Tripe #5 The writer is flying
Tripe Issue Five - September 3rd, 2002
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|I|S|S|U|E| |5|
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- Last Night - Marco
- Coming out Of The closet - Cog
- Garden of Weeden - Johnny Bladez
- how to make MST3K "botz" if you don't feel like spending money at yard sales and swap meets - BMC
- Ten - Johnny Ten-Times
- 4th Ring - Aster
- the big day - Joel and Stephanie
- Brecken - Jessica
Well the writer of this editorial is moving. The writer of this editorial is flying. How is the writer of this editorial writing this editorial? The writer of this article hase no fucking idea. Maybe it's because the writer of this editorial wrote this note a long time ago!
HAahahHAhAH
Yes, so enjoy this article as the writer of this editorial flys around and moves to a new city. No biggie B-I-G. Dig?
BAhHAbhABhbahbHAbhABha]]
This is so funny that the writer of this editorial put this new issue together a long time ago.
hehe
Enjoy your magazine.
Last Night
Marco Capelli
I slept great last night.
Which was completely unexpected because I had no one to sleep with that evening. Usually I sleep better if I can hear someone snoring. I mean it. Even if it's someone I don't know very well, or someone I only slept with platonically. And yes, sometimes both at the same time. Which seems to be the case the past few weeks.
So last night I slept really well. In fact, I woke up not wanting to leave bed. I was dreaming really great things, and would have wished to just close my eyes again and get back to fix the ending of one of the last two or three, but since it never materialized I did in fact get out of bed.
Once out of bed I began thinking about how I'm going to phrase this article, because afterall I'm writing it for TRIPE, the best zine on the entire internet. Is this a great article or what? It surely belongs in TRIPE magazine IMHO.
Shut up. I AM humble. You just can't tell sometimes. In fact I'm about the most humble person on the planet. I don't think there are more than a small handful of people out there living OR dead more humble than me. Yes, yours truly. Let's see. Gandhi maybe, Jesus the Christ, and Eminem. They're more humble than me. But I'm more humble than anyone else in the whole world.
And I humbly submit this article to TRIPE, waiting to see if maybe it'll get published next week. I probably won't sleep very well tonite while I await. Because afterall, TRIPE is so great, and I'm only so great.
Marco publishes a small e-rag called Activist Times which is almost as good as TRIPE, and is the techie for the Milwaukee Independent Media Center.
Coming out of The closet
Cog
I have received approximately 250 bags of fan mail in the last few weeks. Usually this goes straight to the fire in order to heat my house (another way to beat the system), but I began reading it out of boredom a few days ago. The batteries in my flashlight damned near wore out! There seemed to be a recurring question threaded throughout the usual death threats, and nude photos of Rue McLanahan.
"Where have you gone? Why haven't you written for awhile?"
Fuck you. It's not like I haven't been writing or anything. I've been going at it steadily this whole time! And as for where I've been, let me direct you to a quote from BMC's article on his "father", W.O. Mitchell:
"I remember how dad loved to `write' a good story. I actually remember how dad used to lock me in the closet with a pad and pen, he wouldn't feed me and he'd make me stay in there until I wrote what he referred to as `gold'."
It seems that BMC has a bit of the demon W.O. in him. I've been in this closet for what seems like decades. It's all dark, it's hot, and it hurts and stuff. So, in closing, I hope that he thinks this is "gold", because otherwise I'll be scourged again. Also, send some batteries. I have stopped getting aroused by Ms. Rue.
Garden of Weeden
by Johnny Bladez
So being a big naturalist and stuff of course I have this totally kick ass garden. I am in love with plants and other flora and when I give fresh vegetables to people they give me cool stuff back like smiles and giggles which I add to my collection.
This time I was to harvest up some carrots, potatoes, and peas. I couldn't find the carrots because I know that carrots are orange and I couldn't see anything orange in the garden except for my orange tree which I know are not carrots even though it took me a few tries to figure that out. So I just used that shit as a steppin' stone and went on to dig me up some taters (that's potatoes for you un-gardening-educated peeps). I had my three-pronged hook thingie or whatever to dig them up with but they spied me with their "eyes" and took off. Oh man, that's awesome even for TRIPE.
So now I was left with the peas. I got out my machete and started slicing that shit up like a samurai. I got a little carried awayne and ended up destroying all the plants in the entire garden and also two neighbours and a mom. Oh yeah, I also forgot to weed the garden, but I did remember to ween the garden, which is more than I can say you did, punk.
how to make MST3K "botz" if you don't feel like spending money at yard sales and swap meets
- BMC
If you are a fan of Mystery Science Theatre, and you don't feel like making the elaborate botz, which involve rare items such as a barrel bank, a soapdish, a hockey helmet and the hood from a 1962 Buick, there is still hope for you.
If you don't want to waste your time making puppets of Tom Servo and Crow, why not make some original "botz" of your own? Here is what you need:
- A piece of paper
- Scissors
- A marker
- A piece of tape
First you cut two circles out of the paper, draw pupils on them, and tape them to practically anything! Congratulations! Now you have your own original "bot"!
If you're satisfied with your creation, you can turn everything in your house into botz. Lamps, chairs, radios, mirrors, globes, and pictures can all be transformed into beautiful living beings with the simple addition of two eyes.
Watch out for more bot building tips in future issues!
Ten
by Johnny Ten Times
The time is May, Ten O'Clock. It has been ten o'clock, or should I say it has been ten hours, for ten minutes. In ten seconds we will be ten. Tenderly we tend our tenacious tendencies, retaining our tenets in tendons, ten tendons, ten toes tense, tight, density times ten of a tendril then times ten of a tentacle. As I speak, intense, temporary, not lasting ten tenths of ten times ten seconds, my mind a tentative temple where I tend my temperament, tenuous. Tempered for tenure, I endure with tenacity, my tempo temperate, a template tempting, but tempt me not, for in this temple originality is the tempest to which no temporal tendril shall withstand. Tempo and flavour tempered, tangy, travelling tangents in tandem, for it takes two to tango. And as this tank of thought tantalizes my Tao, I wish to resist, wish I had stuck with a Tanaka.
4 rings
- aster
once there was a little man, who loved to run around on the white-rock covered hills. safe in his protective raincoat and gloves and high boots and hat and hood and umbrella, he didn't turn into a white stone himself, but just got really sweaty. in winter it was no fun to walk around outside in the rainy rain and he didn't. in the summer it is worth it, because it is so daredevil dangerous. one day, he tripped and fell and his umbrella went breaking away and his hoods all came off and the sun burned him and POOF he was a white stone not himself. it turned out that when you turn into a white white stone you get transported to another land, like a deep dark dank cave, with spikey things in the ceilings and floors and everything. in the cave he met a nice old man and his gigantic cat and they sang a song about murder together. in the song a young man murdered his Love and his mother and father and three sisters. then he laid them all out on the lawn and admired what he had done. he thought maybe if he asked nicely they would all come back to life, but it didn't work. he cried himself to sleep some nights.
they just sang the song over and over again. never stopping.
the end.
the big day
Joel and Stephanie
today was a very very very exciting day for me. it was august 15th, 2002. it was also thursday. we went to a movie and it was pretty good. then we went to the university and looked at sea urchins and fish. then we went to look at some statues. then we went to Ruckers and we went to Burger King and me Jessica and Miranda played on the toys and we went down the slide and we looked out windows and then we went home.
The End
Brecken
Jessica
Brecken is my best friend. She takes me to rucker to play games.
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|T|R|I|P|E| Issue Five - September 3rd, 2002
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website = http://scene.textfiles.com/tripe/tripe.txt
