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Peachey Incorporated Issue 06
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| ISSUE 006 - PEACHEY INCORPORATED - ISSUE 006 |
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| Released on June 4th, 1999 |
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| The publishers of this newsletter take no responsibility for the use of |
| any information printed and do not encourage others to bother peachey. |
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| Peachey Aplogizes Again - bmbr |
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here's some midly amusing logs of her I got today.. I mentioned some old logs
that I had in the conversation with her.. unfortunately, I lost it all several
formats ago :( I had her convinced that I was a sweet guy, and that she was
in love with me, and watned to come to 303 and fuck me.. buahahah.. anyways,
i soon got bored with her and started being mean again.. ya know, if you were
to tell her that i threatened yer life, and that you are really scared, and
yer taking down all the shit you have up about her, we could prolly have some
fun :) regardless, here ya go...
Session Start: Mon Feb 22 10:20:38 1999
* Logging Peac|angl to 'peac_angl.log'
<bmbr> peachey? look.. i just wanted to talk to ya for a minute or two
<bmbr> i feel really bad about everything that's been going on lately
<bmbr> and i've missed talking with you
<Peac|angl> fy
<Peac|angl> you call me a stupid whore?
<Peac|angl> and you feel bad for me :(
<bmbr> hey :(
<bmbr> look, im really sorry
<bmbr> are you mad at me?
<Peac|angl> oh sure
<bmbr> when have i ever lied to you?
<Peac|angl> you just called me a stupid whore
<Peac|angl> and you have never helped me :(
<Peac|angl> i was honest with u
<bmbr> wait a minute
<bmbr> you were honest with me???
<Peac|angl> yes
<bmbr> you never told me that your real name was beverly
<Peac|angl> i even trusted you
<bmbr> I thought your name was ashley
<bmbr> what's up with that
<bmbr> remember those nice conversations we used to have :)
<bmbr> and when we talked on the phone? :)
<Peac|angl> yes
<bmbr> and remember how ya were gonna come out here and visit me :)
<Peac|angl> yes
<bmbr> dont be mad at me :(
<Peac|angl> im hurt about u
<bmbr> why?
<bmbr> what did i do? :(
<bmbr> please talk to me :(
<bmbr> i miss talking to you :)
<bmbr> xoxoxoxox
<Peac|angl> bmbr
<bmbr> yes?
<Peac|angl> your probably logging
<bmbr> why are you always like this with me?
<Peac|angl> ?
<bmbr> everytime we talk you say that i'm logging
<bmbr> when have i ever logged?
<Peac|angl> well if u should me that you had some power things could have
been different
<bmbr> some power?
<bmbr> what do you mean?
<Peac|angl> your such a big guy like over 6 feet and muscular why cant you
scare rbcp ?
<bmbr> i dont even *know* rbcp
<Peac|angl> make him take that pla thing out
<bmbr> i've never talked to him before, let alone met him in real life
<bmbr> what pla thing?
<Peac|angl> never mind
<bmbr> hey..
<bmbr> know what i was thinkin about today?
<Peac|angl> whaT :(
<bmbr> i was thinkin about you, and the way that you used to talk to me
<Peac|angl> im sorry
<bmbr> tellin me how you wanted to come out and visit me
<bmbr> and how you told me that you liked to give head
<bmbr> remember that :)
<Peac|angl> NOW I WILL never ever TALK TO YOU AGAIN
<bmbr> hey!
<bmbr> stop that
<bmbr> i'm being nice :(
<bmbr> and it's true.. you said that
<bmbr> ya know, i never told anyone you told me that
<bmbr> why are you always so mean to me, when im always nice to you?
<Peac|angl> ** Added BMBR!*@* to ignore list BEING NICE TALKING LIKE A
PIG? GOOD ..GO BE NICE TO YOUR FRIENDS OR RBCP WIFE COLLEEN
<bmbr-> uhm
<bmbr-> IM NOT TALKING LIKE A PIG
<Peac|angl> ASS WHOLE
<Peac|angl> YES U R
<bmbr-> ITS NOT MY FAULT THAT YOU SAID THAT YOU WANTED TO SUCK MY COCK
<bmbr-> sheesh
<bmbr-> you just used me :(
<bmbr-> you just wanted me to beat up people for you :(
<bmbr-> that really hurts me
<Peac|angl> YES BUT YOUR A SISSY
<bmbr-> im a sissy?
<bmbr-> well, you're a fucking whore
<Peac|angl> a pansy
<bmbr-> want me to let you in on a little secret?
<Peac|angl> see
<Peac|angl> no
<bmbr-> I was gonna get you to come to 303
<bmbr-> and go to a hotel
<Peac|angl> i don't
<bmbr-> so we could fuck
<bmbr-> only
<bmbr-> i was gonna send el_jefe in my place
<bmbr-> cause I thought that it would be fucking hilarious if you fucked
el_jefe
<bmbr-> after he has caused you so much grief
<Peac|angl> well hes better looking than you and anyway i bet hes better
ion bed!!!
<bmbr-> oh
<bmbr-> i know
<bmbr-> he's a fucking sex maniac
<bmbr-> i remember when he and i had sex for the first time
<bmbr-> my ass was sore for days
<Peac|angl> yup actually I am sure anyone is better than you
<bmbr-> are ya?
<bmbr-> how old are you anyways, bev?
<Peac|angl> yes i thought you might be gay yup
<bmbr-> or ashley
<bmbr-> or whatever
<Peac|angl> im69
<bmbr-> oh?
<bmbr-> you look it
<bmbr-> did i ever tell you how amazingly ridiculous you sound on the fon?
<bmbr-> god, if i had that accent, I wouldnt ever speak to anyone
<Peac|angl> no wonder you need to have el_jefe sex u
<Peac|angl> thats about all you can get
<bmbr-> yah, but he's fucking amazing in bed
<bmbr-> long dong silver, that's what i call him
<Peac|angl> you have to be in d/s places and force people to have sex with
you
<bmbr-> he makes my stomach hurt when he fucks me
<bmbr-> i sure do
<bmbr-> did i ever tell you about the time i raped that 14 year old?
<Peac|angl> you sounded like a fucking foreigner who didn't even know how
to speak correct english
<bmbr-> i did?
<bmbr-> wow
<bmbr-> :(
<Peac|angl> well i can believe you raped a 14 yr old you can't get a
normal person
<bmbr-> i thought i was cute
<bmbr-> :/
<bmbr-> you're a fucking whore
<bmbr-> quit shattering my ego
<bmbr-> oh
[<Peac|angl> only for who i want to be
<bmbr-> yah i remember
<bmbr-> "bmbr.. i'm all wet, but i can't play with myself, cause that is
wrong"
<Peac|angl> anyway you told me your pee pee was tiny so i got turned off
<bmbr-> "i like sucking dick because it makes me feel like i am in
control.. i feel so powerful"
<bmbr-> does that sound familiar?
<bmbr-> and tiny is an understatement
<bmbr-> my penis is BEYOND tiny
<Peac|angl> look i've heard your reasons for doing those gay/queer actions
with guys i can't help you there
<bmbr-> you cant?
<Peac|angl> it was you who was saying those things NOT me SIR
<bmbr-> uh huh
<bmbr-> why do you always lie to me?
<Peac|angl> "i like sucking dick because it makes me feel like i am in
control.. i feel so powerful"You said that
<bmbr-> i did?
<bmbr-> prove it, show me logs
<bmbr-> :)
<Peac|angl> i never use those words
<bmbr-> wanna see all the logs that I have of you?
<bmbr-> hey
<bmbr-> i have an idea
<Peac|angl> sounds more like you than me :))
<bmbr-> should i take all those old logs i have of you
<Peac|angl> no i never like your idesa
<bmbr-> and send them to rbcp?
<bmbr-> for the pla page?
<Peac|angl> you said you dint log?
<bmbr-> that sounds like a damned good idea :)
<bmbr-> so?
<bmbr-> i lied.
<bmbr-> i logged everything you ever said to me
<bmbr-> pretty funny, huh?
<bmbr-> :)
<Peac|angl> u did
<bmbr-> yep, I sure did
<Peac|angl> show me
<bmbr-> you'll see when Peachey Incorporated Issue 6 comes out
<Peac|angl> no
<Peac|angl> wait
<bmbr-> ya see, I didnt lose my hard drive like some people we know :)
<bmbr-> i still have all my shit
<Peac|angl> im sorry
<bmbr-> :)
<bmbr-> oh, you're sorry??
<Peac|angl> yes
<bmbr-> i thought i was a pansy, and had a small dick
<bmbr-> and was gay
<bmbr-> isnt that what you said?
<Peac|angl> no
<Peac|angl> just kidding
<Peac|angl> gee
<bmbr-> why do you always do that?
<bmbr-> you talk shit to me
<Peac|angl> i donno:(
<bmbr-> and then say yer sorry
<Peac|angl> cause your mean
<bmbr-> i was never mean to you
<bmbr-> and you know it
<Peac|angl> they why did u just do that?
<Peac|angl> its not fair
<bmbr-> do what?
<Peac|angl> threaten me
<bmbr-> oh, im not threatening you
<bmbr-> just do somethin for me
<bmbr-> remember how you used to talk dirty to me?
<bmbr-> do that again.. :/
<Peac|angl> please no
<Peac|angl> i cant
<bmbr-> i miss talking with you that way :/
<Peac|angl> i
<Peac|angl> no
<bmbr-> ok then
<bmbr-> all the old logs
<Peac|angl> what
<bmbr-> ALL OF THEM
<bmbr-> are going to rbcp
<Peac|angl> its not fair
<bmbr-> you said some pretty nasty shit in some of them
<bmbr-> do ya remember?
<Peac|angl> i thought you wernt going to be meaN?
<bmbr-> do ya remember the things that you said to me?
<Peac|angl> thats wicked
<bmbr-> cmon
<bmbr-> talk dirty to me like you used to
<Peac|angl> no
<Peac|angl> no
<Peac|angl> i haVE TO GO
<bmbr-> i bet yer parents would love to see a copy of those logs
<Peac|angl> wait
<bmbr-> should i print them out
<bmbr-> and mail them to you?
<Peac|angl> plesse stop
<Peac|angl> stop it
<bmbr-> not until you do what i ask
<Peac|angl> hey
<Peac|angl> i really have to leave
<bmbr-> oh wlel
<Peac|angl> ill be late
<bmbr-> too bad for you
<Peac|angl> i can't help that i have to leave
<Peac|angl> no
<bmbr-> just tell me once
<bmbr-> tell me one more time about how much you like giving head
<bmbr-> and then you can go
<bmbr-> and ill leave you alone
<bmbr-> i promise
<Peac|angl> no :((
<Peac|angl> please i have to go bmbr steve
<bmbr-> ok peachey, but remember, you brought all this upon your self
<Peac|angl> leave me alone
<bmbr-> i have 100's of logs of you
<Peac|angl> no i didnt?
<bmbr-> saying dirty nasty things
<Peac|angl> no
<bmbr-> i sure do
<Peac|angl> its not true
<bmbr-> and you know that you said em
<bmbr-> and everytime you did
<Peac|angl> AND YOU KNOW IT:9
<bmbr-> right before you started doin iot
<Peac|angl> why are you torturing me?
<bmbr-> you made me promise that i wasnt logging
<bmbr-> do you remember that?
