Been slackin' a bit on the features? Want to catch up on some old days of glory? Read on, my friend!
Feature #20:
I was voilently opposed to politics, and now i'm just cynical. However, when i wrote this, i was a bit more uninformed than i could have been. In fact, up until Ralph Nader started running for president, i didn't really give half a damn about what was going on. Therefore, he's a little nugget from my past:
If the Vote is a Rockin', Don't Bother Knockin'.
By Jason Feifer
I hate politics, and I don't vote. Not because I hate politics, but because I'm uneducated. It's too much trouble to be educated about politics. You can't just sit down and read a "who's who in the political world" book. You need to hear slander, watch stupid commercials, and see obnoxiously bright signs littering the highways and sidewalks. You need to hear people rant and rave, and read politically skewed newspaper articles. You need to get into heated debates with your friends and neighbors, and watch un-heated debates on television. You need to waste your life trying to figure out whom to decide on to run it. You might as well just not vote, and that's why I don't. In fact, I try to learn as little as possible about anything in the political world. I was in a discussion about politics recently and completely forgot who ran against Clinton. (It was Dole, for all who forgot also) I don't know the name of my senator or mayor, and I'd like to keep it that way.
Thus, I was a bit disheartened when I saw some news vans roll onto the campus of Clark University on one dismal Wednesday afternoon. They were here to cover… get this… the DEBATE. Oh, the wonderful debate. Well, fine. As long as you keep your stupid debate away from me, I guess I'll suck it up and deal with it. But then come the sheep. It's a long-standing philosophy of mine that people seek out people to look up to because nobody's really ever comfortable with themselves. That's where the politicians come in. "I'm great! Vote for me!" they say. And the people love it. They follow the politicians around everywhere, cheer for this person they don't even know, and make anyone who doesn't follow this mystical figure their enemy. So, when the politician comes to town to participate in the debate, the sheep follow. And what ugly and stupid sheep they are, too.
First come the signs. Not just one sign. Not just one huge banner. But HUNDREDS of signs, and they're all saying the same thing: the candidate's name. Step one is to line the streets with these signs. There is no longer a sidewalk on this street, but instead a continuous blasting of one man's last name. Next come the sheep with their own signs, again with just the name, but this time they're holding the signs. By holding the signs themselves, they are able to make them move up and down to apparently hammer down the point that this is the right person to vote for. That their lives wouldn't be complete without the person whose name is printed on this sign they wave so proudly. They chant their names. It's a cult. The funniest part is that they all seem to be convincing each other to vote for the same person. They might as well just sit around and say to each other, "Hey, vote for Bob! He's great!"
"That's a great idea," says person number 2. "I'm voting for Bob, aren't you? He's so wonderful!"
"Yes. He's a great man. You really should vote for Bob. He's my hero." The first person replies.
"I agree! You should definitely vote for Bob. I plan on interning at Bob's place. I like him that much!" The second sheep cheerfully blabs.
And it goes on.
But then comes the opposition. The people who they had no problem with when they were standing on line with them at the deli, but now that they're gyrating signs of a different person, they're all enemies. "Boo!" they boo. "Hiss!" they hiss. Then come the opposing signs. Some people trade in their signs that say "Bob!" for signs that say why the opponent is so bad. When I walked past this charade, there were a group of people holding signs that said "I'm a gun owner, and I vote." A little past them, there was a group of feminists telling the candidate the same exact thing. They might as well be holding signs that say "I'm an asshole, and I vote." I mean, there must be some better way to make your cause known than to stand there with signs acting like idiots in front of some candidate that doesn't much give half a crap. If you want your voice known, write a damn letter. Or, better yet, just don't vote for the guy. But knock it off with the signs.
None of these people act like adults. They're all a bunch of squawking geese during feeding time at the zoo. And it gets completely out of control when they all start chanting "Na na na na, Hey hey hey, Good-Bye!" as the opposing candidate exits the building into the car. (This came right after the "I'm a gun-owner, and I vote" signs) It's like summer camp to these people. In fact, it's almost as if the intelligent people see how ridiculous this whole thing is and stay away, while the idiots are the ones who end up getting caught up in the soap opera and vote. That would certainly explain some of the horrible politicians who have contributed their horrible ideas. But I wouldn't be able to tell you any of them, because I don't give a damn. Just get off my lawn, stop chanting someone's name like they're the next messiah, and shove the damn signs up your politically aware ass. Then I'll go back to my ignorant bliss. Sometimes I might be an asshole, but at least I don't vote.
Feature #21:
I truely do not understand why this is still going on. I mean, this MADMARCY thing has been going on for a good year now, and it STILL doesn't get boring. Anyway, here's the current installment.. the first one is the same as it ever was, and the second is another attempt by this Amanda girl to try and get some info out of Mike by a friend talking to him...
oh..there are two conversations going on simultaneously and refer to each
other so it may be a bit confusing.
--mike
MADMARCY: hey
cisco127: yakety yak dont talk back
MADMARCY: ok thanx
MADMARCY: How you doing?
cisco127: hey amanda..i'll be with you in a minute
MADMARCY: fine make me wait
cisco127: what can i do for you?
MADMARCY: just wanna talk w/ you
MADMARCY: what is new w/you
cisco127: my jacket
cisco127: is made of the latest in twead
MADMARCY: oh really sounds nice
cisco127: you should feel it
MADMARCY: I wish I could
MADMARCY: so what do you look like?
MADMARCY: as a male
cisco127: big ears...long snout..four hooves
cisco127: oh
cisco127: wait..as a male? or a mule?
MADMARCY: a male
cisco127: 3'2"..strapping calve muscles.....what else do you need to know?
MADMARCY: oh you sound very cute
cisco127: how do you sound?
MADMARCY: i don't know
cisco127: amanda..i have a confession to make
cisco127: i love soccer
MADMARCY: oh really
cisco127: and shopping
cisco127: and softball
MADMARCY: aren't you alittle short to be playing soccer
cisco127: aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper
MADMARCY: I am 5'6" and I have no idea what a srormtrooper
cisco127: i'm talking to this girl that loves soccer almost as much as i do
MADMARCY: who?
cisco127: heehaw
cisco127: or do they all have to be bird sounds
cisco127: you never make the rules of your games clear
cisco127: and then i mess up and get depressed
MADMARCY: you are so funny
MADMARCY: so what else is new?
cisco127: i was just telling my newly found friend about my passions
MADMARCY: what would those be?
MADMARCY: hello or are you too embarressed
cisco127: i'm so sorry..what were we talking about
cisco127: i shut the instant message window
MADMARCY: what would those passions be?
cisco127: oh! well...soccer!
cisco127: like i say
cisco127: um...shopping
cisco127: basketball
cisco127: nipples
cisco127: softball
cisco127: talking on the phone
MADMARCY: okay
cisco127: so...do we have anything in common?
MADMARCY: I love taking on the phone, planying soflball and shopping is very coooool
cisco127: taking on the phone? the return of the grab
cisco127: i remember your excessive grabiness from when you were a child
MADMARCY: g2g bye
cisco127: what about my nipples!?!?
cisco127: i want to talk about my nipples!!
MADMARCY: I have them but I don't love them
cisco127: not YOUR nipples...my nipples!
cisco127: they're very sensitive
Previous message was not received by MADMARCY because of error: User 'MADMARCY' is not available.
----------------------------
Msknowit11: hey, wut up?
cisco127: just hold on a second..i'm gonna do a little checking on you
cisco127: i'm sorry my man..but your credit didn't go through
cisco127: you can tell amanda she has no need to send her crew after me....because i am solely her servant
Msknowit11: huh? what r u talking about??
cisco127: hey, wut up?
