                                         /|             |\ 
   Hi, I'm Satan.                       | |             | |         oh?
   Mogel asked me to introduce           \`\           /'/'
   this issue of HOE.  I don't            \ `---------' /           oh!
   really have much to say,               /   /\   /\   \ 
   honestly.  I am not affiliated        |    ''   ``    |         ohh!!
   with this stupid text file             \     ` '     / 
   group.   It's complete trash.           `\   <o>   /'    .. .. ..
                                             `\     /'      || || ||
   Some people say that I'm evil,         ___/'`---'`\___   \\_||_//
   but I never produced a single         /               \   \    /
   shitty, torturous e-zine into        |     H  O  E     |   |  |
   the world.  People have never
   been forced to read my trite bullshit.  This may suggest that, in some
   ways, people like Mogel (and perhaps the editor of Newsweek), are more
   evil than I.  Please remember that next time you label me, okay?  L8r.

      .                                HEY.                             .
      .                                                                 .
      :              YOU LOOKIN' FOR SOME TEXT FILES????????            :
      :                                                                 :
      :          I SAID: YOU LOOKIN' FOR SOME TEXT FILES???????         :
      :                                                                 :
      :                STRAIGHT FROM THE PIT I HAVE RISEN               :
      :                                                                 :
      :               SUCKIN' YA SUCKIN' YA DOWN DOWN DOWN              :
      :                                                                 :
      :               TO THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF E'ZINE HELL              :
      :                                                                 :
      :                          ...this is....                         :
      :                                                                 :
      :                                                                 :
      .   $$"""b. s$ .d"""b.   $$"""b. .d"""b. $$"""b.  ###   .-----.   .
      .   $$   $$ $$ $$   $$   $$   $$ $$   $$ $$   $$ #####  |.---.|   .
          $$   $$ $$ $$   $$   $$   $$ $$   $$ $$   $$ #####  || 2 ||
      .   $$sss"  $$ $$        $$sss"  $$"""$$ $$   $$  ###   |`---'|   .
          $$"""b. $$ $$ $s$$   $$"""b. $$   $$ $$   $$        `-----'
      .   $$   $$ $$ $$   $$   $$   $$ $$   $$ $$   $$                  .
          $$   $$ $$ $$   $$   $$   $$ $$   $$ $$   $$  (BIG BAD #2!!!)
          $$sssT" $$ "TsssT"   $$sssT" $$   $$ $$sssT" HOE #1100 6-16-00

  I CAN'T QUITE RELATE TO IT I CAN'T QUITE RELATE TO IT I CAN'T QUITE RELATE
  ..........................................................................
                        __                                       ohhhh!!!!!1
  Which badly         /  /|
  written file     //  /  | 
  will YOU      / /  /    |     1. And God Spake all these words, saying,
  like?       / /  /   /| |     2. I am the LORD thy God, which have brought
            / /__/   /  | |        thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the 
          / /|   | /    | |        house of bondage. 
        ///  |   | |    / |     3. Thou shalt have no other gods before me.
        |    |   | |  /   |_    4. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven
        |    |   | |/   /  / \      image, or any likeness of any thing that
        |    |   |    /  /   t \     is in heaven above, or that is in earth
         \   |   |  /  /   r  g  \    beneath, or that is in the water under
           \ |___|/  /   e  f   b  \   the earth.
           /______ /   w  d   v /\ /|   5. Thou shalt not bow down to them
           | _____ |\ q  s   c /  /  /    nor serve them: for I the LORD
           ||    =||  \a   x /  /  /     thy God am a jealous God, 
           ||-----||    \z   \/  /      visiting the inquity of the 
           ||_____||      \ /  /       fathers upon the children unto
           |_______|_______| /        the third and forth
                                     generation of them that hate me;

			6. And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love 
 			   me, and keep my commandments. 
              7. Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain;
  ____________   for the LORD will not him guiltless that taketh his name
 |of course i |  in vain.
 |still loved |   8. Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. 
 |her, who    |   9. Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work.
 |wouldn't?   |  10. But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy god;
 |she said,"I |      in it thou shalt not work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy
 |love you."  |      daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservent, nor thy
 |I said, "I  |      cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates:
 |love you    |  11. For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the
 |too, but I  |      sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh
 |really can  |      day: wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and
 |not see us  |      hallowed it.
 |staying     |  12. Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days be long
 |together."  |      upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee. 
 |She agreed. |  13. Thou shalt not kill. 
 |We named    |  14. Thou shalt not commit adultery.
 |our child   |  15. Thou shalt not steal. 
 |after a     |  16. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.
 |Danish      |  17. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house, thou shalt
 |model turned|      not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his manservant, nor
 |actress     |      his maidservant, nor his ox, nor hiss ass, nor any
 |named Anna  |      thing that is thy neighbor's.
 |Karina. A   |  18. And all the people saw the thunderings, and the 
 |really cute |      lightnings, and the noise of the trumpet, and the 
 |baby, and it|      mountain smoking and when the people saw it, they
 |was my own  |      removed, and stood afar off.
 |flesh.      |   19. And they said unto Moses, Speak thou with us, and we
 |____________|       will hear, but let not God speak with us, lest we die.
 
     WHAT YOU GONNA DO WHEN YOU GET OUTTA JAIL / i'm gonna do a remix 
      streets bruise as easily as flesh just not vice versa | HI! | 
       		kisses here and there |_| |_| and everywhere 
		small children and dogzz * ask for sex on my
		front lawn I refuse to _____ give it to them

		/\/\//\/\/\
		|         |
		|         |
		|       ( )
		|         ---|
		|         ___|
		|      ___|
		|     |___  -------- DON'T HAVE A COW MAN
		|        |           EAT MY SHORTS
		|_______/	     EYE CARMUMBA

     						I'LL BE IN MY ROOM --------


			Y0|_| />0/\/+ |</\/()\/\/ +|-|3 |=1Z/Z+ +|-|1/\/6

			/-\|8()|_|+ \/\//-\/Z Y()|_| |_1++|_3  P|_|ZZY

			/-\ZZ3/) +/-\66()+
 N  I
 E  S
 W              ______ ________  ______ ____
    B          | baby | please | don't | go |
 O  A           ------ --------  ------ ----
 R  D                ______ ____ _____ _________
 L                  | back | to | new | orleans |
 E  (worst times)    ------ ---- ----- ---------
 A  (i ever had)           _____ ______ ____ _______ ____ ____
 N                        | you | know | it | hurts | me | so |
 S                         ----- ------ ---- ------- ---- ----

	splitting open the booshwahzie consciousness once again it is 
				big bag #2: paper or plastic? 

		 please mail all inquiries to diepig@kobek.com 
				:O
				* ^TOdiepig@kobek.com
				! /dev/null

			BIG BAG #2: STORAGE CAPACITY - 34 GALLONS

			Table of Contents: 
			Chapter #1: Anna Karina, modern day Sappho?
			Chapter #2: Anna Karina, Diana or Athena?
			Chapter #3: Anna Karina, the intellectual's Monroe?
			Chapter #4: Anna Karina, Mistress and Muse

			HELL IS WAR SHE SAID I LAUGHED A LITTLE
			LOVE IS WAR I REPLIED SHE LAUGHED A LITTLE
			WE LAUGHED TOGETHER
				I RAPED HER AND TIED HER NYLON AROUND
						>her neck<
				I brought it down to 3 inches diameter
				she died with her eyes lolling

 SO MANY COLORFUL PHRASES SO LITTLE TIME
 ohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

 Date: Thu, 16 Mar 2000 14:44:34 EST
 From: MISSE378@aol.com
 To: mogel@hoe.nu

 WELL HELL IS BEING LIVED IN AS WE SPEEK, COME ON KNOW, YOU HAVE TO ADMIT,
 NOTHING CAN BE ANY WORSE THEN WHAT WE ARE LIVING IN NOW, THERE ARE KIDS
 KILLING KIDS, SONS AND DAUGHTERS KILLING THERE PARENTS, EVEN OUR LAW
 SYSTEM CAN NOT BE TRUSTED, IF HELL WAS TO BE DEFINED, IT SHOULD BE LIFE
 ON EARTH, NOT SAYING THAT MY LIFE IS HELL, BUT READ THE PAPER, TAKE A
 LOOK OUTSIDE, THIS WORLD IS NOT HOW GOD INTENDED IT TO BE, WE AS THE
 PEOPLE HAVE TO BRING IT BACK, WE HAVE TO TEACH OUR CHILDREN THAT THEY ARE
 IN FACT ONLY CHILDREN, AND TO RESPECT THIER ELDERS NOT KILL THEM OFF, THE
 WORLD IS A SAD PLACE, AGAIN DEFINED AS HELL IN MY BOOK, WE ARE ALL
 STRIVING TO GET TO THE PARADISE THAT WE ALL DREAM ABOUT, I BELIEVE THAT WE
 WILL ALL MEET THERE ONE DAY THE RICH, THE POOR, THE YOUNG THE OLD THE BAD
 AND THE GOOD, GOD LOVE US ALL. CYA IN HEAVEN.

 ohhh!! ohhh!!!!1 

        And that's the question ya should've been askin', man.
        What is YOUR personal hell?

        "Being forced to watch an endless marathon of 'meet the contestants'
         Jeopardy! segments." - Mr A Jim

        "I would be driving with all new tires, then *BAM* I would get a
         flat, then I'd get a new tire and *BAM* another one would blow.
         repeat." - Alicia

        "Lack of cats." - TanAdept

        "My personal hell would be... a world with no HOE!!!"
         - Totsirol@aol.com

        "<deep> my mind. </deep>" - Anjee

        "Going through life unloved by the flesh of a woman :~(" - xXx_Droo

        "My personal hell would be being on IRC 24/7." - Crabit

        "Living in a house where I can never be at peace--with a total
         lack of concentration... where I cannot just sit and enjoy
         something, but am always plagued by some sort of fear or suspense."
         - Dagolith

        "Having my arms & legs fastened to the rear of a big orange
         Schneider semi truck travelling along interstate 39 & being
         immediately followed by a mint-green ford festiva carrying a
         mounted television showing videotaped highlights of my day-to-day
         life in rockford, illinois." - Trilobyte

        "Seeing full-page ads in the New York Times for companies headed
         by idiots i talked to confs on just a few years ago.  No wait.
         That was just how I spent yesterday morning." - Cstone

        "Being chained to the table for an never-ending marketing
         meeting." - Krnl

        "HAVING SEX WITH CAITLIN" - Jamesy

        "Trapped in a basement with N'sync, and being forced to teach them
         Perl and SQL." - Imbrogilo

        "Being stuck in a remote cabin for a week surrounded by stupid
         stoner kids who listen to Sugar Ray and Korn.  I don't know if
         that's my real answer.  I'd have to think about it.  I mean, it's
         hard to think seriously about it, in a SERIOUS WAY.  Obviously
         I'd be more distraught by seeing my mom raped and skinned or
         something rather than hanging out with stoners." - Basehead

       "Too personal to discuss." - Ingy

 OH EVERYBODY SING "OH SAY HAPPY DAY" TO THE SPECIAL AWARD WINNER BELOW!!!!1

 Date: Thu, 16 Mar 2000 15:23:09
 From: Max Graves <negative_kreep@casketcrew.zzn.com>
 To: mogel@hoe.nu

 I am living my own personal hell right now... it is called LIFE.
 Waking up everyday, realizing that I am not dead... HELL.  Going to
 school and seeing all the people wearing their masks of happiness and
 bullshit... HELL.  Trying to get somewhere in a society that abides by
 a strict set of rules to make us all mindless sheep robots... HELL.
 Trying to be nice to people, and make friends while fighting the hatred
 and disgust inside... HELL.  Watching people act stupid so they can fit
 in... HELL. Being stupid so I can thus be accepted... HELL. There are only
 a few true facts in this world.  One: everybody is a hypocrite.
 Two: everyone stereotypes.  Three: money rules all... HELL.  Imagine
 living to die, coexisting with existence, just to reach non-exisitence.

