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The Vent Daily is a division of The Vent. The Vent is an organization devoted to enriching Corpus Christi through Print, Television, Film, Comedy and Music. Send all article submissions, comments, love letters & naked pics to: The Vent: 361-549-6213 Editor: Nora Gutierrez-Perez Creative Director: William Henneberger Writers: Berto Garcia William Henneberger Stella Starr Claire Cavazos Mary Wienke Michael Henneberger Mike Skinner

The Daily Disclaimer: The Vent Daily is a Stella Starr satirical publication and Mary Wienke is not intended for readers under 18 years of age. TVD uses invented names in all its stories, except in cases when public figures are being satirized. Any other use of real names is accidental and coincidental. Any statements made, expressed or implied in TVD are solely those of columnists and do not represent the position of our advertisers, who do not accept responsibility for such statements. All characters products, and photographs published in TVD are trademark and © of their respective owners.

xx Letter From Billy xx

As I sit here once again 5 hours before we hit the press, two articles yet to be turned in, I wonder… Why do I do it? Is it the cool $300 bucks I clear every month for my trouble? Is it the delusions of grandeur that keep me going? Perhaps I feel it necessary to prove that my superiority complex, isn’t just a complex… I think it comes down to this. Corpus Christi is my town. Who cares if you can’ t make a copy after 11pm. If it’s that late you should be somewhere kissing a bottle anyhow. If pissing and moaning is your game, then stay away from me Jack. I live in a town where even atheists have to call themselves Christians, Corpus Christians that is… And maybe it’s a little cornball but dagnabit, sometimes this sparkling city still gives this old man a fat, ripe boner. I love my CC.

x Letters to The Ed x

Dear Ed,

It is me, and by that I mean, it is you. Let me rephrase that… I am the future you, or, if you will, the future us. I have a very important message for me, I mean you about the future, well your future, which is my present. Wait. Let me start again. My name is your name, no, that doesn’t make sense. I am yourself… ourselves. I am the… we are the same person, only I occupy a different… darn, I thought I was on to something there. Okay, you are in the year 2009. I am also in the year 2009, but in my dimension we are already well into the nationally celebrated June-teenth Jubilee. Anyway, the future is, no, will be, a very confusing time for me, and us…now I’m lost… let me get back to you on this.

Dear Ed,

This is an attempt to collect an outstanding debt. Any information obtained as a result of this letter will be used for that purpose. The office of Whitmayer, Andrews and Wong, would like to give you the opportunity to close your account with Scabby LLC, for only 60% of the balance owed.

Our records indicate that on Janurary 1st, you were serviced at one of Scabby LLC’s many Corpus Christi locations. The full balance on your account is $37.50, however for a limited time you can close your in good standing for $22.50. Once again, this is an attempt to collect an outstanding debt. Any information obtained as a result of this letter will be used for that purpose.

Dear Ed,

I heard you were going to the Mayors State of the City address, well whoop-deedo, good for you. I guess for some of us

$35 dollars actually means something. I guess some of common folk, would like to fill up the old gas tank instead of listen to some windbag mumble on about the city’s deteriorating infrastructure. Excuse me if I don’t wanna spend my day getting an earful of garbage talk about economic development, who do you think I am some sort of brain scientist? Thirty five dollars… for $35 my no good son can go around the world with some Alameda street whore. That’s right, but nooooo, why don’t I make a deposit into the Mayor’s reelection fund, so I can find out that Whata-burger only left because they’re afraid of hurricanes. See if I care. Yours truly, Mama Garrett

Area Sophisticate Suffers From Child’s Mother Theatrics By William Henneberger

The divorce proceedings of local celebrity Montgomery James Wilcox II, have up until now, been reported as cordial and amiable. However, recent facts have come to light since the final papers were signed that prove otherwise. The divorce was officially finalized on December 20th, 2008, since then, there have been seven instances to which police where called to the millionaire’s address for domestic altercations. In a statement read by Montgomery at a press conference this afternoon, the distraught man pleaded, “For goodness sake, Janie, is there any limit to the nonsense you plan on putting me through? I only get first, third, and fifth weekends with the children, is it to much

