Return-Path: Received: from bikini.cis.ufl.edu by wasp.eng.ufl.edu (4.1/4.2) id AA15111; Mon, 15 Mar 93 19:22:52 EST Received: from aggie.ucdavis.edu by bikini.cis.ufl.edu (5.61ufl/2.35) id AA21989; Mon, 15 Mar 93 19:22:39 -0500 Received: from hamlet.ucdavis.edu by aggie.ucdavis.edu (5.61/UCD2.04) id AA20480; Mon, 15 Mar 93 16:12:34 -0800 Received: by hamlet.ucdavis.edu (5.57/UCD2.03) id AA08731; Mon, 15 Mar 93 16:11:33 -0800 From: smbancroft@ucdavis.edu (Steven Bancroft) Date: Mon, 15 Mar 93 16:11:33 -0800 Message-Id: <9303160011.AA08731@hamlet.ucdavis.edu> To: esj@bikini.cis.ufl.edu Subject: Mike's Madness #26 From: nobody@ucdavis.edu Newsgroups: rec.humor Subject: Mike's Madness #26 Summary: Followup-To: Distribution: world Organization: Keywords: Mike's Madness #26 Good Evening and welcome to the Antique Shopper . . . Our first item is sent in by Mr. Thomas L. Scumbeater, and it's a wonderful commemorative plate entitled "Who's a fat git, then?", specially commissioned for His Majesty King Richard the XXIII on the occasion of his consuming an entire baked horse during the Festival of Saint Flatulence in 1493. The plate is done in Crayola on Chinette and therefore isn't worth the shit it would take to cover up this odious piece. Next on our parade is another commemorative item, this one created in 1850. It's worth is zilch, however, as there is absolutely no interest in collectable rectal thermometers, even if they do commemorate the discovery of hemmorhoid balm. And finally, a wretched piece of garbage unsuitable for anything but lining the bottom of nuclear waste dumps, issue #26 of Mike's Madness. . . Now Playing in Cinema I: Like "Cops"? Like "Star Trek - The Next Generation"? Then you're gonna have sticky underwear after you see: - - - - - - - - - - - - - K N A R K S I N S P A C E - - - - - - - - - - - - - Join us in the 24'th century where science has lead us to an awe inspiring advance in marijuana horticulture: An eighth of greenbud that doesn't attract 50 "friends"! Wesley: "PSST! Data! Data - over here! I copped a jay from my mom's stash! Dude - it's ALTERIAN!" Data: "Young Ensign Crusher, I believe Alterian weed to be approximately 190% THC with some inert ingredients, which are also THC. Quite a . . . stony experience . . . as the vernacular goes." Wes: "Cheese it, dude! It's Capt. Picard!" [Dudes, a few years ago, when TNG first came on, I posed as Hunter S. Thompson and crashed a Trek convention. Like all the main dudes were there, including Patrick Stewart. And there were like these HELLA gross chicks all lustin' after him. Dude - these were like whale chicks - 2 tonnes minimum, smelled like fish and you'd have to hold your breath to fuck one. Anyway, I was all "Dude! I'd hella hate to be Patrick Stewart because if one of these chicks caught you, you'd have to gnaw your own dick off to get away" and this chick sees me. I mean, I only knew she was a chick because basketballs normally don't have tits. She was like 4'2, a good 250 pounds [actually, there's nothing "good" about 250 pounds, lest it be the truly, righteously, wholly stony greenbud], wearing polyester, and green pants with this hella nasty wet spot around the crotch. And this nasty ol' woman spotted my alarming red-and-yellow press badge from across the convention floor and waddled a beeline towards me, pushing all sorts of normal people aside with her body odor. And she asks: "Are you a reporter?" And I said: "I remember this one time I was in Monterey and this fish cannery exploded, and even the stench of 9,000 tonnes of dead haddock rotting for 6 days under the summer sun smelled roughly 30 trillion times better than you do." Ignoring my ever-so-subtle rebuke, she asked: "You know what I'd do if I got Patrick Stewart in bed?" And I looked at her and whined: "Oh Christ, I'll give you 50 bucks if you don't!" And she began to describe, in hateful detail, a sex act so foul you wouldn't do it to a fox (at least not an attractive one). And when she arrived at, many vile hours later, "And then I'll make him sniff my panties" I blew three chili dogs and a good two gallons of Budweiser all over the front of this