/| |\ Hi, I'm Satan. | | | | oh? Mogel asked me to introduce \`\ /'/' this issue of HOE. I don't \ `---------' / oh! really have much to say, / /\ /\ \ honestly. I am not affiliated | '' `` | ohh!! with this stupid text file \ ` ' / group. It's complete trash. `\ /' .. .. .. `\ /' || || || Some people say that I'm evil, ___/'`---'`\___ \\_||_// but I never produced a single / \ \ / shitty, torturous e-zine into | H O E | | | the world. People have never been forced to read my trite bullshit. This may suggest that, in some ways, people like Mogel (and perhaps the editor of Newsweek), are more evil than I. Please remember that next time you label me, okay? L8r. . HEY. . . . : YOU LOOKIN' FOR SOME TEXT FILES???????? : : : : I SAID: YOU LOOKIN' FOR SOME TEXT FILES??????? : : : : STRAIGHT FROM THE PIT I HAVE RISEN : : : : SUCKIN' YA SUCKIN' YA DOWN DOWN DOWN : : : : TO THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF E'ZINE HELL : : : : ...this is.... : : : : : . $$"""b. s$ .d"""b. $$"""b. .d"""b. $$"""b. ### .-----. . . $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ ##### |.---.| . $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ ##### || 2 || . $$sss" $$ $$ $$sss" $$"""$$ $$ $$ ### |`---'| . $$"""b. $$ $$ $s$$ $$"""b. $$ $$ $$ $$ `-----' . $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ . $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ (BIG BAD #2!!!) $$sssT" $$ "TsssT" $$sssT" $$ $$ $$sssT" HOE #1100 6-16-00 I CAN'T QUITE RELATE TO IT I CAN'T QUITE RELATE TO IT I CAN'T QUITE RELATE .......................................................................... __ ohhhh!!!!!1 Which badly / /| written file // / | will YOU / / / | 1. And God Spake all these words, saying, like? / / / /| | 2. I am the LORD thy God, which have brought / /__/ / | | thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the / /| | / | | house of bondage. /// | | | / | 3. Thou shalt have no other gods before me. | | | | / |_ 4. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven | | | |/ / / \ image, or any likeness of any thing that | | | / / t \ is in heaven above, or that is in earth \ | | / / r g \ beneath, or that is in the water under \ |___|/ / e f b \ the earth. /______ / w d v /\ /| 5. Thou shalt not bow down to them | _____ |\ q s c / / / nor serve them: for I the LORD || =|| \a x / / / thy God am a jealous God, ||-----|| \z \/ / visiting the inquity of the ||_____|| \ / / fathers upon the children unto |_______|_______| / the third and forth generation of them that hate me; 6. And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments. 7. Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain; ____________ for the LORD will not him guiltless that taketh his name |of course i | in vain. |still loved | 8. Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. |her, who | 9. Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work. |wouldn't? | 10. But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy god; |she said,"I | in it thou shalt not work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy |love you." | daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservent, nor thy |I said, "I | cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates: |love you | 11. For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the |too, but I | sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh |really can | day: wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and |not see us | hallowed it. |staying | 12. Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days be long |together." | upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee. |She agreed. | 13. Thou shalt not kill. |We named | 14. Thou shalt not commit adultery. |our child | 15. Thou shalt not steal. |after a | 16. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. |Danish | 17. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house, thou shalt |model turned| not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his manservant, nor |actress | his maidservant, nor his ox, nor hiss ass, nor any |named Anna | thing that is thy neighbor's. |Karina. A | 18. And all the people saw the thunderings, and the |really cute | lightnings, and the noise of the trumpet, and the |baby, and it| mountain smoking and when the people saw it, they |was my own | removed, and stood afar off. |flesh. | 19. And they said unto Moses, Speak thou with us, and we |____________| will hear, but let not God speak with us, lest we die. WHAT YOU GONNA DO WHEN YOU GET OUTTA JAIL / i'm gonna do a remix streets bruise as easily as flesh just not vice versa | HI! | kisses here and there |_| |_| and everywhere small children and dogzz * ask for sex on my front lawn I refuse to _____ give it to them /\/\//\/\/\ | | | | | ( ) | ---| | ___| | ___| | |___ -------- DON'T HAVE A COW MAN | | EAT MY SHORTS |_______/ EYE CARMUMBA I'LL BE IN MY ROOM -------- Y0|_| />0/\/+ |her neck< I brought it down to 3 inches diameter she died with her eyes lolling SO MANY COLORFUL PHRASES SO LITTLE TIME ohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!! Date: Thu, 16 Mar 2000 14:44:34 EST From: MISSE378@aol.com To: mogel@hoe.nu WELL HELL IS BEING LIVED IN AS WE SPEEK, COME ON KNOW, YOU HAVE TO ADMIT, NOTHING CAN BE ANY WORSE THEN WHAT WE ARE LIVING IN NOW, THERE ARE KIDS KILLING KIDS, SONS AND DAUGHTERS KILLING THERE PARENTS, EVEN OUR LAW SYSTEM CAN NOT BE TRUSTED, IF HELL WAS TO BE DEFINED, IT SHOULD BE LIFE ON EARTH, NOT SAYING THAT MY LIFE IS HELL, BUT READ THE PAPER, TAKE A LOOK OUTSIDE, THIS WORLD IS NOT HOW GOD INTENDED IT TO BE, WE AS THE PEOPLE HAVE TO BRING IT BACK, WE HAVE TO TEACH OUR CHILDREN THAT THEY ARE IN FACT ONLY CHILDREN, AND TO RESPECT THIER ELDERS NOT KILL THEM OFF, THE WORLD IS A SAD PLACE, AGAIN DEFINED AS HELL IN MY BOOK, WE ARE ALL STRIVING TO GET TO THE PARADISE THAT WE ALL DREAM ABOUT, I BELIEVE THAT WE WILL ALL MEET THERE ONE DAY THE RICH, THE POOR, THE YOUNG THE OLD THE BAD AND THE GOOD, GOD LOVE US ALL. CYA IN HEAVEN. ohhh!! ohhh!!!!1 And that's the question ya should've been askin', man. What is YOUR personal hell? "Being forced to watch an endless marathon of 'meet the contestants' Jeopardy! segments." - Mr A Jim "I would be driving with all new tires, then *BAM* I would get a flat, then I'd get a new tire and *BAM* another one would blow. repeat." - Alicia "Lack of cats." - TanAdept "My personal hell would be... a world with no HOE!!!" - Totsirol@aol.com " my mind. " - Anjee "Going through life unloved by the flesh of a woman :~(" - xXx_Droo "My personal hell would be being on IRC 24/7." - Crabit "Living in a house where I can never be at peace--with a total lack of concentration... where I cannot just sit and enjoy something, but am always plagued by some sort of fear or suspense." - Dagolith "Having my arms & legs fastened to the rear of a big orange Schneider semi truck travelling along interstate 39 & being immediately followed by a mint-green ford festiva carrying a mounted television showing videotaped highlights of my day-to-day life in rockford, illinois." - Trilobyte "Seeing full-page ads in the New York Times for companies headed by idiots i talked to confs on just a few years ago. No wait. That was just how I spent yesterday morning." - Cstone "Being chained to the table for an never-ending marketing meeting." - Krnl "HAVING SEX WITH CAITLIN" - Jamesy "Trapped in a basement with N'sync, and being forced to teach them Perl and SQL." - Imbrogilo "Being stuck in a remote cabin for a week surrounded by stupid stoner kids who listen to Sugar Ray and Korn. I don't know if that's my real answer. I'd have to think about it. I mean, it's hard to think seriously about it, in a SERIOUS WAY. Obviously I'd be more distraught by seeing my mom raped and skinned or something rather than hanging out with stoners." - Basehead "Too personal to discuss." - Ingy OH EVERYBODY SING "OH SAY HAPPY DAY" TO THE SPECIAL AWARD WINNER BELOW!!!!1 Date: Thu, 16 Mar 2000 15:23:09 From: Max Graves To: mogel@hoe.nu I am living my own personal hell right now... it is called LIFE. Waking up everyday, realizing that I am not dead... HELL. Going to school and seeing all the people wearing their masks of happiness and bullshit... HELL. Trying to get somewhere in a society that abides by a strict set of rules to make us all mindless sheep robots... HELL. Trying to be nice to people, and make friends while fighting the hatred and disgust inside... HELL. Watching people act stupid so they can fit in... HELL. Being stupid so I can thus be accepted... HELL. There are only a few true facts in this world. One: everybody is a hypocrite. Two: everyone stereotypes. Three: money rules all... HELL. Imagine living to die, coexisting with existence, just to reach non-exisitence. Welcome to my hell. I hate everyone and I write like shit, but that's reality and reality is my hell... what do I know anyways? I'm just a worthless faggot in a world of slut whores... Peace Out. -Max Graves Date: Fri, 17 Mar 2000 18:14:07 GMT From: "Nina ..." To: mogel@hoe.nu it would probably be burning hot so everyone can wear a bathing suit.... or a birthday suit for that matter. and there would be non-stop parties for the members of the "club", those are the people who lived their lives to their full potential and not by the bible, like for ppl who KNOW how to have FUN!!!!!! and there'd be like torture chambers all over, cause they are like so kinky and gooood!!!! lol and then i'd have dorito smokey red bbq chips served and hot baths and everything hot! so it would be like this freaky sex lair with all "evil" ppl and stuff.... yup that's my dream! Date: Wed, 22 Mar 2000 17:55:14 -0600 (CST) From: Glynis To: Mogel this is actually a math problem assigned for homework. MATH problem. and no, i'm not in 8th grade. 