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Shag, marry, push off a cliff.

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13:28 / 22.01.03

Oops, I've been told that I missed the last installment of Flux's "NXM bag/crag/shag trilogy" ...is this a personality test, Flux?

Xorn, Xavier, Jean

Bag Xorn, obviously. I love Xorn madly!

But then here's where it gets tricky. I don't particularly care for Xavier or Jean. I mean, they're both fine. They just don't float my boat in any special way. The real problem is that if I crag either of them, Xorn won't love me. Noooo, Xorn must love me!

So I would shag Jean. Like I said, I don't find her particularly attractive --Emma's more my type-- but I need her for what comes next, which is....

Crag Xavier. At the very least, Jean can use her telekinetic powers to slow him down....

...and if he gets a little hurt, Xorn will heal him! And he will be very proud of me for coming up with such a clever plan.

And all will live happily ever after...

I see that I've got to get back to Ariadne, too (Cruel! Cheese sauce, strawberries, rare steak... I will never be able to choose.) In the meantime, back at Ariadne with a revised version:

Leopold Bloom
Molly Bloom
Orlando Bloom ...lovely Orlando Bloom...

13:41 / 22.01.03

He is pretty, isn't he?

But... I'll still bag Leopold because I truly love him.

Orlando's too pretty to have around long term, I'd get fed up with him taking over the bathroom to condition his hair and sharpen his cheekbones. So a quick shag and out he goes.

And that leaves poor rambling Mol to stumble over the clifftop.

13:51 / 22.01.03

Mmmm. He can shoot me full of arrows anytime.

14:29 / 22.01.03

All right, Persephone:

--Getting shot full of arrows by Orlando Bloom
--Not getting shot by any arrows by anybody
--Having a nice cup of tea while watching someone else get shot full of arrows

Matthew Fluxington

14:37 / 22.01.03

for Apple-Picker:

Jimmy Fallon
Tracy Morgan
Seth Meyers

for Runce:

Cliff Steele
Crazy Jane
Rebis

for Saveloy:

Thurston Moore
Lee Ranaldo
Jim O'Rourke

Rizla:

NME
Q
Mojo

Jack Fear:

Mick Jones
The Edge
Johnny Marr

for Flyboy:

Meryl Streep
Julianne Moore
Nicole Kidman

for Haus:

Ross
Chandler
Joey

The Apple-Picker

14:47 / 22.01.03

for Apple-Picker:

Jimmy Fallon
Tracy Morgan
Seth Meyers

We all move to Utah and get hitched!

The Apple-Picker

15:11 / 22.01.03

Okay, I'll give a real answer, but I don't want to. I really want to bag 'em all.

Noooooo. This is too hard! They're all so cute and funny.

Okay, here we go again. I know that I'm supposed to crag Seth, shag Tracy, and bag Jimmy.

But, I think I'm going to have to crag Jimmy. He's extremely cute and very funny, but I really don't want the chronic comparison with the millions of other girls who would want to date him. My position as the bagger would feel constantly threatened by usurpers. And so, dear Jimmy, if I can't have you no one can. Over the cliff you go.

I shag Tracy. I'm sweet like baby meat, and he likes that. And he wants to get white girls pregnant, so here's a shot.

So I bag Seth. Whoa! Look at that dark horse pull into the lead! What an upset!

15:14 / 22.01.03

Rizla:

NME
Q
Mojo

Shag NME. In a violent, bloodcurdling, painful and degrading manner.

Bag Mojo. Because it's sensible and tolerable and nicely reassuring sometimes.

Crag Q. Cos it's unbelievably shite.

The Apple-Picker

15:21 / 22.01.03

Okay Flux, you bastard. What goes around comes around.

Maya Rudolph
Amy Poehler
Tina Fey
Rachel Dratch

Why four? Because you have to bag, crag, shag, and drag through a quarter mile of hot coals by her hair.

15:29 / 22.01.03

Flux:

"For Saveloy:

Psychedelia
Punk
Pop"

I thought this was going to be really tricky, but having given it a bit of thought it's dead simple.

Bag
Pop. I love pure weirdness and I love pure noise but I love weird pop and noisy pop even more, and I'll never fall out of love with the tunes, hooks, noises, inflections etc etc that hit my YESSS! buttons. Of the three on offer, pop covers the broadest range of sounds and styles - ie anything with even a bit of a tune - and stimulates a wider variety of brain-glands than the other two. So there'd be a lot of the dressing up going on in the evenings. The hit you get from pure strangeness and pure anger might be deeper but I can't sustain it for as long or as regularly as the pop hit.

Shag: Psychedelia, definitely. All those psychedelic posters in the 60s, they were pictures of orgasms, weren't they? A psyche shag would last months, involve choirs and flashing lights and woo-woo space effects and would leave you fucked and mangled and dribbling for days afterwards. Plus there'd be long slow shimmery stretches where you could have a bit of a breather, make a cup of tea and a fried egg sandwich before the next burst of stimulation. A shag with punk would be just the way John Lydon described it: "two minutes of squelching." And you'd catch scabs off it too.

Crag: Punk. Not just by default; punk and falling off a cliff sort of go together.

19:09 / 22.01.03

D'you mind, gridley? I'm still trying to work out cheese sauce, strawberries, and rare steak here!

Okay, fi-inne...

