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    radioactive aardvark dung * issue number seven * released july 17 1996
    without prejudice and explicit reservation of all my rights, UCC 1-207
         rad mega'zine whq is -- erebus - sysop: hooch @ 201-762-1373
     "take this, it makes you feel GOOD, not BAD, GOOD!" - ninja @ 3 am.

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 "introduction"
 submitted by - mercuri

        shutup & listen.  me and handle are busy doing stuff this summer,
 if i told you what, i'd have to kill you.  let's just say my uncle called
 and wanted us to pay a visit to the good general.

        in the mean time we have found little to no time at all to put aside
 and write for our blessed 'zine.  so that's why we bring you, "failed
 submissions"!  yes, all of the stuff YOU the reader submitted, that we hated
 and now we're going to embarass your sorry ass!

        i love america.

        also, before we go own i'd just like to make a brief summary of all
 of rad's acheivments, which, we are pleased to announce, exceed all
 expectations.

        1) we have convinced all of our readers that communists, are infact
           very bad people.

            we beleive that you:

             * atleast once called someone a commie bastard, or thought about
               rad when you heard "communist".
             * now hate communists.

        2) we've noticed trends in other 'zines to call someone a communist
           (i.e. relish, slinky) or mention communism/commies.

        3) after releasing rad six and the famed "santa is a communist"
           article, comparing santa to karl marx and jerry garcia, nbc's
           sitcom "3rd rock from the sun" also called santa jerry garcia.

           coincidence?  fuck no.

        4) formed a militia to which no one applied to.

        5) formed aardvark industries which is currently doing nothing.

        6) established the fact that me and handle can have very poor writing
           and no sense of humor whatsoever.

        7) kill your parents.

        8) offended many people in all walks of life.

        9) handed out and posted anti-communist posters all over town, that
           were taken down the next day by local merchants and cops.

        as you can see this is no small list of accomplishments, we owe it
 all to you, the reader.  now we're going to embarass half of our readers by
 posting their rejected submissions.

        oh yeah.  i'm not editting these -- because i don't want to. 

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 "My mother the 0day communist"
 Submitted by - Trip


 D0od, my mom is a 0day communist. every May first [May Day, a communist hol-
 iday] she sends my grandmother a basket of flowers, with a note saying 
 "from your little commie." i'm like, 0day serious. my mother has some sort
 of mental defect. when she was in high school, she said something in the
 school newspaper to the effect of "I want to move to Greece and join the 
 underground." [This later prevented her for joining the Marines.]
 
 tr1p : "Mom .. why do you send Gramma flowers on May Day?"
 m0m : "Eich leiber!"
 tr1p : "Mom, you are truly a 0day communist."
 m0m : "I know, son."

        * mercuri's note: german's aren't communists.

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 "it's 9:15am, do you know if your brain w0rx?!"
 submitted by - kojak
 
         little kids, running through a field with a big red 
 kite on a string.  one of them stops his/her running to 
 think.  and think freely.  the child's mind wanders... 
 wondering what it's like to be the kite.  to fly with the 
 wind.  it's the imagination of that kid that's flying.
         why is it that when yew get older, you lose your 
 imagination? is it because you've got experience? why does 
 experience make on jaded?
         there seems to be a golden rule in life that with age 
 and experiences comes the inevitable erasure of imagination. 
 only a few great people have ever been able to continue their 
 imaginations as they gain life-experience. those are the 
 philosophers and inventors of the world.
         these men, no matter what happens to them as their 
 life goes by, continue to dream.  i have yet to meet a man who 
 has no lost his dreams, mostly due to a certain cynicism which 
 can be found in his demeanor.  
         why is it that you let your dreams die out? is it 
 because once you've lived in our world for a certain period of 
 time you feel that your dreams are no longer attainable?  when 
 you're a child, you let your mind soar. you enjoy life.  and 
 yet, the cold, harsh realities of life are bound to kick in 
 sometime.  
         as it turns out, the men who do indeed let their 
 imagination fly are more important to society than those who 
 don't let their imaginations wander.  those who don't conform 
 and enjoy their individualism end up being the ones whose 
 thoughts amaze and influence us the most.  so who wouldn't 
 want to keep their individualism?
         the temptation to become a member of society and to 
 immerse yourself in its ways is great.  you don't want to 
 strike out on your own, because, as ralph waldo emerson said, 
 "For noncomformity, the world whips you with its 
 displeasure".  why not become a member of the social class? 
 why not enjoy the benefits of being social? at what cost must 
 you do these things?  at the cost of your mental freedom.  
 generally, whenever you join a group of people, their 
 mentality overtakes yours.  you're forced to think like they 
 do, to believe what they believe, you are no longer give the 
 option to think for yourself.  
         and to most people, there is no harm done in that.  it 
 is the precious few that keep their freedom, that are willing 
 to take the risks, that have forever changed our society.  
 it's the men who are children on the inside that forever 
 inspire us to someday go back to our roots and be true to 
 ourselves yet again.
  
        * mercuri's note: not rad's style.

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 "biff the skater cop"
 submitted by - handle

        "Dude man, like totally freeze!"   A voice thunders from the diaphram
 of Biff Aardvark.  The two kids on skateboards eyes widen in fear but then
 they see that it's just Biff and they relax.  Biff was thirty-four and still
 lived in a small Indiana town of about 20,000.  Some say that Biff has no
 drive or ambition but the truth is only hidden from them.  In all actuality
 I am the most important member of the Corn Pit skating underground.  It's
 my job to buy cigarettes for my fourteen year old friends.  At first I was
 just a normal skater but after a few decades of hard work I have climbed the
 skating ladder.  I was Big Tony's right hand man, and Big Tony was the
 godfather.  The inner circle consisted of five men over thirty me included.
 The rest of the family were high school kids who spent their days smoking.
 We didn't work and all shared one apartment, we begged for change to buy
 packs of cigarettes.  For us to live any other way would be insane, we were
 goodfellas.  That's what we called each other we'd say hey you'd like him
 he's a goodfella.

