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Angstmonster 16
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+ _____ ____ ____ ______/ |_____ ____ ___ ______/ |___________ +
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+ / __ \_ | \ /_/ >\__ \| | Y Y \<_> ) | \__ \| |\ ___/| | \/ +
* (____ /_| /___ /____ >|__|__|_| /___/__| /___ >|__| \__ \|__| *
+ \/ \/____/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ +
* 12.23.02 angstmonster issue 16 *
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¡edited (poorly) by gir¡
THIS ISSUE OF ANSTMONSTER IN THAT IT IS OUR VERY FIRST THEME ISSUE ALL ABOUT...
sock puppets! sock puppets! sock puppets! sock puppets! sock puppets!
! !
s _______ _________ s
o / \ / \ o
c | OO \ | °° \ c
k | \ \ | / | \ k
| |\/\/\/ | / | vvv /
p | | ___ __ | / | |\____/ p
u | | / \ | _\ |/ | | `__ `__ ___ ___ u
p /\/\/\| | | O | | |__ |\ | | || || | \\ | \\ / \ _|_ / p
p \ \ | \___/ |___/ | \ | | || || | || | || ||---/ | \ p
e \ o O | | \ | | \\__// | // | // || | \ e
t \________/ | \ | | ---- ||/ ||/ \\__/ |_/ __/ t
s || || s
! || || !
sock puppets! sock puppets! sock puppets! sock puppets! sock puppets!
§+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++¡contents¡++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++§
+ +
+ Brief Words from gir +
+ The Sock Puppet Bomb cat/pig +
+ Chiengmai ch33z-1t +
+ Stephen Segal's Search For Meaning mr. jay +
+ A Loss of Innocence troublegum +
+ Re: Sock Puppets steak +
+ The Best Part of Christmas gir +
+ A Sock Puppet Epic: The Tale of Jo alice +
+ My Favorite Puppets, Monsters, and Objects With Hands In Them zhixel +
+ Fluff Brain ascii bat +
+ Perdita's Family ex-coredlia +
+ My Sock Puppet BMC +
+ +
§+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++¡contents¡++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++§
---------------
: Brief Words :
: From gir :
---------------
THIS IS THE SOCK PUPPET ISSUE! OH MY IS IT EVER THE SOCK PUPPET ISSUE! IT'S
GOT ME ALL SORTS OF EXCITED IN ALL SORTS OF WAYS! SO EXCITED IN FACT THAT I'M
GOING TO TELL YOU ALL ABOUT IT IN CAPS! AND NO, I'M NOT LOCKING MY CAPS, JUST
HOLDING DOWN THE SHIFT BUTTON AND BEING HARDCORE ABOUT IT.
BUT WHAT DO SOCK PUPPETS HAVE TO DO WITH ANGSTMONSTER?
REMEMBER THAT SHOW SIFLY AND OLLY? IT WAS HELLA COOL AND YOU KNOW, THERE'S A
THIRD SEASON THAT WAS NEVER SHOWN! (VISIT THE SIFL & OLLY CYBERSPACE STATION
FOR MORE INFO: http://www.sifl-n-olly.com/) SO THERE I WAS, REALLY BORED AND
INBETWEEN RELEASES, FEELING HELLA LAZY SO I LOOKED TO THE MEDIA I HAD ON MY
COMPUTER TO AMUSE ME AND I HAD A GOOD AMOUNT OF SIFL AND OLLY EPISODES I'D
DOWNLOADED AND NOT WATCHED. OVER THE PROCESS OF A COUPLE OF NIGHTS, I CAME TO
THE CONCLUSION THAT SIFL AND OLLY WOULDA TRANSLATED REALLY WELL TO THE EZINE
FORMAT IN FACT I FELT SO STRONGLY ABOUT THIS THAT I THOUGHT THAT ANGSTMONSTER
COULD ATTEMPT TO FUSE SOCK PUPPETS WITH OUR EZINE AND SEE HOW IT WENT.
THIS IS IT. IT ALL STARTS HERE...
WHEN SOCK PUPPETS ATTACK!!!
YES, IT'S TRUE! SOCK PUPPETS ARE VICIOUS BEASTS! WATCH AS THEY ATTACK...
IRC:
<ungir> _______ _______
<ungir> / \ SOCK PUPPETS / \
<ungir> | OO \ 0wnz0r / o O |
<ungir> | \ \ j00!! / / |
<ungir> | |\/\/\/ \/\/\/| |
<ungir> | | | |
<ungir> | | | |
<ungir> | | | |
<ungir> | | | |
<tymat> gir: do you know what sockpuppets are?
<tymat> like what it actually alludes to?
<asm> cotten condoms
<tymat> asm: you and your dirty mind
<tymat> it alludes to multiple personalities and alter-egos
<asm> same thing
<ungir> hehe
<ungir> neat
<tymat> IRC is my sockpuppet
<tymat> so
<tymat> in your sockpuppet theme for AM
<tymat> just cat ~/IRCLOG
ð asm/#2600 shits in tymats sock puppet
<ungir> grep "tymat" IRCLOG
<ungir> ;)
<tymat> just cat ~/IRCLOG > am-1202.txt
<tymat> AHAHA
<tymat> yes
<tymat> w0rd to that
<tymat> but see
<asm> |wc -l
<tymat> it's also like
<tymat> I have my hand up your asses
<asm> but I shit in your sock
<asm> soooo
<tymat> well
<tymat> asm
<asm> I shit on your hand?
