1392 lines
70 KiB
Plaintext
1392 lines
70 KiB
Plaintext
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============================================================================
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_ ________/\______/\________/\
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_ ___ __ ________ ____|__ _
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| _ .| __|_ | .___ _
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=| :| : .| | :|=
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===| ___| :| : .|===
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=====:_____:__________:_________:cr===
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pEz monthly magazine % the best of rEd / pEz
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compiled by; black francis
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============================================================================
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============================================================================
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note; just so you know, i decided which rEd/pEz files should go in
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here by reader feedback that i've gotten over the past few months and i'm
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not just being egotistical. thank you, and go fuck yourself!
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[-----]
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:: the plot to kill good music ::
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:: by; black francis ::
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:: originally published in rEd #1 - 12/94 ::
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don't get me wrong. there is good music out there, but it's in
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serious need of some help. someone out there is trying to put a stop to
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good music and, damnit, whether i find out who it is or not, i'm dragging
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you along for the ride.
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as i sit in front of the keyboard, fingers coverEd with that strange
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powdery substance on doritos, and blasting the pixies, i can only thank the
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big man above for letting some decent groups slip through undetected. but,
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unfortunately, that is not the majority. one by one, decent groups are
|
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falling victim to this most odd fate. i didn't really bug me until one day
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i was sitting in math, doodling on my notebook, when i hear the chicky
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behind me whistling a strangely familiar tune. i have heard the song
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before, but for some reason, i couldn't put my finger on it. ok. that
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was it. i had to know what she was whistling, so i turned around and
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politely asked her, "what are you singing?"
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"green day." she said in her bimbo-ish tone of voice.
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"oh. ok. uhm.. what song?" i asked again.
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"uh.. green day." she replied. it looked to me like her head was
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about to explode from thinking too hard.
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"i know that. but what song? they have a lot of them, you know." i
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was just pushing it now. i could tell she was really thinking about it. i
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was afraid the sprinkler system was going to go off if she though about it
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any harder.
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"you know. green day.. by that group, basket case." she said. she
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looked extremely frustrated, so instead of torturing her for her stupidity,
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i simply chuckled and continued doodling.
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i guess it really hit me later while i was sitting at home feasting
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on a snickers bar and watching taz-mania (so i watch cartoons.. got a
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||
problem with that, sparky?) when my slightly younger (four year difference)
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sister comes skipping on through the front door singing basket case. i
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guess it only really botherEd me because i had caught her the day before
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singing "this dj" by warren dogg or whatever. now, this doesn't seem right
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to me. i guess i should let her listen to whatever she wants and go on with
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my life but, for some reason, i can't. i tossed around the idea of pulling
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her aside and bombarding her with green day trivia, but the nice guy in me
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took over. i silently went into my room and began to brainstorm.
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who's behind this?! i sat back and thought about how many people i
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had heard over the week discussing the upcoming nine inch nails concert and
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how good their seats were. now wait... hold on a second. i can remember
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the days when the only people who listened to nine inch nails were
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"headbangers!" what happened? now john and jane gap have pit tickets to
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the nin concert?! this must stop! now i was beginning to get pissed off.
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in hopes of calming myself, i flicked on the tube. while channel surfing,
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it hit me. mtv. mtv!! that's it! it's all their fault! they're the
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reason my little sister bought the new soundgarden album! damn them! after
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further research, it made perfectly good sense to me. i watched ol' mtv for
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a while (something i don't do often) and discoverEd their secret weapon for
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the death of good music! buzz clips! buzz clips and their little minions:
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alternative nation and 120 minutes! see, buzzclips are so evil because they
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take good music, put them at times when little kiddies and your average shmoe
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are watching, and play the hell out of them! a world where "nirvana" is a
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household name is a world i'd rather not live in. it's times like these
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that make me wish rap was popular again.
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now, i don't want to come off as saying something like, "i listened
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to these groups while they were still playing in the garage and only *i*
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should be able to listen to them!" because that's not what i'm saying at
|
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all. it's just that there's a shortage of good music already, yet now we
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have somebody trying to kill it by drilling it into everyone's head and
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making it become old and pass<73> before it really should. stuff like weezer
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should stay around forever because it's great music. when it becomes
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trendy, it becomes old fast and nobody wants it anymore... which means
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people like me who really appreciate it won't be able to hear anymore of it
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either. kinda like the smurfs. they were cool as shit for a while and
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then, next thing you know, everyone had a smurf! then, they just weren't
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cool anymore. damn, i miss the smurfs. same thing with those freakin'
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trolls, but i hate them anyway, so i don't give a shit. well, next thing
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you know, my favorite groups are gonna be the next smurfs.
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there's a major downfall to all this: we can't do anything about it!
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it's not like we can coerce mtv to stop playing it! well, not me. i try to
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keep my sister away from good music as much as i can. it may sound drastic,
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but c'mon.. she has the new boyz ii men album for crissakes. what makes you
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think i should lend her my dinosaur jr. albums just because she likes "feel
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the pain"?
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on a good note.. uhm.. uh.. nevermind. there isn't a good note. i
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guess we just have to see what happens. maybe some psychopathic reader will
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go down to ol' mtv hq and torch the place. <sigh>.. one can only hope
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(don't try that at home, kids). but, until then, i guess i'll just sit
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back, pop the new basket case album in my stereo, and relax.
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[-----]
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:: how to hack your way out of a paper bag ::
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:: by; black francis ::
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:: originally published in rEd #3 - 12/94 ::
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someone once told me, that i probably couldn't hack my way out of a
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paper bag. so, being the curious little booger i am, i tried it. trust me,
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it's not as hard as it sounds. first, make sure you have a paper bag handy.
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the easiest kinds to hack are the little tiny cutesy-wutesy lunch bags. the
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larger grocery bags are pretty hefty, and rather thick comparEd to the lunch
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bags. next, you want to make sure you have a knife. i also found out that
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if you have even an ounce of strength, you could probably hack one of those
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lunch bags with a plastic spoon.. but i think that's, like, for professional
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hackers. anyway, take the knife, and stick it in the bag. make sure you're
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still holding onto it - that's very important! finally, poke the sharp end
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of the knife through the bag, and thrash away. it's imperative that you use
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the sharp end. the end you hold onto is not as sharp, and it hurts your
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hand when you hold onto the sharp end. there, you've hacked your way out of
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a paper bag! congratulations!
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[-----]
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dear black francis;
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wake up! wake the fuck up! help me, i'm being kidnapped! wake up!
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you awake? haha, sorry, just kidding. it's nothing, really. no problem
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||
here.
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a car alarm
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right outside your apartment
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[-----]
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:: them damn mentos commercials! ::
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||
:: by; black francis ::
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:: originally published in rEd #3 - 12/94 ::
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ok, so it may seem like a pretty lame subject to write about, but i
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can't stand it anymore. every time i flick on the tube, it's another
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mind-numbing mentos commercial. but, for some reason, i don't change the
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channel. what attracts me to each and every dull-yet-fascinating episode
|
||
of these eurpoean beauties? they have the annoying yet irresistable charm
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||
of a b-52's video. personally, i think they use hypnotisim through
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||
subliminal messages, but that's just my theory.
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who are the geniuses who come up with these things? someone is
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getting paid a shitload of money to make these damn commercials. that would
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||
be the best job in the world. i could make up a mentos commercial in 5
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||
seconds, maybe even less, and some bozo is getting paid out his asshole to
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do it? ok, let's see. grab a stopwatch. ready? ......go!
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guy gets into an accident and gets out of the car and the person he
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hit is a lawyer and is going to sue him but then the guy who smacked into
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him pulls out a pack of mentos and everything is cool.
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ok. time? that could be a personal best, although, that basically
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||
is the plot of every mentos commercial. they just change the idea slightly
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for each one. which brings me to the whole idea of carrying a pack of
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mentos in case you ever get in some sort of trouble. i tried something,
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an experiment, if you will. i went to the 7-11 and bought some mentos.
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then, i placed them in my back pocket and continued the rest of the day as i
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normally would. here's how it went: (please kids, don't try this at home)
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i began the day by going to school as usual. once in school, i
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realized i had forgot to do my algebra homework. but, instead of rushing
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to do it, i decided to put my mentos into action for the first time. as the
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algebra teacher made his rounds, checking homework, i pryed the candies from
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my pocket. then, the big moment came;
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"justin, where's your homework?" he said.
