Most nicest poster

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

So this Forum is now depending on fat Arnolds destiny? Let us hope he will come out of this hard experience, more sane and less suicidal, so we will survive. It needs more SPAM, that is for sure.

But if the worst should happen, will you still have faxcontact with me? The soft spot has miraculously moved over to me. Huh! :luv1:

[AAAAAAAAAA]

But if the worst should happen, will you still have faxcontact with me? The soft spot has miraculously moved over to me. Huh! :luv1:

Jaja, "soft spot". It was too soon. Our Arnold was one big soft spot....

Well, anyway, I'm still not sold on that avatar of yours. I can't get over that look in your eyes. Your fucking eyes! But, I will consider your proposition carefully.

Huh!

I tell you, its contagious. HUH!

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

To soon? Life is short my friend and we must seize the opportunity, when it comes flying like an ugly bird, with it's burnt two legs up in the sky. But, but, I am a patient German, so by all means, take your time and may Arnold live and give you your not planned son.

Now I have a sonata to wright, so I must leave you for now, but hope to hear more about how Arnolf handles his life with you. Haha!

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

I can see you play hard to get mr.Baker,

But if, I say if, our Arnolf will go to his taker,

How long have I, a profound Sonata-Maker,

Have to wait, before you can see me, as a NO-Faker,

Like my fucking eyes and be my partaker.


You know I've been hoping for you, my heartbreaker,

And it is no secret, I have been your eternal staker,

Since this Forum was started, if I'm not a mistaker,

So what the fuck can I do, to be your soul-shaker?

Or at least some bakery-caretaker?

[Nurmi]

So tell me! What can i do?

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

Ja ja. We will find some way...

[Arnold Layne]

Arnold's Diary - Day 1

HUH! I wake up in a hospital bed. Very, very, far from Leeds. Questions begin racing through my mind. Where am I? Why am I in such awful pain? Why is my stomach so swollen? Why are aliens allergic to sushi? How efficient are lithium-ion batteries? And when, might I ask, is lunch??

I hear a vasp buzzing around. As he stings my arse, I don't even resist, for it hurts to move. The swelling won't be noticeable, I think. Jaja.

Nothing to do. The ceiling fan goes round and round and round. And speaking of round, what is the DEAL with my belly? I either swallowed a bowling ball (jaja...it wouldn't be the first time). Or maybe I packed on even MORE muscle from all the steak-protein.

Mmm. Steak. Steakhouse. Stockhouse. It sounds so familiar. On the tip of my tongue. My fucking tongue!


Would you suppose my bed-linen is edible? It is made from a plant. I begin to chew.

I feel a sharp kick in my stomach, emanating from the bowling ball. Jaja. Maybe a strike, or a spare.

I am slowly drifting back to sleep...

HUH!

Not so fast. Where is lunch??

Arnold Layne

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

Aber Arnold! You are in Seattle, on Swedish Medical Center, and since I am Insurance-Guarantor for you, I had to talk to your doctor about your stomach-bumb. I think I have the solution to your problem and your doctor agrees.
I have never believed that Stinky. You don't have the same qualifications for a pregnancy, as he had with his hidden uterus, so I think the bumb in your stomach is neither a baby, nor a bowlingball. Nein, nein, it is your unborn TWIN, ARNOLD 2, and that he has decided to come out and see the light now.
He is the explanation to your ravenous appetite and your preference for big steaks. He is a meat-eater, a carnivorous cannibal, and doesn't like vegetables.

The doctors will take him out a.s.a p and reporters from both, Seattle Gay News and the Stranger, will follow the operation, since this is something of a world-sensation, Arnold. You will be on the first page on most of the newspapers and I am so proud of you.

But don't forget to share the fame and all the earnings from this, with your brother Arnold 2. I will think of you Arnold and have faith. You will soon have a little brother...

[eternity_strato]

From now on, Hitler will be referred as Albino Layne.

Albino Layne.

[Arnold Layne]

Arnold's Diary - Day 2

Dear Diary,

Today, I broke the bed. It was just, one of those things. I was lying there innocent as a chipmunk, and it split in two like a uranium atom undergoing fission. I think I read about that in a book, once.

The nurses saw me on the floor and screamed for the baby. What about the baby! Careful for the baby! Now, what do you suppose they mean? Perhaps it is those American rock tunes, where they always call each other baby. I hate Americans. Between you and me, diary, I find them insufferably ugly, jaja.

The bowling ball seems to have grown larger.
As I peer at my belly, I begin to contemplate the philosophical nature of our world. What does it mean to live? What is the meaning of love? And what time is lunch??

