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- **************************THE BACK ISSUES**********************************
- ******************PARTS SEVENTY-ONE TO SEVENTY-FIVE************************
(Written by Daniel Bowen, Monash University, Melbourne Australia)
(Send e-mail to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu)
_______________________________________________________________________________
Just A Little Toxic Custard
- Told you it would shrink.
-- Yeah yeah, okay, you're right. You should never mix exams with custard.
- Yep. So, will you do the announcement, or shall I?
-- You can do it
- Okay. Where's that shift-lock key?
LADIES AND GENTLEMAN. DUE TO THE AUTHOR BEING Y
IN THE MIDDLE OF EXAMS, THIS WEEK TOXIC CUSTARD e
WILL BE A SPECIAL *MINIATURE* EDITION. s
- **** *** * * **** ***** ** TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES f
* * * * * * * NUMBER 71 - 18TH NOVEMBER 1991 o
M*I N*I A T U*R*E* ***E D I T*I O*N ------------------------------- l
* *** * * * * *** Written by Daniel Bowen k
s
Housewives - sick of tidying up the house? Well, nail down anything ,
you want to keep.. 'cos here comes SUPER VACUUM! Especially designed
for that lazy git of a husband, it will suck up anything and everything t
within a ten metre radius of the suction hose. SUPER VACUUM is now h
used on drugs raids - it never fails to suck up all the stuff! a
Available exclusively from SUPER VACUUM Ltd- SV Nails.. the only t
reinforced super-strength nails guaranteed to hold the furniture '
down. Also protection against nuclear blasts (though the objects s
themselves may well disintegrate).
r
SUPER VACUUM - You will believe a man can clean. i
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - g
h
RICHARD III - ACT 4, SCENE 2: London, The Palace t
:
- Grammy award-winning Sennet. Enter Richard, in pomp, crowned;
Buckingham, Catesby, a Page, and others* A
KING RICHARD: Stand all apart. Cousin of Buckingham! b
i
BUCKINGHAM: My gracious handsome sovereign! g
KING RICHARD: Give me thy hand, sweetie. 3
5
- Trumpets sound and the court looks embarassed as he ascends the %
throne and puts a coin in the condom machine*
o
KING RICHARD: Thus high, by thy advice and contacts, f
And thy assistance, is King Richard out of his skull: f
But shall we wear this cool skin for a day?
Or shall it last, and we rejoice in them? a
l
BUCKINGHAM: Still protect they and for ever let them last! l
KING RICHARD: Ah Buckingham, now do I play the touch, T
To try if thou wouldst come back to my place: o
I forget my line; think now what I would speak. x
i
BUCKINGHAM: Say on, my loving lord. c
KING RICHARD: Why, Buckingham, I saw I would be king. C
u
BUCKINGHAM: Why, so you are, my well-endowed lord. s
t
KING RICHARD: Enough of this palace, come with me Buck, a
We'll go back to my castle and both have a r
d
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ s
Well, we'll throw TCWF onto the rack and
make sure it's stretched to a decent size t
by next Monday. Have a good week. h
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ i
s
Next week in Toxic Custard, we'll be interviewing at St Nick..
Satan.. Lucifer.. yes, the devil himself. And asking the question.. w
Does the Prince of Darkness suffer from nyctophobia? e
-- e
Copyright (c) 1991 Daniel Bowen k
--
Daniel Bowen, in the middle of exams at | o
Monash University, Melbourne, Australia | Solar flares are n
edb134tbp2@vx24.cc.monash.edu.au | still in fashion. l
---Toxic Custard: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu---| y
!
_______________________________________________________________________________
Frozen Toxic Custard Concentrate
-----
--------------------------- |7|2|
| TOXIC CUSTARD | -----
|via Malady and Berk Roads|
---------------------------
KURDISTAN ARMY CHANT
We are tough and we are mean (we are tough and we are mean) W
The crimes against us are obscene (crimes against us are obscene) e
It's Saddam- One and us Kurds- Nil (Saddam- One and us Kurds- Nil) l
If we don't stop him no-one will (we don't stop him no-one will) l
Who will? (Who will?) We will. (We will). U.N.? (No chance) ,
Allies fought and saved Kuwait (Allies fought and saved Kuwait) t
Saddam beaten? Give me a break (Saddam beaten? ...me a break) h
We run round and yell this chant (we run round and yell this chant) a
And don't you love our baggy pants? (don't you love our baggy pants?) n
Who does? (Who does?) You does. (You does?) Do you? (Oh yeah!) k
Patriots saved the Jews from Scuds ('triots saved the Jews from Scuds) G
But we're still cold and eating mud (we're still cold and eating mud) o
So spare a thought for us poor Kurds (spare a thought for us poor Kurds) d
We'll stop now, we're out of words (we'll stop now, we're out of words)
Who are? (Who are?) We are. (We are?) Are we? (Oh, good!) t
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - h
o
The new, some would say revolutionary, plans for the economy put s
forward by Federal Opposition leader John Whatsisname last week were e
leaked early by the Government. In fact the Government had planned to
replace the front cover of the document with a page saying "Written e
And Prepared By That Brilliant And Incredible All-Australian MAN The x
Prime Minister Bob Hawke Corr Blimey He's Good At Cricket", in an a
attempt to pass off the document as the Government's own. But someone m
forgot. s
Anyway, included in the document are many plans to irrevocably
change this country (Overseas readers, please read "that country down a
under where the kangaroos and stuff live"): r
- encouraging people to save by making everything so expensive e
they can't afford to buy anything
- tax cuts, with an added bonus of the public stoning of o
Australian Taxation Department officials v
- a system to ensure that jobs go to rich people (P.F.D - Positive e
Ferrari Discrimination) r
- compulsory reading of Toxic Custard for all citizens earning ,
less than $40,000 a year and not driving expensive
European cars a
This last move has been widely condemned by humanitarian n
organisations. World governments also reacted. US Vice-President Dan d
Quayle made an impassioned plea, saying "I've read this stuff, and
even I can't understand it." An Indonesian Government spokesman said I
"And you thought *we* were bad." And Saddam Hussein phoned to ask
where he could get a copy of the files, and to approve of the whole c
plan. He's been using it for years, apparently. a
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - n
As soon as Popsicle and Inspector Unnecessary-Violence had worked out g
where they were going to, they went there. By asking themselves deep e
and penetrating questions, they worked out that they were going to the t
site of a recent nutmeg-related incident, in an effort to track down
the dealers. b
Popsicle left the Inspector to guard the car, and, after placing a a
"Beware of the Policeman" sign on the windscreen, went to talk to some c
of the neighbours. He made sure he was looking butch and knocked on k
the door of Mrs Irene Busybody. The noise of the Super Vacuum (tm)
stopped, and the house stopped shaking. The door opened, and out t
looked Mrs Busybody, the very image of primness in her thick dressing o
gown, moccasins, hair-curlers and moustache.
"What the hell do you want?" t
"Just a few questions about the murder last night, madam", replied h
Popsicle in his best I-know-very-well-she'll-blab-to-the-media voice. e
"Oh yeah? Well, it was only one of those students. I'd hang the
lot of them. With their sex, drugs, rock'n'roll and all that i
late-night studying. They should piss off back to their universities m
and never come back. Parasites on society, that's what they are. Going p
around having more fun than the rest of us. Shameful, that's what I o
call it. Shameful. And you know who I blame? Bloody immigrants, that's r
who. They've come over to live here.. why don't they stay at home and t
be oppressed there, like everyone else is? They come over to live a
here, and get all the cushy easy unskilled jobs, like welding car n
parts, or falling off oil platforms. They get all the unskilled jobs, t
and the students think 'Oh, bugger that, I'll have to get smarter
before I try for a job.' So they go to bloody university and try and t
get smarter.. lost cause, I reckon. You're either thick when you're h
born, like my husband Fred, or you're smart, like me. Bloody students. i
Bloody immigrants! I'll tell you who I blame for all those foreigners n
coming over, too. Journalists. Scumbag filthy bloody journalists. If g
no-one knew about governments going around massacring innocent people, s
they'd never let those filthy foreigners into the country. With their
filthy fucking foreign food full of worms and mud and pasta and rice i
and crap like that. Criminal, I call it. You know they just opened a n
Chinese restaurant down the street? I called up my friends on the
phone, bloody Telecom phones, they're hopeless.. I called up my l
friends and we're organising a Filthy Red Chinese Food Out Of i
Ignoramus Street rally next week. We rang up the Fascist Fuckwits f
Federation; they said they'd help. Those foreigners, they can take e
their fried rice and piss off back to their own countries, that's what .
they can do. Anyway, what's the question?"