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i don't have it, mr. appelbaum. but, i do have some.. mentos!" i
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said, and with blinding speed, i whooped out the mentos and flashed them in
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front of his face. he starEd at me blankly for a minute or so. the class
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seemed puzzled, almost. like i had just said something in a foreign
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language.
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"the freshmaker, mr. appelbaum!" i added. he still wouldn't budge.
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after standing in front of me for what seemed like an hour saying nothing,
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he then finally moved. he scribbled something down in his notebook, and
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then moved on. alright! it worked! whee! after wallowing in my own glory
|
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for the rest of the period, the bell rang and i was on my way out of the
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door, the teacher called me to his desk.
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"alright. here's your detention slip for not doing your homework
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today."
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once again, i shoved the mentos in his face.
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"what are you doing, justin?"
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then i broke into a gigantic phoney smile. i stuck the mentos ever
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closer to his face, he seemed to be getting edgy.
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"will you please get them out of my face?!" he said. then he started
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to write me a pass for some reason.
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"go to the office, mr. hottenstein will have more patience with you
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then i do." he said as he ripped the little yellow piece of paper from the
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pad and handed it to me. i put the mentos back into my pocket and continued
|
||
to the office. after waiting there while mr. hottenstein yelled and
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screamed at some other deliquent, i was called in. without saying anything,
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i pulled out the mentos and stuck them about one inch in front of his face.
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||
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in a matter of minutes i was home. out of school suspension. ok,
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maybe i was sticking the mentos too close to everyone's face, and they
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couldn't read the label. so, when my dad got home, i attempted the mentos
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trick again. after informing him i had a two day out of school suspension,
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i preparEd my mentos.
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"a two day out of school suspension? for *what*?" he screamed.
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without a word, i smiled, and showed him the mentos. it didn't work. i
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found myself grounded for a month, and not being able to go to the helmet
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concert. grr..
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then i thought maybe i was barking up the wrong tree, so-to-speak.
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maybe i should try the power of mentos elsewhere. you know, push them to
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their limit. give them a run for their money. so, later that night, i
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snuck out (it wasn't easy considering i have a third story aparment - ouch).
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so, to *really* test the power of mentos, i went out and robbed a 7-11.
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sounds a little extreme, but judging by some of these mentos commercials,
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they're pretty powerful. with my trusty rifle in hand, i walked into the
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7-11 and began to fire at everything, but sparEd the clerk because, hey, he
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sold me the mentos. i told him to call the police, and made sure he
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informed them that i had a high-powerEd rifle. not to much later, the
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police arrived. ahh.. here we go. i began randomly firing at the cops, and
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even took a few of them out. joyous day! when they began to get an
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itsy-bitsy too close to hitting me, i pulled the mentos out of my pocket and
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ran towards the police, dodging bullets the best that i could.
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"i got mentos!" i screamed, trying to talk over the rapid fire of the
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police.
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"look! mother fucking mentos!!" i screamed once again. i ducked
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behind a coca-cola display and took a few mentos out of the package, and
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began tossing them at the cops. i think i took out one or two, but it
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didn't hold them off for very long. i grasped the last of the mentos, and
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leaped up from the behind the display. i raised the mentos in the air like
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i was the statue of liberty. the cops stopped firing, and began to look at
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each other. just as i thought, it worked! it was just a matter of time.
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the adreniline was still pumping, but i knew it was all over. i started to
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walk towards the officers, mentos still in hand.
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"see? i have mentos. you can relax, boys." i sighed. the cops
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looked at me again and smiled.
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"the freshmaker." i heard one of them say. then, they their smiles
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turned to rather grim frowns. what? what was wrong, damnit?!
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"those aren't mentos, buddy. they're those cheap lance mento
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ripoffs!" one of them screamed. my heart jumped into my throat. no wonder
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they weren't working all day, they're not really mentos!
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next thing i knew, everything was moving in slow motion. the cops
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began firing at me, using all the firepower they had. they must have put
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holes in every part of my body. luckily, i lived, but i'm paralyzed from
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the neck down, and i'm typing this from the hospital by twitching my
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eyebrows. it takes me about a week to type a full sentence, and it hurts
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like a bitch. as for what i did at the 7-11, they let me off. when the
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police came to question me at the hospital, i had my friend run down to the
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hospital store and get me some real mentos. when they arrived at my room, i
|
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had mentos all over. bouquets made of mentos. mentos taped to the walls.
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mentos sewed to my sheets. i was even wearing a hospital gown made of
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mentos. needless to say, all charges were dropped, and i'm essentially a
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free man. well, judging by the immense pain in my eyebrows, it's time to
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take my medicine again. so, until next time, adios, and remember: be
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preparEd! - carry mentos wherever you go.
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[-----]
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:: teen angst for fun and profit! ::
|
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:: by; black francis ::
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:: originally published in rEd #6 - 1/95 ::
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ah well, i guess i'll have to take a break from writing my suicide
|
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letter to make this stupid article. i hate this article! i hate the world!
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i hate everything! hehe. boy, if i'm not a teenage stereotype waiting to
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happen.
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stereotypes, in general, are bad. they're even worse when they have
|
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to do with me. kind of like when you hear some stupid ass black comedian
|
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talk in their trademark white-person-voice. basically, that's what all
|
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black comedians make their living on.. white jokes. that's not a
|
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stereotype, either. it's been proven. here, play at home. watch an
|
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episode of def comedy whatever and see for yourself. i'd be willing to bet
|
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my sweet bippy that each and every comedian will make some sort of stupid
|
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joke about white people, and use the extremely unoriginal white person
|
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voice, which was startedby a very funny black comedian, eddie murphy. his
|
||
'bear and rabbit shitting in the woods' joke is quite possibly the funniest
|
||
thing i've ever heard in my entire life. i swear i pissed myself when i
|
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heard it for the first time. maybe, just maybe, they would be funny, or at
|
||
least remotely funny, if the jokes weren't so damn lame.
|
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"(in white person voice) hi, i'm white! let's go out and beat rodney
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king!"
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"(in white person voice) hi, i'm white! i hate them niggers!"
|
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"(in white person voice) hi, i'm white! my ass is so small!
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hahaha!"
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you get the point. what i'm leading up to is, essentially,
|
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everything is a huge stereotype. for example, my school is nothing but a
|
||
giant stereotype. the jocks are dumb as mud. the blacks are straight out
|
||
of the latest n.w.a album. the preps squeak when they walk. the skaters
|
||
walk around carrying their skateboards so you know that they're skaters.
|
||
the wiggers.. well.. the wiggers are wiggers. unfortunately, out of
|
||
everyone that could possibly be stereotyped, teenagers get the worst rap.
|
||
we're protrayed by the press and our elders as depressed, violent,
|
||
back-talking, know-it-all, disrespectful little brats. i hate to say it,
|
||
but behind every stereotype, is a very good amount of truth. but if you
|
||
really think about it, mostly everyone, no matter what their age is, is most
|
||
of those. like, what the hell is wrong with the mailmen nowadays? what
|
||
kind of pressure are these people under at work that would make them go to
|
||
work with a large enough arsenal to take out a small mid-eastern country?
|
||
it's not like they're in any hurry or anything.
|
||
|
||
"bob, could you possibly have this letter deliverEd by next year?"
|
||
|
||
"that's it, man! (pulls out ak-47 and kills everyone in sight)"
|
||
|
||
how come ups delivery men don't go nuts? what about my little
|
||
paperboy? i'm afraid of the little 12 year old bastard now. i tip him $20
|
||
every time he comes collecting so when it's his turn to go on his little
|
||
rampage, maybe he'll spare me. i know he's carrying some kind of firearm in
|
||
that little basket on the front of his bike. you can never be too careful.
|
||
what about the pizza delivery guy? sends a chill down my spine just
|
||
thinking about it.
|
||
|
||
teenagers aren't a violent species. there are just a few assholes
|
||
out there who think they're tough guys and feel they have to prove it
|
||
everyone. most of the time they're poor urban youths, who basically have
|
||
nothing else to live for. that's still no excuse to go out and do some of
|
||
the things that i've been hearing about lately. but violent is definitely
|
||
not the worst teenage stereotype. it has to be the whole idea that we're
|
||
all depressed suicidal morons lead by an even bigger moron, kurt cobain.
