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BILL GATES IS NOT WEALTHY
Recently I had to blow my nose. I was cracking open one of those
new Kleenex ColdCare tissue boxes, when I thought, ÒGosh, this is sort of
luxurious, the way they make you peel back the top. It used to be, these
people made a product entirely of paper. Paper box, paper kleenex inside.
I used to rip those boxes open and think nothing of it. As if I was, you
know, entitled to endless shrinkwrapped boxes of paper kleenex. For
nothing. Now theyÕve got me peeling back Ôluxury seals,Õ and pulling out
menthol-impregnated tissues. As if IÕm not entitled. As if IÕm supposed
to actually feel grateful for having a damn box of kleenex.Ó
Not that I donÕt enjoy the new menthol-impregnated tissues, of
course. TheyÕre quite excellent. Yesterday, my nose ran all day. Usually,
using paper kleenex in paper boxes, my nose would have been raw by the
end of the day. But not with new menthol-impregnated Kleenex! I used a
whole box of those, in one day, and at the end of the day my nose still felt
fine and dandy.
Which is why I live again, to blow another day. (Usually, on the
second day of a cold, my nose hurts too much to blow it anymore. Even
though I still need to.)
So, with my new, blow-able nose, I fortuitously read The Economist,
September 20, 1997, pg. 18. It was the article titled, ÒNot this again,
please.Ó And it got me to thinking, not about America and Japan, but about
Bill Gates. And us.
As you know, Bill Gates is a human being. I donÕt know how tall he
is. But, taking into consideration all his nerdy characteristics, I think the
following thumbnail weights and measures can be roughly estimated. HeÕs
probably about 5Õ 8Ó. He probably weighs, oh... (heÕs older now, and
heavier...), 125 lbs. So, you know, heÕs a typical computer nerd. Short, and
a 125 lb. weakling. HeÕd die in a boxing match against Tyson while he was
still trying to climb over the ropes around the boxing ring to get into it.
Tyson would eat well that day.
However, Bill Gates, the man, has managed to sell to us 40 billion
dollars more stuff than we have managed to sell to him. Think about that.
Take the box of mentholated Kleenex. Somebody managed to make that and
sell that to me. But did I sell anything to him? I doubt it. So he, in
essence, gave me something (a box of kleenex). And I, holy joe, gave him
nothing back. Not really. Oh, sure, you may say,
ÒWell, you paid him $1.99, didnÕt you?Ó (Plus tax). Sure I did. But I
didnÕt really make anything and actually sell it back to the kleenex man.
Jupiter moved between Saturn and trees grew and one way or another
$1.99 wound up in my pocket just when I was looking to blow my nose. So
the kleenex man, in essence, gave me a box of mentholated kleenex. And I
told him, in essence, ÒDonÕt worry. Someday IÕll sell you something back.Ó
But I didnÕt have anything. So instead I gave him some coins, in the form
of a sort of I.O.U. The coins in essence mean ÔI owe the kleenex man $1.99
worth of stuff.Õ
DonÕt worry. Someday IÕll think of something and sell it back to the
kleenex man. In the meantime, he can keep my I.O.U., in the form of $1.99.
He can even trade it around. You know, if he needs some Pepto-Bismol, the
Kleenex man can give the Pepto-Bismol man my I.O.U. and say, ÒHereÕs holy
joeÕs I.O.U.Ó
So letÕs think about Bill Gates again. Bill Gates, the man, has sold us
40 billion dollars more worth of stuff than we, as a society, have managed
to sell him. Hence, it can be said, ÔBill Gates is worth 40 billion dollars.Õ
But what does Bill Gates really have? He has 40 billion dollars -- in
I.O.U.s!
As soon as we manage to sell Bill Gates 40 billion dollars worth of
stuff, how much ÔmoneyÕ do you think Bill Gates will then have?
Zero. Bill Gates will be worth nothing, because he bought 40 billion
dollars worth of stuff from us.
Recently a woman (naturally) from the Clinton Administration was
on T.V. And they asked her about Bill Gates. And she looked slightly
worried, in an administrative sort of way, and she said, on behalf of the
Clinton Administration, ÒWell, we sure would like to know what heÕs going
to do with all that money.Ó
(Hopefully give it to me.)