 Welcome to my hell.  I hate everyone and I write like shit, but that's
 reality and reality is my hell... what do I know anyways?  I'm just a
 worthless faggot in a world of slut whores...

 Peace Out.
 -Max Graves

 Date: Fri, 17 Mar 2000 18:14:07 GMT
 From: "Nina ..." <n_nn_n@hotmail.com>
 To: mogel@hoe.nu

 it would probably be burning hot so everyone can wear a bathing suit....
 or a birthday suit for that matter.  and there would be non-stop parties
 for the members of the "club", those are the people who lived their lives
 to their full potential and not by the bible, like for ppl who KNOW how to
 have FUN!!!!!!  and there'd be like torture chambers all over, cause they
 are like so kinky and gooood!!!!  lol and then i'd have dorito smokey red
 bbq chips served and hot baths and everything hot!  so it would be like
 this freaky sex lair with all "evil" ppl and stuff.... yup that's my dream!

 Date: Wed, 22 Mar 2000 17:55:14 -0600 (CST)
 From: Glynis <jwhite1@students.uiuc.edu>
 To: Mogel <mogel@hoe.nu>
 
 this is actually a math problem assigned for homework.  MATH problem.  and
 no, i'm not in 8th grade.

 30.  VISITING THE NATIONAL DEBT.  In the case study on the national debt,
 we found that it would make a stack of $1 bills about 1 million kilometers
 tall.  Suppose that you could fly through space along this stack of money
 in a 747 airplane.  Assuming a speed of 1000 km/hr (620 mi/hr), how long
 would the flight take?  Write one or two paragraphs that use your results
 to put the national debt in perspective.

 you've got to be kidding me.  this class is called NUMERACY, and not only
 is the math involved incredibly simple, but now i have to write two
 paragraphs putting the national debt into perspective.  ARE YOU SERIOUS?

 Date: Wed, 22 Mar 2000 01:38:19 EST
 From: Jrblack214@aol.com
 To: mogel@hoe.nu

 I suppose that I should talk about how pure I am and how I have been such
 a loving mother and good provider to my child, and a hard worker, this was
 not the case. I have already been through hell in really bad relationships,
 living in poverty and trying to make something of myself in a world where
 people are ashamed to even say they are "white" anymore. I got really
 pissed off the other day when I did my census form. It is none of the
 governments damn business what color I am, white people get screwed because
 they are white. I couldn't get day care for my son because there was no
 funding for white families, only Hispanic, Asian and African Americans,
 and the school I work at is total affirmative action whether they will
 admit to it or not. so I feel like the minority in my own country. Anyone
 heard of a white entertainment network lately??? The white panthers?? the
 Caucasian scholarship program?? I am not racist as some may think but what
 about our rites to white pride?? does this offend you? I think that all of
 the people of ethnic backgrounds other than white think we have it so good
 and I just wanted to say that we have it but what do we really have besides
 pale ass skin???? I would have voted for Collin Powell (excuse me if that
 is the wrong spelling) if he ran for president because I thought he would
 do a good job, not because he was black. just a thought.

 Date: Sun, 19 Mar 2000 22:51:07 -0500 (EST)
 From: harri131@pilot.msu.edu
 To: mogel@hoe.nu

 Having to read all these lame HOE special release files on a common topic.
 This is my generic ultra-hip ezine answer.  In reality however, pokemon,
 the backdoor boys and stupid people are merely nuisances.  There are far
 worse things in the universe than being surrounded by 8 year old kids
 screaming gibberish like "pikachu" and "Jizzathon".

 Imagine having your brain constantly flooded with millions of sensations,
 Moving and changing so quickly that your mind cannot keep up.  All you
 want is sleep, but it's not coming.  Soul-Death... Nothingness... is prayed
 for...

 -Darks1de

                            Briefing 0700 HOURS

      Listen up, troops!  We here at HOE have decided that we're going to
 declare WAR on the timeless force of mediocrity, and though we know this
 battle can never be won, we'd rather die with our teeth gritted and the
 gorey remains of our friends splattered across our impending consciousness.
 We aren't going to sit around and grow fat.  No, we're rallying to the
 white canes, and we're taking our vicious battle style to the streets.
 We're slapping down our own bastard offspring, that paragon of the putrid,
 Anada.
      No more will we tolerate the rambling booshwah ethic of mass marketed
 pop artistry slashing across the only medium that remains pure and
 uncorrupted by Fifth Avenue suits: the text file.  At HOE, our paramilitary
 efforts have brought us to only one conclusion: that it's better to die in
 our footsteps.  We have declared war on these vile pigs and their mediocre
 efforts which time and time again make the most horrible smells.  So we
 strap on the G.I. Joe battle gear and strip off the mask of Cobra Commander
 only to reveal that his days as a used car salesman are over, and that his
 son Billy has escaped with Zartan.
      Are you hearing me, you sorry assholes?  Did you eat the banana yet,
 you sick fucking animals?  We are bringing down the entire power structure
 onto our own shoulders.  The law of the land has been mediocrity for too
 long and only at HOE can the truth be known; that binary opposition between
 GOOD and BAD is meaningless; that they are the same thing; that the only
 enemy is mediocrity; that the religion of our time has made us too
 unworldly and forced us to lose the taste of blood.
      Atomic bomb explodes over Hiroshima August 6th, 1945 and no one yet
 knows how many died from the Chernobyl accident, but we do know one solid
 truth: that these anada files sucked and that we made them better.  This
 may be our last transmission; we're going into the jungles of Peru and
 we're going to pull down the temples of Machu Pichu, knowing that the
 Aztec gods were mediocrity in excelcius.

 -AIDS/Kobek.Com President/HOE Assistant Editor

 --------------------THA DIRECT RESPONSE: OHHH!!!!------------------------

 ON WAR by Effy

 "War is as anachronistic as cannibalism, slavery and colonialism."
             --Rosalie Bertell, of the Horizon Electronic Magazine for IRPA 
               (International Peace Research Association)

	As the sole neutral representer of opposing sides of this dark time
 in the history of our culture, I would like to take a few moments to lament
 on this atrocious situation that is now very obviously directly affecting
 our day to day lives.  It makes me sad to witness such ugly belligerence in
 a once so peaceful environment.  This massive dispute, this veritable civil
 war between Hoe and Anada is taking its toll on us, and could quite
 possibly end with major consequences, such as the destruction of ezine
 culture as it is known today.  Every night before I go to bed, I pray to
 our holy mother Mogel that light will be shed upon our fingertips, and
 those who oppose each other will only have kind words to say from that day
 forward.  I then dream of a text file world where we do not need to claw at
 each other's throats and gnaw at each other's weaknesses in order to be
 humorous, in order to be accepted, to gain rank and power.

 "We here at HOE have decided that we're going to declare WAR on the
  timeless force of mediocrity...We're slapping down our own bastard
  offspring, that paragon of the putrid, Anada."                   -- AIDS

        AIDS (also known as J arett Kobek), assistant editor of Hoe,
 epitomizes this tendency that has become all too natural in the past years.
 It makes sense, considering he is the initiator of this war.  But deep down
 inside AIDS's heart, we must realize that he doesn't really want to fight.
 He merely wants his children and his children's children to view the
 history of the text file scene as a fascinating saga which must be
 repeatedly relived in order to keep the dwindling community alive and
 thriving.

 "I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and
  mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the 
  crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the [TEXT FILE]
  shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together."
                                                    --Martin Luther King Jr.

        My weary eyes look to this day that Mr. King once referred to a
 long, long time ago, for I too have a dream, like he.  Some of you may
 laugh.  Some may scorn.  Some may write typically sarcastic text files
 about the hope that lives in the deepest cranny of my soul.

	I do not care.  I am not afraid anymore.  I will be heard!

	Peace is our destiny, my friends.  We must gather with peace, and
 part with peace.  We must not recruit then reject, and subject ourselves
 to watching the senseless desecration of our supposed bastard children.
 We must not deny the responsibility for the "mediocre" text files that
 Mr. Kobek speaks of with such distaste.  We cannot disown the eggs we lay.
 We must lie in the bed that we make.  We must reap what we sow, and
 nourish the fruit that we plant.

	It pains me to know that my comrades reside on both sides of the
 battle.  A prominent feeling of melancholy consumption is eating away at
 my heart and soul.  I say to those of you who now stand proudly shouting
 your senseless battle cries:

	I am not a part of this war.

	I will give my love to all of you.

	I will bandage your bleeding wounds that you have given each other.

	I will console you as your relationships deteriorate.

	I will continue to read all of your text files, and I will continue
 to write for both Hoe and Anada, despite the hostility in between and the 
 bitterness that is sure to come my way.

	I will stand my ground, tall and straight as the five-foot-four
 inches of my body.

        And when it's all over, I will remain, unscarred and still willing
 to give peace a chance.

        Won't YOU give it a chance?

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 THE TEXTIAD by Oregano

        And there on the field, the champion of the kingdom of Hoe, Aids,
 lay dead.  A spear thrown by a female warrior having cleaved his skull and
 his over-developed brain did spill out and wet the dusty ground.  The
 Mighty Mogel did wail and cry over the vanquishment of his best soldier.

        And there, not far away, the champion of the kingdom of Anada did
 lay dead.  Oregano, who had been silent for so many months, only to pick up
 his sword when most needed.  An arrow pierced his heart and Oregano would
 stir no more.  Phairgirl, from up high did unlease her anger and promise
 great wrath against the kingdom of Hoe for taking her finest after finally
 he took pen in hand after so much silence.

        Yea, I tell the end, where you want the beginning. I will start
 again, and tell you how the events came about.

        Mogel was restless.  Mogel wanted change.  Mogel had created Hoe
 from the dust and now he wanted to recreate it again in a different form.
 Mogel thundered and cried and shook Hoe with his mighty strength and all
 the good writers fell out.  Then Mogel did cast out Phairgirl saying that
 her careful ways of quality control were too slow for such a grand
 creation as Hoe.

        Phairgirl did call the bluff of the mighty Mogel and did create her
 own kingdom from the dust, and it too was strong, strong enough to make the
 Mighty Mogel and his best warrior, Aids, worry it may someday be the ruler
 of the continent.  Phairgirl ruled a land of peace, a kingdom called Anada.
 Perhaps too peaceful, for some of the warriors got lazy and would not work
 with their pens.

        Mogel thundered again and cast out Oregano, who promptly sought
 refuge in the kingdom of Anada.  But Oregano was battered from so many
 years defending the kingdom of Hoe and he could no longer hold a mighty
 pen, and so when the ships of Anada saw war and sailed to the field of
 battle, Oregano could only lay by the ships while his fellows wrote the
 text which was the great battle.

        We skip here some grand tales of bravery and heroism, on both sides,
 for both Anada and Hoe had powerful staffs.  Both sides took their best
 shots and many lay wounded or fallen in the dust.  Aids came out to the
 field of battle and many of Anada fell, but still Oregano did not stir, he
 lay while the best of Anada fought valiantly.  A pen in his hands was like
 a poker taken directly from a fire.  Even when a proud Robin landed on his
 shoulder, sent from Olympus on high, and reminded him of past glory and his
 great prowess with the pen and the sword, even then Oregano did not stir
 and would only self-loathe himself.

