**************************************************************************** ### # # ### ##### ## # # # ## ## # # ### ##### ## ### ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #### ### # # # # # # # # # ## # #### ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # ### # ## # # # ## ## ## ### # # # # # ### ____________________________________________________________________________ # # ### #### # # #### # # ### #### ##### # # ##### #### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #### ### ### ##### # # #### ##### # # ##### ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # ### ### # # # # #### # # ### # # # ##### ##### #### *****NUMBERS 201 TO 205***********BY DANIEL BOWEN (tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu)***** "Toxic Custard Sells Out" ====== ===== \\ \\ ====== ===== ====== === Toxic Custard \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ Workshop Files \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ ==== ===== \\ \\ \\ Number 201 \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ 1st June 1994 \\ ===== ======== \\ ===== ====== ==== by Daniel Bowen There's a new innovative design in alarm clocks on the market. The Custardmatic 4000 alarm clock. Not only does it have numbers so big and bright that it makes it difficult to get to sleep in the first place, but it also has four modes of alarm, that successively get louder and more vocal, to make sure you get out of bed. 1. The normal beep we all know and love from our current conventional alarm clocks. 2. A few minutes later, the louder beep. 3. Next, the first of the voice circuits gets into gear, angrily demanding that you "Get up! Get up!" 4. The ultimate in waking machines. A rubberised mallet on an arm extends itself from the clock and starts whacking you on the head, while the voice synthesiser shouts "Get up! Get up and get out and earn a living, you lazy git!" The alarm clock is sensor linked to your bed, so it *knows* when you've actually got up. The snooze button is not available on alarm 4, and an optional recording unit is available to allow you to record your mother telling you to wake up. The Custardmatic 4000. Available now. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - DANIEL'S GUIDE TO HOUSE HUNTING First you need to find a house you like. Then keep dreaming, 'cos you'll never be able to afford it. Go to see the bank. Don't plead for mercy. If you plea for mercy, they won't take pity on you, they'll just completely rule you out of a loan. Because anyone who looks pathetic is a bad risk. They'll only lend money to people who don't need it. So take this tip. Go to the bank with a convincing argument. Preferably at least a 12 gauge. Check out the house carefully. Hire someone to check all the structural bits and make sure it's not going to implode or sink into that river next to it, the one that makes it look so picturesque. Make sure you get it in writing that the house is okay. Then, if it isn't, you can sue, and with the payout, buy a better house. Next, you have to keep the price of your prospective house down. The trick is the inspection days. You have to go to every possible inspection. Not to actually look inside the house, but to walk up and down outside with your mates, all dressed as skinheads, shouting "fuckin' hell" a lot. That should scare off the bulk of the other potential buyers. Then the next time, you turn up all in wheelchairs, waving your arms uncontrollably, and screeching "house! House!" That should get rid of the remaining buyers. And meanwhile, the real estate agent and the house owner will be standing there amazed, saying to themselves "I never saw those people around here before..." It also helps if you know people at the newspaper who can "lose" the ad. Get all your friends to be there on auction day, too. The same friends that have grafitied all over the front fence and wall the night before the auction. Just to ensure there's no last minute buyers. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Not only are shampoo manufacturers using more and more ridiculous shaped bottles, but it's got so bad (ie stylish) that you can't balance most of them upside-down when they start running out. Some of the packages are so slick, dynamic that they look like prop buildings from futuristic car ads. It's not just shampoo anymore, either - it's a hair revitalisation experience. And that's why we introduced the Custard Care range of shampoos and conditioners. They help to keep your hair bouncy... beautiful... and lumpy. Available for normal, normal and normal hair types, Custard Care shampoos and conditioners are available now wherever crap products are sold. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The thing about being left-handed is that scissors hate you. Almost all scissors, which look at first glance like placid, inanimate objects, sense that they are being lifted by someone's left hand and entirely cease to work. And when us lefties manage to find a pair of scissors that DOES work, anyone else who picks them up has the nerve to claim they don't work! Well now you can throw those scissors out the window (and hope they land in the head of whoever designed them). Because New Custard Scissors will cut through anything. Paper, iron rods, skin, bone, plastic... they'll cut straight through anything you so much as bring into the same room as your Custard Scissors. Custard Scissors have been available to torturers in all leading fascist dictatorships for many years, but now they're available to the public at a very reasonable price! How much would you expect to pay for these glorious scissors that if dropped will cut their way through your foot? Don't ask -- you also get a complete set of thumbscrews. This genuine ex-KGB stock is just what you need for that annoying little sister. And each thumbscrew comes in its original condition, many with the thumbs still in them! An offer like this can't last, so call now. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - We've all been in the situation. That itch in the very centre of your back, that you just can't quite reach? (At least, not without having your arms surgically stretched). Well itch no more! We now introduce the Custard back-scratching service. Just call 1800-SCRATCH and a special team of well-manicured scratching experts will be despatched to your door, driving at alarming speeds to reach you within a guaranteed time of 8 minutes(*). Hell, you can't even get an ambulance that fast these days. Our expert scratchers will care for your every itch, methodically scratching to your every direction (eg "up a bit! No, down just a tad. Left a little bit. Oh yes, it's there.... oh yeaaaaahhhhh.....") (*) Offer available only in Metropolitan areas within 8 minutes of a Custard Scratching Services depot. Customer pays traffic fines. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Toxic Custard back-issues are still available by ftp... Okay, to be honest, we've got hundreds of the bloody things, rotting away at some ftp site. Please, take them off our hands. Email tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without profit provided no modifications are made. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| I, me, myself alone, am Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| totally responsible for the Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| content of this post. No-one TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| else would admit responsibility Nb. I only throw in words like yeaaaaahhhhh to harass the spelling-checker. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Illegible Toxic Custard" ===||===================|||||==||||===|||||===||||====TOXIC CUSTARD ===||||==||||=||====||=||=========||=||===||=====||===WORKSHOP FILES ===||===||====||====||=||||====||||==||===||==||||====Number 202 ===||===||====||=||=||=||=====||=====||===||=||=======6th June, 1994 ====||===||||==||||||==||=====||||||==|||||==||||||===by Daniel Bowen It makes you think. If doctors' writing is so bad that the chemist has to check your name and address from the prescription... what are the chances that the medicine you're given will be wrong? "Oh, you needed Elzinphatom, not Elbonphateem. Sorry. Elbonphateem is for the treatment of gangrenous piles, actually. Not bronchitis." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This is a plea to any of my relatives who may be reading. (Actually, not many of my relatives do read this drivel, meaning that my standing in the family as a "fine upstanding young man with a promising career etc etc" has not yet been completely shattered. Give it time.) Don't give me any more novels to read. The backlog is getting embarrassing. They pile up in the bookshelf... Okay, I admit it, I'm not a great reader. I've never been a great reader. In school, it may have looked like I was reading "1984", but to tell the truth, I never got past the first sentence. The one about clocks. "Animal Farm" -- no problem. Appealed to my love of small furry animals, probably. (I still deny any accusations of cruelty to these particular creatures. There is no substantial evidence.) It's not that I can't read. I've read for many years. It's just that I have a belief in only reading things that can keep me interested. If a book doesn't have one even mildly interesting thing on each page, then chances are I won't be bothered. It's not like music, which you can just turn on and listen to without too much bother. You can leave it going in the background. Books are *effort*. Maybe I just don't have enough patience. I just can't be bothered to read through 250 pages of narrative to discover that the butler did it. Maybe I'm too much a part of the TV generation. Maybe the whole plot has to be given to me on a 19 inch black-tinted plate with stereo sound. And commercial breaks every five pages. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - So, what did I do on my weekend? Well, here's a clue It's great to chainsaw a chihuahua And to inflict pain on a poodle To make cuts into a kelpie To draw things on your doodle I just love cutting my arms off And flushing them down the bog Then stomping round the garden In big boots, squashing frogs Head butting semi-trailers Run/walking in one shoe And pushing dog owners' noses Into their own dogs' poo These are all things I take part in But the silliest of all the things I do Of all the ways I spend the weekend Is writing this Custard stuff for you - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Have you walked into a darkened room just as the florescent light is coming on? Looks like some sort of bad horror movie, as the light flashes on and off. Actually, once I was lying in bed listening to a thunderstorm. As the