Keeping You Abreast
From my dedication, I should tell you that my wife and I were married at the New York New York Hotel/Casino in Las Vegas, NV. You can still send a gift, if you believe in love! I’ve decided to share the story of how we met. It’s called “I Am A Gay Homosexual.” I will put up some pictures from my marriage proposal, but I want you to fucking buy the print edition and I’m going to use every means at my disposal.Since the first issue lots of interesting things have happened related to the stories in NegCap #1, so I’d like to bring you up to date, because I’m interested. Fuck what you want, this is my zine, baby. I will be so kind as to give you the updates in an order similar to how they appeared in NC1.
My heroes at Adbusters (“Take My Word For It”) loved my zine and asked me to recreate the inside back cover (“Sosumi”) for them in color. I’m not sure when it will run, but they assure me it will. It’s like being called up to the majors when you play in little league, I swear. Getting a nice letter from them made my whole week. I sent a copy of my zine to Ron Rocheleau, the guy who does Concrete TV, my favorite public access show in the world. He and I have since become friends and I plan on playing cards with him soon. In addition, I discovered that my favorite TV Food Network guy has his own web site that is pretty goddamn cool at. Click here to check it out!
From the “Manifesto,” I should tell you that I’ve totally abandoned Tekken 2. My friend Jill was kind enough to send me an advance copy of Tekken 3, which is, without a doubt, the best game I have ever seen. I also learned recently that there is an anime movie based on Tekken that is out in Japan and is currently being translated for the American market. I’m moist just thinking about it. At this point I insist that you stop reading right now and go buy a PlayStation and Tekken 3. Really. I’ll wait right here.
In the manifesto (and in “Lit. Majors Can Kiss My Ass”) I said things like, “No one gives a shit about me or anything I’ve ever written.” Thanks to you, my loyal reader, there are actually at least nine people who do give a shit about things I’ve written and eagerly anticipate anything I may write in the future. I should buy you all a drink, or some E. I also said that everything would not be spelled out for you, but I’d like to amend that statement to “some things will not be spelled out for you.” I don’t want to be obscure and I don’t want to deliberately confuse anyone. I think one of the things that’s interesting about the zine and my writing is that I am always terribly aware of the “I” in everything. That’s why I like fiction, because I can construct something elaborate and then remove myself from it entirely. Or, I can skillfully put myself in it and then through talent and misdirection make you think I’m not in it. Anyway, the point is that I will try to be as clear as possible, but there are some things I will leave open to interpretation. Just as an example, all the layouts in NC1 actually meant something symbolic. The straight line over the manifesto was an ode to that line from Star Trek: First Contact where Picard says, “The line must be drawn here!” The oval over “Let Me Warn You” was meant to be a pill, meaning this lesson would be a hard pill to swallow. The title of “Lit. Majors Can Kiss My Ass” is deliberately designed to look like two eyes and a smile, because I was smirking as I wrote it, because, in fact, I have a BA in Literature and it was obviously my major.
After I’d gone to press with NegCap #1 I heard David Spade on the Howard Stern Show and he did a couple of great “Porno Movie Name Games.” I’ll give him credit for both of them: Terms of Endearment becomes Terms of Enrearment and Schindler’s List becomes Schindler’s Fist. In addition, Storefront Hitchcock, the Robyn Hitchcock concert movie directed by Jonathan Demme is out on DVD and the soundtrack is available in three different versions, CD, cassette and LP, each with a different track listing.
My friend Peter saw the junkie (“My Best Friend Is A Junkie!”) in NYC two days after Christmas 1997. According to Peter, X looked fine and was on a pay phone when they saw each other. They spoke briefly and Peter said he was glad when X said, “Happy New Year,” excusing him from more conversation. Pete said he saw X again a few months later and X looked healthy and happy, so perhaps my wish has come true. Even though he was a tremendous disappointment to me as a person, I never wished him harm. I have fond memories of our friendship and I miss him sometimes.
Because of the structure of my drug story I wasn’t able to discuss Special K, which is the street name for Ketamine, an animal tranquilizer used as a drug by idiots like me. I’ve decided to tell that story in my next issue because my wife and I are going to honeymoon for two weeks in London and Amsterdam so we can get our fill of accents and illicit substances, respectively. We plan on doing lots of stuff while there, so the story will be contained in “Lost in the K-Hole,” coming in NegCap #3.