Msknowit11: nm
Msknowit11: how bout u?
cisco127: oh man..not this again
Msknowit11: what does that mean? i am so confused!
cisco127: op?
Msknowit11: i have no idea what the amanda thing is.......
cisco127: well..i figured since you're ms. know it
cisco127: i mean..how the hell should i know
Msknowit11: u should! how should I?
Msknowit11: hello?
Msknowit11: what r u doing now??
cisco127: i'm playing soccer
cisco127: i love soccer
Msknowit11: me too! it is the best sport in da world!
cisco127: !!!!!!
cisco127: you know what else i love!!?!??!
Msknowit11: what???
cisco127: shopping!
Msknowit11: me too!
Msknowit11: it is soooo fun!
Msknowit11: what else do u love???
cisco127: but sometimes i just talk on the phone with my friends
Msknowit11: me too! all the time!
Msknowit11: do u play baseball?
cisco127: softball
cisco127: that's my second favorite sport
cisco127: next to soccer
Msknowit11: m or f?
Msknowit11: i play softball and soccer!
cisco127: but you know what i love the most out of any of that
Msknowit11: what??
cisco127: menstration!!!
Msknowit11: huh?
Msknowit11: what does that mean??????????
Msknowit11: never mind - i g2g, bye!
cisco127: it's simply a monthly miracle that make most men uncomfortable
cisco127: i embrace it
cisco127: like i embrace you and amanda
Msknowit11: who is Amanda???
cisco127: Did you know that, uh, in alot of native Indian cultures, menstruating woman were forced to leave the village, less they're *powerful* magic should overwhelm the Shaman? If I were Shaman, I wouldn't be so competitive. I'd be more open and giving. I'd be a shaman with... a good attitude towards menstruation!
Msknowit11: oh, that is very nice
Msknowit11: who is this amanda that u speak so highly of??????
cisco127: 'Cause after all, what is it? a cluster of blood vessels, awaiting a fertilized egg. Providing a safe warm place for that egg to grow. And if a life does not occur, the whole thing is flushed away, and the cycle begins again. Now is that anything to be ashamed of or disgusted by? No, this is the nesting stuff of humanity!
Msknowit11: ok, i get the point - but who is Amanda???
cisco127: That's why the woman I love, amanda, will be able to menstruate as fully and freely as she desires. Even if her monthly flow should build in intensity to a raging rust colored torrent! An unbridled river of life giving blood flowing from between her legs! An awesome cataract plunging off the edge of our couch. I wouldn't be fazed! No, no, even if coureur de bois would come up stream, battling the rapids, and singing a 'jaunty song'! I would take no offense, rather I would ford across that mighty womanly river, and fetch herbal tea and Pamprin. And then I would mop her brow and admire her fecundity. For I...Have A Good Attitude....Towards MENSTRUATION!
Msknowit11: congratulations - what does that have to do with who amanda is???
cisco127: amanda is a yak herder
Msknowit11: hey - what is your name???
cisco127: they love her in france
Msknowit11: where are u from?
cisco127: france
Msknowit11: cool - and your name is????
Msknowit11: i g2g, bye
cisco127: cristeian wawa
cisco127: g2g? thats a peculiar name?
cisco127: you're russian?
Msknowit11: no - it means i got to go!
Msknowit11: is cristeian your real name??
cisco127: you think i would tell you my fake name
Msknowit11: i haven't the slightest idea!
cisco127: you'd be able to infiltrate the system!
cisco127: NOOOOOOOO
Msknowit11: oh
cisco127: THAT'S IMPOSSSIIBBBLLLEE
Feature #22:
Ever wonder what a day for me is like? Probably not. But, i wrote this out for an online publication and so, hey... Feature!
Day I've Ever Known.
By Jason Feifer
It was at about 7:29, while sitting on a toilet that has, for my entire experience in college thus far, never had a spotless seat, that I realized that my column for this time should consist solely of what I did today. I can't figure this seat out. It doesn't have stuff all over it because I wipe the damn thing with toilet paper every time, but somehow it's just innately dirty. Anyway, I digress. Some days have, at best, one or two strange things that happen to a person that make the person jittery to go run and tell the first open ear. Of course, that usually comes in the form of someone sitting on a bed staring directly past you for a good ten minutes hurling haphazard "mmm"s and "heh"s in your general direction. Which is fine, because the things actually worth relaying are few and far between, and you're probably better off in the person's eyes if they don't actually hear what you have to say. But today, in my opinion, was worth relaying. There's a good chance that if you were sitting there on that bed listening to me, you'd be staring past me and hurling onomatopoeias around as well, but since it's on text it's a whole… well, it's probably the same. So, on with my day.
11:45 - My alarm clock goes on, and fills the room with the soothing sounds of static with some mixture of about three songs in the background that smooch together so that they sound like something quite similar to Puff Daddy. I can't figure out why that happens. I always set the radio to the first station I come across, since I don't really care what wakes me up so long as it's loud. Sometimes I set it on oldies, sometimes it's a grunge night, and I think Kenny G was on one time. Anyway, by the time morning rolls around, my radio somehow has moved the dial so that I'm no longer picking up the station, but instead just get what I described above. Happens every morning. You'd think that maybe if I left it on static, the morning would bring music. Wrong. I tried. I smack the alarm clock, and it goes off. I go back to bed.
11:46 - My friend Zach knocks on the door and yells something about lunch.
1:06 - A few people are sitting in a room, and my friend Mike wants to watch the movie Half-Baked. I refuse. When movies are made for the sole purpose of knowing that there's a money-filled market out there for a specific genra, and then they DO make money off that demographic, I'm disgusted. Has anyone seen Henry Fool? No. That man (Hal Hartley) WANTED to make that movie. He put his heart and soul into it, and you know who saw it? I did, and probably about ten other people scattered around the world. But for some reason, everyone has seen fucking Half-Baked. I whine about how bad a movie it is, even though I haven't seen it. The crowd in the room decides it'll be funny to make me watch it.
1:10 until 1:44 - We all suffer through Half-Baked. Nobody laughed, except for this one scene when a horse fell down. Then one person laughed, and everyone else looked confusedly at them. Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me when I talk about movies?
1:45 - Mike and I realize that he was supposed to take a train at 2:10 back to Boston. I call my friend who has a car, who I woke up, apologized, and let her go back to sleep. After calling two other people, it becomes apparent that we're going to need to get him a cab.
1:46 - Call the cab company and my first words to them are "Yea, I need a cab."
1:48 - We walk back to my room to get Mike's stuff, and run into my friend whose wallet was stolen last night. She's in a panic, hugging me for support, and I'm feeling awful because she needs to vent but if she doesn't shut up, Mike is going to miss his train.
1:51 - I get the nerve up to end the vent, which I truly did care about, but my pre-occupation with missing his train made me actually say something her.
1:52 - She finally ends the tirade, and Mike and I head off to the corner of the street to get a cab.
1:55 - Mike tells me he's going to miss the train. I say it's a 5-minute ride, and he'll be fine.
1:57 - Still no cab. I decide to go into the pizza place on the corner to use the phone. The man at the counter, after I ask him if he can call a cab, tells me in the slowest possible manner "I… think… I… can." I was dealing with the fucking hare from the "Rabbit and the Hare" here. Ten seconds later, he moves from where he was standing over to the phone, and starts dialing. I look outside, and see that Mike hailed a cab. I tell Mr. Slow-as-Moses on the phone that I don't need him anymore, and go outside.
