Welcome to the 13 Dec 2000 archive of Stream - you can click the planet to the left to get back to Jimbo's World if you're lost.

That's right, baby it's Haunted Ninja Nun Walrus Fuckers - Episode Two.

Keith and Rob should really like this one.

And speaking of Rob... dude, if you didn't wanna see novelty acts and posers, why were you watching VH-1?

...whether reenacting scenes from Monty Python with your Lego set is cool or just plain gay.

There's also a Matrix knockoff, and a Desperado knockoff.

In other news, Lenny Kravitz is still just a novelty act, and has been ever since "Are You Gonna Go My Way?".::clicks off VH1::

[ From The Principia Discordia ]
by Camden Benares, the Count of Five Headmaster, Camp Meeker Cabal

A serious young man found the conflicts of mid-20th Century America confusing. He went to many people seeking a way of resolving withn himself the discords that troubled him, but he remained troubled.

One night in a coffee house, a self-ordained Zen Master said to him, "Go to the dilapidated mansion you will find at this address which I have written down for you. Do not speak to those who live there; you must remain silent until the moon rises tomorrow night. Go to the large room on the right of the main hallway, sit in the lotus position on top of the rubble in the northeast corner, face the corner, and meditate."

He did as the Zen Master instructed. His meditation was frequently interruped by worries. He worried whether or not the rest of the plumbing fixtures would fall from the second floor bathroom to join the pipes and other trash he was sitting on. He worried how would he know when the moon rose on the next night. He worried about what the people who walked through the room said about him.

His worrying and meditation were disturbed when, as if in a test of his faith, ordure fell from the second floor onto him. At that time two people walked into the room. The first asked the second who the man sitting there was. The second replied "Some say he is a holy man. Others say he is a shithead."

Hearing this, the man was enlightened.

Hail Eris! All Hail Discordia! Hail Yes!

You think I'm cryptic, Frosty? Well, maybe I am and maybe I amn't.

::smokes crack, has sex with Dijon, France::

Smile, motherfucker.   (I actually posted the update this morning around 3AM, I just waited 'til now to pimp it.  Eat that, McNally!)

Incidentally, is it just me, or is Baldie going for the (nonexistent) Jimbo's World Cryptic Post Of The Year 2000 award...?

You know, I'm tired of CNN too.   Let those fuckers do the work.

The original MAME is a DOS program, but don't feel left out if you're not running a Win98 machine - there are ports to ungodly numbers of platforms that are nearly as up-to-date as the DOS version.  There are ports to Win32 (necessary if you run NT or 2000 like I do), Unix, Macintosh, and even some frickin' digital cameras, believe it or not!

But this is actually just background information.  I didn't really want to talk to you about MAME, I wanted to talk to you about a particular arcade game that MAME emulates... so set the WayBack machine for 1990, Sherman, 'cause we're gonna take ourselves a little trip.

I bet a bunch of you never saw this one in the arcade - I did, but god knows not all that often.  That's right, it's "Michael Jackson's Moonwalker" - not one of Sega's proudest moments in videogaming history. The premise is that you help Michael - who can make the bad guys do a magic dance (and promptly die of shame as soon as the dance is done) - find lots and lots of children in bondage.  Oh yeah, and if you manage to find Bubbles the chimp, he will magically morph you into "android Michael", who has big zappy lasers. No, I'm not, repeat, not, kidding.  Not even about the "children in bondage" part - the entire point of the game is that you go touch these little urchins, who are hogtied and struggling and calling your (well, Michael's) name.

help michael find children in bondage!

		I know those of you that never saw this game in real life probably think I'm making this shit up.  You'd definitely think I was making it all up if I told you that I had undoctored game footage of Michael in an alleyway, first deftly avoiding getting assaulted with a five-foot metal cock, then immediately returning the favor to a little boy huddled up against a streetlight... Well, mouseover the shot to the left.  Think your eyes deceived you?  Mouseover it again.  Think I busted out my m4d 3d1t1ng sk1llz?  Get MAME, go to www.mame.dk and download the MoonWalker ROMs... And never doubt me again.

Ahhh, Keith-san assures me that he has located and is sending me three, count 'em, three varieties of the most horrifying candy in (or out of) Nature, TAMARIND.  (The candy most vilified by bad-candy.com!)   God, I can't wait.

