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"It was my only wish to rise above these jealous coward mother fuckers I dispise" - 2pac.
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ThE SyNdiCaTE Of LoNdoN JouRNAL - SOL (EST: 1992) - "Giving you the Ph34r since dat lee7 year"
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www.sanction.org.uk/sol/soljo.html
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-=.ThE SoLJo.=-
:ThE SyNdiCaTe Of LoNDoN JoUrNal:
:Number #9:
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Brought to You By
Fallen Angels Publishing
(Part of The Syndicate Of London)
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:DO NOT READ DIRECT FROM THE WEBSITE! DOWNLOAD ME NOW!:
:September/October 00, 9th Release (Blow Us) "No Submission, No Time Keeping":
:"Rule Three: What Goes Around, Comes around.":
:Subscriptions. Submissions. And Sub Seven Server's to:
:sol@sanction.org.uk:
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ThE SyNdiCaTe Of LoNdoN - Lam3 PiRaT3s NoW And FoREvEr - PrEsEnTiON In ASCII-ViSIOn
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SolJo Issue #8 STafF
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The Editor : PaRiS
Man of Prey : infinitymatrix
Phreak to tha starz : Kleptic
After Ed's job : JerichoZZ
Newbie : Piss-Face
Prolly a Goth : Cronus
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>>> MEnEFeSTo <<<
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ThE SoLJo: FuNny, InforMaTivE, Useful and l337 E-ZiNE FoR EvERyOne Who iS EVeRyOnE Or WaNtS To BE. PrOdUceD WhEn EvEr We HaVE EnOuGh STuFF To MaKe It WoRTh WhIlE YOu DoWNLoADinG It. THIS IS NOT A HACK ZINE! ITS NOT TRYING TO BE, AND NEVER WILL BE. ThIs ZiNE FocuS'S On AlL AsPeCTs Of UnDerGroUND CuLTuRE, RaNging From HaCkING/Phreaking etc to Philosiphy AnD coMeDY: In A
StYlE TaKiN' Us All bAck to ThE OriGiNz Of ThE SCenE - PiRaTEz EvErYwhERe... W3rD.
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SOl SOL?
Sol!! soluk!
soll! SOlll!!
solsolsol! SSSSSSSSSOOOOLL! Soll!!!!
sOl sol! SSSSSSSSSSSSSSOOOLLLLL!! SOl
! !SSSSSSSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOLLL!
SSSSSSSSSSSSOOOOOLLLLLLLLL!!
SSSSSSOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!
SSSSS.. OSSSSS .,SSS!
SSSS:: .,OSSS,. ::L!!
SSS:::.,,OOSS!S,.::::!!
SSSSSSSOOOOLSO!!IILLO!!O!
SSSSSSSSSOO:!!:!!ILLLLOO!
SSSSSSSSOOSSSOLLLLLOO!!
SSSOSSSSSSSLLLOO!
SS SOSSSSSSSLLLLLO! OO
SSOl IiiiiiiiiiiiI OOOO
SSS.SSOl O O SSSS Sol
SSSSSSSOl OOOOOOOOO SSSSSol
SSSSSSOl SSSSSSS SSSSSol
OO! SOl
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ThE SyNdiCaTe Of LOnDoN
Established. 1992 - Reformed. 1998
"Giving you the ph34r since dat l337 year"
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Disclaimer: SOL and Fallen Angels Publishing cannot be held responsible for the validity of articles printed within the SOLJO. SOL is a small non-profit organisation, any querys or problems regarding articles; be they copyright, or validity issues should be directed to SOL Admin at so_London@hotmail.com. Where appropriate mistakes/ommissions/copyrighted material will be removed from back issues and SOL will cease to distribute them. This is all we can do; we do this for fun, we ask why YOU do it?
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Small>>>
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<Cont3n7s>:
~~~~~~~~~~~
Small
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Contents - Fallen Angels Publishing
Editorial - PaRiS
Large
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Dont Say What Might Have Been (Part 5) - PaRiS
Coke Fraud... - Kleptic
Annoying... - infinitymatrix
Clips 'n' Crap from the net... - SOL
Syndicate of London - Terrorist Profile - JerichoZZ
A little bit about Mumia Abu-Jamal - Kleptic
Futures Present (Part 6) - PaRiS
True Stories About Phone Phreaking #1 - Kleptic
Depression... - infinitymatrix
My Weekend With SOL... - Piss_Face
True Stories About Phone Phreaking #2 - Kleptic
Whats the Difference? - PaRiS
True Stories About Phone Phreaking #3 - Kleptic
Channel stats for #luckstruck - SOL
Small But Sexy MiRC Pager... - PaRiS
An Encounter with Cooksey 2000 - PaRiS
Sniffing - Cronus
Regular
-------
Shit of the Issue - SOL
The Projects - Fallen Angels Publishing
Links - Luckstruck Design
Shouts - SOL
Final Thought - PaRiS
- Please direct all SUBSCRIPTION requests and BACK ISSUE requests directly to SOL ADMIN at sol@sanction.org.uk. Alt; Visit www.sanction.org.uk/sol/ for Back issues etc.
