Zooass Newsletter #15 (It's About Time!) - December 3, 1998

Welcome to the longest running joke on Zooass... the
Zooass "Weekly" Newsletter. It's been quite a while,
but did you really enjoy hearing me babble that much
anyway?

First, I'll tell you about the multitude of new stuff
on the site. Then, if you're still awake, I tell the
tale of how I got scammed by a couple of Hungarian
floozies in Budapest.

You may have noticed that icons containing keys and
links mentioning "ZooSponsors" have been popping up all
over the site. Yes, friends, we could no longer keep
Zooass alive on the handful of $2 donations we got when
we begged for your support, although we appreciate them
greatly. We now have exclusive content for fans who are
kind enough to give us a mere $10 for a yearly
subscription. I think it's a pretty damn good deal, not
to mention that it's the only way for us to continue
providing the stupidity you crave.  If you're broke and
can't afford to sponsor Zooass you'll still be able to
see new stuff  in the Joke Jungle, ZooBar, Toy Server,
and freebie counterparts to the exclusive content in
new sections like "Super Silly Car Signs," but you'll
miss out on the latest and greatest insanity. So come
on! What's a lousy $10? We're worth it dammit!

WHAT'S NEW

The Desktop Dot - The Ultimate Desktop Companion

All those stupid Desktop Pets / Screenmates finally
inspired us to make our own! From the far reaches of
India comes the Desktop Dot - the ultimate desktop
companion! The Desktop Dot is more than just a stupid
dot that rests atop your desktop and babbles anything
it damn well pleases. It's a companion, a friend, and
probably the only creature on this godforsaken planet
that truly loves you. Visit the Zooass home page and
download it today!

Mrs. Vagina - The Internet's First Talking Vagina!

It was a sad day when Mr. Penis retired, but what can
you do. You can't have a hard-on forever, you know.
Chances are the answer to your question is in the
searchable archive anyway, so don't hesitate to
continue to explore the section. But now that Mr. Penis
has gone limp, his female counterpart has come out of
hiding! See this wonderful creature "in the flesh" as
she portays her all time favorite characters including
Elvis, Abe Lincoln and Braveheart.  A limited time demo
is available to download, so check it out before it's
too late! We've gone too far with this one, haven't we?

Super Silly Car Signs

The first addition to the new "Whatever" section
featuring the misfit creations of Zooass, which simply
didn't fit in anywhere else.

Super Silly Car Signs are great for making those
everlasting road trips more enjoyable! Perform the
world's most fascinating behavioral experiment by
flashing stupid signs like "I'm Not Wearing Any Pants"
and "I Brake for Booty" to fellow travelers and seeing
how they react. The Freeload Freeway contains 7 signs
for everyone. The Zooass Turnpike contains 18 more for
ZooSponsors.

Wacky Postcards

There are currently 10 new postcards in here for
ZooSponsors. Perusing the cards for a good laugh is
free for all (heck why not dress Baby Creepy while
you're at it), but unless you're a ZooSponsor you
simply won't be able to send the new arrivals.
Exclusive postcards are indicated by stamps containing
keys.

ZooBar Drinking Games

Now you can visit the ZooBar's Drinking Game Archive
and get loaded in style! With 42 drinking games in all,
you can now look forward to seeing the room spin faster
than ever. What fun!

Big Busted Bimbo Breakout

The newest addition to the Playzone! Modeled after the
80s arcade hit Arkanoid, the Big Busted Bimbo Breakout
has catapulted gaming to a whole new level. Break away
those annoying bricks that block your view of those
incredibly voluptuous titties... right in the privacy
of your own home.

The Love Machine

Finally! The counterpart to the ever-popular
Relationship Terminator is here!  This fine tool is a
Sure-fire way to convince that special someone to rip
off his or her clothes in a horny frenzy and screw your
friggin' brains out. Featuring almost 150 of the
cheesiest pick-up lines out there!

Toy Server

In addition to all of the free-for-all games added
periodically, keep an eye on the ever-expanding X-files
archive (which is actually scattered throughout the
section as indicated by keys), featuring naughty
software for the pervert in you.

