• TO: Club Snail <clubsnail@egroups.com>
• FROM: Joe Middleton <glibdish@hevanet.com
• SUBJECT: PAUL IS DEAD
• This is a photo of Paul Looserelle after falling from the fire escape, giggle giggle.  He slipped on some Vaseline that was left there, giggle giggle.  I am so funny, everything I say is so funny, even though this isn’t Paul really I can say it because it is so funny, funny, funny and no one will get hurt from what I say, giggle giggle,

And he says "So is my gavel at the society meetings where I am president, but that doesn't stop me from having a good time with it."

Submitted by Marcus Heinrich/Bastardized by Joe Middleton
 

While Dominic the owner wasn't there but this little girl with white, white skin and ample flesh kept following me around the store.  At first I though it was my manly presence, but later discovered that I was the only other human in the shop and she was just bored.  Well she tried to be the fish expert informing me all about Bettas and such while I just smiled trying not to get caught staring at her tits.  After she got done talking about double finned Bettas and how hard it is to find them; I cleverly broke my silence and informed her how she should make it down the coast for the big auction in October.

With this knowledge her nipples hardened with interest and she asked me if I ever car pooled and if she could have my number.  I consented and wrote my name and  number down on the card she handed me.  At this time the bitch said her boyfriend might want to come.  Being ready for rejection at any moment I rebounded with “And what does your boyfriend breed?”  To which she replied nothing.  I bet nothing: the fucking cunt’s just teasing horny old men with her young flaxen skin and meaty bouncy boobies.

Oh, if love was only blind, deaf and dumb I’d have it made.

Dear Mr. Vomit Silo,
 

I would like to know if the Whipping post is still active.  If it is I would like to place as an ad for whores. We need them up here in the Yukon.  We are very lonely men and the horses and other animals are starting to look pretty good.  Nothing against horses, those dudes down in Texas must know something for they ride them all the time if you know what I mean.  We need some help up here.  They sent 20 miners to work and they are gonna have 10 couples if something doesn't happen soon. I hear you have a group called BITCH. Tell them we'll pay for they trip if they will pay us a visit.
 

Thank you,
Willie "The Shaft" Wilkerson
 

With the release of Livebearing Trumpet No. 43, “Covered n’ Chunked,” I took my personal account of attending the 1998 American Cichlid Association convention in St. Louis and blended in a riotous monologue and a swarm of fictional events to create what may now be seen as a depictuous yarn of a less-than-typical tropical fish convention.

What I did not do, however, is use the names of persons and events that involved said persons with the permission of those involved.  Very few of them knew I was writing an article on the event, but none knew of the kind of outrageous position I was going to take while writing the issue.

It is through this careless description of events that may or may not have taken place that I have blatantly embarrassed and estranged not only one of the biggest supporters of Club Snail but also hurt a personal friendship founded through a common interest.

I hereby retract all statements made about you, Pam – and promise to be considerate of your feelings from now on.

Sincerely,
 

Joe Middleton
 

July 28, 1999

American Cichlid Association
15513 Mallory Court
Moorpark, CA  93021

Attention:  Tim Hovanec, ACA Treasurer

Dear Tim:

Please find enclosed a check for $580.00.  This money was raised by the "Babes In The Cichlid Hobby" for the Guy D. Jordan Endowment Fund.   We are so excited about being able to donate to such a worthy cause.  I have attached a copy of our "Press Release", we want to toot our horn!  I will send a copy to Rusty and David.

Should you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call.

Cichlid Power!
 

Pam Chin, BITCH Reporter
7230 High Hill Dr.
Sloughhouse, CA  95683

cc: Rusty Wessel
 David Herlong

Enclosure
 

The "Babes In The Cichlid Hobby" may sound like a lucky-go-happy group of gals who like to flirt and party.  However, these women are all serious Cichlid hobbyists.  It is not a club or a Study Group, it is a cadre of women who are concerned about the direction the hobby is headed.  Since their inception, (San Antonio - ACA-94) they have wanted to be a contributor to the Guy  D. Jordan Endowment Fund. 

ACA 1999 marks their 5th Anniversary. To celebrate, Pam Marsh, President, designed a commemorative T-Shirt to be sold in Detroit.  The shirt displays a Gymnogeophagus balzani, (Wayne Leibel's favorite fish!) along with their slogan; "Excellence through Experience."  It was a winner, and the limited edition T-shirt sold out by Friday evening, with all the proceeds going to the Guy D. Jordan Endowment Fund.

It was so well received that they are considering another printing.  This years contribution to date is $580, which brings the total to over $1,700 raised in the last 3 years. 

You may chuckle when these gals are plotting to pull a practical joke, or publicly acknowledge male members, but remember they are a serious force in the ACA. "Babes In The Cichlid Hobby" plan on continuing to help raise funds for such a worthy cause.  They are sure that Guy, himself, would approve of their antics, after all, he was one of the first Cichlidiots!
 

• I'll swallow all of this aquarium water ... I love the taste.
• Are you sure you've had enough to drink?  That fish tank water contains lots of bacteria, and hence the need for more sterilization.
• I signed up for aquarium maintenance so that I can get to learn how to clean all your aquariums for you.
• Shouldn't you be down at the fish store with your buddies?
• That was great fun shooting me with that turkey baster filled with Daphnia!  Do another one!
• I've decided to stop wearing clothes around the fishroom, because it is so hot down there.
• You're so sexy when you're holding that siphon.
• I'd rather watch fish collecting slide programs and drink beer with you than go shopping.
• Let's subscribe to Freshwater and Marine Aquarium.
• Would you like to watch me take the plecostomus down on my girlfriend?
• Say, let's go down to the mall so you can check out women's asses at the PetSmart.
• I'll be out painting the backs of the aquariums.
• I love it when you go to fish auctions on Sundays, I just wish you had time to go on Saturday too.
• Honey... our new neighbors’ daughter is nude sunbathing underneath the Tritons and/or actinic bulbs again.  Come see!
• I know it's a lot tighter back there.  But would you please try inserting that big, throbbing Ebo-Jager again?
• No, No, I'LL to have the filters changed.
• Your mother’s koi pond is way better than mine.
• Do me a favor, forget the stupid Valentine's Day thing and buy  yourself new aquariums.
• I understand fully...... our anniversary comes every year for Christ's sake.  You go shop-hopping with the guys, it's a wonderful stress reliever.
• Oh come on, what do ya say we get a good agenda, a case of beer, a few appetizers, and have my friend the aquarium society secretary of mixed descent who likes men with facial hair over for a fish club board meeting!
• Christ, not the fucking mall again.  Come on, let's go to that new fish wholesaler!
• Listen, I make enough money for the both of us.  Why don't you retire and get that new fishroom of yours up and running!
• You need your sleep ya big silly, now stop getting up so early to feed the baby brine shrimp to the fish!
• God..... If I don't get to drain your tanks soon, I swear I'm gonna burst!

Date: Tuesday, August 10, 1999 18:57:43

From: Gary L. Wagner
To: club_snail@egroups.com
Subject:  For our Texans....
 

Once there was a midget in Texas who complained to his buddy that his balls ached all the time.  As he was always talking about his aching balls, his friend suggested that he go to the doctor and see what he could do to relieve the problem.

The midget took his advice and went to the doctor and told him what the problem was.  The doctor told him to drop his pants and he would have a look.  The midget dropped his pants and the doctor put him up onto the examining table and proceeded to look for the trouble.   The doctor put one finger under his left ball and told the midget to cough, which he did.

"Ah!  Ah! Mumbled the doctor and putting his finger  under the right one asked him to cough again, which he did.   Ah! Ah! Said the doctor and reached for his surgical scissors.  Snip, snip, snip on the right side and then snip, snip, snip on the left side. He told the midget to pull up his pants and see if it still ached.

