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rebel anarchistic tendencies 05
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B L I T Z O N C O M P U T E R C R I M E
BY SALLY MORRELL
POLICE REPORTER
Victorian police are planning a crackdown on the illegal use of computer
'bulletin boards'.
The incidence of the crime in Australia is said to be increasing.
Det-Sgt Dave Thompson, of the fraud squad's computer crime section,
said today computer bulletin boards were used by companies to relay
information, but they could be used illegally by criminals.
Det-Sgt Thompson said the use of "pirate" bulletin boards was already a
major problem in America, where they were used by pedophiles and other
criminals.
"They are used for trafficking in stolen credit card numbers, paedophiles
use sexually orientated bulletin boards to make contacts, and criminals
are using them to sell stolen goods and drugs and swap information on
accessing other people's computers", he said.
Det-Sgt Thompson has just returned from a six-week study tour of the US,
England, Canada and Hong Kong as part of an Angela Taylor Memorial
Scholarship.
He attended an FBI course on computer crime and studied how other police
forces were trying to solve the problem.
Det-Sgt Thompson said a number of criminals used computers to process and
store criminal information and to commit crimes.
He said overseas police forces were experiencing a rapid increase in
computer crime and had established computer crime sections. "This tends
to confirm claims that much computer crime goes un-reported. Our workload
has been increasing as people get to know we exist", he said.
"I have certainly confirmed my view that there is a need for investigators
with special skills in the computer crime area."
Det-Sgt Thompson said there had been cases in Victoria in which credits card
information was stored illegally on the bulletin boards.
He said it was possible for criminals with this information to buy items
using someone else's credit card.
Det-Sgt Thompson expected the incidence of computer crime to increase
in Victoria as the use of computers increased.
* The Herald Newspaper (9th October 1989)
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/{ V V V V
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proudly presents
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T H E R A T P H I L E S
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featuring..
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/ \ / \ ( / ) ( / \ ( / ' ( / \ / '
/ \ /----\ / / / /---) /_____/ <----->
__/__) \_______/ \___/_______/____/___/___)_____/ \___________/
O F T H E L O S T N E T C O M M
We are getting desperate. We have travelled twenty days into the treacherous
Channadrac Jungle, and have not found fresh water in the last two of those
days. Our food supplies are fast running out, and I fear for the lives of my
trusted companions. Wally is the most serious case, his heavy torso is no match
for this rugged terrain. However he is much needed on this expedition, for he
is our guide, and is the only member of our expedition who knows anything of
the wilds of Channadrac Forest. Already his knowledge has proved invaluable -
who else would have thought that you could find nutrition in fresh elephant
sperm. [Whose mouth is that big?-Ed.] Always in behind Wally is Bruce Wayne,
whose stories of seduction and wild women keep us entertained during the long
hard hours of walking. Also with us is Captain Blood, together with his
fearless (and cute) sister Mr Jordan, whose work with the leather whip has
often saved us from the jaws of an attacking Paedophilias Maskius, a feared
creature that stalks its prey with perverted jokes and lethal farts. Lastly,
with us is my loyal and trusted friend, Avalon, who fears nothing but the sky
falling on his head, or losing an argument with Dune Messiah about his pooter.
And our mission - to go where no bulletin board users with egoes have gone
before - to seek the legendary NetComm M5 9600 baud modem, said to reside
in a temple of gold deep within the Forests Of Channadrac. We have been told
many weird and terrifying storied about this place, of stale Nutri Grain,
putrid Orange Juice, bottles of 50/50 Metho/Kerosine, and the the strangest
story of all, and by far the most feared of all, is the Legend Of Cefiar, a
bullshitartist extraordinaire, with abilities beyond a mere Taxi Cab, more
longer lasting than a Dune Messiah message, able to brush aside mere quotes
from Ausom magazines and replace them with stories of programming powers way
beyond mortal QuickBasic beginners. But on we travel, deeper and deeper into
the wilds, determined to face and overcome every obstacle, determined to claim
this treasure for ourselves, and make the front cover of Australian Personal
Computer magazine.
We have travelled through Wendy's Valley [Nice hills too-ED.], passed over the
Lowe Rises, trudged through The Swamps Of Depression, and climbed Benny Hill.
But it wasn't much fun so we got off him and sat on the ground instead.
---------
We enter a quiet valley, flanked by cliffs of coarse limestone. We stop, there
is a figure ahead. Several figures. Infact, we were surrounded by figures.
Ones.. twos.. fives, and even nines.
Avalon and I approached one of the giant numbers. It was carved out of
soft sandstone, the work of a master craftsman. But a lazy one too, as
shavings had been left under the sculptures. Avalon paused, and told me to
listen.
"Chip, chip... chip chip.."
"Vagabond?", I asked.
"No, ", replied Avalon, "more like the sound of a chisel making contact with
soft sandstone in the hands of a master craftsman."
Mr Jordan butted in, "Like the guy over there you mean...".
We all turned to face the little man not far away, working away at one of
his unfinished figures.
I looked at Avalon, he looked back at me. We approached together.
"err... excuse me?" I politely interrupted the little man.
The figure grunted, "Piss off, I'm busy.".
"Oh... you're people!", he said, turning around showing his oriental face
to us for the first time. "How awesome!"
I looked at Avalon, he looked back at me. An amazing deduction I noted.
This guy must be a genius or something.
