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“E. recyculus recyculus, et r. cyculus recyculus.”
“From many small bicycles, one bicycle airship.”

vol. CXI       no. 40,465
Tue., Oct. 14, 1513

Dad Joke of the Day

“If you lose your hearing, is it ear replaceable? Thank you, thank you, you're too kind. I'll be here all childhood. Or at least until they inevitably terminate my custody rights.”
“Because there don't appear to be any organic life forms on Mars right now—and because we've sent tons of robots up there to relay information back down to us—technically that means 100% of Mars's current population consists entirely of robots. Think about that: we have a planet in our solar system that's solely inhabited by robots. Mars is a robo-planet. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, no, Mr. Bergens, I didn't complete my science homework per se.”  ȸ
Practical Remedies, Or How To Live Your Life According To An Olde-Timey Cookbook, Part XIV

→ Rise early, retire early, and keep your head clear by paying heed to all the laws of health. Also leeches, because you have too much blood.
→ Take no stimulants, save the harmless ones of tea and coffee, and these not in excess, nor otherwise than at mealtime. Also, cocaine.cocaine. Piles and piles of cocaine.cocaine. You holding?
→ For cramps of the leg, simply stretch the heel as far as possible, at the same time drawing the toes up. Also, take pains to maintain a healthy calcium, magnesium, and potassium deficiency.
→ Two hours is long enough to serve any dinner that Christians ought to eat, and three hours and one half is far too long. Also, long dinner boredom-induced footsiefootsie can lead to serious venerealvenereal disorders, including acute aroused penis.penis.
→ Ladies should draw their skirts into a space that will not crowd their neighbors at the dining table. Also, why are the wenches dining indoors at the men's table in the first place? I know for a fact that their barnyard slop-trough doth overfloweth, because it's 1513.
Word of the Day

vel • o • ci • ped • est • ri • an • ist • i • cal • i • stin • ar • i • an • ol • o • gist:

“One who studies the study of studying cycling and/or vaguely Italian-sounding velociraptors who may or may not perform grisly, cycle-based parlor tricks.”

See also: lab • coat • draped • ty • rann • o • saur • cir • cus • mon • ster • sci • en • tist
FOR FREE: 100% all-vegan hamster gazing

I've been practicing the ancient, meditative tribal art of “100% all-vegan hamster gazing” for going on ten years now, and I feel that I'm nearing perfection with respect to the practice. That being the case, I'm inviting you, free of charge, to gaze upon my 100% all-vegan hamster for yourself, where you're guaranteed to reach a whole new level of oneness and looking at a hamster. For additional details, please send a message by telegraph to whomever you please. Sawdust will likely be provided. Namaste.
Help Wanted

Pretty Decent Gig

As most people know, Frank Picante has vacated his Pretty Decent Gig for a role as a Big Shot Head Honcho at some fancy-pants business with a real nice office and everything. As such, we now need to fill the Pretty Decent Gig. The boss is pretty chill, the hours aren't bad, and you can drink all the coffee we have. You can wear jeans on Fridays and holidays, you know? Not bad. The pay isn't terrible either. Inquiries should be directed to Samantha Caliente.
Increase Your Culinary Vocabulary!

pen • ne • cill • in   \ peh-nay-sill-en \
from Modern Italyish, c. 20th century

1. tube pasta-derived source of potent antibodies, esp. when administered by rectal gel cap, snortable powder, ear suppository, medicinal tramp stamp, or eighteen-part series of direct retinal injections

2. (archaic) a vaccine-infused ravioli dish

Hello, grown up women of America, I am an adult. As such, I am looking for an adult woman to be my girlfriend, so that my friends at school co-workers at the adult factory might stop making fun of me everyday. As I'm sure you're aware, being an adult working at the adult factory can make it quite difficult to find a suitable adult woman. Between counting taxes, shaving skin, and drinking the alcohol, how is an adult ever expected to find love? Please send a recent daguerreotype of yourself without delay (preferably with one or more ankles tastefully exposed), so that I may determine if we are indeed compatible for adult interactions.
I'm a simple man: I like baroque composers, French art house films, and shamelessly lying about my likes to make myself sound like I didn't just fall asleep reading another Dean Koontz novel on the toilet.  Φ

Established 1403 A.D.         “The World's First Web Pages” *
© Copye Righte 1513 RECYCULUS.  ✣   * Printed on 83.1% spider webs.

***  EDITOR'S GOLF NOTE:  this fairway is a liar  ***    
  PORTAGE CAPTAIN:  recipient dweller is chaste sinful    

recycle this issue                  keep this issue                 what's recyculus?                who's recyculus? 
RECYCULUS, from the lowercase, italicized recyculus, literally translates to “from many small bicycles, one bicycle airship” — most likely a nod to the extremely respectable publication's earliest days, during which it rode, impressively sans-hands, atop a wave of light-to-moderate interest in secondhand mega-bicycles that began all throughout history, and persisted well past the future.

In an age when draconian town ordinances hadn't yet been applied to enormous bicycles, exceedingly burdensome village laws required all huge local bicycles to take up entire city blocks, thereby — or so went the theory — maximizing computing power. Despite these job-killing regulations — and to say nothing of the continuous, violent Mongol conquest of its central sales office — RECYCULUS managed to stand out from the used-gargantuan-bicycle crowd, thanks in part to its line of similarly-titanic bicycles, based on designs the burgeoning daily newsletter distributor endeavored to license, at tremendous expense, from hundreds of competing outfits specializing in subpar jumbo bicycles.

Finally, in the first six or seven minutes of the winter of 1402, lightning struck. Later that day, in a quiet moment following the fires, came a turning point: Whilst hopelessly tending to his many serious burns, founder H. Angus Recyculus (no relation) took it upon himself to seize an opportunity to break into the centuries-shy-of-being-conceived-of collection of world wide webs, refocusing the samely-renamed RECYCULUS's efforts on becoming the world's first * and only ** daily issuer of high-test web*** pages — a distinction it maintains, on both counts, as of about 3 PM eastern, 2 PM central.

In those first few thousand heady days, the simple act of “uplinking” new content to the infant web printing press required tens of thousands of recently-paroled, hastily-minted engineers to tightly roll up each and every lovingly-crafted submission, before squeezing them into their hometown energy concern's expansive network of live, weather-frayed, high-load municipal trunk cable — itself yet to be invented — while taking great pains all over their humanity and skeletons to avoid allowing the sudden plumes of almost-certainly-unrelated person steam to curl and/or smear the delicate, invaluable blurbs, before allowing good old-fashioned American electricity to do what it does best, dozens of decades before those words would have any meaning at all. Back then — just like pretty recently — RECYCULUS engineers could be found electrocuted along our nation's many miles of pristine, white sand interstate highways; a quaint reminder of a time we were still in until, again, pretty recently.

As any latterly hypnotized student of history will be instructed to recall, RECYCULUS's unprecedented 587-year run came to an abrupt end at 11:59 PM, on that fateful night of December 31, 1989, when its headquarters exploded during the Great Headquarters Explodings of ’89, and shortly thereafter gently floated off to that elephantine bicycle reseller in the sky. Forty minutes later — once every piece of cinder had finally been looted, discarded, or eaten — it became abundantly clear to the wandering hordes that these scant 5.8 × 1083 scanned pages were all that remained of the once great whatever it had been. Another forty minutes later — after the cinder poisoning had largely subsided, and acting on behalf of RECYCULUS without the proper authorization — the mesothelioma-fortified de facto chieftains decided to make each and every issue available, free of charge, to the entire remaining world, with only the moderate wish that their publisher's great, indecipherable legacy never be truly forgotten or understood.

All of us here at RECYCULUS — from H. Angus Recyculus XVII, Sr. (no relation), on down to the lowliest Senior Vice President of Worldwide Distribution, each of whom has most definitely not**** gone on to live a life of magnificent luxury within the plush, palatial confines of the literal new head office they collided with the instant they missed the turn for the metaphorical one — sincerely hope you'll find something to enjoy in each of these 5.8 billion trillion nonillion decillion modest, extremely amazing, humble, profoundly transcendent, ordinary pages of woven web. (Maybe over a long***** weekend, or something.) And we say that not merely for the sake of the families of the millions who have died meaningless, excruciating deaths to bring you these bland yet succulent texts — but also for the many, many, many millions more who have survived; bedridden by intractable full-body hair pain and roving blood spasms, having long ago been rendered physically incapable of instigating death's sweet release.

This one's for the fans.

* presumably, based on fonts
** based on searches conducted in 1997, while the modems were in the shop — individual results may vary, if they so choose
*** prior to that point, most of the world's pages were spun from leftover cocoon fuzz
**** based on the most up-to-date lies available at the time of the lying
***** likely one of the longest on record, because even if you're a quick reader and were able to enjoy one issue per minute, it'd still take you 1.1 quinvigintillion years — or around 79.8 million billion trillion quadrillion septillion times longer than the universe has even existed — to enjoy them all (or you could just print them for later, in which case maybe ask about the bulk rate on ink, because the sheets of paper required to do so would stretch 205.9 unvigintillion light years across the cosmos, or — were the universe a sphere — roughly 13.9 trillion quadrillion quintillion septillion googol trips around it)


ߜ  Brian Adams

ʘ  Drew Adamski

ȸ  Justin Barricks

  Jack Oolders

Φ  Dave Prague

  Zack Zagranis

  Steve Brunton
  at-large contributor

ȼ  Aaron Casey
  at-large contributor

Δ  Dena Darvish

  at-large contributor

Ϟ  Allan Heifetz
  at-large contributor

϶  Lisa Hytner
  at-large contributor


  Matt Payne
  editor immortalis


email    to contribute