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"Astonishing Toxic Custard"


___//__               /---  //\\ ||   //    . Dear readers, won't you
  //  __            //__      // ||  //__   . please sit back and
 // //    \\    // //        //  || //  \\  . enjoy the two hundred
 \\ \\__   \\/\// //        //== || \\__//  . and sixteenth edition
   by Daniel Bowen     15th September 1994 .  of the Toxic Custard
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   Workshop Files.

Dear readers,
It's been what you might call an unusual week for me. Please allow me
to tell you all about it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

ASTONISHING EVENT #1.

I really thought it would never happen. I thought it was the kind of
thing that only happened on TV shows where the main character was 35
weeks pregnant. But it really happened to me. Last Wednesday, I was
trapped in an elevator for a whole half-hour.

Someone once said that hell was being locked in a room with your
friends. Well, that's not quite right... actually hell is being
trapped with your friends in a lift-sized area, when you don't have
any heavy weaponry to ensure that they don't shut up.

It all began like any other lift journey... you press the button,
wait for the lift to arrive, then everybody piles in, holding the
doors open for the last person to arrive. If you time it right, you
can catch the tail of their jacket in the door as it closes.

You press the button for the floor you want, and presto, you're on
your way. But this time, we weren't on our way. Because this time, we
had entered *THE DEMON LIFT FROM HELL*!!

We should have known. We should have been wary. For years now the
lifts in that building have had reputations. Reputations of treating
their passengers like bits of meat chopped up then thrown out because
of mould. One lift was known to stop between floors... another had,
it was rumoured, shot six floors straight down a la gravity... and
the third seemed okay, but occasionally decided to stop on, say,
level 5, and refuse to go any further down. But we climbed in anyway.
Happy to be at the end of the working day.

We knew things were bad when it went in the wrong direction. We
wanted Ground, and said so. But the lift mechanism had obviously
failed, because it spontaneously decided that to get to the Ground
from the ninth floor, it should go up.

And so it lurched into action, catching us all by surprise. It
surprised us almost as much when 2.7 seconds later, it stopped again,
displaying "10", the top of the building in question. Perhaps the
lift was trying to escape? Perhaps it was preparing for a very fast
descent. But no, it stood still. We paused. We pressed buttons. Every
button. Every single button. Twice. Well, we'd modified our elevator
itinerary to visit every floor, but we hadn't actually made any
progress towards going anywhere.

We discussed the options. There seemed to be five possible ones.


already)


although it would have relieved the tension, probably would have got
us nowhere)


consider it. We all would have missed our trains, for a start. (We
ended up missing about 3 trains each, actually, but oh well)


the lift, climb out and go up the shaft on the rickety ladder to
safety. With the risk, of course, that the lift would start working
again while on the ladder, and squash us. Fat chance.


maintenance people (Which we eventually concluded was the most
sensible solution)

So, we rang. And we waited. And while we waited, we used our mobile
phones to call relatives (I'd rather use the word "relatives" than
"next of kin"). We also called our colleagues, who were still in the
building, and who were able to have an enormous laugh at our expense.
"You're not going to believe this... but we're stuck in the lift.
STOP LAUGHING YOU BASTARDS!!!"

Eventually the maintenance people came, and let us out. No-one had
got pregnant. Nobody had to be eaten to help the others survive. We
were let out by the heroic lift maintenance guy. Strange thing is, we
heard him calling, but when the doors finally opened, we couldn't
actually find him. Did he selflessly plummet down the shaft to gain
our freedom? Perhaps we'll never know.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

ASTONISHING EVENT #2.

I found out last Friday that I'm gonna be a dad. My wife Lori is
pregnant.

Okay, so it wasn't *totally* unplanned, but it was still a surprise.
"What, you mean all that machinery actually works?!" Yep, now I can
strut around the streets with a deep and steady voice proclaiming
"*I* am virile! Stand aside citizens, for VirileMan is here! Behold
my working machinery! Behold my SuperSperm(tm)!"

Of course, the immediate reaction was very less macho and
testosterony. The way the news was relayed around the place basically
goes a little like this.