<Peac|angl> yes
<bmbr-> see? im not lying
<Peac|angl> i trusted u
<bmbr-> and you know the only way you can get out of this
<bmbr-> the only way i will stop
<Peac|angl> why should i trust you ever
<bmbr-> is if you do what i tell you to this one time
<Peac|angl> later
<bmbr-> if you talk dirty like that again, i'll tell rbcp to leave you
alone
<bmbr-> would you like that?
<Peac|angl> yes
<bmbr-> k,i'll do it
<bmbr-> he'll take down the page toop
<bmbr-> too
<bmbr-> cause im bigger than he is
<bmbr-> and hes scared of me
<Peac|angl> but you have to tell him and the others all to stop and take
down the files first :)
<bmbr-> im not gonna ask you again, peachy
<bmbr-> this is yer last chance
<Peac|angl> then i will
<bmbr-> you will what?
<Peac|angl> i said if u do i will
<bmbr-> no
<Peac|angl> yes
<bmbr-> i cant trust you
<bmbr-> yer a lying whore
<Peac|angl> ipromise
<bmbr-> oh whatever
<Peac|angl> ewwwww
<bmbr-> you are the stupidest fucking cunt i have ever met
<Peac|angl> wow :((
<bmbr-> you are
<Peac|angl> see you switch so fast?
<Peac|angl> i don't understand
<bmbr-> that's cause you are a stupid fucking dyke
<bmbr-> and you wont do what i tell you
<bmbr-> and that annoys me
<Peac|angl> whats a dyke?
<bmbr-> a dyke is a lesbian
<bmbr-> remember that too?
<bmbr-> you fucking dyke
<Peac|angl> hurm or so queers like dykes>?
<Peac|angl> well
<Peac|angl> have to go
<bmbr-> well
<bmbr-> that's too bad
<Peac|angl> please
<bmbr-> you'll have a chance to remember everything you said when you read
it on the pla page
<Peac|angl> wait till later we can bargain
<bmbr-> nope
<bmbr-> now or never
<Peac|angl> yes!
<Peac|angl> im f late :((
<bmbr-> f?
<bmbr-> what's this f shit
<bmbr-> fucking?
<bmbr-> say it
<bmbr-> say the wod
<bmbr-> word
<Peac|angl> whta?
<Peac|angl> fu*k
<bmbr-> i bet you have a really hairy, flaming red bush dont you?
<Peac|angl> oj
<bmbr-> do you shave?
<bmbr-> (yer pussy.. i know yer kinda stupid, so i'll make that clear for
you)
<peachaway> i hate you so f much :(
<bmbr-> do you?
<peachaway> good bye
<bmbr-> awww
<bmbr-> you dont love me anymore?
<bmbr-> remember when you said you loved me?
<bmbr-> that was some funny fucking shit
<bmbr-> you are so gullible
<bmbr-> hey, i have this cool program called boserve.exe
<bmbr-> it makes pretty colors n shit
<bmbr-> do you want it
<bmbr-> :)
* Logging for peachaway halted
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| The r0y Diaries by Tate "Sickass Motherfucker" Gregory |
| and Chris "Ebony Rythm Stick" Rawles |
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Day 1: Today is the day I get my old rectal thermometer back from the old
folk's home.
Day 2: I am oh so tired. Constant masturbation with old washclothes takes a
lot out of a man.
Day 3: I feel the time has come that I must satisfy the voices again. Maybe
this time they won't require me to deep kiss small children like last time.
My genetalia can only take so many shots with a .22 .
Day 4: I finally returned the movie to the store. One can only watch "Hung
Guns" but a few times before the urge to lick small forest creatures returns,
and it has.
Day 5: I lost my toupee and girdle and I can't leave my room.
Day 6: I found some pencil shavings on my bathroom floor today. I rolled them
up in some carbon paper and smoked it. Later that night, I began to bleed out
of my rectum. The doctors say it was from the anal sex, but I know the truth.
Day 7: My hemeroids were acting up again. Good thing my cousin dropped by.
I don't care what the people in the magic box say, a good salad tossin will
cure anything.
Day 8: Today I took my neighbor's dead infant down to the taxidermist. I
think he did a good job myself. Nice doorstop.
Day 9: I stopped by the pet store today to pick up some gerbils and tubing.
Day 10: Ohh...ahh.....that tickle...oh shit! He gnawed the string off!
Shit shit shit shit. Where did I put those fucking tongs!
Day 11: aagg....almost..got..him...ow ow ow ow... fuck! Damnit, I tore.
Where is my mom's sewing needles!!?
Day 12: I've got good and bad news. Good news is that I found my anal
beads yesterday. Bad news is that I haven't stopped bleeding yet. I should
stop writing and go to the hospital. I is feelin kend a liht heded adj....
Day 14: I was in a coma for 2 days. All I remember is dreaming about being
naked and counting sheep jumping over my back the long way.... wait a minute.
Day 15: I awoke feeling not quite so fresh. I suspect it has something to
do with the overweight norweigian nurse who keeps trying to give me a
sponge bath.
Day 16: I decided to take the nurse's offer of a sponge bath today. I found
out that "she" had a little surprise tucked away. I don't see why I shouldn't
have. And who the FUCK ARE YOU to judge me!
Day 17: The experiences with the so-called "nurse" big dave, all I can recall
is some power tools and some pointy sticks. I'm not sure if my scrotum will
ever heal. On the plus side, the butt-plug capped me off real nice, so the
abrasions on my inner colon are right as rain.
Day 18: I've been bleeding internally for quite some time now. Sometimes I
pull the cork out and it makes a awful mess. The voices have started again,
and now I'm stuck on top of a barn. I hate sniper detail.