Jaja, the nurses have just told me I have received a fax from someone named...what was it? Heinz Steakhouse? I have not read it yet, and don't plan to, for at least a while. I get such a headache when I read. My head begins to spin like a quantized angular momentum of an electron. I heard about that in a movie, I think.

I hear children playing outside. I glance to the left, and glance to the right. Jaja, the coast is clear. I taste one of my boogers. Not bad. Not bad at all.

If I don't get a steak soon, I will break this bed too. Out of spite.

Harumph. I feel an overwhelming compulsion to learn more about particle physics, but I can barely read. I will have to learn.

What time is lunch, anyway?

Arnold Layne

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

Hrm, hrm, Fax from Arnold1.

Arnold's diary-Day 3.


Today was a happy day for little me! The guy next door died and couldn't eat his big Seattlestek. Yumyum! (Huh, what big steaks the Americans eat. I hate America, but I love their steaks).

And, and, then came my benefactor the Muffinbaker. He had been unsuccessful with his owen and brought all the halfburnt onionsmuffins to ME. Yumyum again!!

The doctors are very nice and they will soon take away the Bumb in my stomach. It is still growing and kicking and I so wonder what it can be.

But more wonder! When the heck comes the supper and can I have the dead ones too?

Arnold Layne with a bumb in his stomach.

[Stratowarius]

Mail from Pekka to Strutt!


Hi, here I will tell you something interesting and fun!
A Professor Richard Hoover at NASA, has examined meteorpieces from one of our latrinsausages, they call Comets, and guess what he has found. Hahaha!
Jaja! Just no more, no less, than what it is, but he has nicer name for it, than what we use. "Remnants and remains of living organisms or fossilized very old bacteria". Haha! From dinosaurustimes, or even from the Big Bang, they use, as explanation for everything they don't understand.

Our professor analyzed our shit, in a pretentious scanning-electron-microscope, and found "fossilized remains, not so different from Earth-faeces". Haha again! I say! "Not so different". But he also saw, some organisms "he never had seen before, and that indicates that life is more broadly distributed than restricted, to only Earth". So spoke our professor from NASA!
This guy is also open to other explanations and I wonder if it maybe is time for us, to show our cards soon. I will take up this on my agenda for next excessa-conference and I count on your support, Strutt!

Soon it is Juli 18,19 and 20! Take care out there!

[Nurmi]

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

To-day I will quote a Seattlepaper.


Seattle Times.

By Jim Kuhnfriend.

Yesterday a team of surgeons, at Swedish Memorial, made a sensational discovery, when they operated a very fat man, from Leeds in England. He was treated as a pregnant woman, since Ultrasonography had showed a very big contour of a human body in his abdomen.

The Fatty himself thought he had swallowed a bowl-ball, but the doctors feared he had a bigbig tumour, or as his German friend, the worldfamous composer mr Stockhausen, suggested, "a growing twin".

And the German was right as usual. It was AN UNBORN TWIN! 96 cm, with very strong arms and legs to kick with. He had learnt to speak in there, while listening to the Fatty and the first thing he said was, "Aber, aber, you can't have more beer". So he was accordingly called Aberaber!

Aberaber is a little copy of his brother, Arnold, and the whole medical team was stunned. They will start a complete investigation of both twins and also take care of Fattys steakproblem. He has, by the way, a minor-criminal background as a trouser and pegthief.

Seattle is now centre for big attentions, and TV-companies from all over the world are gathered here. It is almost, as many as, when the Finnish goatfarmer Pekka Nurmi, landed here after his visit on the moon.

And it is a sensation, even with worldmeasures. Think if little Aberaber really can talk. Wow! What will he say?

[Arnold Layne]

Dear Diary,

I cannot believe my fucking eyes. My conjoined twin was surgically removed by some masked maniacs! They call him aber-aber. But, I think I shall call him Charlie instead.

Charlie is a good boy, but sometimes he eats my steaks. One day, I will kill him.

I am still in the hospital, for now.
I am breathing heavily but everything is fine. Lunch is coming..they say...

Arnold Layne

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

Fax from you can never guess WHO.
Yess! From little Aberaber!


Hi there Stocken!

I know that you have heard about me, since I am a medical sensation and I think I owe you my not neverending story.
I have heard you talk, to my brother, through his stomachwall, and I am so grateful for all the steaks and beer, you have sent down to me. I wanted so to come out and meet you and I kicked and kicked but those two idiotic hircins, the muffinbaker and my own brother, were convinced that I was their baby.Pffff

Thanks to you, and your German rationalism, the doctors cut me out and I am now growing very fast. My brother has openly declared that he is going to kill me, so I would be very obliged, if I could come to you. I am nice and don't eat as much as Arnold, and when I have grown enough, you can teach me to sing...
If you will accept me, please send adoptionpaper and a ticket to Mödrath.

Your affectionate Aberaber.

PS.He calls me "Charlie" and I don't know which is worst, that or the death-threat.
DS.

[Arnold Layne]

Dear Diary,

Aber-aber, aka. Charlie, is growing bigger and bigger. He is such a sweetheart with a charming smile, cunning wit, and a voracious appetite (don't believe what he says). I will definitely kill him soon.

I am still waiting for lunch (4 days I am waiting) and I'm beginning to think it isn't coming. The steaks they serve here are so thin, they are practically translucent.

I will be out of the hospital very soon, butt, i'm not sure where I'll go next. Stockhausen is courting aber-aber. There may be room for two men in Karlheinz's heart, but not two men of our size. HUH!

Arnold Layne

[Arnold Layne]

Although I miss the steaks and charcoal grills,
My time in the hospital is not without thrills,
I drink my medicine and swallow my pills,
And I play cards with Charlie, who I will soon kill.

Arnold Layne

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

Aberaber has stolen Arnolds diary, but also some of the hospitals trousers and pegs! Is it genetic?


Arnolds Diary sent to me by Aberaber!

To-day I am depressed. My brother is growing so fast, you can hear his muscles, sinews and bones crack. It is very annoying! He is now almost as fat as I was five days ago. I have lost kilo after kilo, because i never get any food. It is for my own good, say the masked maniacs. They give me some weak proteindrink, four times a day, and it tastes absolutely awful. Beer I am not even allowed to dream about.

Aber, Aberabercharlie chews his steaks in front of me with nasty smiles. He has no restrictions at all. But he has no ID-card or visa, so he must leave US. Haha! But the sneaking invertebrate animal has contacted Stocken and is going to Germany. Damn, fuck, damn, fuck! Why did I tell Stocken about my Thanksgivingadventure, the muffinbaker and the baby?? When it was Aberabercharlie in there all the time. I'm not sure the baker will have me here, now when the passion has cooled down, and there is a question about visa.

So what can I do? Stocken will not have an unfaithful lover back and what is there in life for me now? I better kill Aberabercharlie first and then myself, before I become a thin and bleak Arnoldshadow.
Ten times HUH.

[Arnold Layne]

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

Fax to a (the) Baker in Seattle!


Aber Ach, Bakerbaker. Now is the time to make a difference, and not only stand there, with your hands in the muffindough. Out, out, on the streets and search for our Arnold. I am sure he is on his way to the Zoo. He loves animals and we must remember that he is suicidal and always have dreamt of being eaten by a Siberian tiger. Do you have such animals at Seattle Zoo. I ask since I have heard that you also are a well-known zoologist.

And for Gods sake. Were is Aberaber? Dead? Or?

You have a great responsibility in this tragic event, with your sweet flirtation and many Thanksgivingpromises, to this poor, naiv ung Leedsgay. Shame on you...

[AAAAAAAAAA]

Fax to K. Stockhausen in Kürten, Germany

If you would allow me to be most frank, I think of you as somewhat of a moral degenerate and a crackpot, but its clear we must work together to avert this crisis. Aber doch, stockhausen! (I don't know really what that means)

I have learned of Arnold's mysterious disappearance and rest assured I have been scouring the area for any sign of the Leedsgay (I quite fancy that term!) with the help of Oncle from the ranch.

He was last spotted at a deli near Pike Place Market, attempting to camouflage himself with the fresh fish (while simultaneously eating half of them). I saw him lying on the seafood stand, naked, looking UGLY with his legs stuck up in the air. It was quite a sight to behold!

Arnold spotted us coming and cried "my fucking eyes!" as he blazed off into the distance. Still muttering "Aber, aber, aber". Please see to it that Aber is taken care of- is he with you? I fear for his life as much as I fear for yours. I did not see a knife, but Arnold held a magnificent flounder in his left hand that could deal significant damage.

We have a raging leedsgaylunatic on our hands!! And he smells like fish!

His insatiable thirst for women's clothes must be quenched at all costs and he surely will not have the law on his (massive) side. I will investigate the local malls and clothinglines...

We will close (clothes?) in on Mr. Layne, and let's just see if he can eat his way out of that one. Hah!

[Arnold Layne]

Dear Diary,

Today I find myself a man on the run. HUH!
That is no easy feat for a man of my size, for even a short stroll takes the wind out of me. A10 and Onkel are hot on the trail, but I have eluded them so far by blending in with fresh produce.

I can't wait to see Charlie again- he is a true angel. Yep, no questions about it, I will definitely kill him.

Harumph. I am still in my hospital gown. Why don't these things cover my posterior? The nurse said there is not enough fabric in the universe for that, jajaja. Nevertheless, I draw too much attention to myself.

I am writing this from a restaurant called the Kebab Palace. By golly, if I were ever a king, my throne would be built here...

Hmm. My chair will not smell good after I'm done with it. What I would give for some womens pantaloons! I must think of a plan.

Once I have eaten my fill, I will head to Germany for that is surely where Charlie will have fled. Of course, it may take me several hours. To eat, that is.

Arnold Layne

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

Can this be the Neverending without Sonatica, but with the same shy netlove? :luv1: :luv1:

Aber, doch, you can be how frank you want, Baker! I am a proud German, and I have never been in Kurten, cross my heart!
And you are also wrong about my moraldegeneration. As I just said, I am a German, and we are known to be very morally high-minded.
Crackpot? I am a pot of crack? Jaja.

Well, well! Be as it may. I really don't care what an American muffinbaker, an uglybird-with-burnt-legs-stuffer, a merciless under-bed-seducer-of-both-sexes, thinks about me, a world-famous German composer of Sonatas for sopransaxophon-triangles-and-drums.
Aber, but, since you are the key to poor, suicidal Arnold, alone on a historical Seattle-fish-and-farm-market, where, two Nonames-whales, minus two Nomames-whales = one Arnold, naked and alone, and with no hope of a green card, longing for his German Challe-heinze and with death in his heart, I will try to listen to you.

Sorry! My german feelings took over here!

Be as it may! Again! I have seen American films, so I trust FBI to take care of Arnold untill I can talk to him and convince him not to kill his brother.
There will maybe be problem with two so food-concentrated boys, but I am sure I can handle them in the long run. So find Arnold and send him to me. The Crackpot will find a solution. I am a German after all!

Karlheinz Stockhausen Composer of Sonatas and other things.

[Arnold Layne]

Dear Diary,

Today I find myself at the Kebab Palace. AGAIN!

I will head to Germany soon and hide under Karlheinz's bed, breathing gently. It will not be long before my wonderful brother Charlie will show up. Waiting for the right opportunity, I will slap him to death with a large flounder, and then flee back to Leeds. The original plan was to drive a steak through his heart, but it seems like such a waste, jaja.

Anyway, after aber-charlie is out of the picture, Stockhausen will take me back and heat up the grill of my heart oncemore. :luv1:

But for now, I am still dining at the Kebab Palace. They say it is "all you can eat", and I am not one to back down from a personal challenge. Never!

Arnold Layne

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

Huh! This seems to be a real drama. Today I got a fax from Kebab Palace in Pike Place Market, in Seattle.


Dear mr Stockhausen.

My name is Kebbabbi Rouster, and I am taking the liberty, to write to you, and humbly ask you a big, big favour. We have a dinnerguest here, from England, a mr Layne, that has given us your name as his guardian, and in my desperation I will beg you, to take him out of our hands.

Not only has he scared away our other guests with his "unconventional" clothes. He wears yellow wollen ladytrousers, a tshirt with the text, "Yum our muffy and be fluffy", and a dotted morning-coat from Swedish Medical.
Till that he eats like a grizzly-bear and we had a slogan that has worked for us in many years, "Eat all you can". But, but, enough is not enough for mr Layne, so he has already eaten all food we had stored for the two next weeks. We have to close now!
He has also used most of our chairs and they are all, more or less, separated in parts or crushed. Another agonizing effect have his remnants, that have obstructed all our toilets.

So I have a big prayer, to you mr Stockhausen. Take him away from us, please mister. Have compassion and I will thank you forever.



Kebbabbi Rouster, Seattle.

[Nurmi]

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

And what did mr. Stockhausen answer this wretched man? I will tell you!

Mail to mr K. Rouster, earlier Kebab Palace, Pike Place Market, Seattle.

Dear mr Rouster!

Thank you for the mail and I will without reluctance express my sympathy. I have been at that abyss myself, so I know that you must be "feed up" with that plentiful feeding of the English fatty, his dressing, his breaking of chairs, his clogging of your plumbing, his excessiveness when it comes to big steaks. It is fully known to me and I must declare that I haven't the slightest thought of placing myself in such a relation again. Never dear sire!

And I am NOT some sort of Guardian, to this fellow. We are legally divorced and I must pass this matter to his new love, the in Seattle well known muffinbaker (read his t-shirt. "Yum your Muffy and be Fluffy", Huhhuh) That baker has now taken over, both my pleasures and the steakdeliveries.

I have here taken care of the Fattys twinbrother, Aberaber Layne from Leeds-Seattle and one of those gays are completely enough.

So I am very sorry. But I can NOT help you.

With deep regret...

Composer Karlheinz Stockhausen Mödrat Germany

[AAAAAAAAAA]

To: The honorable artist, composer, and visionary, Mr. Karlheinz Stockhausen of Germany

From: K. Rouster, general manager of the hole in the ground where the Kebab Palace once stood.

"Storm the bastille!!" "STORM THE BASTILLE"!! Those shrill cries from Mr. Arnold Layne still echo in my aching head. He uttered those very words as he charged out of the dining area and into the (EMPLOYEE-ONLY!) kitchen, knocking over chairs, tables, and the occasional child only for the goal of getting a head-start on the incoming Tandoori-Chicken batch before the rest of the clientele.

I told him, Arnold, we do not have salad. Enjoy our offerings, but there is no salad. Would you believe that he took all the decoration of my restaurant- petunias, roses, tulips, sliced and diced them, and consumed them with a light Italian vinaigrette?

My business has been reduced to a rubble. The food is gone, the customers are history, there isn't a loose crumb in the vicinity. And would you believe that Arnold actually ate my precious oil paintings, on account of the fact that, if I may quote, "art is a matter of taste"??

He has declared himself "Vincent Van Hog", a fitting title for someone who has transformed eating like a pig into some kind of sick art form. As we speak, Arnold is sprawled on the floor of the (former) restaurant wearing nothing but a pair of women's yellow wool trousers with polka-dots. He is actually clutching my ankles this very minute, whimpering and crying for his "heinzy-peinzy" and pleading for another serving of steak (with FOUR beers...AGAIN!)

...all while he squirms around expelling all kinds of revolting gases and crying "aber-aber-aber-aber-aber-aber-aber-aber" as if its some kind of neurotic twitch or tic. And claiming, would you believe, that he is still CAN eat more and that he isn't a quitter and won't disgrace the Layne family heritage by giving up now, before he is definitively full.

The man is a menace and a public safety threat. And guess who we can blame for that. Again!

I am writing to inform you that if Arnold is not coaxed out of my restaurant by tomorrow at 3pm, I will take full legal action against you. You are an ENABLER, who brought his appetite for destruction to life and therefore share some "portion" of the responsibility. Capiche?? :pissed3:

K Rouster


Hole in the Ground
Pike Place Market
Seattle

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

HUH! Mail from K- Stockhausen to

Mr. General-hole-manager Kebbabbi Rouster.

I will answer your complains, which I very well unserstand, and I pity your situation with the Fatty. BUTT I have no reason to see the problem as mine. This Arnold is a "fullgrown" man and we surely were married, in some homo-sort-of-way, but it was never for real. An idiot in the Burgermeisters office babbled something over our heads and we held hands, butt, so what? Married? Nono! It was just an homo-show!

Aber in one aspect Arnold functioned like a bitchy wife. He demanded more and bigger steaks from me and litres of beer, and when I said no, he ran to Seattle, where he on some musicsight had found a baker. This baker has a brown orgiebox, where he entertains his "guests", UNDER his bed, together with a bunch of turkeys.

And as so often, in human history, Arnold "got pregnant" and the baker wanted him to make abort. But Arnold looked forward to be a mother and fled to the hospital. There I came in, since those scoundrels first decided to blame me. But, so was Arnold annoyed over my father-happiness and told me the truth, in a nasty poem. Could you blame me for leaving him then? No, of course NOT!

The baby was however his own twin, Aberaber, that he now so hotly wants to kill, and whos life I have saved.

Now you, mr Rouster, interfered and the rest was all your own fault. Your generous slogan "Eat all you can" trigged Arnolds behaviour. So you have to take full responsibility for him and what he has done. I was maybe an enabler, with my love and steaks and I am not ashamed of that. BUT, BUTT, NOW HE IS ALL YOURS. CAPISCE! And so say both my lawyer and I.

Composer Karlheinz Stockhausen, Mödrat, Germany.