Bummers & Beauties--Lil's XDV Report, version 0.1a

From: Her Ladyship Lilith von Fraumench <lilith@ZubJenius.com>
Newsgroups: alt.slack
Date: Tue, Jul 9, 2002 9:14 PM

This was the best of X-Days; this was the worst of X-Days.

Fair warning--I'm starting THIS report by going through ALL the
anti-slack that was endured by myself, Popess Lilith von Fraumench, as
well as my consort, the lovely St. Thea GirlUWant von Fraumench.

GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING CONSPIRACY KNOWS HOW TO FOUL UP ANY BLOWHOLE. And
my own blowholes were mostly CLOGGED the whole time. Nasty fucking
hayfever made it very difficult to sleep. Even with pills to help drain
my nose indirectly, I found myself missing my Dremel tool. A couple of
drainage holes in the soft palate might've left my mouth not only
snotty but bloody, but I would've been able to BREATHE.

You know you're fucked when SLACK, to you, is to be able to BREATHE
"NORMALLY".

Thea and I had to travel separately, causing lots of anxiety on both
accounts--hers, based on her fear of flying, and mine, based on my
loathing for mass systems of ground transport. As it turned out, my
flight was an uneventful one--HOWEVER, as it was a red-eye, I was too
tired to remember to TAKE MY PILS, leading to several days when the
littlest thing would make me want to cry AND kill all at once. In
Thea's case, she had to endure forest fires, floods, and helpless
elderly people, and is ready to learn how to NOT fear flying.

Shortly after having set up our honeymoon suite--a rather spacious
affair, actually, a tent in which I can actually stand mostly erect!--
we had neighbors a bit close for my personal comfort. We had to
seriously restrict our bonobing as a result, lest we find ourselves
with audience participation, or worse, bootlegging. Although I
initially blamed Rocknar, it turns out that the insane MOTHER of Rev.
EF, one of the IRC regulars, was to blame. So I have a big dirty frozen
airplane-toilet-detritus FINGER for her, to be lovingly applied next
chance possible, OR NOT.

All the new ranters blew their wads on Thursday night, before any
scheduled activities, meaning I didn't get many bribes for stage time
during Friday and Saturday, and even those who DID bribe me didn't show
up. This had me agitated until I decided that the "Fuck It Principle"
should be applied.

Thea and I both had to WORK OFF OUR X-DAYS. As a result both of us were
lacking in energy and motivation. I partied for a couple of days, a
little. But let there be no mistake, most of our time was spent back at
camp whimpering and whining and wishing the torment would just stop.
But we were so broke that we barely scraped by, between working for
Brushwood and the Foundation and selling Connie fish stickers and the
occasional bribe. But we did scrape by, praise "Bob", and at the end of
this report I'll list my thank-yous for those who showed up with
SCRAPERS.

Columbus Airport, on the return flight, was a total fucking nightmare!
It seems that some airport security agents seem to think that a wall
plaque of a demon with fake miniature weapons can be used as a REAL
WEAPON. Also, Wartenberg pinwheels. The pinwheel is made of chromed
steel and is basically a little medical tool, with little spikes on the
outermost part of the wheel. You can run it down someone's skin rapidly
and make them think they were cut open, but it causes damned little
damage--if you're too hard with it, you MIGHT scratch their skin. This
medical tool is now considered a TERRORIST THREAT.

And when I returned to check in the carry-on with the plaque and the
pinwheel, I couldn't find my ID, and so couldn't check in the carry-on,
let alone go back through security or through the gate. Fortunately, I
found where I misplaced it, but by this point I was really badly
emotional. At least I got a handful of free Kleenex for it.

And I'm still broke.

But, FUCK IT. I HAD THE BEST WEDDING I COULD EVER ASK FOR!!!

