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   ooooo   ooooo  .oooooo.  oooooooooooo       HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #698
   `888'   `888' d8P'  `Y8b `888'     `8
    888     888 888      888 888                "If It's Bikini Kill,
    888ooooo888 888      888 888oooo8            It Must Be Friday"
    888     888 888      888 888    "                 by Shana
    888     888 `88b    d88' 888       o              6/18/99
   o888o   o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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        I'm sitting at the desk I picked up at Kmart.  Had to assemble it;
 it's essentially pressboard held together with scotch tape.  Maybe it wasn't
 a good resting place for my fax machine after all.  No one fucking faxes me
 anyway, though.  I just turned 22.  Why do I need a fax machine?

        I am becoming the Internet Male (tm).  An unhealthy obsession with
 techno-toys is certain to shorten my lifespan.  Or maybe I'm just projecting
 my desire to not quit smoking.  Remind me to buy a cell phone and palm pilot.

        Friday night and I'm getting intimate with Wordpad.  Rich NYU
 neighbors downstairs are playing the best of K Records.  Right.  Like they
 know about being oppressed females.  One of the girls is actually thinking
 about buying rights to a film she saw in Cannes.  Meanwhile, the latest
 count of junkies on my doorstep is six.  How many of those six are alive is
 an entirely different question.

        Shit, I just noticed the sticker on my desk lamp (sitting on my third
 world country-manufactured desk) says to use a 60 watt or lower lightbulb.
 The one screwed in is 75 watts.  I guess you could say I like to live
 dangerously.

        What else is there to do in the East Village on a Friday night?  Go
 to a $4 Amstel Light bar and pick up a graphic designer named Alan?  Just
 think, I'll be missing out on fascinating discussion in our post-coital
 bliss.  "Yeah, Shana, I really like desktop publishing.  I just wish it
 weren't so, you know, mainstream.  I've got these great pictures I drew of
 anime characters..."

        "Wow, Alan, it must be tough for you.  Coming from the subculture of
 statistics majors and the rugby team at U Penn, and now to bed of this
 little maroon-haired girl half your age, listening to Belle and Sebastian
 and discussing Wittgenstein for two hours, I hurt for you.  Really I do."

        Funny place, the East Village.  The kids with spikes and blue hair
 can no longer afford apartments here.  They squat, wondering where their
 next tattoo will come from, while I'm cozy and content with my 85 channel
 cable box.  Some New Yorkers say Avenue A stands for adventurous.  I say
 Avenue A stands for Asshole crackhead, get outta my stairwell.  I need to
 get to work.

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 [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS!     HOE #698 - WRITTEN BY: SHANA - 6/18/99 ]