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the unplastic news issue 09
The Unplastic News #9: The Prank Issue April 1993
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ISSUE #9 --> Prank Issue
April 93
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0 \ / 0 Get a can of shaving cream, throw it in a freezer 0 \ / 0
0 \ / 0 for about a week. Then take it out, peal the metal 0 \ / 0
0 X 0 off and put it where you want....bedroom, car, etc. 0 X 0
0 / \ 0 As it thaws, it expands, enough to fill up a car 0 / \ 0
0 / \ 0 or probably a bedroom. 0 / \ 0
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Let us be thankful for the fools.
But for them the rest of us could not succeed.
Mark Twain (Samuel Langhorne Clemens)
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April 1993 FREE the odd e-mail magazine w/a fever
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C O N T E N T S
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1) Pranks and tricks that we recommend you try at home.
2) Editorial: Thaloneous Platypus
3) Stories of getting snagged, screwed and swindled
4) The Duk Report: B. Hathrume Duk
5) True News
6) Jokes BigBrother Plays On YOU
"Remember that all tricks are
either knavish or childish."
SAMUEL JOHNSON
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
++++
the unplastic news is available ++++
at the following ftp news stands: ++++
++++
redspread.css.itd.umich.edu in EFF.journals ++++
ftp.eff.org in pub/journals ++++
quartz.rutgers.edu in pub/journals ++++
====
or by subscription by sending e-mail to: ====
====
tibbetts@hsi.com ====
Perspiring Minds Want To Know ====
============================================================================
HAMLET
Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with.
III.iv.2
**** IMPORTANT NOTICE *****
The Unplastic News is Hitting the road!
We will be travelling
for about 1 month...driving from the right coast to the left one.
We have a list of places to meet and people to see, so drop us
a line if there is something you think we should not miss! Our
old address will still work for another six months...more to come...
our new San Francisco e-mail address is being set up now...
=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*
cavanaug@lees.cogsci.uiuc.edu (John Cavanaugh) writes:
> I vaguely remember a story about a virus that was planted in one of
> the mainframes at Berkeley or MIT many years ago. It was so entrenched
> into the OS that they couldn't find it to disable it. The virus was
> called "cookie" and it would occasionally interrupt user service on
> terminals and say "I want a cookie" it was a non-destructive virus
> and was disabled by merely typing Cookie. As I said before I was SO
> entrenched that there were notes on the terminals in the labs saying
> if the computer asks for a cookie please type "cookie".
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Just as professional drinkers retire from the field of play
on New Year's Eve, allowing the turf to be chewed up by
dumbass amateurs, skilled operators in the dirty-tricks
business leave April First to the KICK ME-sign-on-the-pants
crowd.
GETTING EVEN
The Complete Book Of Dirty Tricks
George Hayduke
=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*
In the latest issue of *Risks*, I read about a sting operation conducted
by the pay-per-view company that carried the Riddick Bowe-Evander Hollyfield
fight. Here's the story:
Continental Cablevision of Hartford broadcast a special offer of a free
T-shirt during last fall's Holyfield/Bowe fight (14Nov92). Unlike most pay-
per-view broadcasting, this one did not show up through legitimate decoders.
The ad and its 800 number only showed up when watched through illegal
decoders. 140 freeloaders called the 800 number within minutes of the ad's
broadcast. Continental sent the T-shirts by certified, return receipt mail,
and then sent them a followup letter reminding them of the federal law (fines
up to $10,000) and demanding a $2000 fine. [Chicago Tribune, 3 Feb 1993]
arthurc@sfsuvax1.sfsu.edu
(Arthur Chandler)
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Editorial
by Thaloneous Platypus
This is the last issue of Unplastic News before we go on the road.
Next month we hit the highways and drive to San Francisco, California.
We will compile a road issue and be back on the air at a new address.
Write and tell us about weird things we should stop and see
as we travel the northern rout from New England to the western shores.
For now, here is an issue about pranks. We'll start it off with a
story about an asshole I once knew.
AssHole
^^^^^^^^
I once knew this moron who lived in Ithaca, New York, USA.
This guy had a miserable life. He smelled like old cheese.
Creepy was what some would call a sexist motherfucking pig. As a
matter of fact, he's what _I_ would call a sexist motherfucking pig.
His wife left him on Halloween weekend and, when she told me
the story, I spit out the drink in my mouth and laughed my guts out.
On Halloween weekend, Creepy became the brunt of two rather
graphic practical jokes. He deserved it, of course.
He would toss his toenails into his wife's underwear drawer.
Creepy was in a hotel outside of Bighampton, NY that Halloween,
doing some convention. He sold plastic cereal toys at cereal conventions.
I never knew they had cereal conventions until Gladys (that's Creepy's
wife's name) told me.
He wanted to get a prostitute. He always wanted to get a prostitute.
He got one at the Hotel before he headed home after the cereal convention.
But he also got screwed.
The lady dazzled him so much in bed that Creepy didn't see it coming.
The lady said, "I'll lie down and you can tie me up and you can do whatever
you want to do to me for the first half-hour and then for the second half
hour I can do the same to you."
Creepy liked the idea and tied the lady up.
When his half hour was over, Creepy rolled on his back and spread his
arms for the lady's handcuffs. The lady shackled him, kissed him and
walked out of the room. Seconds later an obese albino guy in a Batman
suit rushes in, fucks Creepy in the ass and runs out.
If I had been there, I would have sat on the sidelines and eaten popcorn
and cheered the fat guy on.
Creepy stayed in the hotel that night. He wept. He'd been taken.
He couldn't go home to his wife.
Not on Holloween.
Creepy drank that night in the hotel bar.
He said, "Hey barkeep, how old're you? You look like you are going to die soon."
On the way back to his room he threw up at the feet
of the maid and told the clerk woman that she needed a diet.
By the time he passed out in his bed, the entire hotel staff hated him as
much as I do.
Creepy awoke the next day and went out for a walk and a coffee while
the maid cleaned his room. When he returned, he sat in his room and
watched a couple of Madonna videos and smoked a few cigarettes before
he grabbed his suitcase and his camera and his umbrella and his tie.
Of course when he got home and cried to his wife about the horrible fat man
with the pink eyes
under
black leather, his wife only said, "Good-bye, asshole."
I saw Creepy two weeks later at CVS. His developed film was ready and
he was flipping slowly through his pictures in the store. He flipped to one
picture and stopped stone cold. He stood there next to the magazine rack,
staring. He slowly looked up and saw me standing there next to the
rubbing alcohol. His jaw dropped. The pictures trickled between his
fingers like a dropped deck of cards. He gasped and ran out the door.
Of course I picked up the pictures, put them in a stack and started
flipping through them. I didn't know what I was looking for. I saw
some pictures of a hotel banquet hall, some cereal boxes, a convention
with booths and advertising. Then I saw a picture and gasped.
I stared at it , cackling and gasping. On the right side of the picture was a man's
uniformed hand, white gloves and cufflinks, flipping the middle finger to the
camera. And taking up most of the frame of the picture was a woman
bending over in Creepy's hotel bathroom with Creepy's toothbrush sticking
out from deep in her ass.
Bristle side in.
Thaloneous Platypus
Guam, March 30, 1993
{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}{0}{1}
1) Take your Video camera (take someone elses if you don't have one)
2) Enter your toilet room
3) From the other side of the room to the toilet, stand on a chair and video
a shot from near the ceiling of your toilet seat (about 5 mins should do)
4) Have a party !!
5) When someone leaves the room to visit the lav. put the cassette in your
vid player.
6) Just before the person re-enters the room start playing the tape - with
everyone in the room laughing at the TV screen.
7) WATCH THE FACE OF THE PERSON RE-ENTERING THE ROOM !! :-)
===================================================================================
>From an Interview with Paul Krassner
in ReSearch: Pranks...
AJ: One of the most outragous pranks in the Realist was
that article about Lyndon B. Jobnson fucking the wound in
JFK's head as he lay in state in the airplane.
PX: Yes-that was in 1967. That was my favorite rumor I
published in 16 years, partly because it blew so many minds.
I still get reacrions now-I8 years later. It's the thing that
people remember best. That had the most impact on people.
AJ: Please describe-
PK: I have to describe the context. It only worked because
it grew organically out of the situation. William Manchester
had written a book, Death of a President, about the assassi-
nation of John F Kennedy. Jackie Kennedy tried to have
certain parts of it suppressed and nobody knew what. I tried
to obtain those parts so I could publish them, and when I
couldn't, I decided to "publish" them anyway
The way it was written was: the article started out with
statements that were totally true, and then, like peeling an
onion layer by layer, got to the rumor stage and from there
to "facts that reporters knew were true but could never have
reported" (iust because there was so much reverence for the
office). So the article built dramatically and psychologically
to this scene where Jackie Kennedy was on Air Force One
bringing her husband's body back to Washington from
Bethesda, Maryland. Jackie Kennedy had actually told Gorf
Vidal that she saw Lyndon Johnson leaning over the casket
laughing.
AJ: That was in print?
PK: That was in print in London but not in the States. So
taking that as a premise, I extrapolated that he was actually
having intercourse with the throat wound (but this was not
to be mistaken for just casual necrophilia, this was functional
necrophilia, the purpose of which was to enlarge the entry
wound from the grassy knoll in order to make it look like an
exit wound from the book depository, to fool the Warren
Commission into believing that Lee Harvey Oswald was
solely responsible for the assassination).
A lot of people believed this to be true-ACLU lawyers,
Dick Gregory, Daniel Ellsberg (who told me, "I believed it
because I wanted to believe it"). A lot of people were embar-
rassed to have believed it, and I had to reassure them that
they were in very good company.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Don't Pull Any Pranks on These Bears
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The black bear used to be one of the most commonly seen large animals
because in Yosemite and Sequoia national parks they lived off of garbage
and tourist handouts. This bear has learned to open car doors in
Yosemite, where damage to automobiles caused by bears runs into the tens
of thousands of dollars a year. Campaigns to bearproof all garbage
containers in wild areas have been difficult, because as one biologist
put it, "There is a considerable overlap between the intelligence levels
of the smartest bears and the dumbest tourists."
bostic@vangogh.CS.Berkeley.EDU (Keith Bostic)
******************************************************************************
ROBERT BROWNING 1812-1889
This trade of mine--I don't know, can't be sure
But there was something in it, tricks and all!
Really, I want to light up my own mind.
l.809
~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`
This Has Got To Be A Prank:
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
>> QUAYLE ACCEPTS THINK-TANK POSITION
>>
>> Former Vice President Dan Quayle will study legal reform, productivity, and
>> government bureaucracy at a conservative think tank. Quayle, who was elected
>> to the Hudson Institute's board of trustees in February, will also serve as
>
>Wow, Dan Quayle in a conservative think tank! Is that a double
>oxymoron or an oxymoron squared? Perhaps the oxy's cancel each
>other out and we're just left with a moron.
>
>Sunil Gupta
>Monsoon Software, Inc.
>sg@monsoon.com
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
When I was working for a large New York corporation,
I had to deal with a bank, every day. I realized, after a
period of time, that the people who were working at the
bank had lost their identities, and were nothing more than
machines themselves. Well, this sort of psychological sur-
realistic science fiction really got me interested. I viewed
myself as a saver of identities, as the Messiah of the Spirit
of Individualism. I was brought to earth quickly. These
people didn't want to be saved. I was going to turn them
all on to acid, but then I decided that a better tactic would
be to screw up the object of their emiilation, the computer.
On my daily deposit I placed a large quantity of Scotch
tape. This resulted in the deposit slips, themselves, getting
stuck in the bowels of the computer. It took the bank
three or four hours to take the machine apart, and unjam
the mechanism. In unjamming the machine they somehow
altered the program, and it didn't work right for weeks. I
never had the guts to return to the bank, but I hope the
clerks lost their reverence for the divine, infalable machine.
THE ANARCHIST COOKBOOK
William Powell
{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]{}[]
I know of a variation of the fake workmen digging the street
that worked well. In the original (very risky) you
masquerade as real workmen and dig a hole in the street
and leave. When this was first done in NY in the fifties
it was days before anybody realized something was wrong and
traffic was a disaster until the street department patched
the hole. In the variation, the jokers observed real workmen
digging the street and reported to the police that college
students were again digging up the street as a joke. The
police thanked the tipster and headed for the dig. In the
meantime the jokers approached the workmen and told them that
the college had freshmen dressed up as cops as part of
fraternity initiation and that they would be around soon to
give the workmen a hard time. The workmen thought this was
great and agreed to give the "cops" a hard time back.
It was a long time before this mess was sorted out.
