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Doomed to Obscurity Issue 20
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:: doomed to obscurity issue #20 - tHee iNsAnItY iSsUe - april 10, 1997 ::
)- ---------------------------------------------------------------------- -(
"everybody loves mogel!"
- by mogel
welcome to the twentieth issue of doomed to obscurity e'zine. i'd
like to go into great depth about the meaning of doomed to obscurity in YOUR
daily life and how many significant and unknowing influences it has on your
psyche, but instead i'm just going to make lots of random words for you to
laugh at because no one has ever thought of doing such a thing in the
history of e'zines.
gurgle chubby pumpkin douche jerkface spew assfro rattle.
oh. and this month dto goes insane. we all wrote a lot of "humor"
articles except that, by great irony, not a single one is funny at all.
we're just playing pretend.
you should expect all the great things you've come to love from us:
there will be stories about angsty men killing women, of course! so what
*is* special about this month? well, we're dedicating the whole thing to
our universal pal BLACK FRANCIS! not the musician, but the former dto head
editor who abandoned us to work on liberating rice products from corporate
america. wait, don't worry! he'll always be in our hearts.
you should expect only two types of jokes this issue. i'll give you
a quick walk-thru right now.
type one: inside humor
=======================
talk about things that you know your friends will get, but others
will definitely not get. if you're with two people from the computer
underground and two gangsters from the project, that would be a perfect time
to say "give me warez, d00d, for that is k-rad!"
as an added bonus, some of your slow-witted friends will laugh at
these jokes even if they don't get them!
type two: obvious humor
========================
always tell everyone the obvious. the more cruel the better. humor
is aggressive by nature, so you should be, too! if fat guy walks by, say
"you are fat." if bad music plays on the radio, say "this is bad music."
if you are in a straight-edge hardcore punkrock ska band with lots of
tattoos and have an abnormal obsession with taking advantage of underage
girls, say "look at me! i need attention very badly!"
just think of the laughs you'll get! trust me, this is the *only*
worthwhile comedy left. sure it'll be predictable, sure it'll be simple,
but SO WHAT? people have low standards so let's take advantage of that.
because i understand the subjective nature of humor, i know what's best for
you (in my opinion!!!).
uh. well, that's that. enjoy the funnies!
oh, before i forget. don't watch any movies with pauly shore.
please, you're only hurting yourself.
pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis
____
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___| | _______
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)---------------------------- | | | | | | ----------------------------(
| | | | | |
doomed to obscurity twenty | | | | | | and all contents therein..
| | | | | |
)---------------------------- | | | | | | ----------------------------(
|_____| |_____|
|___ _
(-01-) "everybody loves mogel!" :: by mogel
(-02-) doomed to obscurity twenty and all the contents therein..
(-03-) "big fucking aneurysm -- diseases; chapter 26" :: by kaia
(-04-) "dip switch militia" :: by morpheus
(-05-) "julian simmons babysits" :: by sweeney erect
(-06-) "very indie" :: by murmur
(-07-) "barbarian enema" :: by mogel
(-08-) "the severed bloody arm of the manatee" :: by rattle
(-09-) "bored" :: by styx
(-10-) "mastokistic luv" :: by trilobyte
(-11-) "deep" :: by phorce
(-12-) "the #preschool faq!" :: by jamesy
(-13-) "why i wrote for dto" :: by graywolf
(-14-) "earl" :: by creed
(-15-) "super salad" :: by murmur
(-16-) "post more marlena pics and sites" :: by styx
(-17-) "facsimile" :: by murmur
(-18-) "quench it" :: by oregano
(-19-) "love affair in room 212" :: by trip
(-20-) "we did your dad" :: by morpheus
(-21-) "spoon & fork, crazy lovin' style" :: by trilobyte
(-22-) "TEN EZ STEPZ 2 HAVIN ORAL SEX!!!!!" :: by crank
(-23-) "a guide to the only method left on planet earth that can even
remotely give us a chance for world peace or at the very least a
better tomorrow" :: by mogel
(-24-) "you really need to get a life..." :: by styx
(-25-) "thanks for your order, rick!" :: by rick chen
(-26-) "ascii toons: straight-edge comix!" :: by mogel
(-27-) "rollerblades are gay" :: by murmur
(-28-) "my sister sucks" :: by styx
(-29-) "scurvy -- diseases; chapter 1013" :: by mogel
(-30-) "the rice submissions" :: by jamesy
(-31-) "who is this guy?" :: by mercuri
(-32-) "sardines" :: by trilobyte
(-33-) "winnie and arnold revisited" :: by jamesy
(-34-) "life is tough for jason farnon" :: by mogel
(-35-) "a failure that grinds a life to a life" :: by jamesy and enemies
(-36-) "condiments chapter 732: talcum powder" :: by murmur
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"big fucking aneurysm -- diseases; chapter 26"
- by kaia
color me, organically... drown me in rainbows, rape me to the edge of
reality for a puddle dive into the jello of your sweet, sweet grandmama's
dirty toilet water.
you've got to check yourself before you wreck yourself. so c'mon,
xenon, let's do the hale-bopp! karma kharma darma burma rhumba come
helium...
hiking fort hi, king for thai, kinko haiku klux flux kung fu manchu
bacchus, chewbacca tobacco. chickenhead. thickin' dome, the powwow and the
glory are yours, now and forever velvet, crushed underground jelly burst,
hey YOU, pat the velvet-draped manicotti-bird, wormwood! take dat, and
dat!, and dat. take dat and make me a {squishy}. make me a shadow of your
peace. make me a vessel for your bitter wine. make me.
I KNOW YOU DON'T MAKE MUCKEYS but fucking train me, brain me, drug me
up'n shoot me high before you dare to use that sickbed on me. no, NO i say
get me AWAY from the death bed, go forth and bring me an ice cream, go forth
and scream and multiply the fuck away cause i can never remember that 8x6 is
46.
i think my head is going to burst. do you want me to flip this tape
over?
treatment: dilation and cut and paste.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"dip switch militia"
- by morpheus
some guy at work said:
"i wish you came with a dip switch,
like this modem,
because man, you sure are a dip."
and i said:
"go away."
then i left.
i don't need your abuse.
up yours, bitch.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"julian simmons babysits"
- by sweeney erect
one afternoon julian simmons was sitting and watching television when
somebody pulled up to his house. now julian lived in a pretty exclusive
neighborhood where unwelcome visitors were not usually tolerated. this,
however, was an unwelcome visitor in a mercedes and was thus afforded
special privileges.
she came up to his door carrying a smallish child. julian opened the
door and she said quickly, "here she is i'll be back to pick her up at three
thanks a lot bye."
it quickly became obvious to julian that what she had done was simply
mistake his house for the woman who lived next door who took care of
children. the easy solution, of course, was to simply carry the child over
to the proper custodian. then he caught the end of a commercial for a pawn
shop which claimed, "we'll buy anything of value." no sooner had ne heard
these words than he had swooped up the child, a female infant, and headed
out for his car.
it occurred to him that the child might go poo-poo in his car, so he
put it in the trunk. it wasn't terribly warm out, so the child should
probably survive the trip to town.
after about half an hour (he stopped for a bite to eat) he arrived at
the pawn shop. he went inside bearing the child.
"can i help you?" asked a serious looking, greasy young man.
"yeah, i'm here to pawn the kid."
"come again?"
"you said you buy anything of value."
"yeah. but i mean .. "
"are you implying you do not value human life?"
"no, i mean certainly human life has value but .. "
"oh, because this is a female you don't take her to have any
intrinsic worth. sexist bitch."
"no. i just don't think we're really supposed to be buying babies."
"were you explicitly told not to buy babies?"
"no. i just don't feel like putting a price on human life."
"a hundred bucks."
"ummm..."
"i promise the mother will probably be here to pick up the kid at
around five or so."
"i guess."
"hasta."
at around five the woman returned for her child. she knocked on the
door. "hello," said julian.
"hi. i'm here to pick up my child."
"oh, i'm sorry. i pawned her."
"you *what*?"
"i pawned her. you should probably hurry up downtown before the
pawnshop closes to redeem her."
"you bastard!"
"the clock is ticking, mrs., er, whatever you are."
so she stormed off. when she came back to bitch at julian she found
his gate shut tight and his dogs out.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"very indie"
- by murmur
[ this thread begins on the college-radio mailing list ]
> >> i have no problem with your wanting to be the "edge" station for the
> >> mallrat consumer culture of your area, and i sincerely hope that having
> >> a successful mainstream corporate rock station looks great on your
> >> resume...
>
> is that what this is all about... CORPORATE rock? let's see... do you own
> a CD player, car, eat at mcdonalds??? They're all CORPORATE. Why not
> listen to an INDIE cd player, drive an INDIE car?
YES. this is the PERFECT absurd comparison.
there have been loads of indie cars. yugo! and what's a major label
car and what's an indie? is volvo indie but saturn major label because
they're distributed by general motors?
what about food? i don't eat at mcdonald's, i eat at ma and pa
beasley's soul food palace. very indie.
my cd player is constructed out of plywood and miscellaneous pieces
of chicken intestines all soldered together. it was imported by an
importer/exporter from new york who exports sandpaper diapers to portugal.
very indie.
in fact, it's far beyond that. instead of buying into general mass
consumerism with apples or pcs or even amigas, i am actually directly
transmitting this email message to the internet via morse code. just plug
in the home-fashioned telegraph and away we go.
i no longer wear clothes. too corporate.
in fact, i barter for everything, and refuse to use money. i learned
this practice while a youth in rural alabama when my mother's cousin's
husband drove out into the middle of a field, picked up some tires, and
spent the rest of the day swapping items until he could get a washing
machine. he almost decided to stay with the fried ice cream maker but
eventually he got this magic bucket and corresponding elves to go with them.
he also got a magical pan of brownies that when you eat them they come back.
but then the evil corporate thieves stole the pan and replaced it with
non-magical BETTY CROCKER brownies and he DIED from FOOD POISONING.
i'm not ACTUALLY listening to moby right now, i'm just cleverly
imagining his presence here with the help of these broken combs and assorted
food dyes.
i also refuse to believe in numbers, and have therefore removed all
of my tattoos explaining fermat's last theorem from my body. those bastards
can go to a REAL mathematician now and can stop snooping around my ass to
figure out what the hell the variable lower case sigma means this time.
go packers.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"barbarian enema"
- by mogel
picture yourself in this guy's shoes.
there was this guy and he was all pissy 'cause blood oozed out of his
genitals into a rusty bedpan. yeah. he sat there in the local hospital.
he had a stomach ache. this wasn't just the kind of pain that you can sleep
with, you know? he'd been up all night. oh, and he'd lost his job.
it was because of that day. the bad one. the one he got his penis
slammed in a car door. this was of course before the incident in which he
ate ten aborted fetuses for lunch. to his surprise, he pissed insects. he
stumbled headfirst into the festering rib cage of a dead body. his wife
shit in his mouth after he anally intruded their four-month-old daughter.
