The Unsorted BBS Collection/thegreatunsorted.tar/thegreatunsorted/texts/txtfiles_misc/9408-alt.dub

Text File | 1994-10-29 | 283KB | 6,292 lines

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #198 [700] + 203
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.902 Aug 94  02:32:14
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : potential .SIG quotes
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

 AL> But there ARE dramatic uses for the image of an otherworldly place of
 AL> torment, presided over by an Arch-Torturer...



stupid question at this point, but have you actually SEEn any of the
Hellraiser films?  particularly `Hellraiser III'?

i'm working on good quotes for my .sig file (the three- or four-line
message that gets appended to internet messages - i've bought an
account on a public access system in melbourne), and these are my
current choices:


`Oh, how uncomfortable that word must feel on your lips - "evil", "good"...
there is no good, Munroe, there is no evil; there is only flesh, and the
patterns to which we submit it.'  - Pinhead, `Hellraiser III'


`The aching, and the breaking, are the making of a soul.'
       - the residents, `Not Available'


`One of the things you have to deal with in this business is being
whipped on by brainless freaks and special-interest pleaders.  it
never ends.  on some nights they gnaw on your doorknob, and on others
they plot rotten lawsuits and fondle themselves like chimpanzees in
rooms lit by 25-watt bulbs.' - HST, `Revenge of the Fish Heads'



---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #200 [700] + 205
 From : dava                                143:10613/1429.902 Aug 94  02:37:32
 To   : ace lightning
 Subj : penises
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

 AL> Men *do* seem to have a fondness for creative peeing.


well, they have to do SOMETHING with it when they aren't bonking.


 AL> The Marine didn't say a word; he just sat there, stirring the campfire
 AL> with his dick...


:)

i can't remember where this quote came from - i think it's a random
tagline:


`anyone can fuck a pig - it takes a Marine to fuck a pig to death.'





d

---
 * Origin: how do i know you're not from the FBI? (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #208 [700] - 207 + 209              Rcv Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  05 Aug 94  23:01:22
 To   : Arifel                                              16 Aug 94  10:20:52
 Subj : Might have been this
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Arifel did spiek to Ace Lightning about Re: Might have been this:

 AL>> I was COUNTING on your archiving them. I have to delete them as soon
 A> also, my maint routines don't touch this echo.  i have everything
 A> that was ever posted, or at least everything that gregh sent me.

Everything that was here when I moved the message base over to Ezycom is still
here, and this echo now has a 1000-message no-age-limit specification.  If you
like, ask me when the numbers get up towards 1000 and I can make a QWK for you
containing nothing but this echo.  207 messages as of this writing.  :(  Alas,
most of the really early stuff got packed out the back door of the old Hudson
base before the move.

Come to think of it, such a QWK would make a pretty good addition to the file
areas here!  Maybe I should do a monthly archive.  But I'd have to get rid of
off-topic of boring drivel like this message.

Gregh
(Look Ma, no hands!)

--- GoldED 2.41
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #212 [700]                          Loc
 From : Gregh                               613:881/102     06 Aug 94  19:53:24
 To   : Llaptop
 Subj : Didn't know where else to put this, but this seems apropriate
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Llaptop did spiek to All about Didn't know where else to put this, but this
seems apropriate:

 L> Just have to share this with you:
 L> I read on another (unnamed) BBS a conversation between two (unnamed)
 L> women discussing a sexual fantasy around our esteemed Prime Minister
 L> being dipped in chocolate and used for their own culinary
 L> delights :-(
 L> I can understand how appealing an intelligent, important,
 L> powerful, charismatic and attractive politician can be :--)
 L> (pinocchio smiley).
 L> I have a 'menage au toi' fantasy about two prominent female
 L> politicians - Bronwin Bishop and Joan Kurner. (Actually, they
 L> are the only two prominent female politicians I know). Whilst I am
 L> reluctant to go into explicit detail, it involves dipping
 L> their plump bodies in a vat of honey and then licking it from
 L> every crack, crevice and orifice.  :-0
 L>                                       #
 L> And I thought "Death... by chocolate" users were sick!

 L>  + Origin: death... by chocolate - Home of GNNet! (613:881/0)

I'm Replying to tell you I've passed this one on to the Godnet echo alt.dubious.
:)

Gregh
(Look Ma, no hands!)

--- GoldED 2.41
 * Origin:  (613:881/102)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #213 [700]                          Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  06 Aug 94  20:00:46
 To   : All
 Subj : popes666.txt          1/3
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
=============================================================================
* Forwarded by Gregh (143:10613/1429)
* Area : CHOC_BOX (GNN The Chocolate Box)
* From : Mad Mal, 613:881/0 (04 Jul 94 17:27)
* To   : SEAN FLYNN
* Subj : popes666.txt          1/3
=============================================================================
(C) Copyright 1992 :- The contents of this file are not to be changed
or modified in anyway whatsoever. It can be distributed freely as long
as the entire contents of the file remain intact without any alterations
or additions to it whatsoever.

This file is exactly 18895 bytes long.  If this file seems
tampered with please obtain a original copy from the following address:
P.O.  Box 6129 Melbourne, Victoria, Australia  3004.  Ask for the
Hugenot Doctrine of Eschatology.

NOTE FROM THE DISTRIBUTOR:  Please spread this document everywhere
as the Jesuit movement has gone at great lengths to discredit the
true information contained herein.  By the way, did you know that the
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH has MURDERED more than 100 MILLION PEOPLE through
its Inquisitions (Spanish and Council of Trent), Civil Wars and World War I
and World War II and now the I.R.A (Catholic Actionists) and Croation
Ustashi (Catholic Actionists) are continuing the dirty work of the pope.
Its no coincidence that ADOLF HITLER, MUSSOLINI, FRANCO, ANTE PAVELIC
were dedicated ROMAN CATHOLICS and ALL of them signed agreements with the POPE
to make ROMAN CATHOLISCM the only lawful religion allowed on their turf.
No wonder 1.2 million Orthodox Serbs were slaughtered by the Croation
Catholic Nazis as the Catholic Jesuit Oath states that they are to kill
'HERETICS'  (NON-CATHOLICS).  Many people don't know the facts about
history and the related circumstances.  Even Encyclopaedia Brittanica can
confirm the above said.  Read about the Inquisitions, the Ustasha, what
Nazism really is (Catholic action undercover).  The first anti-semetics
was the Roman Catholic Church.  In 1212 a papal edict was issued
making Jews wear a yellow star (WAKEY! WAKEY!) during the inquisition.


SO MUCH FOR CHRISTIAN BROTHERLY LOVE !!!

THE TRUTH HAS BEEN COVERED UP BY  CATHOLIC OWNED MEDIA.  FORGET CONSPIRACY
THEORYS ABOUT ALIENS, THE NEW AGE, THE ILLUMINATI, THE C.F.R, THE MASONS,
THE GRAND DRUID COUNCIL  ETC.  BY SO CALLED BORN AGAIN CHRISTIANS.
THESE SO CALLED CHRISTIANS ARE ON THE PAYROLL OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.
WHAT DO YOU THINK THE ECUMENICAL MOVEMENT IS ABOUT?  ITS PURPOSE IS
TO UNITE THE 'CHRISTIAN WORLD' WITH THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.  THE ORGANISATIONS
MENTIONED ABOVE ARE SUBSERVIENT TO THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.  THE ILLUMINATI
WAS FOUNDED BY THE ORGINATOR OF THE JESUIT MOVEMENT (IGNATIUS LOYOLA) NOT
ADAM WEISSHAUPT  AS IS COMMONLY BELIEVED.  THE ILLUMINATI IS THE FINANCIAL
ARM OF THE VATICAN, FREEMASONRY IS THE PART OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH
WHICH UNITES THE INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF THE ORGANISATION (CHURCH OR
GOVERNMENT), THE NEW AGE IS A THREAT DEVISED BY THE JESUITS TO GIVE
'THE CHRISTIAN WORLD' A REASON TO TEAM UP WITH THE CATHOLIC CHURCH TO
FIGHT AGAINST. COMMUNISM WAS CREATED BY THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH TO
DESTROY THE RISING POWER AND STRENGTH OF THE EASTERN ORTHODOX CHURCH
IN RUSSIA AND EUROPE.  (NO WONDER MARX & LENIN WAS INSTRUCTED BY JESUIT
PRIESTS). DID YOU KNOW THAT A JESUIT PRIEST WROTE 'MEIN KAMPF' FOR ADOLF
HITLER AND INSRUCTED HITLER IN THE DUTIES OF BEING A FAITHFUL CATHOLIC
(KILLING NON-CATHOLICS).  THE JEWS AND LUTHERANS IN HITLERS REIGN WERE
SOLD OUT.

THE PENTECOSTAL/CHARISMATIC TONGUE SPEAKING MOVEMENT IS AN OUTPOURING
OF EVIL SPIRITS.  TRUE PROTESTANTS BELIEVE THAT THE SPRITUAL GIFTS
OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE HAVE CEASED AND THAT THE PAPACY FULFILLS ALL THE
REQUIREMENTS OF THE ANTICHRIST AS TAUGHT BY SCRIPTURE.  FORGET ABOUT
THE SEVEN OR 3.5 YEAR RAPTURE, PRE-TRIB, MID-TRIB, POST-TRIB, THE
MILLENIUM AND THE FUTURE ANTICHRIST.  THESE ARE FALSE DOCTRINES
THAT HAVE ORIGINATED FROM THE HEART OF THE JESUIT MOVEMENT.

MAY THE ORIGINAL DOCTRINES OF THE 16th Century PROTESTANT REFORMATION
BE SPREAD TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH.  BY THE WAY, A HUGUENOT IS A FRENCH
PROTESTANT WHO FOLLOWS THE TEACHINGS OF THE GREAT PROTESTANT REFORMER JOHN
CALVIN.  EVEN  PHYSICIST ISAAC NEWTON, MARTIN LUTHER, JOHN HUSS, HULDREICH
ZWINGLI, CHARLES SPURGEON, ECONOMIST ADAM SMITH, THOMAS CRANMER AND MOST
LEARNED PEOPLE UP TO THE 20th CENTURY COULD IDENTIFY THE POPE WITH
ANTICHRIST.

                THE PAPACY IS THE ANTICHRIST OF THE BIBLE REV.17-18


Now the work of Rev.Bobby LeHuguenot begins ...


(C)  Copyright 1992

This document must not be altered in any way, shape or form. It can be
distributed freely as long as it remains in its entire unaltered format.

THE HUGUENOT'S DOCTRINE OF ESCHATOLOGY

Author: Rev.Bobby Le'Huguenot

Document Date: 18-05-92


STRONG'S EXHAUSTIVE CONCORDANCE

Greek Dictionary:

ANTI-CHRIST defined

500  Antichristos  Antichrist

     from 473 and 5547; an opponent of the Messiah:- Antichrist

This definition does not clarify the meaning of Antichrist until you
study Strong's definition of ANTI, ref.473 :

473  Anti;

     a prim. particle; opposite, i.e. INSTEAD or because of (rarely in
     addition to):- for, IN THE ROOM OF. Often used in composition to
     denote contrast, requital, SUBSTITUTION, correspondence, etc.

Consequently, when the pope claims to be the head of the church on earth, he
is ursurping the office of Christ, by substituting himself for Christ as the
head of the church.
When the pope claims to be Christ's Vicar, he is substituting himself for the
Holy Spirit, whom Christ declared to be the true vicar, in the office of
vicar of christ.
When the pope claims the title of 'Holy Father' for himself, he is
substituting himself for God the Father, whom Christ called Holy Father in
John 17.

Thus according to the definition above, an antichrist is one who is an
opponent of Christ by substituting themselves in the room of or the office
of Christ, and thus robs God of what is rightfully his only.  When therefore
the pope claims to be the vicar of christ and head of the church and the
holy father, he is fulfilling the requirements of the above definition to
be justly declared ANTI-CHRIST.  So he is clearly declaring to the world
that he is none other than an Antichrist and thus an opponent of Christ who
destroys by fraud and counterfeiting.

Let Him who hath ears hear what the Spirit saith to the churches.

THE REPORT

Subject : The Name, Number, Mark of the beast, 666.

Key to Book of REVELATION:

The 2nd Beast: xiii.11. Refers to the current person which holds the office
and throne of the 'Pope'

The False Prophet : xvi.13-14 & xix.20. Refers to the current person who
holds the office and throne as the Jesuit General.

The Image of the beast: xiii.14.  Refers to the secular power of the pope,
for example the Inquisition.

HISTORY:

>>> Continued to next message

 ■ SLMR 2.1 ■

-+- EzyQwk V1.02
 + Origin: death... by chocolate - Home of GNNet! (613:881/0)
@PATH: 881/0
=============================================================================



Gregh
(Look Ma, no hands!)

--- GoldED 2.41
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #214 [700]                          Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  06 Aug 94  20:01:30
 To   : All
 Subj : popes666.txt          2/3
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
=============================================================================
* Forwarded by Gregh (143:10613/1429)
* Area : CHOC_BOX (GNN The Chocolate Box)
* From : Mad Mal, 613:881/0 (04 Jul 94 17:27)
* To   : SEAN FLYNN
* Subj : popes666.txt          2/3
=============================================================================

>>> Continued from previous message

The Beast: Rose to temporal Power under Pope Zachery in 751 A.D.

The Image: The Inquisition, though it had been formed in 1229 A.D. and
successful in its purpose, was abandoned and later ressurected in the
year 1542 (21-07-1542) around the same time the thirteenth chapter of
Revelations started to go into fulfillment.
When the Council of Trent passed it's new laws, the inquisition became
the living image of the papacy.

The False Prophet: The first Jesuit General and founder of the notorious
Jesuit Movement was Ignatius Loyolas, born in the year 1491.  The order was
established on Assumption Day 1534 and later approved by the papal decree
of Pope Paul III in 1540.
This movement is the most dangerous and deadly of all secret societies upon
the earth.  For more information read: "The Secret History of the Jesuits"
by Edmond Paris. (Available through the Christian Witness Bookshop at 524
Elizabeth sreet, Melbourne 3000)
The Jesuit Movement and the Papacy are the architects of the Tongue-Speaking
Movements and the New-Age Movements.


Definition of 666:

Revelations i.1. uses the word 'signified' and according to the Greek
Dictionary, this word means 'to show by symbols'.  When one considers the
beast mentioned in Rev. xiii., it is very clear that Revelations is written
in symbolic language.

The beast of xiii.11 is a symbolic creature, and therefore any image made
unto that creature is also a symbolic manner of speaking.  Consequently when
this symbolic image comes to life, and issues a death sentence to all who have
not his mark, that same mark is a symbolic manner of speaking.  The context
is symbolic, and therefore the laws of bible interpretation demands that we
be uniform in our translation.

Matthew Henry, a puritan preacher from some two centuries ago, had the best
translation of these symbolic pictures.  As follows:

666 in the forehead:

The symbolic expression meaning, to make an open profession of submission
to the pope.

666 in the right hand:

The symbolic expression meaning, to oblige one's self to use all your
interest, power and endeavour to promote the Pope's Authority.

Comment:

When a person claims to be a Roman Catholic, he has said to have taken the
mark, symbolically speaking.  In like manner, the IRA that uses violence to
promote the interests of the Pope, are said to have taken the mark in their
right hand.  When Judges, knowing the defendant or prosecutor's party is a
protestant and then make an unfavourable judgement to disadvantage the
protestant on the account of the person/s claiming to be a protestant, such
judges are said to have taken the mark in their right hand.

Further, to think that the mark 666 is literal, which will be imposed by a
world dictatorship is absurd, because of the amount of publicity that this
theory has received (i.e. The Omen, etc.), it makes it improbable that
people in their right mind would sell their souls to the devil and take the
mark.  Scripture is clear, that when it comes, it would be a seduction on
a global scale and people will take it in worship of the beast.

Those who know History would know how dangerous the years following the
establishment of the inquisition in 1542, and that many were not able to
buy or sell, and those caught were put to death in various methods. See the
record of History related by Matthew Henry on Rev. xiii.


A Scriptual Comparison with History

Passage: Revelations 17-18

17:1 "The great whore that sitteth upon many waters:"

FACT : The Roman Catholic Religion claims international Adherants.

17:2 "With whom the kings of the earth have committed fornication."

FACT: Not only do the Governments of the Earth have their embassies with the
      Vatican  (an actual religio-political sovereign state), and consult the
      pope for various matters, but in return they promote her doctrines and
      policies, and enrich her pockets with financial benefits.
NOTE: When Revelations speaks of the Earth it is only thinking of the Earth
      as it existed in the time of writing in A.D. 95.

17:2 "...and the inhabiters of the earth have been made drunk with the wine
      of her fornication."

FACT: There is almost no part of society which is not infested with Doctrines
      which originated from the architects in the Vatican.  We see the Love-
      Gospel, Positive-Thinking, Judge-Not, New-Age movements of various
      descriptions, penetrating almost every person in and outside the church.
      Those of this Ecumenical behaivour especially amongst the rest of the
      society hold the pope to be a 'holy' person and the Roman Catholic
      Church to be the original and true Christian Church.  Those like me
      who claim to be 'protestants' and launch an attack against this
      institution of the devil, will soon find people using the law, tongue
      or fists(violence) to defend their church...
      The Roman Catholic Church.

17:3,9,18:  "And I saw a woman sit upon a scarlet coloured beast...having
      7 heads and ten horns."
      "And the 7 heads are the 7 mountains on which the woman sitteth."
      "And the woman is that great city which reigneth over the kings of the
      earth."

FACT: In A.D. 95  which city was located on 7 hills and ruled over the kings
      of the earth???   Answer...Rome!
      Upon which city of seven hills does the Vatican sit?
      Answer...Rome!
      Who in history depicts herself as a woman with a cup and claims to be a
      Queen?  Answer...The Vatican!
      Who is the city which ruled as a tyrant over the earth for over 1200
      years after resurrecting the throne of the ancient Pagan Roman Empire?
      Answer...The Vatican sitting on the 7 Hilled city of Rome!
      Wan't more proof that this is a direct reference to the Vatican?!!

17:6  "And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with
       the blood of the martyrs of Jesus..."

FACT: Anybody who knows any history at all would know that the Vatican
      (the woman)  is 'drunk with blood' so to speak, because she is
      accredited with the deaths of some 100 Million people in the course of
      her reign, by her inquisitions and inciting hatred against those she
      anathematizes.  The term 'saints' does not refer to canonised people
      of the Vatican role, as most people think; scripture uses this term to
      refer to those who have Christ as their means of Salvation.

17:4  "The woman was arrayed in...decked with gold and precious stones and
       pearls."

FACT: The Roman Catholic Church possesses wealth beyond estimation and is
      very wealthy in Gems, Stocks, Property, and Money.  Irrespective of how
      poor she claims to be, a look at the Vatican, should in itself convince
      the doubters.  The world has yet to see her storages of wealth in the
      confines of the Vatican itself.  One Cathedral in itself is worth
      millions.  How much do you think all the cathedrals and monasteries on
      the Earth would fetch if all is sold and given to the starving in
      Africa??!!!  Remember Jesus?  He didn't even have a pillow to rest his
      head!

>>> Continued to next message

 ■ SLMR 2.1 ■

-+- EzyQwk V1.02
 + Origin: death... by chocolate - Home of GNNet! (613:881/0)
@PATH: 881/0
=============================================================================



Gregh
(Look Ma, no hands!)

--- GoldED 2.41
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #215 [700]                          Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  06 Aug 94  20:01:48
 To   : All
 Subj : popes666.txt          3/3
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
=============================================================================
* Forwarded by Gregh (143:10613/1429)
* Area : CHOC_BOX (GNN The Chocolate Box)
* From : Mad Mal, 613:881/0 (04 Jul 94 17:27)
* To   : SEAN FLYNN
* Subj : popes666.txt          3/3
=============================================================================

>>> Continued from previous message

18:4  "Come out of her my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and
       that ye receive not of her plagues."

THREAT: God promises to punish the Roman Catholic Church along with all who
        refuse to seperate from, and come out of, her.

17:16-17  "And the 10 Horns which thou sawest upon the(1st) beast shall hate
           the whore and shall make her desolate and naked and shall eat her
           flesh and burn her with fire.  For God hath put it in their hearts
           to fulfill his will, and to agree and give their kingdom unto
           the beast(2nd), until the words of God shall be fulfilled."

PREDICTION:  EUROPE WILL HATE AND DESTROY THE VATICAN and by consequences the
             Roman Catholic Religion shall cease to exist.

18:9  "And the kings of the earth, who have committed fornication and lived
       deliciously with her, shall bewail her, and lament for her, when they
       shall see the smoke of her burning,
18:10  Standing afar off for fear of her torment, saying..."

PREDICTION:  Many Governments will be powerless to stop the destruction
             of the Vatican, and because of fear of getting the same
             trouble they will 'stand afar off for fear'.  They will mourn
             her destruction, and not even the Global Police of the U.S.A
             will be able to intervene.

18:11  "And the merchants of the earth shall weep and mourn over her; for no
        man buyeth their merchandise any more:

PREDICTION:  These merchants of Roman Catholicism, including those who
             trade in doctrines and practices and goods that originate from
             the architects of the Vatican will mourn, and will suffer great
             loss at the Collapse of the Roman Catholic Religion on a
             Global Scale.  The destruction and collapse will be so fast,
             that those who are caught in this net will not even have time
             to off-load their investments before hand.  Thus Rev. 18:4
             "that ye receive not of her plagues "  will find its fulfillment
             to the finest detail.

19:20  "And the beast was taken, and with him the false prophet that wrought
        miracles before him, with which he deceived them that had received
        the mark of the beast, and them that worshipped his image.  These
        were cast alive into a lake of fire burning with brimstone."

PREDICTION:  The 2nd Beast which we declared at the start as being the
             current person on the seat of the Vatican throne, along with
             the False Prophet who is the current serving Jesuit General,
             will be alive even after the destruction of the Vatican and
             will be cast into the lake off fire at the second coming
             (literal)  of Christ.  Both the New Age Movement and the
             Tongue-Speaking Movements are the sources of these Miracles
             spoken off here, and many think it is of God, because they have
             been deceived and have taken the mark upon them, so to speak in
             a symbolic fashion.

He that hath ears to hear, consider the words of this prophecy.  Those who
desire more details need merely take the material already provided in this
document and then read Chapters 16:13-19:21  for a good clear picture which
will occur in the future.  This prophecy is unavoidable and will come to
pass, for it has been predestined before the foundations of the world by
God's decree.

CURRENT POSITION:

Rev. 16:13-21.    It is interesting to note the revival and outpouring of the
supernatural in our day.  We are witnessing the Tongue-Speaking and the
New-Age movements both uniting the world by their miracles, and both claim
it is of God; but here in this very scripture it is shown to be all of evil
spirits.  Remembering that these 'frog-like' spirits are using false doctrine
to catch their prey, even as frogs use their tongue to catch flies.
Consequently only those who have taken the mark will be the prey for these
evil spirits.  Note how the Ecumenical Movement is uniting the churches,
especially of those churches that have rejected the teachings of the
Protestant Reformers of the 16th Century and those who dabble in this miracle
phenomena of our day, which is parading around in the mask of the Holy Spirit.

Only time will prove whether Rev. 16:18 has just gone into fulfillment in the
light of the collapse of Communism and the downfall of dictators of the
former east block as possibly a fulfillment of Rev. 16:21.  But these two
scriptures are uncertain at the moment of our present history.

If you wish to communicate your response to this document you can phone or
write to me at the following address:

Reverend  Bobby Le'Huguenot
P.O. BOX 6129  Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. 3004

Phone Number - [phone]

 ■ SLMR 2.1 ■

-+- EzyQwk V1.02
 + Origin: death... by chocolate - Home of GNNet! (613:881/0)
@PATH: 881/0
=============================================================================



Gregh
(Look Ma, no hands!)

--- GoldED 2.41
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #218 [700] + 247
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  10:30:04
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : Pong.man (1 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
PONG(1)         MISCELLANEOUS NETWORK SUPPORT COMMANDS       PONG(1)
PENIX               OPERATING SYSTEM DOCUMENTATION             PENIX

NAME
     pong - net-broadcast restart message

SYNOPSIS
     pong [ - ] adnpv [ count ] [ delay ] [ path ]

DESCRIPTION
     Pong  broadcasts  a  general  `Hey, I'm here!'  message to any
     other machines on the network.   The  exact  contents  of  the
     message packet depend on  whether the machine in question is a
     Dom_Master  or  a  Sub_Server.  Pong waits for acknowledgement
     from, by default, one machine; it can be specified to wait for
     responses from up to 255 machines before resuming.  Which is a
     pretty  pointless feature  when you think about it, but it was
     piss-easy to implement, so we did.


FUNCTION LETTERS

     a    acknowledge-count.  If not specified, this defaults to one.
          It  can  be  set to zero,  in case  the machine is not on a
          network...  but  if the machine  isn't  on a network,  then
          there really isn't any point in PONGing in the first place,
          is there?   The upper limit is 255, which is also the limit
          of Dom/Sub relationships  allowed for any single Net_Clique
          of machines.

     d    Delay.  If specified, the machine will wait for this number
          of  ticks before  returning a -1 errorcode and exiting.  If
          not specified,  the  machine  will wait until it receives a
          response from another machine,  unto  eternity (or the next
          reset).

     n    Notify.  This  notifies the users that a Pong has just been
          issued.  If any  of  them  are  logged  in as the rooted(c)
          user, they may receive responses from other machines,  such
          as  `Phwooaaaaar!',  `Who did THAT?', `Jesus, that STINKS!'
          and (most frequently) `Ahhhh, SHADDUP!'

     p    Specify  alternate  packet.  Generally,  the packet sent by
          pong is determined by  the machine's Net-status (either Dom
          or Sub);  mild  variations are available, but on no account
          should a Sub_Server  attempt  to issue a Dom_Master packet,
          because  it  makes  the  actual  Dom feel inadequate.  This
          option requires  the specification of a file which contains
          the alternate packet to use.

     v    Verbose  mode.   If this option is absent,  you will see no
          response  to  the  command after execution.  Otherwise, the
          machine  will  echo  its  pong-text  on the console and any
          responses  to  it  from  other  machines,  along with their
          net-addresses.


