qn, d&&&&&&&&P ;P d&b d&&P ;P d' d' d' d&; d' ;P ;&,e&q, .c&&q, ;P`&; ;P .c&&q, ,c&&q, d' dP~ `b ;P' `& d' `&; d';P' `& ;P' `d ;P ;P ;P dB&&&&P ;P `&;;P dB&&&&P d P d&&P d' d' d' &, , d' `&d' &, , &, .,d' d&&P &&& &&& `&&&P' d&&P `P `&&&P' `&&&P , ,e&&&q,a ,nP' d' ;P' `d' "' d&&&P d' " ,c&&q, q&,e&q,e&q, q&P q&,e&q, ;P' ,c&&q, q&,e&q q&,e&q, ;P ;P' `d dP~ `B~ `b dP dP~ `b d' ;P' `& dP~ `P dP `b d' , d P ;P ;P ;P ;P ;P ;P ;P dB&&&&P ;P ;P ;P &, .,d' &, .,d' d' d' d' d' d' d' d' , &, , d' d' d' `Y&&&P' `&&&P' &&b ;P d&P &&b &&b d&P `&P' `&&&P' &&b &&b d&P odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo t h e n e o - c o m i n t e r n e l e c t r o n i c m a g z i n e I n s t a l l m e n t N u m b e r 5 2 .WE ARE THE 5th INTERNATIONAL .February 11th, 1999 .Editor: BMC .Writers: .Phrog .BMC odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo ";P' Featured in this installment: `$ $ My Date With A Young MooN MonStaRess- BMC ;P Vancouverbatim (1 of 2)- Phrog d' ;P d'. .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,; EDITOR'S NOTE Once again we find ourselves being assulted with criticisms from fans. "You guys are cruel and don't understand the plight of the pitiful MooN MoNsTarS." Oh, but we do! The battle against the MoOn MonStars is not unlike a double edged sword, because as much as we hate them, we love them with religious passion. In other news, Cog recieved a series of private and confidential messages from our friend Phrog. We are now posting these personal letters publicly for the amusement of the skeptics. odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo ";P' MY DATE WITH A YOUNG MoON MONSTARESS d' by BMC ;P d'. .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,; (a true story) Venom can touch every man's penis, right? This is known as the eternal question which man has pondered through the ages. Well, as my life began and ended within a short series of seconds, I came face to face with the girl of my dreams. She had something special which made me feel different than I had ever felt before. I instantly fell deeply in love with her, and found myself approaching this strange beauty who stood on the other side of the labratory. "I love you," I said to her, as I felt my entire blood mass drop to my feet. I stood there, semiconscious, expecting the herd-hitting rejection to emotionally destroy me and leave me as an incapacitated mound of zombified matter. What is the worst that she could say? Well, only a heart-crushing "I hate you," I suppose. Suddenly the blood pressure came back into my brain. She had smiled, and this was good. I nervously laughed and asked her if she would be interested in dating me. After a slight moment of pseudo-thought, she replied "Maybe." I called her house later that week with the intention of geting to get to know her better. This new girl was entirely mysterious, and made me extremely curious and excited. Though she definately made me nervous, I decided to go ahead and try to talk to her anyway. "Hello?" she said. I didn't know what to say. "Snoop not sat cut!" came from my lips, and I wondered what the hell I had just said to her. I was suprised to her her response: "I absolutely love you, BMC! See you at eight!" I didn't know where she lived, so I went from door to door until I found her house. "Oh, you're early," she said, and then we went out to watch an eight o'clock movie. She gave me a hand job in the theatre, and after I jizzed all over the popcorn we gave it to some kids outside in the lobby. That was funny. It seemed that I had found a soul mate, but could it possibly be true? Obviously not, because when we she was giving me head in the back alley, she stopped to let me know that she was half moOn moNstaR. Upon hearing those words, I spontaneously ejaculated, screaming "I I'am I be fat!" Then the fear suddenly struck me. Have rodents cried? I couldn't help but wonder what cosmic forces drove the universe, from the micro to the macro: what was I to do with a girl who belonged to a race that I had sworn an oath of hostility toward? One thing could be certain; Komrade B would not be present in the event of our wedding. Later we went to a fancy restaurant where she ate cool bread and I ate small pieces of her flesh. Through her MNA, I learned stories of her youth as well as her hopes, dreams, and desires. I had felt her warm soul, and I found myself to be falling in love. I love you, Moon mOnstaress! Komrade B kicked down the door and attempted to rape and kill the MonStareSs. I had no choice but to attack my brother to defend my one true love. I murdered the B, and placed him in a lead-lined coffin where I revived him with the mystical rod of revival. Then I promised to let him go only if he would spare the life and maidenhood of the young MonSTarESs. It was done, and he agreed to