I just got a message from Bob. And I have to share it with you
worthless bogons. Yeah, YOU, you lawn-chewing Cary-Grantless sod
buster. But first, I should probably explain how I got the message,
'cause it explains a lot. Half you asbestos-filled gobstoppers won't
even read this, and the other half'll just spit on my hairy toes. But
I got told to write, and write I shall.
A few days ago I was sittin' on the toilet, trying to remove some of
the accumulated bodily wastes from my bowels, and meditatin' yet again
on the Lack of Alien Zapola in my life. Where's the damn fry-beams?
No nuclear FUCKING weapons, for Patty's Sake! Not even a lousy 18KT
A-BOMB? Holy crap, Gatman, we've been ripped off, and but GOOD!
Well, I didn't really know what to think. Are we all dupes? Has Stang
been pulling our proverbial...leg? Livin' high on the hog, eatin' the
fruits out of the Alien Sex Goddesses while the rest of us grovel down
in the dirt begging for a LOUSY LIK-N-STICK PAGE?
I personally have waited many, many years for the day. I *knew* the
Aliens would come and fry them Pink Bastards all hollow! I gloried in
it! I laughed at my Pink "friends". I FART ON THEIR GRAVES. I am the
UberMensch! I *LAUGH* at your WOBBLY WEAK-KNEED GENITAL ORIFICES.
But the day passed, and no kerbang. Nada. And since then I've been
wondering, "ARE YOU A FOOL? There's no Bob. There's no Pinks, no
Yetis, no Nazi Hell Creatures. No Patty, and no Potatoe People. We
just all lose equally." Pink ways of being were taking over my life.
Well, to come back to this fateful toilet session, I finally managed
to drop a log, reached for the toilet tissue, and slammed my head into
the wall instead. It felt more like a hand grabbed my ass and rammed
my head into the toilet. Probably did.
But I didn't see no stars...no little nuts rotating around my
head... I saw...Bob.
Yep. You guessed it. Hell, you saw this comin' a mile away, didn't
you? Congratulations! You got your Kindergarten Gold Star. DEAL. It
really did happen.
Of course I won't reveal everything he said. It'd ruin the surprise!
'sides, you don't really care, because there were no alien sex orgies
this time. I AM THE UBERMENSCH. HEAR ME URINATE.
Lots o' weird shit tho, floating pictures of Ronald Reagan and George
Bush, absolutely spasmodic claymation, plastic monsters floating in
spice tanks, swirling lights, and a noise like...well, a toilet
flushing. We're talking Total 80's Flashback.
But here it is.
We're ALL DUPES. Every single fucking, non-fucking, sucking,
non-sucking, cumming and non-cumming Pink Bastard one of us! YOU ARE A
DUPE. YOU HAVE BEEN RIPPED OFF, OVER AND OVER AGAIN.
And Bob is the biggest dupe of all. It's *so damn obvious*.
Stang's been duping us for years. And years. All that total nonsense
in "the Book" is just that. CRAP. ALL LIES. It's the STUFF THAT COMES
OUT OF MY ASS, you scum-sucking rat spawned mutant. You can lick the
inside of my toilet and see better stuff in your SHIT-SPAWNED DREAMS.
But it doesn't...matter! It's a trivial irrelevance in our lives. We
have SLACK. We have BOB. And the ALIENS *ARE* COMING!
I saw'em. Big, nasty things with raybeams that'll turn this planet
into a Molten Cinder in seconds, or set a Pink on fire for weeks at a
time. Gives a whole new meaning to Spontaneous Human Combustion. We're
talkin' torture. Pain. HURT, you stupid MOTHERLESS TUBE-SPAWNED HOTDOG
FETUS. *Looking* at'em made my ears hurt for weeks. Just think what'll
happen to those poor Pinks, gettin' multi-megavolt electric shocks
jammed through what's left of their puny "brains".
All that stuff about July 5, or July 6, or April 31, or whatever the
fuck it is? WHO *WARKING* CARES? It'll happen. Maybe next year. Maybe
tomorrow. But it...WILL...happen!
Bob showed me a New Revised Schedule. Some of the upcoming events
are... well... bizarre ain't the word. Ludicrous? Yeah, that's a
little closer. I'm desperately trying to write it all down, but it's
makin' my head hurt. It will be glorious. This Clinton thing is just
the TIP of the ICEBERG.
We're talkin' TOTAL ANARCHY at the NORTH POLE. A team of PREGNANT
RUSSIAN MIDGETS as President of Earth. ATLANTEAN robots conquering
LICHTENSTEIN and turning it into the KAISER BUN INSTITUTE. Millions of
BELA LUGOSI CLONES. TENDER VITTLES as sex stimulants! Genetically
reengineered SQUIRRELS! NAZI HELL CREATURES living in your UNDERGROUND
U-BOAT, ready to be ACTIVATED at a moment's notice! A two-penised
chicken in EVERY pot. HAWAII FIVE-O reruns.
And if X-Day had really happened on July 6, we'd be missing all
this... and a lot more.
I asked Bob, "Why ME?" I was just the wrong constipated person at the
wrong constipated time. I ASKED, and HE DELIVERED ME. Praise Bob!
Bob
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: drv1@concentric.net (David R. Voth)
Here at the alt.slack Institute our experts are working hard to
determine what made manson@newsguy.com (Bob Manson) write:
<snip>
>We're ALL DUPES. Every single fucking, non-fucking, sucking,
>non-sucking, cumming and non-cumming Pink Bastard one of us! YOU ARE A
>DUPE. YOU HAVE BEEN RIPPED OFF, OVER AND OVER AGAIN.
>
>And Bob is the biggest dupe of all. It's *so damn obvious*.
<snip>
Peace be with you, brother. Peace and tranquility. It is the will of
"Bob". Welcome to alt.slack.
Reverend David Voth
--
Hang up that cell phone and DRIVE THE #$%^&{} CAR!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: terrygibson@rocketmail.com
> And if X-Day had really happened on July 6, we'd be missing all
> this... and a lot more.
>
> I asked Bob, "Why ME?" I was just the wrong constipated person at the
> wrong constipated time. I ASKED, and HE DELIVERED ME. Praise Bob!
> Bob
Welcome Brother Bob, and as one who has felt the
power of the LIES in the pit of his intestines, you
are well entitled to share that conviction with us.
And..ohyeah....it's July 5th......Bob.
-----------== Posted via Deja News, The Discussion Network ==----------
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_------------------------------
From: stang@subgenius.com
But... what about "Bob"?? J.R. "Bob" Dobbs? Where does he fit in? And who is this mysterious Bob you refer to?
Original file name: A Message from Bob
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