1:59 - The cab driver tells us he has to answer a call first, and he'll be back in five minutes. I tell him about the 2:10 train, he does one of those in-pain breath-in hisses, says good luck, and zips off. So much for common courtesy.
2:00 - I walk into some T-shirt store next-door and politely ask the man at the counter "Would it be possible if you could call a cab?"
Guy: "Why would I do that?"
Me: "Well, my friend has a train and we need a…"
Guy: "Do I look like a phone company?"
Me: "What?"
Guy: "Do I look like a phone company to you?"
(So, it's become quite apparent that this guy has watched 'Goodfellas' way too many times, but does have this portable phone in front of him so I need to deal with this.)
Me: "Well, no…"
Guy: "So, if I'm not a phone company, why would I make a phone call for you?"
Me: "I just need to call a cab because my friend…"
Guy: "So you want me to do you a favor."
Me: "Umm… yea."
Guy: "Now, is this going to be like a employer-to-possible-customer type of a favor?"
Me: "Sure"
Guy: "So, I'm going to do you a favor, and then at some point in time you'll do me a favor?"
Me: "Sure"
Guy: "Ok, then."
(Guy finally calls the cab company.)
Guy: "Alright, there you go. Now, I did you a favor. Remember that. I scratch your back, you scratch mine."
Me: "Of course."
Guy: "What's your name?"
Me: "Jason."
Guy: "Ok, Jason. My name's Billy. Now just remember I did you a favor. I expect a favor in return."
Me: "You got it. Thanks."
2:05 - I walk out of the store to see Mike's cab zip off. That was either the fastest cab company in the world, or Mike just got lucky.
2:06 - I look back from up the street to see the cab that was called for Mike show up. Nobody's there. Billy's going to be pissed. I can't wait to wake up at 2 AM to Billy knocking on my door with some dead body saying "Remember, I did you a favor!" and instructions on how to dispose of the damn thing. I hate this town.
2:09 - I check back in my friend's room. They're still watching Half-Baked. I decide to go take a shower.
2:11 - I enter the shower, which smells like urine. Before I get completely naked, the smell combined with the flowing water in front of me makes me realize I've got to take a piss. The urinal smells clean. Apparently someone confused the urinal with the shower.
2:12 - Realize I forgot to re-fill my soap-dish with soap. Head back to my room, to my roommate who is on the phone with his girlfriend. I eaves-drop for a second, and hear "Yea, and then I… oh, hold on a second. *beep* Hello? Oh.. yea.. he's right here." He hands me the phone, and adds in that his girlfriend is on the other line. "Hello?" I say. Mike says "Bad news…" He missed the train.
2:14 - I decide to take the damn shower anyway, and I figure Mike can take cab back and make his way to my room by himself.
2:35 - I come back into my room dripping wet in my towel to four people hanging out in my room. But, look at how long that took me. 21 minutes. That's outrageous. Why do I take that long to stand under some water and put some strange chemicals on me? People take two-minute showers, and I struggle to keep it under a half-hour. I don't get it.
2:50 - Mike decides to call the bus company… there's a train at 3:30. He decides it's best if he leaves now, so to get there on time and not miss this train.
2:55 - We walk down to the same damn corner, and see a cab in the distance. We start screaming, and the guy hears us and pulls over. Mike refuses my offer to pay for this cab, says goodbye, gets in the cab, and heads off.
3:00 to 6:29 - Unimportant stuff
6:30 - I'm reading a philosophy essay written by a philosopher about another philosopher. Not his philosophy, mind you… just the history of something called "phenomenological reduction." I don't care, I don't see how it's helping me, and I decide to take a nap. Set the radio station and damn alarm for 7:00, and go to bed.
7:00 - Alarm clock goes off and for some reason it's actually still set to the radio station. I look around, and my roommate is sitting at his desk eating. I make some kind of grunt, turn off the alarm clock, set it for 7:10, and put my head back down on my pillow.
7:01 - My roommate asks me if his chewing is keeping me up. I grunt something.
7:10 - The radio goes back on, and the station its tuned to has a DJ that I managed to catch at the beginning of his sentence. He plays a song called "Wake up" from an album called "Wake up." I figure this is someone telling me I should get the hell out of bed.
7:14 - The radio DJ introduces a James Brown song. My roommate sits there listening to the majority of it as I sit around trying to wake up, and finally says, "This song is a lesson in repetitiveness." I can't help but agree with him… the song is the same damn thing over and over again, with James Brown screaming every once in a while about getting revenge.
7:17 - The radio DJ comes back on, and says, "That was James Brown… He doesn't know karate, but he knows ka-razy." Where do they get these guys?
7:28 - Decide to go to the bathroom.
7:29 - Actually get up to go to the bathroom. Get in the facility, and see a little piece of paper ripped out of a day-to-day calendar from November 9th that says, "Make sure there's toilet paper before you sit down." I walk into the stall that I mentioned in the beginning (I WISH I knew what made this damn thing so dirty) and notice that there's three rolls of toilet paper in there, and only two dispensers. Apparently, I wasn't going to have the kind of problem the day-to-day calendar was telling me about.
7:30 - I realize the door doesn't close fully without physically picking the door up from the broken hinge while forcing the stall's wall over a bit with your back. The damn calendar thing didn't say anything about that. How ironic. Then again, it wasn't November 9th.
7:34 - Come back to room, and the same station now has started playing some kind of music that sounds like it should only be listened to by the people from Soul Food, with some watery keyboard and what I think were bells in the background while some feminine man sings something about missing some woman. I tell my roommate that if ever I'm out of the room and my stereo starts playing something of that magnitude of painfulness to, by all means, turn it off. I wouldn't even want my stereo playing something like that. He laughs, and says "Yea, it was a little too smooth for my taste."
7:50 - I type the word "onomatopoeias" into the first paragraph of this essay, and spell it "onomatapea," which this computer didn't at all recognize for any suggestions on spell-check. I try to spell it a couple different ways, and eventually resort to the dictionary
7:51 - I figure out how to spell the damn word.
3:11 the next day - I realize that I never sat down and wrote out the rest of yesterday, but that, after reading thus far, I don't quite know why I'm even going to submit this. Maybe it'll be interesting. Probably not. I do apologize for this.
Feature #23:
MADMARCY.. she continues to be so Mad! And so Marcy. And her name isn't even Marcy! Oh, the horror! Here's another addition to the SAGA! Oh, we found out Marcy's age! Who wants to guess? I'll tell you next week.
MADMARCY: hey
cisco127: what sup crazy pup?
MADMARCY: nm you?
cisco127: nm me
MADMARCY: op
cisco127: qf
MADMARCY: not this game again
cisco127: ok
cisco127: what do you want to play now?
MADMARCY: f does not come after q
cisco127: dammit!
cisco127: well...we're not playing this game anyway
MADMARCY: \k
cisco127: \ doesn't come before k
MADMARCY: =Þ
MADMARCY: what else is new, how is school
cisco127: At my school, one kid Tosa Korgetski, age 9, we used to think he shaved his head but turns out his dad was just strict.
cisco127: Did you know that movie stars get their hair cut every day? It's true. Movie stars get their hair cut every day so no one will notice and make fun of them like at our school.
MADMARCY: sounds cool
cisco127: what have you been up to?
cisco127: something outrageous?
MADMARCY: def
cisco127: how tragic...i'm terribly sorry..how'd that happen?
cisco127: were you rollerblading?
