Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Pu Pong The Panda Pediatrician

Dr. Pu Pong
Pu Pong the Panda leaned his big panda back against the cold cement wall.  Pu Pong had a lot of time to think, so thought to himself "Life is. . . . . Moderately adequate." And it was!  Pu Pong had all the bamboo he could eat, there are people that clean up his poop and he is occasionally introduced to terrified panda women for awkward, panicked intercourse.  Life was moderately adequate.
Pu Pong never really had any other ambitions than eating bamboo, forced mating and pooping.  It was all he knew.  When he was in the outdoors portion of his enclosure, he was watched by dozens of humans.  Pu Pong liked the laughing children best, their smiling faces warmed Pu Pong's heart.   Pu Pong was born in a zoo just like his mother.  Pu Pong did not get to spend too much time with his mom.  Which was fine, she probably would have eaten Pu Pong anyway.  Living his whole life in the zoo, he never imagined the possibilities that existed for an eager panda in the outside world. 

One day a new zookeeper started working in the Pu Pong's enclosure, cleaning his poop and keeping his bamboo pile overflowing.  This person brought a small television and set it up in the "employees only" portion of Panda exhibit.  Pu Pong had never seen a television before, its bright colors and sounds dazzled him.  Pu Pong would spend hours watching show after show through the bars of his cage.  The zookeeper saw that Pu Pong loved watching television and started leaving it on at night for him.  The more television that Pu Pong watched the more he understood.  He started to see the pictures better.   At first what were multi-colored blobs, started to become recognizable shapes.  He could see that there were pictures of humans inside the TV and the noises were human speak.  Pu Pong understood a little bit of human speak.

Pu Pong spent night after night, watching and learning.  He learned about so many things; firemen, the ocean, dogs, foot-long sandwiches, Miss Marple, cartoons, World War II and he loved all of it.  Pu Pong was no longer Moderately Adequate, he was depressed.  "All these wonderful things exist in the world and all I get is enslavement in cement walls being gawked at by humans." thought Pu Pong.   "The whole world is just waiting for me!Pu Pong decided to not let his bitter, caged existence limit his career choices. 

Pu Pong's favorite television show was about a daring pediatrician who saves children by day and solves crimes by night.  He would watch the show every evening.  After several months of watching, Pu Pong decided that he was ready.  He decided that he was now a Panda Pediatrician.  He would help children in need with his surgeon's skill and detective's wit.  If only he could get his paws on a child in need.

Pu Pong started spending a lot more time in the outdoor portion of his enclosure.  There were always children watching from above his cement wall during the day.  He would wave at them and invite them to come down into his enclosure.  The children would just laugh and point.  Pu Pong assumed that all of these children must not be ill and that is why they are not accepting his offers of free pediatric care.

One fine day, Pu Pong was eating some bamboo, when sick child jumped into Pu Pong's enclosure.    "Oh Joy!" thought Pu Pong "A patient!"  The people above started screaming.  "The people are panicking, the boy must be very sick!"  Pu Pong rushed forward and scooped the young boy into his cuddly panda arms.  The child screamed and began to struggle.  "I estimate the child to be about 11 years old in age, his flailing leads me to believe that the child is suffering from seizures.  I must make sure that the boy does not swallow his tongue.  The Doctor is in!"  

The boy froze when a large, hairy, mildly poo covered panda paw forced its way into his mouth.   Pu Pong gently rocked the boy back and forth.  "I did it!  I have cured you of your epilepsy." thought Pu Pong "Nice work Dr. Pu Pong.  I better make sure the boy was not injured in the fall"  With his sharp teeth and claws, Pu Pong ripped all of the clothing off of the terrified boy and carefully inspected him.  "Just a few scrapes, you'll be fine lad."  Pu Pong dragged the shocked, naked boy to the doorway leading to indoor portion of his enclosure.  "No need to thank me boy, your good health is payment enough." 

