Tripe #1 First issue
Tripe Issue One - August 4th, 2002
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- Don't just shop! Shop right! - Komrade B
- How to Drive - Melatonin
- Driving Around - Slick Stephen
- Rocking The Issue No. !! - Verticle Plunder
- Colour List - BMC
- 180 X-Up to Tailwhip to Fakie - by Your Friend Pipe
- Morse Code - Various Artists
Well Cog ruined The Neo-Cominter by saying that the last issue was out and that there was going to be no more issues. So now there is a new magazine called TRIPE and we are writing it. It is very good and much better than any other magazine. The Comintern is DEAD and we will kill anyone who makes more zines like the comintern.
Enjoy your magazine.
Don't just shop! Shop right! - Komrade B
You know TRIPE Magazine wants to tackle the things that matter to you! Not politics and philosophy, but bargains, fashion, cooking, and does he love you checklists. So today I'm looking at shopping. When to go, what to buy, how to buy it, and how to have fun while doing it.
1. What are you going to wear?
So many of you forget this, when out shopping you have to look good while shopping. Come on leave the pajamas at home girlfriend. Put on that eyeliner and look beautiful. Dudes put away the zubas pants the thongs and accessorize dammit!
2. What are you looking for?
If you have an answer to that question slap your hands. The best way to shop is with no objectives, come home with all kinds of crap. Thats what shopping is about. You plan supper you don't plan to buy matching shoes and pants...
3. Where are the sales?
Find out and avoid those places. You don't want that crap.
4. Do you need it?
Don't ask that question buy it and worry about it later. Remember shopping gives your life meaning. If you're not consuming whats the point?
5. Charge it!
Yep use that plastic the bank gave you thats what its for.
Don't forget to have fun. Buying things should make you feel warm inside not sad.
How to Try
by Melatonin
Hey there boys and girls, aliens and oddities. Melatonin here writing his first funky fresh article for Tripe magazine, the e-zine with the mostest toastest. What is Tripe, you ask? Well in truth, that's not such an easy question to answer. So I won't even try.
Ha ha, but then what kind of article would this be? I mean if I didn't try? We should all try. That's what life is all about. Try, kids, it will take you far. Take it from Melatonin, who didn't get into Tripe magazine by not trying, but by trying very hard, even to the point of actually doing.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Don't worry about doing just yet. For now, just try to try. Doing comes later.
So you want to try to get an article into Tripe magazine?
Well, first you need to write. In order to do this you need a pad and a pen. With your pad and pen you write your article, and then you need a computer. On your computer you transcribe your article into a file. (Once you gain confidence with this process, you can begin to write articles directly into your computer.) Then you need to sign up for the Internet so you call your phone company or maybe just wait until AOL sends you one of its discs in the mail. Oh but you also need a modem too. I forgot about that. You can get modems at different stores, for example RadioShack, CompuSmart, FutureShop. Well maybe not FutureShop, I'm not sure about that. They mostly just sell TVs and dishwashers and other futuristic thingamabobs (like batteries).
So you have your pad, your pen, your computer, your modem, and your Internet account. At this point, you have all that you need to write an article for Tripe, right?
WRONG! You forgot the imagination. Without imagination, your Tripe article will not be good. It will be tripe (without a capital T).
So remember, kids, imagination imagination imagination. THEN comes the technology. Get it right or you'll never learn.
Also take a grammar class if you can.
Driving Around - Slick Stephen
So we were driving around town the other night (booze-cruising, actually), and my girlfriend turned the wrong way onto a one way street. We didn't really get into an accident or anything, but this cop who was right there put on his flashers. This would have been cool on a normal day, but we weren't wearing seatbelts. Anyway, even though we were all drunk (especially her) and we had open liquor in the back of the car, the cop let us go because he never bothered to actually get off his lazy fascist ass to check out our car. "It's a good thing he didn't notice our plates are expired or find out I'm driving without a licence", my girlfriend said as we sped away into the darkness. That reminds me of an unrelated sub-story.
Now, there is this modern-day phenomenon known as the "late night drive thru". This amazing invention means that now you can buy a burger or whatever at 2 in the morning if you so desire. But, you will notice that there is a sign that says:
For the safety and security of our staff and the customers NO CAR NO SERVICE
Isn't this discrimination? I was really hungry last night, and those bastards wouldn't serve me because I didn't drive there. This is probably not news to anybody else, as everyone has likely tried to go through a drive thru without a car.