MADMARCY: please don't make fun of the deaf people
cisco127: i'm not making fun of the deaf people
cisco127: not that they could hear me anyways
cisco127: but i was just wondering how you came to be in that condition
MADMARCY: you are typing so they obviously can see what you are writing
MADMARCY: and def=definetly
cisco127: well...my advice is..to who ever can see what i'm writing...dont go rollerblading anymore..stick to the old fashion games
cisco127: like bite the oak tree
cisco127: ah...like in the good old days
cisco127: you'd go outside with your buddies...find an oak tree
MADMARCY: yeah but i didnt get in any accident
cisco127: and take a big bite out of it
MADMARCY: you bet
cisco127: and your gums would start to bleed...yes...but you liked it
MADMARCY: but it wasn't a tree
cisco127: you lovvved it
cisco127: oh..so what happened this weekend?
MADMARCY: went to the movies and went to parties
cisco127: what about right now? are you at the movies and at parties right now?
MADMARCY: of course, the movie theatre in my basement w/ built in computers in each seat
cisco127: that's neat amanda...I was just sweating to the oldies because with all the casseroles I was given they left on me too much chubby fat. So now I must sweat to the oldies because if you're fat you wind up living in a trailer park gossiping and craving country and western music.
MADMARCY: ok u do that
cisco127: Yes. Can't trust a bug. so...thats my second piece of advice..dont ever trust a bug
cisco127: got it?
MADMARCY: okay thak a bunch I will be sure not to
cisco127: See I was training some smarter cockroaches into my own flea circus but then when the light went on they went AWOL. Can't trust a bug, nope.
MADMARCY: thank for the advice
cisco127: where do you work?
MADMARCY: i GO TO school
cisco127: well...you must have to pay some fee to see those movies and parties?
MADMARCY: I babysit
cisco127: you get paid for that?
MADMARCY: yes
cisco127: wait a minute..babies dont even sit..they just roll around and drool....do these people giving you money know you're scammin' them?
cisco127: hey..it's ok..i wont tell them..i think it's rather cooooool that you babysit...not as cool as shopping..but what is
cisco127: I eat things for money. I do. I eat seemingly inedible things for small sums of money.
cisco127: OK, I'll eat your Bible. But it'll cost you a lot and take me several days of lunching and snacking.
cisco127: how bout it, huh?
cisco127: amanda...if you're not going to talk to me..i wont be able to give you anymore advice
cisco127: well..than i guess this is the end
cisco127: my only friend
MADMARCY: O h i am sorry I am kinda busy
cisco127: watchin' that movie?
MADMARCY: no working on a project
cisco127: ah..top secret huh?
cisco127: i knew a kid involved in a project like that
cisco127: He wouldn't take blood transfusions so instead they gave him apple juice and in the autumn he changed color, fell out of a tree and died!
cisco127: It's true!
MADMARCY: great Ig2g
cisco127: well...i wouldn't praise it that much
cisco127: it's a decent Ig2g
Feature #24:
This week's feature isn't too long, but i thought it was rather funny anyway. This is my friend Lilli (tgrlil18) who was confronted by her x-boyfriend's girlfriend online after she decided to say hi to him. Now, i've never met this girlfriend of his but.. wow.
Oh, and as for the answer to MADMARCY's age... she's 14. A bit younger than i expected, but Mike hit it on the head.
Okey, on with the feature!
FlyReina18: umm exuse not to dis respect you or anything but you needs to get off of my man Lades love aka mike's dick because he don't want your ass anymore he has me and thats all he needs
tgrlil18: calm down
tgrlil18: we r just friends
FlyReina18: it better be that way cause if i find out you tryin to get back with him im gonna have ti hunt your ass down and chop your titis offf bitch!!
tgrlil18: kid, calm down
tgrlil18: what did he tell u about me anyways
tgrlil18: i live in atalnta
FlyReina18: i don't give a fuck where u live it just better be just freinds nothin else
tgrlil18: listen, u r quite a trip
FlyReina18: i know =)
tgrlil18: y r u so damn paranoid
FlyReina18: im not im just sayin
tgrlil18: if u r so dman good he shoudl not be straying
FlyReina18: hes not strayin so shut the fuck up!!
tgrlil18: ohhhh
tgrlil18: so y r u worried
tgrlil18: hmmm
tgrlil18: thinking....
tgrlil18: thinking...
FlyReina18: im not im just sayin he thinks your a total bitch forthe way you treated him and now u r apologizing im just sayin you better recognize
FlyReina18: what do white people always get for christmas??
tgrlil18: what
FlyReina18: welfare!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! lol
tgrlil18: listen to u
Previous message was not received by FlyReina18 because of error: User 'FlyReina18' is not available.
Feature #25:
I think this conversation took place a while ago, but i just put it into a word file and completly forgot to post it until now. Funny stuff, and, unfortunatly, the last we've heard of MADMARCY in a long while. But, here it is...
MADMARCY: hey dude what's going on?
cisco127: going on what?
MADMARCY: You are so wierd
cisco127: i wanna do the damn thing
MADMARCY: whatcha talkin about
cisco127: you know what's weird?
cisco127: you know what's weird?
MADMARCY: no what is
cisco127: a man with two wooden legs...and real feet
MADMARCY: ow very cool
cisco127: did i ever tell you about my hamster?
MADMARCY: no
MADMARCY: tell me
cisco127: well, did you know that if your mum dies and you tell the bus driver, you can get on for free.
MADMARCY: what does that have to do with a hamster
cisco127: wellllllllllllllllll
MADMARCY: is your name JACOB?
cisco127: what if a guy leaked on a school bus full of children who were only worth 87 cents each?
cisco127: silence!
cisco127: this isn't amanda!!~
cisco127: perpetrator
cisco127: fake amanda! vinyl amanda! Sweet N Low amanda!!!
MADMARCY: what?
cisco127: i was wondering what if a guy leaked on a school bus full of children who were only worth 87 cents each?
MADMARCY: what?
cisco127: I have read, that if you were to melt people down and sell their component parts, they'd only be worth 87 cents.
cisco127: that's gotta be a pretty weird store though
cisco127: oh..so about my hamster
cisco127: it died
MADMARCY: oh that is sad
cisco127: cancer...cancer is sad
cisco127: its ok though..i was only five..i dont even remember the stinky rodent
MADMARCY: Cancer sucks
cisco127: If death is the great teacher, then what about my science teacher Mr. Gorgenchuck? Who, when you leave the fan on, his ears whistle.
cisco127: so we always leave the fan on
cisco127: i got my hamser right after my mum died
cisco127: this kid at school, he still has a mom, and that can't be fair, cause all she ever eats is vodka, and coffee, and *bridge mix*.
MADMARCY: we go to the same school
cisco127: yes...our school consists of you, me, and english class
cisco127: and thank god for english class
MADMARCY: Tom?`
cisco127: I speak English. Believe or not, there's a lot of people out there who don't. I find that sad. Why . . . why don't they speak English? Is it `cause they find it too difficult? That's ridiculous -- it's easy. I spoke it my whole life and I never had any problems. Is it because they don't like it? That's ludicrous. It's great language. Whyyyy . . . Shakespeare's in English . . . barely. Maybe they don't speak it `cause it's not their first language. So? I mean, where were their parents? Why, why did they teach `em a language that nobody speaks?
cisco127: ya know what i'm saying?
MADMARCY: yeah
cisco127: And, and it's not like they speak just one other language -- no, no, there's tons of `em like Spanish, or German, or check this one out: Hindi. In France, everyone speaks French `cause they think it's cool. Gives `em, gives `em an excuse to smoke.
cisco127: like..have you ever been to a different country?
cisco127: other than canada..cause all they have are moose and mr wizard
cisco127: so..have you?
