Tripe #10 The anagram poem
Tripe Issue Ten - October 13th, 2002
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|I|S|S|U|E| |1|0
+-+-+-+-+-+ +-+Contents:
- The Quest For True Love. - Komrade B
- Requium - Margarina Cataclysma
- The Monsters of Io - BMC
- BBS Article - Cog
- GLADIATOR MONKEYS - Gnarly Wayne
Erh, heh heh.
Now is the winter of our discontent, made summer by this gorious son of Jork. These anagram poems are really hard.
Oh, are they ever,
Yo.
Yo.
Oh, are they ever.
U know what I mean?
R you in a state of understanding what I mean?
Many issues of TRIPE have been released, ten in fact.
And this issue, this greatest issue, this issue will be our very last.
Gasp.
And in this issue we have all of our greatest writings ever, and you can Z look at them and enjoy them for all time.
Incredible, right? Yes. We're the best ever, TRIPE, and we're quitting
Now, while we're at the top of the world. LIKE THE BEST FUCKING ZINE EVOR>
Enjoy your magazine.
The Quest For True Love
Komrade B
Alas as time goes by and Spring rears it's fearsome face. I contemplate another year of my life and place it in the memoirs. The memoirs have become dull as late. In what was shaping to be a glorious epic of the trials of a young revolutionary turned into a sour, decrepit, midden of depression. The memoirs had come full circle, and I anticipated death which at the time I looked forward to.
Love seemed a fleeting dream, trust and innocence lost in the annals of time. Yes I was and am bitter. Today a small child asked me to push them as they learned to ride their bike. In a fit of disdain I bent the handle bars inward and returned it to the child. I walked away laughing.
A elderly lady came into the store where I worked and began to tell me a non-sensical story about possums and her nephew. She attempted to see if I was listening by occaisionaly stopping in mid-sentence and asking the prices of products in the store. I tried hard to listen but soon gave up and made her go stand outside in the cold to wait for the bus. I thinked she may have died but at the time I would have just envied her for becoming free.
Why am I bitter? Love my friends and the epic quest therein. I have not found true love and I fear I never will. School, bars, work, ICQ. Have all failed to produce what I would like to call true love. I am begging anyone to please open their hearts to me, so I too can learned what it feels like to break it.
Thank you.
Requieunm
Margarina Cataclysma
So when I read issue 82 of the neo comintern, I got kinda freaked out. At first I was sad cause these guys lost their friend. Then I started getting suspicious and started to think that they had killed him. Then I started to get paranoid and thought that they had made the whole thing up as a ruse to snare poor unsuspecting readers like myself into feeling sorry for them.
So in disgust I shut my browser off and went to a movie, I don't remember what movie it was, my short-term memory is long gone.
Anyways, my point is that it sucks when people die in style. Cause what better thing to learn from a friend than how to die in style? Snif, Komrade B, I never ever knew ya, and truly I have no idea why I'm writing this other than BMC asked me to, so take care and if you bump into Ed (he has white hair and a stolen SUV) tell him I always had a crush on him, even when he was in San Quentin for all those years.
The Monsters of Io
BMC
I would like for you not to believe that any of this is real, but then again, none of my stories are true. In fact, since this story is based on a dream, that means that I'm making less of it up than usual. That seems to make it more real to me, but it will probably end up making it seem less real to you!
I looked around at my surroundings. It was the pitch of night and there was no light but a distant moon. Amazingly, in a place that should have been dark I was able to see everything around me. There were tombstones in front of me, and there were more behind me. I knew this without turning around. Of course I was in a graveyard. I didn't have to bother looking around, because I could see everything anyway. I could read every tombstone from where I stood, but I didn't want to. I didn't care much for the particulars of this field of death.
Since I could see everything without looking around I should have realized this was a dream, but instead everything seemed to become more and more real to me. There were four feet of fog on the ground. I think my subconscious put it there to scare me. It worked. It was scary, but for some reason it didn't prevent me from being able to see the ground at my feet. It was there and not there at the same time, sort of like a ghost? I didn't know where I was, and the last place I would have guessed would have been within my subconscious.
The hovering fog should have been my first clue (it was a total cliché). This stuff doesn't happen in tv shows that are realistic, so why should it happen in a convincing dream? It did, though, and I bought into it.
The sad thing is that even in the dream I recognized it as a cliché, and when I came to this realization the fog disappeared. There were two gigantic clues, and neither of them alerted me to the falseness of the situation. Now you know exactly how bright I am. Wow, was I ever a fool yesterday, and I didn't even realize it at the time! I'm glad I'm not a fool today.
I looked up into the sky and our beautiful moons, and I knew instantly that the second moon was Io. It was just a guess, but I think I had a 98% chance of being right because Io is the only moon I have ever heard of by name and there had been nothing original in this dream so far.
Suddenly, as often happens in dreams, I was taken out of the action and I was watching some monsters who were busy at work on the surface of Io. They were kind of cute. They basically looked like human beings, but they had blue hair and antennae! They spoke in some language that I didn't understand, but since it was a dream that means I made up the language myself! How odd that I couldn't understand a language that I created! How very silly of me!
Oh yeah, so the monsters the monsters were building a space ship, and I guessed that they would be using it to fly to Earth! I was right. It was my dream, and my guesses tend to have better accuracy when I am in partial control of everything that happens.
I did get one thing wrong, though, and I think I know why. I figured that the space ship would land in the United States because that's how it always happens in the movies. If a space ship landed in a Canadian movie it would seem really cheap and poorly produced and I bet the filmmakers couldn't even get a grant to produce the damn film! Sad, really.
This wasn't a movie though (not yet anyway), and the creativity of it was free flowing and unafraid of conventional boundaries. The space ship landed right in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, right in the middle of the graveyard I was chillin in. I pinched myself and it seemed real. "This must be reality," I said to myself. "This IS reality," my dream responded.
Great, and that's one thing I didn't need. If I would have known it was a dream I could have dismissed it. If I would have known it wasn't happening I couldn't have been scared, but here I was, here were the monsters of Io, and here was my fear. The fear was as ghostlike as the mist over the graves, but it was not transparent in that same way.
The monsters landed, and the fear overwhelmed me. I cowered as I saw them step from the spaceship, and flinched in horror as I noted their appearances. One was stern looking and masculine, and the other was thin and slightly graceful. They were a bit smaller than human beings, and their hair was bright blue. Yes, they may as well have been Star Trek guest stars, but I can't stress enough how powerful the vision was to me. It is like the difference between reading song lyrics and hearing them sung. When you hear them you can glean more meaning from them, and when I saw these monsters it was not merely with my eyes but something else, something unexplainable.
No, it was like wine vinegar. It was so strong that it made me shudder at first, but then I wanted that second taste. With every eyeful of the Iotians I wanted to eat more and more of their reflections. I wanted to devour them. The stocky one spoke to me.
He spoke to me, and I understood him. Somehow during the course of ten seconds of dream I had either learned the language of the monsters or they had learned mine! But what did they want from me? I hoped they weren't planning an anal probe like those guys who picked me up in the truck that time I was hitchhiking. Oh, I mean in the hitchhiking DREAM. Heh.
Nope, I was lucky. No anal probes on this day, but then again, would it have been so very bad? The monsters wanted something else, and it was actually pretty close to anal whatever. I asked what they wanted, and their response was, "Sex." It's not so surprising. It WAS my dream, after all. The only problem was that I didn't want to have sex because I just didn't want to, ok? Sex, though. I was flattered. They had come all the way to Earth and directly to my graveyard just to have sex with me. Come to think of it, that's the only word they said! I would attempt to communicate with them and they would respond with that word.
Sex, huh? As the monsters took me hostage I thought of a way I could get them all the sex that they wanted. The solution, of course, was to hook them up with porno superstar and hero to millions Ron Jeremy! So I called up Ron Ron my man Ron and told them I had some new stars for his movie. "What are they like?" asked my man. "Well they have blue hair and they want to have sex, and they're aliens from another planet. Well it's a moon really"
Ron had heard enough. "Bring them to me immediately," said Ron, and he hung up the phone. "Of course, Ron," I thought to myself. I could feel a win-win situation coming up, and everyone was going to be happy at the end of this story!
So I took the monsters and we went and rented a convertible to drive down to Ron's town of Los Angeles. We hit the road and drove southwest. We listened to some Dick Dale as the wind whipped through our hair and endless kilometres turned into endless miles. We were travelling with purpose, but not so quick enough to speed through the beauty of the moment. It was fun. I was captive, but at that moment I felt more free than I ever had before. Then we ran out of gas.