"daddy" was her first word. he accidentally gave oral sex to a hot curling
iron. a lobster raped him. he was friends with carrot top. he was forced
to listen to morrissey for nine hours straight.
his hand got caught in a meat grinder because he was told to force
feed a fat woman a furry maggot while someone sat on his back and pulled off
her nipple with a rusty set of tweezers. he was getting paid by the hour,
remember.
it was rather unfortunate for his bladder that the nurse kidnapped
his spleen. as a result, all those white blood cells spewed all over the
floor and the bone marrow cranked up production and needed some extra blood
and he ran a marathon and oops he pissed his pants and now he is quite dead.
drink snot? not on your life, sucker.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"the severed bloody arm of the manatee"
- by rattle
i have evolved into a cartoon character. i saw a picture of myself
that was taken three years ago and realized that i have not changed one bit.
in fact, i was wearing the same shirt, the same hat, and had the same
haircut. i can't figure out whether it's weird that i haven't changed or if
i have just been in a trance for what seems like 2 years and nothing has
actually happened.
i know things are getting fucked up when i start to sound like a
jamesy t-file:
"am i in love? if i am in love should i even have to ask myself if i
am? wouldn't that mean that i'm actually not in love? what is love anyway?
can i love? i'm walking down the street right now. look! there's an old
man! HI OLD MAN! 'pardon me do you have a dollar?' DIE. you would just
drink it anyway. you know, that man was free... why can't i be free like
that. he has no one to answer to. i wonder if he has ever been in love.
what is love? am i in love? do i love her? irc is neat. are certain
people really meant for one another? if so what if you never find each
other? is it possible for me to write a whole text file made completely of
questions?"
ok, here's a situation for you. you are walking down the street some
day in a large city. for this purpose we will say it's new york. you are
just walking around outside because you have no where particular to go. as
you are walking down the street some very professional business guy blocks
your way. he says 'the devil has other plans for you' and then your full
name. and while he is doing this his eyes are glowing and shit...
what would you say?
that would freak me out. i'm waiting for it to happen. i know the
devil has other plans for me. i'm all about the devil. i want to find the
anti-christ and form a band with him. chicks would dig the anti-christ.
mr. popeye is a really neat-o guy. he was in 'southside johnny and
the asbury jukes.' they were a really good r&b band in the late 70's. they
were really big for a while. they rocked. if you never heard of them you
SUCK. mr. popeye is my boss. you know that bruce springsteen cover of
'santa claus is coming to town' that you hear at least 15 times every day
during x-mas? mr. popeye played the drums on that. most people don't know
that. mr. popeye played the drums for springsteen before max wineburg did.
now max wineburg plays for conan o'brien and mr. popeye works at hell's
kitchen making tacos. mr. popeye is my boss. i make tacos with mr. popeye.
the other day rick, the owner of hell's kitchen and professional
madman told me that he knew the secret to giving women multiple orgasms.
after i laughed in his face he told me that i didn't know how to please a
woman. so i did what any man would do. i called my girlfriend and had her
tell rick about the night before. i realize that was a waste of time
though. if rick doesn't think i can mop a floor, i don't think i'm going to
be able to convince him i can please a woman. but then that is coming from
a man who watched the porno channel in his office even though it's
scrambled. i know that i shouldn't care if my boss thinks i can please a
woman, but for some reason i do. for a laugh i asked him what the secret of
giving women multiple orgasms was. he said to think of something other than
what you were doing so you would take longer. wow. never though of that,
rick. what really got me is that he felt it necessary to tell he what he
thinks about. he things about a battle ship and all the things that go on
in a battle ship. mr. popeye had no comment.
i was in the car the other day, some lady cut me off, i swerved and
barely missed her. the lady then blew me a kiss. i guess it was her way of
saying sorry. my girlfriend then got pissed and hit me like it was my fault
that she blew me a kiss. i'm really confused over this. something doesn't
make sense, but i'm not sure exactly what it is.
geeks are pathetic. i offer myself as a example... i can't afford to
put gas in my car; today i put $2 of gas into my car so i could get home
when just the other day i was putting a $300 memory chip into my $3000
laptop. enough of this real life shit. back to irc.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"bored"
- by styx
date: 2:27 am Mon Jan 29, 1996 number : 67 of 75
from: styx base : [tsp] wacky stuph!@
to : All refer #: none
subj: boredboredbored replies: 1
stat: normal origin : local
hi. i'm bored.
i got a new razor tonight. well, i didn't get a new one, i just
found it. then i thought "hey, since i just found a new razor, i should
shave!" and so that is what i did. i cut myself up pretty bad... and like,
every time after i shave i have this compulsive-neurotic tendency to keep
rubbing my face to feel the nice soft smoothness of it but right now it just
hurts.
yesterday i went to some place where you buy fabrics for sewing and
stuff with my friend jaime and they had cinnamon incense sticks there and i
love cinnamon and so i looked in my wallet and 'lo and behold - there was
money in it. so i thought "hey, since i have money, i should buy some of
those cinnamon incense sticks!" - and so that is what i did. tonight, i lit
the first one. it turns out that they weren't incense sticks. i really
don't know what they are. they look like incense sticks and they smell like
cinnamon, but when you light them they don't burn slowly and they don't
release a pleasant-smelling aroma. they just kind of fizzle and ignite
anything around them.
speaking of fire and ignition, my sister is now bisexual.
so, i wrote a song tonight. i liked it a lot, and i even wrote words
to it,.. but it was _last caress_ by the misfits. that's the second time i
rewrote that song accidentally. maybe i'm part glenn. i wouldn't mind
being part glenn.
i am freezing. see, i smoke. if i don't have my window open, my
room turns into a massive miasma (hey, those two words go well together,
don't they?) of smoke. i don't like breathing in my second-hand smoke. so
i open the window. then i get really cold. then i close the window and
suffocate for a while and then i open the window and get cold again. i'm
going to close my window now. okay, it's closed.
today when i got home from work i was really tired. dealing with the
public is pretty exhausting since they all have the average intelligence of
my shoelaces. so, i went to sleep. i slept through the entire superbowl,
which i actually wanted to watch, but that's okay because i don't think i
*really* wanted to watch it. i think i just wanted to say that i watched it
and then i'd pretend that i cared. but anyway, i woke up at 10:00 and my
blinds were down so i couldn't tell if it was night or day. i just knew
that it was 10:00. in my post-sleep delirium, i thought it was sunday again
and i was late for work, so i scrambled for my clothes and got all ready and
went downstairs to do bathroom-morning-stuff and my dad was watching the
post-superbowl-show and my mom was telling my cat muffy about how she wished
it were summer and my sister was testing out her new black make-up and i was
very confused and then i realized what i did and thought "boy, that's pretty
funny!" and then i shaved. i already told you about the shaving-part,
though.
if the entire east coast were nocturnal i'd have a lot more fun, you
know.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"mastokistic luv"
- by trilobyte
sal had set out to show the woman of his dreams, jackie, that he was
not anxious to see her. he also had to show her that he had no desire for
her, he did not like her, and he wanted to see her die a slow and painful
death. she was nice to him, and might have liked him, but despite knowing
these things, he still had some point to prove with her.
you see, the other day she smiled to him and said hi. but she didn't
wave, for god's sake. how could she not wave? she obviously hates him.
so, rather than trying to talk things over with her, he cut off his arm.
after he got out of the hospital and returned to work, jackie saw him
and walked over to talk to him.
"hi, sal," she said.
he looked up at her and gave her a half smile. he made sure not to
wave.
"see what i did? i cut off my arm."
"yeah, i heard all about it! how did it happen?"
"well, i sorta just cut it off."
"oh. well. uhmm."
"you see, i was in a bad mood, you know," he told her, trying to show
her how depressed he was.
"yeah, i know how that can be," she replied.
they stood silent for a few seconds. jackie ran her fingers along
her side nervously. she had liked sal, but then he cut his arm off and was
depressed all the time and she really couldn't see the point in starting a
relationship with him now.
"i'm really depressed," sal told her, trying to hint something.
then jackie caught on to his little plan and ripped some of sal's
hair out of his head.
sal smiled.
"you know, my arm doesn't hurt that bad, really. now that it's off,
i won't have such a hard time fitting through doors," he told her. it was
the only positive outcome of removing his arm that he could think of in such
short notice.
"i think you're right," jackie replied. she understood that sal's
method of showing affection for women is to be masochistic, as was evidenced
by his next statement:
"maybe i'll go drink some poison."
she reached out and grabbed his shoulder.
sal tingled. he had never felt so good in his life.
"or maybe not," he said. he felt so happy. she cares about him.
she doesn't want him to drink poison.
"can i bite my foot until i bleed? i kind of want to do that," he
asked her.
"i'd rather you didn't," she replied.
and with that, they went and got married and lived happily. for a
day. that is, until jackie ran into a traffic jam on the way back from
work. sal was worried to death. he was sure that jackie hated him and
never wanted to see him again. why else would she go and have an affair?
he decided to show his hatred for her by poking out his eyeballs. it was
really rather counterproductive, but he did it anyhow. how else was he to
show how angry he was at her?
when jackie finally got home, she was an hour and a half late. sal
was moping blindly about the house, moaning, "oh, my. oh, my. oh, my."
jackie followed the sound and found him bleeding out of his empty eye
sockets.
