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s$
$ .d""b. .d""b. HOE E'ZINE #999
[-- $""b. $ $ $ $ -- ------------------------------------------- --]
$ $ $ $ $ss$ "THE MADCAP LAUGHS"
$ $ $ $ $ by AIDS
$ $ $ $ $ $ 1/09/00
[-- $ $ $ $ $ $ -- ------------------------------------------- --]
$ $ "TssT" "TssT"
COUNT YONDER CLOCKS THAT TICK THE HANDS OF TIME
tickety tockty sickity sockety slappery-doo sippery simperer sooie
tired of all my lies being made public, he said, and I could only
nod in response. Had only someone told Mister Jarett Kobek that the
world was not prepared for those without a non-discloser policy, perhaps
the crucifixion would have happened later than sooner. There were 18
before Christ and 1 after, and the last was the last, and his name was
Kobek and the Pharisees and the Saducees did fear him as they feared God.
For they knew he was not of God, but something bigger.
THE HONESTY POLICY: and he didn't mean that the divine unity and
st. sophia, ah st. sophia, he didn't mean that you gave out a thousand
little disbursements of the bawdy details of your life, no, that could
never be considered honesty, but rather a form of decadent self-deception;
no, the honesty he brought was that in your face ruthless persecution of
your human flaws. YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE IN LOVE but he told you it would
be over by next summer; and was he ever right? 1 + 3 = 4 times a lady.
What all the whores propound to have, but none really do. It's alright
to push it so far push it so far up and in but the cervix is the end; but
ah, this is why the Pharisees fled; he knew how to move INTO the cervix,
bringing cancer and death at both hands: AND BEHOLD I SAW DEATH AND HE
ROAD A PALE HORSE AND HELL FOLLOWED WITH HIM; verily, I did say, Here was
the edited version of the new testament, not that it necessarily means
anything to the likes of you:
JOHN
EPISTLES OF PAUL
ACTS (with caveat introduction)
It ever shall be hard for you to kick against the pricks.
They burned brands of your heart
into cattle
in the heartland
I o
a m t u
w V t I HAVE TRIED TO RECREATE HER HEART
h t BUT EVEN IN THIS I AM A SICKENING
a c FAILURE
u r
s
Okay, so here's the thing, my life fucking sucks. plain and simple. And
I'm not just bitching. It really does suck.
THE HI-BIT HO-DOWN
8 yrs old - raped.
12 yrs old - raped again! c'est la vie!
14 yrs old - first true to life sexual experience
14-present age (201) - living with the stereotypical female nympho
okay, got that out! Now, understand, even with this bullshit that
happened in the BEG-inning of my life, I'm not upset at that (?) or the
fact that it happened or my inability to properly use pronouns. I may-BE
a bit sad at times that my innocents, all those wonderful jewish
innocents, wasn't mine to give, but now as I see it I'm a lot stronger
and less literate.
After my first experience when I was 14, I started craving sex. not like
you crave a candy bar or a mainline shot of dope, but a craving like i
had never felt before. like it controlled my life. drove me to insanity a
time or two... seriously i thought my mom was gonna put me in the ol'
sanitarium once. but anyways, as I said it drove me. and before i knew
it, i was classified as a "SLUT" or "WHORE." and it just made laugh. Like
Mike Muir. well not in the beg-inning. i cried until it hurt to cry, then
i lost my ability to feel pain. people are mean. thats all there is to
it, you get pas that, and you get past just bout anything. EXCEPT YOUR
FUCKING RAPES, YOU STUPID JACKASS.
well i have had a lot of partners, and i guess now, if i looked back i
was a slut. but i was always protected, even when i conceived my son.
whom now is 3 yrs old. Yes, this curse will perpetuate indefinitely and
it will cost AIDS 50% of his salary in my welfare checks. Also defense
budget. i was 16 a the time of his birth. and it was hell. but again, i
am off the subject i'm trying to get out here.
i don't get where people get off being so high and mighty. classifying
everyone and everything that they aren't like they were darwin. if
fucking pisses me off. god, if they only knew what it was like to be in
my shoes once. when i was lil' and ignorant of what was happening to me.
i think that that was what really has the biggest impact on my life, i
mean, i didn't care about sex as an intimate thing between two people who
cared about each other, it was a drug. something i just had to get. i was
a 15 year old boy.
why should any have to deal with this pain? how can i laugh tomorrow when
i can't even smile today? why should people be able to get away with this
torture? now you know my life story. well my life sucks. plain and
simple. and if you don't agree, eat me. i want it bad. i live in this
hell, the hell others created for me. I call this hell "earth".
WHAT IS THE OBJECTIVE LESSON OF THIS FILE?
YOU FUCKING NEED THERAPY, YOU DUMB BITCH
GET INTO IT
AND STOP HAVING CHILDREN
I DON'T EVEN WANT TO PAY FOR MY OWN
LET ALONE YOURS
How did I meet you? I don't know! A messenger sent me in a tropical
storm.
THE MAGICAL MYSTICAL ART
of surrealism
or
THE HOE FILE "LIFE" by LIL' TAZ (#905)
as perceived as the GUNS N FUCKING ROSES
SONG
"rocket queen"
After my first experience when i was 14, i started craving sex.
not like you crave a candy bar or a cigarette, but a craving like i had
never felt before. like it controlled my life. drove me to insanity a
time or two... seriously i thought my mom was gonna put me in a mental
ward once. but anyways, as i said it drove me. and before i knew it, i
was classified as a "SLUT" or "WHORE." and it just made me laugh.
If I say I don't need anyone
I can say these things to you
'cause
I can turn on anyone
Just like I've turned on you
I've got a tongue like a razor
A sweet switchblade knife
And I can do you favors
But then you'll do whatever I like
well i have had a lot of partners, and i guess now, if i looked
back i was a slut. but i was always protected, even when i conceived my
son. whom now is 3 yrs old. i was 16 at the time of his birth. and it was
hell. but again, i am off the subject I'm trying to get out here.
Here I am
And you're a Rocket Queen
I might be a little young
But Honey I ain't naive
i don't get where people get off being so high and mighty.
classifying everyone and everything that they aren't. it fucking pisses
me off. god, if they only knew what it was like to be in my shoes once.
when i was lil' and ignorant of what was happening to me.
Here I am
And you're a Rocket Queen oh yeah
I might be too much
But honey you're a bit obscene
i think that that was what really has the biggest impact on my
life, i mean, i didn't care about sex as an intimate thing between two
people who cared about each other, it was a drug. something i just had to
get.
i always want to be different, try to be at all times. and so when
people criticize me now, i laugh. its funny to me to be called a slut. i
mean, my normal remark is, "yer just jealous cause your not getting as
much as i am.
I've seen everything imaginable
Pass before these eyes
I've had everything that's tangible
Honey you'd be surprised
I'm a sexual innuendo
In this burned out paradise
If you turn me on to anything
You better turn me on tonight
and then sometimes, i still go home lock myself in my room and cry.
I see you standin'
Standin' on your own
It's such a lonely place for you
For you to be
If you need a shoulder
Or if you need a friend
I'll be here standing
Until the bitter end
why should anyone have to deal with this pain? why should people
be able to get away with this torture? now you know my life story. well
my life sucks. plain and simple. if you don't agree, eat me. i live in
this hell, the hell others created for me.
No one needs the sorrow
No one needs the pain
I hate to see you
Walking out there
Out in the rain
So don't chastise me
Or think I, I mean you harm
Of those that take you
Leave you strung out
Much too far
Baby-yeah
uh, superfluous lyrics that not lend themselves to my cause:
Don't ever leave me
Say you'll always be there
All I ever wanted
Was for you
To know that I care
NEW GUNS in '00!!!!!!! YEAH FUCK YEAH!!!!!!! FUCK YEAH LIVE YOUR LIFE
LIKE IT WAS A COMA!!!!! HAHAHAH!!!!! WHAT'S UP MOTHERFUCKERS?!
welcome to the guns n' fuckin roses newsletter NUMBER ONE!!! AHAHAH!!
this is the text file group about fuckin' doin what's right, ROCKIN' AND
FUCKIN' ROLLIN' UNTIL YOUR HEADS FALL THE FUCK OFF!!! AHAHAHA!!!! we have
ONLY one rule and thats: NO PUSSIES!!!! THAT MEANS YOU JAMESY YOU
FUCKIN NIGGER-LOVER!!!! FUCK YOU!!! YOU THINK WE GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR
BULLSHIT LIES?!! EAT SHIT, FAGGOT!
YEAH! listen this motherfuckin textfile group COMIN' ATCHA is no
fuckin' joke!! we want all you fuckin' pussies out there to know that
your time has fuckin' come!!! you hear that, JAMESY, YOU SHIT-TALKING
ASS-SUCKING PANSY!!! it's about time you fuckin' got WHAT'S COMING TO
YA!!! AAHAHAHAH!!! YEAH MOTHERFUCKER! just never show your face around
us real rock n' rollin' motherfuckers or i guarantee you you will get
your fuckin' ass kicked!!! we don't take excuses from nigger-lovers,
ASSHOLE!
OK!! ROCK THE FUCK ON!!!!
I DON'T THINK I EVER WANNA COME BACK TO THIS WORLD AGAIN / take me away
from this modern world / I AM AXL ROSE WE ARE ALL AXL ROSE NIKE
ENDORSEMENT DAN BEN SPAZZING SWOOSH BABY SWOOOSH YEAH CAITLIN LISTENING
TO MP3S IT's THE TOURE TO END ALL TORURE I CAN'T HELP IT HELP I AM LOS IN
THIS SEA HELP HELP HELP HEP HELP HELP HEP CATS DANCE ON MY HEAD ON MY
FLOOR FUCKING GETTING BUSY ON MY COUCH
WHAT WAS BUGS' MISTAKE?
(see below)
Bugs' mistake was meeting the Brown Detective Agency alone.
Sally held Bugs down and sodomized him with a power drill. By the
time she had worked her way up to the three-eighths-inch bit, Bugs was in
a talkative mood. Encyclopedia Brown elicited the appropriate confession
and obtained a full refund for the other kids. Sometimes, not having a
shred of evidence is no obstacle for a real sleuth.
Encyclopedia Brown does it again!
THERE'S A CIVIL WAR GOING ON IN KOBEK'S BODY RIGHT WHO'S MORE RACIST
T-CELLS OR HIV VIRUS? T-CELLS CUZ T-CSELLS HATE T-CELLS TOO! THERE'S SOME
SHIT GOING ON WITH JARETT'S BODY1 THERE'S A CIVILKW AR GOING IN KOBEK'S
BODY RIGHT NOW THERE'S T-CELLS AND THE HIV VIRUS CAN'T OPEN A DISCO
WITHOUT IT CLOSING IN 3 WEEKS CAN'T GO SEE A MOVIE THE FIRST WEEK IT
OPENS WHY? HIV SHOOTING UP THE SCREEN WHAT KIND OF IGNORANT ASS SHIT IS
THIS?
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There are 5 messages in this issue.
Topics in today's digest:
1. Vids
From: turnbuis@dcs.gla.ac.uk
2. re: vids
From: mark@mpaa.freeserve.co.uk
3. Re: Vids
From: "Mark Coyle" <mark.coyle@btinternet.com>
4. Re: Vids
From: "Mark Aldridge" <mark@mpaa.freeserve.co.uk>
5. Re: Vids
From: "Mark Coyle" <mark.coyle@btinternet.com>
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
Message: 1
Date: 29 Nov 1999 10:43:46 -0000
From: turnbuis@dcs.gla.ac.uk
Subject: Vids
Hello Wicker men and women
I joined this community thing last night and sent a message but it didn't
seem to be posted. So I have sent it again.
There was a copy of a 101 min cut video of TWM available at Amazon
yesterday for $49 which is circa M-#27.
I heard about the WM originally from a Cockney friend who did
impersonations of Edward Woodward's Scottish accent A few months later I
saw the documentary and then Channel 4 showed the film.
At the time I was in my final year of a Politics degree at Glasgow
University and was reading Nietzsche and studying fascism, the film
fitted right into those theories of religion and also I found parallels
between Lord Summerisle and the charismatic leaders of cults etc. it was
these theories that the likes of Hitler based their style of leadership
etc. I won't bore you with all this crap, but TWM has to be the most
thought provoking and intelligently scripted film I have ever seen. They
should be showing it in schools!
I wish I had known about that showing in Falkirk earlier as I would have
gone.
Public Health Warning:
I am now about to ask the VIDEO QUESTION.
I have only seen the bastardized butchered cut, and would understandably
like to see the full version which acc. to a website offers much more
character and story...
The information I have got so far is out of date. I know it's boring and
you all probably know the answer, but could someone clear it up for me...
has the full 104 version been released as a video in the UK over the last
18 months?
I remember seeing posters for Tower records advertising a release of TWM
on hoardings in the Glasgow Subway, the vid cover was light blue and had
a pic of the blazing wicker man and Britt Ekland's face horizontally
across the bottom. I have been knocking my pan out going round shops
looking for a copy all I can find is the Terror something release in a
dark cover. I'd imagine one of you might have the edition I'm talking
about, if so could you please put me out of my misery and tell me which
version it is.
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
Message: 2
Date: 29 Nov 1999 11:39:38 -0000
From: mark@mpaa.freeserve.co.uk
Subject: re: vids
Forgive me for not replying directly, but I am not reading this from home.
OK, the situation with the video is that there has been no re-release in
the UK. The cover that you mention sounds like the most recent US home
video release. The only copy that has ever been available on video over
here is the butchered 87 m print.
The only times that the 102m print has ever been seen is in the two mid
1980s home video releases in the USA, on the Magnum and Media labels.
