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y0lk-066
--(y0lk)-----------------------------------------------------------------------
y0lk #66: how y0lk saved my life (sorta)
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i was just flying into los angeles for a meeting with the press
concerning y0lk; of course, they had flown me first class. the movie was "get
shorty" with john travolta. i give it two thumbs up... but i digress; after a
four hour flight, i was really tired. luckily, they had set excellent travel
plans for me. when i disembarked from the plane, i was greeted by a man in an
expensive-looking suit, holding a sign with my name on it: "creed."
i immediately gave the suited man one of my great thousand-dollar
smiles, and approached him. "hi," i said.
"hello, mister creed."
"uh, you can call me dave. so where are we going today? which
five-star hotel do you have me booked at this time?"
"you'll see," he said, somewhat mysteriously. i felt like i was in a
really strange james bond movie scene. with that, he turned his back and
began walking toward the terminal exit. still a bit confused and bedazzled, i
paused for a moment, and then hurriedly started to follow him.
within a few minutes, we were inside the private limos-only parking
garage. "nice place," i joked. the driver was silent and without emotion.
after an uncomfortable walk across the garage, we arrived at the car. the man
opened the door, i entered, and he slammed it quickly and got in on his side.
i heard the doors lock immediately. "what a weirdo," i mumbled to myself.
after about five minutes of complete silence in the car, i decided it
would be a long drive and i needed to entertain myself. i opened my bag and
pulled out my walkman and gameboy. i popped motocross maniacs into the gameboy
and my concept dumb demos into the walkman, and kicked back. fun, fun, fun.
after about forty games of tennis, all of which i won, i noticed we
were approaching what seemed to be my destination. it seemed like more of a
run-down toolshed than a five star hotel. "i'll live." the limo driver
pressed a button on his dashboard and a garage door opened in a building to the
side. we drove in. it was a completely empty garage, with nine or ten men
standing inside. most were in black-tie like my escort, but one was a more fat
man in a casual-looking grey suit. "oh," i thought, "that must be the don."
the driver opened the door and yanked me out of the limo. i was
completely shocked at this point; i just stood there drooling on myself. "so,"
the fat man smiled, "we meet at last, mister creed. you look taller in
person."
"uhm. ok. you can call me dave." the james bond movie continued.
"yes, i see. allow me to introduce myself."
"IT'S YOU, DEMONSEED, ISN'T IT?! I KNEW YOU WERE AFTER ME."
"excuse me? demonseed? i'm not familiar..."
"uh... nothing. sorry." oops, that was embarassing.
"i see. well, my name is marco gionovicci. you zine-types may know me
as trip."
"TRIP?! i didn't know you were italian!"
"yes, many people fail to recognize that. but let's get down to
business, mister creed. you used me as a character in a recent play that you
released in y0lk."
"yeah, uh, i thought you would like that. hehe, you were always joking
about me in your stories and i--"
"you had me blow up a 7-11 in that little story of yours," he barked,
"you depicted me as a terrorist. do you see me as a terrorist, mister creed?"
"well, uh, no," i babbled. "it's just that--"
"I AM NOT A TERRORIST, MISTER CREED. MY ORGANIZATION IS NOT ABOUT
TERRORISM."
"uhh, i'm real sorry... i didn't mean anything by it."
"yes, well hopefully you will learn your lesson. we'll let you off a
little easy this time, mister creed; but you have been warned."
before i could reply, a man came up from behind me and hit me with
something. i blacked out. when i woke up, i was half-naked, lying in a pretty
scary-looking neighborhood. as soon as i stood up, a circle of large black men
formed around me. "uh-oh." i paused. "uhm, who are you guys?"
"yo, we'z tha crips. who tha hell are you, white man? you on our
turf."
"uh, i'm dave... er, creed... err... hi."
the man just stood there for a few seconds; i think i startled him.
"creed? you mean you that niggah that writes y0lk?"
"uhh.... yeah, i guess. have you heard of it?"
"yo man, dat's phat! we'z big fans!!@# so, wuzzup, man?!"
well, as you can easily see, an enlightening conversation followed.
after we had bonded and i had issued each of them an autographed 8" by 10"
glossy photograph of mine, they fed and clothed me, and sent me on my way to
the airport. i told them where i was going, and they handed me a first-class
ticket.
"hey, how did you get this?"
"we carded it, nig."
"uhm, where did you guys learn all that stuff?"
"#hack, yo. moft taught us."
saying nothing, i grabbed the ticket and flew home. it had been a long
day. when i arrived back at newark airport, i hailed a cab and drove home the
real way. man, it was a weird day. and all i have to show for it is my
gameboy-tennis high score and these weird clothes from da crips. oh well.
--(index)----------------------------------------------------------------------
.d&$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$&b.
