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Spacewarp, v. 5, issue 4, whole no. 28, July 1949
Page 13
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H. LONGHAMMER IN SPACE by WILKIE CONNER (who else?) FORWARD, VERY MUCH SO: You can't write stories about Chuthlu or Arkrelease. Being as how I ain't got it, I will write about H.P.Longhammer instead. For those lucky fans who don't know about H.P.Longhammer he was introduced to an unsuspecting world in SPACEWARP last summer. A large amount of said unsuspecting world now fills the various snakepits around the country. (Any resemblance between H.P.Longhammer's initials and what you think they resemble is purely a resemblance. If H.P.Longhammer resembles anyone living or dead, the guy should be ashamed to admit it.) STORY, IT SAYS HERE. I was peacefully getting out my fanzine Longhammer's Hammerings when who should come bouncing in but my girl friend Betty. She was undressed, as usual, in shorts (very short) and bra (very!) and she looked like a Bergey covergirl, except there wasn't any BEM around. Not counting me. Betty effectively defended herself from my greeting and picked up a page of my fanzine, as I picked myself up from midst the dusty stencils in the corner of the shack. (That sentence is poetic... "Midst the dusty stencils." --remind me to write a poem sometime, Rapp. W. C.) Maybe I shouldn't have tried to untie her bra. "This stinks," she sneered. "I thinned the ink with turpentine," I protested. "Not the odoure," she said snootily in that sweet way that only she can be snooty in (snooty, Rapp, not snotty.WC) I removed my eyes from her br--er, that is, I looked into her beautiful blue orbs -- from a safe distance. Betty doesn't like for people to look too closely into her eyes ever since the night she dated a hypnotist and-- well, she doesn't. "Please, honey, don't criticize the noble efforts of H.Longhammer so crudely! Who knows...perhaps my reader will appreciate my efforts! ((He must have a circulation like WARP --ahr)) "Reader, fooey! Just because someone in Hell's Canyon, Sobbovia, subscribes, is no reason to assume he reads the thing. Maybe they don't have modern plumbing in Hell's Canyon." "They do too have modern plumbing in Hell's Canyon.....besides, 20-lb mimeo paper isn't suitable." "I will not lower myself by arguing with you," she said snottily, in that sweet way only she can be snotty in. (Snotty, Rapp, not snooty. WC) "I came to bring an idea." She paused to slap down my hands. "What sort of thing would you call an idea?" I said sarcastically. I really dribbled the sarcasm. Laid it on thick. Like Sam Merwin, Jr., when he rejects a Conner story or reviews one of Rapp's zines. (13)
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H. LONGHAMMER IN SPACE by WILKIE CONNER (who else?) FORWARD, VERY MUCH SO: You can't write stories about Chuthlu or Arkrelease. Being as how I ain't got it, I will write about H.P.Longhammer instead. For those lucky fans who don't know about H.P.Longhammer he was introduced to an unsuspecting world in SPACEWARP last summer. A large amount of said unsuspecting world now fills the various snakepits around the country. (Any resemblance between H.P.Longhammer's initials and what you think they resemble is purely a resemblance. If H.P.Longhammer resembles anyone living or dead, the guy should be ashamed to admit it.) STORY, IT SAYS HERE. I was peacefully getting out my fanzine Longhammer's Hammerings when who should come bouncing in but my girl friend Betty. She was undressed, as usual, in shorts (very short) and bra (very!) and she looked like a Bergey covergirl, except there wasn't any BEM around. Not counting me. Betty effectively defended herself from my greeting and picked up a page of my fanzine, as I picked myself up from midst the dusty stencils in the corner of the shack. (That sentence is poetic... "Midst the dusty stencils." --remind me to write a poem sometime, Rapp. W. C.) Maybe I shouldn't have tried to untie her bra. "This stinks," she sneered. "I thinned the ink with turpentine," I protested. "Not the odoure," she said snootily in that sweet way that only she can be snooty in (snooty, Rapp, not snotty.WC) I removed my eyes from her br--er, that is, I looked into her beautiful blue orbs -- from a safe distance. Betty doesn't like for people to look too closely into her eyes ever since the night she dated a hypnotist and-- well, she doesn't. "Please, honey, don't criticize the noble efforts of H.Longhammer so crudely! Who knows...perhaps my reader will appreciate my efforts! ((He must have a circulation like WARP --ahr)) "Reader, fooey! Just because someone in Hell's Canyon, Sobbovia, subscribes, is no reason to assume he reads the thing. Maybe they don't have modern plumbing in Hell's Canyon." "They do too have modern plumbing in Hell's Canyon.....besides, 20-lb mimeo paper isn't suitable." "I will not lower myself by arguing with you," she said snottily, in that sweet way only she can be snotty in. (Snotty, Rapp, not snooty. WC) "I came to bring an idea." She paused to slap down my hands. "What sort of thing would you call an idea?" I said sarcastically. I really dribbled the sarcasm. Laid it on thick. Like Sam Merwin, Jr., when he rejects a Conner story or reviews one of Rapp's zines. (13)
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