RMS is a plague upon the linux-using community. his ancient ideals have proved dangerous to our cause. Yet, RMS ignores our pleas to quietly step aside and let a more palatable individual take up the cause.
Only the harshest of measures will be successful in relieving us of this hemorrhoidal tissue, better known as Richard M. Stallman. Here is my plan, which I will tentatively title "Preparation-H."
RMS is well known for his liberal/communist leanings. We will first convince him that his presence is requested at the Kyrgyz-Russian Slavic University to discuss how Free Principles may save the wretched Russian economy. RMS will accept this invitation like a horny Slashdotter invited to Natalie Portman's birthday party.
Of course, RMS will NEVER make it to the university. We will arrange a limosine to take him to the airport, a luxury even his fat, liberal ass couldn't pass up. The limosine will be "hijacked" (but not really, since the limosine was paid for by us anyway). We will extract RMS' white, quivering flesh from the back seat, throw it in a black trash bag and haul it to Alaska.
We will convince RMS that we are environmental activists and we have come to Alaska to save the whales. RMS will see a better publicity opportunity in doing this and gladly forget about the University lecture. With our promises of sexual favors and FREE money, RMS will agree to do whatever we ask of him.
We make RMS disrobe. We must wear protective aparatii for this process. Once RMS is naked, we will beat him over the head with a seal-club and carve the fat off of his sweating carcass.
We will take the raw RMS fat and distribute it to poor Eskimos to use as lamp-oil, thus "saving the whales" as we promised.
Once RMS is out of the way, we can adopt a NEW leader! A leader more palatable to the public! A leader that will put a pretty face on our cause! A leader that EVERY Slashdotter can look up to!
like every other so-called "open source" business out there, you fail to deliver to the community that which we hold so dear to our hearts. until your company can provide us with the one thing that unites us in common cause, i think you should refrain from carelessly throwing around the "open-source" name!
you, sony, are "in this" for the money. you are clearly dipping your whick into the vast open source fortune. do you give of yourself? do you provide the community with the ONE piece of open-source goodness that we yearn for down to our VERY SOULS?!
i think this would be a prime opportunity for you to clear the air. tell us once and for all WHAT IS YOUR POSITION?! what exactly DOES sony offer to the large population of natalie portman obsessives?! we are growing majority of the linux community and we DEMAND that you acknowledge our most intimate wants, needs and addictions.
WHAT IS THE SONY POSITION ON OPEN-SOURCING NATALIE PORTMAN?! ANSWER NOW, SONY! NOW!
mr. hemos: captain malda, i have determined that napster stories are bringing in three to five hundred comments a piece! think of the banner revenues!
captain malda: captain to engineering!
engineer roblimo: engineer roblimo here, sir.
captain malda: mr. roblimo... crank out some more napster stories!
engineer roblimo: but captain... the trained monkeys can't take much more! they're pulling them out of the queue as fast as they can!
captain malda: not fast enough, mr. roblimo!
engineer roblimo: we need more submissions!
captain malda: damnit, roblimo, just make something up!
lieutenant jamie: captain, we're receiving a transmission from an unidentified source.
captain malda: patch it through!
osm(over speaker): i want to open-source natalie portman's firm teen buttocks and pouting teen breasts!
helmsman emmett: captain... look!
an aibo approaches the compound.
lieutenant jamie: captain, the transmission is coming from the aibo!
captain malda: helmsman emmett... moderate it down: -2, flamebait!
helmsman emmett applies the moderation. the aibo pauses but keeps approaching.
osm (over speaker): your feeble moderation points are no match for the power of my modified aibo!
captain malda: engineering, we need more power in the moderation system!
engineer roblimo: but captain... the moderation system is at maximum power!
captain malda: i don't want excuses, roblimo... give me that power!
the aibo begins to move forward, a large antenna rises from the nose.
captain malda: mr. roblimo!
the antenna starts to glow.
captain malda: mr. roblimo!!
the antenna glows brighter.
engineer roblimo: captain! i have jerry-rigged the moderation system! i converted it to a bitchslap system!
captain malda: helmsman, fire!
helmsman emmett presses the fire button. just as an enormous comment begins transmitting through the speaker...