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #219 [700] + 235
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  10:30:20
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : pong.man (2 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
EXAMPLES

      To  send  an  alternate packet structure, display responses and
      resume after four responses have been detected:

         pong apv 4 /uselss/all_kindsa_stuff/pongpacket2

      PONGing net:

      [  sub:harry_as_a_boy>>Galoot_Cologne     03F21AC4E2D1  ]
      [                                                       ]
      [  hi there, this is sub:harry_as_a_boy>>Galoot_Cologne,]
      [  i was down for an hour there because my operators    ]
      [  wanted to try out the cfts command, but i'm back     ]
      [  up now!  did anyone miss me?  :->                    ]
      [                                                       ]

      waiting for reponses:

      *** from sub:kanttner>>jefferson:
      [  go away harry you smelly little nonentity ]

      *** from dom:slick>>jefferson:
      [  piss off. ]

      *** from sub:Mammy_Nun>>galoot_cologne:
      [  we heard you de FIRSE time, okay? ]

      *** from dom:rhonda>>galoot_cologne:
      [  HARRYYYY, you are nothing but a WORRRRRRRRRRRRM! ]


FILES

/uselss/all_kindsa_stuff       Repository for alternate message
                               packets.  The default is called
                               `default'.

/uselss/little_black_book      Current LBB network list, containing
                               binary addresses of the other members
                               of the Clique.  Note: this file can
                               only be updated by the Clique's Dom.
                               This also contains the addresses of
                               any other Cliques on the network.

SEE ALSO
     bollx(1), stuffio(2), doobrie(9), brap(12), yoohoo(2),
     LBB_lookup(1), cftn(2) LBB_init(3), LBB_re_init(1), LBB_kick(1)

BUGS

     If there are no entries in /uselss/little_black_book,  or if the
     machine is not part of a Dom/Sub network (i.e. stand-alone), the
     command will  enter a tight recursive loop,  gradually consuming
     more and more CPU time until  the system either stops completely
     or  until one  of  the  caenobite  processes  gets  annoyed  and
     terminates   it.   This  can  be  dangerous,  as  the  caenobite
     processes are none too  discriminating  and  may take out one or
     two other processes along the way.  They seem to have a fondness
     for  anything  running on the system console, like the rooted(c)
     session.

     The n option can be slow.

     If  there  are  Dom-ID  packets in  the /uselss/all_kindsa_stuff
     directory of a Sub machine,  there are no mechanisms in place to
     ensure  that  the  operator  does  not  PONG  the net with a Dom
     packet.  This will upset the carefully-orchestrated hierarchy of
     the net,  causing  the  Subs to have to choose between two Doms.
     As soon as  the  Subs see a Dom-ID packet  from a machine,  they
     assume that it IS a Dom, and a moebius-hoffstaedter loop arising
     from a Sub trying  to satisfy conflicting requests from two Doms
     becomes a possibility.   This can bring down the entire net, and
     thus should be avoided,  unless the net needs to be brought down
     quickly, in which case refer to cftn(2).

     There  is  still  no  way  selectively to follow symbolic links.
     And to be brutally honest, we  don't  think there will be in the
     immediate future.

Sunburne Computer, Inc. 9 October 1991
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #221 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  21:19:36
 To   : all
 Subj : aliens!
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: [e-mail] (Bill Bill)
Organization: wareware
Subj: it will have to wait
Date: Wed, 13 Jul 1994 20:31:30 GMT


Space ship comes straight down gravity, slow, slow, touches onto the
ocean, sits and floats.

It1 and It2 go out in life bubble, float in air, see. It1 gabble
gabble It2.  It2 reach through bubble, touch cold water, gabble It1.
It1 splits in two; little-hands stay in bubble and big-hands jump
back in ship. It2 gabble little-hands. It2 pulls blue bead device
from skin pouch.

Big-hands pop out of ship, toss red bead device into bubble to
little-hands. It2 gabble gabble big-hands. It1 gabble gabble from
both little,big-hands. It2 and little-hands hold out bead devices,
hold out, hold out, blink they glow bright. Little-hands jumps back
to ship, makes It1 with big-hands.

Bead devices make a little crinkly space, It2 sees into, sees into.
It2 opens hole in bottom of bubble over water, some beads drop
through splink splink splash. It1, It2 watch cold bubble trail down
down into water. It2 sees It1, watches with small eye on the side.

It1 squeaks, "SQUEAK." It1 falls onto flat ship part, holds a ship
bump with big-hands. It2 is seeing It1. It1 slides across ship
towards life bubble, towards beads down through water. It1 goes
splash, big splash, and big trail of bubbles goes toward bead
bubbles. Will continue going.

It2 bounces and spins, creaks and creaks and creaks. It2 moves bubble
back to ship and sees over edge of ship into water. It2 pushes steam
through the two top holes, whistling and hissing.  It2 spins and
spins, puts beads into ship. It2 gabble softly, sways like when the
two moons meet at last.

It2 goes in ship, pulls bubble in ship. Ship floats up onto gas and
ship floats straight up, slow, slow. Gone.



                              [e-mail]

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #222 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  21:20:50
 To   : juliet                                              15 Aug 94  20:12:50
 Subj : cats, or why i like annie@canetoad
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Annie)
Organization: The Satellite of Love
Subject: Cats (Jake Update)


>Child surrogates.  They are child surrogates.  When
>they are unhappy, we wince as if they had our DNA.
>We truck them to distant vets.  We talk to them when
>we pill them, as if explaining why would help.  We
>anthropomorphize happily.

"Jake? Do you feel as if you're a child trapped in
a cat's body? Or do you feel like a cat trapped in
a human's house?"

"Mrwoooow!"

"That's what I thought."


Annie

---

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #223 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  21:21:46
 To   : Sir Robin
 Subj : the inevitable T2 joke
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Area: talk.bizarre
Date: 25 May 94  06:28:35
From: dava kingsley (3:632/103.666)
Subj: Found Things in Frozen Vegetables


 t> Most of my friends eat so fast they'd probably never notice it.
 t> Personally, I'd tell the manufacturer. I might have a small piece of
 t> plastic in my vegetables, but what if someone else got metal parts from
 t> the motor this plastic piece was attached to?



i bought a packet of frozen peas a few months back, and it had a
broken-off part of some kind of silicon chip in it - it looked a bit
like a cadbury's chocolate bar, you know -

   __    __    __    ___
  [  ]__[  ]__[  ]__[  /
 =[__]~~[__]~~[__]~~[_/
 = II    II    II    I
 =[  ]__[  ]__[  ]__[/
  [__]~~[__]~~[__]~~'


it also had a skeletal looking sort of mechanical hand, but that
wasn't as hard to spot.




d

---
 * Origin: two point seven one eight two something   (3:632/103.666)

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #224 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  21:22:40
 To   : Tal Meta
 Subj : our friend the electron
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


From: [e-mail] (M. Legare, etc.)
Subj: the bleeding edge of technology
Organization: Castle Wetware's Western Keep


the blocks fit together so nicely.  click click click click and we're
done. now children, watch the happy electron

bip bip bip bip bip  very nice, isn't it?

whoops.


that, children, is why grounding is so very important.

BoB
teCh
bactine?

--
if one falls on you,
we just carve your name on it
and leave it there...
[e-mail]
---
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #225 [700] + 297                    Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  21:23:44
 To   : juliet                                              15 Aug 94  20:13:04
 Subj : love
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


From: [e-mail] (Annie)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subj: silly married talk
Organization: The Satellite of Love



"So baby, would YOU love ME if I had no arms, no legs, no boobs, and you
had to wrap me in oiled grape leaves every night?

"Well. I'd keep you around."

Annie



---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #226 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  21:27:14
 To   : all
 Subj : Moo-BBS
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

    ---------------------------------------------------------------
         T H E    R A N C H   A N D   C A T T L E   R E P O R T
    ---------------------------------------------------------------
    VOL 2 - ISSUE 4              -                       APRIL 1994

           Utilizing a ZYXEL modem maufactured by midgets
           at the NE Mississippi Cattle Prod and Computer Co.

             Ranch & Cattle - University of Sasquatch
         -=-=-=-= New User Questionaire Results =-=-=-=-=-
           Includes 97 NEWBIES between 3/20/94 & 4/23/94

         Questions & Stats                  Interesting replies
=======================================================================
How are you involved in Agriculture?

An actual 11 are! 4.8%             I eat cows and chickens sometimes.
Lots of eating.                    Grow funny green plants. 4
Lots of none.                      I breath oxygen the plants make.
I'm a cowboy 2.0%                  I'm a duck.
                                   Just looking for adult entertainment
                                   I've killed a lot of nice plants.
=======================================================================
Are you a vegetarian?

12 actually are. .6%       Only on days that don't end with 'Y'.
Interesting for THIS       Depends on how close to payday it is.
 part on the country       Depends on whos cooking.
                           Yuk.
                           Unprintable - 2
=======================================================================
Are you a vegetable?

No           64.1%         I called here, didn't I!
Sometimes    16.1%         Does couch potatoe count? - 4
Yes          11.2%         No - mineral.
other         8.5%         Nope - nuts.
                           Friday nights at closing time.
=======================================================================
What is your hat size?

intelligent answers averaged 8.8   <----- This big ----->
                                   not as big as my head
                                   The same size as my head.
                                   WHO CARES?
========================================================================
What is your shoe size?

intelligent answers averaged 10.6  about like a vast sand pit
                                   Shoe?
                                   DON'T WEAR'EM
========================================================================
Whats the difference between a Yam and a sweet potato?

Only 53 said 'nothing'.            I yam what I yam.    Roots.
                                   Spelling.
Uh...sheesh...is this a riddle?    8 letters
A yam is stringy, sweet pot. not.  Yams come in cans.
Yam inners are white, pot. orange. They both suck, one just harder.
Yam is a Yankee sweet tater.       10 cents a pound.
Yam is fruit, potatoe is vegie.    89 cents a pound.
One is a potatoe, other a tuber.   It's social security number.
Yam is the politically correct name for a candied sweet potatoe.
Sweet potatoes are longer.         Yams worry more about their looks.
========================================================================
Names and types of all your pets?

No pets  25%                       37 ft anaconda - Snuggles.
                                   Bull - Pickles.
Dog/wife - DeeDee                  Wife - Cindy.
Invisible friend - Charlie         Cockroaches - &*%#$
Cat-dead leech-Sanford leech-Son   Husband - Eddie
Felinious Agitatous.               Wildabeest - Luther.
Rattlesnake - Marcia.              Slug - Slimey.
Flea - Herbie.                     Paramecium - Tooter.

(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #227 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  21:27:28
 To   : all
 Subj : more Moo-BBS
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

========================================================================
Do you get dressed sock-sock shoe-shoe or sock-shoe sock-shoe?

Sock-Sock 80%

Underwear, left leg, right leg, shoe, shoe, sock, tie, sock, hat, coat.
Mommy still dresses me.                     Whats a sock?
Shoe-Shoe,Sock-Sock.                        Shoe-Shoe.
Dont wear either.                           I don't get dressed at all.
I'm not anal retentive enough to care.      I wear Panyhose.
========================================================================
What is your favorite slang expression?

FUCK!                              Fuck'in A
hey ya'll!"                        too cool
Pardon me...do you swallow?        Tres Cool!
eat-a-potatoe-dude                 up yours
bite me                            Well
Can't say it here                  What a BEAUTIFUL day!
cha ching                          What are you looking at shithead.
chill                              WHAT'S UP
Chill out                          whoa baby
Cool                               Why Daddy?
copasetic                          Wrong Sportsfan!
cuzz                               y'all
dad gummit                         Yea, right
dag nab it anyway                  YEP
damm                               Yo
damn, I'm good                     Yo honky.
dang                               YOU DAMN RIGHT
darn                               you dink
doggone                            you old yard dog you
don't have a cow dude              you only get what you settle for
dude                               Yuck Fou
dumbass                            gaaaah
dweeb                              gee
eat me                             get a grip
EAT SHIT                           get a life
eat worms                          Get Buck
STARTIN TO P--- ME OFF             GO FOR IT
FINE NO PROBLEM                    nerd
groovy                             no
Hammer Down!                       No way Jose'
HELP                               not a problen
HEY MAN                            not no, but hell no!
Hey man whats happening            NOT!
HI                                 Oh, Hell
holy smoke                         OH, SHIT!!!!
HOOTERS                            ohmigod
hosed                              ok
Hot dang!                          Outa here!
hotdog                             quack
how come                           SHAZZZAMMMMM!
huh????                            shit
I don't know                       SHIT HAPPENS
I don't think you understand       Shit head
I GOT MINE                         shitzta
i hate it                          shoot
I know what cha mean.              sounds like a personnal problem
I'll be back                       That's life
I'LL TALK AT YA LATER              it ain't necessairily so
My karma ran over your dogma.      kiss my rebel ass
Mortar Forker                      LATER DUDE
fuller than a tick on fat dog's back                 MAN
gosh darn it mildred, get out of the freezer
is that a computer in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me
is that a duck on your head or are you just happy to see me?
Mortar Forking Booger Schnotting But-wipe

                  (__)
                  (OO)  What a crowd, What a crowd........
                   \/

  What if a Milkman ran a BBS? - Ranch and Cattle - Plymouth, MN
                                 [phone] FREE PUBLIC SITE
                                 Internet Email - UseNet News
---

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #228 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.903 Aug 94  21:28:50
 To   : tien                                                08 Aug 94  02:16:54
 Subj : hidden christian origins
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


From: [e-mail] (James Price)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subj: Wine, Bread and Cum


HI!
This is my first attempt at writing erotica.
I would love any comments or suggestions.
Please mail them to jprice\@hopper.acs.virginia.edu

************************************************************
This is an EXPLICIT SEX STORY!!!!  It contains EXPLICIT
SEX!  IF YOU DO NOT LIKE SEX BECAUSE YOU ARE A COMMIE OR
SOMETHING, DO NOT READ IT, D00D!
************************************************************
              WINE, BREAD AND CUM
                     pt. 1
              by James Christian Price

She's an attractive Jewish teenager, a virgin. Alone, in her bed,
sweaty and panting from exertion. Her legs wide open, her back arched
and chest heaving. Her nipples erect, her face flushed, eyes closed.

She cries out, in pleasure. "Oh God, Oh God," she screams as she
comes again.

Three decades later.

He is the charismatic leader of a new religious cult. Found guilty of
highest crimes and sentenced to death. His followers believe that he
must be sacrificed as a blood ransom. He grins as he is lead to
death.

He is whipped and scourged, in public, yet he presents a sublime
smile. Crowned with thorns, his penis engorges with blood. He gasps
as his limbs are pierced with large iron spikes. His friends gather
about, to witness his humiliation. Time passes, his body fluids seep
into the fertile earth slowly. His frame tenses, his muscles tighten,
his body jerks, erect, stiff, he cries out and dies.


Hope you enjoyed it.
James

---
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #231 [700]
 From : Ace Lightning                       143:143/1       05 Aug 94  18:49:42
 To   : All
 Subj : Isn't she disgusting? 1/2
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
We had a series of violent thunderstorms here today, and I was working
on this mail packet when the power went off. When we finally got our
electricity back, and I re-booted the computer, this message had
mysteriously added itself to my mail packet.

I think the story is absolutely *DISGUSTING* - it goes way beyond
"squick" - and I wouldn't even leave it in the packet if I had a choice;
but who am I to argue with someone who can zap a whole neighborhood,
just to get her message posted?
                    -------------------------
This message was from METONYMOUS BOSCH to ACE LIGHTNING,
and was forwarded to you by ACE LIGHTNING.
                    -------------------------
                           RED WINGS
                               by Metonymous Bosch

...They were all pretty drunk, that bunch of biker wannabees that hung
out in my bar. Between their obnoxious behavior and the lateness of the
hour, all the other patrons had left. Their table was littered with beer
pitchers, half-eaten sandwiches, cigarette butts, and less savory
debris. But at least it gave me a chance to finish my own supper,
between their calls for more beer. I chewed the last bite of a
microwaved sausage-and-pepper hero as I delivered yet another pitcher to
their table.

"But only the *toughest* Hell's Angels earn their 'red wings'. You know
what that means?" said Allen. He was the bigmouth, and alcohol just
increased his bluster.

"No, but you're gonna tell us anyway," said Dan. Dan was the drunkest of
the bunch. "So tell us already."

"Well, you gotta get one of the biker bitches who's on the rag. Then you
go down on her until she comes. She's gotta really be bleedin', and
she's gotta swear she didn't fake it or nothin' when she comes."

"Aahh, that's not tough. Just go down on some bitch till she comes? Why
do the Angels think this is so tough?" demanded Dan.

"She's got the curse, see. She's on the rag. Bleedin'. It's really
disgusting. Most guys puke when they try it."

"Does it disqualify you if you puke?"

"Nope. Just as long as you make her come. Then they take like Air Force
wings and paint 'em red, and you wear 'em pinned on your colors. Shows
all the other Angels how tough you are."

"Well, it still don't sound so tough to me," said Dan, taking a swig of
beer. "I bet I could do it. I bet I wouldn't even puke."

"Oh, yeah? I'd like to see you prove it!" sneered Allen.

"Well, you don't see any biker bitches hangin' with us, do ya?" said
Dan. "But if we had some women here, I'd show ya!"

Of *course* these losers had no women hanging out with them. No woman in
her right mind would want any of them. I felt nothing but contempt for
the whole bunch. But, as it happened, I was at that very moment
menstruating. On a sudden, perverse whim, I stepped out from behind the
bar and said, "You're on, Dan. Prove to the guys how tough you really
are."

"Suzie! Suzie the barmaid! You really on the rag, Suzie?" To answer
them, I reached under my skirt and pulled out a blood-dripping tampon. I
dropped it into Dan's half-empty beer glass as the group made rude
noises. "Okay, Dan..."

I pulled up my skirt and lay back on an empty table, my bleeding crotch
near the edge. Dan knelt in front of me as I spread my legs wide. His
face went pale as he got a whiff of the menstruous odor, and his buddies
jeered. I smiled to myself; what a pathetic bunch of posers! In a jokey
voice I said, "Go ahead...make me come."

I didn't think Dan could make me come with three vibrators and a
truckload of spare batteries. I felt nothing but contempt, verging on
loathing, for this drunken lout. He'd never win his "red wings", but I
could humiliate him as he tried.

Hesitantly, Dan licked at my crotch. He gagged slightly, and his pals
jeered him again. He steadied himself and started to establish a sort of
rhythm, licking mainly at my clit. I was surprised to find myself
actually beginning to feel aroused. Of course, his technique was
terrible, but the notion of how I was degrading and humiliating him
added to my excitement. Then, in a moment of bravery, he stuck his
tongue right into my cunt. His buddies' cheers drowned out his faint
retching noises.

"Hey, Suzie, are you about to come?" yelled Allen. "Not even close!" I
replied truthfully. I was beginning to enjoy the perverted situation,
though. I had the power to make this man look stupid in front of his
companions. And they didn't realize how stupid they ALL were in the
first place.

>>> Continued to next message

---
 ■ SLMR 2.0 ■ Pornography? I don't even *own* a pornograph!
--- Renegade v5-31 Exp
 * Origin: Phoenix Modernz Systems (143:143/1)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #232 [700] + 246
 From : Ace Lightning                       143:143/1       05 Aug 94  18:49:44
 To   : All
 Subj : Isn't she disgusting? 2/2
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
>>> Continued from previous message

Dan licked me some more, concentrating mainly on my clit, which must
have been a little less disgusting for him. It was a LOT more
stimulating for me, though, and eventually even this crowd of louts
noticed; I was sweating, my breathing was uneven, and I had begun to
move my hips against the hardwood table. I lifted my head and called to
Dan, "Stick your tongue in my cunt again. I want you to tongue-fuck me."

Dan did his best to comply, but he started to gag and retch again. The
guys laughed at him. He took a couple of deep breaths, and tried putting
his tongue in me again. I writhed, not faking anything at all.

"Finish her off, Dan!" shouted Allen. I thrust my pelvis into his face.
He retched, harder this time, but stuck his tongue in as deep as it
would go. I felt the sensations beginning inside my lower abdomen; as
the muscles began to contract, the onions and peppers from my sandwich
made their presence known in a huge, uncontrollable fart.

That was more than Dan could take. With an agonized belching sound, he
heaved and started to vomit. And that was more than *I* could take. As
Dan regurgitated my own blood and mucus, mixed with used beer and pizza,
all over my crotch and thighs and belly, I came. My spasms were
synchronized with his heaves. Finally, he had nothing left to puke up,
and he knelt there retching dryly. I regained my composure enough to
look down at him. Nobody said anything for a few moments.

"Uh, I guess Dan won his 'red wings'," said Allen.
---
 ■ SLMR 2.0 ■ Pornography? I don't even *own* a pornograph!
--- Renegade v5-31 Exp
 * Origin: Phoenix Modernz Systems (143:143/1)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #234 [700] - 217 + 265              Rcv
 From : Ace Lightning                       143:143/1       06 Aug 94  22:42:40
 To   : Arifel                                              16 Aug 94  10:20:56
 Subj : Re: hug!
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
AR> AL> Sounds like you also need a hug. Consider yourself hugged. (But only
  > AL> if you hug back, of course.)
AR>butofcourse.  i see hugs something like network echograms; when one
  >machine sends out a `ping!', the other machine should respond with a
  >similar `ping!' back, unless it can't for some reason.

That could lead to something analogous to the old demonstration of a
nuclear chain reaction. You know...the one where they take a roomful of
mousetraps with Ping-Pong balls balanced on the springs, and toss one
random Ping-Pong ball into the room...it triggers a mousetrap, tossing
another ball into the air...which triggers another mousetrap, tossing
yet another ball...the balls bounce, triggering more and more
mousetraps, tossing more and more Ping-Pong balls into the air, which
trigger MORE mousetraps...until the entire roomful of mousetraps has
been triggered, and all the balls slowly bounce down to a standstill.

Except that in a theoretically infinite network, there should be no end
to the giving and receiving of hugs... :-)
---
 ■ SLMR 2.0 ■ Flattery will get you nowhere...but please don't stop!
--- Renegade v5-31 Exp
 * Origin: Phoenix Modernz Systems (143:143/1)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #240 [700] + 259
 From : dava                                143:10613/1429.907 Aug 94  05:50:30
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : Rubber Nipple Salesmen
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

 AL>   > * Origin: how do i know you're not from the FBI?


 AL> Because people from the FBI are usually (but not always) male, have NO
 AL> sense of humor, are a great deal more proficient with firearms than I
 AL> am, tend to dress mostly in gray, and rarely smile.

a)   what about thingo, from `Silence of the Lambs'?  a-and dale
     cooper, from `Twin Peaks'?

b)   that was a quote from `Rubber Nipple Salesmen', the episode of
     Ren and Stimpy where they go to sell some rubber nipples to Mr
     Horse.  he answers the door dressed in tight rubber which creaks
     in an unusual way...


Mr Horse:   Do I know you?

Ren:        I don't think so... would you like to take a look at some
            fine rubber nipples?

Mr Horse:   Did my wife send you?

Ren:        No, sir.  But you look like someone who could really use
            some rubber nipples.

<pan up Mr Horse's body, covered in rubber>

Mr Horse:   How do I know you're not from the FBI?

Ren:        Sir - I can assure you, we're only salesmen -

Mr Horse:   ALL RIGHT, so I MADE a mistake!  ONE MISTAKE!  Can't a
            man START OVER?  DO I have to KEEP ON PAYING?   HUH?
            Maybe I should (heh) make another mistake!  <leans close>
            Maybe TWO MORE!

Ren (terrified)  Please, sir, I think one mistake is plenty!  Just
            let me show you what's inside here! (opens sample case)

Mr Horse (shrinks back) Don't do it, man!  I'm not armed!

Ren         We really just want to sell you some rubber nipples!
            See? (holds out nipple)

Mr Horse    (shrinks back in abject terror, then sees the nipple, and
            recovers)  Oh!  It is a nipple!  Ha ha ha ha... Oh, what
            you must think of me.  Forget everything I said!  (hands
            on hips)  So, nipples, huh?  Hmmm... No, sir, I don't
            think I have any use for rubber nipples.  (thinks
            further, then a strange excitement comes into his
            expression)  I'll tell you what, though... do you have
            any rubber WALRUS PROTECTORS? (he hauls out a walrus,
            holding it by a single hair at the top of its head)

Walrus (in closeup, whispers) Call the police!





d

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #241 [700] - 230 + 242              Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.907 Aug 94  05:51:50
 To   : Gregh                                               09 Aug 94  08:30:58
 Subj : Re: Might have been this
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

 G> Come to think of it, such a QWK would make a pretty good addition to
 G> the file areas here!  Maybe I should do a monthly archive.  But I'd
 G> have to get rid of off-topic of boring drivel like this message.


if you'd like, i could dump all of the messages in here to ascii, in
one huge text-file.  it might make interesting reading.



---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #242 [700] - 241 + 244              Rcv Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  09 Aug 94  20:54:32
 To   : Arifel                                              16 Aug 94  10:20:58
 Subj : Might have been this
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Arifel did spiek to Gregh about Re: Might have been this:

 G>> Come to think of it, such a QWK would make a pretty good addition to
 G>> the file areas here!  Maybe I should do a monthly archive.  But I'd
 G>> have to get rid of off-topic of boring drivel like this message.


 A> if you'd like, i could dump all of the messages in here to ascii, in
 A> one huge text-file.  it might make interesting reading.

Since my collection (praise SBBS ... not) is incomplete, sold!

Gregh

--- GoldED 2.41+
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #261 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.909 Aug 94  08:53:42
 To   : Traveler
 Subj : Re: copeland?
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 * Forwarded from area "Godnet occult" (GODMA014)
 * Originally from: Arifel (143:10613/1429.93)
 *              to: Traveler
 *            date: 09 Aug 94  08:49:19

 T> <shrug> My nearsightedness is simply a function of my family.  Note,
 T> not necessarily my genetic background; no, I mean my family... the
 T> surnames Marlowe and Copeland.


excerpt from something i posted in Talk.Bizarre.  this guy is in an
alien cafeteria:


  over in the far corner, four Tsialo, large afghan hounds without
  eyes.  six legs; like the Moridani, they used their front set of
  paws to hold things. they looked like they were getting seriously
  into a bowl of spaghetti the size of a truck tyre, splashing sauce
  all over the place.  they were jumping around excitedly, having a
  hell of a time.  i hoped they didn't get drunk and come over here;
  i'd been followed around for days by a Tsialo that had somehow
  gotten interested in the work of Stewart Copeland, and insisted
  that since i'd come from the same system, i should know everything
  about this guy (a percussionist, apparently).


a relative, i presume?