Several zookeepers entered brandishing tranquilizer guns.  "No need for those gentleman, the boy is calm and healthy and no longer a public threat."  The zookeepers carefully removed the stunned boy from the enclosure.   The people above broke into applause.  "Applause is not necessary, I'm just doing my job." thought Pu Pong "Who's the next child in need of my pediatric miracles?"  Pu Pong laid back against the cement wall waiting for his next patient to tumble into his cage, content.

My Incriminating Bioethical Violation

Welcome to my anonymous blog.  I am a 38 year old female Psychiatrist living on the east coast.  I am married without children, and my husband tells me I look like a cross between Dr. Phil and Angelina Jolie.  He is such a sweetheart.  A sexually repressed self-loathing closet homosexual with a gym sock fetish, but still a sweetheart.

Alright, I am writing this blog post because I am in desperate need of an outlet to complain about my patients.  You see, I spend every day of my life listening to other people whine about their problems.  I maintain a professional demeanor the whole time, but in the back of my head I am thinking "Holy fuck, lady.  Why are you so worried about your husband gambling all the time when you have a MOLE THE SIZE OF A FUCKING NICKEL ON YOUR FOREHEAD!"  And don't fool yourself.  Anybody that is paid to care for you hates your guts.  It's just the way it works.  It is for this reason that I refuse to go to a Psychiatrist myself.  And perhaps it is an ego issue, but I couldn't keep from mentally criticizing any of my peers every moment of the session.

So let me start by detailing my least favorite weekly appointment.  I can't give any identifiable information here for obvious reasons, but I think this forum is anonymous enough that I won't run into any problems.  His name is "Sam", and he has been visiting my office for eight months.  Sam is 24, has a very slight build, and is as polite as punch to everyone in the office.  Everyone except me.  Sam claims to have an uncontrollable urge to masturbate at inappropriate times, like during meetings with his Psychiatrist. 

I say he "claims" to have these urges for a couple of reasons.  First, how convenient is it that you have to visit a female Psychiatrist for your masturbation condition?  Second, what 24 year old male doesn't have uncontrollable urges to masturbate constantly?  All I know is that I have had to resort to seating him in a metal folding chair on a barn tarp.  I have a hard time effectively counseling a person when I have to sit 20 feet away from them for fear of having to throw away another soiled blouse.

I also have a woman that I see somewhat regularly, whenever she can afford my services.  She doesn't get paid much at her job working for Parking Authority in our area.  She seeks my services to help her cope with crippling social anxiety, to the point that she cries whenever I accidentally make eye contact with her.  I have no fucking CLUE how she makes it through her daily job giving parking tickets.  I imagine she scares away anyone that challenges her with her shrieking cries and torrent of tears.  I fully expect to hear that she killed herself anytime now, and frankly I don't really give a shit.  I already have a mental list of answers to the questions the police ask a mental health professional that was seeing a suicide case.  "No, officer.  She seemed stable the last time I saw her."  Yeah right.

Well I already feel better.  Maybe I will do this again.  God knows I have enough material shambling into my office everyday, and tomorrow I have to see another pedophile.  I fucking hate the government.  They ALWAYS find a way to send perverts my way.  Maybe I will make him use the folding chair and barn tarp, too...

Tuesday, August 30, 2011


Hey folks! 

My fucking cell phone is a video recorder!  The future is fucking cool.  There is now a Popular Irony YouTube page.  It has one illustrious video.  The very video that is posted below.  So sit back, whip out yer Cock-Stick or yer Poon-Toggle and enjoy.  Merman.  A film that took longer to upload than it did to create. 


Baccy Seeds! Delicious Smokeless Sunflower Seeds

Are you addicted to nicotine?  Have you ever tried to quit?  Did you use sunflower seeds to distract you from your addiction?  Millions have done the same thing and failed miserably, just like you! 

Over 80% of nicotine addicts that have attempted unsuccessfully to quit reported that they tried sunflower seeds.  The idea is that when you have seeds in your mouth it is difficult to smoke or chew tobacco, and the process of eating them satisfies the oral fixation.  But what about those of us that resigned ourselves to a certain untimely death? 

After accepting that you will never defeat your addiction you must also accept that sunflower seeds are incompatible with your habits.  Until NOW!

Delicious Salty Tobacco Flavor!
Introducing new Baccy Seeds!  The only casual snack that satisfies your hunger AND your cravings!  Just imagine the convenience in the ballpark, on a public bus, or while on a commercial flight!  They can go anywhere!  And the best part is... no one knows you are an addict!

And remember to visit your fine tobacco outlets for our other new products:  Baccy Eye Drops, Baccy Adhesive Bandages, and Baccy Suppositories!

Only for adults age 18 and over.  Consumers must exercise restraint when enjoying Baccy Seeds.  If inflammation of the esophagus occurs see a doctor immediately.  Always wear latex gloves when handling Baccy Seeds.  Baccy Seeds are not legal for human consumption in the states of AZ, IA, MT, VT, NH and WV.  Pending FDA approval, copyright 2011.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Glenda Bekk and the Blessed Hurricane

- Glenda Bekk -
Licensed Opinionomotrist
Hey Ya'll!  Sso the crazsiesst thing happened the other day.  I was talking to Durleen at the Qdoba and sshe ssaid that God iss like mad at people in the easst and iss like throwin hurricaness and earthquakess and junk at them.  It is like totally crazsy but I like, totally called it. 

Like, how many warningss do you like, think ya'll are gonna to get, or whatever, and like, how many warningss do ya'll desserve? Thiss hurricane that like totally came thorough the Easst Coasst, for anyone who’ss in the Easst Coasst and hass been lisstening to me ssay it for yearss ‘Food sstorage!’ ‘Be prepared!’  Causse like, food iss really important and Jessuss and junk. 

If ya'll like didnt get lotss of foodss ssaved up then thiss hurricane is like a blesssing or whatever. It iss like totally a blesssing. It iss God reminding ya'll, jusst like that big ole earthquake lasst week — it’ss God reminding you you’re not in control.  That he iss and God will fuck your sshit up if you like, don't pray to him or whatever. Thingss can like, totally happen. I hope ya'll can be prepared and be ssomeone who can help otherss sso when dissasster sstrikess, God forbid, ya'll are not panicking or whatever. 

I like, wass totally talking to our Heavenly Father and he ssaid that he totally created thiss beautiful earth, with like, all itss abundance, for our benefit and usse. Hiss purposse iss to provide for our needss ass we walk in faith and obediencse.  He like, totally ussed the wordss "rape the land" and junk.  He hass lovingly commanded uss to “prepare every needful thing”… sso that, sshould adverssity like, come, we can totally eat and junk and like our neighborss can eat and anybody who sshares our political and like, religiouss beliefss can totally have some of God's hurricane bounty or whatever.

Sso don't ya'll forget!  Hurricaness are God'ss way of teaching us why it'ss good to sshop in bulk and junk.  Whenever ya'll ssee a hurricane you sshould run out and ssay "Hi God!  Thankss for the friendly reminder!"  

Ssmoochess -Glenda Bekk

World Exclusive: Dick Cheney's Memoir Revealed

Dick Cheney is releasing his memoir In My Time soon, and he promises to make "heads explode" in Washington. Popular Irony has obtained an advanced reader's copy and will highlight some of the juicy details in the first world-exclusive scoop.

To begin, we will review some of the emotional dynamic that developed between President and Vice President immediately following the terrorist attacks on 9/11.

America was under attack, the country faced uncertain political and economic turmoil, and I was in the oval office. The lights dimmed low and a tv playing unending soap opera reruns, I ran my fingers through the President's hair and grumbled reassurances. George turned his head in my lap to peer up at me with eyes fatigued from weeping into my trousers.

"It wasn't supposed to be me" he cried. "Jeb is the smart one. Everyone knows it. Even momma likes him better... she says they named the wrong one after daddy!"  We had this conversation weekly for the next 7 years, and it always ended the same way. With the President weeping into my lap, and me battling chronic diaper rash from all the moisture. I asked David Satcher, then Surgeon General for his diagnosis, and he labeled the ailment "athlete's crotch".

Next Cheney switches to lighter memories of his term as Vice President, taking a few friendly jabs at his gaff-prone partner George W. Bush.

Back in January 2002 the President had a big scare. If you recall, he passed out after choking on a pretzel while watching a football game, leaving me terrified that I was so close to being forced into the executive chair. I felt the way Jeff Dunham might feel if his luggage was destroyed. Like I was going to have to go out on stage alone, without my hand up an idiot's backside.

But all was well and we had some fun at the President's expense. I had the White House cafeteria serve soft pretzels with a knife and fork to George, and bowls of pretzels popped up everywhere with notes like "beware" on them. Once I even picked out an obese paige and dressed him in a suit, then introduced him to George as a new Secret Service agent in charge of pre-chewing his food. Everyone burst out laughing, but like all good jokes it went right over George's head. The President shook the paige's hand and asked if his new Agent would be chewing all his food, or just the pretzels. Unbelievable.

Here we manage to gain some insight into the developmental mind of young Dick Cheney, and how his views on torture were formed at an early age.

I am disgusted by all this opposition to torture. It is quite effective, and can even be good fun! I learned about the application of pain to extract actionable intelligence at a very early age. Once when I was seven I beat the soles of my mother's feet to determine where my Christmas presents were hidden. And you know what? Every single year she sang like a bird, and always gave accurate intel.
Strangely absent is the much-anticipated story of how he died back in 1997, and managed to remain in political prominence despite the greatest possible handicap. He also dodges nearly any mention of his hunting accident in 2006, making only this ominous comment of the victim Harry Whittington: "He knows why it happened". Cheney's reluctance to address his untimely demise and other controversial topics is only serving to increase speculation that he is developing the world's first full length posthumous autobiography.  Here's hoping.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

The True Story of Noah's Ark

Father Dunson Gramalazzo
Hello everyone, sorry about being late again.  As you can see I now have a double case of the pink-eye.  It seems that I was allergic to the eyedrops That Dr. O'Neil provided for me.  Thank you Dr. O'Neil,  no, no sit down Dr. O'Neil. I was being sarcastic.  You are a terrible Doctor.  So the allergic reaction weakened my eyeball's immunity and now I've got double pinkeye.  It won't stop twitching and .  I . . . can't . . . . . stop . .  ruuuuubing theemm ahhhhhhh.  Well, where did you all get to without me?  

Ok,   let's see. . . .   Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of mercy, our light, our sweetness, and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. . . . . . . .   Am I boring you Joey Turner?  Yes, you Joey Turner. . . What do you have there?  An Iphone?        Are you playing that new Angry Birds? . . . . . .  Do you know who's anger you should be looking out for?  God.  God's wrath is not some shit to trifle with Joey Turner.  I am really disappointed in your parenting Mrs. Turner.  Joey, as a direct result of your inane oafishness I am going to regale you with an example of God's wrath, as a warning.   This is the last fucking straw Joey Turner.

Way back in the days before Super-Jesus burned the sin out of Galilee with his Holy Laser Eyes.  Long before Judas hollowed out that obese Roman Senator and wore him as a skin-suit.  Even before Moses and the Jews battle the Evil Whorde, the roaming horde of demon possessed whores.  Before all that bullshit, there was Noah.  

So God is up there watching his humans.  He gazed disappointed, the sons and daughters of Adam were filthy, uneducated and violent.  The majority of them spend their time screwing, drinking a strong alcoholic beverage brewed from mushrooms and apples and sleeping in the dirt.  

God saw what a bunch of fuck-ups those created in his image had become and he saw what a shit job they did taking care of the earth.

God watched all these little douchebags lying, cheating, killing, raping, maiming, cannibalizing, necropheliating and rapant beastialitizing.   He saw that maybe he fucked this batch up a little bit.  God figured that is was easier to start over than try to fix something that was already broken.

So God decided to flood the entire earth and drown out all the scum and villainy to make way for the new "Perfect Being".  God powered up his rain machine and set it to maximum output.  The rain machine ran on plutonium, of which God had just enough to cover the earth for 40 days and 40 nights.  "This should be easy" Thought God, "I can't imagine I would need any more Plutonium anyway."

