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January 2001

Download the word version, perfect for printing and handing out on street corners!
In this issue:Ash makes some New Year's resolutions! Eeyore hates the seventies! The critics' picks of 2000! PLUS: Voodoo Warfare!
 
 
Stick it up your AIRDUCT
Ash

 
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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