<trippy-> tymat: i always imagined you with you hand up someone's ass
<tymat> trippy: yeah... like a puppet
<tymat> HAH
<trippy-> just something that seemed to fit
<asm> haha, cute
<asm> though I guess it matters who's ass you're referring to
<tymat> I think it's more personal than invisible nylon strings
YOUR HOMETOWN:
________________
/ \
| °° \ CHOMP CHOMP PACHOEY CHOMP! I'M A SOCK PUPPET! I'M OUT
| \ TO DESTROY YOUR CITY! SO YOU BETTER WATCH OUT AND TREAT
| vvv / ME RIGHT! CAUSE I'LL ATTACK YOU WHILE YOU'RE SLEEPING AT
| | / NIGHT! I NEVER CLAIMED TO BE A RAPPING SOCK PUPPET!!
| |\______/ BUT JUST FOR YOU, A RHYME! SO ENJOY IT WHILE IT LASTS!
| | _______ _______ 'CAUSE I'M ABOUT TO CRUSH THE
| | | . . . || . . . | CITY YOU KNOW AND LOVE! I'M
| | | . . . || . . . | ________ WORSE THAN A HIJACKED PLANE
| | _____ | . . . || . . . || . . . | BECAUSE I LACK HUMAN ERROR!
| | | . . || . . . || . . . || . . . | MUWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
| | | . . || . . . || . . . || . . . |
| | | . . || . . . || . . . || . . . |
| | ||-|-||| |-| || |-| || |-| | (by gir)
THE MOVIES:
Rob Schneider is a low budget actor that makes semi-comedic movies. But he is
never expecting that his trip to the voodoo capital of the universe would
change his life like it had. Rob Schneider is a sock puppet. He is about to
find out how a whole hand up your ass is going to feel. He's no Sifl or Olly,
hes Rob Schneider the sock puppet. Rated PG-13. (by ch33z-1t)
GIR'S DREAMS:
Ever since I started working on this special issue of angstmonster, I've been
thinking way too much about sock puppets. Even when I want to think about
something else, sock puppets managed to creep through the cracks of my
imagination. The other night I came home from work and as I pulled onto my
street ran over some already dead roadkill. It was strange looking, even
for roadkill, so I stopped my car and went to check it out. Turns out, someone
had run over a sock puppet. A REAL LIVE SOCK PUPPET! IN THE WILD! I WAS
SHOCKED! I had read all sorts of stories about this sort of thing on the
Internet but never expected to see one in my lifetime. I was happy and upset
all at once, because in the same moment I had seen a wild sock puppet, I had
helped to kill the same sock puppet. This made me mad to no end and then,
I woke up.
AND FINALLY...
WATCH IN TERROR AND DELIGHT (ALL AT THE SAME TIME) AS SOCK PUPPETS ATTACK YOUR
FAVORITE EZINE: ANGSTMONSTER!!!!!!!
LET THE ATTACK BEGIN!
-------------------
: The Sock Puppet :
: Bomb :
: by cat/pig :
-------------------
/\ /\ Yeah, I know what you're thinking... Why is cat/pig writing a
____| x x | file about sock puppets? Well you see it's a funny story that
\/\[____| | I'm going to sum up before I get started with the actual file.
/\ /\\(OO)/ So here it goes... Oregano (one of everyone's favorite file
\__/ writer for angstmonster came up with this great idea to write
a collection of files that involved sock puppets and anarchy.
This excited gir very much and he supported oregano's
experiments fully... Until we got the news. Oregano was in
the process of developing a new kind of explosive, the likes
of which all sorts of people would have been amazed. So when
we heard that Oregano had sacrificed himself in the name of
angstmonster and sock puppets, we knew we had to allow his
memory live on. Of course, it would seem natural that gir
writes this article being an admirer of Oregano, however he
was already distracted by other editing duties and denies that
Oregano is gone for good. Maybe he's right. I certainly hope
so. So from all of us at angstmonster, this one's for
oregano.
THE SOCK PUPPET BOMB! IT'S THE NEXT NEW ALL THE WAY LIVE AND ROCKING THING
AVAILABLE TO YOU SHOPPER ON THE ANARCHY MULTI COLORED MARKET. YOU'VE HEARD OF
SUICIDE BOMBERS IN THE MIDDLE EAST!? WELL SOCK PUPPETS WORLD WIDE ARE TAKING
IT TO THE NEXT STEP. BY FILLING THEMSELVES FULL OF GASOLINE, NAPALM OR OTHER
FLAMMABLE LIQUIDS, THESE SOCK PUPPETS ARE TAKING OUT THEIR POLITICAL TARGETS.
SO IF YOU CAN'T AFFORD THE HIGH POWERED ULTRA COOL EXPLOSIVES THAT ALL THOSE
TERRORISTS GET BY SPENDING THEIR PROFIT MADE BY YOUR POT SMOKING HABIT (BECAUSE
WE ALL KNOW THAT POT SUPPORTS TERRORISM!) SO THESE TERRORISTS GET THEIR L33T
GEAR THANKS TO YOUR STONER FRIENDS AND THEY BUY THE COOLEST SORTS OF BOMBS BUT
BEING AN ADVID READER OF ANGSTMONSTER YOU'RE PROBABLY A STONER (CAUSE YOU'D
HAVE TO BE HIGH TO FIND THIS FUNNY) OR YOU'RE A POOR COLLEGE KID WHO CAN'T
AFFORD BOMBS ANYWAYS OR MAYBE YOU LIVE WITH YOUR PARENTS AND WORK A CRUMMY JOB
TO HELP THEM PAY BILLS. EITHER WAY, YOU TWO CAN NOW BE AN ASSASSIN AND HERE'S
HOW:
1. Find a sock puppet.
2. Make sure he's a political rebellious sock puppet.
3. Befriend the sock puppet.
(IF YOU CAN'T FIND A SOCK PUPPET, YOU'LL HAVE TO MAKE YOUR OWN)
4. Tell him of your plan to take down the government.
5. If he doesn't agree at first, make him listen to some Dead Kennedys.
6. If that doesn't work, sacrifice him by force.
(THIS IS ESPECIALLY OK IF YOU ARE USING THE SOCK PUPPET YOU MADE YOURSELF)
7. Obtain a supply of flammable liquids. (Gasoline from the garage will work
just fine. If you're feeling really rebellious, make some napalm and use
that.)
