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January 2001
Download the word version, perfect for printing and handing out on street corners!
Stick it up your AIRDUCT
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Ash
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Well, well, well, it seems the gauntlet has been thrown down. Those of you
who have been regular readers of these hallowed electronic pages should be
well-aware of my completely unfounded hatred of AIRDUCT, a monthly zine that
has been making the rounds at my old high school. It seems that the creators
of this unabashed PULP rip-off did not heed my earlier warnings, and have
not only continued to produced their peculiar brand of wordy toilet paper,
but actually had the nerve to sully my good name by printing a reference to
me in their latest issue. Granted, the Christmas theme of that edition no
doubt influenced their decision to include me, as of course the name Ash so
often comes to mind when pondering the glory of the messiah, but I don't
take kindly to my name being taken in vain. Nevertheless, a quick perusal of
their little paper allayed most of my concerns. For you see, it's kind of
hard to stay mad at people who are as obviously disadvantaged at the great
game of life as these poor souls are. Not only are they fans of the
Tragically Hip, a band whose formulaic pap is exactly three dance steps away
from being a Canadian version of the Backstreet Boys, but it turns out that
the editorial staff is comprised entirely of girls. Yeah, that's right, I
was surprised too, but apparently anything's possible in today's day and
age. It's not that I have anything against the weaker, inferior, and just
all around bitchier sex. In fact I'm a firm believer that they are in fact
people too. It's just that they quite clearly shouldn't be allowed to speak
out of turn, let alone write that way. You see, once they get ideas in their
flighty little heads, they're liable to lose track of their priorities, like
giggling and making sandwiches, and then where would society be? Plus, when
given great responsibility like running a school newsletter, they tend to
bugger it up right proper, filling it full of cookie recipes and reviews of
the latest episode of Roswell. Listen, ladies, there's a place for flowery
poetry and cute little non-sequitors about pants, and it's the same place
burritos go when you're done with them. Plus, they have oh so many
deliciously long words. Listen, if I wanted to read, I'd go buy a comic
book. Please, ladies, do yourselves a favour and quit while you're not so
far behind you can't even see my footprints anymore. If any loyal readers of
PULP want to get themselves a copy of AIRDUCT so's you can bash their fancy
talking too, just email to airduct_hq@hotmail.com and they just might send
you a copy, provided you promise to call them the next day.
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