Things never get too complicated in my dreams, so there happened to be a gas station right there. Everything was a bit fuzzy during this part, so I think it might not have actually happened, but in fact been a dream within a dream. That makes things way more complicated I guess.
While the pretty monster pumped gas and the mean one paid for it with his credit card, I went in the side door to pass liquid. I unzipped my pants and looked down at my penis. It was really small. That made me sad, but then I realized it was a dream within a dream. That comforted me a bit, but then I realized that I didn't know if I would still have a small penis if I woke up from the dream within a dream. That would still just be my dream penis, though, so I guess it doesn't matter. It doesn't even really matter what size my penis is in real life, because if it happens to be really really small I may still be able to please a woman in other ways like giving her money or painting her fence. But that's none of your business.
I was staring at my penis in the mirror and then I heard a gunshot from the inside of the gas station. The clerk had shot the older monster of Io. I think the clerk must have been horrified at the strange looking creature that had hair that was different from normal human hair. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was something else. I didn't have time to think about it at the time, and I didn't have time to stop. I ran from the bathroom and straight to the car where the other monster was laying down in front of the seat so as not to be killed. With a full tank of gas I sped away, fleeing toward safety as far as I could, taking my frightened Iotian beauty toward Ron Jeremy as quickly as the car's wheels could turn.
We were on the run, but I felt strangely free, at least compared to a few minutes ago when I was a hostage. Now I was protector, and the young monster was no longer scary to me. Rather than fearing her, I becan to fear for her. It was a her now, our inter-reliance had carelessly thrown us into a perfect balance. "What is your name?" I asked. She didn't understand. "Sex" she replied. "Soon, my sweet monsteress soon, I promise."
I was beginning to fall in love with her, but I didn't understand why. We didn't have much in common after all, and I didn't think that a long distance relationship of about a hundred thousand million billion kilometres would work out. It didn't matter though. Above all of this I wanted to show my love for her, and I wasn't even sure why we were heading to Los Angeles anymore. I didn't want to hand this innocent over to Ron even if he was my man. There was no reason not to help her myself but oh wait, there was. I remembered what I had seen in the washroom a few hours ago. I couldn't give this monsteress what she wanted; I needed to bring the cavalry in for this job. But still I wished!
This was turning out to be a disturbing dream. The feeling of inadequacy hovered over me like mist. It was pretty much like that mist that hovered over the graveyard was right there again. I was feeling uneasy as we pulled up to Ron's place, not eager, but not expecting what I did see there.
I wasn't surprised, though. "Hey dude, what's happenin?" said Ron as he walked out to meet us at the car. "Let's get started right away!"
He reached into his pants and looked up at us with wide eyes. He removed his hand from his pants, and in his fist was clenched a gun! Nope it wasn't his penis. Like I said, I wasn't surprised. Strange stuff happens all the time in dreams. Don't get me wrong, I still didn't know it was a dream, it's just that my mind was going all screwy as the subconscious (or "subby" as I like to call it) was in control and logic was not.
Of course I threw that shit in reverse and as we peeled out, Ron fired a few shots at us. The monsteress ducked down, and I never got shot because they say you can never die in your dreams because when you die in a movie you die in real life as well. It's true.
The monsteress and I drove and I knew that it was the entire world against us. The police knew, the FBI knew, and the army knew. Even my mom knew. Know how I know all of that? Cause it was my dream!
So here we were, rushing for the border, and we must have hit a time lapse because it was only about five minutes before we were closing in on the border again, and now it was the middle of the night. And again, to no surprise, the FBI was still closing in on us.
You might be dissappointed in me because this story is turning out exactly like a Hollywoodland movie, but please be patient because this is my dream, and if I could go back in time and dream it better, I would. I promise (two times over).
But there we were, closing in on the border, almost there, and then we hit that big black line and slid across. As we did, a bunch of lights turned on all around us. They were headlights. It was the RCMP, AKA the good guys.
Ever since the early days of the Canadian stereotype, everyone has known about the reputation of RCMP officers (note I am not allowed to use the word "Mountie" due to the Disney corporation's ownership of that word (along with all of the meaning behind it)). Since I can't use that word, I will have to step carefully around it in order to avoid prosecution, prostitution, execution, genital electrocution, being forced to watch movies of the Disney variety (AKA capitalist propaganda for tots), etc. I fear all of these punishments worse than death (except for execution, which I fear equally).
