============================================================================ ============================================================================ (Blank space is good!) ÖÒ·,,.._ ÖÒ·,,.._ ÖÒ·,,.._ Radioactive Aardvark Dung. ÓÐÐÐ888$$$b, ÓÐÐÐ888$$$b, ÓÐÐÐ888$$$b, Endorsed by Tom Selleck! _____ yyy __ '4$$b yyy __ '4$$b yyy __ '4$$b ________________________ ~~~~~ $$$ ~~~ 8$$yy$$$ ~~~ 1$$| $$$ ~~~ 1$$| ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ xxxxx $$$ x ,d$HAJI$$$ xxxx ;SS$y$$$ xxxx ;$$$ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ÒÒÒÒ· $$$Òqyd$$$P~_ $$$ ÖÒÒ¿ ;iiHAJI$ ÖÒÄ 1$$| ,ÖÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒÒ· ÐÐÐн $$$ÐÐÐÐ4$$b ' $$$ ÓÐÐÙ :;;;_$$$ Ó" ,d$$P ÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐÐн $$$ ~4$$bÒÒ$$$Ò·Ö¿ ¿ùù::: $$$ÒÒqd$$8Ð~ $$$ ~ÐÐÐÐÐÐнÓÙ Ù ùùù ÓÐÐÐн"~ ============================================================================ ============================================================================ Radioactive Aardvark Dung E-Zine :: ISSN 1092-5449 Issue #16 % Released May 30, 1997 Without Prejudice and Explicit Reservation of All My Rights, UCC 1-207 ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Argh, ANOTHER Editorial?" as screamed like a little girl by TMM E-Mail: chris41@juno.com Damnit, I have to write another one of these. Fortunately, times haven't changed & I can't think of a damn thing to talk about in this "forum" to my readers. So I'm not going to break from the trend, I'm going to continue my little editorial "strike" & not write anything meaningful or substantial in here whatsoever. This is not because I no longer agree with the idea of writing an Editorial, mind you, it's just that I need to have some excuse for not having any fucking clue what to write about anymore. I don't have advice for you, I don't have any socially important things to say (that wouldn't get edited out by other RAD Staff members) or really anything funny to say at all. That point will be made rather obvious as the you continue reading the issue. Anyhow, because I'm feeling so dumb & stupid for not being able to think of a single thing to say right now I'm going to feel sorry for myself & you get to read about it. So here we go. The following are ten reasons I'm the most under- appreciated 'zine editor ever. Enjoy it because it's at my expense, asshole. 10. I had to edit the unlucky number 13 issue. 9. I'm of a different nationality than Mercuri & Handle & therefore am discriminated against. 8. I don't write anything funny so they think they can push me around. 7. I'm smarter than all of you so you envy & shun me. 6. I never get any credit for anything I do. Never any e-mail or IRC feedback on anything I write. At least have the decency to tell me I suck. 5. I have completely different political views on everything from Mercuri & Handle so they hate me for it. 4. I'm older, therefore distrusted. 3. I don't even have a "Bio" on the RAD homepage. Even people like Halo8 (no offense) have Bios & they've only written for RAD once. It would make sense that one of the EDITORS would have a Bio. 2. My name (TMM) begins with a "T" which is higher on the alphabet so I'm always listed last & thereby a socially constructed hierarchy is shaped around me keeping me under the iron fist of Mercuri & Handle & also blurring me into non-extistence. An example: "TMM who?" 1. I only have one factoid on the factoid page on the homepage. So you see why I have my angst & why I have some sort of mental blockage towards writing editorials. I can't seem to get over the feeling that someone is watching me & that you all hate me & aren't really reading this anyways. I'm a loser & don't let anyone tell you different. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ This issue of Radioactive Aardvark Dung contains the work of a certain celebrity who is supposed to be dead. He is writing under the pen-names TMM, Mercuri, Intrepid, Styx and Haji to fool and lull all of you readers into submission. His identity will be kept secret for now and will be revealed when he implements his plan to take over the world. Radioactive Aardvark Dung E-Zine is simply a platform for him to build followers, brainwash them and then use them as puppets under his iron fist of absolutism. Elvis lives!!! ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "RAD News" this time by Tom Brokaw's rival, Dan Rather (TMM) E-Mail: chris41@juno.com Did you really think I would use that stupid drunk joke again in this article? So did I until just about three seconds ago when instead of typing something like "Hi, I'm drunk just like Tom Brokaw." I typed what you're reading now. Actually three seconds is a bit of an exaggeration, I don't really type that fast (though I'm SORTA quick) but I decided to write three instead of ten because it was funnier. I'll sell my soul to make you laugh you lucky bastard. "Hey Cool Thing, what I really wanna know is, what are you gonna do for me?" -- Sonic Youth That's what I want to know. Writing an issue of RAD isn't easy, I've already spoken of this once before in a crazed editorial but I think I should reiterate it. Writing funny (at least, stuff that is intended to be