It's time for a good old-fashioned scolding
ADVICE FROM GLADYS K. PREWDE
Sunday School Teacher to the Stars
I haven't seen your column in NuTH0uSE for a long while. I figured you had dropped out of sight, as I do
from time to time.
Robert Downey Jr.
You might say I had a brief respite similar to what you often enjoy, Bobby boy - except I spent my time
away at church camp getting a healthy dose of Christian values rather than holed up in some vial-shrewn
bathroom shooting up smack and fighting off imaginary lemurs.
Now that I'm out of the White House, I have more time for reading. Any
suggestions? Bill Clinton
Yes, I recommend Exodus, chapter 20. You're obviously unacquainted with the author. But, as an
incentive, I'll tip you of that the narrative includes such arousing phrases as "adultery" and "neighbor's
People say I'm the sexiest man alive!
Sail on, dreamboat. You'll find your pretty self in dry dock with all the other ex-poster boys soon enough.
Say hello to Fabian for me when you arrive.
I love the little children, all the little children of the world!
Yeah, especially those without restraining orders.
Why am I so misunderstood by the media?
Well, let's examine your public image. You're a tarted-up publicity queen who goes through husbands as
they were boxes of bon-bons, adores baubles and has enough addiction issues to fill a pre-med's next
five term papers. I'd say the media understand you quite well.
I now publish my own magazine! I'd love for you to subscribe or contribute.
How nice. Your cult has its own chain letter. What's the next course in your egofest? The Oprah Spa and
excerpted from NuTH0uSE Treatment 58 (Winter 2001)
excerpts from past treatments
"I PAINT WHAT I SEE, CHILD"
an interview with cartoonist Gahan Wilson
A fat lady with her dog stands in front of the Evanshire Drug Store, chatting with a gentleman who has
just purchased cigarettes and a newspaper. She glances down the block at the opening of an alley, from
which emerges a little boy heavily bundled in cap and coat. "Here comes that Wilson boy," she
comments, "all alone, as usual."
Although the little Wilson boy appears to be quite alone to her, around him are lurid creatures of his
imagination - a cloaked ghoul, a prehistoric bird, a tentacled monster. The images saunter along like
The fat lady, the drug store, the man with the cigarettes, the boy and his imaginary friends are all parts
of a Gahan Wilson cartoon - one of numerous drawings in his 1978 collection And Then We'll Get HIm.
What makes the picture so frighteningly funny is its element of truth ...
continued in NuTH0uSE Treatment 1 (Spring 1993)
The South's Greatest Writer
fiction by Dale Andrew White
When Hannah Rath died last week, the South lost its greatest - yet perhaps most unappreciated - writer.
Critics generally overlooked her. They can't be blamed. Rath was barely five feet tall and preferred
wearing garments that matched her wallpaper.
The public forgot her. It can't be blamed. Rath became a recluse in her hometown of Dire Straits,
Georgia. Occasionally she'd go downtown to applaud at funerals or to ask the mayor which hole in the
ground he mistook for his anus. Otherwise, she stayed home. If it weren't for the bruised shins on
certain pizza delivery boys, no one would have known the feisty author was alive and literally kicking.
Her own people despised her. They can't be blamed. Rath despised them.
A cub reporter once asked Rath if hatred and hurt inspired her. Rath confirmed his theory by leaping
over her typewriter and ramming a knee below his waist. "That's right, college boy," she snapped.
"Writing is pain!"
As the only child of the town drunkard, Hannah learned about small town antagonism early. Her father
led her to the town square every afternoon and paid the citizenry to ridicule her. Since the sloppy sot
had no known means of financial support, the townspeople didn't understand how he could afford such
extravagances. After he died, they discovered to their chagrin that he paid them in Confederate money.
As a schoolgirl, Hannah contributed stories to women's magazines. In "Repentance Can Wait," "The
Longest Hay Ride" and her other early tales, a steamy sensuality emerged that Rath refused to
consider a pandering to commercial interests. "I am a Realist," she wrote in her memoirs. "Where I come
from, it is not unusual for virgins to be debauched in pool halls. It is ritual."
Rath's neighbors resented her literary inferences that they were sexual deviants.
After all, as a young woman, Rath ...
continued in NuTH0uSE Treatment 13 (Summer 1994)
FLOPP FOR PRESIDENT
Ordinarily, NuTH0uSE regards itself as a nonpartisan institution. Because of the extreme political
content in this issue, however, our administration has decided to take this opportunity to editorialize. As
those of you being asked by our ward attendants to sign voter registration cards and pre-marked
absentee ballots may have guessed. NuTH0uSE is officially supporting a presidential candidate. The
NuTH0uSE political action committee, which is primarily financed by the makers of psychotropic drugs,
endorses Maynard Flopp. The nominee of the newly formed Regressive Party, Flopp certainly offers a
"change" from the stagnant, constitutionally impaired status quo. More importantly, he's promised to
make sure NuTH0uSE subscriptions are covered under his national health care plan. We're confident
that all Nutcases will be convinced by the following interview that Flopp is a compelling advocate for
America's growing lunatic fringe.
NuTH0uSE: Your media kit biography claims you were born in a log cabin. Is that true or just a public
Flopp: Actually I was born in a Quonset hut. My parents were volunteers sent to outer suburbia to teach
the missionary position and law irrigation techniques. At night, I taught myself to read using a stack of
pornographic magazines I found in a dumpster and the light from signal flares I swiped off the set of a
driver's education documentary. I'm a self-made man from a humble background. That junior college
diploma in applied illogic you see on my office wall and that 1978 Gremlin you see in my driveway didn't
come easily. The gun rack in the pantry, however, was a gift.
NuTH0uSE: You bill yourself as America's first anti-environment, pro-crime candidate.
Flopp: I'm flabbergasted by those namby-pamby politicians' baloney about reducing crime rates. Crime
is a multi-billion dollar industry. Think of all those potentially out-of-work police, judges, prosecutors,
prison guards, parole officers, security alarm specialists, DNA experts, Court TV reporters. In one night,
O.J. Simpson created more career and marketing opportunities in this country than all the federal
programs since LBJ. As far as the environment is concerned, I'm all for preserving it - the day trees pay
taxes! National forests are nothing more than government entitlement programs for bird-watching twerps
and trail mix junkies.
continued in NuTH0uSE Treatment 22 (Independence Day 1995)