338 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
338 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
===
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=== Mike's Madness #12
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===
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=== Season Premier
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===
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In Memory of Graham Chapman
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Good day.
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I would like to talk about a subject that not all people feel comfortable
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with.
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I would like to talk about:
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Australia.
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The meer mention of our mates down under raises a chill in the spines of
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many.
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Especially when they think of all those sheep.
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Thousands of them.
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An ocean of sheep.
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(Well there's a lot, anyway.)
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Then there's that dream.
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That dream where you're on an island.
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An island of . . . sheep.
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Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
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So innocently they flick their tails to reveal that tight, pink...
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[C R A C K ! !]
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"OI! TAKE THAT YA REVOLTIN' PERVERT!"
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You hit me! You hit me in the mouf!
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Yes! Where'ver sheep are threatened by (check one) . . .
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\/
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[ ] filthy perverts,
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[ ] Marxist/Leninist ideology,
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[ ] great 'unks of Spam,
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[ ] Apple products,
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[x] sheep fondlers,
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. . . 'arry Butler will be there!
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(Editor's note: This is in no way, shape or form meant to suggest that the
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Patron Saint of Australia, Harry Butler, would EVER engage in any of the
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said sheep fondling activities. Not much, anyway.)
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---
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I'm sure the people down in Austrailia readin' this are a tad irked
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because I portrayed their favorite naturalist (which is almost the Australian
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equivalent of a saint) as a bit . . . hmmmm . . . "earthy". Well cheer up! I
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truly do love Harry and the whole of Australia. Great country. 'Specially that
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lovely collection o' venomous creatures y'all got yourselves there. They was
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talkin' to some dude down there in Austrailia on National Geographic Explorer
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(okay, yeah . . . I do actually watch and enjoy Explorer. Closest I'll ever
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come to actually traveling anywhere neat) and they asked this dude:
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"How many venomous species of wildlife does Australia posses?"
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"200," that dude answered in a snap and with a note of pride.
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But the thing that amazed me was that he answered the question at all. If
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some dude asked you "How many poisonous species are there in the US?", you'd
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answer "huh?", because the number of vemomous species residing in the U.S.
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isn't a point of common knowledge. Not so in Australia. It's like a point of
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national pride there. You can go to any bar in Australia (and there is quite a
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number of them) and there'll be some dude who just killed his twentieth
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Foster's in many minutes, keeping atop his barstool with the grace of a
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spastic trying to balance on one hand, and belching with such force that
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you're surprised he doesn't just shoot off his barstool and fly around
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backwards like some demented NASA project, mouthing off about the potentially
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lethal wildlife of Balmyland.
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"OI!" he'll yell to whoever's sober enough to hear him, "Oi! Wot a great
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country Australia is, 'specially all the deadly fauna stalkin' around! Blimey!
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Quite a bit of it then, ain't there? You can keep your black widows, and
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rattle-snakes and Putorican kids with green teeth. Give me a Blue-Ringed
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Octopus anyday. [BUUUUUURRP!]. BLIMEY! One o' them octo-puses wiped me entire
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family out! The vicious little basta'd crossed the 1,000 miles of sun-baked
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desert between Alice Springs and the ocean, at high noon when the temperature
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was 300c in the shade, in under 1 hour. Then it ripped the side off the house
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and proceeded to bite us to death . . ."
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[THUD!]
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And then someone'll yell:
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"OI! The Prime Minister fell offa 'is bleedin' barstool again!"
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ENJOYIN' THE ART GALLERY
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------------------------
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I went to the Legion of Honor in San Francisco (it's an art gallery) and
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I noticed how many people are wholly unequipped to take even the most basic
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pleasure from Art. They mill about, keeping silent, and never express their
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honest feelings about the paintings.
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Not me.
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That's why I've written this article. To help you get the most for
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whatever exhorbitant fee they charge you to get in the museum.
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FIRST, KNOW THE RULES!
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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And at the last check, those rules were:
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NO!:
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-
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Spittin'
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Fightin'
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Barfin'
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Touchin' yerself (or others!)
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Stealin' things
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Makin' noises like Curley.
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For comparison, here are the rules at the Sydney's Kitch-O-Rama Gallery.
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NO!:
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-
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Abbos
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EXPRESSING YOUR ADMIRATION
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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Don't just regard beautiful works of art with a simple nod. Tell
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people about 'em! Share your experience with anyone inside hearing range!
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Let 'em know how much you like the paintings!
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Example:
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(after viewing a Barouque painting):
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"Oi! OI! 'ERE'S A GOOD 'UN, THEN! ROIT NOICE! PLENTY OF TITS!"
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(after viewing a Dutch Master):
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"I LOIKE THIS 'UN VERY VERY MUCH! ESPECIALLY THE TITS!"
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(after viewing a piece of Modern Art):
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"PISS ARTIST! PISS ARTIST! AND THERE'S NO TITS!"
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after viewing various 17'th century Venus paintings):
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"OI! SHE GOT A BIG BUM! NOICE TITS, THO!"
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(after viewing French ceramics from the age of Louis the XIV):
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"'ERE'S A NOICE BIT OF KITCH, THEN!"
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(After viewing Impressionist art):
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"THIS 'ERE'S A PAINTIN' WIT' A MESSAGE -- AN' THE MESSAGE IS THE FROGGY
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WOT PAINED THIS SWILLED TOO MUCH CHEAP WINE 'FORE HE STARTED!"
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Should someone disagree with your views, and suggests you keep them to
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yourself by uttering some curt comment like "Shut your fucking mouth, ya
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bastard!," you should hit them very, very hard. Fuckin' art critics.
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Use your senses! (wot ya got of 'em)
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-++-++-=+-$+#-_=_++-;..++-/+.=_=--/=
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Paintings are pleasing to the eyes, but they are equally enjoyable to the
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nose, fingers or palette. Use ALL your senses when enjoying expensive works of
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art. Get right up in there and take a great whiff! Ahhh. Or a few licks should
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really give you the "taste of history" inherent in so many paintings that cost
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more than $100,000.
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Farting
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-------
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It's right out.
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Masturbating
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------------
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Also frowned upon (usually).
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Gettin' the boot
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----------------
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Too often, a fine day at the gallery is cut short by some little facist
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in a rent-a-cop outfit bootin' ya out because YOU know how to enjoy art and he
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doesn't. When this happens, you should yell obcenities at the creep until he
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threatens to call the police. You should then stagger off and urinate on some
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expensive statue or fountain the museum has foolishly left outside.
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That'll show 'em.
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Coming soon![K
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------------
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Enjoyin' the Symphony
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Enjoyin' the Ballet
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Enjoyin' the Theater
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Enjoyin' the Zoo
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REALLY enjoyin' the Zoo (12 p. Plain brown wrapper)
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How to Hire a Defense Attorney
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Bolero: Music to Masturbate by
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Having one off while listening to Wagner (personally endorsed by A. Hitler)
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Caress your Carrot to Rimsky-Korsakov
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Modest Moussorgsky and the Naughty Girls of Minsk.
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There will now be a reading from a selected work of classical literature . . .
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(from Modest Moussorgsky and the Naughty Girls of Minsk):
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"Please show us your organ, Mr. Moussorgsky," Vannessa pleaded.
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"Yes! Yes! Show us all your big organ!" the rest joined in.
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"Well, it's not that big . . ." Modest stammered modestly.
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"I heard it's the biggest in all pre-communist Russia!" Catherine said.
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"Even the Czar himself admires it!" Vannessa added.
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"Yes, and Rasputin has oft commented on its size!" Catherine also added.
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"It's quite a big organ!" Vannessa also also added.
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"Bigger than Lenin's?" Catherine asked.
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"Oh much bigger!" Modest blurted.
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"Bigger than Marx's?" Vannessa asked in amazement.
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"Much bigger than any belonging to the founders of modern Communism!"
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Modest admitted.
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"Even bigger than Mr. Ed's?" the rest asked with lust dripping in great,
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oozing drops from their words.
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"Well . . . let's not get silly."
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Mr. Ed and Wilbur (3 bob. Over 21 only, please)
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-----------------
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Willllllllburrrrr! That's not a carrot, Willlllburrrrrr! You're not gonna
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play Vet again, are ya? Oh Willllllburrrrrrrrr, you wait an awful long time
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before ya ask me t' cough! OWWWWW WILLLLLBURRRRRRRRRRR!
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Wilbur: Come on, Ed -- let's hear ya whinny!
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Dear Sirs,
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I wish to to complain, quite a bit, but no one listens to me.
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Who fancies a sailor, then?
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Maggie Thatcher, P.M., P.M.S.,
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B.F.D.
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Dear Sirs,
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Why can't we have a gross bit?!
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I do Maggie!
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H.R.M. Queen Elizabeth
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And now for two nice ladies in the spotlight of world politics . . .
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# 43: A gross bit
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A gross bit
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(sung [preferable not aloud or in the hearing range of children] to the
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theme of the Beverly Hillbillies. I do wholly apologize for this now,
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because don't think you're gonna be reading this later.)
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[A-HEM!]
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Lemme tell ya all a story about a man named Ned
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Wasn't very bright, but he sure loved givin' head
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Then one day he was suckin' on some dude,
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And up from the head comes a bubblin' spooge!
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Jizz, that is.
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Cum.
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African toothpaste.
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Next thang y'know Ned's got it in his ha'r.
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Ned got upset an' said 'How'll I gettit outta thar?!'
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The dude gettin' sucked on said "Leave it up t' me!"
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Pulled outta Ned and washed it out with pee.
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Whizz, that is.
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Piss.
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Golden showers . . .
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C R A C K ! !
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'E SHOT ME! 'E shot me in the leg!
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So anyway, the other day I bought a package called FoxBase. I'd hoped
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from the namesae there'd be a fox inside.
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Well . . .
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Not only was there no fox enclosed, but in the alleged fox's place was
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30 disks and the Encylopedia Brittanica (which I later found was the
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Pocket Edition of the instructions).
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So . . . .
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I wrote them a letter to voice my great displeasure.
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And . . .
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It looked like this . . .
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Dear Foxbase People,
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I would like to complain loudly and in person, but the cost of airfare
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deprives me of this right and privilege. So I'll complain instead in this
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letter.
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I recently purchased an edition of your so-called "fox" base program
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from a software vendor near my house (Egghead Software on Howe, to be
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exact. Best prices in town). And when I got it home, I discovered no fox
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was enclosed. Nor was there a voucher for a vulpine. Or a receipt for a
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reynard. In fact, apart from tromping down to your office with a loaded M-
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16, taking you all hostage and demanding one for your release, I see no way
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of obtaining a fox via your package.
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Why is this so?
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Yours with total lack of malice,
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Mike Beebe
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P.S. I sent you something that should give you a laugh and your competition
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a shudder: a picture of a fox eating a dead racoon I flattened out on
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Hiway 99 on the way back from Elk Grove the other night. That should give
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cause for thought to the folks back in Hamsheer next time they try to
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compare themselves to Foxbase!
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The nice folks at Foxbase have yet to reply, but I'm expecting a
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Fox-Gram any day now.
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Welp, the Thorazine is starting to take effect now. See ya!
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Wholly caustic humour written by:
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Mike "Drugs? Me? Never!" Beebe
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(C) 1989 Yucks for You!
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