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[It was once believed that |PaRiS| was the only person known to write the
now sacred, "SolJo Movie Parody". Now from this day forth, it is known that
JerichoZZ 'had a go'. Will someone please save us all now...! - JerichoZZ]
Double Hard Bastards...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scene opens with 3 suited and booted men knocking on the door of some sort of
business premises. A newbie opens the door, he looks at the 3 men. The 3 men look
at the newbie. The newbie continues his starring antics. The 3 men cool as fuck
continue looking at the newbie. The newbie starts to sweat and tears come to his
eyes, he makes a move to speak
"We're closed."
"We called this morning." says the leader of the 3 men.
"Come back tomorrow." the newbie says, trying to be elite.
Another man comes to open the door, to the relief of the newbie its his boss.
"Whats going on here then, who the fuck are you?" The boss, a bald version of cooksey,
pulls an evil look.
"Are you Terry Cooksey?" The leader of the 3 looking directly at him.
"Who wants him?"
"I'm Jericho, err I mean Philip Morris, and these are my collegues llama and |PaRiS| umm I mean John Smith and David Jones."
Llama, speaks for the first time, "We're from the Inland revenue."
"You better come in boys," cooksey leads the way.
The 3 men are lead to an office, they are seated next to each other, the newbie has split, not to be seen or heard of again. Cooksey sits behind his big flashy desk. The 3 men place their breif cases upon their laps.
"So whats all this about." Cooksey seeming not to be interested.
"We're here to..." jericho's words are cut short, as 2 built like brick house script kiddies walk in.
"These are my partners, this is Bob and Caz." they take up defensive positions either side of Cooksey.
The 3 men, do not pay attention to any of them.
Cooksey continues his introductions, "These men are from the tax office" he sits forwarding leaning towards the seated men. "somethings not right boys, I've been in business for 150 - 200 years" (a typical Cooksey lie) "and I've never had any tax men come to my office before, what is that?"
Jericho speaks "We are here on a fact finding mission, we are here to give you to a better service"
Relief poors out of Cooksey as he says sighs, he laughs, "well go ahead"
"right, we'll get started then" the 3 men open their brief caces to reveal their guns, but these remain hidden from cooksey as the brief cases are still open.
"Ok, question 1, How long have you been in business?"
"HAHa ha ha, I dunno 700 - 800 years"
"you getting this John" llama pretending to be writing down information.
"Question 2, Do you pay a) too little tax, b) too much tax or c) just enough tax?"
"Everyone pays too much tax."
llama confirms "to-oo mu-ch t-ax"
"question 3, Have you ever heard of the SOL?" With that everyone in the room rose to their feet, Cookseys men aiming pistols at the 3 men. Jericho reveals his hidden weapon, a typical Bronson special, the barrel a good 2 feet long, with bullets that could take out a tank. Llama reveals a banana, slightly over ripe, |Paris| reveals his chosen weapon, a samurai sword, he quotes something that sounds like something a samurai sort of person should say.
a stand off occurs, no man dares move or say anything, they stand around trying hard to think of something cool to say. A mobile rings.
"excuse me cooksey," jericho says while patting down his coat for his mobile. llama realises that he has part of his lunch in his hand and takes the momentary cease fire to locate his gun, he fails and continues to look like the bad man with a banana...
jericho answers the phone "hello."
"Hey Jericho it's me Nix^."
"I am right in the middle of a business meeting can I call you back?"
"No wait listen..."
"|PaRiS| is right next to me..."
"I just have to tell you that a parody of 'Hard Men' is a shit idea..."
|PaRiS| puts his samurai away to point an Uzi 9mm at jericho, and Jericho panics.
"look its a small part, just make baby noises and put phone down..."
Jericho smiles and says no more, he puts phone down. |PaRiS| whispers "I'll have words with you after this parody" and points his gun at the script kiddies.
Jericho continues with the story... "sorry for the interuption Cooksey, I don't wanna incident we just wanna talk."
Llama steps forward... "PUT YOUR GUNS DOWN"
Cooksey gives them the nod and they put their guns on the desk....