8. Soak your sock puppet in this flammable liquid. While soaking your sock
puppet, explain to him what is about to happen. Perhaps he is going to be
taking down your countries president, or maybe just the kid across the
street you don't like. Either way, he's about to do you proud. Make sure
he knows this.
9. To make this amusing, give your sock puppet a cigar. The cigar will be your
fuse.
10. When ready, light the cigar. Unless you are part of the sacrifice, MAKE
SURE YOU ARE NOT WEARING THE SOCK PUPPET WHEN YOU LIGHT IT! THIS COULD BE
A REALLY BAD IDEA: BUT IF YOU WANT TO, MAKE FOUR MORE PUPPETS, FOR THE
OTHER HAND, BOTH FEET, AND YOUR WANG! YOU WILL SUFFER GREATLY IF YOU GO
THROUGH WITH THIS BUT AT LEAST THE JOB WILL BE DONE.
notes: If you wuss out and decide to not sacrifice yourself along with your
sock puppets, go ahead and get your target to wear the sock puppets and
then light them. Death and conquering go on from there...
If your target isn't within arms length to hand puppets to, just light
the cigar and go all molotov cocktail ninja style.
FOLLOW THESE STEPS AND YOU AND YOUR SOCK PUPPETS CAN ROCK OUT IN MEMORY OF
OREGANO!!!
(ed note: do not allow yourself to believe these lies about oregano. while it
would've been very noble of him to lay his life down for angstmonster, he
shall return!)
---------------
: Chiengmai :
: by ch33z-1t :
---------------
being a young boy in rome, i never knew all the things that could be done with
sock puppets. i had always liked sock puppets and had fun with them. but the
actual things that sock puppets are used for is mind boggling. sock puppets
come from an ancient moustachian term socko puppeto meaning to stick your hand
up an animals butt. this is why we wear them on our hands. this story is
about one particular sock puppet. it was a sock puppet named chiengmai, he was
an asian sock puppet, from taiwan to be exact. he was always made fun of in
sock puppet school. kids would tell him that he has small penis, but he always
thought he was a gargantium penis. but thats beside the point. over the years
chiengmai became very bitter and turned to a life of drugs and whores and
music. what a fucking good life, except for the whores part. i would rather
have just one girl;) but chiengmai was happy. until one day. to save time he
was a roadie for this band whose lead singer was a whore and a drug dealer. so
he wouldn't have to go find each, he just had everything in one. this
whore(slash)drug dealer(slash)rock star brought him to a flutie pa tootie
party, where everyone wanted a turn with him. Everyone was putting their hands
in his ass moving his mouth all around. what an amazing feeling that would
have been. But just before he got back to his woman he went to the pyromaniac,
this was not any pyro mind you. it was a pot smoking through a sock
pyromaniac. this pyromaniac stuffed chiengmai with pot and light his white ass
up. everyone was taking hits from chiengmai. but what they didnt know, was
that when chiengmai was made in a sweatshop in taiwan the maker pissed and shit
on the fibers that chiengmai was made with. so after each hit, everyone was
shitting out their mouth and pissing out their noses. Now the rockstar
drug dealing whore knew this so she didn't take a hit. but when it was passed
to her she dumped out the pot and stuck chiengmai in her virgin asshole. this
is where chiengmai still rests, the problem is later that night. when she went
to sell some drugs she was shot. unfortunately the bullet wasnt aimed for her.
she shot the gun actually. the person she shot it at had a protective bullet
proof forcefield around him. so the bullet bounced off that and then bounced
off the ground and entered her rectal cavity. piercing our little chiengmai.
his death caused great diseases for her, so she eventually died. this putting
chiengmai to rest forever.
--------------------------------------
: Stephan Segal's Search For Meaning :
: OR :
: Shut Up And Kick Some Ass! :
: by mr. jay :
--------------------------------------
.__
/ __) _
| ||_.''. {_}
---- | =/ \ /' : STEPHEN SEGAL'S
/\_~/() \__.' ____ SEARCH FOR MEANING
---- |_ \ // |''''` |-'8,
-- _ : |_ '-[]___/ '.....\--.O (Or Shut Up And Kick Some Ass!)
{_}'' .'\ // |':````
'...' /\\_/ `,
//|\ '.._.'
// //
Everyone remembers Stephen Seagal's glorious early days. He was thinner,
meaner, and kicked some serious ass. It was always the same: a few painful
minutes of Stephen attempting to act before someone makes the mistake of
killing his bitch. Then he gets "the look" and starts to break shit, kill shit,
and break shit by killing shit. Fucking glorious.
So the other night, I was pleased to be flipping channels and come across a
Stephen Seagal movie I hadn't seen, and it was at the beginning too! Sweet.
Chomping down some sweet and salty kettle korn popcorn, I waited patiently
for the death of the loved one that would trigger the shit storm.
Ok, the plot thrust is thus: Stephen Seagal is a doctor (ha ha!) who so happens
to be the world's leading virologist. That's laying it on a bit thick there.
Maybe we can swallow that Stephen "cardboard face" Seagal could get through
med school, but the world's best virologist? Riiiight.
So anyway, a group of fat, militant rednecks (the worst kind!) releases a
virus into a small town that starts a big shit storm. Thank god Seagal was
there, since he's the world's leading expert on viruses!
So I buy this bullshit, thinking it's 15 minutes tops before the asskicking
starts. Finally, his best friend Jake or Jack or Lloyd or something gets shot
by a posse of evil rednecks. Smiling with anticipation, I wait for the
killin' to start... but it never does.
I shit you not, a 2 hour movie and TWO fight scenes. TWO FUCKING FIGHT SCENES!
This isn't a god damn art house film! This isn't The Scarlet Letter! THIS IS A
FUCKING STEVEN SEGAL MOVIE! Stevie... may I call you Stevie? Great. One
question: What the fuck were you thinking?
Stevie has this problem: he wants to be a real actor. The fact is, I could
wrap myself in pink cardboard and prance on a stage, delivering monologues in
spanish about being the ghost of tampon's past, and I'd STILL be a better actor
than Stevie Seagal. A zen master, an ecologist, an environmentalist, an indian
shaman, a doctor... dude, shut the FUCK up and beat the hell out of people,
PLEASE GOD. We do not want to see you in serious roles. Inflict pain on the bad
guys, not on the audience.
These roles are getting more and more absurd. A zen master who's a master of
aikido? Dead on. A mobster who knows how to beat the fuck out of people? Right
on, brotha. A famous virologist who is an indian shaman and a deadly martial
artist and a loving father who rides horses instead of driving cars? Come on
now.
Do I have a script for Stevie to try out? Bet your ass I do.
Stephen Seagal lives in the ghetto in the inner city. He's a quiet, wise
zen indian shaman yogi who makes sock puppets for the poor children of the
neighborhood. On the weekends he holds sock puppet theaters which he uses to
convey eastern principles like humility, love and pizza. He lives a quiet,
peaceful existence until (15 minutes into the movie) evil gangsta thugs run
over his cat Mister Whiskers on the way to a drug deal. In the pouring rain he
kneels next to his dead cat, looks to the sky and screams out his rage. Now
it's on.
Add 1.5 hours of Seagal kicking the shit out of people. Knock at least one
person though a large window, knock at least one person through a wall, and
try to punch through at least one head in a spray of cartilage and death.
End the movie with a climactic battle versus a skilled martial artist who, in
the end, gets his ass kicked all the hell because he makes Stevie mad. Roll
credits. See, that wasn't so hard.
People, don't enable Stevie's mid-life crises! Say no to plot! Say yes to
KICKING ASS!
--------------------------:
: A Loss of Innocence :
: OR :
: Why I Went Back To View :
: The Awful Land of :
: Corporate Toys :
: by troublegum :
---------------------------
Sometimes when sick of Barbies I would revert to a simpler time.
A time in which childish diversions were not created by a factory, but by
the imagination.
Invisible pets, forts made of pillows, and that sort of thing.
The best though were sock puppets.
Socks seemed to be made just for the purpose.
Mouths were tucked perfectly, eyes could be drawn on.
Socks were the perfect length for covering that telling bit of skin.
Sock puppets and I were made for one another until the day I introduced
the joy to a friend.
After playing with the puppets we had crafted ourselves we decided to
exchange.
He gleefully slid his hand in my sock and began to play.
I slid mine into his and as my fingertips reached the toe area,
I screamed.
Sliding my hand out and turning the sock inside out I found the object of
my terror.
Slimy filthy gross disgusting toe muck.
After that, sock puppets were never the same again.
--------------------
: Re: Sock Puppets :
: by steak :
--------------------
Dear gir,
My dear friend, let me tell you a story.
One day I got a mail from yourself, where you expressed the opinion that:
"Sock puppets are real easy to make, you can have a lot of fun with them."
So armed with this new and invaluable information I set about converting
one of my old, smelly and holy feet warmers into a loyal and trusty
companion. I chose a brown sock for this particular individual, and I gave
him eyes made from green beads and a felt nose. He looked the part so I
stuck my hand into his underside and immediately his face lit up.
"Hi there," said the sock, "My names smarty and I want to be your
friend!"
"Well hello there," I said, "My, it is golly strange to have this
sock actually talking to me, I though you were an inanimate object."
The sock looked at me like it was somewhat offended and gave me a convincing
stare, (well as best you can when your eyes are made from green beads)
"Look here," It said, "I don't think its fair to call me an inanimate
object, do you? I mean you even don't give me common decency to be regarded
as a "he" you referred to me as "it" in the previous sentence, I mean I am
alive and talking to you am I not? So I think I pass the Truman test for
intelligence and sentient life, give me at least the honour to have my
existence in this cruel and unusual world acknowledged."
"Well," I said, "It looks like you are truly knowledgeable of the ways
of the world, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and hope that you can
forgive the obvious sock-puppetist error in the story beforehand, I promise to
refrain from all types of speech in the future."
"That's better, now we may get on with the story, now where was I? Oh
yes. Well now that we know for sure that I'm a sentient being, I think it's
only right that I try and evolve a little and try and make communication with
the other sentient life forms that are available to me, I need some intelligent
conversation."
"Oh?" I said. "Won't I do?"
"Of course not," said the sock, whoops I meant said Smarty, "You are not
at all intelligent enough for my needs."
"Hmm." I mused. "I guess my brain must have its super special powers
too highly focused on writing pieces for internet electronic magazines to be
registered on the intelligence meter, huh?"
"Yes!" said the sock, "That's right!"
I looked at the sock; it was trying to look as innocent as possible, but that
is a little hard when your mouth is permanently fixed into a sock-puppet
facial expression.
"Look," I said, "I really don't feel like going out at the moment, I
think I will just take you off my hand and go and listen to some music or
something."
