From: "Abbess Abyss" <AbbessAbyss@cox.net>
Newsgroups: alt.slack
Date: Wed, Jun 5, 2002 7:47 PM
Well, it's been a while, but I suppose it had to happen.
Somebody had to
say "yes" SOMEtime. My official title isn't
actually "Skidmark counter" in
the boxer shorts testing dep't, but that's close enough.
The first day, they took me to the warehouse. Bleak,
spartan, cavernous, all
very much to my liking. 95% of the coworkers were
Vietnamese-speaking
Vietnamese, which I thought might make for a pleasant
change: everybody
around me clucking and babbling, yet I would have the
luxury of not
comprehending the usual tiresome 'hume topics of husbands,
babies,
landlords, boyfriends-- you guys know what I mean. Plus,
getting shrieked at
for any one of my inevitable fifty mistakes per minute
in a different
sounding version of broken English might prove a little
easier, possibly
even amusing. When have I ever fitted in before? This
time it could be
blamed on something else. The tasks so easy I could
do them in my sleep, so
it might be almost the same as being asleep. Quul.
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAT THE &^&^%$%$##56 WAS I THINKING?!!!!!!!!!
WAHHHHH-HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-HHHHHHHHHHH, THE WORKPLACE
RADIO,
ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I HAVEN'T HAD
TO LISTEN TO **COMMERCIAL RADIO** IN YEARS, AND *NOW*...?!?
AHHHHHHHH!!!!!
NO MATTER WHERE THEY STICK THE DIAL---AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Same 40 or so songs
just begging to be heckled: "BEEN AROUND THE WORLD
AND I-I-I/I CAN'T FIND MY
BABY"?? HE'S RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER AT DAYCARE
WHERE YOU LEFT HIM,
DUHBUCKET!!!!!!!!!!! "BEEN THROUGH THE DESERT ON
A HORSE WITH NO NAME,
CLIPPITY CLOPPETY STRUMPITY BUMPITY"?? SO **NAME
THE HORSE**, YA PUTZ!!!!
and so on, BUT I CAN'T YELL BACK. I CAN'T. Yell. "..."
---
Other highlight:
I sat down outside, on the ground, while on break.
How much of a scandal do you suppose that could cause,
while fully clothed
in opaque jeans? I guess my odd fold of leg (thighs
forward, knees
together, feet out to either side, your classic 'double
jointed' way) caused
quite a buzz. Staring, pointing, "doesn't that
hurrrrrt?". Guess I'd
forgotten a lot about how people react. Again, it's
been a while.
Gratuitous unrelated link:
http://www.azstarnet.com/star/today/20605nstreetsweepersh.html
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: friday@fridayjones.com (Friday Jones)
So now you're Jabbess Jabyss?
--
Who needs children when you have a metal dinosaur?
-- Whelp
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "Abbess Abyss" <AbbessAbyss@cox.net>
"Friday Jones" <friday@fridayjones.com>
wrote in message
news:friday-ya02408000R0506022112010001@news.earthlink.net...
> So now you're Jabbess Jabyss?
The superhero identity. *Poink!* Mwoo-ha-ha..
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: nu_monet@fucking.damn.useless.ISP.com
Abbess Abyss writeseth:
>
>Well, it's been a while, but I suppose it had to
happen.
>Somebody had to say "yes" SOMEtime. My
official title
>isn't actually "Skidmark counter" in the
boxer shorts
>testing dep't, but that's close enough...
>
You've prolly just been hypnotized:
http://politics.guardian.co.uk/green/comment/0,9236,715160,00.html
The fake persuaders...
*******************************
The bottom line is that they used some kind of sneaky
psychological trick to make you *want* to work, by
convincing you that work sucks, that it's a horrible
awful, debilitating, snarking, lung-sucking waste of
your precious bodily fluids.
Just like they're trying to convince me to incriminate
myself with postings by preventing me from accessing
USENET except through some jive-ass html thingy.
Try to get all them little yeller fellas to eat
Big Macs until they throw up. Best of British.
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----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "Abbess Abyss" <AbbessAbyss@cox.net>
<nu_monet@fucking.damn.useless.ISP.com> wrote
in message
news:admf95$d4u$1@news.netmar.com...
> The fake persuaders...
>
> *******************************
>
> The bottom line is that they used some kind of
sneaky
> psychological trick to make you *want* to work,
by
> convincing you that work sucks, that it's a horrible
> awful, debilitating, snarking, lung-sucking waste
of
> your precious bodily fluids.
Ah, if only!, but no such cigar, Cuzz. Nor as influenced
by the mind wave
signals from bathroom cockroaches, either. K's truck
insurance policy
proved USELESS (redundant phrase), so kicking and screaming,
I packed my
little "Mary Hartman! Mary Hartman!" lunchbox,
and...there's no _want_ to
it. But by "Bob" 's spongy, truffley, navel
lint, TEMPORARILY.
>
> Just like they're trying to convince me to incriminate
> myself with postings by preventing me from accessing
> USENET except through some jive-ass html thingy.
That was probably due to my voodoodoo. I kind of like
it when you use bad
words near yer nom, *slobber!*
>
> Try to get all them little yeller fellas to eat
> Big Macs until they throw up. Best of British.
Nice one, Mr. Ghandi.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: SubGenius Spice <SGSpice@safe-mail.netnoise>
"Abbess Abyss" wanted alt.slack to know:
> so kicking and screaming, I packed my
>little "Mary Hartman! Mary Hartman!" lunchbox,
and...
hopefully full of chicken soup. you might NEED IT.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Her Ladyship Lilith von Fraumench <lilith@ZubJenius.com>
You have my condolences, even as I look for one of those
j-word
thingies myself.
Her Ladyship Lilith
--
\m/ -=8=- http://lilith.foolspress.com/ -=8=- \m/
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "Rev. Ivan Stang" <stang@subgenius.com>
In article <NqxL8.7473$TV4.615438@news1.west.cox.net>,
Abbess Abyss
<AbbessAbyss@cox.net> wrote:
> The first day, they took me to the warehouse. Bleak,
spartan, cavernous, all
> very much to my liking. 95% of the coworkers
were Vietnamese-speaking
> Vietnamese, which I thought might make for a pleasant
change: everybody
> around me clucking and babbling, yet I would have
the luxury of not
> comprehending the usual tiresome 'hume topics of
husbands, babies,
> landlords, boyfriends-- you guys know what I mean.
Plus, getting shrieked at
> for any one of my inevitable fifty mistakes per
minute in a different
> sounding version of broken English might prove
a little easier, possibly
> even amusing. When have I ever fitted in before?
This time it could be
> blamed on something else. The tasks so easy I
could do them in my sleep, so
> it might be almost the same as being asleep. Quul.
GOD DAMN IT!! Jesus and Magdalen must have opened another
SubGenius
Foundation branch while I was on vacation, without telling
me!
>
> AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> WHAT THE &^&^%$%$##56 WAS I THINKING?!!!!!!!!!
> WAHHHHH-HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-HHHHHHHHHHH, THE WORKPLACE
RADIO,
> ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I HAVEN'T HAD
> TO LISTEN TO **COMMERCIAL RADIO** IN YEARS, AND
*NOW*...?!? AHHHHHHHH!!!!!
> NO MATTER WHERE THEY STICK THE DIAL---AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Same 40 or so songs
> just begging to be heckled: "BEEN AROUND THE
WORLD AND I-I-I/I CAN'T FIND MY
> BABY"?? HE'S RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER AT DAYCARE
WHERE YOU LEFT HIM,
> DUHBUCKET!!!!!!!!!!! "BEEN THROUGH THE DESERT
ON A HORSE WITH NO NAME,
> CLIPPITY CLOPPETY STRUMPITY BUMPITY"?? SO
**NAME THE HORSE**, YA PUTZ!!!!
> and so on, BUT I CAN'T YELL BACK. I CAN'T. Yell.
"..."
I hear you, sister. These Vietnamese bastards around
me REFUSE to turn
down the Drs. for "Bob" CD. There's only one
but that's the only thing
they've played in 7 YEARS.
--
4th Stangian Orthodox MegaFisTemple Lodge of the Wrath
of Dobbs Yeti,
Resurrected (Rev. Ivan Stang, prop.)
P.O. Box 181417, Cleveland, OH 44118 (fax 216-320-9528)
A subsidiary of:
The SubGenius Foundation, Inc. / P.O. Box 204206, Austin,
TX 78720-4206
Dobbs-Approved Authorized Commercial Outreach of The
Church of the SubGenius
SubSITE: http://www.subgenius.com
For SubGenius Biz & Orders: call toll free to 1-888-669-2323
or email: jesus@subgenius.com
PRABOB
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