DOCTOR: "Congratulations" ---> EARS ---> BRAIN ---> JAW (which drops)

So, prepare for pregnancy jokes a-plenty. The first of which begins
here. The hippies say it's good to speak to the growing foetus. So
we've decided to prepare the kid for life with its parents. We've
been telling it to "Keep your womb clean."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, while you're contemplating the
horrors of the author of this crap
actually having offspring, let me tell
you that the back-issues of TCWF are
still available by ftp. Email
tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without
profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| This file contains personal
Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| opinions only. Telecom neither
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| wants nor pays for them. Their
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| profits go elsewhere.

Due to an overflow of astonishing events, the Toxic History Of The
World will return next week. Well, don't sound so disappointed!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Toxic Tales Of The City"


Ladies and Gentlemen,

I feel that it is my duty to apologise most humbly to you for the
callous way in which you have been inflicted with two copies of Toxic
Custard intermittently during the past few weeks. Most Human Rights
organisations demand that not even *one* Toxic Custard is inflicted
on any one person, and the current oversupply of Toxic Custard is, to
be honest, awfully distressing to me personally.

Let me assure you at this point that action IS being taken. Top
Custard Investigation Authority operatives are even now performing
all sorts of horrible torture on the mailing software, and making it
promise that it won't do it again.

217 217 217 TOXIC                     19th September 1994 217 217 217
217 217 217 CUSTARD               Written by Daniel Bowen 217 217 217
217 217 217 WORKSHOP                  tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu 217 217 217
217 217 217 FILES(*)           Uh oh, what do I put here? 217 217 217

                                             (*)No responsibility for
                                        duplicate deliveries is taken
                                          by the author, or by anyone
                                               else, for that matter.

Have YOU ever wondered what you're doing here, on this planet? Well,
reading this, of course. But in the wider view of the universe, I
mean. No? Well, okay, to be honest, once anyone starts raving on
about psychological well-being and the meaning of existence, a lot of
us tend to get very bored. So why don't we talk about desk trinkets
instead?

Who is it that designs desk trinkets? Those various bits of plastic,
metal, fishing wire, or gooey liquid, all stuck together into some
weird shape. And it sits on your desk and either gloops, clicks,
pops, swings, or otherwise moves in just the right way so that your
eyes latch onto it all day and you can't do any work. Or, if you're
lucky enough to forget about it, it will catch your eye only when
you're in the middle of trying to think about a particularly tricky
problem, scattering your thoughts completely.

The people who design these things must be very twisted. You can see
them sitting at *their* desks, thinking... "How about a kind of
hourglass timer... yeah... but it's missing something. Ah - got it!
Instead of sand, what about a kind of weird purple gloopy stuff that
no-one knows what it is! Yeah! Then it'll gloop through the hole in
an unpredictable way. And people will keep coming up to whoever's
desk it is to turn it over and watch in fascination. Yeah!..."

Probably the same people design blank videotape covers. "Okay, we
have a high-tech multicoloured logo on the front... ummm.. some kind
of impressive-sounding name, like Super High Quality Pro Grade... and
oh, wait, I know... a completely meaningless quality index number,
like... 267! Yeah. Oh wait, I almost forgot the comparison graph,
yep, comparing 267 with say, 143. Yep, it's higher. And of course
superimpose that with the artist's conceptual diagram of what a
molecule being struck by lightning looks like. Perfect."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Could I tell you about an exciting BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY that I'd like
to tell you about? It's all about NETWORKING, and of course, conning
all your friends into joining (and subsequently losing them all). Did
you know that I, Daniel Bowen, the founder of Danway Distribution,
now rake in millions of dollars from gullible idiots err keen people
with incentive and ambition, like yourselves who join the scam err
scheme, and pay me lots of royalties? You too could get to the top.
You could earn a million dollars, and it might only take you a few
thousand years! It's really just like a huge CHAIN LETTER. Except you
don't get thrown from a twenty-storey building if you don't join.