funny) articles takes a little while. It takes just a bit longer when you don't have any help. Unfortunately, two unnamed RAD editors, Handle and Phorce, felt like we didn't need any of their help this issue. Obviously we did. This issue is in no way, shape or form as funny as it could've been. Granted, I've had my absences in the past but they never had to do all of this. So in this issue, the only members of the RAD High Society (Mercuri, Handle, Me and Phorce) that will be featured will be myself (obviously!) and Mercuri. But we do have outside help! (Which is a tragedy in and of itself but that's another story.) Styx wrote us three cool submissions that you will certainly be privelaged enough to read in a few short minutes. Our man Styx sure does excel under heavy competition from they multitude of other submitters... he even recruits them for us, as in the case of Haji writing us his golden submission. I bet you also noticed the schnazzy new logo at the top, also courtesy of Haji. Everyone send out a warm welcome E-Mail to Haji in his virgin RAD appearance. Remember to be gentle, he is a virgin after all. But wait! That's not it, at the last minute (when pretty much the entire issue was written) our new favorite person in the entire world Intrepid decided to honor us with several of his quality submissions. This crazy Canuck from Winnipeg has lots to say and we're glad he's saying it. We're so glad in fact that on the behalf of myself, Mercuri and the rest of the so far absent RAD High Society I'd like to bestow upon Intrepid the RAD Submittee of the Month Award. The prize that Intrepid will be recieving is a full-time expectation of many submissions per issue from now on. Also, as if this was anything flashy or glamorous, Intrepid will get FREE sex with Phorce's mom. Which of course comes with all the "flied lice" he wants. But aside from that, this issue is simply the brainchild of Mercuri and I. We aren't mad at Handle and Phorce, just a little disappointed. We understand that they were a bit too busy to write anything (!!) at all for us and it's alright. This is by no means a complaint, only an informative statement to our readers who might be worried about the health of two of our best writers. ANYWAYS, I've worn that subject to death. Sometime in the near future rad.edu will be up. That depends on how much work Phorce is willing to put into that (I fear!) and if the proper variables fall into place according to Mercuri's Master Plan [tm]. Also look for Bootleg RAD #3 which should be coming out sometime during this summer (another of Phorce's projects) and will feature lots and lots of HILARIOUS funnies that due to whatever mistakes or constraints didn't make the pages of RAD. Not to say those submissions are bad, they're just special! Special is cute, and so is Bootleg RAD, so read it, love it and write for us and maybe YOU TOO will someday become a part of our infamous Bootleg staff. Speaking of cute, haven't you always dreamed about meeting Mercuri, Handle, and possibly myself (the illustrious genius' behind these very words) in person? Don't worry, we won't laugh at you, we'll be too busy laughing at all of the other 'zine kids that'll be there. YES, OTHER 'ZINE KIDS. Of what grassroots movement gathering am I speaking? The one and only Dummercon 3, the summer event where the entire international 'zine scene gets together and look bleary-eyed at each other at amazement while calling each other by handles instead of our real names. Sure, other writers of other great 'zines will be there but that isn't important to you, is it dear loyal reader? The important part is that WE, RAD E-ZINE INCARNATE, will be in attendance. So you should come too! For more info check out the Official Dummercon 3 web-page at : http://www.dto.net/ Hope to see you there! Lastly on our agenda for this evening is the unfortunate subject of our tardiness. We shall deal with this shortly and sweetly. Okay, WE ARE LATE, DEAL WITH IT. Stay tuned for more entertaining news in the next issue of Radioactive Aardvark Dung, until then, read this issue over and over again. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ Beware of the secret subliminal messages in this issue. Note: The previous sentence was NOT a subliminal message. ============================================================================ ==============================================================kill=your=mom= This Just in! VIRTECH -- A Vancouver, British Columbia Web Development company -- is offering $7,500.00 to the first hacker who can crack its server. SEVEN THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS. If anyone knows how to hack that server I'll give them 3/4ths of the money in exchange for the URL! C'mon, it's a good deal! E-Mail chris41@juno.com if you're interested. Have a nice day. ========================================================================================== ========================================================================================== "H.R. 421; A New Policy Proposal to Remedy the Problems of the War on Drugs" as legislated by Mercuri E-Mail: jwapienn@pla-net.net I think I have figured out how to win the War on Drugs. Here's what we should do. We take a kid from high school and bring them to the elementary schools. Then take them from class to class and point out their poor grooming, dress, smell and intelligence. By now the kids are already convinced, but we must go further. For a week straight we should subject elementary school children to tapes of their conversations, their slow, drawn-out speech, their crappy poetry and poor writing skills. Then at the end of this "Drug Prevention Week" we can bring the high school kid back and once again display him in front of the class. "Okay boys and girls, today's new word is 'Loser.' Can you say 'Loser?'" "LOSER!" "What's a Loser? Show me a Loser, class. Point to the Loser!" And they will all point to the high school kid. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Gordon, the Guy Who Says Stupid Shit a Lot" as told from the first person by Styx E-mail: dropdead@mindspring.com PART ONE: Gordon Goes Shopping! Gordon merrily pranced down aisle four, humming along to the muzak drifting down from the speakers in the ceiling. Part-way down the aisle, he spied some cereal boxes and noticed a new design on the front cover of Lucky Charms. "Hello!" Gordon exclaimed. "What's this?" He realized that Lucky The Leprechaun had introduced yet another marshmallow in his glucose pantheon; a peach-colored, erect penis. The picture on the box depicted Lucky watching a young, freckle-faced young boy give fellatio to the new Charm. "That's curious!" exclaimed Gordon, and walked to aisle five. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Scooby-Doo Mysteries, Volume I" as narrated by TMM E-Mail: chris41@juno.com [Reprinted with permission from myself from Relish E'Zine, copyright TMM] [Note:This is a heavily edited & revised version from the original which] [appeared in Relish Six on October 31, 1996. To get a copy of said issue] [or any other issue of Relish go to ftp://ftp.etext.org/pub/Zines/Relish] Fade in. The Mystery Machine is driving through a certainly scarey place. As usual, Freddy is driving, Daphne has shotgun & is giving Freddy head, Velma is really nowhere to be found, & Shaggy & Scooby are smoking a bowl on Scooby's two foot Graffix bong. Shaggy: "Like, where are we?" Freddy: "We're going to Auntie Ann's new house, it's a little beat up & she needs our help to fix it up!" Shaggy: "Like, if she has food, then Scoob & I are all for it!" Freddy: "C'mon gang!" [-----] Fade in. They are in Auntie Ann's kitchen & Shaggy just made a three foot tall sandwhich. Mmm, the munchies. Auntie: "Well, I'm so glad you kids got here, this is a big house & I can't fix it up alone!" Freddy: "No problem, Auntie!" Daphne: "Mm-hmm!" Freddy: "Well Auntie, we're tired & want to get some sleep for tomorrow." Auntie: "Ok, there are some bedrooms upstairs, you kids make yourself at home." Freddy: "Oh we will!" Auntie: "Oh yes, I suppose I should tell you this first, there's an old legend that the old owners were all killed by some guy named Old Man Withers & now a ghost haunts this dump." Velma: "Well, we aren't afraid of ghosts, are we gang?" Freddy: "We'll chance it, Auntie. See you in the morning!" Auntie: "Goodnight!" Fade out for a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System, which was only a test, we repeat, it was only a test. [-----] Fade in. Shaggy & Scooby have finished smoking & are thoroughly trashed. Freddy & Daphne are still in their room with the door closed. Velma is nowhere to be found. Ghost: "I'm haunting this place!" Shaggy: "Holy fuck, this is bad-ass bud!" Scooby: "I'll say!" Ghost: "I'm gonna kill you!" Scooby: "Oh my God!" Velma: "Look, Scooby found a clue!" Paper: "I'm Old Man Withers, I killed all of the people that used to live here because there is buried treasure somewhere underneath the house, too bad I can't find it & have to haunt the place to scare people away until I find it." Freddy: "Aha! We have you now! Did you think you could get away from us? Auntie, I'd like to show you your Ghost! Here's RED HERRING!!" BOB DOLE!!> Freddy: "Bob Dole?" Bob Dole: "& Bob Dole would've gotten away with it if it hadn't been for you snooping kids!" Velma: "Wait, you didn't do anything Bob Dole!" Bob Dole: "I know!! But Bob Dole just stumbled into the linen closet while looking for some dame named Daphne's room! I was told to look for you if I wanted to 'relieve my post-election woes.'" Shaggy: "So, like, uh, this isn't the like, real Ghost?" Velma: "No, Shaggy, the real Ghost has yet to be found!" Dennis Rodman: "This is what I want to do to the refs!" Bob Dole: "Oh baby, Bob Dole must've come to the right place!" All: "OLD MAN WITHERS?!?!?" Freddy: "Uh, Old Man Withers? What does he have to do with this?" Velma: "Well, you see, based on the clues I found & my supercomputer deductive reasoning, I figured out that Old Man Withers killed the old family because there was buried treasure & he haunted this pile of shit to scare everyone away until he found it!" Withers: "& I would've gotten away with it if it hadn't been for you God Damn snooping kids!" Auntie: "Thank you kids! You saved my profitable whorehouse from utter ruin! The ghost (Old Man Withers) was scaring away all of the customers!" Auntie: "Now, that's enough celebrating. Daphne, get your scrawny ass upstairs, you have a customer waiting!" Bob Dole: "Thanks Auntie, both Bob & Liddy Dole thank you for your kindness. Thanks gang for making sure I got a piece today!" Freddy: "He's right, good job gang, & especially you, Scoob!" Velma: "Yeah, here's a ten-strip of Scooby Snacks for our favorite detective!" Gang: "Hey Scooby!" Scooby: "Scooby-Dooby-Doo!!" Fade out to credits & more bad Scooby-Doo music. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Belieive It" Schreiben bei Mercuri E-mail: jwapienn@pla-net.net DATELINE: Kikapoo, Montanna; April 29th, 1997: Dear: "Honey, I'm home!" Honey: "Hi, Dear!" Dear: "Can you believe we live in a place called Kikapoo?" Honey: "No, I can't, Honey. I love you." Dear: "I love you too." Yes, things were going quite well in Kikapoo that day. DA-DUM. *AKWARD SILENCE* Dear: "Honey, can you believe we have a dog named Fred?" Honey: "Why, yes." Dear: "Can you believe our dog Fred lives in a place called Kikapoo?" Honey: "No." DA-DUM. *AKWARD SILENCE* [-----] Please don't move to Kikapoo, it creates more problems then it solves. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "A Newbie's Guide to Working at Walmart" as foretold by Intrepid E-Mail: intr3pid@hotmail.com If you've read anything of mine in the past, then this article shouldn't be much of a suprise, it's about Walmart, baby. I'd like to call it: "The True, Definitive Guide to Avoiding Boredom as a New Walmart Employee" But TMM said it was too long and stupid so he wouldn't let me. That fascist bastard will die a slow death, I swear it. Being employed at Walmart is tiresome, annoying work. You can, and will go crazy if you don't have a strategy. Even better, you don't have to be bored to do this, I'm not. A. Lie. Lie your heart out. Really. Walk around the store, find and help people in departments you know nothing about. For me, this is my own deptartment, the one and only Pets department. So I find someone in pets and make up a bunch of stuff about say cat food. Spread lies, rumors. It's called advertising. If anyone asks you a question you MUST lie. Give yourself a point for every lie, two for succesful ones. Keep score to measure the success of each day in that rotting, stinking hell-hole. Note: Keep in mind that Electronics is a particularily good deptartment for this and most especially while on the phone. Most people don't know that jam is a great way to clean cd-players. B. Play "Spot the Propaganda." Everywhere you look you'll see signs telling you: Sam Walton loves you! We love you! You'd be suprised. It's everywhere, on the walls, ceilings, and screensavers. It's in the lounge, on billboards, and on the food. Every morning you have to sing a Walmart song. It's frightening, horrible even. "GIMME A W" "GIMME AN A" "GIMME AN L" "GIMME AN M" "GIMME AN A" "GIMME AN R" "GIMME A T!" "WHAT'S THAT SPELL?" "WALMART!#@%$" "WHO RULES?" "WE DO!" "WHO IS THE BEST?" "WE ARE!" "WHO SHOULD WE WORK TO BE LIKE?" "MR. SAM!" "WHO DO WE LOVE?" "EVERYONE!#*$&" Maybe I'm simply an ignorant Walmart employee but DIDN'T SAM WALTON DIE YEARS AGO? HOW COULD HE LOVE ME? HE NEVER NEW I EXISTED! Next point. C. Be cruel. Go to Pets, and scoop out all of the dead fish. Let little kids see them, touch them, smell them, taste them. Offer it to them. One 12 year-old wanted a dead Angel Fish in a bag, so I gave it to him. As TMM so intuitively [as I always do --TMM] stated, I should have charged him. Little bastard probably worked for McDonalds. Damn secret agent with secret sauce. D. "Spot the Leper." You need a friend to play this one. Kind of hard since no-one at Walmart likes anyone else, but YOU can do it. Walk around and find one of the many people with the worst facial rashes. Point at them, laugh at them and then kick them. Scream "Anarchy" soon after. E. This is my personal favorite. Take a bag of 45kg cat litter. CAREFUL! Don't over-work those carefully toned keyboard muscles, Geek-Boy. Now, cut a tiny hole in the end of the cat litter bag. Slowly drag the bag around the store, everywhere. Lingerie, Hardware, Automotive, etc. Then go get a broom and make sure a manager sees you sweeping. Cheerfully whistle. Then proceed to sweep it under counters, rugs or people. This activity can take about 30 minutes, if you are lucky. You thought you were done, eh? No. Nadda. Nyet. Don't put the broom away just yet! Carefully lay it in a high-traffic area, preferrably by paints. Watch the hilarious antics as our lovely senior citizens slip and slide their way to a new wheelchair (which they can purchase on aisle 18)! F. Page people over the intercom. Very obvious, I probably shouldn't have mentioned it. Do it repeatedly. Find license plate numbers and send messages about lights being left on, missing credit cards, whatever. be BAD. I guess that pretty much sums it up. Be creative, and you'll be rewarded with Customer-Service Awards soon. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ Walmart's in Canada are fucking weird if you ask me. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ So I was driving around my small town the other day and I saw a bumper sticker that said this: DRIVE SMART DRIVE SOBER So I was like, "Well, pick one, because I can't do both." Actually, I really don't drink and drive but I just thought that was funny to say. So I'll shut up now. Wanna go out with me? ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Alt.Zines.Sex" as mumbled by TMM E-Mail: chris41@juno.com A disturbing trend in subject matter in many popular 'zines that are being released these days: sex. Yes, following the Showtime, HBO, MTV, Liz Phair and who knows how many other examples, the ridiculously moronic subject of sex has infiltrated the precious 'zine scene. Not to be misunderstood, however, this popular movement isn't taking shape along the lines of pornographic cybersex or phone-sex, the problem is much worse than that. If it were only that this malady would be easily explained and even more simply dealt with. I would argue that a trend of that sort would die out as quickly as it began. Instead, the "sex" that is being furiously written about in hundreds of 'zines as I speak is that of the atypical "misunderstood" or "hysterical" sex. The writers of these articles think of themselves as "deviant" or "just plain nuts" and of course the way they manifest their disestablishmentarianism is by writing about how crazy they are and how their sex life displays this. An example, taken from issue 21 of a typically angsty and trendy 'zine called Doomed to Obscurity; DTO for short. This is an exerpt from an article entitled "shiny new car (a generic love story)" by the clearly misunderstood alternateen "zircus." he is within my soul. my vagina is a giant stomach, being fed with every emotion known to the human soul. he fucks me. much. and my eyes spin with with insanity of a new acid cartoon, wet with the ink of madness. i am being fucked to the brink of madness. and for once, i am truly happy. Keep in mind, this is but the ending paragraph, I could've bored you with the entire article or even the entire issue of DTO (because it was, after all, the "Sex Issue"). So there is a prime example of a ridiculously juvenile person once again trying to nurture their ego and individualist nature by proving for the umpteenth time how uniquely different they are from the "norm" or the "establishment." The way they are different is because they are so damn sexually deviant that they can't find true sexual satisfaction in anything that society might deem "normal" or "proper." The funny thing is that in an effort to become so complex and sophisticated these stupid fucks just make themselves look like idiots. Well, I think it's kinda funny. I hope they keep writing this crap, because I'm so INSANE that I can't achieve my own sexual nirvana unless they write about it and I can read it lots of times and thereby live vicariously through some computer-geek's idea of what deviant sex is all about! Har har har. Note the sarcasm, crapface. But that brings up another valid point. What in the hell is some computer geek doing writing about sex? We all know that angsty computer "people" such as these spend all their time on IRC or chat boards talking about how misunderstood they are or reading their gothically dark poetry online instead of actually having sex in real life. That's the really pathetic thing about all of this. It just seems so fake. Instead of spending their worthless time on badly writing about subversive things that they really don't know anything about or totally unfunny stuff or just plain bad poetry they are wasting their time on maybe the one subject they know the least about. The problem with that is that instead of having their readers read their bad treatise's on anarchy or bad poetry or horribly unfunny fiction and thus inspiring them to write BETTER stuff themselves (why do you think I write for a 'zine, numbskull?) they just write about sex. The only inspiration I get out of reading articles about sex in these 'zines is to go join a fucking monastary. But maybe that is their tangled skein of a message! Maybe that is what they REALLY want me to do! Too bad my feeble little mind can't keep up with these post-modern, neo-intellectual teeny-boppers. I can always hope! [-----] TMM's Note: Aha!! I finally used "disestablishmentarianism," the longest word in the English dictionary, in an article! Handle now owes me five bucks. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Gordon, the Guy Who Says Stupid Shit a Lot" as told from the second person by Styx E-mail: dropdead@mindspring.com PART TWO: Gordon and His New Toy! It was Gordon's birthday, and he received a bulky present in the mail. He tore it open with innocent glee and long fingernails. "Hello!" Gordon exclaimed. "What's this?" Gordon read the instructions and followed them to the number. He inserted the batteries, turned the switch on (to his surprise, it shook very fast!), and shoved it up his tight, white asshole. This caused Gordon to involuntarily piss, vomit, and fart, all at the same time. "That's curious!" exclaimed Gordon, and watched some TV. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Old People Smell Bad and They Piss Me Off" as griped in "old codger-like" fashion by Mercuri E-Mail: jwapienn@pla-net.net I just got back from the grocery store. I went to go pick up a case of Coca-Cola. Simple enough, eh? It's about 10:00PM central standard and damnit, there shouldn't be any crowds, it should be an in and out thing. So I grab the Coca-Cola & buy a $2.00 Poppy from a Veteran (God bless them one and all) and I go to the EXPRESS LANE (remember that, you will see this material again). I sit the Coca-Cola down, pick up a pack of Juicy Fruit, set it down and put a plastic divider between me and the Ancient One in front of me. First of all, what pisses me off is that she's got her purse lying on top of my case of pop. I told myself "It's okay," and let it be. What could I say? "Hey, Dr. Ruth, get your damn satchel off my Coca-Cola!" No, I show a little respect. So she's got all her Mueslix and Oat Bran and potato chips laid out there on the counter but wait, she's gotta get out her "Preferred Customer" card for those individuals 85 and older. That took up a good solid minute. Keep in mind this is the EXPRESS LANE. So the cashier starts TALKING TO HER. Not idle chit-chat while she checks her stuff out, mind you, she stops EVERYTHING that she's doing and talks to her. ARGH! So me and the guy behind me are really starting to get pissed off, there is a line behind us starting to form. So I put on my "No Bullshit" look and cross my arms. Which failed. She never once looked in my direction. The Ancient One also has to find exactly 84 cents so she doesn't have to get any change back. The cashier yells over to Customer Service that she needs two rolls of quarters and a wad of singles, which I don't understand because meanwhile the old lady is counting out a dime, two nickels and sixty-four pennies. Instead, she ignores my existance while she waits for this invaluable change to be delivered to her. Then she has the old lady wait until someone can escort her to her car (this is after the old lady said she didn't want or need any help). The cashier yells to Customer Service about it. "Well, John is on break and Steve is collecting carts outside. Phil is probably just lost somewhere." Whilst she said this someone behind the cashier came up to her and had a question about some cereal on her shopping list. EXPRESS LANE, REFER HER TO CUSTOMER SERVICE YOU PUTZ. I waited in line for 8 fucking minutes because of this cashier. It's at times like that that I really wish it were legal for me to carry a concealed weapon. [-----] TMM'S Note: What the fuck is a "Poppy?!" ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Die Fratboy, Die!" as earnestly spun by Haji E-Mail: mmoney19@mail.idt.net Isn't Faces of Death cool? I was watching Part IV yesterday and I thought it was neat. There was this Fratboy who decided to bungee-jump off of a building, only they bought a rope ten feet too long because they erroneously figured a thirteenth story into the height of the building (most buildings do not contain thirteenth stories, and if they do the story is required to be between one and three feet tall). It was hilarious! Anyways, all of these Sorority Sluts were cheering him on, and he yells, "Here I Go!" and you see him falling and hear this hilarious sickening thud as he hits the ground. Wow. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Current Events" hosted by Tom Selleck (TMM) E-Mail: chris41@juno.com So Tim McVeigh is guilty, eh? I can buy that one, I mean, 12 wholesome citizens came to a consensus that he was guilty, so even if it wasn't exactly a fair trial (I have no idea if it was or not, I'm simply leaving myself an out) justice was probably served. How could 12 average citizens of America (Oklahoma for crissakes) go wrong in a situation where intelligence is absolutely key to sound decision- making & wading through all of the typical lawyer bullshit? If you've been reading RAD for awhile, you should've already noticed a couple of things: 1. People are fucking idiots. No matter how smart they try to be they always screw stuff up and look stupid. Read the past 15 issues for plenty of proof of this. 2. Even the people that think they are smarter than the "average dumb-folk" and write about how stupid everyone else is (YES, I'm talking about us RAD writers) are actually idiots themselves. We are just "above average" idiots who actually notice this stuff. Which means that there is no way to determine if he is 100% guilty or not because you're an imbecile, I'm an imbecile, and damnit so are the lawyers, judges and jurors on that case. So that leaves us to trust 12 completely random Jimmy-Cracks with one man's life. So now it's time for the sentencing. The honorable U.S. District Judge Richard Matsch wants to be careful to avoid so-called "lynchings" in the sentencing and has banned personal or "inflammatory" emotional testimony by witnesses so that they wouldn't "ignite" the jurors before sentencing. Um, isn't that what witnesses are for? How many self-respecting attorneys WOULDN'T use a witness that would *gasp* "ignite" the jury onto your side? If he's guilty, let all of the personal testimony be heard and let the JURY decide how he's punished, not the high-priced lawyers or the stinking judge who is probably taking money from both the defense and the prosecution. After