HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: vail@tegra.COM (Johnathan Vail)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,alt.politics.clinton,alt.politics.bush
Subject: Re: DONT CROSS POST TO TALK.BIZARRE
Summary: Thanks to Bob Crane for starting the crosspost
Date: 24 Jul 92 18:05:59 GMT
Followup-To: alt.politics.clinton,misc.test,alt.politics.bush
Organization: Tegra, Inc., Billerica, MA
In-reply-to: egl1@cunixf.cc.columbia.edu's message of 23 Jul 92 18:50:45 GMT


In article <1992Jul23.185045.26081@news.columbia.edu> egl1@cunixf.cc.columbia.edu (Elizabeth G. Levy) writes:
   In article <1992Jul23.153151.5302@murdoch.acc.Virginia.EDU> rwd4f@poe.acc.Virginia.EDU (Rob Dobson) writes:
   >Lately, a lot of the posts from these groups have gone to talk.bizarre.
   >Please edit the Newsgroups: line of your header before following up on
   >something in this newsgroup. I really dont want to read Clinton vs.
   >Bush arguments in talk.bizarre. Thank you.

   Yes you do.

   You're telling me that a syntatically-deficient Yalie who looks like
   Dana Carvey and his Ken Doll-lap dog running the country isn't bizarre?


no, not really at all.  you see, we have fine tuned our sense of the
bizarre to several levels beyond keen.  even within the vanilla
whitebread realms of normalcy the political race now brewing since
Perot left is merely more of what we've always had.  not bizarre and
it is tiresome.

>>>>>> nail. hammer.  head.  *plonk*.  pleasesirmayihavesomemore. <<<<<<

endless whinging about it doesn't make it any more bizarre.

anyone stupid enough to want 4 more bush years or dim enough to
believe clinton will be any different isn't going to be persuaded by
crossposting to talk.fucking.bizarre.

thankyou.
From: warren@news.cs.odu.edu (Tazer One)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Road Trip
Date: 31 Jul 92 03:57:51 GMT
Organization: complete and total lack.
Originator: warren@dew.cs.odu.edu

My best friend and I were riding in our jeep to the beach.  He told me to
reach out and grab one of the sign posts we were passing at 65mph.  Then
he said, "Never mind, you'd break your arm."  I said, "NO, I'd break my
wrist."  He replied, "Bet you a dollar it'll break your arm." 
"You're on," I said.  "OK," Teddy replied, "if it breaks your wrist, I'll
pay the bill, if it breaks your arm, you have to pay."
"Ok, deal."
Just our luck though, the jeep broke down before we got to another signpost.
   Tazer One
--
TyCageWarren
Old Dominion University
internet:warren@xanth.cs.odu.edu
via Topsail Beach, NC
From: kimy@monteverdi.cs.unc.edu (Yong-Mi Kim)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: shoe lust
Keywords: shoes, black, suede
Date: 22 Jul 92 19:30:10 GMT


Dammit, I *need* those shoes.  I really do.

The shoes I already have are not relevant to this discussion.
I need the shoes because that need is part of my nature - your
definition of "need" is not *my* definition of "need."  Don't
you impose your male value system upon me.  Your "needs" and
my "needs" are different.  If I don't have those shoes, then
I can't function optimally.  You're claiming with your penile
logic that I don't need them, because their absence does not
affect my normal functioning.  Yes, it does.  I have seen them,
and now I *need* them, and there is this vortex of need in me
that was not there before.  I cannot be whole again until I
have those shoes.  You are totally irrelevant here.  I *want*
them, and therefore I *need* them.


yong-mi
burning plastic
From: rpwhite@taurus.cs.nps.navy.mil (rpwhite)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Re:  Yawn.
Date: 26 Jul 92 23:40:42 GMT
Reply-To: rpwhite@cs.nps.navy.mil (rpwhite)
Followup-To: talk.bizarre,misc.test
Organization: MOnterey Bay Yacht Club, Monterey CA

In article <n_jmc#b.richh@netcom.com> richh@netcom.com (richh) writes:

)Hate to play the party pooper, but when you start following yourself up...