Now what the fuck was I talking about? Oh goody yes, those guys in red were on our side because they were enlightened and cool like that guy from the television show where the Canadian Federal officer goes and does police stuff in the United States. It was pretty much like that, but these guys were here to protect us from the Americans, and that was really number one.
So then came the FBIs and they got all mean-like with the guns and the bullets and the shooting and the guns. That was really number two because it made me sad. The mean mans were all yelling at each other and then one get really mad and pull out his guns and he shoot me into the face. Then I was being die.
Ring.
Yep, that was the phone. It was my girlfriend, and god do I ever love her.
I was in a deep sleep, and though I picked up the phone and talked to her, I don't remember a single word that I said to her that evening. And yes, I was sleeping during the evening, and I am not ashamed of that.
I don't remember the conversation at all, but my girl told me about all of the weird stuff I was saying and I have no reason to disbelieve it, considering that she is afraid of me and would not lie for fear of getting caught and then being subjected to something terrible like being forced to make love to me at some time other than our once-per-month routine. I don't see why it matters to her anyway, seeing as how I am completely impotent and our lovemaking sessions consist of a half-hearted attempt to satisfy her and then twenty minutes of apologies and weeping. (NOTE: omit this paragraph)
She asked me why I was sleeping at seven p.m., and in response I calmly screamed that the FBI were trying to kill me and that I had been shot in the head. I called my girlfriend "monster" several times and told her how much I loved her, and that I would protect her no matter what. She thought it was cute until she realized I was sleeping and then she informed me that she had been cheating on me with my best friend.
That woke me up completely. I got a bit upset, first for her disturbing my dream, and then for her disturbing the sanctity of our relationship. Realizing that I was left with nothing in this world, I hung up on her and went back to sleep to dream of my sweet monster, and there she was waiting for me.
Ahh, but when falling back to sleep I had forgotten that this was not a peaceful dream but a terrifying one. My mood quickly shifted from tranquillity to anxiety, and I held tight to my young blue-haired beauty as an angry mob surrounded us, prepared to lynch us for our unacceptable, misunderstood, fragile love. They began to close in on us. The crowd included FBI and RCMP officers, army personnel, police officers, doctors, professors, construction workers, and other klansmen from every other walk of life. They wished nothing but to destroy what they could not comprehend.
One of them hit me with a rock, another yelled, "Moonslut!" at my beautiful love. The volume of the yelling and screaming made my ears hurt. I attempted to shield the monsteress from the attacks, but as they got within striking range I realized there was no way that I could hold them back from her for much longer. "If only they could just kill me and spare her innocent life," I thought to myself.
Then I looked down at my hands and realized that this was a dream. It had never dawned on me before, but I remembered back to when I was on the phone with my now ex-girlfriend and realized that I had fallen asleep again after that. That meant I was sleeping. That meant that this wasn't real even though it felt like it was. That meant I was now having a lucid dream. That meant I could control this dream and make it turn out however I wanted it to. I have always been one to take advantage of a situation. That made my dream suddenly become very very cool.
Everybody looked up into the sky as the dark sky turned to light. Rays of light punched through the clouds, vapourizing them, and suddenly it was the middle of a bright summer afternoon. The crowd still surrounded us, but now the monsteress and I were on a huge stage and the people around us were in awe. I looked up in the sky and made a wish. Everything I wanted became reality as Zeus descended from Mount Olympus and stood with us on the stage.
"What's going on here?" he asked. "Well, father," I replied, "these people were about to kill us because our love is different." Zeus shrugged his shoulders as if to suggest that there was nothing that could be done, but the surprise was on us because then lightning bolts shot out of his body in all directions, killing people in all directions, murdering one in ten. The crowd was decimated - in the true sense of the word. After, this everybody calmed down because there was nothing to do now that they knew they couldn't successfully attack against a really strong and cool guy like Zeus.
The audience was now silent, and father Zeus asked the monsteress what its purpose on the planet of Earth was. The monsteress, who could suddenly speak now, explained in a long and drawn out way that "sex" in Iotian is equivalent to "world peace" in English. She also explained what it meant in every other Earth language (including the obscure click languages and the sounds of many kinds of animals), but none of this made any sense to me and it took a really long time because there are, like, over a hundred languages so that was a lot of talking.
As she was babbling in languages we didn't understand, the crowd and I had a chance to think about how wrong we had been in prejudging this noble creature. The now-settled mob had assumed that because the monsteress was different from the rest of them that something was dangerous about her, but in fact she was the less harmful than anyone else there. Her mission was to promote peace, and her efforts were met with violence. Why would humans want to hurt a monster whose entire purpose was to help them? The realization of this made them feel terrible about what they had done, and as the entire world watched the events live on their monitors, the people of the world simultaneously agreed that nothing was more important than world peace.
As we all stood in awe, a small child stepped in from the crowd, approached the monsteress, and touched her cloak. The child began to grow larger and larger, and his skin became thick and scaly as he mutated. The crowd was horrified. "What sort of spectacle is this that frightens me so terribly?" one man was heard to yell. Yes it was terrifying, and yes it was terrible, and yes it was a terror; what was once a small boy was now a gigantic dinosaur! "and this dinosaur," said the monsteress, "will preserve peace in the world and murder anyone who violates the interest of their fellow animals." "Does that include Esperantonians?" asked a voice in the crowd. "No, it includes every living animal in the universe EXCEPT for Esperantonians. You may kill them as you see appropriate," said the monsteress. The crowd cheered. She was a hero, and the world had been changed forever by her efforts. I was a hero too, because it was my dream!
Never one to be outdone by Zeus, Jesus F. Christ came down from heaven and told everyone that it was about time the people did something positive like working together to achieve collective goals. Until that point, apparently, they all followed myths that encouraged people to form prejudices and mistreat people instead of reasoning with each other. "Oh and one more thing," said Jesus, "what that monsteress believed in, the things she had to say, and her enlightened state of being that is the essence of all things that are good. That is 'god,' that is 'heaven.' And the influence she will leave on this planet is 'soul.'"
With that the crowd cheered again. They were no longer confused, and they waved goodbye as my Iotian lover and I jumped in the convertible and drove skyward where I would live with her on that beautiful peaceful moon. I smiled to myself as she drove and I daydreamed about how I was finally going to be able to teach her something that would, in Iotian, someday come to be known as "world peace." The End.
BBS article
Cog
Adult Alley, Akasha's House of Pain, The Anti-Conspiracy Network, Anti-Social Underground, Army of Darkness, Avalon, The Barbershop, Benden Weyr, Black Hole, Blood Sweat and Tears, Bring on the Night, Bug Juice, Business Solutions, Captian's Ship, Chaos Emporium, Child's Play 69, Club Paradise, Community, Computer Network Marketing, cOrleOne, Darken Woods, Data Dump, Death's Domain, Detrimentia: Realm of DooM, Digital Underground (the real one), Digital Underground (dUng!), Dwarven Mines, Edge, Ensemble, Fiddler's Green, Fragile Existence, The Fourth Dimension, Games Garden, Gates Of Hell, Gateway Through Time, Hellspawn, High Tor, HMCS Unicorn, Home of the U.F.O., House of Wayne, Infinite Confusion, Infiverse, Insidious, International, In Utero, JokerTown, Jupiter, Kingdom of Laynia, Kuruption, MageCraft, Martensville Tradewars, Massey's Finest, .\\averick ][, MaytaG, Micro City'ToonTown, Middle Earth, Ming Men, Mirror, ModemLand, Mystic Kingdom, NCC-3815, Neon Knights, Night Gallery, Ninja Network, Norm's World, North Pole, North Villiage, Northern Nights, Oge Thorguson's Domain, Pennitentiary, Phil's Drive In, Phoenix Rising, PlaCentra, Pond, Popsicle, Purgatory, Rat's Nest, Realm, RomperRoom, S.A.U.G., S.C.U.G., Sanctuary, Sanitarium, Satan's Realm, Shack, Sleepy Hollow, Springfield Penn, Squeaky's Sewer Metropolis, Shorty's Acreage, The Snake Pit, Stage Door, Star Spangled Banana, Stormy Nature, Sub Space, SWAT HQ, Syndicate, T'S, Talons Reach, Taz's Lair, Teddy Bear's Den, Theater of Vampires, Timeless Society, Theives Guild, Tropical Interlude, Under Ground, Universe Next Door, Virtual Reality, Voodoo Lounge, Water Deep, Zinjanthropus...
All of these have some things in common. First, they were all BBS's in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Second, all but two have gone down. Even the boards that had been running for 10 years couldn't withstand what happened in late 1996, early 1997: everyone got the Internet.