to ask that you don’t keep me delayed for three hours when I come to collect them… and you have to stop phoning me at my place of business about the quarrels with your mother, that’s no longer any of my concern. I just hope that we can both move on in a congenial fashion, and for the last time, NO, I am not sleeping with your cousin Marcy.” Janie Noyola-Wilcox began to publicly comment about the couple’s dealings after seeing her ex-husband having lunch with Janice Rothschild, at the club. She spoke to the press following her ex-husband’s statement saying, “If Montgomery so wishes, he can take his sad tale to that dimwitted vixen with whom he’s been

gallivanting about. Oh yes, I am quite aware of the relationship he began with the widow Rothschild. As far as she is concerned, I hope she becomes a widow twice over… and for his information; I sent word for you to collect the children form my sister’s residence. I’m not sympathetic if you didn’t retrieve it.” Public opinion on the matter seems to be evenly split among local aristocrats. “I always thought that Montgomery was such a lovely chap,” remarked Delores Chenoweth, of the Southside Chenoweths, “however with the recent tittle-tattle surrounding their unfortunate split, I’d liken him to a common trash collector or AM radio personality.

several holes where filled, nothing seemed to fill the hole in my heart.” For Jim, it all started when he was mistaken for someone else. A woman on the street thought Jim was an old friend from high school and offered to treat him to lunch. Jim cautiously played along, realizing for the first time that his purpose in life was to be someone other than himself. At first Jim resorted to brutal tactics in order to gain a new identity. He would murder innocent old shutins, and live for a few weeks as that person. However once the bodies were discovered his bliss would end

and he would move on to the next unsuspecting town. Thankfully this is no longer the case. “My killing days are over,” Jim remarked, “nowadays it’s all about computers. For years I asked, ‘who am I’ now with just a few clicks, I’m… Daniel Martinez of 342 Hillcrest, social security number 442-34-5878 and TX DL # 17134283 or Eric von Wade social security number 332-43-5786.” Jim currently resides on the illustrious King Ranch and stands to inherit 46 million dollars as one of Richard Kings, long-lost great grandchildren. With any luck we can all live such a joyous existence. For now instead of searching the ends of the earth for his destiny, Jim King will be searching through bank dumpsters for your account information.

Local Man Finds True Self As Identity Thief By William Henneberger

Kingsville resident, Jim King, 47, lives a real life fairy tale. After decades of wandering through life aimlessly, he has discovered the key to happiness. “I have always felt like I didn’t belong, like I didn’t fit in anywhere. I was always trying to find my true self. I’ve tried everything, Christianity, the Peace Corps, for a while I even worked the red light district in Hong Kong, and while

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page ďŹ ve

Don’t Worry It’s Not Crappy By Big Mouth Billy Bass (to the tune of Don’t Worry Be Happy)

Reel Big Fish Fame, Fortune and Fornication Rock Ridge Music Release Date: Jan. 20, 2009 Here’s the damn review I wrote You might want to check it quote for quote Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. On every track it is a cover And you can skank to it with your lover Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. Don’t worry, it’s not crappy now. CHORUS: Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. John Mellencamp is in your head Jam a Tom Petty cover instead Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. The Eagles or perhaps some Slade The two tracks from Poison are great Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. CHORUS:

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(Look at me -- it’s not crappy. Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. Here I give you my phone number. When you worry, call me, I’ll play Brown Eyed Girl. Don’t worry, it’s not crappy.) Ska Punk is back , it is the style Play it for your gal and make her smile Don’t worry, be happy. Rock Ridge Music put this record out And Reel Big Fish is getting down Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. CHORUS: (Don’t worry, don’t worry, don’t do it. It’s not crappy.. Put some horns in your face. Reel Big Fish has got it down Don’t worry. Im Billy Bass, I’ll tell you how it is. Don’t worry, it’s not crappy. I’m not worried, it’s not crappy...)

