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Grill 005
t h e o n e a n d o n l y . . .
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x... S$$$$$$$$.......| --' | | |..... S$$$$$$$.............x
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| `9&$$$$$$$$$$$$$9' _: _| _:. .. __| `&$$$$$$$$$$$$$9'
`/________________/ `/_______________/
_______________
.$ $. |ARRRR! hand me | $$$$
$$ $S |one of yer | $$|$$$
S$ $S |sausages!! | s$$$(+)$$$$s
S$$ $$S |______________ | $$$$$$$$$$$$
`S$//. .\\S' \\ `| /' |'
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| \ XXX .. $$$$$$$$$$$$$' XXX XXX
| \ \ VV || `$$$$$$$$$$$' XXX____XXX
||;\ \____ __ \ / xx XX|
||__\ | | || | .----.
| \______| =| || | `____'
| \__| || | |
| o | || || | | |
|________| || ||_ | | |
| \ \\ /ss\\ | | |
|+++\_/+++| \\ |__|O| |___|__|
| | \\____________________ / // /
| | | | `__/__//
| | | by odin's beard! |
| | | the bratwurst is |
| | | | done! |
| | | |_____________________|
|____|____|
(this whole damn ascii by shadow tao)
=-=-[MAY 4, 1995]-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
| |
| CONTENTS OF ISSUE #5 OF GRILL (The zine for Heretics): |
| |
| <1> Edge of Sanity (The INTRO) |
| <2> Straight Outta Jotenheim |
| <3> OH YEAH? TWO CAN PLAY AT THAT GAME! |
| <4> The Dialogue Minute |
| <5> Former Yugoslav Republics Revisited |
| <6> Wesley Willis presents |
| <7> Cold Fusion and the Lesser Aspects of Infinity |
| <8> Response to Article #7 |
| <9> Response to Article #8 |
|<10> FUN PLACEMATS |
|<11> The Hipness of the Elderly |
|<12> Random Select |
|<13> The Importance of Correcting This Issue's Grammar |
|<14> A BIG FLAMING CROSS |
|<15> Rant & Rave about Various Things |
| |
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
=-= You call this a supercomputer? =-=
=-= Introduck, by Quarex =-=
Amazingly enough, this issue of Grill's production actually began less
than a week after the last one's release. I'm not sure what happened, but it
was probably the fact that Grill #4 was a lot better than the two before it
had been, therefore giving everyone that wonderful adrenaline rush. It's the
same adrenaline rush that makes men make mincemeat mounds of mostly monotone
Monkeys, the same rush that urges us to build castles out of sand, and the
same rush that FUELS the burning desire to alliterate.
So, what's the story, you ask? I'll tell you what the story is. The
new Amorphis album is coming out soon (May 4, supposedly). Also, the new
Carcass album is due in June, the new Overkill finally got here last week,
the new ManOwaR is due in August, and the new My Dying Bride actually got
reviewed in Rolling Stone (complete with a good review, I think). Looks like
the metal scene is rollin' along pretty well right now. Unfortunately, the
new Metallica is coming out, and from everything I've heard it's somewhere
between a really bad White Zombie and Soundgarden musically, with lyrics akin
to Oasis' (Metallica's favorite band).
And now, let's type an update to that paragraph, since it was written
a good month ago. The new Amorphis came out all over the U.S. on the 14th,
but unfortunately our Best Buy does not yet stock it. The new Carcass is
still not out, since it's still not June. It is also not August yet.
However, I heard one of the new Metallica songs (Until It Sleeps) and just
loved it. I've never been too much of a Metallica fan before, but I really
dig their new style of pretending to be metal but not even trying to be :)
And now, one final update to that, the day of Grill's release. I heard
the rest of the new Metallica album the other day, and suffice to say that
it's half total crap (including one COUNTRY song, almost), and half pretty
damn cool, albeit barely metal-ish. I also heard the new Amorphis and
Carcass albums thanks to Ghort the other day, and Amorphis is still the
greatest death metal band on earth. Carcass' new one isn't nearly as fast as
Heartwork, and just kinda got boring overall.
Now that the metal paragraphs are over, it's time to get down to
business. So, just toss your jeans out the window, hit the ground screaming,
and throw oranges at the postman, cuz you're fucked. You're already
full-swing into Grill #5.
/// F i N >>>
*** Written By: Shadow Tao ***
_)----(____)----(____)----(____)----(____)----(____)----(____)----(__
.%$ copyright 1996 shadow tao.. ..doomed to obscurity press. $%.
____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____
--( )----( )----( )----( )----( )----( )----( )--
STRAIGHT OUTTA JOTENHEIM
the street outside the cafe was bustling with the denizens of
San Francisco. being so near to chinatown kept the business booming,
but the clientele was never steady. from one week to the next, you
could almost expect a complete change in face from the regulars. one
week - bikers and leather fetishists. next week - ecoterrorists and
businessmen. you never could tell. perhaps it was this fact that
attracted them. you never could be out of place in that cafe. henry's
was never a place to call home.
they entered amidst the exit of several animal rights marchers.
one was tall and wore a black longcoat, his grey shirt and beige pants
peeking out from beneath the seam and shadow. the other was casual,
wearing a subdued pastel shirt and dockers. the slight scuff of the
second's loafers was echoed by his companions heavy steps. they worked
their way past the wicker chairs out front, and into the back. a booth
suited them a little more. the relative dark of the back kept them
away from the current rabble.
a wisp of a amerasian man made his way to the two.
pulling a pen and pad from his apron, he greets them.
