NYGA\B

First is the Worst - Corner Light - The Quickening

2011-01-26T12:44:00.008-05:00

Friends,

We're out of the hospital. It's over. The things that happened there are over.

A list of updates after these years in training:

1. Nothing staves off bloat. You open yourself up to it by being born. We held on to Stephen through the worst of it, but he grew and grew and we had to hack away at the soft additions. He was a good boy. A changeling. The club needed officiating and the God stuff was tolerable. I'm just sorry for the loss of his thoughts. We all loved his "tawny" trail mix, but I called and got the recipe from his grieving mother.

2. Good works are good works, ho ho ho. But lay off the sissy-talk, all of you.

3. New meeting times to account for the travel back and forth to "South" Brooklyn. Attend to your arrangements accordingly. Hack away at the velvet rope binding your vestments. Snow or no, garbage needs to be mopped to the curb, and you have cats to feed all over the city. They don't feed themselves. And wipe the grin off your face, or a penalty session is non-optional on your way out the door.

4. Sorting through the mail, there's a list of pledges that require group scrutiny. Read before next Wednesday's down-home meeting:

Bottom-line feasible candidates:

R. Chan: He's a runner (for pleasure), small-time income tax evader, and pet-lover. He is over 25, and includes a photo of the "hard time" he spent helping out on trips to the Midwest.

V. Newton: Basically a waste. We need a fatboy to kick. He has deplorable habits and we had to pay the remaining postage for his application on delivery. We will smash him like a flat fat doormat.

Nanny Rodgers: It's inconceivable how this is going to work, but she's been unemployed for six months, and says she can cook. I'm not re-writing our charter or anything, but in these times. In these times we need our ocean spray opened like any other. She is my plan. I take full responsibility. I have spoken directly with Doctor Eight.

4. He is preparing his thoughts.

Be afraid. Dust off. The penal pleasures are not without consequences.

Signing Off,

Rory Thompson

Hard-2 Deputy, NYGA\B

NYGA\B on the Issues: Brotherly Love

2008-02-14T13:15:00.001-05:00

What a crock of hot wet! Take it from the belly of the beast and hold it up to circumspection – that shit is made up.

Really now. This is our mission. Comparing and sharing without complaints, but there are lonelyhearts out there gnoshing on baked snacks, imagining a scene from My Little Pony but with people.

“Here, have some of what I’ve got....”

“Of course you may cut me in line...”

“Uh huh, I’d be more than happy to try to meet my goals by using your new automated answering system instead of talking to a living breathing human being that was grown in a family way.”

Take it from the experts. The world turns because of fateful agreement and compromise, not goodwill grapesharing. Humans are infected with the desire to see tender cords limning between themselves and others whose deficiencies they can easily identify. Weak people invent ideas like “magical spells” and “kindness for kindness’ sake.”

This men’s club is an alliance caulked by a pecking order. Service is necessarily the turgid boundary of these boys’ natural reckless terms. We do not serve a function. We are the function.

Love one another? A destiny of love? Park the cruise ship at Pier 61 please. The North American blood bank is having a donor’s event, and the NYGA\B will assist with parking. Drain them dry and ask them if they feel the love as the light goes out in their eyes.

Your Friend,
Doctor Eight

(Typed and Proofed: Ogden)

Licensed Products

2008-02-13T13:18:00.003-05:00

Available soon. Proceeds to be equally divided between the Tea Lounge tip jar and "Pudding-for-Profit" a local initiative designed to support housebound Seniors, which actively attempts to pry their cold fingers from the "cookie jar" on top of the fridge. This club doesn't run on fumes and goodwill. Are we going to let them get buried with that money?

Sincerely,
Ogden
(Not reviewed by Doctor Eight)

Paranoia: The Knife Blade Slides Neatly, Parting Your Progress Like a Hair-Line

2007-12-17T15:36:00.000-05:00

In the wake of our recent losses, whereby one was taken and one took, some muttering was noted during weekly pasta. The big looming jilt is: what’s next? Something weird has gotten weirder. Juniors astonish themselves by licking that lizard called doubt. You won’t get high, this is New York.

Stephen was nothing but a stiff board. In nautical days, that was a rudder-an over-rated piece of mystery. He is imminently replaceable, but put your chin on the bar you Juniors, leadership comes from within. Doctor Eight just makes the rules.

The feeling like bugs is paranoia. Weak ones change into that pair of hose. If a picture or collection of words in your head repeats in a menacing way, you’re paranoid. This goddamn thing can bury you and place your connection to this classic club in a perilous position. You are obviously paranoid.

Pets can help with your problem because they’re always pretty much the same. Asking a hot question over and over again gives up your position, and also gets you kicked out of the most important club of your life. Don’t look at me.

Things aren’t perfect. If they were, there would be no one to help.

See the Future,
Doctor Eight

(Typed/proofed:Ogden)

Looking for: A "Second in Command" A Hearbreaking Demotion

2007-12-04T16:57:00.000-05:00

It was Stephen's imperative to not only follow NYGA\B dictum, but carefully polish it with action and responsibility. Last evening's antics did neither, and in a clearly altered state, he disgracefully fondled this club's most careful protocols.

This will be settled inside.

Stephen, you were like a son to me.

A son.

Doctor Eight
(Transcribed and Typed:Ogden)

NYGA\B on the Issues: “Vegetarian Eating”

2007-11-23T13:05:00.001-05:00

Dietary restrictions are a popular way to start a conversation. The NYGA\B must pop our head through the door just to say: Stop pushing your vegetarian ways around the deck like slop-water!. Have you ever paid to watch a movie in a theater and reached for your belt on account of other customers back-talking the projection? “Oh no.” “Don’t do that!” “I don’t understand what’s going on.” “This is so fake.” “I hate him.” Who are those people, and who gave them a golden pass? Goddamn vegetarians.

We’ve looked at books. Mostly, they say: go on and eat that meat. There is a rich tradition there, and if you’re a bit peckish about preparation, swell your eyes acres bigger than your stomach. You won’t regret it, little guy. You don’t have to listen to them-you never did. They would live in colonies if allowed, doing chores for each other and shit.

Different schools of thought hash out the works. Don’t let it get you down: Eat the meat.

Honorably,
Ogden
(Pending Approval: Stephen for D.E.)

“Changing Course....” or “The Future of Farming Young Men: New Impartial Correspondent Sebastian Documents Dave’s Dream and the Deep Forest"

2007-11-23T10:23:00.000-05:00

S: I am Sebastian. No one knows me.

St: I am Stephen. I speak carefully, and relate action. Doctor Eight is sitting beside me. Tell me about yourself.

S: I am a prospective junior from Geeseytown, outside Hollidaysburg, outside Altoona.

St: Enough! We found him on our trip and now he will ask the prepared questions.

S: Uh...What were you doing all the way out here....in the woods?

St: We regrouped under the standard of chapped and sworled grieving. We lost a man and found him again. I saw fish in a dam! There is no question that it was a first rate adventure but also a parable of our times. We killed the beast. We cut his throat. We spilled his blood.

S: Do you have a Blair County hunting license?

St: I gave you a paper with questions. I gave you instructions.

D.E.: Stephen.

St:.......

S: What did you eat out there?

St: We made our own food! I grill, and fiercely. Vegetables take more time than meat. Doctor Eight took the single room and wrote on his vintage secretary table, longhand. When we ate there was no secrecy. Then we attended a Sunday supper at Dave’s dream. We saw some local color, and received the sideways glances.

S: So, what’s next for the NYGA\B after your exploration?

St: I’m glad you asked Sebastian. A new outfit will be dedicated to the history of our organization. Too much happens without impression on the record! New initiatives include free bike repair for children whose parents are sick fucks.

D.E.:.....

St: We’re going to repair bicycles. I am ennobled by the man-time. We....Doctor Eight has established a cadre of issues to clarify. They will stretch out in time in the worst way and no one will question our authority as the pre-eminent men’s club! Be on the lookout for big-time issue invasion from the NYGA\B I can tell you that. Next question.

S: What are the origins of the NYGA\B?

St: Shrouded in mystery no longer! Doctor Eight is a man. He did the right thing after receiving a couple of shafty lessons in life. He contacted people that he heard of several years ago, and they designed the care-giving capital. Our membership is vast, but at heart, there is a sweet center of role-models. I love this club. I’m married to it. No bullies and feeling trying. Cater to none, bun some. I love Doctor Eight. He plays around in the serious ways. You like me? You want in Sebastian?

D.E.: Enough.

S: Do I still get to try out? My parents.....

D.E.:.......

St: Chancre. Slobo-dan.

S: Is he okay?

St: Salty.

D.E.: This is the conclusion of the interview.

S:.....

NEW FEATURE: NYGA\B on "The Issues"

2007-11-13T15:38:00.000-05:00

Before nancying away, try this on for size: we’re under scrutiny. Several non-profit velvet-pillow ladies have threatened the retraction of their sizeable yearly contributions on account of the “increasingly nebulous” club position on “The Issues.”

Guffaw at the granny-panties but when you’re feeling stretched wide it’s not wise to constrict your conscience, Juniors. It can, and will, bleed out. Senior strategy is a hard-boiled clarifying effort. Deep tissue investigation into “The Issues” will be conducted and then released for muffy consumption. Our immortality will not be clingy vines on this shit, but when have we ever avoided tender sharing?

Pilot Issue: Guns!

Kids play with them! There are popular mental stars that wave them around! The NYGA\B doesn’t endorse or condemn those rocket powered machines called guns. Police wear them like a hot topic! Gangs are groups of people that use these party poles to go on stake outs and hide things from most other people who aren’t in those gangs.

Guns are not physically allowed in the NYGA\B club perimeter, but someone may have fired one. That’s ok! New experiences can really change a Junior’s mind about standing next to that old lady and showing her with his smile that he kind of loves her.

We have noticed that some people have that gun attitude. They talk about an attack that’s coming. There may be an attack coming, but stop talking you tiny bubble. Shave your moustache and take off that backpack. Your gun attitude wouldn't get you detention if you had had club fun to direct your aggression in a positive direction.

Guns: Rocket powered wonders!

Reporting,
Ken
(Approved by Stephen for D.E.)

Big Camping Yank for Selected Seniors

2007-11-08T08:22:00.000-05:00

There is a time to mourn, and a time to have a feely retreat. Doctor Eight is ready to move on, and his fierce friends will watch that line crossed in the wilderness. Tune up, the camping is in Penn's Woods.

Stephen, Aron, Mark Douglas-Kenner's cousin Ken, our Armenian friend, and Doctor Eight will pow-wow at Canoe Creek park on Novemeber 16-18th in a modern cabin. We have taken simple blunt precautions to prevent "Lord" Sheepsnake from diddling anyone's dangle on this day, I can tell you.

We will report. Don't expect sacrifice outside of the club.

View Larger Map

Goodbye,
Stephen
(Approved D.E.)