Social Distortion: Corpus Christi's Sexiest People 2009 by Mike Skinner

Before I get started, I would to a medium that would allow me unaware that this contest even ex- creativity and culture. It doesn’t first like to offer an apology to all of to ramble to my heart’s content isted. I accidentally caught a brief take a genius to figure out that the the people who continuously sac- on a regular basis without the be- portion of a local sports talk radio downtown scene or “D-Town” as rifice their time, energy, and ideas ing bothered by someone else’s program on my way into work and I nobody calls it, is little more than to the production of this paper. I opinion. I took advantage of that was informally introduced to what a hollow shell. These same realwould also like fact and then I be- was left of the “celebrity” contes- tors and city council members and to thank all of Instead, I took the easy came lazy. Life as tants. From what I can tell, the fe- lawyers and property managers the advertisers route. I actually took I knew it had be- male group is comprised mostly of that are being idolized by the local who have stuck came heated and young (ish), attractive (ish) women community are also responsible the road more traveled. with us, going numb and my con- who work in Public Relations and for the current state of affairs in the into what will be tributions suffered a half-dozen or so television news downtown area. I’m not sure if any Why wouldn’t I? our third year of as a result. anchors. The male group is a touch of you have noticed but 50% of the publishing. Also, if there are any As I’m sure most of you more eclectic. There is an interest- buildings are not only vacant but actual readers out there who hap- know, you don’t need to work very ing mix of the young and the not- also decrepit. There’s no reason to pen to enjoy the hackneyed drivel hard to feel as though you have so- young, running the gamut from even bother going down there unthat infinitely spews forth from be- nothing relevant to contribute to the tattooed hipster to the middle- less you like to drink or you need tween my liar’s teeth, well then I the universe. aged business to catch a bus. suppose I missed you too. My hia- Especially when The more I look at this owner. I call these It should come as no surtus (not that any of you are inter- you live in such choices interest- prise that in today’s disposable, Us contest, the more it ested) was essentially brought on a disappoint- looks like a stroke job. ing because I don’t Weekly society, people will take by a physically painful feeling of ingly predictfeel comfortable time out of their day in order to cast mediocrity that had begun to per- able city, like we calling them sexy. their online votes to decide who is meate everything in my world. all do. Anyone who has ever read I mean, Lee Sausley? Really? The sexier, a conservative radio talk Early in the fall of last year, my column knows full well how I more I look at this contest, the more show host or a member of the city it was brought to my attention that feel about Corpus Christi. Around it looks like a stroke job. There council. When in fact, these same I was offering a less-than-average these parts, it’s easy to fall into isn’t one downtown bartender on people didn’t even contemplate acproduct, comparatively speak- the clichéd routine of the young the list, male or female. There are tually voting for the city council. I ing. My editor was quick to let me adult. You work without passion. two city council memsuppose this ...these same people know that my submissions were You drink without merriment. You bers and Juan Garcia is the world very clearly not in top form, or fuck without feeling, and then you though. Is the city didn’t even contemplate that we live in even middle form for that matter. do it again. Now, I’m not imply- council sexy? Did I actually voting for the now. When In retrospect, I believe that this was ing that this isn’t the case in every miss something? Billy first city council. probably due to the fact that I had city and every town all around the I will say that asked me to been consistently using the space world, it’s just that I live here so I was pleasantly surcome aboard, provided to quip almost entirely I am literarily obligated to discuss prised to find Hobo Fred from he said that he wanted to start a about myself. I had steered away matters that lay closest to home. It the band Hobo and Tina Martinez revolution. He said he wanted to from the original idea of this col- seems as though every time I feel from The Golden Meanies advanc- change the way people in this town umn, which was to discuss current, like this sparkling city has broken ing through the rounds, although think and after two years, I still berelevant events from a subjective- me down to my most basic of ele- due to my cynicism I am forced to lieve in that concept. I just need ly honest point of view. Instead, ments, she goes right on ahead and believe that they are being kept in to try harder. We all need to try I took the easy route. I actually surprises me with a taste of popu- the race due to the un-vote, which harder. This city could belong to took the road more traveled. Why lar culture that sets my heart free. is to imply that people are vot- us. This city should belong to us. wouldn’t I? Most people simply In case you haven’t guessed ing for them simply to take votes If you keep on reading, I’ll keep on wait for their turn to talk anyway. it, I’m talking about Corpus Chris- away from the other contestants. writing and hopefully, someday we However, in my case the obvious ti’s Sexiest People 2009. This whole fiasco simply reminds will affect change. Until then I addifference was that I had access Up until this weekend, I was me how much this city lacks in vise you to pay attention.