But what would happen if some guys threw a car in neutral and pushed it through? The sign doesn't say anything about it. Think about that!
So, we went back to my girlfriend's place, got her car, and pushed it up to the speaker. "OK, I'm ready to order now!"
"No", they said.
"Ummm, I'll get 2 wopper juniors..."
"I can't serve you unless you get in the car"
"...umm and a large coke.."
"Does that car work?"
"...erh, and 3 milkshakes."
"We can't serve you guys"
"Why not?"
"You have to get in the car first"
"Vrrooom! Vroooom!"
"Does that car work? Are you going to order something, or just
make car sounds?"
"VROOOOM!"
"Does that car work?"
"Yep, can I order now?"
"No."
"Ok, I'll have a large coke.."
"No."
"Huh?"
"You can't order."
"Is that legal?"
"We're calling the cops"
"Go ahead, call the cops, we OWN the cops! Now.. I'll have 3
milkshakes"
"No..we're really calling the cops"
"Oh..."
So, all this B.S. about no car no service is a lie! We had a car, but where was the service? FUCK FAST FOOD! Stupid, no service, fascist, racist, rude, greasy, overpriced, fornicating, astrovan driving, nazi, old, bugshot acting, arsehole bastards!
So, in closing, TRIPE needs some people to replicate this experiment. Condition the corporate world, break it down, tear down the walls of capitalist Canada. As soon as we all make the change, we will have freedom. Sweet freedom, the freedom to enslave the very bastards who enslaved us (A.K.A. Bugger King and all employees thereof).
Rocking The Issue No. !! - Verticle Plunder
Rocking The Issue No. 1!
by Verticle Plunder
Knock Knock...
Who there, fool?
THE FIRST ISSUE OF **TRIPE**!!!!!
'First issue of TRIPE' who?
Shut up!
What UP fuckers? Verticle Plunder here for the explosive first issue of this new fucking zine being called TRIPE! I see you bastards finally took time out from reading those bullshit zines out there and started reading something worth while.
TRIPE is the zine that will get you FORTIES, BITCHES, & BLUNTS.
The other zines are full of fucking losers who just bitch about stupid personal problems or politics or bullshit no one but themselves care about. Fuck that shit. Fuck it. And fuck you for reading, you fucking morons.
If you want a zine, you read TRIPE. If you want some bullshit... I dunno, read something else. They don't put no bullshit in here.
And obviously, that's why I'm writing for it. I AM TEXTFILES. I don't bitch about shit no one cares about! EVERYTHING IN TRIPE IS FUCKING FRESH. You won't be seeing me write no weak poetry!
They were starting up a zine and was all like "how do we make it not suck?" and i was all "who cares? that scene is full of retarddss man, they'll read anything! just make it suck" but they was all "no, i want it to be cool" so i was just like "easy, let me write for that shit, man!"
And here I am, making this zine THE SHIT. Enjoy.
-- Straight to ya' from VP!
Colour List - BMC
A colour-coded list of everything that I can see
Green: a binder coil tat my cat likes to play with, a lid from a cardboard box, a throw pillow, some plastic plants in an aquarium, two packages with photographs inside, Brecken's shirt, the label on a package of bright white printer paper, three large ceramic plates, the rims of three small dinner plates and two coffee mugs, a bowl where I keep my keys and scarf and toque and mitts, my winter army jacket, by backpack, one cactus plant, a rice bowl with holes on either side to put chopsticks through
blue: my fleece, hanging on a coat hanger, Brecken's book bag, Brecken's fila-fresh running shoes, my shoes, a pen on the trunk, the lid of the water container, Brecken's hair elastic, the vase on the bookshelf
Red: my scarf, the lining of my plaid workshirt, the cover of a UNB information book, a fish in a tank (Morgan le Fay), the writing on the super big cup on the trunk, two dictionaries on the shelf, Brecken's pajama bottoms, two copies of Dry Lips Oughta Move to Kapuskasing, the writing on an ice cream bucket that contains Scrabble tiles, some other books that I can't make out the titles of
Black: Brecken's backpack, hanging in the entrance, the backing of a fake fireplace, one large bookshelf, the trim of a fish tank containing three fish, the border of a Metropolis movie poster, two speakers and a stereo hooked up to a computer, a AA/AAA battery recharger, a 3-hole punch, a binder, another binder, two Alice Munro books, Long Day's Journey Into Night, the border of a throw rug, a palm pilot keyboard case, a pal pilot keyboard and a palm pilot, both of which I am currently using, a few more books on the Shakespeare shelf, probably about Titus Andronicus, a few more books that I can't make out.