Getting shot full of arrows by Orlando Bloom, Not getting shot by any arrows by anybody, Having a nice cup of tea while watching someone else get shot full of arrows

Crag watching someone else get shot full of arrows. I'm very sensitive, you know.

Shag getting shot full of arrows by Orlando Bloom. I think I may wet my pants now.

Bag not getting shot by any arrows by anybody. If I survive.

***

Okay now, this is the last one for me...

cheese sauce, strawberries, rare steak

Deep breath.

I'll start by shagging the cheese sauce. Because cheese sauce is soooo good, but so bad for you. So it ought to be great sex.

So now I've got cheese sauce running down my legs. I'm still very undecided between strawberries and rare steak, so I take them both to the cliff's edge. I cry over them and can't decide. So I flip a coin. Strawberries lose.

I fling strawberries over the edge, but at the last second I think but strawberries, they bruise so easily! and I try to save them... but my foot slips on cheese sauce! And I go over the cliff! And I can't grab anything because I'm still holding the rare steak!

And in my last performance in the weirdest airshow ever seen, I know that I've always known ...that food would be my downfall.

Me! Coat! Bye!

00:34 / 23.01.03

I'm surprised I haven't seen this one before!

For Rothkoid (extra points for style)

LINUX
Windows
Apple

The Apple-Picker

01:19 / 23.01.03

Hey, now. I'm not getting shagged by anybody!

...and isn't that a shame.

The Return Of Rothkoid

02:07 / 23.01.03

LINUX
Windows
Apple

Shag: Apple. And who wouldn't, really? A droolworthy GUI, lovely feel, and equipment with sexxxy lines. It's all there. Bring it ON! Extensions folder ahoy.
Bag: Linux. Got more potential than Windows, requires a fair amount of work to uncover its arcane secrets - I think it's a long-lasting thing. And it makes me feel 133t, which helps.
Crag: Windows. Fuckya, Bill. Predictable, yes, but hey. It'd get me in swell with Linux, too.

And, back atcher:
Animal
Mineral
Vegetable

and, for anyone else:

Monopoly
The Game of Life
Scrabble

Camus
Kafka
Kundera

Jeremy Beadle
Matthew Kelly
Noel Edmonds

The Apple-Picker

02:26 / 23.01.03

I say it's time for a break on this paper that I have yet to begin.

Monopoly
The Game of Life
Scrabble

Crag The Game of Life. Yes, this used to be my favorite, second to Clue, when I was a kid, but come on--once you retire, Life is over.

Shag Monopoly. Who wouldn't want a driven and insatiable game in the sack? Okay, so sometimes it just seems like it's going on forever, but Monopoly really should never have been meant for the long haul. Marriage with Monopoly would be utter tedium.

And ooh, baby, bag the Scrabble. We'll go at it all night for the rest of our lives! And it's what I've been told marriage is like: you get out of it what you put into it.

For Sean McGlinchey:

T.S. Eliot
Wallace Stevens
Robert Frost

03:10 / 23.01.03

Animal
Mineral
Vegetable

Hmmm. Archetypes.

Animal makes me think of action ranging from actively mutating primordial ooze to really meaty primal pulsing, blood drums and unidentifiable shrieks in the night. Definitely a shag.

Vegetable has its own power, but it's a slow thing. No arterial urgency here, but the grace of trees and the whispered wisdoms of the grasses. Bag, and not even Death will part us; I'll become a part of the trees and grasses.

Crag the rocks.

14:44 / 23.01.03

More'n a day late and more'n a dollar short, here....

Ariadne gives me
France
China
New Zealand

And again, I can't win this one: I'm going to end up looking like a xenophobe or an exoticist no matter how I play this...

Okay, given that: China goes over the cliff. Too big, too complicated to manage either in marriage or in a no-tell motel. And frankly, I think I might be putting her out of her misery: she's been in an abusive relationship for a long, long time, and has suffered terribly: she doesn't need a lover, she needs a divorce lawyer. I'll miss her, and she'll haunt me, but I had nothing else to give her.

France gets the shag, and I'm out before the sheets dry, and that's pretty much how she wants it: she really doesn't want me hanging around anyway. She'll be offended if I leave fifty bucks on the dresser, but she'll be offended if I don't, too.

But New Zealand—ah, she's a keeper. Friendly and domestic, but with a wild streak that will keep things interesting. She embodies both comfort and magnificence, and never ceases to enchant and amaze. I'll never grow tired of her, and I'll do my best to live up to her wonderfulness.

Flux was just axin'...
Mick Jones
The Edge
Johnny Marr

Oh, boy. You know how to hurt a guy.

I can't crag The Edge, because he was so beautiful and inventive when he was young: but I've got all his licks figured out now—he hasn't surprised me in years, and domesticity would be dull as ditchwater. So it's a long, echoing shag for old times' sake, then a lingering kiss and goodbye.

Mick loved only Joe, I know; so it's another mercy killing as he goes over the cliff to join his beloved: Straight to Heaven, boys.

That leaves Johnny to be mine, all mine. He's been a rambling boy for years now, but I think he's ready to settle down. I'll never be bored, and I've so much to learn from him; all the wonderful tricks he'll be showing me, those late nights in the warm glow of the amplifiers...

Bizunth, are you there? Who do you love, baby?
Famine
Pestilence
War

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