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Damn the whorepedoes
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Soccer Player Killed in Iraq Receives Two Shits

May 3, 2004
Avacado, TX
I
n a brief ceremony Saturday, American soccer player Nathan Horne, killed in action during March in Iraq, was posthumously decorated with the Two Shits medal by a ranking Pentagon officer, Gen. Wilbur Finletter.

The Pentagon had received some criticism from soccer fans in light of recent accolades given former NFL player Pat Tillman, also killed in action, and celebrated as a god among men and all around nifty human being for giving up football to fight in a war otherwise disapproved by the public at large. Critics charged the U.S. military and national media with anti-soccer bias for its worship of Tillman while Horne went unrecognized for his valiant service and awesome death.

Horne's father, Reggie, summed up the position: "Nathan left a potentially-lucrative,...Read more...


Northwest balks at union strike; watch out for falling planes

Condi Rice Hates the Way She Smiles in Pictures

Italian journalist rescued by elite force of plumbers wielding hammers

Pollsters cannot survey cell phone users, phoneless, or dopes who don't answer



June 20, 2005

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Don't Be Absurd My Dear, That's Obviously Not My Shit

Please.

Deidrebane, my dear, I tire of your ceaseless accusations. I swear this is all I've heard about all week since you found that softball-sized rock of crack cocaine in the sofa cushions. For the googleth time, darling, that's clearly not my shit. Do you see my initials monogrammed anywhere on the rock? My elegantly formal CC? Or even one of my famous "Hands Off!" post-it notes? I think not. So let's put this silly controversy to bed before I miss another moment of the Ultimate Fighting Challenge.

No, of course I don't know whose crack rock it might be. Did you ask the children? All of them? You really called Montpellier at reform school? I have to admit I'm impressed by your thoroughness, my dear. What did he have to say? Lonely? Wants to come home? Hit another student with a cue ball? Really? Now that's showing some initiative. I may have misjudged the lad. Was he playing pool or billiards? Snooker? Even better! Remind me to send him a snuff box for Father's Day. I know he's not a father, Deidrebane, but anyone can enjoy a fine mahogany snuff box. Don't be so closed-minded.

Did I see the maid rifling through the couch like she'd just lost several thousands of dollars worth of illegal narcotics? My dear, name me a day when that hasn't happened! You know how Consequa is, with her rifling. That's why we chose her from among the finalists, don't you remember? Consequa was rifling like a pro long after the others had succumbed to...Read more...


º Last Column: My Dear, Your New Children Have Become a Nuisance
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September 15, 2003

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Talking to Your Kids About September 11

The anniversary of the September 11 attacks was Thursday. I see no better time to tell you, the reader, the necessity of talking to your kids about the catastrophe and what it all means to them.

First thing is first. Some younger children, the stupid ones especially, may think with all the news coverage that the September 11 events are happening now. Assure them that they have missed it, that it has already happened. If possible, try to make them think it was a lot cooler than it actually was. Tell them everyone was there and there was weed and free beer. This will ease the pain of thinking we all went through hell.

It is important the children know the truth about what happened to the United States on that day. But then again, what is truth, really? Make sure they know the U.S. was doing its part to make the world a better place for everyone when out of nowhere, without provocation, the devil's lackeys swooped down and destroyed several expensive buildings—and more than that, they destroyed our spirit. And though all those directly involved were instantly killed in the collisions, we will not rest until we find those indirectly responsible.

To kids, terrorism seems like a big, unstoppable thing that is faceless and too complicated to kill. Make sure they know that's not the case. Show them pictures of terrorists, like Osama bin Laden, and tell them who they are. Then make fun of the stupid way terrorists dress and those things...Read more...


º Last Column: Mars Needs Foreskins
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Quote of the Day
“They say you are what you eat, which is precisely why I ate fine young Bernard. Though I regret to report that I feel largely unchanged, except for the part about being in prison and having a permanent case of indigestion.”

-Percy "The Cannibal" Dandridge
Fortune 500 Cookie
Nobody knows the trouble you've seen, and you'll keep it that way if you know what's good for ya, bub. Try mixing your unique brand of illiterate rage with random fits of giggling this week. People hate it when you bring your own records to be played on the jukebox—it's just a soda joint, asshole. This week's lucky piercings: throat, spleen, tear duct, tooth.


Try again later.
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North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie

View Past Columns
BY V.D. Whistling
7/12/2004
Harvey Potluck and the Wish Bitch
Harvey's third year at Hogwash Military Academy and Magic Technical School was off to a most depressing beginning indeed. First, the mustache hadn't grown in like he had hoped at all. Then, that unfortunate incident where he was caught in an indecent act with his broomstick, which earned him the vulgar nickname "Stickfucker" to be endured all year long. Then he found out Phenom Retarded, the devious bastard who had helped kill his parents, was released on shock probation by an old insane magic judge. What a shitty year.

When things seemed they could get no worse, an ominous expression meaning they of course did get worse, he was called to Professor Opatricka Robinson's office. The Asst. Principal of Hogwash had always been very cool to him, but not cool like the guys it's...Read more...

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