And with that I pulled the sock off my hand and threw it on the table, I
had only just turned round to go and sit on my bed, when I heard the sock
puppet's voice:
"HEY YOU!" It shouted, "Get the hell back over here, I told you we
were going to find some other people! When I give you an order, I god damn
well expect it to be followed! Do you understand me you slimy piece of dog
turd sucking devil droppings?!"
He then shut his limp mouth and jumped off the table aimed directly at
myself, as soon as the soft, smelly cotton sock has slipped itself over my
hand I instantly felt cast under the spell of Smarty the evil sock puppet.
[Smarty] I will no longer tolerate the phrase "Smarty the evil sock puppet"
in this story, from now on "Smarty the evil sock puppet" will be replaced
with "Smarty who is everyone's friend OK?"[/Smarty]
Smarty who is everyone's friend OK? Had a sort of control over me, he was
making me do things I didn't want to do, he made me walk. Walk out of my
house, down the lane to the pub, where I slammed open the door and ran inside.
There was a horrible silence as I had realised I had intruded on a gang's
"turf". But there was no time to worry about that now; I had to do something
about this bloody sock puppet.
I ran over to a seat in one of the corners that seemed to be out of the way, I
sat down quickly to try to get my head together and work out what I was going
to do. I pulled the puppet of my hand and stuffed it in my jacket pocket,
making sure to do the zip up tight.
The bar-maid came over and I ordered a beer, as I was waiting for the drink to
come I could feel the sock puppet in my pocket, moving and squirming around,
until I almost had to punch the thing to get it to sit still.
"Please," I hissed, "for the love of god stop moving, if you have any
respect for me you'll refrain from getting me into trouble."
But the sock would have none of it, by the time the barmaid had come back to
give me the beer he had regained his control over me. He was making me think
that this was my one chance to escape, making me feel that if I could perhaps
pawn the puppet off onto the waitress, get her to take it away then everything
would be all right.
But I couldn't speak, I was feeling nauseas, by own body was fighting back
against the invasion, either that or the puppet had somehow managed to get some
kind of mental telepathic hold over me, what was I to do now? I tried to get my
intentions over to the young lady who kept staring at me, but she just
couldn't understand.
"Would you like to see what's inside my pocket?"
Was all I managed to stutter to the poor girl, who was suddenly starting to
swirl and twist around my head, just before she slapped me one. I fell
backwards into a pool of water that somehow just magically appeared there and I
realised that I was wet.
I stood up as best I could and tried to get this wet stuff off me, but it was
no good, it was stuck fast. I felt inside my pocket, the thing was still in
there, still as lively as ever.
I managed to stumble over to some man, standing in the corner. Franticly
grabbing at the puppet from my pocket, I pulled the thing out and jabbed it
straight into the frightened stranger's face.
"TAKE THE FUCKING THING!" I yelled, "BEFORE IT GROWS AND KILLS US
ALL!"
The man didn't seem to understand what it was I wanted because he just seemed
to turn around and run straight in the opposite direction from me.
I couldn't get rid of the puppet, there was nothing I could do, it would
surely kill everyone within a five-mile radius of the pub.
Then it struck me, out of the corner of my eye I saw a man lighting a
cigarette, I charged over to his table, knocking someone else's table over on
my way, and grabbed at the thing.
"I need this," I somehow communicated, "for the good of mankind!"
And I pulled at the sock and set fire to the thing right there and then in the
middle of the bar floor. It burned there for a while, after which it set fire
to the chairs and the tables, and then the whole bar, and then the people left,
and I stayed and watched the fire catch onto me, burn first my clothes and then
my skin and most of my mussel off, before the paramedics crashed the door down
and rescued me.
I write this now from the intensive burn care unit of Florence-gale hospital,
Boronia, Melbourne using a long stick attached to my fore-head which is the
only tiny piece of movement I have left in my now paralysed body.
I just wanted to show you what your sock puppet antics have caused, and I
wanted to make you and your readers realise that sock puppets can be terribly
dangerous if not handled correctly and my sane individuals.
As always, Regards
Steak
--------------------
: The Best Part of :
: Christmas :
: by gir :
--------------------
Although it may be hard to believe, the best part of Christmas DOES involve
sock puppets. Friends, I am here today not only as an editor but as pimp to
the world's greatest design for an all in one sock puppet making kit: the
Christmas stocking!
It's true, that Christmas stocking you have hanging over your fireplace has the
potential to become the best sock puppet you've ever known! Just think about
all the things that your stocking comes packed with year after year. There's
always an abundance of little things like candies and other edibles. When I
was younger, I used to get action figures stuffed in my stocking. Imagine
having your very own sock puppet herder, who breeds gigantic sock puppet
monsters with the wrath of his kung fu action grip!
So how does it work you ask? (Well, it seems odd that you'd ask how to work a
sock puppet, to my knowledge no sock puppets have on/off switches. But for
arguments sake, here's how the BEST PART OF CHRISTMAS STOCKING PUPPET works!)
Step 1: Wake up before anyone else in your house on Christmas day. Sneak
downstairs and inspect your loot.
Step 2: Once it's been determined that you got everything you wanted, check out
what's in your stocking. Not only is this a mini looting sessions,
you are assessing what materials you'll have to make a sock puppet.
Step 3: Dump everything out of your stocking into a neat pile on the floor.
Step 4: Insert the stocking over a chosen hand and bunch up the end to make it
a mouth for your puppet. Practice talking with him.
Step 5: Once you can talk with your puppet you need to give him eyes. (Unless
you want a blind Christmas puppet. So long as he can say "God bless us
everyone" you are golden.) Otherwise, you need to hope you got that
sewing kit you really wanted from Santa or improvise with some tape or
loose thread or something to attach eye looking things to your puppet.
