From: "kevbob" <>

Rev. Ivan Stang <> wrote in article
> Stang fucks gravel covered man

that guy was that jeff guy with no tent, right?

devo and a bunch of people (it was definitely a group thing, they spent
like half an hour burying him) had a bunch of fun trying to build up enough
weight atop him to stop him breathing.

alas, he sed aftorwerds that he was quite surprised that stang humped him.


From: "kevbob" <>

Rabbi <> wrote in article <>...
> Fucking annoying, more like it. I really have a feeling the reason she
> was wandering around naked is because she was too fucking dumb to
> realize she was only wearing paint. This isn't a catty bitchy thing,
> because I flaunted myself as much as the next big-breasted woman.
> However, there's a point where a cute quirk, like treating a troll like
> the Hope Diamond, becomes REALLY REDUNDANT. Thank you.

i must worship you as an icon of truth.

lesson of life:
the stamina displayed in doing something really dumb can be attributed to
the amount of crack that person is on.

troll-chicky was on a lot of crack.

the middle must come to its end.


From: (Popess Lilith von Fraumench)
On the eve of 23 Jul 1998 20:03:18 GMT, in the Temple of
<6p84u6$>, bellowed forth across
the wasteland:
>In article <01bdb652$99ea8920$070c9ace@ecsis>,
> felt like sharing this:
>>saint andreux <saint@!bugger-off!> wrote in article
>>> The guy with the Viking helmet who slept on the stage
>>> was RevDok Gaddy.
>>a life lesson:
>>if'n you wait long enough, all will be revealed.
>Oh, THAT was Gaddy! Christ, that guy WAS a royal schmuck...

And all of alt.slack--at least those that went to Brushwood this year--finally
agree on something.



From: Sister Decadence <>

kevbob wrote:
> troll-chicky was on a lot of crack.

And here I thought she was just fucking insane.
> --
> the middle must come to its end.


From: (Crazy Bob)

The t'ing about Angel (as such, I gather from picture titles on the
SubSite, was troll-chicky's name) was dat she didn't JUST have a
troll... for a long while she had a 3 Musketeers bar which she held up
in the face of whoever was on stage... at first I thought it was some
kind of inside joke, y'know-- between her and whoever was the first guy
ranting (I forget who it was... Joe Mama?) but she kept DOING it. I'm
surprised her arm didn't get tired eventually.

X-Day memories recently resurfaced (none of which I got on record):

-Rev. Mary Magdalene talking about how she refused to show up in court
for parking tickets, which she got by parking in a restricted parking
lot as an act of civil disobedience (this in response to my tale of
getting pulled over for speeding on the way there... 83 in a 55 zone =
$155 ticket!) This was followed by weird frapped out speculation about
the shifting time/space relationship as X-Day approached, especially
the strange time dilations we were all experiencing.

-Two guys standing up before the ranting officially started on Saturday
and trying to auction off strips of Stang's bubble wrap: "This bubble
wrap -- each bubble FULL OF CHURCH AIR sanctified by STANG himself! --
COULD HAVE BEEN taped to Ivan Stang's CROTCH!" and expecting that this
would make people MORE EAGER to breathe of the bubbles!!!

-Sitting by the fire and listening to the REALLY OLD entirely naked guy
talk about how, in his entire life, nobody had ever sucked his dick.
Naked pagan chicks left and right trying to console him by assuring him
that oral sex "sometimes is just really disappointing."

-The guys passed out around the fire early Saturday morning after a
long night of drinking and frapping, various folks wondering whether or
not they were alive and even walking over to one guy to nudge him with
their foot.

-Walking with David Lynch (who was ranting about how stupid both he and
Dobbs both were) and getting shot at with pink paintballs, all of which
miraculously missed me but splattered Lynch's pants.



From: (Jahweh D. Lynch)

Thus spake Crazy Bob:

>-Walking with David Lynch (who was ranting about how stupid both he and
>Dobbs both were) and getting shot at with pink paintballs, all of which
>miraculously missed me but splattered Lynch's pants.

I tell you, it's great seeing what other people remember happening and the
parts that they remembered that I didn't. I remembered getting hit in the
leg with a pink paintball and ranting about it to anybody who would listen
for the next hour or so, but I didn't remember in the slightest what I was
ranting about at the time. Sometimes I think I oughta start carrying a
shitty portable tape deck around with me so I can find out what the hell I
was talking about. On the eleventh, for instance, I ranted for well around
an hour about W.E.B. DuBois, peanuts, and Fantasy Island, but I can't
remember a fucking thing I actually said.

"Marry a rat or a dog late in life. Avoid monkeys."
- My Chinese Fortune (oh by the way remove whats to email)

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