Lair of the Jackass

Now our adorable little mascot has his own home! Check
out the "Lair of the Jackass," featuring an erotic
photo-shoot with Zooass Plush Jackass spokes-model,
Gabbi of Gabbi.com. Can you believe we actually got her
to pose butt naked with a stuffed animal? What a
wonderful world!

And while we're talking about our little friend, I have
some bad news. Addicted to crack and armed with a buck
knife, Santa has gone haywire. One by one our precious
Zooass Plush Jackasses are being hunted, skinned and
fed to rabid wolves! So please give the gift of life
this Xmas and adopt a Zooass Plush Jackass today!

Miss Zooass Competition

Your moment of glory is now within reach! Who will be
Miss Zooass 1998? The suspense is just killing me!
If you'd like to enter into this competition you'd
better hurry up! We're going to have to pick a winner
soon. Zooass will pick the finalists, then we'll have
a public vote to pick the winner. Feel free to peruse
the profiles of the applicants to date. What a bunch
of freaks!

Wow! Not writing a newsletter for 4 months really makes
these things long, doesn't it.

###

SCAMMED IN BUDAPEST by Sir

This event took place only a couple months ago in
Budapest, Hungary.

It was a dark and stormy night in Budapest. Sir and his
friend Pauli roamed the streets in search of happening
nightlife on a Monday night, a tough quest indeed. I
have some advice for you, avid reader. If you ever go
to Budapest armed with a "Let's Go!" guide, rip out the
entire nightlife section and throw it in the fucking
trash! After many miles of walking back and forth
across town in the rain we found out that every
supposed hotspot had either shut down or was closed,
despite what that evil book said. So needless to say,
we were not in the best of spirits.

As we walked through the main downtown area, heading
home in defeat with any buzz acquired in the small pubs
we did visit walked off, we happened upon a most
wonderful site - two lovely ladies milling about the
square. Surely they would save us from our misery!
Little did we know they'd only amplify it.

"Hallo!" said the blonde with the stupid little girl
teddy bear backpack. Alright. Fine. It did turn me on
just a little bit! So I asked them where the action was
on a Monday night and we started chatting. In short, we
told them about us, they told us about them, and they
invited us to go to a pub which just happened to be
right near where they were standing.

Now I have to tell you, my friend knew something was
up.  I guess he based his assessment of the situation
on the fact that:

1) Two hot blondes were actually talking to a couple of
shmucks like us.

2) They were seemingly full of crap. Yeah, sure you're
both gymnastics teachers. Didn't I see that on an
episode of Seinfeld?

3) To be blunt, they were dressed like sluts...
teetering on the edge of looking like a couple of well
dressed hookers.

I too sensed that strange things were afoot, but was so
bored that I really didn't give a crap. Worse case
scenerio: we have a drink or two with a couple of
Hungarian hookers and flee the scene. Sounds like a
good story doesn't it?

So we went to this stuffy little pub right above where
we had eaten dinner earlier that night. It was so
stuffy, in fact, that we were the only ones in there,
aside from the few gentlemen seated at the bar. We were
seated at a table by a friendly waiter and asked what
we wanted. Now I can't recall exactly what our female
companions ordered, but their exchange with the waiter
didn't consist of more than a couple foreign words.
Then they asked us if we wanted what they were
drinking. We declined and requested a couple of cold
ones.

Moments later the waiter comes over with a tray
overflowing with drinks in exotic shaped glasses,
placing each and every one in front of the women. Our
beers felt quite alienated. This is when my internal
warning system kicked in... "You have been chumped! You
have been chumped!" Without taking a sip of my beer I
grabbed the menu, ignoring the girlie babble being
directed at me. I looked at the grape shaped decanter
of wine. I looked at the menu. I looked back at the
bottle. I looked back at the menu. Hmmm. 400,000(?)
Hungarian whatever-the-fuck-they're-calleds. Oh that
comes to about $200 American dollars. And that's not
even including the 4 other exotic drinks on the table.
Gee. I hope these ladies don't think we're going to pay
for their drinks.

Enter waiter.

"Here is the bill (you American dumbfucks)."

A quick calculation revealed an estimated bill of over
$300, which we did not have on us.

Us: "We're just going to pay for our beers and go."

Waiter (using his most eloquent accent): "But you must
pay for the bill."

Us: "We only ordered the beers. They ordered the rest
of the drinks."

Them: "We don't have any money."

FUCK! Panic ensues. We tell the waiter we need a moment
to straighten out the bill and he leaves.

I started lecturing the backpack bitch about how rude
it was to assume that we would pay for such expensive
drinks. Her answer was that she thought it was OK since
they were in the medium price range and not the most
expensive drinks on the menu. Oh I see. So we were only
half-way shafted. Fuck you very much.

Enter Waiter.

Waiter (still trying to sound sincere with his silly
accent that would have worked great in a Monty Python
skit): "Are you ready to pay the bill."

Us: "We are only paying for our beers. We don't have
the money."

Waiter: "You must pay the bill. Or you cannot leave."

Us: "We didn't say we'd buy their drinks, and we
certainly wouldn't have ordered them had we known how
much they cost."

Waiter: "You should have looked at the menu before
ordering. Now that the drinks are poured I can not take
them back. I can not resell these."

Us: "But WE didn't order them."

To sum it up, it just didn't matter what we said.
Meanwhile the girls were still trying trying to work us
over with sweet talk during this whole exchange. At
least I got the rare pleasure of growling "I don't want
to hear another fucking word out of you!" to a hot
chick, I suppose. So basically, the guy made us empty
out our pockets and took about $150 from us. Baby bear
was nice enough to tell the waiter that she saw Pauli
put some money in his pocket. Bitch! Pauli
sarcastically offered his bus ticket and a condom in
addition to our cash. The waiter didn't seem to
recognize the monetary value of these items.

In an attempt to get away with minimal losses, we tried
pulling one over on him by claiming we didn't have cash
cards. He didn't seem to care, insisting that we
couldn't leave until the bill was paid. We offered to
pay with our credit cards, but he said that he couldn't
accept them... unless we went somewhere "15 minutes
away" with him, wherever that was. A dark alley
perhaps?

After realizing that all of the people at the bar were
hulking thugs who would beat the crap out of us at any 
given moment, we knew there was no escape. After all,
we had no rights there. We were tourists. The idea of
spending the night in a Hungarian prison as a man named
Barokk boned me whilst shoving my face in a bowl of
goulash seemed like a fate worse than death, so we had
no choice but to comply.

I offered to be the hostage, and the hostage I was. 
Pauli agreed to get the money from a machine, as long
as he was not followed. So he left. And he was
followed. I was left with the girls, who were babbling
to each other in foreign tongue, now completely
ignoring me. I used my last minutes with them wisely. I
taunted them with wonderful English phrases like "How's
your fucking drink, bitch!" Despite my harsh words, I
remained invisible to them. Meanwhile, Pauli was
apparently cursing out a guy on a cell-phone who was
lurking behind him on his way to the money machine.
Coincidentally, a thug at the bar was also on a
cell-phone at that time. Starting to see the big
picture?

Soon enough, Pauli returned with the money, handed it
over, we cursed them out, and split. We trudged home in
the rain, two broken Americans who never felt like such
fools in their lives. Our eyes darted about
continually, in fear that we'd be jumped at any moment
and beaten to a bloody pulp. We were spared this final
humiliation, however, and made it home safely.

Needless to say, we got out of that fucking city the
next day! But not before returning to the scene of the
crime to observe the scam in action. The next night
there were two sets of  bimbos pacing back and forth on
the streets, not to mention several shady guys in front
of the joint on cell-phones. Not ten minutes had passed
before they conned a couple of chumps like us and
headed to the bar. We wanted to cry out and warn them,
but feared bodily harm so remained silent. We watched
through the window as they were seated at the very same
table we were the night before... and watched as 12
drinks hit the table. Gee. I guess the guys decided:
"We'll have what they're having." Drink up, boys.
Better savor every sip!

Phew! I think it's time for my cup of shut the fuck up!

This is Sir, signing off...

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