spherical woman. I then excused myself and jammed outta there and was back in Sacramento within the hour. Moral: Dude - never, NEVER take your pants off at a Star Trek convention.] ----- Picard: "Ensign Crusher! What is that you have behind your back?" Data: "Alterian marijuana buds, Captain." Wes: "KNARK!" Picard: "Holdin' out! Why you little --" Wes: "CAPTAIN! LOOK OUT! It's a grody 300 pound woman with a wet crotch and the hots for you!" Picard: "AGGGRRRRRGGG! KILL IT! KILL IT! THROW SOAP AND DOUCHE AT IT!" Data: "Ivory and Massengil right away, sir." Wes: "GOT HER! Listen to her scream!" Data: "Victory over foulness, Captain." Picard: "Hey - where did young Ensign Crusher go?" Data: "Computer -- Locate young Ensign Crusher." Computer: "Ensign Crusher is blazing massive doobage in holodeck 3. Program: The Last Prostitute." Picard: "That's punishment enough. Commander Data, will you join me in my ready room?" Data: "I thought you'd never ask . . ." There will now follow a note from some whiner who watches WAY too much TNG . . . Dear Miscreant, In your recent "humor" piece, you featured our beloved Commander Data saying "You'd". Commander Data would NEVER say "you'd" because he does not use contractions. However, he did say "Go fuck yourself, Beverley" in a recent episode called "Wesley Gets the Crap Beat Outta Him By a Couple of Ferengi", which was only shown in Australia. Sincerely, Mr. Iwatchwwaytoomuchstartrekthenextgen erationandmybrainhasturnedintospam. P.S.: Speaking of Spam, it's time for the next bit . . . #73: The next bit #73: The next bit Now playing in Cinema II: Nominated for 7 Academy Awards including Best Picture and Most Likely to Cause Violent Stomach Upset . . . Jodie Foster: "I stayed up late one night . . . I saw grandpa herding them in the barn . . ." Based on a story so nauseating that even a German might spew! Anthony Hopkins: "Then what happened, Clorice?" Proof that no act is so henious that someone isn't willing to try to make a buck off it. Jodie: "Grandpa opened their little cans . . . I saw the pink meat . . . the jelly . . . they began to scream . . . >From the author who brought you "THE GREAT ST. LOUIS ENEMA MASSACRE OF 1923", "TEENAGE MASTURBATION: A HOW-TO APPROACH" and no small number of other books he shoulda kept to himself . . . - - - - - - - - - - - - - S I L E N C E O F T H E S P A M S - - - - - - - - - - - - - (filmed in glorious, 90mm Revolt-O-Vision) Man standing in a huge heap of dung: "Oooooo! I wish there was some kind of software to go with that movie . . . BOTTOM! Oh, I wasn't 'posed to say that." And now for Mr. D.Q. of D.C. . . . #74: Also the next bit #74: Also the next bit D.Q.: "That's a link, innit? . . . NO! I don't wanna go back on the re-election trail, George! The nasty ol' press always makes fun of me! I have to sleep with Marilyn, isn't that punishment enough?" [Oh yeah, Mariyln Quayle - babe-a-licious. NOT! Someone PLEASE buy that woman a .12 gauge paper sack so we won't have to look at her face again. She's all turning reporters into statues at the press conferences and the snakes on her head keep biting children. I'm serious, she's the coyote date from hell, and Zippy went off and married her! If we'd seen her at the '88 convention, we'd known Quayle was incapable of making rational decisions. I'd like to have seen Dan's internary for his wedding day: 10am - order "Hooked on Phonics" 11am - try it without the training wheels - again 12am - Marry the ugliest woman since Grace McDaniels 1pm - See if "Hooked on Phonics" got here yet 2pm - ask mom about that "vagina" thing 3pm - see the ugliest woman since Grace McDaniels naked 4pm - blow 5pm - honk 6pm - spew 7pm - see if "Hooked on Phonics" got here yet 8pm - ralph 9pm - etc.] Anyway, about that software . . . You let 'em talk you into Windows . . . "Hey - what's this Unrecoverable Application thing?" You let 'em talk you into Unix . . . "Hey - what're all these letters by the filenames?" You shouldn't have let 'em talk you into this . . . "Hey - how come the only thing on my screen is 'I can help you catch him, Clorice'?" ----------------------------------------- NEW Lectorbase