August 2015: Vacationers from Chicago leave their modular rental unit and
carefully walk down to the screening pads at Malibu Beach to be checked by
radiation specialists. Adjacent to a wrecked oil tanker museum, this radiation
fallout resort gets heavy traffic from Midwestern travelers who want to have
ocean fun in the blazing sun without suffering any ill effects from dangerous
radiation levels. Their newly issued protective vulcanized sunbathing uniforms
are designed to handle moderate days like this. Toroki Hamasaki and his family
hope this seaside adventure will give them cherished memories to help ease
their pain of being forced to relocate from their home in Tokyo two years ago
due to extremely dangerous levels of radiation which made most prefectures
uninhabitable. Today's monitored atmosphere is classified as "acceptably not
too hazardous" so Toroki is eager to take lots of photos to send to his aunts
and uncles who were relocated to a Brazilian rain forest where they earn their
living carving chopsticks for Chinese restaurants in Argentina. Days with normal
radiation levels allow commerce and tourism to continue as usual in this area of
southern California. However, on occasion when radiation levels spike extremely
high, everyone must remain indoors under quarantine until strong winds dissipate
contaminated fallout over the wastelands of northern Mexico. Toroki Hamasaki
hopes to see some glowing fish or maybe a crab like he did last year during the
same weekend PETA members had staged a protest against killing contaminated
sea urchins but were captured by mad Malibu militants and buried alive under the
sandy shoreline before the advent of high tide. The latest US Coast Guard report
indicates only neon sharks and manta rays are in the vicinity. Although lesser fish
species died off many months ago, their countless skeletons littering the ocean
bottom provide an eerie fluorescent glow easily seen at night when the ocean's
surface is flat and calm. If Toroki is lucky, he might see a bloated whale floating
far offshore. Toroki misses the taste of fresh ocean fish which unfortunately were
all declared inedible and poisonous after massive radiation leaks in Japan's nuclear
reactors spilled seaside and contaminated the entire Pacific Ocean. His wife Ayumi
just wants to relax and work on her tan using the latest high intensity radiation
screening block UV-RAD-9000. Her only real concern is that seagulls could plop
sticky radioactive poop on her protective suit, but such dung droppings could not
burn holes through the material unlike earlier protective suits which were so inef-
fective that huge lawsuits forced American clothing manufacturers to cease using
cheap Chinese crap and switch back to high quality Japanese materials proven to
have been durable during the great nuclear reactor meltdown several years earlier.
Little Hidete Hamasaki is eager to dig in the sand with his neutron scooper and build
nuclear reactor sand towers, then pretend he is Gojira and smash them to bits as he
roars and stomps tiny Japanese maintenance workers into bloody pulp. Boys will be
boys. After spending their allocated time on the crusty beach and splashing around
in murky brown salt water within the Low Rad Zone, they will be decontaminated
before reentry into their modular rental unit. Later this evening the Hamasaki family
plans enjoy a tasty synthetic meal of artificial sushi, shrimp and seaweed soup made
from genetically modified flavor-enhanced tangy test tube tofu. When their vacation
is over, they will return with wonderful memories to the bombed-out ruins of Chicago.
Hidete might even bring several collected seashells for his school class presentation
of Glow & Tell if TSA airport scanners indicate acceptable levels of residual radiation
and allow his mollusk souvenirs to be taken onboard for their long flight back home.
Californians are conditioned to cope with the ever possible mostly probable and
fatalistically inevitable sudden seismic shifts known as earthquakes. Even expert
seismologists are often confounded at the timing of when these terran imbalances
will occur, so it is always best to prepare for the worst and hope for the best while
also looking your best. This is widely known by avant-garde American Goths, and
we have designed specialized stylish GothGrip garments to meet your needs when
dealing with diagonally tilting floors and uncontrollable sliding objects during earth-
quaking emergencies. GothGrip is far superior to Velcro and other clingable clothing
materials because GothGrip has micro barbs which snag onto any outdoor surfaces
and indoor flooring whether carpeted, tiled, wooden or concrete, thereby allowing
your body to get a firm stabilizing grip without slipping, similar to the abilities of big
hairy spiders that easily climb your bed's headboard above your pillow while you are
sound asleep. Our most popular GothGrip color is basic black, but we also stock neo-
black, black death, megadeath, undertaker, grim reaper, Victorian vampire, Bela L,
puke punk and other fashionable alternatives. Use of GothGrip garments requires no
special preparation or intelligence. Thus, you could be totally wasted three sheets to
the wind or hallucinating about parasitic worms burrowing twisting tunnels into your
brain and yet still survive without painful internal injuries-- from the earthquakes of
course. Whatever pain you wish to gain is your own personal business. Our business
is to give you the chance to survive earthquakes and let you do your own thing for
yet another day. When an earthquake begins, simply go with the flow, then slowly
and steadily feel your way to safety. There is no need to remain out in the open as
an easy target for heavy falling objects and sharp projectiles flung through the air
like an intense 3D martial arts movie. During undulating moments when the seismic
shifting is precarious, we advise that you get your schitt together if possible and
join your GothGrip clothed limbs to form a handy human daisy chain linking every-
one until the disturbing shaking stops and the delightful shopping can recommence,
hopefully with some excellent price markdowns due to quake damaged merchandise.
Try our delicious freshwater fish on sale today! Buy one, get one free!
Buy two or more pairs and get each second coupling for just half price!
Great savings on tilapia and other conjoined* species! A double value
and super deal for fish head soup! Feed unused leftovers to your cats!
*These conjoined fish are genetically modified and carefully bred in Chinese fish farms maintained by
model prisoners. Our fish are fed pellets containing nitrogen enriched recycled feces with absolutely no
trans fat. Preparation and cooking times may take longer than usual to remove all accumulated toxins.
Lola Palooski and her daughter Beloonda enjoy riding their compact submersible
gliders through saltwater, startling aquatic creatures that quickly dart and scurry
away from the bubbly duo to hide among seaweed and rocks. Lola is thrilled to be
on her first underwater adventure and feels as young and lively as her daughter,
who does not feel the same way because she is alarmed at the large gray shark
following closely behind them. Lola is completely unaware of this danger because
she is delightedly watching beautifully colored fish swimming in shifting schools.
