598 lines
21 KiB
Plaintext
598 lines
21 KiB
Plaintext
belong e'zine
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Well, I set out to do this months and months ago but I wasn't writing
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anything and no one was giving me anything so I was stuck with nothing..
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but I managed to scrap some things together, nagged people till I got some
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articles, and here it is; belong, issue one. Perhaps the one thing that
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made this the hardest to get out was the fact that I wasn't giving any
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ideas of what belong would be about. That is because belong is a zine
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about you. Not stories of happenings but articles of what people are best
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at writing. I got what I wanted and I'm giving it to all of you. There
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is a big doubt about if belong issue two will ever come out. I would like
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to do more so if anyone would like to be a part of this zine e-mail
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submissions to pixy@wwti.iway.net. Where do you belong?
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#1 Invisible Cars - Puck
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#2 Die, trendy die - pixy
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#3 Them - pixy
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#4 The Drug User's Cookbook - styx
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#5 Message Box [311] - pixy
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#6 Enough - pixy
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#7 The Uninterupted Tale of Thomas Wyatt - Puck
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#8 Why I hate dto, With love - pixy
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#9 Untitled - Sir Robin
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#10 Them Fun BBS's - Maureen, lb, pixy, Puck
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Invisible Cars
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Puck
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So she was a poet,
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yes,
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in the sense that she had certain books
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published. Certain books
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and
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certain poems.
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But she wore dark nylons
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and crossed her legs.
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She didn't understand that
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if cars were all invisible,
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we'd look pretty silly
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just zooming up and down the
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street
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like that.
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So she was a poet,
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yes,
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in the sense that she had published
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certain books.
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----->
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Die trendy, die
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pixy
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When I was little I had the most bizarre thoughts. I would play with
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my Barbie dolls all day long. My blue eyes glazed over, my blond hair in
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pigtails with Mickey and Minnie mouse holding them in place.
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I would be lost in thought playing so intensely with that fake
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haired, hard plastic, painted on featured doll. Her moves, thoughts, and
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clothing choices were all my doing. But I would stop and think "what if
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we, humans, were just like Barbie and Ken dolls?" Yeah, sure we can bend
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at the joints, we have mushy surfaces, and some of us are pretty damned
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ugly.
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Just stop and think about that.
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Well, the older I got, the more I saw that we _are_ like dolls. Our
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thoughts and actions are very much influenced by others.
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"du0d, red hair dye is so uncool, maybe like a week ago you were cool
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but _now_?!@#"
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I admit that I am a follower and not a leader. But there is someone
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who went too far in categorizing me by saying "you owe your personality to
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me." There is still little bits and pieces of the real me left. It wasn't
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all eaten up by trendiness. Someday I will gain my whole self back, but
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for now I am a typical teenager.
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But where do you rank? Take the trendy lamer quiz.
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1) Are you a teenager?
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2) Are you and your best friend clones of each other?
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3) Do you try to match your outfit to what Jenny McCarthy wore on the
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last Singled Out?
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4) Do you go places because you heard the "cool group" was going to
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be there?
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5) Do you listen to a band and like them but suddenly stop listening
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because people say they suck?
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If you answered yes to one or more of these questions then you are a
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lame trendy loser and should get your own personality, moron. If you said
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no to them all you probably are still a trendy. You're on irc, no?
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Loser!@#
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Being trendy is a fact of life with growing up in the United States.
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Other countries go more with their ancestry and shit. But we go with
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what's cool. That's how it goes I suppose. Someday we all will be real;
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granted, we'll be old and gray, running around the house with our pants
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pulled up to our chest; but we will finally be ourselves.
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----->
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Them
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pixy
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I hate this place. I know I am becoming weaker and dying because of
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it. But I can't leave. I know that the world will keep spinning if I am
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not here. I would still like to believe it wouldn't. Maybe that's why I
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didn't go away to school. Maybe that's why I end things before they can
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take me away.
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I hate this place and all it scars me with. They made me who I am.
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They gave me these eyes that no longer tear. They twisted my soul like a
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kinked garden hose. I blame them for every scar. She'll say she's
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perfect while calling me crazy. He'll be in his t.v. set gaze as I try to
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speak.
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I hate this place. It is why I have tried to drain myself of the
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evil. It is why I scream into the morning hours. I stay away like a
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vampire, searching for something to make me alive again, or to make the
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scars fade. Just as the sun rises I creep into bed, ending the search for
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that day. Tomorrow I will start again.
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It is why I lost my dreams. As I dread the coming wake, I see
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nothing. My body sleeping but mind is blank of which should be filled
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with pretend movies. Movies that only return when I am away from here.
