Issue 36 of my hugely influential humor zine/vanity project is finally available online.

Click on a page and scroll through. Designed, written, and produced by me.

Come over to my place if you feel like messing around with some balloons. I got some ones already blown up, and bags and bags of empties.

Got a tank of helium, too, if you want to make them float. Tank’s nearly empty though, so hurry over.

There’s a lot of different shapes and colors we can get crazy with. I don’t know how to make balloon animals but I’d love if someone taught me a monkey or a dog. My house is just down the road. What else are you doing?

No, you can’t smoke in here. You have to go out on the porch, unless you want to blow the smoke into a balloon and fill it up with smoke. Just don’t pop any balloons with your cigar.

I’m not some creep who’s trying to tempt you over to my house with balloons and trap you in my house. That’s not who I am anymore. It’s the same house though.

If you’re close it wouldn’t hurt to drop in, no? You’ll be able to tell it’s my house because you’ll see all the balloons pressed up against the windows.

Right now I have a really big balloon blown up to the maximum. I’m pinching it shut with one hand and I can’t tie it off by myself!!! I could really use some help here!!! Please come fast!!!

Hey, don’t worry about that spill. I have a lot of these little cups that I fill up with water and leave in strategic locations around my house. That way, wherever I am there’s always a drink of water nearby, and I can stay hydrated. I knock them over all the time.

Yes, I’m the most hydrated person on Earth. I’m famous for it. See this old photo? One time, as a publicity stunt, I had lunch with the dryest person on Earth. My publicist invited the press and I was in a bunch of magazines. That was in the 70’s. The dryest person on earth is long since dead. Meanwhile I’m practically immortal.

What did the dryest person on Earth order for lunch? Well, he ordered a bowl of sand. I was surprised when the waitress actually brought him a bowl of sand, and even more surprised when she carted over my order of ten watermelons.

“If he’s having a bowl of sand, I’ll have ten watermelons, please,” I said. I was joking, but it actually happened. It was a weird restaurant.

Here’s a photo of me underwater. I don’t float. I can’t, I sink a little bit and just hang there, because I’m so hydrated. I wear arm floaties at the beach—hence the tanlines. Are you ok with me being shirtless? I soak right through most clothes.

Excuse me. Ahhh. That’s better. I was feeling a little parched.

Anyways, you wanted to borrow a cooler? Here, take this one. Open her up…oh, God! I haven’t opened this cooler in years! My old pet cat Mister Wetness must have got trapped in here somehow. Ugh… that’s… really gross. He’s very well preserved. And there’s almost no smell. Mummified in an Igloo-brand cooler—what a way to go.

Well, here, this cooler doesn’t have a dead pet in it. Give it back whenever.