Directly ahead Lola sees a tall vertical barrier and motions to Beloonda to make
a left turn to avoid hitting it. Nearby a large curious crowd has gathered to watch
as a team of trained scuba divers prepares to jump into the deep water and put a
stop to this flagrant policy violation of unauthorized visitors piloting submersible
machines inside the enormous marine aquarium glass tank at the San Diego Zoo.
Tricked by an evil technomage who transformed unsuspecting space travelers
into squirrels and dropped them in a city park before navigating their spaceship
away from Earth, the three stranded mercenaries began fighting amongst them-
selves since each blamed the others for foolishly walking into the chamber of the
biomass metamorphotron in the cargo hold because the technomage said that it
required immediate inspection due to inconsistent calibration signals transmitted
to his mobile receiver. The three upset crew members should stop fighting, accept
that they were duped by a simple ruse and instead band together to defend them-
selves against the large pit bull running toward their arena of contention. However,
being trapped in strangely unfamiliar small squirrel bodies, they are unaware of this
imminent danger because they are too engrossed in learning how best to brandish
their weapons using tiny clawed paws counterbalanced with huge bushy tails, and
not being true squirrels, they lack essential rodent instinct to climb the nearest tree
for safety beyond the reach of the dog's menacing jaws, but it won't matter anyway
if they ascend because they are doomed, for three big buzzards above are intently
watching their comical squabbling below with anticipation of tasty tree rat tidbits.
"Greetings, friends. My name is Sidney Fairskin, and I sell precious metals. Are you
concerned about rising food and fuel prices? Do you worry about potential losses on
your long-term stocks and bonds? Would you like to secure your wealth in tangible
investments you can touch and control? My smart solution is to buy precious metals
as a solid investment to enhance your portfolio and retirement plans. I specialize in
precious metal piercings including copper, silver, gold and platinum, but I can obtain
any metal you desire such as common alloys and aluminium. I love precious metals.
They are an essential part of my being, and I just can't get enough! When I was a
toddler, I used to swallow copper pennies and silver dimes I found on the ground.
As a boy I would glue the shiniest coins on my face, but when other kids stole them,
I got smart and stashed my precious pieces in piggy banks which is what old Gollum
should have done with his Precious. Whenever I had a tooth cavity, I did odd jobs
until I could pay my dentist to have it filled with gold. My rare metal coin collection
is the envy of numismatic experts. My house contains priceless precious metal items
of fine art from every country. But enough about me. What about you? If you have
a true passion for collecting precious metals like I do, then you can enhance your
face and other body parts at the same time you enhance your portfolio! It is really
quite exciting! Be unique and express yourself with precious metal piercings and
implants. As we body modification specialists are fond of saying, 'no pain, no gain'.
Keep your wealth on yourself and flaunt your riches. You have the selfish right as
a greedy materialistic American to have it all! Get pierced and you can take it to the
grave! I hope to hear from you soon before precious metal prices shoot to the moon!"
Inexperienced intern research assistants panicked when a federally funded study
on the innate curiosity of chimpanzees went out of control during the visual test
"Where's Waldo?" which provoked the monkeys to search extensively throughout
the research facility in their zealous hunt to find Waldo, eventually leading them to
the central computer systems complex which they besieged in a frantic attempt to
google online for Waldo's whereabouts since he was nowhere to be found within the
premises even though they had crawled through air ventilation ducts, emptied office
desk drawers and cabinets, tossed opened books through unopened windows and
unraveled every roll of toilet paper in the lavatories just because it was loads of fun.
Unfortunately their bare-knuckled keyboard inquisition totally corrupted the research
center's computer database and brought in local authorities to stage a massive wide
manhunt for AWOL Waldo. Police officials angrily declared that whenever they find
this troublemaker named Waldo, he will be in hot water and forced to answer a lot
of self-incriminating questions. The chimpanzees who had gone apeschitt earlier in
the day were unavailable for comment because they were securely back in their zoo
quarters having completely forgotten about Waldo after they concluded it was just
a trick question and are now focused on munching peanuts while watching old Tarzan
movies, tossing empty shells at growling lions and razzing Cheeta for his bad acting.
The Department of Homeland Security has ordered the Transportation Security
Administration to conduct test pat-downs on all infants in an effort to thwart
contraband smuggling of illegal drugs, jewelry, precious metals, implanted sub-
cutaneous devices of unknown origin and weapons of mass destruction that
they are certain must be occurring frequently when mothers bring unchecked
bundled infants aboard airplanes, although at this point they have not yet fully
determined the best way to pat down babies without mothers overreacting and
going totally whoopass on their workers. DHS and TSA officials realize this is a
very sensitive issue, but the safety and security of the American people are at
stake, and they cannot afford to overlook potential baby bombs during these
days of terrorists engaging in suspicious activities everywhere. Although angry
opponents persistently claim the Transportation Security Administration is delib-
erately violating the rights of those newly born, TSA officials counter that babies
are too ignorant to know if they are being abused by terrorists, especially those
with maternal bonds, and because they have not demanded legal counsel it must
be okay even if they cry as they do that all the time anyway just to get attention.
There once was a curious blonde,
who had a new thinking cap donned;
invention infused,
her mind was amused
by intriguing conundrums beyond.
Of fanciful flights she was fond;
what once was a puddle, now pond;
but her cap sprang a leak
when she started to speak;
now she's stuck back on basic bland blonde.
Katering King is proud to recognize our employee of the month, Gus Grumple of
Atlanta. Gus is one of our most requested employees to cater big parties, family
reunions, random social events and weddings. He is a hit at outdoor barbecues
and hoedowns when he arrives wearing his lucky pink pig costume. As a gesture
of good will, Gus has decided he will expand his catering skills to service American
Muslims. Gus believes that followers of Islam in the USA have been given a bad rap
by other Americans due to their gross ignorance and unfounded prejudices, and in
his heart he feels he can make a difference for a better tomorrow by doing his best
today. Gus was raised on a pig farm and grew up to love all things pig. He named
every pig according to personality and taught the brightest piglets tricks which he
used to entertain local folks at the county fair. Later when he married and his wife
Petunia had her large litter, he named each child after the nicknames he had given
to his favorite childhood pigs. Of course, Gus has new pigs as pets in the Grumple
household, and they are treated as part of the family. Gus is an expert cook and
knows literally thousands of recipes, specializing in delicious mouthwatering pork
dishes. Gus can entertain listeners for hours on end reciting countless fascinating
facts, stories and jokes about pigs. The reason Gus believes he can bond with the
Muslim community is because he speaks fluent Arabic and Farsi, so he can easily
communicate with Sunni and Shiite clients about customary ethnic foods and non-
alcoholic beverages they desire for special occasions. Gus is also a multitalented
entertainer and can do magic tricks such as pulling burning Qurans out of turbans.
