121 lines
7.4 KiB
Plaintext
121 lines
7.4 KiB
Plaintext
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'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
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##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #371 !!
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#########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !!
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##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Naked People (Are People, too)" !!
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##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Paganini !!
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..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 12/22/98 !!
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!!========================================================================!!
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Okay, so there I was. "Where were you?" Hang on. I'm getting
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there.
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There I was driving my car down Auburn Street. It was a nice
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day. It was an absolutely gorgeous day. I had the windows slightly
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rolled down. Children were playing. Birds were singing. People were
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waving at each other. (So it was the finger... that does not matter.)
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Anyhow, understand that everything was just perfect. I was listening to
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my new favorite song on the radio - Karma Police, by Radiohead. All
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was right with the world. Can you picture it? Visuals are somewhat
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important for this piece.
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Then, for some reason I started thinking "You know, something
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just isn't right here. Something is missing." Incidentally I thought it
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was a little cold for the month of September but we'll touch on that one
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later. I looked around me and I couldn't find anything wrong but I knew
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something was up. Something just didn't feel right. I looked up only to
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find the small rip in the interior of my car that everyone has but has
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no idea of its origin. I looked down to the floor of my car only to find
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the hey and dirt that somehow makes its way there. I stopped to think
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"Where did all that roughage come from?" I let it go though, because
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there was something bigger here. There was a higher purpose to serve.
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I looked from side to side and there was nothing but the many books and
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socks that have taken up their residence on my passenger seat.
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Now, at this point I am starting to get a little worried. I
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wondered if maybe I was having one of those psychic moments like you see
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on Unsolved Mysteries. You know, the ones where people are killed and
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across town some woman eats a hero sandwich and has stomach pains
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knowing that somewhere in the world a man has died. Yeah, kind of like
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that, except... not really. I look down once more only to see... and
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this is the kicker... this is what will get you...
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I looked down only to see that my shirt was unbuttoned. My
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blue, button-down shirt; the one that came from a friends discount at
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the all too trendy "Buckle"; the one I wear almost every two days... was
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completely unbuttoned. !!! That's just not decent. !!!
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Know this. I am not a tart. I am not one of those girls who run
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around town in see-through shirts. I have never left the house in just
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a towel. I do not wear the color purple. (Just throwing that one in
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there.) What gets me about this whole thing is that this is the second
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time something like this has happened to me. The first time was a
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little worse because I had someone point it out to me at a gas station
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in the form of cat calls and phone numbers. Granted, that was a little
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better because it was only the top four buttons as opposed to all six.
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You know, I feel kind of bad this time though. This is getting to be a
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problem. Here I can program my VCR, calculate trigonometric problems,
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and cure cancer (okay, maybe not) but I cannot even dress myself. What
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does that say about me? What does that mean? What am I going to do?
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I am beginning to wonder if maybe I need to start wearing big sweaters
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with no buttons or perhaps a nice turtleneck would suffice. Maybe
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someone should call me each morning and say "What are you wearing?" No.
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I don't think that will do at all.
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All this got me thinking about naked people. (Let's keep it
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clean folks.) It got me thinking about how every time I go to the local
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bike path some woman wearing nothing but a bra and shorts runs past me.
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It got me thinking about how men there jog in their underwear. Children
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run around half naked. At first my opinion on all this was solid. Wear
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clothes. Stay in school. Wear clothes to school. Stay away from
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drugs... all that. However, I began to think about it and I will tell
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you something. I am glad to live in a country where people can run
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around half naked. I am happy to look around me and see people with no
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clothing on. (Whoa!) I think it's a good thing when we can recognize
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the human body as something beautiful (or not so beautiful as the case
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may be) and accept it's presence in society. Now, don't pin me down as
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one of those nudists. (One of those crazy nudists.) I simply think
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that maybe we should open our minds a little. We should relax a little.
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One thing that has always disturbed me a little are those bins of
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underwear that can be found in department stores. Ladies, men, you all
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know what I am talking about. I am talking about how every time you are
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in the hat department or the glove department, or maybe you are just
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passing through, you can find a bin full of underwear laying in the
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exact middle of the walkway. There is always a sign in the bin too.
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It says something to the extent of "Bargain Underwear. Mix and Match."
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Well, keep your bargain underwear away from me. I don't want your
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bargain underwear. The last place I want to see the word bargain is
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with the word underwear. (Or the word meat -- either one.) I don't like
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the idea of rejected underwear, and that's what it is, you know. They
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throw all of their rejected underwear into a bin and then... his is what
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is most heinous of the whole thing. Women come over and they rummage
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through the underwear. It's like the turkey bin at Logli's the last day
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before Thanksgiving. (There's a whole story there.) They get these
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crazed looks in their eyes and they delve deep into the bin... looking
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for that one good pair of underwear. I'm sorry but I don't think I can
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buy underwear that fifteen women have checked out and then rejected.
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First of all, the idea that those women have seen my underwear just
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doesn't do it for me. Secondly, the idea that they have seen my
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underwear and rejected it; that it wasn't good enough for them... that
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doesn't do much for me either.
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I'm not sure if this thing has a point. Perhaps it's just
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something to think about. Look at yourself next time you leave the
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house. You don't need to look great. Just make sure you're wearing
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clothing. It's a plus! Chicks dig it! Guys... I'm not sure what the
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deal is there. Or you know what? Don't wear clothing at all. That's
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the beauty of all of this. Sure, you might be arrested. Sure, you
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might go to jail. This is America. This is our country and if we don't
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want to wear clothing then, by God, we have the sovereignty and we
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should not have to wear clothing. You tell that to your police. You
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tell them this crazy girl named Sara Mann told you no, you don't have
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to wear a shirt today. That's the beauty of this country. We can show
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our ankles and get away without being shot. I love this country! Thank
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you and God bless America.
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!!========================================================================!!
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!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! #371 - WRITTEN BY: PAGANINI - 12/22/98 !!
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