lightning flashed, I made out a big darkened silhouette in the corner. Argrghh! Holy shit! Intruder alert! Get the cricket bat! Who was it?! Oh yeah, the hatstand with the old hat on top and the overcoat hanging off it... And once you've calmed down a bit, you're in that limbo situation, not quite asleep, not quite awake. And your body decides to trip over something imaginary. And for a split second, you think you're falling over, and you wake up completely... Actually, I seem to have great problems getting to sleep. I fidget. I toss and turn. And when I eventually fall asleep, I'm in such a position that most of me aches the next morning. Why can't the brain keep an eye on things while I'm tossing and turning, and proclaim "No, don't go to sleep like that, your back will hurt like buggery in the morning". Now that really is a strange expression. "It'll hurt like buggery." I wonder if whoever made it up was speaking from personal experience, or just playing guessing games. Perhaps he got up one day, found himself aching... and thought "I'm going to make up a new expression for pain. Now, what can 'it' hurt like? KFC? 'It hurts like Kentucky Fried Chicken'? Nah, doesn't really work... Chopping off a finger? 'It hurts like chopping off a finger'? Hmmm.. not bad, but it doesn't quite capture the essence of this particular pain. How about buggery? 'Hurts like buggery'? Could be, I'm not sure. But I'd better find out... Better whip out the Yellow Pages... Quick find index... Cars... Cats.... ah! Churches - Catholic! Here we go..." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - THING PART 8 ==================== (Ron is on the couch. Jeff is on the phone) JEFF: Yes, yes, I'll hold. (Jeff waits) JEFF: Hello? Yes, I'm told I need to get a form 14 F. What? Yes, I'll hold. RON: Government departments... JEFF: Hello? Yes, I'm trying to get a form 14 F. What? But I just spoke to them, they transferred me to you. (Jeff hangs up in disgust.) RON: Huh... bloody government department bureaucracy. JEFF: Who said anything about government, I was just trying to order a pizza. I knew it was a mistake to phone this one. (He holds up a leaflet.) Huh. Red Tape Pizza. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You are privileged to have survived another episode of Toxic Custard. Despite this, we hope you have a nice day. If you would like to spoil the rest of the week by reading Toxic Custard back-issues, (available by ftp) then email tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without profit provided no modifications are made. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Telecom have absolutely Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| nothing to do with whatever Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| garbage I decide to TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| write in my spare time. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Historic Toxic Custard" +====+ ===+ ++ ++ ====+ || || || || || Number 203 ||oxic ||ustard || || ||orkshop ||=+iles 12th June 1994 || ===+ == == || Sculpted by Daniel Bowen Ladies and gentlemen, climb into your police-box, put your weird time-trousers on, cast your spells, call your travel agent, or do whatever you normally do when you travel through time... but come with us on a trip through time... TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD Part 1 of A Bunch 1800-1700 BC The first use in Egypt of papyrus. Before long, Egyptians on their way to work would be reading the morning papyrus on the camel train. In 1748 BC the first Scroll Three girls were introduced by papyrus baron Rupmur Doch. Yes, that is a very very bad try at an ancient Egyptian name. 1400 BC Moses finally gets sick of Egypt and walks out, taking all his mates with him. He gets into an argument with some dam builders along the way and wins a monumental bet from them. He also ghost-writes the world's first ten point etiquette guide. 1300-1200 BC The Hittites, controlling Mesopotamia, discover the wonders of smelting iron, and open iron smelting shops up and down the country. In them, tough and/or sinewy men stand around very hot furnaces cracking dirty jokes, and pinning up Scroll Three girls. The Hittites, having armed their men to the teeth with big hammers, Singer sewing machines and complete spanner sets, then clash with Egypt. History says that neither wins, and both empires begin to crumble. *I* say one crumbled a tad more than the other. In fact, *I* say I've never heard of the Hittites. 'Nuff said? 1180 BC The famous Siege of Troy, where the Greeks came up with the idea of giving away free samples (of giant wooden horses) for product promotion and genocidal purposes. The horse is left outside the gates of Troy, loaded with Greek warriors, who manage to keep from giggling while the Trojans drag it back inside. The rest is history. Now, where does Pandora fit into all this? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - THING PART 9 ==================== (Someone knocks on the door. Jeff goes to look out the window and see who it is.) JEFF: Oh Shit, it's the Salvos! RON: But we're not homeless. We live in what could loosely be described as a home. Ergo elk, we're not homeless. JEFF: I think you'll find they're not after us to give us tea and save our souls, more like scum some money off us. RON: Oh, now that's a different matter. (Another knock on the door) JEFF: Quick Ron, get rid of them. (Ron opens the door). RON: Yeah? SALVO 1: Hello, we're collecting for the Red Shield Appeal. RON: Sorry, we don't have any spare red shields. SALVO 2: No no, a donation. Money. RON: Money? Dollars? Cash? SALVO 1: Yes. JEFF: Tell her there's none in the house. RON: There's none in the house. It's all hidden in a small metal box buried in the park, due east from here, landlubber. SALVO 1: (backing away) Yes well, fine, sorry to trouble you. RON: Take thirty steps north from the roundabout, arr, and there ye be. (Jeff comes to the door and pushes Ron away.) JEFF: Please, don't worry about Ron. Ron, go sit down. Hello, Red Shield Appeal, is it? Collecting for the homeless? SALVO 2: Yes. JEFF: Right, well, I don't know if you realised this, but we don't actually live here. We're wossname.. squatting. We're actually homeless. So... ummm.. could you give us some money? SALVO 1: What? JEFF: Go on, just a few bucks for a pizza. Oh, and a bottle of Coke. It'd save our lives. SALVO 1: It doesn't actually work like that. Besides, this doesn't look like a squat. JEFF: Doesn't it? Oh well, no, that's because we've taken very good care of it. We're squatters, but we're *proud*. And because other organisations have donated... the sofa, and the TV... SALVO 2: And the drinks cabinet? JEFF: Erm... yeah, look... heh heh... (Jeff shuts the door in their faces and goes back to the sofa.) RON: So can we claim a tax deduction? JEFF: What, just because they came to the door? No, I think you'll find in the small print in the Tax Pack that it says you actually have to give them some money before it's deductible. RON: I don't know why they bother collecting for the homeless. How would they find them? JEFF: Give me strength, Lord. RON: Oh sorry, I didn't realise you were a Christian. (Ron goes back to watching the telly.) JEFF: I'm not a Christian, I was just requesting that a deity, any deity, enhance my powers of patience in order to aid my dealings with your STUPID MIND! ALL YOU EVER DO IS SIT THERE PICKING YOUR NOSE AND MAKING THE MOST STUPID OBSERVATIONS! RON: Haha ha! Those Biker Mice From Mars are great. Sorry, what did you say? JEFF: Don't worry about it. Just sit there. Go on! Sit there! Just sit there watching cartoons. Don't try and indulge in any type of intelligent conversation. Just sit there with the brain on neutral and take in the telly. RON: Okay. Oh, commercial break. Hey, have you seen my Berholt Brecht anywhere? (Ron goes off to find his book) JEFF: And while you're at it Lord, please strike Ron down. Just a little bit? Please? Just a small lightning bolt? A small, localised, swarm of locusts? Bees? Some kind of killer mind eating disease? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Here we can see the terror in their eyes - eyes that have just been forced once again to read Toxic Custard against their will. And the real tragedy is that if the U.N. doesn't intervene soon, they will have the chance to get Toxic Custard back-issues, just by emailing tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without profit provided no modifications are made. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| All this is done in my spare Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| time, not in Telecom's. That's Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| right, I have nothing better to TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| do with my time. Pretty sad, eh? I wonder if they have identification parades in Legoland... "Just walk along the line, Miss, and tell us which of them it was." "Oh how should I know, they all look the fucking same!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Toxic Custard in triplicate" Dear readers, I would like to apologise for the abundance of Toxic Custards that have inundated you over the previous two weeks. However, I'm sure you'll be aware that the Internet Committee For Increased Bureaucracy now requires that mailing lists are always sent to readers in triplicate. The recommended method of reading is to print out your Toxic Custards three times onto transparent paper, and hold them together up to the light for reading. It's especially cool when two of the copies are either upside-down or back-to-front or both. (And yes, I am wrestling with the mailing software). =============== =============== = = Number 204 T O X I C =C=U S T A R D = = = June 20th, 1994 =============== = = =============== Written by = W O=R K S H O P = F I L E S = Daniel Bowen =============== =============== = TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD Part 2 of A Stack c1060-c970 BC David is king of Israel. During this time, the first negotiations take place with the PLO, but to no avail. The rest of the world eagerly waits for a resolution... c970-c940 BC Solomon is king of Israel. Sheesh, why couldn't Israel make up its mind? Anyway, Solomon uses his enormous wealth to build the Temple at Jerusalem. Others argue that such a large infrastructure project should not be contemplated under such economic conditions. Solomon starts to get irritated when a petition is raised by local residents fearing noise from prayers and the destruction of a local beauty spot (where the sand is piled into particularly picturesque dunes). 