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========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 00:06:12 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
Comments: Look Away! Look Away! Look Away! Look Away!
From: "(ol' grubnub)" <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: Businessslug's Extended Lunch (vermouth, versooth)
>WHAT KIND OF WRETCHED LIFE DO YOU LEAD, FER CHRISSAKES?!?
>WE'RE FRIENDLY HERE, AREN'T WE? WHAT THE HELL? WHAT THE HELL?
Yer namesake should learn to answer the bloody phone, churker. In
the realm of pressure cooked shoeless walks in the sand, though,
I should add that my time was far too puppettered this most recent
duck through to even look up people who have PINs to get into the
cheating bunker, even if I change 'em without advance warning,
just to keep things from getting too complacent.
But yer right, indeedy-doo; even when, under siege in the lore of
"die-cast-off-fetters" pamphleters, or when cuthy gets the ITCH
and HAS to do the DEED or else THEY WILL PUNISH him (hee hee it
especially good when willy lies in corner with bear with stuffing
coming out gnawing on own flesh hee hee we like we like WE LIKE)
and causes us all loads of open gaping ulcers like the brown
recluse that he isn't lest we should be able to recognize him, we
are after all still on civilities. Which is why I extend an open
invitation to sbrhymers to crash at my place any time we happen to
be in the same city; just don't eat those aluminum foiled-gelatins
in the fridge and LEAVE the CAT aLONE (ha, I could be a DIvine
MASter), water the plants, except for the one with the black armband
with Superman's initials, it's being punished, and don't forget to
tape the weather channel, editing out all the naughty parts, that's
great; oh, and the heat doesn't work, and there's a problem with
the pilot light which accounts for some of the smell. The bunker'll
be folding up the card tables and hitting the road soon: look for
our shows in Vegas, San Jose, Chicago, Dublin (OH, sorry, m'dear),
and maybe Houston if I've no choice in the matter. Sorry, but
addresses have not yet been scheduled, which is an agony.
But, Yarker, trust me: you keep mistaking yerself for one of us,
and you'll find yourself the only one to experience the Rapture.
>If you look up a number, you must call it, or die, like li'l whatshisname,of
>ennui.
That'd be Neville, and that's what I'm talking 'bout, boister. (I had
the chance to get some ready cash if I could have recited it backwards,
but declined, cause I forget what letter comes before I. (Like Hell...)
>140 Circulation,
>alp
Hey, does this mean you have to deal with Henshaw? Are the rumours
I've heard true? Tell him Jeff said hello (no, he won't know what
yer talking 'bout, though we'll take care of it later).
WRETCHED IS RIGHT. WRTCHD S RGHT. THGR S DHCTRW. THEGR SE DIHCITRW.
"Mother, may I call my good friend Arthur?" "The one with the
cheerleader? I don't think your father would approve of that..."
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmatyrservice
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 00:44:28 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "Dktr. Subtilis" <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: Blue Moon / You took a bite from my heart ...
> Jesus Christ, what's happened
>to your BRAIN, boy?
Er, am I wrong, or isn't it half-coating in a slightly crusted state
the side of the men's room stall where it was blown out? Sorry I only
got half of it out, that's Tim's fault; he still hasn't figured out
how to use the McUzi to full effect, and I had to enlist his help,
even unwittingly. (The Colonel remains at large.)
Dazzle you with pyrotechnics? Oh, no, terribly sorry, you must have
me confused with someone who's more exacting about having the t's
crossed. I merely wished to relate What I Did On My Flurry Of A
Vac(Ill)ation. Your reading things into it, dear boy. That part
about my leaving basalt in yr basement was not really in the original.
You need a rest, Willy. Here, lie down, I'll just fold these straps
over like this so you don't worry about falling out of bed. Comfy?
Good, I hope so. We like it like that.
[Aside: having failed in my singular charge (out on Everclear) to
obtain an autographed photo of alp in the stance of a Folk Star, the
blue guitar straddling his lotus-folded locust limbs, I wonder if you
think I could send her y'know HER a photo of Link Wray instead and
if she'd notice the substitution.]