osm (over speaker): star (as in hot young actress) wars. a story of tender love. it is a period....
the transmission is terminated by the bitchslapping. captain malda relaxes.
captain malda: good work mr. roblimo!
mr. hemos: captain, sensors have detected that yeoman portman was beamed off the ship... into the aibo!
captain malda: lieutenant jamie, open a channel.
captain malda: osm! return yeoman portman at once!
yeoman portman (over speaker): blow it out your ass, dork! i want a real man! an open-source man! a man that knows how to caress my firm teen buttocks and suckle my pouting teen breasts! not a boy who has bad dreams and shits a lot!
osm (over speaker, clearly ecstatic): hahahahahahahahahahahaha! i took a bitchslapping for natalie portman! hahahahahahaahahahahahahaha! come natalie, i will take you to quicktrip and woo you with a vegetarian burrito. i will then take you to see the buffalo and touch you.
yeoman portman (over speaker): oh, open-source man! how my innocent teen heart has yearned for the tender touch of your open-source hand!
osm and yeoman portman (over speaker): hooray!
captain malda: cut that off!
the aibo turns and disappears. transmissions continue beaming from the aibo and are broadcast over the speaker.
captain malda: what the hell is the matter with that guy?!
dr. katz: damnit, rob, i'm a teen-angst zealot, not a psychiatrist!
captain malda (clearly infuriated): engineering!! where the hell are those napster stories?!!
bill gates sat at his computer. the worry over the antitrust case had weighed heavily on his shoulders for so long. bill loaded up internet explorer. he admired the sleek, user-friendly interface. he smiled at the accomplishments of his grand company as the microsoft attorneys and upper-level management bickered about the details of microsoft's remedy proposal.
bill clicked his way through the internet, sailing from one site to the next. he decided to do a search on "microsoft." 3.141 million matches. he clicked the first link and waited. slowly, the slashdot home page rendered onto his screen. he browsed the list of articles on the page.
something caught his attention. bill looked fondly upon his aibo. he clicked "read more" under a story labelled, "SONY ANNOUNCES NEW AIBO: SCIENTIFICALLY PROVEN MAGIC PETRIFICATION RAY A REALITY!" bill was intrigued by the multitude of insightful, informative, interesting and funny comments. he reached the very bottom of the page. his attention was taken by a fascinatingly titled post, "OPEN SOURCE NATALIE PORTMAN"
bill read the post. he became aroused. he thought a moment... "hmmmm. open-source natalie portman..."
bill jumped from his chair, his genitalia stimulated, his face red. he rushed down the hall and burst into the conference room. shocked, everyone looked up.
"we must be allowed to see the source of our competitors!" he screamed.
"mickey and mallory know the difference between right and wrong. they just don't give a damn." - steven wright, natural born killers.
jon katz. champion of the outcast teen. what has made him so sympathetic to the cause of the columbine killers? why has this event seemingly resonated so deeply within him? is jon just sympathetic to the life of the modern teen? or is there something more? something insidious?
these are the questions i've been asking myself as i've read katz's obsessive columbine writings. these were the questions i was asking myself as i sat mesmerized by my natalie portman poster. like a torrent of sudden rain, my spirit guides bombarded me with the heinous images of jon's life. i was so disturbed i could barely bring myself to write this.
jon was born and raised in a small, southwestern town. his father, carlito, was a mexican immigrant who worked for the department of transportation, building highways. his mother, juno, was a gypsy who earned money by performing card readings. the family made a comfortable living and jon was a happy, outgoing child, who even contributed to the family income by cleaning dog excrement from the neighborhood sidewalks.
carlito was a hard-worker. in fact, he worked too hard. one particularly hot, sunny day, he was overcome with heat exhaustion. the incident had changed carlito forever. the charming, jovial, caring carlito became a vile, egomaniacal, misogynist. carlito soon lost his job and spent the rest of his days lounging around the house.
the first incident of abuse happened when jon was but 6 years old. juno had lured a siamese cat into the house. she let the cat roam around until it was time for her to prepare it for the family's dinner. jon had just come home from a long day of sidewalk cleaning. carlito was laying on the couch with a 40 ounce schlitz. the putrid stench of dog manure flooded the house as jon closed the door. carlito was roused from his wrestling match. infuriated, he jumped off the couch, grabbing juno's cat by the tail. carlito stormed over to jon, who had backed himself into a corner. jon could do nothing but cry as carlito severely beat him with the screeching cat.
