Other Stuff

Welcome to the unsupported stuff. In actual fact, it's all unsupported stuff. I don't have anything that provides any support, accepts any blame, or does any dishes to, from, about, within, without, etc, you. Or me. Or my "documents".

All I can say is that they were all written by me at some time or another and therefore could be a little nasty. What the hey, it's life and we all change in time don't we? Especially you. That beard *really* suits you although the false nose is a bit over the top! (You didn't think I could see that did you? There's cameras everywhere. BEHIND YOU! Only joking!) It's in front of you, disguised as your reflection.


 

A quick Note: Sometimes I'll get a piece of email asking me where a certain thing I posted to news is, as it isn't listed above. The Answer is: SOME things I don't like at *ALL* any more, some things I've lost, and some things were just posted on-the-fly to news without my attention to the little detail of taking a copy. So, if it's here, it's here; if it's not, it's not.

In the words of KurtV... "So it goes"


 

When I write myself into a Corner...

The Real Other Stuff

Chain Letters

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So I'm at the post office, and straight away I know I'm in trouble because the letter's got a stamp and a handwritten address. I was hoping for a franked, typed envelope - a bill or something expected like that. A handwritten envelope can only mean one thing - someone's found me.

Bugger.

I open the envelope and the sweat evaporates - it's just a chain letter.

I read the letter and it's a sex one this time. Full of "pass this on or your sex life will turn to shit" and that sort of thing. I wonder briefly if I've received this letter before in some way because I seem to have spent the last year or so paying for it.

Shit I hate chain letters. Next to pyramid selling, people who pass chain letters on should be the first in line for a swift couple of kicks in the genitals. And as for the people who write the things in the first place...

I get the name of all the senders off it and write my own. It goes like this:

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"This letter was written in Dryroot, Texas.

It will bring you good luck if you pass it on to everyone you know. Honest! Don't send me money - that's my other scam, this one's for free.

In 1978 it was passed to Ellis Wilson who immediately got a hard-on. Sick Bitch. She never passed it on; I found out and went round her place and blew her away with my magnum. Next I passed it on to the three Wayne brothers in Mark 4 Zephyr, Illinois. They never passed it on either, so I ran them down outside a picture theatre after "Staying Alive" in 1981. How they came to be watching it 2 years before it's release date has me buggered too, but I killed them anyway. Petrice Washington of Penis-Envy, Montana was next to get the letter but she couldn't read. Didn't matter tho, I caved her head in with a house-brick one night while she was watching "Studs", which is reason enough in itself for getting your head bashed in. Next in line for the letter was Roy Bladder of Date-Farmer, Ohio he gave it to his mother, but she burnt it so I gave them both a cement enema before pushing them off the Empire State building in '91. He died happy tho, the bastard! After him came Sharon Ellis-Winters of Brown-Tongue, Texas and Dave Smith of Puckered-Anus, Mississipi or however you spell that bloody place, and they did bugger all with it, but admittedly, I did kill them with an electric toothbrush (with hammer action) 5 minutes after they received it. Sharon hadn't even opened the envelope either. Talk about laugh! After them was Alice CD-Player and Pete Wall-Calendar both of BleedingPrivates, Indiana who met at the bar where I hang out, but the selfish bastards stacked their car into a school bus before I could get to them.

Anyway, next in the line is you {XXXXXX}.

And I've just bought a shiny new chainsaw.

I don't give a shit whether you pass the message on or not any more."

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I drop the letters in the post and wander back home. On the way home I throw the letter I got in the bin. Do your worst.