So you say you've been searching all your days for a fulfilling, philosophical purpose to life?

Some activity into which you can pour all of your heart-felt emotions and energy?

.. and one that'll get you righteous dates?


The answer is...


That's right, weenie eating! Just send $12.95 (only $12.94 if ou include this ad with your order) to:

Stuffy 'Drunkard' Steffy
13 Alkie Road
Skid Row, Ontario

..and you'll get your own weenie eating kit, which includes:

-your Weenie Eating Handbook;

-a package of 144 weenies;

-a year's supply of alka seltzer and barf bags

-and, a picture of our Queen, the head Lush herself, Stuffy Steffy!

How can you resist? So send your money now, and get on the road to salvation. The road to..


..thank you.

It was a shame, really.
The Cherub, facing outward,
couldn't know that the
garden he guarded was now

And that flaming sword
wouldn't let anyone
near enough to tell him
that his master is dead and
he could go home now.

-Turin Turambar

The Lords of Darkness
Cast unseen arms heavenward
To the raging skies.

The autumn wind siezes my name
Tears it from my lips
And carries it swiftly away
For all the forest to hear.

In it's abscence,
The sound of my footsteps
Echoes around me,
The trees fall mute and still,
The forest listens

As I approach it's heart.

In the center of the Old Forest,
There stands a single willow,
From stinging wind
And biting rain
By the trees that surround it.

Fixed effigy of autumn's sorrow,
Is my final destination.

Here, in my sheltered clearing,
My calm cove
In the midst of the tempest,
I am safe, secure.

The chill wind returns,
The Forest dances once more,
I walk on.


Eighteen dead men sit a dead horse:
The fleeting touch of my gaze
Brings brief life.

Silent soldiers
On their way to war?

Or Atwood's dolls,
Each with a story of it's own
To tell, now discarded,
Left in fixed mockery of motion?

The silence is oppressive.

A word is uttered, falls dead
To the floor.
Drowned out by the clamour
Of silence.

A man stumbles, laughs:
A brief flicker of humanity.
The journey is complete:
Perception lost.


Lost, Lost, Lost.
Tossed by the whitecapped swells
Of your fury.

(The sea has reached up
and grasped me,
overwhelmed me:
It is stronger than I.)

I reach for the hand you offer,
And at my touch,
It ignites.

(Her mouth melts
Into a twisted sneer
As the ash touches
My upturned face.)

In a second,
The water fills my lungs,
Burts them,
And it is over.