"Well", said Popsicle. "I was just wondering if you knew anything S
about who might have killed the dead nutmeg addict." u
"Oh that's easy", said Mrs Busybody. "It was one of you coppers c
that belted him over the head too hard during the raid yesterday. Good h
job too. One less student in the world. Fred!" she called. "Start 'er
up again!" And she slammed the door as the house began to shake again. a
Popsicle went back to the car considering early retirement, and s
found Inspector Unnecessary-Violence, who had by now recognised where
he was and was trying to look as if he'd never been there before. .
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ .
Popsicle will continue sometime before the end of
time. TCWF will be back next week. Back-issues are u
available; send e-mail to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for m
details. Does anyone want to hear about Rocket m
Roger (rocketroger@gnu.ai.mit.edu)? No? I thought .
not. The author of that won't be surprised. .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ .
Copyright (c) 1991 Daniel Bowen e
-- r
Daniel Bowen, Monash University | r
Melbourne, Australia------------| The boy stood on the burning deck .
edb134tbp2@vx24.cc.monash.edu.au| "No more cards", his mother said. .
====TCWF tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu====| .
_______________________________________________________________________________
Original Rivetted Toxic Custard
__ _ __ __
| | \ |__| | Number 73 - 2nd December 1991
TOXI| CUSTAR| | WORKSHO| FILE|__ Badly written by Daniel Bowen
|__ |_/ | __|.................................
Freedom of speech is a wonderful thing. I'm proud to say that the Toxic A
Custard Workshop Files is not subject to any censorship whatsoever. So, n
if I want to say that the ********** sucks, or that the **** ******* d
- **** ********** ****** with cabbages, I can. Not to mention the
University. Personally, I never believed that the Vice-Chancellor y
- ********* ***** **** ******* **** sheep. But apparently it's true. e
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - a
,
MRS IRENE BUSYBODY SPEAKS OUT ON...
t
The Recession. Government? What have the bloody government got to do h
with economics? Stuff all, I reckon. I mean, I know the government are e
a bunch of idiots who pretend to run the country - and we pay them for y
the privilege, but in fact they don't run anything. All they do is
stand around in their big Houses of Parliament... why the hell is it d
HouseS.. plural.. there's only one of them. I've seen it on the telly.. i
one big huge humungous building that cost zillions. They stand around d
in their House of Parliament .. well, they sit, mostly, the lazy gits,
and they argue with each other all the time. I've seen that on the v
telly, too. And for that they get paid loads of money. Anyway, do you e
want to know who I blame for the recession? Do you? Oh, you don't, r
okay. Well, I'm gonna bloody tell you anyway. It's not the government. i
It's not the stock market people either - those yuppie gits in their l
striped shirts standing on the trading floors shouting their heads off y
to "Sell!" or "Buy! Buy! Buy!" or whatever the hell they're shouting..
I think they're trying to order lunch from the blokes at the front with r
the chalk. "Pie! Pie! Pie!". You can tell, 'cos those prices on the e
boards look very like the prices written on the big menu at the fish a
and chips shop. Anyway, you think those gits in the stock exchange d
could possibly have caused the recession? Nah, they can't even order a e
hamburger successfully. I blame the recession on TV game shows. I mean, t
it's obvious, isn't it. Those prize idiots are giving away bigger and h
bigger prizes on their TV shows, to those smart arses that go on those
shows. Great. They give away cars and holidays and VCRs... oh, those f
bloody VCRs. Who can work the buggers? With all those buttons, you'd r
think it controlled the bloody space shuttle. No, serious, I once saw a o
film of inside the space control centre, and they were pressing little m
buttons just like on the remote control on the video. Only instead of
"Play" it said "Launch". No difference. And they blamed the Challenger t
disaster on a rocket thingy exploding or whatever they blamed it on. h
Nope. Absolutely not. Someone at NASA got hold of a control unit, e
thinking it was for their vcr. They probably wanted to record Days Of
Our Lives or something... and KABOOM. Seven astronauts blown into bits b
the size of sand through an hourglass. Anyway, the recession. What was o
I talking about? Game shows. Yeah. Every single person who goes on a o
game show and wins a new telly or a matching set of fake gold jewellry k
has to spend a day or two at a tv studio recording it, instead of at
work. And that's why the country is in such a state. So, bloody Sale of o
the Century... Wheel Of Fortune... they should be banned. It's all lost f
worker productivity. Huh. Workers. Lazy gits, all of them. They should
all be sacked. You know who I blame for workers being lazy? Unions. C
Yeah, unions. They all want something for nothing, those bloody trade u
unions. Minimum wages, I ask you.. safe working conditions..? I mean, s
if more workers were killed in accidents, it would soon solve the t
unemployment problems. a
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - r
d
THE ADVENTURES OF *POPSICLE* .
