Page 33 - the NOISE November 2012

Dear The Noise:
Wow, so [insert name] won the election? Well, we’re going to [circle one: hell in a handbasket / achieve great prosperity]. Since [insert name] won, our taxes are likely to [circle one: plummet / skyrocket] which is the [circle one: best / worst] thing that could possibly happen. I am so [circle one: happy / sad] that I just want to [circle one: plant a tree and sing Kumbaya / go crazy and destroy something beautiful]. That said, his foreign relation skills are [circle one: well educated and a credit to human so- ciological evolution / deplorable and will get us all killed with fire].
As usual, The Noise’s political coverage has [circle one: bored me to tears / interested me in the process] and I would like to [circle one: burn you all in effigy / send lots of cash]. I truly felt, after having read the many and varied opinions and news articles in your pages, that [circle one: I was about as informed as a salivating, mentally disabled monkey / I could be an informed voter confident in my choices]. [Circle one: F*&^ you, Noise! / Thank you, Noise!]
Dear Nose:
NOVEMBER TWENTY-TWELVE
CAPRICORN: Now that the latest tragic chapter in the human epoch has commenced, you really have nothing to live for. All your whoop-dee-do ideas about love and peace have done nothing – big money wins again. De- vote yourself to something tangibly useful.
AQUARIUS: Too many hours of online games; not enough time pissing off your community, which is your REAL passion. Here’s how you can be most effective: ex- press your ideas the way you normally do. It’s just aggra- vating enough to drive even the happiest to tears.
PISCES: Dunk your head once in every public toilet you can find, every day from the 1st through the 30th of this month. Then sit back and smile; you’re the only person to ever do this.
ARIES: Your penchant for small dogs, the occasional cat, vintage cameras, bearded stoic men, and bungalows is all fine and whatnot, but there is one thing this month that rises superior to all of these passions – you WILL see to it that Zsa Zsa Gabor doesn’t survive the autumn.
TAURUS: You realize that, if you improve your Patrick Stewart impression, people at parties will not just feign interest in you – they’ll actually BE interested in you. It won’t last, so make sure you enjoy it for the few fleeting moments it lasts.
GEMINI: Damn the earth’s crust – you fall right through it and plunge into a river of molten lava. In the brief and completely agonizing seconds before you are vaporized by the sheer heat, you have a vision of how humanity can live in peace and harmony. Damn, should’ve brought a pen and paper.
CANCER: Money can’t buy you happiness, but it does keep your room full of people if you have enough of it. And really, that’s probably good enough.
LEO: Heather Graham, who is absolutely and complete- ly turned on by the fact that you are a registered voter, shows up at your door one morning ready to have her way with you, regardless of your sex. You’ll sleep through the frantic door knocking and doorbell ringing. She never returns. Never. That must suck for you.
VIRGO: You die at some point this month. Could be pain- ful, could be slow. Most likely both. And nothing you do can save you; no quicksand Jesus prayers will help. It’s over, deal with it.
LIBRA: The gorillas from last month are done with your typewriters; now they take you back to the jungle, where they pelt you with rotten fruit endlessly. If you try to es- cape, the alpha male smacks you down and drags you back, where they prop you up once more and wait for you to awaken. When you do, the pelting continues.
SCORPIO: Don’t you just hate it when an errant baseball hits you in the head and kills you? Well, you hate the thought of it, anyway – because when it happens to you tomorrow, you don’t have time to form an opinion based on experience. You just die.
SAGITTARIUS: Kitty killed you last month, so there’s nothing to predict anymore.
OPHIUCHUS: You know what it’s like to get a pineapple up the wazoo? Time to find out. And in spades, brother. In spades.
John Q. Voter
If you see a faded sign at the side of the road, it says 15 miles to the Love Shack. It’s a little old place where we can get together. You know, take some candid snaps.
CANDID photography, eh? Nudge nudge, wink wink. Saying no more,
Terrance Piddlesticks
DearTheTimes:
I recently purchased your 27-CD set, “Andy Williams sings the hits of Cannibal Corpse” and I really can’t un- derstand something ... I mean, Andy Williams is a national treasure – or was, before he dropped dead, and I just can’t wrap my brain around his agreeing to work on this proj- ect. When I think Andy Williams, I think “Days of Wine and Roses,” not “A Skull Full of Maggots” or “The Undead Will Feast.”
Admittedly, he does a wonderful job on “Meat Hook Sodomy” – it invokes memories of my childhood in Iowa – but everything else on this CD just doesn’t sit well with me. I am asking for a full refund. I will send the CD back
as soon as I’ve ripped the tracks into iTunes.
Thanks,
HermanTravesty
Dear Human: Unfortunately, we do not offer refunds, because the cash has already been spent on weed for the publisher and whiskey and broads for the editors, and all kinds of cool gadgets. You are welcome to take the CD and shove it up your ass. Thanks for listening, and don’t forget to donate money to us for the holidays
– our kids aren’t going to buy their own presents!
Dear Noise News Magazine and Arts
Magazine and Storm Door Company:
I am so upset about whatever is happening in the Verde Valley. I wish something could fix whatever’s wrong. And Flagstaff! Look at that place! Something is wrong there too. Where is some sort of god when you need it?
Concernedly,
Bette Sue Bippityboo
[Adverb],
thenoise.us • the NOISE arts & news
• NOVEMBER 2012 • 33