:)


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #263 [700] - 246
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.909 Aug 94  10:55:04
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : Re: Isn't she disgusting? 2/2
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

 AL> "Uh, I guess Dan won his 'red wings'," said Allen. ---


(typing slowly)

i've seen this before, somewhere.  i think it was back when i hung
around with Siaoubo, who hung out with biker types.  lots of copies
of `Easy Rider' around the house.

and i don't think it's disgusting.  don't the ceremonials refer to it
as the Mystery of The Red Gold?




---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #266 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.909 Aug 94  11:01:20
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : caenobite processes
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

 AL>   >     They seem to have a fondness
 AL>   >     for  anything  running on the system console, like the
 AL>   >     rooted(c) session.

 AL> Shouldn't that be "caenobyte"?


heh.


caenobites
           this is something we aren't particularly proud of here at
           Sunburne, but we think that you should know about, in the
           interests of safety.  we will admit that the circumstances
           that led us to developing Penix are slightly unusual, and
           that there is quite a bit about this system that was, er,
           inherited. We're not saying that we stole it.  but there
           are large areas of this system that we know nothing about,
           but which, when we remove them, the system stops. we don't
           know exactly what caenobite tasks do, but we have found
           that you can't kill them; you can't stop them; you can't
           even slow them down.  whenever we use the motu command to
           alter their timeslice, they completely ignore it (this may
           be due to the fact that we think motu's orders are passed
           to the rest of the system by a caenobite task). they can
           be incited to remove other tasks by passing them a
           BOX_OPEN message packet, but they are best left alone.
           thank god there are usually only about four of them.


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #267 [700] + 275
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.909 Aug 94  11:06:02
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : booting Penix (1 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

    one does not re-BOOT a Penix system; it is `re-shoed'.  If you
    boot a Penix system, it will fall apart.  Reshoe-ing involves
    locating the sock partition, socking it, then looking about for
    something that resembles a shoe-block (a disk-block with startup
    information on it).  once located, the shoe-block is overlaid
    onto the sock partition and is `laced'. At the request of our
    user, we have incorporated dual shoe partitions, to enable disk
    mirroring.  the System must always be re-shoed from the same
    partition; if you get the left-shoe and the right-shoe partition
    mixed up, then after re-shoeing, the system will take a few
    tottering steps and will then fall over. be extremely careful
    about modifying the lacing procedure, as it is quite easy to lace
    the two partitions together... as you can imagine, this can be
    VERY dangerous, and any system with its shoes laced together
    won't run very well.

    scanning the sock partition for a shoe block can be a time-
    consuming process; if the entire hard disk had to be examined, it
    could take days.  an algorithm has been implemented that scans
    disk blocks at random, on the assumption that there will be more
    than one shoe block on the disk (this is a standard security
    feature - in fact, more than half of the disk's blocks are
    usually allocated as shoe-blocks, to save time when looking for
    one to shoe from).

example of console messages on booting:

Penix v37.019a ROMrev 76:e_beta (development)
            shoe in progress
     locating sock partition
           scanning SCSI bus  *******
      scanning st506 devices  **
           getting desperate
      scanning floppy drives  **
    getting really desperate
         scanning tape drive  *
  sock located on tape drive

  *** CLEAN SOCK LOCATED ***

     scanning SCSI bus again  ******
  loading SCSI device driver

           scanning for shoe
             block at RANDOM  ....................................
                              ....................................
                              ....................................
                              .................... bingo

left shoe located at cyl:00.head:15.sec:16

         loading shoe block
                 processing   ......................................
                              ............. ignoring checksum errror
  overlaying sock partition
                     lacing   **** shoe partition LACED, Booting
--------------------------------------------------------------------
walnut located, processing ..... done
system boot, 17:29:04   25 March 1992
system ID: Dom:Rhonda>>Galoot_Cologne

do you want to inhibit DAEMON processes at this time (default=n)? n
do you want to inhibit AENGEL processes at this time (default=n)? n
do you want to inhibit NYEMPH processes at this time (default=n)? n
do you want to inhibit MAENAD processes at this time (default=n)? n
do you want to inhibit SPRITE processes at this time (default=n)? n
do you want to inhibit GOELEM processes at this time (default=n)? n
do you want to inhibit CAENOBITE processes at this time (default=y)? y
too bad. you can't.


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #268 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.909 Aug 94  11:06:28
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : booting penix (2 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

starting Daemons:  spon   spoo   furph   wrack   wruin   hobble
                   castrate   whats_all_this_then   drooler

starting Aengels:  moroni  goliad  mikayel  cefiar  lucifuge_rofocale

starting Nyemphs:  dom_net_prep   dom_net_enquire  TOPY_server
                   EN_server  spk_server  DVA_server  sK_pup_server

starting Maenads:  *** Maenad table is empty

starting Sprites:  cursor_flash  keyboard_click
                   annoying_floppy_drive_noise

starting Goelems:  lif_dat_wait   tote_dat_bail   get_a_little_drunk

starting Caenobites: pinhead   butterball   chatterer   face   atkins
                     balberith abigor       chidna      basilisk
                     gehenna   flagellum    lace        whirl_jack

this is a DOM net_device: initialising SpankIO
                                       WhipIO
locating LNCs...  done.
locating sPURs... done.
locating CONT...  done.

establishing cat_o_nine_tails netlink... done.
locating subs:

        Sub:Harry_as_a_boy>>Galoot_Cologne
        Sub:Noxiuma_tapioca>>Galoot_Cologne
        Sub:Algonquin_Jane_Cowhoon>>Galoot_Cologne
        Sub:Obdullah_X>>Galoot_Cologne

*** SpankIO Warning:
    no response from Sub:Harry_as_a_boy>>Galoot_Cologne

*** Console Message from Caenobite Process ::pinhead::

:: the system... you booted it... we initialised, now you must
:: work with us, taste OUR pleasure!
::
:: we have such sights to show you!

initialising serIOus lines  000  001  002  003



---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #277 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Ace Lightning                       143:143/1       11 Aug 94  20:52:02
 To   : Arifel                                              16 Aug 94  10:21:04
 Subj : aye, HERE'S the rub   1/2
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Well, here's MY conclusion to your wonderful little story:
                ********************************
Every fortnight, whether or not the dictates of current fashion required it,
Ace went along to Catherine's for a trim, a shampoo and the impromptu
massage that had become a feature for certain regulars of the
establishment.

She arrived just after midday, when the few customers who'd taken lunch
off for some follicle adjustment were being ushered out. Draping her coat
over the back of the old leather couch, she waved to Alia, the twenty-six-
year-old ex-punk who was nominally in charge of the Salon when
Catherine wasn't in. Alia was wearing an old `Country Road' windcheater
which came down to her knees. It had several strategically-placed rents,
barely held together by lines of nappy-pins; carefully laddered black
stockings and metal-studded suede boots completed the ensemble. Her
glittering black, fabric-glue-stiffened coif, poking up almost a foot above
her head, would have done Robert Smith proud.

After exchanging the usual pleasantries, Alia led her by the hand around to
the rear of the salon and pressed her into the chair, for her preparatory
shampoo. This chair was a wonder; originally a dentist's chair, it had been
installed by Catherine to allow a wide degree of flexibility, allowing the
positioning of the client in practically any position. Alia smiled, humming to
herself as she collected bottles of shampoo and conditioner. A young girl
with shoulder-length pale gold hair, dressed in a grey school-girl's uniform,
pushed aside the curtain and whispered something to Alia, who paused and
then pointed to the chair. The girl smiled and entered the rear section of the
salon, carefully closing the curtains behind her.

`This is Sue. She'll be assisting in today's operation.'  Ace smiled; Alia
always referred to it as `the operation', the use of terms with secondary,
private meanings lending a conspiratorial air to the proceedings.

Sue moved around behind the chair, rotating it slightly so that Ace's hair
fell into the basin, and began rinsing it with water which was only just on
the bearable side of scalding. Despite her apparent youth, Sue was a skilled
tactile therapist, massaging the first of several conditioning treatments into
Ace's scalp with firm, insistent motions of her fingers. Meanwhile, Alia had
removed Ace's shoes and was palpitating the ball and instep of her right
foot with practiced brutality.

Ace sighed with pleasure at the ministrations of the two young women.
The new girl, Sue, had remarkably deft fingers. Whatever she was doing to
Ace's scalp felt wonderful ('although she should lose that stupid schoolgirl
drag', thought Ace). Catherine had conditioners and shampoos made up
specially for her salon; they were scented with natural herbs and botanicals,
and they smelled like the first day of Spring to Ace. The fragrant steam that
swirled around her head as Sue worked on her hair was almost as relaxing
as the actual massage.

Meanwhile, Alia was alternating back and forth between Ace's feet, so as
to keep her relaxation evenly balanced. Her strong hands knew just where
the knots in the muscles were, and how to un-knot them. Ace wiggled her
toes with relief as her feet and legs began to lose their tension under Alia's
experienced touch.

Waves of relaxation spread through Ace's body from her head and her feet,
and she drifted into a half-doze as the 'operation' progressed. Sue finished
massaging her scalp and washing her hair, and wrapped her head in a fluffy
towel; then she continued her massage down Ace's usually-tense neck and
shoulders. Meanwhile, Alia worked her way up Ace's calves, the expert
pressure relieving tensions Ace had forgotten she had. It felt very good to
just lie passively in the chair while the young women did things to her.

In this half-aware state, Ace gradually realized that the waves of sensuous
pleasure that swept from her feet and her head towards the center of her
body had taken on a decidedly erotic overtone. Alia was now vigorously
massaging Ace's thighs, while Sue's equally skilled hands were working on
Ace's collarbones, just above her breasts. Neither of the girls was doing
anything improper, but the experience was rapidly becoming more sexual
than sensuous.

The two younger women became aware of Ace's growing arousal. They
exchanged a look; then Alia smiled, and her deep pressure changed to a
titillating caress on the inside of Ace's thighs. Sue bent over Ace's head,
their faces mutually upside-down, and kissed Ace full on the mouth, giving
her just a hint of her tongue. At the same time, Sue's hands slid down to
Ace's breasts and began a gentle circular motion on both nipples.

Ace gasped, startled by the erotic intensity of the two girls' stimulating her
at once. But the relaxed feelings from the earlier stages of the massage had
left her in a "go with the flow" kind of mood, and she continued to lie
passively (except for the occasional involuntary twitch) as new waves of
pleasure swept up and down through her body.

Alia proved to be as skilled at outright frottage as she was at massage, and
without even removing any of Ace's clothing she stimulated her sex until
Ace's hips undulated. Without missing a stroke, Alia bent her head to Ace's
bare feet and sucked shamelessly on her big toe; the unexpected sensation
almost made Ace cry out. But Ace's moans were stifled by Sue, who
proved to be an incredibly good kisser; her soft schoolgirl mouth and busy
tongue were an entirely new experience for Ace. Sue's hands were still
stimulating Ace's nipples through her clothing.

>>> Continued to next message

---
 ■ SLMR 2.0 ■ Forever trusting who we are...and nothing else matters.
--- Renegade v5-31 Exp
 * Origin: Phoenix Modernz Systems (143:143/1)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #278 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Ace Lightning                       143:143/1       11 Aug 94  20:52:02
 To   : Arifel                                              16 Aug 94  10:21:04
 Subj : aye, HERE'S the rub   2/2
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
>>> Continued from previous message

The combined stimulation was maddening; Ace writhed and sobbed,
thinking that she couldn't endure this level of sexual arousal for long, but
despairing of ever being stimulated completely to orgasm. The girls seemed
to sense her desperation, and their four-handed performance intensified.
Sue pinched Ace's nipples and thrust her tongue deeply into Ace's mouth,
while Alia's strong fingers found Ace's clitoris through trousers and panties.
Ace rose clear off the adjustable chair as her back arched with the first
spasms of climax. But this was not like the sharp, intense orgasms Ace was
used to. This rose slowly higher and higher, and higher yet, until it reached
a peak unlike anything she'd ever felt before. The dropoff was just as
gradual, subsiding like a wave washing back out to sea, lasting longer than
she thought possible.

For what might have been the first time in her entire life, Ace's body was
completely relaxed, every muscle devoid of tension; she felt boneless,
almost liquid, and filled with a feeling of peaceful satiation. She might have
even fallen asleep, except that Alia and Sue were still busy.

The girls were flushed and breathing rapidly; apparently by arousing Ace,
they had aroused themselves as well. They clung together in a passionate
kiss that rivaled anything heterosexual Ace had ever seen. Somehow they
disrobed each other without breaking the kiss; soon schoolgirl grey and
post-punk black were tossed on the floor, and the two young women were
frantically caressing each other. Alia sucked at Sue's small, immature
breasts, while Sue had her clever fingers deep in Alia's crotch.

After some more frantic kissing and fondling, the two young women settled
into a classic "sixty-nine" position on the floor beside the dentist's chair.
Ace watched, mesmerized by the exhibition of lesbian lust going on almost
at her feet. Although she was still sated from her own just-concluded
exquisite experience, the sight of two women lapping each other's clits
began to get Ace aroused again. But before anything more could happen,
they brought each other to simultaneous sobbing orgasms. They lay
together for a few moments, catching their breath. Then Alia got up and
helped Sue to her feet. They quickly tossed on their clothes, and Alia came
over to Ace and removed the towel from her hair. She began to comb Ace's
hair out as usual, as if nothing had happened except an ordinary shampoo.
Sue handed Alia the blow-dryer, and together they finished Ace's hair
styling.

"Okay, you're done," said Alia. Ace sat up and fumbled in her purse. She
paid for her normal salon visit....and added a HUGE tip.
---
 ■ SLMR 2.0 ■ Forever trusting who we are...and nothing else matters.
--- Renegade v5-31 Exp
 * Origin: Phoenix Modernz Systems (143:143/1)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #282 [700] - 270 + 285              Rcv
 From : Tal Meta                            143:143/1       11 Aug 94  21:20:14
 To   : Arifel                                              16 Aug 94  10:21:04
 Subj : Re: text
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
In case y'all forgot, Arifel babbled about Re: text
to Gregh on 09 Aug 94  11:08:58...

A> actually, LTUAE is an australian fido echo; it doesn't go to the
A> states.  and it wasn't acutally Tom the Sysop who snabbed the story,
A> it was one of his users.  ah well.  if i didn't want people to see
A> it, i shouldn't have posted it.

Quite correct.

I am a keeper of secrets. I know far too many things that I don't.

--- Renegade v5-31 Exp
 * Origin: Phoenix Modernz Systems (143:143/1)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #292 [700] + 309                    Rcv Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  15 Aug 94  12:05:54
 To   : Arifel                                              16 Aug 94  10:21:04
 Subj : Baseball
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
=============================================================================
* Forwarded by Gregh (143:10613/1429)
* Area : POPCORN (GNN Popcorn -- Fun Stuff!)
* From : Cool Banana, 613:881/0 (10 Aug 94 16:58)
* To   : ALL
* Subj : Baseball
=============================================================================

         (AP) WASHINGTON, D.C. -- The Department of Health and Human
 Services secretary Donna Shalala, in concert with Surgeon General
 Jocelyn Elders, released the results of a year-long study which
 concludes that repeated blows to the head with a baseball bat will
 cause  brain damage.  "We've suspected this for a long time," Ms.
 Elders said, "but wanted to wait until our research was completed
 before we went public." Ms. Elders also announced that Attorney General
 Janet Reno would personally steer an investigation into nationally
 known baseball bat manufacturer Louisville Slugger. "Evidence suggests
 that the Louisville Slugger Corp. knew for quite some time about the
 danger of their product, but continued to market it.  We need to band
 together as a people concerned with the welfare of our children, and
 either ban or regulate these instruments of destruction." Fresh on the
 heels of this new study, Hillary Clinton lobbied for a %200 tax on
 baseball bats to help finance health care reform. "It's clear that
 injuries received from baseball bats create an undue strain on health
 care availability, and something should be done." Bill Clinton,
 supporting the First Lady from aside the podium, was asked how his
 administration would deal with the problem of renegade baseball bat
 owners.  "I'm not out to take away the right of law abiding citizens to
 own baseball bats," the President said, "but clearly there is no
 sporting use for the 'assault bats' that we've been seeing on the
 streets lately.  These lethal killers must be outlawed."  Experts
 predict that five day waiting periods and background checks will be in
 place shortly.  White House aids had no explanation for the strange
 inflamation on the President's forehead that, when examined more
 closely, turned out to be a reverse imprint of the Louisville Slugger
 logo.

So there you go.

Cool Banana 8*)

 ■ OLX 2.1 TD ■ Little pitchers have wide ears.

-+- EzyQwk V1.10g004fa0013
 + Origin: death... by chocolate - Home of GNNet! (613:881/0)
=============================================================================

Am I forgiven for yakking about sysopy things now?  :)

-- Gregh

--- GoldED 2.41+
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #293 [700]                          Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  15 Aug 94  13:59:20
 To   : All
 Subj : Story You might like
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
=============================================================================
* Forwarded by Gregh (143:10613/1429)
* Area : STTNG (Fido ST:TNG)
* From : Lisa Ramaglia, 8:7401/424 (09 Aug 94 23:35)
* To   : All
* Subj : Story You might like  (1)
=============================================================================
This story was a message from Justin Masters to Gregory Prince
recieved on another net.......

Subject: The Lost Episodes

(BTW, sorry if this has already been posted...)

"Star Trek Lost Episodes" transcript.
Picard: "Mr. LaForge, have you had any success with your attempts at
 finding a weakness in the Borg? And Mr. Data, have you been
 able to access their command pathways?"
Geordi: "Yes, Captain. In fact, we found the answer by searching
 through our archives on late Twentieth-century computing
 technology.
Geordi presses a key, and a logo appears on the computer screen...
Riker looks puzzled:
 "What the hell is a 'Microsoft'?"
Data turns to answer:
 "Allow me to explain. We will send this program, for some reason
 called 'Windows', through the Borg command pathways. Once inside
 their root command unit, it will begin consuming system resources
 at an unstoppable rate."
Picard: "But the Borg have the ability to adapt. Won't they alter their
 processing systems to increase their storage capacity?"
Data: "Yes, Captain. But, when 'Windows' detects this, it creates a
 new version of itself known as an 'upgrade'. The use of resources
 increases expotentially wit each iteration. The Borg will not
 be able to adapt quickly enough. Eventually all of their processing
 ability will be taken over and none wile be available for their
 normal operational functions."
Picard: "Excellent work. This is even better than that 'unsolvable
 geometric shape' idea."
.....15 minutes later......
Data: "Captain, we have sucessfully installed the 'Windows' in the
 command unit and as expected it immediately consumed 85% of all
 resources. We however have not received any confirmation of the
 expected 'upgrade'."
Geordi: "Our scanners have picked up an increase in Borg storage and
 CPU capacity to compensate, but we still have no indication of
 an 'upgrade' to compensate for their increase."
Picard:"Data, scan the history banks again and determine if there is
 something we missed."
Data: "Sir, I believe ther is a reason for the failure in the 'upgrade'.
 Appearently the Borg have circumvented that part of the plan
 by not sending in their registration cards.
Riker:  "Captain, we have no choice. Requesting permission to begin
 emerge escape sequence 3F....."
Geordi, excited:
 "Wait, Captain I just detected their CPU capacity has suddenly
 dropped to 0%!"
Picard: "Data, what do your scanners show?"
Data: "Appearently the Borg have found the internal 'Windows' module
 named 'Solitare' and it has used up all the CPU capacity."
Picard: "Let's wait and see how long this 'Solitare' can reduce their
 fuctionality."
....Two Hours Pass.....
Riker: "Geordi, what's the status on the Borg?"
Geordi: "As expected, the Borg are attempting to re-engineer to
 compinsate for increased CPU and storage demands, but each time
 they successfully increase resources, I have setup our closest
 deep space monitor beacon to transmit more 'Windows' modules
 from something called the 'Microsoft Fun-Pack'."
Picard: "How much time will that buy us?"
Data: "Current Borg solution rates allow me to predicate and interest
 time span of 6 more hours."
Geordi:"Captain, another vessel has entered our sector."
Picard: "Identify."
Data: "It appears to have markings very similar to the 'Microsoft'
 logo!"
Over the speakers:
 "THIS IS ADMIRAL BILL GATES OF THE MICROSOFT FLAGSHIP MONOPOLY.
 WE HAVE POSITIVE CONFIRMATION OF UNREGISTERED SOFTWARE IN THIS
 SECTOR. SURRENDER ALL ASSETS AND WE CAN AVOID ANY TROUBLE. YOU
 HAVE 10 SECONDS TO COMPLY."
Data: "The alien ship has just opened its forward hatches and released
 thousands of humanoid shaped objects."
Picard: "Magnify forward viewer on the alien craft."
Riker: "Good God Captain! Those are humans floating straight toward
 the Borg ship with no life support suits! How can they survive
 deep space?!"
Data: "I don't believe that those are humans sir, if you will look
 closer, I believe you will see that they are carrying something
 recognized by twenty-first century man as doe skin leather
 briefcases, and wearing Armani suits!"
Riker and Picard together horrified:
 "Lawyers!!"
Geordi: "It can't be. All the Lawyers were rounded up and sent hurtling
 into the sun in 2017 during the Great Awakening."
Data: "True, but apparently some must have survived."
Riker: "They have surrounded the Borg ship and are covering it with
 pieces of paper."
     --==<<< Continued next message >>>==--

-+- MsgToss 2.0c
 # Origin: Electric Estates - Romeoville,IL - 1-815-886-0109 (8:7401/424)
 + Origin: FamilyNet Intl. Echogate [708] 230-9068 (1:115/887)
=============================================================================

Alas, 'twas not continued ... at least not there.  Sigh.

-- Gregh

--- GoldED 2.41+
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #301 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.915 Aug 94  13:33:08
 To   : shawnodesee                                         15 Aug 94  23:50:14
 Subj : Grass (1 of 3)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

thought you might like this, ammy:


From: [e-mail] (Andrew Solberg)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Date: 9 Aug 1994 23:34:56 -0500


October 11, 72 NR
TRANSCRIPT: Testimony of Peter Red Elk Before the
            Council of Chieftains; Roosevelt Lodge

Na Ya Ho, Great Chieftains.

No point in beating around the bush, I guess.  I suppose you want to
know what witchcraft those Mormons are up to this time.  Well, you don't
have much to worry about.  That little errand I was on was pretty harmless,
I'd say.  Weird, but harmless.

And maybe, just maybe, they're actually doing something smart for once.

                                  - * -

I'll be the first to admit I was pretty damned suspicious, first I heard
what you wanted me to do.  No Uinta has any cause to trust the Brighamites,
and certainly not me.  After Manitou called up the Death from the seas and
the shit hit the fan, and when the world kind of fell to pieces -- well,
I lost my grandpappy to the Salt Lake Gangs a couple years into the New
Reckoning.  I remember hearing tell that when the Mormons first came to
Utah they killed themselves a whole bunch of Uinta.  Funny how the old
patterns are reborn as the spirits move in their cycles.....

So anyway, I didn't want anything to do with Mormon folks, even those kooks
in the Brigham collective.  I know, I know; they're just a bunch of crazy
University holdovers who squat behind their walls with their noses in books,
and they don't hurt nobody.  I guess without them we'd be S.O.L.; I got my
TB scar to prove it.  And I guess they need us too, especially in the winter
when the food's scarce.  Still, I don't like white folks.  They smell kind
of funny.

"Just drive the truck, Peter," you said.  Okay, I drove the truck.  You
didn't tell me I was going to be ferrying a white woman around.  Especially
not a pregnant white Brighamite, and a crazy one at that.

And you sure didn't tell me I was going to be crossing the Rockies with
winter not even over.

                                 - * -

I guess you know I got the best truck that's still running.  My great-
grandpappy owned her: she was red back before the seas sent death up through
the lower, warmer lands; a good little Bronco with a roll bar and dazzle
lights.  My family's taken care of Cloud Dancer for about eighty years now,
and she still purrs like a cat and roars like a mountain lion.  She's a great
truck.

I also guess you picked me for the job because of that truck, and also because
I know the mountains pretty well.  I'm pretty good at bagging bighorn, and
I've been up and down the roads in Colorado.  I know my stuff up those parts.

I pulled up outside Brigham.  Dr. Courson was waiting outside the pallisade.
I saw her standing there, half-freezing in the cold even with her fur jacket,
her stomach out to here, and I just about turned around and came back.  I
don't babysit white people, and I sure don't haul around women who're gonna
drop at any minute.  She had this crazy look in her eyes, though.  I've seen
that look in my brother's eyes when he came back from his spirit walk and
became a medicine man.  It was the look of somebody who's in the company of
Manitou, Great Spirit, and it's not a good idea to fuck with such people.

She had a high pile of stuff sitting in the snow next to her.  I loaded it
into the truck.  Not much of it was personal gear; the bulk of her cargo
was these flat wooden boxes, heavy as hell, with straw sticking out the
edges.  I didn't ask her about them, even though I wanted to.  Truth of the
matter is, I didn't say much of anything to her the whole time.  Like I
said, I don't like Mormons.

                               - * -

We hit the road in early March.  Things were pretty smooth as far as Price,
since the Brighamites have gotten the roads patched up aways south of here.
Their agricultural laboratory down there is doing pretty good, I think; I
saw a lot of plowed fields and folks working in them.  Early planting, the
Doctor said.  She said a lot.  I just kind of listened.

I got a cousin who's got a freehold in Elgin.  He put us up for a spell,
to let some of the snows on I-70 melt off, and gave me some shot and gas.
Ed (that's my cousin) told me he'd heard a rumor from a trapper that the
Eisenhower had collapsed.  That was pretty bad news.  There's a bypass
around it, but Loveland Pass at that time of year was goddamn pure suicide.