"hi, darling," he told her. "i poked my eyes out."
"i see," she said. "that wasn't very smart. i was in a traffic jam,
by the way."
"well, sometimes you gotta do what ya gotta do," he replied, as he
felt around for the bed. he found it, and laid down on it. jackie caressed
his leg and told him everything was ok.
"i have to go to the bathroom, i'll be right back," she told him and
left the room.
sal laid there on the bed for a minute or two and wondered what was
taking her so long. did she leave him, blind, on the bed, while she went to
see her lover? he began to moan "oh my, oh my, oh my," and started hitting
himself in the stomach. he hit harder, and harder, and harder, until
finally all the food in his stomach came flying out of his mouth along with
some blood. convulsions continued. more and more blood flew every time.
of course, he knew that she was actually taking a shit, but he still had to
prove his point.
jackie returned into the room and told him to get things in line.
"oh! she doesn't love me anymore!" he thought. he rolled off the
bed, lifted it up with his one arm, and placed its leg on top of his head.
when the bed dropped, it crushed his skull and brain, killing him instantly.
"whoops," he exclaimed, while in the big empty space. he went a
little bit far that time. but at least she got the point.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"deep"
- by phorce
"uh, what?"
"don't you ever think, edward?"
question. hands in pockets -- quarter? dime. nickel.
penny. seventeen cents. movies -- seven dollars maybe.
no money. poor. sex. poor -- borrow? thirteen dollars
owed. no. job? fired. no. co-workers. allison! sex.
fired. regret.
"well, edward?"
"umm..."
question. hands in pockets -- keys. car. drive. sex.
backseat. karen! look up. not karen. regret. look
at shoes. nike. foot locker. mall. sex. jennifer!
lost phone number. regret.
"edward?"
question. sex. final inventory check: keys, seventeen
cents. sex. answer.
"edward? well?"
"umm... do you want to, like, do something tonight?"
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"the #preschool faq!"
- by jamesy
1. what is #preschool?
#preschool is a new irc channel on efnet! it is a role-playing
channel, which means you take on the persona of a character in it! the
setting isn't a pub, an inn, or a bar -- it's a preschool! we're all
children trying to play nice, but when the teacher turns around, hahahaha!
we get to bite each other and rip each other's clothes! the hijinks in
#preschool never stop!
2. how does role-playing work?
well, you take on the persona of a character! let's say my nick is
"JAMESY" and i come into #preschool. i would simply pretend i was either
myself, but pretend i'm in a movie or a play, or i could even be someone
else, and still pretend i'm in a movie or a play! i'd use a lot of actions
to describe what i'm doing! you can do actions by typing /me (text)!
3. is there any other way in which members of #preschool act like
immature brats?
why, as of matter of fact, there is! the op wars never stop in
#preschool! if you are an irc warrior, #preschool is the place for you! if
you ever get in an argument, simply deop everyone, ban them, and change the
topic of the channel to "(insert nick here) SUCkS COCK!" it's THAT EASY!
then, the person you just banned will spend the next five hours
trying to get unbanned, first by asking everyone else who is ops, then by
trying to ride in netsplits! oh, but unfortunately for them, time-stamps
will impede their attempts! but the fun never stops in #preschool! it
never, never stops!
4. what's an example of how #preschool works?
*** jamesy (jamesy@dto.net) has joined #preschool
<bobby> MY MOMMY LIKES TO TAKE HER CLOTHES OFF AND HAVE ME TOUCH HER ALL
OVER IS THAT WRONG???????
<john> SHUT UP AND GIMME BOBA FETT GIMME GIMME GIMME
* melissa steals timmy's sandwich and stuffs it down her shirt!
*** mode change -oooo bobby john melissa timmy on #preschool by __^
*** mode change -oooo jan ricky jo_ fatty on #preschool by __^
<john> U SCUK U SUCK SUCKJ SUCUKS CUSKJC
*** mode change +b *!*@*.* on #preschool by __^
*** melissa has been kicked off #preschool by __^ (stupid h0s)
*** bobby has been kicked off #preschool by __^ (stupid h0s)
*** timmy has been kicked off #preschool by __^ (stupid h0s)
*** jacob has been kicked off #preschool by __^ (stupid h0s)
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*** you have been kicked off #preschool by __^ (stupid h0s)
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)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"why i wrote for dto"
- by graywolf
i had to write for dto. mogel wants me to write for dto. murmur
writes for dto. murmur is my roommate. i had to write for dto. what is
dto anyway? it's a damn 'zine with lots a crummy articles written by people
with bad haircuts wasting their talent. i had to write for dto. it was the
cool thing to do, like jumping off a bridge. since this is my first article
for dto i had to write and say why i wrote for dto because i don't have the
talent to look at a bunch of rollerbladers and waste brain cells figuring
out how GAY they are. i mean what the fuck? how does someone look at a
bunch of kids jumping off a park bench with rollerblades and write an
article on how gay it is. i'm just not that talented. so i wrote about why
i wrote for dto. so sue me. maybe now that i wrote for dto i'll be able to
look at things and think "god that's gay" and write more for dto. dreams
can come true. now go away i have to write a paper for class and this
stupidity is catching.
AFTERTHOUGHT: i hate how microsoft word capitalizes my damn i's.
i didn't want any fucking capital letters. MICROSOFT WORD IS GAY!#@$
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"earl"
- by creed
earl, quik-chek clerk and conspiracy theorist, sat in his lounge
chair behind the counter at his nightly workplace. a cheap television with
a broken channel knob was on, with the volume all the way off. jerry
seinfeld and his cohorts were doing their best to amuse earl and help pass
his time. apparently they weren't doing a very good job. earl's ears were
focused on his favorite radio station, now playing black sabbath's "planet
caravan." his mouth was being entertained by the ninth charleston chew he
had taken from the candy aisle that night. there were only two left and
earl was planning on consuming them as well. and one eye was nervously
following a customer who he thought strangely resembled paul newman while
the other eye stared blankly at the first page of goethe's "faust."
Once more you near me, wavering apparitions
That early showed before the turbid gaze.
Will now I seek to grant you definition,
My heart essay again the former daze?
he had owned the book for at least a month now, and sat with it
twenty times or so, always glancing at that first little rhyme, losing his
concentration, and forgetting about the book for a while. a few times he
had gone farther than that, but never past the dedication. some day earl
would finish reading "faust" in its entirety. it wouldn't be his favorite
book. that was santesson's "understanding mu," although he had quite a bit
of trouble getting through that one as well. but that was earl's
affliction. his mind was entirely somewhere else now. that guy was
_definitely_ paul newman.
earl's mind was like that. he was a pretty smart guy... he had more
important things to ponder than goethe, or santesson, or lovecraft, or all
that other crap he tried to distract himself with. but how would people
know he was a smart guy if he couldn't mention faulkner or umberto eco in
conversation once in a while? and how would earl feel if someone asked him
about goethe and he didn't know what to say?
what the fuck was paul newman doing in a quik chek in central new
jersey?
"planet caravan" ended, but no music followed. there must have been
something wrong at the station. the dj probably fell asleep, knowing that
cheap station, and considering the ungodly hour it was. earl didn't really
care that much... it made it easier to concentrate on his book.
paul newman approached the counter, and placed a charleston chew down
in front of earl's face. earl stood up calmly, looked at his customer in
the face for a few seconds, and spoke:
"is that all?"
paul looked at earl in the eyes and waved his 32 ounce cherry coke in
the air. earl nodded in acknowledgement. "you know," said paul, "you
really should get some kind of slurpee machine in this place. you have no
idea how much of a drag it is to come into a convenience store at three in
the morning and not be able to get a slurpee."
earl just stood there, dumbfounded. a period of silence followed for
the next three minutes. earl's mind was doing backflips. he just could not
comprehend what was happening. this could not be real. oh shit, thought
earl, i better say something! paul newman is trying to buy a charleston
chew at my store and i'm just standing here pissing in my pants!
earl moved closer to the counter so his customer wouldn't notice the
urine stain he had just made on his pants. (paul was already fully aware of
it, of course.) "uhh..." he said nervously, "are you paul newman?"
paul chuckled politely and answered. "i'm glad you asked that,
earl." earl didn't notice the oddity of paul newman already knowing his
name. "in fact, i'm not paul newman, but i am using his body right now.
you see, earl, i'm what you might call a connoisseur of souls. the real
paul newman endowed me with his soul right before he filmed _exodus_. you
can see where that got him. anyway, earl, i know you don't like being led
on and bullshitted, so i'll cut the crap and get straight to the point. i'm
sure you've figured out who i am by now, and i'm sure you know what i want
from you. your soul is a bright one, but i see you struggle through every
day trying to cope with this miserable thing we call society. i can end
your suffering, earl. promise me your immortal soul and i will give you the
life of a prince."
earl's eyes bulged. "no fucking way!!! i'm not going to hell!!!"
paul newman grinned at earl and laughed. "oh, earl, you've become so
naive in all your scholarship. it's not just eternal bliss or torment. the
souls of those great men who have given themselves to me are in hell... that
much is true. but hell is just as much my realm as heaven is your christian
god's. and of course, there are other realms of the afterlife - valhalla is
one of the more prominent, for example. nirvana is another, although it
takes a form much different from our more common planes. but the only
difference between heaven and hell is that your god enjoys seeing good
people enjoying themselves, while i enjoy seeing real people suffer. this
is not the case, however, for those who have given themselves to me. you
know me, earl, i'm a very noble fellow. i treat my guests just as cordially
as you would expect to be treated by your finest earthly prince. all your
favorite authors are there, earl. hemingway, goethe, voltaire... you think
mortal humans could write with that grace? and even if so, do you think the
masses would actually pay attention to them? why, that's an amusing notion,
if there's ever been such a thing. so earl, i promise you, you will live
like a prince until your last breath... and then, you will live like a god,
with eternal grace and brilliance. look at me, earl. i play a fair game.
i don't break my promises, like your pathetic christian god. so what do you
say? do we have a deal?"
earl was glowing with excitement now. he could hardly wait to speak.
