Subject: Concept clearance sale via St. Kirk Bailey of Tampa:
>>Gang, if we are against something, and for something, we need some
focus?
Aw, what does FOCUS have to do with "Bob?" I thought a certain style of
BLURRINESS and gang-justification thereof *WAS* the goal.
>>What are we against?
George Bush and everyone who even intimated that I should pee in a cup.
Regis & Kathy Lee, a real nightmare, Neon Pink, on TV in numerous
mutated forms AND filthy rich. RELIGION as opposed to SPIRITUALITY.
Prick-teasers. Mimeograph machines. Formerly-treasured vinyl records
that tipped over into sounding like a rock tumbler full of glass.
Screaming larvae in F-Mart and their bovine progenitors. Organized
sports, except as a stadium-targeting utility for lessening the sheer
numbers of the mindless. The Law as popularly practiced, wherein Money
matters more than people, the Rules are both needlessly complex AND
arbitrary and victims are merely an annoyance. "Friends," which persists
against all reason. Jerry Seinfeld, I HATE him. Nhee Ghee, of course.
People who are _____ enough to fill a metal tube with aerosol, lodge a
potato in the end and then LIGHT the whole mess; I know a guy with half
a FACE from doing that, so nix that crap. Club owners who change The
Deal at the last minute on some assholish Pink whim. Long-winded
pontificators. Anything beyond a minimal level of bad manners
attributable to Pink things. Christians who would make JESUS puke.
Carob. The new quarters that are so debased, vending machines cough them
up as often as not, just like right before Rome fell, when you could
leave a toothmark in Caesar's inbred face and the Gladiator Cola
machines usually just ate your money anyway. Bullies, especially
faceless digital ones. Giant gas bills. QVC. Po'bucker Arkies without a
brain in their got-damned heads. Hemorrhoids. Other drivers in general.
Yowling cats @ 5 a.m. My damaged toe. The new McShit sandwich. Unpitted
olives. "Chewy" milk.
>>(the Con, doofus! OK, what does that mean? What do they stand for?)
See above. "The Con" essentially means anything that adds to The Work
Load with no appreciable gain in generalized profit OR specified Slack.
It means they're MEAN and anti-FUN, especially where certain strains of
Fun get The Job done more effectively. They only know what an orgasm is
in a clinical sense, because they've never EARNED one and mystically
derive from THAT that they should do all in their power to keep YOU from
having any MORE of them! Why do you think they LOCK UP the damned OFFICE
supplies when for a mere $25 a month more in take-home pay, you'd BUY
your OWN damned pens! I sure dunno; theirs are cheapos that leak like
yer granny anyway. They HATE you for understanding The Skor and ENJOYING
it; its the all-consuming hatred of those not Blessed. THEY stand for
anything that gives them the meager satisfaction of crapping on the
playing field, even if they slip and end up sitting in the shit WITH
you. Entropists should be neutered with vise-grips and a tow-motor.
In a word, They stand for any kind of SHIT besides the kind that can be
used to fertilize useful crops or pretty chrysandethunududiniums. If its
a BAD thing, they'll penalize you for not BUYING it at 27% interest,
compounded by the nano-second. See 'entropists' above.
>>What are we for?
(duh...)
KY Jelly and lots of it. A good cigar after dinner. Cars that act like
they need an engine rebuild and then only require a $53 rocker arm
assembly gasket job to quell the flow of oil that was laying down a
James-Bondian smoke screen when the stuff fell on the manifold exhaust
pipe. Susie and Sister Decadence. REAL chocolate, that's a gimme. Still
having fairly broad frequency range hearing @ 45 despite years of
noizmusic and Pinkdom. Xistmas gifts like chattering skulls, chocolate
oranges and large art books by superior Japanese artists who are
obsessed with beautiful women, sometimes represented as mermaids or
subjects being fucked by giant squids. A small lump of C-4. Any
reasonable level of porn short of child abuse, rape or actual blood.
Music, even the crap we make fun of in appreciation of the good stuff.
Synthesizers, mostly. Rants that knock flies and mosquitoes unconscious.
Nude wrestling, especially WITH Susie and Sis D, covered IN chocolate,
while listening TO music. Ukeleles played through a Big Muff fuzz and a
stack of big amps. LANACANE. Stable software. Modern antibiotics,
beseiged & misused though they are. Stang. "BOB." Grotty pop culture
icons. Toys. FOX cartoons. 9mm Glocks, when called for. F.R.O.P.sicles.
Ether. Raw cash. Short-term memory loss. "BOB." Doin' the nude Macarena
with April. Battery-powered rotating lollipops with Godzilla heads. Tiny
butane torches. Holographic ANYTHING. Being UNlike THEM, no matter WHAT
the cost. Sausage. A quart of FRESH, COLD milk and 4 Hostess orange
cupcakes. John Waters. "Brown" clubs in Amsterdam. XLR connectors. Crown
Royal. Bruce Willis killing John Travolta in "Pulp Fiction." "Spawn"
figures. Fish sticks. Did I mention titties?
>>We need to clarify this. We need to (ahem) 'have a ready ansswer'.
Hmph, what good has "clarity" ever done ME!? I have more clarity than a
gross of AS400s and I'm still stuck wearing THESE pants. Sorry, but part
of the SubGenius mystique goes against the grain of ANY "ready answer;"
THEY MUST LISTEN for at LEAST 15 minutes or the .exe program won't
install properly. (Its not always the same download from case to case,
either.) If they don't go home and eventually wonder "Who IS this 'Bob'
guy, anyway?," we've failed. Which is OK in a relative sense, because I
loved "Bob" immediately, deeply and permanently after the St. Bernard
Dog-Penis-In-A-Shadow-Box segment of the "Sex, Sickness & Slack" Media
Barrage. Rapidity of uptake is just ONE of the many gifts of The
SubGenius, although many turn out like O. Henry's "Gift of the Magi."
You sell your watch fob, I sell my hair, we liquidate our house and buy
a lotta Nair, the goobers draw boat hooks, we swim in the blood, its a
treat to dip yer feet in the Mississippi mud!
HellPope Huey,
I'm Not Crazy, YOU're Too SANE!
"Thanks for decent, church-goin' women with their
mean, pinched, bitter, evil faces
Thanks for 'Kill A Queer For Christ' stickers.
Thanks for a country where nobody's allowed to mind
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
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