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uuuuuuuuu ppp ppp eeeeeeeeeeee rrr rr 10:
The lemon-lime soda.
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Once upon a time each homosapien on the planet Earth was a part of
every other. An intelligent person could learn more in meeting another
of his kind, than he could reading a book.
Every time two intelligent people met they could take something
positive from the other, and incorporate that into themselves. Because of
this every man was a part of the other, causing a certain brotherhood
between men.
If you can meet a person and learn nothing from the encounter, either
your an idiot, or the person your meeting is. Because of this, once upon a
time unintelligent people were outsiders, and the intelligent man ruled.
Craving for a piece of that togetherness, the idiots of the world
found a tool that could make them a part of something. That tool was
conformity. Through conformity idiots banned together, losing there
individual thoughts and beliefs and becoming a part of the whole. This was
the dawning of hippies.
Now that the idiots had found there spirit of togetherness there
influence spread. Then one day the idiots leader commited the ultimate act
of stupidity and killed himself. Suddenly everyone said they were an idiot.
They all conformed, and lost there individuality in the process. Soon it
was considered good to be stupid, it was cool to feel pain. Idiots ruled
the day, and were soon to take over the planet. What do you think would
happen if todays morons gained control over our government? How do we get
back to the day of the intelligent man?
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Welcome to the second issue of Upper 10: The Lemon Lime Soda. And
also coincidentally the second stage in the rehabilitation of Handle as a
writer. I actually think that my rehabilitation is going quite well, I have
gone from random babblings to actual stories with a beginning, middle, and
end.
There's only one catch, those stories are neither good, nor amusing,
nor anything. Oh, well these sort of things take time. If things go as
planned, I will eventually regain enough of my writing stature to change the
name of this 'zine to, "7-up: The Uncola". And then following that I will
be able to once again write for the elustrious 'zine raD.
Well instead of babbling on for a horribly long time, I'll put out the
two most horrible things I've ever written, and let you read them. CARAMBA!
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"The Many Exploits of Lynn Belvedere: Der Fuhrer"
Like a mighty roar of thunder from the heavens, bombs crash down on
the bunker of Lynn, violently shaking it, and forcing plaster to rain down
from the ceiling. Furiously storming around the room and cursing to himself
Mr. Belvedere can only bring himself to say one word.
"WESSSSSLEY!"
Suddenly breaking his fit of rage, the door to his private room
swings open. Startled Lynn jumps, but then calms down as he sees who it is.
"Mein Fuhrer! We must talk!"
"Ah, if it isn't Dwayne from 'What's Happening', minister of propaganda.
How are our defenses holding up?"
"That's what we need to talk about. The Russians are within minutes of
breaking through and capturing us all."
"My word, that is quite disturbing."
Suddenly both men are interupted by another entering the room. He is
J.J. Walker, minister of enemy relations.
"The Russian Scout Teams have entered the top floors of the Bunker mein
Fuhrer! They are killing our legions at random!"
"Take us to Def.Con. 4."
"You mean..."
"Yes, give them the Souffle that I just baked as a sign of trust."
"Right away Mein Fuhrer."
"Mein Fuhrer?"
"Yes Dwayne?"
"I've just got word from our Secret Agents George and Weezy, from their High
rise, communications base."
"And what have they to say."
"General Patton is coming in strong from our west, his third Army has
completely decipated our army of black 70's sitcom stars."
"Damn! Then the Souffle won't work! Now we are facing the Americans and
not just those pansy Russians!"
"That is correct sir, I never could understand why the Americans would Ally
themselves with such scum."
"It is all over Dwayne, get out word to our officers, and distribute the
cyanide capsuls."
"But sir..."
"No dice Dwayne, it's over. Damn those Americans! And Damn General
Patton!"
Solemly Mr. Belvedere sends Dwayne away from his quarters and
proceeds to write a final exerpt in his diary.
Today my crusade finally ends. After leaving my service with the
Owens family I assumed that taking over the planet would be the next most
logical step. But apparently those damn allies didn't think so. Oh well,
nevermind, at least I exterminated that horrible, horrible race. Cheerio.
With this Lynn burns his diary and takes enough poison to prove fatal.
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"I Hate Niggers and Faggots."
Today if I was a negro I would have woken up in a pile of shit and
maggots at three in the afternoon. I wouldn't be able to have any
breakfast because I would be black and not have much money. Damn, I can't
take a shower either because whitey turned off the water. I sure am hungry
though, so I go out and sell crack on the curb.
"Oh, no here comes a rival gang with guns blazing!" Damn, shot in
the shoulder again. Usually I try to take it in the leg or the arm but they
got me by surprise this time.
After I stopped bleeding a funny thing happened to me. I thought for
a second that I had to go to school, but that's silly, I don't need an
education. I'm gonna be in the NBA! Man what was I thinking? It must have
been from all that blood I lost.
I'm kind of tired after being shot and everything so I decide to
listen to gangsta' rap and drink as much malt liquor as I can before I pass
out.
Man, those negros sure do have it tough, I should really start being
nice to them. I wonder what my day would be like if I was homosexual...
Waking up at six in the morning I'm appalled to find out I left a
batch of Boysenberry muffins in the oven all night long! I lost most of my
kitchen, even the flower patterned curtains I spent all week sewing! Man,
what a horrible way to start my day.
My depression didn't last long though, I started to get horny. As
you probably know, us gay men are horny all of the time. I spend most of my
day going out and hitting on obviously straight men that hate my faggot ass.
I get a kick out of trying to have sex with people who hate me.
After a long day of hitting on straight men, I dress up like a women
and go dancing with my boyfriend Shawna. I wore the red dress because the
purple one makes my thighs look fat. After dancing I had anal sex with
other gay men for hours on end!
Those gay people sure are disgusting, I'm gonna try not to go around
them anymore, faggots.
If I was the average man living in Asia I would have to wake up early
to practice Tai Chi and soothe my soul. I have to be at peace with Buddah
if I'm going to kamikaze into an American boat later. First things first
though, I got to go tend to the rice fields.
Getting to my fighter plane isn't easy because I have to ride my bike.
I just detest cars, most of us Asians do. I meet up with my friend Chang
outside of his work. He makes Hitashi products. After we meet up we ride
our bicycles to our planes and crash them into the first American ship that
we see.
I hate those damn round eyes, I am glad to give up my life to kill
them. If even just a few. Stupid free market economy.
Being a bigot is fun and easy, minorities suck, so do fags. peace
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Well that about wraps it up for this issue of upper10. Hopefully this
whole not being able to write thing won't last for to much longer, but hey,
what'cha gonna do?
"I just spent 14 dollars, and I feel like puking."
- craig bernautus after spending an hour with his girlfriend at a
county fair.
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Upper 10: The Lemon Lime Soda is a really horrible zine created by Handle
because he's not a good enough writer to write for raD anymore
Upper 10 members: Handle
If you have any submitions for Upper 10, you should go out and have your
sanity checked
I just realized that both articles in this 'zine have something to do with
racism. No offense.
(c) fake copyright
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