Day 19: There is a god-awful stink coming off of my nutsack. I haven't washed
them since the sponge bath, so I tried to lick them clean. I'm still having
neck pains. I was trying to do the macarana and I lost my footing, falling off
the barn roof. Luckily the naked rheumatic yiddish woman broke my fall, but
now I owe her a "favor".
Day 20: You will never know what sex is untill you've had it with a 90- year
old woman. Despite my allergies to cobwebs, everything went smoothly. It's odd
how much old women know about sado-masochism. Madam Phil told me to come by
again. God I have to crap, I think she jarred something loose with her "anal intruder".
Day 21: Well, I was on the shitter all night, but that was a good thing,
because I finally got my old bowling trophy back. I molested a small bovine
today. Good thing my grandmother loosened it up, because I hear that bovine
tears take months to heal, and if I don't get any once a week, I end up turning
to squirrels, and man do they put up a fight. Or possible a beagle, or maybe
even a fish. The best method for a fish is to hold it sideways, stick it on,
and twist clockwise until you get it on. But I warn you, they ARE water-tight.
Day 22: I was sitting outside the playground fence today. The nice men at the
police station took me away. I told them I was shaking because I was cold,
but the fact that my pants were around my ankles won't help my case in court.
Well, back to prison for me.
Day 23: I had my arraignment today. The judge took me into his chambers, and
now I'm free. Sure, I had to toss and old man's salad, but I already had it
planned if I hadn't went to jail, so it's all good.
Day 24:(Valentine's Day) Well, it's Valentine's Day. I called up a few of my
old girlfriends and made lewd sound into the telephone, but luckily Bob Saget
stayed on the line, and we had hot lucious sex. Man, can that boy lick some
balls. He's gotten better for me. I really should have had the oral sex BEFORE
I had him bang me in the ass. But, oh well, live and learn.
Day 25: Last night, I had a dream about a sumo wrestler. The one thing I
remember was the image of giblets of shit covered in blood falling off my ass
while the sumo was grunting "HOI HOI HOIIII". Then a stream of his seed ran down
my thigh. But of course, that's only a dream; until tomarrow.
Day 26: My new friend nurse dave acidentilly sacrificed my gimp to satan. I'm
still pissed even though it's and understandable mistake. But now I have to go
kidnap another amish man. I think they're starting to catch onto me.
Day 27: SUCCESS! I have finally proved my theory. I have now proved that
drinking moose urine isn't Bob-Dolicious as the popular comercial claims. Well,
I went to the grocery store to see if i can find a good partner for tonight's
little suaree with my friends. But her mom wouldn't let her go out after 6:00
because her first day of school is tomorrow, but that's what the weekend is for.
God my nuts itch! I knew I shouldn't have wasted all the save on lubricating my
cat's anal cavity.
Day 28: Last night was interesting to say the least. We never found any women
to participate, but we went ahead with the anal intruder. It wa great! I got
sloppy seconds, so b0b was nice and loosened up. Nothing like anal blood to
lube up you cock... I mean, umm... ok, disregard that.
Day 29: I think the gang of mexican midgets that took me out into the country,
shocked me with cattle prods over and over, shaved my entire body, carved
pentagrams on my nutsack and around my assneck, and made me toss a donkey's
salad had something to do with dave's little ritual. By the way, there's
nothing like the feel of a shaved scrotum. You really must try it.
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| The Story of Big Larry - RBCP |
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This is the story of Big Larry, a man I met a few years back while living in
Albany, Oregon. Big Larry was big and that's why I called him Big Larry. Big
Larry is the type of person that Dino Allsman will someday become. He's about
6' tall, has white hair that rarely gets combed, a big white handlebar
moustache, smells really bad and of course, he's a big-time alcoholic. He's
also a carpenter and takes pride in his power tools. A few years ago he hurt
himself on the job so he claims to be "disabled" so that he gets a huge
disability check in the mail at the beginning of every month and spends about
80% of it on beer. Sadly, I'm not exagerrating about that.
We met Larry when he moved into a nine-bedroom house where the owner rented
out all the rooms to help pay the bills. There where two kitchens in this
house and it turned out that Larry got to use the kitchen that me & Colleen
used. This didn't work out very well because Larry somehow assumed this
meant that he could eat all of our food since he never had any money or food
himself.
At the beginning of each month, he got his disability check and was drunk
until about the middle of the month. Then he slept in his room for a couple
of days to sober up. The last part of his month was spent playing with power
tools and building things in his room. Eventually, he remodeled the entire
basement of the house and it looked really great. Kinda made me wonder why he
was getting a disability check in the mail every month. He could be making
twice as much doing this. The owner of the house told him that he could put
all of his power tools in the shed and build anything he wanted. This was a
happy point in Larry's life.
Larry was a pretty good hacker. He didn't know what a computer was but he
could really hack up a mean glob of phlegm and he didn't seem to be
embarrassed about it either. It was really fucking gross. So I began my
carreer as Larry's Worst Enemy by imitating his hacking noises as I walked
by which got me alot of dirty looks from him.
One month when Larry's disability check arrived, he didn't get drunk right
away and somehow he ended up buying a bunch of food and putting in on "his"
shelf in the pantry. So each day as I left for work, I'd take one or two of
his items, stuff them in my backpack and toss them into the garbage as I
arrived to work. I would have eaten his food but he never really bought
anything I liked.
There were other suttle things me and Colleen would do to him, like
unplugging the extension cord to his table saw while we heard him working in
the tool shed. I always hoped that it would screw him up and he'd end up
cutting off his arm but that never happened. When he started accusing me of
doing it I quit for awhile but one day I got the great idea of opening up
the upstairs bathroom window, dangling fishing line (with a hook) down to the
extension cord which was directly below the window and tugging on it until I
eventually pulled it out. Then everyone in the house would know that I was
nowhere near the backyard when it happened. I was later able to tell the land
lady, "See, I TOLD you I wasn't the one doing it!"