"Excuse me, sir, but my friends and I are just curiously interested in
your work. What are you doing, anyway?"
"What am I doing?", quizzed the little man, now up on his feet. "Isn't
it obvious.. like haven't you got the brain power to see it or something?
Huh? Huh?"
"ummm.."
"HA! What a prole! A work of a mega genius.. and he doesn't understand it! Ha!"
The little man seemed to gain energy with every word. He was wandering around
his little creation now. "Why.. can't you see.. they're numbers right??"
Avalon was intrigued. "Yes," he said, "They're numbers. Ninety-one. Eighty-two.
Ninety-four. Eighty-five. So what?"
"And what about that.. huh! Over there - what do you see?" he quizzed again,
obviously frustrated with us.
"Just three-hundred and eighty-five. Whats so deep about that? It isn't
even divisable by forty-two."
The little man was crying now, as if his life's work has just been insulted.
Infact, I think it had.
"There..there..", comforted Mr Jordan. "Tell me what it means, please.
I'm interested."
"Really?", blubbered the little man, now on his knees. "A.. And.. Anderso..",
he tried vainly to pronounce.
"ANDERSON SCORE!" yelled Avalon in new-found enlightenment. "Its an Anderson
Score!"
"Anderson score?", queried Mr Jordan.
"What?", shrieked the little man. "You don't know what an Anderson Score is?
You don't know about Life's Ultimately Awesomely Mega Achievement? Life's Goal!
The intellectual Nirvana for every mortal on this planet! The dreams of
peasants and aims of geniuses. Society's divider between ignorant and
enlightened! And you don't even know what it is??"
"What happened to.. um.." replied Mr Jordan, confused.
Bruce Wayne, who had been quiet till now, butted in. "You mean I've
been chasing the wrong things all my life, wasting my time with wine and
women and parties... that all along I've been ignoring the real meaning
to life?"
Avalon, concerned, lead us off, "No, Bruce, this man is diseased. Warped.
You can't tell me studying and exams and pressure and chemical formulas
and thematic essays is fun??"
"Maybe he's a sadist.", I added, thoughtfully.
"But!", shrieked the little man, "the ego.. the ego.. THE EGO!!"
"No.", said Avalon, determined. "Man cannot live on ego alone..."
"Thats true.", I added.
"Though some people come pretty close .."
I led the group back onto the trail. Mr Jordan waved goodbye to him. Soon
General Discomfort was back, chipping away at his numbers, twitching slightly.
--------
Soon we are out of the twisting jungle, and up onto some high plains, not
unlike the Andes. Avalon pointed out some rather large footprints nearby,
mumbled something about Ug boots.
Mr Jordan was getting nervous. Her mummy had often told her stories
about creatures that stalk [Stalker?-Ed.] the high plains, carrying off young
maidens in their great big hands. She grasped her brother tightly, glancing
back and forth along the track like the hunted.
We approached a cave in the mountain side. Captain Blood was eager to
investigate, so we all followed. Mr Jordan opted out, and sat down outside
the cave and hummed a Julian Lennon tune.
It was dark inside, and when I had the soldering-iron blow torch running,
it was revealed to be a rather boring cave too. However, Wally pointed
out the rather odd looking pile of Apple Computers in the back of the
cave, but all we could do is shrug and rejoin Mr Jordan outside.
As we neard the entrance, a scream was heard. It was Mr Jordan.
"Oh no!", cried the Captain, as he rushed ahead of us, fearing the worst
for his sister. Av and I jogged out, only to find him on the ground,
whimpering, holding what was left of a torn pin-striped jacket and a
single Doc Martin.
There were Ug-Boot foot-prints everywhere, and Avalon suggested we follow them.
It was quite easy to follow the prints, they were twice the size of any
other normal foot. Along the path we found the other Doc Martin, then further
along a dicarded pair of jeans. Captain was gettin extremely worried now, and
feared that a fate worse than sex with The Masked Avenger had befallen his
beloved sister.
The footprints led to the entrance of another cave in the hillside,
and from within we heard weird sounds. No, it wasn't screams. In fact,
it was more like laughter.
The figure of Mr Jordan approached. Her clothes were torn, her hair a mess.
She was staggering like a drunk. And laughing.
"Hahahahah! Its so small!!! Heehehehohohohohahahahah" she cried, wheezing
and giggling into Captain's arms.
"But.. did he? um.." questioned the Captain.
Between laughs Mr Jordan shook her head, and pulled out a key that dangled
from a string around her neck.
The Captain smiled, the anti-Doc chastity belt had saved her sister yet again.
[Where do they sell them ? Someone could become a billionaire!-Ed.]
I looked at Avalon, and he looked back at me, and sighed. Its a strange world.
[But it needs EVERYONE. -Ed.]
--------
The terrain changed again, we were now crossing a barren desert. Sand hills,
sand, sand hills, and sand again.
A black streak of smoke transversed the horizon, followed by an echo of
thunder. A projectile had crashed in the distance. We approached.
And there - half buried in the silicon dioxide - was a black star-ship,
its engines rising out of the plain, the nose buried deep into the sand.
Smoke billowed from the turbines.
A panel in the ship's exterior collapsed, and out stumbled two bedraggled
uniformed figures. One was tall, the other wore thick glasses. The odd couple
approached, their grey uniforms shedding layers of smoke and dust with
each step. The tall one scratched his head, the shorter one pushed his
glasses back onto his nose, sniffed, and stared up at us.