Pyramid schemes and chain letters have something in common, actually.
They could be *too* successful. They could reach saturation point.
Just imagine the horror if they discovered that everyone in the world
had joined. Disaster! Who would be the new members, the people who
actually cough up the profit? The pyramid would probably turn into a
rectangle, or a parallelogram, or something equally unprofitable.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

                      TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD
                Part 14 of about 40,000,000,000 or so

324 AD
  Constantine defeats the emperor in the East, becoming sole ruler of
  the Roman world. (That must make him an Imperialist!!!! Get it?!
  Ruler? Imperial?!) With the Roman world united, at last Asterix
  comics reach the eastern half of the empire. Constantine visits
  Byzantium, and proclaims rather clumsily "Ich bin eine
  Byzantiumumer."

328
  To celebrate victory, Constantine founds 'New Rome' by enlarging
  the ancient Greek city of Byzantium to include a patio, rumpus room
  and second storey. He renames it Constantinople. He also holds the
  biggest street party in history, parts of which are still going.

330
  Constantine moves the capital to Constantinople. Unfortunately, he
  hires Ancient World Cheap Removals, and a lot of the buildings
  arrive in ruins, which accounts for their rather dishevelled look
  now.

337
  Having found the last of the cutlery that went missing during the
  move, and just when it looks like he's doing so well, Constantine
  dies, and the empire is again ruled by a succession of joint (and
  rival) emperors.

379
  Theodosius the Great, emperor in the East, drives Goths from Greece
  and Italy, in his new Volvo Chariot. Despite the lack of snow, he
  finds himself unable to turn his parking torches off.

382
  Theodosius makes peace with the Goths, rather than madden them and
  see their penchant for wearing black spread throughout the empire.

394
  Theodosius becomes last sole emperor of the Roman world, making
  record redundancy payments to outgoing emperors.

395
  Theodosius dies; division of empire into West and East becomes
  final. The Roman Curtain descends.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I think the baby is a remarkable foetus of engineering

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yep, that's another issue of Toxic
Custard over and done with. For those
of you lucky enough to have FTP
access, you can get back-issues NOW!
Details from tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without
profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Telecom don't have anything
Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| to do with the crap I churn
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| out in my spare time.
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| Consider this a disclaimer.

THIS WEEK'S ONE-LINER
John-Luc Picard: "To baldly go where no-one has gone before"
                                                       (Brian Smith)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Seamail Toxic Custard"


#####    ####     #     #         ####       Number 218
  #      #        #     #         #          26th September 1994
  #oxic  #ustard  #  #  #orkshop  ###iles    written by Daniel Bowen
  #      ####     #######         #          tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu

                      TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD
          Part 15 of enough to keep us going until next year

407 AD
  As barbarians pour into Western empire, Roman legions are withdrawn
  from Britain in last attempt to defend Rome, but as usual, the
  withdrawal method fails. Meanwhile, Britain is left easy prey to
  Angles and Saxons. The Angles, led by Isosceles, start a campaign
  to rebuild the straight Roman roads.

410
  The Visigoths under Alaric plunder Rome, destroying homes, stealing
  jewels, and setting fire to the souvenir shops. Waves of barbarians
  sweep into Spain, Portugal, Italy, Gaul and North Africa on their
  surf boards, terrorising the populations with their bright pink
  wetsuits.

434
  Attila wins a breakfast cereal competition by answering the
  question "Why I would like to be leader of the Huns and go on a
  rampage around Europe" in 25 words or less.

449
  Hengist and Horsa, Jutish chiefs, invade England as a university
  open day prank, and set up kingdom in Kent.

451
  Invading Gaul, Attila is defeated by an army of Goths and Romans at
  Chalons. The Goths and Romans later debate long into the night
  about whether their combined armies should be called Groths or
  Gromans. They eventually settle on "The Combined Goth & Roman
  Co-operative Army Inc".

452
  Attila invades Italy; is persuaded by Pope Leo I to spare Rome.
  Which is lucky, otherwise Attila might have ruined the ruins of
  Rome even more.

453
  Attila dies three weeks before he is due to fly to Disneyland.

455
  Vandals sack Rome. Rome applies for the dole. In next twenty years
  ten different emperors rule. Nothing much has changed in 1500
  years, has it?