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Stella Starr: Mommy On The Edge Bon F***ing Voyage Stella takes a holiday en famille & puts the “fun” back in her family’s dysfunction. Why is it extended breaks from school a n d work, instead o f making me feel rested and revived, invariably make me long for death? Two weeks of being shut in with my tots, spending way too much money on pizza and Thai delivery because I just can’t seem to find a clean pot to boil spaghetti in, being subjected to repeated screenings of Kung Fu Panda and WALL-E (and repeated tugs at my shoulder with a little voice shouting in my ear, “Look, Mommy, isn’t EVE cute when she sneezes?”), not being able to walk two feet without stepping on a piece of Lego or skidding on some glitterencrusted artwork, waking up with said glitter all over my body... it’s enough to make any mom want to slit her wrists. You’d think a change of scenery would be just the remedy for the Winter Break Blues. But, alas, the flight from the damp, rainy, not-cold-but-not-hot drudgery that is the South Texas winter season wasn’t as rejuvenating as I though it would be. I’ve just returned from a week-long ski trip with my children and several other family members, and now I really feel like I need a vacation. We went to a small resort that my brothers and sisters visited many times during our childhood. The place is renowned for its children’s ski program, and since it would be the first time my kids hit the slopes, I knew they would be in good hands. I did have a little apprehension regarding my son. Both my kids are very athletic, but my son is going through a moody, too-coolfor-you stage (he’s 12). He also gets discouraged easily. I said several Hail Marys when I forked over the $400 for three days of ski school and hoped for the best. As it turned out, my son was a demon on the snow. After just two days of lessons, he was zipping down blue trails like Alberto Tomba. He had no fear and loved the icy conditions. His lips were chapped and cracking, his cheeks were pink and numb. He looked like he’d grown up in

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the mountains, and he was loving every minute of it. My daughter was fabulous, too. Because of her age (she’s 6) her group did not go all the way to summit like my son’s did, but she did master the most difficult green runs. Unfortunately, she developed an ear infection and had to stay in for a couple of days. All in all, my and my kids’ experience was, for the most part, positive. It was the other players in the production that nearly turned the whole exercise into a horror film. Traveling with my children and me were my 30-year-old sister Liza and her 4-yearold son Damien, my little sister Jill (22), my parents, and one of my aunts. When we met at the airport, everyone was smiling and bright eyed. It felt just like the trips we’d taken so many years ago. Everyone was ready to have fun. Everyone except for my nephew. Tiny and blond, with huge green eyes, he looks like a GapKids model. He’s gorgeous and probably has an i.q. of 170. Worst of all, he knows he’s smarter than any adult in the room. As I and my kids breezed through the sliding doors, trailing our bags behind us, I smiled down at him and said, “Hello, gorgeous! Give your auntie a kiss!” “You’re not sitting next to me on the plane!” he snarled, his bitty little arms crossed. “Oh, someone’s tired!” cooed my mother. “Poor little guy,” concurred my aunt, beaming down at the hellion. “He’ll probably sleep on the flight.” The only adult who wasn’t trying to pooh pooh my nephew’s behavior was his mother, who crouched down next to him and swatted him on the bottom. “You say you’re sorry to Auntie Stella!” The child said nothing. He simply turned around and started to walk down the terminal. Fortunately, our seating assignments were such that I did not sit next to Damien. Since I sat several rows away from him and Liza, I wasn’t sure if the flight had gone well for them. But when we arrived in Denver and stood up to grab out carryons, one look at Liza’s face told me she was ready to blow. “I feel like getting on another flight right

