- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ---l-u-k-e-w-a-r-m--- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -g-r-a-n-d-i-o-s-e- -i-n-a-u-g-u-r-a-l- -i-s-h- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -i-s-s-u-e-#-1- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -3-.-1-1-.-9-7- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The Birth of a Steaming Pile of Putrid Shit compiled by the lukewarm b-team introduction by godspat Hi, and thanks for reading this, our very first issue of our new "zine," lukewarm. Lukewarm used to be called Tasteless Diahrrea Disposal, but we all kind of suspected that we were spelling Diahrrea wrong, and as such, abandoned that title. Then for a short term of delusional idiocy, we called the yet-to-be-written magazine Testosterone and Prozac, but we didn't know much about either. We've now made the successful transition to this utterly bland, nondescript, emotionless kind of name. Because, goddammit, that's how we feel. As soon as the word was out on the street that we at lukewarm would actually be getting together to compile a text-zine, a bunch of dedicated and sorely misguided assholes wrote in questions, asking us all kinds of mindless shit. What follows is a partial transcript of this sporadic inquisition. Thanks for joining us on this whacky, drug-induced ride. Signed, Your pals at lukewarm. ------------------------------ the moment you've been mildly waiting for, even though you didn't know it: Lukewarm's Official Premiere Fudge-Flavored FAQ WHAT THE HECK IS A FAQ? No one knows for sure. Our best guess is Fuck All Questions. Which is what we're trying to do in this no-holds-barred, come-one-come-all, free-speech-debate round-robin inquisition extravaganza. WHY DO YOU NEED A FAQ? We do because we are important and we have big brains. FAQ'S MAKE ME SICK. You make me sick. Go fuck yourself. I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE-- I know exactly how you meant it. Get out of my sight before I begin projectile vomitting. SO THIS IS SOME KIND OF ELECTRONIC ZINE OR SOMETHING? That wasn't even remotely resembling a question. Don't you play Jeopardy? SORRY, ALEX. WHAT IS SOME KIND OF ELECTRONIC ZINE OR SOMETHING? That's correct. SO FAR, (I MEAN, I HATE TO BE RUDE) BUT THIS ENTIRE FILE HAS BEEN SOMEWHAT OF A DISAPPOINTMENT FOR ME AND MY ASSOCIATES. I have pictures of you and your associates. And you know what I mean. WHAT IS THE POINT OF ALL THIS? The point is submission. The point is dominance. The point is in getting the point across until the point is so heart-wrenchingly ingrained in the fucked-up psyche of every human being on this pathetic half of the earth (that's the half with the sunlight) that your Grandma will call you up, and cry into the receiver, for twenty-seven hours on end, without any succor or personal relief whatsoever. Look. We're a group of pretty fucked up people. And you're either pretty fucked up too, or else you're some sort of sick asshole who just likes reading about fucked up people. But if you are indeed of the latter group, then SURPRISE! You're tremendously fucked up, as well. Your entire life to date has been a revolting ruse. We hope you die. ARE YOU ALL ACTUALLY THAT PISSED OFF? Not really. In all truthfulness (and all modesty aside--don't you hate the stuff?), we're a diverse group of painfully intelligent human beings. In all likely honesty, we're a lot smarter and simply better than you are, ever have been, or ever will be. By reading our stuff, you'll maybe begin to see new things that you never saw. Maybe you'll scoff, move on to the next repulsive Java-drenched website and grin your fool face off, only to be shot down by stray gunfire tomorrow at 3:14 at the bus stop. There is nothing that is not words. There is no point in being alive if you're just going to sit on your biscuit-hued ass and soak up gravy. We've taken an alternative approach, mostly out of the severest type of boredom and self-hatred or social doubt. We want to write stuff. And quite honestly, we want people to read it. We do not, however, want them to like it. We hope that, no matter how much you idolize us or our publication from this date forth, that we will publish something that makes you cringe and shakes your faith in everything you've ever believed in. We're conceited assholes, but what choice have you left us? There may be no great cause. There is only the work. Minimal and pathetic that it may very well prove to be. Maybe the author, at the time of the writing, will derive some minimal, twisted pleasure from the creation of the thing. But the thing, invariably, will turn on its creator, and swallow us all. And you're just going to stand by and watch, finger up your ass. I'M NOT NEARLY SO COMPLACENT AS MY PARENTS SAY I AM. Well, Bobby-Sue, good for you! Maybe there's hope yet! WHAT I MEANT TO SAY WAS CAN I JOIN? It's not a club. If it was a club, it would be the type that doesn't have members. If it was a club with real actual breathing thinking members, it would be that type of club but without new members. And if it did accept new members, you couldn't join. WHY? You suck. WELL, IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO? Probably not. But if you want, go ahead and try to impress us. WHO CAN WRITE FOR LUKEWARM? Anyone. Submissions are always welcome, but more than likely scoffed at and defecated upon. (I'm sorry, Mom, that was policy! I'm not making this shit up!) We will print anything we like. We don't like much. We don't even particularly like ourselves. If we were doing this for a living, we wouldn't even publish the crap WE write, because it's such disjointed refuse. BUT ISN'T THIS THE FIRST ISSUE? Fuck, you're right. So we haven't actually written any refuse, but we will. May this be my solemn vow. Getting back to the submissions thing, send them in, by all means. Or don't. I don't give a fuck. I really don't. I'm just trying with all my heart to get abducted by UFO's. DO YOU THINK YOU'RE WITTY? Unequivocally, yes. DO YOU ACTUALLY EXPECT TO COMPETE WITH ALL THE QUALITY PUBLICATIONS OUT THERE? No. WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR INFLUENCES? Bread, mostly. Not the band, but the food item. (Whoa-ho-ho! Archaic fucking allusion, man!) I can't speak for everyone here, but I eat a lot of bread. And Teri Hatcher. And testosterone. And prozac. And that new U2 album. I mean... wow. WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR TURN-ONS? Teri Hatcher. The new U2 album. Prozac. Estrogen. DO YOU ACTUALLY LIKE TERI HATCHER OR ARE YOU JUST MAKING FUN OF ALL THE LOSERS WHO DEVOTE THEIR ENTIRE LIVES TO THE PRAISE OF AN UNATTAINABLE IDEAL? AND THEREFORE CAUSE THE PEOPLE IN THEIR IMMEDIATE RELATIONS TO SUFFER AS A RESULT OF IT? I'm sorry... the latter. SHOULD I EVEN ASK ABOUT U2? I don't think it's necessary, anymore. WHERE IS YOUR MANDATORY CLOSING SIGNATURE ASCII-GRAPHIC LOGO THINGY? + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +this has been+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +lukewarm + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +premiere issue (collector's item)+ + + + + + + + + +submissions: lukewarm@bbs.bplanet.com+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +I can't imagine WHERE the fuck you got a hold of this. + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + Much cooler signature graphic coming up next issue. + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +