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Today’s Hurricanes Not Worth a Damn, Say Elderly SouthernersSeptember 26, 2005
Galveston, TX
Whit Pistol
Elderly Texans line up to tell stories about the unbelievable hurricanes of yore
I
n the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, and the currentmath of Hurricane Rita hot on Katrina’s high heels, elderly southerners who’ve been there before are offering a reassuring voice of bitter calm to troubled Americans across the South.

“Today’s hurricanes aren’t worth a hot goddamn,” groused Boca Raton resident Carter Dunlop, 88. “You all can quit your bellyaching. Back in the day, we had hurricanes to remember. I don’t recall their names or any details, but you can rest assured these latest pipsqueaks are even less noteworthy. Trust me, you’ll all hear Carter Dunlop scream like a woman when a real hurricane hits.”

“Category 5? Pssh, they’ll call any old stiff breeze a hurricane nowadays,” griped Biloxi native Ted Knuck. “Back in...Read more...


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August 5, 2002

Click for Biography

Invisible

"When I was a young boy, I believed I could make myself invisible at will. Whenever I was stuck in a predicament that called for not being seen, or else was just in the mood to go invisible on a lark, I would squint my eyes closed as tight as I could and hold my breath until I saw multi-colored sparks and small explosions in the darkness before me. Soon after I would hear a loud popping noise, and that's when I knew I was invisible.

I did it the first time when I was four, out of some kind of collective unconscious instinct response. My mother came home unexpectedly from the store to find me naked in the kitchen, covering myself with papier mache made from pictures I'd cut out of the lingerie section of the Sears catalog. In a panic I clenched my eyes shut, and to my surprised delight heard my mother searching around the house, asking "Where's Sampson?" and "Have you seen Sampson?" while I invisibly ran out to the back yard and hid inside a discarded tire.

My talent for going invisible came in handy over the years. I used it sparingly whenever mom caught me with a girl in my room or I was pulled over for driving under the influence. I'm sure mom and dad had to wonder why naked girls kept sneaking into my bed while I was out, or how my car drove itself into a ditch so many times, but I don't think they paid it much mind since they had their hands full with Goose's Tourette's Syndrome, which at the time was known as Sailor's Mouth.

When I...Read more...


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September 16, 2002

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Just Leave Me a Clone

With all the fervor about cloned cats and cloned pigs and cloned sheep burping too much methane gas into the atmosphere lately, we've almost forgotten to consider the inevitable future of sci-fi bullshit come true: human cloning. Fertility researching eggheads have announced that an impotent husband's DNA sample fuel-injected into his wife's attention-starved egg can result in her giving birth to an exact clone of the husband, lousy slacking-off sperm and all. No shit! And word on the street is that human cloning has already occurred, and that they're a boy band named O-town. I've never heard of them, but I wouldn't put it past whoever would be in charge of that kind of thing.

Some are calling this the next frontier, as they talk into women's leg razors painted black and make strange hand signals to their other dorky friends. Personally, I think they've jumped the gun a bit: I say the real future is in celebrity cloning. What woman wouldn't pay through the nose to have her son turn out like Robert Redford instead of her boring husband, who's a nice guy and all, and has a great head of hair… on his back! Yeeeeick. I think the number may run in the millions.

Because of this, you have to assume we're going to see a booming market in confiscated celebrity biological material in the future. You won't be able to go to a benefit for Tibetan date rape victims or a boat show without seeing people fist fighting like wild dogs over discarded celebrity...Read more...


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Quote of the Day
“May those who love us, love us, and those who don't love us, may God turn their hearts, and if he doesn't turn their hearts, may he fuck them up so I'll know not to trust cripples.”

-Old Irish Proverb, Jr.
Fortune 500 Cookie
That weird smell in the office: It's you, dude. Stay out of the sun this week at your doctor's request; he's tired of seeing you shirtless. This week's lucky prom dates: Mom's hot friend "Aunt" Chyniqua, Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig, a randomly selected pro wrestler, entire cast of Revenge of the Nerds, or six of the seven dwarves: Sneezy's got cancer.


Try again later.
Worst-Selling Breakfast Cereals
1.Scroats!
2.Branimal Crackers
3.Frosted Mini-Thins
4.Too Much Fibre
5.Vitamin Pill Crunch
6.Unlucky Leprechaun Pocket Fuzz
7.Byproducts
8.Easter Peeps in Milk (milk included)
9.You’ve Got Crabs
10.Beano: The Cereal
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 Zanzibar McNally
4/11/2005
My Love is Like an Orange
My Love is Like an Orange,
all shiny and orange
and filled with a citrus burst
to quench your lonely thirst.

My love is not like porridge
or storage
or forage

For my love is like an orange
and…

Bugger, nothing rhymes with orange.

Nevermind.

My Love is Like Silver
lightning-quick and quite valuable
but with great heat it is malleable
to the shape of your heart
or at least the romantic heart-shape as it commonly appears
since a real heart-shape would just look weird.

My love is not like a sliver
or pilfer
or Dilbert

For my love is like silver
and…

Fuck me twice!

My Love is Like a...Read more...

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