30. VISITING THE NATIONAL DEBT. In the case study on the national debt, we found that it would make a stack of $1 bills about 1 million kilometers tall. Suppose that you could fly through space along this stack of money in a 747 airplane. Assuming a speed of 1000 km/hr (620 mi/hr), how long would the flight take? Write one or two paragraphs that use your results to put the national debt in perspective. you've got to be kidding me. this class is called NUMERACY, and not only is the math involved incredibly simple, but now i have to write two paragraphs putting the national debt into perspective. ARE YOU SERIOUS? Date: Wed, 22 Mar 2000 01:38:19 EST From: Jrblack214@aol.com To: mogel@hoe.nu I suppose that I should talk about how pure I am and how I have been such a loving mother and good provider to my child, and a hard worker, this was not the case. I have already been through hell in really bad relationships, living in poverty and trying to make something of myself in a world where people are ashamed to even say they are "white" anymore. I got really pissed off the other day when I did my census form. It is none of the governments damn business what color I am, white people get screwed because they are white. I couldn't get day care for my son because there was no funding for white families, only Hispanic, Asian and African Americans, and the school I work at is total affirmative action whether they will admit to it or not. so I feel like the minority in my own country. Anyone heard of a white entertainment network lately??? The white panthers?? the Caucasian scholarship program?? I am not racist as some may think but what about our rites to white pride?? does this offend you? I think that all of the people of ethnic backgrounds other than white think we have it so good and I just wanted to say that we have it but what do we really have besides pale ass skin???? I would have voted for Collin Powell (excuse me if that is the wrong spelling) if he ran for president because I thought he would do a good job, not because he was black. just a thought. Date: Sun, 19 Mar 2000 22:51:07 -0500 (EST) From: harri131@pilot.msu.edu To: mogel@hoe.nu Having to read all these lame HOE special release files on a common topic. This is my generic ultra-hip ezine answer. In reality however, pokemon, the backdoor boys and stupid people are merely nuisances. There are far worse things in the universe than being surrounded by 8 year old kids screaming gibberish like "pikachu" and "Jizzathon". Imagine having your brain constantly flooded with millions of sensations, Moving and changing so quickly that your mind cannot keep up. All you want is sleep, but it's not coming. Soul-Death... Nothingness... is prayed for... -Darks1de Briefing 0700 HOURS Listen up, troops! We here at HOE have decided that we're going to declare WAR on the timeless force of mediocrity, and though we know this battle can never be won, we'd rather die with our teeth gritted and the gorey remains of our friends splattered across our impending consciousness. We aren't going to sit around and grow fat. No, we're rallying to the white canes, and we're taking our vicious battle style to the streets. We're slapping down our own bastard offspring, that paragon of the putrid, Anada. No more will we tolerate the rambling booshwah ethic of mass marketed pop artistry slashing across the only medium that remains pure and uncorrupted by Fifth Avenue suits: the text file. At HOE, our paramilitary efforts have brought us to only one conclusion: that it's better to die in our footsteps. We have declared war on these vile pigs and their mediocre efforts which time and time again make the most horrible smells. So we strap on the G.I. Joe battle gear and strip off the mask of Cobra Commander only to reveal that his days as a used car salesman are over, and that his son Billy has escaped with Zartan. Are you hearing me, you sorry assholes? Did you eat the banana yet, you sick fucking animals? We are bringing down the entire power structure onto our own shoulders. The law of the land has been mediocrity for too long and only at HOE can the truth be known; that binary opposition between GOOD and BAD is meaningless; that they are the same thing; that the only enemy is mediocrity; that the religion of our time has made us too unworldly and forced us to lose the taste of blood. Atomic bomb explodes over Hiroshima August 6th, 1945 and no one yet knows how many died from the Chernobyl accident, but we do know one solid truth: that these anada files sucked and that we made them better. This may be our last transmission; we're going into the jungles of Peru and we're going to pull down the temples of Machu Pichu, knowing that the Aztec gods were mediocrity in excelcius. -AIDS/Kobek.Com President/HOE Assistant Editor --------------------THA DIRECT RESPONSE: OHHH!!!!------------------------ ON WAR by Effy "War is as anachronistic as cannibalism, slavery and colonialism." --Rosalie Bertell, of the Horizon Electronic Magazine for IRPA (International Peace Research Association) As the sole neutral representer of opposing sides of this dark time in the history of our culture, I would like to take a few moments to lament on this atrocious situation that is now very obviously directly affecting our day to day lives. It makes me sad to witness such ugly belligerence in a once so peaceful environment. This massive dispute, this veritable civil war between Hoe and Anada is taking its toll on us, and could quite possibly end with major consequences, such as the destruction of ezine culture as it is known today. Every night before I go to bed, I pray to our holy mother Mogel that light will be shed upon our fingertips, and those who oppose each other will only have kind words to say from that day forward. I then dream of a text file world where we do not need to claw at each other's throats and gnaw at each other's weaknesses in order to be humorous, in order to be accepted, to gain rank and power. "We here at HOE have decided that we're going to declare WAR on the timeless force of mediocrity...We're slapping down our own bastard offspring, that paragon of the putrid, Anada." -- AIDS AIDS (also known as J arett Kobek), assistant editor of Hoe, epitomizes this tendency that has become all too natural in the past years. It makes sense, considering he is the initiator of this war. But deep down inside AIDS's heart, we must realize that he doesn't really want to fight. He merely wants his children and his children's children to view the history of the text file scene as a fascinating saga which must be repeatedly relived in order to keep the dwindling community alive and thriving. "I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the [TEXT FILE] shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together." --Martin Luther King Jr. My weary eyes look to this day that Mr. King once referred to a long, long time ago, for I too have a dream, like he. Some of you may laugh. Some may scorn. Some may write typically sarcastic text files about the hope that lives in the deepest cranny of my soul. I do not care. I am not afraid anymore. I will be heard! Peace is our destiny, my friends. We must gather with peace, and part with peace. We must not recruit then reject, and subject ourselves to watching the senseless desecration of our supposed bastard children. We must not deny the responsibility for the "mediocre" text files that Mr. Kobek speaks of with such distaste. We cannot disown the eggs we lay. We must lie in the bed that we make. We must reap what we sow, and nourish the fruit that we plant. It pains me to know that my comrades reside on both sides of the battle. A prominent feeling of melancholy consumption is eating away at my heart and soul. I say to those of you who now stand proudly shouting your senseless battle cries: I am not a part of this war. I will give my love to all of you. I will bandage your bleeding wounds that you have given each other. I will console you as your relationships deteriorate. I will continue to read all of your text files, and I will continue to write for both Hoe and Anada, despite the hostility in between and the bitterness that is sure to come my way. I will stand my ground, tall and straight as the five-foot-four inches of my body. And when it's all over, I will remain, unscarred and still willing to give peace a chance. Won't YOU give it a chance? [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - THE TEXTIAD by Oregano And there on the field, the champion of the kingdom of Hoe, Aids, lay dead. A spear thrown by a female warrior having cleaved his skull and his over-developed brain did spill out and wet the dusty ground. The Mighty Mogel did wail and cry over the vanquishment of his best soldier. And there, not far away, the champion of the kingdom of Anada did lay dead. Oregano, who had been silent for so many months, only to pick up his sword when most needed. An arrow pierced his heart and Oregano would stir no more. Phairgirl, from up high did unlease her anger and promise great wrath against the kingdom of Hoe for taking her finest after finally he took pen in hand after so much silence. Yea, I tell the end, where you want the beginning. I will start again, and tell you how the events came about. Mogel was restless. Mogel wanted change. Mogel had created Hoe from the dust and now he wanted to recreate it again in a different form. Mogel thundered and cried and shook Hoe with his mighty strength and all the good writers fell out. Then Mogel did cast out Phairgirl saying that her careful ways of quality control were too slow for such a grand creation as Hoe. Phairgirl did call the bluff of the mighty Mogel and did create her own kingdom from the dust, and it too was strong, strong enough to make the Mighty Mogel and his best warrior, Aids, worry it may someday be the ruler of the continent. Phairgirl ruled a land of peace, a kingdom called Anada. Perhaps too peaceful, for some of the warriors got lazy and would not work with their pens. Mogel thundered again and cast out Oregano, who promptly sought refuge in the kingdom of Anada. But Oregano was battered from so many years defending the kingdom of Hoe and he could no longer hold a mighty pen, and so when the ships of Anada saw war and sailed to the field of battle, Oregano could only lay by the ships while his fellows wrote the text which was the great battle. We skip here some grand tales of bravery and heroism, on both sides, for both Anada and Hoe had powerful staffs. Both sides took their best shots and many lay wounded or fallen in the dust. Aids came out to the field of battle and many of Anada fell, but still Oregano did not stir, he lay while the best of Anada fought valiantly. A pen in his hands was like a poker taken directly from a fire. Even when a proud Robin landed on his shoulder, sent from Olympus on high, and reminded him of past glory and his great prowess with the pen and the sword, even then Oregano did not stir and would only self-loathe himself. Yea did the battle rage on and the soldiers of Anada were taking a beating. And upon this beating did Aids make a grand proclamation. He spoke not just to his own warriors, but to these of Anada and he did say that he personally would see that the corpses of every soldier of Anada would rot in the sun, and their blood would soak in the the dust and Anada would no longer be remembered and all the Anada staff would be smited and not written in the book of life. And with these words ringing in his ears, with his head echoing with the challenge, did Oregano stand up off the dusty ground and did pick up his mighty pen and sword and did wield it and did step onto the field of battle where he did much injury and harm to the side of Hoe. He stood to once again rase the banner of Anada as being not just the finest in the land, but truly the only in the land. And there were many days of intense fighting and now we come back to where my tale started. After the dust settled from the bravely fought battle we find Aids dead upon the field of battle with his brains scattered, and Oregano lay fallen too, with his blood among the dust, his heart pierced with a single arrow. And mighty Mogel did order his troops off the field of battle. And Phairgirl did order her ships again to take to the sea for the odyssey of returning back to the kingdom of Anada, to have her forces ready to gather for another day. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - "God takes a shit and out comes..." by Alek OK, so every once in awhile, God has to take a crap. He's like only human and junk, or something, ya know. So, anyhow, yeah, God really needed to fucking crap one day. I mean a HUGE fucking crap. Like take the biggest, longest crap you ever ever took in yr entire life and multiply that by a zillion and that's how big God's crap was gonna be. So, anyhow, God sat down on his gigantic toilet. Now this toilet is pretty fucking big because everyone knows that God is one fat fuck. its true! its true! And he eats babies too. But, i digress. So, God sits down on his gigantic huge fucking throne to take the largest crap ever taken (Guinness Record officials are on hand). Veins are fucking bulging out of his forehead and he's all red and he's screaming, "God damnit, come the fuck out already! Jesus fuckin' christ!" Its quite obvious that God had been eating many fried cheese and sardine sandwiches. He was very constipated. After countless hours of squeezing and pushing, God let out the biggest crap ever. When God was done a few days later, he wiped and got up to check the toilet. You see, God always inspects his feces for fiber. Its true, its true! God was truly astonished at what he saw in his crapper. Some dude with a t-shirt that said HOE on it started yelling about some stuff, but no one knew what he was talking about cuz he's a stupid fuck or something. then there was a girl who had boobs and junk and she like to talk to the poo. she had a HOE shirt on. i think she was one of the godfather's ladies. There were some other dudes that said they were writers for an ezine or some shit but no one cares about their loser asses cuz they are loser asses. everyone knows technology is gay and no one gives two tugs of a dead dogs cock about yr gay star trek website or yr backstreet boys porno britney spear shaving pics CLICK HERE! um, what? so these people with HOE tshirts are swimming around in fecal water and having a grand ol time cuz they're pretty much accustomed of wallowing in shit (LOL!). WHOOOOoooo! take that cracker motherfuckas! um, so in conclusion or whatever, um if you read HOE, yr gay and you support a bunch of baby eating, tree huggin, dirty, skanky, bottom feeding, brutal, trash bag hoes, and that my friends IS TRUE! (by the way: what's HOE?) [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - Date: Tue, 9 May 2000 02:03:24 From: chet@oldmanmurray.com To: Mogel Don't taunt me that this will be your final pathetic email. The fun of receiving links to poorly written crap is over... feel free to remove my name from your list or just get used to the mail being bounced. Date: Fri, 11 Feb 2000 04:04:43 GMT From: Aleka Hoku To: mogel@hoe.nu hoe's great! i love all the different txt files and stuff....i've been reading hoe for over a year, was introduced by a friend and have passed it on to many many friends and acquaintances...keep the kick ass awesome job!!!! i love everything u guys write! mucho smooches *anela aleka* Date: Tue, 28 Mar 2000 18:32:03 From: Dan Nagy To: hoe@hoe.nu Subject: HOE SUBMISSION i remember those days. i was into things. i listened to Inf. Soc. and kmfdm. i sat in a dirty corner at my fathers house on my leading edge 286, with those awful 5.25" drives, one with dos, one with procomm plus, plotting ways to reconnect to the same line after my 60 minute freenet session was over. i remember those awful freenet picnics, where some of the peoples skin was paler than the plain white t-shirts i used to wear all the time. the cliques, the loners, the fact that we all knew ourselves as ap035 and sa131 and cl762. 1200 baud. warez boards that let you in if you knew what InC and ACiD stood for. hacking irc. social engineering accounts from people you hated, or better yet, taking the other phone and calling them, because their mommy and daddy didn't want the call waiting turned off. wondering if my cpu would crash, because the buffer might overload while i was capturing uuencoded porn. the green trench coat that lasted me through high school. then there were the text files. everything i learned about making my own drugs, picking locks, exploiting unix and bestiality i learned on searchlight boards, wildcat hacks and usenet, when people actually had something useful to say. those days are gone. like most of the other kids that were around during that era, i got a real job in computers, and although i still sit in front of this damned box all night long when the girl's at school, it's not the same. freenet's gone in cleveland. the people i used to look forward to chatting with at 3 am have moved on, some for better, some for worse, some for AOL. don't get me wrong, everyone deserves an IPO, right? cheers for linux and rob malda and jon katz. props to search engines and al4a. palm pilots and G4's and transmeta are alright in my book. but they'll never replace the fondness i have for CGA graphics and copycon autoexec.bat. so here's to all of us that read CdC when it was new, to people who actually knew what a SysOp was and definitely to anyone that had a TI-994a. one of these days i'm going to pull that 286 out of the attic and write text files on it. maybe somebody will know what the hell i'm talking about. /\ _| |_ _|__ __|_ __ | | _| |_ | | | | | | /\ | | | | | | | | | | | |___ | | | | | | | | | | |_|_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | _| | |_|_ | | |_ | | |_| | | (oh.) | | | CLEVELAND FREE-NET | | COMMUNITY COMPUTER SYSTEM | |____________________________________| brought to you by Case Western Reserve University Community Telecomputing Laboratory Date: Mon, 3 Apr 100 04:23:10 From: Matt Spinks To: mogel@hoe.nu Subject: HAY UYUUU HAY D00D@!! EYeyz sawrZ Yuew g0tz da Gnu z1n3 out dare on tdat street n lyts lke ho." like Hoe3 4 h0rz n tards n bytchfuckaz niggazs n dig dogfuckjaz n like dogdinks... y0 sucka! Yo I been lisssinin to-2-t3w much EMINEM l8lee n its makin me wanna g0 out wif da sack o ole marbles in DA TUBESOCK N FUKCIN WAHM! bring it down on sum retards hed...umm like YO BIEEYTATCH YOU WNAT MAH AUTOGRAPH? I BUST Y0 HED IN HALF N SIGN THA CAST!@! damn dude.. i see You got some mad t-phil3z up on h0e dare, dhere iz many wif da old-sk00l look.and.feel like whats wuz around cDc in... da eighties! woo! rumba da 80s or wuz U U sum little ass fuckin schoolboyniggabitchfuckacatfuc/? ya well it seems 2 me nowz you rumba da 80s G00D wifs all yer mosposmderism ov da ironyo-retroyo-mistah-makinfunnamuhSELF-files n da retro-anarcho-socio-politico-sayfuck?-sayshit! files... N0tZ da mention you n your bagga bittches wif what constutiiutes a posse ov editeros los banditos del cyberspacospicco ... mogel da cyberspic. who w00dda thought ov it? oh YEZ m0gel, mah friend, ur gnu files are ind33d tha retro-ist ov all tha we-so-bad-we-so-good filez.. u seemz 2 be regargitatin da c0llege education now dat y00z gradickated fum CULLUGE! UH WUNT DUH CULLEGE! D00d wickid! d00d eye haff m0re literary talent in muh FUCKIN twisted testicles than y0u got in yer damn army ovV retro textFiles... sum men got da BEEMER sum got a really nice bike, sum got a job at starbucks, s0me peepulz got a thousand textfiles.. d00d the nigworm eye be scratchin off mah armz is dah papyrus upon which YOU wish you gonna be writing dah next great TEXTFILE. m0gel... da king ov da textfilez... spreading dem everywhichwhere like sum SCENT.. like herpesz n sum guano, dr0ppin tfile jism of wisdum like s4lt on dah 'Hoag13s" whutz sday cll da big footlong sammich in moguls town! Ho-geez0rsz FUCKA when he goez to buy sumz animalz carckuhz@s dah store he leeves dah trail 0v t-f3philez behindZ him. Wh3n He dryve3sz dah m0gel kar 2-PHAST!! n da c0pz is lyke 'SHit you BISZZZTEd BUSTED BIATCH!' mog0el's like... "Here dude, have a textfile. On me. Peace out, bro!" n da c0pz like 'das YYYOOUU mogel?? Sir haff a nice dayz0rsz!!" n m0gels off sc0tch-twat-free. das m0gel ph0r ewe! He livvf he brethe3s he 3ats textfiles N hazza barbie doll whutz sleeps in dis bed next t0 hiz, N He makes dah bed for barbie outtA prynt3d 0ut IBFTzz n CdcZ! Dat widdoo poosy! he pways edittin da textfilezinesscene wiff faggbutt d0lls! NO SHIT! eye swearsz, he g0tta barbie n skipper size comput3RRRR he be like 'Barbie, your realist piece on the postmodern implications of my girlfriends armpit is late! My lit zine cant go to press without it! I will suck and I will lose my girliez and I will lose my IP address! Why is the life of a genius so hard, Barbie?!" (oh seriously man on a serious note i read your phun w/shit file and you gotta try this... there is a new kind of gatroade called Fierce Grape Gatorade. it will give new meaning to the phrase 'my shit is a weird color'. anyway sorry to break out of character for that, but if you take me up youll find it was wiorth it... anyway...) Wh3n m0gels bees tha f00kin like 85 yrs-old n INNA HOSPITAL (HAHAHAH) dey is gonna open hiz c0l0sztomy bag n be lyke ''fuck is THIS shit?' n they gonna open it out n find it CLOGGED WIFF TEXTFILES. m0gel. he be slappin tha headres n ph00ters on da st00pid shit fum dah cr4ydle 2 da grave 0r at leazzt fum da p00berty 2 da alzheimers. h3 stick a header n f00ter on his 0wn m0mma. write back!@! Date: Sun, 21 May 2000 19:50:23 -0700 From: butcher To: mogel@hoe.nu My friend said you sent him a subscription to HOE ZINE! THanks you friend. I am worried now if he will like HOE ZINE as much as I like it but I hope he does. I really hope he does. Thanks HOE MAN. tinkle tinkle (do you laugh at that? (tinkle tinkle)?) I do laugh at it.. BYE! Date: Tue, 28 Mar 2000 12:12:11 +0200 From: onnlein@wtal.de To: hoe@hoe.nu Subject: noppa hello, i search for the sources or the programmer of noppa, it's really important for me, i hope you can help me!! Date: Mon, 3 Apr 2000 01:31:48 EDT From: Muzak29@aol.com To: mogel@hoe.nu Subject: I wanna write for your zine. When I fly. I have the wings of the winged snake-man. Once, when I was 2, I pooped in the dog water because i was being potty trained. That is not a false statement. We will dance. Ask the snake-man. .................................................. . .. . . OH OH NO NO NO NO OHHH OHHHHHH NOOOOOOOO OHHHHHH HOE WILL NEVER SELL OUT. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: : :: : : Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2000 13:12:48 From: "Alexandre Baronnet" To: hoe@hoe.nu Subject: Information required Hello! We are interested in advertising in your newsletter. We sell astrology reports and want to advertise our products in newsletters orientated towards a general public. We would be interested in running an ad on a regular basis in order to secure the lowest possible tariff from you. We are not sure how often your newsletter goes out but would like to run the ad once a week if you're a weekly or once a month if you're a monthly. As mentioned, we are interested in securing the lowest possible tariff so would like your ideas on the following: -either we advertise 'normally' in your newsletter (5 lines?) and would therefore need a tariff from you which takes into account the fact that we will be advertising regularly -or we could supply a much shorter ad (one or two lines such as “request your free personal horoscope done by a professional astrologer : http..." :) that we would want you to slip in between your other ads. The latter seems to be the most appealing for both parties since you get to keep your other advertisers and we get a good deal as far as your tariff is concerned. Please mail us back with your tariffs, number of subscribers and how often your newsletter goes out. Thanks in advance. Sincerely Alexandre Baronnet Date: Thu, 25 May 2000 04:07:48 +0100 From: roboto@bboy.com To: hoe@hoe.nu ******************************************************* * hoe e'zine--a retailiation to #709 * * "young linux users" * * by roboto * ******************************************************* I read interjen's article recently, and I'm all for her anti-aol propaganda. I started out on aol four years ago, when I was 8 or 9, but I moved on to local ISPs. And I think it's cool that she uses linux and shes