800 BC The Phoenicians found Carthage. They shouldn't have lost it in the first place. Carthage had actually been left on the bus from Dandios to Chadzintium in 802 BC, and had been sitting in a lost property office for 18 months. The Phoenicians just happened to be going past the lost property office the day before everything got auctioned off, so as you can see, it was a pretty close run thing. 776 BC First Olympiad. Karlos Lewisophonos is stripped of his gold medallion when it is found he has been using performance enhancing herbs. Greek women protest at their non-admittance, mainly because they want to see the athletes, who are competing nude. Several well-endowed athletes injure themselves during the running events, inspiring the Pole Vault for the next Olympics. 753 BC Rome founded. It probably involves some Caesar or other digging the first sod, or opening a plaque, or some other kind of ceremony. "I hereby declare this Empire open. May Zeus bless her, and all who live in her." Something like that. Followed by an inaugural crucifixion. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - What's this? O.J. Simpson charged with murder?! No! So, let's take a walk down to the betting shop to see who'll be the next famous person to be arrested... 1000 to 1 on Prince Charles being charged with littering 500 to 1 on the Pope being caught stealing condoms from the Chemist 100 to 1 on Roseanne Arnold murdering Tom and eating his corpse 50 to 1 on John Major assaulting photographers outside Downing St 10 to 1 on Ron Birchall, Jeremy Beadle's neighbour, going round to Jeremy's place to smash his face in 4 to 1 on Keith Richards being arrested for drugs possession. (Normally it's all used before he can be caught) 3 to 2 on Axl Rose being arrested for assault/drugs/drink driving/noise pollution offences. Again. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Yes, it's true. Shoes harass me. I've been looking for a new pair of runners for several months now. And while my old, increasingly soleless shoes continue stepping their way to destruction, I find myself unable to make a definitive decision about a new pair. "What's the problem", I hear you ask. (Other questions you may be asking are "What fucked up his mind?" and "What's the number of that therapy clinic?") The problem is that of choice. Too much of it. I know it's meant to be wonderful to live in a consumer society. I know it's great to have the power of choice over which one of a million products I want to throw my cash at. But how *do* you choose two shoes out of a million pairs? Apart from ensuring that they are a matching pair, and are a reasonable fit on my feet, what other criteria are there? Okay, I don't plan to wear anything too outrageous. And it has to be within the bounds of what's sensible to spend on a pair of feet protectors. I'm unlikely to be attracted by the kind of shoes that would put the country's richest entrepreneurs into bankruptcy. (In fact, it's known that several rising stars of the 1980s got caught when it came to footwear.) There are shoes for everything. For jogging (ie slow running with the aim of ultimately going nowhere, because you generally run to "somewhere and back"), cross training (for example, angrily telling those miserable kids in the junior footy team to get on with 50 laps of the oval and 10 push-ups each before they get their dinner), tennis, etc, etc, etc. I just want shoes to wear while doing stuff. But they don't seem to have a category for that, so I have to try and work out what the closest to "stuff" is. Anyway, you'll be happy to hear that I've solved the whole problem. I'm determined now. Tomorrow, I'm going to the absolutely biggest shoe shop in the city. I'm going to walk in there, my head held high. I won't browse. I won't "just look". I will choose my shoes at a speed estimated by witnesses as less than three seconds. It will be fast. It will be decisive. And it will be random, because I'll be going in with a blindfold over my head, and pointing to a random pair of shoes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ladies and Gentlemen, just to announce that Toxic Custard has finished for this week. Those wishing to obtain back-issues by ftp can enquire at their nearest Toxic Custard Subscriptions Information office. Email tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for your nearest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without profit provided no modifications are made. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Toxic Custard is entirely Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| comprised of Daniel's spare Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| time, and contains no additional TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| Telecom time or opinions. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Quick brown Toxic Custard" _____ ___ ____ ____ ____ ____ | / \ / | / \ / \ |___ Toxic Custard | | \ /\ / |___ ____/ | | \ Workshop Files | \___ \/ \/ | /_____ \____/ ___/ 27th June 1994 TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD Part 3 of A Rather Large Pile 750-550 BC Greek city states emerge on Greek mainland and around the coasts of the Mediterranean and Black sea. It's probably about now that the name "Macedonia" first gets argued about. 691 BC Assyrians conquer Egypt. The Assyrian accountants spend endless summer evenings arguing about how the Egyptians ever could have raised the cash to build the pyramids, especially during the recession of 3000 BC. An attempted calculation of the depreciation on the Sphinx causes overloads on several abacuses (abacii?) 