I was beautiful, Thea was beautiful, Rabbi and Joy De Veeve were
beautiful bride's maids, the audience was beautiful, Stang's speech
before the vows was beautiful, the music was beautiful, the FLOWERS
were beautiful, oh my fucking Dobbs that wedding was the #1 SAVING
GRACE of my X-Day. I could probably go on about it for HOURS. Although
we had billed this wedding as the Wedding To End All Weddings, Xists
Permitting, I actually hope this will lead to MORE SubGenius weddings.
There have been so many, but I think ours was the coolest of the lot,
on so many levels at once.

My favorite part, however, was looking at Thea while she looked at me,
both knowingly, grinning like fools every time Stang inadvertently
drove WAY home on his speech. There were so many comments that we
could've considered inside jokes except I know that most humanoids do
it too, even if they don't admit it on the Internet. Grooming
instincts, for instance, are way more common than one might realize,
and really does form a basis for True Love. Someone who'd pick your
ticks and eye boogers off you has to be someone special indeed.

That was July 4. After the Xists failed to show up at 7 AM yet again,
Thea and I had decided to go into town and buy our Conspiracy wedding
papers. See, while I'm obviously becoming more and more female with
every shot of Connie Juice plunged into my divine cheek meat, I am
still *technically*, and therefore legally, male. Hence, my ID
dutifully reports an "M" for those who are morbidly curious about
what's between my legs. By this loophole, two "lesbians" can in fact
legally marry. And we did.

In Sherman, New York.

Meaning, it wouldn't be enough to show up with an M on my ID. I had to
walk the walk--LITERALLY. (Slight shuffle, no hip-swinging, slumped
over so the tits didn't show and to add that ever-so-charming male
indifference.) I had to change into men's clothes for this, which were
kindly lent by Rev. Otto. I had to practice my OLD voice, which I had
nearly forgotten. In fact, I think I sounded more like my kid brother
than like me. I had Thea practice calling me "he" and had to come up
with a variant of my legal name that might be regarded as male--"Lyle".

And despite my most valiant attempt, the town clerk looked at the ID
and presumed I was female--because of my MIDDLE NAME.

"Dawn is a man's name?!?" she said incredulously.

"My parents were hippies," I deadpanned with a bit of embarassment in
my voice.

"He gets that all the time," Thea added helpfully.

"I love you, Cynthia."

"I love you, Lyle."

MALE PRIVILEGE--FOOEY!!!

But we DID IT ANYHOW. Because we CAN. And because of health insurance
benefits, tax breaks, inheritance laws, etc. etc. But legal issues
aside, I marry Thea again and again EVERY NIGHT, before bed, *just to
be safe*, and I can't wait to marry her again tonight, hail Connie!

And damn, am I SO happy to have married her in the first place! Thea
isn't just my bonobo ballet partner, she isn't merely my slave--she is
my best friend in the whole world. I can spend hours laying in bed with
her, talking and cracking jokes and snuggling up. That's the best part
of the marriage right there, not counting the crazed perverted lusts
she and I indulge regularly. And that's how I most fondly remember
X-Day--as a chance to be next to the woman I love, and cherishing every
moment that wasn't marred with sinus problems or sunburn.

Indeed, the dichotomy of having obvious slack from being with Thea,
opposed to the scarce slack of actually running events, led me to
invoke the "Fuck It Principle" in major ways. I blew off the hot sauce
contest and the BDSM seminar we were talking about doing. I blew off
the Bobtism rather than running about in a panic. Most of all, and most
ironic, I quit my job WITH "Bob", for ME.

That's right, I hereby resign as stage manager at X-Day events. Next
year, Thea and I will be on vacation and won't do a lick of work for
anyone. I understand that Phloighd has already volunteered to be the
next stage manager. I wish him luck in this endeavor and look forward
to nagging him about the way the stage is being run.

Oh, and one last bit of odd slack. While at Brushwood, the
walkie-talkies that we had brought with us REFUSED to work. Upon
getting back to Seattle, however, I found that ONE of them, at least,
began to mysteriously work! It's a sign that, at this X-Day, I too
should have failed to work. And it's a sign I shall honor at the NEXT
X-Day, when I'm sure there will be no mechanical or psychological
breakdowns.

Her Ladyship Lilith

--
--=8=-- \m/ --=8=-- http://lilith.foolspress.com/ --=8=-- \m/ --=8=--
You'll say that the 50's isn't the present, but we'll have to differ on
that. -- RLan538885 in 20020617153210.12229.00001550@mb-fe.aol.com

----------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Rev. Ivan Stang" <stang@subgenius.com>

In article <090720021814059363%lilith@ZubJenius.com>, Her Ladyship
Lilith von Fraumench <lilith@ZubJenius.com> wrote:

>
> You know you're fucked when SLACK, to you, is to be able to BREATHE
> "NORMALLY".

1 soul/breath

>
> All the new ranters blew their wads on Thursday night, before any
> scheduled activities, meaning I didn't get many bribes for stage time
> during Friday and Saturday, and even those who DID bribe me didn't show
> up. This had me agitated until I decided that the "Fuck It Principle"
> should be applied.

I too found it odd that we provided this stage, powerful public address
systems and a captive audience of potential brainwashees, and yet just
about NOBODY took advantage of it.

We must be FASCISTS! That's the only explanation. A RIGID FASCIST
HIERARCHY! It can't be that some of the SubGenii are LAZY, or SCARED,
or perhaps discovered at the last minute that "ranting" isn't as easy
with 100 strangers staring bug-eyed at you as it is in the party room
with 2 drunk buddies.

I think we know who has the BALLS and OVARIES in this church, oh my
daughter!

The ones BRAVE enough to make TOTAL UTTER IDIOTS OF THEMSELVES!

>
> And I'm still broke.
>
> But, FUCK IT. I HAD THE BEST WEDDING I COULD EVER ASK FOR!!!
>
> I was beautiful, Thea was beautiful, Rabbi and Joy De Veeve were
> beautiful bride's maids, the audience was beautiful, Stang's speech
> before the vows was beautiful, the music was beautiful, the FLOWERS
> were beautiful, oh my fucking Dobbs that wedding was the #1 SAVING
> GRACE of my X-Day. I could probably go on about it for HOURS. Although
> we had billed this wedding as the Wedding To End All Weddings, Xists
> Permitting, I actually hope this will lead to MORE SubGenius weddings.
> There have been so many, but I think ours was the coolest of the lot,
> on so many levels at once.

It was probably the most truly touching wedding I've conducted and I
think the couple had something to do with that.

Remember folks, Rev. Stang is available for weddings or supermarket
openings... next wedding up is August 8th, Rev. Varga, aka The
Sexicutioner from GWAR, in Antarctica. Unless they have to change the
venue to New York or something.

>
> My favorite part, however, was looking at Thea while she looked at me,
> both knowingly, grinning like fools every time Stang inadvertently
> drove WAY home on his speech. There were so many comments that we
> could've considered inside jokes except I know that most humanoids do
> it too, even if they don't admit it on the Internet. Grooming
> instincts, for instance, are way more common than one might realize,
> and really does form a basis for True Love. Someone who'd pick your
> ticks and eye boogers off you has to be someone special indeed.

The regular preachers often leave that stuff out in favor of
high-faluting bullshit that makes the old ladies in the pews weep but
actually helps bolster the false expectations that lead to divorce.

We're ass-scratchin' Bonobo monkeys and dang proud of it!

>
> That was July 4. After the Xists failed to show up at 7 AM yet again,
> Thea and I had decided to go into town and buy our Conspiracy wedding
> papers. See, while I'm obviously becoming more and more female with
> every shot of Connie Juice plunged into my divine cheek meat, I am
> still *technically*, and therefore legally, male. Hence, my ID
> dutifully reports an "M" for those who are morbidly curious about
> what's between my legs. By this loophole, two "lesbians" can in fact
> legally marry. And we did.