$ ## $ title $ author $
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$ 01 $ the other white meat $ creed $
$ 02 $ several k-leet hax0rs sittin around a campfire and groovin $ creed $
$ 03 $ nuclear weapons, global destruction, op wars. $ creed $
$ 04 $ a young man, an infant, a yak... all living in sin $ creed $
$ 05 $ household uses for afghanistanian food $ creed $
$ 06 $ pour cement down my anus $ hooch $
$ 07 $ hail santa! $ creed $
$ 08 $ hasidism and sysops - a pair for the nineties? $ hooch $
$ 09 $ lunchables rock. $ creed $
$ 10 $ t-shirts and toejam $ bedlam $
$ 11 $ nap-time - the dog prank - exclusive interview $ hooch $
$ 12 $ movie reviews [showgirls!@] - win95 vs. os/2 [sorta] $ hooch $
$ 13 $ straight outta' compton - dialchix - muh dawg!@ $ hooch $
$ 14 $ i'm a tall, goofy, dorky, chink $ phorce $
$ 15 $ bedazzled by the eliteness $ creed $
$ 16 $ how to blow your nuts out with cornstarch and orangina $ creed $
$ 17 $ i am a warez pup - who are you? $ hooch $
$ 18 $ lemmings $ phorce $
$ 19 $ the science of astrology $ belial $
$ 20 $ the notorious anticlimactic bastards of the zine scene $ cd/h0 $
$ 21 $ dUcK 54uc3?!#$!? $ phorce $
$ 22 $ top 5000 reasons why i should kill myself $ creed $
$ 23 $ citrus fruits for sale $ phorce $
$ 24 $ group masturbation $ belial $
$ 25 $ ethereal experiences for perverted pyromaniacs $ creed $
$ 26 $ catering for the warez eleet $ phorce $
$ 27 $ brief mental pause $ belial $
$ 28 $ the army day camp $ belial $
$ 29 $ the geek theory, hickies, and another long day $ creed $
$ 30 $ nets, zines, and that chick from wings $ hooch $
$ 31 $ mentos! the freedom giver! $ mercuri $
$ 32 $ ramblings of a poseur $ bedlam $
$ 33 $ sitcoms, stereotypes, and satan $ creed $
$ 34 $ fuck you - a note to all y'all on #zines $ hooch $
$ 35 $ apples, oranges, and pears $ phorce $
$ 36 $ the little cultist that couldn't $ creed $
$ 37 $ careening through hyperspace at a slug-like rate $ creed $
$ 38 $ snowday $ phorce $
$ 39 $ creed is g0d $ creed $
$ 40 $ big hurt is ruler of the earth $ bighurt $
$ 41 $ dead people, nasty thoughts, and colored glue $ bighurt $
$ 42 $ bbs softwares/internet $ hooch $
$ 43 $ abandon thy gods! from yonder cometh y0lk! $ creed $
$ 44 $ mogel's own very special personalized $1 y0lk issue $ phorce $
$ 45 $ your burro is no jackass! $ creed $
$ 46 $ rollerskates, indians, eagles and cougars $ creed $
$ 47 $ outer space, ice cream, streetcars and gophers $ creed $
$ 48 $ Evan the genius becomes enlightened and melts his face off $ creed $
$ 49 $ 6 insignificant ziners in a bowling microcosm of life $ creed $
$ 50 $ the best of the worst $ creed $
$ 51 $ the prince of darkness versus some guy named dave $ trip $
$ 52 $ ode to my feet $ creed $
$ 53 $ hopelessly lost $ poots $
$ 54 $ the schoolhouse r0x!# $ phorce $
$ 55 $ campbell's chicken-noodle soup omen of death $ creed $
$ 56 $ dead cats $ juke $
$ 57 $ my inner taco $ handle $
$ 58 $ my place, or yours? $ mercuri $
$ 59 $ how to really use that spiffy monopoly money $ lumpy $
$ 60 $ struggle wif the giant pink elephant $ lucifer $
$ 61 $ why did the chicken cross the road? $ insane $
$ 62 $ y0lk test pattern $ mutter $
$ 63 $ ELiTE LiT from the master himself $ creed $
$ 64 $ creed's k-rad lit archives, volume two $ creed $
$ 65 $ UNSOPHISTICATED FASCIST BASTARDS. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ME. $ creed $
$ 66 $ how y0lk saved my life (sorta) $ creed $
"T$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$T"
--(infoez)---------------------------------------------------------------------
if you see your name on that chart, you are a y0lk member, whether you
like it or not. if you are a y0lk member, you have a y0lk member board, et
cetera.
phoenix 201 is the official eleet telecom section of y0lk
hooch is the stupendous chief shephard of y0lk.
phorce is the head samurai of y0lk! beware!
mindcrime is an official y0lk member, cuz he's just so damn wacky-ass.
creed is god. get used to it.
email creed@nexxus.novasys.com to contact me. yep.
to get all the rest of the y0lks, ftp to ftp.openix.com /ftp/phorce/y0lk
or... call our world headquarters, erebus, at 201-762-1373. k-rad.
OR... leave a message on my vmb: 1-800-925-9999,#,#,476