Please note: The absence of asterisks in last week's episode was due to
the international asterisk shortage. And because I forgot. A
n
- Popsicle* and Inspector Unnecessary-Violence are (or were, depending d
on tense) hot (or cold, depending on the weather) on (or off, depending
on the switch) the (or a, depending on the determinacy or otherwise of t
the article) trail (or path, depending on your point of view, I expect) h
of a gang nutmeg dealers. After investigating closely the scene of a e
nutmeg-related murder in the previous episode, they spent the first
paragraph of this episode explaining what they had been doing in the s
previous episode. c
*Popsicle* decided to try something different in finding out the r
identities of nutmeg dealers in the area. He looked up "Nutmeg" in the i
Yellow Pages. And found sod all. He was desperate by now, but decided p
he should think about the case instead. As *Popsicle* and the Inspector t
drove along in the exceptionally fabulously designed and exceptionally u
cheaply built A.R.S.E. custom vehicle, they just happened (pure r
coincidence, you understand; not just a plot device to finish up the e
story quickly due to the author running out of ideas) to see a truck in s
front of them, which suddenly swerved, distributing a large number of
nutmegs on the road. *Popsicle*, having decided to drive on this w
occasion, opened a window and let out a whoop that had got inside the e
car somehow, and sped after the truck, while the Inspector turned on r
the special A.R.S.E. siren that was fitted to their car. e
"Halt! You, yes *you*, the one in the large white truck, are being
pursued by the Australian Royal Security Establishment. Please stop l
your vehicle and surrender before we blow your fuckin' brains out", o
said the spoken bit of the siren, which was accompanied by the loud n
wailing of the siren which made the spoken bit almost unintelligible. g
The truck driver either decided that he didn't want to stop, or ,
couldn't hear the spoken bit of the siren, since he kept driving.
- Popsicle* ran over a couple of small dogs as he increased speed, and b
turned quickly into a laneway to follow the truck. Both vehicles sped o
through lanes and streets, going bloody fast and miraculously not r
hitting anything though they were on the wrong side of the road half i
the time and ignoring all the traffic lights, just like on car chase n
films. After half a dozen cliched turns, it was getting very boring for g
the readers, so the truck ran out of petrol and slid to a halt by a
pile of dustbins. a
n
WILL THE AUTHOR HAVE THE TIME TO WRITE A DECENT EPISODE NEXT WEEK? d
ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT.
n
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ o
That was another of them Toxic Custard Workshops. And t
The Adventures of *Popsicle* will continue sometime
after now, and sometime before they finish. Back-issues v
of this crud are now available. If you must, then e
send mail to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details, or reply r
to this. Also rumoured to be still available is the y
tedious adventures of Rocket Roger. For that, send mail
to rocketroger@gnu.ai.mit.edu Can you hear "With a f
little plug from my friends" playing in the background? u
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ n
n
Copyright (c) 1991 Daniel Bowen Wall Street Rally y
-- _________ _________ .
Daniel Bowen, Monash University | |DOW JONES| ________ |GREENBACK|
Melbourne, Australia------------| | FOR | |FT INDEX| | We love |
At a new, unknown e-mail address| |PRESIDENT| |RULES OK| |___you___|
------tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-------| |_________| |________|
_______________________________________________________________________________
Highly Combustible Toxic Custard
::::: ::::: : : ::::: ::::: : : TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES #74 T
: : : : : : : : 9th December 1991 h
: : : : : :::: : ::::: Written by Daniel Bowen e
..:...:::::.:::::.:.........:.....:......(vac673b@monu6.cc.monash.edu.au) r
e
This is like, the Hippy News, so mellow out. That mega-heavy dude the
Prime Minister spilled out a big floral shoulder-bag full of bad vibes on i
Friday when he kicked the chief bread-head John Kerin from the s
Treasurer's position, which is like a real shame man, 'cos John was like
one of the mellowest and coolest Treasurers ever. Okay, so the recession o
is really really heavy and uncool, but all you gotta do is take it slow, n
roll yourself a joint and take it easy, man, it'll sort itself out. l
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - y
THE TWO SIDES OF THE BRAIN o
n
- I *want* that chocolate. e
-- Don't be silly, it's too sweet; it'll rot your teeth. p
e
- One little chocolate can't hurt. r
s
-- All your teeth will fall out and everyone will laugh at you for having o
no teeth and you'll have to pay the dentist three zillion dollars to have n
a full set of false ones put in.
m
- Mmm... milk chocolate. I can't resist milk chocolate. o
r
-- That one chocolate will mean you'll have to exercise for ten hours e
every day for the next two years to burn off the excess fat you gain from
it. You'll be bloated, huge, round. You won't walk out of the 7-11; s
you'll roll out. You'll look like the enormous fat pig that you are, you t
chocolate maniac. u
p
- One chocolate... just one. i
d
-- Oh sure, you say just one. But you'll get hooked and be eating thirty
a day for the rest of your life. Hideous spots will appear all over your t
face, and you'll look completely repulsive to any other members of the h
human race. a
n
- But it looks so *tasty*!
t
-- Well of course it looks tasty. It's specially developed by the h
chocolate companies to look tasty. You don't think they'd market a e
chocolate that looked totally revolting, do you? It's meant to look
sumptuous, seductive and delicious. But that chocolate will block your a
arteries.. you'll have heart disease or something horribly gory and u
dangerous like a heart attack. You'll be dead before you've even thrown t
away the wrapper. h
o
- I love chocolate. I want that chocolate. r
-- Oh sod it, you're right. Eat eat eat! o
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - f
Once upon a time there lived a frog, who basically spent most of his time t
hanging around a swamp. He would have hopped around instead, but he was a h
very rebellious frog, who felt that he shouldn't have to be subjected to i
the usual frog cliches in fairy-tales. Anyway, this frog naturally wanted s
to go far in the world. He was aiming for promotion, hopefully before the
story finished, and was therefore forever on the lookout for any good u
looking princesses who might be hanging around as well. With luck he'd be s
able to get a kiss from one to transmogrify himself into a fairly rich, e
moderately handsome and well-hung prince. l
The frog's name was Roger, pronounced "Rogger" for reasons that will e
be apparent to all but the most unknowledgable of readers. Roger s
preferred to be known as Rog (pronounced "Rogg") so we'll stop calling s
him Roger and start calling him Rog, beginning with the next paragraph.
Rog was having a pretty rotten day, all things considered. He'd not s
spotted any princesses around the swamp all day, not even a hideously i
ugly one, and to can it all, he had a migraine. There was a mist rising d
above the swamp, and he decided, in a move destined to anger those e
supporting more radical roles for frogs in stories, to bounce home. w
After passing a Pipa, he bounced into a very misty area of the swamp, a
landing on a log, where he found a (lo and behold!) princess. The y
princess was sitting on the log, and looked down at Rog, who grinned s
back. Rog realised that this particular log was in the centre of the
marsh, which was not a particularly likely or terrific place for a m
princess to be sitting. But hell, it was just the way the story was e
running, so it would have to be here. s
"Yeuch, a frog!" screamed the princess in Greek, mainly because she s
was Greek, the dialogue being shown in English because the author and a
most of the readers didn't speak Greek. The princess, being a typically g
civilised and dignified member of the human race, was of course armed to e
the teeth. But also being only a young child princess (not really one of .
