_ _ _ ____. _ _ ____. ____ FJ_ FJ L] F___ J F L L] F ___J F __ ] J _| J |__| L '-__| L J \| L J |___: J |--| L ______ | |-' | __ | |__ ( | |\ | | _____| | | | | |______| F |__-. F L__J J .-____] J F L\\ J F L____: F L__J J L______J \_____/J__L J__LJ\______/F J__L \\__LJ________LJ\______/F J_____F|__L J__| J______F |__L J__||________| J______F ___ ____ __ __ __ _ _ ____ ____. _ _ ,"___". F _ ] F \/ ] / J F L L] F___ ] F___ J _ ___ F L L] FJ---L] J |/ | L J |\__/| L LFJ J \| L'--7 / '-__| L J '__ ",J \| L J | LJ | | /| | | |'--'| | J L | |\ | / // |__ ( | |__|-J| |\ | | \___--. F /_J J F L J J J L F L\\ J J L.-____] J F L '-'F L\\ J J\_____/FJ\______/FJ__L J__LJ__LJ__L \\__LJ__LJ\______/FJ__L J__L \\__L J_____F J______F |__L J__||__||__L J__||__| J______F |__L |__L J__| -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 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 1 5 3 We Are the New International May 6th, 2001 Editor: BMC Writers: Spite BMC d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b. ;P Featured in this installment .b $ $ $ A Guide to Successful One Night Stands - Spite $ $ Things That I Am Afraid Of: Elevators - BMC $ `q p' `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn' EDITOR'S NOTE (please do not read the following) Welcome to another wholesome issue of the Neo-Comintern. Oh my god, did I really say that? That's embarassing. The most embarassing thing about it is my admission of embarassment. Oh god, now I am analyzing my own writing as I write it. Oh my god... now I'm analyzing my own self-analysis? Is this the right forum for this self-aware tripe? I'm taking it too far. Now I am "cleverly" attempting to distance myself from the core of this editor's note to the Nth degree. But no matter how much I change the subject my consciousness remains rooted in the center of it. How depressing. And corny. And lame. And probably cliche. And how truly unaware this so-called-awareness will seem some day. Probably just a lame trick fot the trick of it and nothing more. Well, enjoy the issue anyway. d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b. ;P A GUIDE TO SUCCESSFUL ONE NIGHT STANDS .b `q by Spite p' `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn' One night stands are not as simple as they may seem to the untrained eye. There are the issues of disease, pregnancy and also the chance that your entire Mariah Carey cd collection will be stolen by your mysterious and obscenely drunk paramour. But since everyone who is able to read has the capacity to practice safe sex, a warning about that is completely unnecessary. That said, we can embark on the magic carpet ride that is the one night stand. First of all, there is a misconception that it is only ok for men to have one night stands. This makes no sense! Just who the hell are they supposed to be paticipating in said activities with? Our society is overrun with double standards, ones that make it cool for men to have casual sex and brands a woman as promiscuous or loose for doing the exact same thing. Let's face facts here. People need sex. That means both guys and gals get the urge to get horizontal from time to time. There are times when sex within a loving relationship just isn't feasible, and that's when a one night stand comes in handy. All right, let's get down to business. The first thing you need to do is get ready to go out. There should be some amount of primping involved here. Perhaps a decent amount of make-up, some nice perfume and proper club scene attire. Moderation is definitely the key to looking good. No one wants to go out looking and smelling like a five-dollar K-Mart crack whore. And please, don't forget to wear some decent looking underwear. How humiliating could it possibly be to be getting down and then realise you're still wearing your ratty old laundry-day emergency gitch? Save yourself the horror of this experience and wear something somewhat sexy. Now that you're all dressed up, you're going to need someplace to go. I would suggest rounding up a few friends to go out with, because nothing is more sad than cruising the bars by yourself. Try and find a place that's known for its good music and even better crowd. Once you get to the bar, buy yourself a drink and mingle mingle mingle! And in the words of some wise man whose name evades me right now, Dance motherfucker dance! There's no better way to evaluate prospective pick ups than to check them out on the dancefloor. You can be sure that you're being sized up as well. So bust a move, shake that ass, or do whatever it is you do out there. Another way to meet people is by striking up conversation while waiting in line at the bar, but this can be tedious because of the atrocious noise level. But, if it helps, keep it at just small talk. I mean, no one wants to know about great aunt Josephine's gall bladder surgery, so keep it light. If it turns out that the person you've had your eye on is a complete dolt, then get yourself out of there and move on to the next one! Once you've found someone satisfactory and you're pretty sure that they're also interested in you, suggest dancing or maybe getting a table together and slamming back a few cold ones to prepare for the big event. After last call has been made and the lights are on, it's time to decide where you'll be going. It's always best to go to his place, for the sake of an easy exit afterwards. When you're on his turf, it's better to just follow his lead and go with the flow. Of course, things will eventually lead to mattress surfing, so long as neither of you has consumed mass quantities of alcohol and passed out before this point. Be forewarned that drunk sex is usually equivalent to bad sex. Be a trooper though and give it your all, bad or good because no one wants to be remembered as a terrible lay! It is also commonplace to just spend the night after all is said and done, unless things have gone absolutely awful and you are feeling an uncontrollable urge to get the hell outta Dodge. While a "Fuck and Run" is usually deemed sleazy, sometimes it is an absolute necessity. But let's say you've spent the night and now morning has finally rolled around. When getting out of bed do not try to fool anyone with false modesty by covering up with that giant blanket or bedsheet. Remember, this is someone who has seen all of you. Gather up your belongings from wherever they were heedlessly tossed to the night before and get dressed. Maybe duck into the bathroom for a few minutes to remedy that nasty case of bedhead and straighten yourself up. It's always hard to know how long to stick around in the morning, but try not to overdo it. Sometimes breakfast may be suggested, be it at his place or out at some restaurant. When it is time to go home, phone numbers and pleasantries may be exchanged. This does not mean that something serious is beginning to grow from the