Issue #1, 9 October 1995

Greetings, subscribers!  Or shall I say, "exploding farmers"?

Well, whatever you want to be called, you are part of a select group of
people to have the first issue of the new, improved, fat-free, low salt,
recycled milk jug containing, rBGH free Farm Macheenery (exploding) magazine.

And now onto the magazine...

First up, a new product feature...

No, actually, don't you want to know who writes this stuff?  Well, let's
satisfy your curiosity.  This magazine is written by Dr. Pepper and Xavier
Xerxes (not our real names).  It originates from the computers in the labs
at our college (like you really cared about that).

And now the new product feature...

No, no, scratch that.  A brief history of Farm Macheenery...

Farmers started using farm machinery before we were born.  Loooong before.
And it continues to this day, when tractors in the middle of cornfields will
spontaneously combust, given the right circumstances.  For instance, if a
water buffalo tramples the corn, leaving nothing but husks, the corn will
definitely be destroyed and transported to the fourth dimension.

Oh, you want the REAL story, do you?  Well, about seven years ago, we were
bored one afternoon, so we came up with this idea to make a really weird
magazine.  It was appropriately named "Weirdly Magazine".  The name was later
changed to "Duh! Magazine".  That name stayed for years and years and years
and years and years and years...well, you get the idea.  Then we figured
"Hey, this magazine needs a new name."  So we renamed it (again) to "Kazoo
Magazine".  This consisted of three highly experiMENTAL issues which fell
into the hands of a menacing villain who wished to burn them.  However, the
villain suddenly disappeared down a dark drain, never to be heard from again,
and the issues were saved.  I can hear you cheering.  Anyway, after that
horrendous episode, the name was changed to "Farm Macheenery (exploding)
Magazine", a literary quest for the big green thing.

And now, finally, the new product feature...

Okay, so it isn't a new PRODUCT.  It's a new hairstyle.

Want a new haircut that no one else has ever had?  Well, now you can!  It's
called the Buzzsaw Technique.  Take a buzzsaw, tilt it to 180 degrees above
your head, and drop it.  You will want to have an enormous life insurance
policy if you plan to do this.  Have your husband and/or wife present at the
time of your haircut.

WARNING:  Well, what you don't know can't hurt you...I think....

And now it's time for...

*                   *
*   The Wise Sage   *
*                   *

Have a question for the Wise Sage?  Send them to
with the subject "Wise Sage".

And now the questions.

Dear Wise Sage,

Which is the best laxative?

Dear Boundup,

If that's really your name, you need a laxative in a bad way.  I would
reccomend the old stand-by:  bran muffins and prune juice.
Wise Sage


Dear Wise Sage,

Is it true that you locked yourself from the public eye because of a bad
perm?  If so, what kind of perm was it?
Kodak Moment

Dear Kodak Moment,

No comment.
Wise Sage


Dear Wise Sage,

Did you know that without a W and an S, you're an ice age?  Care to comment?

Dear Kinkle,

Obviously, you can't spell.  By the way, if you replace the first K in your
name with a T, know what you get?
Wise Sage


And that concludes our Wise Sage column for this issue.

So now it's time for some poetry.  No, no, don't leave!  This isn't ordinary


Peeing on fire hydrants
Is it a dog?
No, it's you after 50 Dr. Peppers.



"The Cow"

A flower in the garden
The cow in the pasture



"The Cemetery"

The tears fall
from my eyes
as I stare at the cold
slab of cement that
marks your final
resting place...
I recall the times we
spent together...
The hideous pink lawn
ornament screams in




black and mottled
we eye it with distaste
as it slithers out
of the crack
in the wall
it squeaks in anger
as we squash it with
our shoe
It is too late that we
it was the vital banana.




Spittle--Mr. Meow.
He nods in agreement,
but still questions the




The brilliance of the white light
fills the small cubicle...
as an unsuspecting cricket
climbs the slippery surface...
Again, the hideous pink
lawn ornament
screams in agony...




Do not forget
the life you've lived
the things you've
missed because
You spent a year looking
for the TV remote...




The misty blue
of the ripe blueberry
tempts me to
pluck it from the stem...
Mary had a little lamb
whose fleece was white
as snow
e-i, e-i, o.



That concludes this issue's portion of Dumb Poetry in a Card Type Trash.  As
you can plainly see, it has nothing to do with greeting cards.

Well, this has been a blast.  Unfortunately, a huge slug has invaded our
computers and we will no longer be able to bring you "Farm Macheenery
(exploding)".  Well, it was good while it lasted.

Oh, never mind that last comment.  The slug has disappeared down a deep, dark
hole.  Stay tuned for more exploding farm machinery--oops, forgot the name
of our own magazine!  Farm Macheenery (exploding).  Thanks to all of you
demented people who subscribed.  Tell your friends, enemies, and politicians
about FME, and we'll be back next week with issue #2.

Okay, you can go now.

Really, you can.  The magazine is over.

Go on!  You have more important stuff to do!

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