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Zines and movies are all I got

There's nothing going on in my life. I barely have a life. Zines and movies are the only interesting things that happened today, so zines and movies are all you get, dear diary.

Dishwasher #11 came in the mail, and I read it front to back. Great zine, always. Dishwasher Pete is the man who writes it and lives it, and it's all about the sacred art of washing dishes, from seventh grade, when Pete first heard the suds calling, through his recent stints washing dishes in Montana, Ohio, and Alaska. His goal is to wash dishes in all fifty states. If you haven't read Dishwasher, you want to. It's only a dollar per issue, way cool and way underpriced, from DISHWASHER PETE, ██████ ARCATA CA 95521.

Full Cup is Neil Schmidt's comic zine about caffeine addiction. He draws pretty pictures, tells twisted tales, and there's always funny stuff happening in the background. It's funny ha-ha and funny peculiar at the same time, and I immediately sent more cash for more issues. It's $2 for a sample, to NEIL SCHMIDT, ██████████████ MILWAUKEE WI 53202.

Then I ate a couple of sandwiches and BARTed to a Jackie Chan high-kicking Hong Kong double feature at the U.C.

Heart of the Dragon is atypical, at least among the seven or eight Chan films I've seen. It's a straight drama, with no kung fu until the final few minutes. I came for the action, but when no kicks were forthcoming I settled back to watch a Dominick and Eugene-style story, with director Samo Hung as Chan's retarded big brother. It was quite good, just not what I expected.

City Hunter, though, has all the wisecracking, high-flying, life-saving heroics you could want, in a ridiculous story where Chan is battling terrorists on a Love Boat. This one is top-level chop socky, right up there with Chan's Drunken Master or Super Cop, and it's laugh out-loud funny, too.

There was, however, one moment that made the crowd groan, when Chan's character uttered a throwaway joke about AIDS. I am not politically correct — you can tell dirty jokes, racial jokes, Helen Keller jokes, and if it's funny I'll laugh and repeat it at the office tomorrow. All I ask is, it's gotta be funny.

The problem is, there’s just nothing funny about AIDS. Hypothetically, I’ll laugh if someone cracks a hilarious AIDS joke, but I don’t think there are any. Or rape jokes, either.

♦ ♦ ♦

Whoops, I guess something beyond zines and movies happened today, after all.

So I came home from the movies, and wrote the above, and got myself a snack, and stripped naked and made myself comfortable in bed, and that's when there came a knock on the door. It was the mumbling man from down the hall, and he'd locked himself out of his room.

I've had a copy of his key nailed to my wall for a week, and tonight’s the first time he's needed it. I told him to wait while I put on pants, and then we walked to his door, and I turned the key to let him in. He didn't say thanks, or maybe he did. He mumbles a lot so it’s hard to tell.

From Pathetic Life #2
Thursday, July 28, 1994

This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.

 

Addendum, 2021: The addresses for those zines are from 27 years ago, so you can't send for a copy of Dishwasher or Full Cup. Last I heard, Pete is living in Europe, and I Googled around but can't find anything for where Neil might be or whether he's still alive. If you're intrigued by zines, though, pop over to r/Zines.

 

PATHETIC LIFE 

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