Avalon, Bruce and I were motionless, The Captain fidgeted while his sister
backed up behind us.
"Damn Cabal..", said the tall one, breaking the ice.
"Yeah.. damn Cabal!", added the shorter one.
I turned to Avalon. "Cabal?"
"Cabal", began Avalon, "a race of warrior beings, that roam the galaxy
in search of people to kill, causing havoc, depradation, suffering,
and generally act the arsehole. Feared most by the legendary Traders,
an equally mindlessly violent race of people, who would kill anybody
or anything for credits, fighters and egoes."
[So this is how modern day men fight over women ?-Ed.]
I turned back to the odd couple. "You - Traders ?"
The tall one replied first, "Yeah, we're Traders! Top of the high score
table in every good galaxy this side of Sol!"
"Yeah, we're always on top!", added the shorter one.
"Let me introduce ourselves", began the taller one. "I am Garet Jax,
Trade Wars Hero Extraordinaire, and this here is my partner, Quantum Leap.
We were just cruising in to pickup 100 ore in sector 69 when these
Cabal - 500 off them - came from nowhere and took us by suprise. Luckily
we were able to escape with our lives by catching a warp to this dead end
sector and locate a planet."
Bruce noted the state of the ship, and commented "And I guess you learnt
to pilot a star-ship at the same place Doc learnt to drive huh?"
"That", answered Garet, "was not our fault."
"Why, what happened?", I asked.
Quantum explained "We were momentarily distracted when a picture of
Yahoo Serious, naked, appeared on our monitors. By the time we had
finished it was too late - we crashed. We did make a recording of it though
but its on BETA."
Just then, a great booming voice echoed around us... "Hi, its your friendly
sysop here, just fiddling with the Trade Wars Editor, making sure I'm
still No.1"
Instantaneously, the ship, Garet and Quantum, disappeared.
----------
Back into the forest, the track is flanked by granite boulders. We stop,
there is a noise ahead, something foriegn and unnatural to our ears. Wally
decides to take lead, and we move further into the valley, towards this
strange sound.
Closer we get, and soon we can recognize the sound as music - singing - a
female voice singing. It is a catchy tune, and soon we are all singing the
song.. singing and dancing.. singing these words...
"Those bedroom eyes.. those bedroom eyes..."
We soon find where the music is coming from - a cave in the rock. This cave
has a rather strange opening, almost as if the boudlers on either side were
outstretched legs, the pebbles at the end the toes on the feet. And the
entrance of the cave balanced by several scrubby trees.
[I prefer it when its all flesh and human size.-Ed.]
"Oh no!" cried Avalon. "Its the dreaded cave of the Evil Goddess Of Seduction,
Yahoo Serious!"
However, the music is too loud, we cannot hear Avalon's cries, and we continue
to dance to the music, nearing the cave like it was a magnet.
"I can't resist you.... no matter how I try"
"Stop! Stop!" screamed Avalon.. "Don't listen to the music! Cover your ears!"
"If you enter that cave you'll be lost forever... "
The noise was getting louder, the ground was shaking.. the boulders on either
side trembling. Fearing the lives of the others, bravely Avalon rushed ahead of
us, and pushed us all to the ground, screaming at us to cover our ears. We were
saved. But as we crawled back away from the cave, covering our ears from the
noise, I turned and realised Wally was not with us.
I cried out for him.. "Wally! Come back! Wally!!!", but alas he was too far
into the cave to hear me. Avalon had a brain wave, and broke into his
backpack, bringing out his trusty walkman. Slipping in a damn good tape of
Transvision Vamp, he placed the headphones on me and turned the volume up loud.
I understood immediately what I had to do, and ran into the cave to save Wally.
The rock passage soon opened into a giant ante-chamber, and down below I could
see Wally, walking with hands out-stretched like a zombie. And there, in front
of Wally, was a figure not entirely unlike The Goddess Of Seduction, the
legendary Yahoo Serious. She was naked, and making motions with her out-
stretched hands towards Wally. [Could anyone resist her ?-Ed.]
"Stop! Wally! Stop!" I cried, "Don't look at her tits. What ever you do, don't
look at her tits!"
But it was too late, and Wally was now on his knees, begging at the Goddess.
Ugh, it was a terrible sight, and I dared not look, but being the glutton that
I am, I did, and regretted seeing the last dying moments of my beloved
companion Wally to a fate worse than death - seeing Yahoo's tits and not being
able to fondle them.
As soon as the last dying smoulders of Wally disintegrated, the Goddess turned
towards me, and smiled a seductive smile. Fearing the same fate as Wally, I
covered my eyes and turned to leave. But, alas, the tape finished, and Wendy
James stopped orgasming.
"Shit!", I swore, and quickly pressed the eject button, swapped the tape
around, and stuck it back in again. Depressing play, I waited for the next
song, hoping I could sustain the brief moments under the influence of the
hypnotic music around me. I prayed to every divine being but myself that Avalon
had better musical taste than to put Kate Cebrano on backside to Transvision
Vamp. The song began, it was Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. I sighed in relief, and
ran out of the cave, thankful to be alive.
As soon as we had passed through the Valley of Seduction, I told of the sad
fate of Wally.
---------
The path we were following again left the scrub, and we were out in the open,
steadily rising into some barren, exposed mountain ranges. We paused at the
approach to a steep hill, and the Captain pointed out to us that a building of
some description resided on this mountain. Dark clouds loomed overhead, thunder
echoed in the distance, and howling wind developed as we made our way up the
mountain side. A light rain began to fall.
The track circled around the moutain, deteriorating into a rock scrabble.
There was little vegetation, and often scree slipped from under our feet. And
there - before us - an enormous monument to the gods - a building of gold on
the mountain top, encircled by a dark thunder-storm sky.
"The Golden Temple of Channadrac!", exclaimed Avalon, as we scrabbled up over
the rocks.
The entrance to the temple was flanked by pillars of intricate carvings draped
with vines and epiphytes. I paused to examine the carvings, one of them
depicted a schematic diagram of an Apple IIe with the latest sideways parrallel
processing CPU/FPU digital analog converter.
We faced a giant stone door.
"The tomb of the Cefiar.", noted Avalon. "Beyond here no man has ever returned
alive!"
"Right", I replied, "No man has ever returned. But what about a woman, huh?"
"but but..", stammered Mr Jordan.
"No buts..", I insisted. "Anyway, you get lung cancer if you do."
Mr Jordan approached the stone door, and pushed it open. A foul racid smell of
kerosine emptied itself into the room. Mr Jordan trembled, and looked back at
her brother for support. Gathering all the courage she could muster, Mr J
stepped into the darkness.
The door closed behind her.
"She's good as dead..", said Avalon, in his own classicly optimistic way.
We sat down on the cold stone floor, and waited. The Captain started an
argument with Avalon about Amiga pirating, Bruce studied the intricate
carvings on the walls, and I slid into a corner, and thought about Yahoo
in Klate's spa. [No wonder you were blind-Ed.]
------
It was dark inside the tomb, but a faint light in the distance gave something
for Mr J to focus on. As she neared the light, she heard a soft electronic hum.
It was difficult navigating to the light, whichever path she choose seemed to
end up in a dead end of computer magazines, broken electronic appliances, or
other junk.
Under the light, Mr Jordan studied the setup. In one corner stood a computer,
and surrounding it was several modems, two monitor and a keyboard. Intrigued,
Mr J switched on the monitor. Why - it was the Hard Rock Cafe!
The temptation to logon was immense, but a quick scan of the users online
- Doomlord, Byte Image, Shadow & Keneniah - was enough to change her mind.
Dutiously, she unplugged the golden Netcomm M5, and tucked it under her arm.
Glancing at the row of DataCrafts, Mr J thought to herself, then reached
towards them, and logged each one off systematically.
------
After almost an eternity, the giant stone doors of the tomb swung open, and out
stepped a relieved Mr Jordan, grasping the golden Netcomm. Bruce appeared from
his wanderings, munching on some stale nutri grain, and we rose to leave.
"NOT SO FAST!", came a deep voice from behind us.
Mr Jordan screamed. I turned, and saw a figure emerging from behind the stone
doors.
"Its the Cefiar!", cried Avalon. "Run for your lives!!!!"
And we did.
Mr Jordan was first out of the temple, followed by the footloose Bruce Wayne.
Avalon was next, and I was close behind. There was no sign of The Captain.
We waited, but he did not appear.
"I'm going in...", I offered, in a heroic kind of way.
"Your life, not mine..", comforted Avalon, as I entered the temple once again.
--------
For the second time I cautiously made my way into the temple. Soon I found
The Captain, sprawled out on the floor in a pool of blood. I leant by the body,
and noticed a large arrow protuding from the back. He was still alive, and
trying to speak.
"Doc.. Doc.." he whispered, wincing in pain. "Doc.. ta..take care of ..
..my...my..sis" [We're sure he'll do an 'excellent' job of that.-Ed.]
The Captain died. I paused in requiem, then noticed there was an object in his
hand. It was a key.
A shadow fell over body, I turned and saw the Cefiar standing no more than
a few metres away, aiming his cross-bow at me.
Grabbing the key, I jumped over the body and out of the way of a the arrow
which scuttled harmlessly down the passage. Not wishing to stop for a chat
about 'puters, I fled out of the temple like an Ethiopian with a MacDonalds
voucher.
--------
A feeling of victory accompanied the final few steps out of the Channadrac
forest. The golden Netcomm M5 in our possession, we had become heroes.
Across the highway sat the Docmobile - two tonne of pure Volvo. But there
was another car beside it, a purple Holden panel-van, with a short male wearing
Bolles leaning against it.
"Ah there is the modem you borrowed from me so many years ago!", said
Night Stalker, releasing the Netcomm from Mr Jordan's arms.
"Gee thanks Doc.. I knew you'd return it one day!" With a swirl of dust the
panel-van roared out of sight down the highway.
[And he didn't make a pass at her!-Ed.]
"Come on Av." I sighed, opening the door to the Volvo, "Can't win 'em all..".
Dejected, Avalon stepped in the car, together with Mr Jordan and Bruce.
"Wait till Rat Six. I heard its featuring a lot on Yahoo."
"Oh goodie.." replied Avalon. "I like a story with nice proportions.."
Da Endth.
Epilooog
Suprisingly, Australian Personal Computer Magazine refused to print our story.
Our only real recognition came when I posted our story up in the World War III
mesg area of the xover, along with all the other Dune Messiah bullshit. Then
again, people will believe anything written there.
Doc '89
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A P H E L I A ' S I N ' S A N D O U T ' S
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Well hello ppls its your favorite gossip columnist Aphelia Bottom back to tell
you what you should be into. But before I start I would like to dispell any
rumours that I am a sexual pervert. This is true.
Paedophila is being challenged for No.1 rating as the most popular form of
sexual perversion to an even more kinkier form of entertainment - baby sex.
But enough of my private life, this is my summary of the Month Of September:
Bruce Wayne stars in Eistedfodd, Yarra Valley runners up to the faggots from
Hailebury.
Avalon says something nice about Janine for the first time.
[Wonders never cease to happen-Ed.]
General Discomfort's team wins the Tradewars Teamwork Competition, and at
present the General is in hospital (3.10pm, Channel 9, weekdays) having surgery
to his cranuium to allow for his head to achieve a new world record size.
Stuart Gill is charged in court for his actions in misinforming police and
general misrepresentation. May he rot in hell.
Catchyas next month...
Aphelia .
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"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me!"
- Hot Water, Talk Channel BBS.
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__________________________________________________
/ \ \
\__| Capitol Cinemas proudly present |
| |
| |
| Yahoo Serious |
| |
| in |
| |
| TOO MUCH TOO SOON III |
| |
| kinkier than Masky in a pet store |
| more orgasms than a cocktail bar |
| rated XXXX for the credits alone |
| |
__| |
/ | another fine DocFilms Inc. production |
\_/________________________________________________/
_______________________________________________________________________________
I I
I RAT Top 8 at 8 Singles Chart Dedications I
I_____________________________________________________________________________I
I I
I [8] "My Obsession" (IceHouse) Doc I
I (...is Yahoo Serious' Tits) (and numerous others) I
I I
I [7] "Are You Old Enough?" (Dragon) Mr Jordan. I
I ( 7 today! ) I
I I
I [6] "Pain Is So Close To Pleasure" (Queen) The Masked Avenger. I
I I
I I
I [5] "The Mess" (1927) Cefiar Channadrac. I
I ( Clean ya room! ) I
I I
I [4] "Juke Box Hero" (Foreigner) Bruce Wayne. I
I ( for Eistedfodd ) I
I I
I [3] "Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay" BigF00T. I
I ( 8 months on the dole! ) I
I I
I [2] "Bohemian Rhapsody" (Queen) Avalon .. I
I ( nothing really matters...) I
I I
I [1] "Die Young, Stay Pretty" (Blondie) Yahoo Serious. I
I ( Died Eve of her 19th Birthday..) I
I_____________________________________________________________________________I
I I
I All these singles may be purchased at The Virgin Megastore. I
I (And no Masky, TVM isn't a new kind of Kindergarten) I
I_____________________________________________________________________________I
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/ / ____ ____ /____ ____ ____ ___ ____ ___ /
/ / / / / / \ / / / / / /___ /___/ / /
/_____/ /___/ /___ /_____ / \ /___/ /___/ ____/ /___ /___/
/
/
by Mr Jordan and friends...
chief editor : Doc
assistant editor : Avalon ..
[Editors comment: Introducing our latest addition to the Dead Rat Society,
a relatively new face on the boards; a sweet innocent looking girl who,
when not off to another hippy party can be found molesting poor victimised
RAT authors on The Cafe.]
Once upon a time there was a boy named Doc. He lived in Queensland with
his gay paedophile uncle because he was an orphan because his parents were
killed by a pyromaniac murderer who cut them up into tiny bits with a chainsaw
before pouring petrol all over their house and lighting a match.
[Dune Messiah???? -Ed]
Doc and Uncle Masky lived in a house on the top of a lonely hill in a
small country town called Nirvana, with only a goat, a chicken and a small pony
to keep them company.
As Doc grew up he learnt many things off his uncle to do with
paedophillia, bondage and the goat, the chicken and the small pony in the back
yard.
[hey you think chicken feathers are kinky, you oughta try fucking the
chicken! -Ed]
At around the age of 17, when doc was finally starting puberty, he began
to wonder what was out there in the big bad world. So one night when all was
quiet he packed his bag, took the $2.37 (his lifetime savings) out of his money
box and left his Uncle Maskey with only a note to tell him where he'd gone.
[I'm not poor.... its just that I'm going through a 'personal recession'.-Ed]
As soon as Doc arrived in the nearest town he realised that his money
would not get him very far.
"Taxi!!!" he quietly yelled in his un-broken, boyish voice. But he
didn't have a hope of being heard, the only reason the taxi driver stopped was
so he wouldn't run over Doc's gangly arms that he was waving about blocking the
entire left lane on the road.
[All the better to strangle you with, my dear-Ed]
SCRRRRREEEEEEECCCHHHHH!!!! The huge yellow V8 Monaro taxi pulled up to
curb knocking over some garbage bins on the way. Immediately the driver jumped
out screaming "MY DUCO!!! LOOK THERE'S A SCRATCH IN MY DUCO!!! SHIT IF YOU
HADN'T MADE ME PULL OVER THIS WOULD NEVER OF HAPPENED!!! YOU'RE GONNA PAY
LITTLE BOY!!! I'M GONNA CHARGE YOU DOUBLE FOR THIS RIDE!!!"
[I thought it was you who had to pay for those sort of things Ivan.. -Ed]
"Oh dear," thought doc to himself, "He does seem rather angry, oh but
it's not my fault i didn't know my arms were so long and gangly."
[All the better to reach up Masky's Arse -Ass.Ed]
Doc rode a dangerous journey in the taxi all the way to Melbourne, but
when he got there he was in for quite a shock.
[How many round-abouts are there between here and Queensland? -Ed]
"Right Kid that'll be $143 dollars." sneered Ivan the taxi driver.
"Sorry sir but I've only got $2.37, will that do?" asked Doc fearfully.
[Remember: "American Express-Don't leave home without someone else's"-Ass.Ed]
"PISS OFF KID!!! WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS??? LISTEN MATE YOUR GONNA
PAY AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT!!!" and with that he VRRROOOOOOMMMMMed off mumbling
to himself "Shit I gotta get to Cef's. I just gotta log someone off." And off
he went to do just that.
Doc slowly walked through the streets of Melbourne with no money (the
$2.37 he did have was dropped down a drain when Ivan the taxi driver smashed
Doc's head against the brick wall) and only wearing the lace nighty his uncle
had given him for his birthday last year.
Just then a dole-bludging bum, wearing ug boots, walked up to him and
begged, "Spare a penny for the the poor."
Doc felt sorry for the bum and asked, "What's your name old man???"
"BigF00T.", answered the bum, "I'd better be going now. Got to go pick
up some dole cheques." and off he walked into the sunset singing "I'm a
dole-bludger and I'm okay, I sleep all night and I bludge all day..."
"Oh I wish I had a friend." sighed Doc. Just then a man in a blue
uniform came walking round the corner whistling the theme to Top Gun.
"Can I help you there sonny???" asked the police officer.
"Oh yes please sir. You see I don't have any friends, will you be my
friend????" asked Doc hopefully.
"Who me?? questioned the constable, who's one mission in life was to
protect the innocent, keep crime off the streets, never get drunk, find a woman
who liked him and who has extremely large tits, and to generally depress all
other bbs users.
" Why of course I'll be your friend."
And with that they walked off hand in hand discussing the latest range
in studded leather bondage suits with matching whips.
That night when Doc went to bed at the constable's house, after
they'd stayed up very late (10:30) watching the latest in gay bondage pornos,
Doc had a terrible nightmare about one of the films he had seen that night
called "Nightmare On Elm St. IV". He was being chased by the dreaded "Freddy
Iceman" who's blades on his Freddy glove (custom made by Infiltrator) were
sharper than ever and he was trying to stab Doc with them but kept missing
because there wasn't much there to stab. Just then to protect himself Doc
grabbed a knife and started stabbing Freddy Iceman till he was nothing but a
pile of blood and guts. Doc woke with a start to find that he had stabbed his
new friend to death with a bread and butter knife during his sleep.
[I always wondered what went on in the mind of a 14 yr old girl....
...now I wish I had never wondered. -Ed]
Doc left his friend's house crying. He walked for miles and
miles howling mournfully till he stumbled onto the doorstep of the X family's
residence. He weakly knocked on the door and it was opened by a woman with a
strong dutch accent, "Oh you poor thing," she said to Doc "look at ye yer all
covered in blood.Oh my dear boy you must come in and we'll get you cleaned up."
[Oh but my mother would never do a thing like that..-Ed]
Mrs. X cleaned Doc up and after a hearty stew she showed him to
his room ... it was like an attic, full of old computers, and as he began to
explore he discovered an old 300bd modem. "Now if I plug this into here... and
this here .. and i turn this switch on here ... and I type this ... "ATD8942815
" I wonder what would happen ...
Welcome to the Hard Rock Cafe!
... WOW he'd connected to one of the raddest buliten boards known to man
(now can I have higher access???- MJ) and as soon as he had filled out
his questionairre and had reached the main menu he said ... "Now I wonder what
would happen if i typed C ... then R ???
There are 4 other callers in this conference.
... WOW hey whats this??? ...
(1:THE MASKED AVENGER) HEY YOU FUCKHEAD WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING HERE ON
THIS CRAP SHIT BOARD? ONLY LOOSERS CALL HERE THAT'S WHY I CALL ALL THE TIME!!!
(4:SPECTOR) Hello DOC What computer you got??? got an amiga??? wanna pirate??
(0:SYSOP) Hello Doc
(2:PHSYCOSONIC CINDY) G'day Doc
(5:IVAN TROTSKY) Hi Ho! HEY!! Your the little kid who scratched my car!!! right
you die!!!
NO CARRIER
... So now you see this was Doc's very first bbsing experience and it
was just that one shot that got him addicted ... it's a sad story ... but it's
a well known fact that Doc still lurks around on boards, harrasing 12 yr olds,
[you said you were 14?? -Ed] trying out his new bondage gear on anyone and
everyone, being logged off by Ivan Trotsky, inviting people into his Volvo
for a spin round the block (and into a telephone pole) and doing other normal
bbs user kinda things.
[hey it was the telephone pole's fault for being in the middle of the road-Ed]
DOC ...
More depressing than Byte Image and Doomlord rolled into one!
More perverted than Animal Farm!
More Gangly than a member of the Globe Trotters!
More bumfluff on the top lip than a 15yr old who hasn't started shaving
yet!
THE END!
[I love you too MJ. -Ed]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Little Girl Appreciation Society
proudly present
the amazing adventures of..
P E T E R T H E P A E D O P H I L I C P O S T M A N
=============================================================
One day when Peter the Paedophilic Postman was promenading the pathway,
he paused and peered at a pretty little girl sitting on a gate post.
