Euro Already Losing Ground to Scooby Bucks

002 is proving a bleaker year for the united European economy as the new Euro Dollar lost ground to the Paramount’s Kings Island Scooby Buck at the close of the market Friday.

The Scooby Buck, a currency bearing the likeness of the Hanna-Barbera Great Dane and accepted only within Paramount’s Kings Island theme parks, has reportedly been rising steadily with the onset of a film version of Scooby Doo coming summer of this year. At the same time, arguments over the Euro Dollar and the recent failings of the stock market have only served to drive down the value of the new European standard coin.

“It’s not surprising,� said Columbia University Professor of Economy Merton Scheff. “The European market has been separated all of its history. It’s a bold move more political than economical to develop and accept a currency that crosses boundaries. Factor into that the contrasting safety of a theme park currency, where homelessness is non-existant and the issue of unemployment usually just means you don’t have to spend another hot day in that lousy Yogi Bear suit.�

Added Scheff: “Plus, have you ever turned on The Cartoon Network? That goddamn dog is always on there. Maybe he owns the network or something.�

In an effort to combat the weakening Euro, associates of the European Union Organization have suggested several ways to raise prominence of the new united Europe. One is the world’s largest coaster, the Crusade, which if constructed will be the world’s largest and most dangerous coaster. Unlike American coasters, Euro Union representatives promise children will be able to ride just like adults.

Another proposal winning acceptance among the heads of the united European countries is mascot designed to warm up the appeal of Europe to outsiders. The mascot, Queen Mum, will be adorned in the flags of all the European countries and look exactly like Britain’s Queen Elizabeth, except for the much larger head. Mascot designers have said that physics prevent duplicating such a head in a mascot uniform.

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A lot of people look at me and they're quite impressed to see a man my age, part of the '80s generation, who's so hip and into what's "now." But I have to admit, there's some things that bring out the old fart in me, and until recently, completely shaved pussy was one of 'em. It just gave me the chills, and while it never stopped me from fucking away, it always left me a little disappointed—but not any more. I've had a change of heart about shaved vaginas.

Not a week went by, in the past, where I didn't go so art gallery opening or book signing and a friend or random guy in line didn't try to convince me hairless twat is the way to go—I don't know what brings it out in these people. As soon as you make a gagging noise at a bare beaver in a nude photo displayed high on the museum wall, some joker thinks it's his personal mission to sway you from your preference for fuzzy trim. "It's more sanitary," they'd say. "It's nicer to the touch." Well, if that's true, we should all shave our heads, too. I mean, I do, but you see my meaning. Maybe I'm stuck in the past, but if you're not spitting hairs out onto your lover's thigh constantly, to me, it's just not real fucking.

I've always thought it gave the impression I was fucking pre-teens or something. Disgusting. I mean, I make it a point not to ask a lady's age because it's a rude question, but if she says she wants to fuck like a horny toad when I ask, I at least look for some sign I might be going to prison. Now that women are going bald on purpose down there, where's the line? It's like I've got to card my one-night stands, and that's no fun. But as I've said, I've kind of cleared that whole "bare pussy makes me want to vomit" phase.

You can ask if I just started to roll with the times or had a bad experience or something, but I'm not exactly sure what swayed me on this complex argument. Maybe it's all the upskirt shots of famous celebrities that we're seeing lately. It might be the girls I've been bagging like a teen-aged Piggly Wiggly employee, who knows. Or it's probably just that if you see shaved vagina after shaved vagina on your gym spy cam, eventually you just become familiar with it. All those things may be a factor. But seeing a girl of unknown age discreetly soap up her bald pussy when she thinks no one is watching no longer bothers me like it used to. You could even say I like it, although I'm ultimately hoping this whole thing is still a fad. Yes, in sixteen years' time, when the children of today are the hot young fuck sluts of tomorrow, I hope that we as a nation are swimming in bush again. A man can dream, can't he?

I guess it's true what parole officers say—you can take the man out of prison, but you can't quite take the prison out of the man. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I'm always going to be the boy who group up beating meat to thick jungles of pubic hair on skinny, busty nude models in issues of Playboy, Penthouse, or even Oui. Just because those publications have changed or ceased to exist, and the arena is now filled with drunken college girls flashing their goodies for T-shirts, doesn't mean that I've grown along with that trend. I'm stuck in the past, maybe, wrapped in tendril after tendril of short curly hairs. But I like it that way. It doesn't mean I'm going to give up fucking girls whose names I don't remember, but it doesn't mean I'm not going to fondly remember those simple days, before full-body waxes.

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"Mom had this vase given to her in Great Aunt Mable's will and she loved it dearly. It sat on a wooden table in front of our picture window. I think it was from Japan. All I remember was the funny blue lines that decorated its pale, white surface. She told all of us kids never to touch that vase. I asked her if I could put things in it and she told me, 'Only on special occasions.'

Turns out finding three dozen night crawlers isn't a special occasion."

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