        Yea did the battle rage on and the soldiers of Anada were taking a
 beating.  And upon this beating did Aids make a grand proclamation.  He
 spoke not just to his own warriors, but to these of Anada and he did say
 that he personally would see that the corpses of every soldier of Anada
 would rot in the sun, and their blood would soak in the the dust and Anada
 would no longer be remembered and all the Anada staff would be smited and
 not written in the book of life.

        And with these words ringing in his ears, with his head echoing with
 the challenge, did Oregano stand up off the dusty ground and did pick up
 his mighty pen and sword and did wield it and did step onto the field of
 battle where he did much injury and harm to the side of Hoe.  He stood to
 once again rase the banner of Anada as being not just the finest in the
 land, but truly the only in the land.

        And there were many days of intense fighting and now we come back
 to where my tale started.  After the dust settled from the bravely fought
 battle we find Aids dead upon the field of battle with his brains
 scattered, and Oregano lay fallen too, with his blood among the dust, his
 heart pierced with a single arrow.

        And mighty Mogel did order his troops off the field of battle.  And
 Phairgirl did order her ships again to take to the sea for the odyssey of
 returning back to the kingdom of Anada, to have her forces ready to gather
 for another day.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 "God takes a shit and out comes..." by Alek

        OK, so every once in awhile, God has to take a crap.  He's like
 only human and junk, or something, ya know.  So, anyhow, yeah, God really
 needed to fucking crap one day.  I mean a HUGE fucking crap.  Like take the
 biggest, longest crap you ever ever took in yr entire life and multiply
 that by a zillion and that's how big God's crap was gonna be.  So, anyhow,
 God sat down on his gigantic toilet.  Now this toilet is pretty fucking big
 because everyone knows that God is one fat fuck.  its true! its true!  And
 he eats babies too.  But, i digress.

        So, God sits down on his gigantic huge fucking throne to take the
 largest crap ever taken (Guinness Record officials are on hand).  Veins are
 fucking bulging out of his forehead and he's all red and he's screaming, "God
 damnit, come the fuck out already!  Jesus fuckin' christ!"  Its quite
 obvious that God had been eating many fried cheese and sardine sandwiches.
 He was very constipated.

        After countless hours of squeezing and pushing, God let out the
 biggest crap ever.  When God was done a few days later, he wiped and got up
 to check the toilet.  You see, God always inspects his feces for fiber.
 Its true, its true!  God was truly astonished at what he saw in his
 crapper.

        Some dude with a t-shirt that said HOE on it started yelling about
 some stuff, but no one knew what he was talking about cuz he's a stupid fuck
 or something.  then there was a girl who had boobs and junk and she like to
 talk to the poo.  she had a HOE shirt on. i think she was one of the
 godfather's ladies.

        There were some other dudes that said they were writers for an ezine
 or some shit but no one cares about their loser asses cuz they are loser
 asses.  everyone knows technology is gay and no one gives two tugs of a
 dead dogs cock about yr gay star trek website or yr backstreet boys porno
 britney spear shaving pics CLICK HERE!

        um, what?

        so these people with HOE tshirts are swimming around in fecal water
 and having a grand ol time cuz they're pretty much accustomed of wallowing
 in shit (LOL!).  WHOOOOoooo!  take that cracker motherfuckas!

        um, so in conclusion or whatever, um if you read HOE, yr gay and you
 support a bunch of baby eating, tree huggin, dirty, skanky, bottom feeding,
 brutal, trash bag hoes, and that my friends IS TRUE!

        (by the way: what's HOE?)

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 Date: Tue, 9 May 2000 02:03:24
 From: chet@oldmanmurray.com
 To: Mogel <mogel@hoe.nu>

 Don't taunt me that this will be your final pathetic email.  The fun of
 receiving links to poorly written crap is over... feel free to remove
 my name from your list or just get used to the mail being bounced.

 Date: Fri, 11 Feb 2000 04:04:43 GMT
 From: Aleka Hoku <hawiian_hoku@hotmail.com>
 To: mogel@hoe.nu

 hoe's great! i love all the different txt files and stuff....i've been
 reading hoe for over a year, was introduced by a friend and have passed it
 on to many many friends and acquaintances...keep the kick ass awesome
 job!!!! i love everything u guys write!
 mucho smooches
 *anela aleka*

 Date: Tue, 28 Mar 2000 18:32:03
 From: Dan Nagy <nothing@apk.net>
 To: hoe@hoe.nu
 Subject: HOE SUBMISSION

 i remember those days. 

 i was into things. i listened to Inf. Soc. and kmfdm. i sat in a dirty 
 corner at my fathers house on my leading edge 286, with those awful 5.25"
 drives, one with dos, one with procomm plus, plotting ways to reconnect to
 the same line after my 60 minute freenet session was over. 

 i remember those awful freenet picnics, where some of the peoples skin was
 paler than the plain white t-shirts i used to wear all the time. the
 cliques, the loners, the fact that we all knew  ourselves as ap035 and
 sa131 and cl762. 

 1200 baud. warez boards that let you in if you knew what InC and ACiD
 stood for. hacking irc. social engineering accounts from people you hated,
 or better yet, taking the other phone and calling them, because their 
 mommy and daddy didn't want the call waiting turned off. wondering if my
 cpu would crash, because the buffer might overload while i was capturing
 uuencoded porn.  the green trench coat that lasted me through high school.

 then there were the text files. 

 everything i learned about making my own drugs, picking locks, exploiting
 unix and bestiality i learned on searchlight boards, wildcat hacks and
 usenet, when people actually had something useful to say. 

 those days are gone. like most of the other kids that were around during
 that era, i got a real job in computers, and although i still sit in front
 of this damned box all night long when the  girl's at school, it's not the
 same. freenet's gone in cleveland. the people i used to look forward to
 chatting with at 3 am have moved on, some for better, some for worse, some
 for AOL.

 don't get me wrong, everyone deserves an IPO, right? cheers for linux and
 rob malda and jon katz. props to search engines and al4a. palm pilots and
 G4's and transmeta are alright in my book.  but they'll never replace the
 fondness i have for CGA graphics and copycon autoexec.bat.

 so here's to all of us that read CdC when it was new, to people who
 actually knew what a SysOp was and definitely to anyone that had a
 TI-994a. 

 one of these days i'm going to pull that 286 out of the attic and write
 text files on it. maybe somebody will know what the hell i'm talking
 about. 

                          /\
                        _|  |_
                      _|__  __|_
       __            |          |
     _|  |_          |   |  |   |
    |      |   /\    |   |  |   |
    |      |  |  |   |   |  |   |___
    |      | |   |   |   |  |   |   |
    |      |_|_  |   |   |  |   |   |
    |      |   | |   |   |  |   |   |
   _|      |   |_|_  |          |   |_
  |        |       |_|          |     |                           (oh.)
 |                                    |
 |         CLEVELAND FREE-NET         |
 |      COMMUNITY COMPUTER SYSTEM     |
 |____________________________________|

          brought to you by

    Case Western Reserve University
  Community Telecomputing Laboratory

 Date: Mon, 3 Apr 100 04:23:10
 From: Matt Spinks <mcspinks@unix.amherst.edu>
 To: mogel@hoe.nu
 Subject: HAY UYUUU

 HAY D00D@!! EYeyz sawrZ Yuew g0tz da Gnu z1n3 out dare on tdat street
 n lyts lke ho."  like Hoe3 4 h0rz n tards n bytchfuckaz niggazs n dig
 dogfuckjaz n like dogdinks... y0 sucka!  Yo I been lisssinin to-2-t3w
 much EMINEM l8lee n its makin me wanna g0 out wif da sack o ole
 marbles in DA TUBESOCK N FUKCIN WAHM! bring it down on sum retards
 hed...umm like YO BIEEYTATCH YOU WNAT MAH AUTOGRAPH? I BUST Y0 HED IN
 HALF N SIGN THA CAST!@!  damn dude.. i see You got some mad t-phil3z
 up on h0e dare, dhere iz many wif da old-sk00l look.and.feel like
 whats wuz around cDc in... da eighties! woo!  rumba da 80s or wuz U U
 sum little ass fuckin schoolboyniggabitchfuckacatfuc/? ya well it
 seems 2 me nowz you rumba da 80s G00D wifs all yer mosposmderism ov da
 ironyo-retroyo-mistah-makinfunnamuhSELF-files n da
 retro-anarcho-socio-politico-sayfuck?-sayshit! files... N0tZ da
 mention you n your bagga bittches wif what constutiiutes a posse ov
 editeros los banditos del cyberspacospicco ... mogel da cyberspic. who
 w00dda thought ov it?

 oh YEZ m0gel, mah friend, ur gnu files are ind33d tha retro-ist ov all tha
 we-so-bad-we-so-good filez..  u seemz 2 be regargitatin da c0llege
 education now dat y00z gradickated fum CULLUGE! UH WUNT DUH CULLEGE!
 D00d wickid! d00d eye haff m0re literary talent in muh FUCKIN twisted
 testicles than y0u got in yer damn army ovV retro textFiles...  sum men
 got da BEEMER sum got a really nice bike, sum got a job at starbucks, s0me
 peepulz got a thousand textfiles.. d00d the nigworm eye be scratchin off
 mah armz is dah papyrus upon which YOU wish you gonna be writing dah next
 great TEXTFILE.

 m0gel... da king ov da textfilez... spreading dem everywhichwhere like
 sum SCENT.. like herpesz n sum guano, dr0ppin tfile jism of wisdum like
 s4lt on dah 'Hoag13s" whutz sday cll da big footlong sammich in moguls
 town! Ho-geez0rsz FUCKA when he goez to buy sumz animalz carckuhz@s dah
 store he leeves dah trail 0v t-f3philez behindZ him.  Wh3n He dryve3sz
 dah m0gel kar 2-PHAST!! n da c0pz is lyke 'SHit you BISZZZTEd BUSTED
 BIATCH!'  mog0el's like... "Here dude, have a textfile. On me. Peace out,
 bro!"  n da c0pz like 'das YYYOOUU  mogel?? Sir haff a nice dayz0rsz!!"
 n m0gels off sc0tch-twat-free.

 das m0gel ph0r ewe!  He livvf he brethe3s he 3ats textfiles N hazza barbie
 doll whutz sleeps in dis bed next t0 hiz, N He makes dah bed for barbie
 outtA prynt3d 0ut IBFTzz n CdcZ!  Dat widdoo poosy!  he pways edittin da
 textfilezinesscene wiff faggbutt d0lls! NO SHIT!  eye swearsz, he g0tta
 barbie n skipper size comput3RRRR he be like 'Barbie, your realist piece
 on the postmodern implications of my girlfriends armpit is late!  My lit
 zine cant go to press without it! I will suck and I will lose my girliez
 and I will lose my IP address!  Why is the life of a genius so hard,
 Barbie?!"

 (oh seriously man on a serious note i read your phun w/shit file and you
 gotta try this...  there is a new kind of gatroade called Fierce Grape
 Gatorade.  it will give new meaning to the phrase 'my shit is a weird
 color'.  anyway sorry to break out of character for that, but if you take
 me up youll find it was wiorth it... anyway...)

 Wh3n m0gels bees tha f00kin like 85 yrs-old n INNA HOSPITAL (HAHAHAH)
 dey is gonna open hiz c0l0sztomy bag n be lyke ''fuck is THIS shit?' n
 they gonna open it out n find it CLOGGED WIFF TEXTFILES.  m0gel. he be
 slappin tha headres n ph00ters on da st00pid shit fum dah cr4ydle 2 da
 grave 0r at leazzt fum da p00berty 2 da alzheimers.  h3 stick a header
 n f00ter on his 0wn m0mma.

 write back!@!