MADMARCY: what?
cisco127: been to a different country
cisco127: come on amanda..shape up or ship out
(she shipped out)
Feature #26:
Okey, it's time for show and tell. I wrote this story not too long ago, and figured.. well, i might as well post it. It's nothing i'm claiming to be amazing, but it made me smile. I apologize for the way it came out on this page, though.. everything skips a line, and really.. i have no idea how to fix that. So, anyway, enjoy.
She's Got A Problem
By Jason Feifer
"Ok, Mary, you're going to be ok." She sat by her best friend's bed, clutching her clammy hands while she rocked back and forth and offered empty lines of assurances. She had no idea if Mary was going to be ok. She had no idea what was troubling her in the first place, but they were too far away in the country for a doctor and Mary's illness had bedridden her for three days now.
"If I die, will you…"
"You're not going to die. Don't be silly." she cut off and assured her. Again, she had no idea. But the painful truth of the reality of the situation was enough to make the healthier of the two just as sick, and both Mary and she knew that lying about the situation was, at this point in time, much better than the truth. Because the truth was, they didn't know what the truth was.
And so she sat at the side of the bed, and would only leave her friend's side to wet the washcloth or empty the bucket that quickly filled with bile, as Mary had run out of food to regurgitate a few hours prior. Any food that she tried to eat would come up before it could fully go down, and her once cream-colored face was pale as a ghost. Her lips had lost any redness whatsoever, and the only way one could see where her lips even were was when she opened her mouth to cry or vomit.
Then there was a knock at the door, followed by a voice.
"Hello? Hello?"
She stood up in a fury and almost knocked over the vomit bucket. They had told nobody where they were going, her and Mary, since it was supposed to be a relaxing vacation away from their families and colleagues. Just two old friends taking a trip into the country together, and then Mary caught something. It could have been the fish they ate, but she had eaten it too and was perfectly fine. And as far as she knew, Mary wasn't allergic to fish.
Then the knock came again, accompanied by a "Is someone in there?"
"Yes! Hold on!" she cried, as she ran towards the door, dodging the scattered clothing and medicine bottles that littered the floor. Nearly slipping on a bottle of Albuterol for Mary's asthma, she waved her arms in a frenzy to keep her current status of two feet on the floor at bay. Finally, she made her way to the front door, took the little metal bolt out of the side, and swung it open to reveal an attractive man of about thirty years of age holding a suitcase in one hand and a large stick in the other.
"Hello," said the man. "I'm sorry to be a little abrupt, but would you mind if I came in for a moment? It's a bit cold outside, and I've been walking for quite a while. Just a few minutes sitting down on some kind of semi-comfortable chair and possibly a hot beverage, if you'd be so kind, and I'll be right on my way."
She smiled, and cocked her head slightly to try to give off at least a relatively engaging appearance. Considering her hair was in a tangled mess from not showering for three days, her clothes were wrinkly and saggy for the same reason, and she doubted she smelled like anything too happy, she was most likely not a sight to behold. But all the same, the man didn't notice, or at least didn't let on that he did, as he returned the smile and accepted that as an invitation inside.
"Come, sit." She offered, and walked towards the living room.
"Lovely head," the man offered, as he put down his suitcase and stick, and fixed his eyes on a large deer head sticking out of the side of the wall.
"What? Oh…" she laughed. "I don't know how that got there. This isn't really our place. We just rented it for the weekend. Personally, I think it's disgusting. I mean, was that deer really going to attack whoever shot it? It was probably taking a leisurely drink of water while some bastard sitting in a tree a mile away shot the poor thing. As far as I'm concerned, if someone really wants to hunt, they should…" They both took a seat next to each other on the three-person couch, leaving one of the side seats lonely. Their eyes hadn't left the gaze of the other and, for a moment, she lost what she was saying and an awkward silence hung in the air.
Suddenly, she was ripping her clothes off, and with power she never knew she had, was ripping off his as well. A gust of wind entered the room and somehow only moved her hair around in an angelic fashion, as the two sprawled out on the couch and embraced each other. In the back of her mind sat her sick friend Mary, but sticking true to herself, her sexual urges took priority over any and all other pending situations. The two passionately kissed each other, as if they were long-lost lovers finally back in each other's arms. She softly moaned, and he started kissing his way down her body until…
"What were you saying?" he said.
"Oh!" she yelled, with a snap back to reality. "I was just… I… was… I was just saying… If these hunters really wanted a sport, they should pick up a fork or something and go hand-to-hand with the deer. Most likely, the deer would kick the hunter's ass. That's a sport. This shooting-from-a-tree thing… that's no sport. That's just a power trip."
"Damn," she thought, as she realized her libido had momentarily taken over all senses. It was pure luck she was even able to come up with a recovery like the one she just spit out. He laughed, and in the background heard a small moan from Mary in the other room, and inquired about it.
"Oh, my friend is really sick in the other room and I have to attend to her since there's really nobody else around. Can you stay here for a moment?" She asked, with a playful hand resting against his chest.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I am a bit of a doctor. Do you mind if I take a look?"
"A doctor?" She perked up.
"Of sorts, yes. I have no certificate to show you, but I am skilled in the ways of medicine. And seeing how you probably don't have much of an option in the ways of outside help, I'm willing to do all I can to help out your friend. Hey, one favor deserves another."
"Oh, well, letting me into the house was no favor…" she protested.
"It was when you've been walking all day! Now, where's your friend?"
And so she led the man to her friend, who hadn't moved an inch on the bed since she had left to answer the door. Mary looked literally deceased, and the only vital sign was the slight rise and fall of her stomach under the sheets, indicating that despite her not being able to consume anything, she was at least still breathing. Her eyes were closed, and as her friend came closer, she gave off another moan.
"Mary, I have a doctor here. Do you mind if he talks to you for a moment?" She soothingly asked.
Mary moaned again, which the two decided was a positive response. He approached her, and put his hand on her forehead.
"She's burning up!" he exclaimed. And after putting his hand on her neck, added that her heart rate was dangerously slow. She explained the symptoms Mary had exerted, how they had shown up slightly after they had eaten a fish dinner, how she normally never got sick like this, and so on. The man stood over Mary for a second, looking her up and down, all the while stroking the tiny goatee he had. He looked back up at the woman at the doorway, back down at Mary, put his hand on Mary's cheek, and finally spoke.
"Mmm-hmm. I know what she needs. I'm going to leave the room for a moment so that she can have some privacy, and I want you to remove all her clothes. Call me when she's naked." He said, with all the professional quality one could insert into such an order.
"What!?" she piped up. "Why… why should I do that?"
"Well, so I can have sex with her, of course!"
"Sex?" She looked furiously around the room, hoping that possibly this was all a joke. Not seeing anything to indicate that this man wasn't serious, she returned her attention to him. "SEX! Are you kidding! What's wrong with you? Are you… you're crazy! You're a sick, sick man! You tell me you're a doctor, and then you want me to… you want… you're a deranged man! Do you know what…" she started frantically rambling off, waving her arms in a fury like she was about to fly away and stuttering the whole way through. He grabbed her arms, held them against the sides of her body, and calmly explained.
"Look, I told you I can help your friend, and this is how I can help her. In no way am I taking advantage of the situation. I have a special healing power that has helped and cured many a woman, and your friend over there is exerting some of the same symptoms that I've seen in others I've helped. Now, if you don't believe me and want me to leave right now, I'll do so. But I can also assure you that your friend will die without proper medical attention, and there's no way she's fit to get into a car and drive down those bumpy roads nor are you going to get a doctor to come out here in the middle of nowhere for you. So, you've got two options. You can let me sleep with your friend so she can get better, or you can send me on my way and she'll die." He paused, and looked into her eyes for a moment. She squinted her eyes in disbelief of the entire situation and what this man was so calmly saying to her and stared at him with a mixed look of anger and fear. He turned to leave the room.