Gus is a licensed puppeteer and hopes to show little Muslim children performances
of his cute pig puppets Huggy, Tubby, Flubbit and Orlando. Gus is an accomplished
pig caller and is eager to impress his first Muslim clients with his sooey pig call that
sounds almost identical to a muadhin's call to daily Muslim prayer. We at Katering
King are proud to have Gus catering to our customers throughout Georgia, and this
shows what excellent taste we have! Use Katering King, you'll love what we bring!
A federal research study analyzed the habits of Congressional staff members and
concluded that nine out of ten staff members chose to power nap while attending
mandatory seminars on listening skills. Categorically, four out of ten staff members
were sleeping off intense hangovers, three out of ten were very tired from staying
up all night watching Internet porn, two out of ten were extremely exhausted from
their duties serving as escorts for rambunctious randy Congressmen, and one out
of ten was awake only because NoDoz pills had been taken by mistake instead of
Xanax. Unsurprisingly, ten out of ten Congressional staff members stated that this
research was an unwarranted waste of taxpayers' money because the public has
no right to know how they spend their time serving Congress, and they demanded
a new federal research study be conducted to overturn the results even if it meant
altering the subsequent statistics. Consequently, ten out of ten Congressional staff
members requested two months paid leave of absence to deal with the emotional
trauma of the original research study, but two out of ten could not qualify for time
off because they had long-term contractual obligations as Congressional escorts.
--------------- FOR IMMEDIATE SALE: PARTIAL DEAD CLOWN ---------------
Found in an abandoned dumpster behind Twisted Sisters' Ding-A-Ling Circus,
this dead clown is missing his legs and naughty bits but is otherwise complete
including his funny bone which was stuck inside a hilarious maroon rubber party
balloon yet still in excellent condition! Dead clowns are rare finds seldom seen
by the general public. As a matter of fact, if my mutt had not been howling and
clawing at a rusty leaking dumpster while I was trying to break into an adjacent
storage shed, I never would have found it! This partial dead clown is truly one of
a kind. Maybe your kind. Muahahaha! The initial eBay auction price is only $1.00.
Shipping and handling costs will vary depending upon your location and any local
ordinances forbidding possession of deceased circus freaks. Therefore, if you are
open to potential legal problems, please do not bid! However, if you are one of us,
make a stealth bid during the final seconds before the auction listing's close to win,
and I will arrange a clandestine rendezvous during nightfall at a secure and remote
site free from surveillance. Bid early and bid often! This dead clown needs no coffin!
City engineers have become greatly alarmed over disturbing developments
of urban blight in the extreme cases where condemned buildings of illustrious
generational residence have committed suicide due to very low self-esteem,
unexpectedly killing their entrapped tenants rather than facing the humiliating
public exposure of being evacuated, gutted, abandoned and unceremoniously
destroyed by remotely detonated explosives. Architects have been urgently
consulted in efforts to prevent future premature collapses and fatalities, but
they are powerless to control towering implosions of baseless self-loathing.
Firemen and EMS units are increasingly reluctant to answer emergency calls
at old high-rises because they are unwilling and unable to cope with poorly
constructed stories building to sudden traumatic climaxes. Local insurance
companies are refusing to insure aged buildings unless they receive concrete
guarantees of cornerstone integrity. On an optimistic note, city engineers are
pleased to report suburban reconstruction is booming but in a nonlethal way.
"Hello, boys and girls and grumpy old people. Did you get the change you
were promised? Were your hopes fulfilled? If not, then do you still hope for
a brighter future if your incumbent president is reelected? If your answer
is 'yes', then there is no need to worry, just drink your Kool-Aid and smile;
but if your answer is 'no', then he will give you a break, that is, the choice
of which bone you want broken to escape from the trap in which you have
been placed. Panicking frantically will cause multiple fractures that let you
escape quicker from the spinning blades and other deadly weapons of mass
laceration, but if you remain calm, steady and ready to change your mind
to obey him unconditionally, you can free yourself with just one simple snap.
No pain, no gain. If you survive this life-changing test with minimal blood loss,
you will be covered by the national health care plan. Let the game begin..."
"You know, Hobbes, I'm beginning to think chain reaction
explosions are an unnecessary waste of time and effort if
just a single megablast will do the trick. Tomorrow I'll set up
a big one on a different used auto lot to see if my hunch is
correct. Don't forget to bring Dad's camcorder. We might get
a great clip of the dealer running around with his hair on fire."
In some backwater boondocks of rural America where country folks are
isolated from advanced medical care available only in distant cities and
skilled doctors are scarcer than tree frog feathers, farmers are frequently
forced to use primitive home remedies to handle emergencies such as in
this situation where Emilia Swillburn is worried that her husband Erasmus
may not be adequately trained to handle behavioral modification on their
wildly temperamental bull Snort, who is highly unlikely to remain calm and
motionless while Erasmus uses a long wooden handle with long metal tines
and his quick reflexive actions to perform a bovine lobotomy. In hard times
like these when one wrong move can spell disaster, Emilia wishes she had
one of those newfangled icebox freezers for long-term storage in case the
barnyard operation on Snort is unsuccessful because with all of her teeth
missing she has no desire to spend long painful hours gumming beef jerky.
John and Josh Tupperdish of Atlanta decided it was best not to take a shortcut down through the
abandoned hiking trail because although massive spiderwebs blocking the winding path could be
easily brushed away by extending broken branches, stepping around dangling cocooned skeletal
remains of birds and squirrels felt creepy, but not as frightfully unnerving as the twisted wrapped
corpse of a park ranger clutching a punctured can of bug repellent. Recalling the Boy Scout motto
"Always Be Prepared", the Tupperdish brothers quickly pulled out their notepads and nervously
jotted down some helpful hints for making really scary haunted house decorations for their next
Halloween party before heading back up the main trail out of range of the gigantic arachnid that
peered from its shadowy webbed lair as it angrily hissed at missing a large double course meal.