 Date: Sun, 21 May 2000 19:50:23 -0700
 From: butcher <butcher@drizzle.com>
 To: mogel@hoe.nu

 My friend said you sent him a subscription to HOE ZINE!  THanks you friend.
 I am worried now if he will like HOE ZINE as much as I like it but I hope
 he does.  I really hope he does.

 Thanks HOE MAN.

 tinkle tinkle

 (do you laugh at that? (tinkle tinkle)?)

 I do laugh at it.. BYE!

 Date: Tue, 28 Mar 2000 12:12:11 +0200
 From: onnlein@wtal.de
 To: hoe@hoe.nu
 Subject: noppa

 hello, i search for the sources or the programmer of noppa, it's
 really important for me, i hope you can help me!!

 Date: Mon, 3 Apr 2000 01:31:48 EDT
 From: Muzak29@aol.com
 To: mogel@hoe.nu
 Subject: I wanna write for your zine.

 When I fly. I have the wings of the winged snake-man. Once, when I was 2,
 I pooped in the dog water because i was being potty trained. That is not a
 false statement. We will dance. Ask the snake-man.

 .................................................. . ..        .         .  
 OH OH NO NO NO NO OHHH OHHHHHH NOOOOOOOO OHHHHHH HOE WILL NEVER SELL OUT.
 :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: : ::        :         :

 Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2000 13:12:48
 From: "Alexandre Baronnet" <angela2@intrnic.com>
 To: hoe@hoe.nu
 Subject: Information required

 Hello!

 We are interested in advertising in your newsletter. We sell astrology
 reports and want to advertise our products in newsletters orientated
 towards a general public.

 We would be interested in running an ad on a regular basis in order to
 secure the lowest possible tariff from you. We are not sure how often
 your newsletter goes out but would like to run the ad once a week if you're
 a weekly or once a month if you're a monthly. As mentioned, we are
 interested in securing the lowest possible tariff so would like your ideas
 on the following:

 -either we advertise 'normally' in your newsletter (5 lines?) and would
  therefore need a tariff from you which takes into account the fact that
  we will be advertising regularly

 -or we could supply a much shorter ad (one or two lines such as request
  your free personal horoscope done by a professional astrologer :
  http..." :) that we would want you to slip in between your other ads.

 The latter seems to be the most appealing for both parties since you get
 to keep your other advertisers and we get a good deal as far as your
 tariff is concerned.

 Please mail us back with your tariffs, number of subscribers and how
 often your newsletter goes out. Thanks in advance.

 Sincerely
 Alexandre Baronnet

 Date: Thu, 25 May 2000 04:07:48 +0100
 From: roboto@bboy.com
 To: hoe@hoe.nu

 *******************************************************
 *   hoe e'zine--a retailiation to #709                *
 *   "young linux users"                               *
 *    by roboto                                        *
 *******************************************************

 I read interjen's article recently, and I'm all for her anti-aol
 propaganda. I started out on aol four years ago, when I was 8 or 9, but I
 moved on to local ISPs. And I think it's cool that she uses linux and shes
 only 11, but when the editor (Phairgirl I think) says 'Interjen is an
 eleven year old girl.  Were YOU using Linux when you were eleven?  I don't
 think so.' -- He's wrong.

 I started using linux when I was 11, with my first install of Redhat4.1
 (kernel 2.0.27, I think). And, I didn't have anyone to help me with it.
 I found out about it by myself, read up on it, talked to other linux users
 on IRC about it. The one day, after I saved up 40 bucks, I went to CompUSA
 and bought a copy of RedHat. Then I went home, formatted my 486, and put
 it on. I'm 13 now, and I've been using linux for two years (not two years
 of productivity, just two years).  I've gained experience over those two
 years. Linux started me on my first unsuccessful attempts at programming
 (which actually was VB, but I got interested in programming around 11,
 after I saw that I had access to a free compiler, linker and debugger).

 Why did I write this?  I have no fucken clue, I just wanted to show you
 guys that there may be more young-future-unix-gurus out there then you
 guys thought.. later.

 -roboto

 Date: Mon, 15 May 2000 11:05:57 -0700 (PDT)
 From: guido sanchez <gweeds@newhackcity.net>
 To: mogel@hoe.nu

 i had no idea that the song "The Salaminizer" by GWAR was such a
 tribute to "Gangster Gangster" by NWA

 GWAR:
 Here's a little somethin from a God to a slave
 Never shoulda been let out the fuckin microwave
 ...
 Burning a mall or two, blowing the load I spew
 You don't wanna fucking fuck me? I'll fuck you!
 This is your ass, and I'm in it
 My man Sexy will fuck you up in a minute
 With an axe, sword, mace, pike you're limbless
 Then I'll fuck your ass til it's rimless

 NWA:
 Here's a little somethin' bout a nigga like me
 Never shoulda been let out the penitentiary
 ...
 Takin' a life or two, that's what the hell I do
 You don't like how I'm livin? Well fuck you!
 This is a gang, and I'm in it
 My man Dre'll fuck you up in a minute
 With a right, left, right, left you're toothless
 And then you say goddamn they ruthless

 WEIRD, HUH?

 Date: Thu, 10 Feb 2000 16:30:20 EST
 From: Vishnu3@aol.com
 To: mogel@hoe.nu

 hi mogel, i'm nick cannariato.  i have an overwhelming curiosity for the
 outside world.  my lust for learning has taken me from the utmost of
 ascensions of consciousness to the gravest depths of attention deficit.
 i especially savor music (pop, classical, jazz, not emo). literature,
 history, and philosophy are also primary interests of mine.  i am an
 individual who loves others.  i often times have a hard time accepting
 them for who and what they are, but i am working on that character flaw.
 i have the heart of a leviathan who enjoys the warm luminescence of solar
 rays near the surface of the turbulent sea of ignorance.  i also have the
 wisdom to know that i do not know.  socrates is an idol of mine.  the
 platonic dialogues are beautifully written, but are often inaccessible to
 the everyman.  i am piteous of this fact.  hypocritically speaking, i
 deplore the vernacular of the day.  i try to always expand my vocabulary.
 a heightened sense of language gives me the boost on a daily basis i need
 to maintain a deluded sense of autonomy.  either way, continue on your
 path toward zine greatness.  ciao baby---peace be with you---love to all.

 Date: Thu, 08 Jun 2000 23:43:30
 From: Craig M. Price <craig_m._price@jackson.cc.mi.us>
 To: hoe@hoe.nu
 Subject: HOE SUBMISSION

 Hello, Gotta submission for ya.  Thanks for your time.

 ----------

 "How dumb people ruined the Internet" by Bung Ree

        Most of you can probably remember when the Internet started.  Back
 in the day the Internet was about knowledge.  Sadly, like so many other
 things in life, it has become a tool for the media to make more money.

        How has this atrocity come to pass?  I'll tell you- DUMB PEOPLE.
 Ten years ago the Internet wasn't worth companies' time because the few
 mount of people on the Internet were smart.  How many of you people
 actually click the ads that run on every single damned web page?  Most of
 you probably answered zero- congratulations, you are (probably) not dumb
 (Notice the lack of ads on the Hoe E'zine page).

        What has changed since then to allow these idiots out into our once
 beloved Internet?  I'll tell you- User Friendliness.  Years past, you had
 to actually know something to be able to use the Internet.  No
 sponge-minion that didn't know the difference between a CD-ROM and a
 fucking coffee cup holder could get on.  Today, since these computers are
 made for the average person, (translation: DUMB) you buy a computer, and
 WHAMO!  You're on the Internet, clicking merrily away, making the suits
 more money, surfing to every single web address you see, whether it be on
 a cereal box, an ad in the paper, or the back of a detergent bottle.  And,
 of course, sending your DAMNED chain letters to every person you have met
 in your miserable existence.  Oh by the way, just in case one of you
 happens to be read this, no matter how many poor saps you send an email
 to, you *WILL NOT* see cool movies, get 1,000,000 dollars from Bill Gates
 for helping him test his email tracing program, have good luck, score more
 dates, and no little girls with cancer / AIDS will get pennies / nickels /
 dimes. TRUST ME.

        So, these companies say, "Hey, we can get more advertising now that
 there are more dumb people on the Internet!" "Quick lets buy any domain
 name that has anything remotely to do with our product."  Then they
 populate web sites with flashy ads and cool slogans.  Why the hell a
 company needs a site with Java, Macromedia Flash, and a host of other
 bandwidth-hogging shit just to advertise some fucking laundry detergent
 is beyond me.

        Thanks to all of you people who continue to not be dumb.  Our
 numbers are dwindling fast; we must do what we can to propagate smart
 people.  Who will have sex with me?

 Date: Mon, 22 May 2000 06:52:55 -0400
 From: killer cait <caitlin@kobek.com>
 To: j arett@kobek.com
 Subject: AWewEkslfkslQE!

            !!!!!!!!!!         !!!!!!!!!!!
        !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
      !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
   !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
         !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
             !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
                !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
                   !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
                      !!!!!!!!!!!
                          !!!!!
                            !!

 Love,
 Caitlin

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 EAT MY BALLS by Effy

        you're nuthin' but a fuckin' crusty ass shit fuckin' faced rottin'
 spare chunk of skunk liver lyin' on the side of the fuckin' road eatin'
 fuckin' poodle shit to fuckin' stay alive dog cock slurpin' pig dick
 munchin' bull shit wipin' salad tossin' gold fuckin' diggin' four fingered
 half brained peanut nibblin' fuckin dipshittin' in the fuckin' portofuckin'
 potty fuckin' your mother in the fuckin' gutter mother fuckin' ass huggin'
 tree fuckin' electrical tape on your fuckin' ass crack to hold your fuckin'
 dingleberries in mother fuckin' suckin' your cows dick just to get milk
 while rapin' your sheep while your wife's beggin' for sex mother fucker
 mother fucker mother fucker kiss my ass you fuckin' fuck who hangs
 testicles on your christmas tree fuckin' zoo rapist smack daddy mother
 fuckin' crack nut wanna be my daddy bitch whore slut wannabe las vegas
 cunt licker yeah buddy I'm talkin' to you that's right you use fuckin'
 anal oil as your fuckin' cologne that's right uh huh you're nuthin' but a
 twisted limp dick yanker that's right you yank your own twistin' limp dick
 yeah you try an' come over here you crap lapper farm fuck inbred came out
 of your mother's ass mother fuckin' lifeless squirrel grabbin' piece of
 unidentified worthless feces eat my balls that's right eat my balls you
 try and eat my steel balls with your two poor blackened excuses for teeth
 whisker bitch drinkin' your wife's rag out of a tin cup impregnatin' your
 goat cuz you're just as much of a fuckin' horned fuckin' animal masturbator
 fecal rapist doin' piles of manure at midnight pickin' dingleberries off
 your fuckin' ass bushes and makin' a fuckin' pie to feed to your gap
 toothed inbred fuckin' kids you fuckin' fuck yeah you yeah hair pie eat
 shit and just fuckin' die already gay daddy fucker' rainbow fuckin' walkin'
 herpes infestation pulsating sack of grease givin' away your fuckin' ass
 hairs to homos for crack dope smokin' pot bellied horse fucker you're a
 horse fucker you fuck fuckin' horses right in the mouth that's right now
 your dick is gone mother fucker the horse bit the fuckin' thing right off
 so whatchu gonna fuckin' do now huh uh huh you're nuthin' but a soap
 droppin' crusty bakin' stack of old hog bacon smack cracker that's right
 I'm talkin' to you don't make me fuckin' repeat myself mother fucker just
 cuz you can't fuckin' hear with all that fuckin' wax in your fuckin' ear
 make a fuckin' candle cuz you can't pay your fuckin' electric bill without
 suckin' some flamer's peepee mother fucker I see you're gettin' pissed off
 now fuckface whatchu gonna do about it huh what you got to say with your
 fuckin' three word vocabulary you got no teeth mother fucker you got no
 fuckin' teeth your mouth is fulla fuckin' holes like your anus your fuckin'
 ripped anus you stick smokin' gimp that's what you are that's what you'll
 always be wife neglectin' goat penis chicken choker bawk bawk bawk your
 pigs like it when you suck 'em that's right crap factory god made you on
 an assembly line with assorted kinds of shit man yeah man you fuckin' sick
 fuck whatchu gonna do about it huh huh uh huh you try an' say you're gonna
 do somethin' about it but there aint nuthin' that you can do mother fucker
 eat my steel balls eat them go on mother fucker uh huh hhuh you'll bust
 your rotten teeth uhhh eat them eat 'em fucker uh huh huh uh huh huh huh
 huh uh uh uh huh uh uhuuh uhhhhhh  uh hhuhhhhhhhh uuhhhhhh huh
 uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh huuuh