B.H. Duk
###############################################################################
Newsgroups: rec.radio.shortwave
Subject: if they mention flying saucers, they're out to get you
From: Derek Cooper <RCAA000@MAPLE.CC.KCL.AC.UK>
>From the London Times today (I did check that it's not April 1st!)-
`Officers in Warrington Cheshire fed up with people listening in
to their messages, broadcast that a flying saucer had crash-landed
in a field & gave details of where to find it.
Radio messages about a huge glowing spacecraft were broadcast
with the warning "Do not approach. It may be radioactive."
The warning was followed by directions to the field in Appleton.
The eavesdroppers arrived within minutes, expecting to see little
green men. They were arrested instead.
Police said that 5 people had been reported to the Crown
Prosecution Service for telecommunications offences. Scanning
devices that can pick up police radio messages are widely
available but using them to listen to police transmissions is
an offence.`
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
>From "American Anecdotes, Original and Select," Boston 1830:
Timothy Dexter, a native of Newburyport, Massachusetts, inquired of some
merchants, whom he knew, how he should dispose of a few hundred dollars.
Willing to hoax him, they answered, "Why, buy a cargo of warming-pans
and send them to the West Indies, to be sure." He bought all the
warming-pans he could find and sent them to a climate where there was
every reason to suppose that ice would be far more acceptable. The
warming-pans met with a rapid sale; the tops being used for strainers and
the lower part for dippers, in the manufacture of molasses.
With the proceeds of this profitable cargo he built a vessel; and being
informed by the carpenter that wales [i.e., boards] were wanting, he
called on an acquaintance and said, "My head workman sends me word that
he wants wales for the vessel. What does he mean?" "Why, whale bones,
to be sure," answered the man, who, like everybody else, was willing to
impose on his stupidity.
Whale bones were accordingly bought; but finding Boston could not furnish
enough, he emptied New York and Philadelphia as well. The ship
carpenters, of course, had a hearty laugh at his expense; but, by a
singular turn of fortune, this blunder also was the means of increasing
his wealth. It soon after became fashionable for ladies to wear stays
completely lined with whalebone; and as none was to be found in the
country, it brought an immense price.
Thus his coffers were filled a second time by his odd speculations.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%$$$$%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
But Where Was The Honeymoon ?
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The local media had been alerted and a couple of local TV crews showed up.
The television crew and a small contingent of well dressed people boarded
the bus without even a reaction from the driver and little but an
occasional glance from the other passengers. Having made the turn on to
Charles Street and beginning the long morning commute to downtown
Baltimore, a man in religious garb stood up in the back of the bus and
began to speak in a booming tone:
Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here in this bus to bring
together...
For this year's practical joke, my co-conspirator and girlfriend Kara and
I decided to see what would happen if a completely unnannounced wedding
spontaneously took place on a bus right in the middle of morning rush hour.
Most of the back of the bus was taken up by members of the
wedding party. The groom's party sat on one side of the bus, decked out in
white tuxedo shirts and black jackets. The bride's party sat on the other
side of the bus, decked out in long flowing dresses. The back half of the
bus was in on the joke with the exception of a group of commuters, a
semi-concious homeless man, and the television crew.
With lights blazing down, one of the members of the wedding party,
toting a cheesy Casio keyboard, played the opening notes of the Wedding
March. An Assistant Professor from Johns Hopkins, garbed all in black and
a long robe and looking very much the cleric, began to recite the opening
prayers.
Vows were exchanged, the couple kisses, and a cake appears out of nowhere.
Rice is thrown. The TV crew got all of it.
Reaction was varied. Numerous usually bored commuters, inside the bus and
in cars passing by, turned to see what the light and music was about. The
bride's mother cried non-stop. The homeless guy apparently sleeped
through it. The driver was at first very angry but, seeing the priest,
calmed down and called on his CB to tell a fellow driver. And most
importantly, the TV crew got all of it.
The reporter, asked the young couple questions, how did you meet, how long
have you been planning us, what did your parents think, etc. The bus
driver was interviewed as were some of the bystanders.
That evening, the local news carried the story, explaining about the young
couple who met while commuting to work each day and decided to get married
where they met.
The next day I called to announce that we had gotten a divorce due to
irreconcilable differences.
drey@supercalafragalisticexpialadocious.com
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
We Need A Machine To Pull Pranks....
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
... in three to eight years we will have a machine with the general
intelligence of an average human being ... The machine will begin
to educate itself with fantastic speed. In a few months it will be
at genius level and a few months after that its powers will be
incalculable ...
-- Marvin Minsky, LIFE Magazine, November 20, 1970
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Years ago when I still lived (and went on my bike to work) in Bucharest,
Romania, I was often sprayed with mud by car and bus drivers who felt a
sadic pleasure by doing this. I used to note the license plates of the
culprits and in four instances I spotted those cars parked on streets
not too far from my home. I provided to their owners several mornings
of hard work to remove newspapers stuck on their windshields with a very
good glue. In one instance I filled the exhaust pipe with wet cement...
In all cases I left a note with "thanks for the shower".
***************************************************************************
Hugh Troy was a famed artist who was also a hardcore
practical joker. Once, the manager of a motion-picture
theater offended Troy. Troy went into the same theater the
next evening, after secreting several jars of huge moths on
his person. Soon after the feature began, he released the
creatures, all of which flew directly into the beam of the
projector and stayed and stayed and stayed... '
GETTING EVEN
The Complete Book Of Dirty Tricks
George Hayduke
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
In article <1nahvhINNe9k@senator-bedfellow.MIT.EDU>
wdstarr@athena.mit.edu (William December Starr) wrote in part:
=> We first examine the first branch of the easement criteria, the open,
=> visible, and adverse requirements for a prescriptive easement. We have
=> no trouble concluding that the County's use of the glide paths was open
=> and visible. Aircraft regularly passing overhead during their landings
=> and takeoffs are hard to miss. And defendants have offered no evidence
=> that any Stealth fighters operated on runway 11/29 or that any of the
=> aircraft used the infamous Romulan cloaking device.
=>
=> -- _County of Westchester v. Town of Greenwich, Conn., et al_,
=> 793 F. Supp. 1195, 1207-8 (S.D.N.Y.) 1992. Opinion by U.S.
=> District Judge Gerard L. Goettel.
&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%
My sister was the butt on this one.... She had a box turtle who
lived in a terrarium in her room. I haunted pet shops and bought a
series of turtles, as identical as possible, but getting smaller and
smaller. She was quite concerned....
After a while, I got tired of the game, so I reversed the process till
she had the original (who was bigger by now) back, and took the rest
down to the woods and let them loose.