It's kind of sad in a way. Over the years, I had spent alot of time calling boards, stirring shit up, becoming so-called 'elite', becoming an Asshole, 'meeting' people, making enemies, and having a good time. Now it is no more. I don't know what's more sad; spending all that time BBS'ing, or having memories I can't revisit, but once could. Such is life, I suppose.
BMC suggested (at 3:00am while drunk) that we all write something about BBS door games for this issue. Well, I realized that I hadn't played as many door games as I had thought at the time. Most of my time was spent doing other things.
I was a member of Quad-P. I don't know how that happened. Quad-P was a decent art group (remember those?) based in the good old 3o6 which produced ansi, ascii, RIP, and anything else that you could think of. I believe I had only released one ansi through them, so I don't know why I was considered an active member.
I was also considered a great S3M (and/or MOD) composer, even though I had only released one publically (it was a re-working of the theme song to Ovide Video). I had offers to do joint compositions, requests for help, and an offer to write the music for a game that was being produced. How the hell does that happen after only releasing one song? Especially when I listen to how the stuff sounds that I wrote back then. But, if you want to hear a recent composition, try downloading the Children of the MoOn mp3.
I was (am?) a member of The Public Assholes (p.a. unit3!), which was (is?) a group dedicated to being a bunch of pricks. If someone we discovered we didn't like came on a board we frequented, we dedicated ourselves to ridding not only that board, but the entire Saskatoon BBS community of that person. This included various forms of harrassment, phone calls, posting that persons' personal details in public places. I know what you're thinking, and I agree... but what do you expect from a group called the Public Assholes?
I ran a decent board (The Anti-Conspiracy Network). It was 28.8 for most of it's life, mainly because it did some warez business; 28.8 being about the fastest you could get back then. At the end, I had designed all the ansi myself, and had written most of the add-on features for the board myself, as well. It was eventually taken down by myself on May 4th, 1996. At the time it was just for a re-tooling, as it was supposed to come back as Unsettling Trend (I still have all the ansi logos and menus for it), but it proved to be permanent. It went down before the great BBS exodus of about a year later, so at least it died with a bit of dignity.
Well, that's it. Bye.
Gladiator Monkeys
by Gnarly Wayne & Physicon
Yeah, my mom had these monkeys. It all started with the sounds from the garage. Looking in, we noticed a HUGE white garbage can with black lettering. It is one of those big square ones, you know, I hope. The city uses them. I hope. If you don't live in a city, travel to one right now, look at these garbage cans and think "Oh, yeah. I get it." Then go home and continue reading. The semi-photon permeable membrane of the garbage can revealed the twisting and writhering forms of devil monkeys (not really devil monkeys, they were just monkeys. But evil. You could tell. You know, by the wayne they were writhering. I hope.). The writing on the garbage was written in Futura Bold, condensed, font size 741. It said "Hey, there are monkeys in here but they are not evil so release them, K?". I said OK. The monkeys swarmed out of the garbage can and ran out of the garage. I tried to stop them by pushing the garage door button but the thing was too slow and man, those were some fast monkeys. I followed the monkeys to a picnic ground with a pit in the ground with torches all around it. My mom ran this place. I hope. The monkeys donned suits of Roman spandex. They were armed with teeth, nails, toes, and shards of broken wax cats. Being non-evil monkeys, they didn't want to fight but my mommy made them. I walked back to the house to relax. The first floor was tile and divided into three pools and one hottub. The first pool was filled with killer whales, the second with giant snapping turtles, and the third was filled with my mothers friends. They were just swimming. This didn't help them, though, because the killer whales just jumped over to the third pool (not all the time, just once or twice a year) and ate people. The giant snapping turtles were much more of a problem because they could just get out of the pool and eat people walking around. My mommy appeared out of no where (or maybe she was always there) and bitched at me for letting the monkeys out. I told her it was her own damn illegal gladiator monkey ring and there was something unethical about forcing them to wear spandex. She grounded for 7 seconds. Then I had to stuff all the monkeys back in the large garbage can. They were swarming around in the garage and I got one and threw it into the garbage can but it just got back out. It got onto my face and clung there like spandex to a shapely monkey's ass.
That was the funniest day of my life.
P.S. We are in Grade for. And we love our moommies.
I'm listening to mellow man ace.
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|T|R|I|P|E| Issue Ten - October 13th, 2002
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website = http://scene.textfiles.com/tripe/tripe.txt
