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CrAzY WiSdOm MoNtHlY
by
The Fool and The Jester

Welcome again, foolish readers, to CWM.

We urge all of you to print out CWM, read it during elimination, then wipe your assen or the assen of your neighbor with it, to insure maximum absorbtion.

 

This issue if CWM is very special as it was written on location in the Middle East on an USO tour along with the ghost of Bob Hope and half naked dancing ladies.


In case you were planning a vacation to this war torn holy land we offer these travel tips:

Put your pot in your friend’s ass and laugh when drug dogs sniff it.

If possible dress like a messiah and try to start another group of crazy fanatics, some good ones would be: A guy in a cloak who does yo-yo tricks and demands the entire world do the same, twin mud wrestlers who eat at babies or a giant monkey god in a tiny top hat demanding more bananas then can be safely procured and raises gas prices.


With all the fighting and booming, and bamola goin' on in the Middle East, the fool and the jester would like to offer this simple recipe for everlasting peace.

            Since the Jews and Arabs are both whiney little bitches who haven’t stopped fighting for five min. over the past 500 millions years and no one has pointed out the oh so in your face reason for it we would like to and at the same time pluck from the shadows the even more crazy ass way to resolve this bullshit.

            They say the are fighting over some religious things which isn't true, they are fighting because there is a giant stick of fun repression stuck up both parties asses.

            The whole middle east is like Utah, no porn, no booze, no dancin', no sexy bitches in slut outfits walking around, no drugs and we're pretty sure no smiling.

            If you get pissed off the only available pressure vent left to you is a war (oddly the only thing that isn't a sin)

The 2nd factor that impedes peace is it's just too fucking hot, really you put two groups of people with different religions neither of which can have beers, smoke pot or get laid without some decent climate control and you asking for trouble, they can't even swim happily on account of women can't show off their (God-given) sexiness.

By now the plan for peace is as easily seen as a porno movie on late night cable.

In fact part of the plan is a porno movie, or rather several hundred.  With beers, lots a beer then come the blowjobs for everyone, even the wimmins get them.  After a few weeks of beer and sex induced euphoria the entire thing will blow (no pun intended) over.  We believe the U.S government should dispatch the vice squad at once while 'splodin some of them propaganda bombs filled with porn over the entire infected area post haste.


Soultastic Personality Quiz:

Are you Outrageous or just outraging?

You are asked to be on an upcoming episode of Jenny Jones.  The topic is most likely to be:

A.     My fat child runs NASA and needs a makeover.

B.     Writers for webmags: How do they stay above the poverty line?

C.     I gave my Dad a Boner

D.     Watch out Sexy hobag moms your son is sexier and is stealing your truck driving boyfriends and needs a makeover.

A television network airs a mini series about your life after your tragic death in a snowplow accident.  Choose the title that is most ‘You’.

A.     John Smith, Asshole

B.     I only wanted forgiveness (staring Mao Tse tung as you)

C.     I gave my Dad a boner then died in a snowplow accident.

D.     No great loss: The John Johnly story.

The first sentence of your autobiography (ghost written by Steven “The New Hitler” Hitler) would most resemble which choice below:

A.     When I was 7 I knew I’d be ugly forever.

B.     It took forever to wean me from mommy’s teats.

C.     Then the ninja death bots covered me in turds….

D.     I saw his pants grow tight about the groin I retched in horror, I had given my father a boner.

(Letters regarding the inappropriate nature of repeating incestuous paternal involuntary erections and Elektra complex overtones found within this edition of CWM should be directed to the new mail room lackey Willy R. care of The Gray Haven)

Your rock band is named:

A.     Midget   Fornicators

B.     My Mom’s weenie

C.     Dark Souled Void

D.     Boyz from Chiron’s Ferry

Scoring:

Mostly A’s: 50 points

Mostly B’s: 3.14 points

Mostly C’s:  half a gillion points

Mostly D’s: No points.

Save up points and mail in for a prize.



.Savage Beauty or the way things really work and why or secrets uncovered by the CWM research team deep in a cave laboratory .