All proceeds to go to your favorite churlish wonder. (Hey, Willy:
y'wanna see me ... bunt?)
urk.
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 01:03:05 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(queue cue)" <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: *SNORT*
said Norton.
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 01:20:39 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder, but not really)"<cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: Vicar Gets His Scars On The Pavement
A-hem (*cough*).
"Once upon a time, there was a Vicar who loved to romp
through the mountains, leaping from rock to rock and
having great fun. One day, as he was about to begin
his run, he heard the ground beneath his feet complaining
that it hated Vicars, that it found the sounds
of his feet clicking against the rocks all day an
intolerable nuisance and that it saw no reason to continue to support
such a wastrel. And with that the ground gave way beneath the
hapless Vicar, who was never seen again.
The End."
Indeed.
(with apogies and anomies to Allan, aka Daddy MC Processor KSR 1) M
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 01:25:49 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
Comments: Good to see you again, Tim; can I buy you a pint?
From: "(ukelelelelelelorelei)" <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: Re: cow eats dog whole! details inside!
Pushing the eye back into it's socket, Mayor McCheese was deeply
impressed with his own work and felt that spill-over of pride that
he tried to disown from memories of his schooling stridencies,
but there was no denying that the effigy was superb. He felt a
shudder of apprehension when he realized his gloved thumb was
sticking into the Clown's eye, and he had to remind himself of the
dummy's nonsentience so as to continue the work. Tomorrow, there
would be the flames, and his work would be destroyed; he frowned
over the apparent futility and paradox in putting so much effort
into what would be but a goad to cause the pogrom to issue forth.
But, still, it was a damn good job, he had to admit, as he checked
the chalk skin tone against the lifesize cardboard cutout.
As he turned to grab the red, almost orange, hair from the then-bald
stand, he failed to notice the effigy's grin get ever-so-slightly
wider.
M
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 11:16:10 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBWCA
Subject: Re: Blue Moon / You took a bite from my heart ...
In-Reply-To: Message of Thu,
24 Sep 1992 00:44:28 GMT from <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
On Thu, 24 Sep 1992 00:44:28 GMT Dktr. Subtilis said:
>
>[Aside: having failed in my singular charge (out on Everclear) to
>obtain an autographed photo of alp in the stance of a Folk Star, the
>blue guitar straddling his lotus-folded locust limbs, I wonder if you
>think I could send her y'know HER a photo of Link Wray instead and
>if she'd notice the substitution.]
>
Frankie Lane would be better. Arthur looks quite a bit like Frankie
Lane, nothing at all like Link Wray. The unfortunate thing is that,
due to a variety of atmospheric anomalies and character flaws, Arthur
does not show up on film; at least, not the kind you can buy at Eckerd's.
Run along now, sunshine- we got an invasi... er, a Barbeque to plan.
Willy the Shake
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 11:23:54 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBWCA
Subject: BABY, LET ME TAKE YOU ON A C CRUISE
Around here, we don't talk about McCheese much anymore. We turned him
in '59, about the time we made our first move against the Clown, but
he wasn't much help. He sobbed a lot, and whimpered, and accussed us
of holding back the Good Stuff- which of course we were; who waste`s
the Good Stuff on a cringing, snuffling jelly-head? We finally had to
hook him up to the altenator in Arthur's Chevy, and he didn't last long,
what with the weak membrane's and all. We flushed him before he dropped,
though, and the damn Clown found him, and it took another twenty years
to play out that ugly little episode. Thank God the Hamburglar stayed
bought.
Cuthbert
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 12:00:00 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBALP
Subject: Mr. Spanky
has personally tasted the thumb of every fifth-column pinko wingydingy.
Did I think I was one of somebody? Did I?
Visualize Cuthbert and Henshaw in the same room. Think about "PublicService."