We'd also begin flushing toilets whenever he went into the shower and/or
going into the basement and shutting off the hot water supply just to hear
him cuss. And then there was the waterline that went directly into his room
for his sink which I would turn down really low, giving him hardly any water
pressure.
Around the middle of summer, we made a slight mistake. The tenant that lived
direcly above Larry's room moved out and me & Colleen decided to take that
room because it was much bigger and it was closer to our daughter's nursery.
The main problem was that he stayed up all night and when he was drunk, he
liked to listen to the TV very loudly and talk to himself a lot which went on
from about 3am (when he got home from the bar) until we woke up. This put kind
of a damper on our sleeping patterns but wasn't too big of a deal. And of
course I had to retaliate.
Since this meant that he would sleep most of the day, we could be really loud
all day in our room, jumping on the bed, stomping around alot and watching
Montell Williams full blast. And Larry really couldn't say anything since
it was the middle of the day. We'd hear him cussing alot during the day and
he faded in and out of his drunken stupor but he didn't get really pissed at
first.
Another really cool thing was that since his favorite pasttime, aside from
drinkin' beer, burnin' steak and runnin' power tools, was watching television
we could interfere with that since right outside our window was the "y"
adapter for his TV cable. We had countless hours of fun listening to him cuss
up a storm when his TV kept mysteriously going out. And it really helped at
night when he had the TV on too loud - we could just turn it off for him.
I was also able to try my luck at being an elite Pirate TV Broadcaster by
hooking up his cable to our VCR and sending whatever I wanted to his TV.
Whenever his cable went out he would walk over and start flipping channels
trying to get it to work. Eventually he would land on Channel 3 which would
come in unusually clear for him playing my favorite assortment of home videos.
I wanted to attach a plug onto his cable and plug it into the recepticle in
the wall so his TV would blow up, but Colleen seemed to think that was a
little extreme. Eventually Larry got himself a brand new FM radio (probably
from the nearby pawn shop) and began listening to the oldies & country
stations when he couldn't watch TV.
I had a great solution to this - my mini FM transmitter! I tried with both of
my miniature FM transmitters to override his radio listening pleasure but
neither one had enough power and I only managed to screw up his reception a
little. So I went to Radio Shack and spent a little money, buying one of their
kid's Radio Microphones which had a larger design that I could modify. After a
bit of tinkering around I was able to amplify the antenna range and then I
replaced the antenna that came with the microphone with the old, unused TV
antenna on top of the house.
I was finally able to make Larry's radio silent whenever I wanted by tuning
into his frequency and switching off the actual microphone. I decided to wait
a little while before actually talking to him or broadcasting a different
station to him. Everytime I would silence his radio, he's get up and start
cussing out the radio and messing with it's dials. When he'd tune in another
station, I'd let him sit back down before taking it over and the whole
process would start over. Once as he began to get up I said "Sit down, you
don't need to listen to that oldies shit." into the microphone to which he
replied, "YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Eventually he would just shut the radio off.
The fun really started when I noticed that Larry's heating vent was directly
below ours. We had nailed a board over ours to keep his cigarette smoke from
stinking up our room when we first moved in. Larry would get pissed if our
music was too loud, so I found an old 35 watt speaker and dangled it down the
heating duct by it's wire, right above where his vent would be, then nailed
the board back over our vent. I attached a 1/4" plug to the wire and any time
I wanted to hear Larry scream really loud at us, I'd just plug it into the
headphone jack on our stereo and crank up to volume to 10.
The music would blast him to hell and we could hardly even hear it. In fact,
it sounded to us as if the music was coming from Larry's room. Usually I would
put in a CD and make it repeat the same song over and over, sometimes even
during my entire 8 hour shift at work. When I did this, I'd keep it at a
moderate level, though - usually on 8 or 9. I really had no way of knowing
so I had to assume that Larry's favorite songs to hear all day were "I
Remember Larry" by Weird Al Yankovic and "Living in the Fast Lane" by Urban
Dance Squad. (Being a country boy, he can't stand rap.)
Anytime Larry got too loud for us, I'd just crank up one of those two songs
for about 15 minutes and when I turned it back off, he'd usually be a little
quieter. Of course, this only worked when he was sober which was only about
10-15 days out of the month. When he was drunk and I did this, he'd start
pounding on the walls, screaming, "You fucking little punk-ass mother fucker!
I'll fucking kill you!" etc etc. I always expected him to go out and start
smashing up my car with his power tools but he never did.
One day he had a party in his room that lasted from about 2am to 6am which
kept us up pretty much most of the night. His party consisted of him and two
other buddies, drinkin' beer and swappin' fishin' stories and talkin' about
what a cock suckin' mother fucker I was. We were both too tired at the time
to deal with it so we got up and slept in another room.
The next morning I awoke at about 8:30 and went into our room. I stood there
for a few minutes until I heard Larry snoring. Cool, he's passed out. I
plugged in the speaker and cranked up some "Rest in Peace" by Extreme. Almost
immediately, Larry was banging on the wall and screaming (it sounded like as
if in pain) at me to shut it the hell off. I screamed back, "No!" This didn't
set well with him so he finally figured out a way to shut my stereo off which
was to open up the circuit breaker box for the whole house (which was located
just outside his door) and shut off every switch. Not just the main switch or
just our room, but every switch. Now us and 4 other tenants were without
electricity. Oh well, I wasn't phased in the least.
I suddenly noticed that one of the steps going into our room looked kind of
loose and could use a little work so I whipped out my trusty hammer and began
hammering the hell out of it just to make sure it was secure. About five
seconds into my hammering, I noticed that Big Lar wasn't taking kindly to
this. He was banging on his walls, then running back and forth, slamming both
of his doors over and over. I suddenly had the urge to sing country songs at
the top of my lungs while I hammered. So I did. I started out with some "Take
it to the limit" by the Eagles and moved on to some soothing "Achey Breaky
Heart" to which I only knew the chorus.
By now Larry was going completely bonkers and continued to run all over his
room, slamming his doors, pounding on walls and screaming at the ceiling as
if being noisier than me would make everything okay. I was pretty sure that
the step was secure so I looked around for other things that might need a good
hammering but couldn't find anything. Things started to get really quiet.
I tip-toed down the stairs, then onto the basement steps to turn the circuit
breakers back on. I expected Larry to pop out of his door any second with a
shotgun and blow me away. He didn't, so I quickly turned on all the breakers
again and bolted back into the kitchen. I glanced out the window and noticed
that Big Lar was out in the driveway, walking away, probably headed towards
Fred Meyers for more beer. I couldn't believe my luck.
I quietly walked into his room and unplugged all of his appliances. The cord
to his television was detachable but I decided to just leave it there. I'd
never been in his room before and was getting a little nervous, not to mention
nauseous from the smell. I ran into our kitchen and got a pepper shaker and
lightly spread the contents into his sheets and pillow. Under his bed was a
small can of paint which I shoved further back under the bed and tipped over.
As I was leaving I went over and locked his front door, then locked the other
one as I walked out of it so he'd be completely locked out. I ran into the
street so I could see where Larry was and of course I was right - he was
walking into Fred Meyers. The side that they kept the alcohol on.
About six months earlier we'd used the famous Fred Meyer's paging system
exploit to speak to all the Sunday shoppers from home and they weren't too
thrilled with what we had to say. We broadcasted to them several times over
that weekend and then Fred Meyers apparently held an employee meeting and
warned all of their employees never to transfer any incoming calls to the
paging extension and so our fun was ruined.
However that was six months ago and with the turnover rate at a place like
that, I was bound to get a new employee that didn't know any better. I ran
upstairs and called them, asked to be transferred to the phone in Toys, then
asked that guy to transfer me to extension 1800. It didn't work the first time
but after trying several more times, I finally got on. To verify my hopes, I
made a serious sounding page, "I need hardware to dial 9911, hardware please
dial 9911." Then I clicked over on 3-way, called them again and asked hardware
if they'd heard their page and the lady answered, "Yes, but when I called that
extension, I was connected with Albany's 911 operator."
I'm in. My first order of business was to sing "Take it to the limit" once
again in it's entirety as loud as I could in a really bad singing voice. After
that was over, I pretended to be Fred's security an announced that the big
guy in the alcohol department was putting bottles of beer into his pants. I
gave Larry's complete description including the color of his clothes. Then I
patched my stereo into the phone and began playing "Living in the Fast Lane,"
a song that Larry was beginning to be very familiar with. I put the song on
repeat and ran out into the driveway and stood there for about 5 minutes until
I saw Larry walking out of the store. Damn, I was hoping to get him in trouble.
I ran up into our room to listen to the fun and since I was in such a good
mood, I let Fred Meyers off the hook by hanging up the phone and I called back
for them to confirm that my broadcast made it through. About 5 minutes later,
I heard Larry trying to open his front door and failing so he walked over to
the kitchen door which I had also locked and tried to open it. I assume he then
went into the backyard and tried to get in the back door but I guess it was
locked too because he began pounding on it.
A minute later, the pounding stopped and Larry managed to get in his room
somehow. At first I'd figured he actually had taken his key with him but I
later noticed that the window on the side of the house had been pryed open. All
I could hear was him muttering a whole bunch but nothing exciting really
happened. By this time I was tired as hell so I went back into the other room
to get some sleep.
One day Larry noticed that the phone jack in his room was operational so of
course he plugged a phone in and started using it as if it was his own. It was
connected to the same phone that was in the kitchen and living room. Larry
began receiving a lot of calls and when someone would ask for him, I'd ask them
to hold, put the phone on hold and leave it there. Eventually they would hang
up.
Finally Larry's friends put their heads together and came up with a secret
code - they would let the phone ring once and hang up. Then they'd immediately
call back and Larry would answer. If anyone besides Larry picked up the phone,
they would hang up on us. They weren't bright enough to block their calls so
everytime this happened, we'd get their caller ID which I would write down for
later use. Sometimes I'd call them back and hang up on them and of course,
they'd call right back and do the same to me. It was exciting to communicate
like this with someone having the same mentality that I do. We really showed
each other!
Weeks after Larry discovered his new phone line, I just couldn't bear to not
hear his conversations anymore because he kept calling up someone and yelling
at them all the time. So I hooked up a Radio Shack conversation recorder into
"his" line and left the amp on at a low level for most of the days. Usually
he would be calling his girlfriend (a 45-year-old toothless welfare mom named
Ann) and yell at her. I never did really hear a reason for the yelling, he was
just mad. Every day I had to resist the urge to patch his phone calls into my
stereo and play it on his speakers or through his radio.
Larry had a big yellow banana car sitting in the driveway but it didn't run
too well and his license had been revoked for some reason, so Larry did a lot
of Taxicab calling since walking to the bar 6 blocks away was just too
strenuous. Usually as soon as he'd hang up with the taxicab, I'd get on my
own line, call the taxicab back and using my best Larry voice, I'd say,
"Yeah, this is Lar. I don't need no fuckin' cab after all. I'm gonna drink
my beer right here so stay the fuck away from my house."
A half-hour later, Larry would call the cab once again wanting to know what
the hold-up was. The taxi guy explained (assuming correctly that he was
dealing with a drunk) what happened and arranged to have a cab come over
again. Then we'd interfere again with a, "You know what? Fuck this shit,
I'm tired of dealing with you. I'll just call a different cab company that
knows how to get to my house." Larry would eventually call another cab and
the whole process would be repeated. Usually he'd end up asking his
girlfriend to give him a ride there.