the more jon cried, the more carlito beat him. after fifteen minutes of abuse, carlito plunged his hand into the stomach of the dead animal and gutted it right there in front of jon. he ate the entrails and forced his stunned son to wear the pelt as a hat for the rest of the week.
the beatings continued for a few more years, at a lesser severity. until just after jon's 10th birthday. jon invited his friend ron over to spend the night. carlito would usually hide in the bedroom whenever anyone visited, so it was always a good way for jon to escape the beatings. the boys had had fun roaming the neighborhood that evening, making castles with the dog excrement they found and then pretending to be giant monsters, from a japanese science fiction movie, going on a rampage and smashing the castles. the boys played hard that night and went to bed early.
but the boys could not sleep. instead, they decided to play doctor and various other games. the laughter awakened carlito. he stormed into the bedroom and flipped on the light. there, he beheld his son on all fours with his little friend mounting him from behind. the boys were playing "dog." carlito lost control. he threw ron out of the house, sending him walking home and picked jon up by the feet.
carlito stormed outside, carrying his naked son by the feet. he rampaged throughout the neighborhood stopping any time he ran across a dog. carlito would beat hapless animal to death, using his son as a club. once again, he would plunge his hand into the dead animal, remove its organs and devour them. he then collected the pelt.
after carlito had slaughtered twenty dogs, he tied together all of the pelts into a make-shift body-suit for jon. exhausted, and with jon bruised, bloodied and crying, carlito stumbled home. carlito wrapped jon in the gruesome clothing he had made and threw him into bed. he left the room momentarily, only to return with an empty 40-ounce. he stuck the open end into jon's rectum. jon cried himself to sleep.
jon grew sullen and withdrew from his classmates. his grades slipped into oblivion. the teachers knew what the problem was, but dared not speak up. jon would sit in class, staring blankly out the window. nothing seemed to interest him. he never did his assignments. he began to arrive at school wearing ozzy osbourne and motley crue t-shirts. the faculty continued to ignore him. jon had become lost in a nether-world and none could pull him out.
none but timmy. timmy's family had recently moved into town from california. jon felt him come in the room and turned from the window to behold his first real crush. timmy was tall, muscular, tanned and blonde. it was instant love for jon. but he dared not express his true feelings. he became best friends with timmy. they did everything together. jon's emotions were tearing him apart.
jon couldn't stand it and his father had taught him well. jon invited timmy to go searching for peyote. the two wandered deep into the desert, the hot sun beating down on them. the intense heat slowly began to affect jon. he turned pale. he began to shake uncontrollably. then timmy made a fatal mistake.
timmy put his hand on jon's shoulder and asked him if he was ok. jon became enraged. he picked up a rock and hit timmy in the head with it, knocking him unconscious. jon plunged his shaking fist into timmy's stomach and removed his organs, eating them on the spot. jon then removed the skin from the withered corpse and carried back to his car.
jon kept the skin in his room, making passionate love with it at night. snuggling with it in the morning. he would whisper sweet nothings into its ear and run his fingers through its golden head of hair. jon was in a state of bliss. until carlito detected the scent of rotting flesh. jon was given another gruesome beating.
jon fell in and out of love several times throughout highschool. each of the unfortunate objects of his affections would suffer the same fate and, once they mysteriously vanished from school, jon would return to his withdrawn state. only one teacher had the courage to try to help jon his senior year of highschool.
jon had signed up for a computer class that year. his computer teacher recognized jon was troubled and took special care with him. jon soon developed a deep love for his teacher. but jon was ashamed. he couldn't quite grasp the complicated concepts that were part of the course: basic wordstar usage, lotus 123 and flipping the power switch. jon felt like a fool in front of his new love. he could not deal with his feelings.
jon began to amass a deadly arsenal in his bedroom. he collected all manner of guns, rifles and bombs. he drew a detailed map of the school and devised a plan for decimating the entire building and everyone in it. jon dreamt of becoming a notorious mass-murderer, no longer ignored. no longer a powerless worm in the eyes of his beloved mr. donacelli.