?!?!?? LESBIANS??!?!? HOLY SHIT, that's an ABOMINATION! If I'da known
you were LESBIANS I NEVER would have conducted that ceremony.
LESBIANS!!! Well Now I've seen everything! Hell, I thought you two
were just a couple a straight gals out for a good time eating out each
other's genitals. LESBIANS?!?!? I think I'm gonna PUKE!

>
> But we DID IT ANYHOW. Because we CAN. And because of health insurance
> benefits, tax breaks, inheritance laws, etc. etc. But legal issues
> aside, I marry Thea again and again EVERY NIGHT, before bed, *just to
> be safe*, and I can't wait to marry her again tonight, hail Connie!

Practice makes perfect!

>
> And damn, am I SO happy to have married her in the first place! Thea
> isn't just my bonobo ballet partner, she isn't merely my slave--she is
> my best friend in the whole world. I can spend hours laying in bed with
> her, talking and cracking jokes and snuggling up. That's the best part
> of the marriage right there, not counting the crazed perverted lusts
> she and I indulge regularly.

You guys are damn lucky, BUT, you also serve as reminder to those who
are lonesome that NO ONE KNOWS what lies right around the corner. It
MIGHT be something TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE yet TRUE NONETHELESS.

If a couple of fucked up nerds from Dallas like you and me can score
THIS MIGHTILY, then probably anyone can. Eh, except that one fuckhead.
The important thing is to not die. Well, I mean, that's gonna happen
anyway. So why rush it.

The "slave" part didn't come with the package I got, though... do you
have to pay extra for that?

>
> Indeed, the dichotomy of having obvious slack from being with Thea,
> opposed to the scarce slack of actually running events, led me to
> invoke the "Fuck It Principle" in major ways. I blew off the hot sauce
> contest and the BDSM seminar we were talking about doing. I blew off
> the Bobtism rather than running about in a panic. Most of all, and most
> ironic, I quit my job WITH "Bob", for ME.

Damn, first Bill Miller wises up, now Lil. Who will be the next control
freak/victim?

>
> That's right, I hereby resign as stage manager at X-Day events. Next
> year, Thea and I will be on vacation and won't do a lick of work for
> anyone. I understand that Phloighd has already volunteered to be the
> next stage manager. I wish him luck in this endeavor and look forward
> to nagging him about the way the stage is being run.

AS LONG AS IT AIN'T ME!!

>
> Oh, and one last bit of odd slack. While at Brushwood, the
> walkie-talkies that we had brought with us REFUSED to work. Upon
> getting back to Seattle, however, I found that ONE of them, at least,
> began to mysteriously work! It's a sign that, at this X-Day, I too
> should have failed to work. And it's a sign I shall honor at the NEXT
> X-Day, when I'm sure there will be no mechanical or psychological
> breakdowns.

We figured out too late that the Electro-Stimulo-Wristbands screw up
the walkie talkies if they're on the same hand that you're holding the
transmitter in. They mess up some cell phones too. And pacemakers. We
found out a little late about that, too. (Nobody you know.)

--
4th Stangian Orthodox MegaFisTemple Lodge of the Wrath of Dobbs Yeti,
Resurrected (Rev. Ivan Stang, prop.)
P.O. Box 181417, Cleveland, OH 44118 (fax 216-320-9528)
A subsidiary of:
The SubGenius Foundation, Inc. / P.O. Box 204206, Austin, TX 78720-4206
Dobbs-Approved Authorized Commercial Outreach of The Church of the SubGenius
SubSITE: http://www.subgenius.com
For SubGenius Biz & Orders: call toll free to 1-888-669-2323
or email: jesus@subgenius.com
PRABOB

----------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Her Ladyship Lilith von Fraumench <lilith@ZubJenius.com>

In article <100720021304484368%stang@subgenius.com>, Rev. Ivan Stang
<stang@subgenius.com> wrote:

> 1 soul/breath

Air is the worst addictive substance--try going five minutes without it
and you get HORRIBLE withdrawal symptoms. Imagine how I felt, going for
HOURS with only a coffee stirrer to provide a functional breathing
passage other than my mouth.