My buddy Dave and I used to go to gas stations and pick out the most horrid looking beverages they possessed - you know, the ones that have an odd sort of color, possibly globby bits like a lava lamp (Orbitz!), and don't look "herbal" so much as "conceived by, concocted by, and only even theoretically drinkable by, a person tokin' on some serious herb."  I miss that - somehow, it's just not quite the same without a friend retarded enough to go in search of the foulest soft drinks known to man.  We'd sometimes drive 30 or 40 miles outside of town to some gas station in the middle of podunk, just because one of us discovered it had a particularly good (!) selection of quasi-potable oddities.

What's the point of this rambling anecdote?   That I am prepared for Tamarind, baybee.  Ready and rarin' to go!   And don't forget, I'm gonna share my horrifying experience vicariously with all you fuckers via the new webcam.

Vive la Tamarind!

(Incidentally, the only beverage that Dave and I were unable to even make a noticeable dent in a can/bottle of - much less, god forbid, drink the whole thing, which is what we usually did - was a 12 ounce can of liquid hell, aka Redstone Cola.  You would think that something labeled "cola" would be pretty safe, especially when viewed in the same context as "drinkable" lava lamps - but it's not.  That shit is hideous, yo.)

I've been smoking a lot of weed lately, partly for inspiration for my Pulitzer-worthy serial fiction and the other reason being that all the cool kids are doing it. Besides stunted lung capacity and a strong urge to vote Nader (wait, did I miss the election? Dude!) I'm experiencing increased clarity of thought and the ability to see the root meanings behind things that were once unkonwn to me. This morning's profound revelation was this:

Flowers are the genitalia of the plant world.

"Duh", you say, "everybody who graduated junior high knows that". True. What really struck me was the symbolism of flowers in relation to that fact. Women the world over think it is romantic to have plants castrated in their honor and to have the remains of those castrations presented to them. Flowers are nature's penises.

Yet I suppose it's only natural to exchange bouquets of reproductive organs as a prelude to the person-to-person bumping of uglies that (hopefully) comes later.

I spoke with Pastor Nimrod over at the Christians Against Humor Homepage. I mentioned to the Good Pastor that I was now posting on Jimbo's World, a popular E/N site, and, well, he was appalled..

This site is despicable, disgusting, and immoral. I cannot believe that such a Good Christian Boy as yourself would become so involved with such a den of iniquity.

So, I made the suggestion to the Good Pastor that he might want to do a tandem column with the (rather slow) Professor St0ner column (totally without consulting Jimbo, I might add), and he had this to say:

I believe that would be a good idea--you owe it to your readers to allow me to try to save their souls from eternal hellfire. And I want a cool header graphic.

So, Jimbo, what do you say?

Jimbo sez:  I say the cocksucker can come up with
his own header graphic.  After that, well, we'll see.

I've taken a new band under my wing, known across the neighborhood as The Spungos. I'm hosting their debut release, "There's No Such Band as the Spungos", which may seem like a hastily put together piece of shit (that appears to be printed on some kind of cracker), but I can assure you that it's not. Of special significance is their lead single, an extended cover of the famous Booty Call tune "I'm Jake". Download it and bliss out to the smooth, smooth beats...

Check it.

My grandfather has begun to read this page. I actually linked him--I wanted him to read my novella. He didn't like some of the profanity on the main page, so here's a little post on cursing.

It doesn't really matter. In three years, you'll be allowed to say "shit" on national TV. In six, you'll be able to say "fuck". Freudian profanity is on the way out. The new "motherfucker" is "nigger".

Jimbo sez:  Yeah, but I'll still be able to say "shut up, cracker."

That's right, folks - it's the highly-touted, long-awaited seminal installment of Haunted Ninja Nun Walrus Fuckers, by our very own Chess Piece "I have no respect for my fellow posters" Face.   Sex!  Ghetto Rap!  Drugs!  WALRUSES!!!

Okay, so there's only one walrus.  Click here anyway, 'kay?

I knew the Final Fantasy movie was going to be great, but I thought for sure we'd see a sort of computer-generated anime theme.

Holy fucking fuck.

Computer graphics always give me a bit of a thrill, whether it's the comically obese Jabba or the great SFX in The Matrix. But this movie is fucking ridiculous. I like to think that I know the difference between computer-generated actors and human actors, but I guess not.

And they actually have some big names--Alec Baldwin, James Woods, Donald Sutherland, Ving Rhames, and Steve Buscemi are the best known actors, and the heroine is voiced by Ming-Na (from Disney's Mulan.

You thought Titan AE had some great space battles.. well, if Final Fantasy continues the graphic precedent of the games, you're in for quite a treat.

