------------------------------------ Note 8 oven cleaner *** A Story by Dr. Graper *** 6/13/80 12:49 pm b williams / udperuse / unidel Dear Ben(sy Wensy): Hey! How you doing, good buddy? Hey, we haven't talked in a shitload of time, huh? Hey! You know what happened today? I go back to my old apartment house to give back the keys and get my deposit money and you know what happens? They say, they're gonna fine me $30 dollars for not having the damn oven cleaned!! Can you beat that? Christ, and by now that Tripp bastard is winging his way to Minnesota, glass of $200 per bottle champagne in one hand and the right tit of an Eastern Airline stewardess in the other, laughing his balls off 'cause he knows I'm___ gonna have to clean that fucker out now, yeah, me spraying Mr. Oven-Clean all over the thing, fucking up my hands and ripping lesions in my lungs. Bastard. Oh well, such is life, I guess. I mean, some of us have to take those boring CDC jobs while some of us have to keep the intellectual climate alive (like me) and clean out ovens. Hell, I've cleaned out jammed toilets with my bare hands in my day. ---------------------------------------- Response 1 of 6 *** A Story by Dr. Graper *** 6/13/80 12:49 pm b williams / udperuse / unidel But Hey! How are things? I'm feeling real good, having just bought a can of this stuff. . .uh, wait a minute. . .it's called "Mr. Muscle" Stove Cleaner. Yeah. I was gonna clean the oven today but then I though, hell, why? I mean, the only way to get into one of these things is, well, let's put it this way, when you're going to do a job, you do it right. Got that? Well, first thing you need is a bottle of Gallo, not one of those stupid little shit bottles but one of the big motherfuckers, you know, the ones that you can use for fishbowls if you knock off the stem (after drinking out the contents, since those stupid fish die if you plop them right into the wine). Well, I went down to the store. . .alright, let's get this story straight. First, I went to the store pissed as hell at having to clean the oven, knowing Tripp was at that moment ripping towards Minnesota in that goddamn expensive airline, getting wasted on those little bottles of liquor they always have on the planes (I've heard) and I went I and bought the first oven ---------------------------------------- Response 2 of 6 *** A Story by Dr. Graper *** 6/13/80 12:50 pm b williams / udperuse / unidel cleaner I saw. Well, I get that, then stop off at the liquor store for some mental supports and then head on back to the apartment. Well, I get to the apartment and chug down one of those Australian Straight-from-the-outback Bonzo-Beers that I bought then read the Oven cleanser label. And it says "Pre-heat oven to 475o." Jesus Fuck, man, like the gas was turned off three days ago!! I got pissed. Things were going bad, understand? How many notes is this now? I forget. Hey, let's get back to the story. Well, then the maintenance man of the entire apartment complex comes in and he says, "Having trouble man?" Having trouble. Oh!! Wait!! There's another thing. The man at the central office said that he was going to fine me $30 all- together, but the oven was only a $25 offense. You see, my other roomate (a real____ dork, quite unlike our buddy Dan Tripp) had told me that he had cleaned the few remaining ---------------------------------------- Response 3 of 6 *** A Story by Dr. Graper *** 6/13/80 12:51 pm b williams / udperuse / unidel said he had cleaned up the few remaining things in the apartment and like he had forgotten altogether to clean up the Elvis Presley Shrine I had in my room. You know, my shrine to the King where I could burn incense under his smiling image (I even had a autographed picture of him and a postcard of his birthplace tacked up on the wall). Oh well, this shrine (which the landlord called "garbage") was what was the additional $5 fine. Well, I had taken that down and all. Well, the maintenance man came in. And he asked if there was any trouble. There was trouble. Things were fucked up. The oven cleaner was not "O.K." Shit. He said that was too bad. I offered him a drink and he said, "Gotta close all the rooms." Great. I drank half the bottle of Gallo and sat looking at the dirty oven. Fuck. I'd have to clean it tomorrow. Then I left the apartment. Locked the door. Got on my bike. And fell down the stairs. BAM BLAM BAM BAM ouch. Fuck. ---------------------------------------- Response 4 of 6 6/13/80 4:07 pm gellens / udcc / unidel I understand that there is a service which sandblasts troublesome ovens quite reasonably. ---------------------------------------- Response 5 of 6 6/16/80 10:25 am houghton / udperuse / unidel Pineapple style grenades go for about $3.49 on the open market if you can find one... ---------------------------------------- Response 6 of 6 9/29/80 11:58 pm ozer / newauth I heard that if you piss on an oven after getting fucked up that your piss is so acidic that it eats through anythin . yeah it ll burn a hole through the toughest cleanest and most well lubricated latex there is. yeah this piss is harsh stuff, i mean if you drink it it will corrode through your duodenum and come out your navel, not a pretty sight but you know how it is. Just a word of advice to Dr. G.