                              
        
                                         @                                 
                     .%#@   .%#@   .%#@.    .%#@.  .%#@
                    $'     $'     $'   $ $ $'   $ $'
                    $  *@_ $@*    $   .' $ $   .' $@*
                    `*%#&$ `*%#&$ $  $.  ` $      `*%#&$
                                  `    '   `
                     /|\                             /|\
                      |                               |
                      |        issue #6,  4/96        |
                      |                               |
                      `---- is this even legible? ----'
                              
                       written by: Rapeman (who else?)
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"my mother, i'll tell you about my mother" - bladerunner        
        
        well, goddammit, i'm excited.  i have a new member.  dr. boffo,
welcome to geripe.  <i wipe a tear from my right eye as my lip quivers> 
my fellow human-hater should be writing an issue quite soon.

also introducing:                         
                           
                           THE CHURCH OF GERIPE
                      (details, hopefully, next issue)
                 (only i know, i'm still conferencing with)
                 (Moroni, one of my several inner-children)


        AN OPEN LETTER OF REQUESTS FOR ANY 
        EXTRATERRESTRIALS VISITING MY PLACE OF DWELLING: 
          
        As you have read the title, I assume that you understand the purpose
of my letter.  But I must emphasize that these are POLITE requests, meant
from a mere human, such as myself, as SUGGESTIONS.  I can think of nothing
more painful than pissing off hordes of obviously creative individuals of 
unknown disposition that have a noticable lack of value for human life.  I
assure you that there is something behind this mask of an animal for which
pain is a very real thing.  Utilizing this information, you may safely 
conclude that I would not be entirely happy with an/another abduction.  What
follows are my HUMBLE requests:

1.  Now that my dog is dead, please do not molest it any further.  Your
    previous experiments, however intended, were not particularly 
    benefactory.

2.  If you feel the need to enter my room, please knock before entering.

3.  Due to current medication, the bright light is particularly painful.  If
    you wish to stun me, please use a more aesthetically pleasing 
    debilitant.  A content subject of vivisection is a better subject of
    vivisection.  

4.  Please desist from landing in my backyard.  The large circles of dead
    grass are not necessarily an annoyance to me, but my father is beginning
    to complain.

5.  My feline companion is already extremely neurotic.  Strange little men
    probing at her insides are not necessarily going to make her any easier 
    to live with.

6.  Upon the incidence of my abduction,  please have me properly anesthetized
    before any strange experiments are conducted on my body.

7.  Please do not quietly come upon me from behind.  That would only serve
    to soil my clothes.  An occurance of that nature would be an 
    inconvenience for the both of us.  

 
Please take these into consideration.  Feel free to keep me informed on
our status.
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After having written an appoximation of the above about one year ago,  I was
reminded of it through reading the following article that I chose to include
with, again, absolutely no permission.  I'm such a bastard.

from the column: Cocktail Hour - by Joe Capasso in the April 24-May 1
                 edition of _The_Met_

        Oftentimes, after I've consumed a few drinks, I start to wonder about
stuff I probably shouldn't waste time wondering about.  Stuff like, "If I
were a woman, would I get breast implants?" Or, "How do they get the filling
in Twinkies to be so darn creamy?"
        The other day, after finishing off my third martini, I had one of
those ridiculous thoughts, and it went something like this:  Why do space
aliens always seem to abduct flannel-shirt-wearing, backwoods freaks?  You
never hear about alien abductions of interesting people, such as rocket
scientists, political tyrants, or cocktail correspondents.  If you were a
space alien, wouldn't you rather poke and prod a nuclear physicist from
New York City than a Freeman from Montana?  It seems to me that our 
interstellar buddies need a little help in picking their lab rats.  
Therefore, in order to give a hand to our orbiting pals,  I'm going to make
the following offer: Hey guys, take me.
        I have a lot to offer the scientifically minded abductor of humans.
For any intergalactic aliens reading this column - and since these guys are
constantly monitoring human for signs of intelligence, they must be reading
_The_Met_ - here is a list of reasons why I would make good alien bait.

1.  I can think of nothing more sexually thrilling than having my orifices
    hooked up to all kinds of bizarre electronic devices.
2.  I collected Star Wars action figures when I was a kid.
3.  I like poking around in cornfields late at night.
4.  I never once believed that it was aliens making all those crop circles.
5.  I'll cut my alien abductors in on the take when I write my abducted-by-
    aliens-and-had-my-holes-probed novel and screenplay.  (John Travolta
    will play me.  Maybe we can get the Olson twins to play my captors.)

Well, my bug-eyed little buddies, I'll be waiting.  Just try not to suck me
up into your ship while I'm sitting on the toilet.  No one would believe me
if that happened. ...
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send me your text.  if i like them they will be published.  

contact me at the distro sites:  
                                vip------------------(214)494-1024
                                negativland----------(214)867-1914
                
although you can't contact me
through these bbses any longer
due to lack of funds, call them
nonetheless:                    hacker's haven-------(303)343-4053
                                one jillion degrees--(817)732-3457
                                the nine hells-------(817)346-3370


grp_eot