let the mOnstaRess live. The incident was soon forgotten, and we both lived on to marry and propogate. We had four sons, whom we named after the four fathers of the Comintern. We also had two girls who didn't get names, but grew up beautiful and were married to Komrade B. My MooN MonStar bride and I lived quite happily until disaster struck one winter's eve. We got into an argument one night and I ended arguing her whole body right into my stomach. Now she was dead, and I was feeling very full. Even though I had eaten my wife, she had won the argument, and I still had a bit of room left in my old stomach. I had a glass of gin and cola, and then I ate a half of a bowl of soup. It was a good meal. (To Be Continued...) odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo ";P' VANCOUVERBATIM d' by Phrog ;P d'. .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,; I been pretty busy cuz I just got a job on Tuesday, started on Wednesday, and I been workin 8 hours a day ever since. And that actually takes up about 11 hours out of every day, cuz I gotta ride the bus for about an hour just to get to the nice and slummy neighborhood where I get to work. Oh yeah. I work at a Shell pumpin gas and what not, but the job itself is actually pretty interesting. Between all the customers who don't speak English, the local junkies, the neighborhood punk kids and all the prostitutes that come in, it keeps a fella on his toes. The area isn't really all that bad (but there do be junkies, punks and a whole lotta ho's), it's just really close (geographically) to like the worst neighborhood in all of Van. By the way, I was exploring downtown and I noticed 2 strange things. First thing I noticed was that all of the homeless people (and there are a lot of them) seem to have dogs. It's weird. The second thing was the pornography. There's a disturbing number of "adult orientated" stores and this was in the fancy area. My kind of city! The other day I saw the coolest T-Shirt hangin in the window of one of the "adult orientated" stores. It said in big black letters, "Fisting: it's a hands in experience." So needless to say, I already know what to do when I get my first paycheque! Anyways, every time I step out of the apartment I seem to instantly get lost. The other day I had to go somewhere about 20 blocks away, so I took the bus there. On the way back I figured I knew a shortcut, but instead I ended up wandering around in the rain for about 2 and a half hours lost as sweet hell. I eventually found my way home just like Lassie! In fact, the day when I applied for my job I got off the bus like 25 blocks too early (me smart!), and wound up pretty lost. I saw a street name that I reCOGnized from the map I looked at back at home when I was figuring out how to get from point A to B. And the name of the street was, no word of a lie, "Blood Alley". When I had first seen the name on the map I figured it was some rustic little tourist-y type strip with a few old style pubs on it, so the voice in my head was all like, "yeah Toni this is great just go down Blood Alley, and then all will be good." So like a butt-hole I went down Blood Alley and quickly wound up totally lost in the worst neighborhood I've ever seen. It was a total cesspool and I was lost as hell in it. At one point, some rubby-assed old man stopped me to ask me if I was crazy. I don't know what the hell he meant, but I wasn't gonna ask him to clarify; I just wanted to know how to get out of this neighborhood (in a bizarre stroke of irony, it turns out this whole neighborhood is just blocks away from a big commercial, fancy-schmancy commercial type area). I eventually found a bus stop with the number of my bus on it. So after half an hour of being totally lost I was back on track and eventually made to the place I was lookin for. And to top off the crappy day I was havin', I got the job! (rats!) odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo ___________________________________________________ |THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S | |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| | BRING ON THE NIGHT (306) 373-4218 | | CLUB PARADISE (306) 978-2542 | | THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME (306) 373-9778 | |___________________________________________________| | Website at: http://members.home.com/comintern | | Email BMC at: thebmc@home.com | |___________________________________________________| odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo Copyright 1999 by The Neo-Comintern #52-02/11/99 All content is property of The Neo-Comintern. You may redistribute this document, although no fee can be charged and the content must not be altered or modified in any way. Unauthorized use of any part of this document is prohibited. All rights reserved. Made in Canada.