;

(Intro)

I have to say the musician that gets me through everyday life. That hits all my moods. That has that all
around life sound track that I need. Good for all occasions. Cooking dinner. Working in the yard.

Painting. Smacking that ass. Partying indoors and outdoors. Flying a kite in the park is
(Some more Bullshit)

Iwant to say Motorhead. I really do. Iwant to say The Ramones or Black Sabbath. I want to say The Rolling Stones or Jimi Hendrix. Very close to saying Led Zeppelin. The Boss? Damn close. Hank Williams Sr.? Nope. I mean those bands definitely have their place in my life, but not for ever occasion, (see
above)

(More B.S.)

So I'll just tell ya now with a straight face. Elvis Presley is the shit.
(Thank God. Shut up) That's it. That's all I have to say.
Piss off and welcome to NIELZINE #101

Enjoy.

Karma is the real deal.

I think starting at the age of thirteen you should start taking a "Common Sense Test". A mandatory

"Common Sense Test". Ever year until the day you die. Simple questions regarding life. "What does poverty mean to you?" "Is killing another human O.K.?" "Is homosexuality real?" "Is there any human
on this planet that is less than you?"
Not sure who would grade them.

(Have I run out of space yet?)

This is the longest page ever.

The End -Just some Dude, Nielzine

CflEKTO

WDWf

<* pASNfflfe VRB-Ql(\-

LAUNDRY NIGHT BY ANDY COVERT It's Friday night and I should be out doing something. Watching a band. Going on a date. Getting drunk in a bar. Something like that. But, I'm not. I'm sitting in this laundromat with two weeks worth of dirty laundry. I hate doin' laundry. I only do it when I have completely run out of clothes, so I am sitting here in an old pair of shorts that are literally about to disintegrate and a Sublime t-shirt that has a big ketchup stain and at least 15 holes in it. I have brought a Rolling Stone magazine to read and I have a six-pack that I just bought from the liquor store down the street. I'm the only one in the laundromat, so I don't think anyone will mind if I down a few while getting my clothes clean. I am well into my third bottle of Racer 5 and I am reading about Louis C.K. when I sense someone coming through the door. I look up and see a woman probably about my age with a basket of clothes under her arm. She sees me and gives a little smile. I smile and go back to my magazine. But, now I can't read. I only caught a quick glimpse of her, but she looked sort of cute. I look up again very quickly, hoping she doesn't catch me. She has a nerdy, alternative look going on. You know the look I'm talking about. She's got glasses, but also piercings and tattoos. Kinda like a librarian gone bad. I like that look. Smart and sexy. I'm now totally staring at her as she separates her lights and darks. I reluctantly return my gaze back to my magazine but after a few seconds I glance her way again and catch her just as she holds up a pair of very sexy panties. I go back to pretending to read, but in my head I'm trying to come up with something

funny or clever or cool to say. After several minutes, I realize that I got nothing. I mean, we're both in a laundromat at 11:45 on a Friday night. What the fuck do you say? "So, I take it you have no life either, eh?" Probably not the best way to start
a conversation. So, I just sit there.

Suddenly, a homeless guy bursts through the door with a crazy look in his eyes. He is waving his arms around wildly. This could be trouble. "Call the cops!" he slurs.
Alternative librarian chick looks startled.

"What?" I say.

"There's a dead body in the bushes across the street! You gotta call the cops!"
Alterna-librarian backs up and clearly seems afraid.

"Dude, you're drunk! Stop scaring people and go sleep it off!" I yell. He lunges forward and knocks over a chair which has a few newspapers and an

issue of some black and white zine sitting on it. They fall to the floor. The sexy girl jumps back even further. She's practically right next to me. I stand up. "Listen, asshole! You better get out of here right now! You're scaring people with
yourfuckin' hallucinations!" I yell in my most threatening voice.
Homeless guy stops and looks at me.

"But...but..." he doesn't finish his sentence. He just turns and walks out.

I feel like a bad ass. A tough guy. A hero. I smile reasurringly at Ms. Sexy Panties.
"Do you really think there is a dead body across the street?" she asks.

"No, that guy is so hammered he doesn't know what he's talking about," I say.

"That was really weird."

I want to say something else, but I don't know what. A long period of silence goes

by and then my brain comes up with something. Ask her what her name is, idiot. "Hey, what's your name?" Isay. I am actually surprised Isay it out loud. It is
almost like my mouth is moving on it's own.
"Jane," she says with a smile.

"I like the name Jane," I say. "There are lots of songs about girls named Jane." "Oh, yeah. Which songs?" she asks. "Well, you ever heard of Sweet Jane by The Velvet Underground?" She nods. "How about Jane Says by Jane's Addiction? Janie Jones by The Clash? Jane Of

The Waking Universe by Guided By Voices? Janie's Got A Gun by Aerosmith?

Understanding Jane by Icicle Works? The Ballad Of Jayne by L.A. Guns?" I should really stop now, but my mouth isn't listening to my brain. So, I continue. "Jefferson Starship, EPMD, Barenaked Ladies and Elf Power all have songs called
Jane."

I am aware that I'm rambling, but I just can't seem to stop. Jane is staring at me with a look that is rapidly changing from amusement to serious concern. And, even though I know I'm totally blowing it, I keep going. "Then there's Baby Jane by Rod Stewart and Lady Jane by The Rolling Stones."
I notice Jane has a worried look on her face and is actually backing away from me

a little. Finally, I shut the fuck up. And an incredibly awkward silence falls over the laundromat. I actually wish that the drunk homeless guy would come back in.
"You seem to know a lot about music," Jane finally says with an uneasy laugh.

Slowly, both of us become aware of some sort of activity outside. We both go

over to the front of the laundromat and across the street are several cop cars. The

cops are questioning the homeless guy and, although it is hard to make out, there appears to be something in the bushes that looks like a body. "Oh my god," says Jane softly. "I think that guy was telling the truth." She looks at me with anger and disgust in her eyes. "And you told him to get the fuck out of
here."

I feel like a complete asshole. I wonder if the cops will come over and ask us a bunch of questions. I'm not hanging around for that. I walk back over to my laundry. Jane is still staring out the window at the crime scene. My dryer finishes and I lunge for it. My clothes are still damp, but I grab them and quickly toss them in my basket. I throw my remaining beers and my magazine on top and head out the back door of the laundromat. I hate doin' laundry.

WWMvstf* CH&/*e WffiK 3ST

KETCHUP ON MY EGGS, and I'M THINKING OF YOU

Ketchup on my eggs and I'm thinking of you

Refills of coffee come to far and to few

Don't smooth around enough to get a rear end view Really make me choke when I'm trying to chew
WAITRESSLET ME TAKE YOU AWAY FROM THIS *

WAITRESSYOU DON't HAVE TO CLEAN UP MY MESS WAITRESSYOU DON't HAVE TO WEAR THAT FONK-A DRESS
WAITRESSLET ME TAKE YOU AWAY FROM THIS

Wipe off that table and show me some legs Goes down good with me stake and eggs Tag along with me Baby, I'll even beg

Cruise in our bus we'll drink off our travel keg

WAITRESSLET ME TAKE YOU AWAY FROM THIS

WAITRESSYOU DON't HAVE TO WEAR THAT FONK-A DRESS

WAITRESSI CAN SEE THAT YOU ARE IMPRESSED

WAITRESSLET ME TAKE YOU AWAY FROM THIS

I really like to watch her when shes on the move

her hips don't from side to side they just smooth Like a scratched record I'd get stuck in her grove
If I get to roudy just have me removed
WAITRESSLET ME TAKE YOU AWAY FROM THIS WAITRESSI CAN SEE THAT YOU ARE IMPRESSED WAITRESSYOU ARE A VISION OF LOVLINESS WAITRESSLET ME TAKE YOU AWAY FROM THIS

C^ ^

I ain't swave, but I see you like my charm So drop those dirty dishes, take a hold of my arm I'm just out for your love, I won't do any harm
If you feel my hands around you don't be alarmed
WAITRESSLET ME TAKE YOU AWAY FROM THIS WAITRESSYOUR A VISION OF LOVLINESS WAITRESSHOW ABOUT A LITTLE KISS WAITRESSLET ME TAKE YOU AWAY FROM THIS

"KETCHUP ON MY EGGS, and I'M THINKING OF YOU"

Composed byrM^ffiB "Beaver" Hensley

L0oD/\iT6AlttC* &F4c&a3fcL

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Well send that shit in. I'm not gonna be alive forever.

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