"Hi, pretty little Princess", said Peter, "how would you like to poke your
pointy nose into my parcel-carrier here and peer at my parcels?"
The pretty little girl, whose name was Polly Paddon, innocent of the
perilous position she was in, was curious to peer into Peter's parcel-carrier,
and so she placed her pointy toes on the pavement, and leaned over and
positioned herself to peer into the parcels. A particularly evil smile
appeared on Peter's face, as he proceeded to push little Polly into the
parcel-container and pulled the zip up tight.
Later that day, Peter the Paedophilic Postman returned to his private
appartment, placed the parcel-carrier on the bench, unzipped the bag and
out popped Polly. Immediately Peter grasped Polly and prodded her
pelvic region. Polly prepared to scream but Peter pounced on her and
patched her up with a peice of packing-tape. He then undid Polly's
pin-striped pantaloons and perused her pubescent proportions.
Peter the Paedophile was now ready for penetration. He popped out his
pulsating purple penis, procrastinated on which penetration was first,
then proceeded to penetrate Polly's pelvic region. Peter popped in and
out, panting with every pelvic thrust. Soon Polly cracked and Peter's
plaything was prematurely made redundant. Peter was pissed off, but
persisted with the broken Polly until she passed away. Peter then tossed
the limp Polly onto a pile of past playthings, proceeded to the
pink fridge and pulled out a Popsicle to suck on.
And now your probably wondering what sort of pervert would write
such a pitiful piece of propaganda. Possibly he is already behind
bars in Pentridge, or perhaps he is still out there, passing
by your daughter's school playground, picking her up in his Pintara...
Pete.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
_______ _ _ _______ _________ _______ _ _ __ __
|#######| |#\ |#| |#######| |#########| |#######| |#\ /#| \#\ /#/
|#| |#| |##\ |#| |#| |#| |#| |#| |#| |##\ /##| \#\_/#/
|#|___|#| |###\ |#| |#|___|#| |#| |#| |#| |###\/###| \###/
|#######| |#|\#\|#| |#######| |#| |#| |#| |#|\##/|#| |#|
|#| |#| |#| \#\#| |#| |#| |#| |#|___|#| |#| \/ |#| |#|
|#| |#| |#| \##| |#| |#| |#| |#######| |#| |#| |#|
_______ _ _______ _________ ________
|######## |#| |#######| |#########| |########|
|#| |#| |#| |#| |#|_______ |#|_______
|#| |#| |#|___|#| |#########| |########|
|#| |#| |#######| |#| |#|
|#|_____ |#|_____ |#| |#| _______|#| ______|#|
|#######| |#######| |#| |#| |#########| |########|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Biology of a Pooter Freak. (computerus addictius)
grotty, unkept, __ ears well developed for listening
unwashed hair ------\/ | for carriers but also for ignoring
_&&&&&&_ | parental requests to get off the
general head swollen by / _ _ \ | 'puter
boasts about hacking ] o o [ <----------- red eyes from
\_ . < .' _/ looking at a
mouth almost ------> \__==_./ <------\ monitor for too
totally seized _____||______ | long
up, all talk / __ __ \ |
conducted over a | | &|. .|& | | zits. from eating pizza
modem or not at all | |/ | | | | at 3am during hacking or
"" | | | ""\ programming marathons
_________/ | | \
grotty armpits. | | <-\ \______ "hammer" fingers from
washing is considered | . | \ constant typing
a waste of time, the | | \
time considered better / \ \______ note the obvious poor
spent programming /--> /U\ | health. reduced to
/ | | | | "gangle" status by
Gods Greatest Gift _/ | | | | a diet of pizza and
To Mankind. hardly | _| | | |_ absolutely no exercise
ever used. | /___| |___\ (apart from the walk from
| 'puter to fridge and
one foot (12")__| /|\ /|\ back again)
| |
another foot________| |______ yet another foot
specimens : Too Many
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Biology of a Sysop. (systemus operatus)
brain. for decifering \
net-mail manuals \| ______
~~' /////\\\ <--- latest "slick" haircut
| o o |
\ /_ /
quizical mouth ------> ____\__/____ "shrug" shoulders to
for acting the / \ <---- emphasise that image of
innocent when | | "such is life", an admirable
confronted with | | . . | | philosophy that every good
questions like | | | | lazy uncommitted sysop
'why has the d/l | | | | should have.
directory been | |______| | ___
missing for the \_| |_/ something ---> / __
last month???' | ?? | else every / /
| || | good sysop /_/
"lead" feet for | || | should have _/ |
driving with -------> _|__||__|_ (but only <__/||
<____||____> some sysops
can get)
specimen : Night Stalker Janine -->
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Biology Of The "Younger, Enthusiatic With Life" Bulletin Board User.
____
%%%%_ -------- /// o\
---- %%% o ) /// _> H E L P !
