Tag Archives: Funny Shit

Michael Jackson’s nose is gone – No one surprised

Considering the News…

Michael Jackson is a man of confidence. A selfless guy. One who captivates a room of any size, no matter how many stars grace the floor. He teaches us that vanity is by no means a virtue, and for that we are all better people.

Thus, we praise not only his music catalog but look to him for guidance in navigating this cruelest of worlds. That a man of unmatched talent and unrivaled stardom should turn to plastic surgery seemingly every other week can only mean one thing – he is showing us the path to spiritual liberation.

The entire Jackson family is comprised of upstanding citizens and role models, strong-willed folks who put humanity and goodness before selfish wants and desires.

But only Michael could make such a prolific sacrifice – his cherished nose. Sad reports are surfacing and the outlook is grim. It appears Michael’s frequent trips under the knife have finally got the best of him, and a ruthless skin disease threatens the lovely little nose we have come to accept as a vision of perfection.

Because of Michael I will seek a more perfect face. Because of him I will have no rhinoplasty no matter how large and ominous my nose might often seem. Because of him I have seen the light, and there is a fine nose beneath it.

It is the nose given to me at birth. The nose god meant for me to have. And for that I shall never face the dire day when I have no nose at all.

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The Colonel’s fried chicken secret is safe – Plus, why nobody cares

Considering the News…

Fried chicken enthusiasts can rest easy today, thanks to comforting reports the beloved KFC recipe has at last been safely transported and secured in a secret vault somewhere in the enchanted hills of Kentucky.

Learning the exact contents of this hand-written document – penned by the mystical Colonel himself – has sent fried chicken impersonators through the depths of hell, as countless combinations have failed in the honorable quest of authentically replicating the mythical 11-herb mixture.

Few things have incited greater culinary madness through the ages, with some comparing the importance of the scintillating chicken recipe to that of Jesus’ bread, Emeril’s Caribbean-style chicken, and Bo Jackson’s signature BO Burger.

Naturally, every precaution was taken in transporting the historical document – with many security guards and a handcuff briefcase involved in the covert mission – before it was finally laid to rest in a high-tech vault that will be guarded around the clock by living personnel. And thank God for that.

At any given time, but only two living KFC executives harness the dear privilege of knowing the full recipe, which no doubt qualifies them both for the ‘Luckiest Damn Person Alive Competition’ held annually in Waukee, Iowa.

Merely disclosing a single element of the recipe means instant death by way of the guillotine, a long-standing Kentucky law that has surely survived many Supreme Court challenges, as it is no secret Rehnquist loved nothing more than a late-night bucket of crispy and succulent fried chicken.

Yes, this 68-year-old legend of a recipe is poised to remain a well-kept treasure for at least another 10 years, when slumping sales inspire KFC executives to move the document yet again, to any even bigger vault, with even more human security guards – reminding Americans the Colonel’s chicken is still accessible at your local KFC chain store.Today. And right now.

I myself haven’t eaten the filth in years. Maintaing a good cholesterol level just doesn’t allow for it, I’m afraid. Plus, the grocery store fried chicken tastes just as good, if not much better.

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Octuplets move to mystery mansion – Plus, why everyone with six kids should have another eight

Considering the News…

Scintillating details of the California octuplets remain shrouded in mystery, now four days removed from the babies’ removal from the mother’s womb.

Traditionally patient and polite news media is growing uncharacteristically anxious. Many pressing questions remain unanswered. What are their names? Who are the eight fathers? Are they Clippers or Lakers fans?

Yet the family is proceeding with painstaking secrecy and caution, striving to protect the anonymity of these eight little miracles, and paying no mind to the joyful reporters calmly seeking an interview.

The latest rumor seasoning this savory story is word the parents already have six little miracles – meaning their humble home has now contributed 14 healthy and happy and necessary additions to the otherwise scarcely populated state of California.

Unfortunately, heartless skeptics now wrongly question the family’s sincerity, speculating the true incentive for breeding eight little miracles simultaneously is an unbridled desire for fame and undeserved gifts. But that’s not the honest Christian thing to do, now is it.

Representing this batch of miracles is the grandfather ( identifying himself as Ed), who has offered few guarantees or promises thus far, aside from leaking word of a huge mystery mansion existing somewhere in the remote hills of the countryside, well beyond the mental and physical limits of lazy media members.

There, he says, his two dozen or so grandchildren will live in unchallenged secrecy, never bothering with the unworthy outside world. That 16 miracles can move anywhere in this country without anyone noticing is a relatively common feat destined for absolute, unhindered success. They will probably never be found, seen, or heard from again.

They certainly will never stoop to repeating the same trite interview again and again for any TV station agreeing to donate to the college fund, a college fund that will undoubtedly go toward the octuplets’ education alone, and not to any extravagant trips or boats or new cars or an even bigger mystery mansion in the even more remote hills of the countryside.

I wish the family only the absolute best. A great service they have done for the world. Think of how much less crime there would be if every family with six children made the admirable decision to take fertility drugs (true story) and have another eight.

We can only wonder how many less cars would be on the road. How much food everyone would have. How much cheaper college tuition would be. How many less people would be on welfare. How many more people would be employed. How many more people would be able to visit Wal-Mart and buy Chinese toys and appliances.

Indeed, we can only wonder.

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Rod Blagojevich: Public Menace, National Hero, or Both? Plus a brief list of things that under no circumstances can be sold on the otherwise open market

Considering the News…

Embattled Illinois Governor and renowned public ass Rod Blagojevich fancies himself to be somewhat of a hero.

Actually, that statement does him no justice whatsoever. Many apologies to his family for selling the man so short.

He fancies himself to be one of the most prolific and undeniably great heroes in American history – make that world history while we’re at it – a stalwart supporter of due process, civil liberties, and everything that is right and just in the universe.

This righteous man, one of the humblest you could hope to meet,  freely compares himself to Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King Jr. and Ghandi. Yes, I know. That Ghandi.

And rightly so.  These fine gentlemen were imprisoned for their persistence and pursuit of spreading revolutionary ideals. Blago is being impeached for corruption.

These profound men inspired millions, spawned mass movements and permanently transformed antiquated public opinions. Blago sacrificed his dignity so late night talk show hosts might never again suffer a shortage of hair jokes.

These selfless men endured the brutal wrath of millions, faced endless death threats, and bared the burden of so many, all in hopes of leaving behind a more tolerant world. Blago skipped the opening of his Senate impeachment hearings to go on “The View” and condemn unfair trials to Barbara Walters.

Because Rod Blagojevich is a veritable man of the people. Always has been, really.

“I’m talking to Americans to let them know what’s happening in the land of Lincoln,” he said so valiantly. “If they can do it to a governor, they can do it to you.”

Transcendent words from a brilliant man. If they can do it to a governor, they can do it to you. Any of you!

That most Americans never have the opportunity to appoint a U.S. Senator doesn’t undermine his point, it reinforces it.

That most Americans have never been caught on federal wiretaps attempting to sell such an appointment to the highest bidder doesn’t compromise his defense, it only endears him to the state senators charged by the citizens of Illinois to deliver a fair verdict.

There is much to learn from the Rod Blagojevich saga. Thoughts on traditional common sense and ethics have been forever altered.  For that we must thank the man. Even if he is no hero, he is still the delusional ass with a silly haircut who reminded Americans that a free market doesn’t necessarily mean everything is for sale. Just one more thing to teach my kids one day.

Things that under no circumstances can be sold on the otherwise open market (In order of my learning them):

1. Anything belonging to my sister, with extra emphasis on her internal organs.

2. Any automobile not immediately belonging to me, with extra emphasis on automobiles rightfully owned by my parents.

3. Any small child, with extra emphasis on children entrusted to you by parents paying for services from the daycare you may or may not be employed at.

4. Any sexual favors, with extra emphasis on favors you are not readily willing to perform but are eagerly awaiting to be performed by women you may or may not have met on random street corners.

5. Any federal appointments, with extra emphasis on any federal appointment discussed in a room where federal wiretaps may or may not be present.

As is always the case, this list is amendable at any time. Thanks again for your submission, Rod.

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President Bush delivers inspiring farewell speech – Few listen and some laugh uproariously

Considering the News…

President George W. Bush delivered a heart-warming, belly-tingling, buns-tickling farewell to the nation yesterday, and I’m both alarmed and appalled that this magnanimous leader – general of all things mighty, admiral of all that is right – was given second ticket to an airplane landing in the Hudson River of all places.

Never mind that America has gone terror free since that infamous September day back in 2001. No, we wouldn’t want to pay Sir Bush any gratitude for that startling accomplishment. And that’s to mention nothing of the sweeping social progress in Afghanistan and Iraq, where swimming pools and McDonald’s restaurants are being built daily. I know, right, we’re bringing recreation and exquisite dining to the Middle East and still lacking is the litany of cards thanking Bush for his heroic labors.

And did I mention this airplane incident didn’t even amount to any fatalities? What happened to the old “Blood leads” creed that has been an indisputable ratings booster since the inception of this thing television? What happened to sticking to your guns, both figuratively and literally? Why, George Bush has over 4,000 gruesome deaths on his watch, and still he can’t even get 13 uninterrupted minutes to bid us farewell.

That American media is in shambles, faltering, sinking, capsizing with a torrent crash, need not be said. And now we know why. In lieu of the traditional blood and guts that endeared a country so obsessively to one medium, the news media chose a deathless plane ride that ended with pictures of people cruising safely across the Hudson River in boats.

Well, if America desires feel-good sunshine stories over the bungled artistry of a master manipulator like George W. Bush, then I say good riddance to the whole blasted thing. Here we have one of the most extraordinary criminal minds of our time hanging up his crowbar and wiretap, and we do no more than sit idly by, sharing trivial God bless Americas because some fortunate citizens managed to ride on a plane and boat in the same hour.

I give up.

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Economy Down but Chlamydia Up – Fair Trade Off

Considering the News…

Having grown weary from the exhaustive news coverage of our economy being in shambles and  the fate of everyone essentially being doomed, I was more than pleased to learn chlamydia is surging like a blind horse in heat.

One can read about new record  lows only so many times before he goes madly insane, so this recent report that America’s favorite venereal disease is on the up and up comes at an ideal time. That this economic turmoil has incited a myriad of suicides but hasn’t yet extinguished our desire to have rampant, unprotected, hate sex is just the good news we need right now.

To be quite blunt, I was dangerously close to losing my wits prior to learning of the unparalleled promiscuity and debauchery spreading joy in America. Trudging through an endless stream of depression stories, I likely risked sacrificing my own good heart, clear conscience and generally affable nature before much longer. Something, needless to say, I wasn’t incredibly excited about enduring.

So fortunately my playful dreams will be disrupted by the economic horror stories no longer. Sunshine stories still do come along every now and again. They still do come along.

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Tim Tebow, future President of the United States?

Considering the News…

I’m now convinced Florida Gators football superstar, American legend, and Christian goodfella, Tim Tebow, will be President a day not too far from today. No doubts. No reservations about that one.

The guy exudes confidence. Spouts leadership. Is to charisma what Amy Winehouse is to crackheads – the definition.

Now some will say, hey, what about him being born in the Philippines? No way he can be President. Just not constitutional. Can’t happen.

Well, such minutiae, no matter how damning, is never impugn to the smearing and twisting of a genuine spin doctor – at least not one worth his or her weight in venom and wax. Was Barack Obama born within domestic borders? Kenya? Malaysia? Hawaii? Ah, who cares, the guy weaves rhetorical gold at the podium. The same will hold true for Florida’s chosen son, the natural hybrid of Abe Lincoln and Johnny Unitas.

Then some will say, hey, the guy’s like 21 years old. That’s way too young to be President.

Yes, such restrictions can hinder progress at times. But what about the Chinese Olympic Gymnastics team? Talent can make 12 the new 16 with few hardships when the right people rework the script. Thus I’m confident Tebow can smile and fist-pump his way to 40 in no time. Little effort required, to say the least.

Then some might say, hey, can he even win any southern state other than Florida after pummeling their football teams every year for seemingly an entire decade?

Football is next to religion down south, and Tebow’s dominance makes him somewhat of a demagogue in the region. Touchdowns are the new doctrine, you see. He’ll sweep every state by at least 95-5, with the other 5 percent going to Mike Huckabee and Jeb Bush.

So there you have it, Tim Tebow is destined to become President. No force, formidable as it may be, is going to impede his mystical ascension to the pinnacle of national prominence. Not even  a few minor rules and technicalities can stop him. Maybe not even Jesus.

Ok, probably Jesus. But nothing else.

Either way, I can’t imagine voting for him. Can’t stand the Gators.

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