the ones Rog had been looking for), the weapon in this princess'
possession was a slingshot. Which she fired roughly in Rog's direction - A
not a very friendly thing to do in the circumstances; something which n
became obvious when the small stone from the slingshot hit Rog, most of d
whom exploded in a splash of green bits. And all that Rog the Frog had
wanted to do was to snog with a wog on a log in the bog during a fog. t
h
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - a
t
MRS IRENE BUSYBODY SPEAKS OUT ON... '
Fairy tales. It's shocking the junk that we feed our kids. Thank Christ s
they're moving away from that bullcrap nowadays, and giving them those
Teenage Mutated Ninja Tortoises. Those fairy tales were just promoting y
boring peaceful sixties values in our kiddies. Well, okay, I know that o
most of them were written before the 1960s, but that's not the point; u
most fairy tales were written in the sixties of different centuries, ;
which throughout history have been known for their revolutionary music
and peaceful long-haired people. The Great Fire of London actually t
started from a commune of seventeenth century hippies who lost control of h
a Restoration joint. See how dangerous drugs are? It's that type of e
peaceloving wet wimp what wrote those things. The whole concept of fairy
tales corrupted the little kiddies for years, you know. Just the name is o
suspect. "Fairy"? I blame AIDS on fairy tales. It's fairy tales that n
promote peace and love and stuff.. and of course we all know who's to e
blame for AIDS. Well, those immigrants brought it over from Africa,
didn't they; then they gave it to the gays and the drug users through the r
toilet seats and stuff. I think we should ship all of them, all the poofs e
and all the drug users and blacks and immigrants and haemophiliacs to a
Africa and re-build every toilet in the country. That'd get rid of AIDS d
for good. i
n
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ g
Toxic Custard is over for another week, thank
God. For back-issues mail tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu i
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ t
Copyright (c) 1991 Daniel Bowen .
--
Daniel Bowen, Monash University, Melbourne Australia------------With his second
vac673b@monu6.cc.monash.edu.au TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu---shortest sig ever!
_______________________________________________________________________________
Toxic Blue/Green Custard Algae
....______..._______...................................................
. T /C |W F TOXIC Number 75 .
. / |_____ CUSTARD by Daniel Bowen .
. / \ WORKSHOP vac673b@monu6.cc.monash.edu.au .
....../......______/...FILES.........Accept no Pictures of Lily........
MRS IRENE BUSYBODY SPEAKS OUT ON... E
The Arts. What a load of poncy namby-pamby poofters artists are. Look v
at ballet.. you know it's true that no-one in ballet is over thirty. e
It's so competitive that ballet dancers are all killed by their rivals r
within a year or two of making it big (principally in the crotch y
department, needless to say). Ballet people who survive usually have
bullet-proof leotards, and become famous choreographers in their old w
age. Just as well that only a few get that far really, or there'd be an e
oversupply of famous choreographers. Imagine wild, unemployed famous e
choreographers roaming the streets threatening people with their k
pirouettes.
Anyway, apart from ballet, there's painters. Why the hell don't i
they make themselves useful and paint walls and houses and stuff, t
instead of painting on bits of canvas. Though they'd have to paint '
different stuff.. I know I wouldn't want some topless woman painted on s
- my* outside wall for Fred to stare at and the neighbours to gossip
about. Some of those artistic splodges wouldn't be too bad - they'd a
hide the stains well.
Then there's musicians. With their noisy instruments. Quite apart w
from those roll and rock people, who should all be beheaded for causing o
noise pollution, all the poncy artistic classical twits. Ever noticed r
how an orchestra is arranged in a formation that looks just like the r
politicians in parliament? Classical music represents class.. y
authority.. posh gits. And if they're all so musical, how come almost :
anything you hear with only one instrument sounds like crap?
Writers? Yuck. Ludicrous little-brained literature loving loonies.