|
||
since when did i elect him to be my offical spokesman?
|
||
|
||
"i want to eat your cancer when you turn black."
|
||
|
||
yeah, man, that's exactly what i was thinking. wow, man, you express
|
||
my pain sooo well. fuck that. i don't need some stupid ass as my official
|
||
spokesperson. i don't need a spokesperson. spokespeople are for
|
||
celebrities who are too damn stupid to speak for themselves. that's why
|
||
micheal jackson has so many of them, because he's a fucking idiot. could
|
||
you imagine what kind of bind he would get himself into if he spoke for
|
||
himself?
|
||
|
||
"excuse me, mr. jackson, when are you going to release your greatest
|
||
hits album?"
|
||
|
||
"as soon as i get done grabbing some little boys ass. next
|
||
question."
|
||
|
||
it would be a disaster. so, i'm assuming the press thinks we're too
|
||
stupid to speak for ourselves, so we have to get some inane singer to do it
|
||
for us. no thank you. if i want to make myself look like an idiot, i'll do
|
||
it by myself. we as teens don't help this stereotype at all. this is for a
|
||
number of reasons.
|
||
|
||
number one -- suicide. suicide is the number one killer among teens,
|
||
and why? what kind of moronic way of solving your "problems" is that? you
|
||
don't have problems, dope. people in bosnia, now *they* have problems. my
|
||
foot weighs more than 95% of the population in bosnia, and you're bitching
|
||
because you've been dumped by your girlfriend? that's pathetic. by the
|
||
time you're 30, fat, bald, and married with three kids, you won't even
|
||
remember her! it's ridiculous. i've never once done anything even
|
||
semi-drastic for a girl, and i never would. i'm still a kid, there's no
|
||
need to make a comittment now. i know people who have never even had a
|
||
girlfriend, and they've been fine (ok, maybe they spank it a little too
|
||
much, but hey, at least they're alive). to me, suicide is very selfish.
|
||
the whole point of killing yourself is;
|
||
|
||
"yeah! they'll be sorry when i'm dead! boy, am i smart."
|
||
|
||
i, for one, don't feel sorry for any idiot who's stupid enough to
|
||
take his own life. you don't leave behind any of the feelings you think
|
||
you're leaving behind when you kill yourself, trust me. no guilt. no pity.
|
||
no anger. no self-loathing. just a bunch of stupid jokes. mr. cobain, for
|
||
example. thanks to him, i have to hear a bunch of stupid new jokes every
|
||
day. thanks, i really appreciate it.
|
||
|
||
"what color were kurt cobain's eyes? blue. one blue this way, one
|
||
blue the other way." ha ha. really fuckin' funny. i'm going to have to
|
||
hear this for another year or so because you couldn't live with the simple
|
||
fact that you were making a shitload of money. hey! if it's that tough to
|
||
be rich and famous, why not give your money to me? spanked ass.
|
||
|
||
number two -- poetry and weird assholes in general. you know that
|
||
chick in school who dresses in all black and hangs around the art room all
|
||
day? next time you see her, thank her. thank her for being an idiot and
|
||
giving us all a bad name. yeah, you know the one with the black fingernails
|
||
and doc martens. she's our generations next spokesperson. her and her
|
||
fucking "art", if you can even come to call it that. it's not so much the
|
||
paintings of dead babies stapled to walls or whatever she's painting, it's
|
||
the poetry. it's the trademark of the depressed teenager stereotype. i've
|
||
seen good poetry, and i've seen bad poetry. personally, i don't care much
|
||
for it, and i could never bring myself to write it, but i must give crEdit
|
||
where crEdit is due. i see it happen all the time. they sit it study hall
|
||
with their little welcome back, kotter! lunchbox or whatever, and fill up
|
||
pages and pages of notebooks with poetry. yeah, looks real hard, too. i
|
||
could make a better poem then that.. uh.. right now.
|
||
|
||
birth
|
||
then
|
||
pain
|
||
then
|
||
hurt
|
||
then
|
||
tears
|
||
then
|
||
pain
|
||
then
|
||
hurt
|
||
then
|
||
death
|
||
then
|
||
eat
|
||
at
|
||
joe's
|
||
|
||
there. what do you think? this is easy.
|
||
|
||
i am hurt. i feel pain. why must you do this to me? why must you
|
||
hurt me like you do? god, i hate paper cuts.
|
||
|
||
i could do this all day. it's not tough. the worst are the
|
||
suicide poems. what the hell are they all about? if that isn't the most
|
||
psychotic thing to write about, i don't know what is. masturbating to
|
||
pictures of ferrets comes close, but it's not the same.
|
||
|
||
i load the gun. i cry. i cock the hammer. i cry. i point the cold
|
||
steel barrel to my head. i cry. i pull the trigger. shit, i missed. boy
|
||
will my mom be pissed when she sees what i did to the wall. i cry.
|
||
|
||
this has to stop. not only does it make us, as teenagers in general,
|
||
look bad, but it makes you look like a total fucking moron. wash the black
|
||
dye out of your hair, go out and buy some normal clothes, shut the hell up,
|
||
and take a good look at yourself and everything around you. see how good
|
||
you really have it. yeah, spit out the 50 or so advil you have stuffed in
|
||
your mouth and think about it a little bit before you take the easy way out
|
||
and contribute to the negative stereotype we're already burdened with.
|
||
maybe your doc's are laced a little to tight there, sparky. no matter how
|
||
bad you think you have it, someone has it ten times worse. for every
|
||
girlfriend that's dumped you, someone's a lot older and uglier than you has
|
||
been dumped 10 times. for every time your parents have yelled at you,
|
||
someone across the globe is getting their ass kicked for no good reason.
|
||
for every pimple on your face, someone else has 10 on their ass that hurt
|
||
like a bitch when they sit down. see where i'm going with this? ever see
|
||
"heathers"? remember martha dumptruck? you could be *her*, for crissakes!
|
||
get over the whole depressed "i have it soooo bad" act and you'll find that
|
||
life is a lot more enjoyable. get out more. have fun. get drunk. piss on
|
||
snails and watch them melt. life is a lot more fun when you're not sitting
|
||
at home being depressed. try it sometime.
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
:: you're a pathetic loser ::
|
||
:: by; black francis ::
|
||
:: originally published in rEd #12 - 1/95 ::
|
||
|
||
speaking of losers, here are some quotes from people who's loserific
|
||
lives _haven't_ been changed by rEd!
|
||
|
||
"black francis is a lamer."
|
||
- wicked illusion
|
||
|
||
"black francis is asshole of the year! blacklist this lamer!"
|
||
- a-ko
|
||
|
||
"i'd crash his board, but it's ld! he deserves it!"
|
||
- agent orange
|
||
|
||
"jeremy, you forgot your gobots lunchbox! can't go to school without
|
||
it!"
|
||
- wicked illusion's mom
|
||
|
||
"time for your spanking, jeremy, you stupid little bastard!"
|
||
- wicked illusion's dad
|
||
|
||
""
|
||
- wicked illusion's girlfriend (hands can't talk, stupid)
|
||
|
||
"i am a lamer."
|
||
- black francis
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
you're a pathetic loser and you know it. admiting it is the first
|
||
step on the road to recovery, boy! this file is just *proof* that you're a
|
||
loser! think about it, won't you? you spend your hours with your fat ass
|
||
glued to this seat, eyes focused in on the screen, and you're wittle
|
||
itty-bitty arthritis-waitin'-to-happen fingers tappin' away on your extended
|
||
101 key ibm keyboard! whee! if you weren't a loser, you'd be out right
|
||
about now, most likely getting plasterEd. you know. shitfaced. but
|
||
nooooo! maybe drinking isn't your style. maybe you'd be the fearless
|
||
leader of yet another circle-jerk, instead focusing your beady little eyes
|
||
on a seven year-old copy of hustler you found under your dad's bed. but
|
||
that's ok. different strokes for different folks. er, no pun intended.
|
||
really.
