-> "MONDAY MOURNING NEVER FELT SO GOOD"
    (I FUCKED HER ASS WITH A PIECE OF FROZEN SHIT OH YOU KNOW I WOULD)
 -> by AIDS
 -> Taken from HOE #1000 (1/9/00)

			burn jeaaneee burnnnnnn 

	PLEASE FORGIVE THEM THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY DU WHEN THEY HURT
 SOMEONE, SOMEONE LIKE YU I SEE ALL THE FACES NONE OF THEM REMIND ME OF
 YUuU OUR HEARTS alfdslfs THE SAME WE DOn'T HAVE TO TRY SO HARD SIT BACK
 RELAX SIT BACK RELAX BLACK BETTY HAD A BABY I WANT TO TELL YOU SOMETHING
 GOOD SIT BACK RELAX DAMN THING WENT CRAZY I WANT TO TELL YOU SOMETHING
 SAID IT WEREN'T NONE OF MINE NO IT WEREN'T NONE OF MINE BAMBALAM LITTE
 THING WENT BLIND BAMAMALAM WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING DOWN THERE AT FOUR O
 CLOCK IN THE MOURNING?
					record
					ing
	"yeah, really." 


	buttwhore added to the notification list but I CAN'T NOTIFY ANYONE
 IF I've assumed a new identity as the master of the ocean the
 conquistador of the seas. REMEMBER WHEN ARTAUD WANTED TO PERFORM THE
 CONQUEST OF MEXICO AS A THEATER OF CRUELTY PLAY? AND REMEMBER WHEN HIS
 ALFRED JARRY THEATER FAILED? AND REMEMBER WHEN JODOROWSKI PUT THE FROG
 VERSION OF THE CONQUEST OF MEXICO IN THE FIRST 30 MINUTES OF THE HOLY
 MOUNTAIN?
	Well, you might not remember, but I'm sure Mogel does. 
	
			There's a good time for film and there's a bad
 time for film and then there are those people who won't ever see a movie
 with you, and You transmogrify your intent into decisive need and blast
 the little girls you met into children that were not women but were blood
 stained and I make all the lesbians scream Oh yeah I could quote lyrics
 from albums that are so far in the future you won't ever hear them, but
 why the hell would I waste my powers on that? 
	
			THE MESSENGER: IN WHICH IT IS PROVED THAT ALL YOUR
 ATTEMPTS TO ELEVATE YOURSELF & CHARLES DARWIN AWAY FROM THE APES CAN'T
 SAVE YOU NOTHING, AND YOU STILL GET YOUR J. SHERIDAN LeFANU GREEN TEA
 HARDON WHEN YOU SEE THAT ol' UKRANIAN MAID 

 *** buttwhore added to the notification list
 *ingy* HELLO.
 *ingy* HOW ARE YOU?
 -> *ingy* good
 -> *ingy* and yourself?
 -> *ingy* I saw the MESSENGER
 *ingy* Oo.
 *ingy* Was it any good?
 -> *ingy* I loved it.
 -> *ingy* I think everyone else who has seen it hates it.
 *ingy* I want to see it.

			INVERSION INVERSION INVOLUTION OCEAN 
				sit back, relax 		

	REMEMBER WHAT MARK E SMITH ALWAYS SAID 

		well, once, 

			EXPERIMENTAL IS NOW CONVENTIONAL 
			CONVENTIONAL IS NOW EXPERIMENTAL 
			and is no way noble 

	Also: "YOU THOUGHT IT WOULD BE GREAT YOU THOUGHT IT WOULD BE GREAT
 BUT A GOOD MIND IS NOT A GOOD FUCK MATE"  

		but we all know which applies when and now we're dealing
 with our own inadequacies not those of the ones we fuck fuck fuck fuck
 fuck. Yes, fuck. AH, don't you see? When GUILLIAME wrote ZONE he removed
 all the punctuation. It's cubist! It's futurist! It's Dada! It's
 Surrealism! It's Kobek! 

	WHAT WHAT EAT MY NUT 

 BAMBALAM 

 WELL I'M J ARETT KOBEK AND I'M A ONE MAN BAND. YOU CAN'T HEAR THE RANGE OF
 BASS ON MY STEREO BECAUSE I LACK THE SUBWOOFER. SMOKING CRACK LIKE OTHER
 RAPPERS SMOKE COCK, SMOKING CESS LIKE OTHER RAPISTS SMOKE COCK, YES YES,
 I KNOW MY NAME IS STEVEN SODDENBURG... 