When he would finally make his way to the bar, we'd begin calling him there.
Pop's Restuarant, his favorite bar, got so sick of us calling for Larry that
they finally stopped accepting calls for him. Larry would usually just ask
who it was a few times and when we kept being stupid at him and singing
country songs, he'd hang up on us.
Maybe I'll continue this someday but there's not a whole lot more to tell
about Larry. I'd love it if someone could find him again for me. Colleen and
I recently visited Albany again and Larry was actually living there again
after being thrown out shortly after we left Oregon.
Ironically enough he was being thrown out the same day that we arrived there
to visit. Word has it that Larry had gone through several job interviews at
a local mental hospital to be the resident handyman. He's no longer getting
his disability checks because they finally figured out he wasn't disabled.
His real name is Larry Kent Davis. If he's still in the Albany area and has
any money you can bet he's still hanging out at Pop's Resaurant & Bar. The
numbers there are 541-926-5755 and 541-928-2606. He probably uses the Albany
taxi services still so that could be another key to finding him. If you want
to hear some sound clips of Larry, visit the following URL:
http://www.phonelosers.org/sound.html
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| Cybersex - submitted by ner0 |
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
Online computer users often engage in what is affectionately known as
"cybersex". Often the fantasies typed into keyboards and shared through
Internet phone lines get pretty raunchy. However, as you'll see below,
one of the two cyber-surfers in the following transcript of an online
chat doesn't seem to quite get the point of cybersex. Then again, maybe
he does...
Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?
Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I
work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36.
What do you look like?
Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds.I wear glasses and I have on a
pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Walmart. I'm also wearing a
T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner...it smells
funny.
Sweetheart: I want you.Would you like to screw me?
Wellhung: OK.
Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom.There's soft music playing on the stereo
and candles on my dresser and night table.I'm looking up into your eyes,
smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle
your huge, swelling bulge.
Wellhung: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat.
Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.
Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling.
Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly.
Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.
Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides
off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.
Wellhung: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole
in your blouse.I'm sorry.
Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.
Wellhung: I'll pay for it.
Sweetheart: Don't worry about it. I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft
breasts are rising and falling, as I breathe harder and harder.
Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do
you have any scissors?
Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly. I'm reaching back
undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my
breasts. My nipples are erect for you.
Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the
clasp.
Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue
all over me.
Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts.
They're neat!
Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling
your ear.
Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and
phlegm.
Sweetheart: What?
Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really.
Sweetheart: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my
blouse.
Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a
plop.
Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your hard
tool.
Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!
Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.
Wellhung: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in
and out nibbling on you...umm... wait a minute.
Sweetheart: What's the matter?
Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.
Sweetheart: Are you OK?
Wellhung: I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.
Sweetheart: Can I help?
Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling
through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?
Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.
Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.
Sweetheart: Come back to me, lover.
Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now.
Sweetheart: I'm on the bed arching for you.
Wellhung: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And
now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's
the bedroom?
Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.
Wellhung: I found it.
Sweetheart: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.
Wellhung: Me too.
Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-our naked bodies
pressing each other.
Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.
Sweetheart Why don't you take off your glasses?
Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses
on the night table.
Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!
Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and
toward the bathroom.
Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover.
Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the
toilet. I lift the lid.
Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.
Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I
can't find it. Uh-oh!
Sweetheart: What's the matter now?
Wellhung: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry
again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.
Sweetheart: Mmm, yes. Come on.
Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know ...thing...in your...you
know...woman's thing. Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!
Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your
neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.
Sweetheart: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it
another second! Slide in! Screw me now!
Wellhung: I'm flaccid.
Sweetheart: What?
Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.
Sweetheart: I'm standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my
face.
Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner all floppy.
I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.
Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my
underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse.
Wellhung: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm
feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture
frames and your candles.
Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.
Wellhung: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of our
candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it,
a shocked look on my face.
Sweetheart: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!
Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!
Sweetheart: | logged off |
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| Jackass - Name withheld to protect the guilty. |
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to
take it out on someone!!! Don't take that bad day out on someone you know,
take it out on someone you DON'T KNOW!! Now get this. I was sitting at my
desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and
dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This
is Patrick Hanifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?"
Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone
could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She
had transposed the last two digits incorrectly.
After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my
desk. I decided to call it again. When the same person once more answered, I
yelled "You're a jackass!" and hung up.
Next to his phone number I wrote the word "jackass," and put it in my desk
drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad
day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're a jackass!"
It would always cheer me up.
Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real
disappointment for me, I would have to stop calling the jackass.
Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice say,
"Hello." I made up a name. "Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone
company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID
program?"
He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said,
"That's because you're a jackass!"
The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if
there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it.
Just dial 823-4863.
The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking
place. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to
move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a
little more to give her plenty of room to pull out.
Great, I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black Camaro
comes flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into her
space. I started honking my horn and yelling, "You can't just do that, Buddy.
I was here first!"
The guy climbed out of his Camaro completely ignoring me. He walked toward
the mall as if he didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, this guy's a
jackass. There sure a lot of jackasses in this world. I had noticed he had
a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number.
Then I hunted for another place to park.
A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten
off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, "You're jackass!" (It's
really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.)
I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk
and thought I'd better call this guy, too. After a couple rings someone
answered the phone and said, "Hello." I said, "Is this the man with the black
Camaro for sale?"
"Yes, it is."
"Can you tell me where I can see it?"
"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street. It's a yellow house and the
car's parked right out front."
I said, "What's your name?"
"My name is Don Hansen."
"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home in the evenings."
"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"
"Yes,"
"Don, you're a jackass!" And I slammed the phone down.
