Spot, The Overloaded Operator

From: (James "Kibo" Parry)
Subject:      Spot Story (was: The Dead Email Society)
Newsgroups:   alt.religion.kibology, alt.atheism, alt.mega-ego.yonderboy
Followup-To:  alt.religion.kibology
Organization: welcome datacomp
Date:         Wed, 25 Jun 1997 08:57:14 GMT
X-Battlestar-Galactica-Date: 9581 centons, 71 microns, .04 mugars
X-Kibo-Equipment: a distributed Lego robot (distributed by accident)

In [alt.religion.kibology, alt.atheism, alt.mega-ego.yonderboy]
asuter@Xenon.Stanford.EDU (Lupus Yonderboy) wrote:
| Thus spake (Gully Foyle):
| |
| | (Matt McIrvin) wrote:
| | >
| | > You forgot "Do not tell me to read the FAQ-- I am here to be entertained
| | > by you, not to go read a bunch of pretentious explanations!" and "If you
| | > do not believe in God it means you really believe he exists because
| | > otherwise you wouldn't have anything not to believe in!"
| |
| > Congratulations for dispelling any doubt that you are a moron, you've
| > saved us a great deal of time and uncertainty. If only all kooks who
| > come to this NG were so thoughtful.
> Come to Kibology! Now at half-off the newsstand price!

But it's only good for only a limited time only! If time proves to be
eternal, Kibology will self-destruct to prevent you from enjoying it after
9999 A.D., the year that will REALLY break God's DOS box!

> Kibology provides:
>         * Doubtless Morons
>         * Thoughtful Kooks
>         * Kooky Thoughts

(Kibo begins to go-go dance with flowers painted all over his body.
Suddenly he stops and the camera zooms in on what is painted on his


Ba ba bappa ba!

>         * In-jokes
>         * Out-jokes
>         * Spankings
>         * Allowedness

And all owedness!

Scientology joke: "Your owedness just ran over my lochness."

And here's another Scientology joke: "Why did the orange cross the road? To
eat hexagonal television pants!"


Kibology joke: "Why did the orange cross the road? To eat hexagonal
television pants AND KILL BOB HOPE!"

It's got AS MUCH HUMOR as the Scientology joke... PLUS it rids your home of

> And at no extra charge:
>         * Tab damage! (too cheap to meter)

It used to be a double spondee. With jimmies. That go down the conveyor
belt to the annealing vat, where the Bessemer process Vulcanizes them. But
little Jimmie doesn't need to know that! All he needs to know is that our
rubber vomit arrives fresh from our factory to his kitchen floor! "Plotz!"
That's the sound of progress!

>         * Angst!
>         * Bitterness!
>         * Vegetarian rants!
>         * Groupies! ('Jesse' only)
>         * Libertarian "Me too!" posts!
>         * Me too!

ERNIE: Me one the sandbox.

BERT: Me two the sandbox.

(continues a while)

ERNIE: Me seven the sandbox.

BERT: Me eight the sandbox.

ERNIE: What's that, Bert? You ate the sandbox and chewed it all up and
swallowed it even all the sand and the dirty balls the cat put there? And
you're a big doodyhead and you like to eat worms like the sandbox and run
like a girl and suck your thumb and cry a lot and always wear that stupid
shirt like you don't have any other clothes or something and are retarded
and smell like piddle and pick your nose and eat it like the sandbox?

BERT: Um... oh dear. I have fallen into your trap. There is no way around
your logic.

RENE DESCARTES: Why, Bert, here's a secret exit from Ernie's logical trap!

(Rene opens an iron gate suspended in mid-air. Bert steps through.)

BERT: AAAAAAAAAAAaAaAaAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa... (fades away as he falls to infinity)

RENE: Don't fuck with logic, Bert!

ERNIE: And stop eating my sandbox!

RENE: Word!

> If you act now, we'll also include a short story about Spot,
> the Non-Allowed Dog, written by Leader Kibo himself!
> Operators are sitting by!
                        SPOT, THE OVERLOADED OPERATOR
            a Story-On-Demand(tm) available only to Secret Members.
                          Are you a Secret Member?
                   If not, please POKE YOUR EYES OUT NOW!

                    Copyright (C) 1997 James "Kibo" Parry

Poor Spot! He was strolling down the street as happy as a clam, when he
remembered that he wasn't a clam, he was an operator! He hurried across
town to his job at TechSupporTemps, arriving just as his lunch hour ended.
He sat down in his cubicle and put on his convenient no-hands telephone
headset. (Using the no=hands phone required three paws.) The phone rang.
    "Hello, TechSupporTemps, my name is Spot, how may I help you?"
    "Uh, my Dykstra 686/102XL won't boot. It says 'keyboard failure'. What
should I do?"
    "I don't know."
    "What does 'keyboard failure' mean?"
    "I don't know."
    "The keyboard seems to be plugged in fine. It goes directly into the
wall, right?"
    "I don't know." Spot accidentally hung up on the caller by
simultaneously pushing four buttons located in the four corners of the
room. This job was _hard_! Today he'd had to say "I don't know" over six
thousand times, and his nerves were so frazzled, once he had even
accidentally hung up on a caller before he meant to! Spot decided to take a
lunch break, as it was almost ten.
    Spot went strolling down the street, on his eighth lunch break this
morning. While he was on his way to his favorite eatery,
Finagle-A-Bagel-And-Rotate, he wondered what product he was supposed to be
supporting. Hardware? Software? Underwear? Spot didn't know! "I don't
know," he said to himself. He wondered why he'd said that. "I don't know!"
he said again.
    Poor Spot! He was only able to say "I don't know!" He went to see his
veterinary psychiatrist, Dr. Arf Ulene.
    "Zo, Zpot, what zeems to be the trouble?" asked Dr. Arf.
    "I don't know!"
    "Vell, you must have zum reason for zeeing me. Is everything all right?"
    "I don't know!"
    "Little puppy, vat is your name?"
    "I don't know!"
    "Vell, ven you figure out if you are disturbed, please come back. Until
then, get the hell out of my office!" Dr. Arf pulled a lever which opened a
trapdoor under Spot! Spot slid down a slippery sluiceway, landing in a vat
of rancid nacho cheese with a TV camera pointed at it. Spot was on
"America's Totally Funniest Super Hidden Bloopers And Celebrity Out-Takes
And Shirley"! Spot cried.
    A second assistant director's first assistant, who outranked the first
assistant director's second assistant but not a straight flush, came
running up. "Hey, little puppy, that was great! We want you to be a regular
on this show! All you have to do is read the punchline for Bob Hope's wacky
joke off this card!" He held up a cue card which said:
    The second assistant director's first assistant looked serious. "Well,
little puppy, for a million dollars a week, can you read that punchline
    "I don't know!"
    "Well, can you?"
    "I don't know!"
    "You suck! You're fired!"
    "Waah!" cried Spot, forgetting that he was unable to say anything other
than "I don't know." Spot was so stupid!
    How... stupid... was... he?

                               t h e    e n d

              written 6/25/97, 3:15-3:45am just for Alex Suter

                                             -- K.

                                             [ MASSIVE APPLAUSE ]

From: (James "Kibo" Parry)
Subject:      Re: Spot Story (was: The Dead Email Society)
Newsgroups:   alt.religion.kibology
Organization: welcome datacomp
Date:         Fri, 27 Jun 1997 01:23:24 GMT
X-Battlestar-Galactica-Date: 9581 centons, 71 microns, .04 mugars
X-Kibo-Equipment: a distributed Lego robot (distributed by accident)

"Josh Gorfain" ( wrote:
> ((snipped because I'm jewish and think everything needs to be circumcised))
> and how much do I have to pay to get the wonderful Kibo into my life?

Sorry, I'm already married to television's gorgeous, vivacious Claudia
Christian, who is NOT CIRCUMCISED!

Gotta go, a scary photo of Michael Ironside is chasing me.

                              -- K.
                              How would you circumcise a cube?
                              NOT EVEN EINSTEIN COULD CIRCUMCISE A CUBE!


James "Kibo" Parry
last revised Mar. 12, '98

Web site contents & design: Copyright © 1997, 1998 James "Kibo" Parry, all rights reserved.