){Netcom:1} f jperry@oahu.cs.ucla.edu
)[oahu.cs.ucla.edu]
)Login name: jperry                      In real life: John Perry
)Directory: /u/gs2/jperry                Shell: /bin/csh
)Last login Fri Jul 24 10:38 on ttyr4 from FOURIER.INFERENC
)Mail last read Fri Jul 24 08:29:47 1992
)No Plan.
 
 
){Netcom:3} f rdc
)Login name: rdc                         In real life: Bob Dobson Crane
)Directory: /u20/rdc                     Shell: /bin/csh
)On since Jul 24 11:45:07 on ttyp1 from FOURIER.INFERENC
)11 minutes Idle Time
)No unread mail
)No Plan.


Oh goody, a Carasso cascade:

taurus% finger dlee@aludra.usc.edu
[aludra.usc.edu] 
Login name: dlee      			In real life: David J. Lee
Directory: /home/chaph13/dlee       	Shell: /bin/csh
Last login Mon Jun  8 09:25 on ttypb from FOURIER.INFERENC
No unread mail
No Plan.
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,alt.politics.bush,alt.politics.clinton
From: sabbott@nmsu.edu (SDA)
Subject: Recollections of LL and the joy of being an American VI
Organization: WHorshipers of Lady LibertY (WHoLLY)
Date: Thu, 30 Jul 1992 00:33:46 GMT


I went down to the demonstration, to get my fair share of a puce candy
thrown out by smiling women who were there to encourage our youthful
illusion of standing up for rights we cared not for.

My conspiratorial ally was sitting in the passengers seat of the
Triumph casting out auto-aspersions:

"This car sure makes a lot of noise...."

"How come the headlights don't work???"

"Bet you can't beat that plymouth horizon...."

We pulled into the parking lot just as the crowd was being mowed down
by men in golf carts, rotating knives mounted on their bumpers.

Then the hellish rain began:  squirrels dropping from the cloudless
sky like the practiced bombs of WWII pilots bent on revenge.  Little
rodent bodies smashing through car roofs, women screaming in
hysteria, grown men weeping openly.

The Triumph began to get up a head of steam as we shovelled some
of the ebony anthracite into its boiler.

"Do you think we'll make it?"  The answer was already clear.

The Triumph's tyres scrambled for purchase on the blood-slicked
pavement. The carcass of a particularly large, grey squirrel began
roasting on the hood, fur flying out in great tufts from the
steam-parched hide. Those foolish enough to turn on their windshield
wipers to clear away the lifeless rodents were rewarded with
hopelessly smeared windows as nascent clots coagulated in the safety
glass concavities, their wipers jutting out at crazed angles like the
broken wings of finches.

The only sounds were the roar of the Triumph's engine and the dull
thuds of squirrels in wheelwells as we gathered momentum and tore away
from the panicked crowd. The roasting squirrel slid off the hood,
evidently done.

The Triumph knew precisely where to go. We were hurtling unerringly
toward the only possible port in this raging storm of mayhem and naked
terror. Through the thick rain of hapless squirrels we could finally
see our destination, shining coppery green through the fog of brown
and grey. Sweet sanctuary, Lady Liberty.

I glanced at my travelling companion, his normally phlegmatic visage
was openly grinning and laughing.  I laughed too as we saw Lady
Liberty clear the horizon, laughed until I realized that Lady Liberty
must be possesed by me, only by me.  A bolt of green green jealousy
electrified my spine and murderous thoughts coarsed through my petty,
diseased mind.  

We arrived.

We got out of the car; my soon-to-be-dead friend stared up at the 
mighty form of Lady Liberty, while I rumaged in the boot on the
pretense of finding a quart of oil.  Seizing the rusty tyre iron,
I sauntered over to the awestruck form of my friend and shoved
the tapered end into the back of his head.  He fell to the ground
and I pushed the murderous tool all the way through his skull until
his head was pinned in the dirt.  I left his lanky body flopping in
the dirt and ran to my true love . . . my only love . . . Lady Liberty.