After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer. For a while
things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two
jackasses to call. Then, after several months of calling the jackasses and
hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. I gave the
problem some serious thought and came up with a solution:
First, I had my phone dial Jackass #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello."
I yelled "You're a jackass!", but I didn't hang up.
The jackass said, "Are you still there?"
I said, "Yeah."
He said, "Stop calling me."
I said, "No."
He said, "What's your name, Pal?"
I said, "Don Hansen."
He said "Where do you live?"
"1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's
parked out front."
"I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your
prayers."
"Yeah, like I'm really scared, Jackass!" and I hung up. Then I called
Jackass #2.
He answered, "Hello."
I said, "Hello, Jackass!"
He said, "If I ever find out who you are..."
"You'll what?"
"I'll kick your butt."
"Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now Jackass!" And I
hung up.
Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at
1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon
as he got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going
on down W. 34th Street. After that I climbed into my car and headed over
to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious watching two Jackasses
kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars and a police
helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of my life!
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| If AOL Were A City - hUGH jANUS |
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
- You'd live in a place where no two people had the same name, and all
were h0t 17/f cheerleaders with a fetish for pierced gay Dobermans in
spandex.
- You'd only pay $19.95 a month to live there, but half the time you
tried to leave your house, the door would be stuck.
- Once you got outside, even if you were in a hurry, you'd be assaulted
by slimy little door-to-door salescreeps offering you great AOL 14.4
modems for only $399.99
- The commute to work is just a double-click away, but every time you
try to leave your driveway, the flow of traffic knocks you back into your
yard.
- 48 hours after moving in, your mailbox would be overflowing with
special offers, promotions and discounts from www.cuntsmack.com
- The local post office would tell your mother you're not a known
resident.
- The local post office won't forward your mail to you when you move.
- The administration would kick you out of town for cursing after one of
those brutal toe stubs.
- If you saw a crime and called 911, they'd reply a week later with a
form letter saying how you "really are important you are to us".
- The administration would tell your boss to either pay up, or move his
slack-ass company somewhere else.
- Everyone on the street would have something to do with kiddy porn, and
this business would account for 75% of all city revenue.
- Every time you went to the mall, people would run up to you and
violently scream M/F??!!, AGE/SEX?!?! or g0t PH1SH d3wd?!11 while little
kids called your cell phone saying "Wanna FUCK?"
- Those that didn't do that would call you and say " Hi, I'm j0e hax0r
from the town council. We had a database crash and lost your tax records.
Please give us your address and the key to your house or we will be
forced to evict you and your family."
- Every time you went shopping, you'd be kicked out of the store by a
bouncer screaming 'WE'RE SORRY, THIS STORE IS TEMPORARILY UNAVAILABLE"
- Whenever you travelled to other cities, people would see your license
tag and laugh behind your back.
- even your 3 year old son would know the intimate personal details of
the town security expert.
- You'd occasionally be sent home during your day by another bouncer
telling you that the city has performed an illegal operation, but that
it's really the Earth's fucking fault.
- The local McDonalds sign would be realistically changed to "McHax0r
Wuz H3r3" and "Gr33tz 2 K}It0sawruz" almost daily. Police don't
investigate, but do show up with little scrubby tools, or just remove
the sign altogether.
- Half the kids in the day-care you use are thinly disguised fat, hairy,
drooling, diapered men holding sacks of candy.
- Your daughter would disappear to the No-Tell Motel every night, and
you'd foot the bill.
- Putting up controversial art in your home would result in the police
bashing in your door, throwing your ass on the floor, and kicking the
shit out of you while saying "Ya got two chances left, dickface. ROFLMAO
LOL!!"
- You'd send your kids to school for history, math and science, but
they'd wind up studying ph1shing, one-handed typing, and annoying
acronyms.
- You'd not have any idea who your neighbours are, and most new arrivals
would move in at night, stuff everyone's mailbox with crap, and vacate
before sunup.
- The administration would secretly sell off chunks of their personal
land in the city, while buying up neighbouring cities with imaginary
funds.
- The administration would build a huge, state of the art park, and
allow the kids to play there free, then suddenly demanding money while
ripping down the swings and beating the fuck out of kids currently
playing there.
- Don't forget the AOL playground, which is locked so that the kiddies
can not get out "for safety reasons", and then hordes of perverts
are allowed in.
- The police would work for free out of some sort of "duty" to the city,
but would secretly only be doing it for the free food stamps.
- Upon waking every morning, a voice from above would shout "HEY! YOU DO
WANT A GODDA*N AOL VISA, DON'T YOU?" To which you say "no". The voice
then replies "OK, I'LL ASK YOU TOMORROW".
- A trip to the local library would find you a few ancient doom 2
patches, commercial pix of Pamela Anderson Lee, and a viral copy of
PkZip 2.04g
- Community events would be periodically interrupted because of the
speaker randomly flying out of the meeting hall and appearing several
minutes later with some stupid comment about a Punt Monster.
- Your neighbours would be called to leave on pilgrimages to a mystical
land called USENET, where they would bleat the virtues of your fair city.
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| E-Mail |
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
You have severe problems. You just can't get over me, can you? Why lie about
me posting anything on your pathetic board?
I won't ever even look there again so don't bother trying to get to me
that way anymore. If anyone does go to your site from BendNet it won't
be me and I will ask all of my employees never to go there again either.
-Tannest <samantha@thatonegirl.com>
rbcp you are gay, collenn card is a slut and your daughter emily is a
monkey looking victim of incest. you are a punk and with the methods
described on your homepage i learned how to pull up your unlisted phone
number, disconnect your phone and if there is a password i will change
it you pussy ass hoe, fuck you and your fucked up family bitch.
-sincerely, Dino Allsman