the night before "senior day." jon decided to celebrate by getting drunk. tomorrow his glorious plan would come to fruition. jon got drunk off of a gallon of cheap vodka. utterly incoherent, he climbed onto the roof of his house with the remains of his bottle and a fat cigar. he danced, naked, on the rooftop and yelled at the top of his lungs, "i'm gay, touch my balls!"
jon's father woke from his alcoholic coma, not knowing that the neighbors had called the police. he ran outside and found jon on the roof. carlito climbed the side of the house and grabbed his son by the hair, throwing him onto the ground below. carlito spotted a lizard in the grass near jon. he jumped down, caught the lizard and began to severely beat jon. the police arrived within minutes.
the police immediately took carlito into custody. they searched the house and found jon's arsenal, which they confiscated, thinking it belonged to carlito. carlito was subsequently convicted of assault and conspiracy. jon would never be beaten again.
april 20, 1999. jon sat in front of his television watching with fascination as the columbine tragedy unfolded before his eyes. wistfully, jon thought back to his days in highschool. he knew these two young men were heros. they pulled it off. an accomplishment he had only dreamt of. jon took out his pen and paper and began work on his next slashdot article.
the lack of privacy on the internet has grown to frightening proportions. i have personally suffered due to the lack of online privacy.
about a year ago, i sent a long, heartfelt email to natalie portman. i expressed my deepest emotions and offered to assasinate a top political figure to win her love.
i was astonished when i was subsequently contacted by the fbi. they knew EVERYTHING about me! THEY EVEN HAD A COPY OF THE EMAIL I SENT TO NATALIE PORTMAN! they confiscated my natalie portman film collection and my detailed blueprint of the whitehouse.
something needs to be done about our lack of internet privacy AT ONCE!
come on malda, we know what you really mean. you might as well admit it. there is only ONE hot chick of interest to slashdot. i don't think i need to mention her name (yet again).
Slashdot Mirror
The Final RMS Solution
RMS is a plague upon the linux-using community. his ancient ideals have proved dangerous to our cause. Yet, RMS ignores our pleas to quietly step aside and let a more palatable individual take up the cause.
Only the harshest of measures will be successful in relieving us of this hemorrhoidal tissue, better known as Richard M. Stallman. Here is my plan, which I will tentatively title "Preparation-H."
RMS is well known for his liberal/communist leanings. We will first convince him that his presence is requested at the Kyrgyz-Russian Slavic University to discuss how Free Principles may save the wretched Russian economy. RMS will accept this invitation like a horny Slashdotter invited to Natalie Portman's birthday party.
Of course, RMS will NEVER make it to the university. We will arrange a limosine to take him to the airport, a luxury even his fat, liberal ass couldn't pass up. The limosine will be "hijacked" (but not really, since the limosine was paid for by us anyway). We will extract RMS' white, quivering flesh from the back seat, throw it in a black trash bag and haul it to Alaska.
We will convince RMS that we are environmental activists and we have come to Alaska to save the whales. RMS will see a better publicity opportunity in doing this and gladly forget about the University lecture. With our promises of sexual favors and FREE money, RMS will agree to do whatever we ask of him.
We make RMS disrobe. We must wear protective aparatii for this process. Once RMS is naked, we will beat him over the head with a seal-club and carve the fat off of his sweating carcass.
We will take the raw RMS fat and distribute it to poor Eskimos to use as lamp-oil, thus "saving the whales" as we promised.
Once RMS is out of the way, we can adopt a NEW leader! A leader more palatable to the public! A leader that will put a pretty face on our cause! A leader that EVERY Slashdotter can look up to!
Who is this leader? Natalie Portman, of course.
thank you.
like every other so-called "open source" business out there, you fail to deliver to the community that which we hold so dear to our hearts. until your company can provide us with the one thing that unites us in common cause, i think you should refrain from carelessly throwing around the "open-source" name!
you, sony, are "in this" for the money. you are clearly dipping your whick into the vast open source fortune. do you give of yourself? do you provide the community with the ONE piece of open-source goodness that we yearn for down to our VERY SOULS?!
i think this would be a prime opportunity for you to clear the air. tell us once and for all WHAT IS YOUR POSITION?! what exactly DOES sony offer to the large population of natalie portman obsessives?! we are growing majority of the linux community and we DEMAND that you acknowledge our most intimate wants, needs and addictions.