//sean:mark:ted//
--

	\\\\\sean/////
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: gary@sci34hub.sci.com (Gary Heston)
Subject: Re: System Administrator Nightmare
Reply-To: gary@sci34hub.sci.com (Gary Heston)
Organization: SCI Systems, Inc., Huntsville, Al.
Date: Thu, 23 Jul 1992 17:24:13 GMT

In article <MJD.92Jul21174753@saul.cis.upenn.edu> mjd@saul.cis.upenn.edu ("[*] Past Student of Joan Livingston") writes:

>    I just got mail from the amateur people who administer one of the
>Linguistics Department machines.  She's complaining that the root
>filesystem is nearly full and wants to know if she can free up some
>space by throwing away a big file.  The big file she wants to throw away
>is the disk image of the operating system.

Sounds like a call for the BOFH.

Tell her she doesn't need any of that stuff in /etc, /bin, or /dev,
either. 

For fastest results, though, nothing beats mkfs.


-- 
Gary Heston    SCI Systems, Inc.  gary@sci34hub.sci.com   site admin
The Chariman of the Board and the CFO speak for SCI. I'm neither.
"Always remember, that someone, somewhere, is making a product that will
make your product obselete." Georges Doriot, founder of American R & D.
From: finerty@msscc.med.utah.edu (THAT'S_MR._WONDERFUL_TO_YOU)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Re: USENET hell
Date: 22 Jul 92 05:51:30 GMT
Organization: University of Utah Computer Center

In article <5683@taurus.cs.nps.navy.mil>, rpwhite@taurus.cs.nps.navy.mil (rpwhite) writes:
> Newsgroup alt.exploding.kibo does not exist!
> Newsgroup alt.fan.gooley does not exist!
> Newsgroup alt.newbie does not exist!
> Newsgroup alt.politics.gooley does not exist!
> Newsgroup alt.politics.kibo does not exist!
> Newsgroup alt.politics.perot does not exist!
> Newsgroup alt.religion.kibology does not exist!
> Newsgroup alt.sex does not exist!
> Newsgroup alt.sex.bondage does not exist!
> Newsgroup alt.sex.carasso does not exist!
> 
> rp -- will someone newgroup alt.fascist.pigs.must.die


	JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T GET THEM DOES NOT MEAN THEY DO NOT EXIST.

p.s. does this just go back to the bear in the woods thing?
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: waldbyjf@nextwork.rose-hulman.edu (Endangered Species)
Subject: A flashwork pancake
X-Disclaimer: This post brought to you by the Automatic Waldby
Article-I.d.: cs.1992Jul21.221709.10964
Organization: Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology
Date: Tue, 21 Jul 1992 19:05:25 GMT


What was I doing?

This was not me. For some unspeakably mysterious reason, I had boarded
the 33 for Disneyland, put a Glock to the driver's head and told him,
``Take me to LAX, or you get a new orifice.''

To begin with, I don't say things like that. I never have. I can't
imagine why I would say such a thing.

Secondly, I don't live in California. I have no clue what LAX is, let
alone where it is. Why would I want to go there? By hijacked bus?

Lastly, what was I doing with a Glock?

Wait a minute.

It wasn't a Glock. It was a banana. I wasn't on a bus. It was a
women's room at the Denny's on I-10 in Blythe. I hadn't said, ``Take
me to LAX, or you get a new orifice.'' I had said, ``Give me an
Ex-Lax, or you get lousy oral sex.''

There. That's better. *This* is something I would do.

I've gotta watch my imagination better in the future. Uncontrolled
bursts of creativity can be bad thing.

Trust me on this one.

--
Auto-Waldby

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: rigler@galileo.ifa.hawaii.edu (Michael A. Rigler)
Subject: What a sap
Organization: 38th Percentile
Date: Thu, 30 Jul 1992 09:22:51 GMT

My eyes fluttered open against the light.

A soft voice spoke. "What happened is he came up behind you 
when you turned to hang your hat.  Rolled you in your own 
office like the rube you are."

The voice I was listening to was my own.  Apparently I'd been 
Sapped.  And hard.