476
  Last Roman emperor deposed; and as the sun slinks slowly in the
  west, the Western empire comes to an end.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Medieval Demtel

"Good even' all. I be Jethro Demtel. And I come to your village to
offer you the most amazing bargains. New from me, Jethro, comes the
Demtel three-pronged pitchfork. It be great for such activities as:
  - shifting hay
  - killing suspected witches
  - piling hay
  - leaning on to look rustic
  and last but not least,
  - moving hay
How many pence would you expect to pay, I hear you asking ol' Jethro.
Well don't ask, because if you buy from Jethro tonight, I'll throw in
this free sack of potatoes. I'm standing by, so order now."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Just how slow can overseas mail go? Well, quite slowly, if this
leaked procedures document from the post office is any indication:

Third class mail - parcel is put in a basket with other parcels. When
the basket has filled, it is taken to the nearest despatch point,
where a container is filled with baskets. When the container is
filled, it is taken to the docks. The containers all going to a
particular country are loaded aboard a ship. When the ship is full of
containers, it sails to the destination.

Fourth class mail - parcel is put into any basket - which could be
going anywhere. When the basket is filled, the post office clerk
spins a wheel to decide where it will go. When it eventually reaches
a despatch point, it is again thrown into any old container. If it
gets to the docks, the container is put aboard the first ship, which
may sail anywhere. When and if the container reaches its destination
country, it is unloaded and taken to its destination.

Fifth class mail - the parcel is given $5 and a sleeping bag and told
to hitchhike to its destination.

Sixth class mail - the parcel is thrown into the river.

Seventh class mail - the parcel is cut into small pieces, burned, and
then thrown into the rubbish. The rubbish bin is collected and taken
to the destination, where the charred ashes of the parcel are poured
over the addressee's head.

Eighth class mail - first a feasibility study is prepared. Impact
assessment of the parcel reaching its destination is studied. A full
business case with costing and estimates for deliverables is written
up and approved by the customer. Then an analysis phase begins, with
the path of quickest delivery being calculated. Formal specifications
for delivery are drafted, revised, and signed-off, before a delivery
job-card is prepared and authorised, and personnel and equipment
allocated to the task. At this point we realise that we've lost the
parcel underneath all the paperwork somewhere, and we give up and
hope the customer doesn't remember having wanted to deliver anything
anywhere in the first place.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

THINGS TO SAY TO YOUR PERIPHERALS, PART 17
"I don't think I like your toner."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toxic Custards 1 to 215 are now
available by ftp... email
tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without
profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Just because I work for Telecom
Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| doesn't mean they have anything
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| to do with the stuff I churn
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| out in my spare time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Slow responding Toxic Custard"


TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES
::::: ::::: :     : :::::         Number 219
  :   :     :  :  : :::           3rd October 1994
  :   ::::: ::::::: :             written by Daniel Bowen

                      TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD
                  Part 16 of a whole big large bunch

482 AD
  Clovis, king of the Salian Franks, makes himself first king of
  Frankland (France), with Paris as his capital. As is so often the
  case, many of his people are punished because of accidentally
  laughing at his name. Things are not improved when they discover
  that the German form of it is Chlodwig.

496
  Clovis is baptised as an April Fools' Day joke when his guards
  throw him into the palace lake. Franks become Christians, mostly as
  an excuse to send the kids to private schools.

527
  Justinian becomes emperor in Constantinople, but breaks with
  tradition when he decides not to found a new capital city named
  after him. Attempting re-conquest of Western Empire, he recovers
  North Africa, South Eastern Spain and Italy. Which is not a bad
  effort considering he only had two old men, a dark ages bicycle and
  a small dog for help.

536
  Belisarius, Justinian's famous general, captures Rome. He then
  decides to let it go because it's under weight. But sanity prevails
  and Rome is skinned and cooked on the barbecue for lunch.

565
  Justinian dies, after many years of constitutional reform, and a
  fair bit of stuffing himself with hamburgers on weekends.

568
  Lombards(*) invade Italy, settle in the north.

(*) As everyone knows, the definition of Lombard is: "Loads Of Money,
But A Real Dickhead"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

THINGS THAT TAKE TOO LONG

    Do fluorescent lights annoy everybody else as much as they annoy
me? They are too damned slow to turn on. A whole three seconds?! Who
has that sort of time to spare while the light decides whether or not
it wants to turn on?

    And traffic lights. Why do they take so long? Why am I always the
last person to get the green light? Is there someone sitting in a
control room somewhere, watching me on a monitor and laughing as they
see me get more and more frustrated waiting for the light to change?
Why is it that traffic lights are designed so that pedestrians trying
to cross wait so long that they give up when they see a gap in the
traffic, and run across. And a few seconds later, the traffic lights
change, delaying a whole bunch of car drivers so that the person who
has already crossed, can cross.

    It also takes too long to ring the speaking clock. When I ring
1194, I want to know the time. I usually want to know the time NOW,
and not entirely precisely. I don't want to have to wait through a
whole ten seconds of the pips and the very polite voice saying "at
the third stroke it will be...". Maybe they should have another
speaking clock. The approximate speaking clock. When you ring it, it
just says "'bout a quarter past eleven" or "five minutes 'til the
third race at Flemington" or "just time for another beer".

    And why is it that the more modern the computer, the longer it
takes to boot up? Remember back to the eight-bit days of the early
eighties? Click, beep, computer available. Now you turn it on, go get
a cup of tea, and when you come back, you might be lucky and only
have to sit through the second half of the memory test and the
copyright messages. And if you're like me, you are always paranoid
and never EVER skip the memory test. I mean... what if the memory
fails just as you're doing your most important essay ever; or worse,
breaking the 3,000,000 point barrier on Zonko Invaders' Revenge? Of
course, a zillion other things in the computer that don't get tested
could fail, but there's no sense in taking unnecessary risks, is
there?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

THING        PART 15
====================

    (Jeff and Ron are leafing through magazines in the newsagent.)

JEFF:   Ah yes, these look like the right mags for me. New Scientist,
        Microbiology Weekly, and Atomic Plasma Research Enthusiast.

RON:    But every month you buy those magazines, look at the
        pictures, look at some of the words, look at the dictionary,
        look back at the pictures, and then screw up the magazine in
        disgust and throw it away.

JEFF:   So what have you got there, Einstein?

RON:    I ummm, you know how I take more of an interest in... ummm...
        naturist publications?

JEFF:   You mean porn?

RON:    Shhh, shhh. It's not so much porn... it's just that I like to
        admire the beauty of the human form.

JEFF:   Yeah, I've noticed how you like to creep off somewhere on
        your own to admire the beauty of the human form, in all it's
        natural splendour, especially when the human form concerned
        is a large breasted bimbo with interesting underwear. So, are
        you going to purchase these aforementioned journals of the
        soul?

RON:    Ummm.. yeah. Look, you know how it is. Would you.. umm...
        Well, it's like...

JEFF:   Let me guess. Let me try and work out what you're about to
        say here. You want me to slip your "Big Bouncy Bonking
        Buttocks Monthly" and "Slinky Silky Sexpots Review"; your
        journals of the wobbly body, in between my journals of the
        mind, in the vain hope that the guy at the counter doesn't
        notice and tell your mother?

RON:    Yup.

JEFF:   And after we've looked at our own magazines, can we swap?

RON:    Yup.

JEFF:   Deal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Loads and loads of old Toxic Custards
are just waiting to be ftp'd by you!
Mail tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without
profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Telecom Australia have
Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| absolutely nothing to do with
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| TCWF. I, on the other hand,
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| have no such excuse.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Predictably Toxic Custard"

.....   ...       .   .        ...   ..  ..  ...
  |     |         |   |        |..    .|  .| | |             10/10/94
  |OXIC |..USTARD |.|.|ORKSHOP |ILES |.. |.. |.|      by Daniel Bowen

                      TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD
                    Part 17 of a monumental stack

570 AD
  Birth of Mohammed, who would be trained as a merchant, but would
  later decide on a career move, and became Prophet and founder of
  Islam instead.

590
  Gregory The Great becomes Pope; declares Rome supreme centre of the
  Church. Those around him who say it will never catch on mostly
  decide to go and live as hermits out of embarrassment.

597
  St Augustine lands in England, baptises Ethelbert, king of Kent.
  Ethelbert unfortunately cannot swim, and before anyone realises
  what's happened, drowns.

601
  St Augustine becomes first archbishop of Canterbury after
  threatening to "baptise" any competitors.

c616
  Mohammed proclaims himself the only true prophet of Allah, after
  signing an exclusive distribution contract.

618
  Great T'ang dynasty is founded in China. Yep, one day the people
  concerned said to themselves "I think today would be a good day to
  start a great dynasty. What shall we call this great dynasty of
  ours? Hmmm how about... Carrington? Nah... Ewing... Nah... oh wait,
  what about T'ang! Yeah, The Great T'ang Dynasty... it has a kind of
  ring to it. I like it!"

628
  Mohammed writes to all rulers of the earth, demanding that they
  acknowledge the One True God, Allah, and serve Him. Most of the
  rulers of the earth read the letter, then throw it in the
  recycling.

632
  Mohammed dies; his friend Abu Bakr, successor, leads the Arabs out
  of the desert to achieve Mohammed's aim of making the world submit
  to Islam. His mother ensures that he takes a packed lunch and a
  change of underwear with him.
     "Not now mum, I'm leading the Arabs out of the desert to make
     the world submit to Islam!"
     "I don't care where you're going, you're going there in an
     ironed shirt and clean socks."

643
  The Arabs defeat armies of the Eastern empire at Yarmak. Somewhere
  here there's a link about the Pope always kissing the ground at
  airports, but something got lost in the translation. ("No no,
  that's TARMAC, your holiness".)

637
  The Arabs defeat the Persians at Kardessia, and go on to storm up
  into the first division, defeating Mesopotamia, Syria, Palestine
  and Egypt.

638
  Jerusalem surrenders to the Arabs, although civic leaders claim
  it's a dastardly plan to load the Arabs up with Wailing Wall
  souvenirs.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

THE PRODUCTS THAT NEVER MADE IT, NUMBER 36
THE UNBELIEVERS' MAGIC EIGHT BALL
Proposed responses:
- No idea
- Not really sure
- Cannot predict at this time
- Maybe yes, maybe no
- Go read your horoscope
- A bit of plastic cannot foretell anything
- An accurate prediction is a physical impossibility
- What do you want for $5, Nostradamus?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Okay, time for a few home truths. It may surprise you to hear that
I'm not a completely swinging manic lunatic who spends his days and
nights partying, indulging in wild drinking, and making everyone in
the surrounding area laugh constantly from dawn til dusk. I'm
actually quite a boring individual, and you would probably fall
asleep if you got stuck in a conversation with me for more than a
couple of minutes. My idea of a wild weekend is a visit to K-Mart.
It's a late night if I'm in bed after 10. I *don't* know the words to
the Roger Ramjet song. Well, not all of them. I have haircuts at a
barber. I can't even remember what frequency Triple-J is on. In fact,
I'm so boring that my idea of a joke is to rabbit on about how boring
I am.
    I'm also pleased to be able to say that I'm not famous. I've
never been recognised on the train. Stared at, yes, but not
recognised.
    And I've never been in trouble with the law. Yet. Though I have
maliciously jaywalked once or twice. And returned my library books
late. By mistake. I suppose it's only a matter of time before they
catch up with me.
       "Right men, this is the target. Bowen, Daniel Francis.
       Offences over 15 years ranging from jaywalking, stealing other
       people's junk mail, watering the plants too hard... Believed
       to be in possession of late library books. So, a real hard
       case. Not known to be armed unless you count a rather heavy
       sticky-tape dispenser he sometimes swings around. So here's
       the plan: Ummm.. same as the last raid, really. Go in waving
       shotguns around, I guess. Any questions?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Loads and loads of old Toxic Custards
are just waiting to be ftp'd by you!
Mail tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without
profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Telecom Australia have
Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| nothing at all to do with
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| TCWF. I, on the other hand,
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| have no such excuse. Damn.

DOSKEY - the Polish Operating System

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
the Toxic Custard Workshop Files by Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed
without profit provided this notice remains intact.

For subscription and back-issue information, contact tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu