242 lines
10 KiB
Plaintext
242 lines
10 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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anger
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-----
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one
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the son was walking out of the store with the father,
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just after buying a few groceries. suddenly the
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father stepped on the man's left shoe who was walking
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rather slowly in front of the father. the man turned
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his black face around and said "why don't you slow
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down a little there, huh?" as jericurl dripped onto
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the man's shoulder. the man gave the father a look of
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annoyance and turned around slowly and began walking
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away. suddenly a bomb went off in the sons head. the
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son walked over to the man who was now just minding
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his own business.
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"hey!" shouted the son. the man turned around as the
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father approached the son.
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"what are you doing?" said the father.
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"no one gets away with that, the father, no one." the
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son marched over to the man now standing with a
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puzzled look upon his face.
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"why did you look at the father like that? why you
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piece of shit? no one gave the man permission to look
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at the father like that, and you need the son's
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permission before you can. i didn't hear the man ask
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me permission, so you are going to apologize to the
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father right the fuck now!" the son pounded his words
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into the man's ears.
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"man, fuck you and the father!" replied the man as he
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slowly turned away, as if the conversation was over.
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at that moment nothing existed but revenge, and
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hatred. the son grabbed the back of the man's head,
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gripping onto his wet hair. the son swung the man
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around and threw his head against a wall. after
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breaking the man's nose against the hard concrete he
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feel to the ground in pain. the father looked on with
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disbelief. then the son put his hands against the
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wall and used all the force in his body to
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continually kick the man in the stomach and ribs. by
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the time the father was able to pull the son off the
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man who was unconscious and bleeding to death.
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getting a better look at the man the father saw blood
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coming from his mouth and noticed his pulse was
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almost non-existent. just as the father turned to ask
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the son what he had done the son was gone, he was
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nowhere to be found.
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the father stayed around to talk to the police, and
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make sure the man was going to live. the father gave
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the police all the information they needed. a warrant
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was put out for the arrest of the son. the man did
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not live to see the next day.
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two
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the son was walking down a beat up old alley when he
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found the dealer. the son looked at the dealer, and
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he could see the son's red eyes.
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"the son, i don't know what you have had but it looks
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like some good shit." said the dealer, trying to get
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a new customer. the look of hatred did not leave the
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sons face as the next words came from his mouth.
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"you sell these drugs to the people? you sell these
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drugs?" the dealer was becoming confused.
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"not so loud the son! look, if you want something we
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can do business, but don't --" "-- fuck with me!"
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yelled the son as he hit the dealer on the back of
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his head. the son saw a gun sticking out of the
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dealer's pants. the son grabbed it and put it to the
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dealer's head.
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"so you like to string up little kids? you like to do
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this thing you do, the dealer? does it make you happy
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to destroy and murder the people?" the son had the
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gun cocked and ready to fire, pressed hard against
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the dealer's ear.
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"i don't know what you're talking about the son,
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don't kill me, don't do it the son. i'm just trying
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to survive." the dealer was crying, with his face
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towards the ground, cowering in fear.
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"survive this!" the gun exploded in shards of relief
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as the bullet struck into the dealer's head. the son
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heard one of the people scream in the distance so he
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began to walk away.
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three
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walking away with his new gun the son kept his
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melancholy face a view. as the son began to walk out
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of the alley the police pulled up behind him.
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"stop!" the police yelled as their doors swung open
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and their bullets became chambered. the son turned
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around and slowly stepped towards the alley, trying
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to decide if he could make a run for it. the police
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slowly began walking towards the son.
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"ok, just put your hands on your head and lay down on
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the ground." the police instructed. the son had no
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choice at this point but to comply. the son put his
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hands behind his head and slowly moved to the ground.
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the police began walking over very cautiously.
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"we understand that there is something wrong with
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you. the father explained to us that he believes you
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to be severely ill. there are the people who can help
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the son. just remain calm and we will take you with
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us." the police said as they tried to convince the
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son of their good intentions, which numbered zero.
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"we can do this the easy way or the hard way, it is
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up to you." it was amazing how quickly the police
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died. no one was expecting it, especially the son who
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laid on the ground with his gun gripped in his right
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hand.
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"i'll take the easy way." said the son as he got up
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off the ground and brushed himself off.
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four
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"the father?" the son thought as he began walking
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home. "why would the father talk to the police about
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me?" it was a long walk. the son had to walk half way
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across town in order to get home. it was dark when
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the son arrived. the son unlocked and opened the door
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to the father's house. the son walked in and looked
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around. the father sat on the couch staring into a
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candle's flame which was the only source of light in
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the entire house.
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"my the god, where have you been, the son?" the
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father asked as he rose up from the couch.
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"why did you tell the police what i did, the father?"
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the son returned the question as he looked upon the
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father with astonishment.
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"what did you want me to do, the son? you killed the
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man who did not deserve to die for what he did." the
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father answered as though this reasoning should be
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obvious to the son.
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"the man deserved to die. the son protects the people
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he loves. the son protects them from hurt." the son
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replied in a psychotic tone. "i love the son above
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all others now, and the father hurt the son by
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telling the police. just as the man hurt the father."
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the son looked at the father as though this reasoning
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should be obvious to him.
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"hold on a second, now just calm down, everything is
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going to be ok." the father begin talking quickly.
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then the father fell to the ground, as his blood
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coated the wall behind him.
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"yes, everything is going to be ok, the son will see
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to that." the son grinned as he looked over the
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father's dead body.
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five
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the son swung open the door to the father's house and
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began running. the son ran about two blocks down to
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another house. a house the son had been to over a
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hundred times. the son hopped the fence and made his
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way to an unlocked window in the back of the house.
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the son had been through it over a hundred times. the
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son climbed through and made his way to a bedroom. a
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bedroom the son had been to over a hundred times. the
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son opened the door, walked through the dark room and
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sat on the bed. suddenly the form under the covers
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awoke and saw the son sitting above her.
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"oh, it's you. you scared the hell out of me, what
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are you doing here this late?" the love threw one of
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her pillows at the son as she smiled.
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"i have come to see the love. the son needs to talk."
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the son said now taking on a serious tone.
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"not again." the love mumbled under her breath.
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"no, the love, not again." the son replied.
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"then what is it, the son? why have you come here in
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the middle of the night?" the love asked with a
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confused look on her face.
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"i have finally figured out a way to work things out.
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i have finally found a way to make everything ok."
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the son said, reassuring the love of his intentions.
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"you see, the love hurt the son. the love hurt the
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son deeply."
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"the love never meant to hurt the son. the love never
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felt that way towards the son. the son hurt the son
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by falling for the love." the love replied, as though
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trying to make the son understand something he
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already did.
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"i know, the son knows all to well. however now the
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son will fix everything. the love hurt the son,
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therefore the love must die." and blood painted the
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window. "the son hurt the son, therefore the son must
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die." and more blood painted the window.
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rage-303 .. this is the end, my only friend the end.
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions =
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= Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) =
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= To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with =
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= "subscribe fuck". If you do not have FTP access and would like back =
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= issues, send a list of any missing issues and they will be mailed. =
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= AnonFTP FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK =
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= FTP.SEKURITY.ORG/pub/zines/fucked.up.college.kids =
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= FTP.GIGA.OR.AT/pub/hackers/zines/FUCK =
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= FTP.ETEXT.ORG/pub/Zines/FUCK =
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= WWW http://www.dimensional.com/~jericho =
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= http://www.reps.net/~krypt/fuck.html =
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= http://www.simunye.com/fuck =
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= http://www.dis.org/se7en/fuck =
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= (c) Copyright. All files copyright by the original author. =
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