Restolush... Resilushi... Resallusi... Uh, things I'm gonna do this year!

CHEWDWIN'S NEW YEW'S YESUH-WOOSHINS


I wiw 'top skatching my butt in cwass

I wiw do my pinups

I wiw not wipe my boogews on my pawents

I wiw weaw soups to chewch

I wiw say my pwayews evewy nite

I wiw eat my vegawubbows evewy nite

I wiw member to spay fanks and cheese

I wiw be kime to naybows

I wiw say "I know" to stwangews.

and,
I wiw say Nappy New Yews to EB-EW-Y-BUB-BA-DY!



NEW YEAR'S REST-HOME-LUTIONS



I'll tell ya what my New Years resolution's gonna be; This year I'm gonna get Selma Cunningham in the sack and I'm gonna rock her world!

—Willard Royce 90 years old


“Well, n- n- n- na- na- nah- nah I'm not g- g- gonna start... t'saying somethin'
unless... ah- ah- ah- know DAMN sure that... ah... ah... ... ...w- w- well nah y'see? Ah-ah-ah fergawt agin!”

—Bill Sarks 97 years old


I ain't nevah tried the meat loaf heah, I b'lieve mah new years remanution gawn be to try that Meat Loaf, Heh Heh! 'at good nuff?

—Calvin Peeples 84 years old


My New Years Resolution is to not... die... this year.

—Candice Forthworth 109 years old


I'm doin' 80 crunches t'day and 400 those... y'know oh whats it called... push-ups!
That's my New Years Revolutions... Ha Ha *Cough* heh heh I'll be lucky if I do 3!

—Roger Blessings 103 years old


ME?! SHOOT, I CAN'T HEAR YOU! WHATSAT?! YOU HEAR A SOLUTION? SOLUTION TO WHAT? WHAT?
I DON'T KNOW! I THINK IT'S 'ROUND THE.... WHAT? ...OH ASK HIM!

—Scotty Berritt 95 years old


I'm not makin' any! Hell no! At my age ya don't need 'em!

—Matilda Crailly 100 years old


Wha!? Get the hell away from me you... you... whipper sniper! Security? Security?
Git I tell ya! (goddamn bastards, who lets them in here?...)

—Fred Schmatz 89 years old


This post has been brought to you by
Guinness...“Tain‘t none o‘ yo‘ bidness”

And by
Numbsain...“Don't try to explain”

"A" IS FOR ACCEPTANCE

"AAA" (The American Automobile Association) had been receiving a number of phone calls from "AA" (Alcoholics Anonymous) members who had become addicted to 12-step programs and sought help. Apparently believing the letters "AAA" stood for Alcoholics Anonymous Anonymous, The callers were disappointed to find this was not the case.

The president of "AAA" decided to refer all the calls to a central hub where the callers could coordinate with each other, which they did, and a few days later, they held the first Alcoholics Anonymous, Anonymous meeting. The meeting was deemed a success and others were scheduled. However the "AAA" meetings were conducted without supervision of a qualified 12-step program director and it was discovered the the participants had been done more harm than good by the proceedings. The leader of the unsuccessful "AAA" meetings decided to recruit the help of a qualified 12-step expert and attempt to undo the damage that had been done.

The meeting was called "AAAA," (Alcoholics Anonymous Anonymous Anonymous), but even under the supervision of a trained expert, the results proved disastrous. it was agreed that the previous group was far more useful and the "AAA" was reconvened the following day. At this meeting, the folly of the whole thing was discussed and it was unanimously agreed upon that good old "AA" was the best thing all along. All the participants rejoined their original "AA" chapter but shortly afterward found themselves on the street, drinking and homeless, right back where they had started.

The only difference was, they were now together as a group and it was agreed that this arrangement was vastly preferable to the way they had all started. A celebration was held at a local bar and a good time was had by everyone. They continued to meet each day and have a good time drinking and talking. A few months passed and two of the people in the group had managed to reduce their drinking enough to actually acquire jobs. This came as a great inspiration to the members of the group and several weeks later, three more had done the same thing.

It had become a fun challenge to see who would be the next to get a job and after all, they had nothing to lose for trying. Before too long, every member of the group had found gainful employment and some had even been sober for a while. They met one evening after work, looking fairly respectable I might add, and drank to their success. A decision was made that they would pool their resources, which were substantial by now, and buy a house. A few months later, they moved into a spacious 2 story, well-maintained house in a decent part of town. There was plenty of room for everyone to reside comfortably and still keep a large community room as a meeting hall where, every night, the entire group got together after work to drink and talk. They decided to call their happy little group, "A" which stood for Alcoholics. And to this day, they all live happily ever after.

by numbsain

NUMBSAIN'S BESTSELLERS LIST

Why Optimism Never Works

Kicking Self Help

How to Read

Sarcasm Schmarcasm

Killing your Anger

Finishing what You Sta

Living with Death

Be Old and Wise Right Away

Raising your Self Esteem—For Dummies

Paris on $3,000 a day

Parapalegics Handbook

Cooking with Food

Brain Twisters made Easy

Learn Patience in 1 day

Step by Step Method of Being Spontaneous

How Can I Miss You, If You Won't Go Away

Win at Gambling Every Time

Now is Over

Beating the Evens

Drowning Worms & Catching Fish

Putting off Procrastination

You Can't Have Nothing

Exaggeration Will Destroy Us All!!!

How to Avoid Karma

Learn to be a Natural

A Guide to Perfect Proofeading

Everything You Want To Know About The Unknown

Swallow Your Pride and Save Face

Things You'll Know Soon

Drawing Manual—and people that look like him

Fight Rebellion

Zeroing in on the big picture

The Whole Story—Volume One

Stop Doing Nothing

Safe Risks

Safety in Letters

Never Isn't Here Yet

Bigots Are All Alike

Everything Exists

Trends that Never Change

Knowing You're in Denial

Doubt Your Faith

Telling Secrets

You Can't Be Better

You'll Never Know a Stranger

Your always in front of what's behind you.

It's Not The Past Anymore

Far Away Things Can't Get Any Closer

The Future of History

If You Say Your Lying, You're Not, So You Are

If You Can't Hear Me Don't Answer

The More You Want The Less You Have

You'll Never Know What Killed You

Shakespeare for Americans Series

President Lear
Comedy of Screw-Ups
Rambo and Juliet
A Midsummer Nights Tailgate Party
Mickey Beth
Green Eggs and Hamlet
The Date Rape of Lucy
The Dealer of Vegas
A Shit-Fit About Nothing
Bitchslapping of the Ho
Dick of New York

Special Edition Audio Tape Books

Britney "Shakes" Spear:
5 Shakespeare Classics Read by Britney Spear

William Shakespeare Set to Music:
Carol King Lear

The Andy Rooney Holiday Special

"The Holiday Report"- Andy Rooney

Normally, I would not waste the time that I have left to me by writing holiday crap and bending your ears with the musings of a grinch like old fart, but my confidante and possibly illegitimate son "Cheddar" called in a favor. And what the hell kind of name is Cheddar anyway? Does anyone reading this buy the fact that someone's parents would so blatantly name their child after a dairy creation? And if you do believe that, are you part of what's wrong with society? Or is the fact that you can believe it at all, actually what's wrong with society? Think about it.