Llama takes another mighty step forward... "HANDS ON YOUR HEAD"
Cooksey and his men raise their hands,
"Not you Cooksey" says jericho with a 'your a prick' sort of tone.
Cooksey resumes his standing pose of alertness...
"Now we can do this the hard way, or the easy way," jericho explains, "me I like the easy way, lazy see."
"what do you want?" cooksey says as he trembles...
"We want to know what you know about ^cF?"
Cooksey laughs, "I only have one word about them" everyone gathers around to here what has to be said... "WANKERS"
|Paris| lunges his uzi in to the face of one of the script kiddies, breaking his nose and allowing blood to run everywhere... "This we know, tell us why your gay?"
Cooksey shows his anger "I have logs of this, I have friends in the FBI, in fact I am FBI, your going down, I am gonna sue, you'll hear from my lawyer" he stops, realising that none of his statements are true, he worries. "I have money, please leave me alone"
"We are SOL and we will not sell-out!" |Paris| says, pointing his gun at Cooksey...
Jericho points out that this isn't a commerical sell-out and says "a leave me alone fee would be �75,000"
"I got the money right here..." Cooksey mutters as he dives in to his desk draw and spills out wads of cash. "Now there's your money, now fuck off"
"Count it Llama" Jericho orders, "I don't trust you Mr. Cooksey"
Llama feels it necessary to eat his banana, and takes the money away for counting. Jericho and |Paris| remain to keep Cooksey and his minions under control...
llama returns, he found his weapon, a slightly under ripe banana, much more deadly than an over ripe one.
"�74,980" llama points out. pointing his banana at cooksey.
|Paris| is vexxed, "thats �20 short, do you know who your fucking with!"
"Relax I made a mistake," Cooksey mentions in an apologetic sort of way.
"the way of the samurai is not to relax, but to kill people who are clearly gay" and does what your supposed to do with an uzi, 'point and spray'
With that being the signal llama fires his banana (don't ask me how - Ed) Jericho shoots 1 round from his gun and is knocked off his feet, a 6 foot hole occurs in the office wall, no one is hurt.
When the ammo from |Paris|'s uzi runs out he unleashes the sword once again and removes the heads of cookseys minions in go swoop.
The 3 men pause, |Paris| with a slight grin laughs, jericho covered in dust remains looking hard, and llama looks at the mess a loaded banana can make.
The men leave the premises, Jericho and llama look pissed off, |paris| empties tablets from a perscription only bottle.
"�20 short and you have to shoot up the place." Jericho mutters,
"The geezers an asshole, he had it coming to him" explains |Paris|.
"What the fuck is that" says llama pointing to the tablets...
"What, Valium..." |paris| shouts as he chews...
"Without the steroids he thinks he's the terminator" explains jericho...
llama stops |Paris| from chewing, "look if you wanna do that shit you do it after work..."
"don't tell me what to do I can look after myself"
They start to fight, until they arrive at their car...
The men approach their car, a red Rolls Royce... they throw their brief cases in to the boot...
Whoo'd dah BAD MAN whoo'd is 'ere!
Maybe the story will continue,
Maybe I'll be lazy and it won't,
Maybe a monkey may fly out of my butt,
Maybe it won't?
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<PaRiS> Editorial
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well issue 9 ay, and im actually writting this editorial at a sensible time of the day; who would have thought it. its been another patternted SOL "long month" but frankly you can blow me, as can all the ppl harrasing me about approving subscriptions on the mail list. Im Busy :) *grin*. Anway...
Ive rediscovered Garage. Which is definatly a good thing, although this month I have been using !'s on IRC alot for the first time ever, I dont know why. Im not sure Im happy with it. Maybe I am maybe Im not. Who knows. HAHAHA. Etc.
Anyone remember my Under ground IRC Network idea? Well its finally been taken up by someone else and if ya care ot visit #luckstruck on xnet (xone.xnet.org 6667) you will find various IP's of the various underground server's there, 6 servers are planned 2 are almost constant and 4 are linked if you see what I mean, SOL will be running sol.underground.net and angel.underground.net respectivly. Angel's up n running already like.
Just like to say "hi" and welcome back to Kleptic (he of TDA fame) who as you may notice submitted a number or articles for this issue. Klep is currently looking for all the Discordia (another zine) back issue to convert to HTML; if anyone has any mail em to kleptic@grex.org.
The site "Should" get updated when I finish this issue, like now. :) So there. Writting some music for a demo at the moment, anyone wants to do the whole gfx theme for an SOL demo disk contact me on IRC, im usually there, or idl3.
SOL, and The PaRiS, back on form. Word to ya kitten.
