What kind of devotee are you anyway? The Mooj is ashamed of you.

Oh My Gawd Mooj! The artist who designed the box for Land O' Lakes is a genius!!! Not only did he include that Mad magazinesque back cover fold in feature but for the less sophisticated he included a caption under the young squaw's breasts. By using the "TT" from the word "Butter" he perfectly described what the viewer was looking at.

The great poet-philosopher Ho Chi Tolliver once wrote, "Love is like a glove, you try it on a few times to make sure it fits, knowing very well that others may have done the same." The Mooj has no idea what that means, or if it even applies in your case, but you're obviously going to do what you want and so I don't see the need to include me in your sordid little business. The Mooj will chant, meditate and pray for you such that you do what is best for yourself, your fiancée, your co-workers and all humanity.

Hey....., wait a minute. Aren't these the two jokers that ripped me off last year? For their Eagle Scout project they helped administer to the poor in spirit by keeping Mooj.com up and running while I was otherwise on the lam. These fellows looted the Mooj archives and sold off all my prized possessions. I forgot to write to their scoutmaster and complain about their treachery. Oh well.

Hey Mooj guess what? I’m now the lucky owner of one of your rare pre-Mooj.com newsletters! I bought it at a garage sale in Culver City for only a buck! I read somewhere that your first edition newsletters can fetch up to $1,000 a pop. Is that true? I couldn’t believe my good fortune but there it was—a rare, mint, Volume 1, Number 16 newsletter. I asked the lady selling it if she had anymore and she said she didn’t. Her son had sent it to her from Chester County Jail a number of years ago. She had no idea who you were or that you were so holy and enlightened. Since I have a big heart I am now willing to part with this rare one-of-a-kind treasure if any of my fellow minions want to buy it from me. Make me an offer! I’m also willing to sell Xerox copies of this insightful newsletter for only $20 each. I only deal in cash so don’t send me any checks or money orders. My name is Teddy Garcia and my address is 1538 Westgate Ave, Apartment 8, West Los Angeles, CA 90025. Just because I am giving out my address it shouldn’t be construed as an open invitation for minion brothers or sisters (or you for that matter) to come and visit me. I will not answer my door under any circumstances.

I had too much to drink on New Year's Eve and now I don't know if I am still a virgin. The last thing I remember was that I was at a place called La Nouvelle Justine in New York City and was partying with a bunch of guys dressed like nuns. The next day I had severe back and neck pain but other than that I was okay.

The Mooj suggests that in the future if you wish to remain holistic and harmonious in the eyes of God that you remain sober—and stay away from S&M clubs!

I’ll never forget the day my life changed forever. It was Thursday, July 14, 1977. I had just finished my lunch and was running back to work because I was late (as usual). Back in those days I worked at the hardware store on Washington Street in Norwood, MA. It was located next to the bank (it's where the Perk’s Coffee House is now).

When I reached the bank I stopped running to catch my breath. It was at that moment I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life! She was walking up the street wearing a red tube top and white Ditto pants. She was wicked, man, wicked!

I thought as hard as I could for something cool to say when she passed but I couldn’t think of anything. Just as I was about to say something lame she turned and walked into the bank. I was relieved that I had been afforded a few moments to better prepare myself. I quickly wiped the sweat from my face with the long sleeve of my Foghat concert T-shirt and then pulled my big banana comb from my back pocket and ran it through my long feathered hair. I wasn’t one of those dudes that could easily pick up on chicks but this girl was a total fox and I just had to meet her.

A few minutes later she came out of the bank and walked right past me. I froze and didn’t say a word. Dude, it was like I was totally freaked out or something. She crossed the street and went into the Liggetts drug store. I looked at my watch and saw that I was now really late for work and I knew that my boss was really going to let me have it. But I didn’t care—I was on a mission of love. As soon as I could I ran across the street and went into Liggetts.

By then the girl was sitting at the lunch counter sipping on a Raspberry Lime Ricky. I tried not to look too dubious as I walked to the far end of the lunch counter and sat down. I had already eaten my lunch but ordered a BLT anyway (it was all I could think of when the waitress asked me what I wanted). I lit a cigarette and tried to act really cool. If the girl noticed me gawking at her she didn’t let on and pretty much just ignored me.

Finally my sandwich arrived and I took a few bites out of it since I was going to have to pay for it anyway. Then before I knew it the girl stood up and walked to the register. I nearly choked myself on my BLT as I wolfed it down. By the time I got my check and paid it the girl of my dreams was gone. I booted outside and looked all up and down Washington Street but she was gone, man, gone.

From Liggett’s I walked all the way up Washington Street looking into every store. I checked the leather shop, Cheerio, Petite Paree, the Electrical Institution, Marcoa Jewelers, the shoe shop, Cummings, Woolworths, Kordette's, Ronan Clothes, CVS, Bernard Art Supply, Brennan's, Pot Pourii, Sherwood's, Brenda’s Antiques, Bond Shoes, Bananas Hair Salon and the Music Center. I then crossed Cottage Street and checked Reagan's Shoes, Gertrude’s Bakery, Beneficial Loans, Shepards, the Singer Sewing Machine Shop, Regina’s Gift Shop, Papa Nico’s, the Norwood News and Book Store, Garner Pharmacy, Hanlon’s Shoes, Murray’s Outlet, Thomas T. Foley Insurance, the Peek a Boutique, the Daily Transcript office, Montgomery, Frost and Lloyd's and the Country Camera Shop. Dude, she was gone!

Needless to say I also got fired that day because I never returned to work. I never saw that girl again but I still think about her every day. Mooj, please, if you can tell me who she was and where I can find her? I can’t live without her anymore!

