thanks to all at x-day

From: Joe Cosby <>
Date: Tue, Jul 6, 2004

Sorry I didn't get around much, I am pretty shy in person.

Thanks especially to Sister Decandence, who is an even more stunning
presence in person than I expected. Sorry I wasn't more chatty, I am
a little tongue-tied when I don't know people well. God you are just
incredibly sweet in person.

I guess my kind of vague plan for the evening was that I would get
very drunk which, for better or worse, brings me out of my shell.
Mostly for better, I'm a fairly non ignorant drunk. Usually. Well
sometimes. Well, as far as I can tell, when I'm drunk, anyway.

Which depended on the legendary tiki bar I had heard so much about ...
that and there was a very odd, sweet odor in the air that I found
myself somehow wanting to get a little closer to. Some form of
medicinal Church herb I think.

Well, if I do this again next year, mebbe it would be a good idea to
show up a little earlier.

But saucers or not, that thunder and lightning on x-day eve was a

We were CLOSE. We were VERY CLOSE.

The very fabric of the universe was being tore apart.

So why, if we were so close, did the aliens snub us once again?


Merv Griffin must die before they will come.

Some brave Subgenius warrior must remove the defiler of the Sex

And thanks Stang for putting up with me. Although you aren't as
stunning in person as Sis Dec. I was a little let down there. I
mean, would it be asking so much for you to slip into a body-fitting
black velvet body wrap once in a while?

Although I thought we were really having a moment with the bear-hug

Oh and just a note for anybody hoping to show up for the saucers: BE

Otherwise Stang won't believe you exist.


It was weird but I wouldn't have missed it for the world.


Sorry again to those to whom I didn't introduce myself, I didn't mean
to be rude or whatever. I just wasn't there very long.


Oh and before I forget; Rev Stang, if you are ever going to get rid
of that robe you were wearing for the bobbie awards, the black one
with red trim, I want a bid on it.

That is really damn cool.

Joe Cosby
Dockery seems to be a pink afro-puff homo-mustache lamer clear through.


From: Sister Decadence <>

It was a pleasure to meet you. I wish you could have hung out with
everyone a bit more but I am very glad you said hi.



From: Sister Decadence <>

Joe Cosby <> wrote:

Hey, would you send me an e-mail note so I can write you back?



From: (Joe Cosby)

purple <> wrote in message news:<>...
> Screw the "shyness". You're pathetic. Now all you have is instant messaging.

This coming from a guy whose only means of expression is to hang
around somewhere he is loathed getting abused.

Yeah I need lifestyle advice from you, Dean.

Alls I can say is, I hope if I am as universally reviled as you here
or anyplace, I will have the sense to go elsewhere. I've never really
been in that position so I can't say for a fact I have that much
sense. On the other hand, one of us can say for a fact he doesn't.

It would bother me. There is a certain patheticness to that. I hate
the thought that somebody I liked would hate me or that I would really
make the effort and just come off as a jerk. I watch people here or
in other groups go off one way or another, and then get attacked, and
then go ballistic. Battering and battering away, trying to argue
people into liking them. Or really just not caring. That's what
you're doing here. Either you go on making an ass of yourself as a
way of getting back at people who have roundly rejected you or your
eggs are so scrambled that it just doesn't make any difference to you.

Shyness or whatever you want to call it. I suppose it's just a
defence mechanism. A reflex because that really would bother me. I
really just don't care one way or another about 99% of the world and
99% of people. 99% of people are rude jerks. Making any kind of an
effort to the one percent I like is like reaching out at a hot stove.
I know it's a risk so part of me won't do it.

Yes, that's pathetic.

And I know I won't have going ballistic to fall back on. I know me
too well to play that shit.

Call it what you want. Maybe it's the worst kind of pink boy

But if it weren't for that reflex, I would be just like you. If it
didn't matter to me one way or another what people thought of me, I
would just be blathering empty crap at the moon, and wasting my time
attacking people who hate my guts.

To me that is pathetic beyond description.

More people are like you than me. I listened to the neighbor kids
yesterday, one group of them was yelling insults back and forth at
another group for like an hour. Really dumb insults, the kind that
5-10 year old kids come up with. It went on so long I thought they
had to be playing, but later I went out and one of the neighbor kids,
this really nice little girl, was out there and near tears over it.
As nicely as I could, I pointed out that she could just LEAVE THEM
ALONE and they would leave her alone.

Or I watch guys in bars, drinking themselves into a stupor and
inevitably getting near or into a fight when the rest of the world
doesn't treat them with the awe and respect that they kinda figured on
when they went out that night. Or more like it, getting abusive and
nasty to some girl because she rejects him.

Most people JUST GET PISSED when they get rejected. So it never hurts

But the problem with that is, you have to carry that around. You have
to invent this little fantasy world where it was that STUCK UP BITCH
in the club's fault when she didn't instantly have multiple orgasms
when you staggered drunkenly to her table and made some lewd remark
that somehow sounded a lot wittier in the movie you copied it from.

Or that you are endlessly spamming a bunch of stupid, mindless crap to
alt.slack because in the fantasy world you live in, you are at a
HIGHER LEVEL than they are so they just don't see it.

One way or another, you have to keep up a fantasy that gaurantees that
you will continue acting in exactly the way you were, if you don't
want to deal with the reality that you aren't liked.

That is what I think of as the pink world. A bunch of twisted-up
fools so lost in different layers of self-delusion that you could
never possibly unravel it to the start. Hating ALL THE WRONG THINGS.
Hating all the things that are real because those are the things that
would force them to face reality. And desperately hungry for all the
crap that the conspiracy sells to make you feel better about yourself,
to reinforce the delusion that they are NEVER WRONG, and that
everybody should love them.

Endlessly playing out the same stupid games, like democrats versus
republicans, or God versus the Devil, anything to give them a scenario
that accounts for all the LITTLE GAPS in reality which is their life.

I'd rather be a little pathetic sometimes than have to live in a
fantasy world like you do, Dean.


Thanks Dean.

Flaming you always makes me feel better about myself.

Joe Cosby
"We used up all the sick days; so we called in dead"
--WEBN DJs--

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