Somehow, I climbed up into a respectable position behind my 
desk, as though that were an important thing to do, and for 
a long while I just sat there bleeding onto my notepad like 
a dime-store martyr.  Or maybe it wasn't so long.  Long enough 
for a two bit hood named Johnny Blaze to drive a light blue 
Duster back across town to a ritzy night club in Encino, pass 
on the goods, and fix an airtight alibi.  I felt my vest pocket 
for the lead vial of Uranium.  Gone.  I slipped open the secret
drawer in my desk.  The bulging manilla envelope remained un-
touched, exactly where I had put it.

I sat and bled some more, considering this.  On the bright side, 
I was starting to see in colors again.  I grunted.  Even with the 
colors, my life was turning out to be one long dog's dream.  The
question I had was:  Was I the one doing the chasing?  Or was I 
the r*bbit? 

Christ.  Couldn't hang on to a lousy vial of Uranium.  Time to 
tear up my license and go off to that chef's school in Paris.

I began to debate the relative merits of phoning the police with 
the latest development vs. daring to push this case yet another 
notch closer to the vest, and, not surprisingly, found myself 
opting for the vest.

Without warning, the Jaegermeister in my desk said "Rigler."

I decided not to argue, this being the third time in as many 
days that I'd been tapped on the occiput.  I reached for it
like a babe to the teat.

"Put the bottle down, gangster man."

In she breezed like a cool salt spray off the Pacific, bringing 
all the promise of a New World.

She was tall.  She was blonde.   She had a voice like a string
quartet swinging the sweetest lullaby that ever coaxed the moon
out.  In a city like L.A., torchers come a dime a gymnasium full,
but this one was special.  To me, anyway.  My head felt better
just listening to that voice.  She still made my eyes hurt.  But 
that was normal.

"Looking for this?  Johnny brought it in."  She held up the lead 
vial.  "It was a cinch to lift it off him."

I decided my head was definitely feeling better.  "C'mere, Angel."

She glided the space between us on marble legs in fishnet stock-
ings, leaned over my desk and kissed me hard.  And if she cared 
a whit that the inside of my mouth tasted like a petri dish, she 
didn't let on.

"Let's take that drive.  Oh, and better bring the money along."

I slipped the bulging manilla envelope out of my secret drawer 
and stood up to reach for my hat.

*THWACK*

--------  
Rigler
--
Rigler
          "How I'm tortured by my creative demons, how, having hit bottom,
   I wallow in the backwash of my existence.  She'll be sorry she left me."
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: mlegare@wetware.com (BoBteCh)
Subject: Re: Homework for Newbies
Organization: sulphur & oxygen
Date: Fri, 24 Jul 1992 14:32:00 GMT

rigler@galileo.ifa.hawaii.edu (Minister of Marqaha) writes:

] 
] The Heinsterizer continues:
] 
]  > How bizarre can you be in 100 words? nj and I need some very short
]  > stories to put onto snatches of music that he and Mister X have
]  > written. If we like your stories, maybe they'll get set to music, 
]  > put on my answering machine, or put on a compilation tape.
] 
] Oh, nj and I *need* something.  Well, let me just drop the vital 
] scientific research I'm doing and cater to your whims.  Hey everybody,
] millions must starve but at least nj and bc will have their music 
] lyrics.  Always glad to help.  Bread and circuses while Rome burns below.


he wasn't talking to *you*, man.


BoB
teCh
seems a bit paranoid to me


Xref: sparky talk.bizarre:22665 news.answers:2211
From: tbsc@volcano.tbsc.ORG (talk.bizarre Steering Committee)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,news.answers
Subject: Welcome to talk.bizarre!  (Monthly Posting)
Date: 21 Jul 92 22:08:36 GMT
Reply-To: mjd@saul.cis.upenn.edu (Seth the Lard)
Followup-To: talk.bizarre
Distribution: world,cindyslivingroom,elsewhere
Organization: talk.bizarre Steering Committee (TINC)
X-Mr-Attribution: BoB TeCH  (mlegare@wetware.com)

Archive-name: talk-bizarre

Welcome to talk.bizarre.  I am you air hostess, Margaux Hemmingway.
(no relation).  At this time We'd like to help familiarize you with
some of the accomodations onboard this newsgroup.

This newsgroup is equipped with clever witticisms, odd yet intriguing
conversation, startling prose, and crap.  There are several flavors of
crap, but I'm sure you'll come to know them all by heart.  Try to get
by the crap as best you can.

During your initial boarding you will be pelted with pig bladders, 
wielded by some people who are going to claim to be Important People
on talk.bizarre, whom you must toady to in order to become Popular.

They are, by and large, lying like bad throw rugs.  Personally, I'd throw
a fish at them, but I do not have enough fish to do a really good
job of it.

As far as the rest goes, you will be judged by what you have to say,
how you say it, and whether or not you can keep from acting like
a total git.

Have Fun.
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: andsol@is.rice.edu (Andrew J. Solberg)
Subject: Once Upon a Time
Organization: Rice University
Date: Tue, 21 Jul 1992 21:11:37 GMT

Once upon a time in a land far, far away, a beautiful princess lived in a
shining palace just on the edge of the Magic Wood.  There she whiled away
her days, speaking with the faeries, swimming in rainbows, and weaving
dreams out of cotton candy.  Her hair was gold -- real gold! -- and her
dress was cut from a single moonbeam.  Her best friend was a unicorn
whose name was Hyperion, and she was betrothed to Prince Belvedere of the
faraway land of Firedrake Forest.  She was very happy, and loved all the
creatures in her enchanted kingdom.

Then, one day, the wicked sorceror Bartholemew was passing through the
Wood on the winds of an Unpleasant Nightmare.  He peeked through the
windows of the shining palace and beheld the radiant princess, slumbering
peacefully.  "She is so good and beautiful," thought the horrid enchanter,
"I must find a way to make her and all the forest creatures very unhappy."

So he killed her.
-- 
Andrew Solberg          |"If I were your wife I'd poison your tea!" 
Undying University Mooch|              Anon. Outraged British Woman
andsol@owlnet.rice.edu  |"And if I were your husband I'd drink it!"
Phone:713-529-8627      |              Winston Churchill

			
Xref: sparky talk.bizarre:22589 comp.ai:2854 misc.test:8783 comp.robotics:1420 comp.ai.edu:351
From: wew@naucse.cse.nau.edu (Bill Wilson)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,comp.ai,misc.test,comp.robotics,comp.ai.edu
Subject: Re: ANNOUNCEMENT: Splotch, a Racter/Eliza type routine
Date: 21 Jul 92 16:07:26 GMT
Followup-To: talk.bizarre

>  Bob D. Crane writes:
>  
>> (Duane Fields) writes:
>  
>>> )I'm releasing the source to my developing Racter/Eliza/Robot program
>>> )called "Splotch".  The source code is VERY VERY UGLY.  
>>> )I am not a professional programmer by any stretch of the word.
>>> ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
>  
>> LOSER
>> L O S E R
>  
>> Whadda ya know.  No matter how you stretch it it doesn't spell
>> professional programmer.
>  

Give us a break.  Are you the end-all in computer programmers Mr.
Crane?  Were you born a programmer or did you learn like the rest
of us?  It is people like you who give computer professionals a
bad name.  I would not ever want to have you for an instructor or
for a manager!  I cannot imagine the audacity that you have.  If
you have children, do you treat them the same way?  

I commend Mr Fields for putting out a program for others to use
and hope that he learns from the comments that others may send
him.  Constructive comments!  Not rubbish like you have thrown
in his face!  

You, Mr. Crane should personally apologize for the afront that you 
have given!
From: rpwhite@taurus.cs.nps.navy.mil (rpwhite)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Re: un-prhase of the 90's
Date: 27 Jul 92 21:01:33 GMT
Reply-To: rpwhite@cs.nps.navy.mil (rpwhite)
Organization: Monterey Bay Yacht Club, Monterey CA

Rob "Robby" Hutten writes:

>I will not make a women::computers entry involving the phrase `going down'.

>But I'm sure someone else will.