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But I still feel homesick when I am away. It's not because I miss them or
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this place, but because I miss her, my 'daughter,' my niece.
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I hate this place because every day I have to try to make a fake
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identity. I have already failed at that. I have tried to lead an online
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life that would hide who I really am. But it's come out like I am a slut,
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or a bitch, or whatever. 'Sticks and stones may break my bones but names
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will never hurt me.' But if I can come off like a bitch, maybe no one
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will mess with me. Maybe one day everything will be o.k.
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Keep hiding who you are. Keep pretending it's o.k., maybe someday
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you'll love yourself enough to not want to grab a razor. This slow death
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will have to do because there has to be just one who loves you. Just one
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who will miss you. Just one who won't say 'you suck.' To that one: I
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love you.
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----->
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The Drug User's Cookbook
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styx
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this is for those of you who want to do drugs but are too piss-poor
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to buy them. most people aren't aware that you can simulate the effects
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of any drug with common household items. however, i have listed only the
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more popular drugs. if you need any information on how to simulate the
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effects of a drug that isn't included here, feel free to email me at
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styx@magicbus.com. i guarantee a response.
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1. LSD
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you'll need : can of gasoline, hammer
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minor requisites : trophies from extra-curricular sports activities in
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high school, pink floyd albums
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instructions: put on a pink floyd album. huff the gasoline rapidly for
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30 seconds without stopping. when you're finished, take
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the hammer and slam it into your skull until your head is
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a mangled mass of bloody pulp. now you are having an
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intense acid trip.
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warning: if you don't kill yourself, you'll wake up mentally retarded in
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the morning.
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2. marijuana
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you'll need : rolling papers, dirt, modem
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minor requisites : birkenstocks, grateful dead albums, rolling machine
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instructions: put on a grateful dead album. take some dirt and roll it
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up with a piece of rolling paper into a cigarette (if you
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are very stupid and cannot do this, use the rolling
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machine). smoke it. when you are finished, go online,
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hold your breath, and cross your eyes while you type.
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annoy everybody. when your face feels hot and you've lost
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all of your cyberfriends, you are really stoned.
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warning: if you don't kill yourself, you'll wake up mentally retarded in
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the morning.
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3. mushrooms
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you'll need : meat cleaver, broken kaleidescope
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minor requisites : older brother, mustang 5.0
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instructions: slice off all of your toes with the meat cleaver. when
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your legs start to tingle from loss of blood, stare into
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the broken kaleidescope for 15 minutes (20 if you're fat).
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when you begin to lose consciousness, write insightful
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poetry (quickly). now you are shrooming.
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warning: if you wake up in the morning, you didn't follow directions.
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4. cocaine
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you'll need : coffee, pixie sticks, dr. pepper, chocolate
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minor requisites : rich jewish parents, white college hat
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instructions: drink 10 cups of coffee, eat 10 pixie sticks, guzzle 10
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cans of dr. pepper, and eat a lot of chocolate. when you
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start to bleed out of your eyes, go hang out by the
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payphones at your local 7-11. ask everybody for cigarette
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money. throw tantrums. when you end up behind the
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dumpster with bootmarks on your face, and you're trembling
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too much to get on your feet, you are all coked up.
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warning: if you don't kill yourself, you'll wake up mentally retarded in
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the morning.
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5. heroin
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you'll need : paint, paintbrush, canvas, lack of sleep
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minor requisites : small dirty apartment, velvet underground albums
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instructions: put on velvet underground. paint pictures of naked people
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until you're so tired you start vomiting. after you vomit
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everything and you just dry heave, shit and piss all over
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yourself. now you are fucked up on heroin.
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warning: if you don't kill yourself, i'll do it for you.
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6. quaaludes
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you'll need : physically abusive father, draino
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minor requisites : no friends, syd barrett albums
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instructions: listen to syd barrett for an hour. when you're finished,
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kick your dad in the head so he starts beating the shit
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out of you. if he stops, kick him in the head again so he
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continues beating the shit out of you. repeat until the
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pain detector in your brain shuts down from overload. now
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wait for your dad to stop beating the shit out of you.
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when he's finished, crawl to the kitchen and guzzle draino
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until you can't breathe. now you are fucked up on ludes.
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warning: if you don't kill yourself, you'll wake up mentally retarded in
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the morning.
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if some items listed are not found in your household, there's something
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wrong with you and your family. do not request information on ways to
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simulate nitrous or i will hunt you down and smoke you.
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i take no responsibility for the consequences of your actions. the
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warnings are included for a reason.
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----->
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Message Box [311]
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pixy
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Illinois Bell and plastic combs.
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Mirror glances. Fearing the moans.
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Living for free.
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Lighting that cigarette off that burning family tree.
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"I promise to love you forever... or, until I change my mind."
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"I saw your soul on the el tracks today."
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"Did you ever just think? Because I hate you and you never thought about it."
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"The naked world rules."
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What is a guido sanchez? If anyone can fill me in on the details of this
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person, place, or thing I am willing to pay BIG bucks. mail u311 with
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info.
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End [311]
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----->
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Enough
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pixy
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I see you again
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and it's back.
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The weakness is back,
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the control you have over me.
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Oh baby, you'll never know.
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Fade away, I'd say.
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Those bright eyes,
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so bright they make me blind.
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So bright I can't see that you don't love me.
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But I like pretending all the same.
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Such a game we play.
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I can't justify the hate,
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but it's love.
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This contradiction, my confusion.
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Just fade away, I'd say.
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Oh baby, you'll never know,
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control, so easily over me.
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Never known the control.
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----->
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The Uninterrupted Tale of Thomas Wyatt
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Puck
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Thomas Wyatt always thought
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his life was a dead-end loss.
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He worked all day in his dead-end job
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and he fought with his dead-end boss.
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Until, one day it dawned on him
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as he stared into the sink;
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He looked his boss right in the eye
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and said, "Be right back, I need to think."
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Thomas went home and thought for hours,
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hours melted into days.
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For weeks and weeks he searched and searched,
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so meticulous in his ways.
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The people of his town began to worry,
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his boss even said,
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"Mr. Wyatt's not shows up for work,
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I fear he's dead!"
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The newspaper arrived
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to get an interview with Tom,
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But nobody could get inside,
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not even Tom's old Mom.
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The doors were locked, the shades were shut.
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So cloaked in mystery
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was Thomas's goal, his lawn became
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a home for NewsTV.
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People everywhere began
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to wonder about this bunk
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that the news was spreading
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bout the thoughts that Thomas thunk.
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The business man, the working man,
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they came from far away,
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with the tiny glint of hope they might
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hear what Thomas had to say.
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For ten whole years the people waited
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to hear what he might say
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as he stepped out of his shadowed house
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to greet the light of day.
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For ten whole years the world's attention
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pointed at Tom's door,
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For ten whole years the children wore
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the shoes that Thomas wore.
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But ten years of waiting was not very fun
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and quickly became quite a bore.
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the numbers of people camped on his lawn
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grumbled and vehemently swore,
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"We're tired of this. Will he ever come out?
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What can he be doing in there?"
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And just as they were about to leave,
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out crept some bones and some hair.
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Out crept some bones and some hair, for Thomas
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had not eaten so well.
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His eyes were buggy, his nails were long,
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and he sported that "ten-year old" smell.
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He was not wearing clothing, 'cept maybe his glasses,
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But nobody seemed to care:
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There wasn't much chance of being exposed
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when covered with ten years of hair.
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It was then that the silence which covered the land
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was broken, a noise rather cross;
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as a pudgy man shoved people away with his hand,
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Thomas's ten-year ex-boss.
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"Ok, Thomas, what's the deal? Why have you kept us ten years?
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This better be good, this better be great!"
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And the people broke out into tears.
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"What have you learned? What can you teach?"
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begged the impatient crowd.
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Thomas squinted and waved his hand,
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"Please, not so loud.
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I'll tell what I've learned, I'll teach what I can,
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and I promise you it's worth your while.
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Ten years have I thought, Ten years have I sought,"
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Thomas explained with a smile.
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He raised his long finger high above his head,
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and into the sun's blazing light.
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He started to speak, but his eyes looked confused,
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"Oh wait, no, that's not right.
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No, that's not right at all," Thomas said,
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and the crowd was as still as a mouse.
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"Sorry to keep you, but I've got it all wrong."
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He turned back into his house.
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"I'll just be a little while, I promise,
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and next time I'll have it all right.
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It seems I forgot to carry some digits,
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(I get kind of careless some nights.)"
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With this Thomas shut and re-locked his door,
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and fell dead, having tripped on his hair;
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unseen by the people camped out on his lawn.
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As far as I know, they're still there.
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----->
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Why I hate dto
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With love,
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pixy
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O.K. dto sucks!@# Why? Why, you ask? Let's start with the 'inner
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circle' retards. First off the 'top' man mogel (he's probably really a
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bottom man <wink><wink>). Well, mogel nags me every other freaking day to
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write for dto and I always say no, why? DTO SUCKS!@# So, if little Mikey
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asks me one more time I'll shove his precious ramen noodles into his
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penis, dry. I'd say 5 or so cause that's gotta be thick enough to cause
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pain.