|
||
|
||
i know what you're mumbling. i've just insulted myself pretty bad,
|
||
eh? i must be king loser if i make stupid text files. well, ok, i'll
|
||
admit. you're half right. i'm one of those people with lots of friends,
|
||
but no social life. then again, i feel that, if i'm going to go out and do
|
||
stupid shit, i may as well sit at home and make these stupid text files. i
|
||
will go out twice or three times a week for good measure, but i spend most
|
||
of my hours in front of the computer. sometimes, when i _do_ go out, it's
|
||
to visit other computer geeks. as sad as it is, it's true. but they're
|
||
nice people and i can relate to them. so why not? anyway, to me, computers
|
||
are a hidden pleasure almost. none of my friends know about it. i try to
|
||
hide it as much as i can. it's very tempting, but when i hear someone shout
|
||
out a question about computers, i become edgey, and must refrain from
|
||
answering. enough about me, we're here for you, dork.
|
||
|
||
i'm not going to sit here for the rest of this file and insult you.
|
||
while that would most likely be pretty funny, it would be too damn easy.
|
||
instead, i'm going to be kind for once and attempt to help out a wee bit.
|
||
i'm going to give you some fairly simple suggestions on how to lively up
|
||
your social life. most of these are tried, tested, and true methods.
|
||
that's most, deary. so, if one backfires, save your whining for someone who
|
||
gives a shit.
|
||
|
||
1) get a car. get a car and soon enough you'll be the talk of the
|
||
town! you'll be taxing your loser friends all over the damned place! this
|
||
is _bound_ to work, but, it'll cost you an arm and a leg. are you _that_
|
||
desperate for friends? if so, this is your ticket to popularity right here.
|
||
it's a sure-fire way to get chicks, too. just be careful, some cars can
|
||
make you even more of a loser. cars to look out for: (a) cars from
|
||
countries that don't even exist anymore. (b) cars with less than four
|
||
wheels. (c) cars endorsed by ex-porn stars. (d) cars bought for less than
|
||
$250. (e) cars bought solely on how much room they have in the backseat.
|
||
|
||
2) get lots of tatoos. i have a few myself. now, either everyone
|
||
will flock to you like you're the messiah and gawk at you in sheer amazement
|
||
for days upon end, or they'll be scarEd of you, which is also a good thing.
|
||
try to steer away from the gaudy, or corny, tatoos. stuff like a heart with
|
||
"mom" written in it just doesn't cut it, man. i personally like tribal art,
|
||
but, if that just doesn't float your boat, try something like cartoon
|
||
characters. another one to stay away from is anything naked. naked women
|
||
adorning your chest may seem cool for a while, but when you're a loser, and
|
||
not getting any in the first place, why bother? it also looks real stupid
|
||
when you get older. naked men aren't very good, either. if i even have to
|
||
explain why, you should just kill yourself now and get it over with. stop
|
||
breathing my valueable air and get it over with, pink boy. and, hey, if the
|
||
tatoos don't work, get a lot more and join a freak show. zany hi-jinx
|
||
ensue!
|
||
|
||
3) start a shitty t-file group! the chicks will be on you like white
|
||
on rice, baby!
|
||
|
||
4) kill someone. yeah, seems a little harsh, but, if all else fails
|
||
you have nothing to lose. you'll become a strange, mysterious, dark, scary
|
||
wonder and everyone will want to be your friend just so they know a rebel
|
||
such as yourself. now, if you want to take it one step further, try mass
|
||
murder! hell, even when you're in jail you'll be popular. charlie manson
|
||
gets tons of fan mail.
|
||
|
||
5) kill yourself. kurt cobain is alive - he's a loser. kurt cobain
|
||
is dead - he sells millions of records. nuff said.
|
||
|
||
6) become "alternative". buy a skateboard and carry it around with
|
||
you at school so that everyone knows just how damn alternative you are!
|
||
wear lots of plaid flannel shirts, ripped jeans, and nirvana t-shirts.
|
||
everyone will want to be friends with the "alternative" guy! listen to
|
||
bands nobody has ever heard before, even if you don't like them. make up
|
||
bands if you have to.
|
||
example (1):
|
||
someone else - "who's your favorite band?"
|
||
you - "the rotten cabbage farmers."
|
||
someone else - "wow! can i be your friend?"
|
||
|
||
7) be stupid. some of you may already be two steps ahead of me here,
|
||
so just bear with me. nobody likes smart people. face it. with this one,
|
||
you'll have to be careful, though. if you act *too* stupid, they may put
|
||
you in special education, and we all know what happens to special ed. kids,
|
||
right? yeah, they're the ones who get pantsed in gym. just be moderately
|
||
stupid. remember - less is more.
|
||
|
||
8) shop at the gap. clothes make the man, my friend. all the
|
||
popular kids shop there, so why shouldn't you? dress as preppy as you
|
||
possibly can. it's sickening, but yet, it works.
|
||
|
||
9) come to school naked. you'll be a trendsetter.
|
||
|
||
10) hang out with rEd guys! yowza! they're virtual chick-magnets,
|
||
and if you're seen with them, it can lead to nothing but good things! even
|
||
the mention of rEd members make chicks wet between the legs!
|
||
example (1):
|
||
chick - "hey, loser."
|
||
you - "black francis is my friend."
|
||
chick - "ooooo baby! i want you *now!*"
|
||
|
||
well there you go. ten suggestions to help you be the big popular
|
||
fuck you've always wanted to be. and remember, when you're in bed with the
|
||
leader of the cheerleading squad, you owe it all to me. now, go hide the
|
||
hustler back under your dads bed, get to the mall, and go hang out or
|
||
something. this has been a shareware text file, if you read it, send me
|
||
lots of money.
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
:: how to break stuff ::
|
||
:: by; intestinal scum-monkey ::
|
||
:: originally published in rEd #14 - 1/95 ::
|
||
|
||
well, it seems that all you rad doodz out there like anarchy, or,
|
||
your little version of anarchy. you know. breaking stuff, etc. well, i
|
||
recently found out that most of you like to read anarchy text files, so i
|
||
decided to join in and jump on the bandwagon. so, in this file, i'm going
|
||
to teach you how to break stuff. this is for the beginner anarchist. for
|
||
you more advanced kids, i suggest, "how to smash stuff". let's get
|
||
started.
|
||
|
||
i started breaking stuff when i was about two. i broke lots of
|
||
stuff. so, if i can break stuff at age two, i'm sure you can do it now.
|
||
am i right?
|
||
|
||
you can benefit from breaking stuff in a few ways. number one,
|
||
breaking stuff is fun. a lot of fun. number two, breaking stuff is an easy
|
||
way to get your point across. example - "hey! give me money or i'll break
|
||
some of your stuff!" or "you don't believe me? fine! i'll break some of
|
||
your stuff then." another way you can benefit from breaking stuff, is, you
|
||
can show the world what a cool anarchist you are! you can hold people
|
||
hostage and threaten to break large amounts of stuff if the government
|
||
doesn't fulfill your wishes!
|
||
|
||
think of it - a nice island home, a fast car, women, etc. all given
|
||
to you by the government just because you threatened to break stuff! wow!
|
||
what a deal!
|
||
|
||
now, i bet you're saying to yourself, "c'mon man! enough of this
|
||
stupid bullshit! tell me how to break stuff!" well, there are a few more
|
||
things i should go over before we get to the stuff breaking. first off,
|
||
safety! you wouldn't want to hurt yourself while breaking stuff, now would
|
||
you? that's what i thought. so, pay close attention, bunghole;
|
||
|
||
stuff-breaking safety : don't break anything that may harm you, and
|
||
if you do, wear special protective stuff. like safety glasses. for
|
||
example, stuff that would harm you would be glass and things like that.
|
||
|
||
don't break other people. this could really piss someone off. let's
|
||
say, they're just walking down the street and you walk right up to them and
|
||
break their leg. i'm sure they wouldn't like that very much.
|
||
|
||
don't break yourself. it hurts, and, it makes you look like an
|
||
idiot.
|
||
|
||
that's about it. then again, you are a kewl anarchist, so why should
|
||
you worry about getting hurt? that's half the fun, spunky! okok, now i'm
|
||
getting to the good stuff, hold your horses. next, you'll have to worry
|
||
about how to break stuff and get away with it. you wouldn't wanna break
|
||
stuff and then go and get yourself caught, would ya? nah. that's what i
|
||
thought. here are some simple suggestions;
|
||
|
||
wear dark clothes. they can't catch your white ass if they can't see
|
||
it. catch my drift?