The holidays. In the Rooney household, during the days of my youth, Christmas was celebrated in abject poverty. Our parents saved all year to provide me and my six siblings each with an orange and a freshly darned pair of socks. Notice I did not say knit, I said darned. That's right. They were last years socks patched up. We had not heard of Tickle me Elmo, Beanie Babies, Cabbage Patch Kids, and Virgil's prison playset complete with droppable soap. Even if we HAD heard of them, the Rooney kids would have been eating their oranges in freshly repaired socks; watching all the other kids play with their yearly fads in disgusting earnest. Suffering was a badge of honor in the Rooney household, and you wore it proudly. Of course, being inexperienced in the commercial gadgetry of Christmas, does leave me with several lingering questions.

For instance, what is a "furby"? It was always my understanding that this was a slang term for female genitalia, but the next thing I know all the kids are getting them for Christmas. Either there is a pedophilia related orgy going on in this country, or my definition is somewhat mistaken.

Speaking of orgies, where did this whole mistletoe thing originate? Some group of horny guys hung foliage over their heads and demanded foreplay in the name of holiday spirit? If that actually worked, why don't we see it tried more often? The President's day Mistletoe, the Colombus day mistletoe, the flag day mistletoe. Don't just go for the gusto in December boys, go for the freebie all year! After all, there is cameltoe all year, why not mistletoe?

And why does every doll a girl gets these days have to wet itself? Just walking down the aisles looking for a present for my granddaughter, I saw box after box of plastic baby proudly proclaiming it's incontinence. Are we preparing our little girls for a lifetime in nursing the elderly? Making them think that wetting oneself is "cute"? Believe me, when I mistakenly saturate my trousers, no one gets in line to buy me. Or fights over the right to dry my "whoopsy". What kind of statement are we making here?

And then there's New Years. As if the gluttony of a Thanksgiving feast, christmas cookies and fudge, the christmas goose, numerous office luncheons, and spiked egg nog isn't enough, we feel compelled to finish off our overindulgence in one final bender. Pop open the first bottle on December 31st and still be sleeping off the hangover on January 2nd. Are we dedicated to bringing in the new year in an alcohol induced coma because we know the year can only get better from there? Or do we embalm ourselves only to forget our transgressions in the year past? And is it any wonder we feel the need to make hollow resolutions after the 6 week period of gluttony from Thanksgiving to New Years? During this period, many asses grow to the size of swollen Halloween pumpkins, and we feel compelled to diet so that we may repeat our self abuse next year. Why don't we all save some time and just resolve to continue our self abuse in a consistent manner? Or resolve to try bulimia?

All in all, as the song says, it's the most wonderful time of the year. On display is blatant alcoholism, gross dietary irresponsibility, thoughtless comsumer spending, and self serving college bowl games that only the alumni of podunk state care at all about. It is the time for dysfunctional families the world over to get together in tension laden situations and share barbs of sarcasm over holiday punch. It's the time to watch the moral collapse of society while smugly sipping your eggnog and fondling your plastic tree. Happy Holidays America. Why not enjoy an orange in your trailworn socks in honor of yours truly?

Btw, Cheddar. I hope this puts paid to our debt so that you can stop spamming my email box and calling my home. At my age, I just want solitude. Keep up the pestering, and the next thing you'll find under your own mistletoe will be my prostate.

-Andy

GREAT MOMENTS IN ADVERTISING

In the 50's A small ad firm put several entrepreneurs on the map with their direct no nonsense approach to slogan and corporate image design. Let's listen in on history in the making, shall we...

The Boss: Okay, what's on deck?

J.B.: Well sir, the client is Melvin Spitz and he wants to open a restaurant on the side of the highway.

Hodgkins: A hamburger-stand type of thing, Sir.

The Boss: Okay so what does he wanna gonna call his place?

J.B.: Well he had some ideas he thought were really clever...

The Boss: Oh brother, let's hear 'em.

Hodgkins: "Highway Burgery" "The Skid Mark" or "Burger Brake" and it's spelled like the brakes of a car...

The Boss: Oh my god, I hope we're not too late to save this man from himself... Okay what did you guys come up with?

J.B.: Well sir, you have so much more experience with this, we were hoping you'd tell us...

The Boss: WHAT THE HELL AM I PAYING YOU BUMS FOR?!?! AT LEAST TRY TO USE YOUR BRAINS!!!!

Hodgkins: ...Uh, M-M-Melvin Spitz by the side of the highway?

The Boss: You're both fired! Get the hell out of my office!

Hodgkins: Yes sir, Sorry sir.

The Boss: Get back in here! We've got work to do. Now first of all nobody wants to go eat on the side of the highway. People like to go "in" somewhere. makes 'em feel special.

Hodgkins: Melvin Spitz "in" the highway?

The Boss: Oh I can see it now, "Can I take your order? Vroom Screeeeech! ‘SPLAT!" We gotta put Melvin in a nice place! Talk to me boys.

J.B.: How about a house, no a room, "Melvin Spitz in a room?"

Hodgkins: No J.B. the boss wants us to think outside the box remember?

The Boss: Actually Hodgkins, thinking outside the box never seems to work for you guys. Just think inside the box.

Hodgkins: "Melvin Spitz in the Box!"

The Boss: Better, but the names gotta go. He needs a catchier name, something with some pizazz.

J.B.: Steve in the Box?

The Boss: You call that pizazz?!

Hodgkins: Clyde in the Box?

The Boss: Even worse! Come on you guys, I'm falling asleep over hear.

J.B.: Ralph in the Box?

The Boss: HORRIBLE!

Hodgkins: Vinnie in the box?

The Boss: Look you guys are jacking me around here, What the hell do I pay you bums for? You ain't doing Jack for me!

J.B.: That's it! "Jack In the box!"

The Boss: You just earned your paycheck J.B., Ship it!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

FAUX PAS-MOBILE

In 1989 Ford introduced a sporty little coupe with a name that really should have been nixed before it ever hit the showroom floor. The scene opens in a meeting at the Ford Motor Co. Creative Department.

Henry Jr.: Okay Billingsly, we're at the deadline here. Manufacturing needs a name for the new sport coupe so they can start casting the logos. What have you got for me?

Billingsly: Well sir, we have narrowed it down to three choices: The Ford Pony, The Ford Slingshot, or my personal favorite The Ford Probe...

Henry Jr.: Are you kidding me? Those are the choices? Those are the worst names I've ever heard in my life!!! Who the hell is gonna buy a car called a "probe?" What are you thinking billingsly?

Secretary: Sir, It's your wife on line 7...

Henry Jr.: Put her on speaker...

Secretary: Uh, Sir, I think you'd better pick up.

Henry Jr.: (click) What's the problem Stephanie?...