Little did God know, there was a single human inadvertently prepared for the forthcoming deluge.  His name was Noah, the owner and proprietor of "Noah's Crazy Animal Sex Ark and Pleasure Palace".  It was an "anything goes" sex club that ran on the gimmick of it being inside a giant boat.  For some reason it worked.  It was the most successful of the multiple sex clubs in the region. 

Noah's slogan was "Two of Every Animal".  People came from miles around to see the zoo and for an extra price, take a "special ride" on the animal of your choice.  It was a family business ran by Noah his wife, his three sons; Shem, Ham, and Japheth and their wives. 

Suddenly the rain started pouring.  God knew that the flood would take care of his problem so he set to designing his new "Perfect Being" which will inherit his new earth.  God did not notice that when the flood waters rose, a boatload of perversion and sin rose with it.  

Noah and his family all lived inside the ark with the reeking animals.  The waters rose quickly tossing the boat back and forth.  Between bouts of vomiting and being sloshed with animal waste, Noah wondered "Is this boat even really seaworthy?"  The boat had slow leaks and had the be emptied frequently.  Noah's family took turns on bucket lines of seawater and animal shit, dumping them overboard.  

After several weeks, the inside of the boat was a complete hell hole.  Nobody could differentiate where the feces ended and anything else began.  Many wonderful animal species were lost to disease or overwhelming depression.   Suddenly the boat struck something.  Noah climbed onto the deck  and saw that the rain had finally stopped and the boat was stuck on top of a steep fucking mountain. 

God heard his rain machine finally run out of plutonium and shut off.  It was good timing, God had just finished his "Perfect Being" and was eager to get them started on the earth.  His new creation was kinder, gentler and devoid of aggression and sexual impulse.  It was a being based on peace and love.  "I can't wait to see these fuckers in action" thought God.

God set up his new creations with a lush, verdant valley.  His new people set quickly to work, farming, exploring and most of all, learning.  God was proud.  Feeling that the earth was in good shape, he turned his attention to building other planets in the galaxy.  He would check on earth in a few thousand years.

God left a little too early.  His did not notice that several humans and many animals survived his great flood.  Noah's descendants grew in number rapidly.  The inbred legion swept across the land consuming all in its wake.  

Over the years, God's new creations had created a utopian society.  A great city, a true site to behold.  There was no illness and everyone was utterly content.  At least they were.  Within days of being spotted by the humans, the city was overrun.  The "Perfect Beings" were raped, disemboweled and eaten.  They stood no chance against the murderous cannibal army.

The "Perfect Beings" extinct, the humans moved into the great city.  They rediscovered a form of "Society" and moved from constantly killing each other to occasionally.  The humans reproduced for thousands of years and here we are.  Woopty doo!

God probably thinks that we are all his new creations and that he fucked up again.  If God was ever to find out that we are those fucking flawed ass humans he tried to flush out of existence all those years ago, he would be pissed.  What do you think he would do to you Joey Turner?  Thank goodness God blamed himself and created Jesus to go down and fix his mistakes.  And, Ta-Da! Catholicism.  

Well I hope you enjoyed the classic story of Noah's Ark.  If anyone has any recommendations for a new doctor, I would appreciate it.  Don't look at me like that Dr. O'Neil, you know you done fucked up.

Popular Irony Journal of Medicine: Venereal Disease Edition

Medical advancements in wiener and cooter ailments have allowed for the documentation of several new classifications of venereal diseases.  Most of this recent proliferation of new STDs is directly attributable to a statistical rise in sexual ferocity among unclean men and women living in public parks and sewers, resulting in government grants for research in the field.  Of the new diseases a profile is included for those that occur in >0.005% of the tested demographic.

The infected mass is crowning
Vaginal Ichthinosia commonly known as "Carpet Rot" has been linked to promiscuous activity on soiled high school wrestling mats.  It appears to be a variety of staph infection that is limited to the vaginal wall, and causes regular discharges of steaming mass.  Treatment is best left to medical professionals, and when diagnosed should be admitted immediately for a saline pressure cleaning.

