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Bush Eats Shit Off Bike to Prove PointMay 31, 2004
Crawford, TX
Assad the Unseen
President Bush, seen both after and (inset) during his hilarious battle with gravity
I
n a move pundits suspect was designed to improve the president’s poll numbers among the nation’s comedy writers, George W. Bush ate complete shit off a bike during a ride at his Texas ranch last Sunday afternoon. The president spoke for reporters while covered in several comical facial bandages and wearing an arm sling this week to address the topic of his crash, which Bush claims he participated in to prove a point about his increasingly unpopular Iraq policy.

“Even when things don’t go exactly as planned, and you hit a goddamned pothole on the road to liberation, you’ve got to climb back on that nation and ride her home,” Bush declared. Though the vaguely sexual imagery unnerved some, many felt that this was one of the most successful of the president’s many...Read more...


Anywhere: Respected leader of one religious group assassinated by opposition fanatic

Duke Prosecutor Disbarred, Accepts New Position as National Scapegoat

Italian journalist rescued by elite force of plumbers wielding hammers

No, really, everyone will be dressing as a douchebag this Halloween



June 10, 2002

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Bouncing My Thoughts to You Off the Shimmering Moon

Back in my school days I was of truest retro nature, riding a camel to school in a day when all the kids rode dromedaries, or at least Malibus. Can you pluralize Malibu? Sounds like a sickly French school bus to me.

Bas Lurman or no Bas Lurman (though of course I prefer the former), I have to say that retro anything is a good excuse to wear the clothes you get off the old couples when you do those home invasion robberies. You agree, no? Not fewer than seven times have I had the fashion-savvy passerby comment upon my depression-era negligee and feather boa. But I have to admit that even I cringe at those old high school yearbook photos, thinking as I did at the time that I was posing for a Playboy spread. Quite the challenge for a young Wisconsin boy but we're of scrappy stock and suffer for our art.

And suffer we did! The episodes with Scrappy were the hardest Scooby Doos to watch, indeed. I always thought "Scooby Doo" sounded like something you find on your windshield after you get your car out of long-term parking at the airport. But still the courts would not hear my intellectual property suit, which was a shame since its pinstripes were exquisite. Am I getting through to you?

I'm so confused... if only Alex Trebek were here to help me out in my time of need…

-dissolve-

"Welcome to the show Stu, why don't you start us off and pick a category? Your choices are: "Kidd Rock's in My...Read more...


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March 3, 2003

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I've Met the Alleged Woman of My Dreams

You've caught me on cloud nine, good people! With my pants down. But I assure you I was just scratching it. I can't be distracted by masturbation and not even depressed by the implication—Rok Finger may have met the possible woman of his dreams!

I'm not getting too ahead of myself, I guarantee you. I'm not saying this is the woman I'm going to marry, or I'm sure it's a woman. But I've met a very charming, loving, supportive possible woman and I can't wait to find out more about her/him. Hopefully her. Not to put all my eggs in one basket, but I haven't been this in love with a woman (hopefully) since my late wife Arvelyn. That bitch was never on time.

And Molga is punctual! For six days in a row I showed up on time in the chat room and she was there, just when she said she'd be. We talked and talked and talked the night away! Conversation with Molga was like conversation with myself! But half the work. She's every bit as confident, traditional, paranoid, and angry as I am. It's like I've met myself, with breasts. Hopefully breasts. They look like breasts in the picture.

Yes, I've seen her face—and I'm a believer. I believe in love, like only a miniature, stodgy, past-his-prime man in love can believe! She's not classically lovely, like the Sphinx, but her nose has been worn off by time in the same fashion. She has a beautiful, large brow, heavy reddish cheeks like two slabs of raw pork, and a smile as big as her heart and as wide...Read more...


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Quote of the Day
“Upon being stopped by the Customs Officer during my trip to America, he asked: 'Have you anything to declare?' I burst forward, telling him, 'Only my genius!' I was promptly beaten to a piteous pulp and subjected to a humiliating search. Needless to say, they found my weed.”

-Wildman Oscar Davies
Fortune 500 Cookie
By next week you will not believe what passes for a blowjob these days. Guess how many quarters I have in my left pocket and I will be quite surprised. I said don't cauliflower last week? I did? That doesn't sound like something I'd say. Remember, trust no one. Including me. If you believe that, you're a fool.


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

View Past Columns
BY Albert Daddyton
11/10/2003
Murder in the Toolshed
The cold and rainy, miserable, in a non-judgmental way, London weather was in full effect. At 612 Putter Street, Lord Marbles Pissweather sat quietly in his drawing room, away from the nastiness outside, sawing eloquently on his instrument. Not at all a euphemism, he really had an instrument.

It was at this time I, his loyal assistant Cap'n Trails, called upon his abode. The sound of nipple-exciting music filled the abode. Doffing my hat, I leaned into the drawing room and nodded a greeting to Lord Pissweather.

"I say, Pissweather, good show with that violin."

He put it aside in disappointment, picking up his clever affectation, a Chinese fingertrap. "Yes, quite excellent violin playing, if I may say so myself," agreed Pissweather. "Unfortunately,...Read more...

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