Secretary: Your wife is very angry sir, apparently she found a pair of my panties under the seat of your other car sir... I'm sorry... She's talking about a divorce.

Henry Jr.: Uh, I gotta take care of some personal business Billingsly, meetings over.

Billingsly: But Sir, the deadline, what are we going to call the car?

Henry Jr.: Look, I don't care about that right now! Just... do whatever you want, get outta my office!

And thus the Ford Probe was born. At least it represented the first example of truth in advertising as the Ford Motor Company really stuck it to it's customers with this lemon.

"FINGERS!"

When Dr. Frankenschtöen created his monster, his impulsive young assistant, Eagor made the classic apprentice mistake and thought: "That looks easy!" So late that evening, he sneaked back into "Monsters N' Things" after business hours and dug around in the organic trash bin. It was slim pickin's, just a handful of severed digits and some cartilage, but he would have to make do... (No, he held it until afterward.) He placed the fleshy mass on the re-animation table and connected the electrodes. Just then a bolt of lightning conveniently struck the antenna on the roof sending millions of volts coursing through the... stuff, and sure enough... IT'S ALIVE! He shouted. (Stupidly, because it got the dogs to barking and he wasn't supposed to be in there.) But Eagor had done it! Well, sort of, he didn't have enough parts for a really good monster. After playing with it for a few minutes he was bored so he deep fried it and sold it with a bucket of chicken at KFC where he worked part time. Well I'll tell you one thing, I wont eat there anymore but that's how I ended up with... *GAG* ...Fingers!

Fingers: Let's kill everyone, daddy. Then it will just be you and me... and were the same, huh daddy? Aren't we? Aren't we, daddy? ...Daddy?

Daddy: No Fingers, we're not the same. I'm a human being, you're a disgusting genetic mutant.

Fingers: But you love me, right daddy?

Daddy: To be honest fingers, I have to say.... not even slightly, now shut your pie-hole you wretch.

Fingers: Oh...Can I drive, daddy? Please? I wanna drive the car, daddy. Can I? Huh, daddy? Can I? Can I? Please? Can I, daddy? Daddy? DADDY?

Daddy: SHUT THE HELL UP!!!

Fingers: No. I'm not going to shut up until you let me drive the car.

Daddy: Oh Jeezus Aitch Frikken Christ! Go ahead. I don't give a shit anymore.

Fingers: Wheeeee! This is fun! I'm a good driver huh, daddy? Oops!!

A pedestrian: AAAAAaaahuk! (FLUBUMP! SQUISH!)

Fingers: uh-oh!

Daddy: Fingers you idiot!!!! You just killed a pedestrian!!!! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!!

Fingers: Can I get ice cream, Daddy? Please? Daddy Please? I want ice cream!

Daddy: Oh my god! I can't believe you just killed a person in cold blood and now you want ice cream?

Fingers: We're the same, huh daddy!

Daddy: STOP SAYING THAT! We're not the same! Not even close! Look at you, you're a freak, a monster, you have no redeeming qualities! You can't even die because you're not really alive in the first place! You disgust and horrify everyone who sees you and if I could figure out a way to destroy you, I would do it in a heart beat, something you don't even have!!! Now what flavor do you want you little shit!?

Fingers: can I have 27 scoops?

Daddy: IF I CAN SHOVE THEM UP YOUR...

Fingers: I don't have a nose daddy.

Baskin Robbins Employee: SIR! That's no way to talk to a child!

Daddy: CHILD!? Does this look like a child to you?

Baskin Robbins Employee: Wow that's a really gross toy! where'd you buy it!

Fingers: Hello.

Baskin Robbins Employee: SCREEEEEEEEEEEEECH! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING? GET IT THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!!!

Fingers: Do you have pralines and carne asada? Look daddy, she fainted. Let's stomp on her head and steal all the ice cream!

To be continued...

by numbsain

When time needs repair, Quadrax is there!

Quadrax has only a few nanoseconds left to go in a critical photon-cell recharge sequence, when he's assigned another maximum priority mission. The dispatch beacon flashes his dock release sensor, instananeously thrusting his transport luge into a hyperslide foldpath. Four picoseconds later, the luge is repositioned 427 light years away in a distant galaxy.

"Travelling, even at thousands of times the speed of light, just takes too damn long."

Instructions simultaneously reach his cognition ports preparing him for the situation just 8 picoseconds before the arrival of the anomaly. It's a temporal splice de-synchronization in the carbotertian sector M386 where the sentient inhabitants are highly dependent on perceptual continuity, especially when it comes to the sequential linearity of their precious time continuum.

"The very structure of their minds would disintegrate without it."

Quadrax must mend the splice almost instantaneously or Dennis Baxter, CEO of Genentech Corporation, Planet Earth 12.23.2007 will step out of his elevator into the rowing deck of a Viking cargo vessel off the coast of Birka, a medieval Swedish village circa 935 A.D.!

"If the shock doesn't kill him, the Vikings will! But not if I can help it."

With three short bursts of modified tri-gamma radiation, he manages to shift the misaligned temporal splice and fall back into the foldpath redocking to his port within picoseconds of losing his entire .3 millisecond recharge sequence. Which would mean every repair he had ever made would have never happened!

"Whew! That was a close one!"

But it was all in a millisecond's work for...
QUADRAX... TEMPORAL REPAIRBOT!

"Keeping the continuum contiguous for ALL corporeal lifeforms!"

Don't blink or you might miss the next exciting episode!

by numbsain

DAN'S DISCOUNT SURGERY EMPORIUM ...We cut into you, not your budget!

(Jing-a-ling-a-ling-a)

Dr. Ralph: Howdy Folks! Welcome to the Dan's Discount Surgery Emporium. Can I interest you folks in an appendectomy? We're having a special sale this week!
only $399.99! Whattaya say?

Bob: No, My appendix is fine. I just...

Dr. Ralph: But you never know when it's gonna go bad on ya and you won't find a better deal. How about you miss? Do you ever get headaches?

Julie: Oh, Occasionally.

Dr. Ralph: I highly recommend a hysterectomy! And guess what? if you get a hysterectomy today, I'll throw in the appendectomy FREE! That's an $899.99 value for just $499.99! How about it miss?

Julie: No.

Dr. Ralph: Well let me ask you this; do you have any kids?

Julie: Yes.

Dr. Ralph: Do you plan on having any more?

Julie: No.

Dr. Ralph: I really think you should try our total abdominal salpingo oopherectomy! We take it all out, the whole reproductive system. You'll feel younger, lighter (easiest 20 pounds you'll ever lose), no hormones to deal with, no hot flashes, you'll be outta here in less than an hour and it'll only cost you $899.99 We'll take care of disposal too! And, of course, we'll throw in the appendectomy free of charge.
Whattaya say?

Bob: No. My wife doesn't need that. Look, we're here because I need my foot amputated. That's all.

Dr. Ralph: You sure it's just the foot? We can do the whole leg for just an additional 39.99!

Bob: No. just the foot!