But think of it. The Clinton Administration is worried about what
Bill Gates is going to do with all his ÔmoneyÕ. Bill Gates has no money! He
just has a fistful of I.O.U.s from the whole fucking planet! Do you think
there is any possible way we could manage to sell Bill Gates 40 billion
dollars worth of stuff before he dies? Heck no! Hence, Bill Gates is
obviously going to die a poor, groaning man, cheated by earth. He will have
sold us 40 billion dollars worth of stuff we needed. But, in the end, we
had nothing to sell him. So he died ÔrichÕ. In other words, he died with his
hands full of I.O.U.s from lots of other people.
So much for ÔrichÕ and ÔpoorÕ.
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Sponsored by: JOE CAMEL
Issue No. 296
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Pussy Playland
Chapter Four
Her cheeks were wet with my dew. She was slathered in cream. I
gazed into her eyes and she into mine. Our noses touched. We kissed,
lightly, like two warriors from different tribes contemplating peace.
ÒHow do you feel, honey?Ó Sherry asked me.
ÒFull,Ó I answered. ÒIn my butt.Ó My voice was tremulous from my
exertions underneath Jeff. She giggled. Jeff rose and walked out to the
drain and relieved himself. We could hear his pee hitting the drain,
flowing, gurgling down. ÒI think little boys used to be trapped against
this wall by their cocks,Ó I mused to Sherry. My eyes looked at the cock
ring in front of my pillow. On either side of it the wall was recessed. Had
little boys knelt here, in front of the ring, their knees pressing into the
wall on either side of it, and felt a master ring and lock their penises? I
shivered. Now I was a victim too. Sherry caressed my reamed hole and
fingered within it. I felt opened back there, where I was supposed to poop
things out but had instead let Jeff ram himself into me. I could feel his
sperm up inside me. Slowly it was starting to trickle and run down from
the deep place heÕd shot it to the opening of my anal hole. Sherry kissed
me again.
ÒWeÕve got much more to do, but now itÕs time for a little break,Ó
she said. ÒA little sleep, a wash, a midnight breakfast. Come on. LetÕs go
upstairs and relax awhile.Ó
I stirred. I found I couldnÕt move my body. It had been hammered for
so long by Jeff that it just wanted to lay there forever. Sherry stood up.
Her large breasts bounced on her chest. Her nipples were still hard, as if
she wanted more. I did not want any more. I was so thoroughly fucked I
felt like a rag doll, lying there. Jeff had pounded my anus until IÕd cried.
Sherry had licked at my clit as if I were a meal and my slit was her first
dinner after a hunger strike. She bent down, her bosoms hanging down as
she bent low to retrieve me. They looked like they belonged at a dairy
farm, full and heavy and stiff nippled. Sherry took my arm and pulled.
ÒCome on, itÕs just a fucking you got. You act as if youÕve been
executed!Ó she teased me.
ÒMy bottom feels like its been executed,Ó I said. It was striped and
sore from being hit by JeffÕs whip.
ÒWhat do you think mine feels like?Ó Sherry asked. She tugged on my
arm again and I let her pull me, not without effort, to my knees. My head
felt a little dizzy from all the champagne IÕd drunk. Is that what had
finally convinced me to try sliding down a cream-covered mat on a
pillow? Such a stupid thing! Yet IÕd almost won. It would have been so
fun to beat Sherry in her own home in front of her own husband. I felt a
sudden, desperate need to have a big man of my own like she did. Not some
guy on the beach, sole owner of a surfboard. But a man who had an
important job and a nice home out in the canyons, or up on the hilltops,
who could buy me nice things and spoil me. It beat sitting at home
listening to my mom insist on two hours of homework a night. What did
trigonometry have to do with men? Or boys, for that matter? Who cared
about all those unkewl equations? There was only one measurement that
mattered.
Jeff came bobbing back up to us. His cock was still nicely elongated,
although heÕd spent his strength up inside my tight teenage bottom. His
balls jangled underneath him, between his powerful thighs, like church
bells. They were empty at the moment, but I had little doubt theyÕd refill
again soon. And they were empty because... it took my breath away!
Because heÕd worked and labored and striven to give me his all. And he
had. I now held his strength within me. What if heÕd shot in my belly? I
couldnÕt remember the last time IÕd taken a pill. My mom didnÕt like me
having them.
