Hey Wiglar Fans, how ya'll doin'? Great! Ummmmm, first let me just say, -real quick here, that I did not win the $11,000,000 Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes that I said I won in the last issue's Idiotorial. Apparently, in my drunken excitement, I forgot to affix the necessary postage on the reply envelope and well, shit happens, it just happens to me -more often. Lucky for me, however, the devoted readers of this magazine have such a highly developed and finely-tuned sense of humor as to be able to take the nasty and vicious things I said about them with a grain of salt—a salt lick, actually, is what I would prescribe. And our advertisers who I denounced and belittled, well, they don't read this publication so that hasn't hurt us any.
But the whole thing got me thinking, you know, the excitement of my prospects of winning the $11,000,000, the sheer exhilaration I got from phoning relatives and telling them off, maxing out my credit cards, quitting my jobs, it was all a sensation unparalleled by any monetary reward. It's not winning the money that counts, it's the feeling of superiority you get when you think you are rich and better than everyone else, because come on people, when you're rich, you are better than everyone else.
That's when this idea hits me, I need to start a contest in the pages of the Reglar Wiglar! I want to bring that same feeling of intense joy to someone else. I want to share that feeling of finally, randomly and undeservedly winning an insane amount of money to someone else. That is why am so happy to announce the christening of the first biannual Reglar Wiglar Everybody's a Winner Sweepstakes. That's right, you read correctly, a sweepstakes: any of a series of lotteries in which the entire prize may go to one winner (Websters). Here's how you enter: simply write your name (first or last or whatever), on a dollar bill, stick it in an envelope, printing your return address clearly on the outside of the envelope (if you chose) and mail the winning entry form to Reglar Wiglar Everybody's a Winner Sweepstakes Contest Event, PO Box XXXXXX, Chicago, IL 60657. The entry forms will be placed in my bank account and one lucky winner will be notified of their prize winnings. Please indicate if you prefer 8-track tapes or promotional cassingles. Enter as many times
as you like. Remember, the more you enter the better your chances of winning.
Another item of note, you may or may not have noticed that this issue is sixteen pages thicker than previous issues. This doesn't improve the quality of the publication. Nope, it just makes it bigger.
Also, it is with a tear in our collective eye that we announce the resignation of Wiglar co-founder, one time publisher, co-dependent and real live, flesh and blood contributor, Tom Ziegler, from his post here at Reglar Wiglar. With Tom's departure he takes with him Tara Tattle, Oscar the Slouch, Larry Leffert, Lollipop, The Budget Movie Critic as well as a shoestring beer budget and a penchant for cheap hops and Lucky Strike unfiltered cigarettes. Good luck on all your future endeavors Tom and I would like to remind you that (because someone broke the lock) the door is always open, but Malcolm Tent has urinated on your old desk thereby claiming that particular piece of office furniture as his own.
What else (only about three hundred words to fill here, that shouldn't be too much of a problem). Oh yeah, the staff party. We tried a staff meeting once, back around issue #4, and if you remember correctly—and I'm sure you don't, but I'll tell you anyway—it didn't go down so well. The only thing that was really, concretely decided at that meeting was that "No Wiglar function shall ever take place in a bar or anywhere near where alcoholic beverages can be consumed or even thought about."
Well, of course history is destined to repeat itself and that was two years ago anyway. I was sure that the staff had matured somewhat since then. And we have seen the hazing of a few new staff members since that fiasco anyway and some of these people actually have addresses, so I figured, what the heck. Instead of trying to hold together some kind of rag-tag editorial meeting, fuck it, let's just have a goddamn party.
To make a long story short (by not telling it at all), when Joey and Muggsy get out of jail, we're going to start work on issue #9 of the Reglar Wiglar. There's only a certain amount of money in the kitty allotted for bail each month. Not enough to spring for two staff members. It's just too bad that those two chose to go down at the same time. I told them on the phone, either you both sit tight for thirty days and make some new friends fast or one of you is going to have to sit in the pokey and sweat it out alone. I thought these guys were "buddies for life" as they were fond of saying (when borrowing money or weed from each other) but they sold each other out so fast it made me sicker than usual and consequently, I have decided to let both of them rot in jail until the bail money can be raised. Until then, thank you for your time. You all suck.