"No, wait!" She called him back. Her voice got smaller, and she hung her head. "You can do it. Give me a moment."
"You're doing a wise thing." The door slammed, and the man waited outside.
She approached Mary, who, in her state of fading unconsciousness, had little to no idea what she was about to embark upon. She started stroking her friend's hair, and, with a tissue, wiped off the small drip of vomit that was resting on the side of her mouth. "Honey," she started. "There's a man outside that can help you get better, but he's going to need to…" She stopped, and looked around the room. "Oh, this is ridiculous," she murmured to herself, and then spoke up to Mary again. "He's going to need to have sex with you."
Mary grunted, which at this stage in her illness could have meant anything from a pleasant anticipation of intercourse to the simple fact that she recognized her own name. Either way, she didn't have the strength to resist, and her friend started removing all her clothes until she was lying completely nude on her bed.
"Ok, you can come in now." She said, beckoning the man who opened the door and walked in. He walked over to the vomit bucket, picked it up, and brought it outside, explaining that it would have spoiled his procedure due to the vile smell. He walked over to Mary's bed, and started unzipping his pants. Suddenly, he looked up at Mary's friend.
"Would you mind leaving for a moment? I can't quite work with spectators. I'm just not that kind of person, I'm sorry."
In a daze from having gone this far into the misadventure, she was in no position to put up an argument and slowly turned around to leave the room. As she shut the door behind her, she heard his pants fall to the floor and the soft moan of her life-long friend Mary, who she had just put in the position of being nailed by a possibly psychotic necropheliac with a goatee.
She leaned against the wall, and sunk down to the floor. In all her life, this was quite possibly the most risky and, ultimately, the most unbelievably stupid thing she'd ever done. Her mother had told her when she was younger that her common sense had always lacked a little, but this was truly taking lack of common sense to a whole new level. She got up and started pacing back and forth, around the couch, over the couch, and ended up starting at herself in a mirror that hung directly below the deer head wall ornament. She was truly a wreck; A bright red face with tears rolling down, added to the collective of droopy clothes and ratty hair. She started condemning herself in the mirror, telling herself how terrible of a friend she was and how utterly moronic she was to even let a strange man into the house in the middle of the country. She realized that this was all going to end poorly, so she might as well stop this while she still felt she had some mild control over the situation. She composed herself as best she could, stormed over to the door entrance to the room where Mary and the strange man were having sex, and grabbed the doorknob.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and the man stood there fully dressed. He smiled at her, patted her on the back, and said, "Don't worry. Your friend will be fine. You did the right thing, and she owes her life to you."
"Wha… what?" She was baffled. How was Mary possibly cured? He was obviously lying. She peered into the room, and saw Mary lying naked on the bed, still pale, as she was before, a bit sweatier, and a small smile resting upon her face. Her legs were lying spread open, one arm hung off the bed while the other rested on her stomach, and her breathing was highly increased. "Mary?" she asked. There was no response. She turned towards the man, who stood smiling five feet behind her.
She pointed an angry finger at him, and screamed "You bastard! She's not better! You just fucked my best friend, and you probably just killed her! And what are you smiling at?"
"I'm smiling because I just saved a life, and it gives me pleasure to do something like that." He calmly offered. "Mary will be fine, don't worry. Give her about an hour. Is there any way I can get you to make me a cup of coffee before I head on my way?"
"Are you CRAZY?" she screamed.
"Look," he almost whispered, as he calmly walked up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Your friend is fine. I promise. All I ask is for a cup of coffee in return for saving your friend's life, so that I can kill some time drinking it and be here when she wakes up. I like to see the actual revitalization of my patents. I'm sure you can understand that. Now, please, a cup of coffee if you don't mind? I'll make it myself, if you show me where the machine is."
She stood in shock for a moment, and finally gave in and slowly made her way over to the coffee machine to make her unusual guest a beverage. Hell, if she had already sacrificed all mental integrity in allowing the man to get this far, a cup of coffee wasn't going to escalate things any further. As she filled the machine with water, the man sat calmly on the couch and leafed through the photography book sitting on the floor that filled itself with pictures of babies, sunsets, and one from an old Coca-Cola commercial of a baby holding a can of soda in front of a sunset.
"Look at this sunset! Isn't that the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? It's Paris, you know. I've got to make my way over there once." He held up the book to show her one of the pictures, but received no more of a response than a slight raising of the eyes, which were immediately reverted back to the coffee machine. He continued to leaf through the book until all the sunsets and babies were looked at and he needed another entertainment medium to keep him occupied. He looked around the room, and finally settled upon staring at a grandfather clock that hung opposite him in the room. After a minute or two, it became apparent to him that the clock must have been broken for some time, since it the hands weren't moving anywhere and there was a good chance it wasn't 3:16 if the sun had gone down recently. Finally, the coffee was ready, and she came over with a cup of it and practically shoved it on him.
"Thank you," he said as he took the cup from her hands and slowly sipped the liquid inside. "Ahh. Hey, that's some good coffee!"
She didn't say a thing, but continued to stand there for a moment or two staring down at him like a parent would after their kid just broke their precious China collection. All of a sudden, the door creaked open a bit, and out walked a dazed and wobbly Mary.
"Mary!" she shrieked, as she ran over and hugged her. "How are you? Are you feeling better?"
"I'm much better. I don't know what it is… I just woke up about five minutes ago and felt a million times better than I was feeling a while ago." Mary spoke softly, as she looked around the room and eventually settled her eyes on the man sitting on the couch. She looked back at her friend. "Who is that?"
"Oh, umm, that's…" began her friend, who was interrupted by the man who got up off the couch and approached her.
"I was just stopping in for a place to sit and some coffee, which your friend was kind enough to give me. It's been a long walk, but I do have to be going now. It's good to hear you're feeling better." He turned his attention towards Mary's friend. "Thank you for the coffee. It was delicious. Take care of yourself!"
He started to pick up his things, and headed towards the door. Mary and her friend stared at each other, smiling at the realization that the hell of whatever sickness Mary was suffering from was over. As the man opened the door to depart, Mary's friend turned her head suddenly to look at him.
"Wait!" she said. "Would you want to spend the night here? It's getting late, and it's probably not such a good idea to walk outside at night."
"Oh, don't worry about me. All I needed was hot drink and a place to sit for a moment, and I'm fine. But thank you for the offer. Goodbye!" And with that, he stepped outside, and slammed the door shut. Mary's friend ran to the door, opened it, and poked her head outside.
"Wait, sir! I'm afraid I never caught your name!"
"Don't worry about it," said the man, who was far enough from the unlit house to be seen as anything more than a vague silhouette. "I didn't catch yours either."
"How… how did you do that? With Mary, I mean?"
"Oh." The man paused for a moment, and shifted his weight. "Well, the hell if I know, really! Placebo effect, maybe. All I know is that I just got laid!" He laughed for a moment, and then added, "Take care of yourself!" And with that, the man turned around and walked off.
(this would be the end)
Feature #27:
I had feared that since we hadn't heard from MADMARCY in so long, it might have been the final hoorah from her. But alas, she's back! (If you're new to this stuff, check out the past features for the begining of this insane saga)
MADMARCY: Hey
cisco127: I said, you scuzzy piece of filth, that I know what you did, and I'm going to kill you for it, you scuzzy piece of filth!
MADMARCY: what did i do?
cisco127: oh..sorry...wrong number...i thought you were the one who served me ratatui
MADMARCY: oh sure u did
cisco127: Yeah! but, you know I really liked the ratatui. Which is odd, because I've never liked ratatui before, ya know? I don't like the sound of it. I don't like the ingredients.