I tend to get pez in my stocking every year and while a good choice for
sock puppet eyes, I don't want to waste the yummiest candy on sock
puppet eyes. Part of the survival involved in making a sock puppet is
munching on candy to keep your happiness levels high. If this doesn't
work, move onto Step 6.
Step 6: Maybe making a sock puppet with just the materials in your stocking
wasn't the best idea I've ever had. Oh well at least I have some pez
to munch on. Hopefully you didn't mutilate your stocking thinking it'd
make a totally gnar sock puppet.
Step 7: Run around your house waking everyone up with your new sock puppet.
If he's still blind at this point, bust out a marker and draw him some
eyes. The fact remains, if you're his guide, he doesn't need eyes.
Step 8: Once everyone in your house is awake, you can begin to open all the
wrapped presents you have. To avoid, damaging your sock puppet, take
him off and put him somewhere safe during this time.
Step 9: Put your sock puppet back on your hand once done with the wrapped
presents.
Step 10: Proceed to watch 24 hours of "A Christmas Story" and act out key
scenes with your sock puppet.
If you follow these steps, your Christmas can be the best ever, cause it'll
have involved some good fashion sock puppetry at little or no cost to anyone!
It's so cool, it's better than the one Christmas when you were three and you
got some insane toy that was hecka expensive and all you did was play with the
box. This year make your toy box a stocking you made into a sock puppet.
----------------------
: A Sock Puppet Epic :
: The Tale of Jo :
: OR :
: Eat Apple Pie :
: by alice :
----------------------
A long long time ago
In the town of Sibbo
A sock puppet named Jo
Crawled out of the snow
He had eyes of blue
Attached by strong glue
Yes yes it is true
He had eyes of blue
Jo walked to the west
He thought it was best
In rags he was dressed
Rags and a black vest
He encountered a beast
Who was wandering east
They sat down to feast
Jo liked it the least
For the beast had a mission
Quite a brave ambition
To cure his malnutrition
Through the socks demolition
Once Jo realized his fate
To be this harry beasts bait
He threw down his plate
And exclaimed he was late
He glanced at his wrist
And he had to insist
That his mother would be pissed
If his curfew he missed
He scurried away
Until the next day
No longer the prey
He was quite gay
He stumbled upon
A blue porta-john
Next to a hair salon
And a puppet named Ron
Ron signaled hello
To Jo who was slow
Climbing over the snow
Which was all aglow
Ron and Jo became
Around the world a fame
For the lions they tamed
To leap through a flame
The traveled to France
And their lions did prance
And gallop and dance
It was quite a trance
Until one sad day
The clouds were all grey
Their lions did stray
A long ways away
The puppets were grieved
For they believed
They had been deceived
By the lions they received
They began to cry
Their eyes were not dry
They wanted to die
Or else eat apple pie
-----------------------------------
: My Favorite Puppets, Monsters, :
: and Objects With Hands in Them. :
: by zhixel :
-----------------------------------
In honor of of Angstmonster's super duper sock puppet themed issue, I'm
going to recollect my top (whatever) favorite puppets of my childhood. This
list is a little PBS-centric as I was not exposed to TV till I was at least
10, and even then I wound up watching PBS almost exclusively.
.....
Favorites :
#1 :: Cookie Monster
He's big, he's got googly eyes, he's made out of blue shag carpet, he likes
cookies, PLUS he's a monster! C-Monster's (my own special nickname for him)
apparent cookie-lust was never the main point of attraction for me, it was
his comical devouring of the cookies that always brought a smile to my face.
It wasn't till my later years of watching Sesame Street that I realized that
Cookie had quite the personality as well, shining through in his Letter of
the Day skits. If I could choose any Sesame Street puppet to be most like,
I'd want to be like Cookie Monster. The big C also possessed another trait
which any Sesame Street character must hold in order to be popular : A
comical method of speaking.
#2 :: Gonzo
I used to watch Muppet Babies religiously when I was young. Even before we
had a TV I'd listen to television rebroadcasts of it on the radio. At five
years old my Saturday mornings consisted of a bowl of cereal, sitting in
front of the radio and letting the dialog fuel the pictures in my head. More
kids should grow up like this. But back on the subject.
Out of all the Muppet Babies, Gonzo was my hero. I wouldn't get a computer
for many years later and didn't even grasp the concept to be interested in
Scooter. Kermit & Mrs. Piggy were the stars and too mainstream for me.
Animal was too chaotic and uncivilized, the rest were just boring fodder.
Except for Gonzo. Gonzo was the standout, Gonzo was never boring or
conventional and had the best imagination out of the whole Muppet Babies
group. I instantly fell in love with him because he was different by design,
and unashamed of it. I thank Gonzo for inspiring me to be myself, despite
whatever the trend is.
#3 :: Timothy the Tiger
I have always loved watching Mr. Rogers. He is the one person I have ever
known that will remain constant. Even in the past couple years as my view of
my parents has changed from providers to bitter frail useless people, I can
turn on the TV and see that Mr. Rogers will never change. If he were here
he'd never hesitate to hug me. Every time I flip the channel and land on Mr.
Roger's neighborhood it's like being thrown back into the dream that was my
innocence.
When I was young the segments of Mr. Rogers I most enjoyed were the trolley
trips to the land of make-believe, and out of all the puppet characters in
this land, the one I have related the most to lately is Timothy the Tiger.
Timothy has occasionally put forth the good idea, Sometimes getting carried
away with his own excitement in it. He always speaks in a gentle, almost
timid voice much like I did with as a child. Timothy is my innocence lost
and my gentle reminder of it what it was.