%%% > 'i only ///_ __/
%% ,/ wanna chat' ---- /// | |_________
---- | |_______ | ,=======~
| _/----- | __}
| | -------- | |
---- | | / |
( |==> 'so do i' (_ |
---- / @\ ------- / \
/ \ /____/ \
|__/ / /
/_ /_
desperatus malus fridigus femalus real hunkus ->
specimens : [withheld!]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
10 Reasons To Be A Paedophile
---------------------------------
* there are lots and lots of little girls, but not many paedophiles
* they can't get pregnant
* they don't think its morally wrong
* they have short memories
* they are honoured if you come prematurely
* lollies are cheaper than night-clubs
* they have lots of little friends
* when you pick them up from school you can perve at all the other little
girls in their uniform dresses
* they don't know how to convert inches to centimetres
10 Reasons NOT To Be A Paedophile
-------------------------------------
* its illegal
* its immoral
* you could injure them
* you can only break them once
* interfering social workers
* mommie
* daddie
* daddie's shot-gun
* a friend might call "Dob In A Paedophile"
* sometimes messy
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
S E P T E M B E R A W A R D S
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm a pop star!" Award............................................Bruce Wayne
"Don't Hassle Me" Award..............................................Mr Jordan
"I'm 'NOT' Having A Sexual Relationship With My Computer" Award...Dune Messiah
[Remember, AMIGA is Mexican for Girlfriend.-Ed.]
Bottle Blonde Of The Month.........................................Wendy James
[I don't want your money honey... I just want your body! - Ed]
Soppy Message Of The Month.......................................Yahoo Serious
Wally Of The Month......................................................Benny!
Egotripper Of The Month.....................................General Discomfort
[Sorry Yahoo and Batman. You'll have to do better!-Ed.]
Loozer Of The Month..............................................Eric Anderson
Faggots Of The Month...........................Anything that goes to Hailebury
"How much for your daughter??" Award................................Mr Lambert
[Why not kidnap her Doc? - Ed.]
Cheap Aftershave of the Month....................................Doc's Brother
Pig Of The Month.................................................Doc's Brother
[1/2 pizza, 1 pckt CCs, 2 litres of Coke, 1 Vic Bitter (mine!) in 10 mins! -Ed]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
C R E D I T S
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rebel Anarchistic Tendencies Is..
------------------------------------
Avalon .. [editor]
Doc [founder]
and introducing..
Mr Jordan [authoress]
also with..
Yahoo Serious (Brigitte) [& Jaymes!]
Wally (Lachlan)
Bruce Wayne (sysop, Chicago)
General Discomfort
Cefiar Channadrac (sysop, The Cafe)
Quantum Leap (Matty)
Dragon Ruler
Garet Jax (Harro)
Page Gap (Docess)
Dave Seikel
Dr Who
Janine & Night Stalker [1 year and going strong.-Ed.]
Lash Clone
Crystal
Captain Blood
Kate Cebrano [Both of them - Ed.]
Da Girl On Da Milka Ad..
Sheila On "Whose the Boss?"
Russ's Girlfriend
Wendy James
Cadet Authors Welcome
-------------------------
Send your work and all of your qualifications (inc. sex, age, bra size, etc)
in EMAIL to the following address:
Avalon ..
c/o The CrossOver
(+61-3) 364-1282
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
C A L L T H E S E B O A R D S
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(+61-3) Melbourne, Australia
The CrossOver...................364-1282 [note the new number!]
Chicago.........................728-6698 [1200 & 2400 CCITT, 300 Bell]
also
The Burning Crucifix............562-0938 [SPACEs & RETURN at carrier]
The Twilite Zone................878-3539 [Back Up!!]
The Hard Rock Cafe..............894-2815 [4 lines with chat]
The Mad House...................758-9573 [now in EGOnet]
and for all those that don't already know..
My board has been down for six months! And if anybody rings at 3am again
asking for it, I will personally rip up the telephone line all the way to
their house and shove the handset in the first orifice I lay eyes onto.
- Doc (NOT running a board)
[Lets hope it's Yahoo! -Ed.]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
T H A N K S T O :
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Night Stalker, for the loan of his Netcomm modem for almost a year! Dood!
[And sysop of the greatest BBS still!-Ed.]
On behalf of Bruce Wayne - thanks to all the people who helped him get
his new board up. Its going great now (minus one modemless comrade).
[And so are the ANSI screens!-Ed.]
Yahoo Serious for all your peanut butter sandwiches.
Everyone who supports this monthly phile with suggestions, comments and ideas.
[ME! Tnx.-Ed.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
D I S C L A I M E R
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is not meant to be an insultive phile. Its pure purpose is to offer
a phun, enjoyable text phile for the users of the above mentioned boards.
As they say in the classics...
"However, if you are still offended, stiff shit."
[We feel quite proud of ourselves... 'Not a single mention of Jaymes!' -Ed]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RAT is now officially unofficiated with Anarchistic Tendencies.
All coincidences are now coincidental.
Although similarities exist between The Dead Rat Society and the Evil Angel
productions, there is no "link" between the two. Rat serves different boards,
with original script. The styles may be the same, but that is all. So shove
that up your arse, Mr Ice Man.
The Society itself is "just a bunch of friends", membership is informal.
This is probably because no one will want to admit to being a member when
the Police start making investigations in the New Year. I plan to be
fruit picking interstate during this period, and if your name has appeared
here, I suggest you also make plans to become Geographically Indecisive
for a while.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a message from the editor to any Police or any others who are looking
for evidence, etc to shut us down with :
In the immortal words of 'GOD', "BBSs are for fun and fantasy, anyone who takes
them seriously is mentally ill.", I don't quote him on that.
Avalon ..
Editor Of The Rat Philes
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
C O M I N G S O O N
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Star Truck
The Meaning To Life
The Untold Story Of Yahoo Serious..
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Dead Rat Society Lives
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