If I said "cryptic" . . . you are cryptic . . .
ap
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 13:48:02 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBWCA
Subject: BY FORCE OF HABIT I AM AN INSECT
The Clown catches a deep, rasping breath, and gently crushes the head
of the cartoon mouse crouching between his legs. "Is this all there
is?" he thinks. He tries to clear his mind, then spots the blood on
his long, white fingers and absently wipes it on the silk sheets. His
thoughts drift to his time, so long ago, at Hamburger U.; happy, halcyon
days, when he was just one of the boys, dreaming and scheming with
the others. McCheese, brave and clear-headed, and the greasy, gangrenous
little fry-cook they'd christened the Hamburglar after he showed up in
Milkshake 206 one afternoon with Ray Kroc's push-up bra around his neck
like an ascot. He thinks of the plans they made then, and of how they
all came true, and he thinks of the brilliant, joyous bursts of animal
clarity he'd been able to call forth almost at will; the last one almost
ten years ago now, fading to a black hum as he squatted over the
dismembered corpse of the bloated, flatulent ragdoll he'd called Wendy.
He knows it's slipping, careening wildly out of control, and none of it
means much to him anymore: not the money, not the power, not even the
mindless, poorly-animated groupies eager to share his every disease.
Still, he can't help but regret the shattered husk of McCheese, roaming
the halls in a sobbing stupor, calling for stray beef; and he can't help
wondering what might have happened to the Hamburglar, who hasn't been
seen on the grounds in days. He can't help wishing that the latest
shipment of Special Sauce would arrive, and he can't help, frantically,
trying to get the smell of old semen out of the floppy shoes. He
can't help grasping at straws.
But he knows it's too late.
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 23:52:21 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU
Subject: Rollo Amongst the Armenians
>Did I think I was one of somebody? Did I?
>Visualize Cuthbert and Henshaw in the same room. Think about "PublicService."
'Nuff said, I get the picture. Color Me Frightened.
Yes, I think you might have thought that at one time. It happens, don't
fret it.
Until Bobby McFerrin and Diamanda Galas team up to record "Baby, It's
Cold Outside", Make Mine Marvel! (I've always wanted to say that.)
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 25 Sep 1992 00:21:42 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU
Subject: I HAVE TO CONFESS I'M PROUD AS HELL OF THAT FACT
The rotovator, in such a state of disuse that it couldn't be operated,
made Grimace to feel reproached for his complicity in allowing things
to arrive at the state they had reached. Grimace bobbled slightly up
and down, unable to do much more because of the girth which had only
gotten worth since he had been forcibly retired, and muttered "How was
I supposed to know?" All the objects in this area of McDonaldland also
seemed to ask the same question: Where were you, Grimace? The styrofoam
bridge seemed to convulse with anger, and the painted sunset which hung
over the path he'd been walking, remaining always 20 feet from Grimace's
back, burned it's cancerous ire into his purple back. Grimace moved
faster, now, though blindly; his eyes burned from the lack of moisture
as he had allowed the tears to fall freely, and the area beneath his
mouth, where the chin would be if his head had muscles to move it
separately from his body, was cracked and chipped a deep indigo from
the paths the tears had taken. It's not my fault, he thought, a meek
attempt to reassure himself, they told me I wouldn't be needed as much
as they were ceasing their flavour-of-the-month shakes ... the choice
they had given him was even now so distasteful that he raised one of
his too-short-arms straight up in the air and attempted to wave away
the memory. He was aware that gravel was flying before him, and he
thought for a moment they had found him, but, upon looking, he saw
the flying fillets. "Hurry!" they shouted at him, and, for the first
time in many days' time, Grimace allowed himself to feel somewhat safe.
Then, reaching the top of the hill, he could see over it, down into
the rivulet below where a orange mass flowed imperceptively, he suddenly
knew what that smell had been, and he stopped, hit full force by the
sudden realization of why the Clown had not been allowed to call them
%milk%-shakes for so many years...
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 25 Sep 1992 01:09:17 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
Comments: Do you mind, Robert? See,
Comments: I've always wanted to work for the Govt.
From: "(WHIPLASH)" <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: Balmy Injun Joe Left At Twelve (Seeking World War One)
In the seek, the fire remains! Even should it be emberring from
the tip of the cig machine which they meant to cart away several
months ago but somehow managed to overlook when several of the
pugilants stood before it displaying the Love/Hate tattooes they'd
stencilled on just for the momentous occasion, it being the first
Fall day of this year that is measured in the cartons spread out
against the sky, orange fog and all that, which cuts more and more
into the food stamps and petty&selfish cash which subsidies the
continued existance of even the greatest and unchallenged of
abacus operators. It is, Robert, an acrimony stretch to hope for
working numerators, and I'm pleased that yr here to make me wish
I had a rhyming dictionary. Not a slam, not even in the brittle
textures of the wee hours of teenyvision arcing a weld over this
high, wide, and spanking continent. Now, tell us, gently, what
you plan to do to make certain that each and every American
receives his or her share of methyl isocyanate (Labor Pains: I'm a
Carbide-carrying Union member) to sprinkle on our corn flakes, and
I'll vote for ya.
M
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 24 Sep 1992 22:28:00 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: JBURKE1
Subject: Re: BY FORCE OF HABIT I AM AN INSECT
Late is a word only used by the weak. It was a motto, albiet a poor one,but
what else was a poor fry-guy to do. Grossly underpaid and mostly naked,save
for a pair of generic and stinking Hi-Tops, it was hard to make a living thesedays.
You can only get so much work when all you can do is shove a broomhandle
into your deep-fried rectum and pick up lint. Hope was only a painting that
hung in the bathroom of "the Mayor's" hide-away. Those were the days whenyou
could let your dread-locked body move to the beat of an overinflated,androgene
with no elbows playing the ribcage of a fleshed out cow. It was the grass,you
thought, or even the way the Clown ran his fingers over your ego.
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 25 Sep 1992 00:35:04 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBWCA
Subject: MY OWN BELATED BABY,BABY,BABY
I note that I am behatted.
Or so she said.
Hyperbole, of course. I am rarely behatted these days, as the Hair
Club for Men advises against it; and I am, after all, a client.
However, should the Cubed One fail, I volunteer to make for Hope A.
GreenPerson's child yet a second ickle rattle. I shall denature the
gunpowder, naturally, to avoid cataclysm.
Cuthbert also sends his greetings, T.E.
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 25 Sep 1992 09:07:00 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: JBURKE1
Subject: Onward Crispy Soilders
Today, I go onwards towards a more delicate heaviness. I realizethat
my engine might fail, my bag might fall apart and, even possibly, my abilityto
speak in metaphor might vanish. Still, I dare to put a stinking footforward
for the sake of getting something I want-such a daring and litteraryprospect!
Was is God who once said, "Th...th...th..that's all Folks" or was it just
another person with just one name and a big reputation (it's amazing how farone
can get these days if you capitolize)? Fuck me off into thine ownbreath.
Tear my skin with your words. Glance disgustingly at my head. I don't carefor
today I leave those vacant sons-of-Iches to scratch my own back andpossibly
get a free ride.
the cole sores and apple pie! (Hoag)
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 25 Sep 1992 09:07:35 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: Yes Virginia, there is a Sumner Redstone
(writ in its own hand last night IN the yuppie bar in a cold sweat)
One more beer & I'll be fine really. This guy next to me says,
"Did you see 'Boyz n the Hood'?" wait, lemme backup.
"Ruby Tuesdays". Wife at college library. Came to mall to spend
gift certificate from wedding last saturday. GOT the change FROM
the gift certificate, WENT to yuppie bar to purchase alcohol.
Succeeded. Remember trying to score alcohol? Ah, the sweet gauzy
scenes of youth. Anyways, scumbag jerkoff in white shirt & tie
asks scumbag friend "Did you SEE boys in the hood?". Other scumbag
loser with big cashwad starts going off about "hey, I ain't paying
money for that shit! let 'em get their handouts from someone else!"
etc. etc.
Out came the machine gun.
The MG34.
The finest squad arm the Wehrmacht ever had. Hiram Maxim got
nothin on me. It's a belt fed gun, so I nudge the fella next to
me, "Hey, Buddy, you feed this belt for me?" "Yeah, sure! Fear
the gov't that fears your gun, right?" and off we went.
We're talkin high velocity fun here my fellow americans, and for
those of you without the pleasure, get yourself a visa, come on
over to the land of easy guns and cheap ammo and SHOOT SOME SHIT UP!
You'll be glad you did!
Late for the wife, Jeapordy-with-no-volume over now here in the
bar, George Bushs' lizard face fills the screen. Sirens in the
distance. I step away from the one spot in the bar not sticky
with human grease & liquid. I need a vacation. But then, after
all, this IS the next best thing.
MEANWHILE,
Sumner Redstone, multibillionare, former WWII codebreaker and all
around swell guy sits back and owns MTV. Hi Sumner, my name is
Robert and I represent the Helping Hands Acceptance Corporation...
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 25 Sep 1992 13:09:00 -05
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: no comment
_____________________.
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1992 16:01:00 -05
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: Susannah's A Funny Old Man
honk!
'Lo There, I'm a new character up which you may size, chew and (out)
spit the bones! Hello! Hey there! Hiya Little Feller!
The name's Brown, Bee Are Oh Dubya En, Brown. Anus Brown. My friends
all call me Anus, but you can call me anything you want, long's you
call me to dinner! Hee hee!
I just LOVE saying that!
Well, by dingos, someone's already a-beepin!
Now That's What I Call Friendly!
I'll Talk At You More Later,
Anus
Anus Brown
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1992 16:39:00 -05
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: Susannah, Pt.2
Well, shoot. That wasn't nobody but that d*mn Louella Jones's kid,
coming round asking about do I have some jumper cables, Mam-Maw's
having one of her spells again! And he comes in without my even asting
him to and sets down on the rocker and knocks my spit cup on my brand
new Hanes! Hadn't even finished unwrapping them yet! D*mn kid!
I killed him. Blew his f**l head clean off his shoulders.
Well, it's yabba dabba do time.
Talk At Ya'll Tomorrow.
Oh Shoot. I just remembered. I won't be here tomorrow.
Poor Anus Has Only Got A 5-Hour Life Span,
Ta Ta
and
Toot Toot,
Anus
Anus Brown
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1992 18:30:23 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: net etiquette humor #7,562
couldn't help myself, sorry. :-) (no flames, please)
robert h
====================================================================
Newsgroups: news.groups
Subject: How to Properly Post
Date: 24 May 88 09:54:09 GMT
The USENET Guide to Power Posting
1. Conspiracies abound: If everyone's against you, the reason
can't *possibly* be that you're a fuckhead. There's obviously
a conspiracy against you, and you will be doing the entire
net a favor by exposing it. Be sure to mention the CIA, FBI
Oliver North and the Army as co-conspiritors.
2. Lawsuit threats: This is the reverse of Rule #1. Threatening a
lawsuit is always considered to be in good form. "By saying that
I've posted to the wrong group, Charlie has libeled me, slandered
me, and sodomized me. See you in court, Charlie."
3. Force them to document their claims: Even if Jane Jones
states outright that she has menstrual cramps, you should demand
documentation. If Newsweek hasn't written an article on Jane's
cramps, then Jane's obviously lying.
4. Use foreign phrases: French is good, but Latin is the lingua franca
of USENET. You should use the words "ad hominem" at least three
times per article. Other favorite Latin phrases are "ad nauseam",
"vini, vidi, vici", "E Pluribus Unum" and "fetuccini alfredo".
5. Tell 'em how smart you are: Why use intelligent arguments to
convince them you're smart when all you have to do is tell them?
State that you're a member of Mensa or Mega or Dorks of America.
Tell them the scores you received on every exam since high school.
"I got an 800 on my SATs, LSATs, GREs, MCATs, and I can also spell
the word 'premeiotic' ".
6. Be an armchair psychologist: You're a smart person. You've heard of
Freud. You took a psychology course in college. Clearly, you're
qualified to psychoanalyze your opponent. "Polly Purebread, by
using the word 'zucchini' in her posting, shows she has a bad case
of penis envy."
7. Accuse your opponent of censorship. It is your right as an American
citizen to post whatever the hell you want to the net (as guaranteed
by the 37th Amendment, I think). Anyone who tries to limit your
cross-posting or move a flame war to email is either a Communist, a
fascist, or both.
8. Doubt their existence: You've never actually seen your opponent,
have you? And since you're the center of the universe, you should
have seen them by now, shouldn't you? Therefore, THEY DON'T EXIST!
Call'em an AI project, to really piss them off.
9. Laugh at whatever they write. A good "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
should intimidate just about anyone.
10. When in doubt, insult: If you forget the other rules, remember
this one. At some point during your wonderful career on USENET
you will undoubtedly end up in a flame war with someone who is
better than you. This person will expose your lies, tear apart your
arguments, make you look generally like a bozo. At this point,
there's only one thing to do: insult the dirtbag!!! "Oh yeah?
Well, you do strange things with vegetables."
11. And, if all else fails, remember that you can always fall back on the
favorite defense of Soc.women: "Who cares what YOU think -- this
is Soc.WOMEN!". Add "DAMMIT!" for effect.
12. Be sure to have a cute signature that proclaims that you are a man
basher. No one will respect you unless it's clear that you hate
men.
13. Call'em a "Pman" if you can't think of anything. Tell the
linguists to stuff it -- YOU know a diminutive when you see it.
14. Make things up about your opponent: It's important to make your lies
sound true. Preface your argument with the word "clearly."
"Clearly, Fred Flooney is a liar, and a dirtball to boot."
15. Cross-post your article: Everyone on the net is just waiting for
the next literary masterpiece to leave your terminal. From
rec.arts.wobegon to alt.gourmand, they're all holding their breaths
until your next flame. Therefore, post everywhere.
16. Use the smiley to your advantage. You can call anyone just about
anything as long as you include the smiley. On really nasty attacks
add "No flames, please". When they bitch, call them an ass for not
being able to recognize sarcasm when they see it.
17. Threaten to destroy Soc.men if your opponent refuses to give up.
This at least gives you an appearance of power, even if nobody on
the net gives a damn about what goes on in soc.men.
18. Should you post something exceedingly stupid and later regret it, don't
worry. You needn't cancel the article. That only shows what a wimp
you really are. Deny that you ever sent it. "It must be a
forgery!" (Yea, that's the ticket, it's a forgery!) "Someone broke
into my account and sent it!" "It's that damn backbone cabal out to
get me!" Take your pick, they've all been used before.
19. A really cheap shot is to call you opponent a "facist". By itself, it
really does nothing. But, when used often, and in enough articles,
it can make you a net-legend.
20. And finally, never edit your newsgroup line when following up (unless
you're expanding it). This drives 'em wild. Be sure to follow up as
many articles as possible, even if you have nothing to say. The
important thing is to get "exposure" so that you can be called a
"regular" in your pet newsgroup. Never change the ">" symbol when
following up; that's for wimps. Dump a hundred lines of "INEWS FODDER"
in every article.
Now that you know the ways to properly post on USENET, let's try
an example:
In article <1452@sab.ck>, Bill Netter writes:
> Dear Sally,
I object to your use of the word "dear". It shows you are a
condescending, sexist Pman. Also, the submissive tone you use shows
that you like to be tied down and flagellated with licorice whips.
> While I found your article "The Effect of Lint on Western Thought"
> to be extremely thought-provoking,
"Thought-provoking"? I had no idea you could think, you rotting piece
of swamp slime. :-) (No flames, please)
> it really shouldn't have been
> posted in Soc.women.
What? Are you questioning my judgment? I'll have you know that I'm
a member of the super-high-IQ society Menstruate. I got an 800 on my
PMS exam. Besides, what does a Pman like yourself know of such things.
This is Soc.WOMEN, DAMMIT!
Your attempts constitute nothing less than censorship. There is a
conspiracy against me. You, Colin, Charlie and the backbone cabal have been
constantly harassing me by email. This was an ad hominem attack! If this
doesn't stop at once, I'll crosspost a thousand articles to soc.men.
> Perhaps you should have posted it in misc.misc.
It is my right, as granted in the Bill of Rights, the Magna Carta, the
Bible and the Quran, to post where ever I want to. Or don't you
believe in those documents, you damn fascist? Perhaps if you didn't
spend so much time sacrificing virgins and infants to Satan, you would
have realized this.
> Your article would
> be much more appropriate there.