 Old, old, I've been feeling old lately. As I look back and peruse all the
 HOE in all of the world, all of the hoes, those lovely ladies whose flesh
 is the electronic word, who are stained with electric blood, I see them
 and I realize my connection to them is thin and tapering. Like a fucking
 tape worm. like a tanea, like a shitworm. THIN and long and tapering off
 into OLD AGE? Am I gradually fading away into that other world rather
 than bursting into with passion? It's entirely possible, it's entirely
 so, but you know, guys, you just don't seem particularly /happy/. I mean,
 you're all so god damned sad and so morose, and it's always "WHiNE WHINE
 WHINE WHINE WHEN I LOVED YOU, FRANKIE, WHEN I LOVED YOU AND THEN YOU
 DUMPED MY STUPID ASS AND THEN I CRIED AND SOMETIMES I CRY AND I CRY AND I
 CRY AND I HAVE NO MORE HOPE DUE TO ALL THE JAPANESE NOVELS I'VE READ",
 and I mean, I don't propound to be the happiest person alive, nor do I
 even want to be happy, having in fact placed my unsheathed sword dick
 inside the living flesh incarnation of that particular hilt, but Jesus
 Christ, I just couldn't maintain the energy and effort it must take to
 be so miserable so constantly. Hell, I couldn't maintain it for more than
 a hour last night, and that was after I went on the Boston Death Trip to
 see a movie I knew was going to be sold out and that I had no interest in
 seeing, and I left 30 minutes late. And in the end, my Milla Jovovich
 fascinating was fulfilled, more or less, and in the end I saw the movie I
 wanted to see. But it's like, you know, you guys, you don't even /know/
 what movie you want to see. It's like you don't even want to see a movie,
 it's like you're stuck in the lobby and you don't have the $8 price of
 admission, and you don't even care to beat 11 year olds at Tekken 3. I
 mean, you're riding in Ed Gein's death car and you don't even have a
 destination. You just don't seem particularly happy or really
 particularly interesting, so I can't really do it anymore. So I've been
 forced to splinter my sphincter into a million different realities,
 converging TCP/IP packets as embodied by a 70 mile an hour drive around 
 Thurber's Avenue Curb on 95 south, and let them all smash and collide
 into one another in the hopes that the juice which flows from the crushed
 bodies will be the sweetest possible nectar. You're wasting all this
 energy maintaining a sickening veneer of disreputable emotional
 decrepitude and you aren't even /going anywhere/ with it. The theater is
 closed and the lights are off, no one is applauding, and the film will
 never be projected. The best you can hope for is a circle-jerk mirror
 image of yourself whining as loudly as you. Like the Zombie Laura Croft
 in Tomb Raider. Your ultimate goal is the consumption of self into
 something that consumes the self. It sounds very zen, but it isn't. I
 know, I listen to Bush. I went to los angeles and I found a guy who
 basically is my asshole brother. He went on a pseudo-date with Pezmonkey.
 Apparently he's not a very happy person either, but at least he pretends
 when I'm around.

 Speaking of Alejandro Jodorowsky, I saw a post in alt.cult.movies which
 claims that the big A.J. is going to be direct Marilyn Manson's
 screenplay HOLYWEIRD. I wish Marilyn Manson would hurry up and stop
 biting my style. It's /so/ 1997, don't you think? Anyway, at the very
 least I'm happy to have my suspicions confirmed that uh the video for uh
 that song was basically just a rip off of THE HOLY MOUNTAIN interspersed
 with Billy Zane cruising for gay cock. "Hey dad, this is the guy I just
 sucked off on stage." You know?

 Oh speaking of queer ass faggots biting my old school styles: Unrelated,
 when are you going to stop using those NIN ultimate break beats and shit?
 Niggas keep recycling the same break beats for a million years. That shit
 is tired, and so are you. please stop writing text files. I'm sorry I
 ever made you a member of HOE. 

 If I was ever going to write a file full of self-pity, the vast majority
 of the context would be me feeling bad for myself that I was stupid
 enough to allow Unrelated to become a full fledged member.

 I heard he's on a hitchhiking tour of all 48 continental states. 

 Please shoot him on sight. 

 Gosh guys, don't you think, you know, instead of sitting around feeling
 bad for yourselves, you could actually go out and DO SOMETHING? Like, I
 don't know... read about General Robert E. Lee's famous horse TRAVELER?
 Can't you go see the light of day? It's bright and penetrating and might
 shrivel your harpy heart, but at least uh, you'll have seen it once...
 Like fucking BRAD PITT watching SUPER MAN. 

 I guess a lot of you like FIGHT CLUB. 

 I guess a lot of you have bad taste. 

 Remember, there's a whole world out there, and I wrote it all together
 with meaningless words, the women are all stained with blood, Tasha got
 some oral sEXXor, I longed for some oral sexxor, Dean wondered for the
 Nth time what happened to his genitalia, Bob Log clapped some tits, and
 the whole world came crashing down around us as the dreaded J2K bug
 kicked your fucking assholes.

 Yes, J2K... J arett 2 Kobek, it's my latest project. yes, it's a Boyz 2
 Men cover group. Starring robots. hell yes. Robots that look like Harvey
 Keitel and make his Bad Lutentinadnanent Dan seal noise. 

 AARE YOU A COCK SUCKER DO YOU LIKE TO SUCK COCK LET ME SEE YOUR ASS LET
 ME SEE HOW YOU WOULD SUCK COCK OH YEAH SUCK THAT COCK LET ME SEE YOUR ASS
 THIS ISN'T THE NC-17 VERSION SO MY COCK ISN'T HERE BUT LET ME SEE YOU
 SUCK THE AIR COCK WHILE I WANK OH YES THERE IS YOUR FRIEND'S ASS THAT'S
 A KEEPER OH YES OH GOD YES GOD YES OH GOD YES OH OH GOD OOO

 DEEP SEA EXPLORING I SEE MANY NEW THINGS BUT I NEVER SAW AN ASS 

 the things I could tell you about her ass. 

 THE THINGS I COULD TELL YOU ABOUT /HER/ ASS. 

 THE THINGS i COULD TELL you ABOUT HER ASS. 

 the things I could tell you about her ass. 

 Limitless world.