Dr. Ralph: We can take it off just below the knee for only 19.99 more or you might wanna go with our two for one special. It's a hell of a bargain and you won't find these prices anywhere. Two feet for the price of one. And the appendectomy is free as always. Lets talk about a package deal for you and your wife.

Bob: Uh, listen we're not...

Dr. Ralph: Have you thought about being organ donors? If you donate any one of your major redundant organs, you get a $99.99 credit for any procedure on this list. and discounts on future surgeries for a whole year! You can't beat our prices anywhere.
Hey, where ya goin' folks?... Damn!

Head Doctor: Jeez Ralph! They were gonna get an amputation until you drove 'em away. You gotta stop trying to up-sell the customers.

by numbsain

ZOOBREAK!

Baboon: Alright listen up! The eagle flies at midnight. That'll be your cue, big cats. You need to have the perimeter secured by 12:15am. We're looking at two guards. So you have five minutes to stalk 'em, ten minutes to polish 'em off.

Lionesses: Baby, that's fast-food for us! / Yeah, the UN-happy meal! Hah! / Hee-hee-hee, you know that's right, girl!

Baboon: Then we spring the zebras, okapis, bongos, antelope, gazelles ...y'know, the "legs." The simians are next, so swing by here and we'll follow you guys to the main gate.

Zebra: Okay, Babs. We'll lead the way, but make sure your 'mates stay with the herd.

Chimp: Hey, don't worry about us: monkey see, monkey do... just like clockwork baby.

Baboon: Okay, next order of business is the main gate. Who's taking care of that?

Elephant: What's the load rating on that bad boy?

Spider monkey: 4000 lb iron gate, 2 ton steel latch, so I'd say... 2500 lbs of pressure should snap it, if you hit it right at the latch.

Elephant: Sheeit! This's gon' be a baby elephant walk.

Spider monkey: Yeah but you gotta hit the latch side, not the hinge side. Don't forget!

Elephant: Forget? Monkey, Ple-e-ease.

Flamingo: Hey, shouldn't we fly the coop next?

Baboon: If you want the whole neighborhood to know about it! You guys are like a neon sign.

Crocodile: May I suggest we release the meerkats, prairie dogs and possibly the more diminutive primates at an earlier juncture so as to initiate the pre-navigational reconnoissance well-prior to our departure en masse?

Gorilla: Who talks like that? Could you repeat that in plain old junglese, Professor O'Dile?

Cheetah: He means, we should send out the scouts early-on so we know where the hell we're goin'. He's right y'know, 'cause once I make my move, I'm like; Ptweeeeooo! Outta there like a bullet. It would be nice to have a target so I don't overshoot.

Zebra: Oh, you mean like that time my little baby sister gave you that head fake back on the Serengeti? Ha Ha Ha!

Other Zebras: HA-HA-HA Hee-Hee Whineee-e-e Ha-Ha! Zeeb', she put a MOVE on 'im! He was halfway to Mozambique by the time he figured it out! HEE-HEE HA-HA ho- ho.

Hyenas: HYUK-HYUK HA-HA-HA-HO-HO HOO-HOO HA...

Cheetah: SHUT-UP!!! They wasn't talkin' to you, hyena!

Baboon: Settle down! We gotta herd together!

Lion: Damn right! Nobody's eatin' NOBODY until we're all safely back home! And you'd think certain SCAVENGERS would remember who does the dirty work for them.

Buzzard: No shit, Holmes! Don't be dissin' the paw you should be kissin'!

Lionesses: Thass right baby! You don't taste 'em 'til we waste 'em! / HA-HA! You go girl! / High four! (Fub!) / Tell 'em sistah!

Lion: Right! Now back to business!

Hyenas: Tee hee giggle, sorry your Royal Majesty. We have no bone to pick with, er, without you.

Rhino: clomp clomp clomp clomp CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP! (skreech!) What'd I miss?

Elephant: Oh, so nice of you to show up, Mr. Nocerus. You think this is all a BIG GAME?

Rhino: Hey, I figured you were still in the planning stages, what do you need me for?

Lorakeet: Psst, dude, that okapi over there just said: "Well it sure ain't for your brains, you bone-head!"

Rhino: HEY! WHO YOU CALLIN' BONE-HEAD, OKA-PEA-BRAIN!!??

Okapi: How the hell did you hear that?

Rhino: A little birdie told me!

Baboon: Now Look! We're never gonna pull this off if we keep fighting amongst ourselves. Now I don't expect love and devotion between predator and prey, but you herbivores; can't you all just get along?

Gorilla: Speaking of herbivores, is there a giraffe in here? Why don't he speak up?

Giraffe: Thpeak up? I normally have to thpeak down to you, thilly.

Chimp: Hey, how's the weather up there, Stretch?

Giraffe: Gee, that wath tho original.

Hippo: Du-u-h, hey you guys, isn't there like, an ocean between here and Africa?

To be continued...


by numbsain

Click here for the exciting conclusion to Zoobreak!

20 Worst Christmas Gifts

20. Cat Velcro ... Kitty will never stray again

19. Ronco mash-o-matic fingerprint eliminator

18. Toothpaste Bomb Set

17. Fart in a Box

16. What's O.J. Done Now? Board Game

15. Bionic Sphincter Kit

14. Dr. Scientist Kit: Rusty nails, hypodermic needle, 10cc tetanus

13. My Pretty Piercing Parlor—Hours of piercing fun for your tongue, ears, nose, and more!

12. Beanie Afterbirth

11. Potty Mouth Pam Doll - Pull her string and she shouts "Doo Doo Head!" and more!

10. Squirrel Farm

9. Pray Station—Cyberchurch game console plays all your favorites: NUN-chuck, The Sermonizer, X-treme Confession, CyberBible 2000, Rabid Dogmas, PriestMeat Escape, Sunday Mass Murderer and more! Virtual morality for home or pew!

8. Slip 'n Fall—Rooftop Outdoor Water Slide

7. Electronic Handheld Ways-to-Commit-Suicide Suggester

6. Severed Chihuahua head key chain

5. Johnny Tweaker: My First Meth Lab!

4. Streetwalker Barbie & Big Pimpin' Ken

3. Children Buried Under My House Board Game

2. My first anti-depressant - Ages 2 and up

1. Tickle me Father Elmo catholic priest doll

The Mashugga Megillah of the Bialy

by numbsain

A beautiful thing, a real bialy is. It's like a bagel but without the hole in the middle. A good thing, that; If I'm shelling out my dough, Some schmuck taking dough out of the middle of my bagel, I don't need! What do they think, out of my tuchus there's money flying? I should be so lucky. To impress a lady, I would just moon her. God forbid I should be robbed by a homosexual pervert.

But as I was saying, No, instead of a hole, a little indent and some chopped onions and poppy seeds for an extra bonus they put in there. But the starter dough they use, is what makes a bialy "a bialy." And from my mouth to your ear, 150 years ago, in a little town in Poland called Bialystok, that starter dough was first created.

Just a little putz, my grandfather was, when one day, from the bakery he owned, his father came home and the most delicious bread rolls they ever ate, he had with him, a basketful of. To my grandfather, a little wad of dough, he handed and said:

"Menachem, dis dough, with yaw life you should guard. Ven you grow up, a bakery of your own, you vil have and oy, such a success it'll be, with starter dough so good as dis."

A bissel of dough, a teenage boy is supposed to care about?

Weeks and weeks, in his pocket the dough sat and, of course, all the time rising and when it got too big, with his fingers, my grandfather would smoush it down. To read an assignment in front of the class, he was asked by the teacher one day. Standing in front of the class, the bulge in his pants, one girl in the front noticed. Like a puppy dog after that, this young goyeh started following him around. Long story-short, married they ended up, and soon, to America they moved, all because of that dough. Enough gelt to buy a whole new wardrobe, they had, with parents like hers, so rich they were. But the pants wit the dough, he kept always and all the way across the ocean, In a suitcase, in the pocket of the pants, the dough kept rising. Nearly bursting out from the suitcase, the dough was by the time they arrived. "Oy! What is dis? In the garbage, that suitcase should be. A disgusting thing like that i need? Feh!"

So into the trash bin it went. Well, from working at his father's Chinese restaurant down the street, this young Chinese boy came walking along. "In the garbage, they throw pants so good as these?" the boy said in astonishment. Back to his mother, he brought them to be cleaned. "Mazel tov, bubeleh! A fortune we can make with this dough from the pocket of those pants." She told her son.

Now, a pretty good egg roll they made, sure. But a fortune? ...eh, not so much. Troubles like you wouldn't believe, the father was having and the Chinese restaurant... Feh, kaput it went after a year. To clean out the place, they came, the new owners did. And still there, in a pot, was the dough. So big it was getting by then, the owners daughter thought: "Such a waste. Food is food, better I should keep some." So in a little bag she put a smidgen and into the purse.

As luck would have it, sent by a nice man who owned a little bakery, a love letter was waiting when she got home. Who knew? She agreed to meet with him and on their date, still in her purse, the bag of dough was, so to him, she gave it. The best bagels in the world, he made with that dough, so good, a little hole, he didn't want to put, so "No hole!" he said. "Maybe just make a little dent and... I don't know, I could smoush some o' these onions in there, that's good." And that's the history of the bialy as we know it.

"Family Reunion" by Goldmind (click cartoon to enlarge)

Fashion Faux Paws—Road Kill: All the Rage!

numbsain presents


Howdy Holler-Day Shoppers!
I'm Jiblitz!
And I'm Gravy!
We're Grablitz and Jibbly er, Jablitz and Gribbly... (Jam it Grablitz!)

Jiblitz: And today we're here to stand up and make ya Holler-days about a squa-jillion times easier with some blew-it-yer-self,
ex-mess gift eye-deers that'll git them li'l plate-lickers so excited they'll pee in their poop-jay's and just start ricky-shayin' off the walls like bumblebees in a nuke-ro-wave oven!

Gravy: Ooh-weevils, Taint no bow to doubt it, Jib, and it ain't gonna cost ya a hot squat on a porty-pot neither. Cuz we manufabricate everything outta common extra-ordin-every-day items.

Jiblitz: You shed a mouseful there, Gravy', Santa's little heifers ain't got skaddle on us.

Gravy: Today we're gwine to show-n'-tell ya how ta make a fashion mistake-ment outta unlucky jaywalkin' varmints who, through no asphalt o' their own, wound up squarshed under the wheel o' misfortune while trying to live life in the oncoming lane. Ahm talkin' about "Road-kill" "Tread Leather" "Pavement Patch Pets."

Jiblitz: I wish we could say: "No animals were harmed in the makin' of these products" but
in fact, they're 100% harmed animals! Hyuk Hyuk!

Gravy: Only the strong survive and the meek shall be imbedded in the earth! it's all part o' natural see-lection on Jiblitz and Gravy's Wild Kingdom!

Jiblitz: Brp brp brp brrrrrr-drp, Brp brp brp brp, br-drp...

Gravy: Besides, they don't feel pain the way we do...I mean, It hurts but it's a good kind o' hurt. Now did ya scrape us up some street-thins, Jib?

Jiblitz: Ah squirtin'ly did! Just feast yer thighs on this corn-u-copious distortment of asphalt huggers, pat as a flan-cake and stiffened in the noon-day-sun since Sunday noon. Here's a blob-cat, a spread eagle, Looky here! This skunk still gots every hair, but flatter!

Gravy: Flattery will git you every hair!

Jiblitz: Aw... Gawd-Blangit, Gravy! It's McNuggets! She was a damn good layer...

Gravy: She's a thin layer now.

Jiblitz: Now WHY did that chicken cross the road?

Gravy: This is no time fer joking, Jiblitz. Here's a little finch, hot off the grill...

Jiblitz: This is no time fer dinner, Gravy.

Gravy: I meant the grill o' my truck. Whattaya think was the last thing that went through his mind?

Jiblitz: His asshole...

Gravy: You kiss yer cousin with that mouth?

Jiblitz: Only if she's wearin' one o' these!

Gravy: And PRESS-TOE! the Beaver Cleavage Bra!

Jiblitz: And we done it in no time ‘flat.’ Hey Gravy! Lookit what else ah made!

Gravy: Whoa! PERVALERT! Put yer trousers back on Jiblitz!

Jiblitz: Does this cat make mah ass look fat?

Gravy: Spank cod we're outta time

WE'RE JIBLITZ & GRAVY! WE'RE INBREDNECKS BUT AT LEAST WE'RE NOT RELATED!

MERRY FELIZCHRISTMASHANNUKWANZAA an' a Happy Añonuevo-Tet-Passover-Lent-Ramadan...
Jiblitz: Did we leave anybody out?

Gravy: I hope not Jib, ya can't have whirled peas unless ya get 'em all whirled in.

Jiblitz and Gravy was brought to you by
Mystery Meat Jerky Surprise® and
The Law Offices of Gowen, Gowen, Gowen, & Gawn and by
Ostracizer Food Resuscitator ...Bringing food back to life!

NUMBSAIN'S IRATE CHRISTMAS CAROLS

Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!
Sung to the tune of "Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!"

Oh the pressure is getting stronger,
Can't hold it too much longer.
If I can't find any place to go
Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!

Oh the question right now is whether...
I can keep my knees together...
Till I find some place to go...
Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!

Well I guess I drank too much beer...
So just stop by the side of the road.
Or I might have to go right here;
my bladder's about to explode.

I can feel myself start to weaken
I think I might be leakin'
I need to find a place to go...
Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!



Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town
sung to the tune of "Santa Claus IS Coming to Town"

You needn't watch out,
You might as well cry,
I'm not kissing all my money goodbye,
Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town.

The corp'rate ripoffs...
Ain't gettin' a dime.
Ain't spending all my money this time,
Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town.

It's not about religion, a holy day, indeed,
They use our kids to guilt trip us and to satisfy their greed.

This holiday crap...
Is all a big scam.
And frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.
Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town.



Driving Like You Have the Right of Way
Sung to the tune of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland"

On the phone going 80... in your shiny new Mercedes,
Pedestrians run... you just hit one,
Driving like you have the right of way.

Almost cause... a collision...cause you're watching television,
You rear end a cop... don't even stop...
Driving like you have the right of way.

Someones turning left on a green arrow,
You don't even have the right of way,
But your tunnel vision is so narrow,
You go first and think that it's okay.

In your car... at the market... looking for a place to park it,
Though spaces are few, you straddle two,
Driving like you have the right of way.

"Chet" by Goldmind (click cartoon to enlarge)

Investigative Reports: A followup

by Cheddar

Ladies and gentleman, I, Cheddar, recently posted a startling email that began a chain of events that can only be described as earth shattering. I have all but confirmed that Stephen Hawking, Bill Gates, and Woody Allen are one in the same individual, running a triumvirate of power unequaled in any other facet of society. But, ladies and gentlemen, this discovery is merely the tip of the iceberg! It turns out that we, the general public, have been duped by other individuals playing multiple roles, and all for very different reasons. In each case, the magic number appears to be three; as in three different personas. Nevertheless, the cunning involved is monumental! I can confirm beyond a shadow of a doubt that the following individuals, whom I hereby dub "The Axis of Evil," are all pulling the wool over our eyes! Pay heed! Truly notice the similarities.



If these photographs aren't representative of the "Axis of Evil," I don't know what is. Now, separately, these photos may spark recognition in you. The first person pictured hosted "The View" for a while. The second was on a long running show with John Goodman. The third hacked off a stranded writer's foot in a famous movie. But what you did NOT know, until looking at these photographs, is that they are all the same person! I do not know what "it's" real name is. I do not know what "it" does in "it's" spare time. But I do have an as yet unconfirmed reason for this tableau. It is speculated among underground theorists that playing the role of three persons allows this individual the ability to harass Tom Selleck in triplicate! All without his knowledge!



Now here are "three" sinister looking individuals. Or is it? Look again! Notice the flaring nostrils. The gleaming pate. The painted mouth! It's the same person....or robot! That's right! The almost leader of the free world and Nobel sympathy prize winner and the shrewd but satanic owner of the New York Yankees are actually just synthetic flesh over metal endoskeleton! Kind of like the terminator, only boring! With no gun! And a lot of hot air! Why, you ask? Well, that goes back to Hawking/Gates/Allen. This robot was created using Hawking's know-how and Gates's technology to run for president. It could be an excellent monotone and room killing bore, so all that was needed was the cash flow that a run at the White House required. Hence came the "Steinbrenner" programming. This persona single-handedly financed Gore's White House run with still enough money left over to sign Alex Rodriguez. A brilliant robot indeed. Hawking/Gates/Allen's greatest attempt to grab control of the country and, more importantly, control of the nuclear "button" failed only because he underestimated the complete stupidity of Floridians. The laugh is on you "Axis of Evil"! Ha!



"Whoa!" You say. "Wait a second, Cheddar!" you say. "This can't be right!" You say. Many have known for a while that pictures one and three are synonyms, true. But the guy from "Barney Miller?" Abe?

Allow me to defend my research here. Abe Vigoda was long known as a "personable guy." Liked by everyone he came in contact with. Influenced all those around him positively. Had the charisma of a thousand Alexander the Greats. Sound familiar? That's right bible thumpers! The Anti-Christ! Take heed.

Take Bin Laden and shave his beard mentally. What do you see? That's right! The middle picture! The information has been there for you people all along. You've just needed a true diligent investigative reporter like yours truly to start linking the facts and making sense of the chaos. And before you dismiss picture number three as just a visual gag and not a real "third persona," ask yourself: Why haven't we found Osama Vigoda yet? Hmm?" It's hard to assassinate "someone" who can morph themselves into a shiny turd at will! I mean who'd think to shoot a floater? Eh?

Okay ladies and gentleman. For me, the investigation continues. I have more evidence at my fingertips that we have been duped by even more individuals than what's listed here, but my vow is that I will leave no stone unturned in my search for truth! And you the reader WILL know all that I know! Have a happy Holiday!

Test Your Knowledge of American Pop Culture

by numbsain

Which of these is not a breakfast cereal:
1. Post Sugar Crisp
2. Kellogg's Corn Flakes
3. Hall and Oates
4. Fruity Pebbles

Which of these is not a wine:
1. Cabernet Sauvignon
2. Pinot Noir
3. Hannibal Lecter
4. Merlot

Which of these is not a car:
1. Pontiac Lemans
2. Buick Skylark
3. Daewoo Leganza
4. Carmen Electra

Which of these is not a dog breed:
1. Doberman Pincher
2. Irish Setter
3. Jack Russel Terrier
4. Luke Skywalker

Which of these is not a personality disorder:
1. Manic Depressive
2. Passive Aggression
3. Worker's Compensation
4. Obsessive Compulsive

Which of these is not a soft drink:
1. Coca Cola
2. Sprite
3. Dr Jeckle
4. Fanta

Which of these is not a venereal disease:
1. Gonorrhea
2. Hepatitis B
3. Syphilis
4. Hercules

Which one of these does not play the blues:
1. T-Bone Walker
2. Blind Lemon Jefferson
3. Salvation Army
4. Jimmy Witherspoon

Which of these is not a breath mint:
1. Tic Tacs
2. Hemorrhoids
2. Altoids
3. Breathsavers

Which of these is not a dinosaur:
1. Stegosaurus
2. Diplodicus
3. Thesaurus
4. Tyrannosaurus Rex

Which of these is not a musical instrument:
1. Guitar
2. Clarinet
3. Scrotum
4. Trumpet

Which of these is not a detergent brand:
1. All
2. Cheer
3. Tide
4. Flan

Which of these is not a insect:
1. Beetle
2. Wasp
3. Cricket
4. Picachu

Which of these is not a ice cream flavor:
1. Rocky Road
2. French Vanilla
4. Carpal Tunnel
5. Pecan Praline

Which of these is not a board game:
1. Monopoly
2. Scrabble
3. Foreplay
4. Clue

Which of these is not a pain killer:
1. Vicadin
2. Morphine
3. Romulin
4. Valium

Which of these is not a rapper:
1. Snoop Dogg
2. Fitty Cent
3. Macaroni head
4. M&M

Which of these is not a candy bar:
1. Culottes
2. Almond Joy
3. Snickers
4. Three Musketeers

Which of these is not a drink:
1. Vodka Tonic
2. Martini
3. Margarita
4. Glib Midget

Which of these is not a cold cut:
1. Bologna
2. Salami
3. Liverwurst
4. Parcheesi

Which of these is not a desert:
1. Mojave
2. Serengeti
3. Sahara
4. Verizon

Which of these is not an animal:
1. Hippopotamus
2. Giraffe
3. Leopard
4. Elephant Man

Which of these is not a fish:
1. Albacore Tuna
2. Rainbow Trout
3. Goldmind
4. Red Snapper

Odd After-School TV Specials

by Goldmind

We've all watched them - those helpful after-school TV specials educating us on the potential dangers of accepting soggy pornographic magazines from pantless strangers driving decrepit station wagons. The following is a list assembled by our dedicated staff of some particularly memorable specials.

Lemur Star Wars



TV executives in the disco-era received a report indicating that kids between the ages of 10-14 were primarily interested in (1) sex, (2) murder, (3) animals, and (4) the movie Star Wars. Tying these together, Grayson Blown Away Productions released "Lemur Star Wars," which feature red laser blasts, graphic animal mating, and territorial battles in outer space.

You're in hell Charlie Brown



Originally designed to convey traditional Christian values, "Peanuts" generally featured subtle moral lessons. That is, until Charles Schultz released "You're in hell Charlie Brown," designed to serve as a gentle reminder that failing to love Jesus Christ could mean one day waking up in a lake of everlasting fire.

Law School Library - The Reality Series, The Movie



Desiring to cash in on the popularity of reality TV and Princeton Review graduate school acceptance guides, Tortious Films released "Law School Library - The Reality Series, The Movie," which featured 72 hours of raw, unedited footage from a digital camera placed inconspicuously on a centrally located library table. 60 hours of the footage feature an anonymous student snoring while passersby nervously chew their nails.

Klingon Makeover of the Stars



Capitalizing on America's perpetual obsession with actors, as well as catering to a persistent contingent of Star Trek fans, Fallopian Pictures rolled the dice with this 2 hour special showcasing an array of Hollywood talent receiving Klingon make overs.

I Forgot Why I'm Eating this Ice Cream



French Avant-garde filmaker Toussieu Lyon Rhônes-Alpes baffled American audiences with his animated short "I forgot why I'm eating this ice cream." Said Rhônes-Alpes of his film: "La créature est chaude. Il doit manger de la glace. La glace ne fond pas. Effectivement, le printemps de fleurs en avant. Vous êtes la créature. Je vous donne ma glace. Prenez-le."

University Health Services



This peculiar film featured an unknown man, above, standing idly in front of the University Health Services facility, silently, for 30 minutes while staring intensely at the camera. No other scene takes place and the intent of the film is unknown.

Malt Liquor Goggles



This after-school special, focused on the dangers of alcohol consumption at parties, single-handedly decreased malt liquor sales 12% throughout the U.S. Strangely, sales increased in the U.K. and northern California.

Mr. Saturday Night Special

A Night in the Life of Yours Truly

Left: I had the misfortune of running into “Suzette” here at the Arlington Heights Playboy Club. What made it unfortunate was that I was quite inebriated and am now apparently engaged to the chipper fellow pictured. It could be worse, of course. He DOES shave his legs.

by Cheese

It’s Saturday night. A time when a young man’s fancy turns to his pants, or more pointedly, what’s in his pants. Now, I am no longer “young” by most definitions, but I am not quite knocking on death’s door either. I can hear the calling of the frothy mug. I feel the desirable tug of a night spent painting the town. I can taste the freedom of neon lights, gorgeous women, beer nuts, and endless testosterone. So I call my closest friend Mike, grab my fedora, and start driving towards the Arlington Heights Playboy Club.

It’s been years since I’ve set foot in the club. I figured by now there were new employees and I resemble the picture of myself on the wall less than ever, so the lifetime ban imposed on me will be much harder to enforce. Plus, of course, there’s the fedora. No one recognizes you when you’re wearing a fedora, right?

Mike is waiting for me at the entrance. He’s a large man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and ballhugger jeans that would make Steve Perry blush. His heavy brow gives him a look of authority that his comical pompadour all but erases. He’s an excellent drinking buddy because no matter how many beers you put away, he never starts looking like an attractive woman. Or an attractive man for that matter.

Without a word needing to be spoken between us, we pay the cover charge and enter. It takes seconds for all the old familiar sights and smells to overwhelm me. The red brick interior. The plush velvet carpet. The odor of beer, sweat, crisp dollars, and loneliness. I felt right at home. Until........

“Umm, dude,” Mike whispers, his unibrow furrowed in consternation. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

Walking towards us is a pair of “bunnies”, or scantily clad club employees. The one on the left is 300 lbs bone dry, 350 soaking wet I’m sure. The one on the right has a mustache and talks like my uncle Ed. Both of them have Mike and I stopped in our tracks, hands still on wallets, the phantom taste of that first beer still flirting with our tongues.

“Hi fellows,” the buffalo says. “Care to buy a lady a drink?”

“Where do we get the lady?” Mike asks, always as smooth as good bourbon.

“Look no further,” the mustache says, and actually wiggles his hairy ass at me.

I hear Mike make a wretching sound beside me, and move to take action. “Um, we haven’t been here in years. Since when did they start hiring guys as bunnies?” I ask.

“Title IX buddy,” the mustache replies. “It’s not just for women’s athletics, you know?”

“Err, OK,” Mike says. “What’s with the blob here?”

“I prefer metabollicly challenged,” the brontosaurus says. “The American’s with disabilities act covers morbid obesity and ensures that I have the right to work here. Get enlightened gentlemen! Look around!” And with that the “bunnies” moved off.

Sure enough, Mike and I looked around and really took in the employee pool for the first time. There were midgets, crossdressers, siamese twins, amputees, malformed faces, and people in wheelchairs. The only person not represented among the “bunnies” was hot women. We started to back up towards the door.

“I wouldn’t do it fellas,” said a whispering voice. We turned to find an old man huddled over an oak table in the corner. “I tried leaving once like you all. The freaks all came to my house the next morning and screamed about enlightenment in my front yard until every neighbor on my street was sure I hated all the handicapped, crossdressers, and retards on the planet. To this day no one talks to me. My advice would be to go get a beer or three. Pretend to enjoy yourself. Then leave at closing time.”

So we drank. And drank. Then drank a little more. With each one, we were SURE the bunnies would begin to look appealing. Short of that, we hoped for an alcohol induced coma to allow us the opportunity to escape.

Neither occurred of course. We got blitheringly drunk, pretended to have the time of our lives, puked our heads off in the surprisingly clean white porcelain of the club’s restroom then blacked out. Sunday morning we awoke, heads throbbing, in a king sized bed. Mike was spooning with the mustache, and I was tightly holding my Suzette. (see above)

This Saturday, Mike and I are going to watch M*A*S*H* reruns in my living room and drink water. If we feel really crazy, we’re going to go the library and check out books on Title IX and the Americans with Disabilities act. It’s time to write our Congressmen.

Rome, Circa 25 B.C.

Bonus and Meniscus at the Vomitorium, Part I

by Guinness

"Hail, Bonus!" shouted Meniscus from across the forum. "Where you beheaded?"

"It's Sunday, you fool, and as customary, I intend to conjoin with Ignoramus at the vomitorium to gorge myself until filled to the gullet, purge, and repeat until my esophogus is squeaky clean."

"Oh, but of course! My cousin Virus is visiting from the rivalous region of Gaul, and would enjoy an orgy of food and drink...may he attend?"

"Virus? Never heard of him and do not care to have my purge ogled by strange Gauls."
"Oh, it is but my regret. What thoughts have you of the young fellow, Stimulus Terminus?"

"Ah, yes, indeed, bring that one along. I could use a bit of purging at the other end, provided either Ramses, Trojan or Magnum are packing the sheepskins, that is." Bonus dismissed Meniscus with a brusque wave of his heavily braceleted arm.

"Very good, we shall see you at XII sharp then!" called Meniscus after the retreating toga.

The vomitorium teamed with sweating, curly-haired men, some togas hanging off the shoulder, mouths greasy with game juices, wine, grapes and figs. In the center, a stone edged circular recepticle received the exodous of anal and gastric passages. Heaven on Earth, the epitome of man's societal modernization! As Meniscus entered, he spotted Hippopotamus gorging himself with a roasted leg of mutton, Status keeping tabs on the victual levels, Census counting heads, Sinus sneezing vomit from his nasal passages, Hiatus passed out under the fruit table, and his good friend Meniscus with Stimulus Terminus. Fabulous, he thought, and strode to the beverage table... "A shot of tetanus, make it a double."

As Bonus swallowed his beverage, a rucous arose amidst the patrons. Projectilus Vomitus was hurling colorful streams of fruit juiced pork back in a glorious five foot arc which landed dead center into the recepticle. A slightly built toga'd figure underneath the arc screeched "ROJECTILEPAY OMITVAY!" in a female voice. Every good citizen of Rome knew women weren't allowed in the vomitorium.

"Ceasar! er SEIZE HER!" the crowd clamored.

end of part I.

Ask Schopenhauer's Ghost: The Video

Helpful relationship advice from a dead, cynical existentialist philosopher.



by Spec & Goldmind

Bigots Are All Alike

by numbsain

Ah! Heah we go princess, Lou-weegee's Gawmay Cuizeen, eh? Eh? Ya like Eye-talian food don'tcha? Well don'tcha? Ya gotta eat, I mean look atcha, ya nuthin' but skin and bones fuh cryin' out loud. So you could eat, right? Right?

Y-e-e-s mother-r-r.

Uh-right. Eye-talian food is good. I hope it's not one o' them Mafia owned joints, Yaw fathuh would NEVUH go eat Eye-talian. "They're all mobsters," he'd say...

Oh Mom, please!...

Ooooh! Red cawpets! Classy joint eh?... Pahty of two please.

Spit out your gum, mother.

Uh-boy, lookit, ya see dat guy? Ya see Skah-face ovah theah? Mafia written awl over 'em. Oy vey.

Mother, he's a waiter.

Oh no, Scah-face is a hit man fuh the mob ahm tellin' ya. Look at his eyes... (bas-tuhd)

Oh, hello, ah'll have the... um, louey-gweeno crab-on-aro an' do you have Manischevitz? Oh, then just a house white, thank yew.

Oh... Moy... Gawd! Lookit, look at dis what just wawked in! It's Chahlie Chan an' the Dragon Lady. Lookit huh; She's prah-bly 95 yeahs old and she looks like she' s fawty. Dat's them Awri-entals, they nevah age. Oh, lookit what he's got! dat's not a suit case, oh no, Chahlie Chans got a machine gun in theah! Dat's the Chinese Mafia right theah, Ahm tellin' ya!

Mother you are really going too far this time! Now just stop it!

Oh... foyn! (sniff) so that's the way ya tawk to ya muthuh... (snuk) I know when I'm not wanted.

Mother please.

Naomi Lookit! ya see doze Pawtuh Reekins ovah theah? Lookit Pancho's got a box! and they keep lookin' at Shang-hai Chahlie ovah theah!

Mother!

And Scah-face ovah theah keeps lookin' at 'em too! ...Oh moy gawd! Didjoo see dat? Pancho just winked at Scah-face and theah both lookin' at da Chinaman! Honey, uh, I gotta go pow-duh my nose...

Hello is dis the police station? ...You gotta get some squad cars down to Luigi's right away! It's a shoot out!!! somethin' big is goin' down heah! Hurry!

I'm back! whud I miss? It's okay baby, yuh muthuh took care of it. ...Oy Gutten Himmel! Lookit Naomi! See dat tray? He's got a AK-fawty seven under theah. Its a HIT! Get unduh the table honey! Lookit Pancho an' his gang are gettin' up and wawkin ovah theah too! Theah gonna rub out Shang-Hai Chahlie right heah! Stay behind me baby!

Mom! what are you doing?!

AWRIGHT FREEZE YOU BASTUHDS!!! PUT DOWN THE TRAY!! YEAH YOU, SCAH-FACE OVAH THEAH! AND DROP DAT BOX, PANCHO!!! ONE FAWLSE MOVE AN' I'LL BLOW YA FRIKKEN HEADS AWF!

MOTHER!!! WHERE DID YOU GET THAT GUN?!?!

DROP THE GUN LADY!!!

Oh, Awffisuhs, heah's my gun. Thank Gawd you got heah just in time!

Let's go lady, put 'er in the squad car. You too miss.

Is everybody okay here? You okay Luigi? ...Oh good. By the way, thanks for catering the policeman's ball the other night. You okay Mayor Gutierrez? Oh great, The new youth center is really coming together, great work there sir. Councilman Chin, I apologize for this mess, I guess she spoiled the surprise but I hope that crazy old bat didn't completely ruin your evening sir. My partner took her down to the station so there won't be any more trouble. Well if everybody's alright, mind if I stick around and sing? ...Thanks, make a wish Councilman...

HAP-PY BIRTH-DAY TO YOU...

editor's note: nothing here is meant to be anti-semitic. Especially given the fact one of us is Jewish!

Computer Advancements Surprising the Hell out of Grownups

In the photo above, a middle-aged man is startled by the functionality of an imac computer. Here, he is viewing a real-time image of himself in "Photo Booth." Such ridiculous expressions have become increasing common and have contributed to a national decline in lockjaw fatalities.

by Goldmind

AP Reports. Computer Advancements are increasingly surprising the hell out of grown men and women, a new federal study reveals. Once the exclusive realm of post-depression era Luddites, even America's Atari generation has become aghast at the latest software/hardware developments and the number of otherwise dignified grownups holding their mouths open and wagging their tongues while uttering ridiculous phrases like "this is more real looking than space invaders" has substantially increased.  

"In my day, Intelevision was the cats pajamas," said David Lindholm, a confused gentleman in his late 60's. "My portable phone & carrying case was the shiznit back when I was listening to the Fat Boys - it wasn't even rotary dial, it made me super cool. Now, I hear they can make cell phones that weighs less than 10 pounds."

Exacerbating the crisis, a follow up study indicated that further advances could possibly occur. "Lord have mercy, it's just amazin'," said Edna Jones, an elderly woman with blue hair walking out of First Baptist Church in Hazelhurst, Georgia. "I'm glad I'm about to meet Jesus, 'cause Lord it sure is confusing."