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
HOMER 8thcent.b.c.
Tell me, Muse, of the man of many tricks, who wandered far and wide after
he had sacked Troy's sacred city, and saw the towns of many men and knew
their mind.
Odyssey, i.1. Of Odysseus
.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.
I just pulled one on somebody -- I slipped some of those anti-
shoplifting strips into the lining of the victim's favorite
jacket. I was set to pull another one, but didn't get the chance
- to cut out a silhouette of a gun from metal and hide it in a
piece of carry-on luggage.
WMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM
T H E D U K R E P O R T
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
by: B. Hathrume Duk
The story of a few bored men and their pet fish.
Remembering Perry Roosevelt-Taylor
by B. Hathrume Duk
It is with great sadness that I have to report the passing of the late
Perry Roosevelt-Taylor. Perry was a staple of the Baltimore scene, a
prankster in his own right with a devilish grin. Perry shared a small
fourth story walk up with Deke and myself and will be sorely missed by all.
Chief among Perry's activities in life were swimming, his long interest in
aquatic life, and his continuous correspondence with some of the fringe
elements of Society. I am not sure what spurred on Perry's interests in
these groups, although I did spy a copy of High Weirdness by Mail near his
corner of the apartment on more than one occasion.
Owing to his physical inabilities, Deke, my flatmate, and I would often go
to the little post box that Perry had rented out to check for mail for
him. His correspondents ranged from an order of sex-fearing nuns (who sent
him a fine little metal cross) to bible-beating born again preachers
striving against Communism to some of the more outrageous racist
organizations (who sent him all sorts of white power propaganda).
Perry would respond to everything that came across his path, offering
token bits of information to spur on his correspondents. To the
sex-fearing sisterhood he claimed to be a woman, Perry being a sexually
ambiguous name. He mentioned some fictional woes involving incest and
being beaten by non-existent husband and unloved by a previously unknown
son. The nuns immediately wrote back with words of wisdom on how all sins
are derived from the sex act.
To the bible-beating Commie-hunters, Perry mentioned that he was getting
up in years, had lived a long and full life. He wrote that he had enjoyed
being the CEO of a small corporation, was in the twilight of his life, and
was going about the process of deciding how he wanted his fortunes divided
after his death. Perry also mentioned that he believed in the power of
America ('look what it did for me') and that the Commies were still the
biggest threat to our way of life, despite what the liberal press stated.
Needless to say the letters and leaflets flooded in offering to start a
new campaign against the Manifesto toting atheists in Perry's name and to
name him as Honorary Executive Vice President of Fund Raising.
As for the racist nitwits, who Perry seemed to get a special thrill out of
bilking out of their stamp money, Perry claimed to be a retired Colnel in
the Army who was looking for fellow crusaders for the Truth! The response
seemed to range from the almost subtle to the purely disgusting and
pathetic. Perry seemed to eat it all up.
Sadly, Perry passed away one weekend while Deke and myself were out of
town. We came back to the apartment to see that he was lying there cold
and very very still. We were, of course, taken aback by this and pondered
what to do. I wasn't that surprised by his death, Perry having been ill
for most of the time that I knew him.
Eventually we decided to let Perry's spirit free and took the shell of his
body up to the roof above our fourth story apartment. We left the cross on
him that the sex-fearing nuns had sent to him. I never bothered to go up
on the roof after that, not wanting to see Perry's carcass ravaged by
Baltimore's swarm of seagulls.
Perry Roosevelt-Taylor, correspondent to cranks and crackpots alike,
friend, and our pet piranha, died on September 13, 1991.
Perry was a good fish, usually in good spirit, and seldom complained. He
didn't mind when we rented a post box in his name and I know he
appreciated the kind words, posters, and trinkets that were sent to him
during his brief yet wordy existence.
On behalf of Perry, thanks to everyone who took the time and effort to
write to our fish.
BHduk
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Date: Fri, 26 Feb 1993 14:42:03 GMT
From: sorenj@rpi.edu (Jeffrey S. Sorensen)
Subject: Smells like Green Spirit...
Reply-To: sorensen@spl.ecse.rpi.edu
In the Jan/Feb issue of _Health_ magazine p. 53:
Talk About Paying Through the Nose
Bill-collection agencies in England began lacing their invoices with a
product containing androstenone, a chemical secreted from men's armpits and
groins that is known to be a sex attractant in some species. In one
preliminary study, mailed invoices treated with the product resulted in a
14 percent higher payment rate than untreated bills.
and from the Art of User Interface design:
The Less Care She Got, The Less She Cared
A patient in Manchester Royal Infirmary in England was found unconscious
after she mixed up the nurse's call button with the one to give herself more
painkiller and pressed the latter button impatiently for several minutes.
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC
I'm glad you asked. I'm a special fan of pranks, and have participated in
a few, and collected news accounts of several. Two recent ones spring to
mind. In one, somebody called presidential candidate Jerry Brown's 1-800
number and remotely changed the message to one which explained to future
callers that Brown had decided to become an outspoken proponent of white
pride. In another recent one, compact disks by the punk rock group Dead
Kennedys were packaged as religious CDs and sent to religious radio stations.
Some that I have participated in... If you look at the most recent
copy of High Times magazine (a magazine for drug enthusiasts), you will
notice, on page 24, that the magazine has expressed outrage over a "Partner-
ship for a Drug Free America Public Relations Release" that reads, in part,
"Acid users don't know whether it will be this dose, or the
next dose, or some dose further down the line, but every
long-term LSD user finds that one dose that will actually
make his or her brain explode, cracking his or her skull and
causing a fatal 'trip.'"
Actually, I made this "Public Relations Release" on a laser printer in a
few minutes. I intended it to show how absurd most anti-drug propaganda
is. I'm not sure how High Times got ahold of a copy, but they bought it, hook
line and sinker. These days, if you have access to a laser printer, you can
impersonate God, IBM, and the Queen of England with great success.
Altering billboards is another great prank/sport. Near where I live, there
is a billboard that was taken over by the U.S. Marine Corps a few months
back. A pacifist friend of mine and I brainstormed to try to find a way to
alter it. The theme of the ad was "power" with a powerful wave crashing on
the beach, and the close-up face of a sharply-dressed marine, saluting and
looking grim. The ad copy read:
"FEW HAVE THE POWER
United States Marines"
During the brainstorm, we came up with the following alteration:
"Why do so FEW HAVE THE POWER?
United States Marines"
Unfortunately, the billboard was taken down within the next week, so it
didn't reach as much of an audience as we might have hoped.
This reminds me of another good billboard prank, that I had nothing to do
with. In Petaluma, California, shortly after the Rodney King beating, a
California Highway Patrol billboard designed to encourage motorcycle drivers
to wear helmets (a new law insisted that they do so), read:
"Don't forget your
thinking cap!
It's 1992, wear a helmet."
Next to a picture of a motorcycle helmet. A small alteration to the sign
made it read this way:
"Don't forget your
RODNEY king cap!
It's 1992, wear a helmet."
My own reaction to the verdicts was to print up an official-looking flier
that read:
"WARNING -- The Governor of the State of California has
declared a state of Civil Unrest. Law enforcement
authorities have been authorized to detain by force
any individual or individuals whom they suspect of
participating in civil unrest or of being under the
influence of, or in possession of, illegal narcotics.
"If detained, do /not/ resist or try to escape, or
further force will be used. If being beaten, do /not/
resist or try to escape as this will only prolong the
beating and subject you to further prosecution.
"The printing of this notice was funded in part by public
monies set aside for this purpose by the people of the
State of California in accordance with Proposition 115.
This notice was printed in the County of San Luis Obispo
and the warning is in effect in that county and other
counties in the State of California"
This flier hit the streets at about the same time as the riots in L.A. In
San Luis Obispo, things were much quieter, and although people took the
flier very seriously, they didn't seem too alarmed at the introduction of a
police state. My motive with the flier was to say that in California, the
law seems to say that if a police officer suspects that you are on drugs
s/he may beat you senseless, legally. After all, the reason they gave for
knocking Rodney King around was that they thought he was on PCP. When it
turned out that toxicology tests were negative for PCP, I thought -- what a
great excuse for kicking the shit out of anyone you want... just say you
thought they were on PCP, and whether they were or not, you have an excuse.
Alexander Supertramp
*****************************************************************************
Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called
fools.
AS YOU LIKE IT
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Does the person that you want to get even with drink red wine? If
so, have I got one for you! Get yourself some Neutral Red, a water
soluble, crystalline, red dye. Mix some into the persons wine and
wait for them to take a leak. (Nuetral Red comes out as red as it
goes in, and people have a tendancy to get really nervous when they
start pissing what they think is blood!
;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++;;;;++
Date: Sat, 13 Mar 1993 21:59:12 -0500
From: Peter Wayner <pcw@access>
Redwood City, CA (API) -- A tense stand-off entered its third week
today as authorities reported no progress in negotiations with
charismatic cult leader Steve Jobs.
Negotiators are uncertain of the situation inside the compound, but
some reports suggest that half of the hundreds of followers inside
have been terminated. Others claim to be staying of their own free
will, but Jobs' persuasive manner makes this hard to confirm.
In conversations with authorities, Jobs has given conflicting
information on how heavily prepared the group is for war with the
industry. At times, he has claimed to "have hardware which will blow
anything else away", while more recently he claims they have stopped
manufacturing their own.
Agents from the ATF (Apple-Taligent Forces) believe that the group is
equipped with serious hardware, including 486-caliber pieces and
possibly Canon equipment.
The siege has attracted a variety of spectators, from the curious to
other cultists. Some have offered to intercede in negotiations,
including a young man who will identify himself only as "Bill" and
claims to be the "MS-iah".
Former members of the cult, some only recently deprogrammed, speak
hesitantly of their former lives, including being forced to work
20-hour days, and subsisting on Jolt and Twinkies. There were
frequent lectures in which they were indoctrinated into a theory of
"interpersonal computing" which rejects traditional roles.
Late-night vigils on Chesapeake Drive are taking their toll on
federal marshals. Loud rock and roll, mostly Talking Heads, blares
throughout the night. Some fear that Jobs will fulfill his own
apocalyptic prophecies, a worry reinforced when the loudspeakers
carry Jobs' own speeches -- typically beginning with a chilling "I
want to welcome you to the 'Next World' ".
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^
How 'bout this: if the victim uses Head 'n Shoulders or Selsun
Blue shampoo, and a few drops of methylene blue (available in pet stores)
to a FULL bottle. Over time (if the victim is fair-haired), you will
notice their hair turning blue, as methylene blue stains all organic
material.
=======================================================================
Apparently there is a well-known story in the television industry about the
early days, when parts were scarce and 'friendly competition' was just be-
ginning between the networks. There was going to be an important speech by
someone important, probably President Eisenhower or someone of that stature.
Naturally, all (both?) of the networks wanted to cover this speech. But on
the day of the speech, the tube in NBC's camera went dead. There was no hope
to order a replacement in time, so the NBC brass called the CBS brass to ask
if they could borrow a tube until they could get a replacement (maybe they
borrowed a whole camera, I don't know). At any rate, the good-natured guys
at CBS said sure, they would deliver a tube to them in plenty of time for the
speech.
Well they DID loan NBC a tube, but not before setting it up in a camera and
focusing it on the brightly lit door to the men's room. To understand what
happened, you must realize that these early "image-orthicon" tubes were ex-
tremely sensitive. So sensitive in fact, that a bright unchanging image would
"burn-in" to the face of the tube and remain for hours, or even permanently
if the damage was severe enough. So to make a long story even longer, when
NBC brodcasted the speech, the president appeared with "MEN" emblazoned across
his forehead. Of course they discovered it much too late to do anything about
it (this was live TV, folks).
]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
We went to a wedding in NJ. At the wedding we asked a women in the
kitchen for a piece of cake (they happen to have some left over from
a different wedding). We knew the bride at the wedding. Once we got
the cake we walked around to a few of the tables eating the cake.
You should have seen the expressions on some of the people's faces.
They would ask "You cut the cake?"
We would response, "Yea, it's good you better get a piece
before it all goes!"
We went up to the bride and said, "Hey, great cake!"
Of course since she was expecting us to pull some stunt at her
wedding, she was on to us. The best part was all those people who had
no idea who we were. Fun and harmless.
dave...(schaller@hsi.com)
++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++--++
> On Tue, 16-Feb-1993, bostic@vangogh.CS.Berkeley.EDU (Keith Bostic) said:
>
> > COMPUTER CHEATS TAKE CADSOFT'S BAIT
> >
> > Employees of IBM, Philips, the German federal interior ministry and
> > the federal office for the protection of the constitution are among
> > those who unwittingly 'turned themselves in' when a German computer
> > software company resorted to an undercover strategy to find out who
> > was using illegal copies of one of its programs.
