------------------------------------------------------------------------- Warning: This issue of NutWorks contains material which may offend some readers. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- @@@ @@@@ @@@ @@@@ @@@ @@@@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@@@@@ @@ @ @@ @@@@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@@@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@@@ @@@@ @@ @@@ @@@ @@@@ @@@@ @@ @@@ @@ @@@ @@@@ @@@ @@@ @@@ Electronic Humor Magazine. Issue024, (Volume VI, Number IV). July, 1988. NutWorks is published semi-monthly-ish by Brent C.J. Britton, ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mary had an aeroplane Around the world she'd whisk. Wasn't she a silly girl Her little * ? ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Contents ======== NewsWorks ...................... Points of Interest The Shit List .................. Dictionary The Return of the Two-dollar Hangover .......... Story Great Exam Lies ................ Observations Rules for Writers .............. Essay Ouch, Mosquito ................. Poem The View from Up Here .......... Essay The Orbs of Oppenheimre ........ Story God: The Ultimate Autobiography ................ Book Review The Committee .................. Poem ------------------------------------------------------------------------- NewsWorks ========= Agent 3 stood motionless in the dark cellar, hidden from the stairway by one of the many partially dismembered corpses hanging from the ceiling. Suddenly, the door slowly creaked open, and Agent 3's gut tightened as he heard the descending footfalls. He'd been waiting for this moment for the past eight months, but now, all was lost. It would be only a matter of seconds before the man he was supposed to kill would find him hiding here, helpless. Agent 3 had broken into this forsaken place only an hour ago, and it was only after any chance of leaving again was lost that he had realized to his horror that he had lost his bullet clip somewhere outside. His only chance now was to bluff. He reaffirmed his grip on his empty .357, and counted. Four more steps before the evil Dr. Flambe reached the bottom, when Agent 3 would whirl around, squeeze his trigger, and end the deadly criminal's miserable life. At least, that would have been the plan had he not lost his shells. Now, all he could hope to do is bluff long enough to get out. He had a plan, and it just might work. Three more steps. Agent 3's heart beat madly. Two more. Sweat began trickling steadily down his face. One more step... There! Agent 3 whirled around, took aim, and shouted "Freeze, Flambe!" through his clenched teeth. A devilish grin came over Dr. Flambe's face and he began to chuckle wickedly as he reached into his pocket and withdrew... Agent 3's lost clip! Agent 3's heart sank with dread. Suddenly... WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST TO BRING YOU THE FOLLOWING SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT. AND NOW, DAN RATHERNOT IN WASHINGTON: Dan: Hello, I'm Dan Rathernot. We here at the NutWorks NewsDesk have just received word that, starting in August, NutWorks magazine will be published no less than twice each month. Our vast hoards of marketing researchers have determined that you, our readers, would prefer to receive NutWorks magazine more often, given a slight cut in the size of each issue. We take you know, live, to correspondent Boopsie McBigones at the press conference being given at NutWorks headquarters. Boopsie...? Boopsie: Thanks, Dan. The editor of NutWorks is approching the podium. Let's listen in. Editor: Ladies and gentlemen of the press, NutWorks is just this magazine, you know? And... Boopsie? Is that you back there? Hey! Why don't you get your cute little... um.. or rather, perhaps you'd like to come to my office for an exclusive interview? Boopsie: On my way! Editor: Great. Well, that's about it. Thank you all for coming. Bye. Dan: Well, there you have it folks. This is Dan Rathernot. WE RETURN YOU NOW TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM, ALREADY IN PROGRESS. "Wow, that was a close one, Agent 3." said Commander Hunt as they watched the ambulence doors close on Dr. Flambe's dead body. "You barely made it out of there!" "All in a day's work, Commander." said Agent 3, and he walked off silently into the night. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Shit List ============= (Author unknown) Submitted by GHOST SHIT -- That's the kind where you feel the shit come out, have shit on the toilet paper, but there's no shit in the toilet. CLEAN SHIT -- The kind where you shit it out, see it in the toilet, but there is nothing on the toilet paper. WET SHIT -- The kind where you wipe your butt 50 times and it still feels unwiped, so you have to put some toilet paper between your butt and your underwear so you don't ruin them with a brown stain. SECOND WAVE SHIT -- It happens when you're done shitting. You've pulled your pants up to your knees, and then you realize that you have to shit some more. BRAIN HEMORRHAGE THROUGH YOUR NOSE SHIT, or POP A VEIN IN YOUR FOREHEAD SHIT -- The kind where you strain so much to get it out that you practically have a stroke. RICHARD SIMMONS SHIT -- The kind of shit where you shit so much you lose 30 pounds. CORN SHIT -- Self explanatory. LINCOLN LOG SHIT -- The kind of shit that is so huge that you're afraid to flush the toilet without breaking it up into a few pieces. DRINKER'S SHIT -- That's the kind of shit you have the morning after a long night of drinking. Its most noticeable trait is the tread marks left in the bottom of the toilet. "GEE, I WISH I COULD SHIT" shit -- It's the kind where you want to shit, but all you do is sit on the toilet cramped and fart a few times. BLOODY SHIT -- Self explanatory. SPINAL TAP SHIT -- That's the kind that hurts so much coming out that you swear it's leaving you sideways. WET CHEEKS SHIT, or POWER DUMP -- That's the kind that comes out of your ass so fast that your butt cheeks get splashed with the toilet water. LIQUID SHIT -- The kind where a yellowish-brown fluid shoots out of your butt, splatters all over the inside of the toilet bowl, the whole time chronically burning your anus. MEXICAN FOOD SHIT -- a class all it's own. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Return of the Two-dollar Hangover ===================================== (Or, How To Implode Yourself) by Q Oswald the Rolling Donut smiled in joy as he put down the story. "That Karl sure was lucky!", he beamed, and then imploded. The watermelon thought; then it thought again. Again it thought. I think it thought again, thought I, and the melon thought so too. It won- dered how the donut had imploded; it tried to implode, but could only make an "eep" sound, no matter how hard it tried. "Eep", went the melon; "eep" it went again. Eventually, the watermelon got very very bored and turned on the TV. Very far away from the TV, on a great big farm, there lived a Russian boy. He liked to play with his friends; he liked to eat dessert, and he didn't like school. All in all, he was a very average boy - so average that he grew into an average man. One day, when he was 83, he died of old age. The doctors said it was all totally natural. No one suspected anything. Also far from the TV lived an evil clown. His name was Blotto, and it was his wont to do evil, clownish things. Oh, was that little Russian boy lucky that he never ran into Blotto! Blotto ran a terrible, nasty circus, where people didn't wear clothes and Pop Tarts weren't allowed. It was a bad place. People there ate chared glass and wrote "Bleah" on their foreheads with big purple markers. No, sir... the Russian boy wouldn't have liked that. Oswald stood up. He hadn't really imploded, technically... he had swallowed and hiccuped at the same time, and we all know how THAT feels. Dragging the corpse out of the way, he grated some cheese for the taco dinner. Oswald loved mexican food. His friend should be there any minute! A knock sounded at the front door. Turning off the garbage disposal, Oswald rolled giddishly to the door. Opening it, he saw his friend... Charles Nelson Reilly! "Hi Chuckster!", he hollered. Charles looked at him and threw up enchiladas. Then he imploded. "Eep!", went the melon. Damn! This was so frustrating. He kicked the TV; the TV told him "Bleah." The janitor bit deep into her hand. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!", screamed our heroine as she hit the custodian in the head with her toaster-oven. With a wild cry, she dove off the landing and fell 19 flights of stairs. It was no problem, however... she had luckily worn her no-run mascara, so disaster was averted. Ulysses S. Grant sat down, not noticing the watermelon on the seat that he had mushed. He looked at the TV; the TV looked back. "Hey!", it cryed, "You're supposed to be dead!" "Oh! Sorry," said the deceased president; "I get confused sometimes," he confessed as he crumbled into ashes. Oswald the donut wondered if crumbling into ashes was harder than imploding. Not being able to decide, he ate himself. He was a jelly. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Great Exam Lies =============== by Dr. Strangeloop and The Eater of Babies (1) "All the data you need will be printed on the front of the paper." (2) "You only need to answer two questions to pass." (3) "It's not a test of memory, it's a test of ability." (4) "There's plenty of time to read through the paper before you start." (5) (from the lecture course) "I probably won't test you on this." ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Rules for Writers (by William Safire) combined with Newsman's English (by Harold Evans) ===================================== submitted by Johnathan R. Partington Remember to never split an infinitive. The passive voice should never be used. Do not put statements in the negative form, and don't use no double negatives. Verbs has to agree with their subjects. Proofread carefully to see if you any words out. If you reread your work, you can find on rereading a great deal of repetition can be avoided by rereading and editing. A writer must not shift your point of view. And don't start a sentence with a conjunction. (Remember, too, a preposition is a terrible word to end a sentence with.) Don't overuse exclamation marks!! Use apostrophe's correctly, and don't use commas, which, aren't neces- sary. Place pronouns as close as possible, especially in long sentences, as of 10 or more words, to their antecedents. About those sentence frag- ments. Writing carefully, dangling participles must be avoided. If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is. Take the bull by the hand and avoid mixing metaphors. Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky. Everyone should be careful to use a singular pronoun with singular nouns in their writing. Always pick on the correct idiom. The adverb always follows the verb. Corect speling is esential. Last but not least, avoid trite cliches like the plague. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ouch, Mosquito ============== by Mitchell Peck Submitted by Hugh Cushing Ouch mosquito, silent by night, Why pierce my skin, so white? You grow plump, as a leech. Stop! I beseech (in vein). I have no choice. Why waste my voice, When only a slap will do? Ouch, I am bitten! What ho, you are smitten! Yo mosquito, fuck you. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The View from Up Here ===================== by Richard Outerbridge I'm Canadian so I'm required to be bland. I'm also not in a particularly good mood, so I have no intention of being funny. That was not an apol- ogy. If you don't like it, don't read it. I want some answers from you who are Americans. Whoever is in charge of answers had better get to it, or I'll get unpleasant. If you've never seen an unpleasant Canadian, DON'T RISK IT! I know what a Bush is. This, for example: AM AM AM AM \AM/AM-AM/\AM/\AM-AM /AM\AM AM\AM/AM AM-AM/AM\AM/\AM AM-\/\/\/\AM-AM /\/ ||| ||| ||| ----- ===== is an amBush. This: ======= | Bud | ======= is an AnheiserBush. This: Bu**sh** is an expletive-free Bush. I even know what a "Jacks on" is. But what, pray tell, is a Dukakis? You'd better tell me because I've decided it will become your President. In fact, there doesn't seem much point in going on with this election nonsense. I'll save you all a lot of fuss and bother, and announce the appointment next week sometime. I realize that this will interfere with your collective efforts to bother the rest of the world, but I'm rather fed up with the lack of originality you've been exhibiting. My next question is more mundane. Why do you keep sending us products with shoddy and incomplete ingredients lists? In the future, please either: a) List ALL ingredients NOT included in the formation of the item, or b) List ALL ingredients which you failed to disinclude. A mix- ture of both of these philosophies is not acceptable. It also essential that you detail the thought processes (if any) occur- ring in any of the employee's of the manufacturer involved in the forma- tion and distribution of all products. We are all tired of trying to deduce whether or not to avoid using certain batches because there was a real danger that those involved in bringing them to us were not engaging in meaningful thought about South Africa as they went about their business. One kind thought for you: Don't worry about whether or not to legalize drugs. We don't care one way or the other. Regards, Neo-Socrates P.S. If you have time please explain baseball. Unless a very convincing justification for this is received, statements in the passive voice will cease, and ice hockey will replace all slower, less demanding, less suspenseful competitive pursuits (except those entailing mating behavior. American mating behavior is still amusing). P.P.S. If everyone really likes the taste of Burger King (King Burger, as my very adorable wife calls it) better than McDonalds (my favorite Scottish restaurant), why do so many people engage in ecosystem ex- changes (receiving and donating) at the latter venues? (Hypothesis: the virus is detectable through its side effects - the demise of the Southern Barbarians is not the work of an omniscient or unsportsman- like being). P.P.P.S. Re-read this often. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Orbs of Oppenheimre ======================= by Geoffrey "ZAPHOD" Heller <96994999@WSUVM1> Ronalled had been climbing for days now, yet the peak of Mt. Saltan was not even in sight. His food was getting low, he was thoroughly tired, and the insects had not ceased to bite at his every limb since he left Amacrion. He fondled the small orb in his purse. Little did anyone know he carried such a powerful weapon, he thought. Climbing still, he con- sidered his meeting with Gorbacon of Sobied. He couldn't stand Gorbacon, but his desire for a peaceful relationship with the Sobieds was more pressing than his dislikes. This was finally a plan for a greater peace. The destruction of the Orbs of Oppenheimre. He paused momentarily at the thought of the great Orb and profoundly said, "Gee". Years ago, when war was still raging between the Amacrions and the Sobieds, the Lord Ronalled had requested the creation of a superior weapon. The great Mage, Oppenheimre, replied with the creation of two orbs. They were so named the Orbs of Oppenheimre. When thrown, the Orbs could destroy the land for miles around. They also had be used simulta- neously. Because if one were used, the other would explode too. (For the same reason that people always seem to find a mutant corn flake in their cereal on thursdays.) Strangely, no one ever considered the fact that nobody could throw over a mile. If was foretold by Seers that upon the coming of the great harmonic divergence they would both spontaneously explode. (For the same reason that you can't ever find those mutant corn flakes after you put the milk in.) The harmonic divergence now crept closer with every waking moment. Ronalled considered the history of the Orbs while he walked. He gnashed his teeth knowing that Gorbacon only had the other Orb because he had stolen it. Overlooking the wrongdoings of Gorbacon, Ronalled focused on his goal: To get plastered at the beer garden on Mt. Saltan. At the summit of Mt. Saltan the two Lords were to meet and cast the Orbs into the endless pit if INFandor. Then the party would really begin. As Ronalled walked on, he noticed something strange. An odd whistling accompanied by a noise that sounded like, "uber dere". Faintly he heard the bushes rustle behind him. He whirled around only to be smashed on the back of the head from behind. The Orb was thrown from his purse. Ronalled lay now unconscious. His face was warped into a bizarre and unnatural fashion. He had a half frown with terrible hound dog eyes. For one fleeting moment he looked like a grotesque cross between Ollie North and Benji. Immediately out of the forest came Kadalferi and his band of thieves. Well, not thieves. Worse. Golfers. One of Kadalferi's subordinates came to him with the rather dull looking orb. Kadalferi briefly looked at it and said, "Ah ha! My golf Ball! I knew it was uber dere some- where! ... Fore!" With that he proceeded to make the greatest swing of his golfing career... Gorbacon looked up and saw the flash. He wanted to say something pro- found about Ronalled upon his death. He and Ronalled had been to a lot of really wild parties together. Like the time they were both drunk on the floor singing Toccata & Fugue in D minor to the beat of "Velcro Fly." But all he managed to work out was, "Golly" by the time he was blown to McNuggets. With the leaders gone the two kingdoms began a war of hideous accusa- tions. "You killed our lord!", "Did not!", "Did too!" and so forth. Soon these appalling accusations led into a terrible war which raged for decades. It all finally ended when the great philosopher ZAPHOD discov- ered the one phrase which truly was analogous to life: "I want to love life, but life only wants meaningless sex." The moral of the story is that there are no morals. If truth is stranger than fiction then a half-truth perforated with fiction and sprinkled with periodic madness is the oddest thing around. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- God: The Ultimate Autobiography =============================== (Holy Ghost-written by Jeremy Pascall) submitted by Johnathan R. Partington Featuring: * THE TRUTH ABOUT ADAM AND EVE, and why they were fired from the world's first theme park. * SODOM AND GOMORRAH: THE CITIES OF SIN, including street plans, good food guides and listings of the best clubs, discos, and bars. And why compulsory demolition orders were placed on all of them. * BEGETTING: THE DO'S AND DON'T'S, including why you shouldn't covet your neighbor's ass. And exclusively revealing: * The Eleventh Commandment! * That pigs were *meant* to fly, and rhinos were designed to live under stones! * That the sky should have been called "Waxtl" but Adam couldn't pronounce it! Plus a word for any atheists among you: "Wrong!" Ebury Press - ISBN 0 85223 657 3 - Hardback - $5.95 ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Committee ============= by Leslie Lipson submitted by Michael J. Irvin Oh give me your pity! I'm on a committee, Which means that from morning to night, We attend and amend And contend and defend Without a conclusion in sight. We confer and concur, We defer and demur, And reiterate all of our thoughts. We revise the agenda With frequent addenda And consider a load of reports. We compose and propose, We suppose and oppose, And the points of procedure are fun; But though various notions Are brought up as motions, There's terribly little gets done. We resolve and absolve; But we never dissolve, Since it's out of the question for us To bring our committee To end like this ditty, Which stops with a period, thus. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Issue024, (Volume VI, Number IV). July, 1988.