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t h e n e o - c o m i n t e r n e l e c t r o n i c m a g z i n e
I n s t a l l m e n t N u m b e r 7 7
WE ARE THE 5th INTERNATIONAL - LANOITANRETNI ht5 EHT ERA EW
September 26th, 1999 - 9991 ,ht62 rebmetpeS
Editor: BMC - CMB :rotidE
Writers: - :sretirW
Gnarly Wayne - enyaW ylranG
BMC - CMB
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P Featured in this installment .b
$ $
$ Funny Words- Gnarly Wayne $
$ Rabmling All Over The Place- BMC $
$ Voyage From Atlantis c.v- BMC
`q p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
EDITOR'S NOTE
Well this weekend marked the Sons of Prozac 24 hour marathon. 24
straight hours of the most terrible music ever heard. Absolutely pointless,
but it was also fun. Thank you to both our listeners who tuned Winamp into
http://24.65.123.117:8000 (it was sweet of you). Since then I have been
quite listless, so I hope these articles will cheer me up. Let's find out.
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P FUNNY WORDS .b
`q by Gnarly Wayne p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
I was just reading my dictionary ... yes, my dictionary and some words came
across that I thought were funny, hence, the name of the article.
drupe : fleshy stone-fruit
- "Henry! Get back here and eat your drupe!"
girth : band put around a horse to hold the saddle
- "My moustache definetly has girth."
leviathan : sea-monster; huge ship; anything large of its kind
- "Oh my lord, Wayne, that thing is a leviathan!"
"heh heh .. I know."
melanic : black
- "I'm just a melanic Asiatic melanic man, like I said before."
xylorimba : large xylophone with an extended range of five octaves
- "You play the xylophone very well, I must say."
"It's a xylorimba, you bastard!"
pedometer : instrument which records the distance walked by a person
- "Hey, Toni, is that a new pedometer you have there?"
apparatchik : a member of the Communist party organization
- "BMC, you wacky apparatchik, eat your drupe."
ergonomics: applied science concerned with the nature and characteristics
of people as they relate to design and activities with the
intention of producing more effective results and greater safety
- "But, Toni, it's simple ergonomics."
gnomon : pin or rod which casts the shadow on a sundial
- "What time is it?"
"I don't know. My gnomon is broken."
"Ouch."
truncheon : short thick club or baton; staff of office
- "BMC beat a man to death with his truncheon."
bludgeon : short thick club
- Not as cool as a truncheon, though.
zombie : African snake diety; in American voodooism, corpse given apperance
of life by sorcery
- "Hey, what are you? A zombie?"
"Kkkaaannnddd iiimmmaaannnn."
haggard : lean; wild-looking
- Toni looked quite haggard after drawing pictures for 73 hours.
All these words and definitions were taken straight out of Webster's
New Compact Format Dictionary. Join me next time when I shall read Roget's
College Thesaurus.
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P RABMLING ALL OVER THE PLACE .b
`q by BMC p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
I was shaving my arms the other day when I thought of something
wacky. I had just killed a guy in the other room, and I still hadn't moved
the body or prayed to Satan. I thought about it for a little while, and then
realized that if I was going to handle my daily murder in such a sloppy
fashion, then maybe I was losing my mind a bit. I went into the other room
and forgot what I was supposed to be doing. I saw the grizled body on the
floor and put my hands around its neck. All of a sudden I snapped to my
senses. Hey what the hell was I doing? I had already killed this person.
Whoops, absent minded me!
I put the body in a plastic bag (cause that's how we roll in Massey),
and then I lofted the body into my incinerator (which is in my attic, but
don't ask me why, cause it's just the way we roll in Massey). I smacked my
dentures a couple of times, and then I went and ate a garlic dill pickle.
I was forgetting something. I tried to remember.
Suddenly, I came to the conclusion that I was actually not alive but
dead. Was I a zombie, or was I a Blackula? I looked at my hands. I didn't
know where I was or what I was doing anymore, but eventually I learned to
accept it. Then I went to sleep, and then I woke up and wrote this article.
After that, I went out for lunch, but I realized by my lack of reflection
in the stream that I was a vampire. Then I realized that it was daytime and
started to die. Upon second thought, I realized that I couldn't see any
reflection of anything in the pond and that I probably wasn't a vampire.
This cheered me up, so I stopped dying and went to the restaurant to order my
favourite meal. My rotting human flesh arrived promptly, and I chomped it
down with as much zeal as a seal eats a meal. Noticing that it was I who ate
the meal, I determined that I was in fact the seal, and tasting the food, my
stomach turned like a wagon wheel. Suddenly, before I knew what was going
on, I was no longer eating human flesh, but a wagon wheel halloween chocolate
marshmellow treat.
"Ha! No treat at all," thought I. I hate those wheels of wagons.
First and most importantly, the name is decieving. They can't be attached
to an axle of any sort, and I imagine they would be terrible for pioneering
through the old west. Reason number one for this being that the old west
isn't the old west anymore. I mean it's inhabited and stuff now. But wait,
shouldn't the old west get older with time? Just like New York... I mean I
understand that they want to promote tourism, but give me a b\reak, it's not
that new anymore. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that it was old.
All of these scattered thoughts went through my mind as I shaved my
arms repeatedly, eventually shaving al the skin off to reveal what was
underneath. OH MY GOD! The things that it revealed are amazing. For the
second time in my life, I realized that I was no normal human being. In
fact, I was a cyborg from the 3rd dimention. My friends came to get me.
Perhaps for the first time that day I came to the conclusion that all of my
pals were cyborgs and I could tell by the smooth mechanical way that they
shaved their arms and my arms too sometimes. Then we all went to Woodstock.
The End.
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P VOYAGE FROM ATLANTIS (chapter v) .b
`q by BMC p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
As we departed, our sub-water boat cut into strange waters, and we
anticipated possible discoveries that could make heroes of us. The water was
extremely thick. It was so thick, in fact, that Komrade B had to walk ahead
of the boat and clear a path with a machette. Soon enough the water became
thin again, and Komrade B stumbled (bumbled, actually) upon an underwater
garden that was being tended to by a bear-like creature. I wondered if the
ancient legends of leaky lake could be true. The thought made me eager, yet
fearful, but needless to say I was excited.
We exited the sub-water boat sowe could talk to the keeper of the
garden. The bearman, who identified himself as an Illiop, was indeed The
Hermit of Leaky Lake. Having been familiar with the legends of Grundo as
well as the standard Illiop folklore, we murdered him and forwarded news of
his death to MAVO.
MAVO's response arrived quickly. As I read the letter aloud, Komrade
B and I learned that our murder of an innocent man had earned us a membership
to the MAVO organization. With the membership, we gained the benefits of
the MAVO spa and fitness club as well as the MAVO country club.
We had to get across a mountain ridge to get there, so we waited
until the guy with the camera-foot-pedal-helicopter came around. We screamed
for help and told him that we were being attacked my MoOn MOnstaRs. When he
landed to aid us to safety, I hit him over the head with a large root, and
Komrdae B strangled the life out of him with some willow branches. Now that
the beautiful foul deed was comitted, we boarded the camera-foot-pedal-copter
and took the high sky toward the darkest promintory on the horizon. MAVO.
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___________________________________________________
|THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S |
|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
| BRING ON THE NIGHT (306) 373-4218 |
| CLUB PARADISE (306) 978-2542 |
| THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME (306) 373-9778 |
|___________________________________________________|
| Website at: http://members.home.com/comintern |
| Email BMC at: thebmc@home.com |
|___________________________________________________|
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Copyright 1999 by The Neo-Comintern #77-09/26/99
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