> >
> > Hundreds of customers accepted Cadsoft's offer of a free demonstration
> > program that, unknown to them, searched their computer hard disks for
> > illegal copies. Where the search was successful, a message appeared
> > on the monitor screen inviting the customer to print out and return a
> > voucher for a free handbook of the latest version of the program.
> > However, instead of a handbook the users received a letter from the
> > Bavarian-based software company's lawyers.
>>-->>-->>-->>->>-->>->>-->>->>-->>-<<--<<--<<--<<--<<--<<--<<--<<--<<
The Art Of Performance Theatre:
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I was fortunate enough to witness a public display of a somewhat odd fetish.
About a year ago, I met a man who called himself Pieface Brown. He was a
small, slim, totally hairless man in his early 30s. Evidently, he suffered
from the disease that causes one to lose ALLL of one's body hair, but I
digress.
I was working in a bar in S.F., when in walked this strange man. He was
wearing a shirt that said "Pie-sexual" on it. When I asked him what the shirt
meant, he proceded to tell me that he liked to go to partys and have women
smash pies in his face and on his bald head. He gave me a card with a bald man
on it about to be hit by a pie, a small piece of paper with a poem about pies
on it, and a clipping from one of the local papers that told all about how
Pieface Brown loved to be hit by pies.
Not one to pass up such a golden oportunity, I quickly invited Pieface to come
to a brunch I was having at my house that weekend. In the middle of the party
in walked Pieface. I had told no one at the party about his little act. He
proceeded to put a tarp down in the corner of the room. A hush fell over the
crowd. Pieface brought out a big duffle bag, filled with 6 cream pies. He
then had various women at the party smash the pies on his face and head, all
the while shivering with some sort of ectasy. When he was done, with the pies
still slipping off his bald dome, he recited a brief poem, and then gathered up
his things and left.
Glen Kretmar
gkretmar@us.oracle.com
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
(I'm surprised nobody mentioned this one yet.) Go to a pet shop and
buy a fancy looking pet collar and leash. Then, the next time you
see a dead animal in the road, attach the leash and collar setup
to its neck. Attach the whole thing to revengees rear bumper, making
sure to toss dead animal under the car so it won't be seen. When
revengee drives away, chances are he/she will be stopped by either a cop
or a member of some animal lovers group for draggin some poor defenseless
pet down the road. Either way, they are gonna have some awful quick
explaining to do!
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
FYAmusement--this is an actual letter that we recieved in "application"
for the Director's position at the Library. We have recieved (almost)
the identical letter for *years* for any position the library
advertises...
---=======================---
Sir,
I am applying for the Medical Library Directorship with a classical
theory of Alexander the God. I hold four degrees and a French
certificate. I have won 18 grants, including a Rockefeller and tow
Fords to the University of Georgia Press.
I have written 45 novels. I was editor of THE CLAFLIN REVIEW. I have
33 years of experience, including post at the Georgia Institute of
Technology, Georgia State University, Florida State University, and
Louisiana State University.
Faithfully yours,
<signature literally takes up 1/3 of the page>
George Ross, Rioodge, Ph.D., M.L.S.
690 Green Street, Orangeburg, S.C. 29115
---==========================---
what makes this letter amazing in hardcopy (it doesn't transfer nearly
so well to e-mail) i that it is badly typed on a lousy typewriter with
handwritten characters over-lapping certain letters. this is (by far)
the most coherant letter we've ever recieved from this man. his degrees
change for each position.
Alekz Vermont <alekz@welchgate.welch.jhu.edu> (Cyberpunk Mac chick)
***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^***^^
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I designed and wrote a point-of-sale system which was first installed in
1976, after which I left the company. At midnight, December 31, 1977 every
system in the country stopped whatever it was doing, flashed every light and
sounded every beeper on every cash register, printed "Happy New Year" on
every printer, and went back to whatever it was doing. I wonder how that
happened?
L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L
L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L
L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L L
My favorite political campaign trick occured during the 1990 race for
the California governor's seat. The Republican was Senator Pete Wilson
(who eventually won by a fairly slim margin) and the Democrat was
Dianne Feinstein (now holding the seat vacated by Wilson).
Feinstein had been running television ads that made a big deal out of
Wilson's absenteeism in the U.S. Senate -- curious behavior as any
political junkie knows because senators are practically *always* absent
due to the way business is conducted in the Senate. Nevertheless,
Feinstein continued to attempt to make an issue out of it, claiming
that Wilson's absenteeism was notable even for U.S. Senators. Everyone
watching the spectacle was boggled.
Finally, someone in the Wilson campaign cracked and took Feinstein's
bait. They began running ads that lauded Wilson's dedication by
playing up a story about how he had interrupted his hospital stay (he
had had a tumor removed or something) to vote on a crucial issue in the
Senate.
Feinstein let those ads run for about forty-eight hours before biting
Wilson's head off. It was truly beautiful. (It's a heartbreak she
still lost -- it was a wonderful prank.) Labor Day weekend began with
Feinstein running ads in every market Wilson's ads were running that
bashed the Senator for being a toady of the Republican elite.
Feinstein's ads contained an audio quote of Senate Minority Leader Bob
Dole joking about how Wilson was the most loyal Republican in the
Senate, and cited his interrupted hospital stay. ``They wheeled him in
under sedation. We told him how to vote. He voted, and they wheeled
him back out.''
You could almost hear Dianne in her campaign headquaters on Van Ness
Ave sneering through an evil grin, ``Sucker.''
--James Woodyatt `ouch, that had to hurt...'
++++++++++++++++++++==============================+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
While I was in the Army one of my NCO's deserved special attention.
He was one of those that was climbing to the top over the bodies of
his subordinates... and always wanted you to do something to make him
look good. A real dastard.
A friend called the phone company customer office
and told them "Hi, I want to change the special calling features on my
phone". They asked him what's your phone #? He said the phone# of our
Sgt Burl. They said "Dannyi Burl, Yes, how can we help you?". Unlike
computer accounts, customer service representives don't require a password...
He told them he wanted everything added, and oh, by the way, I have a new
mailing address. He gave them a fictitious box number in a zip code
miles away from his normal mail delivery (That way, the PO wouldn't have
him as a normal customer and deliver it to the regular address) and the
deed was done. When Sgt Burl (who's name, by the way has been changed to
protect the guilty) got his phone service cut off (he hadn't been receiving
his bills) he not only got the cost of restoring his service, but the
accumulation of all the long-distance calls he'd made plus the new services
his phone now had (AND the installation charges). Since he was military,
he was required to have a phone and had no choice but to pay the bill...