WHAT IS THE SONY POSITION ON OPEN-SOURCING NATALIE PORTMAN?! ANSWER NOW, SONY! NOW!
one day in the "geek compound"...
mr. hemos: captain malda, i have determined that napster stories are bringing in three to five hundred comments a piece! think of the banner revenues!
captain malda: captain to engineering!
engineer roblimo: engineer roblimo here, sir.
captain malda: mr. roblimo... crank out some more napster stories!
engineer roblimo: but captain... the trained monkeys can't take much more! they're pulling them out of the queue as fast as they can!
captain malda: not fast enough, mr. roblimo!
engineer roblimo: we need more submissions!
captain malda: damnit, roblimo, just make something up!
lieutenant jamie: captain, we're receiving a transmission from an unidentified source.
captain malda: patch it through!
osm(over speaker): i want to open-source natalie portman's firm teen buttocks and pouting teen breasts!
helmsman emmett: captain... look!
an aibo approaches the compound.
lieutenant jamie: captain, the transmission is coming from the aibo!
captain malda: helmsman emmett... moderate it down: -2, flamebait!
helmsman emmett applies the moderation. the aibo pauses but keeps approaching.
osm (over speaker): your feeble moderation points are no match for the power of my modified aibo!
captain malda: engineering, we need more power in the moderation system!
engineer roblimo: but captain... the moderation system is at maximum power!
captain malda: i don't want excuses, roblimo... give me that power!
the aibo begins to move forward, a large antenna rises from the nose.
captain malda: mr. roblimo!
the antenna starts to glow.
captain malda: mr. roblimo!!
the antenna glows brighter.
engineer roblimo: captain! i have jerry-rigged the moderation system! i converted it to a bitchslap system!
captain malda: helmsman, fire!
helmsman emmett presses the fire button. just as an enormous comment begins transmitting through the speaker...
osm (over speaker): star (as in hot young actress) wars. a story of tender love. it is a period....
the transmission is terminated by the bitchslapping. captain malda relaxes.
captain malda: good work mr. roblimo!
mr. hemos: captain, sensors have detected that yeoman portman was beamed off the ship... into the aibo!
captain malda: lieutenant jamie, open a channel.
captain malda: osm! return yeoman portman at once!
yeoman portman (over speaker): blow it out your ass, dork! i want a real man! an open-source man! a man that knows how to caress my firm teen buttocks and suckle my pouting teen breasts! not a boy who has bad dreams and shits a lot!
osm (over speaker, clearly ecstatic): hahahahahahahahahahahaha! i took a bitchslapping for natalie portman! hahahahahahaahahahahahahaha! come natalie, i will take you to quicktrip and woo you with a vegetarian burrito. i will then take you to see the buffalo and touch you.
yeoman portman (over speaker): oh, open-source man! how my innocent teen heart has yearned for the tender touch of your open-source hand!
osm and yeoman portman (over speaker): hooray!
captain malda: cut that off!
the aibo turns and disappears. transmissions continue beaming from the aibo and are broadcast over the speaker.
captain malda: what the hell is the matter with that guy?!
dr. katz: damnit, rob, i'm a teen-angst zealot, not a psychiatrist!
captain malda (clearly infuriated): engineering!! where the hell are those napster stories?!!
bill gates sat at his computer. the worry over the antitrust case had weighed heavily on his shoulders for so long. bill loaded up internet explorer. he admired the sleek, user-friendly interface. he smiled at the accomplishments of his grand company as the microsoft attorneys and upper-level management bickered about the details of microsoft's remedy proposal.
bill clicked his way through the internet, sailing from one site to the next. he decided to do a search on "microsoft." 3.141 million matches. he clicked the first link and waited. slowly, the slashdot home page rendered onto his screen. he browsed the list of articles on the page.
something caught his attention. bill looked fondly upon his aibo. he clicked "read more" under a story labelled, "SONY ANNOUNCES NEW AIBO: SCIENTIFICALLY PROVEN MAGIC PETRIFICATION RAY A REALITY!" bill was intrigued by the multitude of insightful, informative, interesting and funny comments. he reached the very bottom of the page. his attention was taken by a fascinatingly titled post, "OPEN SOURCE NATALIE PORTMAN"
bill read the post. he became aroused. he thought a moment... "hmmmm. open-source natalie portman..."
bill jumped from his chair, his genitalia stimulated, his face red. he rushed down the hall and burst into the conference room. shocked, everyone looked up.
