Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine
Volume IV, Issue 4, AD MCMXCIX
Wednesday, February 24, 1999
ISSN 1482-0471
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No kidding.  You know, God is weird.

"Welcome to Good Burger, may I take your order?"

"You read the Bible?  See I got this passage memorized.  Ezekiel 
25:17. The path of the righteous man..."

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"Let's ban flowers. All those pistels and stamens and pollen -- why, 
those wicked, wicked plants are having sex RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE 
CHILDREN."
-- John Scalzi, on asg-x, from the signature of Tim Meehan

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1.  Editorial
2.  Marx, Engels, Trotsky, and Tinky Winky:
3.  Anal-retentive Stuck-up Pedantic Uncut Mothers
4.  The Kingdom
5.  Ahi, Rama.
6.  "The Inevitable Boss"
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This week's Golden Testicle award:

All men must die!

http://www.kfs.org/~kashka/ammd.html
-------------------------------------------

1. Editorial
By CoN Staff

WELCOME to issue four of volume four of CoN.  Our delay this week can 
be easily blamed to last week's: too much to do.  While school is 
entertaining as I have mastered the skills of sleeping with my eyes 
open, of selective hearing and regurgitating what a professor wants to 
hear, I am beginning to suffer from the side effects of sleep-
deprivation and too much coke and caffeine.  Needlessly to say, I am 
looking forward to March break in order to recuperate in one week what 
I've lost in nine.

Before I leave you with an e-mail from Jakob Straub, I'd like to 
announce that The Annihilation Fountain (TAF) is now being hosted by 
Scriba Org.  TAF contains articles from the dark, higher minds of our 
hidden virtual society. A recommended read for those that read too 
much science fiction and think that the X-Files are still cool.

The link: http://www.capnasty.org/taf

Our next issue will deal with depression.

From:         Jakob Straub
Organization: Towel Technologies
To:           CoN Editorial <con@capnasty.org>

Re: Jason's Republic: Nearly Ten Minutes of Philosophical Training

> Hello,
>
> I wanted to respond to the philosophical article by Jason MacIsaac
> in the issue of Capital of Nasty, which I enjoyed very much (just
> like the whole thing).
>
> At school, when we were dealing with utilitarianism and were
> discussing the issue of abortion in ethics, our teacher used the
> same example as Jason did to explain the "Slippery Slope" thing,
> i.e. that if you legalize abortion within the first three months
> of pregnancy, it becomes easier to legalize it for later months.
> And he, too, joked about that finally abortion of teenagers would
> become legal...
>
> There's just one difference: The whole thing is not called
> "Slippery Slope" in German, although he explained that expression
> to us. The common picture we use is that of a protective dike,
> getting more and more cracks with further legalization of abortion,
> until finally the whole flood of immoral things is breaking through.
>
> Now I know what question you have in mind, and yes, I did the whole
> Robbie Williams "protective dyke" episode from Good Morning Vietnam
> ("What is a protective dyke ? Is that a large woman standing by the
> river going 'Don't go there, don't go near the river, stay away from
> the river!' - I know you can't use the word dyke, you can't even say
> lesbian, it's women in comfortable shoes! Thank you very much!").
> Of course, no one got it (since nobody knew GMV in English), except
> an exchange student from the US who was laughing until she nearly
> fell out of her comfortable shoes.
>
> Thank you very much!
> Yours, Jakob

-------------------------------------------

2. Marx, Engels, Trotsky, and Tinky Winky:
Leftist Subtext in the Teletubbies

By Jason MacIsaaac

Quite recently, Televangelist Reverend Jerry "Chuckles" Falwell 
published a report in the National Liberty Journal stating that Tinky 
Winky, one of the characters on the Teletubbies, was gay.

What's the National Liberty Journal?  It's a conservative Christian 
magazine.  You can check it out their HQ at http://www.liberty.edu.  
Be sure to read their other headlines,  "IN THIS ISSUE: Non-
Threatening Visible Minorities Working With White People" and "The 
Evolutionary Debate: Dealing With Common Sense, The Biggest Threat To 
The Creationist Standpoint" and "If God Didn't Want Us to Have Nuclear 
Weapons, He Wouldn't Have Made Women Work in Kitchens, or Something 
Like That."