As for sculptors - disgusting, I call them. I blame most of w
society's ills on sculptors. Bending their soft moist clay into all h
sorts of filthy phallic symbols of disproportionate dimensions. They a
should all be strung up by the testicles in public places, they'd soon t
learn the importance of the genitalia and that it shouldn't be mocked
or modelled or stretched. w
i
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - l
l
THE ADVENTURES OF *POPSICLE*
g
- Popsicle* and Inspector Unnecessary-Violence are very hot on the trail o
of a gang of nutmeg dealers. Having stopped a nutmeg truck by chasing
it for so long that it ran out of petrol, *Popsicle* and the Inspector i
are about to confront the driver, and, if they possibly can, blow his n
brains out all over the pavement, drowning a nearby small dog in blood,
in a horrifying cliche directly lifted from nine out of ten violent t
police films. h
Inspector Unnecessary-Violence, having forgotten that he had e
forgotten to bring his gun, pulled his banana (that his mum had given
to him as part of his lunch that day) from his holster and ran over to s
the driver's side of the truck, brandishing it. With a deft movement of i
his other hand, he pulled the door handle open and leapt into the d
cabin, pushing the potentially lethal banana into the driver's face. e
"Freeze, punk!" he screamed. w
"But I'm not a punk", replied the driver, "I'm a supporter of the a
reactivist-socio-modernist subgroup of the Footscraynian school of y
political activism." s
"So why do you have spiky purple hair, a leather jacket and torn
jeans?" screamed the Inspector. m
"It's my day off." e
"Okay, pu.. Okay, supporter of the reactivist-socio-subgroup s
modernist convert of the Footscraynian school of political activism: s
freeze or I'll get violent and put the inside of this truck in grave a
need of a respray job!" screamed the Inspector, who had done quite well g
in a screaming course at the Police training school. e
"Okay man, okay. Keep maricultural", said the driver, who had now
figured out that it might be a good idea to raise his hands, and had t
done so. h
While *Popsicle* continued to look on, coolly leaning against the i
car with the radio in his hand, trying to look like the sex symbol of s
the team, the Inspector pulled the driver out of the truck and pushed
him into a pile of dustbins. t
"Listen man, garbology examination studies aren't generally my i
scene, right? And besides, if a garbo turns up now he's going to be m
really generally pretty pissed off about the whole street/waste e
situation re the garbage, you know?" ?
"Shuddup pu.. fucker! Now fuckin' listen to me!" the Inspector
screamed. "Me and my fuckin' colleague are on the fuckin' trail of a C
gang of fuckin' nutmeg smugglers. And we saw fuckin' nutmegs coming out o
of the back of your fuckin' motor, right? So, how the fuck do you m
fuckin' explain that?" p
"Hey man, lay off the vulgar quadruple letter arrangements or l
you'll really like isolate yourself from the readers." e
"Fuck them, I wanna know about the fuckin' nutmeg!" screamed the t
Inspector. e
"Oh well like that's easy. I've never seen that stuff before. I
borrowed the truck from this really rad dude on campus. He said I could c
borrow it to collect the joints for the party tonight on the condition r
that I drop off the supply of cooking materials to his mate first." a
"Right!" screamed the Inspector. "So what's the fuckin' name this p
fuckin' dude fucker?!?"
"Rob", replied the ex-driver, now partially submerged in a garbage a
bin. "He's a lecturer at the university." s
*Popsicle* sauntered over and pulled the man out of the bin, coolly
dusted him off and said coolly "Okay. That's cool. That's all the info u
we wanted. See you. Stay cool." s
The Inspector put the banana back in his holster and followed u
- Popsicle* back to the A.R.S.E vehicle, which in the great movie a
tradition had been left on an angle half on the curb with its lights l
still flashing and all the doors open. With a tricky but extremely ,
smooth and cool procedure, *Popsicle* swerved the car back onto the
road in such a way that all the doors closed themselves and sped i
towards the university. s
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ t
Toxic Custard Workshop Files is over for another week; h
praise the Lord. The proclaimation has come forth from on e
high, and reads as follows: Back-issues are available -
send mail to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details. a
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ n
-- s
Copyright (c) 1991 Daniel Bowen w
-- e
Daniel Bowen, Monash University | Wanted: Two masked men r
Melbourne Australia | who stole the signature .
vac673b@monu6.cc.monash.edu.au | quote from this week's
TCWF- tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | Toxic Custard.
_______________________________________________________________________________
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--
Copyright (c) 1991 Daniel Bowen
May be copied or reproduced without permission
provided this notice remains intact.
--
Daniel Francis Bowen | Remember - jumpers are
Monash University, Melbourne, Australia | clothing's way of telling
----THE TOXIC-CUSTARD-WORKSHOP-FILES-----| you to pull over...
tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | [Toxic Custard Workshop]