128 lines
8.5 KiB
Plaintext
128 lines
8.5 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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- Chocolate Lovin at McDonalds -
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Well, Wrath Master and I just returned from a trip to the local McDonalds.
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It was an eating experience we shall never forget. It started out normally
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enough.. we went up to the counter and I ordered my food. I ordered a chicken
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sandwich with cheese on it, just to fuck with the 12 year old guy there...
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I love watching their eyes light up and the expression on their face when
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they have no FUCKING clue how to send the order back to the kitchen. The
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kitchen quickly put a chicken w/cheese in the bin. Both Wrath Master and I
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(and everyone else that had ears) heard them call the sandwich out. But Johnny
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Pudwhacker (the stupid fuck that took the order) apparently was deaf. After a
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short interlude involving Johnny taking 5 or so orders, I pointed to the
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sandwich in the bin and asked if I could please have my food. He replied that
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he was waiting on a sandwich with cheese. Before I could explain to the
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moron that it was indeed my sandwich in the bin, a McMeeting was called in the
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kitchen to figure out what the fuck happened to my food. The cooks, who at
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this point realized the low intelligence level of the customer relations
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specialist that took my order, informed him (extremely slowly and gently so
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not to frighten him) that he was fucking blind as well as deaf. And indeed,
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it WAS my sandwich that now had a dark tan from sunbathing under the heat
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lamps. It took a few minutes for the newly acquired information to register
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in Johnny's brain, but he finally handed me my sandwich. At this point I
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thought the escapade ended... I was wrong.
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Wrath and I strolled over to the complimentary ketchup table. There we
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were greeted by a small inner-city negro child. Using the vernacular that was
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quite common among blacks in the area, the boy expressed that his lovely 300lb
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yard ape of a sister wished to obtain my telephone number. The quote from the
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large lipped boy was "Yo man, my sistah heah wants yo fone numbah, she say yo
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fly." I explained to the confused child that gravity prevented me from flying
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any long distances and that his sister was incorrect in her thesis. The boy
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replied "What cho talkin about? (Willis)" Wrath and I strategically planned
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our seating arrangements so as to be a good distance from the intellectual
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giant that we had just spoken with. However, to our dismay, the boy was
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trying to steal my wallet at the time. With his hand in my back pocket,
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I pulled him along to the table. The boy's attention quickly shifted to two
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sorrority sisters sitting nearby. The niglet quickly researched and
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developed a high-tech weapon using a straw and bits of chewed up paper. He
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then proceeded to bombard the women with a deluge of wet pulp. They became
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enraged at the future defendant and one of the females gently informed him
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to "Knock it the fuck off!" Being the strong-willed little negro he was, he
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respectfully requested his cousin's assistance in "beating them [the girls]
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up fo him." To his dismay, his large cousins declined his offer. Apparently
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they were deaf also, as I have never seen an inner-city negro turn down an
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opportunity to "Beat some ass." The sorrority sisters left the establishment
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and the boy's attention once again focused on me. He proceeded to interrogate
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(in the future something he will become quite accustomed to) me. His first
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question was "Yo, you gots a girlfriend?" In order to get the monkey off my
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back, I responded "I'm married." Being the observant little tar baby he be,
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he inquired as to the whereabouts of my wedding ring. I responded "It's at the
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cleaners." Being the overachiever and scholastically superior student that he
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was, he replied "oh," and accepted my fictitious tale as fact. As the child
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walked away, his 19 chromasome mother, sporting a delightful jerri-curl, swung
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on over to our table and posed a question to us. "What did dat boah jus sayh
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to yo?" I kindly replied to Aunt Jemimah, "He asked ifin I had a girlfriend."
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Relieved, she wiped her hairy brow and responded, "Oh, I done thought dat he
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said sumthin bad to ya." She and her negro stench then exited the area and
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once again I was able to smell my food. By this time, Wrath, who had been
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watching every action packed scenario unfold before his eyes, was laughing
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till tears streamed down his face. Just then we both realized how close
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Mcdonalds had come to being the site for an all out race-war.
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So what have we learned from this experience? Don't talk to strangers?
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Don't go to McDonalds? Never send your ring to be cleaned? Don't feed the
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monkeys? Never ask for cheese on a sandwich unless it is mentioned in the
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title? Always check the complimentary ketchup table for porch monkeys? I
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think we can sum it all up in one statement: When it is darker inside
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McDonalds than outside, don't even think of entering the building. You
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never know whatchu gona' git. As Forest Duke would say, "My Moma always
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told me McDonalds was like the Welfare office, it's always fulla niggas."
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- Shockwave and Wrath Master
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************************************************************************
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* DISCLAIMER *
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************************************************************************
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* - Our opinions are our own and don't reflect those of any of our *
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* associates or members of FUCK. *
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* - You are free to misinterpret my words however you please. *
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* - You are NOT free to diagnose my intent. *
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* - If you don't like my text, fuck off. Who asked you? *
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************************************************************************
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, etc etc... =
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= Internet : disorder@corrupt.sekurity.com -or- jericho@netcom.com =
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Chemical Persuasion 203.324.0894 Ionic Destruction 215.722.0570 =
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= Wulf's Den 303.699.WULF E.L.F. (NUP) 314.272.3426 =
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= Dungeon Sys. Inc. 410.263.2258 Celestial Woodlands 409.764.2843 =
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= Plan 9 716.881.3663 Logikal Nonsense 717.XXX.XXXX =
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= Purple Hell 806.791.0747 Deadly Intoxication 801.553.8644 =
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= PuRe EViL (NUP) 905.XXX.XXXX The Keg 914.234.9674 =
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= Misery 318.625.4532 =
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Files through Anonymous FTP: FTP.NETCOM.COM - cd /pub/illusion/fuck =
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= CORRUPT.SEKURITY.COM - cd /pub/zine/fuck =
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= ADS112.RH.PSU.EDU - cd /pub/magazines/fuck =
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
|
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|
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, etc etc... =
|
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|
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= Internet : disorder@corrupt.sekurity.com -or- jericho@netcom.com =
|
||
|
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Chemical Persuasion 203.324.0894 Ionic Destruction 215.722.0570 =
|
||
|
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= Wulf's Den 303.699.WULF E.L.F. (NUP) 314.272.3426 =
|
||
|
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= Dungeon Sys. Inc. 410.263.2258 Celestial Woodlands 409.764.2843 =
|
||
|
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= Plan 9 716.881.3663 Logikal Nonsense 717.XXX.XXXX =
|
||
|
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= Purple Hell 806.791.0747 Deadly Intoxication 801.553.8644 =
|
||
|
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= PuRe EViL (NUP) 905.XXX.XXXX The Keg 914.234.9674 =
|
||
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= Misery 318.625.4532 =
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Files through Anonymous FTP: FTP.NETCOM.COM - cd /pub/illusion/fuck =
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= CORRUPT.SEKURITY.COM - cd /pub/zine/fuck =
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||
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= ADS112.RH.PSU.EDU - cd /pub/magazines/fuck =
|
||
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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