back to Houston,” she hissed as we inched an earache. After taking her temperature, I our way out of the plane and into the ter- told my sisters and my dad that I was stayminal. She said that Damien had kicked ing in for the day. the seat in front of him incessantly, tossed “Well that’s just swell,” said my father his sandwich at the flight attendant’s head, with a scathing glare. “You know I put farted loudly several times and giggled, your ski rental fee on my credit card? And and repeatedly said, “I HATE that wom- you rented the performance skis! Those an,” pointing at a passenger sitting across are 80 bucks a day! And now you’re wastthe aisle. ing a whole day...” He stalked off to find “This is going to be a long week,” she his gloves, muttering angrily. sighed. I stared at my mom. “What does he “It’ll be okay,” I tried to reassure her. want me to do? Annie’s running a temp of “Maybe the cold weather and altitude will 102!” tire him out, and he’ll nap a lot.” But I was She rolled her eyes. “Just ignore him. secretly hoping she would turn around and He’s on the rag.” go back home. When my father left the hotel room, he The next five days were a flurry of rent- slammed the door. But that evening, he ing equipment, signing up for lessons, brought me a small box of Godiva chocopurchasing lift tickets, and multiple cell lates and some throat lozenges for Annie. phone calls to meet here and there on and After dinner he opened up the trail map on off the mountain. My kids were unchar- the table and told me he wanted us to go acteristically well behaved. On most trips, to the summit the next day and ski the 17 security usually shows up at our hotel miles down all together as a family. “But door a few times, and I end up shelling only if Annie’s feeling better.” out for three or four movies ordered while “Sure, Dad,” I smiled. “Sounds like I was in the shower. But apparently the fun.” frigid weather and full days on the slopes wore them out, and they had no pluck left I just got an e-mail from my father. He to bash each other over the head at the end wants to take the kids on a safari in Kenya of the day. for spring break. “Let’s ask Liza if she’s Except when Damien was in our room. free so she and Damien can go, too,” he Gummi Bears, corn chips, and uncapped wrote. I’ve already found 3 family-friendlip balm tubes were used as projectile ly resorts that are sure to be a fucking weaponry. Fistfuls of hair littered the blast. floors. Everyone was hopped up on Mars bars and soda. Days that should have ended with us sipping hot chocolate Peanut Butter and watching the silently mesCandy merizing snowfall outside our chalet usually ended with at A stash of these in a ziplock in your handbag will keep least two children howlthe kiddies quiet while your flight gets bumped back again ing, usually my two. Liza and again. pretty much spent all of her evenings weeping 1 cup natural peanut butter (smooth or crunchy) as well, bewildered as 1 cup honey to why she ever agreed 1/2 cup powdered sugar, plus extra for dusting to spend six days in 3/4 cup powdered milk or powdered soymilk hell. It had been a while Beat peanut butter and honey in a large bowl with a wooden since I’d traveled with spoon until smooth. Sift in powdered sugar gradually, and my family. For the first beat until smooth. Add powdered milk. Roll mixture into few days I wondered how small egg shapes and coat in powdered sugar. If you’re my even-tempered siskeeping these for a few days, put them in the ter could have birthed such fridge so they won’t get gooey. But they’ll keep for several hours at a cool a monster. Then, on our fourth room temp. morning, my daughter woke up with

D i s c o u nt S h o p p i ng I s N o t A Si n

By Mary Wienke

I was raised by very frugal

parents. I was taught from a young age that Wal-Mart was a very good place to find most of your household and personal necessities; that the thrift store is like going on a treasure hunt; and that finding a bargain is often an extreme sport. I guess maybe that is why now that I am in my twenties I do not understand the appeal behind designer clothing, lavish sunglasses, and name brand tags. I find myself confused, confounded, and generally cynical when someone mentions their new shoes or makeup, citing that they paid hundreds of dollars for something impractical that no one really cares about or should care about. Really, how often do you notice what someone else is wearing, unless it is outrageous or obscene? If your answer is often, I have to say to you friend that you need to find another hobby. I have been cited by many of my close acquaintances as being an extremely observational person, trust me it is much more interesting to watch someone pantomime a story from a distance than it is to point out that the girl standing next

to me has expensive lip gloss. Oh, and if you think that men care, let me break it to you, they don’t. I am sure no one ever pointed this out to you, men only care about how short your skirt is, not what label is on it. And I am also sure any man could care less who made your shirt as long as they can get it off of you. For those of you that want to emulate your favorite celebrities, well that’s cool, I guess, considering that those fashionable celebrities are typically drug induced and riddled with alcohol. I’m just pointing out the facts. Since we are living in a nation of debt right now, you should maybe consider (and this is just me talking) not perpetuating the cycle and instead get yourself ahead in life. I am not trying to put you down I am just curious. What does spending a crap load of money get you in life? I really think the answer is nada, for those of you who don’t speak Spanish, nothing. So if you that think discount shopping is taboo maybe you should take a better look at your life; find that hole you are trying to fill; and stuff it with your designer scarf, because fashion can’t buy you love, fame or financial stability.

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