194 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
194 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
|
|
'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
|
|
##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
|
|
##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #307 !!
|
|
#########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !!
|
|
##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: ===========================================
|
|
##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Sand Paper" !!
|
|
##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Trilobyte !!
|
|
..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 12/6/98 !!
|
|
!!========================================================================!!
|
|
|
|
one time i went out and left a note for my mom saying:
|
|
|
|
"left a bit ago.
|
|
be home soon."
|
|
|
|
she never seemed to notice the vagueness of this note, or the
|
|
fact that i had pulled one over on her. i came home within hours as to
|
|
not be obscene. i could have stayed out past proper hours, but for all
|
|
she knew, i could have left two hours before i came home. my note said
|
|
nothing of the opposite. it was one of the small square note sheets that
|
|
she always had so many of -- each phone message or note asking me to do
|
|
something for her was written on one of these sheets of paper. they
|
|
didn't fly very well, like a plane would, and they were of a course
|
|
texture as to discourage one from rubbing them on one's face. it was
|
|
like a potted cactus, one thing that people would always look at but
|
|
dread touching. it may look pleasant, and not too harmful, but one wrong
|
|
move and you'll be bleeding uncomfortably.
|
|
|
|
if i had come home really really late, it wouldn't have mattered
|
|
because, she could have had no idea that i had even left because i left
|
|
a while ago but really she would have known that i had left a while ago,
|
|
you know, maybe, because she's dumb. i have to picture things, i have to
|
|
picture angels flying. angels dressed in white, angels playing ttheir
|
|
typical harps. why do they have to be playing harps? she's looking
|
|
down, down into a cloud, and the sky is dark blue. a dark blue. she
|
|
grew a beard, she is not a woman, but also a man, and smiled as she
|
|
opened her mouth to say,
|
|
|
|
"come here, clarence. take a look at this one fish."
|
|
|
|
and clarence slowly and clumsily glided over to the spot where
|
|
bobi had been standing. clarence looked down through the spot in the
|
|
clouds and eyed the fish. it was as if they were on a cloud directly
|
|
above the lake, and only a foot down from them was the surface of the
|
|
man made body of water.
|
|
|
|
the fish was sick. it had been beaten on the head by a rock, and
|
|
then it became mentally ill and began to swallow sand. sand is not
|
|
pleasant in one's intestines. that fish, known as mallock, was beginning
|
|
to start to commence death.
|
|
|
|
clarence and bobi continued to look on with indifference. bobi's
|
|
original interest in this one particular fish had begun to fade away when
|
|
he realized that it was worm-infested. them worms, they eat away at your
|
|
insides and make for unpleasant visiting with family. swim, poop, greet
|
|
mother, poop, cough, swim, etc. it showed a sign of weakness and who
|
|
wants to be weak in the world of wrestling?
|
|
|
|
his car was an elephant, his muzzle was a faint sparkling hunk of
|
|
jagged rock. living for ages, seeing none, producing less. outer, inner,
|
|
jumping around, kicking the flesh of the wrinkled body, frustrated with
|
|
the lack of nose. it's not the nose, it's the looking towards the sky
|
|
with a sense of awe -- what's up there? is it love? is it that friend?
|
|
is it who it is... it's that one, that one that one. look back down, a
|
|
smile on the face, you have more to discover before you know what truly
|
|
is in the sky besides the clouds and gas and sun and stars and mood --
|
|
it's the purpose, it's the reason -- and there must be someone else.
|
|
there is someone else that completes the search and you won't get there
|
|
before you die. death is the point when you complete the meld. the
|
|
union brings you to where you need to be, with the wood and the bark
|
|
that doesn't make any sense. it makes noise, a hollow sound, and is
|
|
disvcovered by the ancients -- is is discovered, but has not yet been.
|
|
marriage is not the blessed union of souls, friendship is -- marriage in
|
|
the purest form is an extension of friendship, and a marriage with
|
|
friendship is the union which will bring one group to the higher level at
|
|
the end. without the needed companion, you become a skeleton like the
|
|
rest -- but two skeletons together make one as the flesh, one as the
|
|
leader -- one as the understanding figure and one to follow. take my
|
|
hand, take it as we travel in the way that leads to ultimate state
|
|
requirements. my kidney will explode, my ancient form of liver
|
|
transplant makes for tumors and beef, cabbage, are you there? tear it
|
|
out, rip it up, drink the water from a cup.
|
|
|
|
i wasn't sane, i didn't think right, i needed other people there
|
|
to keep my thoughts normal. when apart, they didn't matter -- what they
|
|
cared, i didn't care. i knew what worked for me in my head and that's
|
|
how it would ultimately be. i'm wasting times until it all comes out
|
|
anyway, i might as well get it over with.
|
|
|
|
i drive my car to the lake and fall in, sinking to my ultimate
|
|
peril, but my brain does not allow it to end me. so i escape and bob up
|
|
to the surface. i gasp for air and then look about, it is dark, the
|
|
water is cold, but it had been light and warm when i had fallen in. had
|
|
i done something special or had someone else done something special of
|
|
which i was a part? i had thoughts often, i had thoughts that no right
|
|
person should have. if out in the open, even in jest, i could scare the
|
|
pants off of jeffrey dahmer, his mother, my wife, the end of the people's
|
|
life. i could speak and make your mind crawl, your skin ooze from your
|
|
ears, you hair and flesh oily like the grease that coats the insides.
