SAILA

11.1.2k1

Yeah I guess I’m sorta sick to death of them email surveys or questionnaires or whatever you call ‘em. Those unsolicited, invasive two-dozen questions that reveal the number eleven is behind every single bad thing that ever happened in the history of the universe. The 20 poignant queries that determine without a doubt that you are (or are not): A racist, a Commie, in love with yer ma, going to die within five years, too stupid to graduate from grammar school or if you are better suited as a career horticulturist.
I delete most of these emails unread, but sometimes I read ‘em through if they come from a creditable source (e.g., brother, girlfriend, etc.). I got one the other day and one of the questions was “Person least likely to respond to this email.” Their answer was “Josh.” Heh heh. The long string of bullshit questions reminded me of something that happened a long, long time ago.
A pal and I were driving around really late one Saturday night. The kegger we were at ran out of beer, or we were on a smoke run or something. The point here is that it was late and we were driving around. We happened down one street and were surprised to see lights on in a strip mall storefront. (The town I grew up in went to bed at 8pm every night. Even Saturday.) My friend and I (it wasn’t Phil) looked at each other and laughed because it seemed the scientologists were the only ones up this late aside from us. Not-Phil said, “Let’s go see if we can bum some smokes from the scientologists.” What the hell, I thought. I said, “What the hell.” So we parked and went in.
Three or four rather normal “looking” folks were sitting around chatting and not looking the least bit sleepy. “Oh, no. We don’t have any cigarettes, boys,” they said, “but we do have coffee. Would you like a cup?” I’ve loved coffee for a long time, even way back then, so I said, “Hell yeah, I’ll have some coffee.” The coffee sucked. I mean it was terrible. But I wasn’t expecting much. They asked us what we were doing up so late and we told them we were on a smoke run. I asked them what they were doing up so late, and they said they were reading over the new “questionnaires” that just got back from the printers. “Would you like to fill one out,” one of them asked. “Sure,” I said, thinking that it would be a gag: “Are you a scientologist, Y/N. Wanna be a scientologist, Y/N. How much money do you make, wink-wink, $ _____.” I would answer, “No, No, Nothin’,” and laugh. Well here we were being handed this booklet with more questions than the SAT verbal and math combined. Oh! And how queer some of them were: “Do you ever read the phone book?” (A: Yes.) “Do your neighbors talk to you about your yard?” (A: What?) “Have you ever stood on the top step of the ladder, even though it says not to?” (A: What the hell does this have to do with anything?) It was 25 minutes into the bullshit questions and the suck-ass coffee had gone right through me. I had to pee like a racehorse. So I didn’t even read most of the last questions, but I sorta mumbled interest and checked off Y, N, N, Y, N, Y, Y, Y, N, N, blah, blah, blah.
I jumped up and said, “All done, fellas, c’mon, Not-Phil, let’s beat it. S’gettin’ late.” I think he had the same idea as me because he was faking the last couple answers himself. The scientologists said they would calculate our answers and the scores would determine how much training we would need or some such nonsense. When asked for my address, I put down the address of the Catholic high school I was attending and as Not-Phil and I had been using fake names, I used that name on the “Attention to” line. This was funny because my fake name was a real person at my school who I didn’t care for and would most likely be asked by a priest why he was getting personal mail AT SCHOOL and more importantly why he was getting it FROM THE SCIENTOLOGISTS. Hardy har.

Tonight: POW!

News: Well the redesign of the site is underway. Soon there will be all sorts of interesting and fun things, but the design has been revealed. Founding Member and Linkey-Loo Coordinator Alan J. Chimenti reported that he had come to despise the Spartan layout. The aforementioned Founding Member and Linkey-Loo Coordinator Alan J. Chimenti is on a work-related hiatus from coordinating the weekly Linkey-Loo, so Longtime List Member and Porn Title of the Week Coordinator Tama is filling in.

TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: The origin of the Hokey Pokey. While most people are familiar with the beloved song/dance, the Hokey Pokey, many do not know that the composer labored intensely to find the perfect body parts to put in, out, in, out and then shake all about. Tonight our players will demonstrate some of the tried and failed alternate body parts. Don’t miss this one. Really.

TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Any list member who was laid off this week.

PORN TITLE OF THE WEEK: Nymphomercial

SATANIC WORD OF THE WEEK: had

Okey then. Here's the non-Spartan layout. Hope you like it. Or not. I sorta don't care either way. It was fun. Anyhoo ... Get your asses in gear and head on over to POW! for a pop. Bring your friends. I'm sure I will. See you there! bye-ee!