Doctor Eight Quietly Releases Rare Mark Douglas-Kenner Interview

2007-10-26T14:58:00.000-04:00

The following are excerpts from a precious interview with Mark Douglas-Kenner, posthumously cleared for release by Doctor Eight. Content has been edited for the security of this Men’s club. Do not ask for more.

Stephen: I am Stephen. I do not need to explain myself.

Mark Douglas-Kenner: I am Mark Douglas-Kenner, in application to NYGA\B, and I would like to join you a lot.

S: Stop that yammering.

MDK: Yes.

S: There are thirteen questions that Doctor Eight and the Seniors will witness you answer truthfully. You may think, “This isn’t a big deal at all. This is something that people do every day in interviews for jobs.”

MDK: ....

S: Shut up!

MDK: ....

Excerpt Interrupted

S: Question Three. Describe a bullet you once dodged.

MDK: I almost really got it for [redacted], but did I learn my lesson on that day I can tell you.

S: Thank you for being brief. Question Four. Why did you sing in a choir? What was that life like?

MDK: Um, at first my parents made me, in Pennsylvania, and it seemed boring at first and then fun. I remember Washington Memorial Chapel, Shoo-Fly Pie, the feeling of singing lightly over the ten...

S: Enough!

MDK: Sure. Ok.

Excerpt Interrupted.

S: These questions are stripping you down. Do you still want to be in NYGA\B?

MDK: Yes.

S: That was not the eighth question, puffpump! What is service to you?

MDK: Is that the....?

S: Yes!

MDK: Oh, uh, service is doing good for other people. And...

S: Speak so Doctor Eight might hear you and be proud, jerk!

MDK: Service is when you do something and don’t ask for anything in return?

S: That sounds interesting to us all.

MDK: Thanks?

S: Shut your mouth!

Excerpt Interrupted

S: That wraps it up for Mark Douglas-Kenner and his club friendship. He is a failure and can’t think for himself. We laugh at him ha ha noxious gas! Fuck you, pal. Fuck your family!

MDK: I’m sorry. I’m....so....sorry. [redacted] I made myself a reminder.

Doctor Eight: I have heard enough.

S: Doctor Eight?

D.E.: Bring him to the kitchen.

Interview End

Crash-Cart Sharing....Wipe Your Nose, Boy

2007-10-26T10:19:00.000-04:00

Mark Douglas-Kenner's passing stands for a lot, but there's also some outstanding items on the hot docket - special meeting called for pronto.

A sharing circle is arranged for Union Street Tea Lounge (btw 6th and 7th across from our sworn hippie bullshit enemies). Shara will clear corner space for 20-25 Juniors. Bring small change and a friendship token.

Guest speaker N. Shank will penetrate your experience of emotional abuse. He can see your inner eye and has been given access to membership documents. Don't hide the sloughing off you received from chancre mommy and fucking tulip daddy. Grow up, stand up, and share with other Juniors. How might you help others if you don't cut that velvet tether? Let go of special teddy you nitwit!

Your life is a web of lies. So is Doctor Eight's. "Be the Perp, not the Pushover" is at the Tea Lounge during Sunday rest - 3pm.

Don't Break Rules,
Stephen
(approved D.E.)

In Perilous Days -- A Beacon of Thrift

2007-10-23T15:10:00.000-04:00

We've blown our hearts open.

One of our own is down, and will stay down. Some provisional short-term measures to feather out dissent are in order. With forget-me-not blood trust, I mark you for not thinking of it first.

There is nothing more than peppery submission in this club. Deliveries have been soft and late to elderly drop-points, and Legion contacts recommend personnel changes. Raking is late, and New York Cares interference was a nickel short of naughty. We will not suffer chuckles from well shorn financiers. They will suffer.

Provisions:

1. Laundry service terminated. Buttondowns and cool shorts will be washed one at a time big-boy style: with quarters and elbow grease. Enjoy the work. Complaining cuts you in half.

2. The hard knock promises. Seniors enact that old song and dance on Juniors to connect club charter to club chatter. The end we experienced is a beginning. We are on a bouncing thing so remember to remain limber.

3. Social Saturdays. Every other Saturday now requires a small meeting. Stephen presides and everyone understands the meaning is fun. Bring a dangle, but don't forget that we're a men's club.

4. Tighten up.

5. Scale back official recipes to the necessary content. We fed an army on this one, but we don't own a houseboat. Our service will be done hungry if necessary. Shut up.

The NYGA\B is a stronger place for Mark's passing. Let us remember now who we were once.

Ratified,
Doctor Eight

Mark Douglas-Kenner, NYGA\B, RIP

2007-10-18T16:06:00.000-04:00

It is without shame that we ream the world for our expanding loss. If you don’t know, now you know that a budding Junior Member of the NYGA\B is fucking dead as the dump. We are a men’s club, not a huggybunch sipping circle. Our young friend has changed to dead and the clubhouse door is nailed shut.

Some book about leadership made the decision for me to demand Juniors, Seniors, and backstabbing pantywaist imposter-kings to share feelings in the strange days of death talk. My mouth is a dead place, but those little contributors don’t have to answer to Mark’s mother. Her insistence bound me to her, and to the somber promises beyond decoration.

The repellant human changes. Douglas-Kenner, I remember your face. Your colleagues share their words and works.

Your Leader,
Doctor Eight

“I can’t. We started this thing together and said that we would make it. Mark, I love you. I’ll do your work in honor of the promises we made. This isn’t the end, it’s a beginning.”
-Ogden

“Your supervision was my joy, young man. I’m talking to you and you’re dead, so this is for me but also those other young men. Don’t waver. Doctor Eight stands for that. Mark Douglas-Kenner, you have different meanings. I won’t interrogate you now. It’s too late. Way too late.”
-Stephen.

“I could have gone easier on you Mark. You should have told us. Damn it, you should have told me! Goodbye, you sweet kid.”
-Peter

“Those boys came around here for a cut. I never knew their names or whatever, but they opened doors, and we saw them around the neighborhood. Nice boys. It’s a shame.”
-Vincent, Park Slope Barber

“Mark brought me treats. A quiet boy, it's just horrible.”
- Marion J. Thurber, Neighborhood Resident

Let it be known that when former member and co-founder S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N. was contacted through Stephen, his ice-cold response was the following obituary, likely cut and pasted from the internet. Not a personal word. His resistance is of some interest to me. -D.E.

Mark Douglas-Kenner b.11.6.72 d.10.14.07
Neophyte Prospect NYGA\B, died Sunday in his Bronx apartment while making a routine oven thermostat check. An investigation conducted by FDNY inspectors and NYGA\B Senior Staff has ruled out any foul play. Cause of death recorded: asphyxiation.

Enthusiasma: Walking, HVAC, Small Appliance Repair, Rabbits.
Survived by three prize winning Langerhans Rabbits.
Memorial Services to be commenced on Sunday 10.21.07 at Blossom Rec Ctr and Banquet Hall, 5050 Gun Hill Rd. Bronx. at 1PM.

The Recipe for Celebration Package

2007-10-16T16:37:00.000-04:00

A solitary event is not mistaken for fraud if Celebration Package is evenly distributed. A favorite at meetings and in portable snack packages. Some say this is man stuff. Ok!!

Required Ingredients:

1 Unit Floral Temptation
Knobbed Gum Arabic
Strangling Oil
3 Brilliant Stones
Wrapping Crisp
5 Tins Brown Base
Water
Assorted Friendly Powder
Creepy Room

1. You’ve tried to please, and please you will. Put the Strangling Oil in a safe place. It’s bad for the mood.

2. A couple things require zesty snap. Your Knobbed Gum Arabic is a waste unless conditioned. Watch Charles in Charge. That has brotherhood and being in over the head symptoms. Keep your Knobbed Gum Arabic in your ginger hands and thumb it like a pinch pot. You’re not making a bowl! Your Unit Flower Temptation and Assorted Friendly Powder go in the bag that you knew better about. Hire a fucking person.

2. Your Brown Base is basically the thing. Naturally you combine all of it with your Wrapping Crisp and conditioned Gum Arabic. You can do whatever you want. That person you hired is like a priest, but following you. Tell them to do hocus-pocus bullshit with your mixture. It won’t change anything.

3. This is the impressive part. Take that mixture (your person thinks it’s magical!) and smoothly braid it from where you are to your Creepy Room. While that person still believes in you, tell them to empty the bag of Unit Flower Temptation and Assorted Friendly Powder in the Creepy Room in a perfect pile at the terminus of the braided Brown Base, Wrapping Crisp and conditioned Knobbed Gum Arabic. So now you have that braid running right into your pile, and the person you hired might say, “Why did you do this?” Never mind him.

4. Your 3 Brilliant Stones plop neatly into the powder pile and drink your Water right down. You will be running soon. Give the Strangling Oil to that person you hired and say, “Hey, go figure this Strangling Oil out in our Creepy Room.” Shut the door and walk towards the beginning of that braid you made. Light it with fire.

5. First hand, you will understand the mystery of a perfect Celebration Package. Those results will be coming in for the rest of your life. Consider it!

Dict.(Not proofed):Stephen

Don't Let This Guy Into Your Store

2007-10-10T21:28:00.000-04:00

On behalf of the NYGA\B, we issue fair warning to all salespeople regarding this jasmine-hunter. What a shleppy yank, "Lord Sheepsnake," did you think we weren't on to you?

Last seen at the Park Slope Barber Shop dishing heavy cream on the Sinatra/Bennett issue with the singing brothers. Needless to say, nary a hair was cut and "L.S." pulled a few cats' tails. You're asking: What's in it for him and why, jesus, why?

He was part of the fold. He was one of the good ones. He made a permanent loaner of his Biological Principles text to the famous Stephen, went behind his back and stole principal funds from the NYGA\B treasury. Seminal IOU's were lost, in addition to the lion's share of the christmas/tracking yarn.

"Lord Sheepsnake" knows his way around the closet. He won't be foiled easily or safely. Within 10 feet, lightly admonish him for (in this order of priority given proximity) his shoes, "muffler," or in dire straits "T-Shirt."

Post all recent photographs to the control center and be safe. We are saving Brooklyn. He will likely say he works for "Zagat" but will mispronounce that word.

We See Your Effort,
Doctor Eight

Therapy - Go Away Short Lists

2007-10-02T19:00:00.001-04:00

Stephen signed a pre-nup. He practices litigation (and currently!). Hearts are broken, but we will trounce imposter predators. Some quick updates:

* Vehicle retool - speak with M.
* Dinner planning is cruddy. We stand and set the standard for innovation. If you're reading this, be ashamed that you have slammed Doctor Eight a dingle dangle. Didn't count on a semester off? Spend too much time on your science project? Eight has little sympathy if eggs slid from the menu.
* Also if you have results, post them criminal.

Drop the act, knuckles. If it's your heritage, then consume it.

Yours,
Doctor Eight

Old Doctor Eight is Preparing Spot-On Announcements

2007-01-02T12:36:00.000-05:00

Doctor Eight: Hello.

Stephen: Tell us what's on your mind please.

Doctor Eight: You'll have to wait with the rest of them.

Stephen: As always.

What a Long and Innapropriate Reacher Tucked

2006-05-26T20:50:00.001-04:00

We never left you. Honing craft.

Triumph At Last

2005-11-21T14:47:00.001-05:00

At long listless time, the big city rollers have granted urgent requests. Juniors and Ceaser Seniors know what we need and want. Zoning has prevented outbound operation in homeless feeding centers and free-air stations. There are new arrangements being made and contracts drawn hard and in the sand to secure some sidewalk space and rent-a-cop protection in instances of gravity.

Look for major activity - I dare you!

The thankless dozens include: Gloria M, Hunt's Tomato Ketchup (nyc), Juniors and legal interns Pete, Niall and Greg C., and service provider cold-cuts tender touch ups from Park Slope Barbers.

In rare news: Stephen makes a his mug unashamed and quite public. Word around HQ is: "Huzzah!"

Thank You Stephen. Get back to work, Punkola!

Loving You,
Doctor Eight

Here’s the Big Day Shopping List

2005-09-19T21:52:00.000-04:00

3 Crates Omaha Steak
Racing Magazines
Helmet Grippers With Buckle Braces
The Unit Camp
Practice

This is the end of summer. We have value pinned down, and she’s kicking ugly bumper. You shouted that you young men could last all night, so locate your stocking caps, and show the mistress your lucky laser pointer. It’s grabbing. Our. Prayers. Are. With. You.

The Rest Is In Your Hands,
Doctor Eight

Dictated but not Read-St.

The HOT List

2005-08-31T22:49:00.000-04:00

Stephen, be so-so at best and pick the items up. We have no demerit system. You talk out. Get the following, and you know pickle precisely the hot steamer you stepped in. At that, don't take a wingman.

TRAINER SUPPLIES:

Hot bench, French make.
The cackle cabin.
Ten "Costco" branded bags peanut treats.
Bottled water, enough for a long trip.
Elio's.
Clean underpants as hankies/rags; Clean underpants as delicates.
The easel.

I Love You,
Doctor Eight

Performance Field Report, NYGA\B up in arms about Neighborhood Crack-Downs, Fierce Planning and Substance, But A Little Thin. We’ve Missed You.

2005-08-17T18:36:00.001-04:00

Laser alert. No more hold-ups -- prick your ears and get planning through the cheap sleep this little “break” has afforded who, I don’t know. Some aught list of demanded reportees to gaspgasp PRIVATE SESSION for you know just what. Can’t remember? Fog?

JUNIORS [All Temp. Suspension]
Barry Steele - Hardware tampering. Inexcusable. Your ass is grass, in Stephen’s vernacular.

Adam Panper - Your big mouth has landed you out of favor. Shut it and seal it with a smile.

Bryce Waters - This is no social engagement. We do good. We do good. You will fear lethargy, and pick out a dandy opportunity to help some aught deserving across the way. Oh, how do I pick? Use your heart, crumbbun.

Josh Oliveira - You disgust me. You will be judged and punished. Come in loose fitting clothes.

MIDS
Aron Epstein - Do no wrong? Where are you living? Up and out. We’ll see how you like the manual side of burnt rubber.

Sean Pepper - The bike routes remain out of date and, fairly, underscrutinized. For the sake of our part-hearts, do your job, and we’ll be sure that you’re happier.

TOPS
S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N. - Couldn’t be bothered to distribute and leave it to your lustful little doves? Your founding hard-on pickles recent efforts, made, truth getting down now, in our name. Overheard: hey, what gives with him? I loved him.

Stephen - Shame on you. Shame.

Friday is the day that you all will pay. We will be a family again.

Doctor Eight

Slivers and Shivers: AN ADJUSTMENT!

2005-06-04T09:12:00.001-04:00

Pleasure Principles Put Down: NYGA\B's Raining Agenda

For obvious reasons Doctor Eight prefers that we pop out a list. Our nighttime activity is bent out of shape in a major way, and I have the authority to say pick up your baby dreams and get peaceful: It's an indoor night.

1. Roll call. Nothing new here. Plebe shit-eaters that mosey in out of step, catch the drift: you're a disappointment just like last time. Your reward: all the heavy lifting.

2. Circle report. Eyes straight straight ahead, maintain the new-age energy wheel, and aught full-on tossing your big wins and significant loss to the middle. Here's a real point of interest. Mark-Douglas Kenner and Junior Phil Swipe tossed their tassles into a burly tussle with American Army Veterans outside of Key Food on 7th Avenue. It has been reported that Mark-Douglas disgracefully snatched the pointy cap and snuffed it like a cigarette. Bravo to you gentlemen. You lead neatly to our next hot line item.

3. The praying game. Piss pot, they're praying that you change your mind about the big trip to Mark-Douglas and Phil Swipe's plain clothes. Two nitwits make our name mud where the great good needs full expression. You two have not seen the angry macaroni collages for your short fuses. Doctor Eight does not do dirty dishes. Welcome to the weird world of frankly nodding.

4. Snacks.

5. The Chastened Basin. Hand tremors and uncontrollable shaking. Remove your vests and dig in. We get together when we need to hash it out. The ready reason: we're not playing sports!

Chiefly,
Stephen

ARON EPSTEIN, RESPECTED, UN-NEGLECTED AND ABOVE-SUB

2005-05-24T19:03:00.001-04:00

Who put the crack in the liberty bell?

Epstein.

Chummy tangle up above and no amount of ditzy dazzle have led to the public wet-mount of Aron Epstein, darling dingle and brother-in-trust. Doctor Eight has pushed notes through channels known to street walking types and the usual cutthroats in community locations that Aron Epstein is meant to be awarded.

Nothing more needs saying. Aron Epstein, NYGA\B sing your praises in a goddamn rotten way for all outside our blessing and service. Our treble will make them tremble, the timbre thicker than aught lashing-snakes in humpy guzzle. We would ask that you step out of line, but your precious place has always been outside–no small dark idea is due for scissors than your curvy path. For that you are awarded!

We plan to trade our precious dallies for your time. Where you come from is where we have lobbied to keep the glot we've gained by being us. You've earned superstition, and while your interest in joining the ranks is luke-warm, your alliance is permanent and prosperous.

Your are a pervy challenge to the linked up! You are the awarded one!

NYGA\B is in debt to your style.

You are a permanent wooden head!

THE RECIPE FOR TASTING EARLY AWARDS

2005-05-12T11:39:00.000-04:00

Required Items:

Fired Cheese Pieces
Threshing Tool the Slut Way Down
Zap Stick
Gallon Balsamic Spritz Hot Droplets
Round Hearth Seasoned Up
100 Balboa Cube Shred Fat
Tawny Webbing Mega Wide
120 Hooks No Barbs
10 Squid
300 Cocktail Bread
Pleasant Room
Multi Herbs Perfection Connected

STEPS

1. We're forced to eat in the trained ways. Increase heat in your Round Hearth Seasoned Up to minorly 450 Degrees F. If you feed guests raw objects they will remember it: listen up or lose out!

2. Cube 10 Squid. Don't try it with a hatchet because then pretty poorly you've mangled what mattered. An assistant with fierce senses should spend prep in your Pleasant Room affixing Tawny Webbing Mega Wide right on a wall in a dancing way. Tell that asshole that each tight knot receives a Hook No Barb until they're used up.

3. Connect your Threshing Tool the Slut Way Down over your Round Hearth Seasoned Up. The two tools must steam in each other's admiration. Prepare for a real sizzle, because now you'll combine your Squid and 100 Balboa Cube Shred Fat right in there. Watch some juice go down.

4. Check on your assistant through the intercom. If she doesn't have every Hook No Barb at attention tell her she eats shit. Then command her to get it done! Arrange your 300 Cocktail Bread so they may be carried over to the Pleasant Room. It's exciting to place Fired Cheese Pieces on half your Cocktail Bread Collection.

5. Spoon your hotsy cube Squid and 100 Balboa Cube Shred Fat right on your Cocktail Bread and close each in a sandwich way. Everyone's done this. Carry these objects right to the Pleasant Room and get your assistant out of there. She's a wreck.

6. Drop each morsel on a hook. Once done, spray it all with abandon using your Gallon Balsamic Spritz Hot Droplets for color and sour excess. Call that idiot back in and place the Zap Stick in her hand. Have her touch Tawny Webbing Mega Wide. Get 'em on up!

7. Your Multi Herbs Perfection Connected are frivolous garnish. Pop them for scent through your big dish. Top recognition is yours as you watch party people eating Tasting Early Awards right off the hook like baby birds!

Rory Thompson, NYGA\B

2005-05-10T23:17:00.000-04:00

I write me. Oh gib.

This is my big shot at name-sharing. I mean. Someone named Greg Smith pushed me around. He had a hot sister. And he was a fullback. The light off his jacket made that green go yellow in a beautiful way. He told me to do something and I did it, but my nut advantage. I was funny to the people in the class. I sucked up a spit ball snot.

The NYGA/B. Well. I’ve got something to believe in.

If I had a say in what was known as. Saw some jumping. Stephen would say aught. Thank you dr. 8 for pinning me discipline. I smelled the difference when they topped me off. I felt their hair smash my face in swirls.

No family ever teased my ass. They have a brotherhood aught peeping. Thank you dr. 8 and thank you Stephen for the airwaves. The poem you asked for:

Back when I climbed far wall
bazaar is distracting haggle and pit pence against
judge made the anger bloom gall.
Stephen pip horn the tall falls
in paper, though it was red cross. None at all.
Cheer’s done. Just pall.

NYGA\B Head Count is Paramount

2005-05-04T13:06:00.000-04:00

Doctor Eight mandates some headcount. Plenty yucky, meet essential yellow: a task from the top has bought us the occasion to flex our muscles throughout Brooklyn, special projects executed Bronx/Manhattan.

Particular interest in this men's club will bring aught 50% response for formal poll. Funding is never the delicate issue - love is the prime game. Gawk away!

Come as you will, this is no advertising, but a plenty hot player is enjoying the date of his initial apprenticeship with the big boobs and clean dependence. He is known as Asian Bobby Brown, and he hosts tomorrow. NYGA\B attendance non-mandatory, but strongly armed.

Plan:
Cinco De Naka
Belmont Lounge
Niner.
117 E 15th St
New York, NY 10003
Between Irving and Park Avenues.

Some profile reporting part and parcel to big census will occur in following weeks.

Submitted,
Mark-Douglas Kenner, NYGA\B

I know peace

2005-04-30T00:54:00.001-04:00

Who Thought That We Would Ever Get To This Place

2005-04-28T00:02:00.001-04:00

Oh you bi-nam beaver eater. You remember laying in the moldy basement talking to the most important girlfriends Hey. Who is that that you've been keeping secret from us, is he some kind of celebrity, in which case, fuck you and everything you're made of. Oh, pps, that game you've been playing, it's already won, and in spades! Everyone knew but you and I've thumbed a burrito for the difference.