"hell yeah!!! i'm sorry i ever doubted you! where do i sign?"
paul newman smiled, opened a briefcase that earl hadn't noticed
before, pulled out a rolled-up document, gracefully, and laid it out in
front of earl. "just sign here on the 'x'. i'm afraid you'll have to do it
in blood. i'm sure you understand." he pulled a long golden pin out of
his white jacket pocket and handed it to earl. earl pricked his finger
anxiously, and signed in his own blood, right on the "x".
paul newman smiled, rolled up the document, placed it in his
briefcase and snapped it shut. "you've made an excellent choice," he said.
"i'll be seeing a lot of you in the future, earl. until then..." paul
newman grinned, grabbed his food (without paying for it), and walked calmly
out the door.
this was a new life for earl. from now on, things were going to be
different. everything was going to work out. he sat down excitedly and
began reading his book again. the radio resumed again, playing another
black sabbath song: "paranoid". earl took a bold sip of his cold black
coffee and screamed out, along with the radio: "CAN YOU HELP ME...
OCCUPY MY BRAIN?!?! OHH YEAH!?!"
meanwhile, paul newman's gentle stride had grown to a quick trot, and
he jumped into his big white cadillac, threw his briefcase in the back seat,
and sped out of the parking lot. as he turned the volume up on the same
black sabbath song that earl was enjoying back in the store, he threw his
head back and cackled with insane glee. "hahaha! another free snack! i
can't believe another idiot clerk fell for that shit again!" he ripped open
his charleston chew wrapper and threw it onto the passenger seat, right next
to the wrappers from the past five or six nights. he took a huge bite and
pushed his white tassled loafer hard on the pedal, right down to the floor.
the engine screamed and he sped off into the night's abyss. and in that
county in which he drove, there were many enlightened convenience store
clerks... but even now, no one knows, or shall know, the fury that is paul
newman.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"super salad"
- by murmur
guy walks into a bar, sits down right at the bar. bartender comes
over and the guy says, "yah, i'd like uh scotch, on da rocks." so the
bartender goes off and prepares the guy's drink.
meanwhile, the guy takes a croquet ball out of his pocket and starts
rolling it up and down the bar. bartender comes back with the guy's scotch
and says, "hey, what you doin' that for?"
"it was hurtin' muh thigh."
"well, it's makin' a horrible racket. can you just set it there and
not roll it?"
"yah." guy takes the scotch and sets the ball down. bartender walks
away.
a minute later, bartender hears a crash. turns around and sees that
the guy has taken the croquet ball and rolled it into the scotch glass,
breaking it.
"hey! what the hell do you think you're doing? you're gonna pay me
for that glass!"
"i think not," the guy said, and he pulled out a squid and threw it
at the bartender. the bartender got covered with ink and lost his sight in
his left eye forever.
the guy took his croquet ball and left.
he would later become a supreme court justice.
but not in this country.
whatever country this is.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"post more marlena pics and sites"
- by styx
yes, i subscribe to rec.sport.pro-wrestling. don't bother me about
it. i am a professional wrestling fan and i'm DAMNED PROUD.
anyway, 80% of RSPW is bogged down with requests from prepubescent
fuckheads from AOL for nude/semi-nude pictures of the female managers of
professional wrestling. this includes sunny, sable, miss elizabeth, nancy,
and as you'll see, marlena... among others. suffice to say that _none_ of
the women of professional wrestling have _ever_ posed nude for anything, yet
these spawn keep on coming, begging for crude fakes made by fellow
prepubescent fuckheads with win95 paintshop. i always wanted to respond...
to scream and yell into the gaping vacuum of AOL parasites, but i never did.
good enough. somebody beat me to it!
---
from itoffling@aol.com sat mar 29 01:23:18 1997
newsgroups: rec.sport.pro-wrestling
subject: post more marlena pics and sites
from: itoffling@aol.com (ltoffling)
date: 29 mar 1997 06:23:18 gmt
now
---
styx's note: i will translate this for you. mr. ltoffling@aol.com
would like some marlena pics and sites... now.
---
newsgroups: rec.sport.pro-wrestling
subject: re: post more marlena pics and sites
from: ranthard <ranthard@cris.com>
date: sat, 29 mar 1997 03:50:33 -0800
itoffling wrote:
>
> now
again i must thank an obvious member of the mensa society for posting
something that is both thought provoking and informative at the same time.
if you'll pardon me, i'd rather watch lochness get a traffic cone rammed
into his ass repeatedly than have to sort through shit like this. had i the
time or the inclination, i would hunt you down, rape your dog, and shit on
every still-standing grave of you ancestors. have a nice day, and yet
again...
GET THE FUCK OUT
thank you, now please kill yourself and remove your obviously tainted
and twisted genes from the pool. it'll make the world much better.
-ted
---
from doomed to obscurity, my family, my iguana, my cat, and all seven
people across the globe that have any inkling of what the hell is going on;
thank you, ted, whoever the hell you are.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"facsimile"
- by murmur
l. ron was an ordinary fellow 'cept he did not like to look at
himself in the mirror. well, he wasn't really ordinary, he was pretty damn
ugly, and believe me, l. ron knew it. so he decided that he'd change his
face.
he went to the face doctor and said, change my face, man. well,
l. ron accidentally went to the evil face doctor by accident and so now he
looks like max casella, "vinnie" from doogie howser, m.d.
this story, however, is not about l. ron, but it is about his dog,
lars. lars was a great dane. no, he wasn't. he was just a schnauzer.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"quench it"
- by oregano
her troubles started when she was young; take thirsty in gym class,
she comes back into the main gym after running her first mile and after
standing at the drinking fountain for 12 minutes drinking till she feels she
is going to burst open with enough water flooding out to fill the gym to the
sodium vapor lights, she sits indian style with all the other girls in the
over air-conditioned gym and the coach wheels out a big cart of gatorade and
asks, "who here is thirsty?" thirsty is ever polite, ever obedient and she
reluctantly raises her hand, the rest of the class keeps theirs down, they
all know what's coming.
the coach reaches into the cart and pulls out a big bottle of
gatorade and throws it to thirsty and tells her to drink up. when thirsty
starts to complain, to express the misunderstanding, the coach shushes her
and says, "i want to see you drink that entire bottle, i'm not losing a girl
on my watch."
thirsty drinks it down, then throws it up.
years later we might find thirsty in a bar, a young turk might walk
up to her and say, "hello, baby, i'm lars." to which thirsty would politely
reply, "i'm thirsty" which got her stuck with a drink she didn't want and
company she loathes.
thirsty tried to cope in various ways, in her rebellious early 20s
when asked by a stranger if she were thirsty she would invariably reply,
"it's none of your damn business." brusque and effective and to the point
but too off-putting for her true nature. she grew out of this quickly.
finally after a lot of soul searching she decided to change her name.
she knew the name had too much meaning to her family for her to casually
throw it away -- half her ancestors on her mothers side of the family died
in a great drought, and her mother wanted her to never forget. thirsty came
up with a perfect solution...
she changed her name to not thirsty. from then on when people asked
her if she were thirsty, she would truthfully reply, "sorry, no, i'm not
thirsty." and the people would pass her by with the unwanted beverages.
the creeps in the bars would still approach her, "hi, baby, i'm lars." but
now she'd just say, "i'm not thirsty," and lars would get the message and
take a hike.
from that day on, not thirsty lived a perfect life.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"love affair in room 212"
- by trip
our torrid love affair began in 1986. she had picked a group of
about thirty young men to live with her in her brothel from 8:30am to 2:15pm
each day monday thru friday, except on holidays.
---
all i could do to restrain my love for her was to clamp tightly on my
lower lip, hoping not to look too desperate, yet still pronounce my love in
all its glory.
she asked me to refrain from gnawing on myself, and to stop staring
at her, because "it's rude to stare, billy."
but i knew she was merely being coy with me, letting me know in her
subtle ways that she desired me even more than i desired her.
she asked me to stop eating the paste.
oh, was she a voyeur! she oh so intently gazed as i haphazardly
scribbled down my feelings for her as best i could.
"billy! share the crayons or you'll have to sit in the corner!"
the way she bent down to pick up the "nap time mats" just drove me
crazy! mrs. thomas, as she liked to be called, was giving a show just for
me.
when i tried to give her a playful pat on the behind, she went crazy
with passion, going as far as to yell my name in ecstasy and even write my
name on the blackboard in the front of our bordello of love, what the others
called "room 212: mrs. thomas's 1st grade class", pronouncing her love for
me to everyone.
all of the other suitors looked at me with envy; they all knew i
would be the one she would choose as her mate in the spring time.
---
it was now may. she had yet to choose anyone for her mate, and the
suitors grew restless. i remained calm, sure in my self that she could
never resist my magnetizing charm.
"billy, please quit wasting paper making cut-out hearts. valentine's
day was months ago!"
and then it came.
"kids, we've all had a fun year for the most part. however, as some
of you might have noticed, billy has problems. i wish you all the best of
luck in the 2nd grade. however, billy won't be joining you. billy will
remain here with me until he can join you all at the next level."
SHE LOVES ME!
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"we did your dad"
- by morpheus
one day we went over your house while you were at school. your dad
was asleep. somebody said, uh... "let's rape him." and so we did. then
all these kids from the arcade came over. "form a line," i said.
then your mom walked in and started masturbating on the bed. "take
a picture," i said, "it will last longer." your mom is such a stupid bitch,
ass.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"spoon & fork, crazy lovin' style"
- by trilobyte
marty and theresa went out for dinner. marty thought that theresa
was an attractive young lady and hoped to gain her favor. they talked on
the phone occasionally, usually until the wee hours of the morning, about
their lives and their opinions on things. they felt very open around each
other and could talk about anything -- that is, almost anything. they could
never bring themselves to discuss the nature of their relationship.
marty hoped that taking her out to dinner at a local sandwich shop
would demonstrate his affection towards her. he hoped she would get the
idea that he liked her and wanted their relationship to grow. he really
knew very little about what went on inside her head and hoped to learn
something tonight. he ordered them both sandwiches and they sat down at the
table.
"you're pulsating," he told her.
she looked left and right, up and down, and then had a puzzled look
on her face.
"i'm... what?" she asked him.
