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Legislators Mull National "Do Not Rape" List

August 18, 2003
Washington, D.C.
Junior Bacon
Defendant Kobe Bryant appears in court with his lawyer, who just finished a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats
U
.S. lawmakers, called on to help clear the murky waters of consent in sexual situations between adults, responded today with a plan to create the national “Do Not Rape” registry, a centralized list of American women who are officially not asking for it.

Inspired by the sensationalized rape charges brought against NBA superstar Kobe Bryant by an unnamed Colorado woman, the registry would provide a way for U.S. women to proactively opt-out of unwanted sexual encounters with any of the growing legion of clueless sexual predators populating America’s bars and dark alleys.

The proposed list would mirror the recently created “Do Not Call” registry and the impending “Do Not Spam” list, and would mandate that all men intending to have rough sex with strange...Read more...


Tom Cruise? Who gives a fuck already?

Anti-spam legislation to reduce spam-related deaths by 98%

Canine ID chip proves Scrappy didn't go to farm in country

U.S. bubonic plague plan hopelessly out of date



November 24, 2003

Click for Biography

Eat the Dog

"A man's home is his castle. Mine happens to be White Castle."

We've all been locked out of our houses or apartments or dumpsters before—not a week or month goes by we aren't evicted or simply lose our keys. Maybe you step out to get the neighbor's newspaper and the door slams behind you, then locks itself. Now you're standing bare-ass naked out in the hallway, or maybe in your neighbor's living room, and you can't get back in the house! Shit! Pardon my language.

Locked out is no problem. When you get locked into your house, that's when the shit hits the fan. Pardon my language. What do you do then? You can't call anybody for help from inside your own place. Unless you have a phone. Sure, you can open the window and yell for help, but the first time you start using profanity they'll just send cops to ticket you. You can't get the door open, and they'll only kick it down. Now you got a broke door.

I've been locked in before. It's not pretty. I don't want a broken door so it's usually a survival mission until the end of the month comes and the landlord shows up looking for the rent. Sometimes that could be as many as 60 days. That's a long time to live on whatever's in your refrigerator, or growing under it.

No one wants to think about it, but at some point you have to seriously consider eating the dog. It's only fair—if he could talk and wear clothes, he'd eat you. Don't think about making it a fair contest, like...Read more...


º Last Column: Love Delivered
º more columns


November 26, 2001

Click for Biography

A Three Hour Tour of Conspiracy

The other day I found myself sitting on the roof of my house, throwing outdated eggs at some old women who were taking their daily afternoon walk up the sidewalk across the street. One particularly well-flung egg ricocheted off the oldest woman's temple, striking a nerve cluster and causing her to completely lose bowel control in an extremely messy fashion all over my vegetarian neighbor's lawn. And the thing is, when the detox van showed up to take her to the drunk tank, all I could think was: "You know what? I think Ginger and Mary Ann were lesbians."

Practically all my life I've been nagged by the question of why anybody would want to get off of Gilligan's Island in the first place. They had great weather, a lagoon, plenty of food, and last but not least: two fine pieces of ass in Ginger and Mary Ann. Damn! You can bet your mini-skirted dollar that Omar Bricks would have been starting his own civilization in that sandy paradise. The tiny gene pool would surely have necessitated some serious wife-swapping, and you've always known Omar is down with that. Unless it involved either of the Howells, but my grade-school understanding of biology tells me that contingency wouldn't be very useful for procreation. The Professor on the other hand… well, that would be just for fun.

Now, I'm not saying everybody would like it there at first. I'm sure there were sand crabs and no TV and other hassles, and I'm sure everyone would get tired of the Professor...Read more...


º Last Column: You're Welcome, Homeless Orphans
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Quote of the Day
“No man is an island. But I have met several women I would like to live on for the rest of my life.”

-John Donne Juan
Fortune 500 Cookie
By the pricking of my thumb I have really fucked up my keyboard playing. Trust in a higher power this week—the Waffle King knows what he's doing. Why be merely happy when you could be shit-yer-drawers happy? The world is you oyster, which explains that nauseating fish smell you can't escape. Lucky hammers roofing, jack, ball peen, MC.


Try again later.
Top Iraqi Gratitude Slogans
1.I love America and dying!
2.USA! Broil in hell, USA!
3.All the beautiful shooting!
4.God Bless This Rubble
5.Sweet, legless liberation!
Last IssueLast Issues Lead News Story

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

View Past Columns
BY Chase Spergen
2/17/2003
The Walrus Said
The time has come,
the walrus said,
to smoke a box of crack.

Fucking walrus!
Stay out of my drug box,
and you're standing on my sack!

Don't make me cook you
in hot whale oil
for absconding with my stash!

Your constant questions
and oblique riddles
are giving me a rash!

The time has come,
the walrus said,
to eat some more grilled cheese.

Fuck you walrus!
You ate all my red hots!
Now get out of the refrigerator please!

You weren't invited!
You are not wanted!
Just take a hint and leave!

And don't think I can't
see you over there,
blowing your nose on my sleeve!

The time has come,...Read more...

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