"Paris didnt do it"
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Large>>>
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<PaRiS> Dont Say What Might Have Been (Part IV)
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There was something in the air this evening; as the band played a succession of slow, but strangly upbeat songs and the balloon's strayed off into the night, the water in the swimming pool rippled pleasingly, the dim lighting creating just the right atmosphere as the crowds of people wanderd and mingled, drinks in hand, the warm summer air intensified by the sounds of distant crickets chirping away from somewhere beoned the mansion like school conference centre.
A cigerette falls seemingly from the sky, landing at the feet of an unknown boy, smoke trailing from its still lit end. The boy looks down with some disapproval, almost a tut as he steps away from the offending object he slips his hands into his tuxedo's pockets and once again trys to concentrate on what his friends are saying.
"This is the best party ever! I cant beleive we are all going off to college..." Says one of the boys friends, another boy of around 16 or 17 years old.
"I know man" a third boy. "Its just not right; school just gone so quickly... Dont you think Rem?"
The first boy looks up, considers "Yes" he says, something in his voice not at all fitting with the jolly words of his counterparts, or indeed the party atmosphere of the night, a resigned smile crosses his frowning face "It's all gone so very quickly."
The others seemingly ignore the apparent displeasure of their freind. "Yeah... been a blast though. Right Im off for more drinks, you coming Rem?"
Rem shakes his head. "No... I'll stay here for a while."
"Come on man, she's in there..." The boy winks "I saw her earlier."
Rem turns away and glances up to the full moon "No I'll stay here, I'll be in in a moment."
The other two boys shrug and begin to work their way through the mass of people toward the bar which is apprently housed inside the impressive looking building. The first mutters something "He should get over it man..." The other nods in agreement.
Rem sighs... The night seems to fade from his thoughts; which instead linger on he past. What he has done, what he could have done; but most importantly what he should have done. The most distressing factor "I still dont know..." He whispers somewhat the the world in general and his conciousness fades back into the leaving party at hand.
Another cigarette falls just behind him, dropped from the hand of a man perched upon a branch of a high tree. The figures long coat drifts silently in the wind as he watches. "It's not over." he says loud enough for Rem to hear.
Rem spins on the spot, and looks up into the tree... catching a glimpse and a man, and a grin before the figure leaps down from the tree and seems to disapear into the darkness. Rem blinks. Now I'm seeing things, I shouldnt have come, this evening is only getting worse.
He turns back around the face the party. The man from the tree smiles broadly at him. He jumps back... "What the fuck?!"
"Indeed." Smiles the man. "My name is Desirei'.... Its not French." He adds.
Rem does his best to regain his composure "And what? Look Im busy mate, and not in very good mood, you'll have a much better time talking to someone else..."
"Oh..." The Desirei mock frowns, turning to stand at Rem's side "So whats the problem?"
"No problem."
"There must be."
Rem looks at him "Who the Hell are you? Ive never seen you here?"
"Its a big school" Retorts Desirei'.
"Your about 20" Retorts Rem.
"Call me a teacher." Smiles Desirei' bringing to an end the abrubt crossfire of words.
"Whatever." Rem turns and shuffle's his hands in his pockets, glancing around the party, scanning the distant faces.
"So whats the problem?" Asks Desirei'.
"Why should I tell you?"
"I have no idea, but people generally do." Desirei' appears to consider this "Samual said its all part of the job." He scratches behind his ear.
Rem looks, perhaps for the first time at the man. Desirei' appears tall, dark, and has those classic features. He seems... Almost too much. Rem looks away; not bothered enough to question the seemingly strange visual effect of the man. "Girls, same as always" he says without actually wanting to.
"I see... Lack of? Or..."
"One in particular."
Desirei smiles "Go get her."
"I can't. She doesnt want me."
Desirei frowns, and looks Rem up and down, "Why, there nothing wrong with you? Is she the..." He searches his modern vocab database "Babe of the school?"
"Far from it."
"Then whats the problem?"
"I have no idea." Rem sighs and shakes his head, pulling his hands from his pockets and folding his arms.
Desirei' raises an eyebrow "Odd" he says.
"Yes" Rem turns to the man... who has gone. He spins on his heel and scans the crouds. No sign. He blinks. Who was he just talking with? He blinks again? Where are his friends... He walks abruptly, somewhat spooked but unsure exactly why toward the bar... making his way through the throng of people.
There they are.
His heart sinks, ache's and almost explodes all at the same time. There SHE is. He blinks, looks away, trys to compose himself; fails. Turns on his heel. Makes a valient fight for control; turns around again and stalks toward her... them. Whatever.
"Hi"
"Hi Rem" Say the males in unison.
"Hi Rem" She says...
Rem trys to smile, trys to act happy; when all he realy wants to do is stare at the girl in front of him. He cannot find the words; he doesnt KNOW any words. All he has is feelings, and all they do is hurt. "Hey people... whats up?"
A blinding flash of light.
"Stop this." The Desirei steps from behind someone, in a very improbable manner.
"Stop what?" A women, dressed in a long white dress, and equally as confussing to gaze upon as the Desirei, steps from behind someone else in the crowd; whom all stand like statues in the hall. Even the sound of the crickets as stopped. There is only silence and her words "What has it to do with you Sir?"
"Its not fair...." The Desirei crosses his arms.
"Its his will." The women looks down at Desirei from accross the room, a clear line of sight between them having somehow developed.
"I dont care; if I cared about that I would have never fallen..." He hisses.
"Oh please." She rolls her eyes "You Demons are so alike; so moral, yet flawed in the fact you do not grasp to the concept of a greater good, its all now now now for you isnt it?"
"Far from it. Ive seen the greater good, Ive even spoken with him, and in my opinion he has just as much clue as the rest of us; ie, none. Therefore his greater good is just the same as our now now now. The difference being he has an army of so called angels to come down here and do his dirty work for him."
The Angel, for thats exactly what she was, frowns... "I find your lack of faith disturbing." She sighs... "But it matters not, you cannot stop this; it is written."
The Desirei takes a step foward. Suddenly, without any warning, the walls of the hall seem to shimer, fade from reality; figures step from behind other frozen statues... Angels...
"We are the Resht'tu... You will leave this place Demon." Smiles the Angel, taking a step toward Desirei`, her wings somehow unfolding behind her, her white dress flowing in the sudden deadly cold breeze.
The Desirei growls... "This isnt over Resht'tu; You know what he could be, and you know what will happen if..."
She interupts him "All speculation. It matters not. Those possibilitys are not his will. His will will be done." She tilts her head to one side.
"Your nothing but slaves."
"And you Sir are nothing but a criminal; an outlaw... and exile. Now be gone before this develops into something that you can no longer cover for."
The Desirei spits at her and turns on his heel.
A Blinding flash of light. And all is as it was. The music playing, the warm summer air, the sounds of the party; even the crickets in the distances chriping.
"Not alot" Say the boys "We're just gonna go dance probably..."
"Ahh" says Rem, looking to the girl "You..." More courage than he would ever use again in his life now spill from his mouth "Fancy a dance..."
Somewhere, sometime, someplace and some-life-time a harp chord plays in the, or a, distance; unheard by all but two of the rooms inhabitants. Rem and the girl blink.
"No" she laughs and turns on her high heel marching off into the distance toward the dance floor, out of his life. His friends follow her, the last of the boys glances back in a "Sorry" kinda of gesture. Rem doesnt even see him. He turns; "Cut my loses" he thinks. He walks through the crowd of people.
Away from this school.
Away from her.
Away from a whole life that might have been.
Several streets away in begins to rain; a tropical storm of sorts, warm water beating down heavily upon him. Soaking him through; hiding the tears if nothing else. He wipes his wet sleeve across his face and stands beneath a dark street light sobbing.
In the distance, sitting beneath a hugh tree which serves the purpose of sheltering him from the rain stands the Desirei'. He exhales a thick cloud of cigerette smoke. And holds the Cigarette aloft "This is to what you might have been." He takes another drag. In the far distance thunder rolls. And the Desirei is gone.
A harp chord plays... Rem looks up into nothingness; barely hearing it, and a thought glides into his mind... "Dont say what might have been..." And he never did.
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<Kleptic> Coke Fraud...
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%Coke Fraud% - A easy way to get a free coke
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By: Kleptic (kleptic@grex.org)
==============================================
Alright, you might be asking.... "Hey, Haven't I seen this text before?" Yeah, probably.. I wrote it like 4 years ago. And last time I checked this little trick still worked. And that wasn't too long ago. So go ahead and try it.. sure it may look lame but hey, in the end you get yourself a free Coke.
Take a crisp dead president (dollar) and lay it face up with the george (or who ever is on your dollar, depending on where you live in the world)
facing the left. Now take the tape (preferably scotch but it doesn't matter) make 2 strips each as long as the bill. Now tape 'em to the edge of the dollar that is facing the way you are... like this:
+--+
| |
| | <- Dead President!
| |
+--+
| |
| | <- Tape
| |
Take some more tape and make bars akrisskross the peices of tape already
there..... Like a Ladder.... Turn the bill over and do the same damn
thing! Get yer Sissors and cut it so the tapes all nice 'n' square
then press on it and count to 10! You're Ready.. Go make you money
make sure the