"Men looking at attractive naked women is a very biological thing."
Mickey "The Monkee" Dolenz



In response to the "EAT ME" observation of Planets past, Bob "Caesar's Writers" Claster writes: "The best was when whoever was the spokesperson for Reagan was denying his involvement in Iran-Contra. He was standing in front of the logo that read: 'The White House, Washington DC' -- and all you could see behind him was: 'The White Washing...'

Brian Westley is also an observant cuss and says: "I've noticed in the last couple of Northern Sun Alliance catalogs (it has T-shirts, buttons, posters, etc, of a politically leftist tilt), that their 'Celebrate Diversity' T-shirt isn't available in 'Small'...

Merle "X" Reagle, r-e-sponding, no doubt to the recent outbreak of anagram-itis on the Planet, eXclaims that -- "glibness" is a mixed "blessing," and daverave sent us "the funniest headline ever" from the NY Daily News: "OI VEY IS MIR." Well, I said this several times in front of witnesses, but like my Tyson "prediction" it probably doesn't count...

And speaking of the ex-chomp, Diana Waggoner offers this tasty tidbit: "Tyson to Van Gogh: Gonna eat that?"




Contributor (and writer!) Richard Dubin sent this, from "Science In Brief" in the LA Times titled "Writers Prone to Psychosis and Depression" in which British psychiatrist Dr. Felix Post says that being a writer of any sort is linked to poor mental health.

In the British Journal of Psychiatry he writes that "poets had more mood swings and manic depression needing hospitalization than authors or playwrights, but they were less likely to die young or be promiscuous. Only 31% of the poets were alcoholics, compared to 54% of playwrights. According to his study, psychosis or depression was evident in 80% of poets, 80.5% of novelists and 87.5% of playwrights. Half the poets failed to ever achieve 'complete sexual union,' while 42% of playwrights were known for their sexual promiscuity."




The population of this country is 237 million. 104 million are retired. That leaves 133 million to do the work. There are 85 million in school, which leaves 48 million to do the work. Of this there are 29 million employed by the federal government. This leaves 19 million to do the work. Four million are in the Armed Forces, which leaves 15 million to do the work. Take from the total the 14,800,000 people who work for State and City Government and that leaves 200,000 to do the work. There are 188,000 in hospitals, so that leaves 12,000 to do the work. Now there are 11,998 people in Prisons. That leaves just two people to do the work. You and me. And you're reading email. No wonder I'm tired; I'm doing ALL of the work myself.

(The ABLAZE Group, Inc. @ www.ablazegroup.com)





Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bedsheets, Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets:
Having reached the bottom line, I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command
But got instead a reprimand:
It read "Abort, Retry, Ignore".




Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed my options. These three seemed to be the top ones.
Clearly, I must now adopt one....
Choose: "Abort, Retry, Ignore".




With my fingers pale and trembling, Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, Finally I pressed a key....
But on the screen what did I see?
Again: "Abort, Retry, Ignore".




I tried to catch the chips off-guard.... I pressed again, but twice as hard.
Luck was just not in the cards, I saw what I had seen before.
Now I typed in desperation, Trying random combinations.
Still there came the incantation....
Choose: "Abort, Retry, Ignore".




There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted;
Getting up, I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw an awful sight, A bold and blinding flash of light,
A lightning bolt that cut the night and shook me to my very core.
The PC screen collapsed and died, "Oh no....my database", I cried.
I thought I heard a voice reply,
"You'll see your data....Nevermore!"




To this day I do not know, The place to which our data goes.
Perhaps it goes to Heaven where the angels have it stored.
But as for productivity....well, I fear it has gone straight to Hell.
And that's the tale I have to tell....
Your choice: "Abort, Retry, Ignore."

(From Magic Mike - a poet among magicians.)1

[Editorial Footnote: the implication here is that "Magic Mike" wrote this poem, when in fact he probably didn't. There are dozens of versions of this poem on the Internet, all attributed to "anonymous." - RJA, ed.]




Government: not the solution, but the problem - Learn from your parents' mistakes. Use birth control! - Friends help you move. Real friends help you move bodies - No, I'm not an elitist. Why do you ask, peasant? - Smokey the Bear says, "Strip mining prevents forest fires." - The most affectionate creature is the wet dog - Computing is a terminal condition - My superiority complex is better than yours! - "Hey, can I get something to drink?" Socrates - Everything's falling into place. On top of me - I won't rise to the occasion, but I'll slide over to it - Hard work has a future payoff. Laziness pays off now - Boldly going forward because we can't find reverse - Karaoke is the Japanese word for "tone deaf." - What is a "free gift?" Aren't all gifts free? - Cats know how we feel. They don't give a damn, but they know - I love cats. They taste just like chicken.




Plays Shakespeare Chose Not to Publish








Yes, I'm referring to the Millenium again... Nick Vermeulen has the largest collection of air-sickness bags in the world, according to the Guinness book of records as reported in the L.A.T. by John Morrell. Mark laughed last at "Independence Day" (The Movie) when they showed the Presidential seal on a barf bag. The real thing, you see, doesn't have one...

And speaking of Independence, the bikers who showed up for the 50th Anniversary of the "Battle of Hollister" on July Fourth were apparently a bunch of "Hell's Pussies." Locals beamed as they skimmed off the cream: "I'd rather have 50,000 bikers than 50,000 construction workers or lawyers...!" And referring to the late Wild One, "Wino" Willie Forkner, fellow Hell's (but not yet an) Angel Jim Hickman gushed: "He was really a kind-hearted big softy who would kill anyone who messed with his friends."

According to Michael Krikorian's L.A. Times article, some of the bikers enjoyed a buffet of grilled fresh salmon, tri-tip, pasta and salads. As a Texas Boozefighter called "Rebel'' explained "We're wild, not barbaric." (Who needs lawyers?) Krickorian also quotes a nearby resident who whined, "It would have been nice to have seen some riots...it's kind of disappointing." To which a Salinas patrolman responded, "What an idiot."




Saw a billboard today that proclaims: "Because our knives can't cut the glare." It's for "Swiss Army Knife Brand Sunglasses." (I "cut" you not...)

As one of the Pathfinder principals observed, "The Mars site is a Rock Festival." Yeah. The rover is really rockin' and rollin'...

Daily Variety reports that Joe Pesci pitched a version of Dickens' "A Christmas Carol in which he would play a mob numbers runner "whose rejection of the Christmas spirit comes back to haunt him..." Island Pictures mob boss Mark Burg caught it.

And finally, here's a fond and funny farewell to France's leading female clown, Annie Fratelli.


*A subscription to the Fun and Foto-packed FIREZINE is only $15.00!!! Send that check to PO Box 585, Hagerstown, MD 21741-0585.


 Published 7/9/97

1996/2002 by Phil Proctor