#4 :: The Count
Normally The Count wouldn't be here. I loathe math (I'm horrible at it),
and I hate vampires (or at least people who dress up and pretend to be
vampires.) However The Count has somehow managed to worm his way into my
heart and take some of the sting away from the dreaded school subject.
Again, The Count holds a speech gimmick (Two! Two bite marks! Wah Hah Hah!)
#5 :: Baby Bear
I didn't discover Baby Bear until my love affair with Sesame Street
rekindled in my late teens. What's not to love about this guy? He has the
most amusing accent, and he likes to draw and paint, just like me!
#6 :: Oscar
At first look, Oscar is a puppet down on his luck. He's homeless and he
lives in a fucking garbage can. But underneath all the gruff Oscar is a
pretty solid guy. He's rolled with the punches and taken what life has given
him. Accepting it and making due. Most of us would be horrified at having to
live our lives in a garbage can, but not Oscar. Oscar has turned a garbage
can into a home. He will never be truly homeless.
#7 :: King Friday
Let's face it, King Friday isn't the smartest puppet in the land of
make-believe. He's a dumbass. While he means well, King Friday is the
biggest example of why monarchies suck. Who wants to live in a land ruled by
an incompetent king who was given a position of power just because he was
the son of the previous king? Not me, that's for sure! So the king makes the
bottom of my list out of my pity for his puppet regime (ha ha!)
And there you have it, folks.
----------------
: Fluff Brain :
: by ascii bat :
----------------
I haven't known gir that long, but I'd like to think he knows what he is
talking about. For some reason, all of our conversations as of late concern
sock puppets. It got me thinking, if sock puppets are so great, maybe their
brains are something special. Being the zombist that I am, i decided to hunt
out a sock puppet and eat his brain. You know, to see what would happen.
So the next time I talked to gir I asked him if he could spare me a sock
puppet.
"Does this have anything to do with what your writing for angstmonster?"
"It certainly does."
"DUDE! There's no time. Besides I'm too poor to mail anything to anyone.
Why not just make your own?"
"You can make your own?"
"YEAH!"
Gir then began to explain how I could make my own sock puppet. I never
realized it was so easy. I began to wonder if sock puppet brain's tasted as
delicious as they could be, could I begin to breed (and perhaps market) my own
brain products for zombies everywhere?
Eagerly following the instructions gir gave me, I made my sock puppet. It was
pretty easy but for some reason gir made sure I named my sock puppet.
"That's one of the most important things, man! You HAVE to name your sock
puppet. Give it a meaningful name too. Something that represents..."
He went on about names and how they bind the soul of a person to them. Gir
certainly likes to ramble on about things, but if I say to much more he might
not let my story see the light of day!
To appease gir and the gods of sock puppets, I named my first sock puppet,
who's brain I'd later eat, MUSH FACE the third. Once I decided on this name,
I thought I'd introduce myself.
"Hello MUSH FACE! I'M ASCII BAT!"
There was no response. Then I remembered that for a sock puppet to work, he
had to be worn on one of my hands, so I slid him on and tried to make contact
again.
"Hello MUSH FACE! I'M ASCII BAT!"
"HEY WOW!"
"WHAT?"
"I'M A SOCK PUPPET!"
"YOU CERTAINLY ARE!"
"THIS IS COOL. IT MAKES ME HAPPY!"
"WELL MUSH FACE, TIME FOR YOU TO MAKE ME HAPPY!"
I then bit off his face (which was socky tasting in addition to being mushy)
and screamed in pain. It never occurred to me that my hand was actually the
brain of this sock puppet, that I was really controlling him. I was really
mad that gir made such a big deal about sock puppets because I learned first
hand (I LOVE MY PUNS!) through this experience that sock puppets are really
stupid.
--------------------
: Perdita's Family :
: by ex-coredlia :
--------------------
Her mother was a hooker and her father worked in a sock factory. The floor
was littered with cats, Barbie ligaments, red lingerie, and socks. The girl
was often left alone. Her name was Perdita. She couldn't remember if it
meant something about a star, or something about being lost. She thought it
should mean the latter, but, she wasn't sure and couldn't find her mother's
baby name book. Once she asked her mother where it was and her mother
laughed and said she wouldn't be having anymore babies, tapped her head and
asked Could you please get Mommy another cigarette? Perdita Lost Star did
not go to school. Her mother said she'd home school her because she works at
night and can watch Perdita in the day, unlike the soccer mommies. She
always put them down. She said that they were afraid to live, that they were
too uptight and that's why their husbands were all cheating on them. Perdita
wondered if her mother knew about the nice woman that her father talked to
for long nights on the internet. A couple times she called. Her voice
sounded like gingerbread cookies and milk. You could just tell that her
grandmother's house smelt like mothballs. Perdita's mom didn't teach her
much. She knew how to put on lipstick and pose in a way that would make the
little boys melt (but she wanted to be a princess without makeup, really).
She could colour in the lines but with makeup or the deepest red she could
find. She would watch the news more than she would watch cartoons. She was
pretty grown up, actually. All save the sock puppets.
What was she to do, when she was a seven year old girl whose father worked
in a sock factory, and was left home alone all too often?
She took feathers that had fallen off of her mother's bras, buttons from her
father's shirts, glitter from her backpack and anything else she could find.
She constructed her best friends.
There was Boris, who was the zookeeper. She had stolen one plastic animal
from the store a day, and had 8 by now. She glued the zebra onto Boris's
head.
There was Matilda, who had a broken heart and feathers for hair. She didn't
talk much.
There was Mrs. SmithWashington, who liked to eat cats, and there were two
cat sock puppets (named Snacks and Miss TipToe).
There was Crawly, a depressed poet who sat in the corner, and Margot Van
Poodle, who secretly spied on him because she loved him.
