From: Linda Reed--PCC West Campus CSC <lreed@west.cscwc.pima.edu>
Date: Tue, 14 Jul 1998 20:32:47 -0700 (PDT)
To: cypherpunks@toad.com
Subject: No Subject
Message-ID: <009C92EF.3F4221C0.5@west.cscwc.pima.edu>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain


~         BUMGIRL          ~
Entertainment for NastyGirls             July 1998 * $7.09
____________________________

Trojan Horse Sucking
Anniversary Issue

BumGirl Interview:
Wham! Bam! Thank ou Ma'am!
T.C. BUTTSLAM
{AKA-T.C. May, FifteenInchNails, Human Gus-Peter Sr., 
     AConsistentNetPersonaToBeNamedLater, CypherPunks
     Philosopher King, The Last True CypherPunk, 
     The Only Real CypherPunk, ad infinitum}

VIAGRA AND SALTPETER
Jim Belushi's Untold Story

Mick 
Jagger
GIVES GREAT LIP!

_____________________________________________________________

			DEAR BUMGIRL

BUMMED BO
  "I was devastated to learn that the June, 1998, issue of
  BumBoy Magazine was nothing more than a fraudulent ruse
  by the Electronic Forgery Foundation.
  "Were the terrible things said about Tim C. May in the
  BumBoy Interview with C-J VAN DAMNNED actually true?"
~Eric Cordial, T.O.T.O.

  {ou will find out in this month's BumGirl Interview,
   as we bend you over and 'give it to you'--straight 
   from the Horse's Ass. - BG}

		     THE BUMGIRL ADVISOR

THE DOORS OF DEPTH PERCEPTION
  "I gagged Linda Lovelace. What do I do with the body?"
~ William GagHer III,
  Dawn Long Juan of the CypherPunks Disturbed Male LISP

  {Wake up! (and smell Jennifer Flowers...) - BG}


			 MOVIES

TERMINATING RESISTOR 3
TR3 completes the Magic Circle of Eunuchs with a bizzare, if
somewhat predictable twist, as ACyborgToBeNamedLater begins
to materialize on the SilverSceenOfVirtualReality in the form
of TheRealGuy...naked, as usual.
It turns out that the Author, sent back in VirtualRealityTime
by John Parker, in order to ensure the safety of Captain John
Parker, thus preserving the course of history taken by the
American Revolution, got drunker than a skunk on cheap Scotch,
and ended up embroiled in the Legendary CypherPunks Moderation 
Revolution/Anti-Censorship CounterRevolution of 1997, instead.
The Author, again predictably, spills Scotch on his Digital
Implant during his journey through time, frying the Radio
Shack circuitry that resulted in HimOrHer being dubbed, "The
Six Million Peso ManOrWoman ($42.00/U.S.)" and becomes a
Taoist AuthorBot working for both the Farces of Light and
the Farces of Darkness, thus saving the movie producers the
expense of paying an extra actor in this low-budget, B-grade
Film BlancNoire.
The movie quickly degenerates into a pornographic monstrosity,
with Sarah Parker, unsure as to who the father of John Parker
actually is, since the little glue-sniffing prick was conceived
during an alcoholic binge, fucks everyone in sight, to make 
sure the little bastard gets conceived. The Author, obsessive-
compulsive tit-man that he is, invariably throws his hands over
her boobs at the slightest sign of danger, claiming, "John's a
growing boy...he needs his milk."
Investigating the Church of the SubGenius, the AuthorBot soon
discovers that the movie is being produced by a group of non-
union UnderGroundReptilianNazis, as a result of overhearing
several of the producer's phone conversations, which they
always end by saying, "Let's do Earth."
The AuthorBot develops an obsession with Little Timmy Mayonnaise
after becoming sexually excited by the Evil Dr. Vulis's ASCII
Art Spams, begins wearing a CoonSkin hat made from the hide of
Medgar Evans and drunkenly mumbling, "Remember Los Alamos...
Chop, Chop!" at every opportunity.
The saving grace of the movie is the soundtrack, courtesy of
Al Fowl And The Snakes, a Tucson ReptilianChickenBot Band
of ill-repute, featuring their Number 1 With a HollowPoint-
TeflonTipped-CopKillerBullet song, "If ou Can't Kill The
Authority Figure ou Love/Hate, Kill The One In our Cross-
Hairs."

BUMGIRL RATING - One Long, Hard Prick Up our Butt

__________________________________________________________

BumGirl Interview: T.C. BUTTSLAM

  A LindaLoveLaceInDepthInterview with one of the original
  Flounders ("I may smell like fish, but don't call me 
  chicken.") of the CypherPunks Disturbed Male LISP, Timothy 
  C. "No! It doesn't stand for 'cocksucker'!" May.
  After checking the Andy WhoreHole Mailing List archives, 
  and finding that it was <tcmay@got.net> who originally 
  posted the concept that, in the future, every CypherPunk 
  would have 15" of fame, BumGirl EditWhores decided to change
  the cover of the July, 1998, edition to feature a picture
  of a variety of current CypherPunks wearing only athletic-
  support cups with long, long, long bar-codes on them. 

  {ANastyBumGirlToBeReamedLater, caught in a cross-fire on
  Mayonnaise Mountain between Timothy C. May, the Philosopher
  Marksman of the CypherPunks Disturbed Male LISP, and LEA's
  who were badly outmanned and outgunned by the Cult Of One
  CypherPunk who owns a variety of weaponry registered in
  the names of a plethora of CypherPunks Consistent Net
  Personas, bent over and stuck her head in the sand, hoping
  that if she took one in the butt, it would be a long, hard
  one, Teflon-tipped, in order to penetrate her new Kevlar
  panties.
  The BumGirl interview took place during lulls in the action,
  when LEA agents carried off their dead and wounded, while
  LittleBigTimmy and Dust'em Hoffman argued over their Pretty
  Lousy Privacy CryptoPhones as to how many dead IRS agents
  it takes to spell, "I *told* you Jim Bell is a CypherPunk!"}


BumGirl: our Tim C. May CypherPunks Consistent Net Persona
has such long and well-documented history of raising hell with
the sides of the Bleeding Edge of InterNet Freedom and Privacy
Technology (TCM) that it is hard to know where to begin.

TCM: Let's talk about the Author, instead.

BumGirl: Shit! Is this interview just another piece of mindless
trash from the Electronic Forgery Foundation?

TCM: ou don't understand...*I* am the Author!

BumGirl: Well, bend me over and pretend we're married! Are 
you serious?

TCM: Nuke DC!
But seriously...Nuke DC!

BumGirl: If you are really the Author, as you claim, then why
aren't you trying to peek up my skirt, to see if I am wearing
panties?

TCM: That's Toto's schtick...pardon the pun...uuhhh...if it
*was* one...
Where was I? Hey! There's my shoes...
Anyway...
That's how the reader can tell which chapters of 'The True
Story of the InterNet' manuscripts are authentic, and which
ones are forgeries...by the perverted diatribes about peeking
up women's skirts that form an integral part of the forgeries
of that fucking asshole interloper on my...I mean...'the'...
CypherPunks list.
Besides, I read the above intro to this BumGirl interview, so
I know you're wearing Kevlar panties. That makes me *hot*...

BumGirl: Don't! Stop! Just because I have my head in the sand,
like your typical AOL'er, doesn't mean I can't tell what you're
trying to do back there...
Why did you stop? I'm Catholic, so I *have* to tell you to stop.
Don't! Stop! Don't stop! Don't stop!

TCM: Hey! That's not a diaphragm...that's a *badge*
Jesus H. 'Fucking' Christ! ou're Janet ReamHole...
DogFacedLyingMurderingNaziCunt!
No wonder you've got your head in the sand...

  [There was a loud popping sound on the audio tape that 
   the BumGirl EditWhores received from some anonymous
   coward, via snailmail with no return address on the
   envelope.
   The freelance BumGirl ReportWhore sent to do the
   interview mysteriously failed to return, causing us
   to wonder if we'd been duped, when the head of the
   DOBJ suddenly became 'unavailable for comment' at 
   the same time our ReportWhore disappeared. A few days
   later, however, the head of the DOBJ was spotted by
   the MainDream press as she exited a secret underground
   lavoratory suspected to be involved in cloning-related
   technology.
   Once an anonymous email arrived from Mark Hedges, who 
   really should learn to use learn remailers properly if 
   he's going to claim to be a CypherPunk (hint: delete 
   your digital signature before sending the fucking thing,
   dude...), BumGirl EditWhores couldn't help but notice 
   that, when she removed her glasses, she *did* look a lot 
   like Buddy...]


BUMGIRL DISCLAIMER:
There is absolutely no truth to the slanderous rumors being
spread by the Church of SubScientology (an affiliate of the
Norman Church--more commonly referred to as 'The Church of 
Jesus H. 'Fucking' Christ of Labor Day Chincs'--headquartered
in SaltLick City, China, and long rumored to be the secret 
lair of the Cult of One Dead Cow, Army of DogEaters Division),
turned over the violently abused and sexually violated carcass
of our missing BumGirl ReportWhore (dropped off at our offices 
by a barefoot, toothless old fart wearing a T-shirt with three 
lines of Perl code on the front) to local Ferral Bureau42 of 
Instigation foreskinsic axespurts.
The truth is, after our own exspurts performed DNA/RSA tests
on the body, to determine the exact nature of the bizarre
acts of cryptophilia performed upon her after her death, we
simply dumped her body next to several others down an old
mining shaft at a popular shooting range outside of Tucson,
where, unbeknownst to BumGirl, FBI agents were busy going
through the pockets of a witness to the Vincent Price/Phiszt
Foster parking-lot-car-drowning, having inadvertantly disposed
of the body without removing identifying signs such as large
diamond rings, expensive watches, folding money and loose 
change.
As the two MotorCycleMommaDykesOnSpikes, hired by BumGirl to
dispose of the body, fled the scene, they overheard one of
the FBI agents, who had been trained by Lieutenant Calley not 
to waste perfectly good pussy, exclaim, upon lifting our dead
ReportWhore's skirt, "Jesus H. 'Fucking' Christ, it's Jimmy 
FuckingGodamnn Hoffa!" Apparently, another FBI agent, after
performing a street-sniff test on our dead ReportWhore's 
dick, contended that it was not Hoffa, but J. Edgar Hoover,
with another agent confirming his suspicions by giving the
dick a long, involved taste-test to preclude any possibility
of the dick being a Cirle Of Eunuchs transplant meant to
disguise the body as that of the recently missing caterer
to the Bay Area CypherPunks physical meetings.

The MotorCycleMommaDykesOnSpikes told BumGirl EditWhores,
as we paid them the agreed-upon fee of 'as many rolls of
quarters as you can carry without using your hands', "We
couldn't pass up the opportunity to commit oral sodomy on
your dead ReportWhore before dumping HimOrHer down the
mind shaft, and, well...she tasted a lot like Buddy..."

Although it *is* true that BumGirl hired the current head
of the DOBJ to finish the BumGirl interview with TCM, (not
to be confused with Turner Classic Movies), we told HimOrHer
that the best approach would be to show up unannounced on
Mayonnaise Mountain, flash HisOrHer badge, and announce 
that she was just taking him downtown, 'to answer a few 
questions."
BumGirl EditWhores do not expect the T.C. BUTTSLAM interview
to be completed, but we are making plans to include a photo-
special in our next edition, titled, "Beware the Ides of May"
complete with never-before-seen scenes of oft-rumored but
never confirmed Secret CypherPunks Social Activities known
only to 34th Degree Masons and Greek immigrant HodCarriers.

      Also In The August, 1998, Edition Of BumGirl:
Army of Bitch Hostage Disposal - "Smoke 'em if you got 'em!"
Cult of One Dead Cow Mission Statement & Barbeque Recipe
CypherPunks Activity Project #327 - "Test (No Reply)"
BumGirl Interview: Buddy
"I should have suspected something when the SexCriminal had
 the WhiteHouse VeteranAryan, Attila T. Hun, pull *all* of 
 my teeth..."
CenterFold: Blanc Weber 
 "WhiteLipstick Power in MicroSoft Village"
 [WAS: MicroHard Victim of Friendly MakeOver--Corporate 
  Assettes Down 2" As BadBillyG Emerges From Closet Dressed
  For SuckSession, With Micro$not DC NaziSpinLobbyists 
  Standing Firmly <hee-hee> Behind Him]
 [NEVERWAS: CypherPunks Come Out Of Closet -- EmBareAssed
  Gay Activists Force Them Back In...]