What happens when the things you believe in coast sperm in the five-alive hot-spray.

We don't completely agree with your.

Remember when you.

Tried as hard as you could to make it hard sprints hard.

Irrepressibly Yours,
Doctor Eight

Darren's Good Work. COBOL classes forthcoming, D.

2005-04-25T23:42:00.001-04:00

Interlochen is the Place for Tangly Pussies and Young Adults Into Aught Egyptology, Hey It's a Hobby, Go Make A Drink and Sleep in it.

2005-04-25T23:34:00.000-04:00

What do you play, flute?

Doctor Eight told me to tell you he loves that.

99% of learning is yearning, babe, don't look at me in my eyes, I'll fucking cut you.

All Best,
Stephen

NYGA\B Audited, and Who Said Something About Our Financial Character

2005-04-18T22:06:00.000-04:00

Many outlets have chummily discussed what has passed unceremoniously over here over the last few up and downers. It's called tax season, ape. Someone took a call, and the precious prodigy failed to discuss our tax exempt status. We've all got a toilet bowl filled with mumpy bloody lies, because we sit on the same one, get it? Even if you have D it's like a contract not to talk about it, right? Well put this through the CPU: many many people must answer for your omission. With receipts, and what else?

I neglect your name, piss pot. Everyone makes mistakes, and many of them land good folks with bad luck behind bars and mopping up boring messes.

I don't care how good you are at your fancy math show off sessions, you won't sleep neat for quite some time J.D. We'll all see you tomorrow at the Union Square hook up. Don't bother to bring your scooter, I have a feeling you'll be walking home.

Regrets,
Doctor Eight

THE RECIPE FOR TASTING FEAR

2005-04-12T16:48:00.000-04:00

Required Items:

The Hard Flange Mold, Inside Better Butter
Quart Oil
60 Starch Gels, Clam Shapes
24 Ham Roll Ups
Bowl Sour Mild Milk
8 Tablespoons Black Sugar
130 Olives
The Stirrups of Holding
Clot Nut Meat

STEPS

1. Get your Quart Oil on the go towards bubbling at 150 Degrees F. Your head start is to shut that big fat fucking mouth about your nerves and commence loading 24 Ham Roll Ups on The Stirrups of Holding. Do not rip that Ham.

2. Your 60 Starch Gels, Clam Shapes get tossed into the Quart Oil. They form a trendy sizzle around the perimeter.

3. A basic for this project is The Hard Flange Mold, Inside Better Butter. It must be filled with olives by this point or the total taste will be fundamentally disappointing. Right inside goes your Bowl Sour Mild Milk. The olives will not float for lack of liquid. but it's on it's way. Give up right now. You tried to pee in your mouth when you were a filthy and disgusting teenager.

4. Flip the crisp Starch Gels, Clam Shapes into your Hard Flange Mold, Inside Better Butter. Empty leftovers from your Quart Oil right in there. Now that's hot soup!

5. Just before things get interesting, break your Clot Nut Meat to taste into The Hard Flange Mold, Inside Better Butter. By the way, your Inside Better Butter coating has melted off into your Quart Oil and Bowl Sour Mild Milk, not to mention into the Starch Gels; it's a savory sworl.

6. The last step is to wedge your Stirrups of Holding bearing Ham Roll Ups down into the thick mix. Stirrups are made for unlocking, mongoloid. Do it!

7. Decorate with your 8 Tablespoons Black Sugar. Consume this with a fancy old wooden spoon alone, because you couldn't pay someone enough money to spend time to eat your Recipe for Tasting Fear.

No one likes you!

Stephen's Hot Confession: Pretending is the Thing That Gets Us Down

2005-04-07T23:30:00.000-04:00

I had a walkaround yesterday. Trouble: the doubts surrounding permeability, and nails are smacked into the old sea wood. The wood was, well, spongy. And fear made it the aisle length nightmare that Doctor Eight encouraged me to share around the horn.

We've all been reading some aught publishing and reporting to the web death-heads provide. Raise the gauze, 'cause the wounds are wimpy and wide. Jealousy. And what of it? That's the sack that, when handed to you, is passed left and hard, "That sack doesn't belong to me and I cede."

The future's dicey. And what of it.

I am Stephen and Doctor Eight asked me to write this:

1) Don't fucking litter!

2) If you have the time and resources, learn to speak Spanish! It's a form of respect!

3) To the people that cry dick position–read them words!

This has been my way to express myself.

Love Always Different Parts,
Stephen

Corner Fun, From Fourth Avenue Care Post [Peter submits]

2005-04-06T23:20:00.001-04:00

Sticky Social: NYGA\B Hit the Carbs, and Hard!

2005-04-05T15:36:00.000-04:00

Mark-Douglas reporting on Sunday's social:

With bagelbread torpor, Doctor Eight induced what we all knew was the thick point of the night: a chancey session of bonding big-time, and the truthful sharing. I was given pen and pad, so I missed grooming and shapes made in the conference room, legs wide open. Casey gave a prompt and, not least, crass report on his fund-raising efforts at local watering holes. The children of tomorrow have to wait. Drunks've got all the cash!

On the physical half of things, the spread was all cream and cream accepting treats. Ogden was remanded for focusing on televised sports, and negged his chance for Tasting Tradition on that day I can tell you. Ogden that bloody bitch we glued him up and glued him good. Your glasses are your least problems such sad and runny things will come from inside of you, bud humper. Eat crank and die Ogden, and where's the spirit Doctor Eight called out your name for?

Back to the grill again. Emphases were placed heavily and heartily on hygienic washing, and watching weight. We happily acknowledge the round pipes and the safety of our vehicles out front. In conclusion, the meeting was mighty and pleasure though last in turn, was not least appreciated by all except the badly behaved.

My thanks to Doctor Eight for this submission. Fuck your insides S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N. from the juniors, but we don't understand your bottom line. Everyone's got the length to learn: Why did you break our hearts?

We will heal.

Happy Tuesday!
Mark-Douglas Kenner, NYGA\B

Sausage Speaks: S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N. has left the building HE MEWLED.

2005-04-01T09:29:00.000-05:00

A big hope threat never plied too much on the group's feelings less an open zippered lollygagger. Big voodoo's throbbing through the old dowsing rod.

We inch to your hot weeping corner, S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N, and it has been recorded. Your absence from peachy constitutional do-gooding over the last past has brought us half-mast. But the big however.

Your founding is demanding, and the little fellas have carved their names in the letters you gave them on the big trunk. Letting them down is pumping cooking up horse medicine, and you would know down the other end perhaps? Hey mastery, whodunnit?

We wait and wait for new age clarity.

Stephen, I need you by my side, our dilemma is dawning.

Eternal Peace,
Doctor Eight

SHITFINGER = INTERLOPER?

2005-03-31T14:40:00.001-05:00

You really bloom when you receive wavy lines from the hive mind to crawl over a crocus unannounced. We'd love to treat you to dinner, fiend and friend, and only charge you for clean up. But no one knows who you are, delicate. Picture a room of blushy braceface, fucker.

Love That Can't Be Defined,
Doctor Eight

DO NOT DOUBT

2005-03-29T20:48:00.001-05:00

Commitment

2005-03-29T11:40:00.000-05:00

Do you find yourself breathless, sped up, imagining putting your nose in someone else's nest because that's what you might have done that in the glass-eyed days of freedom?

If you do, meet me.

Keep your feisty curd dumbed down. Meet all on Union Street, between 4th and 5th to do a quick pick-up. I have a sack of gloves and will be there all day, scum bumpers.

The Way that We Look

2005-03-24T21:52:00.000-05:00

Some emphases around and in meetings. This is called the furthest and damndest form of courtesy and courtship. Your eyes are the deep inside connectors to you for others, namely: fellow NYGA\B. You've heard the prick cliche. You've handled the garbage people slough off without gloves on:

Oh, your eyes betray you, friendly!

Your eyes really pull things together!

Did you plan that?!!?

Traditionally, if we share a thing, it's a knack for sniffing out party-time BS. Don't rub down another's back with a basket of plebe rotten! This men's club is first and foremost a hall of mirrors. Deeper then "friendly" and longer than "the advertiser's recommended mean for purposes of comparison."

Typically, it's the cliche that rubs hottest to the quick. But not close enough.

Stick your pre-meeting goodwill this saturday and commit the fifteen passing minutes to a stone gaze with another NYGA\B.

Blessings,
Doctor Eight

THE RECIPE FOR TASTING TUNA IN THE CRACK ON THE OLD SIDE

2005-03-18T16:57:00.000-05:00

Required Items:

Species Plants, We Resist the Sour Tastes
Handful Shrimps
Natural Gravy
Trembling Cat Bound Hard
Thin Wide Fig Mixture, Fat Inside
Frying Bath
Meal Base Hard Pellets
18 Bread Bowls
Aromatic Pulls Treated Interior, Several Goats
Big Pot
3 Quarts McShivvers Old Harsh Liquor
42 Inch Soft Cheeses
Ice Water
Hot Mushroom Slices
Cooling Station

STEPS

1. Perfect timing! The theory here is, party in between cold and hot, but fire up your Frying Bath. It's job is done at 600 Degrees F.

2. You must arrange your Trembling Cat Bound Hard on the edge of the action in the smoke and splatter. Note that boiling oil however! Co-mingle your Meal Base Hard Pellets and your Thin Wide Fig Mixture, Fat Inside in a round way. These belong in your Big Pot simmering and watched closely at 275 Degrees F.

3. You might think incorrectly that your Hot Mushroom Slices belong in your Big Pot, but that's because you've never tried anything difficult. Nearly everything goes in that Frying Bath: Handful Shrimps, Hot Mushroom Slices, Aromatic Pulls Treated Interior, Several Goats and your Species Plants, We Resist the Sour Tastes.

4. With so many pieces cooking, add your 3 Quarts McShivvers Old Harsh Liquor into that Big Pot. Stir up. It's sticky.

5. Cooking objects in your Frying Bath can be popped into your Big Pot now. Raise the temperature to about 375 Degrees F so that everyone's compromising. Frying Bath goes to the Cooling Station.

6. Arrange your Bread Bowls to accept one daunting scoop from your mixed Big Pot each. Do it!

7. Your Bread Bowls are in shock, so cover them with your 42 Inch Soft Cheese. Hey, Flatland! Your 42 Inch Soft Cheese will want to melt ambient, so slow pour essential Ice Water to keep it from running.

8. Final Servings include Natural Gravy. The temperature here isn't important, because the party's been so up and down Tasting Tuna in the Crack, On the Old Side.

Let that Trembling Cat go!

Data Dimensions!

2005-03-15T11:58:00.000-05:00

Some Spring Cleaning:

1) Congratulations to Stephen on his lower station interview with a local paper, and he didn't fuck it too badly. Halloa to you on that, I am not ashamed to share the hot excerpt:

LSI: I am a middling Lower Station Interviewer. I believe in my credentials.

S: I am Stephen.

LSI: You're sitting on a promotional opportunity. What don't we know about your service to the club? We're dying to know what the heck that club is.

S: I am NYGA\B, submissive and dismissive to no one. Doctor Eight calls the shots, and we middle managers make the food and deliver it. At the rear and at the front, we're helping people.

LSI: For those of us who don't understand you, what kind of helping is it, and what's the cost?

S: We're a community kitchen and lookabout for grannies crossing busy streets. Lost pets. Whitewashing. Once, I held an angry cat down, and the bird flew away.

LSI: Thanks Stephen, that's about all the time we have.

S: Fortunate for you. Goodbye on behalf of Doctor Eight.

LSI: Right, thank you.

S: Thank you.

LSI: Ok, bye.

S: Yes, Goodbye to you.

LSI: All right.

S: Yes, all right.

LSI: I'm leaving.

S: Goodbye. And stay safe.

LSI: Bye.

S: Yes.

2) We're abuzz with news about Gordon's self-produced vocal album. Stay tuned, and to pre-empt the rumor mill, Gordon will miss some meetings, but dues are adjusted to account for what is, at the end of the day, an NYGA\B project.

3) Potluck is Friday. Arrangements have been made to finish our pipe-ring for locked bikes and scooters outside of HQ. No one will take our wheels on that day, I tell you. We are all looking forward to an evening of peace and cheese.

4) Small reflection: Don't pretend the sun's emergence provides an opportunity to relent in your duties. Submerge in Heart In Motion, and let the music take control. Put yourself out to restore things that are obviously crumbled! Don't cheat!

You are Truly Loved,
Doctor Eight

The Worst and Saddest Day

2005-03-11T00:01:00.000-05:00

Good reason for that. No one declared aught. You had a lot of lovely guiding expectations. They were all garbage. You've let yourself down in such a constitutional way,

Who are you if you're a member of this men's club? Forget the charter. It's made by animals. Your pedigree demands an answer and an effort. Can't deliver? We know what you mean. We started this club. If we deliver, I hand over to you: a bundle of organs wrapped in wax paper.

NO, LISTEN UP CREW.

Please. Everything's under control. Dissention in the ranks is part of what makes a great house great. Conflict provides grit. Grit provides traction. And, we're going somewhere.

Consult your moral compass. Take the last shit. Stuff your wallet with interesting facts. You'll still fail in public spaces! Go to your opening night, and they'll confuse with you the youth that you've trained out of. Well, just, WHOOPS.

Could be that the end of things is near. Oh, that's the secret you keep with youself isn't it?

Couldn't of known. Never would have guessed. Even caught, you're gnawing on the bone.

We're due for a private conference.

Michael Skolnick.

Come to my office.

Blessings,
Doctor Eight

GROUP NOTES: Jonah, keep the goat locked up and in service, boy.

2005-03-09T10:28:00.000-05:00

Turn off all the cameras, no one's watching you.

Go in the backyard and feed the bitch. She's your spirit animal. Nestle your vertical hand between her shoulders blades in a faux karate chop and give yourself this allowance: fuck her nerves. The bond between you pours like honey. At first it stretches way down on its own time (in love with the plastic of course, but peep this, only extending the anticipation like a good girl should), but then the kiss, oh, pushing through that bottleneck pipsqueak. How do you have the energy for it darling? That's when the nerves go away. Right there. The easy flow.

She looks stupid. She tries to eat metal.

There's so much more sleuthing in this direction if you want the group's respect, support and approval. What does she feel like? Let her spit at you and try to escape over the too tall fence. The little lessons your enclosure will provide add up to quite a curriculum. Do you see now? You're taking a journey together, and this isn't a videotaped long way home, you've got a formal report due. Namely, touch her.

Nature isn't just something to talk about. It's the invisible ribbon between you both, and you're talking in different languages to describe it. Thing is, guide each other.

You're both in for a treat, I suspect.

Be Fearless,
Doctor Eight

Some advice before the big weekend.

2005-03-04T17:01:00.000-05:00

Goodwill. Pledge your pedigree like a stinky stinky.

You should be proud.

Well, we tried our best. You know the mission! This is a call to duty! If you see lame on well you looked at yourself and matched the golden territory with the a flame shape, someone eeked leering. Reach your long hand out. We flew the best warm could.

And I love you.

Blessings,
Doctor Eight

Pepper Up the Defenses. We're Going Into the World.

2005-03-02T23:05:00.000-05:00

Well, eventually it's imperative to hit, no, address: the top level stuff.

Real high test byline, unrelated to fashion and fortune. Advantage? Us, if plied and plied well. The facts stand fairly unrepentent. It's us against the world. It can and will be so when you're soft around the middle. You get born that way no one wishes it on you and it's hard to imagine doing it on your own. You're all checked out of the wrong docked jitty. Slap that dog. I've talked him down and around. Glasses high on up, for we will not hesitate to talk their language!

Stream of invective in rebuke of the stares certainly meant to make us feel unattractive: You are unattractive in fact! How unattractive you are makes you lash your crocus around at me. Hear me say these words! They are the truth so help our cause!

Don't spare your energy. They need to know this club plays big boys.

Unstable repelling commentary up along the fortifying defense in which the jealous guard their most precious secrets. So Deep: Well halloa. Halloa to you, pinch hitter. Your confidence is strongly and wrongly divined and I did call you ditched with my body language. All of my inheritance is dedicated to your smithereened sense of purpose, bubble tail. Lose the grin, it's least becoming.

Be Aware,
Doctor Eight

THE RECIPE FOR TASTING YOUR WAY HOME THE ARRANGEMENTS ARE FUCKED MORE OR LESS

2005-03-01T13:18:00.000-05:00

Required Items:

Dough
50 Sesame Seeds
2 Handfuls Rock Salt
1 Long Hot Rare Space
1 Bushel Smoked Pig Sausage Pickled Version Sharp Seeds
3 Spreads
Refined Sack Haw Haw
10 Butters
1/2 Liter Seasonal Ale
Thin Heavy String Patterned Weight Attached
1 Reaching Knife
4 Solar Lights Turned On
20 Eggs, Duck

STEPS

1. You've got nothing to do but work. Cast Dough right on to your Long Hot Rare Space. Your 4 Solar Lights Turned On are one by one at each corner head down at your Dough, and this fast forwards the element of time. Part of your job is to avoid the group's disappointment.

2. If your Solar Lights Turned On don't encourage at least 350 Degrees F the options are limited. The first decisions in your soft Dough are repeating several times over a toss of your Thin Heavy String Patterned Weight Attached. You've got to hold the end there. Plan 10 deep impressions on your Dough and make them happen.

3. There's something going on across the flats. Save yourself and push your Spreads and Handfuls Rock Salt across them, impressions included. In those impressions though, each receives a Butter.

4. After all, your Solar Lights Turned On will change everything. Add the confusion of the Reaching Knife, which will completely remove your impressions in a round way, Butters seeped in deeply. Toss each impression into what's handy.

5. You have creative craters on your hands. In there dump your Eggs, Duck, Liter Seasonal Ale and Sesame Seeds in solution. Don't just watch!

6. Squarely arrange your Bushel Smoked Pig Sausage Pickled Version Sharp Seeds in lines end to end across your Dough. Visit your Refined Sack Haw Haw in a springtime toss across the whole makings.

7. Wait.

8. Roll your Dough into a thick coil and cut it a juicy strombole. It took a long time, and your plans can too easily be ruined in Tasting Your Way Home The Arrangements are Fucked More or Less.

Those cast aside impressions are for someone else. Fear will prevent you from doing a good job!

Popular Interview With Doctor Eight

2005-02-28T09:38:00.000-05:00

RP: I am a well known Radio Personality.

DE: I am Doctor Eight.

RP: You took a seat and you're sitting there, I'm incredulous and fighting off a sort of cold. Let's hear about your recent exploits.

DE: Two. We've pulled our writings together on an internet submission message center that bears my name, which pulls no small embarrassment right on my name. The club's on the same page though, and fulsome or no, we're all eating the same shit. The next project is bike around ride arounds with good deeds. This is the charter. This is the big dance.

RP: Doctor Eight, slow down. Every single listener has one thing on their mind. Who is really Doctor Eight?

DE: Ah. I'm substantial. I feel a tingle when I walk by aggressive teenagers. They toe the line of confrontation! We caulked this club to help people. NYGA\B is a life's work, but I mean, man, what's in a name?

RP: Sweet. No worries. You're my new favorite guy. Hey, what would you say to a young man who wants in?

DE: I'd put him in a kiddie chair and ream his ass raw. It's no place for big mouth gapers with important feeling coolies. This is about one thing, the service. Around with Braces is no idle threat besides. We apply them like a code. A man code? No no no. A helping gesture. I've heard it called equalizers. Ask Old Lady Miller. I think she's accepted several favors from us.

RP: What's that?

DE: What's what? I sent boys over to cool her freshly baked pies.

RP: Last question. What's on your bedside table?

DE: The last thing I look at is a doe. I touch it sometimes.

RP: That's that. Thank you Doctor Eight, and great luck to you.

DE: Fine.

NYGA\B Spirit Music

2005-02-25T14:32:00.000-05:00

Club.

Men.

Who do we know?

Who is the artist attending to we blinking and shrinking good deeders? Really, shepards of sorts. We trowl and drop. Drag our hearts across the five boroughs aloft, no, alight with just one tape in our boombox.

What tape?

Who is this dixie demon (in a positive light)?

She requires a little song and dance to be proper about it. It's Tori Amos, but because of the internet submission, well, it's sort of political, or, religious or something. Not to make too much of it. Well.

And I'm ashambles. Of course. Couldn't be any other way. Gather round, cubs. Listen.

Show me the things I've been missin
Show me the ways I forgot to be speaking
Show me the ways to get back to the garden
Show me the ways to get around the get around
Show me the ways to button up buttons
That have forgotten they're buttons
Well we can't have that
Forgetting that
-Tori

If I ever catch one of you men.

If I ever.

Hold my hand, it's warm.

Blessings,
Doctor Eight

James, GO PICK THEM UP. Not asking, sweetheart, telling.

2005-02-23T16:45:00.001-05:00

And if you see a wet human, use your shirt to clean them up. That's what we do.

Do not disappoint me.

Doctor Eight

Don't Look Back, Stay on Track, Snack Snack Snack It's A Snack Attack

2005-02-22T15:36:00.000-05:00

Mark an effort to limit yourself, whelp. Be self control, don't exercise it for foolish promises produce just diddly, bar none. Look at that humping food. You want to fuck it? You want to show it your coolie and then tell all? About how it filled every little nook and cranny you got with what it was and that that made you cry real hard? Oh I remember being a special kid and having special objects given to me. My skin was so good then. Wasn't it? Wasn't it?

Shame.

Oh shame. Did you think you loved Egypt when you were a doe? Space? Dinosaurs? Go ahead and put the biscuit in that mouth you deserving dingle. Shedd's Spread cocoon, hey, at least you're safe!