These are both n ow deleted, but the Magnum release regularly turns up on
Ebay - http://www.ebay .com
The 102m print is being very elusive, and it appears (correct me if I'm
wrong Allan) that there has only been one copy of this long print in
existence since its release. IRC it was found in one of the proposed
American distributors' offi ce - Roger Corman? I'm not entirely sure.
Regardless, this print isn't actually very good (all horrible and
yellow), but worse than that the Master Tape appears to have gone
walkabouts. This means that the only existing copies may well be the VHS
ones. Which would be very sad.
Luckily, prints of the 95m version *do* exist on videotape, and this is
the versi on that was shown on Moviedrome and Sky Movies Gold. The print
shown on Channel Four is the 87m one. It's worth noting for those who
haven't bothered to record this though that it is an exceptional good
print.
AFAIK, no plans for a re-release in either the cinemas or on video (the
87m video is now technically deleted either side of the pacific, BTW)
Like I said, correct me if I'm wrong, Allan.
Mark
_______________________________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________________________
Message: 3
Date: Mon, 29 Nov 1999 18:48:11 -0000
From: "Mark Coyle" <mark.coyle@btinternet.com>
Subject: Re: Vids
Hi.
> I joined this community thing last night and sent a message
> but it didn't seem to be posted. So I have sent it again.
I got a 102 minute version from Luminus video which claims to be a Warner
Home video (UK) version and has a Warner sleeve with 102 Minutes as the
length. It is the full 102 version (I had a dup of the limited US
release and compared).. The "warner original" is obviously a very good
quality duplicate, I think anyway. That may be your best way to get it.
It came like any other original, full box and colour sleeve, this has The
Wicker Man and Edward Woodward's face on the sleeve. Lumin us still sell
it I think.
> The information I have got so far is out of date. I know it's boring an you
> all probably know the answer, but could someone clear it up for me...
> has the full 104 version been released as a video in the UK over the last
> 18 months?
No. Not to my knowledge.
cheers
mark
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
Message: 4
Date: Mon, 29 Nov 1999 22:08:51 -0000
From: "Mark Aldridge" <mark@mpaa.freeserve.co.uk>
Subject: Re: Vids
I have never heard of this tape, and am totally confused! Who is Luminus
and where did you actually get the tape from - as in country and store?
Mark
a story: the day the end will world
It already happened. I knew it was all over when
Mogel said, "Hey, Jarett, you know, Poppy Z. Brite wrote for cDc." So I
went and looked and oh god, it was a post-mortem love letter to william s
burroughs and I just wanted to bring the whole world crashing down on my
shoulders, because clearly atlas had SHRUGGED! It was all over then all
of it all the pussy and perversion and preternatual paternity suits... It
was all over then. My grandfother sold manhattan to the white man. I am
so hot for it i am so hot for it. Please save me. Pelase please save me
from myself! I CAN"T SAVE OU! I CAN"T EVEN SAVE MYSELF! AH GOD I RETURN
TO CAILTIN'S Mp3 COLLECTION AGAIN! AHHH IN THE MIDDLE AGES THIS WOULD
HAVE BEEN WORSE THAN THE RACK!!! AHHHHHHHH
SEX IS SOMETHING EVERYBODY NEEDS I KNOW ALL THE TIME FELLAS IT'S HARD TO
USE A TROJAN JIMMY CAN'T BREATH EVERYBODY WANTS EVERYBODY LOVES EVERBODY
NEEDS FEEL ALL CLOSED IN
HAhahah if I were the sort of fellow who cared to tell,
what stories there would be... You'd be shocked, but I can't bring myself
to do it, for a variety of reasons, but mostly because I'm too polite.
An angry debate has erupted in France over the increasingly
negative reviews being delivered to French films by local critics. As
reported by a Paris-based correspondent for the London Sunday Times, the
debate reached its peak last week when director Patrice Leconte proposed
that negative reviews be banned until audiences have a chance to make up
their own minds about new releases. In addition, a manifesto published by
a group of French film devotees declared that French critics were
experiencing a "crisis of intelligence and competence" and concluded: "We
have everything to lose if the critics treat us this way, and the
Americans have everything to gain." Critics shot back that if the
filmmakers (who are largely state supported) made watchable films, they
would not be attracting negative reviews. The debate occurred during a
week when Disney's Tarzan set a record for the biggest opening-day take
in French history. Commented the Sunday Times correspondent: "Given the
choice of a Disney movie and a homegrown selection of dreary meditations
on unhappy families and bad sex, French film-goers voted with their
eyeballs."
Bills for the Spring 2000 semester will be mailed beginning December 6,
1999. Please verify that your address is correct by checking on "Albert".
This will ensure the receipt of your spring registration bill.
PLEASE VERIFY THAT YOUR SOUL IS ON TOP OF THE SOUL MENDING GAME /
I WON'T TAKE ANY BLAME / when I write poetry and I need to emphasize
words, I have come upon the amazing idea / I will just capitalize my
words / LIKE THIS / See? / Why did you have to come into MY BEDROOM at
night, FATHER? / Why did you have to PENETRATE ME? / I was your LITTLE
GIRL and you ABUSED me / I don't want to DIE tonight
LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS
I always remember seeing the bumper sticker on the tractor and I
wondered then and I wonder now if hirohito knew that I would drive it
over him as I did. THE
THE ACTUALITY OF YOUR OWN EXISTENCE: the secrets of their lives is
S-E-sssh! FIVE WACKY PROLETARIAT ENGLISH IDIOTS! S-E-echz LIVING THE
BIOSPHERE won't you come around here? Won't you blow your bubbles here?
Saved saved we're all saved from something but was there ever a present
danger in the first place? Lord, I don't know. THE SECRET OF THEIR LIVES
IS S-E-X. I can smell the v.d. in the club tonight. You turn my heart on.
Can't you feel it rhythmically beating to the pounding of my erection?
PULSE PULSE BEAT BEAT I wanna come all over you BABY, and when I CUMMMMM,
my CUMMMM will the the elixir of life that Ponce de Leon and Polly Jean
Harvey sought for all of time. We've all become WILHEM REICH in our young
age.. THE SECRETS OF THEIR LIVES IS S-E- Talk to me about all those men
you were with, and oh, let's not forget all my ladies; now that we've
discussed the pussy and the dick, which always are and always have been
and always will be, now that we've discussed the ORGASM: we're all part
of the club. THE HUMAN CIRCUS OF SEX. Yes, climb aboard. I know you need
to talk to me about getting sucked off, JUST ONCE MORE; I know you need
to tell me about how he fucks like a pimp, AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. The
monotony of lust never ends... We keep it real. REAL STUPID. THE SECRET
OF THEIR LIVES IS S-E- hex. How many more times, God? How many more times
do I have to be in on the joke? The joke that is the merging of flesh
into some Aristophanic being. THE JOKE OF WHICH I'M ALWAYS THE PUNCH
LINE. I wish I could be a little less sensitive to the shit, but I can't.
The worst is how /boring/ it really is. I could see suffr'ing through it
all if it was interesting, if it was somehow funny, or anything, but it
isn't. It's over and done with. The joke has ceased to be amusing. You
can't impress or shock. I was fucking Grecian boys before you were a mote
in God's eye, and I was red socking their /legs/. What? Don't you get it?
Probably not.
You're all amateurs. Remember that the next time you go to talk to
me about your multitudinous orgasms. You're bad at sex; you're an
amateur. And all the children cried on blackberry lane.
In nomine Patres, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.
"HAHAHAH REMEMBER WHEN YOU FUCKED THAT GIRL?"
'HAHAHAHA OH NO MAN HAHAHAH NO DON'T SAY THAT! NOT IN FRONT OF PEOPLE!"
"HAHAHAH REMEMBER HOW YOU SAID HER PUSSY WAS SHAPED LIKE A..."
"NO!!!!!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA MAN WHY NOT?"
"HAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA CUZ MAN I DON'T WANT HER TO KNOW MAN! HAHAHAHA DON'T
SAY IT FRONT OF HER MAN! AHHAHAAH! BABY UH DON'T PAY ATTENTION BABY!
HAHAHAH IT'S JUST YOU KNOW HAHAHA A SEX STORY! AHAHHAAH OH MY GOD SEX!!!
1HAHAHA IT'S FO FUNNY !!! JESUS CHRIST!!! MY DICK WAS IN HER MOUTh!!!
HAHAHAHAH OH MY GOD, BABY, MY DICK HAS BEEN IN YOUR MOUTH! HAHAHAHHAHAAH
OH SHIT IT'S SO FUNNY AHAHAHAHAH OH GOD I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING HAHAHAHAHA
OH FUCK IT'S SEX HAHAHAHAHAHAHA OH SHIT SEX AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA SEX
HAHAHAHAHAHHAHA SEX AHAHAHAHAHHAHA SEX AHAHAHAHAHHAHA VAMPRIE BAT BITE
SEX AHHAHAHAHAHAHA OH JESUS LORD IN HEAVEN ABOVE AHAHAHHAHAH SEX AHAHHAAHHA
ORAL SEX AHHAHAHAHAHA DICK SUCKING HAHAHAHAHA PUSSY EASTING HAHAHAHAHAH
AMY SEXUAL EXPERIENCE IS THE VALIDATION FO THE FACT THAT I HAVE /SEEN/
THE DARK UNDERCURRENT OF LIFE HAHAHAHAHAHA OH GOD HAHAHHAHAHAHA I CAN'T
STOP LAUGHING AHAHAHHA IT'S A PERFECT DAY.... FOR SEX!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA
CAN'T YOU HEAR MY DRUM MACHINES BEATING TO THE RHYTHM OF SEX?
AHHAHAHAHAHAHA OH GOD AND THEN I CAME HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! OH GOD!!!
HAHAHAHAHA SEX!11! HAHAHAHAHA JESUS CHRIST SEX!!11 AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAH OH
LORD IT'S SEX IT'S SEX CAN'T STOP LAUGHING ABOUT SEX!!! HAHAHAH ALOOOK!
!!! IT'S SO SCANDALOUS THAT I SAID SEX!!! HAHAHAHA THAT'S FUNNY TOO!!1!
WOW THE WHOLE HUMAN REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM IS THE FUNNIEST JOKE I EVER
HEARD!! HAHAHAHA! PLUS IT MANES I CAN VALIDATE MY EXISTENCE LIKE A PARKING
STAMPED TICKET HAHAHAHAHAHA OH LORD HAHAHAHHAHA I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING
ABOUT SEX!!!! I'M LIKE ROBERT PLANT!! !I CAN'T STOP TALKING ABOUT LOVE!11
HAHAHAHAHAHA OH GOD SEXXXX!!1 I GOT TO REGULATE!!!! AHHAHAHA REGULATE MY
TALKING ABOUT SEX!!!! OH GOD HOW CAN I BE DOING THIS IN FRONT OF MY
GIRLFRIEND!!! HAHAHAHA IT GIVES ME THE EXCUSE TO WAX EMBARRASSED!!!
HAHAHAH JESUS SEX!!!! AHHAHAHAHA OH LORD!!!! HAHAHAHS EX!!! AHAHHA EX!!1!
SEX IS AWESOME!!11 HAHAHAH DAMN IT'S SO GOOD!!!! SEX!!!! WOW!!!! AHAHHAHA
SEX!!!! WOW!!! AHHAHAHHAHAHHA EVEN THOUGH PEOPLE HAVE BEEN HAVING SEX FOR
YEARS NA DYEAR AND YEARS AND HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF YEARS AND THERE ARE
RECORDS OF SEXUALITY ACTIVITY AS FAR BACK AS HUMAN HISTORY GOES I'LL
CONTINUE TO SPEAK OF SEX AS IF IT'S SOME NOVELTY!!1 AHAHHA OH MY GOD IT'S
SO NOVEl!!! HAHAHAHAH JESU CHRISTO!!! IT'S THE LATEST THING!!1! YES!!1
SEX!!! IT'S CALLED THE RADIOACTIVE FLESH!!!! IT'S THE LATEST AND THE
LAST!! !HAHAHAH OH LORD SEX!!1! HAHAHAHAH!!1 GOD I CAN'T STOP TALKING
AOBUT SEX!!1 HAHAHAHAHA WHERE ARE THE GIRLS THEY NEED TO /CUM/ SERVICE
ME!!! HAHAHAHA LOOK!!! SEXUAL DOUBLE ENTENDRE!!!! I'M JAMES BOND!!!
HAHAHAHA HE HAD A LOT OF SEX WITH A LOT OF HOT GIRLS!!! HAHAHA SEAN
CONNERY HAD SEX!!! HAHAHA ROGER MOORE HAD SEX!!1 HAAAHAHAH TIMOTHY DALTON
HAD SEX!!!! HAQHAHAHAA PIERCE BROSNAN HAD SEX!!!! AHHAH DENISE RICHARDS
MADE OUT WITH NEVE CAMPBELL HAHAHA!11 OH JESUS CHRIST SEX!!1 HAHAHA WE'RE
ALL A BIG HUMAN FAMILY AND THE TIE THAT BINDS IS THE JOKE THAT IS SEX!!1
HAHAHA OH LORD SEXXXXX AHHAHAHA I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING JAHAHAHAHAHA SEX!11
ORAL SEX!11 ANAL SEX!1 1GIVIGN IT UP AND LOVING IT AHAHHAHAHA OH SEX SEX
SESX SE SX SE S XEX EJCJJRSJF VAMPIRE BAT BITE SEX SEX SEX SEX SEX!!1
HAHAHA JESUS OH LORD!!! HAHAHA I'D GIVE UP MY WHOLE LIFE FOR SEX!!!! FOR
JUST A GOOD SCREW I'D GIVE IT ALL AWAY!!! HAHAHA AND IT' BE FUNNY, TOO,
BECAUSE I'D BE HAVIGN _sex_ from a lot of people AHHAHAHAHAHAHAH SEX!!!