Introduction to Savage Beauty

            As you may know by now life doesn’t work out at all the way it should and as advertised on television. No Christmas miracle, no identical double to attend PTA meetings while the real you bowls , if you’re ugly but smart and creative you don’t automatically get the hottest bitch in school (and if you do there’s no guarantee she’s smart and sleeps with dorks), diseases aren’t taken away by Angels and Love doesn’t make the world go around.

But we here at Crazy Wisdom have found what makes world go round and intend to spoon feed these secrets you, our dear readers, one at a time.

All these secrets can be explained with this one master theory known as “Savage Beauty”. “What is Savage Beauty and what does it mean to me?” you may be asking and will keep asking it until next time…….


Interactive tale of horror!

A terribly long time ago, on a strange farm that was always covered in a thick layer of stink gas due to strange demonic atmospheric disturbances, there dwelled an even eviler man.  The locals called him old man Johnson.  His wife (who had a cheatin’ heart) called him old man Johnson.  There was nobody who knew him who didn’t call him “Old man Johnson” Except this guy bob who worked for him, but he’s not very vital to this narrative.

            As stated earlier, his wife had a nasty habit of tippin’ cows late at night.  See, every morning before breakfast old man Johnson would go out and check on the bovines, and as he came into the house to break his fast he would mutter to him self  “damn woman’s been to tippin’ my cows again.  I know because they don’t have jobs but always have some cash. I really should teach that woman a lesson with my stick.”  Then he would go about his business as a farmer.

            Well about a year later, as he was sitting up at night because the stink gas was giving him trouble with the sleep, he noticed his wife went missing.  So he dressed and went off looking for her only to find she was having a romantic dinner in the pasture with bob the stable boy.  The cows, moonlighting as restaurant staff, served the couple and created the stink gas to hide their nefarious activities. 

            Outraged old man Johnson exclaimed, “Why I won’t stand for another mule kicking around in my stall.  You re in store for some lessons at the school of pain bizatch!”  And at once grabbed an axe that was sitting around enjoying a drink with a nearby hoe and cut up both his wife and bob into tiny little pieces.  He went inside and enjoyed the sleep of justice. 

            Word (being that jelly like kind of person) soon spread all over the countryside. They all agreed that Old man Johnson never did anything wrong and he grew rich after he opened a restaurant staffed by his cows. As he grew older and richer, people began calling him “Older Man Johnson”. To show his gratitude and share his wealth once a year he wandered the village dispensing gifts to all the childrens.  God rewarded him with immortality and a house in the North Pole.  And that’s the God’s honest truth about Santa Claus.

                        ~   EL  ENDO ~


Below follows a partly completed play written in the days of spare time by the Jester.  Someone please finish it.

Unfinished play about Faust by the Jester:

                             Narrator

            The story about to be told, though highly unusual, is true.  It is, as you will see a timely warning as to what happens to those who willingly and purposely transpose the laws of god, to those who, seduced by pride fall into the deep dark pit of darkness. No, it’s not about a small child who falls into a well, but about a young man so filled with hatred that he flew into the arms of daemons and was torn to pieces.  Let’s now hear this sad tale and pray we are spared his fate.

(Curtain opens a mom, dad, and a boy in a wheelchair sitting at a table eating dinner. )

                    Young Faust

            GEE I wish I could walk.

                        Dad

Well you should have thought of that before jumping into the monkey cage at the zoo.

                        Mom

Dear, it’s not really necessary to be so harsh with little Faust I mean really show some sympathy

                        DAD

    Listen, maybe if it wasn’t his fault, but it was. If you go jumping into monkey cages you’re gonna get your legs torn off.  That’s why when God made the monkeys he put them behind bars in the zoos.  Them’s the rules and the good Lord makes gimpy those that break them.

                       Young Faust

            I don’t mean to interrupt, but I'm still cripple, just in case you were wondering.

(Then they sing the first forthcoming song. ‘‘You can’t dance but I can” while mom and dad clear the table)

Act 1 scene two

young Faust’s room:

            Faust (mocking his dad’s voice):

What do you expect jumping into the monkey cage like some kind of jerk blah blah blah.  (his own voice) I’ll show them, show them all, mom, dad, those bastard monkeys they’ll see I’ll walk then I’ll bash their pathetic little heads in.  If God did this to me then I know some one who can undo it .......

he then rolls himself over to a book shelf and after glancing for a few min. pulls a book from the shelf

                        Faust:

            Ahh “Selling Souls And Evoking Daemons for fun and profit” Let’s see no ..no... ahh here ‘tis “chapter 7 How to deal with Satan”

he lips through the book for but a few seconds wheels about his room gathering supplies such as candles, incense etc.....

Act one scene 3

Young Faust is alone in his room the candles are lit he sits before a circle on the floor.  He is mumbling in pseudo Latin.  after some min. a puff of smoke then Satan appears in the circle. He is a well-dressed man with sunglasses and a cigarette in his mouth.

                        Satan

            Listen you little punk this oughta’ be good or so help me goob I’ll tear your face off and wear it next Halloween party I go to.

                        Faust

            Shut up, I’m calling the shots here and who the hell is goob?

                       Satan

 Never you mind, I see you are quite gimpy I suppose you want me to remedy that?

                Faust

            And a few other things too.

               Satan

            What do I get out of the deal? this ain't no ‘here’s your legs back don’t worry about me I’m fine. Thanks for yanking me away from my important business. Oh no my pleasure, nah no trouble the Morning Star doesn’t have any responsibilities.

                        Faust

Shut up. you put my legs back on and become my servant for 20 years time and after the last min. of the last hour of the last day of the last month of the last....

                        Satan (interrupting Faust)

Listen I get the picture. I’ll do it but I get your soul.  Deal?

                        Faust

            I was going to offer you my collection of commertive plates but sure. 

  Satan

              I’ll take the plates too.

            Satan produces a paper from his coat pocket and has young Faust sign it.

they shake hands and Satan says:

                        Satan

            your legs will be back come morning and if you want anything else just call here’s my number.

He then hands Faust a small card.

                        Faust

            You have a phone??

                        Satan

            Yeah kid I’m the king of hell not some jerk in a warehouse job.  Well I guess I’ll be seeing you.

Faust now alone in his room climbs back into bed and loudly cries:  

Faust                          

Oh dear god what have I done!  I may be able to walk once again but at what price?   I just traded the most important thing a person could ever hope to have: A complete collection of King Kong commemorative plates.  I know he’s going to eat off them. You can’t do that, you can’t eat off them.  You bastard!! What have I done!!!!

Faust then breaks into song {oh my god what have I done (a warning to kids: selling your soul isn’t that much fun)}

Next morning in the kitchen mom and dad are eating breakfast. Faust walks into the room

                        Faust

Look at what I’m doing you bastards.

                        MOM            

Look at that dear, little Faust is walking. He must have constructed a pair of robot legs from the neighbors discarded robots.  That reminds me what do you want for dinner tonight?

                                    DAD

Where’d ya get those legs son? Satan? HAHAHA

                                    Faust 

                        Shut up old man or I’ll give ya a taste of........

                                    Dad

                                    Of what? Your new Satanic legs?  I like to see that.

Mom

No dear you really shouldn’t be so hard on Faust, he can walk now.

                        Dad

            It ain't right, he goes to bed a cripple and wakes up with a pair of legs. that don't happen to decent god freain’ folk like us. It only happens to them who deal with the devil and I bet that’s how you got those legs. Ain’t it mister you sold your soul didn’t you?

                                    Faust

            So what if I did? it was mine to do with what I please.

                                    Dad

            You know better than that fool boy. That soul was your aunt’s we were just letting you use it cause she had two.

                                    Faust

            Even better, then I sure got a sweet deal.

                                    Dad

            We’ll see how sweet it is when I’m whooping your stupid sass.

                           Mom

                        Oh dear, who wants biscuits? I made them this morning. Lets have some biscuits and forget about this.

Copyright©2000 GrayHaven Magazine and contributors