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y0lk-075
--(woo)----------------------------------------------------------------------
y0lk #75: jamesy and the giant slinky
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the following article was written for slinky e'zine, by james
hetfield, with random jokes written by mogel & murmur. however, to our
surprise, this t-file was REJECTED by cerkit & belial of slinky e'zine.
therefore, we now bring this file to you, Y0LK-READER, for your
reading pleasure! ENJOY!
- mogel [doomed@voicenet.com]
+-----+
> "The clumsy postman invades woodlawn"
> by James Hetfield [dt0, doodz!]
It was the elite of times, it was the lame of times. It was
a time of great couriering, it was a time of great stagnency. It was
a time of multi-colored blocks; it was a time of LCD monitors. It was
woodlawn; slinkyland.
The population of the town of slinkyland was approx. 7. All the
local citizens, therefore, noticed any strangers in woodlawn; slinkyville.
And on this day, friday december the 34th, there certainly was a stranger
in woodlawn; slinkyville. there was also some custard, but perhaps that
wasn't so important. in fact, it's not really important at all.
"I am clumsy postman and everyone will feel my wrath as i use
my trip technique on you!" he roared as he entered the small town of
woodlawn; slinkyville.
belial, a local patron, heard his battle cry and quickly ran
to his next door neighbor's, cerkit, to tell him about the dangerous
monstrosity. of course, to call belial a local patron is kind of goofy,
but that's quite all right.
"do0d this is like bad." cerkit said, after taking a few more
hits to cope with the situation. cerkit would one day learn to lay off
those louisville sluggers.
"we've got to stop him! metalchic is our only hope!" belial
whined, as he ready the chic-signal.
a very large picture of an iron lurked above the clouds of
woodlawn; slinkyville. The patrons now knew something was wrong. it was
probably the overflowing toilet in the local monastery where belial and
cerkit occassionally played monk, but it could have been something else.
"don't worry, woodlawn; slinkyville! I'll be right there!"
metalchic said to herself as she saw the signal in the clouds. she had to
put on her hero-outfit first, which was basically just a rush t-shirt and
some jeans.
* * *
life is pathetic. gimme a break. there are NO heroes. how
many times do I have to tell you people this? so what. so what if
someone is stronger, or smarter, or what not. they won't get any farther
into the ground when they die then you will. hey, clyclone rangers, listen
up. for this story is about all of us. this isn't just a silly tidbit from
a fictional writer. no. this is real, babycakes.
* * *
"metalchic, eh? well, taste the fury of the air mail!" clumsy
postal man said, as he whipped his shrueken-sharp letters at metalchic.
"aHa! i am made of metal! you cannot harm me with your petty
attacks!" metalchic retorted, letters clanking off her torso.
"surely then you shall phear the snail mail delay blast!" clumsy
postman cried, as he shot a bolt of power at metalchic, freezing her in
time. lucky time@!#
"nonONONONOnNLnOnONNO now how will i get my new issues of slinky?!"
metalchic whined, not able to move a muscle.
* * *
i know what you're thinking, if she couldn't move a muscle, how
could she whine? well, shut up, jackass.
* * *
"mohahahaha! i owns your codes now, metalchic!" clumsy postman
maniacially laughed as he turned for his next targets, the patrons of
woodlawn; slinkyville.
* * *
picture yourself in a field. picture yourself letting your hair
down in that field, feeling a light breeze across your face in that field.
picture yourself leaning slightly on someone you love, as a breeze lightly
touches your cheeck in that field. picture yourself eating a nice pack
of gourmet pez[tm] while you lean slightly on someone you love as a light
breeze kisses you on the cheeck in a beautiful field. Picture yourself
breaking the heart of your girlfriend as you lean slightly on someone you
love as a light breeze touches you lightly on the cheeck in that field.
but first, picture yourself getting shot in the stomach because your
girlfriend was alanis moresette as you lean slightly on someone you love
as a light breeze fucks your ear in that beautiful field. picture yourself
getting someone you love pregnant and having flipper babies because you
have no more prostate glands because your girlfriend who was alanis
moresette kicked you too hard in the nuts after a light breeze fucked your
ear so hard it blew our your eardrum in a beautiful field.
* * *
"now it is your turn, cerkit! feel the wrath of PRIORITY MAIL!"
clumsy postal man said, whipping out his prized package.
Unfortunately, clumsy postman tripped on his shoelaces and impaled
himself on that priority letter, bringing this story to an unexpected close.
sorry, batman.
however, the end was not quite there. something still gloomed over
the story like a dark cloud, not enabling the story to reach it's expected
end. was it the relationships between the characters? was it the lack of
inside jokes? was it mogel looming over the keyboard? or was it that we
hadn't yet added a section of pip-bashing. yeah! that's it!
* * *
i was somewhere between heaven and hell when i realized the meaning of
why all us scumsucking bags of flesh parade around the earth. but that's not
important now. what _is_ important is the fact that your mom is one tubby,
fat peice of shit. yeah, that's right, i'm talking to YOU. shut the hell up
already. talk, talk, talk. you just flap and flap and flap your lips like a
fuckin' humming bird, but i know the deal.
there's nothing in the world like peeing against the wind.
* * *
pip arrived on the scene.
"i'm an idiot," he muttered and felt a kick.
"ok! ok! i'm a BIG idiot!" he retorted.
all was peaceful. until...
* * *
isn't it ironic? don't you think?
* * *
"hey," said belial, "we forgot about metalchic!"
yes, they had forgotten about metalchic, still frozen in time.
"we should help her!" said pip.
"i guess so," said cerkit, so they sat and discussed what to do.
then they realized that metalchic was an attractive young lady and
whoever saved her first she would probably be indebted to.
"oh, i just remembered this can of gasoline," said cerkit. cerkit
threw the gasoline on metalchic, freeing her from space-time. however, she
was covered with gasoline, so she didn't feel indebted to cerkit, but just
hugged him.
* * *
it's like raaaaiiiiin, on your wedding day...
* * *
"i'm going to go start a new 'zine now," said pip.
and all was happy in woodlawn; slinkyville.
--(note)--------------------------------------------------------------------
i love jamesy. yeah. i just need to take a moment to extend a huge
thanks to mogel and all these writers for giving me like, eight y0lk files
tonight. so be prepared. 04/29/96, y0lk explosion.
--(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 $
$ 67 $ shiny nickles, no more TP, and shitty knuckles $ ideal $
$ 68 $ some puppet plays $ phorce $
$ 69 $ "... Hello operator ..." $ mutter $
$ 70 $ i bit my nail, now my finger is bleeding. $ traq $
$ 71 $ battle of the ants $ rage $
$ 72 $ fun on the phone $ ideal $
$ 73 $ yabba-dabba do, scooby-dooby do, and many other mysteries..$ handle $
$ 74 $ i love you as my own mother $ sphrog $
$ 75 $ jamesy and the giant slinky $ jamesy $
"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.
heil creed. <HEIL!# HEIL!#>
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*... look for "y0lkb0t" on irc, efnet. type "@y0lk (number)" for y0lks.
_OR_... ATTENTION y0lkies!# join the y0lk mailing list!# chat about y0lk
and all them other zines, too!# email listserv@magsystems.com with the line
"subscribe y0lk" in the body of the message.
don't you feel like you're getting a little too much information here?
couldn't we just show our ftp site and shut up? it's just sad that we
have to advertise all our cheap media at the bottom of every textfile
like this. what a bunch of losers we are.