OH MAN!!! SEXXX AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ;) AHAHAHAH SEX ;) LOOK! I'M WINKING CUZ
I'M TALKING ABOUT SEX!!! AHAHHAHAHA OH GOD!!!!!! SEX!!!!! YEAH
MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!!! SEX!!!!!! ;) ;) ;) woOOOOOOOO I LOVE ME SOME
SEXXXXXXXXXX SEX IS SOMETHING THAT EVERYBODY WANTS EVERYBODY LOVES AND
EVERYBODY NEEDS AHAHAHHA SEEEEXXXXXXXXXX YEAH I LOVE SEX!!!!"
memoirs of a geisha: or, the pursuit of gravity in literature
is the writer's ability to maturely relate to
the topics of SEX and DEATH
Since I've blown number 1, let's how I can do with 2, eh?
shit, well, damn, no one's really died too tragically on me,
except my aunt, but you know, that's deeply HIDDEN IN THE UNDERCURRENT OF
REALITY WHICH ONLY MY HISTRIONIC EMOTIONAL STATE CAN TAP INTO... but uh,
maybe I can pretend that I'm torn up inside over the suicide of this kid
Butthead. He was a modem guy and he knew teletype and now he's dead. He's
DEAD! It feels like a chunk of my heart is missing! A piece of my soul
evanesced into another world... How can I go on without you, Mark?
Without your butthead looking face and sounding voice? Without watching
you fuck retards on acid in the back of a cripple's van? Without her
telling me I'm a werewolf? It's a perfect day to kill yourself! God why?
I heard my sister's cry from the other room, why'd you have to pussy out?
Life could have gotten better! I would have helped you make it better but
you had to die! Oh and now it sucks for me, but I'm not going to be a
coward like you were, I'm not going to pussy out of life; I'm going to
stick it out. I'm going to brave it. I'm going to kick the world in the
ass just to show you up. You miserable bastard, why'd you have to leave
me alone? You're dead and gone and gone and dead, and I'm here by myself
wondering how I go on without you. Listen to the wind blow, I'm sad sad
without you and I miss the sounds of your 808 on the stereo. It doesn't
matter that I met you probably 4 times in my life, no, because I KNEW YOU
and you KNEW ME as soon as we met. Our minds in a perfect syncopation of
thought and being; you knew as well as I did that I would prostitute the
finer moments of my life for the sake of a joke or for a vainglorious
attempt at art, you knew all my secrets, and I knew all of yours! You
were the best friend I didn't need to speak to, because we were so close
that all of our thoughts and deeds were like the respective other's. OH
GOD, MARK "BUTT HEAD" SCHULZ, you jewish fellow, how ever am I to go on
without you? My cat's meowing it and reminds me of you. The city is
bleeding and it reminds me of you. The night is full of scents and it
reminds me of you. Everything is you and everything was you, and you are
dead and life is empty. LIFE IS EMPTY. It shall be hard for me to kick
against the pricks. I'm trapped here, but I'm not going to give you the
pleasure, hell no, I'm not going to let you see me QUIT like you did. I'm
not a coward like you, MARK "BUTT HEAD" SCHULZ, no, I'm a real person.
I'm not a hero and I'm not a brave person, but I can't do what you did.
END OF EULOGY FOR BUTT HEAD
Well, how was that? Did I make the grade? Ain't I a woman? AM I
REALLY REAL? Is my literary attempt 1/2 of the way towards writing
maturity? Got lucky, got lucky in time; will you beat me with a whip?
yeah yeah sexual pleasure hahahahahah SEX!!!!!! from the pain others
inflict sexual pleasure from inflicting pain; you're either one or the
other but never both. Never both. I need to see you bleed before I can
get off. It's the blood that makes life. FOR THE BLOOD IS THE LIFE. It's
a perfect day to beat your lover. the things i could tell you about her
blood red ass.
ain't it shame to have leadbelly stab his manager on a sunday?
Ain't it a shame to beat your wife on a sunday? When you got MONDAY,
TUESDAY, WEDNESDAY, THURSDAY, FRIDAY AND Sat-ur-hamlet written by THOMAS
KYD who wrote the spanish tragedy, a play I've seen TWICE in less than a
week. Isn't that crazy? I wish I lived in England, cuz I'd just go see
the summer season of the RSC every summer. and fuck, it would rock.
The Ur-Hamlet was entitled _HAMLET, REVENGE!_
this is historical fact
The Ur-Jarett was called "JAROD".
This is personal fact
Jarod is a pretender, a very intelligent person with the ability
to slide into somebody else's personality. For that purpose, he has been
taken from his family as a child in order to work for a secret agency
called The Centre. But recently, he escaped. Jarod's new mission in life
is to help people in need with his gift, and to find out what really
happened to his allegedly dead parents. Only, Miss Parker and her team
are out to get him...
OUT TO GET HIM PREGNANT
Jarod, a boy genius with a special gift for pretending, was
kidnaped and held prisoner by a corporation that used him as a human
simulator in their clandestine research. Escaping from The Centre more
than 30 years later, Jarod now searches for clues to his true identity
and family. He also uses his ability to quickly become an expert at
anything to right wrongs and exact revenge on the wicked. All the while,
Centre operatives led by Miss Parker work relentlessly to capture Jarod,
and return him to The Centre.
dont ask me to keep
your mother chained
to the radiator
she keeps bothering
me rattling a chain
against the metal
"But Sam," I, so called Jarett, said, "why would I want to inflict pain
on her? I'm don't want to hurt her. I love her."
"You're a sadist, Jarett."
"I've always considered my self a secular humanist."
"A prime example of your sadism."
the ol marky-mark de sade himself was a corpulent piece of shit
who didn't really practice what he preached, but thankfully popular myth
and urban legend has transformed him into a startling sexual deviant,
longing for the pines, giving us the hand jobs we always wanted; AAND OH
HE WANTED THE PAIN but the pain was hidden in the river encased in a
golden ring and the Hobbit thing fished it out, and we know what its gots
in its pockets, don't we my precious?
STRIKE DOWN THE RIDERS OF ROHAN AND BURN THE BRIDGES OF MORIA FOR
IT IS I, GANDALF THE WHITE, RISEN FROM THE DEAD LIKE A CHRIST ON THE
THIRD DAY. LIKE CHRIST HIMSELF, I AM CHANGED; NO LONGER ARE MY ROBES
GREY. I AM THE PENULTIMATE POWER. THERE IS BUT one HIGHER THAN I. THAT
FLESH MAN THEY CALLED KOBEK. HIDDEN IN THE ENCYSTED LIFE OF HIS OWN SELF
ONE RING TO BIND HI MATT A.K.A. STYXXXXX, I THOUGHT I'D PUT A SHOUT OUT
RIGHT HERE, A SHOUT OUT ABOUT dragonlance. Fucking Raistlin Darfler,
always changing her robes and going EVIL. yeah. Getting upset when I
storm the closet and make her have CHAOTIC EVIL sex. It used to be
NEUTRAL CHAOTIC, but now, hell, now it's CHAOTIC EVIL.
FIND THE ORBSSSS THE ORBBSSS THE ORBBSSSS
AND THE FUCKIN' LANCES
hahahha
Oberlin, the LORD OF HELMSDEEP
hahaha
or just a college in Ohio?
?!/1?!
IS THIS DESIRE OR AM I JUST LOST IN THE HEART? It's a clogged
heart full of death and despair... the egyptian children are here... They
steal a camera from an american tourist... I look at him with a mixture
of pity and loathing; I don't wish such a thing to fall on him, but then
I think it's his own fault for being so careless. I see his face and it
is a smear of hurt and pain, and I understand he is feeling, and my
loathing fades away, now I only have pity. I offer him my camera but he
rejects it. He tells me the camera was a present from his mother. I know
immediately he secretly was in love with her. Nothing I do can heal this
wound. He is as sedentary as the Chinese, the Chinois, who said to me, as
I walked along the Cliffs of Moher, "It's so beautiful." I almost died
that day. The Chinois would have been the last to see me alive. I saved
myself at the last moment. Extending my hands behind me and catching my
body as it went over the rocks. I was dead but then I was not.
We came here for you once, when you died. But this wasn't here and
that wasn't you.
word up to the manthing.
Well, golly gosh geee, Sarge, it sure has been a long time since I
done wrote something 'bout yonder TELETYPE. "Ah, so it has." Should I
drop and give you twenty? "How about you just give me some of that ol'
black magic?" You want I should write me another teletype story? "Please
do, I long for it. I long for it so. I need it like a junkie needs junk."
That bad, huh, sarge? "Yes, private, yes." Well, guess I can't deny my
C.O. anything. "NOT UNDER THE MILITARY CODE OF CONDUCT." Aren't there any
exceptions?
"No."
TELETYPE, REINCARNATE! Rise from your grave!
But I can not bring back an exhausted idea. All of his life force
is gone. Let me put the carcass in the orgone accumulator and see what
will come of it. In you go, into the oven, into the accumulator, there
fatty, there... Do not cry... soon you will be ALIVE!
____
| .. | - HELLO I AM MICROSOFT BOB WELCOME TO YOUR NEW HOME, THE NINTH
| \/ | CIRCLE OF HELL. PLEASE CLICK ON BRUTUS GRINDING IN SATAN'S
---- JAWS TO KNOW YOUR PITIFUL FATE. IGNORE THE SCREAMS OF JUDAS,
SOON THEY WILL BE AS SOOTHING MUSIC TO YOUR EARS. SOOTHING
LIKE A STICK OF BUTTER IN MARIA SCHNEIDER'S ASS. SOOTHING
LIKE ON ORANGE JULIUS. EAT THE BANNANA, YOU SICK FUCKING
ANIMAL. DO YOU THINK LIFE IS EASY FOR ANYONE? DO YOU THINK
THE FACT YOU ARE MISERABLE ENTITLES YOU TO WHINE ANYMORE
THAN ANYONE ELSE? THE SECRET TO THEIR LIVES IS S-E-(x)!
MISERABLE WORLD, I CURSE THEE! I CURSE ALL OF THEE AT THE
GRANGE AND ALL OF THEE AT WUTHERING HEIGHTS WHO HAVE TAKEN
MY DEAR CATHERINE FROM ME! I CURSE HER TO HAUNT ME UNTIL MY
DEATH! I CURSE I CURSE I CURSE! AH CATHERINE WHEN WILL YOU
RETURN TO ME? SHALL I JOIN YOU IN DEATH AS A GHOST? HOW THE
CHILDREN REMIND ME OF YOU... I SEE YOU IN CATHY AND I SEE YOU
IN HARETON... PLEASE COME TO ME, DEAR CATHERINE, IT IS
MICROSOFT BOB, WHO IS AS MUCH YOU AS HE IS HIMSELF, AND I
CALL YOU FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE...
Speaking of calling people from behind the grave, let me see how
the orgones are accumulating around the corpse of teletype. shall he be
re-animated? Shall I play herbert west? I shall! I look into the
accumulator, I see the signs of life stirring, but still, teletype is not
alive... The concept has been beaten and beaten and beaten over and over
again like Stephanie Seymor... It will require more time in the orgone
accumulator... Soon, soon he will rise from his grave...
Extract from Mina Harker's Journal
June 9th. I still have no word from my dear Jonathan. I hope that
he is fairing well in Transylvania, and will write soon. Sweet Lucy has
not yet given up her sleep walking. Only last night I had to prevent her
from perambulating to our favorite sitting spot. I looked at her face and
I saw that she was totally in sleep. The poor thing was completely
unaware of what she was doing! I locked the doors and windows to our room
and put her back in bed. I dare not tell her mother, for fear it will
worsen the woman. She already has confessed to me that her time in this
world is brief, and I would not be the one whose tongue sent her
spiraling into God's arms, blessed though they be. Nothing new to report
otherwise. I do hope Jonathan will write soon!
<important> drew's logic was that once you started dating, you just kind
of kissed a lot and talked about kissing, or something
<soybean> i wrote t-files while i was with drew
<m0gel> before the boys started trying to get all up in your shit
<soybean> hahhaha that sounds accurate, phil.
First we must understand that the NOSFERATU, the vampyr, in the
doorway shining so bright is FOREMOST a creature of the NIGHT! He is a
killer! He is to KILL as we are to whine! It is the very essence of his
nature!
Everybody knows, everyboy know, you only live a day, but it's
brilliant anyway.... It's brilliant anyway... ANYWAY, I'm not saying that
when I step up the mike I'm the best, just that I'm brilliant. Fuck, if
you could see my cat you'd caterwaul like Robert Plant... I can't stop
talking about love! The secrets of their lives is S-E-f(x)! I saw you
walk between all the people out making the scene... Ooooooooooh don't go
to far, stay who you are... I'm lost in that sea of sorrowful sundays,
there is a funeral procession, in the coffin is the body of Edgar Poe, he
looks at me as if it was I who killed him. Perhaps it was. I am in
Washington Square park, there is heroin in my body, I hallucinate the
ghosts of those buried beneath me and those who were hung on these trees;
the lights seem as though lit by gas. What is this world imposed over me?
I'm on a stage... atheists and christians debating... I point out
something ridiculous in the athiests' reasoning, I rush the stage, I
return to my seat, a priest turns to me and says "GOOD JOB". I am
revolted by his God. By his Christ. The only king left is King Kobek and
he is busy mentally undressing Fay Wray Darfler, peeling her clothes like
a banana... You're no good, you're no good, can't you tell that it's well
understood?
Cntrl-G is how I get my friends' attention. Other people rely on
good characters and actually interesting personalities. I just make
computers beep. PITY ME FOR I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF THE WORD PITEOUS...
I'm an urchin lost in Oxford in 1350, the plague has hit, and it's the
little ice age. Won't you do something to save me?