|
||
|
||
break stuff, and then blame it on other people. yeeaahh! especially
|
||
if the other person is a miscreant to begin with. like, uhm.. hm.. you're
|
||
little brother. blame it all on him. little brothers are good for that.
|
||
break away, mi amigos!
|
||
|
||
break stuff somewhere and then leave. brilliant, eh? i'm a bloomin'
|
||
genius, i tell you! like, here's an example. go to someone's house, break
|
||
some valueable stuff, and then leave! wow! they'll never snag you! if
|
||
they ever accuse you, act shocked for one, and say something along the lines
|
||
of;
|
||
"no, i didn't break your stuff. i left before stuff was broken."
|
||
it's garaunteed to work.
|
||
|
||
i'm sure since you're a kewl anarchist, you can think up other stuff
|
||
to do to get away scott-free. remember, they were just examples!
|
||
|
||
now, the part you've all been waiting for! how to break stuff!
|
||
ya-hoo! you're on your way to becoming a full-fledged anarchist! remember,
|
||
the contents of this article are for informational purposes only! i am not
|
||
to be held responsible for anything stupid you may try to do. remember :
|
||
you should not attempt breaking stuff!
|
||
|
||
|
||
(drum-roll begins here)
|
||
|
||
intestinal scum-monkey in association with really elite doodz proudly
|
||
presents.. a division of stuff-breakers inc... how to break stuff!
|
||
|
||
(end drum-roll here)
|
||
|
||
1) the floor. the floor is a great way to break stuff! throw stuff
|
||
on the floor and it will (most likely) break! wow. modern technology
|
||
dazzles me.
|
||
|
||
downfall : it makes a mess. broken stuff usually does, though, so
|
||
get used to it.
|
||
|
||
2) the wall. this takes a little more effort than the floor. you
|
||
have to actually throw the object to break it, where with the floor, you
|
||
simply have to drop it.
|
||
|
||
downfall : marks up your wall, and when it does fall, also makes a
|
||
mess. but, if it's not your stuff, or someone elses wall, then you have no
|
||
reason to worry! you nasty anarchist, you!
|
||
|
||
3) your fist. it's a novel idea. break stuff with your fist. this
|
||
requires more energy than the above mentioned, unless, of course, you're
|
||
throwing something really huge at the wall. here's a small variation on the
|
||
idea.. use your feet. this one's a little easier, so you amatuer anarchists
|
||
may want to try this one first.
|
||
|
||
downfall : this one could get very messy, with all the blood,
|
||
scrapes, bruises, etc. if you lose enough blood, you may even pass out.
|
||
this makes you open to arrest! bad anarchist! bad!
|
||
|
||
4) this is for all you anarchists who may want to take breaking
|
||
stuff to a new level, or, you're just too damn weak to do any of the other
|
||
things. heavy machinery. heavy machinery breaks stuff with extreme ease.
|
||
try a bulldozer or just even a simple tow truck. if you want to go for the
|
||
extreme, use a wrecking ball. they can break lots of stuff. lots of stuff
|
||
at once, nonetheless.
|
||
|
||
downfall : heavy machinery is tough to get. uhm. that's about it,
|
||
really. oh yeah, if you don't know how to operate it, that can be a real
|
||
damper on your parade, too.
|
||
|
||
5) large explosives. this is the ultimate. large amounts of stuff
|
||
in a very short amount of time. major stuff-breaking abound.
|
||
|
||
downfall : they're explosives, idiot. figure it out for yourself.
|
||
|
||
6) your butt-cheeks. butt-cheeks are extremely powerful and
|
||
underrated.
|
||
|
||
downfall : breaking glass stuff with your butt hurts like a bitch.
|
||
|
||
there you go. now you're a bonafied anarchist rather than a budding
|
||
amatuer! take what i told you and run with it. have fun. go nuts. get
|
||
sooper-dooper crazy wacky silly! all thanks to me.
|
||
|
||
just make sure you remember what i told you, this file is for
|
||
educational purposes only! you should not go around breaking stuff just for
|
||
the hell of it or just because it's a whole lot of fun.
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
:: the really elite experiment ::
|
||
:: by; black francis ::
|
||
:: originally published in rEd #17 - 2/95 ::
|
||
|
||
you know, as if the computer world isn't becoming lame enough, we
|
||
have more assholes coast to coast starting e-mags. there must be at least
|
||
15,000 of them in the tri-state area alone. i'm got going to go into which
|
||
ones are lame and which ones aren't, because, frankly, that would be lame.
|
||
instead, i'm going to try a little experiment. this experiment was done
|
||
under close supervision to make sure that i did not, in any way, shape, or
|
||
form, 'fiddle' with or alter the test results. i do not have a degree
|
||
(hell, i didn't even graduate yet), and i do not have official permission to
|
||
perform this caliber of experiment, but, i figurEd it was worth the risk.
|
||
this topic is too important to be thrown on the back burner while i wait for
|
||
written consent to perform this experiment. i figurEd this was the best way
|
||
to figure out wether or not anybody could start their own e-mag. i used
|
||
monkeys. five monkeys.
|
||
|
||
i rented the monkeys from the philadelphia zoo for a small price and
|
||
brought them to my home. bongo, koko, wiener, chumpie, and stinky were at
|
||
first hesitant to go with me. who could blame them? for all they knew, i
|
||
could be a monkeyphile. once to my house, i showerEd the monkeys, and
|
||
showed them to the guest bedroom. inside the bedroom was a bed and a
|
||
computer. that was all that they needed. my hypothesis was that given ten
|
||
days, five monkeys could start an e-mag and publish at least one issue.
|
||
here is the log as it was scribbled into my notebook:
|
||
|
||
day one - spent most of the day helping the monkeys with dos. bongo
|
||
almost formatted the hard drive. what a lamer. once i showed them the
|
||
basics, they had no problems and they were on their way. as a matter of
|
||
fact, chumpie found out how to free more conventional memory for me. wow.
|
||
|
||
day two - the monkeys have decided upon a name for their e-mag. to
|
||
me, it seems as if they were going in the wrong direction, and taking up too
|
||
much time thinking of the name. these monkeys will >never< finish this
|
||
e-mag! i guess not just anyone can write an e-mag.
|
||
|
||
day three - the monkeys have made a really cool logo and a few nice
|
||
ansis for their mag, but have not yet began to write. unbeknownst to me,
|
||
koko is a member of acid.
|
||
|
||
day four - the monkeys have began writing their e-mag. i asked for a
|
||
print-out of what they have so far, and this is what they gave to me:
|
||
|
||
pih3;p 23-913 3rs;lmo930 03197rlisdn.zx j;ojosqjopsqjpiasjli
|
||
deew8023479502397509725111== r= qo-asqjo 08038;asfjldfhf/zxc/
|
||
|
||
it seems that the monkeys are just pounding on the keyboard. i told
|
||
them that maybe they should try to find a more definite direction with their
|
||
writing. the monkeys agreed with me and decided to start again from scratch.
|
||
|
||
day five - their time is half over and so far, they've only come up
|
||
with a logo and brainstormed a wee bit. i'm hoping that the monkeys can
|
||
pull it off so that my point is proven, but the monkeys may make me come off
|
||
as a blubbering idiot.
|
||
|
||
they spent most of their time today brainstorming more. really
|
||
putting their noses to the grindstone and trying to come up with a solid
|
||
idea on what they could write about. ideas were tossed around. bongo wanted
|
||
to write on the mistreatment of animals in menial zoos, while koko wanted to
|
||
write an article on lamers. weiner wanted to write a file on how to make a
|
||
new and improved ansi bomb. chumpie wanted to write a lyrical compilation.
|
||
stinky pooped on the carpet.
|
||
|
||
day six - the monkeys decided on an idea - but refused to tell me. i
|
||
can tell that they're starting to get serious. the monkeys really buckled
|
||
down and began to write instead of talking and eating bugs off of each
|
||
others backs. however, they soon ran into problems. as much as i wanted
|
||
to, i could not intervine. bongo ate the mouse. they soon figurEd their
|
||
way around it and soon began to get back to work. the mouse-incident ate
|
||
about a few hours of their time, and the monkeys must now work harder than
|
||
ever.