Binky the Clown wished he had never won Nom-Nom in a late night poker game at the Freak Show.
After Roly Poly the Fat Lady had folded her cards, Stumpette the Dwarf Ballerina Vampire demanded
to play one final round, so because Binky knew he held a winning hand, he put in his money with the
remaining players, but since Newt the Limbless Salamander Boy had no more money, he used his pet
Nom-Nom as his final bet. Binky won the poker game and profuse gratitude from Newt. Stumpette
bared her fangs as she grimaced. Binky carried Nom-Nom to his tent and crashed upon his lumpy
rubber balloon mattress. When Binky awoke with a clanging fire engine hangover in the morning, he
noticed his refrigerator had been opened and there were empty food containers scattered all across
the floor with an engorged Nom-Nom snoozing in the middle of the mess. That's when a realization
hit Binky like a truckload of frozen cream pies: Nom-Nom had a voracious appetite! Nom-Nom was
always hungry, and his insatiable urge to stuff his pudgy face compelled him to eat anything in sight
which looked remotely digestible, including Binky's TV remote, which was definitely not digestible.
After Nom-Nom vomited the remote on a rug, Binky discovered it was permanently stuck on the
Cooking Channel. Binky tried giving Nom-Nom away, but nobody would take the chubby chewer.
Binky tried abandoning Nom-Nom in Wal*Mart stores and shopping malls, but Nom-Nom would
always return to Binky's tent the next morning and wake him up so he could be fed. Binky even
tried to prick needles in a little Nom-Nom voodoo doll, but Nom-Nom ate it. Binky imagined he
could use Nom-Nom in his circus act, but that turned into an utter disaster because Nom-Nom
chewed up his balloon dogs, nibbled his squeaky toys, swallowed his rubber noses and attempted
congress with his rubber chicken, which was the final breaking point because absolutely nobody
other than himself was allowed to fondle Miss Fluster Cluck. Then one morning during a thunder-
storm Binky had a brainstorm. He would get rid of Nom-Nom, and best of all, he would send the
goofy glutton out with a big bang. Binky placed a trail of Twinkies leading into the cannon of the
Human Cannonball, and Nom-Nom crawled all the way inside as he gobbled up the creamy sponge
cakes. After Nom-Nom had gorged his belly, he was too swollen to squeeze back out through the
opening, so after squirming unsuccessfully for a while, Nom-Nom was exhausted and snoozed off
somewhere in Nom-Nom Land which probably resembles the inside production facilities of Willy
Wonka's Chocolate Factory with Oompa-Loompa waiters serving endless dishes of scrumptious
delicacies. That evening the circus was packed with lions and tigers and bare clowns. The audience
was having a delightful time snacking on roasted cotton candy and boiled elephant ears while they
eagerly waited to see the main event of the brave Human Cannonball shot out of the large cannon.
What the crowd did not know was that during the previous hours Nom-Nom was plugged inside the
cylinder sleeping peacefully, he had been expelling copious amounts of flatus into the cannon's base,
so when the cannon's fuse was lit, there was a massive explosive splattering that coated everything!
The Human Cannonball had to be taken away by an EMS squad but only after he had been hosed off.
Nom-Nom was blown to smithereens, and everybody left that evening covered with strange bits of
Nom-Nom stuffing. Standing outside the main entrance of the Big Top, Binky enjoyed the spectacle
as he gleefully squeezed his fuzzy foo-foo at Nom-Nom's reverse regurgitation by explosive expulsion.
Just then Newt the Limbless Salamander Boy tearfully wiggled slowly past him. Binky winked mischie-
vously, honked his pulsating nose and skipped off gaily to the Drowning Clown Tavern for a tall Slap
Happy Balloon Cooler and a chat with Boutique, the ceramic French acrobat with a cute broken face.
June 2012: Following the nationwide pogrom against the viral plague that spread
out of control in late 2011, subsequent subnormal freezing temperatures due to a
polar climate shift killed off the weakest citizens. In early spring newly formulated
vaccines and antibiotics finally arrived in designated quarantined cities and towns
thereby allowing survivors to be treated and inoculated. This emergency medical
assistance, which was developed and provided by allied countries in the European
Union, stabilized the spread of disfiguring diseases among the American populace.
In Atlanta all patients and hospital staff are relocating to the new President Biden
Quarantine Center for delousing, inoculations, amputations and free breath mints.
Ladies, is your skin wrinkled and sagging? Does your face feel like a withered prune even after
you apply costly moisturizers and healing ointments? Doctor Frankenstein offers free estimates
on Botox treatments guaranteed to bring your beautiful complexion back from the living dead!
Years of extensive laboratory testing have perfected Doctor Frankenstein's surgical technique,
and he has had 100% success rate on all patients who survived the electrical lightning pulses!
His Botox treatments are guaranteed for life and reportedly hold up extremely well after burial
as one of our nurses discovered in a roundabout way. Make an appointment for your free exam.
Phone 1-800-NEW-SKIN and ask for Igor. If you hear a recording, Igor is busy somewhere down
in the dungeon, so leave a message on our answering machine, and we will get in contact soon!
Remember, even if your face looks like an excavated graveyard, Doctor Frankenstein can fix it!
"The recent discovery of antimatter creation is fascinating scientific news, a truly
astounding breakthrough using the exceptional talents of hardworking physicists
to unleash the secrets of the unknown universe. Because I strongly believe these
secrets contain viable solutions to our financial quandary, I have assigned each
member of the Federal Reserve Board to cooperate with these brilliant scientists
and determine if we can utilize their amazing antimatter procedures to eliminate
America's wildly uncontrollable massive debt. My fellow associates at the Federal
Reserve Board unanimously concur that our days of using smoke and mirrors to
occlude the blatant fact that the entire economy is a totally screwed up pathetic
basket case are over. I have full support of our sincerely honest and trustworthy
bankers, the ones who have not yet been arrested and incarcerated; therefore,
I am supremely confident that substantial progress will be made to annihilate this
monstrous monetary blight upon our anemically fragile economic house of cards
which could implode at any moment. Quantitative antimatter is our best hope for
a perpetually prosperous recovery. The quirk of quark must be our guiding spark."