Can anyone save me???? I CAN'T SAVE YOUUUUUuu I CAN BARELY SAVE
MYSELF... Ah god, I am suffering under Caitlin's mp3 collection once
more! It's burned into my drug filled brain; forever and a day, all 22
songs will haunt me... FOREVER AND A DAY! I can not name them all. All of
them are unnameable... SWOOSH by Dan Bern... Some crap by Ani DiFranco...
some guilty pleasure by Joan Osbourne... MEN WITH HATS and their
perennial 80s hit... THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS with "BIRD HOUSE IN YOUR SOUL"
ABOUT 5 SONGS BY STABBING WESTWARD, like Chapter 12, in which it /is/
revealed that I CAN'T SAVE YOU I CAN'T EVEN SAVE MYSELF... Pavement's
"SPIT ON A STRANGER"... oh god, deliver me from those with crappy
taste...
_______________________________________
| INSIDE THIS BOX YOU WILL FIND LOVE |
| INSIDE THIS BOX YOUR GIRL WILL NOT |
| DUMP YOU INSIDE THIS BOX I LOVE AND |
| ACCEPT YOU INSIDE THIS BOX YOUR FLAWS |
| ARE ASSETS INSIDE THIS BOX NO ONE IS |
| BETTER THAN YOU INSIDE THIS BOX YOU |
| DON'T NEED TO BE A GIRL AND ALL GIRL |
| SELF LOATHING AND SELF HATRED DOES |
| NOT EXIST INSIDE THIS BOX YOU DON'T |
| HAVE TO ABUSE YOURSELF OR DATE PEOPLE |
| YOU HATE INSIDE THIS BOX IS TRUE LOVE |
|_______________________________________|
But you don't live inside /this/ box. You live in the other one.
Sweet little lady, don't you get crazy
Bring it back home to me
Woman little standing, dreaming to forget him
bring it back home to me
When? Why wonder? Brown-eyed stunner
Come on, bring it back home to me
Kiss a littlen dozen, fishing for your lover,
won't you bring it back home to me?
She looks like heroin, she kills the pain
Call it what you want to call it,
call it danger honey, you said, "gimme that nicotine"
Never wanna hold you, never wanna scold you,
I bet she's taking away from me
Never will command you or ever reprimand you,
when you bring it back home to me
Can't take candy from a baby,
when your baby gives it up for free
She just puts around being lazy,
but still she brings her lovin' to me
Don't need nothing to save me,
save for a piece of your luxury
Lock the door, but you'll never cage me,
I'll tell you just how it's gonna be
I call your lover in the morning,
when you have your cup of tea
You never give me your warning,
so you better get ready for me
Guess who's coming over,
oh you think that's such a surprise
why can't you just write what you feeL? Why such labrythineeeee
ways? AYS AYS AYS DAYS HAYS KILLS YES MURDER MOST FOUL BALL NO CARLTON
FISK, IT'S A HOME RUN I SAW IT BOUNCE OFF THE POLE YES YES RED SOX WIN
GAME SIX BUT THEY LOSE GAME SEVEN; EVERY TIME SINCE 1918; SUFFER BOSTON,
sUFFRE RHODE ISLAND SUFFER FANDOM
A brief biographical sketch of the one known as Jarett Kobek,
gentleman, explorer, amateur scientist,
deep space probe, vampire, umpire,
statesman, 21st chromosone triplet,
lover, beloved, burned, bored,
tarred and feathered
Born in Warwick, Rhode Island on February 7th, 1978, during the
GREAT BLIZZARD. His mother required the national guard to dig her out of
her brother's house. Got to the hospital, dropped the kid. And so it came
to pass that Jarett was born and delivered in this modern world.
and so it came to pass that you bought an illusion
and put it on the wall
Teletype? Teletype? Can you hear me? I believe he is starting to
stir, but still he is not strong with the orgone, that mythical power
through which all life is transmitted. The orgone! The orgone! Ah god,
the orgone! They burned you alive for it, Wilhem, but we shall overcome
and teletype SHALL live again.
the day I broke up with my boyfriend,
by little Jenn,
Age 13
My boyfriend Jim and I broke up after a few months of going out.
It was very sad. He is a straight A student and I am a straight A student
and we both were attracted to each other as soon as our eyes met in AP
English. I have known Jim for a long time but I did not realize I liked
him in that special way until our eyes met in AP English. Then I began to
start feeling for him.
Our time together sure was rough. It is hard to maintain a
relationship with the pressures of being smart students. Smart students
take difficult courses with a lot of homework. The honors classes can
take it out of you. Life is hard. Still, we managed to see each other
often, and sometimes we would have parties at Jim's house for us and the
other honors students. Jim's dad is the super intendant of schools and he
is a good guy.
Sometimes during the parties Jim and I would go into the special
closest where the action would get hot and heavy. I never took off any of
my clothes and neither did he, but they were very intense experiences
unlike anything I have ever felt. I did not think about sex and neither
did Jim but maybe if things had gone on longer we would have had it. I am
curious about sex. None of my friends have had it but I am curious about
it. It seems like it could be a great thing.
Jim and I broke up last week after going for 2 months. It was very
sad. I don't remember who broke up with who, but in the end, we were not
together. Life is a difficult thing in many situations. I am glad I did
not take off any of my clothes. I hope Jim didn't break up with me
because I am ugly. I hope he didn't break up with me because I didn't
take off any of my clothes. I hope he didn't break up with me to date
Natalie.
TARA STEVENSON, YOU STUPID RITA HAYWORTH IN _GILDA_ LOOKIN' DEGENERATE
SINGER FOR RHODE ISLAND BAND MIXLPLYX, IT'S YOUR TIME TO SHINE; WHY DON'T
YOU TELL ME SOMETHING DOOOOOOOOPE?
"Sam, he gave me orgasm," she said.
Now, I like porn as much as the next guy, but shit, there isn't
anything like INTERRACIAL porn. Boy, when I seem some big black stud
just pounding his manthing away into a white bitch's pussie, boy, well, I
don think I've ever come so hard. Those guys got dicks like TREE TRUNKS
and they're planting them in the forest CAUCASIA. Yeah, they're taking
revenge NAT TURNER style out on the bitches' cunts, they're givin' them
the what for and the whodunnit! YEAH! Ain't nothing like seeing a spade
pork a white girl.
TRI ANGULATION OF FIRE:
________
| |
| |
| |
| |
| | ___ / \
| | _|___|_ / \
-------- ( ) ( ) / \
(TEXAS BOOK (MOTORCADE) (GRASSY KNOLL)
DEPOSITORY)
( )
--\ /--
/ \
/ 8 \
__/ \__
(THIRD GUN-MAN DOWN THE STREET)
Yes, See? One man firing a load at Jackie Kennedy's warm white
bitch cunt wouldn't do shit, which is why Lee "Nigger Dick" Harvery
Oswald was not the lone wanker that day. Sure, he was angled perfectly to
spatter his nigger cum on the Kennedys, and in particular, Jackie's sweet
tasting white bitch pussy, but to ensure J. Edgar Hoover's homo-erotic
fantasy of seeing three black studs with 18" dicks jerking it onto the
first lady's pussy, two other men were installed. That way her white girl
tang could not avoid the cum. She would get it INSIDE and on the outside,
and with luck become pregnant with a spade baby; then, after she had the
obvious abortion, the medical documents would be placed inside one of the
FBI's famous "suicide file" and sent to JFK & Jackie in the event they
ever tried to take on the FBI's authority, and specifically that of famed
transvestite and homosexual, J. Edgar Hoover. The other two gunmen are
not known, but are rumored to be Nigger Lips McSpade, and Strokin' Donkey
Dong Jones.
tribute to dean the cat:
ecstasy in onyx
meow. meow. meow. FOOD? meow. meow. PET ME. meow. meow. meow. PULL
THE STRING. meow. meow. PULL THE STRING. meow meow. FOOD? meow. PET ME.
meow meow meowowwwwwwooooowwwww. PET ME. TOUCH ME. FEEL ME.HEAR ME. sEE
ME. meow.
the world the end will day
and behold, I did eat the book, and it was bitter in my belly.
what auto-erotic cannibalistic sexual asphyication is this?
[1 : dylan] i don't even know what the lie is.
[1 : dylan] i've hidden it so deeply.
[1 : dylan] or convinced myself so well of..
[1 : dylan] or something..
[1 : dWi] well, maybe you could use some help to get down in there!
[1 : dWi] deep stuff is a real pain in the ass
[1 : dWi] cause there's no-one in yr life you can bounce it off of
[1 : dWi] because they have their own perception of you, and you don't
want them to think you're crazy, etc.
[1 : dWi] which is what shrinks are for!
[1 : dylan] great.
[1 : dylan] the fucking ethernet cable for my laptop is fucked.
[1 : dWi] you can figure this stuff out
[1 : dylan] so i cannot get that t-file on it.
[1 : dylan] i'm going to cry.
[1 : dWi] go ahead and cry.. =) you'll probably feel better
[1 : dylan] i can't.
[1 : dylan] every time i almost do, i don't.
[1 : dWi] yeah, I was that way for a while
[1 : dWi] that gets better too
[1 : dWi] it has to do with release mechanism
[1 : dWi] try screaming
[1 : dWi] seriously
go on, crawl out your window! You know that I need you to. I guess
I should talk a little bit about Bob Dylan and what he means to me. Well,
Bob Dylan, above all else, was a great bullshit artist. And I think
that's what I find most profound in his early work. The enormous levels
of bullshit and jokes and humor. It's FUNNY, you know? Well, except for
TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGING, which is the only really bad album from the
60s. A prefiguring of things to come. I mean, sure, he could be profound
and unbelievably poetic, but at heart, all Bob Dylan ever wanted to be
was a funny hillbilly singing songs about going down to the well and
eating beneath the mill and fishing and women cooking up shortening
bread.
And that's what bob dylan means to me.
[1 : dWi] I'm serious
[1 : dWi] get your jacket
[1 : dylan] and some nice fuzzy slippers.
[1 : dWi] go into the bathroom
[1 : dWi] bunch it up around your mouth
[1 : dWi] and scream till you don't feel like screaming anymore.
[1 : ldsa] > YOUR PAWN BROKER ROARED AND AH SO SO DID THE LAND LORD
[1 : dylan] i don't have the energy to scream.
[1 : ldsa] YOUR PAWN BROKER ROARED AND AH SO SO DID THE LAND LORD
[1 : dWi] dylan : that's the depression tricking you
[1 : dylan] i cannot
[1 : dWi] depression makes it feel like you don't have the energy to do
anything
[1 : dWi] but you're just so depressed
[1 : dWi] cause stuff is just weighing super heavy on yr heart
[1 : dylan] like, i have systematically sabatoged my entire life.
[1 : dylan] over the last year.
[1 : dylan] everything that was dear to me.
[1 : dylan] i have distanced myself from.
and yes, you, you just sit around and ask for ashtrays, can't you reach?
I have tried to write words into a world. I may have failed. May
the gods forgive me. May the ones I love forgive me. It was enough to
create the entire world in a single microcosmic sentence, but I am a
failure, and I can not even recreate her heart, so it will take me a
longer time, a longer time, and larger amount of space to REMAKE life
into words. Why are your fingers going up my sleeve? Can you ever forgive
what I'm attempting? Will any ever see it? How many can traverse the way
down here? I don't know... YOU KNOW IF YOU DIDN'T WANT TO BE WITH ME, YOU
DIDN'T HAVE TO STAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY
well
it's true I can't recall San Francisco at all
I can't even remember EL PASO, HOOOOONEEEYYYYYYY
fair you well boys fair you well, I'm going back to Baltimore.
I got more panchitos than a mexican; I got slick rivers like sex
lives; I stab bootlegging record executives like JAY ZEE! I slash tires
like a j.d. I break beats on the camel's hump. I SAW YOU GO BETWEEN ALL
THE PEOPLE OUT MAKING THE SCENE!
break break your bones your heart it can all be broken with the
twist of bone or the twist of a word. Everything you were is destroyed
and pulled down like the temple in a.d. 70, everything you ever knew is
GONE. All the people you ever loved are dead, all the friends you ever
had are missing. What can you do? The people around you are shades from
Hell, trying to drink the blood of a lamb, and when they do finally talk
to you, they're hollow shells of humanity; How did you get here? How did
you end up in this horrible fucking place? Where is there so much Danzig
on the stereo? Could it be any worse? Could you be stuck in some texas
border town looking down the sight of a gun at the greenbacks crossing
over? Imagining picking them off, one by one, the women and children,
their backs exploding in a fading glory of gore, and you'd be the
arbitrator of life and death, for that slight moment you could be a God,
but what of? Cheap trinkets and token emotions. You've given into your
optimus prime evil side; now your autobot matrix is korupt and black; you
actually bought into the lie everyone's always been telling you: That
there is substance and there is meaning in the world. You believe it so
much; there's gotta be a purpose; and then, when you look at your own
life and can not help but feel the barren emptiness of the moors, you die
a horrible little death inside. There's no substance here and there's no
meaning here. SO YOU GIVE IN YOU SORRY SON A BITCH. YOU GIVE IN! And then
your whole life became a menagerie of emotional nonsense, and you
actually start to find it acceptable to sit around being miserable and
depressed. You drink your depression like water from a glass. MMMMM, it's
good; and then you let it motivate you and you start existing FROM IT; It
becomes the center and the driving force in the lack of meaning and the
removal of substance... Sucker.
A cold hard man of science brings me a glass of methadone, "Drink
of this and live forever," he tells me. What can I do but oblige?
Oh yeah, let me give you some of that real life primordial
realism SHIT. Let me give you some of that nicker-bocker nigger-kicking
REAL LIFE In your face, gonna make you gag till you puke, bitch slipping,
duck training, baby baby tregar inducing, stuff you never wanted to see,
pastiche writing, Did you know I cry? I do. Not an absurd amount, but
enough to substantially qualify me as someone who does, indeed, cry.