The great poet Shelley once wrote, "Bequeath, like sunset to the skies, The splendour of its prime." That, my friend, is applicable today as it was back in the days of yore. Sadly, your true love (the girl in the red tube top and white Ditto pants) is long gone. My psychic senses tell me that she is now married with two children and living far away in Chandler, AZ. It is a shame that you frittered away your life as you have. Perhaps now would be a good time to get another job and get a life.

Hey, remember that boy genius pal of yours the once lofty and majestic Trent Handjoy? (You may recall that his dad went bankrupt last year thanks to you and that whole treasure in the Azores fiasco.) Well—get this—Trent is now a semi-finalist on the new ABC hit TV show, Making the Band II. Insiders tell me that he’s got a pretty good shot at making the final cut in Lou "gimme a big hug" Pearlman’s latest boy band wonder quintet called The New O-Town Boyz. I guess Trent can really dance and sing. Maybe the poor kid will finally catch a break in life—not.

As usual it's great to hear from my anonymous buddy at The Washington Post. I was beginning to worry about that guy since I hadn't heard from him in a while. I'm glad to hear that my old pal Trent Handjoy is doing better and might actually have a shot at making it big in pop music. I worry about that kid since I am no longer his guiding light and spiritual mentor. I'm also happy to hear that J. Edgar Gayson has been pardoned and can now get on with his life. Even though he ripped me off I forgive him now and hope he has great success ministering to the poor in spirit. And yes, finally, I do admit that I have been letting my guard down a bit lately. I really should be more careful since Bigsby is technically still on the loose and still has me on his "revenge" list. To be honest over the last few weeks I have felt that Bigsby really isn't that interested in me anymore. There have been numerous occasions when we have crossed paths while zig-zagging across New York, Western Pennsylvania and Ohio. Heck, we've even eaten dinner together a few times at the YMCA. Regardless, The Mooj knows better and will continue to avoid Bigsby as much as possible.

Hinduja Seth,
P.O. Shivanandanagar – 255 122,
Distt. Tehri-Garhwal, U.P., INDIA

The Insane Korean Grad Student

This week's minion Real Life Story comes to us from "B. T.," a loyal minion from So. CA. The Mooj isn't quite sure what to think of it so I will just add it below without saying anything more about it.

Back when I was a grad student at UCLA I was assigned a desk in a remote storeroom. Normally grad students were assigned cubicles in the main department building but no cubes were available when I arrived and so I was put on a waiting list. Located in this same storage room were the desks of other misfit grad students, whom like me were either awaiting a cubicle or were deemed unworthy of being near others. One of my fellow cohabitants of this dark and dingy room was a Korean student. He spoke very little English and was a very hard worker. Normally this guy was quiet and didn't bother me. Sometimes, though, about once or twice a week, he would sit and stare at me with a deranged look on his face and mumble incoherently in a mixture of both English and Korean. I had no idea what this guy was babbling about so I just ignored him. Later that quarter another graduate student was assigned to the temporary study room and he, too, was a Korean fellow. One day he came up to me and asked me what I knew about the other Korean guy. I told him that he was kind of weird but that he didn't really seem to bother anyone. I then asked him if anything was wrong. He told me that since he spoke Korean that he was alarmed to hear what this other guy was mumbling to himself all the time. Since I had been curious as to what the guy had been saying I asked him about it. The new guy said: "He say that he have voices in his head that are telling him to kill people." Of course I was alarmed to hear that and was very careful not to let him sneak up on me when I was studying. I'm not sure what happened to that guy; as far as I know he never killed anyone.

More Mooj Poetry You Ask? Sure, why not. After all, Mooj poetry is one of the main reasons people (minion or other) read The Mooj Weekly Standard. This particular poem was inspired by the new Fox TV show Temptation Island. It should be noted that this poem is written in a combination of Urdu, Hindi and Bengali; sadly, it loses something in the translation.

Koi Vaada Nha Kare, Que Kabhi Khaaye Nahaj Kasaan
(She’s a Punjabi woman but she looks like a Punjabi man)

Jab Kahe Bas Yeh Kahe, Milke Bichadenge Naa Haan
(She eats figs in the morning, often as many as she can)

Pyar Ki, Preet Ki, Yuh Hi Barsaat Rahe Koi Deevar Na Jaan
(At noon she leaves her household to search about the land)

Beech Hum Dono Ke Tera Mera Saath Rahe Baat Raan
(For the truth of inner wisdom and a public toilet stand)

A Disclaimer: The Mooj Group (a.k.a the "The Friends of Mooj") website contains or may contain forward-thinking and/or self-realization advice. The words "may," "will," "anticipate," "believe," "estimate," "expect," "future," "intend," "plan," "could," "should," "potential," or "continue" or the negative or other variations thereof, as well as other statements that relate to matters of the soul, spirit or abstract plane of embodied collective consciousness, that may or may not constitute lifestyle choices that reflect common sense and/or the laws of natural phenomena, are often used to clarify advice given by The Mooj. Such "forward-thinking advice" is usually given by The Mooj free of charge to those asking for it and this advice is not necessarily based on anything holistic, rather than the fact that The Mooj is a self-proclaimed Swami, who was granted unconditional omnipotence by Mother Nature via a 50-kV lightning strike. Minions, non minions and notable others, who elicit such advice should be cognizant of the fact that The Mooj is a wandering fugitive, with limited education and means, and possesses a propensity to affect people's lives in adverse ways. Should The Mooj’s advice prove to be flawed, or should actual reality, results, events and circumstances surrounding your predicament vary significantly from those reflected in your desired outcome, or should you lose lots of money, friends or be banished from your respective families, The Mooj is exempt from liability and, thus, cannot be held accountable. For more information please feel free to contact the Mooj at editor@mooj.com