The movie comes out in summer 2001. I'll be waiting in line starting in spring 2001.

The latest updates to Smile and The Conscious Beast are posted, with a hearty apology to Rob (and a hearty "fuck you" to that dirty Canadian) as regards my tardiness.

Incidentally, Keith, I agree with that guy in your forum - you should repost Mankind Is Without Flaw here.  I really liked it.

Gainesville, FL recently passed a flyer ban prohibiting the posting of any printed material on public property such as telephone poles. The interesting thing is that the penalty is applied not to the anonymous poster-hanger, but to the person or business that the flyer is advertising for. Two warnings, and then a $1000 fine, and then 30 days in jail.

So, the local members of the SAP (Students Against Protests) (title subject to change) have decided to take action in supporting this flyer ban. We'll be hanging posters and flyers to support the flyer ban, and they'll all say "SUPPORT THE GAINESVILLE POLICE DEPARTMENT AND THE FLYER BAN!".

And if any particular officers trouble us?

"OFFICER SMITH--GOOD JOB! YOU HAVE MADE A GREAT CONTRIBUTION TO OUR SOCIETY! GIVE THAT MAN A RAISE!"

Too bad they thought to suspend it for all political signs before the election--GPD might have had to arrest George W Bush, Al Gore, and Ralph Nader. Buchanan probably would have gotten away with a warning.

Okay folks, we've got another chunk o' serial fiction goodness for you - it was supposed to go up Friday, but hey, what the hell, it was Turkey Day weekend.  Anyway, our new contender is The Conscious Beast, a novella by our very own Reverend Rob "Baldghoti" Tobias.   A new chapter of The Conscious Beast will be up every Friday, from here on out.   Since it's Monday today, there's also a new installment of Smile up - but that part's not late.  Well, no later than Keith, anyway, which I guess isn't saying too much, but hey...

One day, a bear is chasing a rabbit hell-for-leather through the woods.  Finally, after a long hard chase, it looks like the bear is about to catch him - but the rabbit stumbles over something half-buried in the trail and goes flying, and the bear stumbles over it behind him and falls on his ass too.  Before they can get up and start running again, a great cloud of purple smoke fills the air - they tripped over a magic djinni lamp!

The djinni says "Since the two of you are equally responsible for freeing me, you each may have your three fondest wishes granted - but be careful, for once you have made a wish, it cannot be undone."

The bear immediately pipes up and says "I'm going first!"  The djinni looks at the rabbit, but the rabbit just shrugs, so the djinni asks the bear "what is your first wish?"  The bear replies, "I want every other bear in the world to be female."  "Done!" exclaims the djinni.  "I want all those female bears to be in heat every day of the year," says the bear.  "Done!  And your last wish, effendi?" says the djinni.  "I want to be the horniest bear the world has ever seen!" shouts the bear triumphantly.  "Done!"

The djinni then turns to the rabbit, saying "and your first wish, effendi?"  "I want a motorcycle," says the rabbit.  "Done!" proclaims the djinni, and a rabbit-sized Harley appears.   The bear says "Man, rabbits are stupid.  You get three wishes, and the best thing you can come up with is a motorcycle?"  The rabbit snarls "fuck you, bear," climbs on, and kick-starts his hog.  "Your second wish, effendi?" asks the djinni.  "I want a motorcycle helmet."   "Done!" says the djinni, and a helmet appears on the rabbit's head.   "Man, you just don't get any smarter.  What a retard!" says the bear.  "Fuck off," snarls the rabbit, as he blips the throttle.   "And your final wish, effendi?"

"I wish that fucking bear was gay!"

And with that, the rabbit dumps the clutch and hauls ass down the trail.

Saturday Night Live, a show not usually known for particularly dark humor, was guested by Tom Green, a comic noted for his absurd antics and not his dark humor, this Saturday night.

This television show was perhaps the single most darkly comic hour and a half I've ever seen on television. With a Dog Show sketch gone horribly wrong, an Oprah parody with only a few one-liners tossed in, almost as a concession, and a promised wedding at the end of the show (for Tom Green and fiancee Drew Barrymore) had a totally straightfaced cast abandoning him at the altar as he's jilted, one has to wonder what the hell Lorne Michaels was thinking. I love Saturday Night Live, and I love Tom Green, but... well, I like pickles and I like ice cream, but I wouldn't try to mix them together.

  Validate this site's existence.  Affirm your own.
         Glorify mine.  Sign the guestbook.