That's as far as I'm going tonight. I cry. The end. Actually, my tears
have overcome my intent; I'm not going to write you no primordial realism
today, no sir, not I. I've given that shit up. It's bad for the soul and
it's bad for other peoples' hearts. I'm not out to hurt anything anymore.
Now I just want to flow like the river and Sam Cooke's jive. It's very
Zen, except I don't know anything about Zen, so I can't even come close
to be qualifying what is and what is not Zen. AND ISN'T THAT THE ULTIMATE
STATE OF ZEN?
I hear something from the orgone accumulator, I hear the cooking sounds
of frying synapses:
It speaks:
<meenk> tourists probably wouldn't take well to my brand of depravity
but ah
That is all it says for now. still it is dormant! Will my lovely teletype
and meenk file never come to life? WILL IT NEVER LIVE? GOD, WILL IT NEVER
LIVE?
SING ME THE EPIC SLAVE SONG, GLENN DANZIG, SING ME THAT SPIRITUAL CALLED:
"LONG WAY BACK FROM HELL":
Sold into slavery down in New Orleans
Goddess
Of the bayou light
Black dog's head on the killing bed
Severed
And left to bleed
There on fire
In the corner of the world
There in misery
There on fire
In the corner of the world
Left for God to see
Do you want to take a life
Do you want to cross that line
Cause it's a long way back from Hell
And you don't want to go with me
Poison father of the human race
God
Of the tainted blood
Malevolence
Sneaking up the spine of the world
Ready for the bastard son
There on fire
In the veins of man
There in misery
There on fire
In the veins of man
Left for to see
Do you want to take a life
Do you want to cross that line
Cause it's a long way back from Hell
And you don't want to go with me
See the three alarm fire, see the dog heat. SHE LICK HER LIPS WITH
A PASSION. in the third degree. Sometimes I cry. Yes, I cry, not a lot,
but enough to qualify me as someone who does, in fact, cry. Yes,
sometimes I weep, not a lot, but enough to qualify me as someone who
does, in fact, weep bloody tears. Salty with the blood of the undead. I
never wanna stand ya or ever reprimand ya. Dead waters rise higher than
your mind! Kreid is a feather in your cap.
WORD WORD WORD PLAY IS NOT TANTAMOUNT TO FOREPLAY BUT MY GOD IF TELLING
GIRLS YOU WANTED TO SLEEP WITH THEM SOMEHOW GOT YOU TO ACTUALLY SLEEP
WITH THEM I'D BE JOINING DON JUAN IN HELL AIN'T I JARETT "GIVE 'EM A
SPEECH FIRST" KOBEK? HELL YEAH "OH BABY, YOU KNOW, I BEEN SEEING YOU
'ROUND WE BEEN SPENDING A LOT OF TIME TOGETHER BUT UH I DON'T WANNA BE
ONE OF THEM GUYS THAT JUST SLOBBERS ALL OVER YOU I RESPECT YOU TOO MUCH
BABY SO I WAS HOPING THAT MAYBE WE COULD TAKE OUR FRIENDSHIP TO THE NEXT
LEVEL BABY AND GET DOWN" AND THEN OF COURSE, THE SIXTH MOVEMENT BRINGS
RETURN: "OH JARETT I CAN'T DO THAT WITH >YOU<!!!!! YOU'RE TOO GOOD OF A
FRIEND!!! I END UP HATING THE PEOPLE I DATE!!! I NEED TO DATE OBNOXIOUS
ARROGANT JERKS!!! I DON'T WANT TO RUIN WHAT WE HAVE WITH CHEAP SEXXX!!!"
Hey kids, it's your ol' pal AIDS here again! I know you've been
missing that voice of reason in the storm, so I figured I'd come down
from my mountain resort and give you some TRUTH. Yeah, some spiritual
sustenance in these dark times. These times where the darkies are the
darkies and the honkies are the honkies, and ain't NO MOTHERFUCKER CAN
DANCE LIKE ME.
Or like the vocalist from Cesspool, or Crepuscular, or Crapfarm,
or Candyasses, or whatever the B-Boy band that opened up on the
Danzig/SAmhain tour said, "I WANNA SEE SOME BLOOD ON THE MOTHERFUCKING
DANCE FLOOR!"
And I do. I do want to see some blood on the motherfucking dance
floor. I want it be my own blood and your blood mixing together in a pool
of BLOOD! What kind of pool did you think it would be? The buzzer ringing
at 12am kind? Nah, just pure ol' blood, sweet and sour, General Tso.
What is a conscience? well, I think a conscience is that little
voice in the back of your head that tells you what you're doing is right,
or what you're doing is wrong. Like for instance, let's say you're a
She-Wolf of the SS, the Bitch of Buchenwald. Chances are, your conscience
is telling you you're doing something wrong. But if you're some buck
toothed fat assed whiskey drink over-privileged whore from Beverley Hills
dispensing blow jobs in the Oval Office, chances are you don't have a
conscience, so the whole point is moot anyway. Yes, it's time to declare
war on L.A., and the way to do it is go down to the West Village and blow
up Monica Lewinsky's apartment. I could do it right now if I had a pipe
bomb like Eric "Columbine" Harris and Dylan "Yoplait" Klebold, but I'm
not smart enough to smuggle timers into my desk drawer. TIMERS THAT DON'T
EVEN FUCKING WORK, FOR GOD'S FUCKING SAKE! YOU CAN USE *ICE* AS A FUCKING
TIMER! I SAW IT ON MACGUYVER!
Ah, tis, tis, another crappy book by Frank McCourt, tis indeed.
Ah, begorah!, my natural Irish charm will amuse the Americans in the same
way that blackfaced Minstrel shows used to amuse them, and I'll ride it
all the way into glory ride.
well, I'm going to New Orleans, I wanna see the Mardi Gras!
got my ticket in my hand
He calls it Arlene, after
a favorite character in the gory Doom
video games and books that he likes so
much.
Dead waters rise higher than your mind...
hoe # 999 - mission parameters:
1. Create a blistering emotional wound of a text file that
encompasses various text file motifs. write a file that the general
populace will find so painful that the idea of ever revisiting these
motifs and themes will drive them to physical illness, thereby saving
myself from ever having to see the same 10 text files again.
2. say a lot of stupid shit.
3. establish a method of text file sampling previously
experimented with but never fully executed and thought out.
4. rip off a lot of people.
5. create a file so long and obnoxious that my three fans (mogel,
basehead, and tasha) who ordinarily hang on every word that I type, and
my obligated girlfriends (caitlin and darwin) who feel some sort of
relationship duty to read my disgusting shit, create a file so long that
even these two disparate groups of people are forced to abandon it long
before, thereby reducing and degrading them to the level of all the other
people in the world. I will be the true isolationist. I already feel like
Robinson Crusoe so I might as well live it. All the friends I ever had
are gone.
6. Finally end the teletype ordeal. A heroin crazed halloween has
moved my friendship with the big TT outside of random abuse and stupidity
and now it would no longer seem proper, but really what moved it outside
of that paradigm is a vixen from michigan.
I accidentally left my copy of JOURNAL OF A PLAGUE YEAR in a hotel
room in san francisco. Before I even read it. I bought it at CITY LIGHTS.
I was looking for fatty fat fat Ferlinghetti. That bastard owes me $5.
FIVE FUCKING DOLLARS IS NOT A LOT OF COMPENSATION FOR THE EMOTIONAL AND
ARTISTIC DAMAGE HE'S DONE TO MY LIFE. SO HE'LL PAY, OH, HE'LL PAY OUT HIS
FUCKING NOSE.
Getting drunk all the time.
fucking heroin reaper dave ryack BBS geek is running for mayor of
Pittsburg town.
AMERICA'S MOST WANTED UPDATE:
Return-Path: <Grrlfrmars@aol.com>
Date: Thu, 8 Jul 1999 10:30:22 EDT
Subject: Re: Let Old acquaintance be forgot
To: jwk208@is8.nyu.edu
Hello Jarett,
Right. I don't mean to be defensive or whatever right off, but instead
of feeling awkward yourself writing an introductory email, you decided to
make me feel incredibly awkward by writing a love letter for all of hoe
to read? That was definitely not a favorable first impression. However,
a reliable source told me that it was probably not your intention to make
me uncomfortable and that you're a nice person, so I'm giving you another
chance.
What do I do? Well I live in New Jersey, year round. In the summer I'm
in north Jersey, right outside NYC, and the rest of the year I go to
Rutgers in New Brunswick. I work in a music store, and I'm a DJ on the
radio. I'm really really into music, especially English stuff and stuff
from the 80s. Right now I'm off writing, because I just don't have any
subject matter. What I have been working on recently, with a lot of
breaks, is a dialogue. My absolute favorite authors are Stephen Fry,
David Sedaris, and Oscar Wilde, because they all share my favorite
characteristic in a writer: good, old-fashioned wit.
I'm a psychology major. I'm into the biological/chemical aspects of it,
not that bullshit therapy stuff. I am an incredible judge of character
too, if I do say so myself.
I do not usually associate with other writers or DJs, because I find most
to be incredibly pseudo-intellectual. I'm more impressed with a good
person than a "smart" person. I really don't care how much someone knows
about some obscure artist or how random they can be.
Anyway, I'm still not exactly thrilled about how you chose to get in
touch with me. It'll take me a while to stop feeling uneasy.
Miriam
Return-Path: <Grrlfrmars@aol.com>
Date: Fri, 9 Jul 1999 22:38:27 EDT
Subject: Re: Let Old acquaintance be forgot
To: jwk208@is8.nyu.edu
Hi there.
I'm glad you understand how I feel, I'm kinda going through a rough patch
at this point in my life. Everything has been freaking me out lately,
I'm really on edge. I got a letter last night from some random whose AOL
screen name is similar to mine, telling me off for being unoriginal.
Meanwhile, her name was spelled LiKe ThiS.
Res Ipsa Loquitor, eh? I'm also a Latin geek. I've had it in high
school and 2 semesters in college. My minor is Classics, which is pretty
much ancient Greek and Roman history along with some ancient languages.
Latin is my ancient language of choice. It's fun! Either that or I'm a
huge geek, my bet is on the latter. :)
I forgot to mention one of my favorite authors in my last letter.
Probably cos he hasn't done anything recently, but I love Tom Robbins.
He's as close to random stuff as I get. Random as in bordering on
incoherence.
As for pseudo-intellectualism, generally the attitude of "I am so smart
and the world must know it, plus I have no sense of humor about myself"
is the attitude that gets to me. I have encountered way too many people
with no ability to make fun of themselves. Basically, I appreciate
humility. I have been told that I am "apologetic" of my "intellect," and
I never let on about how much I know about what. I don't mean to sound
braggy (we can create our own words, can't we? :)), it's just what
someone said to me.
Anyway, that's all for this evening's babbling. Catch you later...
Miriam
Return-Path: <tregar@chia.bitflip.com>
Delivered-To: redirect-jarett@tregar.com
Date: Sun, 25 Jul 1999 01:36:10 EDT
Subject: searching the city for sci-fi wasabi
To: jarett@tregar.com
My dearest not-so-secret admirer,
Oftimes I wonder where you have gone, with whom and why. My letter to
you had gone unanswered, and I believed our correspondence to be at an
end. I thought you no longer were interested in carrying on with me, the
atmosphere in the channel that night we spoke was rather, as it were,
uncool, man. It had nothing to do with you, you were barely there that
night, disappointingly. I genuinely do find you to be quite interesting,
but please understand my (Groucho) Marxist stance on groups of people.
Call me antisocial and the like, but there's always one person in the
group that will either vex me or get my dander up. Another lame excuse
of mine is that I just moved, and another would be my over-involvement in
my job as a purveyor of pretentiousness at a local record store. Anyway,
I just want to reassure you that I do want to maintain contact with you,
but this is a two way street you know. As much as I enjoy pontification,
it's dead boring to everyone else. Speaking of which, have you seen my
poor excuse for a webpage? It's http://members.tripod.com/~Grlfrmars...
sign my guestbook! (nag nag nag) By the way, when do you go back to New
York? We could possibly do something silly like go to the Met if you're
interested. I love that place. Well I must get back to the
all-consuming chore of getting the damned fly out of my room. I've
always wanted a pet, but this was not what I had in mind. Write back
soon. :) I will leave you with some words of wisdom (from a reggae song I
heard at work) which apply to your religious inquiries: "Shake that
booty that Jesus gave you." Wishing you much shaking of booty,
Miriam
Return-Path: <tregar@chia.bitflip.com>
Delivered-To: redirect-jarett@tregar.com
Date: Mon, 26 Jul 1999 12:48:33 EDT
Subject: yes, well, definitely. indeed.
To: jarett@tregar.com
Jarett,
Hi there. I'm writing to you again, because I'm lonely and trapped in
my house. Well I'm not trapped, I can go for a walk, but there's nowhere
to walk to, and at this point, I need a destination. I was upset that
you weren't in the channel last night while I was there, I do want to
talk to you in a non-email environment.
God I wish my car had brakes. I'd be cruisin' the mean streets of
Passaic in my pimp-mobile (also known as the Black Stallion) shoutin out
to all the fly honeys and mah peeps, yo. But alack, if I attempted such
an outing at this point, it would be ideal until I tried to stop. I can
see the headlines now. Da Phat Car Gets Busted Up. Fly Honeys
Disappointed.
OK that's enough rambling for me. You best be writin' to me soon,
yo. I must say that you intrigue me.
Peace out, cub scout
Miriam
America's Most Wanted Capture #464: Girl From Mars!
Due to the relentless crusading of police officials, and to the
thousands of viewers who called to give us their tips, the suspect known
as Girl From Mars has been apprehended.
Let this be a warning to criminals in the future: If you're
slightly pretentious and artsy, all it takes is someone with a modicum of
writing skill and a base general knowledge of literature to bait the
trap. And then you get snared. And then you're IN JAIL, the prison of
love, but Jean Genet is neither warden NOR prisoner.