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 Date: Sat, 22 Apr 2000 06:26:33 CDT
 From: Noah Larkosh <dj_pi_rate@hotmail.com>
 To: mogel@hoe.nu
 Subject: Noah "pi-rate gets tough on stains"

 He collects his thoughts, one or two, and ponders for the moment...
 Is he an instrument of life, or a larger main component?
 Is he thinking rational, or has he gone insane?
 But if, just say, he were an object, is he a brand name?
 And if he were, would he truly be of any use?
 Or would he sit and gather dust, like a... food processor?
 Or an electric cutting knife that's much too hard to clean.
 And would he show the scratches from the abuse that he has seen?
 Would every woman need one, and is he cost effective?
 And does he have a warranty, in case he is defective?
 Will he be a passing fad, like a Pogo Ball?
 Or will he stand the test of time, like a Barbie doll?
 And what would be the sound of him... would he have a voice?
 Or does he have intelligence, turning memory into choice?
 Would they make a model, sans options, for the middle class?
 And what would he be made of? Teflon? Plastic? Steel? Wood, or glass?
 And as he ponders all of these, his goal in mind is set.
 To be a household name someday, one history can't forget.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 I WANNA FUCK YOUR FACE WITH A RAKE #1 by Kaotik

 <kaotik> hi you might remember me from other messages such as:
 <kaotik> "<kaotik> yeah"
 <kaotik> or
 <kaotik> "<kaotik> umm.."

 <ti> kaotik is on dxm
 <ti> run from him

 Umm... yeah here's some shit for your eyes to read fuckers.  I got an
 offer... actually i was told to write a file and shit, usually i don't give
 two fucks to do anything but i am kinda bored and can do this in two
 minutes.  theres a few things in life i don't like...besides all these
 fuckin internet cluebies..i also hate fat chix...why you may ask well...
 they are fat and not good to look at...you can go about life being fat and
 stuff..but when you try to dress to look good, as opposed to dressing to
 look half decent it is sad.  now if you are fat and reading this...and you
 have issues..chances are you'd be better off fucking yourself..because
 there is not much you can say that can make me feel bad, especially for
 you, fatty.

 hahahaha...i wanna fuck your fat face with a fuckin rake! YOU HEAR ME YOU
 FAT FUCK$#@AE...so anyways, i got to clubs and shit...and these fat chicks
 try to hit on me..it's depressing seeing that i am hot, and have nice
 stuff, i dress nice, and go out with models and shit...so there is no real
 chance that someone with an ego like mine and stuff like mine...and gurls
 like mine that i would want you.  i don't care if your personality is so
 good that jesus wants to come back so that he could chill with you and
 your twinkie eating friends.  sure you may call me asshole, but i call you
 fat, sure you may call me hottie, but i call you fat, sure you may wanna
 ride in my car, but i'd hate to try to even the crators outta the leather.

 umm... jenny craig..sounds good..stopping eating sounds good..there is no
 reason that you have to always order the largest ice cream suger cone from
 dairy queen, and there is no reason for you to eat ice cream anyways.  
 look in the mirror and puke...cause baby that's what you make me do.

 Now i will add some quotes to make this look fat!

 <kaotik> fat girls at yokdale?
 <kaotik> they musta broke thier irc

 <kaotik> it's just the way i am, wasting my time with average broads
          doesn't do anything for me
 <kaotik> my ex's were all models, i don't get impressed anymore

 <kaotik> i be like...you need a sugarcone threescoop double chocolate
          double dip icecream with sprinkles like i need another asshole!

 <kaotik> i don't like going for ice cream
 <kaotik> that's where uhmm really big boneded chix hang

 <kaotik> that's always good
 <kaotik> excercise
 <kaotik> you don't wanna get to be like 130lbs or something

 <iamhiphop> sup wit irc, y is there a lack of women?
 <kaotik> the irc women are not working now
 <kaotik> they went back to being fat hairy men
 <kaotik> that's why the pictures are usually so nasty

 <kaotik> well he thinks she's hot
 <kaotik> maybe he can convince someone
 <kaotik> like the guy from rainman
 <kaotik> or corky from life goes on

 <Alatar> if she has ripples, she's fat
 <Alatar> otherwise, she's voluptuous
 <kaotik> i like gurls that look like models
 <kaotik> or else after i'm done fucking them i wanna throw up
 <kaotik> i dunno if it's just me
 <Alatar> I dunno, I don't really dig the anorexic look

 piggy piggy..RUN!! i gotz a fork!

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 Title: isaac8
 Author: isaac
 date: 00.02.14

        only trust blindly the voices in your head.  before you die,
 understand why you laugh.  for then you will be well ready to die.  when
 you like what is and what is not, you are colorless.  invisable.
 invincable.  your society leaves a mark on you that can not be erased.  so
 if you leave your society, return to it, because you came from it.  return
 to the water for you come from there too.  drown in the water if you like.
 the water thinks its your mother.  and mothers can not hurt their children,
 only put then to sleep.  i speak literally.  when you go to the water.
 eat the fish.  and eat the water.  there is no ego below language or water.
 this is how you become my victum.  you will know it and i will know it
 when you become silent.  it's all over for you.  your loose grasp is gone,
 child.  fall off your stool.  now fall into the water.  now fall and be
 below me.  you are bate on my hook.
 
 <AIDS> isaac
 <AIDS> so long as I am ASSitant editor of HOE
 <AIDS> I will make every effort to keep your files from being published
 <AIDS> because they are relentless garbage
 <AIDS> HOE will no longer suffer your crap

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 "All in a Days Work" by pl0nk

 Grocery List
 ------------

 steak           condoms
 milk            cheese
 sugar           porno mag 
 fruit loops     pop
 ice cream       chips
 juice           coffee

 i decided not to buy the following items.
 instead i purchased 1 smelly old hooker.
 the cost of 1 smelly old hooker? 
 $27.89

 underneath those wrinkles, beyond the age, lies the beauty queen of the
 40's. aged like fine wine.

 heed all those who defy the lord and all those whom confine to jesus. thee
 all mighty wrath shall fall upon thee and banish ye to hell. FUCK RELIGION.
 needless to say, i don't disown religion, after all ... religion is the
 route of all evil, it creates wars, and war creates space for the rest of
 china, japan, cuba and africa. save the planet. quit having babies. let
 the human race become extinct.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 Taken from The Obloid Sphere BBS

    DATE: April, 27, 2000
      BY: Oregano
 SUBJECT: Book review

 "Invisible Man"
 Ralph Ellison
 #6 of 10
 Recommended by Mogel.

 For the most part I did not enjoy this book.  Most of the way through
 there was no compelling narrative force to drag one along, things just
 happened then more things happened.

 I understand why this is considered a classic, the writing is quite good
 and the style is so well concocted.  It is somewhere on the spectrum
 between Kafka and Terry Southern in its unreality.  There is a huge
 distance created between the narrator and the reader that I find
 disturbing.  But that is a personal dislike and I do not condemn the book
 for it, just note that I don't like that style it is too alienating for me.

 Anyway, I am glad I read it and I hope I never again have to read a book
 in this style.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 Date: Wed, 29 Mar 2000 11:21:55 -0800
 From: Paul Z <zirkle@usc.edu>
 To: mogel <mogel@hoe.nu>
 Subject: field officer 9 reporting situation hostile

 why drugs?

 we all need a drug of some sort. a substance to ingest, to assimilate. 
 one that makes our body tell our mind that we feel better than we do.
 why do we seek such shelters? are we so week? sure, my drug is soda.
 but looking at the absolute, caffeine is a drug like the next yeah.
 how can i say to someone not to do any drugs when i do one myself.
 when they asked me what i didnt do, i said i didnt smoke or drink
 or do drugs, or date girls (no im not gay), but that i eat meat.
 and i drink soda, i know i shouldnt eat meat.. only because its
 ecologically irresponsible though, not cause of that 'sentient
 creatures shouldnt be eatten' crap.. have you ever seen hills
 of cow dung? ever wonder what fills america between the east
 and west coast? hills of cow dung that you can smell in any
 direction for miles and miles! so despite this knowledge i
 listen to my body's urges, telling me i want meat, but my
 brain tells me otherwise, doesnt it? too bad my brain is
 so much smaller than my body, or else i might saddle up
 to my own measured glory. sure i set my standards high
 but it's neccessary for me--i cant justify my elitism
 without having some sort of elite critera over main-
 stream humans. so while i suppose my self-righteous
 additude gets in the way, at least i try to give a
 basis for it. its so much more satisfying looking
 at those drunken frat members dead on that floor
 if you are flat sober. fucking frat boys ran by
 a dog on the street a while ago.  dragged that
 dead corpse across the way to hide it between
 two parked cars. the dog's mate came and sat
 by it until it too died. i use this as some
 great source of righteous indignation used                      not to do
 to seperate myself from a group that i do       i choose        you know?
 not wish to be associated with. its alot        a thing
 easier to hate what they did while they         its just
 were drunk because i haven't and will never be drunk. 