|
||
|
||
day seven - koko and chumpie got into an arguement today over the
|
||
intellectual values of their e-mag. after a very heated debate, chumpie
|
||
called koko a lamer and chumpie broke off from the rest of the group to
|
||
start his own e-mag.
|
||
|
||
day eight - the monkeys slept and swang on my curtains all day.
|
||
|
||
day nine - one day before the end of the experiment. chumpie has
|
||
rejoined the group. as far as i could tell, given everything that has
|
||
happened so far, they had still made good progress. i'm very anxious to see the
|
||
results.
|
||
|
||
day ten - the big day. the monkeys submitted their first issue of
|
||
pAl to me (primatez againzt lamerz). i was impressed. they had each
|
||
written an article and released it in a magazine format. a group effort.
|
||
bongo had written about "backdoors in vision-x", koko had written about
|
||
"ways to get free stuff from zookeepers, wiener had written about "fun on
|
||
tire swings", chumpie had written about "h/p/a/v/c and lamers", and stinky
|
||
had written about "interesting things to do with encrusted fecal matter."
|
||
it was high-quailty material. my experiment was a sucess. indeed, _anyone_
|
||
can start an e-mag.
|
||
|
||
the monkeys soon released their first issue all over. they now have
|
||
over 25 distro. sites in the east _alone_. the assigned a whq position, and
|
||
hirEd a few couriers to take care of delivering the newest releases. koko
|
||
is now serving time in a county jail for carding 100 pounds of bananas
|
||
(onlee a lamer monkey would get caught!).
|
||
|
||
stinky now writes for rEd.
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
:: phun at the zoo ::
|
||
:: by; stinky ::
|
||
:: originally published in rEd #18 - 2/95 ::
|
||
|
||
hello! wow! i'm so excited! this is my first article that i've
|
||
written for rEd. i also write for an e-mag that i helped found, pAl
|
||
(primatez againzt lamerz). you may have not heard of us yet, but you will
|
||
soon! we have the best damn ansi bombs around! anyway, me writing for rEd
|
||
is a milestone for both i, and for rEd, since i am their first writer who is
|
||
also a monkey.
|
||
|
||
anyway, i've decided in the fun spirit of other rEd articles, to go
|
||
for one of those "fun-at-soandso" articles that tell you fun ways to pass
|
||
the time while out on the town. this one, i don't think anyone has ever
|
||
touched before. how to have fun at the zoo. being a monkey, i've spent a
|
||
lot of time at the zoo, and i know how boring it can be. trust me! here
|
||
are some fun ways, a k00l anarkuzt like you can pass the time.
|
||
|
||
let's face it - the zoo can be a terribly boring place to be.
|
||
especially when you're a monkey. now, those damn polar bears, they get to
|
||
swim around and shit. what do we get? a fucking tire tied to the roof with
|
||
a cheap-ass rope and some hay. then some fuck-head monkey takes the hay and
|
||
throws it at me. they know i'm allergic to it! >or<, some asshole monkey
|
||
takes the straw, puts it in his mouth like he's a goddamned farmer, and all
|
||
the tourists all go, "awwwwww!" at once. god, that's annoying. then.. then
|
||
there's the pictures! what the fuck do you people have in those flashes?
|
||
flood lights?! assholes! oh. i'm ranting. sorry. it's just not that
|
||
much fun at the zoo, if you catch my drift.
|
||
|
||
keep in mind i'm not responsible for the outcomes of the following
|
||
suggestions. if they go awry, it's all your fault!
|
||
|
||
oh yeah. in case you didn't know, this is fun stuff to do while
|
||
you're in captivity at the zoo. not just visiting. sorry for the
|
||
confusion!
|
||
|
||
side note : red boxes do >not< work on the zoo key boxes! repeat ::
|
||
rEd boxes do >not< work on the zoo key boxes!
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
[1] gnaw away at the rope holding up the tire swing the the chimpazee
|
||
tire swing. eventually, while one of those damn chimps are swingin' away on
|
||
the thing, it'll snap!
|
||
|
||
[2] while there's a particularly large group of people standing
|
||
around your cage watching you, stick your finger up your ass, pull it out,
|
||
and eat it! the more caked with your own shit it is - the better!
|
||
|
||
[3] steal the zookeepers keys! this can be a whole lot of phun, so,
|
||
i've breaken it down into sub-ideas.
|
||
(a) when the zookeeper isn't looking, have all your friends run out
|
||
of the cage, then, lock him in!
|
||
(b) hide them! just the general look of confusion on their faces can
|
||
make you wet yourself. i've done it myself. then again, i am a monkey.
|
||
(c) let the bears and lions out to eat the visitors at the zoo!
|
||
(d) let out all the snakes and have snake fights! bet money!
|
||
(e) steal a wombat and let it loose in the gift shop! fun-eee!
|
||
(f) go to where everyone's waiting in line to get on the trolley,
|
||
hold the key up into the air, jump up and down and scream;
|
||
"hey! i'm a crazy monkey and i have a key! look at me dance! yeah!
|
||
i'm a crazy key-holdin' monkey who's dancing around like a crazy monkey!
|
||
i'm crazy, and i got a key! look at me dance! cra-zeee!"
|
||
|
||
[4] spot an unexpecting visitor (preferably someone who's old,
|
||
stupid, or just plain ol' out of it) and gouge them in the eye with the key!
|
||
tee hee!
|
||
|
||
[5] one word - feces!
|
||
|
||
[6] start an e-mag!
|
||
|
||
[7] radomly punch visitors and blame it on the sloths in the next
|
||
cage. they'll believe you, too! hey! dumb fuck-head! sloths are slow as
|
||
shit, they can't do it! you goddamned moron!
|
||
|
||
[8] hack into the salad bar at the food court!
|
||
|
||
[9] order a dozen pizzas to the laughing hyenas. they won't think
|
||
it's so fuckin' funny when they have to pay for 35 anchovy pizzas.
|
||
|
||
[10] start humping the shit out of the other monkeys in the cage.
|
||
make sure there are a lot of people watching, or it just isn't funny.
|
||
|
||
[11] get out to the pay phones, call the operator, and start making
|
||
monkey noises. then, when they say,
|
||
"excuse me, sir, are you a monkey?" sound offended and say,
|
||
"i am not a monkey!" and hang up. ha ha! fun-eee!
|
||
|
||
[12] make mentos commercials.
|
||
|
||
[13] find out what's in spam.
|
||
|
||
[14] shave yourself completely bald and try to pass yourself off as a
|
||
human. when someone asks you if you're a monkey, throw some poop at them
|
||
and say, "hey! would a monkey throw his own fecal matter at you? huh!?"
|
||
and then walk away. of course they would, but they won't be able to do
|
||
anything since they'll have a shitload of monkey dung all over their face.
|
||
|
||
[15] write for rEd.
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
well, that's it for me! hope you had fun and maybe got some good
|
||
ideas! captivity can really get boring, and hopefully, i've given you
|
||
enough knowledge to occupy yourself. just remember - this file was for
|
||
informational purposes >only<! don't really go flinging your own poo in
|
||
someones face! it makes you look bad. later!
|
||
|
||
- stinky
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
p.s. - here's an article i wrote for pAl that they turned down. you
|
||
have to be able to speak monkey to read it. it's on how to make an improved
|
||
rEd box!
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
oo ooo o oooo o oooo ooo ooooooo oo o oooooo o oooo oo ooooo o!
|
||
|
||
ooo oo ee ooo aaaa ooo eee o a eee a oo e a oooo o o e o!
|
||
|
||
o oo eeeee a ooooo aa eeee!