        I remember it like it was yesterday It was the first day of high
 school and I was an established loser.  I just didn't seem to fit in, but
 then I met Ralph, the man who would change my life most.  He taught me that
 a dork could quite band, get baggy clothes, start smoking, and become a
 skater.  That day after school he took me to the park where the skaters hung
 out.  I was amazed these guys would get yelled at for skating in the park
 then they would make fun of the cop who had just been yelling at them after
 he left.  That was my first taste of the dark side of the soul.  And here I
 am twenty years later and secret skater operative in the police force.
 You see someone on the force has to patrol around the lunch hours at the high
 school to make sure the kids aren't smoking, and by getting me into the
 police force and into that job we alleviated the problem.  The skating
 underground consisted of the skaters and the people over eighteen who would
 go into a store and buy cigarettes for them.  Now the inner circle we were a
 bunch of guys still loyal to the skating cause.  We had everyone's respect
 but one day that suddenly didn't matter anymore.  We got the message Ralph
 was getting made.  In order for someone to get made they have to be pure scum
 so they could trace your ancestors all the way back to the ghetto.  Big
 Tony said that Ralph getting made was like all of us getting made.  That
 would have been all fine and good if my breath didn't smell like marmalade.
 Once George found out that I was a marmaladean they had me tried as a witch
 and I was burned at they stake.  My life didn't end with getting burned at
 the stake though I ran around and put dents in all they're heads.

        * mercuri's note: handle didn't want this for inclusion.

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 "Me, Myself, & I"
 submitted by - Nybar (joltcola's wee brother)

        So anyway I had pre menstrol syndrome, and I am a guy.. so I
was like "Not feeling to good." I asked my cat Vimto what to do. 

She said "Goooooo Askkkk Theeee Magicallll Chippppp Munkkkkkkk"

I said "yeah.. whatever" and kicked her out of the way.

So I was walking through the desert in search of a magical chipmunk
(I asked directions from some wandering Yakks, and they laughed like
hell.. and beat the crap out of me.) After wandering for a while..
I realized I was thirsty.. 

I saw a bar and walked in. The bartender asked "Why the long face?" I 
said "WHAT THE HELL DO I LOOK LIKE?!?! A HORSE?!?!?" and kicked his 
butt. He started to flee and was caught by the jaws of death. So I 
drank all of his beer and passed out.

A few weeks later I realized I had been comatose for a few weeks.
Then I realized all of the other important stuff (where my car keys
were.. how I had P.M.S. .. how I now had no money on me ect ect.)
Then I started wandering. I wandered for many nights and many days.
I grew a beard. I started performing acts of nature w/ out taking off 
my pants. Then.. I took of my (FILTHY) pants and my shirt so I was 
naked. I got sun-burned like a... baked.. ... . potato. 

I started singing "I am gay!!! I AM GAY! OHHHHH YEAHHHH!!! I AM GAY!" 
People started running w/ me (alla Forest Gump) Then Someone got a 
banjo and started singing "Runnnninnggg Faggottttt Runninnin' from the 
fans! RUNNNING FAGGOT RUNNING FREEEEEEE!!!!!!" I came back to my 
senses. I started kicking his butt. Then a giant fight ensued. I came 
out w/ no penis. I (FINALLY!) found the chimpmunk and he said

"Get a professional!" W/ a mad cry, I stepped on him. Then I ate his 
young. Then I went back to my house and got on the crapper and started 
going. Then I passed out from exhaustion. 

I woke up 50 years in the future. I thought to myself (how did this 
happen?) I walked outside and I saw a big fat floating butt. It had a 
brain wedged in between the cheeks and a mouth in the lower parts. 

I said "HEY CHEEK FACE! WHERES THE POOP!" he said 

"HEY HUMAN FACE! WHERES THE SPITTLE!!" I started beating on him. Seeing
as he had no arms.. not much he could do. He tried biting me and 
pooping on me and I just got really mad. A bunch of other naked dudes 
came out and helped me. We killed him.. roasted him and ate him. Then I
ate a poisoned part and went to sleep.
                 <note, this was written by my brother (i'm joltcola)
                  pretty stupid, isn't it?>

        * mercuri's note: this was his pre-poupey days.  hey, we can't win
 'em all.

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 Dear Public,

       You know all of those so called conspiracies out there such as the
Apollo missions were done by actors in a Burbank sound stage and that there 
is a secret society controlling most of the world leaders well that's all 
bull shit there is only one conspiracy it its the conspiracy to make people 
paranoid.  This conspiracy has people stationed in every institution in every 
country they control nothing but the control every thing.  The way they 
control every thing is that the make every one else in the world paranoid by 
spreading these rumors.  These conspirators are gossipy house wives, that kid 
in school who makes stuff up about other kids and the government, the guy at 
work who is always talking about every thing, they all make many people 
paranoid.  This conspiracy has been around for thousands of years.  Its 
leaders have not been discovered yet but this conspiracy is real just look 
at all of the paranoid people out there today.  I know what's really 
going on and now you do.

                                        By,
                                        Anonymous Conspiracy Theorist

        * mercuri's note: that was pretty good.  why didn't i include that
 before.  ah well.  i have no idea who wrote that, i forgot.

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 "ninja logs mercuri on the phone"
 submitted by - ninja

 rad + NRA = world domination.

 why?

 simple mathematics. PUT RAD IN WITH THE NRA AND YOU GET WORLD DOMINATION.
 ITS LIKE 2 + 2!!@# ITS 4!@#! where the first number 2 is RAD magazine,
 and the sencond number 2 is the National Rifle Association. and, of course,
 world domination would be #4. hooked on phonics workd for me.
 ...
 unless, of course, you are stuck in the world of the book _1984_, in which
 the number 5 would be world domination.

 oh, you mean a reason? heh heh. wits never cease.

 kills the communists, beat the hippies, and let the secrets of the penguins
 be known!

 the rest is not yet publically accessable.

 mercuri chews loud.

 buttmeg.

 those wacky zany things that mercuri says.

 <begin phone conversation with mercuri: >

 merc: i might not use this file that youre writing. whats it about?
 me: oh. you'll see.
 merc: LASSIE LASSIE LASSIE!
 me: <tip - tap - tap - tip>
 merc: EVIL!
 <pause>
 merc: what would you do if i farted on your head?
 me: not sure. is this multiple choice?
 merc: no. but it will be on the final.
 <mercuri moans, for what reason is unknown>
 merc: have you ever heard about the great pyramids in egypt? well, anyway,
       the queen fell under a horse and started having sex with it....
 me: what wsa that part about the horse?
 merc: she started having ... WAIT! youre writing down everything i say?