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"you'd have to touch it then!@#!@#"
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SIMMER DOWN, GOOSHY!@#
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Moving along... ahh jamesy, my best friend, the one who asked me to
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write this. Well... he's a cocksucker, always will be, but I love him
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anyway (yes, I have a fucker fetish coughgweedscough). So, I of course
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told jamesy to shove it when he asked me, cause it was for dto, but I
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decided to write it anyway. What do I have to lose? If it doesn't get
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into dto then oh well (which it won't and you'll read it in BELONG, my
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zine ;))
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Finally, murmur. I don't know what his deal is. So, he does bucket.
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I've never read it, and I don't think I ever will. Butts! That's all I
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have to say about that. (Like my Forrest Gump impression?)
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(If I forgot any other 'inner circle' fags, sorry! I'm sure you
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wanted to be a part of my rip. You just must not have pissed me off.
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SMOOCHIES!@#)
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Enough of that.
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Now, the "quality control." Totally understandable for a great zine
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like dto!@#... but what they pick out as good sucks ass. Possibly just a
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few issues back I would have said:
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"du0d, dto rules! If dto had a penis I'd suck it!" (believe you me,
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sucking dick isn't my favorite thing to do).
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But as of late they've been getting sloppy. Maybe all the writers
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have writer's block and can't help it and this has been the best stuff but
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I don't believe that. I know there are good writers out there. So, it's
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THEM.
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You getting all this? o.k., good. Do you see how evil dto is? Stop
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being brainwashed!@# Love ya lots!
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----->
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Untitled
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Sir Robin
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I found the one I love today,
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Just sitting over there.
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I went up to the one I love today,
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and we sat there.
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I talked to the one I love today,
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as we sat there.
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Then I found the one I love today,
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as they were playing.
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And when I said "I love you" to the one I love today,
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The one I love today said "I love you too!"
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----->
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Them Fun BBS's
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Maureen, lb, pixy, Puck
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Welcome to the Chicago MatchMaker
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You may possibly match with 39,002 men and 4,208 women on the network!
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-> What is your sex?
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+> Female
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-> What is your sexual preference?
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+> Bisexual
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-> How old are you?
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+> 18
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-> Have you had, or would you consider having a homosexual experience?
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+> I am homophobic.
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-> Finally, why did you call?
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+> Scouting out for swinging couples
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Try to describe the type of person you might be interested in meeting?
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(either romantically or platonically)
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->someone with home and also a comb
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->i prefer he have some hair and clean underwear
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->he likes to eat white rice and doesn't have head lice
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->lice, i mean tick and he better not be a spic
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->he has no open sores he likes to hang with whores
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->he cannot be a gimp and he better be a pimp
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->he likes loiter and has a big goiter
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->he likes to rant and preforms sexual transplants
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->he very open hearted his children are retarded
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Describe your personality type? What type are you attracted to?
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->i like abusive people who can get it up and knows the value of a good
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->leather mask but no slanty eyed people
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What's the FIRST thing others notice about you?
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->my goiter
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Where have you met most of your current friends?
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->i met them in jail
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What type of work do you do and are you enjoying it?
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->i am a prostitute and i love it
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Name some of your favorite Singers and Bands ?
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->I like them bums who play in the subway especially yodeling zeke
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What were your favorite toys as a child?
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-> my mommy's happy stick
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Do you collect anything? (e.g. stamps, coins, dust, losers)
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->used condoms (preferably with the cum still in it)
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If you have any pets, what are they and what are their names?
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->flecity and lucifer, they are my finger friends
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If you could pick a super-human power what would you choose?
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->to set fire to peoples and the plastic mans penis
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Have you ever accomplished anything that got your name on television, in a
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magazine, etc? What was it you did?
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->Guiness Book of World Records: chicken raping (I raped 2270 chickens)
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Do you belong to any organizations/clubs/teams?
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->I belong to the Black Panthers, the neo-aryans, NAAWP (National
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->Association of Advancement of White People), and PETA (People Eating
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->Tasty Animals)
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Write your own personal ad as it would appear in the personal section of a
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newspaper?
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->5'1" 85lbs
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->baby, i got back
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->I am HIV+ but enjoy unprotected sex
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What are some of your lifelong goals?
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->I hope to find a dumpster with a lid or a cardboard box that is water
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->proof. I would also like to participate in the crack baby javelin throw.
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Is there anything about you that the questionnaire didn't cover?
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->that's everything, I hope you love me!@#
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----->
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All articles are property of the writer, used with permission. If anyone
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gets any stupid ideas from this zine, then you are a fucking retard. I
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nor any of the writers take responsiblity.
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Submit to pixy@wwti.iway.net. If your writing sucks, don't bother or I
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will put it in anyway for a good laugh. (yes, my articles are for a good
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laugh).
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