The Atkins diet plan has proven to be successful based on results from strict clinical testing and
the personal experiences of millions of Americans. Significant weight loss with the Atkins plan is
no myth or fantasy! Eating a nutritious diet high in proteins and fats with minimal carbohydrates
will force your metabolism to shift into the process of ketosis in which your body fat is burned to
generate energy instead of relying upon heavy ingestion of bloating carbohydrates that tax your
pancreas, making you feel sluggish. Eating fresh proteins and fats provide constant energy, and
you will lose your excess pounds of ugly blubber quickly. As you gradually increase your limited
carbohydrate intake, you will lose weight steadily but less rapidly. Your figure will become thin
and trim naturally, even without exercise, although increased exertion will build up new muscle
tissue which burns even more calories! After your initial large loss of water molecules expelled
with expended sugars while you are in the dietary induction phase of Atkins, you will have more
energy, be more alert and most importantly, feel ALIVE! Remember, do not get too carried away
by consuming large protein portions because the excessive calories will get converted to stored
fat. Be sensible, keep your mind focused upon your goal, and you will obtain your precious prize!
April is Adopt-A-Goth Month. Throughout the USA there are many depressed Goths
who are neglected and shunned by society, ridiculed by their snobby peers, ignored
by the uppity upper middle class and kicked out of their emotionally drained parents'
homes due to personal bizarre behavioral patterns considered unacceptably uncouth
and potentially hazardous to life, limb and litter boxes. Roving bands of pierced mas-
cara tattooed Goths meandering slothfully across lush suburban lawns and trudging
through immaculate prize gardens are not beneficial to residential real estate values.
The zombified walking dead Goth syndrome has become a burden on law enforcement
officials who must deal with frequent panicky phone calls concerning missing puppies
and kittens attributed to Goth petnapping. What can be done to remedy this bother-
some social annoyance and make everyone happy? No, euthanasia is not yet a legal
option. This is why we founded Adopt-A-Goth. Adopting a Goth is easy. If you meet
the necessary requirements, you can adopt your own personal Goth the same day
you register if our computer background check clears your name of any outstanding
violations or heinous crimes. We are somewhat lax in our voluntary work, and you
will probably qualify without any hassles. After all, you are attempting to adopt a
jaded grimy Goth, not an innocent third world infant whose organs can be sold on
the black market for corrective surgery of congenital birth defects. Keeping a Goth
is relatively easy, especially if your relatives are easy pushovers, Goth-friendly or
Goths themselves. If you are generally clueless about Goths and why they exist,
then read our free book Goth Care For Dummies, an easy to understand guide with
colorful illustrations and helpful hints written at the third grade level. Audio CD and
DVD versions are available if you are illiterate. Be forewarned that gloomy Goths are
independently minded with what remaining minds they tenuously possess, and they
will often wander off in search of creepy things, so you must housebreak your Goth,
using a strong leather leash or metal chain to keep your pet Goth restrained until
the conditioning process is complete. In this photo you see proof of a successful
Goth adoption. Meat Puppet was abandoned by his divorced mother in a Wal*Mart
parking lot when she could no longer afford to feed his ravenous appetite with tips
from her trucker clients. This tall phat dude subsisted by scrounging for edibles in
fast food restaurant dumpsters until he was captured and taken to our local Goth
Pound where he was deloused, inoculated, trimmed and tagged. Meat Puppet did
nothing all day except sit in a corner and sulk, and it seemed likely he would remain
unwanted and abandoned. But one day chubby Barney Bones was shuffling through
a littered dark alley looking for old aluminum cans to redeem for cash to pay for his
crack habit when he spotted a muddied flyer advertising our free Adopt-A-Goth plan.
Barney visited our Goth Pound, a black brick building adjacent to the city cemetery,
and it was love at first bite when Meat Puppet groveled on the floor and gnawed on
Barney's sneakers. Over the years they have bonded with each other and buried
some others, but that is not really relevant because they never made the national
news. Today they are inseparable, mainly because Barney has had himself surgically
stitched to the side of Meat Puppet. Everybody is happy, particularly Meat Puppet's
mother, who no longer has to pay child support which was difficult because of less
truckers on the road due to the economic recession. We have many other successful
adoption stories, fascinating and inspiring. Yes, you too can have a most excellent
learning experience and awesome adventure when you adopt a Goth. This month if
you qualify for a Goth adoption, you will automatically get coupons worth 50% off
our nutritious Black Nuggets, the favorite chewy snack of Goths. Please do not ask
us about the ingredients used to make Black Nuggets, just read the warning label
and try not to wince or vomit. Adopt a Goth this month and make a difference for life!
"In the name of King Scabbybeast I command thee forthwith to giveth thy report
on the criminal outlaw Easter Bunny!"
"Sire, I have searched the grassy burrows of the shire and poked my carrot nose
through clover patches but hath seen nary sign of the cotton-tailed culprit. Truly
this long-eared beast is sly and dangerous, eluding our skilled hunters; however,
I didst capture a wee male midget clothed in green, found snoozing under clover
blossoms. I bound him fast with twine and poketh him with sharpened sticks, but
he confessed no knowledge of the Easter Bunny."
"Of course he was most ignorant, thou foolish knave! Thou hast ensnared an Irish
leprechaun! He is no use to our beloved King, so feed him to your dogs or let him
loose, for leprechauns are out of season!"
"I humbly beg thy pardon, but couldst thou giveth me a penny for my labors, sire?"
"Nay! And I again saith nay, and also nee for goodly measure! Nee! Point thy tapered
schnozzle in orientation of the fabled rabbit's droppings, and keep thy twice-crossed
eyes open for woven baskets filled with colored eggs! Our King hath offered a reward
to whomever finds these painted orbs unbroken. Be gone straightway before I swat
thy naughty bits!"
"I thank thee for thy kindness, sire! Thou art more merciful than foppish clerics of the
dreaded Spanish Inquisition!"
"Yes, well, all right then. I'm just doing my duty. All in a day's work. Be a good little
peasant and hop off now. Hop, hop, hop."
"Bless thee, sire! Mayest thou inspire us to never tire as we seek to earn our hire!
Mayest thou perspire not within thy heavy metal wrought attire!"
"Enough with the blank verse, you twit! This spoof isn't supposed to run on and on
like the Energizer Bunny!"
"The battle has reached a critical stage! The Easter Bunny must be destroyed! He
is an emissary of the Light Side transporting symbols of fertility and prosperity to
our enemies, giving them hope for a brighter tomorrow! This is evil, but not our
kind of evil! He must be killed now! Prepare all our starships and X-Wing fighters!
We must seek out this furry fiend to the ends of the galaxy and exterminate him!
As a reward, the trooper who kills the Easter Bunny gets to hack off his ears for
trophies, but do not touch his basket of Easter goodies, for those belong to me!"
========================================
"Oh dear! I'm afraid the Easter Bunny will be captured soon!"
"Don't worry, C-3PO. I have used the Force to cast an invisible
protective shield around him."
"Gosh, Obi, that's so cool! But what if the Force doesn't hold?
If the Easter Bunny gets killed, can I have one of his feet for
good luck?"
"Oh my! I just can't bear the sight of mutilated mammals!"
"Luke, use your noodle! If the Easter Bunny gets killed, then it is not good luck!"
"Well, duh, of course not for the Easter Bunny, but that isn't how
a lucky rabbit's foot works!"
========================================
"Defend this Easter Bunny I must! Not one Jelly
Belly will be chewed or yellow marshmallow Peep
nibbled by enemies of the Dark Side! For them a
deadly trap in plastic green grasses I have set!"
"As Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, I am issuing an Easter
holiday warning of the utmost importance to all parents and children! Beware of
the evil Easter Bunny terrorist! We have received an anonymous tip that Easter
baskets are being sabotaged and filled with weapons of mass destruction! Yes,
that harmless looking Easter basket with the cheap plastic green grass and enough
jelly beans, marshmallow peeps, and chocolate bunnies to induce a diabetic coma
could contain hidden deadly devices that will maim and kill dozens of dozens, and I
don't mean cartons of colorfully dyed eggs! Because potential injuries and fatalities
resulting from Easter basket explosions are not covered by the national health care
plan due to insufficient funds because citizens are stubbornly refusing to pay their
increased taxes, and you people know who you are, we must prevent this Easter
disaster from hatching into a fertile fireball of frenzied fear! If we pretend there is no
threat and do nothing, then Lady Liberty will end up with hard-boiled eggs on her face!
How embarrassing and unflattering this would be for the greatest nation on earth!
Therefore, we have wisely assigned trained DHS agents to check Easter baskets and
candies throughout the United States in commercial stores, confectionary shops and
even private homes, but only if we can stick our feet in doors and gain entry before
complacent sheeple realize their rights have been violated. This is for your own good!
If you are truly patriotic, you will realize this and thank me profusely now and then
later reelect our noble Kenyan president, the mulatto Muslim with the wishy-washy
birth certificate issue. What can you do to safeguard your loved ones before the evil
Easter Bunny terrorist strikes? If you have already purchased Easter baskets with
goodies, then toss them out immediately! Those Easter goodies could be cleverly
disguised baddies! The DHS will certify irradiated and TSA scanned Easter baskets
and sweets as safe so you can make new purchases to help stimulate our economy.
It is springtime, and we need all the green shoots we can get! Now here is the real
shocker, folks, so pay attention. We have solid confirmation that Osama Bin Laden's
barber's uncle's nephew's second cousin, the one with the glass eye who limps on his
left foot because he stepped on a land mine he prematurely triggered, is somehow
linked to the Easter Bunny, which conclusively proves Al-Qaeda is heavily involved in
illegal malted milk egg trafficking and plans to disrupt the holiday season by inserting
unmentionably disgusting things inside hollow bodied chocolate bunnies! Arrgh! This
makes me so angry that I could flap my arms like a plucked chicken and scoot down
a curving water slide in my pink polka-dot string bikini yelling "Ooga-ooga-ooooga!"
After an arduous trek over the Misty Minty Fresh Mountains grappling with grubby
goblin goons and toothy trolls with halitosis, four weary yet determined travelers
are hot on the trail of Peter Cottontail, most commonly known as the happy Easter
Bunny during springtime celebrations. This queer quartet is a highly skilled team of
professional bounty hunters who specialize in tracking fantasy figures of mythical
and historical importance. Seated on a rocking horse named Bumblehoof is Princess
Pippinditz who is skilled in spotting targets because she is higher above the ground
level than her companions and thus can see farther, that is, when she is not overly
preoccupied peering into her magic spider purse for her beloved bejeweled vanity
mirror and rainbow pastel cosmetics. Count Silly Sounding Squish provides sturdy
support so she won't fall off Bumblehoof, and he routinely confirms her spurious
sightings, relays quantum conduit quirks and is responsible for feeding Bumblehoof
and subsequently disposing of horse apples at sporadic intervals so the others will
not step in them. Namby Pamby the Wizard is clutching his curved boomercomber
and will be ready to cast his secret spell of silent stealth once he remembers where
he hid it in his black robe and orange sashes. Orlando the Quaint is the lead tracker
who relies upon his salient instincts and magic zibble cane but sometimes needs to
download GPS coordinates into his digital moonwatch when they get completely lost,
which is lately more often than not due to global worming in warming foreign soils.
Namby Pamby blames the wandering stars for incorrect readings, but Orlando the
Quaint suspects crude errors are due to faulty fairy crystals mined in Morrowland.
Thus far their luck has been running out as the days draw closer to Easter, for their
last success was catching the sole surviving unicorn, but that was a long long time
ago in a distant land of drumming dwarves and dancing dragons. Their great fame
has dwindled over the years because governmental enforcement of all endangered
mythical species forbids them from collecting illegal bounties, but they do it anyway
because they have to pay bills just like normal reality-based people. Another reason
they are less known contemporaneously is because the current most popular fad
focuses upon space aliens who use kinky abductions to experiment with empirical
probes which young people consider far more fascinating than old wives' tales and
hearsay about skydiving centaurs and neon centipedes dwelling in floating puffballs.
But since time is money, and both are scant, the four must score with their marked
Easter prey. Hase clues are abundant such as bunny fur stuck on bushes and briars,
small dainty indented paw prints and a loose printed receipt for hare hair care lotion
found beside a toadstool, but their discovery of colored broken eggshells stuck to
a half-nibbled yellow chickie peep was a dead giveaway of proximity. Count Squish
obtained the general location of the hidden hare when he threatened to debeak a
juggling duck if it didn't quack a hint. The quartet is within spellcasting range of the
hidden bungalow, hoping to catch the Easter Bunny before he can deliver baskets
full of candy, chocolate and other junk foods that are in violation of new nutritional
guidelines, which is the primary reason why children covet sweet Easter treats and
the lame excuse the four trespassers will use if caught by the meadowland property
owner. In the nonevent that fuzzy Peter Cottontail is absent from his secret hideout
because he was tipped off by a sympathetic hirsute salamander or a small stuttering
rodent wearing infrared goggles, the foolish fantasy foursome of fabled bounty lore
will revert back to their perennial and possibly futile quest of searching for Sasquatch,
who was last seen wearing sunglasses while sunbathing near Gobbledygook Brook.
"I read that national DHS alert from Janet Napoleon about the Easter Bunny terrorist,
so I'm keepin' my eyes peeled for suspicious activity cause I'm a volunteer big sister
doin' my American duty in my local Wal*Mart. I'm here so much this store feels like
my second home, and I know all the Wal*Mart associate cashiers and stockin' clerks
on a first name basis. They made me and Skeeter honorary Wal*Martians. Dang, it
makes us feel mighty proud! Checkin' for odd behavior here is almost a full-time job,
what with all our efforts spent checkin' out scads of weirdos wanderin' through the
aisles and screenin' out regular harmless weirdos that ain't no threat. I'm real glad
there's fast food booths and restrooms throughout this store for our convenience,
but those places could also be secret meetin' spots for terrorists, so we have to be
extra careful when wipin' our butts and squirtin' ketchup on our curly fries. We take
turns watchin' nosy onlookers just to be sure. Bein' real busy, I only got time for the
local news, mostly gossip, although lately I been hearin' reports about Libby causin'
problems overseas. I think it's a cryin' shame if I have to boycott all their canned
veggies and fruits cause they're in cahoots with the Muzzies. Skeeter loves them
Libby peaches, so maybe I'll just take off the labels after I buy 'em. Skeeter can't
read yet, so he won't get no psycholoco damage by Muzzie lies, but I ain't worryin'
cause our troops is gonna whoop Libby's ass. Maybe after the war's over we can
get a discount on them peaches. Anyway, things is gettin' excitin' around here. I
found this cool big blue ball wedged in the pillow section, so I'm returnin' it to its
rightful shelf in Sportin' Goods. That's one of Skeeter's favorite departments. He's
been gettin' some spring trainin' battin' practice there swingin' at stuff on shelves.
Skeeter's helped me out by stickin' his chewin' gum to the bottom of the ball so it
won't bounce out of our shoppin' cart. Oh, by the way, I just got a hot tip from my
numeruno Wal*Martian contact that a new shipment of Easter goodies is arrivin'
tonight at the loadin' docks. Skeeter is real eager to check out the Easter candy.
He can tell where it was made just by smellin' the bags. He won't touch none of
that cheap Chinese crap. We always stake out the Easter candy display aisles
the moment we hear about new stuff. Sometimes we get advance notice listenin'
to truckers talkin' on their CBs when we're overhearin' chatter in the Electronics
Department. Skeeter's been real busy this week taste test nibblin' the chocolate
bunnies. Sometimes he's got to give 'em a little nudge so they break through the
cellophane wrappers. Skeeter's a pro when it comes to scarfin' candy out of bags
and boxes without leavin' any telltale marks. I learned him good from when I was
a little girl. This mornin' Skeeter did too much taste testin' and got a tummy ache.
He couldn't make it to the little boys' room in time, so he upchucked in a Easter
basket and covered up his mess with green plastic grass, then put some marsh-
mallow peeps on top of it. Looks as good as new. Should probably dry in time by
Easter mornin'. Whichever kid gets that basket will get a surprise for sure! Heh!
I asked the Pet Shop clerk about gettin' some baby Easter chicks, but she said
they won't do that no more cause one of the regular weirdos ate 'em cause he
couldn't swallow goldfish like he used to cause they put wire screens over the
tops of the fish tanks. Well, we gotta return this blue ball so we can head over
to Pretzel Pete's for a snack of free Easter cookies. Ain't that right, Skeeter?"
__________________________________________________ "Oh lookie, lookie! Green shoots! Have your hairdresser snip some and save our economy!
__________________________________________________ Hahaha! Only kidding. I know you had a bad accident using green dye to color Easter eggs.
__________________________________________________ Did you know stores sell plastic colored eggs? You should've bought some of those instead.
__________________________________________________ It would have been safer unless you've had bad experiences with plastic. Oh, sorry I forgot
__________________________________________________ about your plastic surgery, but hey, it's no skin off my nose since I don't have one. Hahaha!
__________________________________________________ Orange you green with envy I'm not as clumsy as you? Say, maybe you could stick yellow
__________________________________________________ marshmallow peeps and brown chocolate bunnies in your green hair and call it your Easter
__________________________________________________ basket wig, then give a speech to Congress and dodge hard-boiled eggs. Hahaha! If you're
__________________________________________________ embarrassed that you're a total klutz at manual labor because you're all thumbs unlike me,
__________________________________________________ you could buy a fancy pink frilly Easter bonnet and wear it over your fake Easter grass hair.
__________________________________________________ Better yet, buy one that's way oversized and pull the whole hat down over your face so you
__________________________________________________ can't scare innocent children and scar them for life. Oh wait, you've already done that with
__________________________________________________ your voting record! Your best option now is diabetic coma by chocolate bunnies. Hahaha!"
Stubby the chipmunk is tentatively winning another high stakes wager in Dare A Pet,
a popular neighborhood spectator sport viewed by groups of cheering chipmunks,
squirrels and birds safely perched on high tree limbs. Snowball the cat is curious as
to why this little rodent has such stinky breath, speculating he is diseased, infested
with nasty parasites and therefore unsafe to consume. Although Stubby cannot read
Snowball's mind, he knows by her classic finicky feline reaction that she will not touch
him. Stubby is getting wealthy winning bets of choice nuts, berries and shiny baubles
by daring to confront neighborhood pets because most participating gamblers wager
he will be gobbled up in defeat. Although Stubby is on a winning streak, the bettors
remain clueless as to his daring bravado which is understandable given the standard
consensual assumptions regarding survival of the fittest. Stubby's secret strategy is
to eat several cloves of strong garlic before he approaches his domesticated adver-
saries whose sensitive olfactory sniffers keep a set distance from the pungent odor
of Stubby's breath. So far this season Stubby has experienced a streak of good luck
in his nose-to-nose shows, but tomorrow he will meet Garfield, a new fat cat in the
neighborhood, nicknamed after the famous cartoon character because of his love
of spicy Italian lasagna. If Stubby does not change his strategy and chew a strong
breath mint before the upcoming encounter, he will become the chubby cat's garlic
appetizer, which is unfortunate because Stubby has left no last will and testament
as to who gets his stuff after he dies. This is a reason why chipmunks and squirrels
squabble and fight, for they are contesting possessions due to lack of legally binding
documents. Learn from nature's mistakes to nurture sound plans for your own estate.
This insipid caption is not sponsored by PETA, who opposes illegal and unauthorized pet fights,
but they do recommend you make a will to bequeath all your prized assets to their organization.
Some nervously insecure hypochondriacs are in over their necks by using extreme
measures in efforts to shield themselves from exposure to real or imagined germs
and chronic diseases contaminating unsanitary acquaintances from the unwashed
masses. Such pronounced overreaction may result in vulnerability to rashes from
pushy collaring scarf salesmen or huge hickeys from amorous epidermal fetishists.
While engaged in defensive mode these freakish hypochondriacs will remain mum
due to lessons learned from prior social encounters where they failed to save face.
"Making money in the stock market is easy if you know what
you are doing and use common sense in selecting long-term
growth prospects to enhance your portfolio. I have chosen to
control the release of my options on a monthly basis. When I
decide to liquidate my holdings, they better withdraw quickly
or they'll have a bloodbath on their hands because it will be a
huge surge that can't be plugged by sticking fingers in a dyke!"
After hearing alarming news reports about the E. coli bacterial outbreak
causing severe sickness nationwide, Mister Potato Head refused to sleep
in his bed of lettuce until his landlord replaced it because he was afraid of
contracting tuberculosis. His overreaction was quite misplaced yet under-
standable given that his cousins living in the same storage unit had been
evicted to the dumpster outside the restaurant due to contagious dry rot.
Pam and Sam Baker of Atlanta stare in awe at their computer monitor,
completely shocked at the extremely high score they have achieved
playing the new video game "BP Gusher", an entertaining product in
popular demand for those most eager to relive the tense drama and
palpable sensations of spine-tingling doom of the infamous original
British Petroleum drilling disaster that captivated the world. Installing
and setting up BP Gusher on your gaming system is easy and trouble-
free, unlike the pathetically inept bungling by BP employees. Available
for all gaming platforms and wireless mobiles, options of playing single,
dual or multiplayer allow challenging competion to see who can stop
the Deepwater Horizon oil leak from gushing out of control before the
yucky crude petroleum devastates the Gulf of Mexico with murky dead
zones and extinction of all marine life including the littoral ecosystem.
Pam and Sam were playing "Cap The Top" by attempting to maneuver
high-tech robots to secure a firm fitting over the broken oil pipe when
Pam accidentally clicked on the wrong connection point and knocked
over a heavy piece of machinery which cracked the metal base apart,
causing an enormous underwater volcanic surge of gushing goo that
momentarily blackened the screen as they released involuntary leaks
of urine before an orange message popped up against the background:
Uncontrollable BP Gusher!
You have achieved a new high score of 80,000,000 petro units!
You qualify for the Super Bonus Round containing secret prizes!
Do you want to:
A) request U.S. government disaster relief?
B) hire more lawyers and file for bankruptcy?
C) promise you will plug the damn hole next time?
Enter your selection now, or press ESC to quit and relaunch a new game
after consulting with your siblings, friends, parents and/or legal guardian.
Programmer's notice: this video game is not endorsed by BP
or its affiliates, but feel free to e-mail them your top scores!
"Now fellas, I admit our predicament could be more fortuitous in a utopian society,
but with the sheriff's deputies surroundin' us, their dogs sniffin' for scents and the
county border road barricaded, our chance of escapin' is slimmer than an anorexic
in a broken magic mirror maze. It is imperative that we divert their obsessive search
away from the large sewage drainage pipe so we can stoop to the open opportunity
of squirmin' through to freedom and a hot soapy bath, for obvious reasons. Okay,
Pete, you sneak over to that dilapidated outhouse, the one with the flies swarmin'
round it and wait for my signal. If the smell gets too intense, just keep in mind the
sewage pipe will be much worse, so consider it your adaptive nasal odor conditionin'
for inside the stinky escape tunnel. Delmar, shinny up that oak tree limb overhangin'
the patrol car and wait till I give you the signal to dangle upside down and reach in
through the passenger side to grab that big bag of donuts. We're gonna need some
high carb nourishment for the long journey ahead of us. While you two are occupied,
I'll slink on over to the drainage openin' and check for snakes."
"I dunno, Everett. Sounds mighty risky."
"Wouldn't it just be easier to backtrack and take the side road in a diagonal direction?"
"What? And string along curious perusers with no silly punch line or hilarious payoff?
What kind of stone-drunk-pig-slappin' fun is that? Ya'll are soundin' like soggy bottom
white crackers! I have half a notion to traipse over to that muddy ditch, lie down on
my back and start singin' the blues off-key!"
"Huh?"
"Why would you do that?"
"Well, boys, you gotta break some crayons if you wanna be colored outside the lines."
"I have closely examined loosely scattered clues clinging like pixie lint to a
ballerina's tutu on this bizarre thread that has been unraveling like a roll of
dimpled toilet tissue down a steep spiral staircase on the Interweb thingy,
and I have concluded that this Bimblepiff is a silly minky typing piffle on a
keyboard, pretending to be a sock pippet, yet is only a feeble figment from
the addled imagination of an incompetent lunatic. Random use of pink fonts
and references to felines in questionably weird posts are meant to mislead
us into assuming this poppycock has something to do with the Pink Panther,
but based upon minute scrutiny of every nook and cranny in this forum rim,
I can confidently advise you to ignore Bimblepiff, who will atrophy as surely
as my heart condition of which I am palpitatingly ambivalent. Or maybe not."
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