 <THOSE FUCKING COMMIES!!@# THEY HAVE THE COMPUTER BUGGED!@#>

 from now on i will not label who says what. it just goes down here. i dont
 care.
 did you know it is a coincidence that your name is ryan? .. no, why? .. cuz
 my name is jason.
 man.

 i have come to a realization. the best thing to write t-files on is the
 laptop. why you may ask? simple. you can take it to the BATHROOM!@ am i
 the only one that THINKS a lot when hes shitting? or is it just my shit
 that induces thought processing? im not sure. but this advice i spread.

        * mercuri's note: uhm, ninja typed down everything i said while i was
 on the phone.  it makes for interesting nothing, don't you think?

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 "how rad came about"
 submitted by - handle

      One day in a wacky science lab the perfect comedian was to be spawned 
 from a test tube, but the experiment went terribly wrong.  Some crack 
 slipped into the test tube, needless to say this was bad.  The result was a 
 perfect example of science gone awry, Sportif was born.  Sportif wasn't a 
 normal gymbag.  He was bought on layaway by a strapping young lad named Ed.
 Sportif was a happy gym bag, but he hated always having to put up with the 
 shit that Ed dished out.  One day Ed through him in a pool and that was all 
 he could take he couldn't take anymore.  Sportif was enraged, he walked right
 out of that pool and he took all the aardvarks with him. 
     Walking out of Ed's life was the best thing that he could ever have done. 
 Now he was totally free of all restrictions, and he could fulfill his      
 lifelong dream of being a banker.  Sportif tried and tried to be a good  
 banker, but he could never climb up the corporate ladder because of his 
 smart-ass remarks. (and because he was a gymbag)
        Heartbroken Sportif became a scientist, if he had to be human he was 
 going to create the body himself.  For years Sportif tried to spawn a human 
 body, although he came close many times, he never succesfully could.  One 
 faithful night when he was playing with a radiation experiment he was bitten 
 by an aardvark, gaining it's super powers and proportionate strength. 
 Distraught Sportif turned to a life of crime, knocking off liquor stores and 
 killing men named Abdul.  No one could stop him, and he almost picked the 
 entire country of India clean.  Then he began to mutate, more and more he 
 resembled an aardvark, until one day the government had enough they 
 called in the national guard.  Sportif was taken down, and restricted to an 
 island dwelling in the South Pacific. But After a few years passed Sportif 
 contracted leprecy.  His body parts fell off left and right until he  
 degenerated into a pile of poo-poo.  And ever since that day Sportif has been 
 paying for his crimes, imprisoned in a small pile of radioactive aardvark
 dung.

        * mercuri's note: this wasn't included because it's a big inside joke
 and because cerkit had already written why rad came about.

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 "go outside, you fat idiot"
 submitted by - fone bone

    it was a beautiful, warm afternoon, when bill bbs (aka "the milkman")
woke up.  he had stayed up all night calling his favourite bbses.
according to the checklist he kept beside his monitor, he had called them
all within his standards, which was a minimum of 2 calls a day.

    after turning on his computer, he realized what a nice day it was.
he thought that he'd treat himself to some fresh air, and opened a window.
then he went into telix and flagged all 40 bbses in his dialing directory.
"boy, maybe ill be able to call them all thrice" bob imagined to himself.
it had always been a life long dream to call _every_ bbs in his area code
twice. that would indeed be incredible fun.

    his first favourite bbs was one called "the Shareware train". he loved
to call and read all the new fidonet mail, then scan through the file
directories. you see, bob collected shareware in his spare time (which isnt
very plentiful i might add). the Shareware train was the first bbs in his
dialing directory, and, as usual, it wasnt busy.

CONNECT 14400
InterMail 2.29d
Press Escape twice for Renegade

Loading Renegade..


Ansi detected.

              The Renegade Bulletin Board System Version 10-04 Exp
           Copyright (C) 1991-1994 by Cott Lang. All Rights Reserved


                 One of Smithton's largest Renegade boards.

              ��� � � ��  ���� � � ��� ��� �� �   � ��� ��� ��
               �  ��� ��  ���� ��� ��� ��� �� �   � ��� ��� ��
               �  � � ��  ���� � � � � � � �� ����� � � � � ��

             24hrs/7days
                              ��� ��� ��� � ���
            FidoNet 1:132/501  �  ��� ��� � � �  TeensNet: 43:2352/6
            KoolNet 18:432/42  �  � � � � � � �  ShareNet: 53:432/543
                               �  � � � � � � �

             - THOUSANDS of shareware files, games, doors, utils
               OS/2, Win, DOS support 2.5 gig online / off-line!

             - Hundreds upon THOUSANDS of new messages and mail
               in 150+ popular conferences / requested echo areas
               daily from FidoNet and other networks!

             - Registered LORD, BRE, Falcons Eye, Usurper, TW2002.


[CONNECT 14400/38400/ARQ] [Node 1]
[3:56 pm/02/01/96]
Enter your name or account ID: BOB BBS

ReneNews v1.3 ***UNREGISTERED***

From: SysOp
Topic: Problem

    We've had numerous complaints from several users, who claim to
have been harrased in email.  I'd ask that if you know anything about
it, to let me know, as I have a moral obligation not to read email,
for any reason.

    Also, we have a new CD-ROM added!  This might make the BBS slower,
but it'll let us have access to UNLIMITED shareware!

Timer 1..2..3..4..5..done!

Returning to <UNREGISTERED BBS>..

                -= Renegade BBS =-
                  -= Main Menu =-

    (C)all Sysop              (D)oors
    (M)essage menu            (G)oodbye
    (F)ile menu               (?) Help

Main menu: C

Why would you like to speak with the SysOp?
: can i have some more file points?

<beep> <beep> <beep>

The SysOp is here!

Hi Bill.  What's new today?

i need file points!!!  when i turned 18 last week, and got access to your
adult areas, i downloaded 45 megs, and now i dont have any file points!

Oh dear.  My adult section is quite good though, isn't it?  Almost worth
the file points.  Let me think.  I really need a copy of unregistered
Sopwith version 3.  If you can find it, I'll give you LEECH access for a
week.  How's that?

WOW!!!!!!!!! Leech access is COOL!!  OKAY you're on!

Ok then, TTYL.

The SysOp is gone!

Main menu: /G

Thank you for calling, Bill Wentgate.

You have used up: 6 minutes.

Goodb
     NO CARRIER


   Immediately, Bill called up his best friend, Luke.  He knew that Luke
had just bought a new Shareware CD-ROM Diskette, and might have Sopwith 3.

"Hi is Luke there please?"

"Yes, this is Luke.  Hi Bill, what can I do you for?"