"you're pulsating. look."
she looked herself up and down inquisitively, not seeming to
understand.
"i... don't see what you mean," she told him, to find out if he was
joking or serious.
but, he was serious. theresa was pulsating. in and out. not very
rapidly and not very violently, but, sure enough, she was pulsating.
"now you're vibrating too," marty told her. he had an expression on
his face like he wanted to leave, which really would have been the smart
thing to do. however, he liked theresa, and wanted to stay here and find
out what in the world was happening. and if theresa was sick, he wanted to
be with her, because he cared about her.
"you're changing colors. a lot."
"uhmm," she said, while taking a bite of her sandwich.
"your eyes are getting bigger."
theresa sat and looked at marty, which scared him, because he did not
know why this strange transformation was happening. people nearby began to
notice them, either because she was pulsating, vibrating, and changing
color, or because marty had begun to speak loudly to her. these customers
dealt with the situation by leaving the restaurant, which was the smart
thing to do. they didn't know marty or theresa, they didn't particularly
care about the outcome of theresa's affliction, they only knew that the best
thing to do at that moment was to be far away.
marty was not inclined to leave. he still admired her beauty, even
though her face was mutating and she was vibrating and pulsating. she then
ate the entire content of the plate in front of her in one bite somehow.
the plate had been over half full.
"feed me," she told him.
"you're still hungry?" marty asked her.
"i food."
"ok."
marty looked around for a waitress or waiter, but couldn't find any.
there were no employees left in the place, it seemed. he wondered how many
people were still around, but realized that everyone had left when he looked
out the window and saw that the only car in the parking lot was his own.
the situation seemed desperate. he stood up and walked towards the counter
to grab the basket of crackers resting there, and theresa extended her arm
about 20 feet and took a hard grip on his back. as soon as the basket was
in his hands, theresa snapped her arm and brought marty back to the table
and roughly sat him back down in his chair.
"here's some food, theresa," marty gleefully said. he was very happy
to have been able to serve her and rid her of her hunger. maybe now she
would stop pulsating and vibrating.
theresa downed all the crackers, plastic wrappers and all, and the
basket, and then screamed, "FEED ME, MARTY," which he did without saying a
word. he stood up again and went into the back kitchen to look for some
good food. he found some tomatoes and cabbage, which he grabbed, intending
to bring them to her. he turned around to walk back into the restaurant but
theresa was standing directly behind him.
she was now about 7 feet, 3 inches tall (she had been 5'8", a great
height for an attractive young woman), had black hair (she used to have very
nice brown hair which he had always admired), bulging eyes (quite
contradictory to her former eyes, which had been quite beautiful), and was
drooling uncontrollably.
she looked rather ferocious, really.
"theresa, what's wrong?" marty asked.
she didn't hear him, she was too busy eating things.
"you need to calm down a bit, i think," marty politely told her.
squatting, she had carefully gathered a pile of filth on the floor to
devour, but paused for a moment to look up at marty, say "you," and eat him.
so, his life ended here, at this restaurant, after the girl whom he
was trying to woo ignored him for her own concerns and ended up pleasing
herself by eating him. marty, had he lived through being killed, would not
have liked this night, and probably would have rethought his actions. but,
being as it was, he was in the afterlife, and had no way to turn around and
reverse it again. he had made a mistake by taking her out to dinner, and he
learned something from it, but that knowledge was now null and void.
as for theresa, she went on to eat other things. she stopped,
though, years later. she had been groping around the inside of a barn
looking for animals and hay and things when she thought for a second that
she should probably keep in mind the concerns of other people. these other
people, she thought, the ones who own the property that she eats, probably
didn't like that she only kept in mind what concerned her. so she stopped
eating the people and their things. she changed back into a normal,
attractive young lady and ended up being a nice wife for a nice man.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"TEN EZ STEPZ 2 HAVIN ORAL SEX!!!!!"
- BY CRANK
1) 1ST U HAF 2 FIND A BOY U WNT 2 BLQW... MAKE SURE U THNK HES KUTE OR U'LL
GET SIQ UV HIM & HIZ COCK REELLY FAZT!!!! TRUZT ME!!!
2) STRT 2 KISS HIM, DIS WIL LOSEN HIM UP SO U CAN GET IN TO HIZ PANTZ E-Z-R!
3) SLOWLY REECH DOWN 2 HIS JEENZ AN OPNE HIS FLY ALL THE WILE U R KISSIN HIM
HE WIL LIKE DIZ AN IF HE DOESNT HEZ A FAG!!! FIND SUM1 ELSE!!
4) MAK SURE U UMBUTTNED HIS JEENZ 2 OR THELL GET IN THE WAY
5) STRT 2 GO DOWN ON HIM HEHEHE AN PULL HIS PANT OPH AS U GO
7) PULL DWON HIS UNDIEZ AND FIND HIS ROQ HARD COCK!!!!!!! DIS IS THE BESTEST
PART!!!!
8) SUK ON IT WIF UR MOUTH N DONT BITE!!!! USE UR TUNG ALOT
9) WHTN IT GETZ REL HARD GO FASTR 7 HEL LIKE IT AND HE WIL CUM!!!!!!!!!
10) SWALO DA CUM IF U DONT HE WIL SAY U R A DUM BICH!!!
EHEHHE U DID IT!!!! NOW U'V HAD ORAL SEX!! GO TELL EVERY1!! I HOPE
DIS HELPS U WIF UR SKILZ !!!!
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"a guide to the only method left on planet earth that can even remotely give
us a chance for world peace or at the very least a better tomorrow"
- by mogel
i've been blessed - i have seen the light - i'm your digital savior.
you're searching for answers and i've got them. stop your whining and
complaining. that's you, pal.
if you have any preconceived notions that you, in fact, have any
idea about what is going on in the world -- abandon them.
you're wrong; i'm right.
with that said, i should alert all of you that, in case you were not
aware (and of course you weren't), the world is falling apart. a lot.
like, a whole lot. in many different pieces. look out! big stuff
a-happenin'! scary as scary can be!
ask any oppressed homeless person that's been dismembered for being
ugly and they'll all tell you (even if they are somewhat or often
completely wrong) -- there's just no respect in the universe anymore for
anyone. unfortunately, there's no respect because so many people are
complete idiots like you. but it's not your fault. you were born that
way. those fucking genetics, you know?
if i haven't made it clear enough yet -- we need to kill annoying
people. that's right! the world is going to have lots of bad stuff
(it's too horrible for me to go into detail about!!) happen to it if such
retards continue. i like to call it "aesthetic cleansing."
ahh, but we can't go around annoying people in the quest to kill
annoying people. that would be annoying. for you to understand the nature
of the problem, you must understand the mind of an annoying person.
fortunately, because i am the next incarnation of jesus christ, i am able
to see such things clearly. annoying people continue to be annoying
because they think that there is *someone* that actually gives a shit about
what they're talking about. plain and simple.
it's our job to fuck their shit up. i hereby make the assumption
that the only way the world will get better is if people learn to subtly
make fun of annoying people until they realize they're alienated. there's
only one solution -- let's stop them from being idiots by making fun of
them!!! listen, this plan is sure to work!!! i've tested it myself, ok???
i'm NOT a hypocrite no matter how many times my doctor says i am, OK
FUCKFACE???
ahem.
remember, when you're faced with an annoying person, it's only
natural to jump the gun, but i assure you, it's best if you DON'T do the
obvious and say "that was not funny!" or "shut up!" or "you are dumb!"
it never works.
instead, become *A WISE-ASS*! everyone (and i mean EVERYONE!)
loves a wise-ass! you and that excessive star trek fan next door can
become best friends!
the basic idea here is "play along with them." this can be done
with four basic methods which i will cover now.
take notes.
METHOD #1: "that is very interesting!"
=======================================
there's no better way to make someone feel bad than to completely
patronize them with blatant mockery. yessir. this can effectively be done
if you pretend to care, using lots of exaggerated enthusiasm when talking
to them. sure it's predictable, sure it's more obviously cruel -- but
everyone's watching, so why not?
example:
========
<punishor> my parents suck. i want to kill them.
<yummas> yeah! kill your parents! that will solve *everything!* kill
them all! while you're at it, kill your grandparents! they
brought your parents into the world! kill your cat! she's *nice*
to your parents! kill your whole family!!!!! kill everyone!!!!!!!
<punishor> fuck off!!!!
METHOD #2: "tell me more!"
===========================
sometimes the best way to fuck with an annoying person is to make
them annoy themselves. this can be done by getting them to talk more, but
asking them lots of questions. ask them about every minor detail -- what
time was it? what were they wearing? what did EVERYONE say? why did they
do that? the more subtle, obscure, awkward, and confusing the better.
just keep them talking about stuff they don't want to talk about.
if you want to take this device too far, you can also use the
"what if" modifier and go wild.
<murmur> HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
<murmur> this FROGS album is so great!!!
<jamesy> oh yeah, murmur? tell us about it!@#
<murmur> they have songs like "god is gay" and "i'd like my cock down
your throat"
<jamesy> wow!!! what record label are they on, murmur?!?
<murmur> matador, of course!!!
<jamesy> tell us about matador records, murmur!!!
<murmur> uhm, why do you want to know?
<jamesy> oh, because you're such a good story teller, murmur!
<murmur> FUCK YOU HETFIELD
METHOD #3: "are not!"
======================
sometimes the temptation to tell someone to shut up is just too
great. *don't* give in, as much as it pains you. the best thing to do
when a situation has become this volatile is to fight with them. but do it
"intelligently"!
argue with *every* point that they make. this sure will piss them
off, trust me.
<jodi> i have 4 blue m&ms left!
<dookie> no you don't!
<jodi> uhm, yes i do :)
<dookie> no, you have three. count them again.
<jodi> i don't understand
<jodi> i have FOUR m&ms
<dookie> no, there are three. look. one, two, three. three.
<jodi> THERE ARE FOUR M&MS
<dookie> maybe one is in you're blind spot.
<murmur> learn how to use your fucking apostrophes, or go to hell#!
<jodi> FUCK YOU THERE ARE FOUR M&MS
METHOD #4: "i can do better!"
==============================
my favorite method, but i suggest you use this method as a
last-chance effort because it takes a great deal of skill.
basically, if they're annoying -- play their game to make a point.
start talking about things that they obviously don't care about... scream
absurdities. ask them to repeat themselves again and again (and again!).
<tworivers> i think abortion is wrong.
<mogel> I LIKE SOUP.
<tworivers> you cannot justify the killing of an unborn child.
<mogel> DO U LIKE SOUP, TWORIVERS????
<tworivers> what, mogel?
<mogel> I EAT BABIES. GIMME BABIES. YOM YOM.
<tworivers> mog
el you're sick
<mogel> what do you think about abortion, tworivers?
<tworivers> it sucks
<mogel> why, tworivers?
<tworivers> well your killing an unborn child
<mogel> YOM YOM FREE ICE CREAM!
<tworivers> what, mogel?
<mogel> sweetums, sometimes i'm not romantic enough. shoot me.
<tworivers> mogel fuck you!!!!!!
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"you really need to get a life..."
- by styx
once upon a time, there was a bbs called opaque prism. it was a vat of
goatshit full of doom-obsessed video squirts and their parents... you know,
a "family board!" after 3 or 4 days of reading the message bases, i could
no longer restrain myself, so i tried to liven up the place, give it a
little SPARK. i'm the life of the party, after all.
anyway, nobody liked me :(
the following is a response to my posts, in email, from one of the big
bad co-sysops. after receiving this email, i had a total of 0 minutes of
time per day. two months later, the bbs shut down.
:( :( :( :(
---
enter your user number or user name, or 'new' to apply for an account.
nn: styx
pw: xxxxx
welcome to the opaque prism! you can also directly dial the bbs' nodes.
auto message by: the first mate #1
welcome to the new location!
the deadbeat #4 @3 read your mail on 09/12/96
read your mail now? yes
1/1......... your future as a bbser......
name........ the deadbeat #4 @3
date........ thu sep 12 11:47:29 1996
re: .
my tolerance is directly proportional to the quality of the post. i can
tolerate and understand people who make a concerted effort to TRY and fit
in. when it comes to people like you, who troll for flame bait, just to
provoke a reaction, then my tolerance wears thin.
as for your opinion regarding the quality of posts, it is just that, YOUR
opinion. there are many others who enjoy the topics. I could be tempted to
comment that your lack of interest in what you term "anal retentive
bullshit" is due to your narrow perspective on life and subjects outside a
limited scope of activities which probably includes hanging at the mall,
wearing your pants down around your ass, with a backwards baseball cap,
yelling "wasup" and spending the rest of your time in front of a tv watching
mtv. you really need to get a life...
the amount that you annoy me is insignificant. i am actually breaking one
of my cardinal rules by even replying to this drivel. but no matter. any
post that you leave will have to be validated by one of the sysops before
being viewed by the masses. anything that you leave that is not in good
taste, will not be posted. simple as that. you may get away with things
once, but that will be it.
do yourself (and the rest of us) a favor, and instead of continuing with
this anti-social behavior, TRY to fit in. you might just LEARN something...
-db-
mail {qsridaf?+-f} : q
time expired.
NO CARRIER
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"thanks for your order, rick!"
by rick chen
aite, herez a coo' rap/poem thingie I wrote cuz mogel told me to:
yo, picture yrslf with yr eyez closed,
wrapped around a fiya hose.
(pause)
CHEEZE WIZ IN MY BRAIN AND DONKEY TAILZ EXTRAODINAIRE... *LETZ GIT BUSY*!
my chip corned beef is gitten creamier by tha minute,
cuz ma grrliez cant do tha strawberry funk in it.
smashin carz with barbie dollz,
and my sis couldnt git highya with drano mothballz.
woo!!!! break it down!
(hip-hop drum solo)
ba doom doom PSH! ba doom doom PSH! ba dooma dooma doomba da doom,
ba doo doo PSSSSHHHHHHH!!!!! OOOOOOOAAAAAAAWWWW!!! I GOT THA FUNKY
SNAILZ CRAWLIN ON MA BACK!!!!! YEAH!!!!
aite mofo, here we go!!
ritz crackerz, stay fresh pakz,
capri sun palm treez unda attack.
ma k record cat is gitten real old,
cuz tha mod chickz aint doin what they told....
YEEEOOOOWW!!! LOOKOUT!!!!
(another hip-hop drum solo)
pa tss tss POW!! pa tss tss POW!! pa tss tss BLEEEWWWW!!!!! pa tss tss
ZOWWWWW!!!! aaaaahowwww!!!! I'M ON FIYA, MUGGY FUNKY!!! GIT READY TA
DOUSE ME WIT THA SALSA!!!!!!
(pause)
who wantz tha bovine growth WHOREMOAAANE????!!!!
(chorus): YO YO YO YO SOCK IT TO ME!!!!!
i said who wants tha bovine growth WHOREMOAAAANNE????!!!!
(chorus): YO YO YO YO SOCK IT TO ME!!!!!
hell yeah!!!! tha sergeant of this plasticine bobsled is gitten
hungry!!!! woooo!!!!
keyz, kiloz, keyz, kiloz,
whatz tha remote control on ma seat, yo???
dont give me tha sickness that comez from yr damn tsete fliez!!!!
and dont those paypa clipz git stuck in yr gut??? HELL, ITZ TIME TA DO
THA SHOTGUN WEDDING!!!!
(noise bass riff) BOOM ba DOOM ztssh!!! BOOM ba DOOM ztssh!!!!
(chorus): PERISTROIKA!!!! WORD TO YR MUTHERFUKIN LOGARITHM!!!!!!
vitamin c, vitamin c,
paypa, scissorz, rockz, and fleaz.
fake skull pendant in my cup,
i got my asian christianz throwin up!!!
california sundance kid,
spittin funk lyricz from graveyard lidz!!!
WOOOOOHOOOOO!!!! jewel osco's goin inta style!!!!
(fade with droning hip-hop drum solo and funky guitar riff)
(c) copyright 1997 chenfunq recordz
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"ascii toons: straight-edge comix!"
- by mogel
___________________________________________________________________________
| | _______ | | ________ | |
| people need to | | || SO LET'S GO | | | | there's |
| stop following | | yeah. || BEAT THE SHIT | | YEAH!# | | one now!#!@ |
| social influence | |_______|| OUT OF SOME | |________| |_____________|
| & be individuals. | / | HIPPIES!@ | | | | |
|___________________| /' |_______________| /' | ' |
| \ ' | \ ' | ___ |
| ` ___ %~~~% | ` ___ i %^^^% | /- O\ |
| /o O\ |O o| | /o.o\ ( ) |o O| i | | ^o | |
| | ^- | ( ^ ) | | O | || ( ^ ) ( ) | /\___/\__/~|
| /\___/\ `0'\\ | /\___/\// `O'\\ || | | xxx ___/~|
|_____|__xxx__|________/(_)\___|___|__xxx__|_________/(_)||_|_|_|___|_____|
| | |
| yo i'm so high eheheheheh | .d88b. 8b d8 db .d88b. 8 8 8 8 8 |
| hehe i'm so high hehehehe | YPwww. 8YbmdP8 dPYb YPwww. 8www8 8 8 8 |
| hehe i'm really high hehe | d8 8 " 8 dPwwYb d8 8 8 " " " |
|___________________________| `Y88P' 8 8 dP Yb `Y88P' 8 8 w w w |
| ____ / |_____________________________________________|
| (-o0-) /' O | _____ | | | | |
| | __ | o | | | | i am your doctor. | | sure! | |
| |__U_| Oo--' | |o o| | would you like | |_______| |
| || || | | ` | /| any pain killers? | \ ____ |
| / \_//' | | - | |___________________| (-o0-) |
| | GD _/ | |___| | __ | |
|_______||__|_______________|___|_|________________________________|__U_|_|
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"rollerblades are gay"
- by murmur
one of the more alarming trends of the 90s is that of rollerblading.
somehow rollerblading has combined roller skating and skateboarding and some
other elements into one large, pitiful existence.
roller skates were meant to be fun, and skateboards were meant to be
cool. but then the principle of boarding 'cause you're a punk or boarding
for the fun of it turned into these punk wannabes buying these $150 boards
and trying to one up their fellow faux punks.
now it's even worse. rollerblades aren't steeped in class, they're
steeped in plastic. at least skateboards used to be made of wood. what we
have now are dumb jocks and shitty faux punks all thinking they're cool
'cause they're on blades.
fuck that, man. fuck it good. take those little green-haired 13
year-olds and BASH their heads in with their PURPLE WHEELS. SMASH THEIR
FACES IN WITH THEIR SMELLY DESIGNER KNEEPADS. RIP THEIR EARDRUMS APART WITH
SOME BUZZCOCKS.
rollerblading sure is gay.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"my sister sucks"
- by styx
my sister sucks because she's always on the phone talking to her
boyfriend who sucks. her boyfriend sucks because he's trying to grow his
hair long but it's not long enough yet to cover his eyes so he walks with
his head down constantly but stares through his two-inch-long bangs to give
himself the impression that his hair is longer than it really is, but it
isn't. it's an ugly, tangled mop of shit. he goes well with my sister who
sucks. no matter how much i pester, burn, and physically assault her, she
won't get off the phone with him. they talk for eight hours a day.
sometimes i pick up the phone in my room, push the mute button, and listen
in on their conversation. they talk about everything that sucks.
my sister sucks because she started smoking cigarettes two weeks ago
and tells everyone she's been smoking them for two years. she pretends to
have nicfits. she makes her hands tremble after dinner so everyone knows
how much she thinks she needs a cigarette. sometimes she cuts classes in
school with her friends so they can all go smoke cigarettes. her teachers
call and complain. my parents yell at her. she tells them they just don't
understand and goes into her room to sneak a cigarette. she leaves her
empty packs of cigarettes all over her room so my parents can see how
stressed she is. she isn't stressed. she sucks.
my sister sucks because she dyes her hair with kool-aid.
my sister sucks because she subscribes to teen magazine so she can
complain about how "trendy" everyone in the magazine is at the expense of my
parents' money.
my sister sucks because she listens to marilyn manson, nine inch
nails, and korn. she has all of their albums, all of their shirts, and all
of their jewelry. she thinks she is an angry vampire. all of her clothes
are black. so is her mini-backpack. i snooped in her mini-backpack once.
i found a lot of black things: make-up, hairbands, tampons, and other
assorted goodies that suck.
my sister sucks because she sits in denny's for 8 hours every weekend
night with her friends that suck and her boyfriend that sucks. she pulls
books out of her mini-backpack by anne rice and edgar allan poe and pretends
to read them but all she does is occasionally glance up to see if anyone is
watching her. if nobody is watching her, she continues to pretend reading
her books that suck until she notices that somebody is watching her. then
she turns to her friends that suck and her boyfriend that sucks and
complains that people just don't understand their kind. they pretend to
wonder why they're being stared at. they exchange obnoxious glances at each
other, light their cigarettes that suck, and continue to pretend reading.
this process continues until their parents come and pick them up.
my sister sucks because she brings tylenol to school and pops them.
she tells her friends that it's prozac, ritalin, or xanex. they all believe
her because they suck too. she shares her tylenol with them because they
want to think they're depressed just like her. nobody understands them
because they suck.
my sister sucks because she thinks that every song by marilyn manson,
korn, or nine inch nails is about the government. she thinks everything is
profound but it isn't. her taste in music sucks.
my sister sucks because when i tell her that she sucks she tells me
that i don't understand her, but i do. i understand that she sucks.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"scurvy -- diseases; chapter 1013"
- by mogel
"variety is the spice of life," confucius say.
but you ain't got nothin' when i got somethin' where i was bumpin'
with THE LORD. see, i wasn't just frumpin' on that somethin', but i was
jumpin' and pumpin' and somethin' else when i was frumpin' on that somethin'
where i was bumpin' with THE LORD.
blessed (as a butterfly) in a surprise cameo, rudyard kipling took
the stage and rocked the house. asdfghjkl. tofu. sartre disapproved. my
grey matter wasn't following. so play the tuba; let's get together. i was
a soul sucking jerk with a job making money for THE LORD.
...and i killed the sun-fried army. i told the wickedly funny
dialectic jokes. i made a stinky. thirty-nine days took forever. remember
when cracker performed sleep experiments?
of course i've snorted orange soda! killer buzz. uranium's a rush.
disco king, please hold me.
i bet don knotts would be proud.
treatment: suicide.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"the rice submissions"
- by jamesy
i submitted the following articles to the e'zine "rice" run by our
pal, black francis. oddly enough, they were REJECTED! i was only trying to
fit in.
---
"jenny mccarthy is a sludge monster"
-by james hetfield
you know
it's like
what the fuck
she's so dumb
i mean yeah she might be hot
but if you could turn her inside
out she'd look like that guy
from the mask
and anyway
i don't like big breasts anyway
so like stop masturbating to singled out, dumbasses
cuz, like, she's really stupid
masturbate to demi moore, at least she can act... well not really
but better than jenny mccarthy.
---
"mogel is a faggit"
-by james hetfield
mogel thinks he owns the world but he doesn't understand that
green river is green and rc is brown and he is white
i bet he likes jewel
he thinks he's a sensitive man of the nineties
i'll show him sensitive, that faggot
---
"mother goose & goth"
-by james hetfield
"so, goth, what did you learn today after this fairy tale?" mother goose
said, raising her head from her book of fairy [fag] tales.
but goth was dead. she had slit her wrists out of depression after humpty
fell off the wall. and it's good she did, because she didn't have to deal
with humpty never being put back together again.
---
"god is dead"
-appreciated by james hetfield
god is dead
and no one cares
if there is a hell
i'll see you there
-heresy, NiN
---
"god is a janitor"
-by james hetfield
if you really think about it janitors are the messiahs
cuz they pick up all the shit we leave behind physically
and god is the ultimate janitor because he
picks up all the shit we leave behind emotionally too
man, it must suck to have his hours
---
"i give up"
i give up on life
life is too long
my penis is not long
i cannot please god with a penis like this
just let me die
let me die now
now i will die
let me die now
just let me die
let me die now
before it's too late
let me die now
before it's too late
just let me die
let me die now
let me die now
before the pain
before the rain
before the grain
before more pain
let me die now
just let me die
before it's too late
let me die now
---
"play by play"
so i put my dick into her
but FUCK
it was too small
[questioning]
what do I do now?
do i bother to live?;
should I just die?
maybe a sex change? i always thought i looked good in dresses.
[denial]
no, it's not too small
my girlie's just a skank
she's all loose
no it's not too small
maybe I just wasn't aroused enough
i mean, it seems smaller than usual, RIGHT?
no it's not too small
it just was the condom! too lubricated!
normally I would get off like a big dog!
[anger/denial]
fuck her
i bet she's just loose
that stupid hooker
i hate her
she's fucked all the guys i bet
stupid bitch
[anger/anger]
fuck you
you don't understand what it's like
how would you know
you're atomically correct
fuck you
you don't understand what it's like
to have no manhood anymore
fuck you
you don't understand what it's like
to be too small for the only one you'll ever love
[pity/depression]
i should've known it was too good to last
she is so beautiful
everything seemed so right
there's nothing i can do
she hates me now
she wants someone else
someone to fulfill her
i should just end it now
[depression/suicide]
to die
to sleep
no more
aye, that's the rub!
die die kill me now before it's too late
[humor/comic relief]
my name's scroby
are you my mom?
[anger]
fuck you
fuck you for reading this
this is my life we're talking about
you're laughing at my life
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuckrouy
tuckr
y
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"who is this guy?"
- by mercuri
who is the jerry seinfeld guy? have you heard this guy's comedy?
who told this guy he was funny? who are these people?! what are they
thinking?! and who are they!? more importantly, what are they thinking?!
have you ever noticed how his show comes on at the same time each
thursday? what is going on with this?! does this national broadcasting
company worship him like the pagans worshipped the full moon!? every
thursday at eight pm _sharp_ his show is on! what's with that?! should
i start offering him animals?! "here, seinfeld! here are your animals!"
who is this guy?! who are these people who offer him animals?! who are
they?!
what is with his fans!? who are these people?! he just points out
things and they laugh! there is no joke to them whatsoever! he just talks
and talks and talks and exaggerates and talks and talks and exaggerates on
forever! what's with all that exaggerating? have you ever noticed that?
what's with that?!
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"sardines"
- by trilobyte
"this is one boomin' party," julio thought.
people were all over, drinking, smoking, making love. julio didn't
know any of them, but they seemed cool to him. he looked over at the couch.
there was a man there with a beard who looked cool. julio turned to talk to
him.
"hi there," julio said.
the man looked at julio and began laughing hysterically. other
people at the party noticed that the bearded man was laughing, so they
turned and looked at julio and began laughing too.
this went on for a minute or two, then people started falling over
dead. after all the people had died, julio realized that he was funny
looking. actually, he was damn funny looking. funkier than shit. he
realized that he had killed all these people by them looking at him! he
called the police to have them come over immediately.
when they arrived, julio kept looking at them funnily and saying
"hey, look at me." they did. they collected the corpses and left.
three weeks later, the coroner declared that the cause of death was
from bad sardines.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"winnie and arnold revisited"
- by jamesy
hi. i like snapple. when i'm bored, i kidnap a local youth, slice
open his midsection, and stick my turgid cock into his fleshy innards. i
listen to marilyn manson because i'm different. i stick cucumbers up my
ass. i wear flannels that haven't seen a wash since the glorious revolution
of 1688. i like to lap up my girlfriend's urine. i had my toes removed at
eight years old. i tried masturbating to porn once but it's too weak, i
have to load up images of naked girls and images of car accidents to feel
any twinkle in my crotch. i eat babies. one of my favorite experiences is
when i tied up a macomb beauty pageant winner, shit on her face, and pissed
inside of her. I then cut out her small intestine and used it as a pillow
for the next week and a half. it dried up after a while, but then i simply
pissed on it and kneaded it with my hands. i once went to the store and in
the produce section this lady was squeezing the oranges so i said, "hey
lady!"
why are you fucking jews are all alike. give you an inch, you take
an entire nation. we'll kill you all yet, don't you worry. we'll start
with your mothers, and then your fathers, and then your fucking rabbi, too.
we'll burn your torahs and have sex on your talmuds. we'll cut off your
feet and make you crawl on burning coals. but that's not enough for you
kykes. we'll then slice up your children right in front of your eyes. and
make you tell us to do it, and how to do it. we'll force you to tell us how
to disassemble your kids, or you'll die the death of a million cuts.
yo. the best lubricant for me is vomit, blood, and assorted eyeballs
mixed up in a blender. i was really upset when dylan got shot. i like to
cut the ligaments out of my legs. my mom wants me to go to college, but i'm
gonna be in a band. i have a tattoo of the apocalypse on my back. i watch
party of five. my bed is dowsed in human blood to make me feel more at
home. i listen to pearl jam because they fucking kick think juliet
binosche and.
i bleach my face and wear charcoal as eyeliner. i chew on glass to
scare my friends. over there is james monroe.
hey. i once got so fucking drunk that me and my girlfriend and she
was really fucking drunk and she threw up all over me while we were having
sex and like we still finished up with vomit sliding all over our bodies as
i banged her.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"life is tough for jason farnon"
- by mogel
mike awoke.
"you are one stupid son of a bitch!" he growled, still drunk from the
night before.
the computer made a beep; must've been irc.
"you suck. you're dirty. you're not soft. you make me mad. just
one pillow, huh? you've got vomit stains. you're so stupid. you're so
fucking stupid. you're so damn buttfuckingly stupid. you suck. you're an
idiot. you're a moron. you're one stupid fucker. i hate you with all my
heart. you exude so many qualities that grab the true essence of horrible
and pathetic. you remind me that women are all retarded. you were given to
me by my fucking crappy university that sucks. fuck you. you suck."
he went back to sleep.
"i hate you, bed."
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"a failure that grinds a life to a life"
- by jamesy & your fuzzy buddies at dto
she pulled up to his house. the moonlit sky looked like a sky with a
big fucking moon in it. the air was quiet, the smell was loud. onions.
onions everywhere. later on he would hate onions. she didn't know that
now. neither did he. neither did the pope.
assention.
undaunted, he slowly worked his guilt-ridden body towards the car,
knowing this time wouldn't be any different from the others. of course, it
would be different from the others, since the boogey-man was stalking them,
but he didn't get them, so it doesn't matter very much. as he got in, he
remembered the day he and one of his friends played the new version of
dig-dug together, and with only one set of quarters got to the first boss.
if only life was that simple, he meditated. if only the bean burrito was
forty-nine cents. if only guacamole wasn't extra.
as he entered the car, as they stared at each other, as he composed
an inner soliloquy unto himself, he accidentally blurted out "i'm a big
peanut! i have gay hair! my dog loves me! i almost won the dodge ball
tournament in the third grade! no matter what anyone says, the cartesian
plane will always be *my* plane! fuck the establishment! we're different,
like everyone else! i sure suck, but i'm king of the world! hey, let go of
my eggo, bucko! oh my oh my oh my, what if it was true??? i gotta go out
and get some surge! my grandma makes the best cookies! et tu, brute? then
fall guatemala! if you want to get something done, you've got to let
someone else do it for you. i saw the sign! it opened up my mind i saw the
sign!"
he compuncted.
"scot," she said, breaking him out of his concentration (notice the
changing of the name for literary effect. this is a device i will use quite
frequently to protect myself).
"scot, i've got to tell you something." her lips were blood red in
the pitch black darkness.
"yeah, victoria? are you going to ramble on about how much you care
about me? are you going to send me an old email i sent you with the word
'BULLSHIT' written all over it? are you going to treat me to a night filled
with ramen and romance? are you going to watch the bulls game with me? are
you going to come to a seminar teaching the inspirational words of
F. A. HAYEK?"
"no, scot. i never do anything. i'm locked up in a tower like that
one chick in that fairy tale, and i need a man to come save me or some
shit."
"you mean juice newton?"
"actually, i meant the girl in the pink dress from the pac-man cereal
commercial."
"oh. what were you going to tell me again?"
"if you want my future, forget my past."
"whoa. that's really weird, because i was just thinking about how
time is a made up thing and how like fuck, we're all fucked up, you know?
it's weird."
"scot, if you want to get with me, better make it fast."
"is that a threat, victoria?"
"i'm on my way down."
trapped in a conundrum. what about his perspicacious, attractive,
and highly sober and bespectacled girlfriend at wherever she is? what about
his future as a historiographer? he never figured it would be like this.
he figured it would be just a simple fling, because, you know, he's a guy
and he doesn't give a shit about anyone except himself. and dexter manley,
the illiterate former all-pro defensive lineman for the washington redskins.
cocaine is a bad thing.
wait, he cares about john cougar too. but not john mellencamp, the
bastard.
"what exactly are you considering, victoria?" he precipitated.
"YO. i'll tell you what i want, what i really really want, so tell
me what you want, what you really really want!"
"i'm not ready for commitment, victoria. please. don't pressure me.
i just don't know what i want... i'm so confused!" he pejoratived. he did.
she didn't listen. insert minimalist encompassing phrase here.
"i wanna, i wanna, i wanna, i wanna, i wanna really really really
wanna zigazig ha!" she jettisoned, tears forming at the edges of her eyes.
never again; it was there.
percolation. my cornucopia. forever thwarted by the mind of one
whose mind was no more a mind than perhaps another's mind may not have been
never mind.
they were beautiful eyes, except for the pussing substance oozing out
of the starboard one.
"oh, is that all? phew. you had me all worried about all that
caring shit and stuff. you sure that's all you wanted to say?"
rambunxious antidisestablishment. i pity the foo.
"i want you to meet my friends; the animals."
he never wanted it to get this far. now she wanted him to meet all
her friends and show him off like a trophy. a trophy! a bowling trophy!
one of those with the little guys and the ball coming out of his arm on the
top and the dip-ass little eagle-shit things on the sides! one that could
forever damage one's precious space bar if dropped just right! the pain was
seething under inside of him, much like that one comic where that spider guy
has that thing he's wearing and it's like hurting him and shit but then the
suit becomes its own character because it's an alien or some other shit. i
love that shit.
"i'm sorry, victoria, but i'm just not ready to meet your friends...
the whole thing sounds pernicious to me..."
a look of rage covered her pale, scaly face. a tangent to a circle
is a line or segment that touches the circle in but one distinct places.
"don't you remember me? how we used to be? don't you think we
should be closer?"
he looked perplexed. all he knew was trouble. and he could get the
little bubble thing to give him a six each time. oh boy did he ever have
nothin' but pain and pain and pain and his whole life is pain and he's a
pitiful character so you should pity him and shit.
"i know you're fucking someone else."
she diluted his thoughts. negated preponderance. was she saying
what he thought she was saying? were the telecommunications in this virtual
story corresponding correctly and correlated coherently? or was this a
game, all just a game for him to become trapped in the spider's web like all
the little tse-tse flies before him?
"don't worry, my mom will pay for everything."
she was torturing herself because she thought herself into a box
until i couldn't take it anymore. i've got these feelings and they're
definitely surrounding her delusions towards my current incarnation of
myself when i wasn't trapped in a box like she was. but now i am, and she
is not. or maybe she is. i forgot.
"SLAM YOUR BODY DOWN AND WIND IT ALL AROUND. SLAM YOUR BODY DOWN AND
WIND IT ALL AROUND."
interjacence. usurped parallelism. latus rectum at x = 3.
he gave in to his hormones. the tragic hero fell into the brink of
the sarlaac pit, also known as bloomington-normal. you're supposed to think
the author is really deep now and stuff. and this is the part where the
author would normally write something really cryptic, but instead he will
simply describe how he enjoys his blowjobs.
"sloppy, sloppy, sloppy."
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"condiments chapter 732: talcum powder"
- by murmur
so there's this guy and he's got this big ol' x on his hands and i
walks up to him and i says, hey, mister, somebody has labelled you as a
renegade wallaby. and he says, whut fuck u smok? and i says, you is a
renegade wallaby. he says, fuck u, i am not a wallaby, i am strate-edge.
so then the RUMBLE comes IN from the CORNER of TEN and we go SAILING IN THE
MOONLIGHT, LOOKING FOR SOME SEA DUMB. can you spare a cup of joe? how
about mr. scott's ivanhoe? NO NO NO, YOU DWEEB, i can't take you to the
fret. man alive, sister. he then attacks me on moral grounds, saying, you
don't eat meat, but you sure like the bone, and that was the final straw, it
was a DOUBLE SHOT OF MY BABY AXE. SHOOT. and he dropped like a fly in heat
and said, man, you play one mean post. he was pretty fuckin' forward so i
watched him good with my mallot. and i think i'm goin' out of my NASAL
PASSAGES, FAR TOO CLOGGED, WENT TO DETROIT, JOINED THE MOB. parsimonious
and pink the palette the parson places upon mine 'tato skins got real potato
appeal, 'cause they're made from potatoes and OH SHIT MISTER DANFORTH$R#*&
but that is quite all correct. yes. OOHHHHHHHH. you are correct, SIR,
SIR, SIRE MINE FILLY, SIRE MINE FILLY WITH A ROUTINE PHYSICAL AND
VACCINATION AND OH DOCTOR GIVE ME THE GOOD STUFF AGAIN, I LIKE IT SO VERY
MUCH IN THE POOTS. YUMMY APPENDIX. MUST NOT LET SCULLY CATCH ME. i am
tame and wild like the ganges. the ganges river, bold and fluffy, fluffy
like the summer breeze, and full of purple purple purples. purple purple
purples like the purple purple FUCK YOU GRAYWOLF SHUT UP AND DON'T BE SO
DUMB WHEN I'M WRITING THIS MOTHERFUCKING CONDIMENT. heehee. HA HA. SHOCK
TO THE SYSTEM. I SAY COOL. OH ALRIGHT$&%T^&
moral: sloppy, sloppy, sloppy.
s$
$$ $s .d""b.
)------------------------ - .d""$$ $$sS$$ $$ $$ - ------------------------(
$$ $$ $$ $$ $$
:: doomed to obscurity :: $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ :: doomed to obscurity ::
$$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$
)------------------------ - $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ - ------------------------(
"Tss$$ "TssT" "TssT"
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(c) copyright 1997 doomed to obscurity productions. all rights reserved.
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
)_) _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
((______/ ..\ / \
| /--( = = YOU HAVE FOUND THE SUPER HIDDEN NYBAR FILE! |
|||---||| \ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ /
M M M M
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
"normal day"
- by nybar
it was a completely normal day in delaware.
mr. pigeon: "LOCOMOTIVE!"
mr. wiener dog: "NO!! NO!! AIRPLANE! FOOL!"
mr. t: "WHO DA FOO'? YOU DA FOO'! I PITTY YOU, FOO'!"
purple monkey dishwasher: "exxxxccceeeeelent!"
mr. grasshopper: "i LIKE CHEESE."
mr. wiener Dog: "i don't get it."
mr. mailman: "it wasn't a blue frog, joke!"
mr. grasshopper: "I LIKE CHEESE."
mr. t: "i pitty da foo' that don't like the cheese."
mr. grasshopper: "I LIKE CHEESE."
<mr. pigeon eats mr. grasshopper>
mr. pigeon: "BURP!"
mr. wiener dog: "whew... smells like cheese. blorf a-glak."
mr. pigeon: "I LIKE CHEESE."
mr. cheese: "i am the cheese; I STAND ALONE!"
<mr. pigeon eats mr. cheese>
mr. pigeon: "BURP!"
mr. wiener dog: "eew... smells like grasshopper."
<mr. pigeon eats the universe>
mr. pigeon: "BURP!"
mr. wiener dog: "I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IT SMELLS LIKE!! I'M
JUST A BIG, FAT, PLUMP, JUICY WIENER DOG WHO
CAN'T COMPREHEND THE VASTNESS OF THE UNIVERSE!"
<mr. pigeon eats mr. wiener dog>
mr. pigeon: "BURP!"
)--------------------------------------------------------------------------(