Love,
Christina
OH DARLING, YOU KNOW YOU TOUCH ME AT THE BOTTOM OF MY
SOUL AND YOU KNOW AS I WALK ALONG THROUGH THIS WORLD
THAT I KNOW I'M THE DUKE, THE DUKE OF EARL
OH CAITLIN, WON'T YOU BE MY DUCHESS?
MY DUCHESS OF EARL?
AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII KNOW I'M GONNA LOVE
YOU OH OH COME ON LET ME HOLD YOU DARLING CUZ I'M THE DUKE OF EARL OH
YEAH YEAH YH YEAH AND WHEN I HOLD YOU YOU'LL BE MY DUCHESS MY DUCHESS OF
EARL AS I WALK THROUGH MY DUKEDOM AND THE PARADISE WE WILL SHARE YES UH
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII KNOW I'M GONNA LOVE YOU OH OH NOTHING CAN STOP
ME NOW CUZ I'M THE DUKE OF EARL AI YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH WHOOOO OOOOO OOOO
OOOOOO OOOO AH AH AH OOOOOO O O OOOO OOOOO OOOO THE DUKE OF EARL WELL UH
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII KNOW I'M GONNA LOVE YOU OH OH NOTHING CAN STOP ME
NOW CUZ I'M THE DUKE OF EARL YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH WHOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOO
I WONDER WONDER WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME
OH WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE I GOT TO KNOW THE ANSWER WAS IT SOMEONE
FROM ABOVE? I WONDER WONDER WONDER WONDER WHO WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE?
I LOVE LOVE YOU DARLING BABY YOU KNOW I DO BUT I GOT TO SEE THIS BOOK OF
LOVE TO FIND OUT WHAT IS TRUE I WONDER WONDER WONDER WONDER OH WHO WHO
WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE CHAPTER ONE SAYS YOU LOVE HER LOVE HER WILL ALL
YOUR HEART CHAPTER TWO YOU TELL HER YOU NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER GONNA
PART IN CHAPTER THREE REMEMBER THE MEANING OF ROMANCE IN CHAPTER FOUR YOU
BREAK UP BUT YOU GIVE HER ONE MORE CHANCE
The Symposium Lite,
by Plato, Jr.
Ah, greetings Xenon! I see you are on your way to the
and that is what love is. Fuck me fickle, Alcibiates.
THE END
In conversation, I speak just like a Baroness, my voice hoarse
with lust for Destro. I will buy him turtle wax and polish his golden
head like a shoe-shine negro.
"DRIVING TO THE PACIFIC OH SHIT I CAN'T DRIVE
I'LL JUST GO TO BEN'S HOUSE INSTEAD"
by tasha abner
Did you know I cry? I do. Not an absurd amount, but enough to
substantially qualify me as someone who does, indeed, cry. That's as far
as I'm going tonight. I cry. The end.
"We are the sons of no one"
by murmur
he didn't know what she looked like or even if she was vaguely
human but it didn't matter because he was sad and pathetic and hell she
was the possessor of a cunt, perhaps not the best cunt, but a cunt all
the same.
he did not know from using his computer to talk to her, well
several computers really, he didn't know from using his computer to talk
to her if her cunt would stink or if it would smell like the morning dew
settling on roses, but he sorely hoped it would be the latter option.
Just in case, he bought some pussy cleaning fluid. If her pussy stank he
planned to tell her it "turned him on" to apply the cleaning fluid to a
girl's "pussy".
she was flying in on wednesday. it was her spring break and he
wanted to get away from home. she would come to him with her cunt that he
did not know the scent of. he wasn't really sure what she got the
god I can't go on any more.
this third person narrative, it's so fake! How can I pretend that
this file isn't about me? God, Lish, baby, honey doll, I love you, and
we're the bastard sons of no one, oh god baby, won't you come back to me
soon, please baby? I want to tattoo and pierce you and photograph you and
put it all the fucking way up in FLESH MUTATE magazine and oh baby, I
want you to make me dolls of yourself, please lish, honey? Please? I
can't tell the girls from the boys anymore, lish, not without that
guiding hand... Oh god, my crank, my sweet sweet crank...
really, he'd already made his mind up that she was extra-special
and was everything he's always hoped for in a girl. she said the same
about him, too. it would take calamity to strike things down. but how
can you not worry about calamity? put all your eggs in a basket like
this and BOOM! something not-so-good is liable to happen. he knew
better. i mean, hell, he might NOT find her attractive at all. it
wasn't that unreasonable, was it?
WAS IT? OH GOD NO IT WAS NOT BUT IN HER I DID FIND THE SWEET LOVE
CRANK LISH NEED THAT I ALWAYS HAD OH GOD LISH LISH LISH LISH I CAN'T TELL
THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE OH NO NONO NO I CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM
THE BOYS ANYMORE AND I AS LOOK AROUND MY DUKEDOM I JUST WANT TO FUCK YOU
LISH HERE ON THE BUS WE WILL SUCK FACE LIKE SICK DISGUSTING ANIMALS
DEGENERATE AND FILTHY WILL YOU EAT MY BANANA, YOU SICK FUCKING ANIMAL?
he to this day doesn't remember the next few moments in very
particular detail. all he knows is that after some hand fidgeting, some
hand jockeying, a couple glances at each other, he was surprised to find
that they were kissing, kissing on the bus. she'd said "kiss me on the
bus" before. they both knew that that was an old song, even though they
weren't sure who by.
YOU CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE
YOU CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE
YOU CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE
YOU CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE
OH NO NO NO
DEAD JOE
<Quarex> "she paused in her monologue then, and looked across the field to
a small grove. she reached to her face and moved her finger
lightly among her bottom lip, a FUCKING DERR DERR DERRR
HUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUH"
<que> kried, have you ever seen my picture? (i am guessing so :)
<AltRocks> no
<AltRocks> it's me
<Quarex> GOD THIS IS SO FUCKING GODAWFUL
<swissphil> HAhahahahhahaha
<Quarex> BULLS ON PARADE
<kreid> yeah
<que> aidz, i'm female obviously.
Why do you put in IRC logs to your files? I don't know but I gotta
do it, it's a compulsion like cockroaches covering my body, gotta do what
I gotta do so I do it and you all spew it. Spew. Dead waters rise high
than my mind. I hate all of you. Every last one of you. But you still
read on, regardless of my hate, regardless of the burning fury and
loathing that I have. Every friend I ever had is gone. Sometimes I cry.
I'm so lonely cuz I am got no homely women.
Let's just... So you're all alone once again, and you know that
tomorrow's gonna be the same as it was today, and you can't pretend like
you're who you weren't. it'll eat you up inside like a television but you
can't say no and you can't hide and you have to do it and you don't even
seem particularly interested in the sex anymore, but still, you'll fuck
until your thighs bleed, because you're a miserable cretin, a wretch on
the face of the earth. Yeah disappointment's always there for me,
disappointment's my best friend, I hide beneath the apple tree, and all
the apples fall on me. Gonna give my heart to the pigs to roll on, and
they're gonna cool their sweatless bodies on my sorrow, yeah, it's like
water in the dirt, it makes some killer mud, oh shit, your daddy's full
of termites. Bleeding women always follow me. it was and I would prefer
not to recall it was during beauty's decline. Today in paris the women
are stained with blood.
Sometime I'll have to edjumacate you.
I live in a church where I sleep with voodoo dolls and I won't
give up the search for the ghosts in the halls I wear sandals in the snow
and a smile that won't wash away I wonder if I can look out the window
without my shadow getting in the way I'm so beautiful with an edge and a
charm I'm so careful when you're in my arms.... I woke up screaming aloud
a prayer to my secret God I feed off your fears and hold back my tears Oh
I give you a tantrum and know-it-all grin just when you need one When the
evening is thin I'm a beautiful, a beautiful fucked up man I'm setting up
my razor wire shrine
"oooh little darling"
by Quarex, the Manthing
I know a girl I know a girl I knew a girl cuz know she don't wanna
know me cuz I tried to kiss her and my tongue is like a hunk of
kryptonite going up super-man's asshole, except his asshole is her mouth
and now we don't kiss no more.
Yeah so I went on a date with this girl, and hell yeah, she was
hot, and I was like giving her my Frank Sinatra eyes, but she wasn't
having any love from ol' Drew HUNT, no, she was just giving me hate. I
tried to kiss her and she threw water on me and then and made out with a
dog named Spot. Then the dog pissed on her and threw her down a flight of
stairs and when I tried to help her up she ran to spot and forgave him.
She didn't even look at me, to see it was me who helped her up.
Why are girls so dumb?
Let me tell you about this other girl. well, her ass was sweet and
I loved her from the moment I saw her, so I went up to her, and I said,
"If you come with me I'll take you to Mars and I'll give you everything
you ever wanted." Then she spit on me and took up with a hooligan who
pissed on her and threw her down a flight of stairs and when I tried to
help her up she ran to the hooligan and forgave him. She didn't even look
at me, to see it was me who helped her up.
I'm not mad, though, because I just think of some Guns N Roses
lyrics that were etched in my brain so many years ago, and this is what
I'm going to say to her, and to all the girls, and to my future wife and
soul mate someday, and she's gonna know how true it is:
I see you standin'
Standin' on your own
It's such a lonely place for you
For you to be
If you need a shoulder
Or if you need a friend
I'll be here standing
Until the bitter end
No one needs the sorrow
No one needs the pain
I hate to see you
Walking out there
Out in the rain
So don't chastise me
Or think I, I mean you harm
Of those that take you
Leave you strung out
Much too far
Baby-yeah
Don't ever leave me
Say you'll always be there
All I ever wanted
Was for you
To know that I care
So sweetheart, wherever you are, I love you even though I don't
know you, and sleep well, and think of the time we'll be together, in the
not too distant ("I Hope!") future. Our minds and bodies melding together
like the ultimate post-erotic star trek experience. I love you, dear.
If I knew how to parody that unrelated style of file, I'd do it,
but I don't, so I'd just like to use this space to once again apologize
for making Unrelated a member of HOE. He's a piece of shit. And he sucks,
and it's really sad he isn't dead. When I read that email I got a major
erection, so I compulsively masturbated, and then I looked up in my
mailbox, and there was mail from phairgirl telling me he wasn't dead, and
my post-mortem orgasm was actually a pre-mortem orgasm and that just
soured the flavor of my own semen to wild grape rather than orange
julius.
HAHAHAHAH WHAT YOU MOTHERFUCKERS HAVE INVITED IS THE CRAZIEST NIGGA
THAT HAS EVER BEEN INVENTED
I WANT TO SEE SOME BLOOD ON THE MOTHER FUCKING DANCE FLOOR
i want to >SEE< some >BLOOD< on the
motherfuckign DANCE FLOOR
I WANNA see SOME blood ON the MOTHERFUCKING dance FLOOR
i wanna see some BLOOD on the mnotherfuckign
i wanna see soem blooD on the mother
i anwnwan see some bloord0krfjijsfjd on the mothetrufk
ujafuabnwanjusgrj sese sometbl00d0
njhamnefmotherufkernfhhfeuaeufea
see soem bm00dl on the motherufkeirng
some bseeing slf0b00dokwff mftoth
sieiemgnmns lfsfopbl0fd0f0rfs mtotherufkcer
ueksea0se0s0ef Bl00d0 thasaf eskmotharefklcuk
see somet bomet0elrsajfuafheheajemgfmb
ymefsmesoeollbe rbl00d motherufker see osme
b0l0s0de son your
monshthefsj,amfoiaefoae0f bl00d motherufker
yeah v09l00b0slfdl vlofo0glerg omotehrufkcer
al00vlersfj boalalae lb00d motherufker
fuckienr g bm0therufblodo
lb0b0b0lfer amotherufkcering
on fl0b00dkm blood0f0redkbld0r00roikfkf
some0bl0d0f0lbmotherufkcer
bl000d somemotherufkerbvlf0r0r
olkfsl0bkwemfemotheruifkeingegk
soleemgogme4htingrs soledfasd mtheufking mbl00d
eiananfenepussy lb00d cug youtfgsacermbl0d00d
bl00a0dlef on my mother0fkerufukign
danmcieng fl00r0n blom0therufkb00dufkcerf
lb00fslf0embl00djf0blbblamboozle
In a statement, the museum said the board of trustees and its staff "are
shocked and extremely saddened by this incomprehensible act that has
attempted to deface an important work of art by a world renowned artist."
Wooooooooo oh
in his west german home
in his west german home
in his west german hoooOOooowooooome
in his west german hooooooOwooome
Oh, yeah, I coulda gone down that watery way and pretended
I was Swamp Ratte' and this was my gopher feed mail bomb bomb in hell
from the gophers, I could pretend like HOE #999 and HOE #1000 were
monumentous occasions upon which great big funny reflective text files
required writing, but what kind of person would I be? WE HAVE NO MESSAGE
SO NO MESSAGE CAN GET CORRUPTED. WE ARE SHIT SO THAT WE CAN NEVER TURN TO
SHIT. There's only one way up and over the wall. There's no obstacles for
you to climb. This is elementary my dear, this elementary, WATSON!
ELEMENTARY WATSSOOON UNDERGROUND SREET TALK SUBURBS OF NEW YORK CAITLIN
CLEANING MY APARTMENT RIGHT NOW AS I'M TYPING 22nD STREET FALLING ON YOUR
HEAD LIKE RAIN IL PLEUT I'M NOW A POEM BY VERLAINE I AM INFERIOR IN MANY
WAYS TO MY CREATOR'S LOVER'S POEMS, I CAN NEVER BE A DRUNKEN BOAT, BUT AT
LEAST I MAINTAIN A LITTLE BIT OF SYMBOLIST RESPECTABILITY IN THE STORM OF
SHIT I AM NOT SPATTERED SO MUCH AS THE OTHERS
your woman stomps on boxes and you watch invalid
you are an invalid and you are invalid
both re the same and different
can't you turn my money down?