"Luke, you have to check your Shareware CD for an unregistered game called
Sopwith 3.  It's urgent!  If you can find it, I'll get a leech account on
the Shareware train and you can use it!!!"

"WOO HOO!! That's great! Hold on.."

   Patiently, Bill waited 10 minutes, listening to the tapping of keys and
computer beeps in the far background.

"I'm back!  I searched both my CD's, and my entire harddrive using
MS-FileFind. You know, the program my parents bought me for my birthday?"

"Oh no!  We have to find it!!  The SysOp of the Shareware train needs it
a lot!  What will we ever do????"

  Will Bill ever find Sopwith, and get to u/d from his local shareware
BBS till his heart's content?  Stay tuned till next month, where the
suspense continues..!

        * mercuri's note: too fucking boring.  and not that funny.

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 "handle is insane"
 submitted by - handle

 For a few years now I've been collecting these lyrics in my spare time.  It
 was really hard I had to listen to these songs over and over, but I'm finally
 done.  I've seen a few of these lyrics before but now there all put together
 in one place. (and I changed a few that were wrong)  If I've got a few of the
 lyrics wrong sorry, nobody's perfect.  I mean jeeze I tried my best ya fucker.


 Mares eat oats and does eat oats,
 and little lambs eat ivey.
 A kid'll eat ivey to. Wouldn't you? ---------{ suicide? }
 Ya baby, a kid'll eat ivey to wouldn't you?


 Where is thumpkin?  Where is thumpkin?
 Here I am. Here I am.
 How are you today sir?
 Very well I thank you.-----------------{ his realationship with Shelly? }
 Run away, run away.  ------------{ suicide again? }
 
 This is the song that doesn't end.
 Yes it goes on and on my friend. ----------{ his frustration with life? }
 DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA
 or something

        * mercuri's note: i titled this one.  he's not insane, he's just
 fucking retarded sometimes.

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 "boom.  you're dumb."
 by - mogel
 
         if i had to get pissy about one particular thing in life foremostly
 it would have to be anti-matter.  what the hell is up with that, huh?

         i'm pointlessly pointing at your mom & dad & laughing like a crazy
 man from new zealand that had one too many bowls of oriental flavored ramen,
 motherfucker, yeah, yeah .. eat it up, YUM-YUM-IN-MY-TUM-TUM.  & have you
 ever actually MET anyone from new zealand?  huh?  how do we know that it
 actually exists?  how do we know that africa actually exists?  it could be a
 big lie.  every fuckin' person on the planet is talking about you behind your
 back, plotting out the games they're going to play with you, for the sole
 reason to guide your existence.  this ain't no paranoia 'cause i've got it
 all worked out.  you're reading this & you're saying "how silly of mogel!"
 but the big JOKE is that you're just dumb.  shut don't go up, prices do.
 take my advice & shut up, too.

         how unfortunate for your bladder that i've kidnapped your spleen.
 now all those white blood cells are spewing all over the floor and the bone
 marrow is crankin' up production and needs some extra blood and you just ran
 a marathon and oops you pissed your pants and now you're quite dead.
 
         but, in darkness eternal lie, ergo yadda death may die.
 
         kinda sucks that way, eh?  But don't worry, because we've got a
 special deal for you.  The "made death your friend" kit.  all you need is an
 ankh, a special RaD scythe, and an id to prove you're over 21 and can get
 into all the meat puppet shows at the aragon.

         fuck that.  forget your troubles, gulp some mr. pibbs, & piss on your
 dog.  everyone's watching, so why not?

        * mercuri's note: speaks for itself. not literally, though, you dolt.

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 "Revenge of the Washington State Hicks"
 submitted by - mistawho

        Before I tell you the horror of my life, you have to understand what
I am living in.  It's a damned hell, sure, I like to hang my pants down to
my knees, and have a binkie hanging out of my mouth.  It's my style, but the
locals don't agree with it, and they think it was time for them to extract
a bit of revenge from the state.  Don't ask me why, but somehow I got stuck
in the middle of it.
        Now that you understand my predicament, let me get on with this ever
ever so horrifying story.  I usually get a double gulp every other day, so
I can stay up all night and finish my homework.  So I strapped up my good
old clobber knockers and buttoned up my coat, grabbed $1.07 and headed out
the door to the local 7-11.  Upon my arrival, I noticed there were an above
average amount of chevy trucks across the street at the local tavern, and I
could hear "yaaaaaaaa-hoooo-hooo-hooo" every three seconds.  Just on the 
five minute visit to the 7-11, the cops arrived forty-two times.  Not being
sure of the hicks' intentions, I quickly gathered up my double gulp and 
headed for the door, then it happen.
        I was minding my own business, trying to avoid contact, and trying to
talk as normal as I could with my pants hanging half way down like I just 
took a giant shit in them, when they let out the meanest war cry I have ever
heard in my life.
        "REVENGE AGAINST THE WIGGERS, REVENGE, GRAB YOUR DOUBLE BARREL SHOT-
GUNS AND TAKE THEM DOWN."
        A quick glance to both directions indicated that the drunk hicks were
indeed talking about myself.  Now, with a pop in hand, and nothing else on 
my person, there wasn't much that I could do.  With only one option left, I
ran like Forest Gump on crack and gently put my double gulp on the ground,
thinking to myself that I will come back and get it when I'm safe.
        I thought I lost them, then I saw the natural attraction a hick, road
signs without shotgun holes in them, and the road was a mile long, with at
least 100 of them down the stretch.  I was in some serious trouble, and the
woods were too thick for me to work my war through.  Yet, I had to make my 
way through the road, down to the end, and it was a long ways to go.  I pulled
my pants up quick like and started to run like Forest again, this time with
rhythm, hey, I'm white, there is only so much rhythm that one white man can
have.  
        It was me against fifty hicks, what could I do?  I had to think quick,
my feet were not going to beat a bunch of chevy trucks, specially with at 
least half of the people behind the wheel drunk from cheap malt liquor.  
Noticing the hell that I had to go through, I ditched into the woods, and 
waited for the trucks to pass by.
        I thought for a minute that I would have a heart attack just from the
terror I saw.  Hicks flying down the road, shooting at all the trees and road
signs in their sight.  It was a horrible display of un-needed violence against
the government's property, and I had to do something about it.  I mean, with-
out my patriotic duty, I would be nothing if not a coward.
        I sucked in my stomach, stuck out my chest, pulled up my pants, and
tucked in my shirt, and walked out to the road.  Thinking of the choice that
I just bestowed onto myself, I gave it a second thought.  I made this big
decision on my own, and I am going to live with it.
        The road seemed clear, but I was still not sure, than I saw it.  A
pair of round headlights, with the brights on.  On the side that I was on, I
saw a hick hanging out of the window with the head of a moose in his hands,
and it still had the antlers.  With no means of getting impaled on my small
adventure to get a single pop, I ducked under the attempt, and ran back to 
7-11 and grabbed my pop.  Taking the back roads, I made it to my house, but
saw that hicks were waiting outside for me, armed with chewing tobacco and
double barrel shotguns, and of course, moose heads.  
        After I quietly soiled my dickies, I let out a yelp, and started to
charge them, with my hands flying about like a bird.  I thought, what the 
hell, maybe if I act insane, they'll just go away, but it wasn't that way.
I heard a pop, and then a moose head was flying at me, and I was impaled with-
out a word.  The last thing I could remember is being drug off into the truck
before they skinned me alive.
        So how the fuck am I writing this?  God decided that I had to get this
horrible occurrence to all people of America, so he gave me an ISDN line conn-
ection to earth, and a 386 with windows and a comm program and a 300 baud
modem.  Now that I have finished this, my time with mortality is up, but
remember, YOU CAN BE SAVED, AVOID THE WRATH OF THE WASHINGTON STATE HICKS!@$#

