$$$$$ $$$$ $$$$$ $&s. .s&$P""7$&s. $$$$ $$$$ xxxxxxxxxxx $$$$$ xx $$$$ $$$$ xx $$$$ $$$$ xxxxxxx $$$$ "$$$$b xxxxxxxxxxx :: ::::: :: $$$$$ :: $$$$ $$$$ :: $$$$ $$$$ :: :::: $$$$ : $$$$$ :::: :::::: ::::::::::: $$$$$ : $$$$ $$$$ :: $$$$ $$$$ :::.s$s $$$$ ,g$$$P :: ::::::: : :::::::::: $$$$$ :: $$$$ $$$$ :: $$$$ $$$$ : $$$$ $$$$"`$$&g. :::::::::::: :::: :::::: $$$$$ :: $$$$ $$$$ : $$$$ $$$$ :: $$$$ $$$$ :`$$$$b ::: ::: ::: xxxxxxxxxxx `9$$$bssd$$$$ `9$$bssd$$P' $$$$bssd$$P' $$$$ : $$$$$ xxxxxxxxxxx $ssss $$P' tMM "$$$$"""""""" -------(vagina)---------------------------------------------------------------- y0lk 108: Everything you ever wanted to know about tripe, but then decided you'd rather not know. -------(y0lk?!)---------------------------------------------------------------- Well, this y0lk is my first. Fuck you. Ok, now that I'm in the y0lk spirit, I have a confession to make. For the most part, with few exceptions, I never got past y0lk #18. That's right. Never read them. Staring at a screen that long hurts my eyes. I read the ones past number one hundred, and a few between, but none others. In fact, I got the neat-o header by block loading y0lk number 54, chosen at random, and writing this below it. Fuck you, hypocrite! So here I am writing a y0lk, which is bound to resemble an early y0lk, because those are the only ones which I am sure to have read. -------(This blank space represents the darkness of my soul.)------------------ (yep, my soul is pretty dark) (boy, that's some darkness) (man, its dark in here) (whew) -------(Connect the Dots!#&$)--------------------------------------------------- Well, actually, that long, dark space didn't represent the darkness of my soul, but rather my need to fill up space due to a creative block. Alright, now that all of you know who I am, what I believe in, and everything else about me, we can take a fun break to play some games! Connect the dots (crayon recommended): ú ú . ú . . . ú ú . . ú . . .ú úú .ú . . ú ú . ú ú ú . ú ú. . ú ú ú ú ú . ú ú .. ú . .ú . ú ú úú . ú ú . . . . ú ú . . . . ú ú ú . . . Chess and Checkers! ÚÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÂÄÄÄ¿ Play by yourself ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ or with your ÃÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄ´ imaginary friend ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ blinky! ÃÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄ´ Use the handy game ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ board because I spentÃÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄ´ You better lean to lots of time drawing ³ ³ ³ ³ . ³ ³ ³ ³ enjoy yourself! Play it! ÃÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄ ÄÄÄÅ -ÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄ´ chess if you're man ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ enough! Hours of ÃÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅ-ÄÄÅ -ÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄ´ edu-tationalistic ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ fun! Just ask ÃÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄ´ Vladimir Nabokov@! ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ÃÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÅÄÄÄ´ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ³ ÀÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÙ -------(Story time, oh Boy!!)--------------------------------------------------- And now, a story inspired by that very chess board. Jimmy sat in his refrigerator box eagerly studying his history homework. It was a rainy day- slightly cold with a nippy wind, the kind of day that makes anyone glad to have a nice refrigerator box over their heads. Jimmy had been wondering about what it was like before the Milwaukean Liberation- (known to the rest of the world as the second American civil war) before true freedom had reached his country. He was born during the reconstruction, and barely remembered his parents' cheering for John Necker, the truest of American heroes. He was the man who restored dignity after the devastation that the revolution brought. He promised new schools, good pensions, which he delivered, but most importantly, he ensured that everyone, in this new era of peace, would have a cardboard box. In school and on the news, Jimmy had learned of other countries, countries which were horrible dictatorships where people didn't get to choose their boxes. The government issued them. If your box didn't fit, if it were somewhere you didn't want to be, Jimmy had learned, you couldn't trade with anybody else, unelss you wanted to be a criminal, hunted down by the secret police. Freedom. Yes, Jimmy had decided, it is freedom that makes this land different. The freedom to choose the box in which you live. The freedom to arrange it, to fold it, to unfold it. It's location could be changed with the short filing of a few government papers, but those were mere formalities. Jimmy looked at the black lettering on his box, slowly, but surely making out the words: "re- re-frigerator? What the fuck is that?" Jimmy promptly took his government-issued shotgun, and began to carress its shiny, black, metallic chamber. Even the serial number, 2348T-SV38-25NST added a tingling bit of sensuality to the instrument. He raised to the sky and fired once- people heard it for miles. Jimmy first felt real power. He looked forward turned, and after giving the barrel a sweet kiss, shot all of his neighbors through each of their neighboring cardboard boxes. Yes, Jimmy was proud to be an American. -------(A Poem!)---------------------------------------------------------------- The following poem is based on a true story about me, and a friend who, because we've neither really liked nor respected each other very much did absolutely anything to pass time when we realized that the other people who she wanted me to have over couldn't come. The Coconut: the misadventures of Josh and Hetty (an epic) Humidity hung like a coconut upon a tree tho' the cool insides of the MarkŠd Path promised a safe journey into the tropical paradise they sought; but all was for naught: the coconut was rot. "Alas!" crieth they and "Alack!" as they didst hack for from the coconut's crack was revealeth a milkey stench. Unbeknownst to the bearers of fruit, there was nothing to loot: Sadly, their objective was moot. Unfortunately, I cannot take all of the credit. We cowrote it. -------(Wow, Josh. This issue sucks!)------------------------------------------ Well, fuck you and your minions. I never say anything interesting anyway. Now solve my riddle (which I can take all of the credit for). An intractible mind is what I require for my stubborn riddle and its rejoinder. Adamant am I, callous and unforgiving as the rulers who once kept empires living. In my quandary, think of: fox, wolf, and lion- which one have these three in common? Then consider bear, bird and boar whence already given are two more. The other five will dance with u. Thus I have given my final clue. The start of your answer was already given, your intellect now, need by itself be driven. To obtain my solution, what must one have in him?