Many people have been known to say "What IS a SubGenius?" These are
obviously either Newbies with their first membership package still wet
behind the groin or wretched outsiders who will always be just another
link in the Great Sausage String of Destiny. The very IDEA of trying to
DEFINE the term is a cosmic insult UNBOUNDED. If we could BE defined, we
wouldn't be SUBGENIUSES!! SubGeniusHood is the very ESSENCE of living a
life consumed by the motto "I don't know what the fuck you CALL that,
but it SURE FEELS GOOD!!" I swear by Saint Susie's Ground-Zero G-Spot,
all it takes is the NERVE and a TONGUE with a big MUSCLE in the middle
that you can FLEX to scare off the ZOMBIES!!
The Church doesn't care if you have a VERY intimate relationship with
a sheep named Becky Boom-Boom. The Church does not care if you wear a
latex fun-butt strapped onto yer prong at all times and keep a spare one
in yer backpack. And while The Church prefers that you not squirt KY
Jelly all over the place as a rule, even THAT can be alright, because
while falling down can be BAD, we're the very BEST THERE IS at getting
back UP again and THAT'S GROOVALICIOUS! And we WILL get back up, AGAIN
AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, because just laying there is for PINKS!!
The Church does not care if you're hetero-, homo-, polygamous,
polyamourous, polyvinyl, Poly-Wolly-DIDDLE-All-The-Day, devoted to
suckin' Satan's seventy-five-headed sex sausage or in a transitional
phase somewhere in between ALL of the above! No, children, what counts
is your MUWARRGH factor, that oh-so-hard-to-define yet
instantly-recognizable SOMEthing that makes you US instead of THEM!! If
someone asks if you're a boy or a girl, just say YES!!! A sterling young
wag on "The Red Green Show" once said "Hey DORK! PICK A GENDER!!" Well,
we here at The Church don't give a flying SHIT about that as a LIFESTYLE
choice; just pick a gender FOR THE CONVENIENCE OF THE MOMENT and let
DOBBS do the rest! (And if they pass out in the wrong position, Dobbs
WILL do 'em, rest assured!)
In fact, The Church counts among its members some of the finest,
scariest, 3-balled homos in the UNknown Universe! A couple of 'em are
SHORT little fuckers who'll bite yer BALLS off if you look at 'em wrong!
What counts is that they're long in the dong, tall in the saddle and a
sight to behold on the Tower of Power with a Crisco chaser! Even if a
few of 'em are raging, lavender queens, THEIR MONEY'S STILL GREEN and
THEIR WILLINGNESS TO GIVE IT UP IS ALL THAT COUNTS!!
"Bob" loves ALL the little SubChildren, even the undecanted, the
gene-spliced and the terminally pock-marked! The key SubFactor that
defines ALL ELSE WE DO or SCREW is that when you gaze upon the glowing
countenance of a fellow Sub for the first time, a huge, fireworks-like
resonance envelops you both as you look at one another and say "YOU
wanna see the heads of your Normal tormentors applied to a BOLO we'll
use to take out the first goddamned float in the fucking Macy's
ThanksGRABBING Parade? ME TOO!!!"
We pause in the middle of this rant for an important message:
FRIENDS, IF YOU WANNA GET STINKIN', LAUGHIN', PUKIN', FALLIN' DOWN,
PISS-YER-PANTS STEWED, THEN OLD UNCLE "BOB'S" COMBINATION ARTHRITIS
REMEDY AND SNAKE BITE CURATIVE IS THE BOOZE FOR *YOU*!!! HAW HAW HAW
HAW!!!! And now, back to our rant.
Now "Bob" IS a special case who sometimes uses a band saw for a cock
ring, which isn't really something most of us would seriously consider,
since we can't grow back a cock like a lizard's tail, but THAT'S WHY
HE'S "BOB!" Your money never shines so brightly as when you invoke the
name of Rev. Stang's puckered, peppery pickle and stuff those dollars in
"Bob's" G-string!!
All the Church requires (beyond your precious CASH, that is) is that
you agree, upon your honor, your life's blood and your hookah filled
with peppermint schnapps, to STOMP THE UNMITIGATED SHIT OUT OF THE
PINKS!!!! Yes, whether you're stuffing gelignite up their tailpipes or
or their car exhausts or merely momentarily devoting yourself to some
minor skullbuggery that creatively edges THEM slightly closer to the day
that they start CLAWING at their faces, making GOBBLING noises down in
the back of their throats and running straight through a plate-glass
WINDOW seven floors up, your first General Order of the Dobbs is to
wreak the Untold Havoc of the Quintuply Blessed Insaniac, praise "BOB!"
Some might be squeamish about actually KILLING, but that's OK, there's
an AWFUL lot of range in simple TORMENT!
Regardless of the Pink abuse, disappointment or outright dumbfuckery to
which you are subjected, keep this uppermost in whatever you have that
passes for a mind: We *ARE* *BETTER* than THEY are, because we don't TRY
to control JACK SHIT! WE LET IT ALL FLOW, SQUEAL AND SQUIRT AS IT WAS
*MEANT* TO!!! We're better at fightin', fornicatin', PhotoShop-diddlin',
philanderin', rantin', musicatin', hackin', whackin', hacky-sackin',
gene-splicin', FROP-dicin', break-dancin', romancin', roulette-chancin'
and hobnail-boot-on-yer-HEAD-stampin' than any of THEM will EVER be!!!
THAT'S why THEY *HATE* Us and why WE have the right to make SHISKE"BOB"
out of their genitalia!
Thus, you are COMPELLED to live by the maxim we all know and love,
that a mere $30 a year will CODIFY, GLORIFY and most importantly,
JUSTIFY your sins, Dobbs without end A-MEN, A-WOMEN and A-BOMB!! As
Saint Robin Williams once said, "Keep the spirit of madness in ya,
'cause no one in all the WORLDS knows how to tax THAT!!" Friends, no
words that ever came from a mouth other than that of Sweet Dobbs hisself
are more true.
So rage against the dying light by igniting the phosphorus flare of
"BOB" and throwing it straight into the GASOLINE storage facilities of
the goddamned NORMALS!! Its your best and BRIGHTEST hope for holding the
line against being left to sit at home alone and MASTURBATE over "WWF
Smackdown," wondering where the PARTY is and why a shot of Stone Cold
Steve Austin's nipples gives you a friggin' STIFFY!! All you have to
lose is your inhibitions and a mere $30, all in the name of the GREATEST
CAUSE IN THE *UN*KNOWABLE UNIVERSE-The Church OF the SubGenius. If you'd
like to cement that wisdom forever in yer heart, there are t-shirts
available in the lobby. And here, my children endeth the lesson.
HellPope Huey,
Absinthe, FropCigs and an Elvis PB-&-Bacon Hoagie
14030675214$30$30$30$30K
"You just want to see Father's vitals on a bed of lettuce
and you don't care how it happens."
- "The Lion In Winter"
"A young boy in Harlem sits at a computer in the library, obviously
exhilarated by the experience. When asked why, he says 'Because it
doesn't know I'm black.' We are only as close to one another as we wish
to be."
- Roger Rosenblatt
"Did ya'll hear what Mama said?
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Original file name: Fundie SubDoctŠs Newbies #88
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