previous night's activities. Do not delude yourself into thinking so! And just because he asked for your phone number does not mean that he is going to call you. You can bet your sweet ass that he's not going to spend the next few weeks sitting by the phone anxiously awaiting your call, either. Your effectiveness depends on your attitude. It's not called a one night stand for nothing. It's hard not to get caught up in the moment and think that there might be something between the two of you, but don't fool yourself into thinking there is. If you go into it with a positive attitude and realise that it's a completely acceptable method of having one-time, no strings attached sex, then you will be quite successful in your endeavors. But if you don't, you could end up bitter and alone and while away the rest of your miserable days writing 'How-To' articles. d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b. ;P THINGS THAT I AM AFRAID OF: ELEVATORS .b `q by BMC p' `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn' This is the one I think about most often. Inside every elevator there is a console of buttons, each one bearing the number of a floor. My problem is that whenever I walk into an elevator I seem to turn the wrong way. This means that I walk in and turn one hundred and twenty-five degrees left or right. No matter which direction I turn it is always to the discovery that I am facing the wrong side of the elevator and must turn yet another ninety degrees to press my floor button. It is a simple matter of mathematics to determine that, at this point, I would have been better to turn one hundred and forty-five degrees in the opposite direction that I had just turned two hundred and fifteen degrees in! But now it's too late, because here I am, finally looking at the console that will allow me to select the floor of choice. But after my 215 degree spin I find myself ready to do anything but hit buttons in an elevator. One thing, for example, that I feel like doing is crying, screaming, passing-out, falling against the side of the elevator, vomiting, and hiding my head. It's a dizzying experience and often results in joint pain when I hyperextend my neck an extra ninety degrees in order to be sure that there is a console in this elevator at all and that I am not going to be trapped here for the rest of my dizzy, humiliated days. Oh yes, the humiliation. The last thing I want to do on any given day is to spin a sweet 215 in front of a total stranger or perhaps an elevator full of them. The closest feeling I can imagine that may be anything like this would be finding yourself completely naked except for a purple cape while at granma and grampa's 50 year anniversary party. It's enough to make me avoid elevators for life, and I do avoid them as much as I can. But it's good for me like that. When I walk up and down the stairs I give my body an excellent workout; I can feel the pounds dripping away. It's like a dream come true - a heaven on earth for someone who never believed much in heaven or earth that much in the first place. It's changed my life, really. Everytime I go someplace where I know I will be climbing a flight of stairs or two I will ready myself up, grey sweatpants and sweatshirt, a navy blue headband and some hot red white and blue wristbands that I have had locked in a top secret safe (here read "taped up inside a cardboard box") since I was a young tyke of eight years old who used to wear them with pride, pretending I was a secret member of the A-Team. I tell you, these jaunts up and down the stairs have made me feel young again and I'm talking single digits. It's like a new world has opened up to me, a brave new world - no wait, a new England - no wait, Eden. Yes, that's it, Eden has returned, its doors have opened up and accepted me. Once again I am able to view the world through the eyes of a child. Everything is vibrant and nothing taken for granted. I'm innocent, I'm happy, I'm energetic, I'm brave. It's a new world for me. Sometimes, when I have to go to the tenth or twentieth floor, sometimes when there are too many steps for my feeble earth-body to climb, sometimes I have to take the elevator, and at those some times I become very frightened. There is but one technique I have learned to prevent the 215 spin; I walk straight into the elevator's doors and try to unfocus my eyes as much as possible, as though I were looking at a magic eye puzzle or something of the like. Instead of looking at the back wall of the elevator (which no sane person would find necessity in anyway) I focus all of my visual power in the peripheral. I believe that if I concentrate hard enough that I can see more than what is occurring in the hundred-and-eighty degrees immediately in front of me. If I try, like if I REALLY try, I can see an extra 10 to 20 degrees behind myself on each side, allowing myself to scan both sides of the elevator and determine which side the console is located on. This technique works approximately 80% of the time, which is not at all satisfactory considering the degree of eyestrain that it causes me. When I was a child the optimologist said I would never need glasses, but now he seems to be changing my prescription every week. Going down is the easy part. I stand waiting by the elevator, and if the door opens and nobody is on it then I just wait for the next one to arrive. As soon as I see somebody else riding the instrument of humiliation I walk onto it and close my eyes until the elevator stalls to a stop and the door opens. Then I get out. Most of the time this will lead me to the main floor, but if I end up somewhere in between I will just wait for another elevator to come to my floor or, if I'm all the way down to the second or third floor, I'll just go into the washroom and change into my jogging gear. Another problem taken care of. Sometimes I wonder if my relationship with elevators is a blessing or a curse. My heart doctor and my eye doctor would probably give two different answers, but if you want to know what I think, just check out the elevator in my apartment. You'll notice that the back of it is mirrored in such a way that you can see the entire inside of it as soon as the door opens. I paid for that mirror with my own money; the landlord installed it himself but he did not compensate me for it in any way. .d&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&b. ___________________________________________________ |THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S | |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| | TWILIGHT ZONE (905) 432-7667 | | 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 | |___________________________________________________| .d&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&b. Copyright 2001 by The Neo-Comintern #153-05/06/01 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.