Last time I told you how “I Enjoy Being A Girl” and it’s still true. I should have mentioned that CrOWley and Fozz both live with the junkie because sometimes we would allow some of our monkeys to visit with each other for extended periods of time. In addition, I have to mention that I wanted to get Fozz’s burn fixed and whenever I would visit the junkie I would throw a few bucks into a bucket that Fozz had. There is a lovely place here in NYC called the NY Doll Hospital (est. 1900) that repairs and restores monkeys and we always promised Fozz that once he had enough money we’d get his burn fixed. Last time I saw Fozz he had $35 and was wearing a red felt fez. Hey, junkie, if you’re reading this, please get Fozz fixed and tell t., Ms. Bunnie, Norm, Fozz, Odie, CrOWley and the others that I miss them and wish them well. Lurky says hello, though he was very angry at you for a long time for disappointing me, he says you’re forgiven. You know how good that is, though. If he ever sees you he’ll probably give you a hug and then kick you in the shins. Oh, well.
From “Lit. Majors Can Kiss My Ass,” here’s a story about my friend Greg Rail.
As for “How To Tell If It Is Time To Get Married” I took the quiz and decided it was time. Besides, My wife hates Barbra Streisand and Glenn Close and would never stand for a twin bed. She also thinks that my zine/haircut/friends/lifestyle are cool, so there. If you want to see some of our wedding pictures, you are starting to creep me out.
From “More Savant Than Idiot,” I should tell you that the writers and the host have returned to stand-up comedy in NYC and I actually saw the guy that played the Brain sitting next to me in a comedy club one night. If you liked the show, one of the many prizes in this issue’s contest (which is closed, sorry!) is a tape of my entire run on the show, so if you want to see me live on tape, enter the contest! In addition, Joel Stein, the other contestant that I liked so much, now writes for Time magazine and the LA Times. Now that’s progress. Way to sell out, Joel!
With regards to “Just To Prove A Point,” (the thing with my picture) it was done for one simple reason. I had recently read Socially Fucking Retarded (great title, by the way) that was about the Killzine tour. I would say that 95% of the zinesters pictured were hideous human trainwrecks who never show pictures of themselves for a good reason. I just wanted people to know that I’m angry because I’m angry, not because I’m ugly. I have a very normal social life, a few close friends and do the zine because I have lots to say—not because I’m a lonely shut-in living in someone’s basement. In addition, I entered the Royal Fest (which is why some mistakes got in—I rushed it to the printer so I could enter) and won Best New Zine. The reason I mention it is that most of the people there, whether speakers or just in the audience, were fugly, slow and painfully sad. I am one of them because I do a zine, not because I live under a bridge.
As for Priscilla (“My Life as a Pedophile...”), I don’t think she has any interest in writing for the zine at this time because she isn’t all that confident and I will respect her wishes. I talk to her online sometimes and she’s very excited about my work, which is cool. I have a few pictures of her, but I refuse to run any because I don’t want anyone to bother her. She’s a sweetie and I’m glad I know her. She also told me that Jason, the asshole I spent all that time fucking with, has decided to take some courses at a community college.
Until recently I was still getting some interesting e-mail from people who want to bang Anastasia (my hot chick identity which is on the right, unless you’re one of those people who pretends to have dyslexia, in which case I cannot guarantee which side it’s on), including a picture and letter from “The Pali,” who is a creepy, greasy, freaky-looking mutant who is in a band. I asked for a picture and I got one of him and his devil dog and another of him fondling some skanky chicks. He has a tattoo of a snake’s head all over his hairy, vile chest. It was because of him and his letters that I decided I’d had enough of all the losers so I finally canceled the account. I’m still on AOL, but it’s on my brother’s account and I hardly ever use it. So, your chances of banging this hot chick are about slim to none and slim left town. Her real name is Cheryl and I’ve had sex with her a hundred times.
I also got a letter from “Boodak,” a hot little poetess, which I’ll run without corrections of any kind:
Hi ana I am a poet and I write very sexual erotic poems, and they may make you very wet. However there in good taste, they will however have you touching yourself, If you would like one e-mail me and let me know. I am a female.
Signed, Your fantacy poet
You wish I was making this up, don’t you? Of course, I had to have her poem. She is actually pretty talented. Bwa ha hahaha!
A poem for ana so sweet, so sexy and ready to eat. As you sit on my bed we press together our lips, as you pull me closer on to your hips. I unbutton your top and kiss your breast, as you beg me to hurry and give you the rest as I undo your belt and drop your jeans, your pussy
is on fire it seems. as you take my head and direct it down to your box, you kick as squirm and off fall your sox. this pussy so sweet the taste so tender as you lay there helpless reader to surrender. As my tongue goes deep into you clit, you scream and scream please dont quit. Then all of a sudden you yell as I want to do the same as you shake all over oh my god you just came.
by Boodak@aol.com
(reprinted as a mockery, without permission)
She’s right, I’m touching myself again right now.
I got two of the stupidest letters I have ever seen in my entire life from a mutant named Mike. (If you don’t believe this guy is for real, I encourage all of you to write to any of these people yourself and decide on your own. I use everyone’s real screenname and all my claims are open to your scrutiny because I’m psychotically honest.) His screenname is “GMan5511” and he is not kidding when he says he’s not that attractive. The best way to read this is to just sound out the words, figure out what they sound like, and go from there. The context may help in some cases, but mostly it will confuse you. Here’s the first one:
hi how said thaat u do not have breteir eyes than kliobatra and your eye shadwos dezain to fit around your beautiful eyes iam mike iam not all that atractive but i cant help looking at your pic and admair your beauty u are verey sexsy ladie as far as man any man wish is to be next to u and as far as me i love to be aqll around u dreaming in your eyes and amink to satsfay u and hold your hands and feel the sftnis in the i love to heir from u and get to know u
-mike
Well, just like you I had to see more. I wrote back saying that I wasn’t shallow and that I really like a guy who is sweet and honest, like my man Mike. He wrote again... Damn, the spellchecker hates him.
hallo and how is your day i hope it is wendarfull i was thinking of u when i reseved your IM . IAM FROM nj Ibeen heir for the past 23 years i came from jrusalem and thaT is wear i was born i am devorced no kids life it has been verey rewarding to me i did not get to finsh my school but iwas luckey busniss man i did verey will for my selfe in life wher iam comfrtable i love pepol ilike fishing travling ihave been in lots of places in the world ilike to make my ladie feel verey spcail and wanted iam romantic in my way s ilike the old fashein ways iam 39 years old time flays with out u relaising it flaing if u like to call me my NO telephon NO IS 973 472 0309 all thoht ilike to be the gantil man and call u if u like to give me your no pl im me or we can chat i mait be in line to night after 11 pm with all my best wishis i wish u will and best of luck pl never maind my spling it is extremly bad
-mike
I swear on my own eyes, on the lives of everyone I love, that this has been cut and pasted directly from his letter. I honestly have no fucking idea how it is that this man functions in society. He has AOL for fuck’s sake! Not only that, but he owns his own business! Thanks are due to Steve Case, king of the assholes and CEO of AOL, for making the internet accessible to Mike, we all needed him! I’m going to leave his phone number in because I am a prick. I guess the only things not surprising are that 1) he’s from New Jersey and 2) he really thinks that mentioning this state will improve his chances of getting a date. Don’t think that he knows I’m in NYC, either, because according to my profile I live in Hawaii! I mean, do you think he can even read a sign? Of course, my favorite line is “Never maind my spling it is extremly bad” because never before has anyone been so right about anything.
I also want to tell you that my friend Howard Miller of the excellent zine Travelling Shoes analyzed the letter and Arabic writing on the wall and came to a few conclusions. One, Mike’s real name is probably Mohammed, but he’s Americanized as best he can. Two, the writing on the wall is from the Koran and is something banal. Three, it is common for people from the Middle East to substitute “b” for “p” because they have no such letter, so “breiter” is not “brighter” as I thought, but more likely “prettier,” which my man Mike tried his best to spell phonetically. Thanks, Howard! And you thought that Ph.D. work at Yale was all for nothing!
Nici Sterling, my porn star pal, disappeared without a trace. Her AOL account was canceled and all of my attempts to contact her again failed miserably. She does have her own web site at www.nicisterling.com but you have to pay for the good stuff. [Editor's note: Nici retired from porn and while I am sure you could find some of her old scenes online, if she was older than me back then, she's aged out of the fuckable range for most of you.]