Can you document this? I will only accept documents notarized by my
attorney, and signed by you in your blood. Besides, you don't really exist
anyway, you Pseudo, you.
> If I can be of any help in the future, just drop me a line.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
> Bill.
Sally Sourpuss
"If we can send one man to the moon, why can't we send them all?"
Soc.women Women WOMEN, DAMMIT!
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Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1992 18:13:04 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: GR4302
Subject: in response to mssr. holder's guide to power posting
so you (what are clearly a fascist conspiratorial pig snot) masquerade
as a female on soc.fem.menstr.grrr!! everyone on this list has either
forsaken genitals or masquerades as some perversion or another. this
power posting business, of course, was INVENTED by SBRHYM-L years ago
back in the days that only pat knows about (that snivling fnording poo!)
SNOT--and we've gone well beyond that. for example the previous example.
claiming list-ancientness. of course i was BORN inside a Cyber 170 in
1979, not that i'm claiming anything or anything. i don't need to.
everyone on this list nos i no everything and never resist me (except
the fools who are destroyed...that one still works fine). well, anyway
for my taste, best puke the e-entrails of furry beasts on your opponent or
their forebearers, such as, yo' e-mama sucks the gonads of a fish with
liver shoved up her butt, and so on. i got snotgobs of mucous for you, et
al. (which only goes to show that we're not above stealing from
popular culture.) so, now that i've spoken for everyone on this list,
everyone who was ever on it, and everyone who ever will be let me just
conclude by saying, my aunt moggie had three eyes on her back and did
fine things with licorice and led the fight for female suffrage in the
first state of the union to grant such. my authority on all matters is
impeccable by nature of my being a member of this list. indeed my bowels
are so filled that i hereby grant y'all this one indulgence. thy spins
are for saken thee and thee all now gots PhDs (of yr choice) from
the Interstate College of the Americas (ICA) by the authority and so on suchan
d so frothing at the mouth he cackled and turned upthe joose
Now I'll go back and read all the last weeks posts you've been busy beavers
and see once again how you always stay three steps ahead of me. Thanks
my friends.
;^##
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Date: Tue, 29 Sep 1992 13:09:59 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: in response to your response etc.
i hereby slobberingly submit my grovelingly blubbering apology etc.i will forthwith tender my new signature file for your approval. isat up all night working on it and i think it depicts my newfoundmalessness as a text-based performance piece:
asd..... XXXX lKJ DSLFA sALKfj32152 *& &&&*&&&&&*& &*&(*&(((((((((((((((healing->hope->harmony->happiness||||| %$#YH#YGKJCX........ ....L.snx snxx chnx hrnx tymxx 1,3 1,3 zero AAAAAAAAAAAAAasdflkj as dklkk asdlkf lkasdlk lksdaf sdlfgoi lsafj ia v a a fdsarobert h
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Date: Tue, 29 Sep 1992 13:29:01 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: GR4302
Subject: re: re: Baseball ? (d part to gr4...)
Aristocratic dishheads counting while rolling only backwards?
No, Artistotle's a workhorse for all that's pithy. It doesn't
take a Kenneth Burke to see that the functionaries will not
totally drop from the equation unless deprived of all firepower,
of which they've plenty acquired these 175 yrs. Not to mention
the point, you jack-ass, that even old coots run shit wild with
their heads up their butts and throw in with the wrong party.
South-Central maybe. But, lo, this piece is continually recast;
'tis only you, my fiend Chi, who persists!! Arven blue scandle,
44th and Alpine, Boulder. May you all be overcome with American
processed cheese singles and squat!
ppppppplllppblblpppp!!!
;^##
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 30 Sep 1992 01:15:41 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: GR4302
Subject: "Oil 5+ Midnight"
"Oil 5+ Midnight"
Wide world sing
We hold you
On a string
Waiting to
Bang bang bang
Bang bang bang
Bang bang bang
Open up your home
It's over us
Thank your General's bloom
Victorious
Bang bang bang
Bang bang bang
Bang bang bang
I don't see
I can't believe
What's this emerald dream
Come over me
Bang bang bang
Bang bang bang
Bang bang bang
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