> We must be FASCISTS! That's the only explanation. A RIGID FASCIST
> HIERARCHY! It can't be that some of the SubGenii are LAZY, or SCARED,
> or perhaps discovered at the last minute that "ranting" isn't as easy
> with 100 strangers staring bug-eyed at you as it is in the party room
> with 2 drunk buddies.

Either that, or were too tight-assed to give me ANY bribes. Not even a
QUARTER. What cheepnis abounds! And these WERE the same types who paid
the same amount for a bottle of STADIUM MUSTARD as they did for SISTER
DECADENCE, who I am pretty sure *tastes* better than stadium mustard
any old day! THIS IS A SICK AND PERVERSE NATION, FRIENDS!!!

> I think we know who has the BALLS and OVARIES in this church, oh my
> daughter!
>
> The ones BRAVE enough to make TOTAL UTTER IDIOTS OF THEMSELVES!

You'd think that the mere knowledge that they are either dumbasses or
shitheads--or maybe fuckwads or some cross-breed like the dumbshits or
the fuckheads--would be enough to erase any such concern, but NO! Most
people are loathe to admit they are ANY kind of head AT ALL.

> We're ass-scratchin' Bonobo monkeys and dang proud of it!

And when you have another ass to scratch, and someone else to scratch
your ass for you, AH! There is simply no more sweet and intimate
moment, genitals or no, that can compare with someone who knows just
where to scratch.

> ?!?!?? LESBIANS??!?!? HOLY SHIT, that's an ABOMINATION! If I'da known
> you were LESBIANS I NEVER would have conducted that ceremony.
> LESBIANS!!! Well Now I've seen everything! Hell, I thought you two
> were just a couple a straight gals out for a good time eating out each
> other's genitals. LESBIANS?!?!? I think I'm gonna PUKE!

"*Watch* two girls making it? Hell, I'd rather BE two girls making it!"
And WE MADE IT. It's a delight, being the subject of "Bob"'s sexual
fantasies, even if I do worry about what he's going to do next.

> You guys are damn lucky, BUT, you also serve as reminder to those who
> are lonesome that NO ONE KNOWS what lies right around the corner. It
> MIGHT be something TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE yet TRUE NONETHELESS.

We found each other after giving up totally on ever finding ANYONE. And
that's my advice to anyone who is also looking for that True Yeti Mate
and can't seem to find her--GIVE UP, and "go down with the ship," and
Dobbs will make sure you AND your one-and-only both wash up marooned
together on a romantic tropical island with a small crowd of natives
that will worship you both as gods. Figuratively speaking, that is.

> The "slave" part didn't come with the package I got, though... do you
> have to pay extra for that?

Nah, it's a simple two-part process: Find someone who worships you and
swears they'll do anything you want, and then MAKE THEM PROVE IT. In
our case, it so happened that I had written a "want ad" looking for the
kind of kinky partner I wanted. SHE read it and found that was EXACTLY
what she wanted, too. The rest is, well, fun and games.

> We figured out too late that the Electro-Stimulo-Wristbands screw up
> the walkie talkies if they're on the same hand that you're holding the
> transmitter in. They mess up some cell phones too. And pacemakers. We
> found out a little late about that, too. (Nobody you know.)

Hmm, it didn't work in either hand, but it DID start working, I guess,
when I took my ESW *off*. HMM. Oh well, nobody needed me to be on the
radio this time. But maybe we should pick a channel for "wireless
Wotanning" or just gossiping like here or on IRC. I'd record that.

Her Ladyship Lilith

----------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Rabbi Jacklyn Hyde" <rabbs@subgenius.com>

My favorite part came two days later when I got to sign the official
documents. It was such fun to officially FUCK THE CONSPIRACY with Lilith's
unwanted dick!!! However, that wedding was definitely the most fun of the
ones I've been in.
By the way, I know it was something borrowed, Lil, but keep the hemetite
bracelet with my love.

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Original file name: BummersBeaut-LilV01.txt - converted on Tuesday, 16 July 2002, 14:21