I looked up at Jeff. HeÕd been so very hard. (And that, wouldnÕt you
know, is when men try to get themselves up inside us, inside our smallest,
tightest, most forbidden places. When theyÕre hard! Not when theyÕre soft.
Men are not polite like we girls are. They wait till theyÕre huge and hard
and absolutely inflexible and then they say, Òexcuse me, little miss, but
IÕm really horny and IÕm just going to HAVE to stick this big thing of mine
in you. Sorry for the inconvenience, of course, but youÕre just going to
have to take me and I canÕt stand having this big thing sticking out in front
of me anymore. You see, I canÕt get my pants on and its just driving me
crazy. Maybe if you werenÕt so young and cute and innocent, or werenÕt
wearing sexy clothes... So you see, my dear, itÕs all your fault. Now do
please spread for me or IÕll make it very difficult for you.Ó And thatÕs if
theyÕre Ônice.Õ If theyÕre mean you donÕt even know what hits you. They
just Ôtake command,Õ as men like to do. And you receive them.
And, looking up at Jeff, I wanted to receive him again. He grinned
possessively at me. He liked seeing me wobbling on my knees, my
bottomhole filled up with his seed, having it actually leak out of me and
run down the backs of my thighs, seeing the marks where heÕd made me
feel his whip. And, strangely, I liked being watched by him, loved, spoilt.
Sherry ran her hand through my hair and tousled it, like a man might tousle
the hair of a little child whose fallen, as if to say, Ôthere, itÕs not so bad.
It happens to everyone. Now get up and on with your life.Õ
MUSIC REVIEWS
by holy joe
American Thighs, Veruca Salt. Tape, CD.
Review: Perhaps one cannot put new wine into old bottles, for fear
of breaking the skins, but I can certainly re-review an album, if I really
like it, canÕt I?
And that album is American Thighs, by Veruca Salt. Specifically, it
is Side One. (I never thought much of Side Two). (As you can see, humble
holy joe here is having to review the cassette tape version of this album.
I still canÕt afford a CD Player, despite my year and a half drive to solicit
donations for my ÔHoly Joe Freedom, Defense, and Free CD Player Legal
FundÕ. Even Bill Clinton seems to get more donations than I do.)
Be that as it may, you will be interested to know (I hope!) that I still
have not bought Veruca SaltÕs new album. Their first video from it,
ÒVolcano Girls,Ó was a piece of shit, in my opinion, except for the brief
ÒSeetherÓ part. Perhaps the girls are now just too mature. (Always the
kiss of death with me.) (You didnÕt read that, feminists.) In any event, it
is Side One of the aforementioned album that I worship.
Only three songs are truly great on this album. The first, second,
and third: ÒGet back,Ó something that begins with driving and raining and
winds into the apparent loss of a girlÕs virginity. ÒAll hail me,Ó a song
apparently about a girl who let her boyfriend down by having an abortion,
and her mother down by getting pregnant. And the famous, MTV Ôbuzz cutÕ
ÒSeether,Ó featuring some girl and her cat. (Unless you factor in the
ÒVolcano GirlsÓ explanation on their new album.)
The first three songs (above) are hard-driving rock and roll. Lots of
feedback, a tune (VERY important), and a sufficient amount of Ôfuck youÕ
vocals to make each song satisfying.
Next, three more songs. These are reflective songs. However, to
describe them as ÔsoftÕ would be to describe a jet aircraft landing as soft.
ThereÕs lots of feedback. Each song has a tune. And there are passionate
vocals. The songs are: ÒSpiderman Ô79,Ó (very good, about a girl whoÕs
life has been changed by getting pregnant. This time sheÕs happy about it,
even if it did wreck all her plans.) ÒForsythia,Ó (the weakest song on Side
One, but still good, especially if you listen to it over and over. A song,
apparently, about how to mind the health of your newborn.) Finally, the
last song is the most triumphant. ItÕs ÒWolf,Ó and itÕs apparently about
two girls, both of whom lost their virginity over the summer. Again, I fit
it into the ÔsoftÕ category, but itÕs still got lots of hard-rock elements.
All six of these songs are ÔgirlishÕ in nature. If you donÕt like
hearing untrained young girlsÕ voices, donÕt bother buying this album. It
is, as with most of rock nÕ roll, the lack of perfection in the singing voice
that gives a song its unique appeal. I also note some very intriguing ÔLita
Ford-typeÕ guitar work, especially in the albumÕs first song.