MADMARCY: oh i never heard of it or tried it and i don't plan on it
cisco127: Yeah, i know. but for some reason tonight I really enjoyed it.
cisco127: Oh, well. Yeah. Well, maybe.
MADMARCY: okay
cisco127: okay!? really? ya sure?
MADMARCY: yeah me2
cisco127: Oh! That's good to know because, uh... well... there's something about me I think you should know....something personal.
MADMARCY: what is that?
cisco127: Ok. This is difficult. I...um.ok.. I've had my penis tattooed.
MADMARCY: sure you have
cisco127: Yeah. I had sort of a zig-zag done around the head. Sorta likeJughead's hat.
MADMARCY: yeah right
cisco127: you dont believe me, amanda?
MADMARCY: how do u remember my name?
cisco127: look...i just told you something extremely personal and youre just crushing me
MADMARCY: i am crushing u?
cisco127: i told you about what i did and you dont care nor believe me
MADMARCY: b/c no one would ever give u a tatoo like that
cisco127: yeah...big mama butch at big mama butch's tattoo hut
cisco127: they might not normally..but shes a 90's woman
MADMARCY: ok
MADMARCY: I will keep that in mind
cisco127: I was claiming authority over my own body. You see, in the 90's the body is the ultimate battle ground. Body modification is the ultimate transgressive act against the stifling conformity of the body politic.
MADMARCY: OK
cisco127: That and I've always loved Archie comics.
MADMARCY: I LOVE ARCHIE ALSO
cisco127: Really?
MADMARCY: of course
cisco127: So.... So you don't mind?
MADMARCY: why would i
cisco127: phew..thats good...um..hmm..well....i've also had my nose done
MADMARCY: what did u do to it/
cisco127: it's my sisters...i've always admired her nose..so we traded
MADMARCY: yeah i am sure u did
cisco127: mmm...spring is finally comin', huh
cisco127: which is good, cause i was gettin' sick of the snakes
MADMARCY: yeah me2
cisco127: You smell that? That's the smell of Spring, and I love it.
MADMARCY: yeah
cisco127: You know what I love to do in Spring? I love to come out into the woods, to walk amongst the budding trees, to smell and taste the hint of renewal that hovers in the air like a heady perfume, and to listen to the song of the birds who have returned from their long sojourn south, and bury the people I killed during the winter.
MADMARCY: are u going to watch the superbowl
cisco127: what's inside it?
cisco127: i had a suckerfish that live to age seventy two
cisco127: in suckerfish years, duh
cisco127: cindy morgendorf *claims* her suckerfish was an extra in "Baby Boom", but you dont believe that, right?
MADMARCY: no way
cisco127: well, mandy, i really must be heading off, i seem to have left unfinished business next door... as an axe murderer...i really should learn to step over procrastination and finsih what i start...well..i'll talk to you later
MADMARCY: OK BYE
cisco127: Ah...but dont fret...this is not the end...This is not even the beginning... of the end...But, it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning
cisco127: oh yes..and..dont think about telling anyone about this..or..uh..ya know..*chop* *chop*.....take it easy
Feature #28:
Okey, so the feature isn't much for this week because i have this INCREDIBLY long (yet quite humorous) conversation to post, but i just don't have the time to go through and clean it up (its a bit messy and would end up looking like hell if i just posted it right now). So, instead, i give you this:
I got a letter from some guy not too long ago that just simply said "are you that witty guy from high school? I remember you from Mr. Schmidt's english class!" Now, i can tell you.. that wasn't me. I graduated high school last year, and i don't remember EVER meeting anyone with the last name of Schmidt. So, i wrote him back explaining this, and i included my webpage hyperlink in the e-mail. Then, a day later, i get the following back:
Subj: Re: from High School
Date: 99-03-07 14:51:02 EST
From: kuren@poboxes.com (Kuren)
To: KNULPREK@aol.com
Hum, I must have your e-mail mixed up with another AOL user. Hey, I took a look at your web page.
1) It's hard to read the text against your black and white background. What
a silly layout.
2) Your web page lacks graphics, all those words, who wants to read them.
I was expecting something simpler.
3) In your picture, you look like a smooker/toker
Anyway, like I said, must have reached you by mistake. Have a nice day. - Kuren
First of all, who made this guy the judge on webpages? Second of all, this is the reason that Americans are considered to be the dumbest people polluting this planet.. nobody reads. If its not made into a movie or a mini-series on CBS, nobody wants to see it. Americans want pictures, and sounds, and happy fuzzy things. Anyobody ever read a book called "Brave New World"? Remember the feelies? Remember how nobody read? Mr. Kuren here is the reason for that. It scares me, but at the same time, i found it pretty funny.
And then there's that smooker/toker comment. .. .. ..what does that mean? I just don't know.
But anyway, i praise anyone who reads this. Not because its me and i like to have my stuff read, but because you're reading. Nobody here is crying about the amount of words they're suffering through. You're all the reason countries get anything done.. unlike bitchyface Kuren. Feel free to write that guy and tell him how stupid he is... his address is up there.
Feature #29:
Before you read this conversation, i have a couple things to say: I don't have many good things to say about organized religion, but unless it's in a humorous context that has no kind of preaching in it, i won't share it publically. I respect your decision to do whatever you must or will in this unexplaned spiritual world, and so i keep my opinions mine. Some people have, in fact, been "offended" by some of the jokes i've made on religion on this page, but i feel no shame in that.. it's unfortunate they couldn't drop their petty differences and enjoy the joke, but it's all in good fun.
So is this. Sure, religion is basically teared apart in this next conversation, but i have nothing to do with it. Someone sent this to me, and i thought it was funny.. sure, it's at the expense of Jesus and Pals, but i thought it was funny nonetheless. Reason i'm putting it up here is just that.. in no way am i preaching anything by sticking this up here. If you want to discuss religion, kindly e-mail me and i'd be thrilled to go into it with you.
But if not, just keep your trap shut if you're offended (or take it up with the speaker.. their consent, i believe, was given in posting this) and read on. This is nuts.
JoannCarri: Do you won't to chat?
A Mallomar: do you love the lord ?
JoannCarri: yes,u
JoannCarri: age/sex
A Mallomar: i'm a 16/m
A Mallomar: i love the lord
A Mallomar: i send all my money to tbn
JoannCarri: so do i
JoannCarri: cool
A Mallomar: you know, trinity broadcasting
A Mallomar: after i sell my body to make money, i send it all to the lord for redemption
A Mallomar: so are you joe, anne, or carrie ?
JoannCarri: nether
A Mallomar: oh, i could only assume
A Mallomar: so do you sell your body to make money for the lord ?
JoannCarri: no
A Mallomar: do you send the lord any money ?
JoannCarri: yes
A Mallomar: i occasionaly sell drugs outside my church to send extra if I feel i have siinned lately
JoannCarri: I don't think it is right!!!!!!!!
A Mallomar: whats not right about it ?i need money to send the lord, so I can get into heavan
JoannCarri: that is a sin in gods eyes
A Mallomar: are you really this stupid or are you experienceing epiphany right now ?
JoannCarri: god dose not need money
A Mallomar: then why do you send hime money ?
A Mallomar: him
JoannCarri: that is not what i ment to say
A Mallomar: what did you mean to say ?
JoannCarri: it is all right to send money him but not from seling drougs
JoannCarri: do you know what i mean?
A Mallomar: no
A Mallomar: explain it better
JoannCarri: you don't need to sell drougs to get money so that god will love you
A Mallomar: why ?