|
|
it's that flesh and gore and grease that permits my plight to laugh at
|
|
how you scream in agony, you do, your black hair sticks to your body and
|
|
head and face as the tears creep down your cheeks. who made it this way?
|
|
who made this? what is this? who are you? what the hell?
|
|
|
|
beer.
|
|
|
|
it's the beer, it's always the beer, can't live without the beer.
|
|
it's not the grass, but the wheat that produces the beer, and although
|
|
the grass is growing everywhere, it is not the grass that makes the bear.
|
|
or beer. it's the grass that makes the sheep, who produce the methane in
|
|
new zealand, who remove the ozone layer, who kill the people of skin
|
|
cancer, and it's the grass's fault that we die. the grass converts bad
|
|
chemicals into to good chemicals, helping the atmosphere, but then the
|
|
lambs and sheep eat all the grass and then they fart a lot and then they
|
|
end up creating more atmosphering problems. the sheep and lambs exist
|
|
for our clothing, which is made in factories that produce harmful
|
|
chemicals that harm the ozone. we wear clothing so that we are not naked
|
|
and keep warm, but we won't need clothing anymore if it gets so hot due
|
|
to the greenhouse effect. if we don't wear clothing, we will sweat a
|
|
lot, even more than people having sex. people have sex after drinking
|
|
lots of beer. though not the only object influencing sex, beer plays a
|
|
large role in much of the sexual activity happening in the world today,
|
|
especially in wisconsin and in germany. if there was no more sex in
|
|
wisconsin and germany, there would be no more wisconsinites or germans.
|
|
nobody would have any more beer, and the grass could grow peacefully for
|
|
the sheep. but people would begin having sex with the sheep, because
|
|
they can't have sex with the wisconsinites or germans, and then the sheep
|
|
will all die out because all the people have sexually transmitted
|
|
diseases. the sheep die out, the grass grows madly, and converts all the
|
|
bad gasses into good fases for the atmosphere. the atmosphere is very
|
|
happy.
|
|
|
|
where is your 60-minute rendition of the anthem of gemorrah? i
|
|
want you to bend over that table for me, girl, bend over and take off
|
|
your pants. i will spank you, for you have been bad, then i will turn
|
|
you out on the street and record your bad doings on my diary. you will
|
|
wander and roam until someone offers to give you a ride. they take you
|
|
back to their place, and it begins to be bad again, for you are bad. you
|
|
are the bad one, not i. i put on the trenchcoat. i wear the trenchcoat
|
|
to show that i am not the bad one, you all are. i am not the bad one. i
|
|
look and see the people -- the people are so bad, they do bad things to
|
|
me and they have done bad things to you. you refuse to acknowledge the
|
|
bad things. i grow my hair long because it covers my face -- i look
|
|
menacing, oh so scary, i eat anarchy and i breathe industrial -- i work
|
|
in the factory, i eat the gears, i munch on the iron that makes things
|
|
move -- who make sthings move but the poeple i hate, i move things. i
|
|
move boxes, i am a younger man in a red hat and blue overalls, i am the
|
|
world going round and the thing in the town with a bassett hound and eat
|
|
my shit, eat my shit, gobble it down it's the hund -- the HUND gund gund
|
|
gund gund hund. DOG DOGOO
|
|
|
|
where is the great white north? it is not there, it is frozen
|
|
and will be frozen until we bomb the hell out of it. it doesn't deserve
|
|
to live any more that the iraqians, so let's bomb it too, and let's make
|
|
a holiday for the people who remember when casimir pulaski day is --
|
|
honor the young, the proud, the american. reap the harvest of fine young
|
|
minds to direct the future of our country. feed them things to help them
|
|
decide they don't want to be fed.
|
|
|
|
feed us the mind-mix that taste so foul,
|
|
teaching the minds to scorn and scowl,
|
|
|
|
jurisdiction of the holy juistice justic3e
|
|
t6h8is makes xno sense. who makes sense?
|
|
[oiwhere's my hamburger? 9 -ithe face of the ancientss... thyey knoew/.
|
|
|
|
phugner
|
|
r
|
|
|
|
was the sound the part of their lives that made them so smart?
|
|
makingr low slow groaning noises aND SPEEH to calm people and sooth the
|
|
aching, ihgnorant moind with the things that were natural --- rather than
|
|
share, discover ------ experience and learn.
|
|
|
|
ijiji
|
|
ij
|
|
|
|
under the big oak ytree, i find the things that jump to me.
|
|
thery have the soul to rock and roll and beat thei strage.
|
|
|
|
each oo
|
|
eacho
|
|
echo to the
|
|
|
|
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
|
|
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
|
|
rrrrrrrr
|
|
|
|
no.
|
|
|
|
!!========================================================================!!
|
|
!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! #307 - WRITTEN BY: TRILOBYTE - 12/6/98 !!
|