HERE IS A TRANSLATION OF MYSELF:
In That Cafe Crowded with Fools We Stood
In that cafe crowded with fools we stood
Just us two for the hideous turpitude
of liking men; they never thought, the cunts.
We sat on their dim-witted innocence
Their standard loves, their tiny gold rules
While holding to our principles and tools
We swung and parried to our heart's content
Veiled in a cloud on peaceful pipes had sent
Like Zeus and Hera in their nebulous bed
Till our two Punch noses glad and red
Wiped by our fingers with delightful squeezed
Under our table jetted great white sneezes.
I AM HERE REPRESENTED MANY LOVE ME OTHERS DESPISE ME BUT
UNLIKE MY FRIENDS
UNLIKE SO MANY POEMS
I AM AT THE VERY LEAST REMEMBERED
ONLY IN THE MEMORY OF THE FEW MAY I LIVE
THIS IS BETTER THAN A FATE OF ABJECT DEATH
A FATE WHICH MANY SUFFER
a fate which many suffer: self-loathing
(a) beginning of life
(c) adolescenceee
(f) early adult hood
(h) sometime yesterday
(i) middle age
(f) elderly
(z) old age
All these stages of the old and the dying all these loves of the
young and the stupid all these stages of the theatrical and gay all these
lusts of the middling and ill all these copernicean dreams of my own
death at my own hands suicide you may think but i mean something more
glorious something better than mere suicide I mean to erase any existence
of my own self from this world with the power of the mind all images get
corrupted ; they're like apples exposed to the air ; i plan to corrupt my
own ; and by so distorting the image from the reality i shall cease to
exist and that manthing known as kobek will become hidden in the tapestry
backwards and never be seen again the total immolation of being
I've grown tired at last of this ancient world... uh, I mean I've
gotten real sick of playing this orgone accumulator thing, so I'm just
gonna give you that sweet shit, that Latka Teletype shit, just give them
what they WANT! Fine, yes, fine, good. But I remain adamant; the concept
has been beaten to death; it's dead horse; I won't write anymore files
about teletype or meenk, unless perhaps I release a uuencode of her
genitalia entitled "TELETYPE HIT THIS SHIT", but that notwithstanding, I
shall do nothing further with the theme or idea. I include it here in HOE
#999 so that the dead horse may not just be a theoretical dead horse but
may acquire the flavor and taste of putrefaction as all such things in
HOE #999 possess. yes, yes, now you know that horrid truth: HOE #999 is
to kill all and kill none. My grand endeavor, of course, will fail
miserably, but still, it's nice to see some effort come with it. some
purpose, some need; isn't it? Oh yes. Oh yes, yes, yes it is. So, without
much further adieu here's the teletype file:
I feel in some ways that I, Jarett, have seriously maligned both
meenk and teletype. In that I have found meenk in the channel (#ezines)
speaking of taking teletype's virginity, I always assumed her hard-assed,
I'm-oh-so-worldly-wise-due-to-my-exorbitant-sexuality-and-oh-so-
frank-discussions-of-human-sexuality-and-oh-so-hard-core-due-to-these-odd-
observations-on-human-nature-but-please-let's-not-forget-that-I-am-also-
a-little-bit-tragic-and-deserving-of-human-pity-and-sympathy-for-this-the-
fate-of-my-own-making-but-is-it-really-not-of-my-own-making-when-you-
consider-my-incredibly-sad-and-tragic-past-something-out-of-Aeschylus-
really to be, in some ways, the primary motivator of her actions. What I
mean to say is, I did not consider the possibility that she was
self-aware enough to have different motivators outside of her carefully
constructed image, and that when she slept with teletype, she was
thinking, "Ah, more experience of the shit of life, more terror and
horror! I am a friend to all things dark and dreary! This just adds to
the shit I have suffered! More! More! Bring on the pains of mortal men,
my heart will absorb them all."
Unfortunately, it seems that I was wrong.
It seems that this relationship, which was brief, undoubtedly,
which I had assumed came out of some self-destructive impulse, actually
was motivated, according to meenk, out of love.
She loved the big lug. That's why she slept with him.
At least that's what she claims, and in a way, I'd like to believe
it. It's a decent end to the whole fucking spectacle I have created. That
I have mocked the existence of love while trying to mock the existence of
depravity. Even if it proves to be false, and it's a way for meenk to add
yet another layer to that oh-so-well-crafted self-image, I'd like to
believe it for a little while. I'd like to believe that when the dick
went into the pussy, she really did love him. LOVED HIM LIKE HE WAS THE
GOD OF LOVE. Yeah, I see it now. the flesh parting beneath the parting
flesh, teletype's dick is the moses of her red sea of pussy flesh, and it
is not lust or the ejaculatory need that spreads the shore, but rather
love divine and incarnate in the flesh of these two miscreant misfits.
They were in LOVE, for god's sakes! What the hell is wrong with
me? Why did I become such a vicious prosecutor of their open wound? Why
was I Pilate?! GOD I DON'T KNOW! Perhaps in a way, HOE #999 is a
testament to the size of my ego, for I have taken the entire text file
world and scene of the past ten years and not reflected upon it, nor
given it a witty, oh-so-wise theme or spin, but rather have used it as a
facet of EGO.
You are not people, I say. I am the only person, I say. You are
mere facets of the self, I say. What self? you ask. The only true self, I
say, the self that is me, that is kObek, that is living breathing flesh
god you never tried to worship for fear he'd not answer the door.
Suffer beneath these fists and keep your lusts trim. Keep the deep
Helm stoned and boned. Keep mogel awake and pictures of Jarett and
Caitlin atop your mini-tower. Keep the water flowering and the diet pepsi
blistering. Keep the bones rolling and the dice strolling! Keep the
balcony door shut, it's getting cold. Keep the cold open it's getting
warm. Keep the gods pacificed they're getting old.. Keep the old alive
they're getting young. Keep your shoes on, they're getting muddy. keep
the mud wet it's getting bloody. Keep the blood boiling, you're getting
rheumatic.
HELL YEAH: A LIST OF WEBSITES JARETT VISITS ON A DAILY BASIS:
1. www.cnn.com
2. www.slashdot.org
3. www.oldmanmurray.com
4. www.aint-it-cool-news.com
5. www.nytimes.com
KISS ME BAAABY GORGING HONEY'S SUNK AGAIN
Sold into slavery down in Innsmouth, yeah, by the goddess of the
bayou light... Fucking Eliza Marsh! Fucking!!! FUCK!!!!!! FUCK DOUD!!!
FUCK!!!!!!!!!
SING ME A SONG DARWIN SING ME A SONG TO KEEP ME WARM: HIDE BEHIND
YOUR MASKS, IF YOU CAN! HOW AM I GOING TO DEAL? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO
FEEL? HOW AM I GOING TO DEAL? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL?
and every time he quoted another song, an angel got its
wings. But we've parodied everyone one. We've gotta little mogel in
there, a little styx, a little anjeeline jolie, a little quarex, some
tasha, more than enough of basehead, yeah, we've got everyone deep inside
my file, here and there and everyfucking where. But who haven't we
parodied? Well, myself, for one. Oh, but you say, sir, you have extended
the file to such a length that it can not help but be self-parody, plus
can I not detect more than a hint of self mockery in all of it? Yes, yes,
I say, laughing beneath my breath, cursing you for your ignorance,
because we have not out and out sacrificed my body on the altar of
Quetzacoatl.
"HERE IS SOME RANDOM SHIT, A CAPTURE, AND SOMETHING ABOUT
TELETYPE OR ANOTHER MODEM SCENE FIGURE THAT YOU DON'T REALLY KNOW"
by AIDS
James Joyce danced with Bea Arthur who hung out with Herman
Melville! Yeah!!! Call me Ismahel!!! Call me Ahab! Fucking moby dicK!
Fucking Mark Twain! Fucking Glenn Danzig! Fucking Axl Rose! Fucking yeah!
Fuckinmg hahahah!!! look I'll type my name in a random place for no
reason!!!! JARETT KOBEK!!!! hahahaha yeah!!!1 I did it!!! shit yeah!!1
JARETT KOBEK!!!!!!!! WOOOoO JARETT KOBEK!!!!! Hahahahah my own! name!
Wow! It serves no purpose yet I can not help but type it! hahahah the
same with literary and cultural allusions! I am a pretentious art fag!
Yes! God Yes! I am attempting to prove my superiority with random
nonsense! hahahah! damn! I rock! You are all shit! Sweet Moses Ash
recording Leadbelly on the banjo of Luis Bunuel while Antonin Artaud
sucks off Anais Nin, Henry Miller not withstanding all the lust I gave to
Martis Amis and all the slutty bitches of Toni Morrison and Kenzaburo Oe
Kobo Abe Yasunara Kawabata Yukio Mishima Francis Bacon Alanis Morrisette
Tom Hanks Tom Green Tom Wolfe Virginia Woolf Ray Bradbury Isaac Asimov
Jean leCorbiellier Charls Baudelaire Arthur Rimbaud Paul Verlaine Klaus
Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski
Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Nastassja Kinski Klaus Kinski
Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinsi Klaus Kinski William S. Burroughs
George Wendt Gore Vidal Dan Bern Bob Dylan Ani DiFranco beck Beck beck
beck beck KLAUS KINSKI!!!! KLAUS KINSKI!!! Beck Tom Foolery Adam Horovitz
Charles Darwin Robert Coli Sam Tregar Jarett Kobek Rita Hayworth Marlene
Deitrich Bessie Smith Missippi John Hurt Archie Bunker Jughead Spike Lee
Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski The Artist Formerly Known as Prince Phil
Collins Robert Plant Jimmy Page John Bonham John Paul Jones Keith Moon
F.T. Marinetti Giordano Bruno Hermes Trismegistus NIJINSKI Ficcino! Pico
della Mirandola! Copernicus! Thomas Aquinas! Nicholas of Cusa! Peter
Lombard! Duns Scots! ---ABIEZER COPPE-- --THOMAS TANY-- --GERARD
WYNSTANLEY-- Andrea Dworkin King Philip Gareth Penn Sissy Spaceck Hahahah
Here's a fucking capture:
Newsgroups: nyu.general,nyu.chat,nyu.students.government
From: Student Council <msh210@nyu.edu>
Subject: American Sign Language
X-Mailer: PINE 3.95
Followup-To: nyu.chat
Date: Thu, 4 Nov 1999 08:21:23 -0500
INFORMATIONAL MEMORANDUM
From: CAS Student Council
To: CAS students
The School of Education offers four courses in American Sign Language.
Heretofore, these courses could not be used in fulfillment of the
foreign-language requirement in CAS. As of this past Spring, CAS policy
has changed. The current policy is that any student who wishes to count
ASL as a foreign language can ask the Committee on Undergraduate Academic
Standards for an allowance to count it as such. (The Committee has been
instructed to grant such permission without fuss.) If you wish such
permission, fill out a petition form in the Advising Center (905 Main).
For more information on taking courses outside CAS, see an advisor in 905
Main; for more information on the ASL courses, see the Deafness
Rehabilitation Department (Education Building, twelfth floor).
NOW HOW ABOUT A LITTLE BIT OF TELETYPE?!?!? YEGAAGAGAG GAGAGA TGAT
MOTHERFUCKER IS FAT AND HE HAD SEX WITH MEENK HAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT WHAT A
FATSO WHAT A FUCKING FATASS HOLY SHIT HAHAHAHAhAH FUCKING MEENK YEAH
the end.
Well, no, not really.
just the end of the parody,
oh we hate making fun of ourselves, don't we,
precious?
there are dinners to be eaten in uncomfortable
silences and doors to remain shut in anger and windows to look out in
longing and pictures of yourself looking smarmy that sit on your
computer, but what the hell? WHAT THE HELL CAN YOU DO ABOUT LIFE?! IT'S
NEVER GOING TO END, NO MATTER WHAT THEY TELL YOU, AND IF IT DOES ACTUALLY
END YOU WON'T EVEN NOTICE BECAUSE IT'LL BE FINAL AND YOU'LL BE DEAD AND
THEN WHAT? THEN WHAT? . the period mistaken for a fly speck in the
penultimate chapter of Ulysses I HAVE STOLEN AND TAKEN IT TO THE FORTRESS
OF SOLITUDE
HERE'S A FUCKING CAPTURE:
Message 6/2055 From mogel Dec 24, 99 07:57:57 pm -0500
Return-Path: <mogel@hoe.nu>
Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 19:57:57 -0500 (EST)
To: aids@hoe.nu
Subject: yooooooooo!!! hehehe
yeah, i'm putting off the ANARCHY release till after #1000 comes
out. sorry, i know it tears you up inside.
please be sure to get #999 done in the next week, so there won't
be any excessive delays with releasing and whatnot. i will work on a
good rough start for hoe #1001 and then pass it to you for additional
sections/parts--assuming you have the time. #999 is most important, but
other help would be swelly-swell. i know this is a MAgiCaL MoMenT of
JOY, it being with you and caity together over the holidays, so i don't
wanna sound like a poo-pest. huh?
just think, you could be me and be a pathetic loser!
-Mogel/HOE EXTREME DETHSQUAD SYNDICATE BLOOD AND ROCK 4EVER
Here's some fucking shit about teletype:
HAHHAHAH TELETYPE TRIED TO COMMIT SUICIDE AND I
ENCORUAGED HIM HAHAHAHA WHAT A FATSO HWHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAH WHAT A SUCKER
CLOWN HAHAHAHAHA LOOK HOW CALLOUS I AM OR AM I MERELY CALLOW? AHHAHAHAH
HERE"S A FUCKING CAPTURE:
Message 8/2055 From Dylan Greene Dec 24, 99 12:28:19 pm -0500
Return-Path: <dylangreene@bellsouthips.com>
Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 12:28:19 -0500 (EST)
To: jwk208@is8.nyu.edu
Subject: re[2]: hey stud
Uhh.. Have a good christmas and stuff, Jarett.