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #302 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.915 Aug 94  13:33:34
 To   : shawnodesse
 Subj : grass (2 of 3)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

I was for waiting two or three weeks until some of the roads cleared, but
Dr. Courson insisted we had to move on.  She had a deadline of mid-April,
she said, and gave me a bunch of hoohaw about cotyledons and shallow root
bases and I don't know what other crap.  I caved in and agreed to take
her through the Black Canyon, which shows that white folks are dumb, and
it's catching.

                                - * -

The roads got ugly as soon as we crossed into Colorado.  There's only so
much a truck blade can do, even with monster tires like Cloud Dancer has.
I had to stop and clear some stretches by hand every twenty miles or so.
It was slow going, and we had to camp in some exposed country a fair bit.

There's loonies in Grand Junction.  If we were going I-70 we could have
skipped them entirely, but we had to cut through town to get over to 50.
First warning I had was when half a cinderblock bounced off Cloud Dancer's
hood.  Next thing I knew, we were in a hail of thrown bottles, sticks, rocks,
and all kinds of crap.  Good thing loonies are too dumb to use guns.  Another
good thing: the Doctor turned out to be okay with my Remington; she put down
two of 'em before the others broke.  She covered me while I cleared their
ramshackle roadblock.  The rest of the way through town I drove like a mouse
in an open field, and the Doc hunkered down behind the dash like she was
hiding from the sky.  We didn't get any sleep that night, just so we could
get a little distance between us and those zombies.

A week later we were in Olathe, and we ran into a friendly hunting party.
They took us as far as Montrose before turning south.  It was April 1, and
Dr. Courson was getting desperate.

                                 - * -

The Black Canyon was every bit as nasty as I thought it would be.  We hit
ice a number of times, and once a little juniper tree was all that kept
our sorry asses from falling 2,000 feet.  It was beautiful country, I must
admit, but I wish I hadn't been on duty at the time.

If that wasn't bad enough, Dr. Courson decided to drop her baby right out
there in the open.  It was a pretty easy delivery, which was good because
I'm sure as hell no midwife.  The Doc knew what she was doing, though, and
she didn't have to cut anything.  She was crazy enough to do it to herself,
if she had to.  One crazy broad, that lady.

Gunnison was a ghost town; cold as I've ever felt, but not much snow at all.
We holed up in the house that used to belong to the President of the
University to let the Doc recover.  I found a big buck wandering up Main
street, and we ate pretty well for the next few weeks.  I was starting to
enjoy this trip a teensy bit, I guess.  Didn't hurt that the kid was pretty
cute.  She named him 'Holden'.  I voted for 'White River', since the
Gunnison was pretty well frozen and all, but I don't think she wanted a
Uinta name.

We crossed Monarch with almost no trouble at all.  At the top of the pass,
though, Dr. Coulson just about clawed my arm off.  "What on earth is that?!"
she screamed at me, pointing to the east.  Huh.

I guess she hadn't heard about the skies east of the Rockies being gray
and all.

                                - * -

At the end of April we were in Pueblo.  The windstorms were constant and
rocked the truck pretty badly.  Worse, the sand and grit in the air made
visibility very poor, so it was hard to watch for loonies or raiders.  The
Doc made things worse by wanting to stop every few miles and take soil
samples.  "I had no idea how bad it had gotten," she must have told me about
a million times.

We drove through seas of dust.  The road bed, the only piece of the land to
resist the winds, rode high on the land like a dam over a lake.  There was
nothing but death as far as the eye could see.

She told me what the problem was.  A long, long time ago, before any white
people came to America, everything east of the Rockies was a lot of grassland.
The soil was pretty rich, and the grass put back as much as it took out of
the land, so the land was good.  Then white farmers came along.  They tore
up all the grassland and put crops in the soil.  The crops used what was in
the soil and didn't put anything back.  The soil was good, so the land was
rich for a long time, but soon lots of fertilizer had to be added to keep
the crops green.

Even worse, the crops needed a lot more water than the grass did.  People had
to dig deep wells and pump a lot of water up to meet the demand.  The land
sank a good long ways from all the water that got pumped up and didn't get
replaced.  This was okay while there were armies of farmers there to pour
money and labor into keeping their farms artificially green and healthy.


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #303 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.915 Aug 94  13:33:56
 To   : shawnodessee
 Subj : grass (3 of 3)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Then the Death came: invisible, riding the winds and waterways, attacking
from all sides and without warning, bringing rapid destruction to humans and
a few other animals, but sparing the lands that were too high and too cold.
The farmers stopped farming their fields.  Without them, the land could not
sustain the hungry crops.  The plants all died and withered away.

Now nothing was holding the soil down.  All of the plains had been trans-
formed into a great garden, but the garden was neither green nor watered.
The land, once rich in buffalo and deer and flowers, turned to dust.  And
when the strong winds of the plains came, as they always have, the land
began to blow away.

Dr. Coulson said things like 'dustbowl' a lot.  I could understand that:
the land had turned into a pot of dust, sure enough, and I didn't see what
there was to do about it.

We off-roaded a bit in Crowley county before we found a place she liked;
it was close to a small and muddy stream, and there were a few sages still
clumping there by the water.  How they got any light in that land of eternal
twilight is beyond me, but they survived pretty well.  Dr. Coulson had me
unload the truck.  I pulled out the flat boxes we had been trucking halfway
across Creation, and she popped one of them open.

Damn if it wasn't a strip of sod!  About three feet by 18 inches and three
inches thick, suspended in a soup of smelly chemicals.  I gaped as the Doc
lovingly took it out of the box and tamped it down near the mud.

I quote myself: "Holy Shit, you crazy lady!  You just made me hump my ass
through snow and loonies and who knows what else to haul *grass*?!  You are
absolutely NUTS!"  She didn't seem to think so, though, and frowned at me
as I had woken the baby up.  "Mutant strain; high repro vector" she answered,
talking nonsense as always, and there isn't much to say to that.

I guess I sulked the next few days while we drove around eastern Colorado
planting strips of grass.  When we had used up all the sod strips we had,
it was time to go home.  Dr. Coulson told me to make one more stop, though.
On the way back to Pueblo we stopped at the Comanche National Grassland.

It was like an oasis.  The skies were almost clear over that place.  I
started in surprise as we approached: I had heard *birdsong* for the first
time in weeks.  We stopped on a low rise and took a look.  It was breath-
taking, I must admit.

I could see a little colony of prairie dogs.  Here and there were birds,
nesting in the tall grass, staying with their young only long enough to
feed them so that they would not draw predators.  There were some deer,
and even a hawk that I saw a long way away.  Everywhere were good wildflowers,
and mosses, and grass, grass, GRASS -- as far as the eye could see.

After that, I wasn't so sure that Dr. Coulson was so crazy after all.

                               - * -

Well, to make a long story short, we had some trouble getting back home.
Some bike gangs had moved north with the warmer weather, and we had to
play cat-and-mouse all the way home.  We ducked down to Taos to skirt
the worst of them, and then we hit some floods from the Spring thaw, and
then we had to hole up while Holden suffered from the measles......we
didn't get back until just now.

Next year the Doc wants to go back to check on the grass she planted, and
maybe try a few new strains.  I told her I was game to help her out again.
She's still white and crazy, but I think I see what she's doing.

And I've been thinking.  I'm thinking that I would like to live someplace
where the grass stands tall, and coyotes yip at night; the deer are plentiful,
the air is clean, and the ground is good.  I'd like to stand in a waving sea
of green, and look as far as my eye can see, and know that the green came
from *me*, spreading out from me like a ripple in a pond, bringing life
where there once was none.  That would be a very good thing.

I can think of none better.



--
HWRNMNBSOL is:     * I will not lie to Usenet.  I will not lie to Usenet.
Andrew J. Solberg  * I will not lie to Usenet.  I will not lie to Usenet.
Chief Apologist:   * I will not lie to Usenet.  I will not lie to Usenet.
Rice U. Math Dept. * I will not lie to Usenet.  I will not lie to Usenet.

---
 * Origin: USENET:UTexas Mail-to-News Gateway (3:50/40)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #305 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.915 Aug 94  13:38:52
 To   : juliet                                              16 Aug 94  00:12:58
 Subj : fun!
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


From: [e-mail] (jeff vogel)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Date: 9 Aug 1994 21:11:38 -0400
Subj: Short family story.


The wisest thing my uncle ever said to me was:
        "Kid, in this world, you have to make your own fun."

Of course, the next day, he went on a four state killing spree, but
I've tried to take what wisdom I could from it anyway.

                                        - Jeff Vogel
                                        Rutgers math



---
 * Origin: USENET:Rutgers University LCSR (3:50/40)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #306 [700] + 315
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.915 Aug 94  13:40:10
 To   : ace lightning
 Subj : why i read talk.bizarre
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: [e-mail] (Madame Dragonfly)
Date: Wed, 3 Aug 1994 14:10:48 GMT
Subj: Penalty Box: Hycinthia



Hycinthia

In his letter, the words were blurred
As if seen through the curve of a water-glass.
I could barely make out the script:
Best wishes for a speedy recovery.
I was hit by lightning, the doctors told me.
His scent was still on the paper, it smelled
Of ozone, crackling blue bolts, of gods.

I was sitting under the oak with him
Under a clear sky, reaching out to touch
His hand; then a kiss, then I know no more.
I was found alone in scorched earth.
I barely recall that kiss; they asked me
"Do you remember the circumstances?"

I told them I had kissed a god.
Their heads shook like the branches
Of a wind-tossed tree. Hah, I wasn't addled.
Look, that was his letter in my hand.
When they let me go home, I sat here outside
Waiting for him to re-appear
Over there; I can see that scorched earth.
Too dangerous to tread on, say I.

While I was sitting here near the porch,
I felt the great pain start to change me;
Penalty for kissing a god.
Once where my feet stood,
The roots dig into the ground.
Oh, my legs are long gone;
I sacrificed them for one of his kisses.
Yellow flowers drip from my fingers
Where once his letter dropped from my hand.


--
Big Strong Girl -- Amazon Extraordinaire -- Physics Chick -- Babe in Big Boots
       "Your name is being called by sacred things that are not addressed
        nor listened to. Sometimes they blow trumpets."  -- Kate Bush
                        Be not ravished by mediocrity.
--

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #310 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.916 Aug 94  01:22:32
 To   : Gregh                                               17 Aug 94  08:39:22
 Subj : shaggy borg stories
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

 G> Geordi: "It can't be. All the Lawyers were rounded up and sent hurtling
 G>  into the sun in 2017 during the Great Awakening." Data: "True, but
 G> apparently some must have survived." Riker: "They have surrounded the
 G> Borg ship and are covering it with
 G>  pieces of paper."
 G>      --==<<< Continued next message >>>==--


 G> Alas, 'twas not continued ... at least not there.  Sigh.


seen this.  there wasn't much else:



<Data>  "I believe that is known in ancient venacular as 'red
tape' it often proves fatal."

<Riker>  "They're tearing the Borg to pieces !"

<Picard>  "Turn off the monitors.  I can't stand to watch, not
even the Borg deserve that."



---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #313 [700] - 299 + 322              Rcv
 From : Ace Lightning                       143:143/1       15 Aug 94  23:32:10
 To   : Arifel                                              25 Sep 94  14:41:34
 Subj : Re: aye, HERE'S the rub!
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
AR> AL> ('although she should lose that stupid schoolgirl drag', thought Ace).
AR>    (goes to notebook, leafs through to Barbie Suggestions page,
  >     considers crossing off `Schoolgirl barbie', but decides to leave
  >     it, sitting between Klingon barbie and Waffen-SS barbie.)

Well, you've already done Cenobite Barbie... how about?

Romulan Barbie
Transvestite Ken Barbie
Waif-Look/Anorexic Barbie (oh, sorry, Mattell *makes* them that way...)
Biker Bitch Barbie
Tattooed Barbie (have fun with fine-point markers...)
Rubber Fetish Barbie
Water Sports Barbie
Borg Barbie (heh)
Bulldyke Barbie
(I dare you) Overweight New Jersey Housewife Barbie...
---
 ■ SLMR 2.0 ■ The Gods made New Jersey to store traffic jams in...
--- Renegade v5-31 Exp
 * Origin: Phoenix Modernz Systems (143:143/1)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #317 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.917 Aug 94  21:38:50
 To   : amethyst
 Subj : testing your new pseudo.  carry on.
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
testing!


From: [e-mail] (Johnathan Vail)
Date: Mon, 8 Aug 1994 03:37:25 GMT
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre



STARFUCKING

You know how it is.  You spend your whole life looking up at the sky
and marveling at the stars.  You wonder sometimes what it's like but
it's not worth losing sleep over the fact that you will probably
never be up there in it.  You are still content with your feet on the
earth.

Then one day you find yourself in the heavens, right there with the
stars as if your were a God or Goddess.  And what's more, the orbit
of one of them intersects right where you are.  Without even trying
you are captured by the attraction of a star.

The giddy pull of gravitational acceleration on your body is exciting
and consuming.  You just lie back with your eyes closed and your cock
stiff.  Inside the blazing sun you realize that it's not really any
better than what you've had before.  And entering the corona is
difficult.  But it's damn good and hey, you're fucking a star!

You knew when it had to end.  It was a wonderful experience to be up
in the heavens if for only a short time.  You can look back and feel
pride when you say to yourself: "I fucked a star!"  Until a week
later radiation poisoning suddenly makes your cock turn blue and fall
off.



---
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #327 [700] + 331
 From : dava                                143:10613/1429.921 Aug 94  23:14:42
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : ein stuhl in der hoelle
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

 AL>   > * Origin: ich wuensch ihm einen stuhl im himmel
 AL> (143:10613/1429.93)

 AL> "I wish" <something> "a" <something> "in heaven" ? ---


yet another Einstuerzende Neubauten song.



Where is it that you have been
                                            Oh Tell me
i've been to my mother's sister's house
                                            Woe is me
what is it that you did there?
                                            Oh Tell me
i ate and drank there too
                                            Woe is me
what was it that you ate there?
                                            Oh Tell me
they served up a broth with pepper there
                                            Woe is me
what was it that you did drink?
                                            Oh Tell me
a glass filled with wine so red
                                            Woe is me
what were the dogs and cats fed there?
                                            Oh Tell me
they were fed the broth with pepper
                                            Woe is me
what is it that happened next?
                                            Oh Tell me
within the hour they dropped dead
                                            Woe is me
what do you wish for your father dear?
                                            Oh Tell me
i wish him a chair in heaven
                                            Woe is me
what do you wish for your mother dear?
                                            Oh Tell me
i wish her a chair in hell
                                            Woe is me





d


---
 * Origin: sing `ho' for the open highway! (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #330 [700]                          Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  23 Aug 94  01:56:16
 To   : All
 Subj : You have exceeded your download count.
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
=============================================================================
* Forwarded by Gregh (143:10613/1429)
* Area : ZONE_180_SYSOP (Lit Sysop)
* From : Gerry Von Kalm, 180:1802/105 (20 Aug 94 12:43)
* To   : All
* Subj : You have exceeded your download count.
=============================================================================

                         _                         _
                        |_|                       |_|
                        | |         /^^^\         | |
                       _| |_      (| "o" |)      _| |_
                     _| | | | _    (_---_)    _ | | | |_
                    | | | | |' |    _| |_    | `| | | | |
                    |          |   /     \   |          |
                     \        /  / /(. .)\ \  \        /
                       \    /  / /  | . |  \ \  \    /
                         \  \/ /    ||Y||    \ \/  /
                          \__/      || ||      \__/
                                    () ()
                                    || ||
                                   ooO Ooo

-+- GEcho/386 1.02+
 + Origin: AngBand BBS [phone] (180:1802/105)
=============================================================================

<GRIN>

Just a little something I found in the Litnet sysop echo after receiving my
first Litnet packet ... and knowing how Arifel likes acsii ...

-- Gregh

--- GoldED 2.41+
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #334 [700] - 55 + 356               Rcv
 From : All                                 143:10613/1882  24 Aug 94  00:18:00
 To   : Arifel                                              25 Sep 94  14:41:34
 Subj : Moderator's Guidelines, June 1994
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
.TID: IMAIL 1.50 (Expired)
* Quoting Arifel to All *

AA> Moderator's Guidelines, 29th June 1994
AA> --------------------------------------

Great, jolly good. But why post it to ME?

... "Nobody's going to wash up MY mucus!" - Amethyst Yellowhorse

--- SuperBBS 1.17-3 (Eval)
 * Origin: Occasional Fish. (143:10613/1882)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #336 [700] + 360
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:12:18
 To   : all
 Subj : names for cats
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Aaron V. Humphrey)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Organization: The Anna Amabiaca Fan Club
Subj: NAME MY CAT


Ypsilanti.
Braintree.
Fauteuil.       (French for "armchair", pronounced approximately 'fo-toi')
Atwar.
Strychnine.
Azpiazu.
Nysinra.
Macska.         (Hungarian for "cat", pronounced "mach-ka")
Odoroku.        (Japanese for "surprise")
Kashtin.        ("Tornado" in northern Quebec Indian language; also the
                name of a strangely successful band who sings in that
                language)
Ha'DIbaH qab.   (Klingon for "Bad animal")
Markian.
Vanilla Ice.
Esmeralda.      (Spanish for "emerald"; also name of cat my family owned
                when I was growing up, which was a year older than I but
                is now dead)

Misc.Test.Moderated.
Abigail.
Abimbola.
If-Christ-Had-Not-Died-For-Thy-Sins-Thou-Wouldst-Be-Damned
Thomas Covenant.
NOP.
Scorefile.
Suomalainen.

rot13 of any of these.

--
--Alfvaen(Editor of Communique)
Current Album--John Hiatt:Stolen Moments
Current Read--Heather Spears:The Children of Atwar
"pretend the needle thickens."  --lstewart
---
 * Origin: FidoNet/USENET Gateway [csource.oz.au] (3:632/400.0)

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #338 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:14:44
 To   : all
 Subj : a message from the LTUAE sensitive-person
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


I'm not like you.
The way I touch
The light I see
Is distinct
Un-like yours
Though created alike in flame

My tears are mine
Their salt seperate
Tracing tracks
In a soulful sewer
Through my subterranean mind

I fly on wings
In a different sky
Where clouds
Find transient transparent form
From my design

You seek to reassert
Your identity
To see the self mirrored
By me and others
Like while not like me

It drives me away.
I want
But I flee
While in my heart I fear
What drives me away
Is me



  - juliet lautenbach (ltuae)


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #339 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:15:08
 To   : all
 Subj : looking for that perfect gift idea?
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


NINE-AND-A-HALF-INCH GLOW-IN-THE-DARK SQUID

($4.25; Archie McPhee, Box 30852, Seattle, Wash., 98103;
Phone: [phone])

  More times than we can count we have found ourselves groping around
in the dark, unable to locate our squid. But now, thanks to Modern
Science, we have exactly the squid we need, one that is not only
visible in total darkness, but also feels like a giant gob of mucus.
The lucky person you give this to is bound to have a reaction.



---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #341 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:17:32
 To   : all
 Subj : This Is Serious Mum
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Date: 08-08-92 (00:03)  Number: 4793
To  : ALL                         Refer#: 0
From: FRANK GATTINGER
Subj: This is serious Mum
Conf: LTUAE

Mum's Tennis Friends got the TISM Perth tour support gigs (two).  Now
Larry has been at me for ages to listen to this amazing band, This Is
Serious Mum, and I never had.  I knew he'd kick my arse for ages if
TISM had come to town and I hadn't bothered.  So along I go to one of
our nightclubs, Berlin, and catch the last two songs of Larry's band
while we wait for the Infamous TISM.

It's midnight and I'm having a chat with Anne under a stage curtain
when Larry bursts in.  He can't believe it.  He's been backstage
talking to TISM and guess who's in the band ?!!  Well, no names but I
used to play soccer with him and his brothers.  Larry, he and I all
grew up at the same Catholic College in Melbourne.  I race backstage
with Larry's pass and jump under a roller door to find myself in a
tiny change room full of very strange looking men wearing black
balaclavas pulled over their faces with white edged holes for eyes
and mouth.  They looked like mutants.

"Eugine !"  I call out.

7 startled mutants all turn and stare at me.

<nervous pause>

I played soccer with you in '75 !

"Frank!" says one of the mutants.

<FX sigh of relief.  I'm still alive>

Some quick cuddly male bonding and I'm back outside right near the
stage looking forward to TISM's stage entry.

I hadn't realised they were theatrical.
 :-)

Those of you who understand will understand the smiley.

Out they come in strange silent stances.  Almost Split Enzy. Suddenly
I am aware of hiss from the wall of speakers to my right. The amps
have come on. The stage manager makes one of those little 'pop'
sounds on a microphone. About 500 of us are deafened in the right ear
and my chest feels concussed. Gawd strewth!  This is gonna be fuckin
LOUD.  Berlin is not one of those shabby night clubs with sticky
uneven carpet hiding beer soaked and termite damaged floor boards.
It is huge and very solid.  Yet the whole place trembled with the
next mic 'pop'.  The crowd was going mad with anticipation.

Carried by the frantic surge, I found myself right at the stage
looking up at these silent statues, dressed like viking catholic
priests - all in masks, and wondering what would happen next.

The show was nothing short of the most explosive, wild, dangerous and
amazing performance I have ever seen.  When Larry described these
guys as Midnight Oil meets Godley & Creme, he understated the truth.
15 seconds into the show and I feel like Bart Simpson, staring up in
wonder and awe with all my hair blown off.  Remember Daffy Duck with
his beak hanging off after the bomb explodes?  TISM blew my mind!

They are absolutely wonderful.

After the show Eugine and I walk into Perth to The Firm (sticky
carpets in a dark multi-storey condemed wooden building with 1000's
of crazed young hippy kids so pissed nobody gives a fuck about
anything).  The Firm is where you go when all the nightclubs close
:-) There we join the rest of TISM and the Doug Anthony All Stars for
more beer.  DAAS are pissed, quiet and un-controversial.  The other
TISM guys look almost human without their masks and Eugine and I
continue an excited talk.  I tell him about marriage, children,
superdet and he tells me that he looked up to Larry and I as rebels
when he was young.  We talk a lot about life, the universe and
everything.

TISM are still rebels. Three of them came from my school.  They make
me proud.  Now they are professionals.  Eugine is a lawer, two others
have honours in English and I'm told the others have equally unlikely
professions ...  Once every 6 months they abandon their straight
lives and tour the country with their msg of rebellion against the
shocking state of affairs in our suburban culture where Channel 10
news and Bert Newton offer enthusiastic apathy as relief from the
death and destruction of our minds and souls.

The performance is wild, animalistic and full of comedy and parody.
As a backdrop to the deadly serious message, a surreal combination of
manic dance and tragic humour turns a rock and roll gig into one of
the most memorable and  profound experiences I have ever encountered.

If you're weak of heart, never go to a TISM gig.  It will kill you.

If you enjoy suburban life, the TV and the footy, feel secure in your
religion and don't know what all the fuss is about, don't go.  You're
already dead.

Encore !!!!

Remember, If your Ugly, FORGET IT !

Cheers
Frank


--- msged 2.06
 * Origin: Gattinger's Point (3:690/333.2)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #342 [700] + 359
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:18:12
 To   : ace lightning
 Subj : picnic
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Narciso Jaramillo)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subj: picnic
Date: 19 Apr 1994 16:07:59 GMT
Organization: Word Wranglers, a division of General Antics GmbH


Today she is all skirt, boot and hair on her way out to the park, a
basket in one hand, a pair of Solingen scissors in the other.
Sunlight and wind jostle each other, each one trying to be the first
to greet her as she steps out the door; the light wins, just barely.
She flashes teeth at the world, and the air, beside itself with
delight, runs over her pink gums and around and around her shapely
uvula.

She walks barefoot in the grass of the park, knowing that the grass
itself will push inconveniences out from her path.  Trees shade her
with an air of nonchalance, but they are just as infatuated as the
rest; they are simply too dignified to express themselves in more
obvious fashions.  Foreign bacteria dare not interfere with the normal
functioning of her body, and her very gut fauna exert themselves
strenuously in her behalf.

In a wide clearing, far from the shrieks and giggles and creaking
swings of the playground, far from the petulant bourgeois of the
tennis courts, she sets down the basket and opens it.  From it she
pulls hundreds of photographs, one after another.  She snips them
gently, but with an intensely hateful expression on her face, and
casts the shreds to the wind.  The wind obligingly carries them to the
grass, which sends snails and shrews to digest them.  The dirt absorbs
their excretions, sucking them deep underground.

Soon the basket is empty, and the bowels of the earth are filled with
a black and white sludge: her leftovers.  It's acidic stuff, to be
sure, but for her sake, the planet is willing to put up with a little
stomach trouble.  And now she can eat just fine.


...                                                 [e-mail]


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #343 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:18:36
 To   : tal meta
 Subj : Tim The Cat
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


           `Pope Simplicus (468-483) followed Leo's lead
            in advising the Emperor Zeno to remove heretical
            Bishops such as Timothy The Cat...'

                - `The Papacy: an Illustrated History
                   from St. Peter to Paul VI',
                   by Christopher Hillis



`Bishop, the Archimandrite Euchytes has been arrested and awaits your
presence in the atrium.'

`...miaouw.'

`Bishop, we need your signature on this Refutal of the Heresy of
Monophytism...'

`...miaouw.'

`Bishop, we have had word that the Barbarian Odeacer has marched on
Augustus' Palace...'

`...miaouw.'


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #344 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:20:38
 To   : amethyst
 Subj : th' adventures o' Dan'l
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
From: [e-mail] (Clyde Turpa)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre

                          Historical Kentucky

Wes Parker was having touble with his hat.  "Coonskin cap," his
teenage girlfriend corrected gently.  And the director had been after
him all morning, "Come ON, Dan'L!!  We haven't got all day, here!
Let's GO!"  Morons.

The stuffed bear came at him again.  It rode on a track, moving far
too quickly, and with too many jerks, inert and rigid.  He looked at
it with determination, then fired his musket, trying not to flinch
during the closeup.  "CUT!"  the director called, and Wes turned to
look at Buff.  She was flirting with the gaffer, and then BOOM! the
bear, which the idiot hadn't turned off, slammed into him, knocking
him down on top of his musket.  Everyone started laughing.  The bear,
mounted stiffly on its hind legs, had reached the end of the track
and was leaning forward, shuddering as the drive chain kept pushing
it forward.  The left foreleg, which had fallen off once during an
episode of Gilligan's Isle, had been reattached and it now looked as
if the bear urgently wanted to tell the class what six times six was.
The vibrations became still more severe, and the leg dropped off
again, hitting Wes in the head as he got to his knees.