THE RECIPE FOR TASTING HAMMERING AWAY FOR COUPLES

2005-02-18T14:27:00.000-05:00

Required Items:

1 Bucket Figs
1 Burlap Sack Folded Layers
1 Round Collection Meat Shredded
2 Handfuls Different Mixed Oils
1 Burning Up Bunch of Lard
10 Sprigs Round Herbs
3 Corn Covering
4 Pasta Nettles Hard As You Can Find
2 Complimentary Leftovers
(Ongoing) Replenishment Water

STEPS

1. Get that Replenishment Water going right away. This Project is for couples only!

2. Prime your materials across a large table near your heat, demanded to be at least 460 Degrees F. Do not mess around with this. You'll want your Corn Covering to sear plenty black so get it in terrible heat when you can. Now!

3. You can smash up your Bucket Figs with your Round Collection Meat Shredded. This is a base. Go as far as your partner in the couple will allow you. Pound and pound away at your mixture. Try to destroy it. You can't. Remember your Bucket that your Bucket Figs was from.

4. After all, your Burning Up Bunch of Lard will do a number on your Pasta Nettles Hard As You Can Find. Let them blister and let them burn. Things are heating up. Run your Replenishment Water on your face.

5. Good thing about that Bucket. Some of your Replenishment Water ties the next action together. Stir in your Sprigs Round Herbs, now seared Corn Covering, blistered Pasta Nettles Hard As You Can Find, your Complimentary Leftovers and finally fill in the cracks with your Handfuls Different Mixed Oils. This will accept some of the heat.

6. Drop your well mixed Bucket Figs and Round Collection Meat Shredded into the last mixture. It's all in the bucket now and there are two layers. Every minute counts.

7. Suspend your bucket full of ingredients over your heat. Not too close! It's going to bubble up and you're right to pummel it down and it releases some air. This is going to taste good with brown flavored drinks.

8. Once you're confident about it's cooking, run with it together to your car. Lay your Burlap Sack Folded Layers on the passenger's lap. Ride with your mixture in your Bucket there. Start driving around a tight block, and if you haven't failed the denser elements in your mixture will be drawn to the block by some force. Return, and get your mixture on top of that heat for a quick touch up. You did it and you did it together. It's time to consume that Tasting Hammering Away for Couples.

Do not use your hands!

An Historical Living Tribute, The Golden Dust on Our Heart Has Got to Come from Somewhere. Co-Founder and Conspirator, S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N.

2005-02-16T10:55:00.001-05:00

Without him. Well, without his Halloa, there's not much to talk about, gang. As part of outreach, the S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N.'s bio is butter business: for the group and beyond, he must be known.

What isn't a murky start? He ate his way through the first years. Milk for rubbing and milk for scrubbing, the only way he cobbled heroic strength from the starting blocks is milk. Let it be a lesson to you. Get it while you can and rub it on your tummy if there's enough to go around.

But how did he become a king among men? Did he loofah the psychic boils, the mordant trappings of human aspiration, from his body? From his dilated synaptic chambers? Did he dig down and pull it up, or did it yank his bootstraps causing him to present like a rhesus? No takers for that fulsome rib-eye bloom? Fools, all of you. Fools.

We may never know. Possessor of several important fortifying skills. Which is to say, he's different from you. He's an example. A polycractic demander. Without pity, but not without understanding. The old gods are stories that people made up. Good stories.

Bearer of NYGA\B's standard. Bravateur. Do'er of good deeds. Follow S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N. He's got answers.

Peace to You,
Doctor Eight

A Letter of Notable Greetings

2005-02-15T18:33:00.000-05:00

Dear Jeff,

You nip on the bud, we've made final decisions. All along, it's been the right place, and plenty noise is being made for you without juking, and instead with adulation and excessive respect. You are around now, little diddle. There are accolades and awards to follow, now that you're part of this club.

Welcome to NYGA\B. You cow. You holy roller. Halloa to you. And Halloa to that Halloa. That's how big we're frickin talkin, spud. We're hosting a chatty dinner in your honor, and it's you and me at the head of the table under the same cape. Just this once. You are to eat and drink with naughty abandon. That's what winning is all about.

What's next, did you ask, my swallow? You'll be fitted for molds in the coming week, and initial work will be done over the weekend by our man. You'll be outfitted. And you will be beautiful.

I am flipped out to announce that your spirit animal is The Dove. We haven't had anything like that for some time, and for the most part it's really dignified. You will be wrapped in our basking and I've got an ascot that you actually didn't know was hiding in your locker this whole time. Welcome to the club, it's not what you're looking for, it's how you look for it.

Well all else for shame, you're a tender addition.

Congratulations. There's a lot of people out there who need a little help. Time for you to answer their call, because that's what we do.

We're the NYGA\B.

Blessings Forever,
Doctor Eight

Some Early In's. Effortlessly pulling rank, the fellow doesn't follow. And test me. There will be no mercy if the lithe fingers touch the lathe.

2005-02-14T18:05:00.000-05:00

Later, it will be done.

Doctor Eight

NOTICE TO AGGIE

2005-02-11T17:37:00.000-05:00

You left your bags under the couch at headquarters. I find them confiscated. Never do well, you yodel ding-a-ling. Let's talk, and everybody lay off until I've had a piece.

Doctor Eight

RECIPE FOR TASTING DISAPPOINTMENT

2005-02-10T16:49:00.000-05:00

Required Items:

1 Spool Unspoiled Wrapping String
2 Heating Handles
1 Oven
4 Tablespoons Climbing Ink
20-30 Grapes Opened Revealing Inserted Spicy Sugar
Sisal Bed Wrapping
4 Legs Lamb (Same Blood Family)
4 Capillary Tubes
1 Bag Sandstone
4 Cups Seasoning

STEPS

1. Unwrap Spool Unspoiled Wrapping String to anticipate the type of work you're going to do. It helps to perform this loosening around your Sisal Bed Wrapping.

2. Get known to your 4 Legs Lamb (Same Blood Family). You've got some time on your hands, and don't waste any of 4 Cups Seasoning, but for trust, pinch off some. Ignore their base making this safer for plunging in your Heating Handles near the top, full of meat. Arrange your Legs Lamb (Same Blood Family) two at a time near your Spool Unspoiled Wrapping String and Sisal Bed Wrapping.

3. Raise your Oven temperature to a killing 700 Degrees F. Nothing else will do.

4. Plunge Capillary Tubes into your Legs Lamb (Same Blood Family), one per. This is the time to pass through your Tablespoons Climbing Ink, right into your Capillary Tubes. Un-Insert and Re-Insert many many times pushing in that Climbing Ink efficiently.

5. You should be thrilled. Thread your Grapes Opened Revealing Inserted Spicy Sugar on the Spool Unspoiled Wrapping String in a cycle around all Legs Lamb (Same Blood Family) as a first step binding. It's possible to alternate fat meat head with alternate base to make things better.

6. The whole bundle is made complete when surrounded by your Sisal Bed Wrapping. Don't forget to include Cups Seasoning which wait for discovery by natural juices!

7. Drop it in your searing Oven, on the contents of Bag Sandstone. Don't pay attention to the Oven for a while, then pay close and special attention. You will know party time when contents of your Bag Sandstone are not just glistening, they're polished.

8. Each human gets one. Please decorate with your polished contents of Bag Sandstone and don't feel sorry for yourself, because you have just made Tasting Disappointment!

Relish this, and eat fast before you must defend yourself!

Some Tutorial for NYGA\B Would-Be's

2005-02-09T18:26:00.000-05:00

Clean yourself the fuck up.

This isn't a frat, but it's a men's club. And by men, that means there is an unspoken expectation towards decorum to those with good enough taste to catch that delicate good grace. Big blunt knock for weaker buddies. This is the inside scoop on the imperative club of five boroughs, so listen up. Button your buttons, and fasten on accessories. This is a wild ride imperative = fun and helping people in tiny ways. I'm not telling, I'm yelling. We represent = good and mostly together. We represent.

Doctor Eight

Popular Interview With A True Original

2005-02-08T08:58:00.000-05:00

NC: I am a well known newscaster.

TO: I am A True Original.

NC: There are are about a trillion things that distinguish you. Let's get down to details.

TO: All right.

NC: How do you do things differently?

TO: Well, who could advance this long strange tale without organizing things for themselves. Part of the latest initiative is keep track of everything that I say and do. Modestly, it's just the way that words kind of pop out of my mouth. I'll say something. You see where I'm coming from? I'm a little hesitant to throw my weight around with you. Especially because I think so much of the strength that you believe that you have comes from your clothes. The weave is generous. Your face though. Should I not say it?

NC: A True Original, do you worship anything?

TO: Well, I've actually found that things kind of operate the other way around, if you know what I mean.

NC: Ah, let me put it another way. There are plenty of ways to get that whistle in your mouth, but what makes you blow real hard?

TO: I don't understand the words you're saying.

NC: How do you deal with the cult of celebrity that seems to dog you?

TO: I mean, who doesn't like a nice smooth hand job from time to time?

NC: I see. One more question. What's your favorite thing to eat?

TO: If I had to pick, I guess I'd say passing around a hot urn of Tasting Tradition with some close friends. I burn my damn mouth every time, but it's worth it. It really brings people together.

NC: Well, thank you A True Original, good luck. Good luck.

A Big Lesson

2005-02-07T15:10:00.000-05:00

Our Digital LIfe:) When you're in bed at night you like to feel like you're in a cocoon, not a drunk humping canoe ride with NO RULES.
Originally uploaded by Doctor Eight.

Cube your head. Ok ok ok. Use a fancy laser beam, preferably a waffly matrix of intersecting laser beams with unlasered spaces between = one square centimeter. Pass that through your head's X-axis. You may need a helper to hold things together. All right. Now pass the lacing together lasers down your Y-axis. Things are about to get real messy. Make sure you stop the laser's progress at your important neck! Ask your helper to collect cubes of your head on a very clean and reflective tray and carry them over to the photography corner. Take detailed and precise digital photographs of every side of each little piece of your head from that metal tray. Depending on the size of your head there could as many as 700 pieces, so don't settle in for a long winter's nap! BE ALERT. Ok, almost done. Take all of those photographs and place them into your computer. Arrange them in there. What you've got is a perfect digital version of your head - inside and out, and if you're really good at computers, you can make it move right there on the screen!

Our Friend Matthew

2005-02-04T11:55:00.000-05:00

Creep, why did you return to the scene? The list of grievances is an arms length long and blast it all if I don't have the time to list them. Go take a long walk. Wave of the future, man. Wave of the fuckin' future.

Heyyyyy. Just kidding. Oh. I know. You're delicate. Trembling around the people who menace. Don't kid yourself. I know what it's like to hurt inside. I know what it is to be ridiculed. Let's have a fresh start, ok brother? Let's make nice. It's not hard, it's plentiful. Here put a little bit of this in your pocket. Oop. Yeah, there you go. Don't pat it. Don't you dare.