The midget was delighted as he walked around the doctor's office and his balls were not aching!

"What did you do Doc?" he asked.

The doctor replied "I cut two inches  off the top of your cowboy boots."
 

With the release of Livebearing Trumpet No. 43, “Covered n’ Chunked,” I made some sharp-tongued comments about one of the West Coast’s most dedicated hobbyists, David Fleming.

In short, what I said was insufferably shallow and mean-spirited:  a barrage of unearned insults that I hereby regret.  In the past six months I have come to respect him as not only an accomplished aquarist but also as a friendly, helpful soul who dedicates much of his free time to helping the local aquarium scene thrive.  His quiet and occasionally witty persona are a far contrast to the description I used in the Livebearing Trumpet.

I hereby wish to retract all comments made about David Fleming in the said issue.  Dave – I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings in some ill-conceived effort to create some sort of inexcusable diatribe that did no good for no one.

Sincerely,
 

Joe Middleton
 

In less than two months, the local aquarium club will be having its big show.  You must have heard about it by now, yes?

This is the big annual show that costs the club over two grand to produce.  You must have heard about it by now.  Our Publicity committee is doing a great job spreading the word.  I think I saw something under the title “board meeting minutes” mentioning it in the most recent newsletter (Ed. note: why is this paragraph italicized for no apparent reason?).

This year, to cut effort by recruiting only two speakers -- and, a neat idea -- have them do two presentations apiece.  Normally, the club hosts five to six speakers who cover an array of subject material, from Lake Malawi cichlids, breeding discus, invertebrate culture, aquatic gardening, or collecting trips to Amazon.  This year, one of the two speakers is going to talk about desert fishes of the United States and fishes endemic to the Australian continent.  There is no doubt that this speaker will satisfy the needs and interests of all the freshwater hobbyists: the other speaker, who has spoken at the show in the last two years, will talk about two highly unique and different aspects of saltwater tanks.  With such a varied lineup, I am certain that the club will attract large groups of aquarists throughout the region.

This year’s auction looks to be a real winner, too.  In years past, representatives from such companies as Marineland, Wardleys, Cichlid Press, Python, Kordon, Tetra, and Aquarium Pharmaceuticals donated crates and crates of wonderful dry goods and equipment for the club to handle as they desired.  Most of these items went into the auction at the annual show.  Fish wholesalers, too, brought boxloads of rare and unusual fish to donate to the society via the auction.  In all, the whole selling of all the items took five to six hours to liquidate.  This year, though, the auction should be a lot more streamlined.  There may not be as many -- if any -- vendors at the show to donate items, so that’s less goods for the club to move around and less “thank you” notes to produce and mail.  Some companies, though, have shipped the club a few boxes of airstones and plastic strip thermometers to distribute.  The fish, on the other hand, will have to come from those persons who find out about the show in time:  the members, for instance.  Even though the auction may be only about one-fifth the size it was in previous years, a majority of the members who attend the board meetings anymore felt the club could absorb any cost overruns by either raising the membership dues to $20 a year or raising the registration fees to double what they were from the previous year.

And just how optimistic is the club leadership about the show?  We can just look to the social leader and ambassador of club goodwill, the aquarium society president, who clearly indicates that he soundly believes that the show will be a grand success.  With such statements as, “I’m going to finish out my term and leave it all behind...the club, the members, everything!” or “...maybe if I quit going to the meetings, I will get thrown out of office by default!” one can easily see that the club is heading down the road towards its greatest destiny....
 

(Meanwhile, an old, dusty tape player somewhere in a closet up on Harrison Street keeps playing and catching itself, and then rewinding, and then playing ad infinitum, “.... there’s more than two Augusts .... there’s more than two Augusts ... there’s more than two Augusts ... there’s more than two Augusts ... there’s more than two Augusts ... there’s more than two Augusts ...)

Greater Portland Carping Society, Portland, Oregon:  Much squalor had been raised over the look of the new flag here.  The Domos, though, were quite proud of their new incarnation: a simple, round, yellow circle smiley face.  Some said that the new logo (or insignia) looked a little like the president himself.  The president claimed “the logo is just too dull and boring, all of those reds, whites, and blues.  This new one is quite dynamic.  It says quite a lot about the club.”

But the GOOP, as cantankerous as they were, saw the real issue for all of this:  to obscure the truth with some new, exciting trend.  “Dynamic is just another word, and they know it.  This yellow face is ludicrous!  The people must be able to vote upon this artifact of tradition!”

Meanwhile, the Domos were going off on their opposition, saying that the original Old Glory had been modified all of these years anyway, right down to the colors themselves, which was now reputed to be there to match Evel Knievel’s suit:  “If Evel isn’t a patriot, then who is?”

“This agenda to change the inisgnia (or logo) is part of an agenda of the Domos’ to change all that is good...” said a key GOOP official.  “While out rewriting the ‘highly outdated and non-dynamic’ constitution, they raised dues 50% -- taxation without representation -- using the monies to buy books to purchase books with pictures of naked fish in them!”

The GOOP, however, continued to gnash and grit their teeth.  They even threw out their pet newt.  They fought a war trying to protect the logo (insignia?).  Then, it was found out, they decided to do something else...

Tee hee!

There once was an aquarium society that met once a month.  This club had a monthly raffle to keep money in the coffers.  It also had an annual auction, a small but entertaining monthly publication and a program every month.  And, like many aquarium societies, it had an asshole.

This asshole sat in the back a criticized everything and everyone.  He had nothing good to say unless it was about himself.  He laughed at his own jokes and told obvious lies about how good an aquarist he has become over the years.

One day when the asshole was telling some of the newer members about how he crossed a Corydoras paleatus and a pink convict to get an O.B. convict when the clubs "nice guy" over-heard this story.  It really pisssed him off.  So the asshole and the "nice guy" argued for a while about the origins of the aforementioned fish.

The "nice guy" explained a thing called genetics to the asshole and the asshole laughed.  The "nice-guy" explained behavioral signals and pheromones to the asshole and the asshole roared with laughter.  The "nice-guy" patiently drew clad-o-grams on napkins and RNA chains from both the South American catfishes and Central American cichlids and showed the lack of matching DNA base pairs between the fish.  The asshole was running out of breath and tears streaked down his face.  The nice guy walked away in frustration.

The asshole finished his story for the new comers, complained about the program and crappy raffle prizes, passed gas loudly and went home.

The "nice guy" thanked everyone for their hard work, helped clean up the place, carried a heavy box out to his car and went home.
 
 

Moral: Sometimes, it is more fun to be an asshole.

With the release of Livebearing Trumpet No. 43, “Covered n’ Chunked,” I aired a version of events and further ramblings about a friend who has supported me and helped me through my life for much of this closing decade.  Specifically, I made false, jealous-minded statements about a personal relationship; grotesque assumptions and lies about why such a relationship existed; and bluntly obscene, leering, explicit gestures, all in some effort to produce what I thought to be some sort of satirical take on an event and the events leading up to it.  In short, I went “outside the circle” of good taste and decency to mortally wound my friendship with Lisa Hayashi.

I can not successfully recall why I made such an attempt to destroy our link in the first place.  Was I thinking?  Yes, I was.  Why did I do it?  I am not sure.  What good did it do for you – or anyone else?  I don’t know.  But if it helps at all, I would like to now say that I am sorry, sorry for making the statements I made and would like very much for an opportunity to try to erase them from history and start again.  However, as this is not possible, I must now deal with the steps I have taken and hope that our relationship is not completely unsalvageable.  Lisa, I am sorry.

Sincerely,
 

Joe Middleton

Hey man, thanks for inviting me to your party!  Good, nice to see you again.  Not much, just the same old thing.  Hey, you’ve got fish tanks!  Had a goldfish as a kid, but it died.  I overfed it.  Won it at the carnival , my dad did one of those “toss a dime into the saucer” deals.

Sure, I’ll have a beer!  Pabst?  No, there’s nothing wrong with that.  Last time I had a Pabst I was in school.  Not like I’m being a snob or like I’m better than that.  I’ll have a Pabst, man.  Mmmm, not bad.  Like Dennis Hopper said in Blue Velvet…ever seen that movie?  He played this bad-ass character, Frank Booth, who said – and this was famous line – “Heineken?  Fuck that shit! Pabst Blue Ribbon!!!” Hey, it sure blasts Old Milwaukee and Hamm’s all to hell.

Hey, isn’t this “The Nails” you’re playing?  This is really something else, man!  Haven’t heard them for awhile – a long while.  Like that song, Jesus buying them alligator shoes and resurrecting the alligators.  Out there, man, I mean – substantial darkness.  Wow, really heavy.  No, it’s cool, way cool.

You got another beer?  Thanks, man!  These tall cans are pretty nice.  I could get used to doing this again, you know.  Mmmm…Hey, what’s that smell?  Like, some really good shit, man.  Really?  Really, for me??  Thanks, man!!!  Nah, they don’t test me anymore, not at this level.  I’m safe.  Could always clean myself out if I had to.  The only shit I have been able to get was just plain dirt cheap crap.  Nothing more than a twinkle or two.  Got a ‘chez?  Thanks, man!  Wow, I haven’t done this shit like this years…

H-h-h-o-o-o-l-l-y  S-s-h-i-i-t-!-!-!  T-that was q-quite a hit, man!  Jesus!  No, man, I’m fine!  I’ll s-stop c-coughing in a minute.  C-can I have another Pabst?  Hmmm…better…that cooled it down.  Yeah, let’s burn this sucker down! W-w-w-o-w-!  That’s really good shit, like, “Wow!,” man!  Another hit?  Thanks?  I-I-I j-just, like, wow.  I mean, “Wow!”  Jeezus!  No, I’m fine, take my turn and then yours and then pass it back.  G-g-g-god!!!  That’s great stuff!  I think it’s ash, man.  Load it up again?  Okay, but you toke the first!  I’ll go get another beer. 

Wow.  That’ll do me.  Fine.  Okay, really.  Heh heh heh.  Mmmm…  God, that’s good shit, I’m pretty fucked up.  Heh heh heh heh.  Mmmmm.  Intense.  Like, hardcore.

Wow,  Yeah,  Like, I ain’t going nowhere.  Shit.  Another?  Just a little more, you know.  Like I’m almost there.  Heh heh heh.  Need to get another beer.  You load up.  You go first.  I don’t want to take a hit right off, you know.  Like, burn it down a little, get some of that residue flowing, you know.  P-p-phew!  So nice.  Wow.  Jeez.  That’s it.  This stuff.  It like, like, comes up on you.  Y-yeah!  It just kicks you in the back of the head, you know.  Wow.  Like, wow.  Mmmm…

Wow.  Going to go over here.  Going to go over here and look at your fish.  Where’s the tank?  Oh.  Okay.  Kind of disoriented.  Heh heh heh heh.  Mmmm…  Look at that, look.  It like it swims up.  Then it swims down!  It’s the same yellow fish!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  It’s like saying something to me.  It’s talking!  It’s a talking f-fish!  Wow.  I could sit here and listen to it talking to me, like, forever!  Heh heh heh!  Jesus, Man!  I mean, Jesus!  That’s amazing, that’s so fucking amazing!  Wow.  Wow.  I mean, it’s so heavy.  Like, what am I doing here?  Wow.  Heh heh heh.  Heh heh heh.  Like, knock knock.  W-who’s there?  P-peking!  Peking who?  P-peking o-u-t!

Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!   Heh heh heh!  Heh heh heh!

Heh!