And what are the Teletubbies?  The stars of a truly warped TV program 
from Britain.  It's actually aimed at 2 year olds, and features large, 
florescent-coloured toddlers with antennae, called Teletubbies.  Each 
has a little gray square on his or her stomach, where sometimes they 
show a small video clip.  The Teletubbies wander around a strange 
play-room like land, and speak in a kind of crude, baby-like English.  
Their names are Po, Laa-laa, Dipsy and Tinky Winky.  The show truly 
has to be seen to be believed.

The official Teletubbies site is located at:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/education/teletubbies/tubbies.html

Falwell believes that Tinky Winky is a little light in the loafers. 
Apparently, homosexuality can be transmitted over the airwaves, 
because he cautions parents to be wary of the show. Now, anybody who 
would got to such lengths to find homosexuality in a children's show 
and then warn parents about it has obviously had the Bible thumped on 
his head one too many times. This is the same guy who called Ellen 
DeGeneres "Ellen Degenerate." Anyone this obsessed with homosexuality 
is in a tremendous homosexual panic of his own, and probably watches 
lots of football and beats his wife at half-time just to reassure 
himself that he's still all-male.

What's his evidence that the Tinkster is gay, anyway?  One of the 
arguments he makes is that although Tinky Winky speaks with a boy's 
voice, he carries a purse.  Strictly speaking, that makes the 
Tinkymeister a transvestite, not a homosexual.  Many transvestites are 
heterosexual, they just enjoy women's clothing.  So if anything, Tinky 
Winky should be singing tunes from The Rocky Horror Picture Show like 
"I'm a sweet transvestite from transsexual Transsssssslyvania!"  Or in 
the Teletubby speech "Ama swee twahvestite ah tahwnsexual 
twansssssssslvwaneee!"

Falwell also notes that Tinky Winky is purple, which according to him 
is a gay pride colour.  I wonder what Falwell thinks of war veterans 
who were awarded the Purple Heart.  As far as I know, purple isn't 
particularly associated with the gay pride movement.  Pink is, and 
they do use rainbows a lot, but not purple in of itself.

Finally, Falwell observes that Tinky Winky's antenna is a triangle, 
which is a gay pride symbol.  Wait a minute, he's got something there.  

Might the Christian Right's paranoia about the "big liberal media" be 
correct after all?  Falwell's problem is that his job requires him to 
be as ignorant as possible, so he can't tell where the real evidence 
lies.  As you may recall, I once alerted to the word to the brilliant 
anti-Totalitarianism subtext of the Spice Girls' song  "Wannabe" (see 
CoN issue III.8 - www.capnasty.org\issues\1998-03\cn980420.html#3). 
People with an artistic background (like me) can see symbolism in 
their bowel movements. So I'm much more qualified to examine the 
Teletubbies for subtext.  Which I did.  And I discovered a wide range 
of anti-establishment and leftist propaganda.


TINKY WINKY--FURTHER EVIDENCE OF HOMOSEXUALITY

Further digging reveals some interesting information.  For example, if 
you go to Tinky Winky's profile on the Teletubbies page, you learn 
these facts about him:

-He has a special song which he loves to sing to himself:  "Pinkle 
Winkle Tinky Winky, Pinkle Winkle Tinky Winky."

Aha!  Pink!  And we all know that "Winkle" is sometimes a another word 
for "penis."

-Tinky Winky loves walking, marching, dancing and falling over. 

I don't know that homosexuals particularly like walking, marching, 
dancing and falling over.  That is unless marching refers to a gay 
pride parade.

-Tinky Winky loves big hugs best of all.

Oh yeah?  HUGS FROM WHO, HMM?