killing God-knows-how-many people in a bomb that destroyed an entire federal building, a "lynching" is a very small price to pay. I say blow the fucker up, but I guess that's not "humane." Eye for an eye, baby. [-----] In other news, according to CNN peace talks are once again resuming in Northern Ireland. Is anyone else noticing a trend? How many peace talks are there gonna be? Right here, right now I'll make a CONSERVATIVE prediction as to what is going to happen to these "peace talks," after a week or less. I would wager my entire estate (this computer) that some plush Irish pub or other meaningless structure choc-full of "innocents" will explode and the chaos will ensue once again. Call me psychic but I tell it as I see it. [-----] In France they just had their supposed (that's suh-pose-ED, moron) democratic elections and the current prime minister Alain Juppe resigned after a horrible defeat by Lionel Jospin's ultra-left-wing Socialist party. Which of course means that France will now be ruled by a Socialist who is most likely just a puppet under the thumb of the red-clad Socialist party. And you wonder why Clinton is trying to expand NATO once again. Watch out, brothers, the reds are rising once again. A Note to all you idiots: NATO is the "North American Treaty Organization" created during the cold war by the holier than thou art western nations to prevent the spread of communism past the eastern-European bloc countries. Clinton is trying to expand it closer to Russia and the Russians don't want it. Get off IRC and pick up a newspaper and find out what is actually happening in the world. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ Well, so far we have seen the follow natural disaster movies. * Twister * Earthquake * Volcano * Asteroid Coming soon to a theater near you... * Typhoon * Hurrican * Rain * Mud-slide * Blizzard * Flood * Smoothie * Vomit ============================================================================ ============================================================================ Scratch that last sentence in "Current Events," I now realize how dangerous the outside world really is. I'd rather stay here in my chair & not perform heroic deeds & make love to beautiful people like in those movies. I'm fragile! ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "O Canada!" as patriotically sung by Intrepid E-Mail: intr3pid@hotmail.com Ahem. As a Canadian I am told by teachers, politicians, and friends to be proud to live in a country where "we have the strongest standard of living in the world." You know what? Who cares?! Canada as a whole is just a metaphor for an arctic frozen hell. In my city, Winnipeg, we spend our 12-day summer battling hordes of mosquitoes the size of small cats. We don't have a fall, or a spring. Winter is long and harsh and consists mainly of snow drifts, cruel winds and frozen testicles. Basically, we offer it all. Look at our sports teams. We are supposed to be THE hockey country. we've even adopted it as our second national sport. Now we're losing all of our teams to fat American Capitalist Pigs! We don't have the money, whine whine whine. We can't have an NBA team because the cold stunts growth. At least that's the excuse they give us "common-folk." We have no good food here. All of those sugar-laced cereals enjoyed by the common-folk in the good old U.S. are reserved for the upper-crust here. Us Proletariats have to exist on a strict diet of Polar Bear meat and seal fat. Another thing, Canada has virtually no patriotic spirit. If you went to the U.S. and said, "The U.S.A. sucks!" you'd be beaten and arrested. That's a good thing. It's wrong to complain about the government. Here, people will agree with you. They'll give you things, like our worthless money. Our second biggest province population-wise, wants to leave. Hell, I'd like to leave. With a national anthem like this I don't understand how you could possibly expect people to feel any patriotism whatsoever. O Canada! Our home and native land! True patriot love in all thy sons command. With glowing hearts we see thee rise, The True North strong and free! From far and wide, O Canada, We stand on guard for thee. God keep our land glorious and free! Mercuri is gay! He enjoys bumsex! O Canada, we stand on guard for thee, O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. It's just too cold right now for me to leave. I'll have to wait until later this summer for the ice to melt and the one ship that comes to our small hamlet every year to show up to be able to get off this frozen tundra. "I keep trying to get out, but [it] keeps pulling me back in!" ============================================================================ ============================================================================ I often think of suicide when I write for RAD. Not because I hate myself or my life or anything like that. Basically I just hate you. Keep reading, moron. ============================================================================= ============================================================================= "Liz Taylor As A Living Example" Shutup. No witty line here. by TMM E-Mail: chris41@juno.com Is it me or