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4/30/26   
You can't spell 'patriot' without 'a riot'
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Failed Experiment Produces Hideous Miniature Clone

January 6, 2003
Los Angeles, California
Raelian K-mart
Grotesque humanoid deformity reminds world of the dangers of playing God.
G
enetic science took a step backward last week when the creation of a bald, chubby failed clone was revealed by members of the Raelian sect.

"They have attempted to play god, and they have failed," said someone in our newsroom.

The cloning was carried out by Clonaid, a terribly on-the-nose named company founded by members of the Raelian sect, who believe human beings were created by alien scientists years ago. In case you're wondering, yes, they are being completely sincere when they say that. Members of the socially unapproved religion announced their disappointment when the experiment yielded a clone one-eighth the size of the original, hairless, fatty, and with inhibited intelligence and language skills.

"Imagine our dismay when our optimistic at...Read more...


Seriously, Iceland? Again? WTF?

World's best airline: Cathay Pacific; world's worst: Hindenberg Airways

Someone actually gave Tony Danza another show

Obama: "Fine, you guys do whatever the hell you want."



December 8, 2003

Click for Biography

Pure Garbage

"As Jerry Springer said when announcing he was about to have dinner with a loyal viewer, 'It's time to take out the trash.'"

Is there a real Tony Soprano? I'm just asking because my neighbor says he knows him. And I've seen the TV show before and I don't want to get on the bad side of this guy if my neighbor goes mouthing off to him like he threatened to. Either way I guess it's in my best interest to stop throwing the garbage into the hall.

Garbage men are like Winston Churchill: They get no respect. A bunch of guys whose job it is to ride around on the back of a truck. That's the only highlight of their day. Then they have to haul your messy garbage to the truck and dump it in the back. In some cases. In other cases, the truck can do all the work. They hire Transformers or something, I don't know, but sometimes I watch through the blinds and see the truck pull up and the garbage can is lifted up by robot arms and dumped in the back. I always wonder what happened to the garbage men. I guess the real question is, is it a friendly Transformer or one of the evil ones? Like the Tony Soprano thing, I don't care to find out.

Being a garbage man is the worst job in the world. That's what I told myself when I was working at Trojan as a condom taster, and I stand by it. Sure, I went home feeling weird at the end of a long shift and you can't really get the taste of banana-flavored rubber out of your mouth, but at least only my tongue was...Read more...


º Last Column: Eat the Dog
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November 26, 2001

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Volume 8

Dear commune:

Ed Phillips here again. I was in the midst of another college prank, trying to see how many people I could squeeze in my Yugo when the cops came down on me hard, those punks. As usual, they didn't understand and were very forceful in arresting me, although I told them, to be fair, I didn't kill any of them myself.

With all the terrorism and crap happening lately, I can sort of understand why the overreaction. So many Americans are willing to relinquish a little bit of freedom to make themselves feel safer. I, however, am not. How do we strike a balance? Do I have to write a signed letter with a notary public signature or something to verify that I am willing to sacrifice any security at all in order to retain all my freedoms? If that's the case, I would also like to sacrifice the current security I have in order to gain new freedoms other Americans do not enjoy.

If it sounds good to you, I'd prefer to be shot at maybe once or twice a day in order to enjoy legalized marijuana. If I could have sex with underage teenage girls without repercussions you could go ahead and give like three or four of them some serious disease or a huge boyfriend, that would give me pretty good odds, I think. I'm also looking for a way to commit a murder here or there, but I'm not sure what I can sacrifice, maybe you could serve me some bad undercooked pork or something real dangerous.

I have to go as I just made bail, God bless mom and that...Read more...


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Milestones
1985: Ramrod Hurley flim-flams his way into the studio for the recording of We Are the World. Though his subversive lyrics go unsung, Hurley's taser-induced squeal can be heard two minutes into the track, a sound previously attributed to Cyndi Lauper.
Now Hiring
Conductor. General musical duties as expected: bossing around, waving arms, taking care of stick. Also needed to close gap in circuit between air conditioning unit and power main. Seeking an electric personality who loves going barefoot. Lack of close relatives or body hair a plus.
Top Shocking New Barry Bonds Allegations
1.Extra 45 pounds of muscle added in 1998 not actually from special "Reverse-Atkins Crazy Carboholics" diet
2.Injected Flubber into testicles, just for hell of it
3.Paunchy, long-haired trainer "Camaro Dan" not actual fitness expert
4.Dosed with Nyquil—during daylight hours!
5.Bonds' bats made from genetically-modified maple trees
6.Therapeutic skin grafts actually beef grafts
7.Bonds-endorsed "Human Growth Flakes" cereal not safe for children
8.Bonds didn't actually write "Surfin' Safari"
9.Tasmanian Devil hormone injections not a court-ordered road rage treatment
10.Friends, relatives refer to Bonds as "Skippy"
Last IssueLast Issue’s Lead News Story

North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY Red Bagel
10/4/2004
A Fistful of Tannenbaum Chapter 7: Bomb of Ages
Editor's Note: Cornered by Surprise Truck, and put to a moment of truth, intrepid hero Jed Foster experiences guilt when his longtime non-gay friend, Reilly, volunteers for the suicide mission of trying to shut down the truck, while love interest Paulette Standiford and Foster escape on motorcycleback.

Wham-Bash! Before they knew it, Reilly had managed to climb into the truck's cab and pulled the emergency brake. He had said it would be certain suicide, and it certainly was; the truck flipped over, rolled a couple dozen times, exploded into fire, and then landed on a facility where the small pox virus was stored. In the mix of smoke, flames, and airborn infections, Jed and Paulette couldn't make out anything.

"Shit in a windtunnel!" exclaimed Paulette....Read more...

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