only 11, but when the editor (Phairgirl I think) says 'Interjen is an eleven year old girl. Were YOU using Linux when you were eleven? I don't think so.' -- He's wrong. I started using linux when I was 11, with my first install of Redhat4.1 (kernel 2.0.27, I think). And, I didn't have anyone to help me with it. I found out about it by myself, read up on it, talked to other linux users on IRC about it. The one day, after I saved up 40 bucks, I went to CompUSA and bought a copy of RedHat. Then I went home, formatted my 486, and put it on. I'm 13 now, and I've been using linux for two years (not two years of productivity, just two years). I've gained experience over those two years. Linux started me on my first unsuccessful attempts at programming (which actually was VB, but I got interested in programming around 11, after I saw that I had access to a free compiler, linker and debugger). Why did I write this? I have no fucken clue, I just wanted to show you guys that there may be more young-future-unix-gurus out there then you guys thought.. later. -roboto Date: Mon, 15 May 2000 11:05:57 -0700 (PDT) From: guido sanchez To: mogel@hoe.nu i had no idea that the song "The Salaminizer" by GWAR was such a tribute to "Gangster Gangster" by NWA GWAR: Here's a little somethin from a God to a slave Never shoulda been let out the fuckin microwave ... Burning a mall or two, blowing the load I spew You don't wanna fucking fuck me? I'll fuck you! This is your ass, and I'm in it My man Sexy will fuck you up in a minute With an axe, sword, mace, pike you're limbless Then I'll fuck your ass til it's rimless NWA: Here's a little somethin' bout a nigga like me Never shoulda been let out the penitentiary ... Takin' a life or two, that's what the hell I do You don't like how I'm livin? Well fuck you! This is a gang, and I'm in it My man Dre'll fuck you up in a minute With a right, left, right, left you're toothless And then you say goddamn they ruthless WEIRD, HUH? Date: Thu, 10 Feb 2000 16:30:20 EST From: Vishnu3@aol.com To: mogel@hoe.nu hi mogel, i'm nick cannariato. i have an overwhelming curiosity for the outside world. my lust for learning has taken me from the utmost of ascensions of consciousness to the gravest depths of attention deficit. i especially savor music (pop, classical, jazz, not emo). literature, history, and philosophy are also primary interests of mine. i am an individual who loves others. i often times have a hard time accepting them for who and what they are, but i am working on that character flaw. i have the heart of a leviathan who enjoys the warm luminescence of solar rays near the surface of the turbulent sea of ignorance. i also have the wisdom to know that i do not know. socrates is an idol of mine. the platonic dialogues are beautifully written, but are often inaccessible to the everyman. i am piteous of this fact. hypocritically speaking, i deplore the vernacular of the day. i try to always expand my vocabulary. a heightened sense of language gives me the boost on a daily basis i need to maintain a deluded sense of autonomy. either way, continue on your path toward zine greatness. ciao baby---peace be with you---love to all. Date: Thu, 08 Jun 2000 23:43:30 From: Craig M. Price To: hoe@hoe.nu Subject: HOE SUBMISSION Hello, Gotta submission for ya. Thanks for your time. ---------- "How dumb people ruined the Internet" by Bung Ree Most of you can probably remember when the Internet started. Back in the day the Internet was about knowledge. Sadly, like so many other things in life, it has become a tool for the media to make more money. How has this atrocity come to pass? I'll tell you- DUMB PEOPLE. Ten years ago the Internet wasn't worth companies' time because the few mount of people on the Internet were smart. How many of you people actually click the ads that run on every single damned web page? Most of you probably answered zero- congratulations, you are (probably) not dumb (Notice the lack of ads on the Hoe E'zine page). What has changed since then to allow these idiots out into our once beloved Internet? I'll tell you- User Friendliness. Years past, you had to actually know something to be able to use the Internet. No sponge-minion that didn't know the difference between a CD-ROM and a fucking coffee cup holder could get on. Today, since these computers are made for the average person, (translation: DUMB) you buy a computer, and WHAMO! You're on the Internet, clicking merrily away, making the suits more money, surfing to every single web address you see, whether it be on a cereal box, an ad in the paper, or the back of a detergent bottle. And, of course, sending your DAMNED chain letters to every person you have met in your miserable existence. Oh by the way, just in case one of you happens to be read this, no matter how many poor saps you send an email to, you *WILL NOT* see cool movies, get 1,000,000 dollars from Bill Gates for helping him test his email tracing program, have good luck, score more dates, and no little girls with cancer / AIDS will get pennies / nickels / dimes. TRUST ME. So, these companies say, "Hey, we can get more advertising now that there are more dumb people on the Internet!" "Quick lets buy any domain name that has anything remotely to do with our product." Then they populate web sites with flashy ads and cool slogans. Why the hell a company needs a site with Java, Macromedia Flash, and a host of other bandwidth-hogging shit just to advertise some fucking laundry detergent is beyond me. Thanks to all of you people who continue to not be dumb. Our numbers are dwindling fast; we must do what we can to propagate smart people. Who will have sex with me? Date: Mon, 22 May 2000 06:52:55 -0400 From: killer cait To: j arett@kobek.com Subject: AWewEkslfkslQE! !!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!! !!!!! !! Love, Caitlin [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - EAT MY BALLS by Effy you're nuthin' but a fuckin' crusty ass shit fuckin' faced rottin' spare chunk of skunk liver lyin' on the side of the fuckin' road eatin' fuckin' poodle shit to fuckin' stay alive dog cock slurpin' pig dick munchin' bull shit wipin' salad tossin' gold fuckin' diggin' four fingered half brained peanut nibblin' fuckin dipshittin' in the fuckin' portofuckin' potty fuckin' your mother in the fuckin' gutter mother fuckin' ass huggin' tree fuckin' electrical tape on your fuckin' ass crack to hold your fuckin' dingleberries in mother fuckin' suckin' your cows dick just to get milk while rapin' your sheep while your wife's beggin' for sex mother fucker mother fucker mother fucker kiss my ass you fuckin' fuck who hangs testicles on your christmas tree fuckin' zoo rapist smack daddy mother fuckin' crack nut wanna be my daddy bitch whore slut wannabe las vegas cunt licker yeah buddy I'm talkin' to you that's right you use fuckin' anal oil as your fuckin' cologne that's right uh huh you're nuthin' but a twisted limp dick yanker that's right you yank your own twistin' limp dick yeah you try an' come over here you crap lapper farm fuck inbred came out of your mother's ass mother fuckin' lifeless squirrel grabbin' piece of unidentified worthless feces eat my balls that's right eat my balls you try and eat my steel balls with your two poor blackened excuses for teeth whisker bitch drinkin' your wife's rag out of a tin cup impregnatin' your goat cuz you're just as much of a fuckin' horned fuckin' animal masturbator fecal rapist doin' piles of manure at midnight pickin' dingleberries off your fuckin' ass bushes and makin' a fuckin' pie to feed to your gap toothed inbred fuckin' kids you fuckin' fuck yeah you yeah hair pie eat shit and just fuckin' die already gay daddy fucker' rainbow fuckin' walkin' herpes infestation pulsating sack of grease givin' away your fuckin' ass hairs to homos for crack dope smokin' pot bellied horse fucker you're a horse fucker you fuck fuckin' horses right in the mouth that's right now your dick is gone mother fucker the horse bit the fuckin' thing right off so whatchu gonna fuckin' do now huh uh huh you're nuthin' but a soap droppin' crusty bakin' stack of old hog bacon smack cracker that's right I'm talkin' to you don't make me fuckin' repeat myself mother fucker just cuz you can't fuckin' hear with all that fuckin' wax in your fuckin' ear make a fuckin' candle cuz you can't pay your fuckin' electric bill without suckin' some flamer's peepee mother fucker I see you're gettin' pissed off now fuckface whatchu gonna do about it huh what you got to say with your fuckin' three word vocabulary you got no teeth mother fucker you got no fuckin' teeth your mouth is fulla fuckin' holes like your anus your fuckin' ripped anus you stick smokin' gimp that's what you are that's what you'll always be wife neglectin' goat penis chicken choker bawk bawk bawk your pigs like it when you suck 'em that's right crap factory god made you on an assembly line with assorted kinds of shit man yeah man you fuckin' sick fuck whatchu gonna do about it huh huh uh huh you try an' say you're gonna do somethin' about it but there aint nuthin' that you can do mother fucker eat my steel balls eat them go on mother fucker uh huh hhuh you'll bust your rotten teeth uhhh eat them eat 'em fucker uh huh huh uh huh huh huh huh uh uh uh huh uh uhuuh uhhhhhh uh hhuhhhhhhhh uuhhhhhh huh uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh huuuh [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - Date: Sat, 22 Apr 2000 06:26:33 CDT From: Noah Larkosh To: mogel@hoe.nu Subject: Noah "pi-rate gets tough on stains" He collects his thoughts, one or two, and ponders for the moment... Is he an instrument of life, or a larger main component? Is he thinking rational, or has he gone insane? But if, just say, he were an object, is he a brand name? And if he were, would he truly be of any use? Or would he sit and gather dust, like a... food processor? Or an electric cutting knife that's much too hard to clean. And would he show the scratches from the abuse that he has seen? Would every woman need one, and is he cost effective? And does he have a warranty, in case he is defective? Will he be a passing fad, like a Pogo Ball? Or will he stand the test of time, like a Barbie doll? And what would be the sound of him... would he have a voice? Or does he have intelligence, turning memory into choice? Would they make a model, sans options, for the middle class? And what would he be made of? Teflon? Plastic? Steel? Wood, or glass? And as he ponders all of these, his goal in mind is set. To be a household name someday, one history can't forget. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - I WANNA FUCK YOUR FACE WITH A RAKE #1 by Kaotik hi you might remember me from other messages such as: " yeah" or " umm.." kaotik is on dxm run from him Umm... yeah here's some shit for your eyes to read fuckers. I got an offer... actually i was told to write a file and shit, usually i don't give two fucks to do anything but i am kinda bored and can do this in two minutes. theres a few things in life i don't like...besides all these fuckin internet cluebies..i also hate fat chix...why you may ask well... they are fat and not good to look at...you can go about life being fat and stuff..but when you try to dress to look good, as opposed to dressing to look half decent it is sad. now if you are fat and reading this...and you have issues..chances are you'd be better off fucking yourself..because there is not much you can say that can make me feel bad, especially for you, fatty. hahahaha...i wanna fuck your fat face with a fuckin rake! YOU HEAR ME YOU FAT FUCK$#@AE...so anyways, i got to clubs and shit...and these fat chicks try to hit on me..it's depressing seeing that i am hot, and have nice stuff, i dress nice, and go out with models and shit...so there is no real chance that someone with an ego like mine and stuff like mine...and gurls like mine that i would want you. i don't care if your personality is so good that jesus wants to come back so that he could chill with you and your twinkie eating friends. sure you may call me asshole, but i call you fat, sure you may call me hottie, but i call you fat, sure you may wanna ride in my car, but i'd hate to try to even the crators outta the leather. umm... jenny craig..sounds good..stopping eating sounds good..there is no reason that you have to always order the largest ice cream suger cone from dairy queen, and there is no reason for you to eat ice cream anyways. look in the mirror and puke...cause baby that's what you make me do. Now i will add some quotes to make this look fat! fat girls at yokdale? they musta broke thier irc it's just the way i am, wasting my time with average broads doesn't do anything for me my ex's were all models, i don't get impressed anymore i be like...you need a sugarcone threescoop double chocolate double dip icecream with sprinkles like i need another asshole! i don't like going for ice cream that's where uhmm really big boneded chix hang that's always good excercise you don't wanna get to be like 130lbs or something sup wit irc, y is there a lack of women? the irc women are not working now they went back to being fat hairy men that's why the pictures are usually so nasty well he thinks she's hot maybe he can convince someone like the guy from rainman or corky from life goes on if she has ripples, she's fat otherwise, she's voluptuous i like gurls that look like models or else after i'm done fucking them i wanna throw up i dunno if it's just me I dunno, I don't really dig the anorexic look piggy piggy..RUN!! i gotz a fork! [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - Title: isaac8 Author: isaac date: 00.02.14 only trust blindly the voices in your head. before you die, understand why you laugh. for then you will be well ready to die. when you like what is and what is not, you are colorless. invisable. invincable. your society leaves a mark on you that can not be erased. so if you leave your society, return to it, because you came from it. return to the water for you come from there too. drown in the water if you like. the water thinks its your mother. and mothers can not hurt their children, only put then to sleep. i speak literally. when you go to the water. eat the fish. and eat the water. there is no ego below language or water. this is how you become my victum. you will know it and i will know it when you become silent. it's all over for you. your loose grasp is gone, child. fall off your stool. now fall into the water. now fall and be below me. you are bate on my hook. isaac so long as I am ASSitant editor of HOE I will make every effort to keep your files from being published because they are relentless garbage HOE will no longer suffer your crap [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - "All in a Days Work" by pl0nk Grocery List ------------ steak condoms milk cheese sugar porno mag fruit loops pop ice cream chips juice coffee i decided not to buy the following items. instead i purchased 1 smelly old hooker. the cost of 1 smelly old hooker? $27.89 underneath those wrinkles, beyond the age, lies the beauty queen of the 40's. aged like fine wine. heed all those who defy the lord and all those whom confine to jesus. thee all mighty wrath shall fall upon thee and banish ye to hell. FUCK RELIGION. needless to say, i don't disown religion, after all ... religion is the route of all evil, it creates wars, and war creates space for the rest of china, japan, cuba and africa. save the planet. quit having babies. let the human race become extinct. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - Taken from The Obloid Sphere BBS DATE: April, 27, 2000 BY: Oregano SUBJECT: Book review "Invisible Man" Ralph Ellison #6 of 10 Recommended by Mogel. For the most part I did not enjoy this book. Most of the way through there was no compelling narrative force to drag one along, things just happened then more things happened. I understand why this is considered a classic, the writing is quite good and the style is so well concocted. It is somewhere on the spectrum between Kafka and Terry Southern in its unreality. There is a huge distance created between the narrator and the reader that I find disturbing. But that is a personal dislike and I do not condemn the book for it, just note that I don't like that style it is too alienating for me. Anyway, I am glad I read it and I hope I never again have to read a book in this style. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - Date: Wed, 29 Mar 2000 11:21:55 -0800 From: Paul Z To: mogel Subject: field officer 9 reporting situation hostile why drugs? we all need a drug of some sort. a substance to ingest, to assimilate. one that makes our body tell our mind that we feel better than we do. why do we seek such shelters? are we so week? sure, my drug is soda. but looking at the absolute, caffeine is a drug like the next yeah. how can i say to someone not to do any drugs when i do one myself. when they asked me what i didnt do, i said i didnt smoke or drink or do drugs, or date girls (no im not gay), but that i eat meat. and i drink soda, i know i shouldnt eat meat.. only because its ecologically irresponsible though, not cause of that 'sentient creatures shouldnt be eatten' crap.. have you ever seen hills of cow dung? ever wonder what fills america between the east and west coast? hills of cow dung that you can smell in any direction for miles and miles! so despite this knowledge i listen to my body's urges, telling me i want meat, but my brain tells me otherwise, doesnt it? too bad my brain is so much smaller than my body, or else i might saddle up to my own measured glory. sure i set my standards high but it's neccessary for me--i cant justify my elitism without having some sort of elite critera over main- stream humans. so while i suppose my self-righteous additude gets in the way, at least i try to give a basis for it. its so much more satisfying looking at those drunken frat members dead on that floor if you are flat sober. fucking frat boys ran by a dog on the street a while ago. dragged that dead corpse across the way to hide it between two parked cars. the dog's mate came and sat by it until it too died. i use this as some great source of righteous indignation used not to do to seperate myself from a group that i do i choose you know? not wish to be associated with. its alot a thing easier to hate what they did while they its just were drunk because i haven't and will never be drunk. ..ahem, so where was I? oh yes, something about i do drugs just like everyone else. i suppose in the end the point is not what i do do, but what i dont do that makes it okay so that as long as i aw fuck it. free orgasms for everyone! define yourself by who you aren't. and make love to a leprichane. if its spelt wrong, you probably read it wrong. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - Date: 19 Mar 2000 00:39:57 -0800 From: Bob To: mogel@hoe.nu Subject: What would my hell would be like here's my submission... go ahead and reject it like a 400 pound hooker... run run run run run run run run run in the morning run in the night run while the children scream in fright run from the beggars who just need a dime run for the border, where the honeys are fine that man over there he's running scared he thinks his car won't take him far so he's running for his life forgetting friend child and wife he really doesn't care it was too much for him to bear all the people sit and stare watch him run to their lair his shoes toes feet falling off now how does he run how could I know how he runs so fast his shadow is panting he runs so fast his captor is repenting people notice people care as he runs into the maw of the great great bear watch in horror while he runs towards the cliff cheer and applaud when he dives off the precipice he's just a clown to the beautiful people running naked running scared he's exposed for all the world to see but no one looks no one sees he's just a begger on his knees asking the bear for just one for free getting told no, he can't have a seat seats are only for those who have beat the amazing odds that they would be ugly smart nice kind and homely the man dives off the precipice into the big hole is eaten by the bear, body whole the people stand and cheer for his aching and sit down and wait for the next big thing -Mr. Mojo Risin' [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - REFLECTION by Y-WiNDoZE Okay here is what I am writing for you. This is a transcription of a conversation between my friend Tom and I. c: That's back before there was TV. t: I thought you were just poor and lived in a trailer. t: CHRIS IS WHITE TRASH CHRIS IS WHITE TRASH t: *giggle* Tom is a faggot. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - ORANGE PEELS by aster "hello" said mister f. rog guts "oh hello rog!" said his friend mister squid guts. and then they both started to smell and rot. and before they knew it, the humans had thrown them into a pile of garbage and they died. but when the humans threw them away, they also accidentally threw a very precious stone into the garbage with them. the stone was worth lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of money. they quickly realized what they had done, sent out millions of search robots. all these robots found the treasure and traded it in for power. they killed all the humans and when it was over scriced themselves and blew up the earth. when the sun exploded the earth died too and that was it. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - FUN WITH POLITICS by tis I had a lovely conversation with my ancient aunt on Easter regarding politics. In attempt to strike a heated debate, I suggest the subject of Elian Gonzalez. As she carefully spat out random words, smacking her chewing-gum and staring at the corner of the ceiling, I came to the realization that I was receiving the most intellectually stimulating response I could expect from a woman of her age. "I heard about this Elian guy yesterday. Randy read about him in the drudge report.com or something. I can never remember internet words. Well, anyways, there is this Fidel Castro fella in Puerto Rica (that is Elian's dad). He's a horrible father to let Elian run away like that. Randy used to always say, 'Midgets should be kept on leashes. You never know where they will end up!' and I suppose in this case he ended up in Miami! That is a superb of Florida. His grandpa, Mr. Reno, discovered him running amuck in downtown Daytona, throwing eggs at a kind fisherman. The fisherman gave him a good thwap! Mr. Reno scooped up the midget and carried him back to their family's house in Washington DC. He put his foot down at Elian's behavior and locked him in a closet accompanied by a United States Federal Agent with a gun. I don't pity Elian at all. Some people deserve their punishments, and Elian was definitely one of them. I hear he used to be featured on a cable access show hosted by Howard Stern. Good thing he only drank Sprite then. Lots of people are on television....like that Alanis Morrisette woman. Good Lord Almighty, her name is synonymous with SPAWN OF SATAN, I swear. Anyways, three days later, Elian got a new fashionable haircut. That very day Fidel came to kidnap Elian, but the little man got smart and hit him over the head with an inner-tube. Some people say that is the worst way to die. Two by two, good people are descending into hell, like the animals on Adam's arch. First Hoover, now Castro. What is this world coming to?" I had no choice but to smile and reply, "of course". [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - does lycra melt at absolute zero? a treatise by wyclepht palate. SPECIAL FILE BY KRNL it was another blustery august day as i skulked down the liquid pavement, waving the fluttering postmen out of my face with a laconic sneeze. we could all see the ombudsman circling above. it was a portent of darkened enmity as the hail of pokemon balls started. what savages felcher remarked off somewhere down the tunnel to the right. a stentorian blare, a naked mare trotting down the street carrying some sort of bionic appendage ripped off of lee majors after a night of wild turkey and poker. there was my love, dressed just like V.I.C.K.I., ready and willing to be plugged into 120VAC for a little mechanical animal. please she bleated, just one more tired popular culture reference? dangle that rabbit in front of the greyhound, what do you expect as i folded my face into a satchel and packed for paris. but how can this occidental valise accommodate all the pantaloons accrued over years of subterranean gnome stalking? they really do have fashion sense. it is readily evident that the suburban police carry concealed brandy snifters. n'ary a lad who wasn't forced to take the devil's juice straight up as a punishment for hooligan acts. my brow furrowed. i knew that i had to strum out an A7 to enter the store and i couldn't remember if she could clutch that chord in her arms. some sort of holdover stench of patchouli hovel complete with intrinsic light show. plastic beads, or were they long spaghetti strings, or stretched out asps? feeling each set of reptilian eyes focus, forked tongues flicking to divine, fangs filled with venom, and the lunge, strike, frigid meat locker air blaring over the morrissey. WHY DO WE SODOMIZE THE CANADIANS? was that a rhetorical question? aren't all questions rhetorical? slug down another tapioca pudding for the road the overly homosexual clerk waffles. you think you can fool me with that poison pudding. both you and i know that the cassava plant is one of the deadliest in nature, and yet you want me to consume this pudding made out of its foliage. tough luck klaus von sparkie. as if i were the cuban eye popper or something. you don't even understand bitmasking the curmudgeon burned into my muttonchop sideburns. i should have shaved the unibrow years ago or at least polished it up for show with some top shelf bear grease. but neither plan materialized and i was left to front crawl in a bathtub filled with my own eyelashes. but where is the direction, shylake guffaws in the distance, summoning a small tsunami to dash the hopes of immigrants everywhere. the bank can't even cash checks these days. asinine clerks have already seen four score parade through in fedoras and fiberglass boas. i think the pumps make my calves look sexI. perhaps i should wax my navel again. my navel always seems to come in handy when i am trying to negotiate with insipid tellers. why don't i get pierced where no one will ever see,that would be a cool way to be trendy yet introverted, perhaps i should pick up another pair of sketchers to go with this happy meal frisbee. i guess we all want the conveniently choakable prize to lodge down the collective windpipe until the ever mysterious duck tape (the close, well, inbred cousin of the versatile duct tape) materializes to penetrate innocent bystanders. in a puff of smoke, and with emperor ming flourish, shylake is whisked away to fanfare for the not-so-common man. and the street breaks out into some sort of RKO affirmative action chorus line. even winslow in his custom mod 40% aftermarket rascal is joining in. great to see the gimps and freaks main streamed. OF COURSE I WANT A BALLOON YOU FUCKING CLOWN. as i lick the turpentine from my eyebrows i feel a longing to be somewhere else. seated on a dromedary, ready to deliver my offerings of C4 and dmT to the final solution, i was struck with a purpose. more accurately, i was beaten senseless with a purpose. i needed to incorporate the mortal coil in a country bedspring plan. often overlooked by the 'cosmopolitan' populous as one of those bougiosie pedestrian topics, the layout of box springs is as fascinating a subject as the dimple configuration on a 1972 spaulding tripple FlitE golf ball. not only a denizen but also a client, i had the pleasure of attending the forty third annual conference of box spring engineers. men (reportedly there was a woman as well) so driven by the need to attain the perfect distribution of box springs to satisfy varying weight loads. i saw standard deviations, load distributions, and what looked like some sort of four foot long female pleasure device (or is female massage aide the PC term? ask the WSJ). one of the engineers snapped, modified the remote control for the instant-adjustable bed, crushing himself inside its billowing arms. this purpose sucks. onto encasing that poodle in lucite. the problem is that you must drug the poodle before dropping her into the cooling liquid. but you need to pay close attention to freezing its limbs in place with some sort of liquid nitrogen contraption so the animal doesn't spaz as their skin bubbles and boils. i have lost four poodles and a second cousin that way. i think they are trying to taunt me with the polyurethane bars, dangling them in front of my face like the cattle prod of desire. BRAND ME SEDGWICK i don't understand why these punks have yesterday's headlines in their hair. the gnomes had better fashion sense as the deft simian pulls together a few totally unrelated threads for the muffled applause (golf clap?) of the four hundred dollar a plate audience. i put the fucking quarter dollar on the counter vishnu, now give me my daily fix. two mid 80s popular snack cakes later i was zooming. i felt like one of the corey's right before, during and after all the coke and whores. now i think one of them is dead and one of them wears pride rings. i could be mistaken, as none of my facts are based on facts. however, i have an inane ability to make it believable. i convinced some octogenarian that the challenger disaster was caused by sucking a mid sized frank purdue pullet in through the booster intakes. sucks to you richard feynman and your smoke and mirrors 'scientific method' we all know that you were free basing with david crosby up until your untimely death of natural causes (liver failure). what is with all these side comments a ringtail lemur remarked from a hole in the corner nickelodeon. thomas alva would never have approved of this wanton defilement of cinema. why are the feral marmosets galloping down the silver surfer's swathe? is this just another day of bad monkey/good monkey? i crush one of their skulls with ambivalence so i could record the sound. it would fit perfectly looped underneath the baseline. and children could be subconsciously led to the minions of satan without exerting effort. so seamless these days little suzi-q whips out the 72rpm of sacrilege, desecration and fecund malevolence. i would have thrown misogyny in there, but that is just not an accepted facet of popular culture. why can't i play faster one of the yamaha rice bikers slants through the conversation. please sir, may i have another logical fallacy to go with my meagre helping of rotten grammar and random punctuation? i whistle innocently trying to attract the constable to the jew raping his grandmother with an unbreakable ruler (which of course snapped and lodged into her diseased gash, but that is another story entirely about misleading capitalist fantasies and inflatable puppies). i could smoke this summer haze, lighting it into a chain reaction inferno at head level. that would be too logical an ending of existence. slightly less probable than the resurrected jack paar in a g-string commanding two my-little-ponies and one of the lesser transformers (soundwave?) to his unholy bidding. carve a pentagram in my forehead and call me shirley, that would be a hot date with apocalypse. i am getting duncan heinz already she shivered as i remembered that the window was open and she was asking me what i thought about again. nothing. that is the default answer. you can't tell her that the unicorn scene is the only one you saw in blade runner. from the other side of a glass pane, which person was in captivity. but i could be sucked through in a sanguine deluge. she can't see the flip side kid video. mmm.. that was some good nyborg as he slices off a detached reference meant to divert attention from the answer. pulling back and switching the external interface into one of the GirlTalk(tm) AI contexts. of course i am interested as i twiddle the sides of razor cliffs and skate helplessly across glassy ponds led by a team of comic book abortions into the realm of the government contrived daylight savings time. why doesn't the sun set like it used two? now it passes out from intoxication, slouching towards biblical allusion. harder pussycat, mute mute mute. why don't the buttons work, i just swapped out the sardines last night. but they needed to be in mustard sauce? how was i supposed to understand the mustard sauce reference i gloated at some smug law official come to get my jane doe for the transvestite census. he tried to turn up the corners of his stapled-on lips as an external sign of empathy, but NO DICE. and my coffee mounts its steed towards perfection, styled as the opus of a renaissance master. slightly rubenesque in its salivation towards foodstuffs, but still able to slip into its size one. no more hardtack for betsy said the treacle faerie. time for another context switch to dream plane delta where chuck norris greets me in lace and garters. it just wasn't the right day for sensual band-aid application, nor was it the day for auto-asphyxiation by coat hanger. please ian, get down off that cold block of ice. this must be the nexus bob barker drones as the wheel pulsates towards the magical one dollar spin. why wasn't your show adjusted for inflation you fucking coot? i still feel hostess warm cavorting on the shag 70s set of that delicious game show. why don't your assistants take it up the ass bob? inquiring minds want to know. i bet they are saving themselves for a disgusting spread in GENT. at least i have a gold-level subscription. seat me in the front of the plane with the other distinguished flyers so i can be one of the first crushed as we crumple like a coke can. i feel equally as safe with doctors. lets pop a few more ludes and open this sorry JOHN Q PUBLIC. hey, don't forget the anaesthetic again beatrice. the last corpulent flatulator was a real screamer. nurse, intern, fucktoi, can i get another adjective please, my improbably conjugal usage has quickly drained the powers of my thesaurus. grammar is for editors you superficial twat. i bet this little ditty will come out as pureed as estell's metamucil/barbiturate cocktail. ride the comet you orally fixated milkmaids. you will lap it up you insidious muff divers. we all know that you are secretly labeled gentiles and intend to prance down the bricks of piety. scroll down again so you can start replying to the classified ads. severely overweight womyn seeks hirsute troglodyte for discrete games of akari warriors: cheat codes a must. left right left right up down up down b a select start? or was that for punch out. i must be in smit. gently place the white hot ember on the tongue. do not worry, science will protect. hey, don't swallow that you coddled monkey. the umbrella of science doesn't extend to the ignorant. it is one of those cheap ones that only one person can stand under and has a propensity for turning inside-out in a strong wind. cheap taiwan fare. nuke formosa i say but then i think better and remember that my burgeoning collection of hot wheels and matchbox would be castrated by defcon 1. time to hide in my space capsule. in my pajamas with the feet everyone knows about but no one can quite accurately describe. and my brain screams in agony. just another aneurysm. maybe i can feel the pressure building up. maybe this is the end. but lets not be so predictably goffik and angsty with a side of strawberry jam. remember, savage ferrets wield garden weasels in the revolution. and we are a culture inculcated with infomercial prattle until ginsu knives, catchy phone jingles, and cultural icon ron popeil are the fabricated dieties. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - _Waltz #2_ by Natasha Abner i like to sing myself to sexless sleep and cheap prostitute dreams of haha i lost a tooth man, can you believe that propganda book jacket you're interested in touching me and i'm interested in poetry sweet pea screaming, naked and masturbating the benefits of vitamin L on your red blood cells of contentment can you touch your naval with your big toe while doing the hokey pokey and your left foot in does it have a lid on it does it make you feel good your smiling pills and frowning bosom of silicone hip replacement surgery to increase longevity and make you suffer that much more of white trash trailer trash literary trash from mexico city, baby where the needles are all sterile 'cause the dark gals got alcohol for blood and mama for comfort in senior class cotton picking t-shirt proclaiming the existence of elvis and buddy holly and the existence of ralph nader on other planets of appealing doom and atmospheres to ho hop hop hop into your jugular in a cartoon boat of swans down the tunnel of regurgitated relativity and everyone's in the dark damn baby hit me with an atlas shrugged against my socialism _Untitled_ by Natasha Abner i dance in my sockless bonemia of wonder while the brigade of khaki soldiers play their feather drums and you discuss your existential buddhist catholicism of surfer Dalai Lamas and we're mad to live and burn and breathe pollutants a^2 + b^2 = c^2 oh Mr. Pythagoras will you kiss me and let your brown coarse beard tickle my chin and whisper sweet poetry in my ear while the uv rays frolic on the hoods of cars and the guitar strings pluck sweetly the song of green tea in the distance [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - "The Cabbie" by Vlaad Manhattan, April 24 2000 -- driving to New York this fine evening, on a divine quest for White Castle. "I should have told Danni that we were going to New York!" I tell me passenger, Kris. She's in parties. "You know, that chick from Hell who dances on the platform.." 12:00, midnight. I find Times Square as easily as usual. "Excuse me, Officer, do you know where there's a White Castle around here?" "46th, 47th, and 8th." I'm enjoying my first cigarette in a few weeks. Very drunk on rum. Mount Gay, good shit. Ahh, my first bite. The food of the gods. I close my eyes and lean my head back. "Only you would drive two hours in the pouring rain for a fucking hamburger, Adam." The cabbie wore a towel on his head. "You are the fucking whore-tit, you fucking ass loser!" Apparently we were supposed to get in the cab with the skinhead and not the towel head. He had been next in line. But somehow I knew that this man would give my passenger a more interesting first time in New York. The streets smell like urine. My passenger follows me, and I assure him that I know where I'm going. Anyone could shoot us in the back. No one cares who you are in these alleys. "Fortunes told! Special, $5!" I wander into the small door, leaving my friend out in the hall. The woman offers me the deck of cards. I shuffle, and she begins to deal my life, scattering it all over the glass table, which is cloudy with resin from years of cocaine abuse. She tells me about my lost loves, my crushed dreams. She tells me how my father and I could never relate to each other, how distant my mother is. I begin to cry. I cry and cry. "Tell me your two wishes." Back at home. Drunk and exhausted after driving four hours in torrential rain. "She wanted $250 to fix me spiritually." "Spiritual healing my ass." "What did you tell her your two wishes were?" "Kris, my friend--some day we will get drunk with God. We will eat White Castle burgers and fuck and swim and talk with old friends, and make peace with lost loves. And then, later on, at the end of eternity, when everything settles down and the sun begins to rise again, giving breath to a new age--THEN I will be able to tell you what I wish for." [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - uhh by drh HI THIS IS MY FIRST TIME EVER WRITING AN ARTICLE FOR THE GREAT ZINE H0E i think its proper that i write for hoe, because i am a hoe. ill phone bone your mom, and eat out your sister when shes on the rag. because im a crazy coricidin goblin that will scan your networks for imap then come on irc and brag when i finally exploit a redhat box set back as my fingers move and my brain doesnt, this is idiocty in its purest form, i'm a goblin, i feel like a lizerd because i just do. ok that's all for this article. bye. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - Date: Fri, 2 Jun 2000 02:41:30 EDT From: Spliquidliquid@aol.com To: hoe@hoe.nu Subject: HOE SUBMISSION Multiple Inferiority Disorder Lock the bedroom door behind you when I'm not home Because I love you You're my poopshit We never can tell what he'll do next You tell me he'd kill someone just to see what its like And so I ask, You're not serious are you? There's always some neurotic or another around me What about those nightmares I keep having? About the previous one He's always around the corner Lurking right behind me I felt a pressure in my head Pushing both in and out simultaneously Like phantoms trying to molest my soul I'm leaving the paint out just in case you get bored Will you use it? I know where the paint is I know your tricks, my little jackass Maybe I will go back to her I say, Good Go conquer your old demons We're both conspicuously broken You're trying to beat me at my own game Turn my tricks back on me That's so cute I hear everything, you know And so I ask, She's always going to be there isn't she? Skulking in the shadows of my brain I know you mask reality with your silly jokes I didn't miss you yesterday, you know I wanted to hide from you In empty colorless stairwells Because we have Philistines Multiple inferiority disorders Personalities sprinting from past to present to future I don't know what it takes to get what I want Belief systems prove it to distant We're both a little funny in the head The Christians I laugh every time you say that That's why I love you And that movie wasn't so bad And Papa bear took that golden hair And made a sweater for baby bear Iggy, Iggy, Iggy You make my boyfriend laugh with your antics Oh yes, I know I've lost a little touch of reality What good is it to me anyway Money is the key to happiness Even we know that Nepal is just a fuel tank away my dear Scotland, and Ireland awaits you I'll be waiting, I'll be waiting too I can be a very patient girl My creativity knows no bounds I can try and try and try But I don't like it when I hear that voice It breaks my concentration Shifts things around in my head I know who I am to you But maybe you love her more I can only postulate her factors At least we've got the Christians to save us I wouldn't ever give you ultimatums We don't work that way But you left the bread open yesterday, again It's already getting crusty I know your tricks my little poophead Laugh at me, because I'm so cute And the visions keep coming full force Moping around my girl brain With my girlish hormones Is there anything else? And I tell you, I don't have to agree with you Or like the things you say All I have to do is love you and ignore the rest Escapism, maybe, but It works I can attest to that A Philistine, well, its just a real dirty person I watched that movie three times While you were on the phone with one And I cried my little girl tears Cradled in my little girl chair Dreaming of pretty monsters taking you away It won't happen Delirious, ramblings of hopeless hormones Oh just stop, its going to drive you nuts I'm going to come home and find you in here Looking at her picture, rocking back and forth Smearing feces in your hair I laugh at that, how can I not I love you, sometimes I love you a lot Everything jumbles together like marbles Clunking around in my chest I just don't want it to fall apart But it can Irrational terrors always creeping up my spine Sound patterns adhering to create a nervousness Every time I hear it all my brain waves scramble Polluted by other lives with other philistines Who are those other worldly philistines Who are these daily Christians I guess we'll keep the Christians and the philistines together After all, we don't really have a choice -Spliquid Liquid [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - 3y3 4m l3gend by Darks1de You see me comin and you can't remember my name, cuz you never touched my skillz and never had my game! Respected by the el33t and ph34red by l4m3! Hit the scene back in Nin3tY-0n3. Soon I was crashing every bbs under the mothafuckin sun, for fun, better gitch yo gun! Punk ass Renegade Sysops! I got you on the run! 40 year old loozers living with their moms, 14 year WaReZw0lvEz trying to make bombs. All these motherfuckers trying to play gods! Give me some shit cuz you got a big ego, but what do you know, ho, shove a virus up yo backdo'! Crashed so many boards that i set the fuckin record, that's right mothafucka, and my record was kept0r3d. Cuz you know i'm in it to win it, I c4n tYp3 iN /<-RaD aT 90 w0rDz p3r m1nUt3! Shelling to dos while slammin d0wn a beer uN huh just as you thought, my handle was ph34r! Then i moved on, to bigger and better things, partied with the legends and ran with the kings. Set Tone Loc to hang up after 5 rings! Dialed into Michnet, run by those mothafuckas Merit, soon i was all up in their systems like a motherfuckin ferret! Broke into Western, Laurel and Hardy, spit out jive like an English cockney! Arbornet, pilot, EMU and then GopherBLUE, that's right, i was the one who started the phrase "j00"! Who the fuck do you think it was? that brought you foolbert, hedbangyr and the hardcore oldschool motherfuckers who busted out The adventures 0f CaPtaIn /<-rAd, now its ripped off by every fucking other hacker mag. Delerium, Hogs_Head, and Fucking Hostile, all the sinnerz with their microwave dinners! BGR and HDK, the Drain E-ZiNe and the Trenchcoat Mafia, Twenty-six dead and I still ain't got caught! or bought! or even fucking sought! Not to even mention Mogel, AIDS, abigwar and the whole HOE crew. It's true, i was running all this shit back when this whole thing was brand new! Bought Mogel's soul with Wynona Ryder, never paid up cuz i'm a Liar! Liar! uh-huh. yeah, a Master of Deception. A h1p-ass m0ther-dr1p terrorist with no chance at redemption! w3rd! Left the 'zine scene for a couple of years, came back later to find it infested with queers. 