"i'm alan, and i'll be your server today. what would you gentlemen
care to drink today," he says, letting his glance drop onto the elder
of the two. he clicks the pen with his thumb.
pulling off the longcoat, the man says
"mead. strong." alan glazes over and mechanically writes
down the order.
"and for you?" alan is smiling warmly.
"hmm." the second man adjusts his wire rimmed glasses and
scans the 'speciality' chalkboard over the bar. pondering.
"i think i'll just have a cafe mocha, no cream."
"okay, i'll have your drinks for you in a few minutes."
alan winks at odin, unaware at his present company.
odin, a well built man, is large in frame and stature. his grey hair
and beard are neat and well kept. there is just a hint of silver, not
only in his hair and eyes, but in his speech. bold, cold, and bright.
his voice is almost too loud and imposing not to be heard, but still
unnoticed by the other patrons.
"so. tell me your tales, son."
"when is zeus going to learn that you can't just _drown_ that
many people on whimsey anymore? i mean, people notice these kind of
things."
"balder.. he _isn't_. he isn't going to do anything that
'cramps his style.' by frigg's toes, what an idiot that one is."
the second one plays with his fork, twisting it on the
off-white napkin. alan rounds the bar with the drinks.
"well, if he doesn't learn some idea of what people today
expect from us, he's going to get cast down."
"here's your drinks! enjoy!" alan sacharinely smiles.
"thanks."
"thank you."
"well, i doubt if he'll get cast down. the gods don't do that
for leaders much. it's not good for the belief structure."
outside, a band of christian activists are passing out leaflets
and screaming at people. tuning them out, the elder man looks at his
son.
"i feel the presence of vulcan. he's coming to meet us."
balder rolls his eyes and leans back against the booth.
"oh great, more talk of his wife's 'incessant groaning'."
"hush. he's near, and i have enough problems with his whole
group already."
the door's bell tinkles quietly.
"here he is. be quiet."
"i really wish he would wear a shirt sometimes."
"hey odin! chatting with your ugliest, i see." vulcan smiles
with all the charm of wet soot.
vulcan makes his way to there table, standing directly at the
end. his apron is stained with rust and lead scrapings.
"you're one to talk, you mountain-dwelling hammer monkey."
balder looks up with the innocence of a doe, sipping briefly
on his coffee.
the dark god pulls out a pocket knife and begins to pick the
grime from underneath his cracked and dirty fingernails.
balder takes another sip, staring at the intricate blade.
"did you hear the council is going to convene on the membership
of Jotunheim delegation?"
"no. what did they do this time?"
one of the activists rushes a group of asatru, waving a bible
at them, screaming redemption in the lamb, jesus christ.
odin looks out towards the street.
"oh, it was something to do with black metal and burning
christians, i suppose."
"hel. that's pretty small potatoes compared to last year."
the activist stops cold. in his mind, a man of radiant
countenance is jostling lewdly with a greek woman. so beautiful, the
shining man almost seems like. .. like god. but.. no. it couldn't be.
the picture is everywhere the man sees. he screams out; he knows that
it is god. it's just.. he couldn't.. but it is him.. but.
"oh no, father what have you done?! not again! please tell me
you didn't do what i think you just did!"
but god couldn't be him, because he had done that. he had
fondled that woman, on his last vacation. it couldn't be. but how did
_he_ know? how did he *do* that? that couldn't be god, it had to be
some kind of punishment!
the man screamed, dropping his bible onto the sidewalk.
wailing and crying, he throws himself into the street. kneeling on
the asphalt, he stares up at the sky and holds his temples with his
hands. the truck doesn't even try to stop.
the scream dies. the blast of the horn even dies with a little time.
"heh. remember when the christian's god went with your wife
to cancun? that man just got a view of their vacation slides."
balder drops his head into his hands.
a cold silence filled the cafe.
with a glinty stare, vulcan turned and left, his boots pounding
on the boards like a jackhammer. storming out the door and onto the
sidewalk, he is lost quickly as a he becomes a part of the freakish
parade.
"wow. killing heathens and getting rid of vulcan at the same
time. amazing. you're on a roll today, dad."
"yes. it _has_ been a good day."
"the christian's god shouldn't wear bikini briefs."
sip.
"no, he shouldn't."
__)----(____)----(____)----(____)----(____)----(____)----(____)----(__
.%$ copyright 1996 shadow tao.. ..doomed to obscurity press. $%.
____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____
--( )----( )----( )----( )----( )----( )----( )--
(Isn't his ego-ascii just the most adorable thing ever? :) -Q)
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))) FIN (((
*** Written By: Quarex ***
OH YEAH? TWO CAN PLAY AT THAT GAME!
/~~~~~~_ /~ /~ /~~~~~ /~~~~ /~~~~~ /~~~ /~~~
/~~~~~~~~ /~~ /~~ /~~~~~~~ /~~~~~~ /~~~~~~ /~~~ /~~~
/~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ ~~ /~~ /~~~ /~~~
/~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ ~~ /~~ /~~~ /~~~
/~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ ~~ /~~ /~~~/~~
/~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~~~~~~ /~~~~~~ /~~~~ /~~~
/~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~~~~~~ /~~~~~~ /~~~~ /~~~
/~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ ~~ /~~ /~~/~~~
/~~ \/~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ ~~~ /~~ /~~~ /~~~
/~~ \/~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ ~~~ /~~ /~~~ /~~~
/~~~~~~~~ /~~~~~~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ ~~~ /~~~~~~ /~~~ /~~~
/~~~~~~\\ /~~~~~ /~~ /~~ /~~ ~~~ /~~~~~ /~~~ /~~~
So what if yours is a lot better? At least I made mine myself :)
And now, a brief update to last month's dating-competition symbolism:
Without consciously realizing it was happening, I gradually began sliding
towards the starting line again, with Jason, the winner, blowing harder and
harder towards me so that I would continue my slow slide towards the very
beginning again. My attempts to stop my backtracking has only resulted in
the trophy doing a good job of ignoring me, and falling asleep on the phone
with me. So, in retaliation, I left the stadium and pretended it didn't
exist. But, later, the trophy and I both agreed that it was a bad idea, so
we consented to the typical platonic trophy-runner relationship. I
understand that I have to train much harder if I expect to win my next race,
though I have serious doubts about ever coming in higher than third.
LITURGY IN PINK!
||| FIN |||
*** Written By: Swiss Pope & Shadow Tao ***
THE DIALOGUE MINUTE
SP: Hello R.J. How are you today?
rj: i'm summoning the air demons, forming tornadoes and other assorted
weather disturbances.
SP: <disinterested> Really? That sounds really cool. Say, do you have this
week's lottery numbers?
rj: no. <looks at watch> hmm. bowling.
Suddenly, a giant bowling bowl rolls into the room, much like the boulder
from the weird Incan place in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark.
rj: whoa. i love you, nuclear bomb. hmm. what should we do about all this?
SP: <pulling a wakisashi from his sash> Time to open a can of whoop-ass!
rj: <summoning tiamat> hey! no more lies!
The boulder stops right before it tramples R.J. and SwissPope. A hatch opens
in the side of the boulder and two members of Def Leppard strut out, singing,
"Hey! No More Lies!" A guitar riff thunders throughout the chamber.
rj: hmm. that wasn't necessary.
rip taylor: hahah! holy mackerel! (throws fish with holes.)
SP: Rip Taylor? Who are you... Hey.. seafood!
rip taylor: don't you remember me from the hollywood squares?
rj: i think we should go to Arnies, the restaurant from Police Quest 2, which
magically has been replicated at the Bloomington-Normal airport!
Def Leppard members (in unison): POLICE QUEST 2!! Hey did you ever figure
out how to get through the sewers of Steelton?
rj: um. i think it had something to do with the whale uvula? no. wait. it
had something to do where you were going? i don't remember.
christ appears. "hola mi amigos!"
all: fuck off!
Christ begins to cry.
Christ: I'm a messiah, I don't deserve this kind of shit.
Christ wears a halberd jacket. "Time to kick ass!" he screeches.
Satanic Football Coach: YEAH! kick ASS@!!@#
and the beast was norman lear.
catholic choir: jim j bullock nobis.. deo pacem..
Def Leppard members: Go out for the long bomb.. that means you, monk-face..
christ appears before a large amount of feces.
"know no fear."
CHo: "WHere have my carrots gone--
Ho Chi minh knocks the keyboard from Quarex's hands.
chun li: TANSHO! (translated: "your penis is small.")
Christ: I know Japanese, you faggot.
Def Leppard members: hey. there's no need for homophobia!
BRETT ARRIVES, WE ALL DIE.
": FIN :"
*(* Written by: Murmur *)*
Former Yugoslav Republics revisited
Although he was a Serb, the Bosnian on the Yugoslav High Council thingy
had to abstain from voting on the decision to use force to stop the protests
in Zagreb.
Now we examine Kosovo.
There was a war in Croatia! About 250,000 people died! It kicked a
lion's ass!
CROOOAAAAATIA CROOOAAAAATIA
Rock over London, Rock over Kosovo; Midwest Exchange -- We buy, sell,
or trade!
///NIF\\\
*)* Written by: Murmur *(*
Wesley Willis presents
This is the song I am going to sing for you now
It is called Rock Quarry
They mine rock in the Rock Quarry!
There are over two hundred people in the pit!
The industrisal machines kick a panda's ass!
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
The men go home at night and get drunk!
They have had a rough day!
They go beat their wives!
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
The next day they will come back
They must mine more rock
Lots of people will meet the workers!
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
ROOOOOCKK QUAAARRY
Rock Over London
Rock Over Chicago
Skittles: Taste The Rainbow!
***FIN!***
*** Written by: Erzebet ***
Cold Fusion and the Lesser Aspects of Infinity
What a world we live in nowadays, huh? We've got fucking phones in
cars, digital movies beamed into our houses, computers that move fast enough
to melt steel, and that's just the tip of the super information iceburg.
Still, in this techno-enlightened age of networks and extremely bad movies
that show networks doing things they could never possibly do, it's nice to
remember the somewhat more arcaic devices that we use and point out their
bitter flaws. In this article, I want to talk about one such device,
commonly known as a "car" but what I like to call "motion buckets" because,
well, I'm strange that way.
Ah, the automobile. It grants us the ability of being able to get
across town in a few minutes (depending, of course, on what car you own, what
town you live in, and the attitudes of all the other car owning people living
around the car you own in the town you live in) and even across the country
in days. It gives us the ability to be where we want to be, when we want to
be there (allthough there are a great number of us who completly choose to
ignore the latter of those privlidges, and you know who you are). Yet, I was
noticing the other day, as I sat in my car being pushed from behind towards
my house by my dad because the battery had died, I noticed "hey, is there
another invention on this planet that is so useful, yet becomes so
horrifically worthless when it isn't working?"
Actually, its even worse than that. A car is a wonderful thing to have
when it's in tip top shape, but the moment it dies, well then, it might as
well be a giant fucking boulder sitting there. Yeah, it has wheels, but
unless you want to play bumpercars across town, its all pretty futile, eh? I
mean, here you have this massive machine that is broken, and it can't even be
used as a paperweight. The only thing its good for is blocking the drive
until you get it towed.
Anyway, that wasn't a terribly interesting thing to talk about, but it
was something that struck me as being really weird (not unlike my strange
affliction to saying "bless you" when someone sneezes. If we're going to do
that, we should have little sayings for every bodily excretion...). Anyway,
that's really all I have to say this issue, in this particular odd little
corner of GRiLL. So, until next month, don't die, you rat bastards...
]]] FIN [[[
*** Written by: Quarex ***
Response to Article #7
Yes, Erzebet, there IS another invention which becomes so useless when it
stops working. It's called the human body! Actually, that's not an
invention. But if it were, then it would be just as worthless. You're a big
dumb shit-head, Erzebet! JEEZE! I HATE YOU! YOU SUCK!
Seriously, other inventions that become useless are:
Computers, Trains, Fans, Cotton Gins, Lollypop Rotators, Cufflinks, Arrow
Keys, Calculators, Wankel-Rotary Engines, Depeche Mode, Aaron Spelling, and
slightly rusted teething utilities.
???FIN???
*** Written by: Quarexopulous ***
Response to Article #8
Quarex, you are fucking. You editor of 'zine! You are not make fun of
Erzebet. I hate you. You make me cry. You are a stupid and fucking people.
You die! Thanks! Fucking you would making me happy!! You are fuck.
>>>FIN<<<
*** Written by: Swiss Pope ***
FUN PLACEMATS
=============
I go to Denny's an awful lot. Maybe 4 or 5 times a week. Since I pour so
much money (or so little money; I usually only order coffee) into the
restaurant, I think they should add some features to accomodate my needs as a
usual customer. Now I know they'll totally ignore my requests for a plastic
ball pit or internet-cafesque computer terminals built into the seats, but
perhaps they could start with simple enhancements, such as FUN PLACEMATS. Ok,
maybe they do have Fun Placemats available to those who order kids' meals,
but I've never actually ordered a kids' meal, so I wouldn't know. In any
case, I'm advocating Fun Placemats for everyone!
Often I'll come to Denny's and sit with people who actually want to eat food.
When other people eat food, I want to eat food. That means I'll have to
spend money, and that's bad. In order to divert my gluttonious attention
from their food plate of fatty goodness, I need something else to occupy my
time. This could easily be fulfilled if I had a Fun Placemat.
Other times, I'll be sitting with some guy is who trying to hit on some
chick. Suppose I want to talk about something intelligent. Will I get any
useful input from them? You can bet your grandma's suspenders that they will
pay absolutely no attention to me.
Let's consider the following situation: Hip Fred and Seductive Sue are
hitting it off quite well. Pernicious Phil decides to join their table and
have a nice chat with them. Here's a sample situation:
Hip Fred: Hey Sue... Do you wanna go to the Dance Club?
Seductive Sue: <giggle> ¨D¢nde puedo obtener una botella de gas butano?
Hip Fred: We can dance... all night long. Heh, heh, heh.
Seductive Sue: <giggle> ... una botella de gas propano?
Pernicious Phil joins the table.
Pernicious Phil: Hi guys! Do you want to have a serious discussion?
Hip Fred: Oh. Hello Phil.
Seductive Sue: <giggle> El calentador de immersi¢n est roto.
Pernicious Phil: What do you guys think about Time Warner's purchase of
Ted Turner's cable empire, forming the largest media
conglomerate in history? U.S. West, a telecommunications
company that holds a partnership with Time Warner, took
them to court, but U.S. West lost the case.
Hip Fred: Ahem. So Sue, that's a nice pair of legs you have.
Seductive Sue: <giggle> ¨Puedo haber un huevo pasado por agua?
Pernicious Phil: Come on guys, don't it scare you just a little bit that one
company can have so much power over the media? One cannot
doubt the tremendous influencial power of the media on today's
"sound-bite" society.
At this point, Hip Fred tosses his straw on the floor and kindly asks Sue to
pick it up for him, so he can stare down her shirt.
Hip Fred: Oh yes..
Seductive Sue: <giggle> Necesito crema de afeitar..
Hip Fred: Whatever you want, baby..
Seductive Sue: <giggle> Me he roto la dentadura.
Pernicious Phil: Oh bother. It is times like these when I wish I had a Fun
Placemat.
Hip Fred: A Fun Placemat? What a marvelous concept. Please, tell me more
about this fun placemat you speak of.
Seductive Sue: <giggle> ¨Hay un jard¡n bot nico cerca?
Hip Fred completely ignores Sue while Pernicious Phil tells him of the
wonders of the Fun Placemat. Here are some features of the Fun Placemat that
Pernicious Phil tells Hip Fred about..
Cookies 'n Cream Chocolate Milk
(-----------------------------)
I woke up at 1:30p.m. as usual <-- Every week some one could send in
and snuck into the kitchen, not a short piece describing a unique
to disturb my parents, who were experience that he or she has had.
entranced by a golf game on the
television. So I pulled a jug
of milk out of the fridge and I
think.. something is wrong with
this scene. Oh well. I opened
the cabinet and took out a new The piece might be akin to something
container of the Quik chocolate found in Reader's Digest's "Life such a rustic, idyllic lifestyle. I
milk mix. What's this? Why did in These United States" section.
Mom buy COOKIES AND CREAM mix? It would be something for the
Well, I'm an open-minded guy so readers to reflect upon and make
I'll give it a shot. I scooped them think, "Gee, if only I lived
out some of the powder, and man such a charming, rustic life. I
that stuff looked weird. Either wish I didn't have a genetic
it looked like crushed granite, disorder which prevents me from
or it looked like some mixture participating in normal human
that your chemistry teacher did activities. If only I didn't have
not want you to mess with. None this third limb that prevents me
the less, I stirred some in the from competing in the McLean county
glass, expecting that the milk bicycle race. They told me, `It
would turn a nice poop-shade of wouldn't be fair. You have an extra
brown. It didn't happen. Too limb, you can't be in this race.'
curious for my own good, I took Bullshit, it was discrimination and
a swig of the fluid, which was I smelled it a mile away. Oh, if
now boiling at this point. Why only..."
wasn't I thinking straight? It
tasted odd. Then I noticed that
my arm started growing rapidly.
All of a sudden, my torso began Well, you get the idea.
to wildly disfigure. What was
happening? Oh, I was doomed to
be a freak for the remainder of
my days. Thank you, Quik Bunny.
The next thing that the Fun Placemat could feature is a MAZE. I mean, a
really hard maze. Harder than anything a pussy like Theseus would have to
wander through while searching for some pussy-assed Minotaur.
Ok, this is MY maze. It's called:
MAZE OF DOOM or THE QUEST TO ESCAPE FROM THE EVIL SKULL RING.
The object of the maze is to collect all six MOON ORBS and assemble them
into the Circle of the Pixies and then use their sacred power to destroy
the Evil Skull Ring.
START HERE:
$
| |
+ +--+---+----+\ /\__+--+//__|\-_+ This maze might look a little
| | | E | Z .. \ / +___|\__/|\__| | cryptic, but this key might help
\ \ | | +-- \/|+|_ + +\...&| | you figure it out:
|| / | | |O.__| \_ +\ / +\../ _| E = The Crusher. Stay away from
\_---_| /\0.. | |\ Z| | |E +|.| /+| the Crusher.
| O [ +|..|.| |. . _| |+ \_ | \ | Z = The Oracle. Stay away, stay
\ |. ..+|O |Z | \.+|+ / _-_ \ +|| far away from the Oracle! You
/ | \__ + \.|+ \ 0| | /+| might be thinking, Oracles are
| | ..|+ .. _| |+| |Y\_ |+ / _|+ | good! No, they aren't! At
+ Y|..|E .+| &|+ \_|.. |+ +| ... O| least, not in this maze. This
|___|-_+____+---+-_+___+----+----+--+ is a bad oracle.
O = The Pit of Despair. Beware!
Oh, and did I mention that there Y = The Flux Capicitor. No, it does
are no Moon Orbs in this maze? No not let you travel in time. On
Pixie Circle, either. The Evil Skull the contrary, it electrocutes
Ring has successfully lured you into little boys and girls. Stay
his MAZE OF DOOM that has no escape! away!
Who in their right mind would enter a + = BARBed Wire. Double the pain,
maze of torturous obstacles just so double the pain. Hmm.. Does
they could escape it? You'd have to that quadruple the pain?
be either pretty stupid or really Nevermind.
masochistic, if you ask me. . = Quicksand. QUICK-SAND! YEAH!
You should've stayed on the park bench 0 = Broken Elevator filled with
that is located right in front of the Shards of Broken Glass
entrance of the maze. Do you see the & = A Water Fountain that Squirts
park bench? It's marked with a "$". Blood or Mountain Dew. It's
That's where the smart people sit. random.
Seductive Sue: <giggle> ¨A que hora abre el zoo?
Pernicious Phil: Well, Seductive Sue, I see you have successfully made your
way through the MAZE OF DOOM.
Hip Fred: Silence! I haven't gotten through it yet... Arghhhhhh...
Pernicious Phil: What happened, Fred? Fall down an empty elevator shaft and
spike yourself upon a pile of glass shards? What a pity..
Pernicious Phil presses a secret button on the underside of the Denny's
table. The hole opens up in the floor and Hip Fred plummets to his death.
Before the waitress can return, the floor promptly closes itself shut.
Lecherously placing his arm around Seductive Sue, Pernicious Phil takes a sip
of the Cookies and Cream Chocolate Milk that had been mysteriously been
delivered to the table. Pernicious Phil's arm grows to monsterous
proportions. While he screams, Sue presses the secret button on the
underside of the table. The hole opens up yet again and Pernicious Phil
plummets to *his* doom. Again, before the waitress can return, the hole
seals itself shut.
Seductive Sue giggles and says, "He should've read the Fun Placemat."
...F(U)IN...
*** Written by: Quarex ***
THE HIPNESS OF THE ELDERLY
This article is being written on inspiration from seeing a huge amount
of elderly people at Old Country Buffet, which is apparently the geriatric
equivalent of Denny's. They interacted, macked, and joked much as young
people do, but with a lot less nonsense. After the decrepit badass with
sunglasses walked in, I knew I would be writing something about it.
THE SCENE: Central booth area of Old Country Buffet
THE PLAYERS: Mabel (73 years old, condescending)
Agnes (95 years old, very senile)
Robert (68 years old, wacky)
James (81 years old, bully)
Helen (88 years old, flirtatious)
Nathaniel (117 years old, hard of hearing)
(At Curtain: MABEL, AGNES, ROBERT, HELEN, and NATHANIEL seated at two
tables)
<James strides in then takes off his sunglasses>
JAMES: Greetings and salutations, all! I had not expected to find such a
myriad of my friends at this establishment!
MABEL: Oh James, you know why you're really here. You just want to get the
money I owe you.
NATHANIEL: I never liked that mother fucker.
AGNES: Spirits! Spirits everywhere! TAKE ME BACK TO OKLAHOMA, MOTHER, MY
TOTEM ANIMAL SEEKS RETRIBUTION FOR THE SINS OF MY LIFE!!
JAMES: Very true, Mabel. I would like my $10 sometime soon, but that is
still hardly the reason I came here.
NATHANIEL: What's that? Ten Wing Fear? What about them?
HELEN: Jamesy, dear, would you like to sit with me?
JAMES: I suppose so. Mabel's purse is so full of shit that it'll take her
no less than a fucking hour to acquire anything I desire!
AGNES: OZZY, JUDAS PRIEST! THERE'S BACKWARDS MESSAGES IN THAT STUFF THAT
LEADS YOU TO THE BEAST! JOHNNY, CAN YOU HEAR ME!?!? OPEN UP THAT
DOOR! I AM TRAPPED IN THE BATHROOM ONCE MORE!!
MABEL: Oh my god it's Johnny,
ALL: Hangin' by his neck!
MABEL: Here's your money, James. I don't understand why you need it now,
though.
JAMES: I haven't been fucked in 20 years, you cunt-eating piece of shit.
ROBERT: Why haven't I had any lines yet? I'm the comic relief!
AGNES: WOO-HAA! GOT YOU ALL IN CHECK!
NATHANIEL: I have something serious to say. This short play is not the
least bit funny. It does nothing but trivialize the honest
relationships which occur between the social elderly every day.
Would any self-respecting elderly man use the phrase "fucking
hour"? No! Never! I cannot tolerate this filth any longer! I
AM LEAVING! THANK YOU AND GOOD-NIGHT!"
<Exeunt Nathaniel>
ROBERT: What a dickless piece of shit.
JAMES: <slipping sunglasses back on, then jumping on a chair> All the
world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have
their exits, and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many
parts.
<Everyone applauds>
<MABEL signs JAMES' sheet>
AGNES: And they call ME the weird one! Tristesses De La Luna.
<waiter walks up to table>
WAITER: EAT FLAMING HOT DEATH, THOU WRINKLED HAG! THOU ART FILTH!
<waiter opens fire on Agnes>
AGNES: Call your damnable hunt.
ALL: Roll out the barrel. . roll out tha barrel, at tha cross-roadz. .
ROBERT: Once. . Even FLOE was alive! Why go Black, Jeremy? Oceans. .
porches. . gardens. . . I need a Deep Release.
MABEL: I'm fairly certain that you need to stop lauding over your beautiful
world soon, lest you be driven insane with glee.
JAMES: Who's up for graduation?
WAITER: Enough talk!
<WAITER throws a dagger at head soldier, mele ensues>
CONAN: Valeria. .
RATFACE: I'm mending your wounds!
GRACE JONES: Stop touching my thighmaster.
GHORT: I'm fine right here.
ALL: So, from all of us at Midas, have a Safe and Happy Ethnic Cleansing.
<curtain>
^^P FIN P^^
*** Written by: Erzebet ***
==============================RANDOMSELECT====================================
(Random Select, just so everyone knows, was created long before Rants and
Raves by Quarex. The origional Random Select was to appear in lemon #4, but
did not make it, for whatever reason (I assume quality was not the issue in
regards to Lemon :). R&R is most likely better, however, but there's always
room for more quirky banter.)
==============================================================================
I would like to find the person who made the phrase "easy as pie" and
beat their heads in. Pie is not easy to make. Trust me. I've made pie
for a long time, and it has never been easy. The crust is a real bitch.
==============================================================================
Young rebels who smoke always amuse me. Funny, how they rebel against
everything, and think their all cool and shit, yet they throw their cash
into the proverbial box of Pandora every time they plunk down a chunk of
change for a pack of cigarettes. Come on guys! Don'y you ever watch the
X-Files?
==============================================================================
Speaking of the X-Files, I think it's about time for Scully to stops
trying to rationalize things. After everything she's seen, it becomes
less and less believable that she could explain things scientifically.
I fully expect her to wake up one day, grab that damn cigarette out of
Cancer Man's hand, put it out on his forhead, and yell "Goddammit!
I want the truth!" Then again, I fully expect them to have an actual
conclusive ending to the show one of these days, too.
==============================================================================
Okay, I admit it. I watch Pro-Wrestling, and I enjoy it. Life is too
short to not like stupid things because everyone else doesn't like them.
But my problem is, when I watch an event and see the crowd, I have to
wonder. "Do a large portion of these people NOT know this is fake?" And
looking at them, I can only assume "yes". That's fucking scary.
=============================================================================
Am I the only one who thinks that the dog food ads on TV show meat that
is occasionally more appitizing than some of the things I eat for dinner?
Having talked about this with other people out there, I assume I'm not.
==============================================================================
In all honesty, is there anything worse in the literary world than bad,
angsty high-school poetry? I haven't found anything that comes close.
If you have, please e-mail me. Even then I probably won't believe you.
==============================================================================
Tack one up for my bad puns. This one's for you, Drew...
HereTic-Tacs! The breath mint for non-believers!
==============================================================================
People say misery doesn't pay. Well, actually, I have no idea if they
say that or not. All I know is I wrote a poem about my misery and it
scored me 100 dollars and 90 cents. No fooling. Let that be a lesson.
If you're ever miserable, write about it. It could score you stuff.
==============================================================================
Speaking of stuff, I am convinced that this is the only real reason for
graduation. Not that I'm complaining. In the weeks up to my high school
graduation, I've gotten well over 400 dollars worth of stuff, and more
is to come. If you're ever low on money, graduate from something.
==============================================================================
I really think its time for chrome's big comeback. Enough said.
==============================================================================
There's something disquieting about seeing actual women on Kids In The
Hall. I don't know. It's just so... eeiry.
==============================================================================
Actually, eeiry is an eeiry word. I don't know how much that happens,
that a word is what that word is. Oh, hell, you know what I mean...
==============================================================================
This month's "There are two types of people"... The type that is really
looking forward to the rerelease of Star Wars and the type that is
really looking forward to Independance Day.
==============================================================================
Man, oh man, do I hate Charlie Sheen.
==============================================================================
=================THE PRECENDING WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY ME======================
... FIN ...
*** Written by: Quarex ***
THE IMPORTANCE OF CORRECTING THIS ISSUE'S GRAMMAR
I feel the incredible need to keep this 'zine as grammatically correct as
possible, so this article is truly necessary.
First, I will analyze Shadow Tao.
I understand that he is more intelligent than the rest of us put together,
but his continual usage of lowercase letters makes him seem very silly
indeed, in my mind. PLEASE! GAAAAAHH!!!
Now's the time when you might wonder why I don't just go through and correct
everyone's mistakes? Well, the answer to that is obvious. I WANT TO SEEM
SUPERIOR BY MYSELF!
Now, we move on to Murmur's articles.
He spelled "meet" as "meer", but I corrected that because it needed to make
some sense. Other than that, he did everything more or less right. There
is little punctuation, but the Wesley-Willis style of songwriting would not
use a great deal of punctuation in any case.
And on to Erzebet's. .
Well, really, this isn't fair, because he can't spell and he knows it :)
arcaic should be archaic
allthough == although
privlidges == priviledges
its should be it's in that context (used twice)
eeiry == EERIE! JEEZE! So obvious. .
and CHARLIE SHEEN FUCKING RULES!
Precending? WTF is precending?
He also really messed up on the sentence about him noticing how silly it was
when his father was pushing him. Talk about run-on! My word.
Quarex:
Get a life. You're spending your time correcting people's grammar at 3:30 in
the morning, after over two hours of cleaning your basement. JESUS!!!!
\\\FIN///
*** Drawn by: Shadow Tao ***
A BIG FLAMING CROSS
\\
/()\ .
| |
. | G | . ^
. ^. .| | //. .
)\_}\/(| R |/ ()\/(
| |
|B U R -I- Z U M|
`-------. .-------'
`| S |'
| |
| H |
| |'
`| N |'
`| |'
| A |
| |
`\| C |' incredibly bad ascii done by
| |' shadow tao for his hero
| K |
`| |
| H | count grishnackh
| |
|___|
666 Fenriz Isttgor Niflheim 666
*** Written by: Quarex ***
Rant & Rave about Various Things
Here it comes, there it goes, look out, it's coming this way!