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
:: a gnu type of box ::
|
||
:: by; black francis ::
|
||
:: originally published in rEd #19 - 2/95 ::
|
||
|
||
i. history
|
||
------------
|
||
|
||
hello, lamers! ok, well, you see - the hacking/phreaking scene is
|
||
literally falling apart at the seams. it's definitely not what it used to
|
||
be. there hasn't been a decent >original< hack/phreak file in years! not
|
||
to mention, everybody and their mother runs a h/p/a/v/c board. like my mom,
|
||
but, she's a lamer anyway. so, while at februarys 2600 meeting, something
|
||
occurEd to me. the perfect idea to spice up 'the scene' - a new box!
|
||
|
||
once again, originality came into play here. what could i do that
|
||
hasn't already been done before? there are boxes for virtually anything out
|
||
there. so, i put my 'zine idea box' into action.
|
||
|
||
security. there we go! hacker security. but, what kind of
|
||
security? there are already boxes to block tracing, block caller i.d., etc.
|
||
so, my 'zine idea box' went into overdrive for this one. then it occurEd to
|
||
me. when the feds come knocking on my door, i want it so that they won't be
|
||
able to find >any< of my boxes! ha! i'm a fraggin' genius, i tell you!
|
||
|
||
there was my idea. i passed the idea around to an 'elite few' and
|
||
they loved the idea as well. it was then and there that i came up with;
|
||
|
||
the shoe box!
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
ii. disclaimer
|
||
----------------
|
||
|
||
this file is for informational purposes only! i do not condone any
|
||
of this activity whatsoever, and will not be held responsible for the
|
||
outcome of attempting to build this box. actually producing and using this
|
||
box is against the law, and can get you into a lot of trouble. read on with
|
||
caution.
|
||
|
||
so, if you poke your eye out or anything, don't come crying to me.
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
iii. how to make a shoe box
|
||
-----------------------------
|
||
|
||
materials needed:
|
||
-------------------
|
||
1 money (around $50)
|
||
1 a magic marker (any color)
|
||
|
||
the only thing you really need for the shoe box is some money.
|
||
around $50 would be good. the magic marker is extra. this is how you do
|
||
it;
|
||
|
||
scope out the local mall for a shoe store. here are some shoe stores
|
||
on the east coast who have shoe box material in stock :
|
||
|
||
1) foot locker
|
||
2) lady foot locker
|
||
3) athletes foot
|
||
4) kinny
|
||
5) payless shoes
|
||
6) tom mcahn (or something like that)
|
||
7) buster brown
|
||
|
||
now, go to one of these stores and begin looking at shoes or
|
||
sneakers. if you ask for some shoes right away without looking, they may
|
||
get suspicious and call the feds on you! then, pick out a very cheap pair
|
||
of shoes. try to find the cheapest pair in the store and buy them. try to
|
||
go for a bigger size of shoe. preferably, something over a 10. the
|
||
salesperson will bring you the shoes unless they don't have them in that
|
||
size. if this occurs, simply find a different pair or get a different size
|
||
(getting a different size may make you look suspicious!). once you have the
|
||
shoes, you have the option of trying them on if you want to look completely
|
||
unsuspicous.
|
||
|
||
then, buy the shoes! you can throw the shoes or sneakers themselves
|
||
away at this point. they are of no use to you. all you need is - the box!
|
||
|
||
bring the box itself home. open it up. there will be
|
||
white/transparent tissue paper inside that will look like this;
|
||
|
||
/-------------------------------\
|
||
| ~ ~ ~ ~ |
|
||
|~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ |
|
||
| ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ |
|
||
| ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ <--- crumples
|
||
| ~ ~ ~ ~ |
|
||
|~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ | <--- tissue paper
|
||
\_______________________________/
|
||
|
||
take the tissue and throw it away. it is of no use whatsoever. even
|
||
less use than the shoes. now, if you decide to use it (this part is not
|
||
nessescary to make a successful box), grab a magic marker. any color will
|
||
do. take the magic marker, and write on top of the box :
|
||
|
||
"these are shoes!"
|
||
|
||
this is to trick feds. it usually isn't nessescary, but if you want
|
||
to be extra precautious, this will do the trick. next, take all your other
|
||
boxes that you would like to hide from the feds, and stick them inside the
|
||
box. this keeps the boxes out of sight, mostly, out of the sight of feds!
|
||
now, take the box, and store somewhere such as a closet, or somewhere where
|
||
shoes normally go. try to put the side that says "these are shoes!" where
|
||
everyone who opens the closet (or wherever you decide to hide the thing) can
|
||
see it. this is great fed-protection!
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
iv. schematics
|
||
----------------
|
||
|
||
top view of shoe box :
|
||
----------------------
|
||
|
||
___________________________
|
||
| |
|
||
| |
|
||
| |
|
||
| |
|
||
| |
|
||
| |
|
||
| |
|
||
| | <--- lid (opens)
|
||
| |
|
||
| |
|
||
| |
|
||
|___________________________|
|
||
|
||
|
||
side view of shoe box :
|
||
-----------------------
|
||
|
||
________________________________
|
||
| | <--- lid (opens)
|
||
|________________________________|
|
||
| |
|
||
| these are shoes! | <--- actual box itself
|
||
| |
|
||
|____________________________|
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
:: holier than thou (how's that for witty?) ::
|
||
:: by; black francis ::
|
||
:: originally published in - pEz #23 5/95 ::
|
||
|
||
"oh shit. kurt's dead. quick! grab that courtney chick!"
|
||
- mtv, 1994, after hearing the news of kurt cobain's suidice.
|
||
|
||
i am; doll parts. what the hell? either that's extremely genius and
|
||
cryptic, or it's just really stupid and pathetic.
|
||
|
||
i'm opting for stupid and pathetic.
|
||
|
||
hole's enjoyed an incrEdible, almost overwhelming, amount of success
|
||
as of late. having "live through this" voted the best album of the year,
|
||
securing a spot as one of the headlining acts on lollapalooza, and topping
|
||
the billboard pop charts for a nice chunk of the year, hole has become a
|
||
household name. kind of strange for a small band that has basically
|
||
forgotten it's roots as a new york based riot grrrl band, and we all know
|
||
how unsuccessful riot grrrl bands turn out, now, don't we?
|
||
|
||
one thing made all of that possible. a small-scale disaster. the
|
||
suicide of hole's lead singer, courtney love's, husband; kurt cobain.
|
||
|
||
|
||
follow me, here?
|
||
|
||
actually, i've heard many things that are supposedly responsible for
|
||
hole's fame and fortune. i know, for a fact, that it is only due to kurt's
|
||
suicide. let's face it; hole has no talent. none, whatsoever. if they're
|
||
the genius band that everyone praises them to be, how come their first
|
||
effort, "pretty on the inside", was such a miserable failire? because hole
|
||
sucks. it's that simple.
|
||
|
||
let's look at some of the other reasons hole may be popular, analyse
|
||
them, and show just how extremely and terribly wrong they are ::
|
||
|
||
myth #1 - courtney love is a good singer.
|
||
=========================================
|
||
|
||
oh please! i've heard better screeching come out of a dying cat. we
|
||
all know she can't sing. why she even bothers is mind-boggling. her voice
|
||
makes me want to claw my own eyeballs out. it's _that_ horrible.
|
||
|
||
you remember that woman in rhode island or whatever that had a
|
||
seizure every time she heard mary hart's (of entertainment tonight) voice?
|
||
_that's_ what courtney love's voice does to me. it's vomit-inducing.
|
||
|
||
myth #2 - courtney love's lyrics are genius
|
||
===========================================
|
||
|
||
i don't think so. let's take a look at some of her "genius" lyrics;
|
||
|
||
"they get what they want, and they never want it again"
|
||
- violet, from; "live through this"
|
||
|
||
of course they don't want it. they already have it.
|
||
|
||
"i'm miss world. somebody kill me. give me pills."
|
||
- miss world, from; "live through this"
|
||
|
||
this is completely mind boggling. hey. if you didn't want to win
|
||
the miss world competition, maybe you shouldn't have enterEd. eek. i'd
|
||
hate to see the swimsuit competition. argh!
|
||
|
||
someone give her those fucking pills she keeps asking for and maybe,
|
||
just maybe, she'll shut up.
|
||
|
||
myth #3 - hole is a good noise band
|
||
===================================
|
||
|
||
i admit. hole is noisy, but, they're not good. now, it's not that
|
||
hard to start a "noise" band and be good at it. hell, it's just a bunch of
|
||
noise, but hole can't even do that. that's a true sign of a talentless
|
||
group.
|
||
|
||
nobody in that band is a good musician. they're all revoltingly
|
||
medicore. the guitarist. the other guitarist. the bassist. the drummer.
|
||
they're all horribly medicore. i've heard better from local bands.