In the “Eighth and Ninth Circles of Hell” I attacked a lot of fuckwit douchebag cocksuckers who deserved it. Luckily for all of us, Cybill’s been canceled, which puts Christine “Cunt” Baranski out of work for a little while, but I have some other news. I really like the TV show Law & Order (see “The Profaci Game,” pg. 30 of the print edition), and I realized that one of the many reasons I hate Christine is that she’s played a cunt lawyer on that show a few times. In addition, her husband is a bad actor who’s been on Law & Order as a homeless, schizophrenic loser called “Lemonhead.” Sometimes dreams do come true.
It’s been wonderful seeing Microsoft getting hassled by the Feds and the individual states. Also, butt nugget Bill Gates lost a few billion dollars when the stock market took a big hit and he is still hideously ugly. I wanted to share a hilarious video of Bill Gates from olden times, showing off his new hardware in the video below. Bill Maher’s ratings continue to slide and trust me when I tell you that I will easily outlast his show with this zine. Fuck you, Bill Maher!
In my review section of cover albums (“Cover This”) I reviewed most of what I had. Since then I’ve decided that covers could be my “thing” and I’ll post reviews of cover and tribute CDs as I get them, but only on my web site. In print, I would prefer to break new ground. On the web, everything old is new again, but they don’t call it recycling, it’s called “repurposing content.” The jews weren’t thrown into ovens at Dachau, they were “re-heated.”
In “How to Cope With Assholes” I talked about a few methods for pissing off bitches who like to wear dead animals and I actually thought of the best method ever, by chance, this past winter. I was walking behind this disturbingly ugly, fat, old woman with long nails, a bad wig, a cloud of perfume around her and the skinned corpses of fifty small animals draped over her scaly skin. At the time I was enjoying a few pieces of gum and I realized that I could spit my gum right into her fur and by the time she noticed it, the gum would be well entrenched. So I wound up, told my wife to watch and then I spit this huge wad of red gum right into the back of her coat, where it stuck to the fur. I hope I ruined the coat for her or cost her a lot of time and trouble getting the gum out.
As for “Same Bat Time...” I have decided that some stories will have to wait for the next issue and some will appear in this one, though possibly in a different form than I anticipated. That’s how the world works-sometimes you get what you expect, sometimes you get something better. Be glad I’m the latter, sweetie. So, here’s what I have for the following promised stories. “How Disney Ruined Winnie the Pooh” just has a title because I was unmotivated to do all of the research. The working title is “Defrost Dead Disney So He Can Suck My Dick,” but I need to broaden the scope beyond Pooh. That’s coming next time.
I had intended to do a photo essay about combovers, but to be honest, it’s not that great. Just imagine a bunch of pictures of bad combovers and rugs with the title, “You’re Not Fooling Anyone, Baldy” across the top in a serif font and there, I’m off the hook. “Psychotic Euphemisms for Sex” got dropped ‘cause I only had three: parking the pink mustang down a sidestreet, taming the wombat and my wife’s current favorite, “unleashing the manimal while letting loose the wolf pack.” The reviews of bootleg and illegal CDs got bumped in favor of “The Flicker of the Idiot Box” which will be continued in the next issue. People (especially me) enjoy reading reviews if they do two things: tell us about something we don’t know about and give us a funny opinion of that thing. I can always do that, so the subject really shouldn’t matter. This issue it’s mostly about weird videos and next time it’ll mostly be about music videos. “Pile on the Rejection” has been put off because I’m not sure what to do. I mean, I’ve got literally dozens of rejection letters from all kinds of people but I’m not sure how I should frame them, so until I get a good idea, you’ll just have to imagine it.
I’ve decided to combine the “useless information trapped in my head” and the new contest to make “Keeping It Hard For An Hour.” [The contest is now closed, sorry!] I’ve decided against zine parodies because there are so few zines that are both good and original and I’d like to be more than just another zine so the only zine I’ll parody in these pages is mine. If I’m to compete with regular magazines and other zines, I’m going to play to win. I will, however, offer insight and criticism of zines on my web pages, where the reviews will endure and get a wider audience. It’s just that there are already plenty of great zine review zines out there and I’ll leave them to their work. It would also be much appreciated if any zine review zines would stay out of wishing cancer on people because that’s my area of expertise, kids. I was going to do a story about my new job, but I’ve since lost it. Maybe next time. It looks like I may have something lined up, but I won’t jinx it. (As a brief update, I did get this job but couldn’t keep it for a number of reasons. I’ve since gotten a new job, but I still have big plans for your money so please send some in today.)