       ..ahem, so where was I? oh yes,
 something about i do drugs just like
 everyone else. i suppose in the end
 the point is not what i do do, but
 what i dont do that makes it okay
 so that as long as i 

 	aw fuck it. free orgasms for everyone!

 define yourself by who you aren't. and make love to a leprichane.
 if its spelt wrong, you probably read it wrong.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 Date: 19 Mar 2000 00:39:57 -0800
 From: Bob <bobl@giantsfan.com>
 To: mogel@hoe.nu
 Subject: What would my hell would be like

 here's my submission... go ahead and reject it like a 400 pound hooker...

 run run run run run run run run
 run in the morning run in the night
 run while the children scream in fright
 run from the beggars who just need a dime
 run for the border, where the honeys are fine
 that man over there
 he's running scared
 he thinks his car
 won't take him far
 so he's running for his life
 forgetting friend child and wife
 he really doesn't care
 it was too much for him to bear
 all the people sit and stare
 watch him run to their lair
 his shoes toes feet falling off now
 how does he run how could I know how
 he runs so fast his shadow is panting
 he runs so fast his captor is repenting
 people notice people care
 as he runs into the maw of the great great bear
 watch in horror while he runs towards the cliff
 cheer and applaud when he dives off the precipice
 he's just a clown to the beautiful people
 running naked running scared
 he's exposed for all the world to see
 but no one looks no one sees
 he's just a begger on his knees
 asking the bear for just one for free
 getting told no, he can't have a seat
 seats are only for those who have beat
 the amazing odds that they would be ugly
 smart nice kind and homely
 the man dives off the precipice into the big hole
 is eaten by the bear, body whole
 the people stand and cheer for his aching
 and sit down and wait for the next big thing
 
 -Mr. Mojo Risin'

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 REFLECTION by Y-WiNDoZE

 Okay here is what I am writing for you. This is a transcription of a
 conversation between my friend Tom and I.

 c: That's back before there was TV.
 t: I thought you were just poor and lived in a trailer.
 t: CHRIS IS WHITE TRASH CHRIS IS WHITE TRASH
 t: *giggle*

 Tom is a faggot.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 ORANGE PEELS by aster

        "hello" said mister f. rog guts

        "oh hello rog!" said his friend mister squid guts.

        and then they both started to smell and rot.  and before they knew
 it, the humans had thrown them into a pile of garbage and they died.  but
 when the humans threw them away, they also accidentally threw a very
 precious stone into the garbage with them.  the stone was worth lots and
 lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of money.  they quickly realized
 what they had done, sent out millions of search robots.  all these robots
 found the treasure and traded it in for power. they killed all the humans
 and when it was over scriced themselves and blew up the earth.  when the
 sun exploded the earth died too and that was it.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 FUN WITH POLITICS by tis

	I had a lovely conversation with my ancient aunt on Easter
 regarding politics.  In attempt to strike a heated debate, I suggest the
 subject of Elian Gonzalez.
	As she carefully spat out random words, smacking her chewing-gum
 and staring at the corner of the ceiling, I came to the realization that
 I was receiving the most intellectually stimulating response I could
 expect from a woman of her age.
	"I heard about this Elian guy yesterday.  Randy read about him in
 the drudge report.com or something.  I can never remember internet words.
 Well, anyways, there is this Fidel Castro fella in Puerto Rica (that is
 Elian's dad).  He's a horrible father to let Elian run away like that.
 Randy used to always say, 'Midgets should be kept on leashes.  You never
 know where they will end up!' and I suppose in this case he ended up in
 Miami!  That is a superb of Florida.  His grandpa, Mr. Reno, discovered
 him running amuck in downtown Daytona, throwing eggs at a kind fisherman.
 The fisherman gave him a good thwap!  Mr. Reno scooped up the midget and
 carried him back to their family's house in Washington DC.  He put his
 foot down at Elian's behavior and locked him in a closet accompanied by a
 United States Federal Agent with a gun.  I don't pity Elian at all.  Some
 people deserve their punishments, and Elian was definitely one of them.  
 I hear he used to be featured on a cable access show hosted by Howard
 Stern. Good thing he only drank Sprite then.  Lots of people are on
 television....like that Alanis Morrisette woman.  Good Lord Almighty, her
 name is synonymous with SPAWN OF SATAN, I swear.  Anyways, three days
 later, Elian got a new fashionable haircut.  That very day Fidel came to
 kidnap Elian, but the little man got smart and hit him over the head with
 an inner-tube.  Some people say that is the worst way to die.  Two by
 two, good people are descending into hell, like the animals on Adam's
 arch.  First Hoover, now Castro.  What is this world coming to?"
	I had no choice but to smile and reply, "of course".

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 does lycra melt at absolute zero?  a treatise by wyclepht palate.
 SPECIAL FILE BY KRNL

 it was another blustery august day as i skulked down the liquid pavement,
 waving the fluttering postmen out of my face with a laconic sneeze.  we
 could all see the ombudsman circling above.  it was a portent of darkened
 enmity as the hail of pokemon balls started. what savages felcher remarked
 off somewhere down the tunnel to the right.  a stentorian blare, a naked
 mare trotting down the street carrying some sort of bionic appendage ripped
 off of lee majors after a night of wild turkey and poker.  there was my
 love, dressed just like V.I.C.K.I., ready and willing to be plugged into
 120VAC for a little mechanical animal.  please she bleated, just one more
 tired popular culture reference?  dangle that rabbit in front of the
 greyhound, what do you expect as i folded my face into a satchel and
 packed for paris.

 but how can this occidental valise accommodate all the pantaloons accrued
 over years of subterranean gnome stalking?  they really do have fashion
 sense.  it is readily evident that the suburban police carry concealed
 brandy snifters.  n'ary a lad who wasn't forced to take the devil's juice
 straight up as a punishment for hooligan acts.  my brow furrowed.  i knew
 that i had to strum out an A7 to enter the store and i couldn't remember
 if she could clutch that chord in her arms.  some sort of holdover stench
 of patchouli hovel complete with intrinsic light show.  plastic beads, or
 were they long spaghetti strings, or stretched out asps?  feeling each set
 of reptilian eyes focus, forked tongues flicking to divine, fangs filled
 with venom, and the lunge, strike, frigid meat locker air blaring over the
 morrissey.  WHY DO WE SODOMIZE THE CANADIANS?  was that a rhetorical
 question? aren't all questions rhetorical?  slug down another tapioca
 pudding for the road the overly homosexual clerk waffles.  you think you
 can fool me with that poison pudding.  both you and i know that the
 cassava plant is one of the deadliest in nature, and yet you want me to
 consume this pudding made out of its foliage.  tough luck klaus von
 sparkie.  as if i were the cuban eye popper or something.  you don't even
 understand bitmasking the curmudgeon burned into my muttonchop sideburns.  
 i should have shaved the unibrow years ago or at least polished it up for
 show with some top shelf bear grease.  but neither plan materialized and i
 was left to front crawl in a bathtub filled with my own eyelashes.

 but where is the direction, shylake guffaws in the distance, summoning a
 small tsunami to dash the hopes of immigrants everywhere.  the bank can't
 even cash checks these days.  asinine clerks have already seen four score
 parade through in fedoras and fiberglass boas.  i think the pumps make my
 calves look sexI.  perhaps i should wax my navel again.  my navel always
 seems to come in handy when i am trying to negotiate with insipid tellers.  
 why don't i get pierced where no one will ever see,that would be a cool
 way to be trendy yet introverted, perhaps i should pick up another pair of
 sketchers to go with this happy meal frisbee.  i guess we all want the
 conveniently choakable prize to lodge down the collective windpipe until the
 ever mysterious duck tape (the close, well, inbred cousin of the versatile
 duct tape) materializes to penetrate innocent bystanders.  in a puff of
 smoke, and with emperor ming flourish, shylake is whisked away to fanfare
 for the not-so-common man.  and the street breaks out into some sort of RKO
 affirmative action chorus line.  even winslow in his custom mod 40%
 aftermarket rascal is joining in.  great to see the gimps and freaks
 main streamed.  OF COURSE I WANT A BALLOON YOU FUCKING CLOWN. as i lick the
 turpentine from my eyebrows i feel a longing to be somewhere else. seated
 on a dromedary, ready to deliver my offerings of C4 and dmT to the final
 solution, i was struck with a purpose.  more accurately, i was beaten
 senseless with a purpose.  i needed to incorporate the mortal coil in a
 country bedspring plan.  often overlooked by the 'cosmopolitan' populous
 as one of those bougiosie pedestrian topics, the layout of box springs is
 as fascinating a subject as the dimple configuration on a 1972 spaulding
 tripple FlitE golf ball.  not only a denizen but also a client, i had the
 pleasure of attending the forty third annual conference of box spring
 engineers.  men (reportedly there was a woman as well) so driven by the
 need to attain the perfect distribution of box springs to satisfy varying
 weight loads.  i saw standard deviations, load distributions, and what
 looked like some sort of four foot long female pleasure device (or is
 female massage aide the PC term?  ask the WSJ).  one of the engineers
 snapped, modified the remote control for the instant-adjustable bed,
 crushing himself inside its billowing arms.  this purpose sucks.

 onto encasing that poodle in lucite.  the problem is that you must drug
 the poodle before dropping her into the cooling liquid.  but you need to
 pay close attention to freezing its limbs in place with some sort of
 liquid nitrogen contraption so the animal doesn't spaz as their skin
 bubbles and boils.  i have lost four poodles and a second cousin that way.
 i think they are trying to taunt me with the polyurethane bars, dangling
 them in front of my face like the cattle prod of desire.  BRAND ME SEDGWICK
 i don't understand why these punks have yesterday's headlines in their
 hair. the gnomes had better fashion sense as the deft simian pulls together
 a few totally unrelated threads for the muffled applause (golf clap?) of
 the four hundred dollar a plate audience.

 i put the fucking quarter dollar on the counter vishnu, now give me my
 daily fix.  two mid 80s popular snack cakes later i was zooming. i felt
 like one of the corey's right before, during and after all the coke and
 whores.  now i think one of them is dead and one of them wears pride
 rings.  i could be mistaken, as none of my facts are based on facts.
 however, i have an inane ability to make it believable.  i convinced some
 octogenarian that the challenger disaster was caused by sucking a mid sized
 frank purdue pullet in through the booster intakes.  sucks to you richard
 feynman and your smoke and mirrors 'scientific method' we all know that
 you were free basing with david crosby up until your untimely death of
 natural causes (liver failure).  what is with all these side comments a
 ringtail lemur remarked from a hole in the corner nickelodeon.  thomas
 alva would never have approved of this wanton defilement of cinema.  why
 are the feral marmosets galloping down the silver surfer's swathe?  is
 this just another day of bad monkey/good monkey?  i crush one of their
 skulls with ambivalence so i could record the sound.  it would fit
 perfectly looped underneath the baseline.  and children could be
 subconsciously led to the minions of satan without exerting effort.  so
 seamless these days little suzi-q whips out the 72rpm of sacrilege,
 desecration and fecund malevolence.  i would have thrown misogyny in
 there, but that is just not an accepted facet of popular culture.

 why can't i play faster one of the yamaha rice bikers slants through the
 conversation.  please sir, may i have another logical fallacy to go with
 my meagre helping of rotten grammar and random punctuation?  i whistle
 innocently trying to attract the constable to the jew raping his
 grandmother with an unbreakable ruler (which of course snapped and lodged
 into her diseased gash, but that is another story entirely about misleading
 capitalist fantasies and inflatable puppies).  i could smoke this summer
 haze, lighting it into a chain reaction inferno at head level.

 that would be too logical an ending of existence.  slightly less probable
 than the resurrected jack paar in a g-string commanding two
 my-little-ponies and one of the lesser transformers (soundwave?) to his
 unholy bidding. carve a pentagram in my forehead and call me shirley, that
 would be a hot date with apocalypse.  i am getting duncan heinz already
 she shivered as i remembered that the window was open and she was asking
 me what i thought about again.  nothing. that is the default answer.  you
 can't tell her that the unicorn scene is the only one you saw in blade
 runner.  from the other side of a glass pane, which person was in
 captivity.  but i could be sucked through in a sanguine deluge.  she can't
 see the flip side kid video. mmm.. that was some good nyborg as he slices
 off a detached reference meant to divert attention from the answer.  
 pulling back and switching the external interface into one of the
 GirlTalk(tm) AI contexts.  of course i am interested as i twiddle the
 sides of razor cliffs and skate helplessly across glassy ponds led by a
 team of comic book abortions into the realm of the government contrived
 daylight savings time.  why doesn't the sun set like it used two?  now it
 passes out from intoxication, slouching towards biblical allusion.  harder
 pussycat, mute mute mute.  why don't the buttons work, i just swapped out
 the sardines last night.  but they needed to be in mustard sauce?  how was
 i supposed to understand the mustard sauce reference i gloated at some
 smug law official come to get my jane doe for the transvestite census.
 he tried to turn up the corners of his stapled-on lips as an external
 sign of empathy, but NO DICE.