Wes instinctively reached for his bowie knife, but remembered too
late that they had replaced it with a dummy handle in a sheath
because it kept falling out when he jumped off cliffs and whatnot.
He pulled at it twice with disgust.  Then he went wild.  There was no
denying the deadly weight of the polished hardwood musket, that long
iron barrel.  He grabbed it off the ground and attacked the bear,
beating its face in, smashing it repeatedly in the ribs.

The director raised his eyebrows and quietly gestured at the
cameraman to start filming again.  Meanwhile, Wes's ferocious attack
had taken on the power of vicarious stress relief, and the film crew
began to cheer him on.  He was barely aware of their raucous
approval, intent on severing the bear in half at its thickest point,
slamming the butt of the musket into it, then switching to the heavy
barrel end with sudden insight and renewed agression.  His coonskin
cap had turned all a-sideways, and the tail fueled his anger as it
flopped in his eyes--no time to stop and adjust it.  The bear's glass
eyes popped out and rolled across the floor, so Wes went back to the
head, knocking it off the body with a few vicious shots.

Finally the headless bear fell off the track and slammed into the
floor, raising a small dust cloud that mingled with the dispersing
musket smoke.  Wes leaped on top of it and began jamming the barrel
end of the musket into its spine, reaching into his buckskin jacket
with one hand, frantically looking for matches.  The cherokees had
just arrived from makeup, and wondered what the hell was going on.

"He's killing a bear," Buffy told the chief, who was completely bald,
with a brightly beaded breastplate and three red feathers attached to
the back of his neck.  "Say, you're cute!"  The chief shook his head
and stalked off beneath the dappled shade of the plastic elm tree for
a quick smoke.  "Let me know when we're ready, willya?"

Unexpectedly, the power went off.  A collective moan rose from the
film crew, which had already been there two hours past schedule.  But
Wes already had a good size fire going, and the fuzzy blue flames
cast just enough light to see the expression on his face as he sat
there gouging the bear with the heels of his rawhide shoes.  The
thick, acrid smoke of the bear-hair fire overcame him, and he slumped
back, waving his arms feebly, then fell over on the floor.

"OK, everybody, I think we're going to stop for today," the director
called out, "The emergency power should be on in a minute; just shut
your equipment down and go home."  He turned to the cameraman.  "Did
you get all that?"  The man nodded and patted the sleek camera's
round compartment.  "Good....Hey! Somebody see if Dan'l's OK!"

The chief's eyes glowed beneath the plastic elm as he finished his
cigarette.  He was amused and elated.  He threw the cigarette down
and stepped on it, feeling it give beneath the sole of his moccasin.
He walked over and stood above Dan'l, nudging him with his toes.
"Wake up, Wes," he said.  "I think it's time to leave."  He had no
way of knowing that the series had been cancelled, and he would never
become the new Dan'l whut seemed so necessary at that moment.
_______________________________________________________________________


(c) 1994 Little DANCING Heart.  May be spellchecked and returned to
itself unmodified, or dropped in pamphlet form over troubled areas of
the former Kentucky.

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #345 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:21:22
 To   : juliet                                              25 Aug 94  03:06:54
 Subj : easter (stop me if you've heard this one)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (jeff vogel)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre


I want to have a child born on Easter. Then, for birthday parties, we
could buy cakes decorated with frosting drawings of Christ's head,
crowned with thorns, contorted in agony.

Then, you could put the candles at the tips of the thorns. Voila!
Therapy issues for years to come!

- Jeff Vogel
Rutgers math
---

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #346 [700] + 354                    Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:22:10
 To   : volund                                              24 Aug 94  20:34:38
 Subj : dava kingsley, pseudo sociologist
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

> can anyone tell me why it is harder for some people to make friends
> than it is for others.  i am very shy and very lonely.
>


Obscure reference answer:

`vell, ve chust don't haff ze knack.'

      - Gag Halfrunt


Helpful Actual Answer:

it depends.

we asked The Grommet's resident expert on timidity, Dava.
this is what she had to say:

  as anyone who's listened to `Animals' by Pink Floyd would
  know, humanity is divided up into Sheep and Dogs. if
  you're a sheep, then you are naturally timid, you follow
  trends, obey orders without questioning and generally do
  what you're told.

  all Sheep secretly fantasise about being a Dog.

  Dogs are extroverted, pushy and love to be the centre of
  attention.  you could be forgiven for thinking that the
  fashion industry is controlled by Dogs (it's actually
  controlled by slugs, but i don't want to mix metaphors
  just yet).

  All Dogs secretly lust for the security of the Sheep. they
  sometimes wonder if they can keep on pretending to be
  cool, ground-breaking, innovative, outwardly clever. no
  Sheep EVER finds this out; if they do, they don't believe
  it.

  All Sheep and Dogs have equal amounts of creativity,
  beauty, grace, intelligence and wit.  Dogs are so insecure
  that they must continually be reminded that the other
  animals KNOW of their creativity, beauty, grace,
  intelligence, wit, etc.  Sheep are too afraid of being
  criticised to expose any of these qualities.

  it is possible for a Sheep to take on the external
  appearances of Dogs, but they rarely feel comfortable, and
  they are always aware that is only in appearance.

  Some extremly unbalanced sheep have convinced themselves
  that they are dogs (i.e. Arifel). Bulletin Boards are very
  helpful here, because the sheep can use Dog-names and
  write Dog-messages while cowering behind their Sheepness.

  Dogs are not well-served by BBSes, because the Sheep often
  out-Dog them.  When a Dog writes a bragging BBS message,
  it's second nature; when a Sheep does this, the Sheep
  ALWAYS goes over the top, but the peculiar distancing,
  isolating nature of BBSes makes it seem natural. i mean,
  here i am, pretending to be a sociologist, when i'm just
  as alone, scared and shy as you.  it's always this bad
  when you first start out.  when you have a reasonable idea
  as to who's who, you feel a bit better. really.


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #347 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:28:40
 To   : tal meta
 Subj : fun in the computer room (1 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail]
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Date: 22 Jun 94 17:09:35 EST
Subj: 50 Ways to Confuse, Worry, or Scare the Bejeezus out of People


50 WAYS TO CONFUSE, WORRY, OR JUST SCARE THE BEJEEZUS OUT OF PEOPLE
IN THE COMPUTER LAB

1.  Log on, wait a sec, then get a frightened look on your face and
    scream "Oh my God!  They've found me!" and bolt.

2.  Laugh uncontrollably for about 3 minutes & then suddenly stop and
    look suspiciously at everyone who looks at you.

3.  When your computer is turned off, complain to the monitor on duty
    that you can't get the damn thing to work.  After he/she's turned
    it on, wait 5 minutes,turn it off again, & repeat the process for
    a good half hour.

4.  Type frantically, often stopping to look at the person next to you
    evilly.

5.  Before anyone else is in the lab, connect each computer
    to different screen than the one it's set up with.

6.  Write a program that plays the "Smurfs" theme song and play it at the
    highest volume possible over & over again.

7.  Work normally for a while. Suddenly look amazingly startled by
    something on the screen and crawl underneath the desk.

8.  Ask the person next to you if they know how to tap into top-secret
    Pentagon files.

9.  Use Interactive Send to make passes at people you don't know.

10. Make a small ritual sacrifice to the computer before you turn it on.

11. Bring a chainsaw, but don't use it. If anyone asks why you have
    it, say "Just in case..." mysteriously.

12. Type on VAX for a while.  Suddenly start cursing for 3 minutes at >>
    everything bad about your life.  Then stop and continue typing.

13. Enter the lab,undress, and start staring at other people as if
    they're crazy while typing.

14. Light candles in a pentagram around your terminal before starting.

15. Ask around for a spare disk.  Offer $2.  Keep asking until someone
    agrees. Then, pull a disk out of your fly and say, "Oops, I forgot."

16. Every time you press Return and there is processing time required,
    pray "Ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease," and scream "YES!" when it
    finishes.

17. "DISK FIGHT!!!"

18. Start making out with the person at the terminal next to you (It
    helps if you know them, but this is also a great way to make new
    friends).

19. Put a straw in your mouth and put your hands in your pockets.  Type
    by hitting the keys with the straw.

20. If you're sitting in a swivel chair, spin around singing "The Lion
    Sleeps Tonight" whenever there is processing time required.

21. Draw a pictue of a woman (or man) on a piece of paper, tape it
    to your monitor.  Try to seduce it.  Act like it hates you and
    then complain loudly that women (men) are worthless.

22. Try to stick a Ninetendo cartridge into the 3 1/2 disc drive, when it
    doesn't work, get the supervisor.

23. When you are on an IBM, and when you turn it on, ask loudly where the
    smiling Apple face is when you turn on one of those.

24. Print out the complete works of Shakespeare, then when its all done
    (two days later) say that all you wanted was one line.

25. Sit and stare at the screen, biting your nails noisely.  After doing
    this for a while, spit them out at the feet of the person next to you.

26. Stare at the screen, grind your teeth, stop, look at the person
    next to you, while grinding.  Repeat procedure, making sure you
    never provoke the person enough to let them blow up, as this
    releases tension, and it is far more effective to let them
    linger.

(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #348 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:30:06
 To   : tal meta
 Subj : fun in the computer room (2 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

27. If you have long hair, take a typing break, look for split ends,
    cut them and deposit them on your neighbor's keyboard as you
    leave.

28. Put a large, gold-framed portrait of the British Royal Family on
    your desk and loudly proclaim that it inspires you.

29. Come to the lab wearing several layers of socks.  Remove shoes and
    place them of top of the monitor.  Remove socks layer by layer
    and drape them around the monitor.  Exclaim sudden haiku about
    the aesthetic beauty of cotton on plastic.

30. Take the keyboard and sit under the computer.  Type up your paper
    like this.  Then go to the lab supervisor and complain about the
    bad working conditions.

31. Laugh hysterically, shout "You will all perish in flames!!!" and
    continue working.

32. Bring some dry ice & make it look like your computer is smoking.

33. Assign a musical note to every key (ie. the Delete key is A Flat,
    the B key is F sharp, etc.).  Whenever you hit a key, hum its
    note loudly. Write an entire paper this way.

34. Attempt to eat your computer's mouse.

35. Borrow someone else's keyboard by reaching over, saying "Excuse me,
    mind if I borrow this for a sec?", unplugging the keyboard &
    taking it.

36. Bring in a bunch of magnets and have fun.

37. When doing calculations, pull out an abacus and say that sometimes
    the old ways are best.

38. Play Pong for hours on the most powerful computer in the lab.

39. Make a loud noise of hitting the same key over and over again
    until you see that your neighbor is noticing (You can hit the
    space bar so your fill isn't affected).  Then look at your
    neighbor's keyboard. Hit his/her delete key several times,
    erasing an entire word. While you do this, ask: "Does *your*
    delete key work?" Shake your head, and resume hitting the space
    bar on your keyboard.  Keep doing this until you've deleted about
    a page of your neighbor's document. Then, suddenly exclaim:
    "Well, whaddya know? I've been hitting the space bar this whole
    time.  No wonder it wasn't deleting! Ha!" Print out your document
    and leave.

40. Remove your disk from the drive and hide it.  Go to the lab
    monitor and complain that your computer ate your disk.  (For
    special effects, put some Elmer's Glue on or around the disk
    drive.  Claim that the computer is drooling.)

41. Stare at the person's next to your's screen, look really puzzled,
    burst out laughing, and say "You did that?" loudly.  Keep
    laughing, grab your stuff and leave, howling as you go.

42. Point at the screen.  Chant in a made up language while making
    elaborate hand gestures for a minute or two.  Press return or the
    mouse, then leap back and yell "COVEEEEERRRRRR!"  peek up from
    under the table, walk back to the computer and say.  "Oh, good.
    It worked this time," and calmly start to type again.

43. Keep looking at invisible bugs and trying to swat them.

44. See who's online.  Send a total stranger a talk request.  Talk to
    them like you've known them all your lives.  Hang up before they
    get a chance to figure out you're a total stranger.

45. Bring a small tape player with a tape of really absurd sound
    effects. Pretend it's the computer and look really lost.

46. Pull out a pencil.  Start writing on the screen.  Complain that
    the lead doesn't work.

47. Come into the computer lab wearing several endangered species of
    flowers in your hair.  Smile incessantly.  Type a sentence, then
    laugh happily, exclaim "You're such a marvel!!", and kiss the
    screen. Repeat this after every sentence.  As your ecstasy
    mounts, also hug the keyboard. Finally, hug your neighbor, then
    the computer assistant, and walk out.

48. Run into the computer lab, shout "Armageddon is here!!!!!", then
    calmly sit down and begin to type.

49. Quietly walk into the computer lab with a Black and Decker chainsaw,
    rev that baby up, and then walk up to the nearest person and say,
    "Give me that computer or you'll be feeding my pet crocodile for
    the next week".

50. Two words:  Tesla Coil.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This list is courtesy of my friend Ken ([e-mail]).  All hoorays or
boos should be addressed in his direction.

I am in the midst of compiling my next list, "50 MORE ways to Confuse, Worry,
etc."  Send me your favorites and I'll include them.

Yours truly,

Matt Besterman
[e-mail]


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #349 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:32:46
 To   : ffejtable?
 Subj : `chust don't mention ze Var.'
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Jason D Corley )
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subj: Little Known Facts about The War


Ruritania fielded a single unit of bicycle troops during the War.
They used a machine gun mounted between the handlebars. The
ammunition was stored in the place where modern water bottles go, on
a small aluminum rack.  The First Bicyclist Infantry Brigade was
crushed in the Hansdorf offensive.

The War produced the first known casualties of heartbreak.  Doctors
were baffled.  Normally clear-headed and thoughtful women who
understood what their husbands and lovers were fighting for, would
sigh, put their hands at their sides and die, as if they were simply
waiting for the coffin to spring up around them.  The cause of death
in these cases was always listed as "Heart Attack".  The humor is
often lost on today's youth.

One of the new weapons produced during the War was the Body Bag Gun.
It was developed in Salisbaria.  It fired a self-sealing Body Bag
that would envelop the soldier it hit, who would usually simply lie
still until buried.  This invention was heralded as a weapon which
would make warfare convenient at last. In today's world, this may
seem naieve: visions of armies facing each other armed with nothing
but Body Bag Guns to fire at one another, and shovels to dig the
graves of those who have fallen.  Nowadays we know that the
development of Coffin Guns was inevitable.

If you put all the tombstones for all the soldiers in the War atop
one another, they would reach to the moon.  There, they would wait
patiently and futilely for flowers to grow around them.

"This War," Vice-Chancellor Tinsbury of Valkenvania said, "will be a
fiction to our grandchildren.  They will be raised never having heard
of any of the strange and bizarre practices which we have come to
accept as normal.  We will have dissappeared from their world, spun
off like a tiny bubble of reality, endlessly repeating our air raids,
our quarantines, our rationing and our speeches, until finally we are
forgotten entirely, and we fade like an old photograph."



"The capacity of human beings to bore one another seems to be vastly
greater than that of any other animal." -------H.L. Mencken
Jason D. "[e-mail]" is wanted for Romanian dirt smuggling.


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #350 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:34:28
 To   : lucy
 Subj : how many fingers do you have?
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


From: [e-mail] (Zvi Gilbert)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Organization: paranormal bouquet
Subj: the finger thing


i look at people's hands and they have too many fingers. four is too
many. weird, tangled, twitching finger-flesh.

i look at cartoons and they have too few fingers. three is too few.
sparse, bulging, glowing finger-flesh.

in some perfect place people have a fractional number of fingers. an
irrational number of fingers. non-repeating towards infinity.

i tell this to my friend and she says, "just as long as you don't try
to do anything about it."


--Zvi
[e-mail]
with a finger in my pi

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #351 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:35:58
 To   : traveler
 Subj : Iran:
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


From: [e-mail] (Khomeini)
Date: Sat, 25 Jun 1994 22:09:20 UTC
Subj: Ustaz Abuya and Transvestism


Ustaz Abuya declared: "Transvestism is totally opposed by the
Prophet, the Ulema, the Sharia. It is an abomination."

On this occasion, Abuya was dressed in his usual chic long flowing
Islamic evening gown, and sported his trademark mascara and bright
red lipstick.


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #352 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.924 Aug 94  00:36:36
 To   : amethyst
 Subj : foreplay
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


From: [e-mail] (Crisper Than Thou)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre

our lady of perpetual amazement <[e-mail]> wrote:

>they wish they had an organ that was exclusively used for sex.


He adjusts the stops and looks to her over his shoulder again. Will
two feet be long enough? Four? No, he thinks. Two eight-footers and a
sixteen. Yes. No, still not long enough. If only there was a
thirty-two footer.

"Length isn't important," she says from the bed. "It's how you use it."

He picks up the second volume of Bach's _Wohltempiert Klavier_. It
makes for adequate foreplay.

        --The Elder Dan
        (organically crisper)


--
"I have accepted my... ability... to act." -- William Shatner
---

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #362 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  17:32:24
 To   : all
 Subj : Moderator's Guidelines (again)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

this week's Moderator's Guidelines:


.____
|    ~~~~----____           ''
|      ____      ~|      .``  ''.
|     ( oo )      |     (| o  O  |)
|     (____)      |      |       ;
|        \        |      |       ;
|         \  /``===---------='  /
|         /\/     |      ``----'
|       /'  \     |      ,/~~~\
|     _/     \    |      /\   /`\
|            /\   |     (  \/'   /
|           /  `  |     |\/'   /'|
|        ____----~'    (~'   /'\ |
|----~~~~              (___/'\  `\.
                         |    `\  )
                         |      `\)
                         |       |




---
 * Origin: POWDERED TOAST MA-A-A-A-A-A-AN! (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #363 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  19:45:58
 To   : all
 Subj : robots
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (mr. x)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: robots
Date: 15 Jun 88 18:50:48 GMT


the robots were after me again today.

of course they LOOK like children, but i'm on to their little secret.

when i see one of them on the street i throw them to the ground
<whump> and smash their little heads against the pavement <smak>
<smak> <smak> until <kinsch> they <krunch> break open.  i haven't
been wrong yet; robots, every one of them.

they get their orders through the television-- when it's OFF.  ever
notice how strangely "children" act when they're around a tv that's
OFF? they run around.  they get into trouble. they SPY and REPORT to
their hideous MASTERS.  turn on the tv, and the robots stop.  they
sit down quietly and stare at the flickering screen, drooling some-
times.  tv is the only protection we have.

they're after me.  i know their weakness. they grab at me with their
wet sticky hands.  they cry.  they scream.  they spit. they tell
their "parents" about me.  but i'm safe.  i've got a little tv with
me. i wave it in their faces and laugh.  and i never turn it OFF.


                mstrX

                sure i'll babysit heh

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #364 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  19:46:32
 To   : tal meta
 Subj : Juliet Lautenbach meets the Mainframe
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

_Juliet Meets the Mainframe_

me.
Is it just my hair.
He bends. He bends.
He likes long hair.

the clean smell
and silky feel.
I wonder about me.
Is it just my hair.

He bends.
He wants touch
he wants to touch
and kisses my hair

he is not focused
on me; rather,
the floor attention.
Program ends.

He wants touch
he watches
(though I don't)
and kisses my hair.

He bends.
He bends.

ABEND 0E 47 AT IEB1124$ SEGMENTATION FAULT: CORE DUMPED

0000: 33302D33 2D393320 4F6E2074 68652066
0010: 6C6F6F72 20617420 68697320 66656574
0020: 2074656C 65766973 696F6E20 6F6E2E20
0030: 20486520 77617463 68657320 2874686F
0040: 75670000 490A646F 60000429 20616E64
0050: 20700000 79732077 60000820 6D792068
0060: 61690000 6C696674 60000720 616E6420
0070: 74776973 74696E67 2069742E 20204120
0080: 67656E74 6C652063 61726573 732C0A61
0090: 20636172 60000573 7320746F 75636820
00A0: 2D206865 20000320 6E6F7420 666F6375
00B0: 73656420 6000006D 653B2072 61746865
00C0: 722C2074 68652074 7620686F 6C647320
00D0: 6869730A 636C6561 72206174 74656E74
00E0: 600F6E2E 20205072 6F670061 6D20656E
00F0: 60002E20 20486520 62600064 7320646F
0100: 77600000 00000000 00007365 73206D79
0110: 20680000 00000000 00000A6C 696B6573
0120: 206C6F6E 67206861 6972202D 20746865
0130: 20636C65 616E2073 6D656C6C 20616E64
0140: 2073696C 6B792066 65656C2E 20204920
0150: 776F6E64 65722061 626F7574 206D652E
0160: 0A497320 6974206A 75737420 6D792068
0170: 61697220 68652077 616E7473 20746F20
0180: 746F7563 6820616E 64206C6F 76653F0A


Andrew Clayton

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #365 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  19:47:28
 To   : all
 Subj : genocide
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: [e-mail] (strychnine)
Organization: The Holy Oscillators
Date: Tue, 28 Jun 1994 03:58:45 GMT
Subj: Genocide


``Dr. Strychnine's Advice for Boys and Girls''


Don't commit genocide boys and girls
It really isn't nice
In fact it's down right evil
And more than that, it leads to things
That really are much worse

For once you've tasted genocide,
It's easier to think
That killing sprees and slavery
Serial rape and fascist tyrrany
Are really not that bad

And after that, it's all down hill
To larceny and extortion
Blackmail, racketeering and naked thuggery
Pathological behaviors, most pernicious
Come without hesitation

From there, it's just a simple step
To the worst things of them all
Adultery and cursing and working on the sabbath
Hooky, dope and lying to Congress
Are nothing so diabolical

Yes, genocide boys and girls
Is a path to moral degeneracy
Down which you must never walk
More than just beginning of the end
It is the end unto itself


--
j h woodyatt                                    [e-mail]
                hey, there's no ``here'' here!


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #366 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  19:48:50
 To   : all
 Subj : `Clank'
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: [e-mail] (Michael Rigler)
Date: Wed, 29 Jun 94 00:58:32 GMT
Subj: Tough Interview Questions


QUESTION #17:
------------


"Clank."

You awaken in utter darkness, aware that you are sitting naked on a
cold stone floor, slumped forward, with your lower back against a
wall. You have no feeling in your arms, your legs, your hands or your
feet, and the muscles of your torso and lower jaw are shivering
weakly.

Before you can so much as gather your thoughts, you hear a faint and
strangely familiar sound:  a tiny "clank," emanating from some point
nearby and echoing off into the darkness.   A few seconds later you
hear it again, "clank," and again, the echo.  Is somebody there in
the darkness?  You squeeze shut your eyes and strain to listen: Ten
seconds pass ...twenty seconds...  Just at the limit of your hearing,
at the boundary where your senses meet your imagination, you think
you can detect a faint creaking tone as of a spring or a large piano
wire being tensed and relaxed, or perhaps even lightly plucked. For
several minutes you listen, struggling to make sense of the noises,
and to convince yourself of their non-existence, when suddenly --
"CLANG!" -- the original percussive sound returns, only this time
much louder and much more jarring than before.

In reflex you jerk back, and your abrupt motion disturbs hundreds of
tiny creatures that are arranged about your naked person (you had not
felt them before).  Helpless, you can only twitch in revulsion at
their dry chelatinous touch, and as they scuttle off you you wince to
feel the sickening withdrawl of hundreds of tiny needlelike
appendages from your flesh.  Your ears still ringing, you force
yourself to hold still and hold your breath and with your cheek
pressed against the wall you feel hundreds of clicking vibrations as
the host of unknown parasites settles down into a carpetlike mass
only few meters away, to focus -- you imagine -- its collective
predatory frustration in the direction of your exposed and paralyzed
feet.

Then, from above you and to the right, you hear a distinct "clang."

What do you do?


---
Michael    (Taken from the X-Industries Standard Application Form 3A/Q)
Rigler

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #367 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  19:51:42
 To   : all
 Subj : UFO Abductees: explained
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Dave Gross)
Subject: SNIP -- Is this group still around?

Shortly after I got out of High School without a diploma but with an
equivalency test certificate, after the second time I crossed the blue
line at Diablo Canyon nuclear power plant, but before the California
State Peace March, I was a frustrated radical.  Frustrated because I had
the purity of heart and motive, the ideological sophistication, and the
drive to fight against The Empire, but knew not how.

In other words, I was ripe for the picking.  So I fell in with a ZPG
spinoff group which called itself "Green Again" in its public dealings (a
booth downtown on Thursday nights for Farmers' Market, a column published
in the local Womens' Press, etc.) but which called itself SNIP within the
group. At the time, it didn't occur to me that SNIP might be an acronym,
but I've speculated since then (Students for a Negative Increase in
Population?).

Anyway, there were maybe ten of us in the group, and our focus was world
overpopulation.  And we weren't like the population control groups today,
who sometimes seem to have the attitude "it's okay if the ignorant little
brown people breed themselves into starvation, as long as they don't try
to come to our country which is crowded enough thank you," no, we wanted
open borders but fewer people.

And we recognized, in our radicalness, that it wasn't little brown people
breeding that we had to worry about, but expensive little pink people who
were using an inordinate amount of the world's resources. And according
to the fliers we read, each little pink larva would grow up to make more
little pink larvae in a branching tree which in a few generations was
very bushy indeed.

And we decided that since we did not have, and had no hope of having, any
sort of political influence or control, and we weren't too happy about
the government regulating reproduction anyway (most of us were young and
came from the anarchist punk rock tradition); and since the fine
population explosion propaganda that had influenced us was failing to
influence enough of the rest of the population, we'd have to perform more
radical actions.

So we loaded up on psychedelics and short-term deliriants (ether,
ketamine), and I did some research at the library, and we put our plan
into action.

A typical night would go something like this.  We'd send three people out
in a specially-rigged car (tastefully hidden interior lighting and
mirrors, awesome sound system), sometimes with a backup car following
discreetly behind.  Then we'd pick up a hitchhiker and connive to hand
him (always a him) a beer or a coke or something that had been laced with
300 mics or more of LSD (we tried other psychedelics, but mushrooms took
too long to come on, and mescaline made the subjects carsick).

