On Mount Washington proto-Pittsburghers were drunk on Iron City Beer. Negroes laughed at them and made funny faces like they were in Africa. Rocks were thrown and windows were smashed into a million sherds. Large women who looked like Rosie O'Donnell knelt before a statue of Fred Pittsburgh (Pittsburgh's founder) and threw up slimy chunks of cottage cheese. It was sickening.

EVERYTHING PLUS OTHER THINGS - I feel pre-teenish with you, like my knees are on backwards. I feel the creeping-passion that creeps feel when they're expressing their feelings in public with breast pumps. I feel lots of stuff: the stuffing in your top; the pull-back strap in your bottoms. It's like a broken bottle in a sand box or a fake arm on a statue these passion-free feelings I hide from you when you're wrecked-up in a broken ball on a gurney. Please never eat cheese without me again.

This appeals to me: the killing, and the enjailing. I want to **** a biker. I want to go to jail. I want to **** a biker in jail! ****! ****! ****! Bike! Bike! Bike! The thrill of the **** — the like of the bike! One day killing a biker will impress women. One day killing women will impress a biker at least till you **** him. When a biker dies we all win. Killing a biker supports education! Since 1988 no biker has been killed in vain. Bikers aspire to be guilt-ridden, accusatory, short-sighted, dogmatic, apathetic & infra-red. Genuine privacy, as once we enjoyed in phone booths, airports, public toilets, railway & bus terminals is becoming a thing of the past. Shall we not endeavor, like the Buddha, to be thrifty, spend thrifty, frugal, cost-effective, economical and miserly? Get ready dumb ***** to learn from Timmy's mistake!
   Timmy's father was in jail and his mother was an alcoholic. He smoked *** and shoplifted and traded the stuff he shoplifted for ***. He also was disrespectful to our brave policemen who have taken blood-oaths to serve fraternal orders and to our brave veterans who have killed millions of blood-thirsty, machine-gun-wielding Arab children, mothers and senile men. One day Timmy found a gun. It was loaded and so was Timmy: loaded with hatred! The gun was evil just like arsenic. Timmy knew what to do: ****! **** the producers: the foes of Marxian collectivism. Timmy was a product of Vietnamese produce & meat products, some decayed, others shot up with hormones.