=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= These Shoes Are Made For Walking -------------------------------- He was mean. Hyperbaggy jeans overlapping his trendy Vans slapping against the sidewalk, hopping over the cracks and drifting off into a payphone jutting out the brightly lit city street. Lifts the receiver, up to the ear, flat dialtone. Fingers racing across the keys, ringing in the ear, pounds a few more keys, kerchunk. Buzzing. Rings of dark unfulfilled sleep encircle his fluorescent blue eyes. Pushes bits of bleached blond hair back and pops in his headphones. Dark, brooding, violent music. Slips out the door into the musty day, bookbag hunching him over, loaded with the weight of information. The bookstore is spread out. Cashier behind the counter, picking nose or doing something else perhaps even less trivial. Vans slap carpet, walls of information adorn the environment. Steps into the computer section, flip, flip, flip goes the pages of the book, remove tag, drop in bookbag. Spin around, dash out the door. Down the street and into the pizza parlor. Smells of grease and baking bread. Goes for a coke and a slice of pizza. Police car creeps by, brown haired cop, dopey and beady little eyes masqueraded behind a pair of thick black lenses. The bridge of his nose slightly offsets them, permanent scowl resides on his face. Gun comes out of his pocket, fires off a few rounds, no one notices in the big city. He walks out onto the streets, eyes darting from side to side, paranoia sweeping in like mad. Runs like he's on fire down the street and hops right over and into the barrel of an awaiting officers gun. Down on your knees and hands behind your back. Stiff kick to the ribs, belted across the face with a pistol. Nose bleeds profusely, fear, oppression, anger. In the cruiser, down the street, into town hall. Walks up the marble steps, slipping and crashing down on his knee. Jeans tear. Vans slap across the floor of an entirely mundane building. Electric sensors strapped to his body, questioning begins. '2+2 is 4.' False. Zap. '2+2 is 4.' False. Zap. '2+2 is 4.' Fuck you. Crunch, cheek bone plastered by the barrel of a gun, caressing it in a not so friendly manner. 'Accept our truth, don't look for your own answers. No more problems, no more knowledge, ignorance. Understand, accept, love the system. Fortune is yours.' Fuck you, deep scowl from he who wears the vans. Bullet in the eye to suppress the man who could bring the end to the lie. Shoes sure look battered. Knowledge is power, keep them ignorant, keep your power. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions = = Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with = = "subscribe fuck". If you do not have FTP access and would like back = = issues, send a list of any missing issues and they will be mailed. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = AnonFTP FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK = = FTP.SEKURITY.ORG/pub/zines/fucked.up.college.kids = = FTP.DTO.NET /pub/zines/fuck = = FTP.ETEXT.ORG/pub/Zines/FUCK = = WWW *** http://www.sekurity.org/~fuck *** = = http://www.dimensional.com/~jericho = = http://www.reps.net/~krypt/fuck.html = = http://www.simunye.com/fuck = = http://www.dis.org/se7en/fuck = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = (c) Copyright. All files copyright by the original author. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=