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Angstmonster 22
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+ _____ ____ ____ ______/ |_____ ____ ___ ______/ |___________ +
* \__ \/ \ / __ \/ ___\ __\ \ _ \/ \/ ___\ __/__ \_ __ \ *
+ / __ \_ | \ /_/ >\__ \| | Y Y \<_> ) | \__ \| |\ ___/| | \/ +
* (____ /_| /___ /____ >|__|__|_| /___/__| /___ >|__| \__ \|__| *
+ \/ \/____/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ +
* 03.11.03 angstmonster issue 22 *
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¡edited (poorly) by gir¡
§+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++¡contents¡++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++§
+ +
+ Brief words from gir (at work) +
+ Rap Wit Me wayne +
+ Haiku kool peith +
+ TURD HAPPENS! ascii bat +
+ Fibercon estell +
+ Sleep - Part 2 steak
+ Surprise Me tweak +
+ +
§+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++¡contents¡++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++§
Averell [averell@averell.shell-ip.de] has joined #acromp3
<oregano2k> hi Avril Lavagne
<lb> ZING
<swissphil> STUNG BY THE O
<girbles> see YOU later boy
<swissphil> BOOYAH
<lb> the warez community is like the fucking freemasons of IRC
<matrix> it's cool to be having ppl hitting your server for
pipedoublethreeplus warez though...
<lb> I do like the sound of that though
<lb> -9 month baby
<lb> negativeninemonthbaby
<lb> it has multiple implications
<lb> you can say jizz, or eggs, or sex right now, but without a condom,
or with an ineffective or broken condom
<lb> it's a pretty loaded phrase, no pun intended
----------------
: Brief Words :
: from gir :
: (at work) :
----------------
I'm coming to you live from work! Sans computer, sans delete button, I'm
taking tfile to a place it's never been before, a NOTEPAD!!! Where each and
every character is unique, a distant relative of the normal ASCII characters
that make up a tfile. It's treacherous land to cross, the barrier between print
and ASCII but I can't neglect my duties as the editor of ANGSTMONSTER!!! Some
of you might be confused saying "gir doesn't work! Even when he does, it turns
out disastrous. GIR CAN'T SELL ANYTHING!" But how we know gir has a job
selling things? Maybe he's a farmer or a trashman... maybe he should out and
writes for some fancy rag with a salary and everything... or maybe... I
should stick to writing aboot the issue at hand... the 22nd installment of
angstmonster!!! There's a story to be told that's much more relevant to
angstmonster than stories of me at work: namely a story about my love of the
dumpster.
During the winter months, many a fierce animal can be found dormant in a state
of hibernation. For whatever reason (inclement weather, habit, sheer laziness,
genetics) these animals decide nothing fun happens during the winter. But,
dumpsters are might and resilient. It takes more than a blizzard cloud dumping
its innards on the east coast for dumpsters to be stopped. However, a mere
tfile writer like me is very timid when it comes to snow. I'll eat it (so long
as it isn't yellow) but when snow has multiple feet, you'll find me hiding
indoors.
Why does this matter? Because for over a year now I've been part of a love
affair with dumpsters... They mean so much to me and when snow grows feet, I
can't make it to see my dumpsters. This winter old man snow beast was being
extra greedy and keeping all the dumpster love for himself. Eventually global
warming melted him away and I was free to my dumpsters in the wild. But things
had changed. I was to find that in my absence, old man snow beast was not
the only one to have dived in my dumpsters.
A tribe of pygmy scavengers led by Wayne and Tweak ransacked me after my first
post snow dumpster dive. I was taken deep below the surface of a dumpster into
a world of scavenged electronics this is a jawa's wet dream (no jawas were
found however) It was here that I met Wayne and Tweak.
"State your name, occupation, and purpose in our dumpsters."
"Your dumpsters!?! These are mine!"
"Foolish mortal, these have been ours since before your time!"
"What are you talking about? You're both mortal too, I can tell. Probably my
age too."
"So? You're still jealous of our collection of salvaged electronics."
"Yeah dude, our parents kicked us out of the house. That's why we live in the
bottomless dumpster..."
"That sucks. Can I get my stuff back?"
"NO!! t was in our dumpster and is rightfully ours."
"Your pygmies took my wallet. That was in my pocket..."
"You're right! Now we must rifle through it to see who you are!!!"
They proceeded to rifle through my wallet commenting on the lack of cash and
the fact that my driver's license picture was silly.
"What's this card? Member of the Current Text Scene?"
"Oh, he's a tfiler."
"What if I am?"
"Can we be part of CDC? PLEASE!?!"
"I'm just a CDC wannabe."
"Oh."
"Then we have to kill you."
"Yeah you can't let people know about our secret lair..."
"WAIT! I can't get you into CDC but I can make you famous!"
"How?"
"Write for angstmonster..."
"You know the angstmonster!?!"
"I AM THE ANGSTMONSTER!"
The ground began to quake as I affirmed to them that I was THE angstmonster.
"We're so sorry. Please let us write for your ezine."
"Sure, just give me my stuff back."
On that day, an alliance was formed, angstmonster had two new writers, and we
all lived happily ever after in ezine glory. (even if we aren't members of
CDC... That's all we want, CDC affiliation!!!)
I mean, this issue kicks ass.
--------------
: Rap Wit Me :
: by wayne :
--------------
Hi! My name is Wayne and I'm here to teach you about the game that some people
still call rap, isn't that crap that some smoothed over sillies still refer to
it like it's giving gifts and that makes me pissed. Thanks to angstmonster, I
can tell you that it's more than that and if you wanna play, drop the gats
cause it ain't about that! All you have to do is step up to bat and let the
sound of your voice crack over a microphone while you let go of every piece of
picture in your head, step up and say what no one else has said because in the
game you have only yourself to blame when you sound the same as the main man on
the radio, he doesn't know you and you don't know him, he's got platinum albums
already but don't sweat it none of that will matter when you're on stage or in
the middle of a swirling circle of color and animated peoples who got up from
their seats with beats in the back of their mind that just flow without space
or time getting in the way of the convictions you hold strong to. But if this
is stuff you already knew, why you still sitting their with that smug look on
your face? Doesn't it bother you that you haven't written anything yet?
Ever look in the mirror and wonder what it is about a person that makes them
wanna get up and scream into a microphone? If you have, why aren't you doing
the same thing?
I'll let you think about that for the next time when I school you with the
tools you can use to light the fuse to the bomb that is kept in your lungs with
a set of vocal chords meant to praise the lords and gods of every beat you've
ever been brought thanks to the two statellites you call ears.
-----------------
: Haiku :
: by kool peith :
-----------------
natural resources
Gentle pastel air
Contrasts anything here.
These days run shorter.
the invasion of currency
Vibrant lush moss
creeps into the forest.
Rev up the chainsaw.
jealousy
Love is in the air
and the heat boils my blood.
Only death stops this.
regret
I remember that.
It was a very bad day.
I couldn't stop you.
:!!!:-:-:-:CEX QUOTE:-:-:-:!!!:
"All it takes
is a believer
to be a jesus
and a book of matches
to be a phoenix"
"intangible," -cex
:!!!:-:-:-:CEX QUOTE:-:-:-:!!!:
-----------------
: TURD HAPPENS! :
: by ascii bat :
-----------------
[This file was sent to me in part of a letter I recieved from ascii bat after
the unexplained halt of TURD releases. -gir]
THE FOLLOWING IS AN OFFICAL UPDATE FROM THE UNDEAD RISE DAMNIT ON THE STATE OF
THINGS CONCERNING THE MEMBERS OF TURD...
To the readers and fans of TURD,
You may have noticed that we haven't updated our page in a while and I
apologize for not being a better zombist tfile producer but something terrible
has happened: I've been taken hostage by local law enforcement and been placed
under their supervision until I have a court hearing.
It wasn't something that was meant to happen, but it just sorta did. Had I
known my responsibilities as a zombie tfile maker would've been neglected for so
long, I probably would've reconsidered my actions, but the fact of the matter
is an army of zombie squirrels would've been unstoppable.
I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for PETA! For some reason,
introducing squirrels to zombism isn't viewed as an "ethical" way to treat
a squirrel. Then again, having to explain what zombism is in a court of law
was no easy task. Hopefully when the decision is made, I shall be found
innocent of any crime.
For all the TURDlings out there, this plan to form an unstoppable army of
squirrel zombies was brought to my attention by my newlywed bride, Mrs. Avril
Lavine (now known as Mrs. Avril Lavine Bat, Bat being my surname) who has since
left me. After my capture, she thought it'd be best for our son to not see his
father ruined by the horrible beast that is the judicial system. (That's
right! We had a kid within the passed two months since we met and wed in
Haiti! He's a real stinker too! LITERALLY! ALL that zombie flesh rubbing
back and forth during all the baby zombie making process cause can quite a
stink) Avril has agreed however to tell my sad tale on the her sophomore
album which she will dedicate to our squirrel army that never was.
But being that the court case is still "in session" I can't go into too much
detail at the moment. It may be that one of the readers of angstmonster turns
up in my jury. I wouldn't want to taint the case with a bias member of the
jury.
While the case continues however, I will remain a hostage of the state. For
this reason, I shall suspend the release of TURD files. My abilities to
perform as an editor can not be met while in prison. I will continue to write
for angstmonster though, mostly about my situation and the occasional "zombism
for n00bz" article. Don't worry, TURD shall return...
That's all I have to say. Please send all inquires as to my condition to gir.
He is the only person I wish to communicate with other than my lawyer. My
broken zombie heart can't bear to take on anyone new at this time. I apologize
and hope that everyone understands.
I don't want TURD to die, believe me when I say that, it's just out of my hands
right now.
--------------
: Fibercon :
: by estell :
--------------
I dissolve in the stomach acid, and after what seems like days approach the
colon. It is now that I know my single day of intense labor will begin. I grab
and cling as I slowly move scraping down the wretched drainage pipe of that I
call work. Reaching out and absorbing all the leftovers that didn't quite make
it out to the toilet, I know that I shall make a difference, at least for this
man or woman. I bring cleanliness to a world filled only with stench and
refuse. I prevent the cancer that could come to you when you refuse to cleanse
the being that is your colon! I clean and scrape all so you can produce healthy
stools. I am Fibercon, and I'm here just for you.
<>-OMFG-<>-#2600-<>-IS-<>-THE-<>-BEST-<>-THING-<>-EVER-<>
<telephed2> i would love to learn how to hack websites,
not to do damage, but to get in tell the admin i was
able to get in, clear the logs and get out :)
<gir> that makes some admins angry
<gir> then they steal your children
<gir> and eat them
<gir> deep fried with oreos
<nulluid> i like children
<nulluid> but I can't eat a whole one
<>-OMFG-<>-#2600-<>-IS-<>-THE-<>-BEST-<>-THING-<>-EVER-<>
------------------
: Sleep - Part 2 :
: by steak :
------------------
That sleep has been getting to me again. But this time it's not the fact that
I am never properly prepared for sleep's pre-emptive strike of extreme
tiredness that's fucking with me, it's the process that my mind goes into every
time I sleep. The cataloguing and classification of the days events into
manageable easy to digest chunks of brain fart.
Only it's never that simple is it? No. Where I am at the moment there are
certain things I don't want to think about. Things that I put a considerable
effort into trying to forget, feelings that I tell myself don't exist and I
enjoy spending large amounts of my energy denying the existence of these
feelings to myself, and in the day time I'm happy that I can go about my day
without these thoughts interfering with my life.
But in the world of sleep all bets are off, anything goes, and most often does.
All the things that I devote time an effort into not thinking about are dug up
and displayed for the world to see, and it's not a pretty sight. When your
personal closet is ripped apart and all the skeletons fall out, smashing their
disembodied bones everywhere it's often quite hard to know exactly where you
are.
Watching as a waiter spits in your food is bad enough, but then sitting down
and eating it for some reason even though you know that there is defiantly a
high chance of there being really big squiggly boogers in there somewhere is a
scenario I have experienced more than once in my dreams, and I've never been
able to work out why the hell I sit down and eat the stuff as apposed to
getting up and smacking the waiter one right in the face.
Dreams can really hurt to, they can be painful. In the waking world I have
ways of dealing with things I'm not happy about, ways of working around things
I can't have. In the dream world, I'm living in, well a dream. Things that I
want are given to me, in lavish quantities; I start forgetting all those
devices that I've created to take my mind off the things I don't have and I
feel great realising that I'll never need them again.
But the dream fades, leaving me with the harsh reality, the truth and the
fact, instead of the fantasies. Or worse still, the dream hasn't faded and I'm
left in this half screwed up reality trying to work out how I should best go
about telling everyone that they are figments of my imagination, either that or
I'm left looking at all the things I want, all the things I was certain I had
back only a few seconds ago, watching them now fade like a sailing ship
floating serenely over the horizon, and laughing at me.
Sleep isn't my best friend at the moment, I'm not happy with it. It's a cruel,
unnecessary waste of energy and it makes me feel like shit when I wake up. If
only I could invent some machine that could instantly reproduce all the
positive attributes of sleep but without all the tedious messing around with
hours of unconsciousness and masochistic hallucinations, surely that's
possible? Are any of those overactive amphetamine addicted Japanese scientists
listening? Are they? Come on guys!
---------------
: Surprise Me :
: by tweak :
---------------
If everyone was like me, then the smells would radiate until no end.
I was once a part of an army who did unforgivable things.
The silence climbed my favorite tree, just to scare me.
If we are to survive, someone will have to get good at cooking babies.
I refuse to believe that you are telling the truth.
The village she was from was made famous by the monsters that took up
residence there.
<oregano2k> how angry is the angstmonster?
<oregano2k> test his temper
<oregano2k> with a 10 foot section of iron
<oregano2k> how grizzled is the angstmonster?
<oregano2k> test his grist
<oregano2k> with a sheet of sanded paper
<oregano2k> how grumpy and grimy is the angstmonster?
<oregano2k> test his mettle
<oregano2k> with dank and darkness
<oregano2k> but whatever you do
<oregano2k> do not wake the angstmonster
<oregano2k> or it shall be the end of you
æææææææææææææææææææ
æ Æfterthought(s) æ
æææææææææææææææææaæ
The late great, spring break edition of angstmonster was brought to you in part
by the lack of motivation, having an anthropology paper due the the same time
as angstmonster, and some other stuff that wasn't really important to the birth
of the 22nd installment of angstmonster.
Be on the look out for the ALL ANGST ALL THE TIME ISSUE that comes out on March
24! That will certainly be on time. PROMISES AND HUGS AND LOVE TO ALL THE
PEOPLE WISHING THEY WERE CDC TOO. HACKER GROUP FANBOYS UNITE UNDER ONE BANNER
TO FIGHT THE WAR ON IRAQ! YEAH!
_____
/ |\ |\ /\ |\ |
\ | | |/ |/ < > |/ | *
/ |_| | | \/ |\ | *
http://www.bubblemonkey.org/cheesencrackers/ !CHEESENCRACKERS!
http://www.neo-comintern.com *THE NEO-COMINTERN*
http://turd.angstmonster.org THE UNDEAD RISE, DAMMIT!
http://www.textscene.com CURRENT TEXTFILE SCENE
?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?
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, etc.
Thanks and enjoy your day...
copy-spwep 2003 issue 22
angstmonster.org 03.11.03
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)