Moral: Little people, much like bear traps, are not good to step on.
XXXX
())()()()()()(()()()()()()))()()((((())()()((((())()()()()()()()((((())()()))
Another person I know told me he once ordered some phony business stationary,
and used it to place an order for a 70,000 pound steel coil to be delivered
to this person's (a high school teacher) address. The coil showed up
and got dumped on the front lawn.
==================================================================================
This reminds me of something a friend of mine did to get
even with a landlord that evicted him. There was a hole
in one of his walls so he put a couple of dead fish in
in the hole. He then plastered over the hole and repainted
the wall. Can you imagine the smell after a month of summer
heat? Nobody could tell where the odor would be coming from
until the bottom of the wall would start to rot. He did some
other things to the house but this was by far the most
subtle and undetectable until some time later.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
I read about this in the Globe & Mail, Canada's National Newspaper.
The lead actor in Macbeth had fired a performer during a run at the
Stratford Festival one afternoon. The extra's last performance, then,
was that evening.
For those of you unfamiliar with Macbeth, it is the Bard's tale of a man
filled with ambition that sacrifices everything in order to achieve his
greedy dreams. When he finds out his wife is dead, he launches into a
very dramatic monologue.
When Macbeth asks, however, as to the status of his wife, instead of
hearing of her untimely demise, the extra said,
"She is doing very much better, my lord."
--And walked off the stage, leaving Macbeth alone, front and centre, in
front of a sold out house.
Leslie Rosenblood lrrosenblood@descartes.uwaterloo.ca
"If you can't trust us with a choice, how can you trust us with a child?"
"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
New Xerox copier wreaks havoc
by Pete Repeat
Xerox officials held an emergency press conference Thursday to announce
a total recall of all Reprotron 5000 Three-Dimensional Copy Machines.
Xerox stock has plummeted to a new all-time low since the release of the
innovative device. Xerox hailed the Reprotron 5000 as a "new revolution
in copying" when it introduced the machine just two weeks ago, and market
insiders were certain that the copier would send Xerox stock through the roof.
At a demonstration of the Reprotron in August, Xerox staffers made full
three-dimensional copies of an Oriental vase, a bowl of fruit, and a perfect
red rose. Reporters were invited to sample apples and oranges copied from
the original fruit, though Xerox technicians did warn that the copied fruit
might taste slightly of toner. John Thompson (inventor of the Reprotron)
stepped forward to make a copy of a Manhattan phone book, but accidentally
copied his hand and forearm. He quickly disposed of the highly detailed,
frantically wiggling half-limb as it slid out of the copier's delivery slot.
But Xerox wasn't ready for what happened next. "We assumed that people
would behave as responsible, thinking human beings with this copier, and
obviously we were wrong," Thompson states. From all across the USA, reports
have been filing in of the copier being used in what Thompson calls "sick,
greedy ways."
At a Copy Center in Austin, Texas, a couple was arrested for making 15
copies of their three-year-old son, Jeremy, and then refusing to pay for
the copies, claiming that some of the new children were "smudged." Local
authorities were uncertain as to which charges should be pressed.
In Union City, Arizona, Treasury Department officials are investigating
reports of a secretary who allegedly copied a single bar of gold bullion
150 times. A task force investigator stated, "Granted, it takes money to
make money, but we're almost certain that this action is in violation of
some laws."
Xerox officials are also under fire from consumers, due to rumors that
the three-dimensional copying technology is imperfect. Harold Butz of Peoria,
Pennsylvania, made a copy of a common cement brick spray-painted gold. Butz
claims he was "shocked and dismayed" when he discovered that the machine-made
copy was 22-karat solid gold. "All I wanted was a really good copy of a
cement brick spray-painted gold'" Butz stated. "What the hell am I going
to do with this thing?"
Xerox plans to scrap all the machines they are able to recall, but Thompson
expressed concern over the so-called "black market Reprotrons."
"Apparently some sick and greedy people discovered that if they had two
machines, they could use one to make a working copy of the other," Thompson
revealed. "To tell the truth, we only sold two machines in all - to the
Cappelli family, a New Jersey based Meat packing firm. These copy pirates
should be aware that as with anything that is copied from a copy and so on,
there are bound to be defects in the copies produced. We have no idea what
kind of stuff will pop out of the slot when a person copies something on
a fourth- or fifth-generation machine." Thompson declined to comment on
reports that hundreds of the pirated machines have a human thumb attached
to the coin slot which constantly wiggles - the result of a person's thumb
getting in the way during one of the original copier-to-copier copies.
"Ultimately, we're not too worried," Thompson stated. "People owning
the copiers will eventually run out of the fluid that make the machine work,
and we've taken all the fluid off the market. A machine can only last two
weeks or so without a fluid refill, and there won't be any fluid refills."
When asked why people with copiers couldn't simply make copies of the fluid
cannisters they already have, Xerox officials hastily ended the press
conference, stating that they "need to reconsider a few things."
***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@
One of my favorites is to put a couple of ping pong
balls in someones gas tank. The car will start just
fine and will run for a couple of blocks. Then the
balls will get sucked into the gas feed and cause
the car to die. The balls will now float back to the
top of the tank and he will be able to restart the car.
This will be very frustrating to the car owner, especially
if he works on his own car. First he will replace the
fuel filter then maybe the fuel pump. From there on out
he will be pulling his hair out to figure out what to do
next.
{}{}{}{}{][][][|}[]{]{[{]][{{}]{[[}]{[}]{|\][]|}{{}]][]]{{]]{[}}{{{{}[][[
Make a small, off-center hole in a can of shaving
cream and then heave the can into the victims open door.
As the pressure spews the cream out, it will spin the can
and create a real mess all over the place.
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
Here's a prank that never fails to tickle me (though I was neither the
perpetrator nor the recipient.)
Owner/operator of a modest italian restaurant in the Marina District of San
Franciso finally sets up a long-needed vacation. In his absence, he elects to
close the restaurant and enlists the aid of his friends to keep an eye on it
while he's out of town.
San Francisco is noted for its restaurants (there are literally thousands of
them) and a fair percentage of those serve Oriental cuisine.