|
||
|
||
there's nothing left. the music, the lyrics, and the singer are all
|
||
shit. they all amount to a pile of shit. so, that only proves that the
|
||
reason they're popular, is because a certain someone blasted a hole in their
|
||
head and the alternateen crowd latched onto them like a leech, and the world
|
||
is a worse place because of it.
|
||
|
||
now we've got to put up with courtney love's shit. her little
|
||
illiterate ramblings on aol, her temper tantrums at concerts, her fights,
|
||
her apperances at social events, hobnobbing (is that even a word?) with
|
||
actual celebrities.
|
||
|
||
courtney love is quickly becoming the yoko ono of "alternative"
|
||
music, and we're giving her a reason to do it by buying her albums, etc.
|
||
|
||
let's hope that during her set at lollapalooza, there's a good band
|
||
on the second stage. if not, i don't know if i can entertain myself through
|
||
the whole set simply by giving her the finger and yelling obscenities.
|
||
speaking of lollapaloza, think of the crowd that hole is going to
|
||
draw. alternateens, young and old, flocking to see their queen do her thing
|
||
in front of thousands of people who simply want to see a good show.
|
||
|
||
how depressing.
|
||
|
||
courtney love, as a person, amounts to a pile of shit. i truely feel
|
||
sorry for her daughter, frances bean, who has to live with her and the fact
|
||
that her father was a manic depressive who couldn't handle the trials of
|
||
stardom.
|
||
which reminds me. remember why kurt cobain couldn't handle it
|
||
anymore? because of fame and fortune. because nirvana was a household
|
||
name. because whatever he did, he couldn't get out of the spotlight. so,
|
||
what do we do to honor his life? exploit him, his band, and his name 100x
|
||
more than it has ever been exploited.
|
||
|
||
courtney love is no help. while on a recent trip to philadelphia,
|
||
she stopped in zipperhead. zipperhead happened to be carrying a kurt cobain
|
||
death certificate t-shirt (which i'm not glamorizing in the slightest).
|
||
uh-oh. a recipe for disaster.
|
||
courtney goes off on a tangent, knocking over racks of clothing and
|
||
cursing out the employees.
|
||
it's their job to sell that idiotic shirt, stupid.
|
||
this isn't an isolated incident. not by a far stretch of the
|
||
imagination. courtney love has gotten into trouble at shows, at home, doing
|
||
everyday things, and even at the oscars. it's a hobby of hers.
|
||
|
||
what kind of self-respecting person would go to the oscars in the
|
||
first place, let alone a "fuck the world and everyone on it" type of person
|
||
like courtney love? why was she, of all people, at the _oscars_? not only
|
||
was she at the oscars, but she attending with another woman, supposedly her
|
||
girlfriend.
|
||
courtney love - bisexual? there's a big suprise. i knew it was only
|
||
a matter of time before she leaped onto that bandwagon. her girlfriend was
|
||
a cute one, too. that truely suprises me. courtney love has the good looks
|
||
of roadkill. she's pale, has big features, and is just downright trasy
|
||
looking. real trailer-park material.
|
||
|
||
that wouldn't make a difference to me if she was actually talented,
|
||
or i actually enjoyed her music, but i don't.
|
||
|
||
there's no easy way to end this rant. i guess you should let
|
||
everyone be what they want, do what they want, and go on with your life,
|
||
but there's something about courtney love and her success that drives me
|
||
absolutely mad.
|
||
|
||
jealousy? maybe. who knows? if my philosophy about bad music and
|
||
horrible "celebrities" is correct, it'll all blow over soon.
|
||
|
||
after all, courtney's fifteen minutes are just about up. you can
|
||
only make an ass out of yourself for so long.
|
||
|
||
[-----]
|
||
|
||
:: the gothic rant ::
|
||
:: by; black francis ::
|
||
:: originally published in pEz #24 - 6/95 ::
|
||
|
||
now, _here_ is a real rant - in true t-file fashion.
|
||
|
||
ahem. let's begin;
|
||
|
||
you people have pushed me entirely too far with your "gothic"
|
||
crap!
|
||
|
||
"i'm a vampire! blood tastes good! yum yum!"
|
||
|
||
"i am gothic and original! get hip to my anarchy!"
|
||
|
||
just shut up because you are not a gothic and you are certainly not
|
||
a vampire! you are accomplishing nothing but _pissing me off_! take your
|
||
painted black fingernails and shove them up your tight white ass, you
|
||
blantantly idiotic evil spawn of an art fag.
|
||
|
||
you're a vampire? when did you realize this? were you a vampire
|
||
_child_ as well, because, i don't think you can "suddenly" become a vampire.
|
||
|
||
"gee. the sun seems to bother me much more than it ever did."
|
||
|
||
i'm sure if you were a vampire child, your parents would have sent
|
||
your pathetic ass to a mental institution as quickly as possible.
|
||
|
||
at least claim to be something original. like a werewolf, or
|
||
frankenstein or something.
|
||
|
||
yeah, you're really different. just like everyone else. you also
|
||
have a big fucking neon sign right over the top of your head that says,
|
||
"look at me! i'm a winner! i want your attention! i will not be ignorEd,
|
||
damnit! if this means piercing my whole fucking head to get attention - i
|
||
will do so. my rich parents don't love me and pay no attention to me."
|
||
|
||
stay out of my face! go home and write some more angst poetry you
|
||
trent reznor wanna-be piece of shit. bauhaus can bite me, trent reznor can
|
||
suck me, and joy division can just flat-out die (oops! too late!).
|
||
|
||
no, wait. i don't want trent reznor to suck me. after all, he is
|
||
bi-sexual now, correct? just like everyone else? he may do just that.
|
||
|
||
there's a trend you won't be able to forget as easily as
|
||
bell-bottoms.
|
||
|
||
"hey, jim, remember when you were getting guys up the ass?"
|
||
|
||
"yeah. that was just a phase i was going through."
|
||
|
||
go away gothic scum! you are the epitome of stupidity and a disgrace
|
||
to the human race. wow! i'm a poet and didn't know it. maybe i should
|
||
scamper off and write some suicidual angst poetry now. good idea! how
|
||
pathetic and asinine. you make me want to spit on you, you retched piece of
|
||
shit.
|
||
|
||
ok. you be gothic, and i'll be ice age. now, that's original! i'll
|
||
walk around in a wooly mammoth fur, beating people senseless with my club
|
||
and dragging them back to my house for the sake of being different because
|
||
i'm a _real_ winner!
|
||
|
||
"oonga boonga!"
|
||
|
||
"whoah! look at the caveman! he's a real rebel!"
|
||
|
||
shut up!
|
||
|
||
die!
|
||
|
||
may your rubber pants melt in the hot summer sun and cling to your
|
||
legs for enternity, you pety swine!
|
||
|
||
may you get caught in the rain and have all your black hair dye run
|
||
into your eyes causing you to lose your vision so you don't see the fury of
|
||
my knuckles as i pummel you.
|
||
|
||
may all your body piercings rust, you silly walking billboards for
|
||
mental insanity! you annoy me! you stoop to the level of cattle and pay
|
||
sixty dollars or more to have someone mutilate you by jabbing some metal
|
||
rod or whatever through your face or your stomach or your genitals and
|
||
calling it hip and fashionable. the only thing that seperates you from
|
||
cattle is that cattle get mutilated for free! jealous? i bet you are, you
|
||
human oddity!
|
||
|
||
here's an idea - look up the word "exploitation" in the dictionary.
|
||
|
||
now get away from me, you worthless slimey little worm.
|
||
|
||
i feel much better.
|
||
|
||
============================================================================
|
||
============================================================================
|
||
|
||
)_) pEZ iZ iN dA hOUSE! wERD 'eM uP! (_(
|
||
((______/ ..\ pHOR tHE lATEST pHAT-aZZ pEZ pHILEZ, kALL /.. \______))
|
||
| /--( gOAT bLOWERZ aNONYMOUZ @ (215)750-0392 )--\ |
|
||
|||---||| "aDMITTING yOU hAVE a pROBLEM iS tHE fIRST |||---|||
|
||
M M M M sTEP tO rECOVERY." M M M M
|
||
|
||
pEZ mONTHLY iNFO-fUN-lINE % (800)356-5050
|
||
|
||
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|
||
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