_ _ _ ____. _ _ ____. ____ 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 7 We Are the New International June 10th, 2001 Editor: BMC Writers: Jay P BMC d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b. ;P Featured in this installment .b $ $ $ Fucking on the Phone - BMC $ $ The Riddel Centre Breakfast War - Jay P $ `q p' `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn' EDITOR'S NOTE (please do not read the following) Although the popsicle was for you (my friend) the world was too hot and I had to eat it on the way home in case it melted so I am giving you this sentence instead. d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b. ;P FUCKING ON THE PHONE .b `q by BMC p' `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn' Four o'clock in the afternoon and I've been up for half an hour. Things aren't the same since she went on vacation with her family. I know it's only been a month since we met, but after the togetherness I couldn't imagine anything else. And now I can't imagine anything but loneliness. I look at the phone hoping for it to ring. It doesn't. I try to watch some tv to get my mind off her but there's that milk commercial with that song that almost makes me cry and I think I'm going to. Suddenly, the phone rings. "Julia" I guess. Yes it is my love, calling from hot Florida. We fuck on the phone for hours and then I say, "So how's the vacation?" It's good, as I suspected. Seconds later her dad approaches her and asks her not to run the calling card up too much. I think to myself that if I were her dad I would fuck her little brains out right now. She says goodbye she loves me, and she hangs up/ I button up my smock and head over to the verbal paintboard. Something Julia said gave me the idea for a good line, now I just need a story to put it in. d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b. ;P THE RIDDEL CENTRE BREAKFAST WAR .b `q by Jay P p' `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn' The combatants approached the steel beast that spewed fire and brimstone. They asked for their weapons of choice; Alan the Admirable received easy over eggs, three strips of bacon, two hash browns and brown toast complemented with one strawberry fruit spread. His enemy, Jeff the Determined received similar hardware with slight modifications. Instead of bacon, he asked for two slices of ham and received two spreadable fruit packets. The two gentlemen had experienced this duel on a regular basis. Victory had always sided with Alan the Admirable and today Alan had plans of delivering the coup de gras against his foe. However, JP had other aspirations. The two veterans took their place on the battlefield of rolling tables and chairs. The glint off the plastic fork shone in JP's eyes; today victory would be his. The combatants lined themselves up in the traditional format, not unlike the wars fought in Europe back in the 1800's; rows upon rows of soldiers lined up in a uniform, orderly fashion wearing their traditional blue and white and red jerkins, armed with lethal muskets. The only difference here was that there was only two combatants rather than hundreds, and rather than the traditional uniforms, Al wore his Smashing Pumpkins T-shirt and Jeff dressed in his Pearl Jam T-shirt. Instead of muskets, both wielded plastic fork and knife with deadly precision. The art of warfare began. Al took up first, devouring his deep fried hash browns first. Jeff followed suit keeping pace with his opponent. Next, Al started on his greasy strips of bacon while Jeff smeared the spreadable fruit upon his toast. To an outside observer, these two appeared to be in non-competition, holding general chit-chat with each other. But the two fierce competitors knew what was at stake. Both knew that they were putting on nothing but a facade. Al had finished his bacon and began to eat his toast. Jeff had fallen behind, but this was what happened on a regular basis. Al was remarkably quick; never had Jeff won. Al bit into his toast, smiled sinisterly with a slight chuckle, nodding his head and rubbing his hands together with a napkin between his palms. He reeked of confidence. The battle continued and had come down to this: Al with two bites of egg left, Jeff with half a piece of toast, which was customary for cleanup of the eggs' yoke. Jeff noticed that victory would be Al's if he didn't do something. Jeff shoved half the toast into his mouth as Al nonchalantly slipped the egg in his. Everything seemed to be travelling in slow motion at this point. Jeff knew what he had to do. As Al pierced the last piece of egg with his fork Jeff pointed over Al's shoulder and said "Al, look." The ploy didn't work and Al began to rise the fork up to his mouth. All hope was lost if that egg made it to Al's gapping mouth. But a glimmer of hope came into sight when the egg slipped from the fork, landing on the plate with a jiggle from the impact. Jeff tried one last time knowing that this was his last chance. With more urgency than before, Jeff said "Al, look!" and pointed behind Al again. This time, Al turned around and said "what?" as he scanned the battlefield behind him. Jeff took this opportunity to finish off his toast, just as Al turned back around and gulped down his egg. Victory belonged to Jeff. On that fateful day through some master subterfuge, Jeff prolonged this one sided duel and it has yet to be resolved. Will this small victory be enough to sway the tide of the Breakfast War? Only time will tell... Only time will tell... .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 #157-06/10/01 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.