        -wIGGER ONe [hoot]

 ============================================================================
 ============================================================================

 "M1ln3t Hax0ring f0r th3 n0v1c3"
 submitted by - moft?


I think that its my duty to inform you how incredibly lax our nation's
military computers are.  Just look at what I did today.  I got on root's
account on the NCSC (national computer security council).  Part of the NSA.


=============================================================================


trying...
Connected DOCKMASTER.NCSC.MIL
escape key is '^]'

DOCKMASTER.NCSC.MIL

Login: root
password:

Login incorrect

Login: root
password:


	
***** welcome to DOCKMASTER ******



NCSC post operations number 403.4

You have new mail.

# mail

(1) from: borris.sovietparty.ru

> 1

From: Borris Yurniof
Title: It's all set up.


	
** Message Begins ***




Hello comrade.  The Deal is in place.  Everything is running smoothly.
I will have your money under the bridge at 11:00 pm.  Goodbye.

Borris :0


	
** Message Ends ***



# cd /root
# ls

bigcock.jpg 12yrold.gif 11boysuck.gif anarchistcookbook.txt
HowToBlowUpShit.TxT GovErMentDowNFall.By.Tim.McVeigh.DOC

# rm *
# who

Yankoff      ttyp1
Borris       ttyp2  
ToughGuy     ttyp0
EyeSpy       ttyR4  (from: grasko.ru)
mao          ttyl4  (from: hung.ch)
pengo        ttyl3  (from: asroh.de)
condor       ttyR7  (from: fed.prison.com)

# w

Yankoff    (lynx http://www.hotsex.com)
Borris     (cat /usr/plans/military/topsecret/SDI/StarWars.Plans.DOC)
ToughGuy   (ytalk creed@nexxus.novasys.com)
EyeSpy     (cat /usr/plans/military/nuclear/HYDRO-187.plans.DOC)
mao        (rm /dev/*)
pengo      (ytalk blasspo@nitasha.KGB.ru)
condor     (rlogin whitehouse.gov -l president)

# rmuser EyeSpy

# rm / -r -f

Connection closed.


=============================================================================


Ok, so I didn't really hack into the NCSC.  Well anyway, can you find the
famous hax0rs in there?  First person to identify them to me gets a free
k0d3.  

        * mercuri's note: i beleive m0ft wrote this.  not sure.  if he did,
 this score is NOW EVEN.  muhahaha. 

 ============================================================================
 ============================================================================

 "monkeys ate my rad article"
 submitted by - hal08

(warning, this story containes extreme violence, no point,
and an unhappy ending.)

     Welcome to the sperm that flows from gods penis
(hal08)'s rendition of

(cheep drum roll goes here)

          Zombies ate my neigbors.

     I think i stole the idea, but who the fuck cares, its
all good correct?

     I awoke, turned the light on, had a pop tart, and
brushed my teeth.  I figured it was a normal day, but when i
showed up at the bus stop.  No one was there

SHRIEK

the horror.  I started knocking on doors, and people just
wouldnt show up.  I was in a nightmare.

I looked down the road, saw mrs. randall, my neighbor, in the
mouth of a zombie.  This is when i realized,

               ZOMBIES ATE MY NEIGHBORS.

It turned out it was halloween, and i had no school, and all
the people were out trick-or-treeting.  Wich sucks anyway,
candy makes my teeth rot.

FUCK!@?

those mary janes you get suck anyways.

        * mercuri's note: ooooook.

 ============================================================================
 ============================================================================

