D O T H E B U G O U T
H I G H L A N D E R
1 9 9 8
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Whoo-wee! The veritable joy of summer is upon us (Shyeah, Right!), the
season of happiness, holidays, the sun, sea and surf. Ahh... This is the
life. <Little voice in my head speaks...> Woah. Wake up, dude. You
live in Scotland.
It has been confirmed - by myself - that Scotland has THE crappiest
weather in the entire universe. This summer was not summer (If you know
what I mean), it rained nearly all of the time, drowning, quite
literally, anyones hopes of getting a good suntan. Not to mention that it
is blowing what feels like a force ten gale (Hey, who IS Gale?) outside.
Actually, that's not such a bad thing at this time of the year, when
babes wear short skirts, heh heh!
Ahem. Apologies if yer a girl and you're reading this! ..No, Really.
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Anywayz, wot do you think of my groovy new toon?
There's a bit of a story to this tune, so put down that newspaper, prop
your feet up, and grab a glass of 1976 Chardonnay. It's story time.
(Deep Breath)
"It was a windy night... Thunder crashed outside... I sat in front of
my 'puter. I was meditating to a on-screen fractal (with the ratio of
n+0.5=666 - don't ask), getting attuned to the funkadelic stotoscope
idiom that was, and still is, the groovyverse. I clicked my mouse onto
Impulse Tracker(TM), and put down the tracks for what was to be the
grooviest module ever made by a human being. It all started well, then
tragedy struck. I ran out of funky ideas. The module sat for months on
my hard drive, stuck in a horrendously quiet groovyverse of it's own.
None of the other (Dot)Modules did'nt want to play with it, and as it
grew lonlier. ideas were slowly brewing inside my cranium. After a few
beers one night, I once more loaded the tune up and grooved out to it
until it reached the point which it had stopped - a really grating organ
note looped over the speakers. A pain of funkadelic proportions ripped
through my head. The module had spead it's groovyverse into the
corporeal world. It was speaking to me, instructing me with every
track, beat, and rhythm. Soon, I had finished the whole tune, and it's
groovyverse was complete. And so, I had done the world a great deed by
shaking the foundations of the planet. Soon, everyone was dancin' in the
streets everywhere. The (dot)module sent a psyonik funkapulse to
everyone's brain, causing them to chant "Do the Bug Out". The world had
become a better place. There was no war, no famine, and People
Found out that Elvis (and Jesus) wre, in fact, aliens. The Spice Girls
died horribly in a plan crash which, spookily enough, flew into Ex-Spice
Geri's house, killing her, and her pet french poodle, too. Strange
co-incedence, or divine intervention. You decide...."
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Heh heh! All that CRAP just came out of my head. And for those out
there who might think that thw above "Story" was drug-induced. NOOO!
All of it was streamed from a perfectly (Okay, mabye not!) sane brain.
No artificial stimulants (not including caffiene or watching the
teletubbies) were used on this product.
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E-Mail me, humanz!! craigjames'cableinet.co.uk
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Ciao for now.