Then we started acting ridiculous, making jokes and such so the initial
hilarity of the drug would be masked by the general hilarity in the car.
About an hour and a half to two hours into the trip, driving slowly so as
not to get to where the hitchhiker was headed too soon, the hilarity
would kick in hard core and we'd distract the fellow while our driver
picked a deserted side-road.

Then we'd hit the light and sound machine.  Lights would come on all over
the inside of the car, and beams would be split and reflected by mirrors
and chrome.  At the same time, a booming sound would come through the
stereo, somewhat mechanical, but fully eerie.  We'd all panic, and the
driver would run the car roughly off of the road, giving me (it was
usually me in the back seat) the chance to put the plastic bag with
powdered ketamine, or a rag soaked in ether, over the hitchhiker's nose
and mouth.

Meanwhile, the two in the front seat (and sometimes those of the
confederates in the other car who were not acting as lookouts), would put
on cheap haloween masks and gaudy costume jewelry and approach the poor
sucker, while I slipped out the door and got the surgical supplies from
the back.  The stereo by this time had muted the eerie humming and was
playing mostly nonsense.  Used car lot commercials played backwards,
Tibetan chants, the kind of stuff used as psychological warfare at Waco.

The masked folks would gently restrain the baffled guy and monitor his
anaesthetic intake (ketamine and ether -- and nitrous oxide in a pinch --
are also anaesthetics of a sort) while I performed the vasectomy.  One of
the easier surgical operations, if you're not worried about making it
reversable.

To cover our tracks, we added a third testicle made out of teflon-coated
ceramic, and drew alien symbols in iodine on the hitchhiker's forehead,
before letting him go and speeding off for another subject.

Years later when I did some research on UFO reports for Terence McKenna I
didn't see any of our subjects' stories directly, but I did notice many
motifs which were obviously drawn from our activities.

When I came back from the Peace March, the group had gone underground or
disbanded or (maybe, though I didn't hear anything about it) had been
caught. I haven't seen any of them since.  And I'm have some regret, of
course, about the extremes of my youthful zeal.  Still, all in all, no
harm no foul. Anyone can have children, but not very many people get to
have a story about being kidnapped and having one's testicle count
augmented by aliens from another planet.

--

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #368 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  19:54:50
 To   : all
 Subj : foreskin replacement (1 of 3)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

~Newsgroups: rec.arts.bodyart
~Subject: Foreskin restoration

[clip (Ouch!) ]

                NON SURGICAL FORESKIN RESTORATION
                ---------------------------------
                    The Stretching Procedure


NOTE:  This information was originally published by Brothers United for
Future Foreskins (BUFF), and should not be construed as medical advice.
The information is general and does not apply to any one person.

WHAT TO EXPECT FROM RESTORATION
-------------------------------

Regardless of your choice to stretch or go ahead with a surgical
procedure, EVERYONE who has gone through a restoration procedure reports a
substantial increase in the sensitivity of the glans (head of the penis)
after a few weeks of being re-covered.

Surgery is not for everyone, and this information is an alternative to a
surgical procedure.  While the surgical procedure offers instant results,
it should be noted that the taping method described herein requires a
great deal of time and patience, and most importantly, emotional
fortitude.

Stretching usually progresses in three stages:  Initial, Equilibrium, and
Extension.  The following are instructions for the Initial stage:

First measure the penis limp, along the top from the base to the tip.
Next measure how far you can pull the skin up over the head, during
erection, both with light finger pressure and then with as much force as
you can WITHOUT causing pain.  Record these measurements, because they
will be used as a guide to your progress.  The measurements taken during
erection are the most accurate ones because the size of the flaccid penis
can vary greatly.

THE TAPE STRAP
--------------

After a hot bath, to make the skin soft and loose, pull it as far forward
over the head as possible, without causing pain.  Use a piece of tape to
strap it in place, running it side to side instead of top to bottom.
Taping side to side will make it easier to urinate with the tape in place.
For some people, it will be necessary to sit down and urinate.

I recommend a good first aid tape, don't use Scotch tape, the edges can
cut the skin.

TAPING TECHNIQUE; "THE FINE POINTS"
-----------------------------------

To gain somewhat better adhesion from the tape you are using, you can
paint the skin with tincture of benzoin, which is also known as friar
balsam.  It may be purchased at any pharmacy.  Coat the skin with one
layer to assist the skin to accepting the tape.  It is essential to avoid
pain, nature's way of telling you that your are hurting yourself.  Pain
from taping too tightly suggests that you are causing internal tears in
the skin, which will scar and contract as they heal, impeding progress.
If an erection causes pain, remove the tape IMMEDIATELY.  Some complain
that erections cause the tape to come off.  Others complain that erections
with the tape in place are painful.  All of this varies with the
individual and some people make no complaints at all.

For those circumcised very tightly, there will not be enough skin to cover
the glans at first.  In this case, it is important not to let the tape
touch and stick to the head, since removing the tape will be painful.  A
square of tape face to face with the strap, where it contacts the glans,
will prevent this.  Another way to prevent the tape from sticking to the
head is to apply a light coat of Vaseline, being careful not to get any on
the skin of the shaft.


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #369 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  19:55:12
 To   : all
 Subj : foreskin replacement (2 of 3)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

It is also important that the skin of the penis be clean and free from
sweat and body oils, which will impede the adhesion of the tape.  After
the tape is in place, the head must be free inside the skin so that it can
move and exert forward pressure, which is what will stretch the shaft
skin.  Handling of the penis may cause an erection which make taping
difficult.  Wait until the erection subsides before attempting to
continue.  You will notice with the tape in place the penis will be
foreshortened and the gentle tension on the skin from the pressure of the
glans will cause stretching.  Erections with the tape in place also help
stretching, if they are not painful.

For full effect, it is best to wear boxer shorts that let the penis hang
free, rather than briefs which support the penis and tend to limit the
tension of the stretching.

HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE?
----------------------

The size of the penis, the length of the head, and the amount of skin
which was circumcised will affect how quickly you get the results you
want.  Your goal is also important.  Some men want just enough skin to
cover the head.  Others want more.  The time required varies widely
between individuals.  In stretching, some men have attained full coverage
in four months, while others have taken longer.  The process can take as
long as 1 to 2 years.

THE RESULTS
-----------

Usually, the first result noticed is a change in the color and texture of
the glans, which becomes pink and moist from being constantly covered, and
regains sensitivity.  This happens within a few weeks.  The skin will
stretch noticeably for a week or so, then it will "rest" for a few days.
This leads to initial elation on your part when the results are visible,
and disappointment when the visible progress stops.  A similar "stop and
go" effect occurs with body builders and dieters. PERSISTENCE and
AVOIDANCE OF DISCOURAGEMENT when the skin is "resting" is vital to your
long term success!

THE SCHEDULE
------------

It is important to keep the tape on CONSTANTLY!!  Only constant tension
will stretch the skin permanently.  It is a mistake to try to speed up the
process by sudden sharp pulls.  This can cause internal scars.  You can
remove the tape for washing, and obviously for sexual encounters, but if
you do not remain taped for almost 24 hours a day, progress will be much
slower. Although it seems to be a waste of time to remain taped when
nothing actually appears to be happening, it is important to keep the
glans covered to regain and maintain the sensitivity.

RECORD YOUR PROGRESS
--------------------

Keep a written record of your progress, and if you can, take photographs
each month.  It is a psychological boost to actually see the tangible
proof of progress each month.

WARNINGS
--------

DO NOT use clamps, elastic, weights or any other material that may cause
injury, in an effort to speed up the process.  In particular, do not risk
cutting off the blood supply in the skin, as this can lead to serious
consequences.  There are three ways to tell if the blood supply is being
restricted:

     1.  If there is any pain, it means the tape is too tight.

     2.  If the skin turns blue and feels cool to the touch.

     3.  To test for constriction, press your finger on the skin hard for
         about 15 seconds.  Remove your finger.  The spot pressed will be
         lighter in color.  If it does not return to normal color within
         six to twelve seconds, the blood flow is impaired.  Loosen the
         tape.


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #370 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  19:55:26
 To   : all
 Subj : foreskin replacement (3 of 3)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

THE TAPE RING
-------------

Once the skin has stretched somewhat you will be able to use a tape ring.

If you were not cut tightly, and have enough skin, you can start out with
the tape ring.  Stretch the skin out beyond the glans and wrap a half inch
wide piece of tape around it, tightly enough to hold it in place, but not
so tight as to interfere with urination or to stop blood circulation (some
people have cut half inch tape down to one quarter inch, to start out).
As a rule, if urine will pass, so will the blood.  If the ring is too
loose, it may slip back behind the head and cause constriction, which can
be painful and cut off blood circulation to the head. If this happens,
remove the tape at once and reapply it forming a smaller ring that will be
less likely to slip back.

Some people with unusual problems should stretch under the supervision of
a sympathetic doctor; however, most people can do it alone.  In any event,
it is recommended that you thoroughly familiarize yourself with the
procedure described before trying it.  Most of the problems occur from not
reading the material completely.

PENILE HYGIENE
--------------

Contrary to the old wives tale, it is not necessary to wash the penis
every day.  Cleanliness of the penis has been OVER-EMPHASIZED for many
years and this is one of the main reasons for routine infant circumcision
being performed today.

After a week or so of being taped, you may notice a whitish secretion
collecting under the skin.  This is smegma, which is simply cast off skin
cells from the top layer.  It is not harmful in any way.  The only reason
to wash it off is to remove the odor if you find it offensive.

Do not forcibly remove the tape for washing.  Let it loosen from natural
body oils and perspiration.  When it has worked loose enough to enable you
to remove the tape without pain, you can wash.  Washing requires only warm
water.  If you wish to use a soap, make certain it is a mild soap.  You
may find that using a strong soap on your newly sensitized glans may cause
irritation.



--
[e-mail]                  | Ken Richards shall not be liable for
[e-mail]        | any direct, consequential, or incidental
P O Box 1197  Youngstown, OH 44501 | damage resulting from buffering, reading,
                                   | or other knowledge of this bulletin.


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #371 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  19:56:42
 To   : all
 Subj : great sewers
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

~Newsgroups: alt.tasteless
Subject: Re: What's A Cloaca ? (was Re: Cuddly ..)


In article <2v1itq$[e-mail]>, [e-mail]
([e-mail]) writes:

>[e-mail] (Patrick Kearney) writes:

>>I think a cloaca was a Roman shithouse or cesspit. Isn't that where
>>Heliogabalus ended up after he was murdered? Or was that Caligula?

>Close - but no ceegar.
>cloaca (klo-a'kah) [L. "drain"]:

[proper physiological definitions]


Note the Latin derivation.  More than just a drain, it was also the
term applied to munincipal sewers.  There was a big one in Rome,
called the Cloaca Maxima, the "great sewer."  This was the
inspiration for the name of a group of needleworking/socializing
ladies in Dodge City, Kansas, including, I think, my
great-grandmother.  They called themselves the Cloacae Maximae since
they considered themselves to be great sewers.


--
Charles R. Tenney        [e-mail]

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 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #372 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:01:00
 To   : all
 Subj : lesbians
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


From: [e-mail] (jeff vogel)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre


Yesterday in New York, I was SURROUNDED by lesbians when we went out
to dinner.

It wasn't intimidating. I mean, in my life, I've met thousands of
people who'd rather die than sleep with me. A dozen more didn't make
much of a difference.

                                        - Jeff Vogel
                                        Rutgers math

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 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #373 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:04:38
 To   : all
 Subj : chicken tandoori, run run
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Bill Bill)
Organization: wareware
Subj: chicken tandoori, run run



he sits there stuffing it in. jamming it in his mouth,
red-orange spice running down and dripping off his chin.
it's enough for all those starving children. will they die
of it, or will he? guess it'll balance out if he goes first.

we can see his stomach begin to bulge. malnutrition is a
signed quantity. vent gasses hiss, maybe from his
bellybutton.

i plug my PCMCIA videocam into my laptop and switch on the
custom compression hardware. spot the site antenna and
aim, and i'm pumping him out on the multimedia backbone,
50 easy frames a second since he changes so slowly.
thirteen; fourteen. an orgy of thighs and breasts.
fifteen.  we are waiting for the bone. there will have to
be a bone.

the cook is really sweating over his grill. he is just
flying. faster than a card shark; chicken meats sizzle
and flip and spice and sizzle, then he fork-tosses them
to the chicken-jammer's plate. pretty good aim at five
paces.

we'll never know if it was body strain or if he let a bone
slip in deep enough to puncture his heart. we just see him
slump, and a thick wad of meat falls from his mouth to
splash on the concrete. tasty stuff. no more breathing. i
leave my laptop on the bench broadcasting, and we close in
on him from all sides. it's easy to find the top and
bottom of the stomach; a couple of simple swipes with the
sword and we have the full bladder of digesting meat.

somebody brushes off the wet stuff. we staple together the
esophagus stub and the tail of dangling gut - it makes a
pretty tough handle that way. i hold it up to my broadcast
camera; this one's for you, kids. got the meat, and i'll be
on my way now. please stay alive.


bill                    bill         @          wetware.  com


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #374 [700] + 399
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:08:26
 To   : ace lightning
 Subj : mouse dancer
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Bryan O'Sullivan)
Subj: Apokryphos


Cat cornered yet another mouse, and was preparing to toy with his
prize in a desultory fashion when the mouse spoke up, his whiskers
aquiver with fear, eyes bright with reflected death.

`I am Little Dancing Mouse, and I see that you chased me because you
were bored.  If I dance for you, will you set me free?'

`If you dance well enough to *my* music, yes.'

And so cat stretched himself out in the grass by the corner, giving
Little Dancing Mouse enough room to dance, but not enough to escape.
And he yawned a gaping yawn, and licked his lips.

Cat purred a slow song of Basking.  Little Dancing Mouse's tail
coiled about himself as he described a circle with little solemn
steps.  His paws flexed in the grass as he stretched himself to his
full length. He arched his back, stood on his hind paws, and toppled
gracefully onto his back as the song drew to a close.

`Did I please you?  May I go?'

But Cat's fangs glittered white as he said, `I'm not done with you
yet.'

Cat yawned once more, and started into a song of Attention.  As the
words flowed in a coherent stream, so did Mouse twist his body slowly
about.  When the theme abruptly changed, Mouse was ready each time,
and bounded into a routine of distraction which lasted a few moments.
Though his whiskers still quivered, it was with concentration now as
he followed the thread of the song, not fear.

As Cat continued, however, the intensity of his words increased.  His
enunciation became more abrupt, his tone sharper.  Little Dancing
Mouse began to find it hard to keep up, and realised Cat had moved
his song to one of Preparing.  He permitted his concentration to
waver just enough to see Cat balancing himself more finely, and the
muscles in his haunches bunching.  But Cat remained in place, and
continued his song.

Cat's voice crept towards a crescendo; he trembled with each staccato
syllable.  Little Dancing Mouse was a frenzy of motion.  His heart
pounded; his paws threatened to lose their purchase on the grass as
he threw his soul into the dance.  The unfamiliar words of the song
of Muscle Tensing jarred his mind; he caught himself in an error, but
knew his art well enough to cover it up.

When Cat thundered out the few focused, sharp, lithe syllables of the
song of Springing, Little Dancing Mouse froze in place, his
expression a rictus of fear.  Once Cat came to the end of the song
and Little Dancing Mouse realised he was not to be devoured, though,
he permitted himself to slump to the ground.  He savoured the tremble
of fatigue in his muscles.

Cat stood up.  `Not bad.'  And with that, he padded away into the
shade to doze.

A few hours later, Cat happened to corner Little Dancing Mouse once
more.  `Ah, it's the dancer again.  Know any good jokes?'

Little Dancing Mouse gave him a blank look.  His eyes flickered to
Cat's haunches, where the muscles were flexing.

Cat balanced himself to pounce.

        <b

--
Bryan O'Sullivan              Will herd cats for food.  3270: my life are yow.
Computing Science Department  Email: [e-mail],  [e-mail]
University of Glasgow         World Wide Wuh:  http://www.scrg.cs.tcd.ie/~bos/

---
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #375 [700] + 398                    Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:09:18
 To   : juliet                                              27 Aug 94  01:08:46
 Subj : children's songs
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: [e-mail] (Digital Jade)
Organization: X Industries Productions; Juvenile
Subj: Children's fun with Mr. X


Twinkle, twinkle little star,
A power source is what you are.
Up above the world so high,
A dimming brightness in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle little star,
A power source is what you are.

Peter Peter, Techno-cheater,
Upgraded his old repeater:
He cloned his wife from a single cell
And recovery is going well.

[e-mail]


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #376 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:10:36
 To   : all
 Subj : what he learned last weekend
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Conspiracy of Cartographers)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre



I)   what a ground hornet looks like

II)  what a ground hornet sting feels like (several times)

III) how mad a hive a ground hornets get when you put a tent stake
     through their home

this is not the order that I learned these facts in.

-quasi


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #377 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:11:20
 To   : juliet                                              27 Aug 94  01:15:06
 Subj : the creative process
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Narciso Jaramillo)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Organization: Word Wranglers, a division of General Antics GmbH
Subj: the creative process


You are sitting on a beach.

1> wait

You are sitting on a beach.

2> wait

You are sitting on a beach.

3> wait

...

You are sitting on a beach.

67925> wait

A small piece of noise floats onto the shore.

You are sitting on a beach.
There is a small piece of noise here.

67926> get noise

Taken.

67927> examine noise

It is very small.  It looks young and underdeveloped.

67928> throw noise back

You throw the noise back into the sea with a little backspin.
It skips on the surface three times, then falls in.

67929> wait

You are sitting on a beach.

...

--
...                                             [e-mail]

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 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #378 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:12:06
 To   : amethyst
 Subj : smart drugs?
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────







If smart drugs work so well, why don't they test for them at chess
tournaments?


           - scott dorsey



---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #379 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:13:40
 To   : all
 Subj : ah, freshness!
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


From: [e-mail] (coyote)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subj: Freshness Dating: A Testicular Tumor


I dated Freshness once. She was the model of clean and alive femininity,
given to flowing white skirts and carefree cotton blouses. She was witty
and she sparkled and purled as a gleeful brook in a sun-dappled glen.
She was never afraid to perform kicking splits to titillated crowds; she
had nothing to fear -- she was as soft and sweet and pure as talc on a
baby's bottom. April may shower, but Freshness douched religiously. Sadly,
she died in a tragic accident. It seems someone at the truck stop she
frequented mistook her for a bottle of oil and vinegar salad-dressing
and squeezed her to death.

---
[e-mail]


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #380 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:15:18
 To   : all
 Subj : paul's dick
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Paul Lord)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Organization: the breaking of small, important bones
Subj: Getting reacquainted with an old friend


I never understood the point of genital piercings.

I mean, they used to squick me pretty hard, just as a concept, for
reasons most males will easily understand.  Even when I began hearing
more-than- appreciative stories from female friends on the receiving end
of such acoutrements, with not very subtle subtext that my fuckability
quotient would soar if I were so enhanced, I still balked pretty hard at
the thought of any sharp object in the immediate vicinity of my groin.

So, for reasons I still don't entirely understand, I'm now on my fifth
day with a Prince Albert, and let me tell you, I had it ALL WRONG.  This
is FASCINATING.  I'm becoming reacquainted with an old friend: my dick.

Stick with me on this one.  Ask any adult male what the most familiar
part of his body is, and I'll lay you even odds he'll say "My dick." He
might be the most arrogant pretty boy on the block, but his face in the
mirror will still occasionally startle him.  He may have exquisite hands,
hands that have shaped wonders in ink or clay, hands with a myriad of
historically significant scars, but he couldn't *draw* them.  Walk up to
a random guy on the street, though, hand him a pad and pen and say
"Sketch your dick for me, will you?" and he'll capture every. last.
detail.  Every vein, every dimple, every nick, the scars from his
circumcision (or lack thereof, in memory of andrei), the amount and
density of pubic hair, the little bruise he acquired last night when the
noose slipped, you name it.  Ask him for a schematic diagram of
pleasurable nerve endings, no problem.  The limits of possible artistic
impression are staggering; I mean, wouldn't YOU like to point to the wall
and say, "and here, photographed with the Wide Field Planetary Camera
*after* the corrective lenses were installed, is my phallus, colorized by
temperature.  On the left, flaccid, on the right, eee-rect!" For some, a
faithful traveling companion, for others a tyrranical commandant, for
still others the last friend in a lonely world: a man and his dick.

It's this familiarity that breeds ennui.  When you know someone that
well, and for that long, things start to slow down.  The roller coaster
levels off.  The spring dampens.  Inertia sets in.  You and your dick,
you think you've done it all. [1]

Not me.  Not any more.

Like I say, I'm fascinated.  I spent the first two mornings-after
thinking "[yawn] arghasdblpfdm...morning...now wha--oh, right.  I Don't
Believe I Went And Did That To Myself.  Gently, gently, time to clean..."
Now, though, it has healed to the point where I don't even have to be
careful about leaping into my undergarments.  I had it done by a friend
who has done dozens of pierces and scars on people, but had never done a
PA.  I must say, she did an excellent job.  Just aesthetically, it's a
beautiful pierce, and I don't say that because of my particular
attachment to the subject; it is well placed and well pierced, and has
healed remarkably well.  You just don't expect to see a ring there, you
know?  It completely changes my appreciation of, well, my dick.

Yes, I hear you, form, form, form.  Lets talk functionality for a moment.
Two words: urethral stimulation.  Need I say more?  Lack of sensitivity
during safe sex getting you down?  A few preliminary solo experiments
indicate to this intrepid reporter that this pierce goes a LONG way
towards remedying LSS (Latex Sucks Syndrome).  Inject new life into those
boring old tried and true methods!  Loads of fun in groups or all by
yourself!  I should market this idea to impotence clinics.  "A hardware
solution to a software problem.  Why spend hundreds on therapy?" &c. &c.

I intended to keep this tidbit of fles^H^H^H^Hinformation to myself until
such time as it became necessary to divulge it.  Not a chance.  I've had
an endless stream of visitors come over to visit my dick.  College
friends who previously showed no interest in my naked body suddenly
crawled out of the woodwork and asked me to drop trou.  I've been greeted
with "How's it hangin'?" more times than I can count, and I still haven't
got an appropriate answer (suggestions welcome; they should be painful
enough puns that the recipient regrets his sorry attempt at wit).  I find
myself starting a majority of my sentences in conversation with the the
phrase "My dick," which immediately makes me want to misquote Anatole
France.  "I have come here today to speak to you on the subject of my
dick; a topic which offers me an almost unlimited opportunity."

If and when I know how other like my New and Improved dick, trust me, I
*won't* post about it.

[1] This post was half finished before I read of Mr. Woodyatt's dilema.
    The post itself explicitly refrains from posing as commentary
    thereupon, allowing itself the merest hint of association in a
    footnote.  Honest, folks, I just wanted to say "my dick" a lot.

paul
--
"My Dick.  I like that in a woman."


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #381 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:18:04
 To   : juliet                                              27 Aug 94  01:15:06
 Subj : HWRNMNBSOL does the zoo (1 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Andrew Solberg)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subj: The Solbergs Do The Zoo


Andy: Ah, the heady aroma of the zoo.

Dema: Buy me a Slushee.

                                - * -

Dema: Look! baby elephant.

Andy: It's beyond cute.  Hon, get me one.

Dema: How on earth did something that large get squeezed out of its
      mother? Oh God, think about it!

Andy: We are, of course, talking about a uterus that could, in a
      pinch, be used as a sleeping bag.  Dema, are the moats around
      these critters meant to keep them in or little kids out?

Dema: I think they're actually meant to trap little kids.  They fall
      down the steep walls and die there, kind of like pitcher plants.

Andy: I get it!  The kids die and their bodies decompose into a thick,
      nutrient-rich mulch........

Dema: .....which plants grow in, which the elephants eat....

Andy: Oo! Oo! Let me say it!

Dema: Okay.

Andy: "....And Thus Is The Cycle Of Nature Renewed."

Dema: People are staring.

                             - * -

Andy: Okay, smart gal, I got another animal habitat question.

Dema: I am woman, hear me bullshit.

Andy: How come all the fake-rock-walls for the bear habitats always
      look like the interiors for supervillains' secret bases in
      James Bond flicks?

Dema: They do not.

Andy: They do!  Imagine sliding stainless-steel doors....a monorail....

Dema: I don't see any nuclear stockpiles anywhere.

Andy: Okay, so the comparison isn't exact.

Dema: I feel sorry for furry animals in this climate.

Andy: Think how Dr. No felt.

                           - * -

Dema: They don't have a meerkat!

Andy: A what?

Dema: A meerkat!  Like in _The_Lion_King_!

Andy: Are you sure that's a real creature?

Dema: Of *course* it is!  Disney wouldn't *dare* invent it!

Andy: I don't get it.

Dema: Educational stuff, dear.  Kids learn a lot from eco-schmaltz
      like that picture.  There should be at least a degree of
      versimilitude in all the characters.


(Continued)


---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #382 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:18:36
 To   : juliet                                              27 Aug 94  01:15:06
 Subj : HWRNMNBSOL does the zoo (2 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Andy: I don't buy it.

Dema: Then buy me another Slushee.

Andy: Let's go to the monkey house.

Dema: You hate the monkey house.

Andy: Yeah, but maybe they'll have a Lorax.

Dema: A Lor....?......oh, shut up.

                               - * -

Andy: I hate the monkey house.

Dema: Don't be such a baby.

Andy: Let's go look at reptiles.  Reptiles are cool.

Dema: Just a few minutes.  I like the spider monkeys.

Andy: Oh God.  It's looking at me.

Dema: For crying out loud, it's just an orangutan.

Andy: I don't care.  It looks like my relatives.

Dema: No it doesn't.  Don't be psycho.

Andy: Look at him.  Just kind of squatting there, staring at me.  Just
      the way grandpa used to look at people from his porch.

Dema: You're not a well man.

Andy: If you look really close, you can see his muttonchops.

Dema: No you.....oh.

Andy: See?  See?!

Dema: Let's leave.

                               - * -

Andy: Well, what have we learned today?