 "sick"
 submitted by - handle

   I woke up yesterday feeling like crap, I knew something was wrong but I 
 just couldn't figure out what.  I looked outside, the snow was still on the 
 ground from the day before.  I cursed to myself, I knew it was to be expected 
 because after all it was December.  But I really hate cold weather, I hate 
 this place.  I hate that there's nothing to do in this town, and I hate that 
 I don't yet have my drivers license to go looking for something to do.  But
 most of all I hate that even if I did there would be nothing to do because 
 I'm me and things simply couldn't work out.  
   I solemly got into the shower and slipped into my daily routine.  After 
 being in the shower for about four minutes I vomitted.  I bent over and I
 regurgitated last night's dinner into the drain, I knew I was feeling crappy
 the previous night when I went to bed.  After cleaning everything up and 
 getting dressed I went back up to bed, greatful that my mom was letting me
 stay home from school.  I don't think I could have faced the world today
 because the world was exactly what I was so sick of.  Not the whole world of
 course, just my world.
   I layed in bed the rest of the day, watching talk shows on the three 
 channels that come in up here.  I was unbelievably tired, but I couldn't seem
 to get to sleep.  I never could go to sleep during the day.  I tried to 
 listen to music and read but nothing could keep me entertained, no matter
 what I did it just didn't seem to fulfill me.  So I just layed there with my
 head buried in my pillows for a couple of hours.  I tried to eat but my 
 digestive track decided that he didn't want me to so he gave me back the 
 food. I just layed there for the rest of the day, ocasionally rolling over to
 watch a bit of TV, but it couldn't keep my attention the only thing I could
 do was lay.  The laying didn't make me happy or keep me entertained but it
 kind of put me in a state of limbo where my only surroundings were lack of
 effort.  I went to bed at nine thirty deciding that I would need a lot of 
 sleep if I was going to get up at six the next morning and go to school.  I 
 was sick after all, sleep would help me to face the world tomorrow.
 I woke up the next morning at 10:00.  I still don't know why my mom broke 
 down and let me stay home for two days.  I would of asked her but she wasn't 
 here, she hardly ever is during the day.  I went back to my bed and layed 
 down.  The rest of the morning I just layed there and tried to entertain 
 myself watching the pathetic people on daytime talk shows.  At the time I 
 couldn't believe how pathetic some people are, but then I looked at myself
 and what I had been doing for the past few days.  Around 2:00 I tried eating
 again and to my surprise it went down and stayed down.  Around 2:30 I 
 started feeling a little more energy and at 3:00 I didn't know what was going 
 on I was actually feeling chipper.  Looking back I realized I'd been feeling
 pretty good for a while but I had just now noticed. 
   I put on my headphones and listened to some of my CD's. I actually got into
 it kinda, that hasn't happened in a while.  I got up and went down stairs, 
 nobody was home yet but I saw something out of the corner of my eye that 
 caught my attention. Green.  I went to the window and saw that about 95% of
 the snow on the ground had melted and the grass was bright green.  I feel 
 pretty content now.  Even though this might not be the exact place I want to
 be, it's not so bad.  Really I've got things pretty damn good.  I had just 
 gotten so used to my life it started to look like hell.  I wonder now if
 I was ever really sick.  I know that this is probably just a little mood 
 swing and that things will get back to normal soon, but I don't care I liked 
 to see that even if just for a while things can work out.  At the time being
 I feel like a new man and after all the present is really all that matters.
   I don't know why but when I was thinking these things they seemed so 
 spiritual and enlightening, and now seeing them up on a screen they just  
 seem like some of the trivial little thoughts we all have every now and then.
 I still don't feel sick, so I think I'll get dressed and live the rest of 
 the day until I have to go to school tomorrow.  After all it is Friday and
 after tomorrow I get two weeks off for Christmas vacation.
 
 ::WARNING! Nothing about this is remotely suicidal, and I am not a suicidal
 person.  I just read this over and realized that it kind of sounds like I was  
 about to commit suicide.  This all happened over the period of about a day 
 and a half.  I'm not like this totally depressed person, it's just how I
 felt for this very little period of time in my life.  I was just feeling a 
 little depressed, that's it.  It's over now I've gone back to my normal happy 
 cooky, crazy self.  Dang am I relieved I haven't been able to write comedy 
 for a couple of days and it was starting to worry me.  Maybe I just needed  
 to write something serious for once.  I really feel better because of it::

 did I mention I was just a little depressed for a while and that's it?
_________________________________________________________________________________

 note from handle- I wrote this about an hour ago, and it turns out I really 
 am very sick, I puked out everything I ate  Turns out this entire thing was 
 completely out of line, go figure.

        * mercuri's note: more depressing than most enemas.

 ============================================================================
 ============================================================================

 "Stinky cheese and the seven messy petes"
 submitted by - JoltCola

        Stinky cheese was a very stinky girl. all the petes in the land 
 wanted her hand in matrimony. one day her father said that the seven
 messiest petes in the land would have a contest to see who would marry
 stinky cheese.  
        Everyone knew who the seven messiest petes were, because they were so
 damn messy!@ some stupid little petes said they were messier than the 7,
 but they were easily crushed. the 7 were now ready to go to stinky cheese
 and her father's house.
        The seven messiest petes went to stinky cheese and her father's house
 for the final test. none of them knew what the test was, but they knew
 it would be difficult. the seven messy petes stood before stinky's father
 awaiting their test. the father announced "BLAH!@# none of you are messy!
 go home. I WILL MARRY MY DAUGHTER!! muwahaha. incest is fun. [see rad #4
 for details on this]" 
        The seven messy petes were dissappointed. they were mad and sad there
 was angst in the air. the petes swore revenge!@ they were really pissed!  

        "Grrr." said messy pete #3
        "we must think of a plan!@" said messy pete #1
 "gah, i have a plan!@# come close and i'll tell you!" said messy pete #4
 so all the messy petes huddled close and  listen to his plan. when he was
 done they all look at him and said, "you're a GENIUS!@" all the petes got
 into the messy mobile and drove towards stinky cheese's house.
 
 ...
 Stinky cheese looked out her window and sighed. she thought to herself, 
 "i don't like being married to my father. i would much rather be married
 to a messy pete. guh, angst." while gazing out her window she saw the messy
 mobile coming towards her house. she squealed in delight and thought to herself
 "the messy petes are here to rescue me! j0y!@#" 
 
 ...
 The petes were nervous as they approached the home of stinky cheese and her
 father[husband]. when stinky cheese's father saw the messy mobile he was angry
 and he threw large colored blocks at the messy mobile, but their dodging was 
 too good and he did not hit them once. he ran inside in phear.
 
 ...
 The petes laughed at stinky's father's pathetic attemp to stop them. they drove
 up to the doorstep and got out of the messy mobile. they knocked down the door
 and stepped into the house. there was stinky's father whimpering "don't kill 
 me! i phear your messiness." they tied him up and let messy pete #4's pet goat
 guard him. 
 
 ...
 Stinky cheese heard noises from downstairs and she knew something was going on
 when the seven messy petes burst through her door. she was delighted. she wailed,
 "mess petes! i love you!" to this they walked up to her and sliced her into 7
 equal parts and ate her. 

 fin.

 moral of the story: JoltCola is a BAD writer.

        * mercuri's note: see: "mortal of the story".

 ============================================================================
 ============================================================================

                  HOWARD THE MAGICAL CHIMPMUNK  -Nybar!!
             I am here to obsesss about the following 


                1. Semen
                2. The web decency act you fucking asshole
                3. Cats Cats Cats Cats Cats
                4. Chipmunks
              --------------------------------

        If there is somehow a story in all of this.. all for the better.

           By the stars.. my cats name is nybar.
           U are a non semen jerk!!!!
           YOU EAT BEANS IN IDAHO!

           Cats are the best!!!!!!!!!!!!!
           Are you all agreed?!?!
           The web deceny act sucks!!
           Sure CHIPMUNKS ROCK!