 
DIPSY--ANIMAL RIGHTS ACTIVIST AND VEGETERIAN

Dipsy is obviously the environmentalist and possible eco-terrorist of 
the group.  First of all, he's green--dead giveway.  Dipsy frequently 
wears a giant hit with spots that look suspiciously like a cow's.  
Dispy's antennae is straight, going into the cow hat.  Undoubtedly 
this is a savagely ironic attack on animal exploitation, symbolizing 
the rape of the natural world and the animal kingdom. 

Teletubbies do not eat meat--rabbits are frequently seen hopping 
around the land in safety to illustrate this point.  Dipsy, like all 
Teletubbies, only eats two things--Tubby Custard, and Tubby Toast.  
The hat probably further symbolizes the folly of eating meat.  
Remember that the show is from Britain, where Mad Cow disease has 
caused a number of problems.  Clearly that hat (worn on the head 
naturally) represents the insanity of slaughtering animals to consume 
their flesh.

LAA-LAA--PLANNED PARENTHOOD/SAFE SEX ADVOCATE

Laa-laa's leftist leanings are the most carefully concealed.  However, 
after lengthy consideration, it becomes clear that Laa-laa is sending 
a planned parenthood message message.  Laa-laa's favorite thing is a 
large round, peach-coloured ball.  There are lots of possible Pro-
Choice symbols here. First, it might represent the pill, or perhaps a 
diaphragm.  It should be noted that Laa-laa's antennae is a crooked, 
squiggly line--a sperm. Clearly, the ball is meant to counter the 
effects of the antennae--just like a birth control device.


PO--TELETUBBIES OF THE WORLD, UNITE!

Po's political leanings are the most obvious of all.  He's red, an 
obvious Communist.  Po rides a small scooter, which represents the 
transportation industry.  Clearly, by riding the scooter, Po is one 
worker controlling the means of production.  

I have observed episodes of the Teletubbies where Po shares the 
scooter with the other Teletubbies--and here we see the workers 
controlling distribution, which is shared equally.

Po's antennae is a simple circle, which may represent the world, and 
the idea of a global communist state.  It might also represent a chain 
link, a reference to Marx and Engel's Communist Manifesto ("The 
workers have nothing to lose but their chains").  Alternatively, the 
circle could represent a constant cycle, as in Trotsky's idea of the 
perpetual revolution.

Clearly Falwell was on to something, it's just that he had no idea as 
to the depths of the liberal conspiracy, and lacked the proper 
training to find it. If such messages can be found in the Teletubbies, 
they can be found anywhere.  Perhaps one day I will examine Mr. Rogers 
for references to Czarist Russian literature.

Until then, it's time for a Tubby Bye-Bye, comrades.

-------------------------------------------

3.  Anal-retentive Stuck-up Pedantic Uncut Mothers
By  Lilith DemHareIs

We recently moved.  We bought a house.  We moved everything out of the 
old cramped flat, into the new spacious house.

Time to clean the old place.  So we did.  Or rather, I did.  He had to 
go to work.  The invisible cat was still getting used to the new 
place.  I had a few days between contracts, so I ended up over at the 
old place with lots of cleaning stuff. 

I cleaned the old place.  I thought it looked pretty good.

The agent had a few points I had missed.

The new owners thought it was a disaster area.

Huh?

We've all moved places before.  A certain amount of cleaning 
(including carpets) must take place before the deposit is returned.  
Not everyone is the most meticulous of housecleaners.  I'm not.  So I 
overlooked the carbon scoring in the bottom of the oven.  And I forgot 
about the oil on the driveway.  The agent pointed it out.

However, the new owners had something else in mind...

I don't know how they got in, really.  But they managed to get in.  
They harassed the poor agent to let them in during inspection.  That's 
not gentlemanly conduct.  I think it's downright illegal in this 
state.

And they had plenty to say on the state of 'cleanliness'.

First of all, the walls were a mess.  And the carpet cleaner wasn't a 
'real' professional, since he's got a bad reputation.  (Funny, nobody 
had told me.)  There was dust on the blinds, and marks on the floor, 
and dust in the window crevasses, and <gasp> there were fingerprints 
on the lightswitches!!

And there were a whole slew of 'problems'.  You'd think vandals had 
been through the place, according to them.

Apparently, the agent had copped more flak than I did, because while 
she took out her frustrations on me, she only whinged about the 
legitimate points.

Armed with a written list, I set some things to right.  The agent 
stopped by as I finished up, and she passed me off. I thought that 
would be the last time I saw the place.  (I erroneously believed this 
the past two times.)

I no sooner got home, than the agent was ringing me.  "The new owners 
took a look inside.  They say the place still isn't clean, and they 
want you clean it up."

I had only left the place half an hour ago.  Were the new owners 
hiding in the bushes, just waiting for me to leave so they could run 
their little white gloves behind the stove?

The agent only whimpered. Apparently, she had had enough, but couldn't 
quit the game.  She gave me a list of complaints the new owners had.

'Grunge in the bathtub.'   Grunge?  I scrubbed that thing until the 
enamel wore away.  I put so much Jif in there, there was a silica 
shortage.

"Black grunge or white grunge?" I asked.  "White grunge," she 
confirmed.

Ah. The Jif.

I must have been a wimp, because I let her talk me into going over and 
cleaning up the Wish List from Hell.  I realised, the moment I hung up 
the phone, how gullible I had been.  Since I promised I'd go over and 
fix things, I couldn't welsh out.

The next day.  Five-thirty.  AM.  I popped over early in the morning, 
at the time the new owners would least expect me.  I did a few token 
cleans, including washing the dusty white silica from the tub.  I also 
cleaned the toilet seat with caustic soda, and forgot to rinse.  Made 
sure the stove was clean, and accidentally left some chemical on the 
heating elements. Loosened a few nuts on key water pipes under sinks.  
Then I left, locking the door.

Time for Him to go to work.  We stopped by the agency the moment they 
opened, dropped off the key, and signed the form saying that we had 
passed inspection (which we had), we had the carpets 'professionally' 
cleaned (hey, he was in the phone book), and had fulfilled all the 
aspects of our contract.  Our deposit was released to us (He could 
pick it up on his way home from work), and we dropped off all keys.

We were free.

Later that afternoon, our agent wasn't too happy, as the new owners 
weren't too happy.  They'd found even more imaginary problems to 
nitpick about.  I handed the phone to Him, and He plainly told the 
agent that there was nothing she could do.  We had signed the 
paperwork, and thereby were legally freed.

Let the agent deal with the anal-retentive stuck-up pedantic uncut 
mothers.  I never wanted to see that place ever again.

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4.  THE KINGDOM
A "review" by Jeff Wright

	If all tv was like this, we wouldn't need cinema.  The 1994 
Danish mini-series directed by BREAKING THE WAVES director Lars Von 
Trier, about a haunted hospital that is wildly funny and in parts, 
downright spooky.  
	
Broken into 4 parts (each approx. an hour long), THE KINGDOM is 
fast paced and never boring.  A review, which is quoted on the video's 
box calls it "like ER on acid".  I can see where the reviewer is 
comming from but I feel that THE KINGDOM is too good to be compared 
with a show like ER.  The film (it was shot on 16mm, so technically I 
can call it that) spends the majority of its time following the 
everyday happenings of the hospital.  It's terribly funny and I would 
even go so far that if you couldn't cross categorize films, I'd call 
it a comedy.
	
The main characters are as follows (Just to get an idea if you'd 
be interested in watching them for the 4 hrs + of THE KINGDOM, and 
since I don't like really ruining the plotline.  Though the basics are 
all here in the character descriptions.):

Helmer - Asshole extrodinaire.  New to the hospital, and hates 
everyone.  Screwed up a brain operation on a small child and must try 
and cover it up.

Mrs. Drusse - Little old lady who keeps admiting herself into the 
hospital to get in contact with its spirits.  Mother of Bulder.

Moesgaard - Head of the hospital, and a bit of a dim witted chap.

Hook - Doctor who can get you what you need.  Him and Helmer don't get 
along so well.  He also sees Judith.

Rigmor - The only person on earth who can find it in her heart to love 
Helmer.

Bulder - Mrs. Drusse's son, and hospital maintenance worker.

Hansen - Hospital maintenance worker, alongside Bulder. 

Mary - Spirit of a long ago dead girl.

Bondo - Doctor with strong values concerning the human body, and its 
use for science.  

Judith - Doctor who's seeing Hook.  She's also pregnant by a man who 
left her.

Mogge - Moesgaar's son.  Studying to be a doctor.  Lusts after 
Camilla.

Dishwasher 1 - He washes dishes at the hospital.  Sort of like a Greek 
chorus, only with downs syndrome.

Dishwasher 2 - Same as Dishwasher 1, only female.

Camilla - Runs the sleep study section of the hospital.  Object of 
affection, of Mogge.

Aage Krger - You'll see.

Mona - Little girl who was brain damaged under the knife of Helmer.

	That should give you a good idea of what THE KINGDOM is about, 
and if you want to see it or not.  I should hope that you do want to 
see it now, and will seek it out at your video store.  I think it's 
fantastic, and one of the most enjoyable films I've seen in a while.

	GO SEE IT FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!!!!!!

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5.  Ahi, Rama.
By Leandro Asnaghi-Nicastro

The other night I was heading home, coming from the video store, and 
this guy coming from the opposite direction, stops me.  After quickly 
introducing himself to me, he asks me if I knew that Jesus died for my 
sins.  Well, no fucking shit he did.  First of all, if I didn't, I 
would by now. I think one of the amazing things about Toronto is that 
there is always some generous soul, standing in some corner, trying to 
save mine.  Second, I yet have to have some guy from another religion 
come up to tell me that Vishnu, Rama or Allah did something special 
for me, and that I should follow like a sheep.  It's just those Jesus-
flavoured other religions that seem to sprout from the ground and 
capture a few weak-brained individuals.  I'm embarrassed to be Roman 
Catholic at times.

But back to our freak: what got to me the most was the fact that he 
passed four people ahead of me and decided to ask me.  Was there 
nothing wrong with the previous four?  Or perhaps I looked like 
someone who needed salvation? I checked in the mirror that night and 
on my face I couldn't see anything that said, "must be saved!"  I 
digress.

I believe that my mistake was to look at him as he was walking towards 
me.  He must've thought, "Oh, that poor man needs to be saved!  He 
looks at me in search of a companion!  Like a lost sheep searching for 
his shepherd!"  I on the other hand had a more succinct thought 
formulating in my head, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

So I tell him, that no, I did not know, and honestly I couldn't care, 
since I was a Communist, and that a true Communist did not believe in 
such heresy as God over the State.

I was expecting him to pull out a cross and start chanting in Latin, 
but instead he said "Oh, I see that you work at No Frills!" with the 
same big smile.

So the guy can actually see the name of the store I work at on my 
shirt.  He's clever.

"You must know John!  Hasn't he talked to you about the ways of the 
Lord and how he will save us all?"

Obviously this guy wasn't too up-to-date with the events.  John was a 
religious zealot that had the unfortunate faith to work with us at the 
store.  He was the kind of guy that would try to convert you to his 
God, while claiming that your beliefs were superficial, fake and 
childish.  John got beat up a lot, and if not that, locked in the 
freezer at times for hours.

I think the stunning thing about John wasn't his conviction, but the 
inability any of us had to communicate with him.  Sometimes I feared 
that being next to him for too long would've turned me into some brain 
dead amoeba like him.

One day we were all standing in one aisle checking out this girl and 
John began giving us a lecture on how fantasizing sexually over a girl 
was a sin and that we'd be punished.  So we decided to all turn gay on 
John.  We'd walk behind him and pinch his ass, walk hands in hands 
next to him, telling him how cute he was and that his butt was nice 
and firm.  Basically we acted as stereotypical as a homosexual could 
be.  A few weeks of this and John quit gave his two weeks notice.  His 
last comment to us was "God doesn't like queers!" to which we answered 
"See you in Hell, John!"