"we must be allowed to see the source of our competitors!" he screamed.
"mickey and mallory know the difference between right and wrong. they just don't give a damn." - steven wright, natural born killers.
jon katz. champion of the outcast teen. what has made him so sympathetic to the cause of the columbine killers? why has this event seemingly resonated so deeply within him? is jon just sympathetic to the life of the modern teen? or is there something more? something insidious?
these are the questions i've been asking myself as i've read katz's obsessive columbine writings. these were the questions i was asking myself as i sat mesmerized by my natalie portman poster. like a torrent of sudden rain, my spirit guides bombarded me with the heinous images of jon's life. i was so disturbed i could barely bring myself to write this.
jon was born and raised in a small, southwestern town. his father, carlito, was a mexican immigrant who worked for the department of transportation, building highways. his mother, juno, was a gypsy who earned money by performing card readings. the family made a comfortable living and jon was a happy, outgoing child, who even contributed to the family income by cleaning dog excrement from the neighborhood sidewalks.
carlito was a hard-worker. in fact, he worked too hard. one particularly hot, sunny day, he was overcome with heat exhaustion. the incident had changed carlito forever. the charming, jovial, caring carlito became a vile, egomaniacal, misogynist. carlito soon lost his job and spent the rest of his days lounging around the house.
the first incident of abuse happened when jon was but 6 years old. juno had lured a siamese cat into the house. she let the cat roam around until it was time for her to prepare it for the family's dinner. jon had just come home from a long day of sidewalk cleaning. carlito was laying on the couch with a 40 ounce schlitz. the putrid stench of dog manure flooded the house as jon closed the door. carlito was roused from his wrestling match. infuriated, he jumped off the couch, grabbing juno's cat by the tail. carlito stormed over to jon, who had backed himself into a corner. jon could do nothing but cry as carlito severely beat him with the screeching cat.
the more jon cried, the more carlito beat him. after fifteen minutes of abuse, carlito plunged his hand into the stomach of the dead animal and gutted it right there in front of jon. he ate the entrails and forced his stunned son to wear the pelt as a hat for the rest of the week.
the beatings continued for a few more years, at a lesser severity. until just after jon's 10th birthday. jon invited his friend ron over to spend the night. carlito would usually hide in the bedroom whenever anyone visited, so it was always a good way for jon to escape the beatings. the boys had had fun roaming the neighborhood that evening, making castles with the dog excrement they found and then pretending to be giant monsters, from a japanese science fiction movie, going on a rampage and smashing the castles. the boys played hard that night and went to bed early.
but the boys could not sleep. instead, they decided to play doctor and various other games. the laughter awakened carlito. he stormed into the bedroom and flipped on the light. there, he beheld his son on all fours with his little friend mounting him from behind. the boys were playing "dog." carlito lost control. he threw ron out of the house, sending him walking home and picked jon up by the feet.
carlito stormed outside, carrying his naked son by the feet. he rampaged throughout the neighborhood stopping any time he ran across a dog. carlito would beat hapless animal to death, using his son as a club. once again, he would plunge his hand into the dead animal, remove its organs and devour them. he then collected the pelt.
after carlito had slaughtered twenty dogs, he tied together all of the pelts into a make-shift body-suit for jon. exhausted, and with jon bruised, bloodied and crying, carlito stumbled home. carlito wrapped jon in the gruesome clothing he had made and threw him into bed. he left the room momentarily, only to return with an empty 40-ounce. he stuck the open end into jon's rectum. jon cried himself to sleep.