660 BC First Mikado in Japan meets rapturous applause and goes on to do a six month season at the Tokyo National Theatre. 659 BC First Pirates Of Penzance in Japan. We don't really need to take this joke any further, do we? 612 BC Chaldeans conquer Assyrians (just as they were getting their heads around tax rebates for infrastructure investments) and establish second Babylonian Empire. They are condemned for their execution and torture of civilians, and for giving inspiration for Boney M over 2000 years later. 597 BC Nebuchadnezzar, Chaldean emperor, captures Jerusalem in a campaign of rock throwing and car bombs, and carries off the Jews into captivity. 594 BC Solon lays the foundations of Athenian democracy. Unfortunately, stone voting tablets make counting a real pain in the arse. 560 BC Buddha born. It wasn't until later that he put on weight. It is not recorded whether or not he gained hair before losing it all again. Amongst his most amazing achievements is getting copyright over his own image, which means that if you look carefully you'll find a "Copyright (c) Buddha Holdings Inc, 520 BC" on the bottom of every Buddha. Well, okay, not the *bottom*... oh, you know what I mean. 551 BC Confucious born. His first great saying is "goo gaa gggoo blarp." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog again. Perhaps the lazy dog should get up from where it's lying and go out and get a job. The taxpayers shouldn't have to support a dog that is so lazy that all it does is lie around being jumped over by quick brown foxes. In fact, it's parasites like the lazy dog that make it very difficult for many quick brown foxes to keep jumping. Many quick brown foxes spoken to by Toxic Custard were unhappy about this. "Yeah, it's like we're subsidising them lazy dogs..." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - THING PART 10 ==================== (The television starts to go fuzzy) RON: Hey, what's wrong with this telly? JEFF: Wrong? Nothing? Nothing should be wrong. It's brand new, we only bought it last week. Should be nothing wrong. Wrong? What do you mean wrong? What have you done to it? What buttons have you pressed? What foul deeds have you performed on its fine tuning? What desecration has been done to its antenna?! What sacrilege is this?!!? RON: Keep your toupee on, I'm sure it's nothing serious. (Jeff tries switching channels.) JEFF: Nothing serious?! That was my fucking five hundred dollars! Look, none of the channels work! RON: Yeah yeah yeah. Hold on, I'll try a kick. (Ron gives the TV a kick on the left hand side, and is about to try another on the right when Jeff grabs his leg, pulls Ron's shoe off, throws it out the window, and starts hitting Ron's foot with a mallet.) JEFF: Don't kick my telly! Don't kick my telly! RON: All right, all right! Ow! All right, it's under warranty, we'll call a TV repairman. JEFF: Correction: YOU will call a repairman. I'll get back to reading the new phone book. Now, where were we? Ah yes, Government Services fast index... (Later. Jeff is still reading the phone book. Ron is asleep on the couch, probably dreaming about naked people, with a big grin on his face. There is a knock at the door. Ron wakes up with a start, and goes to open it.) RON: Yeah? TV MAN: TV Repair. RON: Oh yeah, come on in. JEFF: Just a minute. Photo identification, please. TV MAN: What? JEFF: Identification. We can't let just anyone in here, you know. Security. For all we know, you could be a lunatic psychopathic who'll plant a bomb in our telly which kills us all when we tune into A Current Affair. TV MAN: So the fact that I said "TV Repair", when your mate here answered the door, and I could have only known that you wanted a TV repaired if you had rung me, is of no import? JEFF: Ah well, yes. That death-defying logic will do. Come in. TV MAN: So, this is the telly, is it? Tsssstt.. I dunno. The ol' Mitsanyasonic '94, is it? Tricky to get the parts for this one... JEFF: May I remind you that this is under warranty, so you don't need to inflate the price or repair time by saying Tssst a lot and muttering about cowboy manufacturers? TV MAN: Oh. Okay. Well, let's try... (He kicks the TV on the right hand side. The picture comes back instantly.) TV MAN: All right? Sign here please. (Jeff signs the clipboard, and the TV man leaves. Ron changes the TV back to the cartoons, and Jeff sighs.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That's it. Go back to something sensible. Got back-issues if you want 'em. Enquire at tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without profit provided no modifications are made. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Toxic Custard is a product of Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| Daniel's mind, and Daniel's Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| mind alone. Telecom have nothing TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| to do with it. Lucky them. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ the Toxic Custard Workshop Files by Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without profit provided this notice remains intact. For subscription information, contact tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu