From: Legume <email@example.com>
Date: Wed, Jul 7, 2004
Another XDay at Brushwood, come and gone.
Now, I'm gonna start out by telling y'all a little something;
for me, it
was just another weekend at Brushwood...I'm there pretty often, so I
don't get all swept up in the energy like y'all once-a-year Subs do.
Many of you may have noticed I don't participate as
much as I used to.
That's because I finally listened to something Stang has said for years;
"There are some people who look where the finger's pointing, and others
who are content to just suck the finger". I don't even consider myself a
SubGenius anymore. I more consider myself a graduate from its'
I imagine he'd be doing whatever brings him slack.
And I'm doing the
"In Xanadu did Kublai Khan
a stately pleasure-dome decree,
where Alph, the sacred river, ran
through caverns measureless to man
down to a sunless sea"
I built my own escape vessel, my Stately Slackerdome
Decreed. "Every man
a king". Huey P. Long said that, and somewhere in one of those SubG
texts, it's echoed; "Every child and dog a serf, and every man a king".
That's all about the True Slack that one gets from Ubermanhood, that
throne of your own kingdom upon which you sit yourself God.
In my kingdom, things are pretty fucking good. It's
hard to drag
yourself to SubGenius events knowing that you're leaving a hot tub full
of naked titties behind. Fortunately, the trip from my house to
Brushwood has a hot tub full of naked titties at each end.
I reckon he can take care of himself fine without me.
As for myself, I'd
just as soon devote my energies to achieving my OWN slack. The Church
provided me with lots of that over the years, but these days, my other
interests take up most of my time and all of my energy. Besides that,
I'm THE DEVIL, Jesus's half-brother (that's a little-known piece of
church trivia, by the way). It's a busy time for me, there are wars,
strife, drinking, jamming at Tiki Banzai, preparing for Armageddon, frog
watching. Belonging to the same church as Jesus is a conflict of
interest. Standard Devil Employment Agreement. Fucking Lawyers. Hell's
full of em'. Surprised I got away with it as long as I did. That's
what they get for trusting me.
But hey, why the fuck should you care why I'd rather
get cowboy drunk and
play the harmonica than dress up like a Catholic and scream about
spacemen? This is my XDay report, not "Legume's Rehashing of Why He
Chucked His Ceremonial Underpants".
I arrived Friday afternoon at Brushwood, Mrs. Legume
in tow. My car blew
it's transmission the weekend before, and I almost wasn't able to go at
all. Fortunately, my neighbor decided that he needed someone to put a
whole bunch of highway miles on his new $35000 truck "to blow all the
built-up shit out of the motor" while he was off in the Caribbean hiring
wild negroes to fight one of his wars.
I rolled down around the pond to Tiki Banzai, and was
with a rocketfull of frop...as usual.
That night I ate a big pile of fun and then got DRUNK.
Not just drunk,
but ERNEST HEMINGWAY DRUNK. In the first 36 hours, Brother Chaz and I
consumed a half gallon of Cap'n Morgan's Private Stock, and if there's
been another bottle we have drank that too.
For the last few weeks I've found myself utterly consumed
Brushwood frogs. I'm convinced I can learn something from them, some
weird Kung Fu or maybe pyrokinesis. I've captured several of them to
bring as ambassadors to Tiki Banzai, including one of the dreaded Giant
Apocalypse Frogs. Poor LeeBurls, she was sitting late at night in Tiki
Banzai stroking "Buford the Frog King" lovingly, when he suddenly decided
to leap into the Banzai fire, which kind of freaked her out I imagine,
especially considering she was...well...considering her situation I'll be
discreet and leave it to your imagination. Fortunately, Buford was
protected by his layer of protective frog snot. He hopped right back out
of the fire and we returned him to the swamp. Moments later, he let loose
with a thunderous croak as if to say "Fuck You".
By the way, there are some Xcellent pics of Buford and
Lee and other
sights from last weekend to be seen at the swampradio Yahoo group.
The rest of the weekend was kind of foggy. There was
more rum and fire
and skulls and frogs and Rocknar's lumpy ass and stuff and mushrooms and
a mad killer chipmunk that screamed and kicked Mr.Bunny's ass and lots of
wild sweating and red eyes and bad smells and pissing in a dry creek and
wet clothes and I jumped out of a window and there was a girl who didn't
know she had pussy juice on her face and there were more frogs and we had
biscuits and gravy and there was music and an invisible audience and ass-
dancing and I had seven pairs of titties on my head and not one gal
complained about me groping her all weekend.
Oh, yeah, and you guys were having Xday that weekend, too.
The pagans all laughed at the SubGeniuses' lameness.
It's true. You all
failed to annoy the pagans. Nobody shit in the tub. Nobody lit anything
sacred on fire thinking it was abandoned trash (which is apparently
sacred). No minors were publicly sodomized, nobody showed up and said,
"I'm gonna eat a bucket of LSD and show everyone my new fireproof super
I'm gonna give you all one more chance. If you don't
annoy the pagans in
a proper and Dobbs-approved manner next year, I'm gonna organize the
pagans and we're going to petition the Barneys to not let the SubGenius
church hold XDay there anymore. There are PLENTY of annoying goofy
Internet cults out there who'd LOVE to wait for their flying saucers at
Brushwood, and who aren't too lame and unimaginative to go that extra
mile to annoy the regulars in the manner to which they're accustomed.
Big thanks, as always, to my Banzai Cowboy bros, for
being the best
bunch of motherfuckers to ever pass me a rum bottle.
And special "thanks" to a certain someone
who made my weekend just a bit
more freaky. You know who you are.
From: Cardinal Vertigo <firstname.lastname@example.org>
> And special "thanks" to a certain someone who made my weekend just a bit
> more freaky. You know who you are.
Back at ya, babycakes.
"Quotation confesses inferiority."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Original file name: X-Day Seven - Legume.txt - converted on Saturday, 25 September 2004, 02:05
This page was created using TextToHTML. TextToHTML is a free software for Macintosh and is (c) 1995,1996 by Kris Coppieters