Recieved: 2000/06/16 19:28
Subject: [K-list] MEPF and Whitney Houston-or-El Diablo Strikes Again!
From: Paul Perner
On 2000/06/16 19:28, Paul Perner posted thus to the K-list:
In seamless, classic form,
> Bury a red M&M in a graveyard on a full moon (tonight would be good). There
> is no known demon exorcising value to this method, but if your demon is dumb,
> it won't know that and may leave out of bewilderment.
I tried this once and yes the demon left, but not because he was dumb, no, he
thought I was so weird that I wasn't even worth possessing. The last I heard he
jumped inside a singer in touring rock band. Unlike hanging out with me, he gets
to see the country and least he gets laid every so often.
> Staple a dead raccoon to your hat and wear it day and night. If the stench
> doesn't drive off the demon, at least it will drive off everyone else, thus
> protecting them from it.
This was the first one I tried, but after my friends were driven off I had a
whole new set of loyal companions: flies.
> Propose marriage to the demon on the condition that it promises to always
> take out the garbage, clean the toilets, and correctly compute, fill out and
> submit all your tax forms. If it declines, sing to it often in a loud,
> warbling, Whitney Houston impersonation: "And I-I-I-aye-aye will always love
> you-ew-ew-ew-ooooooooo!" (Unless it is a needy type, this should get rid of
> it pronto!)
I popped the question to the third negative entity and she gave me a flat-out
"No!" So I sang her the Whitney Houston song and she ran off to join the thing
inside the head of that rock singer. They fell in love and through the mystical
alchemic union of the ku bala la la gave birth to a legion of even worse
entities: little sylphs that attach themselves to the brains of unsuspecting
musicians inspiring them to write incredibly annoying pop songs.
> If none of this solves the problem, try hanging out only with people you
> don't like. Then, if the demon gives them headaches, at least you can feel
> some satisfaction.
> El, purveyor of really bad advice
You're not kidding. That's the first and last time I'll ever take a tip from you,
El! Why? Because my former demonic house guests got together and designed a
special sylph that they sent out on the ether just for me. Now every time I try
to meditate, the first thing I hear, in a voice that sounds like a growling,
possessed Linda Bliar is: "And I-I-I-aye-aye-will always love
...darn. Sometimes you just can't win.
It's Friday night...
Let's rock 'n roll!
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