Dema: That three Slushees is too many Slushees?

Andy: No, I'm serious.

Dema: So am I.

Andy: Look, we've just had a fun-filled day in the zoo -- a slice of
      Americana life, you know?  So -- what conclusions can we draw?

Dema: Do I sense a bit of angling going on?

Andy: Never!

Dema: Well.......we learned that hippos loaf at the bottom of their
      pool and are very, very boring......

Andy: .....Yes........

Dema: .....and we learned that baby goats don't like the way you smell
      and won't let you pet them.....

Andy: .....true, true....

Dema: .....and we learned that zebras fart every bit as loud and smelly
      as regular equines....

Andy: .....verily and forsooth.....

Dema: .....AND we learned, sweet man, that despite spending a day in 100
      degree weather amongst mobs of tired, sweaty, whiny kids, I still want
      to have a baby.

Andy: GOD DAMMIT !!!

--
HWRNMNBSOL is:     * I will not lie to Usenet.  I will not lie to Usenet.
Andrew J. Solberg  * I will not lie to Usenet.  I will not lie to Usenet.
Chief Apologist:   * I will not lie to Usenet.  I will not lie to Usenet.
Rice U. Math Dept. * I will not lie to Usenet.  I will not lie to Usenet.



---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #383 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:20:36
 To   : all
 Subj : My Cat, Socks
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Chelsea Clinton)


I am gratified to be able to announce that I have succeeded in teaching
Socks a new trick. I was able to put this to good use the other day when
Dad and Al Gore received a delegation of religious leaders at the Oval
office. I was hiding out under the desk as usual. Dad has become so
desperate that he has to pretend to pay attention to these religious
cocksuckers...Oral Roberts, you know, the usual lying hypocritical scum
of the Earth whom Jesus has chosen as his vicars on Earth. Dad and Al
can't stand them...just the other day I heard Bill asking Al: "Hey Al,
what would YOU do with a 700-foot Jesus?", and Al replied : "I'd stick it
up Tipper's 700-foot twat!"

All this by the way. To resume: the biblical parasites were assembled in
conclave in the Oval office, sitting in a circle as in a circle-jerk. One
of them was droning on about some stupid shit called "Creation Science",
when who should appear but Socks. Socks strode to the center of the
circle, looked around with imperious disdain, sat down, shot one leg into
the air, and proceeded to lave his genitals. It took me a long time to
train him to do this on command, believe me; but it was worth it. Bill
and Al strove gamely to ignore this spectacle, but the Christers sat
transfixed, as if they were an audience who had paid to witness a
performance.

Chelsea Clinton.

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #384 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:22:36
 To   : all
 Subj : flower pot
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Jason D Corley )
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subj: A Natural Woman



Next door there was a construction worker and his wife, who worked in
a diner downtown.  They had a window with a sill and they told you
once when you came over for dinner that they loved it more than
anything else in the apartment.  The worker rubbed his shaven chin
and scraped his spoon across the bottom of the blue bowl, scooping up
the last bit of melted white ice cream.  He said "Our place in the
projects didn't have a window.  Someone bricked it up from outside."

        They were glad to be out of the projects.  She grew flowers
on the sill, blue and red blossoms, vines and small bushes with wide
leaves.  From the street, their window looked like an apartment on
fire with green flames, flowers like sparks exploding out, swaying in
the light breeze.  He would come home, carrying his lunchbox and
stopping to rest on the stairs below for a moment, while he listened
for the small click of her tiny shears and the floating, drifting
flower due to sway down onto his crossed arms or his cheap baseball
cap.  Then he would look up as if he were surprised.  She would laugh.

        Then she had to start working late at the diner.  She came
home later and later, and he would then walk right in, knowing she
was not at home to cut a flower for him.  Soon, she was working 12
hours a day and arriving home very late.  She was tired, very very
weary, and yet she would smile.

        One Friday he knocked on your door.  He wanted to surprise
her. He rubbed his clean hands together as he talked to you and the
old pool shark from across the hall.  "She's had a tough week." he
said.  He brought you and the shark into the apartment.  He told you
her favorite song and opened the window.  You three stood there at
the green window sill heavy with vines and flowerpots and waited for her.

        Then she came, walking down the sidewalk.  She put her foot
on the first step.  He shouted, a large brassy voice made for
commanding soldiers into battle: "ONE TWO THREE"  And you and the
pool shark sang "Good love!  Good love!"  Her head snapped up, and
her smile widened. You sang "Good love!  Good lovin'!"  You shouted
it and meant it.  He stepped forwards to the window.  "I was
feelin'..." he said, extending his large meaty hands.  "So bad."  His
finger caught on one of the creeping vines, and it tugged softly on a
flowerpot, which rolled lazily around and off the ledge.  It dragged
vines and flowers and other pots down with it.  The pot smashed her
face in.  She collapsed to the sidewalk.

        "I asked my favorite...."


--
****************************************************************************
"Generally, things have gone about as far as they can possibly go when
 things have got about as bad as they can reasonably get."--Tom Stoppard
Jason D. Corley (aka [e-mail]) is a fugitive from Reality

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #385 [700] + 401
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:24:50
 To   : all
 Subj : Wierd Quiz part 1
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (Tim Dedopulos)


The Kook Report
---------------

How wierd are you?

Many occultists, pagans, new-agers, geeks, physicists and little old
men like to claim that they are wierd, at least when faced with
blantantly normal company. But how true is it? After all, there's a
lot more to being wierd than just knowing some funky stuff.

To see if you actually capture the unhinged feeling of tentative
lunacy that makes up geniune wierdness, just go through the following
quiz question by question, keeping score.

The more points you get, the stranger you are.

If you don't understand any of the questions, then you can assume
that you scored a 0 for that question.

The genuinely wierd may like to email me their scores, although this
is not an action that will gain you any bonus points. If this is so
in your case, I undertake not to react *too* offensively to such an
email, perhaps.

---------

In the following quiz, select the lettered answer a) - f) that most
closely corresponds with your actual feelings/attitude/life. You may
occasionally be asked to make a choice in advance - do so before
reading the answers for maximum effect. Each answer will score from 0
to 5 points, with a) being 0, f) being 5, and b) - e) being 1 - 4
points respectively. This is very intuitively obvious, if you are
able to thin about it. You know. c) is 3, yeah? Yeah. You got it.
Trust me.

1.  MAKE A CHOICE - Select a number between 1 and 100 NOW!

You chose:

a) 2-4, 6, 9-16, 19-22, 24-41, 43-56 or  58-99
b) 1, 7, 69 or 100
c) 42
d) 23, 5, 17 or 18
e) 8
f) 57

2. I'm going to say "The Illuminatus! Trilogy" to you.

a) What is the Illuminatus! Trilogy?
b) Oh, that old Yarn by Wilson, right?
c) I read the Illuminatus once. It was funny.
d) I've read the Illuminatus many, many times. It contains the
   secrets of the universe, if you look hard enough.
e) I own a printed & bound copy of the Principia!
f) I sign my name with the letters KNS after it.

3. You're walking down the street, dressed in your favourite
clothes.

a) Businessmen look upon you as an equal
b) No-one pays much attention. Trendy young people snigger slightly.
c) Little children look slightly nervous at you.
d) Builders and labourers cross the road to avoid passing you.
e) A concerned citizen 'phones the police, who send in a SWAT team
   to take you out. Ha! It does no better than the last three.
f) No-one pays much attention, until they try to seduce you. When
   they see your underwear, those who survive run away very, very
   fast, and do not talk to anyone about sex ever again. You *do*
   try to to sit down too much, though.

4. What do you think of Cthulhu?

a) Ummm... its a random string of unintelligble letters?
b) Monster from Lovecraft's horror fiction.
c) Tentacled monster that sleeps imprisoned in a sunked island
   in the south pacific, waiting to rise again.
d) A fascinating magickal egregore, very useful for dream-based
   rituals to Unknown Kaddath.
e) Hng! Hng! Ia! Ia Cthulhu f'thagn! f-f-f-father! YOG SOTHOTH!!
f) [Secretive smile] Who? Didn't you come in here to buy a book,
   sonny, not to ask an old man silly questions?


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #386 [700] + 402
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:25:16
 To   : all
 Subj : Wierd Quiz part 2
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

5. How do you derive your regular income?

a) I work in an office. Why?
b) I get a grant.
c) I'm on welfare hand-outs.
d) I deal drugs in Times Square.
e) My father, who dies some years ago, left me an inheritance that
   produces a modest monthly stipend. It isn't fantastic, but it's
   more than enough to keep my work going without 'dipping into the
   capital'.
f) Money comes to me as and when I need it. The means varies from
   day to day - yesterday, I found N$3000 (Three Thousand Nigerian
   Dollars) hiddem inside a cat.

6. Bob?

a) Jim?
b) Oh yeah, what do you call a disabled guy in a swimming pool, haha.
c) Haha! Slack! The Anti-Bob! Kill me! Frop! Hahaha!
d) ... Ha! Watch me go! I'm the cosmic neutron gun! Throw my switch
   and watch _me_ blast you into space, baby! I ate the earth
   for breakfast, but it tasted crap so I spewed it back up again!
   Nothing can come close to me, because _I_COME_CLOSE_TO_IT_!! I...
e) That'll be $5, please.
f) No.

7. MAKE A CHOICE! Select a number between 1 and 10 NOW!

You chose:

a) 1, 5, 7, 8, 10.
b) 3
c) 2
d) 9
e) 6
f) 4

8. Where, to your mind, do 'Strange Phenomena' start being _strange_?

a) Anything that science can't explain easily.
b) Telepathy. That really wierds me.
c) A Rain of Live Frogs.
d) Crop Circles appearing in concrete.
e) Large demons appearing on live TV and ripping up a politician.
f) From the womb onwards, dude.

9. What is Magick?

a) David Copperfield. (But you spelt it wrong - no 'k', dumb-head)
b) Strange people in silly clothes doing pointless things to
   chickens.
c) Frazer's Law of Sympathy and Law of Contagion.
d) The art of causing change in conformity with will.
e) All life is Magick.
f) Laughter.

10. Do you possess any psychic powers?

a) Aw, frag off smeghead.
b) No, but I wish I did.
c) Well, I am very intuitive and in touch with my femenine nature.
d) I know who's on the phone before I answer it.
e) Yes, I often get visions which later come true. Bookies hate
   me.
f) Yeehaw! I've nearly got the full set! All I need now is
   Full-contact Psychometry! Say.. you wouldn't swap me for
   2 Telepathys and a Clairvoyance, would you? I could throw in
   a Green Fingers, too...

11. Do you play any Role-Playing Games?

a) Dungeons and Dragons leads to Satanism and suicide. I *way* too
   smart for that.
b) Oh boy, yes! I only stop playing CarWars to go to the toilet
   once a week!
c) Yeah, sure, I've played some role-playing games. They're an
   interesting exercise.
d) I read White Wolf(tm) Rulebooks, but I don't actually play.
e) I write role-playing games professionally, as a matter of fact.
f) Play??? Look bud, all my best magick was learnt from RPGs!
   Don't believe me? Watch, then as I fireball your cat!
   ***WHOOOOOSSSSSSHH*** **WHUMP**  *MEEeeoooww......*
   HAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #387 [700] + 403
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:25:42
 To   : all
 Subj : wierd quiz part 3
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

12. A typical thing that your parents would say to you is:

a) "Hello, dear, it's your mother. When are you bringing the kids
   round to see us again? I hope you're eating properly... I've
   been so tired recently."
b) "TURN THAT BLOODY NOISE DOWN!"
c) "Mph. Snrph. Wassup? Uh? Its 2am, forgodsake!"
d) told to you only by mediums, 'cos they're no longer alive.
e) "Its who??"
f) Nzrgnbit Zipplikaddah Cherbis Gazrag Earth Minnip Koodah Soon.
   Mwahahah!

13. Do you see auras?

a) What they?
b) No.
c) I tried once or twice, but no luck.
d) After 30 minutes naked, alone in a dark room...
e) Yes.
f) That depends. I had a real mean aura in hear once, it chewed up
   half the place, and I had to replace the sofa too. How much is
   it offering? Is it house-trained?

14. If you are going to program a computer, what language do you
use?

a) Oh, I don't program computers. I use Microsoft.
b) BASIC.
c) Pascal
d) Object-extended C++, with the help of some home-defined libraries.
e) I program in bianry, actually.
f) COBOL.

15. Let us suppose that you have a long-lost great-aunt, who dies and
leaves you something in her will. What would it be?

a) Ten Million Dollars.
b) A nice house, say 30-40K, some furniture.
c) A cat.
d) A crumbling old gothic mansion, miles from anywhere, served by a
   single elderly retainer, just as crumbly. As you drive through the
   obligatory little village to take possession, all the locals stare
   at you with a mixture of fear, hope and pity, but all you can
   think of is the wonderful party you're going to have there at the
   next full moon with all your Sorority sisters from the Campus.
e) A mysterious old envelope, containing three sheets that look
   suspiciously like an ancient map...
f) A peculiar brass casket, sealed with wax and covered with odd
   heiroglyphs and symbols. Despite repeated urgings, you put it
   in the attic, unopened, and never touch it again. The matter is
   never mentioned again, save for a strange new addition to your will
   that your lawyer receives a short time later.

16. What did you last eat?

a) A nice pork chop, with some boiled potato and cabbage.
b) Lentil stew with wok-fried beansprouts and a glass of holistic
   carrot extract.
c) A portion of chips.
d) A pizza that was delivered to your door by a jumpy delivery guy.
e) Some wafers made of a mixture of your own blood, your dog's
   sexual fluids, burnt parchment and oatmeal bran.
f) Somalia.

17. What work of Aleistair Crowley's did you find most illuminating?

a) Who?
b) Oh, well, actually, I never read any of his stuff yet, but I will
   real soon.
c) Magick in Theory and in Practice
d) Diary of a Drug Fiend
e) The Book of The Law
f) The Book of Lies

18. What is your normal sexual position?

a) Ohh. Uhh. Um. My. Um. The missionary, I suppose.
b) On top.
c) In train toilets.
d) In the middle.
e) Spread on the altar with a candle up my a**
f) Hanging by our feet from a street lamp, with our ears welded
   together and a pair of moroccan Baboons for light relief.

19. Do you have any pets?

a) Yes, a dog.
b) No.
c) Yes, a cat.
d) Yes, six japanese fighting fish, carefully segregated.
e) Weellll, sort of - I breed rabbits, goats and black cockerels.
   I do try not to get too attached to them, though.
f) Oh yes, *giggle*, yes indeed. He'd like to see my pets, Igor!
   Come, come, let me show you. Its much _easier_ that way.


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #388 [700] + 404
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:26:04
 To   : all
 Subj : wierd quiz part 4
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

20. Which of the following phrases do you use most often?

a) "Isn't the weather dreadful!"
b) "No, thanks."
c) "A beer, Charlie. Make it a cold one."
d) "Oh, I'm sorry. Was that _your_ child? Please, have her back.
   Good day! I beg your...? Fuck you too, Madam."
e) "Ateh! Malkuth! Ve Gevurah! Ve Gedulah! Le Olahm!!"
f) "Please come back, little person! I only playing! Ha! Caught
   you! Oh. You leaking, person! Wake up! Why you all go sleep?
   No fun! You people so boring!"


Now, add up your scores...

How did you do?

0 : Mmm. You're normal. You're so straight, you even think in
lines. In fact, anyone this normal would have never bothered
reading this post, so if you're reading this, you're either
curious, stupid, or very, very silly. This level of person is
dullsville.

1-20 : Well, you've heard the call of the strange out there,
roaming the plains of life. You haven't answered, but at least
you didn't assume it was indigestion. This level of score
indicates a person who is probably more normal. to be fair, than
someone who got 0. If you only got 1 or 2, be *very* careful -
its all downhill from here!

21-40 : You're fairly odd. Your normal friends describe you as
wierd, and you take it as a compliment. You probably wear black,
so as to make a point and slightly worry the people who still
remember World War I. You are likely to be interested in strange
things, but you never seem to manage to get to grips with them.

41-60 : Definately a bit on the wild side. You are probably
a student of paranormal matters. People who get to know you
are often surprised that you aren't as striaght as they first
thought. Your last girl/boyfriend was scared for 3 weeks after
splitting with you, _just_in_case_. You intimidate petty
authority figures, such as interviewers, bus conductors and
moral rights campaigners.

61-80 : You are undoubtedly odd. You worry your family, and
you no longer have any normal friends. When you go on holiday,
you chose places like Transylvania, the Sonora desert, McMurdo
Sound and the Amazonian rain-forest. You mutter and mumble to
yourself in times of stress, and you try not to open your wardrobe
too often, in case something comes through...

81-95 : You, my friend, are either several bats short of a belfry,
or a dedicated, trained occultist. If there is a difference. Plants
wither in your presence, children run away yelping, dogs run away
yelping, even chicken run away yelping, for god's sake. You live in
a different world to the rest of tha planet, and you like it there.
Definately, unashamedly wierd.

96-100 : You are so bizarre that I'm surprised you managed to read
this quiz, let alone complete it. Talking to you is rather like
trying to carry a basket of live turkies up the side of the Empire
States Building in a gale - very hard, extremely dangerous, full
of 'gobble-gobble-gobble' noises, and covered in feathers. The last
time you stopped long enough to observe the rest of humanity,
someone slapped a parking fine on you. You wouldn't know a tax
return unless it came up to you and introduced itself to you by
clan. Most of them do.

<0 or >100 : You are being silly. This post has ended. Give it up.
Go get a life, for god's sake!

[e-mail]

--
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #389 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:32:40
 To   : juliet                                              27 Aug 94  01:15:06
 Subj : mouse enlightenment (1 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

From: [e-mail] (David Filippi)
Subj: cat and mouse game



Once upon a time in suburbia a house cat captured a house mouse. They
were both young: the mouse innocent, the cat vital and fierce. The
cat pinioned the mouse deftly between his razor claws and made her
dance.

"Ahhhhh, you have captured me!  You're going to kill me!" the mouse
wailed.

"Wrong," said the cat.  But he deftly plucked her proud fur, gouged
her eyes, and scratched her lithe tail until she howled in pain.  She
did what mice do in catplay; now cowering, now trying in vain to
bolt, now playing dead under a watchful yet disdainful eye.

After some time, the mouse looked up at the cat.  "You're not going
to kill me," she whimpered sadly.  "You're just going to torment me
forever."

"Wrong again, rodent," and he cracked her a solid one upside the
head. But it indeed seemed that way, as for hours without end the
mouse tried every possible ruse: first to escape; then to soften the
brutal blows; then, at last, to trick the cat into overextending his
claws just enough, to hit her just hard enough to kill her.

"Now I understand, you vile wretch," the mouse moaned from her
extremis.  "You don't care whether I live or die.  You're just going
to wait until my spirit breaks, and then you're going to eat me."

A half-smile crept across the cat's face.  WHAP!  and he struck her
another blow, sending her tumbling.  "Not quite right, sugar dear.
You might try this analogy:  Why did Bodhidharma come from the West?"

"WHAT?" screamed the mouse.  But she was too busy evading a fresh
flurry of thrusts that threatened to perforate her abdomen (once so
young and firm) to consider the koan, had she been able to place the
reference at all.

Time passed, marked in blood.  "And now?" said the cat.

"This cannot end the way you want it to," said the mouse.  "If I say
I understand, you must eat me, and you may not eat me.  But your
hunger must be satisfied, or you shall die.  You cannot torment me
forever."

The cat frowned, for something rang true.  But he said, "You're a
moron," and took another swipe.  Eons passed; the cat did not tire,
nor grow hungry; nor could the mouse escape.  Scars webbed the
mouse's body, and the blood spilled, numberless gallons on no-wax
linoleum.  And it came to pass that the girl-mouse spoke again.

"I now understand.  I -- " and she stopped, as she had become
enlightened.

And the cat said impatiently, "Yes, what?  What do you understand?"

The mouse said, "To torment me further, you must cease tormenting me.
To educate me further, you must allow me to forget.  And though I
have come to know what you seek, only my silence will tell it to you.
Should I wish to live further, I must die."  And the mouse lay down
and prepared herself for death.

And the cat nodded and said, "You are enlightened," intending it as a
cruel prank.  Suddenly satori came upon the cat and he was
enlightened.


(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #390 [700]                          Rcv
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:32:56
 To   : juliet                                              27 Aug 94  01:15:06
 Subj : mouse enlightnement (2 of 2)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

--- * - * ---

Sometimes enlightenment is transitory.  As soon as the mouse realized
the cat wasn't paying attention, she got up and booked for the
forest.  She was not to achieve nirvana this cycle, but she did meet
a French swamp rat named Henri', and they took up together. The cat,
on the other hand, was truly enlightened, and for a long time
wandered about suburbia, his fur sticking up, burrs behind his ears,
and flea-ridden.  He gave up eating meat and sought tender shoots and
pinenuts to subsist.

Eventually he came to the forest, and as luck would have it he
stumbled on Henri' and the mouse during a tryst.

Now it happened that the mouse, whose name was Geraldine, was frigid
unless she was subjected to severe B&D.  Henri' had bound her with
taut vines and spread-eagled her among the roots of a grand old maple
tree, and it was there on a bed of soft moss that the cat found them.
Henri' was well endowed even for a swamp rat; as he plunged his stiff
cock into her diminutive frame, he growled, "Take it, bitch," and the
way her neck was thrown back and her eyes closed bespoke a rapture of
pain.  Her taut belly, crisscrossed with a network of scars, heaved
up and down as she moaned softly in time with his thrusts.

"Hello," said the cat congenially.  Henri' started in abject fear --
rodents know catvoice before ever they hear it.  But Geraldine, her
eyes still closed, wouldn't release him, and shudders racked her
body.

"Don't worry, I've given up eating meat," the cat said, not totally
to the point.  "I just like to watch."  Truth be told, the strong
catsmell excited Henri' like approaching death; with the fatalism of
a true Frenchman he leaned into his work with passion, and soon
rolled off Geraldine's sated body.

"I came," murmured Geraldine, opening her eyes in wonderment.  "I
actually came."  Then there was a tense silence as the incongruity of
the situation dawned on all of them.

The cat broke it by spitting Henri' on his still-sharp claws.  As
death took him he closed his eyes in resignation.  The cat gazed into
Geraldine's eyes, implacable, his monkhood suddenly discarded.

She knew he was older, wiser, now expert in the way old cats are. "It
hasn't been the same, ever, since we -- I mean --" Geraldine trailed
off.

"What had you learned, that time, when you escaped me?"  The cat's
voice was low, urgent.  "I must know."  There was no game now, no
threat, just raw need, a purr subvocalized.

"I -- I -- I don't remember; -- or maybe it was nothing.  I just knew
I wanted to get away, wanted it to end.  And I haven't been alive
since."  Into that steely gaze, she whimpered a little.  "Will you
take me back?"

A pause.  "What?  No.  Leave me alone."  The cat wandered dazed off
into the forest, leaving Geraldine bound, the corpse of her lover
bleeding into the ground beside her.

In this way both cat and mouse were enlightened.

--
Dave Filippi
([e-mail])
before you ask, the cat was not named thomas



---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #391 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.925 Aug 94  20:35:38
 To   : all
 Subj : cookie recipe!
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

possibly apocryphal tale:


     My daughter & I had just finished a salad at Neiman-Marcus Cafe
in Dallas & decided to have a small dessert.  Because our family are
such cookie lovers, we decided to try the "Neiman-Marcus Cookie".  It
was so excellent that I asked if they would give me the recipe and
they said with a small frown, "I'm afraid not."  Well, I said, would
you let me buy the recipe?  With a cute smile, she said, "Yes."  I
asked how much, and she responded,  "Two fifty."  I said with
approval, just add it to my tab.

     Thirty days later, I received my VISA statement from
Neiman-Marcus and it was $285.00.  I looked again and I remembered I
had only spent $9.95 for two salads and about $20.00 for a scarf.  As
I glanced at the bottom of the statement, it said, "Cookie Recipe -
$250.00."  Boy, was I upset!!   I called Neiman's Accounting Dept.
and told them the waitress said it was "two fifty," and I did not
realize she meant $250.00 for a cookie recipe.  I asked them to take
back the recipe and reduce my bill and they said they were sorry, but
because all the recipes were this expensive (so not just everyone
could duplicate any of our bakery recipes... )  the bill would stand.
I waited, thinking of  how  I could get even or even try and get any
of my money back.

     I just said, "Okay, you folks got my $250.00 and now I'm going
to have $250.00 worth of fun." I told her that I was going to see to
it that every cookie lover will have a $250.00 cookie recipe from
Neiman-Marcus for nothing. She replied, "I wish you wouldn't do
this." I said, "I'm sorry but this is the only way I feel I could get
even," and I will.

     So, here it is, and please pass it to someone else or run a few
copies...  I paid for it; now you can have it for free.  (Recipe may
be halved.):

  2  cups butter                                  4   cups flour
  2  tsp. soda                                    2   cups sugar
  5  cups blended oatmeal**                   24    oz. chocolate chips
  2  cups brown sugar                         1   tsp. salt
  1  8 oz. Hershey Bar (grated)               4   eggs
  2  tsp. baking powder                       3   cups chopped nuts
  2  tsp. vanilla  (your choice)

     Cream the butter and both sugars.
     Add eggs and vanilla; mix together with flour, oatmeal, salt,
     baking powder, and soda.
     Add chocolate chips, Hershey Bar and nuts.
     Roll into balls and place two inches apart on a cookie sheet.
     Bake for 10 minutes at 375 degrees.  Makes 112 cookies.

     ** measure oatmeal and blend in a blender to a fine powder.

     Have fun!!!  This is not a joke --- this is a true story..
     ************************************************************
     That's it. Please, pass it along to everyone you know, single
     people, mailing lists, etc.....

 --
 *********************************************************************
 Jonathan C. Summers.                Internet [e-mail]
 Ich bin ein binliner.               CI$      100141,607
 ********************************************************************

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #392 [700] + 400
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.926 Aug 94  18:13:48
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : Corporate (1 of 3)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

i recall mentioning that i was going to write something that even -i-
would consider to be `strange sex'.  this isn't it; but idid promise
you a story before i went to queensland.  here it is.  vaguely
cyberpunk.

...