JoannCarri: because
A Mallomar: thats a great answer
A Mallomar: so god loves me no matter what ?
JoannCarri: god love you for who you are and not for what you do for him
A Mallomar: what if i'm a drug dealer that sends him money ?
JoannCarri: you are a sinner
A Mallomar: then i go to hell right ?
A Mallomar: so he doesn't love me for who i am
JoannCarri: yes you do
A Mallomar: what kind of loving god is that ?
JoannCarri: yes but not for what you do
JoannCarri: how old are you
A Mallomar: he loves me enough to send me to eternal damnation in a fiery pit ?
A Mallomar: i'm 16 dimwit
JoannCarri: i am no dim wit i am her mother
JoannCarri: dim wit
A Mallomar: what?
JoannCarri: so how can youask if she loves god and then tell her this
JoannCarri: you heard me
JoannCarri: her mother
JoannCarri: i just walked in
JoannCarri: he ask what i thougyht of it
A Mallomar: maybe you should type "mother:" before everything mom says
A Mallomar: it'll seperate for me, my drug dealing brain works slow
JoannCarri: this is mom amd not her
A Mallomar: ok
JoannCarri: she has left for now
JoannCarri: do you need to talk to some one
A Mallomar: well, i wanted a discussion with a god loving christian
JoannCarri: i am that
A Mallomar: have i found one ?
JoannCarri: so go on
A Mallomar: thats good, i feel relieved
A Mallomar: well, i was just curious as to what she thought of my whorshipping habits
JoannCarri: yes you have i do not judge that is God job not mone
JoannCarri: and they are
JoannCarri: oop mine
JoannCarri: you have nothing to say or what
A Mallomar: you said "and they are " i was waiting for a finish to that sentence
JoannCarri: what are your practices
A Mallomar: i only go to church rarely
A Mallomar: maybe once every month
JoannCarri: and why is that
A Mallomar: and i almost never pray at night
JoannCarri: then why do you go to the church
A Mallomar: i'm too busy selling drugs to make money for bread
JoannCarri: what is your name son
A Mallomar: jim
A Mallomar: whats your name, mom
JoannCarri: then jim you are in need of prayer
JoannCarri: chely
A Mallomar: will prayer give me guidance ?
JoannCarri: yes it will
A Mallomar: or just take up more time in my already busy day
JoannCarri: you can prayer at night before bed
JoannCarri: and at 16 ou can not be that busy
A Mallomar: my parents left me
JoannCarri: so you are alone
A Mallomar: right now i am
A Mallomar: i can only afford this computer by selling drugs
JoannCarri: would you like me to prayer for you
A Mallomar: um, chely, the verb is pray
A Mallomar: where are you from ?
JoannCarri: hey give me a break here you are the one in the spiritual hell
JoannCarri: wi
JoannCarri: i am just tring to do my christian job here
A Mallomar: thats true, so, are there enough drug dealers in wi, or could I get business there ?
JoannCarri: nope no business here sorry
A Mallomar: i could live with you, then i could stop selling drugs to feed myself
JoannCarri: we do not have it here
A Mallomar: please, it would be evry "good samaritan" of you
A Mallomar: very
JoannCarri: where are your parents
A Mallomar: dead
A Mallomar: they left me to go to a better place
JoannCarri: you said they left jimmy
A Mallomar: how about yours chely
JoannCarri: mine are alive and well thank you
A Mallomar: please refer to me as jim
JoannCarri: ok fine
A Mallomar: thank you
JoannCarri: then do ot try to lie to me
A Mallomar: when did i lie to you ?
JoannCarri: when you said they were dead
A Mallomar: thats not a lie, i'm hurt that you think that, do i doubt whther our parents are as you say they are ?
A Mallomar: whether
JoannCarri: hey you said they left, then yous said they were dead so what are they
A Mallomar: they left me to go to a better place , meaning heaven
JoannCarri: thank you
A Mallomar: no problem
JoannCarri: and how did this happen and when
JoannCarri: and why no family
A Mallomar: they were shot by a drug dealer in 1987
A Mallomar: my parents were spurned by they're family for converting to christianity
JoannCarri: and you deal drugs
A Mallomar: we are born shinto
A Mallomar: i've forever been looking for that drug dealer
A Mallomar: and i also don't shoot anyone
JoannCarri: you need prayer badly jim and you should get it fast the end is near
JoannCarri: and you should know that
A Mallomar: the end ?
JoannCarri: youmay not have another chance
JoannCarri: the rapture
A Mallomar: i should live for another 70 years
JoannCarri: you do know the bible
A Mallomar: the what ?
JoannCarri: if God allows you to
A Mallomar: oh, that big book
JoannCarri: smart ass
JoannCarri: the one you need
JoannCarri: jusat remember that God love you
A Mallomar: i carried one with me at all times when i was young, about 4, but when my parents died my uncle took it away at the funeral, i think he burned it
JoannCarri: and he will ask
JoannCarri: why did you not listen
A Mallomar: i'm listening
JoannCarri: when he does ask you why should you be allow in to my kingdom what will yousay
A Mallomar: i thought it was saint peter at the gate ?
JoannCarri: and this is the last thing i will ask
JoannCarri: nope you are so very wrong
A Mallomar: ok
JoannCarri: God will ask you on judgement day
JoannCarri: then what jim
A Mallomar: then what ?
JoannCarri: after this i have to go and you can talk toi joann>
JoannCarri: what will you say
A Mallomar: what will i say ? i'll say "i love you, and all the sin i've committed has been in your name"
JoannCarri: and i will pray for you jim may the lord be with you
A Mallomar: he's with me right now, i can feel his presence
A Mallomar: joann....?
JoannCarri: hold on
A Mallomar: ok
A Mallomar: you still there ?
JoannCarri: no
A Mallomar: um.... are you sure you're not there ?
JoannCarri: yes
JoannCarri: what do you won't?????
A Mallomar: what does that mean ?
A Mallomar: "what do you won't ?"
A Mallomar: heyt, if you meant to ask "what do want" the answer is to marry you and live in your house
JoannCarri: I told you on what to do so in till you do what I fuckin said then don't talk to me
A Mallomar: you told me to "hold on", i held on for awhile, i wasn't falling off
JoannCarri: I can't marry you I'm 13
A Mallomar: we can move to louisiana
JoannCarri: no
A Mallomar: why ?
JoannCarri: I don't know you and I don't what to live with a droug dealer.sorry,bye
A Mallomar: if you can support me for a time i can stop selling drugs and become a minister
A Mallomar: i can get my own parish, we can subsistance farm ....
JoannCarri: please stop trying to talk to me and just E mail me.ok.bye
That's it.
Feature #30:
So, if you live in the South Florida area and watch the news at all, you would have seen me. A friend and i stood on line for a good 24 hours to get tickets to Star Wars (i actually flew home from college, ate dinner at home, and went straight to wait online), and then another many hours the week after to actually get in and sit down in some darn good seats. In the process, i managed to get myself interviewed on three television stations at prime time (and one at 5:30 am, but hey..!), and was in the background of EVERY news station! Let me tell you.. being on the news is fun stuff!
But here's what was nuts. I saw some dude taking pictures, and i happened to be in the line of fire... then not only do i become the FOCUS of the picture, but this ran on the FRONT COVER of the newspaper! Unfortunatly, they screwed my last name up(Feifer, not Felfer), but hey.. that's fine! So, i'm just going to show off and run this picture now.. so, here you are! (oh, that's my friend Seth behind me, in case you care..!)
There are more features to be had.
Features I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI
Or, we can always go back.