When the owner returned to San Francisco, his friends had strung paper chinese
lanterns throughout the place and there was a large "Application to Serve
Liquor" posted in the front window.
Kath
lawder@ohsu.edu
}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
HERBERT SPENCER1820-1903
The ultimate result of shielding men from the effects of folly, is to fill
the world with fools.
p.354. State Tamperings with Money and Banks
{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{
I have never tried this, but a chemist friend of mine told me of a
practical joke. Get a hold of the victims coffee cup. Make sure its
empty. Put one drop of phenolthalien ( excuse the spelling, I'm refering
to the acid/base indicator) in the cup and fill it with water. Empty the
cup and let it dry. When the victim fills it, their is still residue of
the phenolthalien in the cup. The effect!, the victim will not be able
to make it to the bathroom in time.
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
JONATHAN SWIFT 1667-1745
Hated by fools, and fools to hate,
Be that my motto and my fate.
l.171
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
From: Peter S. Langston <pud!psl@bellcore.bellcore.com>
> Hate to bring up this sore subject again, after the way I was
> ridiculed, castigated, and excoriated last time I asked this question
> (remember the grooves in a record?), but some of you scientist types
> tell me: does the following statement (more or less quoted from a
> Mercury News item yesterday) not contain a physical impossibility?:
>
> Within a fraction of a second of the Big Bang the universe was [x]
> light years across.
>
> I mean, a light year is the distance light travels in a year, isn't
> it? So how could anything, let alone the whole universe, expand
> faster than light?
>
> Or am I missing something basic here, again?
No, Dave, you're not crazy at all, although you do have a piece of
pastrami hanging off your beard. (This is normal for men in your age
bracket.)
What you have to remember is that the universe of the first few
microseconds after the Big Bang was as different from the world we know
as the last Republican National Convention. Very simply, the basic
fabric of the universe -- rayon -- did not exist!
During the first few seconds after the creation of the universe, the
normal laws of physics did not obtain. (By "obtain," we mean "hold,"
but "obtain" has more letters.) In the superdense, infinitely small
universe, there were no subatomic particles, such as protons, gluons,
tetons, sprayons, and the like. In fact, the very laws of nature such
as Newton's laws of motion, Boyle's Law, and the Right-On-Red rule did
not exist either, because sufficient time had not passed for the
universe to cool to the point that particles could group themselves to
form the scientists necessary to formulate these laws.
Consequently, in the first few seconds of the universe, anyone around
to do the viewing would have seen fish flying through acetone, water
flowing uphill, moss growing on rolling stones, and attractive golf
clothes. Plus, one could have witnessed light travelling faster than
the speed of light -- because there was no light back then, and, in
fact, no such thing as "speed," "distance," "velocity," "ATMs,"
"Nintendo," or "MTV." The universe consisted entirely of a barren
wasteland of Pet Rocks and AMC Pacers.
So, it is possible for the universe to have expanded at a rate that is
conceptually impossible today for anyone but Jose Canseco. This
phenomenon, known to physicists as Bluggner's Effect, does not occur in
nature (that is to say, on "Mutual of Omaha's 'Wild Kingdom'") but we
see traces of its existence in the rings patterns of certain species of
coral. Either that, or my dive instructor owes me $65.
--Mateo
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A Mexican newspaper reports that bored Royal Air Force pilots stationed
on the Falkland Islands have devised what they consider a marvelous new
game. Noting that the local penguins are fascinated by airplanes, the
pilots search out a beach where the birds are gathered and fly slowly
along it at the water edge. Perhaps ten thousand penguins turn their
heads in unison watching the planes go by, and when the pilots turn around
and fly back, the birds turn their heads in the opposite direction, like
spectators at a slow-motion tennis match. Then, the paper reports "The
pilots fly out to sea and directly to the penguin colony and overfly it.
Heads go up, up, up, and ten thousand peng
uins fall over gently onto their
backs.
-Audobon Magazine
-------
PILOT HARASSMENT
An Argentine newspaper reports that bored penguins living on the Falkland
Islands have devised what they consider a marvelous new game. Noting that
the local Royal Air Force pilots are fascinated by penguins, the birds
congregate on a beach where the pilots fly over, and turn their heads
slowly in unison while standing at the water's edge. Perhaps ten thousand
pilots fly by, and when the penguins turn their heads in the opposite
direction the airplanes all fly back, like remote control toys. Then,
the paper reports "The penguins look directly out to sea, where the planes
follow their gaze. Heads and planes go up, up, up, and ten thousand
airplanes run out of fuel and fall splashing into the ocean."
-Pilot Magazine
}}}=={{{___}}}=={{{___}}}=={{{___}}}=={{{___}}}=={{{___}}}=={{{___}}}
Abbie Hoffman had figured out that it would take 1200 people to encircle
the Pentagon."Everybody knows a five sided figure is evil..."
A.H.went before a General Services Administrator (whatever that is) and asked
officials for a permit to levitate the Pentagon 300ft off the ground, explaining
that by chanting ancient Aramaic exorcism rites, while standing in a circle
around the building, they could get it to rise into the air, turn orange, and
vibrate until all evil emissions had fled.
============================================================================
Last, but certainly not least, is a great stink bomb. This one takes
a bit of time for preparation, so it's not too good for spontaneous
revenge. (But it's worth the time!) Get a quart jar with a rubber seal.
(Mason jars work quite well.) Pour about 1/4 to 1/2 inch of crystal Drano
along with about an inch or so of warm water into the jar. Place the
lid on the jar and allow the mixture to sit in a warm place for about an
hour. Take the lid off and add six egg whites, (no yokes). Add a quarter
cup of Methylene Blue, then fill the jar to within an inch of the top
with water. Seal the jar tightly and allow to sit for four to six weeks.
(I warned you it takes a while!) When the 'bomb' is ready to use, you
can either throw it like a molitov(sp?) cocktail, or shake it up and
pour the contents out, making damn sure you don't get any on yourself.
The results have to be seen, or is that smelled, to be beleived!
***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@***@@
THAT's All Folks...talk to you from odd places along the road...
Thanks To:
bostic@vangogh.CS.Berkeley.EDU (Keith Bostic)
THE ULTIMATE LIST OF PRACTICAL JOKES
maggie@may.com
kenney@hsi.com
LBSPODIC@usthk.ust.hk
schaller@hsi.com
jesse@netcom.com
Sheila
Another good one that I've heard about is to put
cherry Kool-aid in the shower head.
I'll publish, right or wrong:
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
LORD BYRON