 and my coffee mounts its steed towards perfection, styled as the opus
 of a renaissance master.  slightly rubenesque in its salivation towards
 foodstuffs, but still able to slip into its size one.  no more hardtack
 for betsy said the treacle faerie.  time for another context switch to
 dream plane delta where chuck norris greets me in lace and garters.  it
 just wasn't the right day for sensual band-aid application, nor was it the
 day for auto-asphyxiation by coat hanger.  please ian, get down off that
 cold block of ice.

 this must be the nexus bob barker drones as the wheel pulsates towards
 the magical one dollar spin.  why wasn't your show adjusted for inflation
 you fucking coot?  i still feel hostess warm cavorting on the shag 70s set
 of that delicious game show.  why don't your assistants take it up the ass
 bob?  inquiring minds want to know.  i bet they are saving themselves for
 a disgusting spread in GENT.  at least i have a gold-level subscription.
 seat me in the front of the plane with the other distinguished flyers so i
 can be one of the first crushed as we crumple like a coke can.  i feel
 equally as safe with doctors.  lets pop a few more ludes and open this
 sorry JOHN Q PUBLIC.  hey, don't forget the anaesthetic again beatrice.  
 the last corpulent flatulator was a real screamer.  nurse, intern,
 fucktoi, can i get another adjective please, my improbably conjugal usage
 has quickly drained the powers of my thesaurus.  grammar is for editors
 you superficial twat.  i bet this little ditty will come out as pureed as
 estell's metamucil/barbiturate cocktail.  ride the comet you orally fixated
 milkmaids.

 you will lap it up you insidious muff divers.  we all know that you are
 secretly labeled gentiles and intend to prance down the bricks of piety.
 scroll down again so you can start replying to the classified ads.  
 severely overweight womyn seeks hirsute troglodyte for discrete games of
 akari warriors: cheat codes a must.

 left right left right up down up down b a select start?  or was that
 for punch out.

 i must be in smit.  gently place the white hot ember on the tongue.
 do not worry, science will protect.  hey, don't swallow that you coddled
 monkey. the umbrella of science doesn't extend to the ignorant.  it is one
 of those cheap ones that only one person can stand under and has a
 propensity for turning inside-out in a strong wind.  cheap taiwan fare.  
 nuke formosa i say but then i think better and remember that my burgeoning
 collection of hot wheels and matchbox would be castrated by defcon 1. time
 to hide in my space capsule. in my pajamas with the feet everyone knows
 about but no one can quite accurately describe.  and my brain screams in
 agony.  just another aneurysm.  maybe i can feel the pressure building up.
 maybe this is the end.  but lets not be so predictably goffik and angsty
 with a side of strawberry jam.

 remember, savage ferrets wield garden weasels in the revolution.

 and we are a culture inculcated with infomercial prattle until ginsu
 knives, catchy phone jingles, and cultural icon ron popeil are the
 fabricated dieties.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 _Waltz #2_ by Natasha Abner

 i like to sing myself
  to sexless sleep
  and cheap prostitute dreams of
  haha
  i lost a tooth
  man,
  can you believe that
  propganda book jacket

  you're interested in touching me
  and i'm interested in poetry
  sweet pea
  screaming, naked and masturbating
  the benefits of vitamin L on
  your red blood cells
  of contentment
  can you touch your naval
  with your big toe
  while doing the hokey pokey
  and your left foot in
  does it have a lid on it

  does it make you feel good
  your smiling pills
  and frowning bosom
  of silicone hip replacement surgery
  to increase longevity
  and make you suffer
  that much more
  of white trash trailer trash
  literary trash from
  mexico city, baby
  where the needles are all sterile
  'cause the dark gals got
  alcohol for blood
  and mama for comfort
  in senior class cotton picking
  t-shirt proclaiming the
  existence of elvis and
  buddy holly and
  the existence of
  ralph nader on other
  planets of appealing doom
  and atmospheres to ho
  hop hop hop into
  your jugular in a
  cartoon boat of swans
  down the tunnel of
  regurgitated relativity
  and everyone's in the dark
  damn baby
  hit me with an atlas
  shrugged against my socialism


 _Untitled_ by Natasha Abner

 i dance in my sockless bonemia of wonder
 while the brigade of khaki soldiers
 play
 their feather  drums
 and you discuss your existential buddhist
 catholicism
 of surfer Dalai Lamas
 and we're mad
 to live and burn and breathe
 pollutants a^2 + b^2 = c^2
 oh
 Mr. Pythagoras
 will you kiss me
 and let your brown coarse beard
 tickle my chin
 and whisper sweet poetry in my ear
 while the uv rays frolic on the hoods
 of cars
 and the guitar strings pluck sweetly
 the song of
 green tea in the distance

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 "The Cabbie" by Vlaad

	Manhattan, April 24 2000 -- driving to New York this fine evening,
 on a divine quest for White Castle.
 	"I should have told Danni that we were going to New York!" I tell
 me passenger, Kris.  She's in parties.
	"You know, that chick from Hell who dances on the platform.."
	12:00, midnight.  I find Times Square as easily as usual.
	"Excuse me, Officer, do you know where there's a White Castle
 around here?"
 	"46th, 47th, and 8th."
	I'm enjoying my first cigarette in a few weeks. Very drunk on
 rum.  Mount Gay, good shit.
	Ahh, my first bite.  The food of the gods.  I close my eyes and
 lean my head back.
 	"Only you would drive two hours in the pouring rain for a fucking
 hamburger, Adam."
	The cabbie wore a towel on his head. 
	"You are the fucking whore-tit, you fucking ass loser!"
	Apparently we were supposed to get in the cab with the skinhead
 and not the towel head.  He had been next in line.  But somehow I knew
 that this man would give my passenger a more interesting first time in
 New York.
	The streets smell like urine.  My passenger follows me, and I
 assure him that I know where I'm going. 
 	Anyone could shoot us in the back.  No one cares who you are in
 these alleys.
	"Fortunes told!  Special, $5!"
	I wander into the small door, leaving my friend out in the hall.
 The woman offers me the deck of cards.  I shuffle, and she begins to deal
 my life, scattering it all over the glass table, which is cloudy with
 resin from years of cocaine abuse.  She tells me about my lost loves, my
 crushed dreams.  She tells me how my father and I could never relate to
 each other, how distant my mother is.  I begin to cry.  I cry and cry.
	"Tell me your two wishes."
	Back at home.  Drunk and exhausted after driving four hours in
 torrential rain. 
	"She wanted $250 to fix me spiritually."
 	"Spiritual healing my ass."
	"What did you tell her your two wishes were?"
 	"Kris, my friend--some day we will get drunk with God.  We will
 eat White Castle burgers and fuck and swim and talk with old friends, and
 make peace with lost loves.  And then, later on, at the end of eternity,
 when everything settles down and the sun begins to rise again, giving
 breath to a new age--THEN I will be able to tell you what I wish for."

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 uhh by drh

 HI THIS IS MY FIRST TIME EVER WRITING AN ARTICLE FOR THE GREAT ZINE H0E
 i think its proper that i write for hoe, because i am a hoe.
 ill phone bone your mom, and eat out your sister when shes on the rag.
 because im a crazy coricidin goblin that will scan your networks for
 imap then come on irc and brag when i finally exploit a redhat box
 set back as my fingers move and my brain doesnt, this is idiocty in its
 purest form, i'm a goblin, i feel like a lizerd because i just do.
 ok that's all for this article. bye.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 Date: Fri, 2 Jun 2000 02:41:30 EDT
 From: Spliquidliquid@aol.com
 To: hoe@hoe.nu
 Subject: HOE SUBMISSION

 Multiple Inferiority Disorder

 Lock the bedroom door behind you when I'm not home
 Because I love you
 You're my poopshit
 We never can tell what he'll do next
 You tell me he'd kill  someone just to see what its like
 And so I ask,
 You're not serious are you?
 There's always some neurotic or another around me
 What about those nightmares I keep having?
 About the previous one
 He's always around the corner
 Lurking right behind me
 I felt a pressure in my head
 Pushing both in and out simultaneously
 Like phantoms trying to molest my soul
 I'm leaving the paint out just in case you get bored
 Will you use it?
 I know where the paint is
 I know  your tricks, my little jackass
 Maybe I will go back to her
 I say, Good
 Go conquer your old demons
 We're both conspicuously broken
 You're trying to beat me at my own game
 Turn my tricks back on me
 That's so cute
 I hear everything, you know
 And so I ask,
 She's always going to be there isn't she?
 Skulking in the shadows of my brain
 I know you mask reality with your silly jokes
 I didn't miss you yesterday, you know
 I wanted to hide from you
 In empty colorless stairwells
 Because we have Philistines
 Multiple inferiority disorders
 Personalities sprinting from past to present to future
 I don't know what it takes to get what I want
 Belief systems prove it to distant
 We're both a little funny in the head
 The Christians
 I laugh every time you say that
 That's why I love you
 And that movie wasn't so bad
 And Papa bear took that golden hair
 And made a sweater for baby bear
 Iggy, Iggy, Iggy
 You make my boyfriend laugh with your antics
 Oh yes, I know
 I've lost a little touch of reality
 What good is it to me anyway
 Money is the key to happiness
 Even we  know that
 Nepal is just a fuel tank away my dear
 Scotland, and Ireland awaits you
 I'll be waiting, I'll be waiting too
 I can be a very patient girl
 My creativity knows no bounds
 I can try and try and try
 But I don't like it when I hear that voice
 It breaks my concentration
 Shifts things around in my head
 I know who I am to you
 But maybe you love her more
 I can only postulate her factors
 At least we've got the Christians to save us
 I wouldn't ever give you ultimatums
 We don't work that way
 But you left the bread open yesterday, again
 It's already getting crusty
 I know your tricks my little poophead
 Laugh at me, because I'm so cute
 And the visions keep coming full force
 Moping around my girl brain
 With my girlish hormones
 Is there anything else?
 And I tell you,
 I don't have to agree with you
 Or like the things you say
 All I have to do is love you and ignore the rest
 Escapism, maybe, but It works
 I can attest to that
 A Philistine, well, its just a real dirty person
 I watched that movie three times
 While you were on the phone with one
 And I cried my little girl tears
 Cradled in my little girl chair
 Dreaming of pretty monsters taking you away
 It won't happen
 Delirious, ramblings of hopeless hormones
 Oh just stop, its  going to drive you nuts
 I'm going to come home and find you in here
 Looking at her picture, rocking back and forth
 Smearing feces in your hair
 I laugh at that, how can I not
 I love you, sometimes I love you a lot
 Everything jumbles together like marbles
 Clunking around in my chest
 I just don't want it to fall apart
 But it can
 Irrational terrors always creeping up my spine
 Sound patterns adhering to create a nervousness
 Every time I hear it all my brain waves scramble
 Polluted by other lives with other philistines
 Who are those other worldly philistines
 Who are these daily Christians
 I guess we'll keep the Christians and the philistines together
 After all, we don't really have a choice

 -Spliquid Liquid

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 3y3 4m l3gend by Darks1de

	You see me comin and you can't remember my name, cuz you never
 touched my skillz and never had my game! Respected by the el33t and
 ph34red by l4m3!

	Hit the scene back in Nin3tY-0n3.  Soon I was crashing every bbs
 under the mothafuckin sun, for fun, better gitch yo gun!  Punk ass
 Renegade Sysops! I got you on the run!

	40 year old loozers living with their moms, 14 year WaReZw0lvEz
 trying to make bombs.  All these motherfuckers trying to play gods!  Give
 me some shit cuz you got a big ego, but what do you know, ho, shove a
 virus up yo backdo'!  Crashed so many boards that i set the fuckin record,
 that's right mothafucka, and my record was kept0r3d.  Cuz you know i'm in
 it to win it, I c4n tYp3 iN /<-RaD aT 90 w0rDz p3r m1nUt3!  Shelling to
 dos while slammin d0wn a beer uN huh just as you thought, my handle was
 ph34r!