IV: Silence of the DRAM's! ----------------------------------------- "Hey - who took all these bites outta my nudie .GIF's?" Available at all finer software outlets and slaughterhouses! Lectorbase IV: "What's it do, this spreadsheet you sssssseek?" (Personally endorsed by Ed Gien, Albert Fish, Alfred Packer, the entire Uraguayan National Rugby Team and that Dahmler fella) Also available atcher friendly local software dealer . . . ------------- Jodiebase III: ------------- "Hey - there's something hinkley - er, hinkey - 'bout this thing . . ." And now, presenting another amazing case from the files of England's most amazing detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, in: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Sherlock Holmes Nicks 5 and 8 From Watson and Spends it on Hookers and Coke" ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Sherlock, I seem to be missing 5 and 8! Have you seen it?" "I nicked it and spent the lot on hookers and coke, Watson." "By Jove! Another case solved by the amazing mind of Mr. Sherlock Holmes!" "Right. Give us a fiver or I'll crap in your hat." "I 'aven't got a fiver!" "Very well, then . . . " ZIIIIIIP!! Now on BBC 2 a new program that's sure to amaze and delight you and make you forget that France is a mere 25 miles away . . . L E T ' S C R A P I N Y O U R H A T ! (APPLAUSE) Smarmy TV announcer: "Yes, yes, well played by a Mr. S. Holmes. -- mebbe a little preference for little boys and cocaine, but a great mind never-the-less. And now on our show, please welcome Mr. Tim Cancer of Ballsworth. 'ow are you then?" Tim: "I'm fine. Luv'ly day, innit? 'ere -- what's that man doin' over by me 'at?" Announcer: "Never mind that! I understand you have an interesting hobby, derailing British Rail commuter expresses." Tim: "I NEVER! Wha'? That man's taking down his trousers . . ." Announcer: "No he isn't!" Tim: "'e is so! Why's he squatting over me hat?!" Announcer: "Just a local custom. I understand you slept with Felicity Kendell." Tim: "'E JUST CRAPPED IN ME HAT!!!" (Applause) Announcer: "Another happy contestant. Now get sotted, you nasty little fox molester!" Tim: "Wha? Them photos was FAKED!" Announcer: "No they weren't either -- I had helpful and beloved Commander Data analyzed them photos, and it is indeed you engaging in completely undescribable vulpine harassing activities!" Tim: "KNARK!" Data: "It could be worse. I could sell Apple products . . ." Tim and Announcer: "EEEEEEeeeeeeeewwwwwwwww . . ." Data: "Here, do not forget your hat." (SPLAT!) I had ANOTHER dream. And, it too, was horrible. I was at work (and we all know why I'm not telling you where I work) when Harry Bawls, the local Crapple Rep., came back into the store. "Whazzup scuz?" I asked politely. "That's 'cuz' you dreary lad," he informed me. "Not in your case." "Boy, we got a new promo for the Apple II GS. A celebrity spokesperson!" "Who? Rin-Tin-Tin? That'd make sense, a dog for a dog!" "Silence you insolent youth!" "So what poor sod is whoring their talent to push that dog dump the Masters of Sunnyvale mistakenly call a computer?" "He's a political celebrity of the highest order! A man of his time! A thinker amoung men!" "So you guys got Dan Quayle, huh?" "Bingo, m' lad!" "Oh gawd." "He had nothing to do with it." "That's for damn sure. Okay Harry, what do the Masters of Sunnyvale want us to do?" "We want to bring Dan in the store and . . ." "FORGET IT! It took us WEEKS to clear the reek from that little mis-hap with the II GS: The Next Generation! Bring Danny Boy in here and we're gonna need an OCEAN of Lysol to remove the stench of bullshit from the store!" "Are you insinuating our beloved Ex-Vice President would speak anything but the truth?" "He's endorsing the GS, ain't he?" "Touche' you little bastard." "You better watch it, Harry. I'll bring that Compaq 486/50 over here..." "KEEP IT AWAY! KEEP IT AWAY!" "Thought so. If you ever got within 20 feet of a Compaq, that tiny wad of phlegm that's been acting as your enfeebled brain would burst into flames like the stinkin' Hindenburg." "Where did this firm acquire you from, lad? What happened to that nice salesperson