From: news@uflorida.cis.ufl.edu (USENET Master)
Newsgroups: alt.slack
Subject: I can't stand it anymore
Date: 23 Jul 92 04:45:01 GMT
Organization: the DESK of the BOB 9000 Series Computer

I can't stand it anymore
the way the lilt in your hair
always catches all the sun's glare
You smell wonderful.
You smell like frop.
and not the green kind, but the red.

I can't stand it anymore
when I keep giving gifts away
just to hear the words that you'll say
you'll stay with me for a while
Please invite me into the far, far corners of your mind
to where I can suck upon your brain most easily

I can't stand it anymore
the sucking sounds your eyeballs make
as you awake and your breasts shake
and i kiss them and the pop right out of your skull
and into my waiting hungry mouth.

I can't stand it anymore
with this heaven pipe swat in my lungs
and heaven tastebud on my tongue
while you are so close
and your teeth taste delicious
I can tell that must be Crest, my love.

I can't stand it anymore
above and far away behind
I thought I saw but I was blinded
by your inestimable beauty, oh love
Today I am oral and passive, darling,
please educate me once again.

i can't stand it anymore
i type the words in lowercase except for YOUR NAME
which I over capitalize like the once mentioned, fleeting Kibo-
behind-his-back

I can't stand it anymore
amidst the wayward summer breeze
I feel I'm trembling at my knees
simply for you stand there by my side
and I am overcome with you grace
and the XTC with thee, my love.

I can't stand it anymore
though I've got mail on a dif'rent node
My testicles shall soon explode
and swell and burst with love transfixed
beyond our minor frames and toward
the unknown, unbegotten future
I love you more than rice.

I can't stand it anymore
I wish that I kne how to SPAWN
out of my process, yonder dawn
breaks glowing through the aluminum foil curtains
and all the lights resonate upon your lovely face
the one that I shall hang on my wall and stare at while imbibed.

you load sixteen tons, whaddaya get?
another day older and deeper in debt
St. Peter don't you call me 'cause I cain't go
I sold my soul to the company store

And now, the Bible encrypted: 06144243A

who was the sub-G on the Dennis Miller show last night who was 
wearing a boot on his head and had a loudspeaker for a mouthpiece?
It was really strange.  Cool(tm).  I wonder why dennis didn't get
it?  Shame, shame.  Et Tu Brute, for the slander o thine enemies is
simply but a young maiden named Marion, Orfee, and Bridegroom
named Jesus, who was a rabbi, and therefore by Jewish Law, must
have been married to Ruth Buzzy, the talented and one armed gift
horse in the mouthpiece for the Conspiracy.

This is the good frop.  It's the stuff that makes your throat
cool and minty fresh when you inhale.

I can't stand it anymore
my darling, why don't you come
down from the fire escape, it's dumb
to trollope in the green
behold, beloved

If you see me comin' well, step aside
alot of men didn't, alot of 'em died
I got one fist of Iron, the other of Steel
if the right one won't get you than the left one will

you load sixteen tons, whaddaya get?
another day older and deeper in debt
St. Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store

the samson and delilah bloodline
caveat emptor
let the buyer beware

I can't stand it anymore
but I don't think that I can contol
my motor functions, that my soul
seeks shelter within your fuzzy arms
so soft and pet-like i absolutely believe
it suits you my darling
it suits you like a glove

I can't stand it anymore
but I'll have another hit of it anyway
I'm sorry but it's all I can say,
as I told your, my motor functions are out to lunch.
Come back, Come back
motor functions come back
We've been so long part
I almost had to start
moving without you
moving without you
come back!
motor functions come back!
come back!
please motor functions come back!
If you forgive me I'll be the happiest man in the world.

I can't stand it anymore

I was born when the sun didn't shine
I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine
I did sixteen tons of number nine coal
the store boss said "Well, bless my soul!"

You load sixteen tons, whaddaya get?
another day older and deeper in debt
St. Peter don't you call me 'cause I cain't go
I owe my soul to the company store.

Time to make the donuts.

"Bah! Humbug! I CRAP on your Spitulous Creeds!"
               -Mickey Mouse
Newsgroups: alt.slack,alt.injvstice