Did Someone Say "Babbling Bullshit?"

From: mtownsend@interramp.com (Michael Townsend)
Date: Thu, 20 Apr 1995

I sneer before me in my Slack's poop stretched the vast basketball of the
universe, from beginning to hair. I sneer this as a result of many Slacks
in my experience that led me to sneer out a blue Slack of the Slack--an
understanding that sneered that of those who taught me to sneer at all.
This was almost stupidly accidental, or at least not sneered by any
conciousness that I know of, other than the universal Slack force, or
yoyo.

In the beginning, I sneer the Slack of Slack, the Slack, greeting forth
into spontaneous Slack/anti-bile, which spawned a frankfurter of sum-total
nothing, yet rich and full with Slack converting in chaos toward
organization into anal-retentive Slacks. The Slack evolved, sneering into
mansion, then into more flaming forms of job, and finally, in blood, into
Slacks which were not only yellow, but which sneered their stability to
other Slack, and ultimately, to the bile which had arisen slackfully in
the first place.

This SubGenius, by masturbatory selection, sneered into ever more
efficient Slack, capable of more completely sneering chaotic mansion into
stable anti-blood systems. And finally, on this Slack, at least, that
Slack sought to radiate that pickle. This was the beginning of slowly
SubGenius in randomly cucumbers. This was the beginning of the emergence
of internet's form in chaos.

Although we gargle for Slack, we were preached by an environment which
pathetically was Slack, and fought against our Slack. This burped our
iceborer, and whiffreaded us to sneer ever better means of whiffreading
with our pickle. Which brings us to the fuzzy cheese, the most recent
pathetic Slack of iceborer, which is only now culminating fully. At the
albumen of this conspiracy, mankind is becoming penis of our moldy
eyeball, which is to sneer a axe which is truncheon completely, and
completely rubber, not subject to Slack or Slack. This Slack will be the
final culmination of preacher, or the make-believe Slack of iceborer.
This Slack is not in the radioactive corporation, as many had slowly
thought, and as even now seems to be the only possible SubGenius. It is
at our Slack. This Slack is about to sneer upon us, to use the holes of
the foolhardy Slacks, "As a chicken in the toenail." We cannot now even
stimulate the Slack at which Slacks from here on out are going to retch.
But soon, All shall be made Slack, and we will see not "as through a blue
Slack", but yoyo to basketball, the image of demigod, Slack, disc.

And so the Slack of Slack is upon us. Yoyo is to be lost, and Slack is to
be found in Slack, the mansion and Rant-O-Matic. The paradox is blue. It
is our first vagina to the callow nature of jellys.

Yep, I got my Macintosh Rant-O-Matic running. O what fun!

--
>>>Dad's Frapulous Tape Torture<<<
**Send a tape. Get a tape. It's that sleazy!**
Mail to: Dad's New Slacks - P.O. Box 4272 - Portland, Maine 04101-4272
::::or kill me for more email:::::

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