who used to sell our products?" "Spontaneous human combustion -- he strayed too close to a Compaq. Lose more Crapple salesmen that way. They take one look at all the power and it simply overloads the few brain cells they have." "Where'd you say that 486/50 was again?" "It's close, Harry. Trust me, it's close. And if ya smart off again, I'll show you the product release for IBM's 586 board!" "That idle threat scares me not, lad. I know if IBM just sent out the product release, it'll be at least another year and a half before the item is actually in stores." "Well, ya got me there. HEY! Crapple should adopt that policy! That way people would have time to dig a slit trench or whatever else you're supposed to do when there's a major disaster." "Look lad, I want you to put some of these pamphlets on the shelf. It's Dan's endorsement of the II GS." "Lemme read that . . . HEY! This is from Rin-Tin-Tin, not Dan Quayle!" "Truth is not even Dan is dumb enough to endorse the GS!" And now . . . Number 30: Rin-Tin-Tin's endorsement of the II GS Rin-Tin-Tin's endorsement of the II GS Y'know, after a long afternoon of eating squirrels and biting non-whites in the crotch, there's nothing I like better than pinching off a nice, healthy log. Just kinda hunker down and push 'til I tremble. Makes life worth living. But what always amazes me is that afterwards some tech from Crapple will come streaking out from behind a tree yelling "Another CPU for a II GS!". ---- MEMO ---- From: The Masters of Sunnyvale To: All Authorized Crapple Dealers Subject: Verboten Vocabulary. Is nicht on der speken uf: o Crap (nope) o Utter crap (nien) o Complete and utter crap (nyte) o Garbage (not even) o 2 MHz (iz nitch on der speken of this vun) o Cash refund (iz especially nicht on der speken of zis) o Dog turd (don't you do it) o Consumer protection legislation (say it and you'll go the camp) o Richard M. Nixon (well . . . a little is ok) o Compaq (absolutely none of this!) o Steve Wozniak sucks the shmegma from slimey green donkey dicks! o Hey! Who put that in there? o What? o THAT! ^ o "Hey! Who put that in there?"? o NO! The other one! o The "what" part? o No no no! You know! o Uh, 'fraid I don't, guv. o The thing about donkey dicks! o "Steve Wozniak sucks the shmegma from slimey green donkey dicks"? o SHHHHHHHHHHH! o That it then, innit? o Yes! I wonder who put that in there? o Hey, who's that bloke in the "Compaq" shirt? o I dunno . . . HEY! WHAT'S THAT IN HIS HAND?! o It's a Compaq Systempro Quad 486!!! o ROTTEN BLOODY CHRIST!! * * * huh-BOOOM! * * * crackle-crackle-crackle "It's burst into flames! It crashin and falling! And all of humanity with it! Flames, some nearly an inch high! The shrieks of the . . . oh - it's out now." This famous broadcast and scores of others just like it can now be yours to listen to and enjoy in the comfort of your own home, barn or outhouse! Scam-Tech proudly announces (for those of you who are not in law enforcement): GREAT ANTI-CLIMAXES OF HISTORY! Thrill to men almost landing on the moon! "Uh roger, Huston, one-niner-six, 5 yards and descending . . . a little to the right now [beep] . . . 3 yards . . . picking up a little dust. Firing jets . . . 1 yard . . . we're in shadow now [beep!] . . . contact! Roger, Huston - the Eagle has landed. Oh shit, we're in Cleveland!" Get all hot and breathy as the Japanese nearly attack Pearl Harbor! "And here come the Japanese planes! Score of Zero's filling the air! This is Hickam Field! We're . . . oh, they've gone now. Nevermind." Become nearly orgasmic as the first atomic bomb doesn't explode! "7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . " [dead silence] ". . . bummer, dude." Eject long, ragged spurts of seminal fluid as Mike's Madness comes to an end! (push the button, Frank) Assorted offensive tripe keyed in by no other than: Mike Beebe. ----- (C) 1993 Yucks for You, Inc. Mike's Madness is written by Mike Beebe. Mike currently has no internet mailing address. Send all feedback to and it will be forwarded. Back-issues: anonymous ftp from (128.227.224.1) in directory /pub/mikesmad. (Thanks, Eric!) Mailing list additions/deletions: