[--------------------------------------------------------------------------] ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #566 `888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8 888 888 888 888 888 "How I Became Normal" 888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8 888 888 888 888 888 " by AnonGirl 888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 4/11/99 o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8 [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] When I was a child, my brother and I would go on several adventures and make amazing discoveries. We would find ourselves running from large animals, running as fast as we can. We would find ourselves petrified of the tree with the horrid face in its trunk. Swarms of bees would attack us, though we would make it out without a single sting. The inventions we came up with were fantastic. Record players would serve as an evil ploy of Snakeyes' to make Duke and Flint dizzy. Skeletor would use whipped cream to trap He-Man. Bookshelves would turn into fortresses, blankets would become instant housing, and snow was the most deadly weapon of all. My brother and I discovered a bullfrog, while on a trip to the lake. We called him Frogslegs, for we were at a loss of any other name. We decided to bring him back home with us, to the suburb where we lived. We couldn't tell our parents, because Dad would have had a fit if he'd known there was a frog in the car. We hid him in the Kleenex box. The drive was only four hours, we figured he would survive. Soon into the drive, however, my brother and I fell asleep. We were carried to our beds when we arrived, not thinking of Frogslegs. The next morning, we remembered, and ran out to the car to discover a dead Frogslegs. We were so ashamed of ourselves, that we held a funeral for him, and gave him a proper burial. Every spring meant caterpillar season for us. While waiting for Mother to pick us up from school, my brother and I discovered a nest of small caterpillars and decided that we wanted to bring them home. My mother was not pleased when she saw our handfuls of caterpillars, but she didn't flip. On the way home, one of the catepillars pissed on my hand, so I shoved it down one of the old childseat holes in the area between the back seats and the back winshield. The next day, my mother was driving me to a soccer game, when suddenly a caterpillar landed on her head, causing her to swerve off the road and hit a telephone pole. I didn't make it to the soccer game. When I was in kindergarten, our teacher professed that riding "doubles" (two people on one bike) would make God unhappy, and we would be sent to Hell. One day, I was riding doubles with my friend Jaime when suddenly we both fell. I smashed my face on the curb, which caused a mark on my cheekbone. Luckily, I didn't become disfigured. As I ran home crying, the only thing that could be heard in my mind was "I made God unhappy! God pushed us off the bike! I'm going to Hell!" Around the age of nine, I had become fascinated with projectile objects, such as catapolts. Invention day came around, and I invented a miniature catapolt made out of popsicle sticks. It managed to shoot objects up to ten feet. I was very proud. Continuing with making things that could throw, I made a sling shot out of some odd little metal thing, and an elastic. My mother didn't like it, because I used it to shoot things at the French kids down the street. She tried to confiscate it, but she wasn't swift enough. I decided that I would bury it in a small dirt path on my street. While digging with my hands, the really good-looking boy who worked at the corner store walked by, gave me a strange look, and continued walking. I felt like a worm. What was this t-file about again? [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #566 - WRITTEN BY: ANONGIRL - 4/11/99 ]