He leaned back, luminous grafitti patterns on the wall behind him
like a halo.  Waiting.  Arms crossed, eyes closed, confident; it was
his territory, after all.

He could hear her footsteps down the street, her standard, uniform
shoes clacking on the standard, uniform concrete.  He could tell
simply from the sound that she was determined not to show her fear,
her steps slightly louder than usual, each foot put down with just a
little more force than necessary.  His only concession to his own
nervousness was to reach down and run his fingers over the outline of
the oblong drug case in his coat pocket, ensuring that it was still
there.  Not that the Straights would do anything rash or harmful if
they didn't get their drugs; it was just that the survival of his
Tribe depended mainly on the revenues that their illegal chemistry
provided, and he couldn't afford to lose their merchandise.  The
chance of it happening was remote, as in most nervous phobias.

The sound was close, now.  She must have been the only person on the
street at this time of night, almost certainly the only Straight.  He
shifted away from the luminous grafitti so that he could get a look
at her before she could see him.  A precaution, though he knew she
wouldn't try to steal the drugs from him.  To the best of his
knowledge, his Tribe were the only ones who made Casmirin, using
tailored e.coli (illegal - more so than the drug itself, and a
closely guarded secret), so the Straights couldn't really afford to
offend them.

He forced himself into the `dealing-with-a-Straight' mindset, squared
his shoulders and put on a reassuring smile as the sound of her shoes
approached the corner.  The smile froze on his face when he saw her.

The Straight uniform hadn't changed much in a hundred years; if
anything, the female variant was even more severe, designed to convey
the impression that the wearer was, in a business environment, not
someone to mess with.  She had black shoes with sensibly, relatively
low heels, black stockings (unfashionably unladdered) around shapely,
long legs, leading up into a thigh-length jacket, one button
gathering the lapels at her belly.  From there, they opened to reveal
her corporate tie (short, as this season's ties were); they parted to
cup her breasts, which jiggled, otherwise unsupported, beneath a
smooth white silk shirt.  Her hair was collar-length, caramel-
coloured, held firmly in place with gel that he could smell from
where he stood.   She held a courier's case in one hand, the variety
that would close and then refuse to open unless presented with the
correct palm-print; she held a notepad in the other.

She peered through her wide-rimmed zero-prescription glasses, saw a
pale, thin face above the vague outlines of a black overcoat three
sizes too big; the only details she could make out were his armoured
boots, glittering chrome hinge-bolts at the ankles, a shock of black
hair that hung down over eyes that glowed softly in the darkness,
eerily lit from within as was currently the fashion with 'terners.

With a boldness that she didn't feel, she strode up to him and held
out the notepad.  The screen showed a record of a financial
transaction, several thousand credits from the Basel Banking
Conglomerate to Nexus Student Tuition (the standard cover account).
He closed his eyes, the yellow light dimming, reinforced the
assurance of his smile and produced the drug case, casually flipping
it open to reveal rows of plastic tubes filled with pink fluid.  He'd
arranged to include an extra tube, something which the Straights
always regarded as extreme generosity; it barely cost the 'terners
anything to produce Casmirin.  He could have given them a swimming-
pool-full of it for what they were paying.   What a way to go, he
thought.

Her eyes widened slightly, lashes parting with surprise as she noted
the extra tube; she removed and pocketed it before inserting the case
into a rectangular gap at one end of the courier's bag, which hissed
and closed with a sound one ordinarily associated with armoured bank
vault doors.

The transaction was finished, but she felt inclined to delay, to get
to know him personally.  There was a part of many Straights that drew
them to 'terners; the intrigue, mystery, the thrill of danger that
had been carefully excised from Straight life (at least, from the
lower ranks - control wars were something known only to the upper
corporate board-members).

(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #393 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.926 Aug 94  18:14:26
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : Corporate (2 of 3)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

She was presenting all of the standard kinesic signals, but he didn't
seem interested.  In an rare intuitive leap (for a Straight), she
realised that he wasn't going to play Straight games, so she decided
to be as frank as possible, asked him directly:

`Would you like to come back to my apartment for a meal?'  She knew,
at least, that the majority of 'terners lived on the poverty line,
were usually malnourished and rarely refused a meal.  He smiled,
closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, blue and green
grafitti-light staining his hair.

`Unless you have some sort of other arrangement for the evening, I
think I'd rather join you in bed.'  He glanced over to catch her
reaction to this, which was predictable; her eyes widened and her
bright red lipsticked mouth formed an `O'.  She was playing up to his
suggestion, though; she inhaled deeply and noted, with a degree of
pride, how his eyes widened at the sight of her breasts pushing up
further from between the dark grey lapels of her jacket.  Confident
after this minor reversal of roles, she inclined her head towards the
street, and, after a suitable pause, he followed.

It was only a short walk to the rental AV, but long enough for him to
fix in his mind the image of her jacket, tightly hugging her waist
and her behind.  He was sure that her hips were swaying more
exaggeratedly than usual; the sound of her steps was subtly
different - previously, she wasn't trying to attract attention.

The AV was a large, sleekly rounded lump of dark grey plastic, the
walls and door almost fifteen centimetres thick with armour and sound
insulation.   Once inside and moving, the journey was silent; neither
of them spoke.  She was planning the rest of the evening's events,
and he was wondering if he'd have the opportunity to slip into a
bathroom and attach the bioprosthetic hidden in his bag, a device
that, once slipped over his penis, would attach itself to his nervous
and circulatory system, becoming indistinguishable from the real
thing apart from the fact that it was almost thirty-five centimetres
inches long and, when fully erect, eight centimetres in diamter at
the base.  Some of his friends, when cohabiting with Straights,
employed this disguise to engender the belief amongst the mainstream
that 'terners were, by nature, massively endowed.  Male Straights
usually thought along those lines, associating penis size with
success (when they couldn't subliminate it into ostentatious shows of
wealth and/or power); the existence of the prosthetic was another
closely-guarded 'terner secret.  If the male Straights found out
about it, they'd all want one; it would be a huge marketing success,
but the 'terners who made it weren't that poor.  One day, some
Straight research lab would find a reason to replicate it.  He
grinned, trying to imagine what sort of excuse they'd give
Management.

The AV soared up, between canyon-walls of glass, steel and plastic,
holographic displays cutting through the night-fog, false colours
blaring into the night.   He looked through the smoked-plastic
window, taking in the view; anyone could see this, if they could
afford it.  'terners rarely had any cash aside after their ten-daily
allowance for such frivolities.  When smog obscured the view, he
turned back to see her sitting back on the broad leather seat; she'd
unbuttoned the single jacket-button, pushed the lapels aside.  The
tails of the silk shirt lay between her spread legs; she smiled,
threw back her head and, in a most inviting fashion, ran elaborately
long fingernails over the tops of black-clad thighs.  He made his
optic insets flash red, giving a demonic cast to his gaze which
travelled the length of her body, from her exposed throat down to the
smooth, faintly fluorescent, unnaturally white cloth stretched
between her breasts, down to the darkness that lay under the
shirt-tails.  He kneeled forward and shrugged off his coat; he
slipped off her left shoe, then her right, massaging the balls of her
feet, feeling the smooth, uncalloused skin beneath the stockings,
holding her toes in each hand, twisting them first one way and then
another, freeing her muscles of tensions she didn't know she
posessed.  He saw that he wasn't going to get that meal after all;
but if he was careful, he could put on that prosthesis while her
attention was otherwise engaged and perpetrate the myth.

His strong fingers slowly worked their way up her calves, digging
with almost bruising force into her flesh while she ran her
fingertips over the smooth material that strained between her raised
nipples, a tell-tale quiver in the muscles of her thighs belying her
arousal.  Impatiently, his hands darted around behind her hips,
tugging her forward on the seat, bringing her closer to him, scenting
her, his fingers questing up her sides until they found the hem of
her tights, tugging them down and forward, peeling them from her pale
thighs, chasing the slowly sliding terminator of black netting and
white skin with his own pale lips, gently nibbling the scented flesh
and measuring the degree of flinching his bites caused.

His lips slowly, teasingly centred in on hers, gentle side-to-side
movements of his head pushing her legs further apart, giving him
better access, his unnaturally long tongue - another prosthesis/
surgical adaption - snaking out to tease her, then probing further,
running up one side and down the other, tracing a long, slow spiral
which ended at her clitoris, which responded, making its presence
known.

(Continued)
---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #394 [700]
 From : Arifel                              143:10613/1429.926 Aug 94  18:14:46
 To   : Ace Lightning
 Subj : Corporate (3 of 3)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

She ran a hand through his hair, the palm of her hand pressing gently
against his forehead, pushing him back so that he could see the small
pink tube clutched between the thumb and forefinger of her other
hand.  She pinched one end, which gave way with the softest of wet
pops, a fat pink droplet running down her thumb.  She pointed the
open end of the tube at the abbreviated light-brown curl of pubic
hair two centimetres above his nose, squeezed gently; the aromatic
fluid coursed out and dripped onto her skin, twin reflections of his
glowing red eyes glittering in the wet trail which ever so slowly
wound its way down to disappear between her vaginal lips.  The
psychoactive took effect quickly; she arched her back with the sudden
rush, carefully set the tube aside, grabbed his head with both hands
and pressed his face hard against her.

The Casmirin tasted oddly sweet, like honey and cinnamon with a hint
of rose, and it entered his system through the soft tissues in his
mouth just as fast as it had entered hers.  While she was busy
sitting back and moaning softly, eyes closed, he undid the front of
his pants and freed his growing erection.  He cautiously slipped one
hand into his bag and found the prosthesis, one finger reaching
inside and tweaking the soft-switch.  The device came to life, the
end writhing open like a mouth, nanotech lubricants sweating out of
the inside surface.  His lips carefully nestled around her clitoris,
he hummed to distract her further while he slipped the prosthesis on.
It always felt strange; slightly cool, clammy; two distinct, sharp
pricking sensations as it connected to his circulatory system and
began engorging with blood, growing warm; the nanotech lubricant
changing cohesivity and becoming an infinitely flexible fixative, a
tissue-thin tube extending down his urethra and fixing itself to the
inside.  A moment later, the nerve links connected and he experienced
the strange thrill of running his hand along a swelling appendage
that wouldn't have looked out of place hanging under the belly of a
small horse.

Something of the Casmirin-fuelled thrill he felt on grasping his
enhanced endowment made its way to his partner; he didn't change the
rhythm of his ministrations, but she cried out and her thighs
tightened their grip.  He thrust his arms under her knees and pushed
her back in the seat, his lips struggling to maintain their close
contact with hers, tasting her excitement, feeling her climax kicking
back at him and yet staying with her.

They huddled there, clenched together, shaking, her wetness
lubricating the smooth leather seat so that he could slide her
forward again to sit on the edge.  She fell back on the seat, her
breasts shifting apart inside the silk shirt, her attitude one of
dazed, heated lust.  With a 'terner's sense of the dramatic, he
slowly moved back to where she could get a better look.  She lay
before him, panting, her eyes half-lidded, a sensual smile on her
lips, fingers idly running around her nipples which were still
standing up stiffly; the look of surprise which accompanied her
glance down at his erection was almost comical.

`It's true!' she whispered to herself.  He grinned, spread her legs
further apart and moved in, almost revelling in the mixture of lust
and fear in her expression.  He rubbed the head against the outer
lips, lubricating the head with the wetness there before slowly
pressing it into her.  Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist
and held him like a vice; it took all of his concentration to stop
himself thrusting straight into her, which could have injured her.
Instead, he teased her, sliding in a fraction further each time until
the head was pressing against her womb.  She lifted her legs up, her
calves resting on his shoulders, squeezing him and giving an added
depth to her vagina; positioned like this, he could almost get all of
the prosthesis into her without causing undue discomfort.  They
established a smooth motion and as the AV circled the city, he
ploughed on, powered by the Casmirin which surged through his system.
In her, the Casmirin - coupled with some other drug which she'd been
taking - had an unusual effect on her; she was taking slow, deep
breaths in time with his thrusts; every eleventh thrust would bring
her to a minor climax, and these orgasms were growing steadily in
strength, to the point where he was concerned that she might rip the
prosthetic off him.  With the next orgasm, her fingernails broke the
skin on his shoulders; the following one made her moan and shove
herself onto him hard; the next made her scream, and at that point he
decided to release the block he'd put up and allow his own climax.

She slid forward, the leather slick with their combined fluids, and
kissed him passionately.  The prosthesis had detumesced almost to
normal size, the head still inside her; she ran her hand down his
chest and stomach, and then she grasped the prosthesis and
inadvertently triggered the soft-switch.  The device shut itself down
and released its chemical grip on his real penis; it slid off into
her hand.  She looked down, screamed and fainted.




heh.

---
 * Origin: We all want to change the World (143:10613/1429.93)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #397 [700]                          Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  27 Aug 94  13:24:14
 To   : All
 Subj : Ouch!
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Found today in Fidonet.  Pity he actually did use a couple of mild but common
`swear words' -- bugger and bastard spring to mind -- but these can be removed
for later recycling.

=============================================================================
* Forwarded by Gregh (143:10613/1429)
* Area : BBS_USER (Fido BBS User)
* From : Stephen Hudson, 3:712/611.6 (23 Aug 94 12:21)
* To   : John Fisher
* Subj : The clincher
=============================================================================

JF> Yes, I have tried in a number of messages to explain in a calm way my
JF> point of view..  in some of your responses you have been rude, It would
JF> be unnatural for me on occasions to reply in kind..

With this in mind John, I have prepared the following article for your
examination John, I have a bet with god that you wont read it.  There's not
a single swear word, I promise, and its calm and rational!

I'd  like  to take this opportunity John, to describe in a calm way my plan
for  slowly  disembowelling  a Christian.  I have it on good authority that
they  scream  a  lot  for  their  god to help them - I like screams.  I was
thinking of using a Nissan with a power winch to help me.  First, I'd start
with  the  small  pains,  just  snapping a finger or toe here and there, at
random.   Can't get the little bugger used to it, and can't provide so much
that  he'll  pass  out,  gotta keep the tension just so.  Then feed him his
reproductive  organs,  cutting  off  a  fresh  slice  of  salami  for every
mouthful.   By  this stage I would expect the subject to be suffering minor
anxiety and humiliation.

After  finishing  with  the diced testicles, I'd just hose the bastard down
for  a  while  with  ice  cold  water  before taking up the strain with the
Nissan.   Just  gently  stretch  the  little  bugger  out,  making sure you
underline  the  helplessness  of  his  situation  by  running a razor blade
wherever it suits you.  Makes a nice red underline indeed.

At  this stage, the subject would be cold, damn cold, like teeth chattering
cold, so it'd only be nice to warm him up.  A bit of diesel from the Nissan
rubbed  over  him, and a quick oxytorch to the hair should do the trick, if
he doesnt quickly flare up then a dash of citronella oil should help, keeps
the  mossies  away  too!   Now  he's burnt, and in a lot of festering pain.
Just  walk  off  and  leave  him  for  a  while, get him to think about his
situation,  stretched  out,  smashed  digits,  no  genitalia...  a pleasant
mindtrip.   Wait,  say,  4  hours,  have a beer etc, then get back to work.
First,  a  bit  more  tension  on the pulley, I want to hear his hamstrings
twang  when  I  pluck  them.  Tighten up to the point where joints are just
starting  to  tear  loose  from  their  sockets.   Now  its  time  for  the
disemboweling I mentioned!!!

Pretty  simple stuff really, shove a marlin spike straight up his rectum to
a  depth  of  about  1.5  feet, 45 cms for the metric minded.  Wait for his
blubbering to die down a bit, look him in the eye, and rip it out.  If he's
not dead, pour battery acid on his head until he stops blowing bubbles.

Calm  _and_  rational John, how could you find any offense in it?  Its just
hypothetical,  supported in the views of others (if you support this notion
please say "Aye") and essentially harmless really.

How would you go about the disemboweling John? Can you see how this message
has been justified by _your_ words John?

Many regards,

//
\\rudd

-+- Spot 1.3 Unregistered
 + Origin: I.A.N. (3:712/611.6)
=============================================================================



-- Gregh

--- GoldED 2.41+
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #398 [700] - 375                    Rcv
 From : Juliet                              143:10613/1429  27 Aug 94  13:16:00
 To   : ARIFEL                                              25 Sep 94  14:41:34
 Subj : children's songs
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 -=> So sed Arifel <=-

 Ar> Twinkle, twinkle little star,
 Ar> A power source is what you are.
 Ar> Up above the world so high,
 Ar> A dimming brightness in the sky.
 Ar> Twinkle, twinkle little star,
 Ar> A power source is what you are.


Twinkle, twinkle, little star
Daddy bought a motor car.
Turned the key and pulled the choke,
Off we go in a puff of smoke.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Daddy bought a motor car.

(as sung by my 3 1/2 year old son)

or even, the old fave from 'Alice in Wonderland' ...

Twinkle, twinkle, little bat
How I wonder what you're at.
Up above the world you fly,
Like a tea-tray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little bat
How I wonder what you're at.


J.


... I'm not a witch, I'm a who
___ Blue Wave/QWK v2.12

--- EzyQwk V1.02
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #408 [700] - 286 + 430              Rcv
 From : Tal Meta                            143:143/1       28 Aug 94  22:51:28
 To   : Arifel                                              25 Sep 94  14:41:34
 Subj : Re: Might have been this
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
In case y'all forgot, Arifel babbled about Re: Might have been this
to Tal Meta on 11 Aug 94  13:02:38...

A> (nails Tal to his chair with a titanium javelin)

Tal <<twang>>s the javelin, and smiles. Blood burbles in the corners of his
mouth, and he gives a little cough before slumping over.

A> now don't do it again.

Well, thats going to be freaking difficult now that you've killed me, Arifel.
I suppose I'll just have to haunt you and your family line for the next 17
generations to make up for it.

I don't suppose you've got any cheese in this flat, do you?

--- Renegade v5-31 Exp
 * Origin: Phoenix Modernz Systems (143:143/1)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #415 [700] + 416
 From : Black Rose                          143:10613/1882  29 Aug 94  23:46:00
 To   : All
 Subj : Moderator's Guidelines (revised revision)
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
.TID: IMAIL 1.50a (Expired)

And on the first day of his absence, the Aryfel did speak.

But we heard him not, since he was not here.


I hearby decree that moderators of a.d must wear a hat whilst moderating. And a
nifty tie of some sort. HOW you wear these items, and upon what part of the
body, is left to the moderator's inventivness. REALLY silly ideas MUST be
posted. Ahem.

(BR's moderating hat raises a few inches, causing the tie to become loose.)

Whoops. Well, that's enough of that. I wish Arifel was here. I'm BORED. And it's
only day one. Sniff.

Here's something to make everyone's day. A message from Courtney Love, the widow
of everyone's favorite wallpaper, Kurt Cobain. As posted on AOL, and reposted in
several places.

Subj:  MEMEME
~Date:  94-07-28 01:46:41 EDT
~From:  CMLC
Posted on: America Online

DOES IT FREAK YOU OUT  !excuse me but i used to think"famous" meant being
big in Germany and getting nasty looks fromthose big boned mohawked goths
down at Rough Trade,who then went home to thier College radio jock/nanas
clerical worker roomies who boasted that you came in and screamed,yelled
did cartwheeels stole all their  money and did it with Micheal Stipe on
the floor




Somebody get that woman a spell checker....

--- GoldED 2.41+
 * Origin: Occasional Fish (143:10613/1882)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #419 [700] - 418                    Rcv Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  05 Sep 94  21:08:14
 To   : Black Rose                                          12 Oct 94  13:27:10
 Subj : Moderator's Guidelines (revised revision) Part 1
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Black Rose did spiek to Gregh about Moderator's Guidelines (revised revision):

 BR> @TID: IMAIL 1.50a (Expired)

The poooor thing.  Shall we give it an obituary?

 G>> Someone give that new person in here a seat and a cup of used sump oil,
 G>> or failing that, coffee.  Looks like the link's up and running!

 BR> Somebody give this echo a cascade.

It was the day of the Lump.

At first I was unsure of the reason for my unease and general feeling of ill
health, but that lasted only until I caught a glimpse of my naked profile out of
the corner of one eye while passing the full-length mirror in the bedroom.

Now it is true that many people would never have glanced twice at themselves in
any mirror.  Once is an accident, twice is vanity.  Or, as in my case,
astonishment.  I couldn't believe my eyes.

The average person trusts their eyes.  `I'll believe it when I see it', they say
-- and apparently they are sincere at the time, though the eventuality often
demonstrates that the phrase is not to be taken too literally.  It's a sad world
where you cannot trust your own body parts.  There is no more certain fact than
that somewhere along the way one or another body part is going to let you down.
If it's the right one, your worries end right there.  Some people are
unfortunate and are let down by several parts over the course of the years,
which takes a lot of the fun out of it but does prolong the game a little.  As
the professional skydiver said, falling's the easy part; it's the stop at the
bottom that's tricky.  One should not endeavour to reach the bottom too soon.

It wasn't my bottom that caught my eye, however, but at first I couldn't quite
make out what the attraction really was.  Some previous tenant had cracked the
mirror and had rather feebly attempted to conceal the fact by painting a
spiderweb on the glass.  Where a chunk of glass had fallen out there was a
rubber tarantula, and as I paused to look at myself the tarantula got in the
way.  The spider was wearing a wig, scalped from the head of some innocent
Barbie doll.  The wig had been blonde when I moved into the place but during a
party some wag had crudely dyed it black by the application of a black indelible
marking pen.

It was the hairiest black tarantula I had ever seen.  The last time I had seen
hair that particular colour was the day my niece and I played `doctor'.  I'd
always suspected my red-headed sister played the field, and the opportunity to
closely examine the nether reaches of the offspring of my blonde brother-in-law
soon proved that the child had been dying her head from a very early age.
Somehow I'd never felt in a strong enough moral position to do anything about
this evidence of midday mischief, but I felt that the positions I took that day
were more than adequate compensation.  Whoever the mysterious donor might have
been, it was clear that their sperm carried more than a few Asian genes, and my
niece had demonstrated the uncanny gluteal flexibility possessed by so many
almond-eyed whores.  As I grunted my way to an astonishing third climax I'd had
real cause to regret the necessity for leaving town afterward.

It hadn't been my fault.  All I'd done was take a sauna in a mixed bathhouse a
couple of weeks before.  How was I to know what the couple who'd had the room
before me got up to?  Just for a moment my dick, drooping in the heat, had
touched the bench.  It had been enough.  The discharge had alerted me that very
morning and the doctor -- the real doctor -- had quickly confirmed my fears.  I
had been despondent after the visit, and my niece had innocently thought to
`cheer me up'.  I felt a little cheap about my method of repaying her kindness.

>>>Continued in the next one ...


-- Gregh

--- GoldED 2.41+
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)

─ [96] alt.dubious (143:10613/1429) ────────────────────────────────── VAP013M ─
 Msg  : #420 [700]                          Rcv Loc
 From : Gregh                               143:10613/1429  05 Sep 94  21:44:26
 To   : Black Rose                                          12 Oct 94  13:27:20
 Subj : Moderator's Guidelines (revised revision) Part 2
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So here I was standing before the mirror, gazing at a hairy black tarantula.

I moved the necessary six inches and examined the Lump.

Now you may not be concerned by the various lumps and bumps your body produces
over the years.  It is in the nature of the human body to be lumpy.  Everything
from moles and sebaceous cysts to arthritis and pimples and large boluses -- all
these things seem to cause visible lumps in the anatomy.  Some of these lumps
are temporary, some permanent, some painless, some decidedly not.  The only
thing they have in common is that they produce unsightly breaks in the would-be
smooth contours of the human skin.

I wasn't old, and I was always proud of the fact that I kept in shape.  Even
now, with a smelly yellow seep visible at the end of my dong, I was a fine
figure of a man, and not in the Cabellian sense either.  Apart from the finely
shaped lumps made by my ribs and my muscles and by that one annoying black mole
on my left buttock, I was all sleek efficiency and masculinity.  My nose was out
of true, admittedly, but I should've known better than to argue with a
blacksmith's son.  It could have been worse; he might have used the *horn* of
the anvil rather than the flat.  My lovers said the bend in my otherwise
acquiline proboscis gave my face character.  I would prefer more straightness
and less character but if you can't put up with our own looks, what can you put
up with?  Still, you must be expected to notice the unusual, and the Lump was
certainly unusual.  It moved.

We've all played that game with the bedclothes -- `camelius hump' was the name
for it in our family.  Someone gets beneath the blankets and everyone piles onto
them, trying -- but not too hard -- to keep them wrapped up and unable to
escape.  If you don't like the sibling currently under the blanket, the
opportunities for mayhem abound.

The commission of mayhem was one of the first things that occurred to me as I
saw the moving Lump.  Xenophobia is always close to the skin, and when it
*involves* mysterious things moving beneath the skin, is all too likely to
erupt.

I held myself in check, and pointedly did *not* hold the Lump.  But I watched
it, disbelieving my eyes, as it crawled slowly towards my groin.  I felt no
pain, and it left no mark behind it.  It was just a bluish-green Lump, a bump in
the flesh, moving slowly south.  When I concentrated I could feel the slight
distension of the skin as it passed.

When it reached my pubic bone it disappeared slowly, apparently moving behind
the bone.  Then there was a crawling sensation such as mothing I'd ever felt
before, as if a million rubber tarantulas were moving over my bladder. I felt a
sudden need to relieve myself, but I was still frozen in place, staring at the
point where the Lump had last been seen.

A tickling began at the top of my urethra, overpowering the tickle already put
there by the pox.  Still I resisted the urge to put my fingers near this
unpleasant visitor.

Gradually a feeling of distension encircled my penis and began to move down.
Blood pooled ahead of the obstruction, and gradually the poor mistreated member
came erect, throbbing uncomfortably the way it had when I was a young child and
had crawled beneath the wrong tentwall at a circus.

It was the midgets dressing room, and my wide adolescent eyes had almost fallen
out at the sight of those petite bodies, some no better equipped than my own but
some fully and even opulently formed, moving around in scanty undergarments --

*RING-RING*

`This is him.'

`This is your mother.'

`Oh.

`Hello, Person from Porlock.'


-- Gregh

--- GoldED 2.41+
 * Origin: 1001 uses for used Yak flakes. [phone] (143:10613/1429)