jon grew sullen and withdrew from his classmates. his grades slipped into oblivion. the teachers knew what the problem was, but dared not speak up. jon would sit in class, staring blankly out the window. nothing seemed to interest him. he never did his assignments. he began to arrive at school wearing ozzy osbourne and motley crue t-shirts. the faculty continued to ignore him. jon had become lost in a nether-world and none could pull him out.
none but timmy. timmy's family had recently moved into town from california. jon felt him come in the room and turned from the window to behold his first real crush. timmy was tall, muscular, tanned and blonde. it was instant love for jon. but he dared not express his true feelings. he became best friends with timmy. they did everything together. jon's emotions were tearing him apart.
jon couldn't stand it and his father had taught him well. jon invited timmy to go searching for peyote. the two wandered deep into the desert, the hot sun beating down on them. the intense heat slowly began to affect jon. he turned pale. he began to shake uncontrollably. then timmy made a fatal mistake.
timmy put his hand on jon's shoulder and asked him if he was ok. jon became enraged. he picked up a rock and hit timmy in the head with it, knocking him unconscious. jon plunged his shaking fist into timmy's stomach and removed his organs, eating them on the spot. jon then removed the skin from the withered corpse and carried back to his car.
jon kept the skin in his room, making passionate love with it at night. snuggling with it in the morning. he would whisper sweet nothings into its ear and run his fingers through its golden head of hair. jon was in a state of bliss. until carlito detected the scent of rotting flesh. jon was given another gruesome beating.
jon fell in and out of love several times throughout highschool. each of the unfortunate objects of his affections would suffer the same fate and, once they mysteriously vanished from school, jon would return to his withdrawn state. only one teacher had the courage to try to help jon his senior year of highschool.
jon had signed up for a computer class that year. his computer teacher recognized jon was troubled and took special care with him. jon soon developed a deep love for his teacher. but jon was ashamed. he couldn't quite grasp the complicated concepts that were part of the course: basic wordstar usage, lotus 123 and flipping the power switch. jon felt like a fool in front of his new love. he could not deal with his feelings.
jon began to amass a deadly arsenal in his bedroom. he collected all manner of guns, rifles and bombs. he drew a detailed map of the school and devised a plan for decimating the entire building and everyone in it. jon dreamt of becoming a notorious mass-murderer, no longer ignored. no longer a powerless worm in the eyes of his beloved mr. donacelli.
the night before "senior day." jon decided to celebrate by getting drunk. tomorrow his glorious plan would come to fruition. jon got drunk off of a gallon of cheap vodka. utterly incoherent, he climbed onto the roof of his house with the remains of his bottle and a fat cigar. he danced, naked, on the rooftop and yelled at the top of his lungs, "i'm gay, touch my balls!"
jon's father woke from his alcoholic coma, not knowing that the neighbors had called the police. he ran outside and found jon on the roof. carlito climbed the side of the house and grabbed his son by the hair, throwing him onto the ground below. carlito spotted a lizard in the grass near jon. he jumped down, caught the lizard and began to severely beat jon. the police arrived within minutes.
the police immediately took carlito into custody. they searched the house and found jon's arsenal, which they confiscated, thinking it belonged to carlito. carlito was subsequently convicted of assault and conspiracy. jon would never be beaten again.
april 20, 1999. jon sat in front of his television watching with fascination as the columbine tragedy unfolded before his eyes. wistfully, jon thought back to his days in highschool. he knew these two young men were heros. they pulled it off. an accomplishment he had only dreamt of. jon took out his pen and paper and began work on his next slashdot article.
thank you.
the lack of privacy on the internet has grown to frightening proportions. i have personally suffered due to the lack of online privacy.
about a year ago, i sent a long, heartfelt email to natalie portman. i expressed my deepest emotions and offered to assasinate a top political figure to win her love.
i was astonished when i was subsequently contacted by the fbi. they knew EVERYTHING about me! THEY EVEN HAD A COPY OF THE EMAIL I SENT TO NATALIE PORTMAN! they confiscated my natalie portman film collection and my detailed blueprint of the whitehouse.
something needs to be done about our lack of internet privacy AT ONCE!
thank you.
come on malda, we know what you really mean. you might as well admit it. there is only ONE hot chick of interest to slashdot. i don't think i need to mention her name (yet again).