From jagular@webtv.net Sat Jan 17 16:44:12 1998

Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: Feeling Minnesota

From: jagular@webtv.net (Dudly Doright)

Date: Sat, 17 Jan 1998 18:44:12 -0600

take this slack and shove it. Forged from a glistening green vein of

h8red, tempered with virgin white intolerance, and cooled in the

cathodeeyes of my tv dad, I wield the mighty sword of idiocentricism.

With my virtual army of vague recollections, and half remembered

promises, I go forth to do battle wth the spirits of my 4 fathers.

Feint, thrust, parry, dodge ram 4by and I'm gone. cruisin down the road

tryn' ta shoot my load i've got seven nipples on my mind. I liked the

damn book so much I bought the compony...or I would have but with all

the postals goin postal and the church growin like a virtual herpe on my

temporary autoerogenous zone I figured THEY would'nt process my

contribution until late july or early august so I saved that 30$ U.S

fund and fearmarked it for the church. I felt confident that I was COOL

with "BOB"... I was damn wrong. I was stone cold wrong. With the passing

of autumn into unemployment I found myself free falling through my

bankbook, kicking out funds like so many starveing orphans. Suddenly I

was at my last 30$U.S. So with my processed cash substitute I took that

jing. Yes I took that dirty filthy pstinking money and I went home. I

asked myself questons, damn questions. But it ws'nt enough "I mean after

all what has bob done for me?" I floundered. "And do'nt the proceeds

from these boks go to the charity of bob's choice" I rationalized. And

then it hit me. Yes it got rightthefuk up and smacked me with the Lead

Filled Whak Bonk of Reenlightenment. And as i layed there stunned I

heard for the first time the sonic hypnoresonance of all the appliances

in my fathers Throne of Home. And from this caterwailing rose a voice, a

voice like a thousand hamster wheels at a thousand rpm's, it called to

me, it soothed me with the chainsaw carress only a lumberjack could

deliver, and I was lifted on high, freed of my mortal shell station. The

voice then serviced me in a way that defies mere aural pleasure, and

when it came time for it to come time to, it did, and it was wonderful,

and with my little womb raiders out flowed my affliction, for my patient

audience, this pyrogasm as I now reefer to it, was a sort of supermodel

style binge and purge,complete wth all of the wonderful binging and all

of the pus laden purging. But what lay before me shocked and appalled

me, for it was SLACK!! That very entity that I most desired was the root

of my aintgotnoBoB-itis. I came erect, imploring the voice to explain

this. And again the voice serviced me, but this time when my cum came It

genitally fluttered and floated throgh the ether and came to rest in the

pupil of my right eye. Only then did I see the filth and corruption that

had infected my slack, a little pink cell had attached itself to my

appendix, and was causing me to develop a condition known as "If it's

good enough for them I want it for free." And thats why I was down to my

last 30$U.S. I was a Pinkboy Slackhole sucking from those around me like

a karmik sponge never releasing the slack I had and causing my little

actual slack allotment to fester and blacken And then I woke up with my

pants around my ankles, a bottle of extra course exfoliant in my right

hand, and my chextra card in the other, and I knew what needed to be

done. I sprang from the corner of my bed and tripped into the dressor

cracking my head open and causing the dressor to tip over onto my new

IBM smashing it only to reveal the address for my salvation and half a

creamfilled donut from the night before. And now I know my pstech is on

its way to a post office box in sunny dallastexas as it should be. If

only I had had enough $ for priority mail...