           <the seven arguements>
          <end of completely pointless and stupid obsessive junk.. onto the
          story> &{body}amp;{body}amp;
          {body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;&{body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;{body}amp;$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
                         1:20 PM
                          &/ <-DISCO MAN!!
                         /|
                         / \
           Howard The Magical Chipmunk woke up to a REALLYYY!! bad hangover
   (he had been beer-bonging w/ vimto and me.) He really thought he shouldn't
   do that anymore.. seeing as how his table was ruined and he felt like shit.
    He had some coffee mixed w/ the powdery stuff in tylenol for adults and
   was ready to start his day. He decided to watch the TV.
                         2:30 PM
                          &  <-DISCO IS DYING!!
                        / | \
                         / \
    When flipping channels.. he came to Nickleodeen. It said it was nick junior.
  He decided "What the `ell" and watched it anyway. It said that "The Busy
 World of Richard Scary" was next. He watched it and found that the star was
 a Hopping penis. He smiled to himself and thought "Kids are watching this
 Porno junk?! Well, I guess that there were some media outlets that republican
dictators haven't crushed yet. He managed to watch 3 hrs of TV.
                       5:30 PM 
                       __  &   __  <-NEARLY DEAD!!!
                          /- )   
                        /  - )
                      |  | - )
  He took some lsd and went on a drug trip. The voices in his head told
  him to invite everyone over for some beer bonging except w/ 165 proof
  rum.    They all came and he managed to kill another table (along
      w/ 4 bottles of rum.)
     He woke up at 12:00 am. Having nothing else to do..
    he played Video games for until 3.. always chanting "Must.. defeat...
   Giant.... Space.... Caterpillar." He passed out at 3.
                       5:30 AM
             |  ^^  ^^^^|
             | RIP DISCO|     
             |_________ | ^^^^^/^^^/^^^^^^^^^^^^^^|
                            & _----\              |
                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
            He was awakend by someone shaking him. It was nybar's owner
          Nybar. He was really sunburned and peeling, he had a big beard
          and he was complety NAKED! He asked something about pms.
         Yawning.. Howard said "Seek professional help."
          Before he knew it.. he was dead. That Wierd guy had stepped on him.
        He was as dead as disco.

        <I would like to thank myself for writing one of the worst
         Stories ever.>

        * mercuri's note: oh yeah!  more nybar. (sarcasm)

 ============================================================================
 ============================================================================

 R4d's Lucky White dot.
 submitted by - Ibanez

         /-----------------\ 
       /                     \
     /                         \
   /                             \
   |                             |
   |                             |
   |                             |
   |                             |
   |                             |
   |                             |
   \                             /
     \                         /
       \                     /
         \-----------------/

The White dot above has been blessed, and some of our best psychic readers,
Magicians, Satanists, and Communists, have put all there psychic ora
into this dot.

Follow these steps to achieve all your dreams and desires.

1. Print this out, and cut out the white dot.
2. Put the dot in your jockstrap and piss your pants.
3. Wait till your jock tries, take it out, then wipe your ass with it.
4. By now, you should have a really disgusting piece of paper (if not,
   repeat steps 1-3 again.)
5. Finally, wrap it  in a box, and give it to your mother as a gift. 

Wait three days, and repeat steps 1-5 12 times.
 
        * mercuri's note: #1, the dot is not white.  #2, we dont have
 communists, and dead ones are that much help.

 ============================================================================
 ============================================================================

 "wisconsin - we know how to have fun!"
  submitted by - wisconson veteran; ideal

        hi, being from wisconsin, i think i should let you all in on a typical day
here in the land of cows and cheese.  the reason i feel this is so important
is because most people that live outside of the dairy state don't realize the
extremely fun lives we have.  so sit back, relax, and i'll take you on an
unforgettable journey through wisconsin.

        -dawn-

      the first thing i did was wake up at approximately 3:00 a.m. and rolled
off the bails of hay that i sleep on.  i then went out to the old swimming
hole and had myself a good, old fashioned bath.  when i finished my bath, i
pulled on my trousers and walked into the barn.

        the cows in the barn bid me a healthy good morning.  "moo!" they said

        "Moo." i groaned back.

        "MoooO! they replied.

        "MOOO!" i said with much more emphasis than my first attempt at idle
cow chit-chat.

        heh, i bet you didn't know that all people who live in wisconsin can
speak cow!

        after my morning cow chat and my milking pep talk, i pulled on my
special grip, custom made, milking gloves.  when the gloves were secure, i
announced to the cows: "OK, i'm gonna pull on your udders now!"  (that always
gets them excited)

        i usually finish the milking process at 9 a.m.  it takes a while
because we have 136 cows and 3 goats (who also speak cow, so it saves me some
time since i can't speak goat)  anyways, when that's all done, i have some
free time!  see, i don't go to school because the only thing that people in
wisconsin ever do for a profession is make cheese and bottle milk.  for my
free time, i usually grab the old pitchfork and bail hay.  bailing hay is not
only a past-time here in wisconsin, it's a sport!  in fact, when i used to
attend my local high school, i was on the varsity hay-bailing team.  i was
honored with many cheese blocks and once, i also recieved a scholorship to
BBUC (Billy Bob's University of Cheese).  graduation from the university came
easy to me since i had been 'learned in the ways of cheese making since i was
a li'l tike.

        after bailing hay for four hours, i finally broke a sweat.  it was
twelve o'clock!  time for lunch!  I walked into the kitchen and the aroma of
my mother's cooking made my mouth salivate with yearning anticipation.  she
was making my favorite meal: toasted cheese sandwiches on cheese bread,
macaroni and cheese, cheese strips, cheese and macaroni, and of course...
milk!  i ate the wide variety of food, drank 6 glasses of freshly squeezed
milk, and thanked my mother for the meal.

        the time had come for my daily journey to the general store where i
like to participate in some good, old fashioned, wisconsin comMerce.  as i
opened the cracked wooden door to 'Gunter's General Goods', the trustworthy
strip of jingle bells that were placed strategically above the door sang
their warm song of welcome.  "Hey there Kev!" said Gunter.  "Is it one o'clock
already??"

        "Moo!" i answered, not realizing that i was still speaking in my cow
dialect.

        "Moo." Gunter said.  I guess he was being polite, so he started to
speak cow also.  Gunter always lived by the rule that the customer is always
right.

        "MoOo?" i asked.

        "Mooo. (snort) (grunt) MOOO!" Gunter retorted.

        "Moo. Moo. MOO?"