800 zines written by angst ridden fucks, whining on and on about how much their life sucks. So, I told Mogel to drop that lame shit DTO and bring back the H0e. And the rest is history. Why did mogel kick out all the shitty writers, that's no mystery. Back in the day i used to get shit, bashing Emmanuel while you all were still on his dick! Leeching off the underground like a motherfuckin tick! Whining on and on about how "information wants to be free!", then take your SSN and your credit cards and fax 'em to me! 1-900-3l33-t! All the scene whores talking about ethical hacking, cuz their skills are lacking, spending all their time on IRC macking, nasty ass ho's but they end up jacking. off to Leisure Suit Larry six, sitting in front of the keyboard, stroking two inch dicks! Now our playgrounds filled with families and middle aged women, bitchin' about regulating the net to "save the children?@12!@?!@@?!" You motherfuckas sat back and cheered as it happened, bashed us all for trying to take some action. This shit is goin' out to all those who were darkside before darkside was darkside, You know who the fuck you is! And to all those bitch ass media whores out there: "I would not feel so all alone, everybody must get 0wned!" You's the same mothafuckaz that forgot about Dre! Un-hUh 2 th3 b00gY dont drop stop the b00gY b4ng............. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - Date: Sun, 2 Jan 2000 14:51:22 -0500 (EST) From: Angieb To: mogel@hoe.nu Subject: HOE SUBMISSION Pathetic in reality; yet manipulative in nature. She is sweet like honey. You lust for that sweetness, that innocence. You wish to take it from her, yet so simply such a thing will indubitably never happen. She has you fooled, the devil in disguise. You yearn to hold her close to your breast. To show this child the world. You take her by the hand and you guide her. She never questions anything, simply has a keen understanding for it all. Love her for her indifference, yet never anything more. She shall break you without a care. Obdurate defines her character with no flaw. Whisper your secrets to her for she shall tell no one. She'll never forget. Harm her and wish for sudden death. For such sweetness and innocence does not exist, you could never tell the difference for she wears a mask, a disguise, never revealing herself to anyone. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - APPLES by Trimmerhead Why do I feel so ashamed? I don't know why. Its nothing to be ashamed of. I waited until everyone was gone, then I got ready. I found what I needed to get it done. It was only to make me feel good. No one else could get any pleasure out of it, but then again what did I need to get pleasure from that for? Its not that I wasn't finding enjoyment from other places. I just don't know why I did it. It just seemed so fun to do. No one could get hurt from it either. They wouldn't be harmed, just disgusted. Why oh why did I have to do it? All I did was take a bite out of all the apples in the bin at the store. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - HOT AND HAZEY NIGHTS by pl0nk My downward spiral finally stoped and i hit the cement sidewalk with a stone cold thump. its been two years and seven months since i was caught. i've swallowed my pride to keep my life, serving my time in Thorold Penn. two beds, two inch thick mattress's, one toilet and one sink. no matter how bad it is on the inside, the outside is just a couple months away. prison life is simple, you wake up, you shower, you eat and you go back to your cell, you eat, you have an hour to work out or just socialize with those who you trust, back in your cell, out to eat and back to the cell again. Cell number 5 i shudder every time i pass it by. my pride diminished and my mind a wreck. they all knew what went down that one hot and hazy night. none of them would ever say a word but you can see it in their eyes. bite your tongue boy and don't say a word. there's nothing worse in a prison than some rotton cops and a big fat faggot biker. my parole has come up. they say i'll be getting out in may. joy. on the outside they wait. they wait armed with luggers and 9mms. im the rat. three of us were interrogated and two of us were sent to jail. im the sly fox who's been blamed for deceit and i will pay the ultimate price. i don't know what is worse, being used as a community whore or having someone wait on the outside, wait to shoot me in my head a couple times and spit on my lifeless body. the other day was visiting day. my mother and father came to visit, they despise me, i raised you better than this son. tears always come during these visits, it pains me enough to be here, but to see them and know that in their heads they are full of disgust and shame of their first born son, id rather be crucified. then a few friends try and make it down, usually only one or two will show up to see how i am. an act of toughness is portrayed by myself as i hear about the happenings in the town. pat had a kid a year ago, dave a kid a month ago, both engaged to their girlfriends. my sister is in college as is turning out to be an over achiever. my slayers still await, old friends and cousins are all away in college and university, others are pregnant and starting new families. FLASH---DARKNESS--- there's someone over there, they're all alone... look at the purse, i bet there's at least fitty bones in there, lets go get her. she was in her 30s, we didn't know it at the time but she was a prostitute coming back from her evening stroll. at first she wouldn't give us the money and than he had to knock her out. four hundred and twenty seven dollars. we dragged her into the bushes and fucked her while she was knocked out and left her in the bushes a couple days pass and we enjoy a couple nights of drunkenness and drugs. i was sleeping and it was around 2 in the afternoon, the cops busted down my bedroom door and took me to the cop station without giving me a chance to get dressed. it turns out we killed her. DUFFY---LIGHT--- lockdown. get to sleep you fucking idiots. i blow out the candle i had lit and put the book under my pillow. i could hear my room mate jerking off to a playboy, he did that often, most of us did aside from a few. the lone screams of a virgin ass could be heard from cell number 5. alas, the stench has lifted. this article was written and is dedicated to my good friend Bill Duffy. We'll see you when you get there. May 12th. [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - "Hitler was a Sensitive Man" by Phairgirl [19:14] I miss yuou so much [19:14] er [19:14] HAHAHHAHA [19:15] /clear [19:15] ahhahahaha [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- - REAL HELL by Zaff many and many years ago kurt vonnegut sold his soul in exchange for popularity in affluent suburbs. now he works in hell. though he certainly doesn't mind! every night he writes and writes and every day a condemned soul reads what he wrote the night before and tells him through clenched teeth that it is wonderful. what could be better? james spader does it for the love, all for the love. --------------- you went to hell for being an ass to women. you didn't even know it was a sin, they seemed to like it. but when you tried to tell satan that he just said that all he did was give eve a tasty treat and look where he ended up and then he cast you down. now everyday you go to your job as kurt vonnegut's editor. but of course you aren't allowed to edit anything. everyday all day you read what he wrote the night before, hundreds of pages, and every page a new and subtle reminder of how kind clever and rich is vonnegut. everyday all day you read what he writes and tell him through clenched teeth how wonderful he is over lunch as your stomach tightens. each day it's worse somehow, like when your brother used to pin you down and punch your arm until it bruised and then punch the bruise but worse because at least you didn't have to tell your brother over and over what a genius he was, or hear about his bouts with depression. when you finally get off work you have to slink over to a bar on the outskirts of downtown hell, but not to drink. there is a concert. there are only 23 musicians in hell and all of them play every night. every night the bands play, break up, and re-form into new bands the next day and play that night in new combinations. and it's all emo all the time. you stand in a smoke-filled room uncomfortably shifting your weight and longing for ear plugs and you always get trapped in the very front row. the worst part might be that you can never tell who is there to be punished, who is a demon, and who isn't even dead but just wandered in because they heard the guy who used to write some of the lyrics for joan of arc is playing that night. so you never know who is your comrade, who is your enemy, and whose ass you should just kick. it's a sea of disaffected faces, tight sweaters and blank faux-sensitive stares. a rich blonde girl who is dressed half-grunge but has a new wave haircut walks around wearing a backpack, cigarette cupped to the inside, handing out flyers for tomorrow night's show. you take one and she moves on. when the show is finally over, after 3 gut wrenching encores from the last band, when you fight your way to the door, it's off to your house, hell room 828. you walk in and your favourite ex-girlfriend is there. satan tells you later she's the one who never cheated on you. james spader is slumped in your corner, wearing wrinkled clothes like they're just a formality and smoking. he may be pissed off or just bored, no way to tell in this light. he's sullen though. your girl is on the bed, naked except for cowboy boots and a cowboy hat, just like even you were always too embarrassed to ask her to do. you walk over and you two begin to go at it like animals. she is reaching under the bed, for a lasso, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. the scene is unrehearsed. just like every night since you go there. spader is looking down at you, grinning, pantless and with his shirt hanging off him unbuttoned. he nods. you know what is going to happen. you are going to go make him a sandwich, just like he likes it. rye bread. plenty of ham and tomatoes. no lettuce, generous on the pickles and with the good mustard. you never think to protest, at all. there is something about him that implies once, a long time ago, somebody didn't do what he wanted and they are still picking shards of glass out of their sphincter. and as you walk away broken, as he slides into your girlie and thrusts hard a couple of times, he waits for her shrieks of joy to subside a moment and looks to you saying quietly, "don't jew me on the mustard, sport." [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] [ (c) HOE E'ZINE - http://www.hoe.nu - hoe@hoe.nu HOE #1100 - 6/16/00 ]