	Then i moved on, to bigger and better things, partied with the
 legends and ran with the kings.  Set Tone Loc to hang up after 5 rings!  
 Dialed into Michnet, run by those mothafuckas Merit, soon i was all up in
 their systems like a motherfuckin ferret!  Broke into Western, Laurel and
 Hardy, spit out jive like an English cockney!  Arbornet, pilot, EMU and
 then GopherBLUE, that's right, i was the one who started the phrase "j00"!

        Who the fuck do you think it was?  that brought you foolbert,
 hedbangyr and the hardcore oldschool motherfuckers who busted out The
 adventures 0f CaPtaIn /<-rAd, now its ripped off by every fucking other
 hacker mag. Delerium, Hogs_Head, and Fucking Hostile, all the sinnerz with
 their microwave dinners!

	BGR and HDK, the Drain E-ZiNe and the Trenchcoat Mafia, Twenty-six
 dead and I still ain't got caught!  or bought! or even fucking sought!

	Not to even mention Mogel, AIDS, abigwar and the whole HOE crew.
 It's true, i was running all this shit back when this whole thing was
 brand new!

	Bought Mogel's soul with Wynona Ryder, never paid up cuz i'm a
 Liar! Liar! uh-huh. yeah, a Master of Deception.  A h1p-ass m0ther-dr1p
 terrorist with no chance at redemption! w3rd!

	Left the 'zine scene for a couple of years, came back later to
 find it infested with queers.  800 zines written by angst ridden fucks,
 whining on and on about how much their life sucks.  So, I told Mogel to
 drop that lame shit DTO and bring back the H0e.  And the rest is history.
 Why did mogel kick out all the shitty writers, that's no mystery.

	Back in the day i used to get shit, bashing Emmanuel while you all
 were still on his dick!  Leeching off the underground like a motherfuckin
 tick! Whining on and on about how "information wants to be free!", then
 take your SSN and your credit cards and fax 'em to me! 1-900-3l33-t!

	All the scene whores talking about ethical hacking, cuz their
 skills are lacking, spending all their time on IRC macking, nasty ass ho's
 but they end up jacking.  off to Leisure Suit Larry six, sitting in front
 of the keyboard, stroking two inch dicks!

	Now our playgrounds filled with families and middle aged women,
 bitchin' about regulating the net to "save the children?@12!@?!@@?!"  You
 motherfuckas sat back and cheered as it happened, bashed us all for trying
 to take some action.

	This shit is goin' out to all those who were darkside before
 darkside was darkside, You know who the fuck you is!  And to all those
 bitch ass media whores out there:

	"I would not feel so all alone, everybody must get 0wned!"

	You's the same mothafuckaz that forgot about Dre! Un-hUh 2 th3
 b00gY dont drop stop the b00gY b4ng.............

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 Date: Sun, 2 Jan 2000 14:51:22 -0500 (EST)
 From: Angieb <angieb@setec.org>
 To: mogel@hoe.nu
 Subject: HOE SUBMISSION

        Pathetic in reality; yet manipulative in nature.  She is sweet
 like honey.  You lust for that sweetness, that innocence.  You wish to
 take it from her, yet so simply such a thing will indubitably never
 happen.  She has you fooled, the devil in disguise.  You yearn to hold her
 close to your breast.  To show this child the world.  You take her by the
 hand and you guide her.  She never questions anything, simply has a keen
 understanding for it all.  Love her for her indifference, yet never
 anything more.  She shall break you without a care.  Obdurate defines her
 character with no flaw.  Whisper your secrets to her for she shall tell no
 one.  She'll never forget.  Harm her and wish for sudden death.  For such
 sweetness and innocence does not exist, you could never tell the
 difference for she wears a mask, a disguise, never revealing herself to
 anyone.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 APPLES by Trimmerhead

 Why do I feel so ashamed?  
 I don't know why.  
 Its nothing to be ashamed of.
 I waited until everyone was gone, then I got ready.  
 I found what I needed to get it done. 
 It was only to make me feel good.
 No one else could get any pleasure out of it,
 but then again what did I need to get pleasure from that for?
 Its not that I wasn't finding enjoyment from other places.  
 I just don't know why I did it.  
 It just seemed so fun to do.
 No one could get hurt from it either.  
 They wouldn't be harmed, just disgusted.  
 Why oh why did I have to do it?

 All I did was take a bite out of all the apples in the bin at the store.

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 HOT AND HAZEY NIGHTS by pl0nk

 My downward spiral finally stoped and i hit the cement sidewalk with a
 stone cold thump.  its been two years and seven months since i was caught.
 i've swallowed my pride to keep my life, serving my time in Thorold
 Penn.  two beds, two inch thick mattress's, one toilet and one sink.
 no matter how bad it is on the inside, the outside is just a couple months
 away.  prison life is simple, you wake up, you shower, you eat and you go
 back to your cell, you eat, you have an hour to work out or just socialize
 with those who you trust, back in your cell, out to eat and back to the
 cell again.

 Cell number 5

 i shudder every time i pass it by.  my pride diminished and my mind a
 wreck.  they all knew what went down that one hot and hazy night.  none of
 them would ever say a word but you can see it in their eyes.  bite your
 tongue boy and don't say a word. there's nothing worse in a prison than
 some rotton cops and a big fat faggot biker.  

 my parole has come up.  they say i'll be getting out in may.  joy.

 on the outside they wait.  they wait armed with luggers and 9mms.  im the
 rat.  three of us were interrogated and two of us were sent to jail.  im the
 sly fox who's been blamed for deceit and i will pay the ultimate price.  i
 don't know what is worse, being used as a community whore or having
 someone wait on the outside, wait to shoot me in my head a couple times
 and spit on my lifeless body.

 the other day was visiting day.  my mother and father came to visit, they
 despise me, i raised you better than this son.  tears always come during
 these visits, it pains me enough to be here, but to see them and know that
 in their heads they are full of disgust and shame of their first born son,
 id rather be crucified.

 then a few friends try and make it down, usually only one or two will
 show up to see how i am.  an act of toughness is portrayed by myself as i
 hear about the happenings in the town.  pat had a kid a year ago, dave a
 kid a month ago, both engaged to their girlfriends.  my sister is in
 college as is turning out to be an over achiever.  my slayers still await,
 old friends and cousins are all away in college and university, others are
 pregnant and starting new families.

 FLASH---DARKNESS---

 there's someone over there, they're all alone... look at the purse, i bet
 there's at least fitty bones in there, lets go get her.  she was in her 30s,
 we didn't know it at the time but she was a prostitute coming back from her
 evening stroll.  at first she wouldn't give us the money and than he had
 to knock her out.  four hundred and twenty seven dollars.  we dragged her
 into the bushes and fucked her while she was knocked out and left her in
 the bushes a couple days pass and we enjoy a couple nights of drunkenness
 and drugs.  i was sleeping and it was around 2 in the afternoon, the cops
 busted down my bedroom door and took me to the cop station without giving
 me a chance to get dressed.  it turns out we killed her.

 DUFFY---LIGHT---

 lockdown.  get to sleep you fucking idiots.  i blow out the candle i had
 lit and put the book under my pillow.  i could hear my room mate jerking
 off to a playboy, he did that often, most of us did aside from a few.
 the lone screams of a virgin ass could be heard from cell number 5.
 alas, the stench has lifted.

 this article was written and is dedicated to my good friend Bill Duffy.
 We'll see you when you get there.  May 12th. 

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 "Hitler was a Sensitive Man" by Phairgirl

 [19:14] <AIDS> I miss yuou so much
 [19:14] <AIDS> er
 [19:14] <AIDS> HAHAHHAHA
 [19:15] <AIDS>  /clear
 [19:15] <cait^> ahhahahaha

 [---------------------------------------------------------- --- -- -

 REAL HELL by Zaff

        many and many years ago kurt vonnegut sold his soul in exchange for
 popularity in affluent suburbs.  now he works in hell.  though he certainly
 doesn't mind!  every night he writes and writes and every day a condemned
 soul reads what he wrote the night before and tells him through clenched
 teeth that it is wonderful.  what could be better?

        james spader does it for the love, all for the love.

 ---------------

        you went to hell for being an ass to women.  you didn't even know
 it was a sin, they seemed to like it.  but when you tried to tell satan
 that he just said that all he did was give eve a tasty treat and look
 where he ended up and then he cast you down.

        now everyday you go to your job as kurt vonnegut's editor.  but of
 course you aren't allowed to edit anything.  everyday all day you read what
 he wrote the night before, hundreds of pages, and every page a new and
 subtle reminder of how kind clever and rich is vonnegut.  everyday all day
 you read what he writes and tell him through clenched teeth how wonderful
 he is over lunch as your stomach tightens.  each day it's worse somehow,
 like when your brother used to pin you down and punch your arm until it
 bruised and then punch the bruise but worse because at least you didn't
 have to tell your brother over and over what a genius he was, or hear
 about his bouts with depression.

        when you finally get off work you have to slink over to a bar on the
 outskirts of downtown hell, but not to drink.  there is a concert.  there
 are only 23 musicians in hell and all of them play every night.  every
 night the bands play, break up, and re-form into new bands the next day
 and play that night in new combinations.  and it's all emo all the time.
 you stand in a smoke-filled room uncomfortably shifting your weight and
 longing for ear plugs and you always get trapped in the very front row.
 the worst part might be that you can never tell who is there to be
 punished, who is a demon, and who isn't even dead but just wandered in
 because they heard the guy who used to write some of the lyrics for joan
 of arc is playing that night.  so you never know who is your comrade, who
 is your enemy, and whose ass you should just kick.  it's a sea of
 disaffected faces, tight sweaters and blank faux-sensitive stares.  a rich
 blonde girl who is dressed half-grunge but has a new wave haircut walks
 around wearing a backpack, cigarette cupped to the inside, handing out
 flyers for tomorrow night's show.  you take one and she moves on.

        when the show is finally over, after 3 gut wrenching encores from
 the last band, when you fight your way to the door, it's off to your house,
 hell room 828.  you walk in and your favourite ex-girlfriend is there.
 satan tells you later she's the one who never cheated on you.  james
 spader is slumped in your corner, wearing wrinkled clothes like they're
 just a formality and smoking.  he may be pissed off or just bored, no way
 to tell in this light.  he's sullen though.

        your girl is on the bed, naked except for cowboy boots and a cowboy
 hat, just like even you were always too embarrassed to ask her to do.

        you walk over and you two begin to go at it like animals.  she is
 reaching under the bed, for a lasso, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

        the scene is unrehearsed.  just like every night since you go there.
 spader is looking down at you, grinning, pantless and with his shirt
 hanging off him unbuttoned.  he nods.  you know what is going to happen.

        you are going to go make him a sandwich, just like he likes it.
 rye bread.  plenty of ham and tomatoes.  no lettuce, generous on the
 pickles and with the good mustard.  you never think to protest, at all.

        there is something about him that implies once, a long time ago,
 somebody didn't do what he wanted and they are still picking shards of
 glass out of their sphincter.

        and as you walk away broken, as he slides into your girlie and
 thrusts hard a couple of times, he waits for her shrieks of joy to subside
 a moment and looks to you saying quietly, "don't jew me on the mustard,
 sport."

 [-------------------------------------------------------------------------]
 [ (c) HOE E'ZINE - http://www.hoe.nu - hoe@hoe.nu     HOE #1100 - 6/16/00 ]