Brown: Brecken's hiking boots, a small wooden statue of two people kissing, the maple floor, Brecken's slippers, the dish shelf, the phone stand, a picture frame with two pictures of Brecken and Adrienne in it, two French onion soup bowls, a chair in the corner, a clock above the mantle, a love seat across the room, a couch that Brecken and I are currently sitting on, the table top on which the computer sits, the seat of a chair, all but the seat of a different chair, two small bookshelves, a flowerpot, the trunk on which I am resting my feet
Yellow: The yellow pages of the phone book, the pillow I rest my arm on and the one like it at the other end of the couch, a highlighter on the trunk, the seat of a chair that is otherwise all brown, Bernard Shaw's Plays Pleasant
Grey: a stretchy mitt in the middle of the floor, a cat (Rahula), my socks, a statue of Buddha, a pencil sharpener, a computer mouse, a fuzzy toy mouse that Rahula likes to play with, bottom feeders (proletariats) in the fish tank
White: the walls, the ceiling, the mantle, my shirt, stacks of Backyard Ashes #2, covers and pages of many books, stacks of paper, a bot rack in the entrance
parti-coloured: an answering machine, a video-cassette in a rental case, lamps and lights, the rocks in the fish tank, pictures and picture frames, my brown and blue plaid pajama bottoms, an evil dead ii movie poster, a cup with pens and pencils in it, books on shelves, stacks of cds, throw pillows, a titus andronicus DVD, a titis andronicus book on the floor, a table and chair with purple legs, Brecken's tan white and blue necklace, a painting on the wall behind me, a maroon telephone, silver and brass coat hangers, a decorative basket, a brassy heater, some clear glasses, Brecken's glasses, brecken and I, a purple transparent popcorn bowl, and a yellow cat toy with a green bell and purple feathers. She likes that toy the best.
180 X-Up to Tailwhip to Fakie
by Your Friend Pipe
So I'm sitting here in an undisclosed location, watching some pay-per-view porno on the magic decoder box. There are a few different channels to choose from, but it's all basically the same. It all seems to follow the classic oral/oral/position 1/position 2/position 3/finish rule that all bullshit porn follows. What, am I trapped in 1994 over here? While I can't figure out what year we're in, I can DEFINITELY tell you that I'm trapped in some sort of world where the buttsex is verboten. These channels are more hard-core than your run of the mill hotel-room porn setup -- you'll see your basic money shots, some half-hearted cocksucking, and all the safe sex you can stand. But for the few months that I've spent examining this, I've yet to see any backdoor action. No A2Ms, no DPs, No DVDA, no nothing. It's like they're making it for little kids or something! At least they make an attempt to put in some usually hilarious plot points.
Like TRIPE magazine, most modern porno is all-sex. The concept of wrapping a plot around the fucking went out with pegged pants. Now, we're dealing with McPorn: it's fast, it's technically fucking, and there you go, hope you're happy with it. Two hours, all-sex, all-anal, all-asian, all-facials. There are so many different offshoots and fetish styles of porn that no one dares make your standard, plot-driven porn film. What happened to all those amazing parodies of Hollywood films? Men in Black Women? Good luck. You really have to scour the aisles for the good stuff, brushing past the 40 rows of midget lesbian shaving tapes to find one battered copy of the Juli Ashton movie where they steal the plot from Being John Malkovich. It's a shining example of porn's often misguided yet still hilarious sense of humor. Unfortunately, too many of you are downloading bukkake videos and buying German shit tapes to care.
Maybe this not-quite-hard-core porn on pay-per-view isn't so bad after all. At least they're making at attempt at plots, even if most of it is sappy tales of adultery and random vampire stories. The acting is still hilarious, even if it isn't directly trying to parody whatever the latest Harry Potter movie is. It sure beats the assembly line bullshit that's poisoning our porn shops. Boycott all-sex porno tapes! Give us a plot, not 400 money shots!
I should get that on a T-shirt or something. Or maybe TRIPE should just change its tagline to "all plot, no money shots."
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|T|R|I|P|E| Issue One - August 4th, 2002
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website = http://scene.textfiles.com/tripe/tripe.txt