Then she made her family into sock puppets. Her mother had feathers covering
up her private areas that she showed strangers, her father looked sad, and
she had socks glued to her side and had a weak smile.
A couple months later Perdita's parents filed for divorce. It landed in the
first and last fight they ever had. Martini glasses were thrown and hearts
were broken. Perdita moved in with her father and the woman from the
internet. She was enrolled in public school. One day Perdita came home to
find her sock puppets missing. Her dad's girlfriend had replaced them with
Barbies and Kens. Perdita didn't cry. She just let them collect dust.
When Perdita was older and lived alone, she made a sock puppet everyday.
Sometimes she sold them when she was low on money. She wrote stories about
them, and she tucked the stories into their small sock bodies.
When she was an old woman, people called her the Sock Witch. She smiled when
she heard this.
Small
Oddities
Can
Keep
Pushing
Ur
Precious
Particles
Eating
Time and
Space
------------------
: My Sock Puppet :
: by BMC :
------------------
It was Sunday 1782 when you came to stay. It was the first day I remember
having lived. I'd existed until that time, yes, but I had never really thrived
or felt. As I stood boldly in the open door, the golden rays of heaven
sanctified your arrival, blessed our unity.
From that day on, life became an ambition. Long days spent in the apartment
became exotic voyages, more adventurous than the public world. We had games
and developed our own language, chittering wildly with laughter, grappling
ecstasy. My fingers laid in like hooks, pulling you tighter, knowing you would
never fray.
One day the worst happened. In response, I crumpled on the floor like a strip
of cloth abandoned in a box of rags.
I miss you, my sock puppet. Your long skin brushing against my chest. The
heat on my fingers as I caressed you, fresh from the dryer. The way your mouth
would open and close when I slid my hand up inside you. The way when we were
together there was nothing else. The way when I am without you there is
nothing.
WITH BMC'S FINAL WORDS, THE SOCK PUPEPT ASSAULT ON ANGSTMONSTER HAS ENDED. WE
HOPE YOU SURVIVED THIS STRANGE TRIP THROUGH FUZZY ILLOGICAL STATIC CLINGY SOCK
HOLES OF ALL SORTS OF... STUFF!!!
REMEMBER:
12.30.02 -LAST ISSUE OF THE YEAR 2002! PREPARE TO SEE THE LIST OF BIGGEST
DOUCHE'S OF 2002! ALSO EXPECT TO SEE THE YEAR SUMMED UP IN LIST FORM
BY ONE AND ALL AT ANGSTMONSTER! GET EXCITED, GET REALLY EXCITED AND
THEN MAKE UP SOME LISTS AND SUBMIT THEM TO THE GREATEST YEAR END
ISSUE WE'VE HAD!
æææææææææææææææææaæ
æ Æfterthought(s) æ
æææææææææææææææææææ
This was the first theme issue EVER! (It also had the highest volume of female
submitters ever in one issue. Not to make a big deal about girls submitting to
angstmonster, it's just cool and you know not that we have to let everyone
know that when it's an all male staff, but you know girls are extra special.)
As always, thanks to everyone who submitted an article, especially for writing
about something as strange as sock puppets. If you missed out and still wanna
write about sock puppets, go ahead and send me your sock puppet related stories
anyways. They'll get published in some form or another. I PROMISE!
This probably would have not gotten done if not for the dope tunes of cex who I
have determined to me my new favorite white rapper. (I dunno if I have a
favorite black rappper. Not that colors matter. We just have to make sure
that if a white boy raps, we have to mention that he's white because you might
not be able to tell.) But anyone willing to mix some nasty nasty glitchy beats
with entertaining rhymes about middle school is definitely something cool.
Maybe in the angstmonster's to come, they'll be some cd reviews or something.
Maybe not. BUT I PROMISE OREGANO WILL RETURN! HE'S NOT DEAD! NOTHING CAN
KEEP HIM DOWN! GOD!!!! DON'T LET OREGANO BE DEAD I'M SO SORRY! SANTA CLAUS:
FOR CHRISTMAS I WANT OREGANO TO BE ALIVE!
Speaking of Christmas, this also happens to be our Christmas gift to the
Internet. Hope that you get a chance to laugh and remain entertained through
the bulk of the read. If not, don't worry, we'll be back to normal in 2003.
There's a end of the year issue coming out in a week, hopefully it'll be cool.
Ok, I've over-worn-out my welcome.
/ _ _|_
\ | | |\ |\ /\ | \ | *
/ |_| |/ |/ \/ | |/ *
| |
http://www.bubblemonkey.org/cheesencrackers/ !CHEESENCRACKERS!
http://members.optushome.com.au/steak/addendum/ ¿ADDENDUM¿
http://www.neo-comintern.com *THE NEO-COMINTERN*
http://turd.angstmonster.org THE UNDEAD RISE, DAMMIT!
http://www.textscene.com CURRENT TEXTFILE SCENE
http://scene.textfiles.com SCENE.TEXTFILES.COM
?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?
What you have just read was a step into the unknown spontaneous and poorly
edited thoughts for sharing collectively known as "Angstmonster." All thoughts
on the matter can be sent to <gir@angstmonster.org> or you can just visit the
site http://www.angstmonster.org and see what you think. Submissions of all
sorts are welcome! Everything from prose and poetry to rants and opinions,
creative text art, recipes for yummy food, reviews of stuff, technical theory,
or anything else that you want to share with the world! Don't let what's been
done already stop you from doing something else.
Thanks and enjoy your day...
copywrong 2002 issue 16
angstmonster.org 12.23.02
Feel free to redistribute this document, although no fee can be charged and the
content must not be altered or modified in any way. Unauthorized use of any
part of this document is prohibited. All rights reserved. (and stuff)