My tribute to Bill Hicks will be coming next issue but was postponed for a good reason: I’ve decided to do an overview of all the different Bill Hicks products and merchandise that you can get for yourself and there are a few I’m waiting to get so I can include them. I’ve seen lots of Bill Hicks’s material and some of it isn’t all that great, so I want to make sure I point people toward his best work, so he can be remembered as he should be remembered: as a prophet who was taken from this world too soon.
From “Sosumi” I’d also like to mention that Ronald McDonald, the child molester from Washington state, was convicted of molesting kids and is now in jail. Now if only we could get the fucking clown McDonald in jail then he’d know what meat really is. And now, let’s move on to something new, shall we?
Web Bonus Info:
To make things easier, I’ve put the original subject and then the update in the order they appear above.Tekken and the PlayStation. I now have a PS2 and Tekken Tag Tournament to play. I also recently got Tekken 5, which is a major improvement to an already amazing game. I think I still look like Jin Kazama and T5 has a new mini-game called Devil Within starring Jin. He is also one of the bosses and when you fight him, he looks so cool. He has a tattoo of a tree like Brother Justin in Carnivale, he has giant horns and huge black wings like a devil.
My Writing and Other People. My writing has actually been well-received wherever it goes, which is very gratifying to me. In the last year I have been asked to read in public and my work has been stolen by other sites, quoted in blogs, used as reference in school papers, reviewed by many, sold all over the world and the best part is that people are still discovering stuff I wrote many years ago thanks to this site.
The Junkie. In July 2004 I saw the Junkie on the street near my office and he ran away from me. I saw him again a few weeks later and actually tried to talk to him, but he ignored me. I had a launch party in September and the Junkie e-mailed me anonymously to ask for an invite. He came to the party for a little while and we reconnected for a while. I wrote a story about the return of the Junkie but after a while I started to think that maybe the story wasn't that interesting since it only got sadder and sadder. I really would not be surprised if he was dead and I can sincerely say that I don't care anymore. There are few happy endings for junkies, except the ones they give to creepy perverts.
Drugs. I wrote “Lost in the K-Hole” as promised, and read a special updated version of it at Pianos, a bar in Manhattan. Since then, I have stopped doing everything except weed, and now I only do that occasionally. And by occasionally I mean only on days ending in “y.” There are a number of reasons for the change, but mostly it’s because I need to be alive as long as possible to take care of my wife and kids. I haven't smoked anything in a long time so I just stick to vaping flower now that it's legal in most places.
“I Enjoy Being A Girl.” I still have monkeys and Lurky, Edward, Bok Choy, Tree-Fitty Monster, Herbie and Yukon Cornelius still live in my room. A few monkeys are now living in my son’s room any others are in storage until we have more space.
“Lit. Majors Can Kiss My Ass” and "Greg Rail is My Friend." My friend Greg died when I was in college and I think of him from time to time.
“How To Tell If It Is Time To Get Married.” Still married to the same women, now with three kids, more than 24 years later, so I think I chose wisely.
“More Savant Than Idiot.” The host, Greg Fitzsimmons has gone on to a middling career as a stand-up comic and even put out an album. My fellow contestant Joel Stein became a columnist for Time magazine, hosted a night of his own programming on Trio and has become one of those talking heads on VH1 specials that no one knows. Honestly, the only person who has gone on to much better things was the woman who was hired to warm up the crowd. If you’ve ever been to a TV show, you know that someone always comes out to hype up the people before the taping. For us, it was an unknown comedian named Wanda Sykes, who got her own Fox show (which was quickly canceled) then another show on Comedy Central (also canceled) but she does get a lot of supporting roles as the sassy black woman and her comedy specials are HILARIOUS. As for me, I’ve never tried out for another game show, though I really think I would do well at Jeopardy!
“My Life as a Pedophile.” Priscilla, my underage penpal, is now legal in all 50 states. She is attending college somewhere in Hawaii and I hope that she is doing well. I haven’t heard from her in a very long time, but that’s fine with me. She’s a good kid and I wish her well.