And, a confession: I usually only like the first, nationally-
distributed album of a new group. (Plus their very first MTV-circulated
video.) After that, most groups seem to have said everything important
they really need to say. Follow-on albums can tend to have the ring of
Ôwell, letÕs crank something more out while weÕre still hot.Õ Hence, Bush
releasing their second album. Gavin (of Bush) frankly admitted that their
second album Òcontains stuff we didnÕt have room for in the first album.Ó
(No wonder all the songs IÕve heard from that album sound like leftovers.)
(I havenÕt bought their second album, based on the so-so videos theyÕve
released.)
Bush is perhaps a perfect example. LetÕs take their first three
videos, from their second album. The videos are lavish. I donÕt like lavish
videos. I like videos that cost $5,000 to make. The first ÒOffspringÓ
video, the first ÒSmashing PumpkinsÓ video, the first ÒVeruca SaltÓ video.
Those were all truly great videos, the first two, at least, the two best
videos IÕve ever seen on MTV. Bush, on the other hand, has switched to Ôbig
time rock group videos.Õ The thing looks like a small movie. All the big
groups do this, and mostly produce uninspired videos. Take the group
ÒAerosmith.Ó My God! All their videos look alike! Sure, each of their
videos contains different action, and a different theme. But, to me, itÕs
all the same crap. The lead singer screams unpassionate nonsense in your
face. The lead guitarist endlessly strives to look cool.
Recently I saw ÒAerosmithÓ interviewed on the PBS television show
ÔCharlie Rose.Õ Perhaps youÕre used to quickie two-minute interviews on
Entertainment Tonight. Forget Ôem. If you want to see a long, deep,
involved, 20 minute interview, digging into the very root of ÒAerosmith,Ó
watch the episode of Charlie Rose that featured them. I hate
ÒAerosmithÕsÓ songs. (Except for ÒDream On,Ó from the 1970Õs.) But the
lead singer and the lead guitarist are very interesting people.
Take the lead singer of ÒAerosmith.Ó (Sorry, I donÕt know his name.)
He is, in reality, a scared little boy. HeÕs also an extremely nice person.
But youÕd never know that, from watching ÒAerosmithÕsÓ videos. In the
videos, heÕs just some overpaid jerk screaming nothing at all in your face.
And then thereÕs the bandÕs lead guitarist. HeÕs just one more ÔJoe
CoolÕ guy in the videos. Look at me, IÕm cool. You want me, donÕt you,
girls? (Yes, donÕt worry, IÕm sure they all do.) But I liked the lead
guitarist when he was interviewed on Charlie Rose. Sure, his major
occupation in life is to look cool. But I enjoyed hearing him interviewed.
Oh, yes. Have you ever heard of the 1970Õs band, ÒThe RunawaysÓ?
It starred Joan Jett and Lita Ford (among others). All I own from this band
is their ÒBest of the RunawaysÓ album. (Yes, itÕs a wax record. No, I donÕt
have anything to play it on. Hence, IÕm starting, today, the ÔHoly Joe
Freedom, Defense, and Free Phonographic Record Player Legal FundÕ.
Please donate. Then, just for you, (and millions who didnÕt donate) I
promise to write a full review of this 20-year-old album.
AND IN THE END...
UNDERAGE PANTIES !
ÒWow! This girl is hot... precocious [ 16-year-old ] Anna
[Kournikova] has grabbed the headlines... more for her stunning looks and
her figure-hugging outfits than her results.
Ò...[She] usually has a bevy of admirers trailing behind her, and she
might well find it difficult to keep her feet on the ground over the
coming years.Ó
- Mayfair, Volume 32, No. 7, Pgs. 3, 32. (Photos of her bare legged,
white-pantied ass.)
(Of course, I prefer pictures of Andrea DorkinÕs pantied ass. - h.j.)
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
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bullshit posted by right-wing Christians.)
-Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
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- Free plug: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age
statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
- JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
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NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others
copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder.
-END OF 296 EMISSION
ÒMARKET, n. The meeting or congregating together of people for the
purchase and sale of provisions or livestock, publicly exposed, at a
fixed time and place.Ó
- The Oxford English Dictionary