        "Mooooooooooo."

        "Moo." I approved.

        after the brief conversation, i gave Gunter my money and took what i
had purchased: a can of bacon grease, a 50' rope, and a can of red paint.
with my belongings in my arms, i started down the dirt road towards my
family's farm.  boy, me and tom were sure gonna have fun that night!

        when i passed our field of wheat, i saw my father working on the
tractor, which had obviously broken down again.  i heard the faint sound of
my father's cursing and that sparked my interest.  "hey pappy! what's wrong
with the tractor this time?" i questioned. (this time in normal english).

        "i ran over one of those god damn bloodhounds again!  i'm gonna kill
Smitty if he can't control his mutts!" my father explained.

        Smitty is our closest neighbor.  he's an old man who owns about 50
cows and 2000 bloodhounds.  rumor has it, that when his wife passed away, he
took up quite a romantic intrest in bloodhounds.  every once in a while, we
would find on of those pooches harassing our cows or underneath the front
wheels of our tractor like today.  we all hated Smitty.  he never evin milked
his cows!  in fact, one of his prized heffers died from milk constapation.

        anyways, i spent the rest of the daylight hours mixing and preparing
my cheese block that i was going to enter into the big expo next weekend.
this year, i am sculpting my cheese block to look exactly like the town's
local hero: Bessie the Wonder Cow.  my cheese block would be an exact
representation complete with cape and everything!  it's sure to win first
prize!

        -5 hours later-

        at seven o'clock p.m., i sat down at the dinner table and waited for
the evenin' meal.  what i wasn't expectin' was the surprise that pappy brought
in.  he had drugged' the big radio from the garage into the house.  he's been
chargin' up the battery for about a month.  that means we would be able to
listen to a whole half hour of radio!

        well, dinner was wonderfully apetizing and cheesy as usual and we
ended up listening to the news about some kinda "unicycle bomber."  i didn't
pay too much attention though.  i was too excited about the fun my friend tom
and i were going to have that night.  i grabbed my can and pulled it so that
the wire running out of the bottom of it was taut.  i felt a tug from accross
the town which meant that tom had picked up.  we spoke to each other through
our cans and i told him that i would be ready in five minutes.

        i hurried into the barn and gathered the supplies that i bought
earlier at the store.  i prepared the rope by cutting it into 3 different
lengths.  then, it was off to Smitty's farm to meet Tom.

        Now, you've all heard of cow-tipping right?  well, here in wisconsin,
we put a new twist on that past-time.  to play with the cheese heads, it takes
skill.

        when i arrived at Smitty's farm, tom had already picked out a cow and
was in the process of wrestling it to the ground.  "come on Kev!" Tom shouted.
"Git over here and tie the mouth!"

        "MOOOOOOO!#@" the cow cried as i rushed over and tied the shortest
piece of rope around its mouth.  "MOO--mphsjfghhh!#@#"

        "she was a tough one!  I'm glad you got here when you did!" said Tom
while trying to catch his breath.  he was obviously exhausted from the
romp-in-the-mud he had with the cow.

        we both continued to tie the remaining pieces of rope around the cows
legs, then took the dangling ends of the ropes and fastened them around two
trees that were that were about twelve feet apart.  the cow was silenced and
secure!  We made sure that there was no possible way that the cow could escape 
our binds.  It was standing there, between two large trees, unable to wiggle even
one centimeter.  now all we had to do was prepare the runway.  Tom and i took 
the can of bacon grease and smeared it all over the grass in front of the cow.
This made the ground extremely slippery.

	Long past were the days where we would paint a bullseye on the cow.
We had been playing this game for years and we both knew how many points each 
part of the cow was worth.  The object of this game (we called it red-cow simply 
because of the fact we used red paint) was to pick a starting position that
was at least 100 feet away from the cow.  Once the starting position is picked, 
you would run towards the cow as fast as you could.  When you reached the patch
of grass that was smothered with bacon grease, you would slip on it as if it were
an old slip-and-slide.  As you are sliding towards the cow, you must raise your
hands (which are covered in red paint) and take aim.  When you hit the cow, you
will leave a distinct red mark on it.  Depending on where the red mark is, you are
awarded a certain number of points.  The person with the most points at the end of 
the night, was the winner.

	we were ready to start the night's festivities.  Tom picked a random 
starting position on the grass.  "Yaw ready Kev?" he asked.

        "ayup!" i said, chewing on my cheese curds and keeping a steady eye on
Tom.

        "here i go!" he screamed.  as he starte to accelerate towards the cow.

      [SCHLUUPP!]  Tom hit the cow full force, leaving red marks on it's side.

        "wow! first run and you got 50 points?" i exclaimed.  determined to
beat his score, i soaked my hands in red paint and took my turn.

        [SCHLUWAP!]  "woo hoo!  100 points! i got her in her eye!!!"  

        [SCHLWALP!]

        those were the only sounds heard for the next two hours as we enjoyed
our silent competition.

        [CHLUUP!]

        [SHLAUOP!]

        [SCHLOOOP] (THUD)

        "damn!" i had knocked over the cow, which resulted in a loss of 25 points.
luckily, we had devised such a clever way of tying up cows that all we had to
do was pull on the ropes and the cow would pop up like toast.  good thing too, 
becuase cows can get very heavy at times.  so, the game went on...

        [SCHLOUP!]

        [SCHWAWUP!]

        at the end of the night, i had won the red-cow game of that night.
Tom and i parted with a handshake and a straight face, but we both had the
hidden anticipation of our next competition.

        when i arrived home, i had my night-time snack of cheese-milk and then
i, quite literally, hit the hay.

        -dusk-

        well, that's a typical day for me here in wisconsin!  as you can see,
i have an exciting day ahead of me tomorrow so i must say goodbye.

        love and cheese!

        -fin

        * mercuri's note: this was too much like one of handle's articles
 about indiana, AND it was dumb.  AND what the fuck was that red paint thing
 about?

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        well that's it for this issue.  hope you enjoyed it, and didn't just
 skim through it.  *AHEM*

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 radioactive aardvark dung * a monthly 'zine published by aardvark industries
   president/head editor/writer * mercuri * vice-president/writer * handle
        raD mega'zine whq is * erebus * sysop * hooch @ 201-762-1373
          ftp.etext.org /pub/Zines/RAD * rad@erebus.magsystems.com
                      be sure to read rad-dist.ro
                 http://pla-net.net/corp/zineworld/rad/

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