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pg. 9. . .The such c1997-1998 Mongoose Type Entertainment |
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"It's very admirable to be idealistic." pg. 9 First off, you are to be notified that in the last issue of SDM, a lot of stuff was missing. Most importantly, credit where credit's due. Last week's editorial response was written by Antihero, but due to rush circumstances, his name was omitted. Second, we have also began a serial. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, beginning in issue 6, Cindy, the Deranged Interpretation of some other story begins. We are also currently looking for some talent. However, we will settle for you. If you'd like to write with SDM, send word here. pg. 257 Everybody out there seems to be asking: "Mr. Ton, whats your next step in saving the planet?" Well, my response to them is: call me "G." But if you really want to know what my next step is, Ill tell you. Lets get rid of celebrity spokespeople. First off, Im sick and tired of seeing people use crap theyre only paid to use, and furthermore it costs people more money to see some babbling moron that they worship hock goods that normally they dont need. I know thats the entire purpose, but like the celebrity saturated commercial says, "Image is nothing." I suppose thats why they have the nicest guy in the NBA (surely theres no image there) to make an attempt at getting a bunch of brain dead children to buy a drink almost taste at all. You hear all of these athletes talk about how they want to do something good for the community. Subliminally stealing money doesnt strike me as a good thing. Im not just talking about commercialism here. Im talking about EVERYTHING! The PSAs are the worst. I suppose that since Gods gift to television drama says I should stay in school, Im supposed to do it. Will that help me make $1 million an episode? Neither will helping to fix a strangers flat tire. It might get me killed, but it wont get me on a television show. I suppose since these supposedly cool people do it, I should do it, right? No. In fact, thats a good reason why I shouldnt do it. Most celebrities strike me as pricks. If I went homeless, the only celebrity Id see is Paul Newman on a can of something. That is unless, its someone on community service. In which case, I have no desire meet up with drug consuming alcoholic with access to a gun. c 1997 G. Nih Ton. All rights reserved. pg. 522 The most pressing problem we are facing today is not drugs. Nor is it poverty. It's not even racism. The biggest problem is far more important than any of those. That problem is UBS, or Ugly Baby Syndrome. UBS is an immunity problem. It means that your baby is immune to in-the-face discussion of how ugly he or she is. No one comes up to parents in the mall and says, "You know that is the ugliest damn baby I have ever seen. What in the hell happened?" Why not? Well, it's because of UBS. It prevents people from doing such things. Of course it wears off around age four when the child comes into contact with strange children, the only group who can resist UBS. Children can see through bullshit, you know. There are a lot of people out there who think they can resist UBS. No one can, that's the sad part. Biker gangs can't. Klansmen can't (well, sort of). Neither can Pat Buchanan or Bob Dole. What we need is a cure. Why? Because this is the only way to prevent the second biggest problem facing us today. WSMK Syndrome. You may know of this as Wanna See My Kids Syndrome. If people got it through they're heads that they're kids weren't the next JonBenet Ramsey or Shirley Temple, we would be able to read the magazines at the doctor's office in peace. It doesn't matter if the children are ugly or not, don't let them think the children are "so cute" or "just plain adorable." If you do, you'll regret it later. You'll never be able to finish a magazine article in peace. pg. 1999 The most difficult question I have that has ever been asked of me was who would I kill over first: my child or my dog? Well, I've never had a child, but I can still tell you that the answer would have to be my dog. I'm not some cold and heartless bastard, but I know for a fact, that until that child turn 12, he is of no use to me. But a dog, on the other hand is useful as soon as he gets done milking. Dogs are always cute, even when they're wreaking havoc. A child isn't cute when covered with food. Dogs bark, children scream. I can always let the dog out of the house. I have to stay awake with the little tyke. Who needs to get their diapers changed? Who costs more money? Who yells, "Daddy I hate you, you insufferable sonuvabitch! I want to borrow the fucking car. Why can't I do a damn thing? Let me go out or I'll kill you!" Sure, not all children say that, but it's just an example. What I'm trying to say is this: children are a pain in the ass when compared to a dog. It takes a year to get a dog in check. It takes a lifetime to get your children there. I can't expect women to understand something like this, since dogs are "man's best friend." And they shouldn't expect me to cherish my child over a dog, because they gave birth to the child. I would gladly do the same... for my dog. Children are just too damn big. Notice that I'm not saying I wouldn't be upset over the loss of a child. If it was mine, there is a possibility that I would get pissed, but it is much easier to replace a child than it is to replace a good dog. Unless, the dog was a chihuahua or a shitzu, I'd kill the sonuvabitch who killed my dog. On the other hand, I would drive my wife to a the place where she could kill the bastard who shot our child, assuming it was mine. Another point of mine, it is much easier to determine if a dog is yours than it is to determine if a child is. I can easily point out 5 kids who look as if they might be mine, but I have yet to see a dog that looks like its mine. I hope you see my point. Really I do, because I am done. pg. 29 "Cindy!! CINDY!!!! Where ARE you, you stupid bitch?!?!?!?" She heard her Step- Mother screeching at her. She tried to ignore it, but she knew she'd be in for another beating if she let it go on too long. God, how she wished her father were still alive. At least he didn't yell at her. She missed him coming to her room every night. "I'm coming!" she yelled back, trying to sound sweet. It was getting harder to fake. Cindy finished wringing out her SM's underwear and headed for the stairs. On her way up, she wondered why she just didn't kick the shit out of her SM once and for all. She came around the corner just in time to see something that gave her nightmares. Her SM was buck-ass naked. All shriveled up and sagging. Cindy shuddered, focused her eyes on the floor and entered her SM's bedroom. "It's about fucking time!" her SM shouted. "I want you to give me a sponge bath." Cindy gagged. "Be sure you use a soft cloth. Not that abrasive sponge. You KNOW it bruises my delicate skin." "Yes, Step-Mother. Let me go get the tub. I'll be right back." She walked out of the room and ran to the bathroom where she promptly threw up in the sink. She pulled the huge washtub from the hall closet, set it on the floor and filled it up with scalding water. She knew it would be cool by the time she got it to her SM's room. As she worked, she thought. Her thoughts were interrupted by a banging on the doorjamb. "Are you too stupid to use the bath tub? Oh, wait. I wouldn't want to put my ass anywhere yours has been." Her step-sister Selma sneered. "Step-Mother wants a sponge bath," Cindy replied. "You poor slut.. I would kill not to have to give my mother a bath. I almost feel sorry for you... NOT!" Selma cackled. Cindy turned off the water and started dragging the tub out of the bathroom, attempting to knock Selma over in the process. Cindy only succeeded in sloshing some water on her step-sister. "You STUPID WHORE!!!!" Selma screeched. Like mother like daughter, Cindy thought. "I'm so sorry, Selma. Will you please move so I can pass? Selma slapped Cindy full across the cheek, leaving an angry red hand print. Just then Val showed up. Cindy stood with the intention of beating the shit out of Selma. Val glared at Cindy. "Don't even THINK about it, bitch! I'll knock you so far down you'll wish you were buried with your pervert father!" Val said in a menacing voice. Then the doorbell rang. Step-Mother, Selma and Val almost went tumbling down the stairs when they collided. All three scrambling like that. Cindy put both hands over her mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. She watched the three of them struggle to be the first one at the door. "And I'M the dumb bitch," she thought. Shaking her head, she continued to drag the tub to SM's room. By the time she got it through the door, all three of the bitches she lived with started screaming orders at her. "Now what?" she thought. "Cindy, get your ass down here!" SM shouted. "Cindy, get your pattern books out!" Yelled Val. "Cindy, get me some coffee!" Selma screeched. Cindy trotted downstairs to find out what the hell was going on now. SM, Val and Selma were babbling and gibbering amongst themselves until they noticed her. "John Prince is having a Halloween Ball and my daughters are to attend. He wants to find a wife for his son Bubba," SM said. "He's gonna pick me!" Selma and Val argued with each other. "I'll go get my books and meet you in the dining room. How much time do we have to get the costumes done?" asked Cindy. "Two weeks from tomorrow," SM replied. Cindy dashed up to her attic bedroom to grab her pattern books. pg. 007 WARNING: the following article contains optimistic tendencies Since it seems to be en vogue for our faithful critics to blame us for complaining, but never doing a damn thing about it, I finally decided to cover a topic that we can actually do something about, but of course most people could care less about since they feel it doesn't affect them. Homelessness. I don't feel it necessary to brag about what I have done, but I will tell you it is never enough. My only part in stopping the problem is to give money to those who beg. I know what your thinking: they'll go out and buy alcohol. So. But that's not stopping the problem, is it? No, but if that's what they do with it, then it's helping them to cope with a problem that may or may not be their fault, because if we wait for the shelters to do something we sure as hell won't see the problem end any faster. If I ever had enough money when approached, I would go and get them a meal at a restaurant, because I don't trust the shelters when all I'm doing is looking to help one person at a time. I don't want to be far removed from a problem by just donating to some faceless charity. Sure, I could help out at a shelter, but I'll be honest with you. I wouldn't feel comfortable there. Far too much depression, and I want a person to know that somebody cares about them, and pouring soup into a bowl doesn't exactly do that. I'd much rather seek out a person and give it to him or her instead taking it to a clothes drop. Then again, that's just me. pg. 16 I've just gone back to school, and already I have homework. And, if you are like me, you don't want any part of it. Im busy, and I have other things to do, like smarting off to everyone. I don't even get the whole concept of homework. The very name doesn't make any sense, if you think about it. You aren't working on your home. You are working at home, but you don't get paid. So what is it then? Here is a good name for it: stupidity. All that homework does is take up everyone's time, by going over for the 12 millionth time something you probably learned to do last year, and have reviewed in class for an hour that day. I say: screw the homework, tell what we are supposed to know then have a test over it later on! Is that so hard? pg. 113.5 In our continuing mission to control the world through the media, we are once again doing our best to dictate what you think. This isn't just blatant mind games, but subliminal suggestion as well. Just remember that the SDM loves you. Always. Peace be with you brothers and sisters. Without further ado, the movie asshole list. Meaning: what actors do the best job of portraying assholes on the big screen. 1. Bill Murray (Kingpin, Groundhog's Day) Since we're beyond bored, just send in the names of people you think have sold out. Send the names here. pg. 4 As promised, here is Editorials:
Since responses are needed, here goes one, as written by Paul B. Whitley, SDM's ardent supporter: "First off, let's handle this whole website dispute. Both of our sites aim to attract two different audiences (You, the young and irritating. Us, the not so young and irritable). As for set up, we're not attempting to attract anybody with graphics. I don't know what the hell "gen-x" graphics are, but the "webmaster" is into that MTV style of filmmaking, so that's what inspired him. It's no insult, because WE here at SDM like the feel of it. If any of our readers are insulted by this, then so fucking be it, we aren't here to please anybody. As for our "complaining," I don't see us bitching about shit you can you just help end. Racism will go on no matter what. Women will still have abortions. Corporations will continue to fuck you in the ass. It goes on. If we did try to stop some of this stuff, then we may end up no better than the things we set out to change. As for that killing remark. It was a J-O-K-E, you know C-O-M-E-D-Y? As for Antihero (he who responded) or any of us here being jocks, I think not. I don't think grades matter either, because I believe we are some of the best writers out there. Your so-called definition of a jock would probably include poor spelling and grammar, concepts I see you're not entirely unfamiliar with. Nobody here at SDM is rich or riding that proverbial easy ride. If we were, I assure you SDM would not exist in the manner it does today. As for your "sand nigger" slur, anybody who feels the need to subjugate a group of people for the sole purpose of proving a point is worse than the racist who uses terms like that in sincerity. In fact, you're probably worse since you don't mind putting down a race just so you feel good in putting down something as insignificant as SDM. We're not attempting to "save" you or anybody else from society. We can't stop anything in this world from happening and as far as what we write, I don't think we'll try. There's nothing in this world worth saving. I'm probably speaking for myself, but this thing doesn't exist for controversy. We don't make anything controversial, it's the people who read it that make it controversial (i.e., Marilyn Manson & Gangsta Rap). We don't alter our styles for the sole purpose of shock value. THAT would be an insult to us and the reader. I never saw any of this like a circus (except for getting everything up and out and I don't think you or your friends could handle our total possession of knowledge. We're just too unfunny.), but thanks. Much love. "One more thing, I would feel much safer living in the Middle East (I guess you have family that live there, otherwise you wouldn't have told us how bad it really is.) than in the 60s south. Get a taste of reality, kid, it still exists today." pg. 1 Okay, today I couldn't help myself. You'll note that usually my column is reserved for something along the line of movies, television, and whatever else slackers do to waste time. I have to break the mold today, rebel against the establishment, and discuss music. Or, to be more specific, probably the biggest crock since the last season of SeaQuest. Now, I've long considered VH1 to be crap, but they always had more a sense of dignity than MTV. Which is to say that up until now they hadn't done anything really outrageously stupid. Then they drop the big one on us. The mother load. Just after we nearly got over the shame the 80's left behind, VH1 brings back our favorite muppets: Milli the grouch and Vinilliupagous. And they aren't brought in to pooh-pooh anyone out there, put them on the proverbial "Don't let this happen to you" sign. Nope, no way, that would be doing the work of disgrace for them. They want us to hear THEIR story. I may just end up watching it. Think about it: if you really needed a laugh, who would you depend on more for it Letterman, Leno, or Milli Vanilli? There is nothing else I can write about this. Personally, I'm astonished. Really, that they would come out of their holes when it couldn't possibly make any difference to the American people but shovel a little more bullshit on top of everything else they hear on television. Who can explain this rationale to me? They have a hit single, win a grammy, lose the grammy when exposed as frauds, then fade away. If anything it was the perfect plan, but now they've come back so we can all watch them burn. Funny thing is, they act like we CARE. As though we'll forgive them now and say "gosh, guys. I had you pegged wrong. You weren't really lip-synching, you were just under so much pressure, being useless philandering leeches and all, that those facial spasms were really going out of control. I apologize if just looking at you made me squeamish, if I had known, I would have duct taped burnt twine to MY head like that, too. Style never dies." Hey man, it was a wild trip, but it's finally done, and we just hope the bad acid didn't get to your side of the den. Just make sure you don't mess with the green stuff.
Not to sound corporate or anything, but this is the way it goes. The newsletter and its concept belongs to Mongoose Type Entertainment. Anything written belongs to the respective authors, so please don't go ripping any of us off. We're not getting paid for this, and you shouldn't either, so don't be an asshole, go write something yourself. Give credit where credit's due. Everyone here does what seems to be a good job, so all we're asking is that you respect that. Somewhere, a child is crying. |
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