Another issue hath come, and another miscellaneous section hath come withth
iththth. Thisssthathaithiththt, htiahaehfhthsthsththththhthtthhthhtthhth.
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
* * *
This time it's going to be different. We're BOTH going to try lyposuction!
* * *
I wonder if anyone else has ever had this happen to them. I got up this
morning (the day after my LAST DAY OF HIGH SCHOOL! YAY!!!!!), wandered into
the bathroom, and realized that the same thought had been going through my
mind since I awoke: Washing my clothes with tangerines would be better. I
don't know why it'd be better, or how I'd even go about trying to wash my
clothes with tangerines. However, I do know that it was the only thought in
my mind for well over five minutes, and I was only remotely conscious.
* * *
Why do people get emotional? I mean, crying doesn't do any good, whatever
you're crying about has come and gone. Why bother? What can it possibly
accomplish? The best you can hope for is that your makeup won't run too
much, and some saps will hug you or something. The only valid reason I could
think of for crying is if you found out that Soul 4 Real had sold more albums
than Michael Jackson. This, after all, would affect the world adversely for
all time. That'd be something worth crying over.
* * *
Last time a girl asked me to whisper those "three little words" in her ear, I
did, and she cried a lot. Next time a girl asks me to do that, I'm going to
say "CLOWN OF DISEASE!"
* * *
This month's Spontaneous Bad Pun(tm):
What do you call any remaining strands of dead skin cells on a bald man's
head?
ELITE HAIRZ.
* * *
Let me try a different one, since that one didn't even make ME smile.
What do you get when you cross Adonis and Urkel?
A Geek God!. .. JESUS! I used to be funny. Let me try again.
* * *
Where do all former blonde bombshells go to retire?
The Marilyn Mansion! AHAHAHAHAHAH! AHAHAHA! FUCK YOU!
* * *
Here's some other random things I thought up this month that weren't funny:
What do you call a fruit jerk?
A Parasol. (Pear-asshole. . haaahaaa!!)
What's every elite kid's favorite IRC channel?
#warezwaldo!
* * *
I'm going to kill the following people:
@ Tipper Gore
@ The guy who wrote the script for "Harry and the Hendersons"
@ Every Mormon Eskimo
@ Anyone who has tried to ban Cannibal Corpse's CDs
@ Pope John Paul MCMLXXXIV
@ Anyone who thinks I'm actually serious about killing these people
@ Whitney Houston
@ Knute Rockne
@ Chef Wendell
* * *
Putting your hand on someone's shoulder can mean so MANY different things!
You can use it to indicate approval, with a light patting. You can use it to
indicate pending arrest, with a firm grip. You can use it to arouse the
other person sexually, with the right amount of caressing. You can use it to
finish the person off if you're playing Sheeva in Mortal Kombat III. My,
aren't shoulders and hands wonderful?
* * *
The wonder of small, black, leather carrying cases for CDs will never cease
to amaze me. If someone actually wanted their CDs to be put in something
that looked attractive, they would not buy this piece of SHIT. BAH! I SPIT
ON THE GRAVE OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS!!
* * *
Hey, did anyone know that I have a vendetta against women?
* * *
Now that I've graduated, I can't help but wonder if I haven't discovered the
meaning of life. I mean, if trying to get the most applause of your class
when you walk across the stage to get your diploma isn't everyone's goal,
then what IS? Building a Kiwi homepage?
* * *
If you count how many times foreign languages were used in this issue of
grill, you might need to use your other hand.
- - -F I N- - -
=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0=-0-=
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Submissions to Grill (hahahaha) can be sent to:
rwhunt@rs6000.cmp.ilstu.edu -- Quarex
amhunt@odin.cmp.ilstu.edu -- Quarex, soon!
Any comments about their material can be sent to:
jmthomps@rs6000.cmp.ilstu.edu -- ThrillKil
bowinans@rs6000.cmp.ilstu.edu -- Swiss Pope
ecdecke@rs6000.cmp.ilstu.edu -- Ghort/Hrothgar
sbaker@Dave-World.net -- Ogre
rdebarba@Dave-World.net -- Eight-Ball
danderso@ice.net -- Obsidian
(Or, you could complain about them to me, see if I care. . .)
All material contained within this text file in its entirety is copyrighted.
No part of it may be used in any other text file, archive, book, novel,
oration, oratory, obituary, osteoperosis, Oswald the Magnificent, ostrich,
oral activity, or orangutan without express-written consent of ME!!
AND I AM QUAREX! ALL HAIL QUAREX!
The fifth issue of GRILL was completed sometime around June 8.
...Top three flora-metal bands: Plantera, Sepulturosebush, Bioak-Hazard
Sorry, that was really awful, I'll give you another closing line:
Why does the pope always look constipated? BECAUSE HE'S FULL OF SHIT!
Man, that was even worse. Hmmmmm. .
This tagline was once property of Jacqueline-Kennedy Onassis?
No.
Why not try a vacation in the United Arab Emirates this summer?
. .
I HATE YOU! Peace out.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
