FREE, SO BE HAPPY AND GO YOUR MERRY WAY
Thanks for your time & effort in picking up this
piece of opinionated son of Xerox. (Or photocopied
piece of poo, if yer slightly on the "What the f**k?"
side) After a summer of doing jack all apart from
spending money on gigs/albums/drugz/aLkEyHoL and saving
a s**tload by only reading fanzines, I've decided to
get off my arse and do something. After wiping up, I
decided to make a fanzine.
But seriously folks,
Here's my first (possibly LAST) attempt at heliumbong.
Should everything halfway decent be wiped out by an
apocalyptic catastrophe or someone flushing a condom
down the toilet which would block up the sewage
system, thus flooding major cities etc., this could
quite possibly be the greatest thing on earth, apart
from Caffeine and other well known synthetic stimulants.
Sorry if this issue seems a bit shite (Probably because
it is) I'll make a better attempt next time. Promise.
Anyway, during the past few weeks, I've started using
the DART coz my girlfriend (She's better than a whole
box of Jelly Tots) lives in Bray. (It's an arse living
in Sandyford. Having to leg it a cross a muddy field
finding a bus stop & being threatened by knackers
armed with a rubber band and being told to...
"Giv us all yar muney, ar yill ge' dis. Roi?"Enter 8ft 'brothers'
*high pitched voice* "no. sorry. here. have my bus fare."
"Christ. I could do more damage with my cock!"
"Wha? Yew laffin' a' us?"
...and then getting a DART. F*x sake.) Anyway... it's a
s**tload more interesting on the DART than it is on the
bus. People are alot more friendly and less likely to
stuff a syringe filled with ominous bodily fluids up
you. Or anything else, come to think of it. *shudder*
Loads of cool people start talking to ya
for no reason
at all. Class. Last Saturday some guy from America, a
skater type bloke starts talking to me.
bloke. Had a dollar stuck to his board. Off to Shankill
to meet some girl he met the other night... His some
was Don or Dar. Don't remember. Now, people like that
talking to ya is grand, but when old people start
telling you that...
"In my day, we didn't have snazzy trains like this.
People of your age should be grateful. *GAK* My Heart!
*Manical laughter followed by sound of trying to stuff
corpse through window*
...ya really want to boot them up the fake teeth.
Well I do anyway. Well if ya see me (Bloke with dark
hair, ponytail to shoulders, Leather Jacket, Combats
& Dox) on the DART or the 44/44C or even hanging around
Temple Bar as I did alot over the summer, just wiggle
your fingers and say "Hello Bloke", and maybe, *just*
maybe I'll wiggle my fingers back.
If yer not bored enough, I'll just mention a few names
and give a little wiggle of the fingers to:
My little sex puppet - Alison, Intellectual B**tard -
Glenn, Short haired freak - Donal, Blue Haired freak -
Pierce, Yar Ded - Matthew, Girlie with no hair -Dan,
Other girlie with no hair - Kate, Rampant Bulls**tter -
Colin, Oi 4 skinz, oi 4 punx, oi oi oi! - Danny, Sorry
for not ringing ya in a while! -Eoghan, Bearded Lady -
Abey, Gis yar lunch - Shane, Yet another American -Anne
& loadsa ppl who I've left out. Don't kick me in. I'm
I'll see ya so.
Anyway, if ya wanna see something here, or want to
complain about the over use of the word 'Anyway' or
if you just wanna be my fwend, then send pigs hearts
entwined with barbed wire, burning newspaper with shite
inside it and letter bombs (Just send us a fucking
letter will ya, yis lazy cunts!) to:
Leopardstown Road, Sandyford, Co.Dublin.
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