HAHAHAH HERE'S SOME FUCKING SHIT ABOUT TELETYPE: DID I MENTION HE
FUCKED MEENK? HOLY SHIT HE STUCK IT INSIDE HER AND HE CAME!! AHAHAHAH THE
SECRET OF THEIR LIVES IS S-E-cthck! HAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT I SAID SEX!!
!HAHAHAH FUCKED!!! HE STUCK IT IN!! AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HOLY GOD IN
HEAVEN!!! I MENTIONED SEX! HAHAHAHAH JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY SAVE ME FROM
THIS DEVASTATING SENSE OF HUMOR!!! AHHAHAHA IT SHOULD BE LICENSED BY THE
FEDERAL GOVERNMENT BECAUSE IT'S SO LETHAL!!! THE NRA SHOULD BE PROTECTING
MY RIGHT TO USE IT! AHHAHA SESX!!!!!! SEX!!!! SHIT ALL GOD IN HEAVEN!!!!
HOLY FUCKING LORD!!!!! I'M FUNNY AS HELL!!!!! HAHHAHAHA OH GOD YOU ALL
BOW BEFORE ME!!!!!
holiday tune: rump puh pum pum on my drum rump puh pum pum
on my drum
"My Book Report on Angela's Ashes
and Tis by delightful Frank McCourt"
by MEENK
Having not actually read either book, I can only proffer my
opinions on Frank McCourt and his wonderful works with the caveat that
they are based in heresay and nonsense. Well, first and foremost, you
must understand that growing up in the Irish town of Limerick was not an
easy thing for Frank McCourt.
He suffered greatly. Of course, since I too, in my long hard
battle of a life have suffered greatly, I can not empathize nor
sympathize with his suffering. He deserved to suffer, because I have
suffered, and as I have for the most part elevated myself from my
suffering, so too do I hope that Frank McCourt did the same. What I mean
to say is, if I was exceptionally poor and then suddenly became
exceptionally rich, I would not give back any money to my urban
community. I would become as avaricious and greedy as any person had ever
become before. I would be a rap star.
Frank McCourt's life was tough and bad. At Least I think it was,
because I haven't read either book. Somehow, my total lack of knowledge
about the books and gross ignorance about pretty much everything else in
life makes me the perfect commentator on this particular subject. And, if
you really want to know the more abstract truth, my ignorance makes me
the perfect commentator on every subject, not just that delightful Frank
McCourt.
For instance, because I am full of shit and will never make any
sense, and never have made any sense, I am incapable of seeing how fucked
I truly am. Most decent people, upon catching a reflection of themselves
in the proverbial mirror, would cower in shame at how ridiculous they
truly are. Myself, however, am so blinded by my ignorance that I am quite
similar to an owl in daylight. Because I can not see anything, my
blindness empowers me to sound off on any given subject I like.
A favorite topic of mine is this so-called "pussy stare" that men
get when they do so peruse the genitalia of women. First hand, I say, men
always seem rather befuddled upon looking down the barrel of my cootchie,
and get this dumb look on their face that reminds me of cocker spaniels
at midnight. I would propose that men get this so-called "pussy stare"
because they are enraptured with that which they can never possess. I
would propose that faced with the pussy they become dumb animals
over-awed by the ultimate unknown.
The fact that my own genitals (as so clearly revealed in
pierce.jpg) look something like wet roast beef put through a wheat
thrasher left around to sit since last Sunday, I say again, the fact that
my own genitals look like this means nothing. Clearly when men are faced
with genitalia of the woman they become overwhelmed with the ultimate
unobtainable. It is inconceivable to me that they might just be spooked
out by my moist slathering cootchie and wonder what they have gotten
themselves into. No, this not temporal, watson, this is not elementary,
WATSON, this is a topic of universal hard-assed profundity.
huh huh dead people huh huh
But the man who has made millions on his long-running sitcom, in
part, by glorifying the single life and poking fun at commitment,
eluded the press on his wedding day by using a decoy limousine.
His honeymoon plans were kept quiet, too.
something old: hoe something borrowed: hoe something blue: altrocks
WE MAKE WAR WITH THE VIETNAMESE
they'll korupt hoe #999 and turn it into bastion of the
bourgeoisie, yes, god knows they will. They'll take it from what it was
and they'll make it the direct opposite, not with their own generation,
of course, but with the generation that is to come. In 40 years, I'll be
helping your grand children through high school. They'll have to read me
and learn me and they'll hate me just like you hate Emily Bronte.
JOHN 19
1: Then Pilate therefore took Jesus, and scourged him.
2: And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on his
head, and they put on him a purple robe,
3: And said, Hail, King of the Jews! and they smote him with their
hands.
4: Pilate therefore went forth again, and saith unto them, Behold,
I bring him forth to you, that ye may know that I find no fault
in him.
5: Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the
purple robe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the man!
"But, Jarett," said Caitlin, "do you really have to do this?"
"I'm afraid so," I said, and wiped a solitary tear off her cheek.
In the distant sunlight her face was a plum asking to be skinned, but up
close, here under the stars, it was a the lone surviving cherry blossom
of a grotto long paved over and turned into a parking lot. I didn't want
to cause her the pain, but there was nothing else I could do.
She said my name again, and I relished her mid-western accent. From
time to time I'd teased her about it being Nova Scotian, impersonating
this hacker Black Monday who used to call me up and ask about UNIX. Much
laughter had by all as I made my voice a shrill blister aching out the
words, "JERRETT, JERRETT, HELP ME HACK A EUNUCHZ, EH?"
I could hear, in the distance, the plaintive call of Cthulhu
coming from HOE #999. He was the first text file I'd ever really taken in
is a pet, and god damn, he sure was loud. Worse than my old beagle,
Jasper, who had barked consistently through my entire life, and worse
than my cat Dean, who talked in meows more than most people did with
words.
She sighed and rolled her eyes as the calls of HOE #999 reached
her. I tried to justify myself. I tried to explain that sometimes things
happened in life which transcended mortal concerns, and that I could not
miss a moment where my entire destiny would be decided. I was to be Lord
Jim as the ship was perceived to begin sinking. Would I jump or would I
stay aboard? I didn't want to make the wrong choice. This was my Lord Jim
moment. But she didn't care, she didn't want to hear any of it, and I
couldn't blame her.
If she had told /me/ that one of her text files, regardless of
length, had become suddenly animate and required assistance in a grand
journey, and that she might never come back, I'd be pretty upset. I'd be
bawling, I'm sure. Out and out. So I couldn't blame her. I might have
even taken it worse than she did. It was clear she wasn't going to stop
me, that she would let me throw the whole thing away on what amounted to
hideous pipe dream. I don't think I could have been big enough of a
person to do it. It made the leaving all the more painful.
I tried to kiss her, but she wouldn't let me. HOE #999 came over
the distant hills and we saw him and heard him. He cried out and I
answered with a, "Here boy, here!" It wasn't long before HOE #999 was at
our ankles, rubbing up against us and mewling.
"You could come with us, you know," I told her.
"No," she said, "I couldn't."
"No, no, I guess you really couldn't."
Do you know what love is? she asked me.
Sure I do.
A boy loves his text file.
chapter II: in which it is proved an easier
thing to eat cockroaches than
carbon-14 date rats
Having fed Caitlin's body to HOE #999, and thus severing the last
tie with this world, I decided to shed off this mortal coil.
The glass knife was cool in my hand, and I passed it to HOE #999.
He fingered it in one paw and then passed it to the other, trying to get
ahold of its weight and shape. "Cut me free," I said. He glowered for a
moment. A silly below escaped his lips. "It's not for me to use a knife."
his first words. I felt a father's joy as his mouth moved up and
down my body, facial hair pricking my side, as he searched for the cord
and sinew that kept soul in body. "Don't forget to free yourself
afterwards, boy,' I said. I felt an excruciating pain and heard a
crunching sound and then I felt and heard no more. I was above my body
looking down. What an ugly bastard I had turned out to be.
I watched as dear sweet HOE #999 drew my knife to his own body and
plunged it in to that very spot where flesh became life. His eyes rolled
back and his body collapsed into a heap. I became aware of a presence
beside me, and I looked, and saw HOE #999 not as he had been in life, but
as he should have been. Beautiful and sanguine. He was a yellow and blue
striped shirt on the body of a girl. He was everything good and pure and
beauteous. HOE #999, my son, my pet, my creation. Not what I had
actually created, but what I had wanted to create. My dreams fulfilled.
Ah, love, it was good.
"Well boy, looks like we gotta go."
chapter III: in which our hero learns
the value of a good blow-job
can outweigh any amount of gold
Welcome to the fun time
We're so happy here
We've no minds, we might as well be blind
We can lie together here
You can come down and join us
You're more than welcome to
Even though it's painful to the ears
But it might not all be true
HOE #999 AND I
SAW THE PATH OF HEAVEN
BEFORE US. WE KNEW WE
MUST GO INTO THAT
GREATER GLORY. IT WAS
EVIDENT AND NECESSARY.
THE MOON BEAMS LIT OUR
WAY. WE WENT INTO THE
LIGHT WHICH WAS
PAINFUL. WE ESCHEWED
THE LIGHT WHICH WAS
PLEASANT. IN HEAVEN
WE FOUND OURSELVES
AT THE GATES. ST.
PETER WAS THERE. HE
HAD A BOOK. I THOUGHT
IT WAS A BOOK OF NAMES
OF DEEDS AND SINS.
I WAS WRONG.
IT WAS A PRINTED COPY
OF HOE #999. HE ASKED
MY FILE FOR AN
AUTOGRAPHY. I COYLY
TOLD HIM I HAD YET TO
TEACH MY DARLING SON
HOW TO WRITE. PETER
SAID I MIGHT BE A BAD
FATHER. I SAID IT'S A
WICKED LIFE. HE AGREED.
I ASKED HIM WHAT MY
FATE WAS GONNA BE FOR
TELLING ALL THOSE LIES.
HE LAUGHED AND TOLD ME
THAT MY LIES WERE SMALL
LIES, AND THE GREATER
SIN WAS NOT THE LYING,
BUT THE THINKING MY
LYING HAD BEEN ANYTHING
IMPRESSIVE ENOUGH TO
WARRANT A BANISHMENT
FROM HEAVEN. I LAUGHED.
ALWAYS THE EGOTIST.
OPEN THE GATES, I SAID.
SO HE DID.
interlude: the long goodbye beholds the man
Behold the man! He is risen before you! Back and forth and over
again! He is alive and gone and dead and they stabbed Lazarus but did he
really die and I can't say! behold the man! Kobek is from the world
universal perfect makeup done by Hollywood consultants makes me the first
and the last. I am the alpha and the omega. I am the beginning and the
end. Woooooooo little honey don't you speak money don't you bring it to
me. CAN NOT SEE YOU ANYMORE. GIRL YOU'RE SO CLOSE TO FALLING ACROSS THE
FLOOR.
I imagine you're all expecting some profound meditation which ties
it all together, which takes all the loose ends and puts them into one
ball of yarn for Dean to roll around in. You're wrong. It ain't gonna
happen little mother, so keep waiting. Filled my Diet Pepsi with
fertility drugs won't help neither. I don't need my car cleaned or
nothing stolen out of it neither. And so we have come to the end, the end
the end...
You're a la di da driving around in flashy cars
You're a la di da di da di da
DI DA
Perhaps the only final thought I can leave you with is this:
Blatant is boring. It's why I hate Ani DiFranco it's why I hate you it's
why I hate mostly everything. Anything you can say blatantly can be said
a million times better with artifice and humor. It's all too easy to
simply throw down exactly what you're thinking and feeling. It's all too
easy to make overt political statements. It's all too easy to live your
life thinking you're some hardassed motherfucker who doesn't need nobody.
Who knows all the answers and can solve all the chinese puzzle boxes. I'm
not just talking about artsy things now, I'm talking about how you choose
to live your lives.
I don't know, maybe I'm totally wrong, but I could never live like
you do. I could never start from a point of negated reality and make the
conscious decision to stay at the point of negated reality. I could never
play the little tricks on myself, pretending like I know about the CRUEL
REALITY OF LIFE, pretending like I'm some hard assed motherfucker,
pretending that everything sucks, pretending that there's nothing out
there in the first place.
Anyway; I think all I'm trying to say is: don't sell yourselves
short. You're probably a lot better human beings than you're willing to
let on, and it's a fucking shame to sit around pretending to be some
primordial beast who fucks, eats, shits, gets high and dies. It's a
waste.
And you all know how I feel about waste.
chapter IV: in which our boys
learn to stop worrying
and love the bomb
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| |
\ . . / - WELCOME TO HEAVEN
| |
| ---0 |
\__________/
(GOD)
0
\ | /
/ \ 0 0 0 0 - YES WELCOME BROTHER
\\/ /\/ -|- -|- -|- -|-
\ / / \ / \ / \ / \
(ANGEL AND FOUNDERS OF AMERICA: GABRIEL, THOMAS
JEFFERSON, TOM PAINE, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, A. BURR)
( )
--------
| .| - IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU
| |\
---
(OLIVER HARDY)
_________
| |
| * * |
| * |
| _____ | - WOOOOOOHOOOO!!!! PARTY!!!
| | PARTTYY!!! BRING ME SOME
|_________| BEER!!!! LET'S ROCK!!!
(ME, JUBILANT AT GETTING IN)
the end.
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[ (c) HOE E'ZINE -- http://www.hoe.nu HOE #999, BY AIDS - 01/09/00 ]