He was not amused.
Heh heh, ah, God put religious zealots on Earth so we could have a 
good laugh.

A few days later after this accident I had another close encounter of 
this type.  I was coming back from work, minding my own business when 
I noticed a young woman walking towards me.  Walking is a strong word 
in this case. More like trembling towards me.  To put it nicely, she 
looked like someone who got hit by a bus, didn't do too well in that 
brain surgery and was a heavy heroin user.  I am not exactly 
charismatic myself, but when people see me they don't automatically 
arrive to the conclusion that something is majorly fucked up in me.

"Excuse me?" she said.
I look at her.  She's looking at me.  Sort of.
I could assume, if I was more gullible, that she was reading my soul 
for any discrepancies, but it's a safe bet to say that probably her 
brain was just processing what to do next.

"Did you know that Jesus died for your sins?"

I am beginning to wonder if I should seriously change neighbourhood to 
one with less religious zealots roaming in the area.  This is the 
second person in this month alone that questioned my faith.

First of all what fucking sins have I committed?  I don't even have 
enough money to buy a gun and go blow someone off, or go into a life 
of materialistic possessions.  The only girls other than my girlfriend 
that seem to have any interest in me are the ones that a) you honestly 
don't care about and b) you wouldn't touch them with a ten feet pole, 
so for sure you can't scream adultery.  And lastly, is this the only 
fucking line you people have?  I'd like to get stopped once and hear 
"Hey, did you know that Jesus' dad was a carpenter?"

But I guess they must be doing something right.  I've seen a few party 
animals that I used to hang out with turn zealot-like on me.  While 
their liver must be grateful, I was stunned more of how gullible they 
were.

Religion is a guiding light that some people need in order to know 
what to do.  It's like a dog's leash.  Without it, some dogs feel lost 
and don't know what to do and need a good yank.  Others know the way 
home, and stop occasionally to sniff a tree.  One thing people fail to 
understand is to respect other's beliefs.  You can still live a 
perfectly sane and healthy life, being a respectful human being, and 
still not give a rat's ass of what Jesus did 2,000 years ago.  Beside, 
slacker that I am, and how easily I get bored, why should I even join 
a religion that limits me?  I think I've pissed off one God already, I 
don't need to join some other cult and piss another one off.

-------------------------------------------

6.  "The Inevitable Boss"
By Luke de Sade

Remember when you graduated from High School and entered the big world 
of business opportunities? I sure do. I graduated from High School 
with an Accounting degree, wanting to get get a job immediately. Boy, 
was I ever wrong.

I had the "opportunity" to get a job as soon as I came out of school, 
and a "nice" job at that. I was the assistant to the Garage Manager at 
a spare parts for heavy duty realtor. Yeah, nice job. It consisted of 
typing Purchase Orders (in a goddamned old typing machine), Work 
Orders, Letters, Faxes, answering the phone, making reports, and 
telling the mechanics how to do their jobs (as if I knew anything 
about how to fix a bulldozer).

Work was great. Or so I thought. It came a time when I thought I could 
do that job for a long time. I had a nice output on life. 

Now, my bitch boss (even though she was good looking), was a spawn of 
Satan himself. She would yell at me for a single typo. One time, 
instead of writing "Ērdenes" (orders in english), I wrote "ordenes". 
See the difference? (Hint: look at the "o"s). She picks the paper and 
rips it to shred in front of my face and throws it all over my desk. 
Then she yells at me for a simple typo. 

"TYPE THIS SHIT ALL OVER AGAIN!!" she screams. Veins are popping all 
over her neck and forehead by now. "I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANY MORE 
ERRORS!! I WILL FIRE YOUR ASS IF I DO!! I HAVE THE POWER!!"

Believe me. I ain't kidding here. She used to scream that all the 
time. I HAVE THE POWER!! And not just to me, but to the mechanics 
also. I always thought of He-Man and the Masters of the Universe 
whenever she screamed I HAVE THE POWER!! I told some of the mechanics 
this and the name stuck. He-Man. He-Man was my boss.

But, shit, I was scared. I didn't want her to fire me. So I wrote that 
letter all over again, without errors this time. It took me like 20 
minutes to write a two-paragraph letter. I was extra careful.

Then came the time where she asked me to go down to the garage (all 
the mechanics were out on the street doing something) and get her a 
"winch axle". 

"What the fuck's a winch axle?" I thought, but I was afraid to say it 
out loud. So I went down the stairs to the garage and tried to find 
anything that would look like a "winch axle". Since I didn't know what 
I was looking for, I was down there for five minutes until she comes 
storming out the door, yelling my name. I look up and she's coming 
down the stairs, mad as hell.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING DOWN HERE?" she screams.

I was standing next to a table filled with what I first thought was 
debris.

"I'm looking for the winch axle," I say.

She picks up a long, phallus-like metallic object and shoves it at my 
chest.

"IT'S RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!! CAN'T YOU RECOGNIZE A WINCH AXLE?"

Well, right after that I had to come clean. I told her I didn't know 
what a winch axle was. I told her I didn't know anything about 
mechanics. I graduated from Accounting, dammit!

She had this idea for me. She told me I would spend the following week 
working with the mechanics down in the garage, working on the heavy 
machinery.

"Like hell I will," I thought.

One more time, she proved me wrong. The following week I was dressed 
as a mechanic, completely dirty with oil, underneath a forklift. I was 
both scared (two tons of machinery hanging above my soft body) and 
disgusted (engine oil was running all over my body, in my hair, inside 
my ears, everywhere). And my bitch boss would be there at the end of 
the day to mock me and my appearance.

The worst part was the mechanics mocking me. Since I'm good looking 
and stuff (believe me, girls. I am), they would say things like, 
"What's a pretty boy like you doing down here with REAL men?" They 
always emphasised "REAL". They would call me names and such. That made 
me so mad.

There was this kid (I was older than him, he was like 17 or 
something), that always wanted to pick on me. He'd come when I was 
under a forklift or inside a motor and kick me. I couldn't stand it 
much, and I punched the guy square in the face like the third time he 
did it. Guess who got suspended? Me.

Lucky again.

Well, I could only take 5 months of torture from my bitch boss and the 
mechanics from Hell, and I presented my resignation. She turned all 
mushy and soft on me all of a sudden. So the bitch had a soft spot.

Turns out she didn't want me to leave because I was the best assistant 
she ever had (or so she said). She told me she did all that just to 
make me do my job properly. But I had made up my mind already, so I 
left 5 months after the nightmare began.

She called me once at my house to see how I was doing, if I had found 
another job. I told her I had, and I was happy with it. My new boss 
was a friend of mine. She tried to offer me 300$ a month if I returned 
to her (I was making 250$ a month before I quit). Of course I said 
"no", because my new job was much better, and I was making 300$. And 
by having a boss that was a friend of mine (even though that 
friendship soon crumbled), I felt more at home.

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Jesus didn't die for my sins.  It's in the bible.
Mark Chap 34 vs 10.  "I died for the sins of the world, except Leandro's."
vs 11 "So don't bother telling him about it.  He's been briefed."

Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine    "media you can abuse"
In memory of Father Ross "Padre" Legere
Published every second Monday (or when we get around it)
Disclaimer: unintentionally offensive
Comments, queries and submissions are welcome

http://www.capnasty.org  ISSN 1482-0471

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Brought to you by C.C.C.P. (Collective Communist Computing 
Proletariat)
Leandro Asnaghi-Nicastro          Colin Barrett
<leandro@capnasty.org>            <tyrannis@capnasty.org>


ZimID 708EC8D1  1994/09/14 EC B0 97 59 1D FE 7C 32  7E 04 2C 66 47 41 FB 7D
