We Make Zines

a place for zinesters - writers and readers

die hard 14-die harder with a hard on

well,your not going to believe this story,but its truer than trumans story on trutv.i was kicking back,smoking a joint of american express dope(its priceless)watching zine porn on the zine channel(you probably cant get it where your at.anyfuck,i decided to go out and get a zine.why?because zines are so great.so,i went to zinemageddon,the zine shop right in between the 24hr porn store and the day care center.the guy behind the counter said they didnt have any zines to sell me.i of course went ballistic,and was just about to wreck the whole store,but he gave me this really wierd look and moved his head to the back,twice,like he was fucking lassie or something.so,i punched him in the face and split.well,i went to like 23 different zine stores,and none of them had any zines,including zines r us at the mall and bicycle cat books,plus anarchy expresso and maximum zine planet.well,this blew my fucking mind.so,i went back to the original zine store,to kill him because im bobby madness and nobody treats me like that,unless im fucking them.but when i came back in,he was gone.i looked in the back(after emptying the register)and you wouldnt believe what i seen-a cabal of eastern european terrorists had stolen every single zine in the entire city,and were loading them into carts,presumably to sell to zine starved europe,i guess.i didnt know what to do,so i threw a gallon of gas with a lit m-80 in it,blowing the shit out the place.one of the burned up terrorists tried to shoot me,but i stabbed him in the face with a rapidiograph.they had already loaded a bunch of them in there,but i stole thier detonators.so now hans gruber was all chasing me around portland,trying to kill me.every time he shot at me though i ducked,and the bullets safely hit innocent bystanders.i had a walky talky though,and amazingly enough,a zine artist who was one day from retirement was talking me through the whole experience.so,i hacked,killed and maimed every last one of them,while i taunted hans and made fun of his accent.why?because i care about what happens in zines.thats why 11 cents of every 500 dollars i make on zines i give to the legalize dope movement that eddie runs out of his van on 82nd.and i dont care how many people get killed-zines will be read,not just by assholes like you but everybody-smart people,fat people,gay,straight,bi,and people who have sex with farm animals.and if the squares cant hack it,they can stay out of my methlab.i might be on fire,broken glass on my feet,shot up by terrorists,or just drunk,but i vow this-nobodys gonna stop me or anyone else from making our shitty stupid zines that nobody reads.unfortunately,that guy on the other end of the walky talky died,but you probably dont care about that,or me.still though,it shows my pure devotion to this great amazing scene that is oh so special,and just so neato-kabido that we all deserve a big ol' hug.i hate you.peace.

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