Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: Re: PraVodka

From: (Popess Lilith von Fraumench)

Date: Mon, 24 Nov 1997 23:10:38 GMT


In article <>, "Rev. Boblight" <> wrote:

>Steve Gomolski wrote:

>> I was just wondering, when the saucers come in July and we have a wealth

>> of futuristic science to play with in our countless slack hours, what

>> possible combinations of the genetic puzzle will we see fit to play with

>> based on our Yeti forknowledge of how shit should work?


>It is a common misunderstanding of Post-Apocalyptologists that those of

>us who will be Ruptured will maintain today's harsh laws of physical

>reality. Such seemingly rigid constraints as "genetics," "relativity,"

>and "causality" will be seen as mere CUSTOMS - quaint "traditions" that

>our Xist bwanas allow us to keep so as not to spoil our innocence.


>That said, I'm going to start photosynthesizing on July 6 and then start

>working on chitinous space armor.


All right, now THIS is a plan. And oddly enough I've been contemplating my own

particular changes. Most likely, during the two years the Xists will stay on

Earth.... YES, TWO YEARS. Jeez, you folks don't even READ the fine print on

those damn contracts and mattress tags, do you? If it weren't for me POINTING

OUT THE OBVIOUS YET AGAIN, you'd probably think The Conspiracy is run by

people instead of inertia, or that "Bob" gives a shit about anything but his

profits, or that 'Frop is some hip nickname for a common street drug, or any

of that blown-dry frizzled bleached curled foppery they put on the heads of

those little kiddies that wander off the street, going, "Praise "Bob", hyuk!"




No, wait, I can't forget. Shit.


All right, so as I was saying before I rudely interrupted myself, I'll likely

do the Amazonian Goddess bit, for the rubes--seven feet tall, extra portions

of teat, maybe plump up the cuntlips a bit and rearrange the penii in more

orderly rows about the rim, and a few other minor modifications. Modest start,

yes. Oh, and a bony "needle" where my navel currently is, for those times when

I got to eat-and-run. Maybe some extra arms. And I might get around to

installing those Paper Lungs that Pope Phred was talking about.


Once I'm off-planet I've got a few idears to play with. For example, it might

be fun if I make myself all fingers. Just a big mass of fingers with a central

nervous system. All sorts of fingers, wiggly and ready for wriggling. Then I'd

learn how to turn myself inside-out so I can get someone INSIDE, with all the



I better stop--this is better than thinking about bug sex.






| Popess Lilith von Fraumench | Fools' Press |

| Hangnail Of the Stark Fist | 1122 E Pike St, #769 |

| Sadomasticist At Large | Seattle, WA 98122-3934 |

|"Spiting the Gods since 1989"| |

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