>-Rob

Sorry Bob, but Jim Small and myself are gonna have to sit this one out.

rp -- *PLUNCK* is the sound I make as I fall to the bottom of the
      promotion list.
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: greg@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Gregory Nowak)
Subject: Re: complete the sentence
Followup-To: talk.bizarre,misc.test,alt.fan.carasso
Originator: news@ernie.Princeton.EDU
Organization: Princeton University
Date: Mon, 27 Jul 1992 13:22:41 GMT

In article <1992Jul16.065505.1578@midway.uchicago.edu> cpl1@midway.uchicago.edu writes:

}wavey davy is the CARASSO of the 90s.
}TMBG is the DEVO of the 90s.
}greg Nowak is the talk.bizarre trend of the 90s.


You insufferable LIMPET.  No sooner do I crack the lid off
******** 7046 unread articles in talk.bizarre -- read now? 
than I come across this rank piece of intellectual horndoggery. If
nominated, I will not run; if elected, I will not serve, capisce?
The last time some befuddled buffoon pulled a maneuver like this, we
were besieged for MONTHS by the Clueless making the effort to Ponder
It All, and even accusing me of STARTING the mess.  If you know what's
good for you, you'll apologise RIGHT NOW.


greg

time to get out the shark cheese ...

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: waterman@chaos.cs.brandeis.edu (T.S. Waterman)
Subject: Spontaneous Bifucation
Summary: cultural speciation on the net.
Reply-To: waterman@cs.brandeis.edu
Organization: CAVEAT Labs, Inc.
Date: Thu, 23 Jul 1992 17:41:49 GMT

I had a bit of a revelation today. It happened when I read the following,
from some complete dipshit (Larry Jewell):

>>Mark., do I have to do this on my own?
>>gooley@netcom.com

>Of course you have to do it on your own.  Noone else finds it of enough
>importance to bother, or, like myself, have put you in their kill files.
                                        ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I had the instant feeling that they (and you know who _they_ are) 
are subtly, through the clever misuse of their killfiles, and other
powerful technology, are creating their own froup here in the midst
of t.b.  Extensive categorization studies of the most relevant
killfiles have determined that there is an almost universal
partition of the readers of t.b, creating a sort of cultural
speciation never before seen.


  The driving force behind this new phenom can only be the disgust,
revulsion, hatred and even pity expressed toward the new participants by
the established members of the t.b subculture. Rather than seeking
their own niche elsewhere, the new participants (who have deeply
seated masochistic tendencies) have remained in rather hostile
territory, venturing forth for the occaisional hostile barrage.
Driven by the adrenal rush of living in a combat zone, and their
egoistic refusal to accept rejection, they have relied on the
surety of being killfiled by their assailants as partial
protection from the evolutionary forces at play, rather than
accept the opportunity to set up their own alt.froup.

  In summary, then, a species of t.b under-dwellers is evolving,
existing in a niche fostered by their almost immediate inclusion
into cognoscenti killfiles, which also permits them the ability
to communicat amongst themselves almost without fear of detection.
The delineable bifurcation is furthered also by the inclusion of
established t.b society members into under-dweller killfiles,
limitting their direct vulnerability to reprisal.

--ts	Anyone have a good name for them?

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
From: kludge@grissom.larc.nasa.gov ( Scott Dorsey)
Subject: Re: You Have New Instructions
Organization: NASA Langley Research Center and Reptile Farm
Date: Mon, 27 Jul 1992 12:30:18 GMT

In article <1992Jul23.193341.3871@rice.edu> andsol@is.rice.edu (Andrew J. Solberg) writes:
>You will acquire one (1) copy of the movie _The_President's_Analyst_, starring
>James Coburn, and return to your place of residence, once again staying well
>withing the speed limit.

It's not a bad film, and it is pretty funny especially if you get to deal
with The Phone Company on a regular basis.  However, I call your attention to
Our Man Flint and In Like Flint, two other films that Coburn did for 
Panpiper Productions which are quite as amusing.
--scott
   (who has the President's Analyst and In Like Flint on 35mm film in his
    bedroom, but can't find a decent print of Our Man Flint)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,alt.politics.bush,alt.politics.clinton