You've always been the big guy who comes into the room and makes a big hoo-ha with your stinky coolie. Wagging it about. Saying the big gape halloas and knowing the girlfriends and boyfriends. Hey. You. I was saying that shit before just to get you close. Ima smack the bitch up.

You.

First I want to put some cold cream on your face. You really need it. Get the fuck away from me, and get the fuck away from my men's club. You're banned. You are beaten. Your family is a bunch of grass dwellers, crusty duster. Make sure you thank them on my behalf for you. I'll send them a bag of blood that I've been sitting on for a week.

Fed Ex pal. We've got cash, and plenty of it.

Lookin For NY Place To Live

2005-02-03T10:43:00.000-05:00

From: *Name*
To: Doctor Eight
Subject: lookin for ny place to live

Hello.. my name is *Name*.. i am a 23 year old producer/sound engineer from l.a and is planning to move to ny in march to continue school.. I am sorta interested in what your proposing. i like space.. i need space... i am a hella cool person to live with.. not uptight about anything... eazy going... 420 friendly.. reply when u can..
thanks for your time

---------------------------------------------------------------

From: Doctor Eight
To: *Name*
Subject: RE: lookin for ny place to live

Hi *Name*,

Nice to meet you. I am so glad that you're amenable to 420 - it's one of my favorite numbers LOL! Any number underneath 400 generally makes me nervous as they are too easily divisible - what with my training!

If you're going to join me in my living space, you should know a few things about me - here are some of my faves (though not in order of priority silly!):

Anything digital - I'm SUCH a technophile:)
My mom's feet.
Using my words!
Planning ahead.
Being laden with the month's groceries walking towards the place - you'll know what i mean.
Silk!
Sharing ;)

Now to you? I'd love some more details. Las Vegas is so far away. What school would you like to attend in new york? I will approach them on your behalf if you would like and talk to them if you live with me. My reference is always myself, and truth be told it's always a good one.

Blessings,
Doctor Eight

Buy your wine at Trader Joe's? Big pop read about two buck chuck in the NEW YORK TIMES and said it's THE SHIT.

2005-02-01T17:16:00.000-05:00

Buy your wine at Trader Joe's? My dad read about it in the NEW YORK TIMES., originally uploaded by Doctor Eight.

RECIPE FOR TASTING MACARONI AND CHEESE TWO YEARS BEFORE YOUR DAD'S HEART EXPLODES

2005-02-01T13:49:00.000-05:00

Required Items:

1 Box Macaroni and Cheese With Attendant Consolidated Cheezy Flavor Packet
1 Hot Pot
2 Chicken Eggs
Sauce, Hot
2 Parts Skim Milk
8 Raw Frankfurters
1 Big Big Knife
1 Refrigerator
1 Sample Tasting Tradition

STEPS

1. Carefully empty 2 Chicken Eggs into your Hot Pot. It will need around ambient 190 Degrees F to encourage your 2 Chicken Eggs.

2. Squirt Sauce, Hot right over 2 Chicken Eggs in a twisting way. You ought not to mix it further than the swirling that you pump through the air. Monitor your Hot Pot and its relationship to this new mixture.

3. Things are warming up. Utilize your Big Big Knife to coin the 8 Raw Frankfurters.

4. Drink down that Sample Tasting Tradition. You need it here.

5. Distribute your Box Macaroni and Cheese With Attendant Consolidated Cheezy Flavor Packet right into that Hot Pot along with your 2 Parts Skim Milk. The order of this is really crucial.

6. Can't wait! After that's done cooking you need to drop it right in the Refrigerator for some time. Don't be concerned with texture, your Hot Pot needs to descend to at least 22 Degrees F.

7. Pull that Hot Pot from your refrigerator and plop coin 8 Raw Frankfurters in there and you've got the final mixture.

8. Serve it in wide striped bowls to three nine year olds and a six year old. Don't take no for an answer when they balk. Offer them ketchup to pass into that mixture. Ensure they eat every bite for you.

Be careful what you wish for!

Sterile Equipment

2005-01-28T10:28:00.000-05:00

Some hints for the day:

Someone is chasing you. They've been at it for as long as you can remember. If you misbehaved in the store as a child, the man would come and spank you. Same man, modern day. He made it out of the store and is free wheeling with a hunger. For your cootie with a paddle.

You'll bounce back from adversity if you manage to avoid the big dirty boot. Afraid-of-nothing? Meet forget-me-not. She's had a velveteen pouch full of pixie dust to tussle into your hair for years now, and your number's finally been yanked from the sack. If only you believe ;-)

Order out tonight! Come on, treat yourself!

To Our Guests

2005-01-26T15:11:00.000-05:00

To this year. The year of all years. The year that won't quit.

The year to take any regulatory implants in for routine maintenance. Write it down as part of a list. Make sure the other items on the list seem real menial to you, so this essential task has sparkling significance. So it stands out. Plastic things break. Metal objects are not dependable.

To the year.

Three hundred and bag-change of disappointing feelings and goals that won't be met. The guy obscured through the subway door window stretching that plastic bag to its limit doesn't have a home in the sense that you define it. And the leather bag next to him contains hundreds more bags of the same or similar dimensions. Filled with nothing. Go home and eat an egg. Go home and squeeze out a great big one.

To day tripping this year as part and parcel to toasting the year proper! Sometimes you just got to get away from the grind. Hop the train and hop the bus. Take the subway somewhere unexpected. Bring a metal detector! Keep the change!

To our year. When fun will take over and strap on the helmet that we made for it with our own hands.

The year that Daddy won't know when to stop tickling.

To us.

To the year.

THE RECIPE FOR TASTING TRADITION

2005-01-24T17:21:00.000-05:00

Required Items:

1 Beating Stick
1/2 Cup Fresh Oil
1/2 Cup Tonic
3 Pieces Lamb
3 Tablespoons Gorgonzola Mixture
1 Big Hot Cup
8 Curling Inside Supports, Fresh
1 Flame and Clean Metal Extension
2 Wedges Lemon

STEPS

1. Arrange Curling Inside Supports in a meeting in the middle of your Big Hot Cup. Please prick the temperature to approximately 160 Degrees F for your Big Hot Cup, but it is not important to sustain that temperature until the extreme end of this project.

2. Curling Inside Supports in place, mix 1/2 Cup Fresh Oil and 1/2 Cup Tonic by pouring the opposing in your Big Hot Cup at exactly the same time. It will create movement you are not going to expect.

3. Engage Flame to your Clean Metal Extension until it approaches a fierce 250 Degrees F in the open air.

4. Spackle that Clean Metal Extension with Tablespoons Gorgonzola Mixture and gingerly slide Pieces Lamb across. Balance is really very important in this one.

5. So close! When your Clean Metal Extension yields blood from Pieces Lamb quickly turn Pieces Lamb right over.

6. Slide Pieces Lamb into your Big Hot Cup. Disengage Flame from Clean Metal Extension, which is likely ruined in some way. This is the price of Tasting Tradition.

7. Squeeze Wedges Lemon into your Big Hot Cup and drop the skins in there. Finally grind every object in your Big Hot Cup with your Beating Stick.

8. Raise the temperature of your Big Hot Cup to 160 Degrees F for the final stretch.

9. Cooling off, draw from your Tasting Tradition right from your Big Hot Cup and pass it around from friend to friend.

Tasting Tradition is hot and dangerous, but it's really worth it!

Hot Connection

2005-01-21T13:58:00.000-05:00

Me: Sheath for the ugly stick. Know a hail mary backwards and forwards. What are your notable features? Well, for one, I prefer tortellini over fried chicken. I don't like it when the table cloth is touching me. I don't like to wear a watch. I don't like fat dogs. Gosh that gave me the shivers. No dogs whatsoever. I don't like holding the fort down. I don't like cheaters and the feelings that make them cheat. Who am I? I asked first.

You: Like to wear the short shorts, but showing off is absolutely last priority. Someone called me substantial.

Me: I do like exploration, and if you took the time to get to know me you would guess that I don't like binding. Well, as well as you thought you thought you knew me, I love binding things indeed. Can't count it against you, it was hypothetical. Substantial? Does that mean you're fat like the dogs I don't like?

You: I like rock music.

Me: I asked you a question.

You: Dodging.

Me: Dodged. On to the real marbled meat. I like to spend a lot of time in bed. How does that make you feel? Don't answer. There are good things in me like satisfying nooks and special interests. I'm partial to terror movies and soundtracks. I adore honey straight from the comb. So far I can't sink my teeth in you.

You: Well, walks in the park. Um, dancing with my best friends. Staying out late and throwing paying for it later and the inconvenience that may cause me bodily and emotionally to the wind up and out. Um, I'm lactose intolerant, and can't stand improv. Is that bad?

Me: Pull it back.

You: What?

Me: That was an order.

You: Um, you're starting to freak me out a little bit.

Me: I'm holding a hot wire.

You: What?

Me: That's a wire shooting sparks.

You: What? No. This isn't going to work out.

Me: You complete me.

You: God!

Here's a little constructive criticism:

If you're not ready for the big leagues be careful how you come off. This is not any version of any PSA for that matter either.

The Overheard Tittering Song

2005-01-20T09:06:00.000-05:00

Correspondent Image to the Overheard Tittering Song, originally uploaded by Doctor Eight.

It's messy being dropped from the blessy nest tail cresty fresh.
Smells like, uh I don't know whatever Colonel says
Neatly plucked dressed dead and pressed.
What's the best part, the breast?
No, this one, I'll check the neck his shit was too hi-test.

Not to be dismissive, I mean, this shit is unscripted
Glad to find all uplifted.
Whether snifted when he ripped it
Of piffed when he legit, Aw shit, bit the witch's tit,
Right? No, he can't talk his jeans too tight,
And anyway I think he wanna fight.
Too late he dead it's dusk here's night.

Let's have a meeting

2005-01-19T16:31:00.000-05:00

Ninny.

You stink. You're distracted, lazy and overall, disappointing. I once believed in you and now don't - at all. What made you valuable all along has been finely scrutinized (Yes even when you didn't feel watched, turd furburger) and you're deficient in nearly every way possible, and in others on the tip of my tongue, barely conceived but confident in their eventual birth for your idiocy and incompetence.

I'd like you to cry.

What I mean to say is, it would make me gleeful if you wept at my displeasure and judgement of your palsied character. Please? It's hard to keep you from crying every day, so how about sparing me this self-effacing attempt at composure.

What, are you holding on to your dignity?

You see in order to have dignity, one has to have to have something of value, like skills, or an interesting world-view or even a hot mate. None of the above? Precisely. You're welling up. There you go, scum sucking pot-sticker. Feeling bad? Good, now we're getting somewhere.

The you inside of you that feels like it's dying inside every day? Yeah, that little guy. Oh, that's been out in the open there for quite some time. SURPRISE! Can you only imagine what it's been like for us? All of the little secrets and covenants that you keep with yourself ending in "...and that's why they'll never know!" We knew. We always knew. It was like it was tattooed on your forehead, "NOT EVEN A CHARITY CASE - KICK MY ASS ON AN EMOTIONAL LEVEL SO IT REALLY HURTS. I'M A BOTTOMLESS PIT FOR THAT."

Hey peach fuzz, don't go anywhere, we're just getting to the good stuff. C'mere and get up on my lap. Take a sucker. Make sure you're comfy, this'll take a while.

Dear Anthony,

2005-01-18T14:20:00.000-05:00

Anthony, originally uploaded by Doctor Eight.

We're going to do this now, and on the web, Shill. Cad. Force it even though it doesn't belong, and it's called self-respect, pig-person.

Afraid that Mommy's reading? Afraid her granny panties are in a grease-squeezing knot because a real man is denying you access? Think you can follow this button nose through all the dusty dirties? Huh? Can't hear you Prince Valiant, your standard bearer just held a press conference - everybody knows you've got a scaly coolie.

You are formally disallowed from NYGA\B. Go lift weights, you deserve each other.

Yours,
Doctor Eight

A real cornucopia has justice written all over it in the blood of your forebears.

2005-01-14T13:59:00.000-05:00

A real cornucopia has justice written all over it in the blood of your forebears., originally uploaded by Doctor Eight.

So I said to her, "Look, a ride on Monday is out of the question. I have feelings. I don't fear much, but when I get feeling disenfranchised at all, forget about it, I'll run from the town to the other town, and over to the town I'm from."

She balked, in that smarmy way that I had gotten used to. Hissing and grunting, bubbling over - what a combo. I'd leave all my things at home if I had to deal with the ruckus, projecting feelings onto what was really, simple dialogue.

"Oh justify it," she said.

"I'm lazy, but I'm not rich. The last time, I got less than you, and I got half of what you got. I think I know what you're getting at. Just to show you how far I've come, here's the directions I've stolen." I point forward with my hand, "Follow up, make a right on my parent's country lane, and keep on driving until you nearly drift off. You'll come up on the grey pond, left after that. Make your way past the store, and face what's coming up on the horizon. Bear left. Pull in. There's parking in the back." I had made a twisting map in the air.

She got up and got down.

I continued, "You'll need this ticket. Don't be afraid to flash it like you don't give a good goddamn. You'll feel like all eyes are on you. They are. But everyone thinks that that means pack up your breakfast, hop back in the car and head back. No, no, no. Never give up when there's some time left. Can't say that's original. Not original."

By this time the sun was way up, and burning bright holes in everything. I couldn't tell if we were getting somewhere. We weren't arriving at any point. In the fair, dumpy ditch we had dropped most of the items we had brought for this showdown: a pad of recycled paper, eye drops, a polaroid camera, and a copy of a book. I had dropped a tube straight down, and it was stained with mud and small rocks.

"Cancelled," she exclaimed abruptly.

Whose nose was turned up on that day, and I had practically signed a contract and hopped on for this sad sad story.

"All right, I'm listening," I offered.

"You're fucking insane," barking now.

"I'm used to it. Your vulgarity is off and running. What are we going to focus on now? Here I am, about as calm as can be, because I've covered myself, I've covered my parents; No one's knocking on our door. Let's stop this for a moment. Brush off your face."

She pulled her face off.

"We're getting somewhere. My my, you are rational when feelings are at stake. I'm full of you. Plain as the night sky, you fuck."

"Replace it," I replied rather more dictatorially than I had thought possible, "I've had enough."

I thought it better that we finished the conversation next door, so I motioned to her to wheel me up the ramp and around the corner.

She sprouted as she spoke, "I knew it. Fancy comes as forward motion fakes it. You're a real asshole. A loveable type, but boy I could really read you your rights. Should we put us behind ourselves?"

Not answering, I started to shake my head this way and that, tapping my fingers like a metronome.

"Let's finish with a riddle you bastard," she said.

"I'm game."

"No, you're responsible for every bit of information."

"Okay, when can I start this new plan?" I asked.

Her fingers tightened around the handles, and I knew what it was, the future was coming down the pike, and we wouldn't even be able to stop that mother working together.

THE RECIPE FOR TASTING CHICKEN

2005-01-14T11:20:00.000-05:00

Required Items:

1 Chicken
1 Block of Sharp Wisconsin Cheddar Cheese (Extra Sharp) grated
3 Celery Stalks
1/2 Cup Shortening
2 Plugs of Haw Haw
2 Egg Yolks
4 Tablespoons Water
1 Pan

STEPS

1. Smear Pan with shortening. Try to cover every single inch in the event that your Chicken is disturbed.

2. Light up the oven to your preference depending on the amount of time that you would like to work on the Tasting Chicken project. Very hot is 600 degrees F. Medium hot we consider 450 Degrees F. Not hot we consider 150 degrees F. Depending on the amount of heat F employed, it might mean a considerably different number of hours spent working on the project.

3. Place Plugs of Haw Haw and all Cheddar Cheese into a bowl with your Tablespoons Water. Mash up Plugs of Haw Haw and Cheddar Cheese with your gloved hands. You'll find this easy for your Tablespoons Water!

4. Push Egg Yolks across and around Chicken. Fill the hole of Chicken with Haw Haw/Cheddar Cheese/Tablespoons Water mixture. Stuff it in.

5. Almost there! From the same hole of Chicken fan out Celery Stalks like a tail. Place Chicken in Pan, which you should then slide into the oven.

6. Watch your Chicken in that oven!

7. After your Chicken is golden brown remove it from the oven.

The real beauty of the recipe for Tasting Chicken is it's fun.

Enjoy by yourself or with a friend!

I CAN GET AROUND WITHOUT YOUR HELP!

2005-01-13T18:29:00.000-05:00

Hi my name is diversion.

Please get back to me regarding this weeks exclusive offer. Notice has been sent to our lawyers that you and your whole collection are ducking the question.

My job is to handle all of your business. Lay it on us. If you have something to show for it, give it to email. I am information. This email is an email. Email is chock full of formation. Your RSVP is direly supported. My email is my email. Lay it on her. My name is someone laid an oinker egg. Faboo.

Lately, someone sent me a special package. That package included: hors d'oeurves, axle, name that tune. Lovely patronizing. Email is the flipping news. Make up for that.

All right, love that new style. I emailed you about that. I emailed the style sheets to you and fancy tag-team is the new business. Whoop whoop.

In permission, the pants you sent me were way too big. Everyone at the store laughed nose bleed. Okay. Think of one hundred ruined jackets. Discipline is everywhere. Fairly, one more two.

All participants called and zapped. Afraid of nothing, meet the lamplighter. Take it easy and take it easy. No one plays second fiddle for dumpy dirties.

I think we're talking.

A Camping Song

2005-01-13T13:59:00.000-05:00

I heard from a whole bunch of bees.
They dialed up and said, "Puh-lease,
don't extort the action scene
of its loafing farts and krispy kreemes."

When I caught on that they wanted me,
to git on stage and start to scream,
I beeped them back, an emergency,
that the whole durn thing's diaree -

I removed my moles one by one.
Placed them right up on my tongue.
The bees called back from planet fun,
now for blood from everyone.

"Organize!" I cried out in vain,
through the thick and bitter rain.
They came on down right through the drain,
yellin', "You won't live to see the day."

CHORUS:

I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.

Through the shadows and burning tears
I overcame my piddling fears
of swarms of bees and lighted trees,
'Cause Jesus found my luggage tags.

He is a great and frightful man
reached right out and grabbed my hand.
Led me up to the promised land,
and sent me back, with another plan.

He said, "Set on out for planet Earth,
Find a beast with tremendous girth.
Whisper right into its ear,
that it's no use - the bees are here."

CHORUS:

I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.

BONUS CHORUS:

I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.
I am red.

CODA:

Levelin' off .
Levelin' off .
One two three four five six seven, levelin' off.
Levelin' off.
Levelin' off.
We're levelin' off.
You're levelin' off.
I'm levelin' off.
We're levelin' off.
Levelin' off.

I think it's time to talk.

2005-01-13T11:14:00.000-05:00

As charter members of the NYGA\B, I think we have to
consider laying down the laurels, and admitting that
this hasn't worked. We have no dues-paying members, no
scooters, no manifesto, and most importantly - WE -
the would-be bearers of the NYGA\B standard towards
it's destined ubiquitous perch over the 5 boroughs -
don't even have braces.

What really breaks my heart is that so much good could
have been done.

The de-facto standard of living in this gritty city
that could have drastically improved for our efforts,
our ascots, and our kind and selfless deeds. More safe
street crossing. Trimmed hedges. Less pole leaning.

What happened?

Really how productive can the blame game be? I'm not
pointing my finger at you. Well, at least not straight
at you. There are so many factors: lack of funds, lack
of stout hearts, lack of the piss and vinegar it takes
to cry. You know what I mean. Really cry.

I'm no quitter - and I'm guessing you're not either,
but i think it might take a bag full of blood and a
pair of jumper cables to get this thing started, and
blood is really hard to get.

I was feeling discouraged last night. Hurt. Confused.
I thought we had everything figured out.
That is, until I realized that out of every pile of
filthy ashes, a phoenix can and WILL emerge.

Lick your thumb and stick it in the air. Does that
mean you know something about the wind, and how it's
going to treat you in the next little while? The
people around you might think so, and that's exactly
what I'm getting at.

Enter the NYMWRUTTEKR

The New York Men Who Respect, Understand, and Try To
Experience Kokopelli Respectfully

It descended on me like a blinding flash. The NYGA\B
was too namby-pamby to ever cohere. I looked inside
myself and fellow man and understood that the impish
desire to do good is only a thinly veiled contempt for
everything that doesn't smell and sound like (Y)ou.
Why force it?

The New York Men Who Respect, Understand, and Try To
Experience Kokopelli Respectfully is a competitive
organization whose basis is essentially this: while we
respectfully approach the Kokopelli and its mystery,
follow its instructions, and bear ITS standard among
the 5 boroughs, we do so predicated only on the
understanding that there is only one Kokopelli. And it
will choose only one of us to take with it when it
goes. Only one. And while we have to work together
until that fateful day, eventually we will have to
connive and defeat each other to gain its fancy and
its favor.

Sounds more realistic doesn't it?

Perhaps you and I can arrange a discovery tour in the
near future, because I understand that this new
direction will require some finessing. To that point I
have BLIND CARBON COPIED this email to protect myself.
I think you know what I mean. Perhaps we can arrange
an initial group meeting - and perform some feats of
strength, and eat too much.

Warming the earth by playing his flute and singing
songs, Kokopelli would melt the winter snow and create
rain, ensuring a good harvest. Kokopelli often
displayed a long phallus, the robber fly, a
humped-back insect and a persistent copulator, and the
petroglyphic flute player with the cicada (maahu),
whose proboscis resembles a flute, whose buzzing is
described as fluting, and who can appear to have a
hump.

Bye Bye NYGA\B,
Your Friend