do good looking women make ugly old women? Every old crony movie star who used to bask in the warmth of beauty has turned into Medusa herself despite the costly benefits of silicon, liposuction and any other expensive beautification process. It seems that women just reach a certain threshold and once past it turn into disgusting old hags, the only difference between them being the manner in which their ugliness manifests itself. Some are fat, some lose all their hair, some wrinkle so badly they look worse than most sea lions, some decide to combine any permutation of the above. I guess the point I'm making is that despite how perky their cheerleader breasts are now or how lithe and tan their lifeguard legs are now while we're all young, they are all going to end up ugly. Why bother with the effort now? I've often found myself taking a more attractive woman to a better restaraunt or on a more creative date than just "dinner and a movie" and I notice one key thing about all of the really attractive women I take out: I spend way more money on them. Why?! It isn't like they are better than the less attractive women, they just appeal to the primordial physical demands much more than an ugly girl. This behavior (mine and everyone else's similar behavior to these "beauties") has set an unfortunate precedent that we all have to meet nowadays to "make the cut" with good looking girls. We have to spoil them rotten. Fuck that! We all know they're going to end up just as ugly as anyone else later in life, why do they deserve more now? [-----] MORAL: Date younger women when you're older. We get older, they stay the same age. Damn, I can't believe I just quoted Dazed and Confused. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ Just in case any women that I care about are reading this right now, I didn't REALLY mean that!! I was just trying to be cool! Come on baby, one more chance! ============================================================================ ============================================================================ "Gordon, the Guy Who Says Stupid Shit a Lot" as told from the third person omniscient by Styx E-mail: dropdead@mindspring.com PART THREE: Gordon at War! Gordon stumbled his way through the thick underbrush to the sounds of gunfire, dying shouts, and the ominous high-pitched shriek of missiles in flight. Clicking his tongue, Gordon saw something glint out of the corner of his eye and gaily skipped over to inspect it. "Hello!" exclaimed Gordon. "What's this?" Gordon bent down to one knee to look at the object more closely. It was a shiny, spherical, metallic drum, Gordon decided, and he proceeded to play a U2 song on it. Upon contact with his hand, the mine exploded into a hundred thousand tiny shards, imbedding Gordon with shrapnel in every square-inch of his body, rendering him blind, impotent, and bloody. "That's curious!" gurgled Gordon, and convulsed to death. * Note: So ends the epic tale of our magnificent young protagonist! Will we see Gordon ever again or will his saga end with three stories? Only YOU can decide his fate!! E-Mail Styx with praise and ideas and try to convince him to tell us more! Now it's up to YOU! ============================================================================ ============================================================================ Whoo. What a mediocre issue, eh?! This is what happens when computer geeks find things to do; we dissappoint other computer geeks by being sub-par. Just remember one thing, for the LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, please do not, ever, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, move to Kikapoo. Thank you and good night. ============================================================================ ============================================================================ Are YOU ready to spread the message? Do you think YOU'RE worthy enough to give RAD to EVERYONE YOU know? I think YOU are, in fact, I *know* YOU are, & I love YOU for it! So let this be YOUR Great Commission! Spread the word across the land! Print the enclosed flyer and throw copies everywhere! Do it now! It isn't just YOUR salvation that is at stake here, it is the salvation of each & every unenlightened individual that hasn't heard the Good News of RAD. So are YOU ready now? I think YOU are. Stomachs in, chests out! On your mark, get set, GO!!! ============================================================================ ============================================================================ Radioactive Aardvark Dung E-Zine :: ISSN 1092-5449 Issue #16 % Released May 30, 1997 RAD E-Zine :: PO Box 584 :: Crown Point, IN :: 46307 Get Past & Future Issues From :: ftp://ftp.openix.com/ftp/phorce/rad/ WWW Site :: http://www.pla-net.net/corp/zineworld/rad/ Send Us Your Comments & Submissions! :: jwapienn@pla-net.net For Special Updates % type "subscribe rad" In Message Body ATTN SysOps :: Be Sure To Read DISTRO.APP Without Prejudice and Explicit Reservation of All My Rights, UCC 1-207 ============================================================================ ============================================================================