Withercock can startle your partner
Necrophallitis  also called "Withercock" is the best documented of the three ailments here.  All known cases are directly caused by chronic masturbation in males employed in the sanitation industry.  Mostly septic and sewer workers, but also prevalent in plumbers, the symptoms include a "degloving" effect, with the skin coming lose from the base of the penis and detaching entirely.  It's onset can be surprisingly fast, necessitating immediate medical attention.  The cruel truth is that the embarrassment of the inflicted results in irreparable damage before proper attention is sought.

Liberal application of salt works wonders.
Arilomax phagephallus  There is some controversy about the inclusion of a parasite in the category of venereal diseases, but with it's sole method of transmission being sexual activity it is being profiled as an STD.  It is unknown what lays the eggs in the great lakes of North America, but male divers in the region sometimes contract dormant eggs in their urethra, staying attached until they are released during sexual intercourse.  The eggs pupate into a deeply embedded parasitic slug on the vaginal wall.  Diagnosis by a medical professional is important because extraction seems deceptively simple, but unless burned with salt the slug will release a painful venom that can incapacitate the victim for days.

Pending further research we will offer updates in the field of venereal diseases in future volumes, as well as profiles of other upcoming prolific horrifying ailments.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Soupy Sucklins - An Ode to Painful Diarrhea

I had planned to do a post about a monkey who is forcibly castrated and goes on to fight crime in a tough inner city neighborhood, but I suddenly had a severe attack of the Poop N' Pukes.  I would have gotten liftoff from the diarrhea alone but the reverse thrust of the vomiting kept me in place.  So, in-between bathroom visits, I present to you the first two stanzas of my Ode to Painful Diarrhea. Soupy Sucklins.

My gut aches, and the Soupy Sucklins pulse
My pucker, as though of Montezuma I have drunk,
Or emptied a fetid bag of rotting repulse
Gripping the toilet rim, feces covered junk
'Tis through my mouth escapes the lunch lost,
But flaming anus, makes me anusless
That thou, toilet paper out of reach
In some malodorous plot
Of leavings hot and brown, exiting regardless,
Liquid of digestion in a swollen gutted breeze.

I see reflection in the sweat pooling at my feet.
What fetid incense stains upon the walls,
But, in liquid darkness, gives prickly heat
Wherewith toilet water splashes upon my balls
The pubes, the thicket, matted with mess;
White knuckled I unleash into the bathtub
Fast departing mouthfuls of lunches past
And Soupy Sucklins, I wish I could repress
The coming musk-fog, thick like a smoky pub
The murmurous haunt of flies begging to be gassed.


Now go make yourself a sandwich and let your thoughts dwell on the beauty I have presented to you.  I am off for another round of burning bung and the dizzy heaves.

Hamtackle 2012!

Greetings, my fellow Americans. Due to a recent failure to raise funding for a 90 second commercial detailing my campaign platform, I reach out to you all again in this wonderful grassroots format, the internets. And since I take the responsibility of educating my future constituents very seriously, please take a few moments to familiarize yourself with the policies you will soon be adopting.

We live in a world where weakness is coddled, and anyone can make their way on the backs of the more able among us. Furthermore, advances in medicine and healthcare have made dying from stupidity nearly impossible. To address this concern and purge the American populace of undesirable genes, I propose a ban on reduced speed zones near schools.

This may seem like a rather dramatic approach to the problem, but we must accept that while every person has a right to life, they also have an obligation to the application of common sense. And I can tell you this: my children know to stay the hell out of the street.

The Hamtackle administration would also make election reform a priority, introducing a multiplier for voters that performed in the top ten percent on a political intelligence examination. The exam would be entirely optional, but could allow for a x2 value for your vote if passed.

My opponents say this practice would be prejudicial against the uneducated and feeble-minded. I couldn't agree more. But before we engage in a civil rights debate let me point out that no rights are being taken away, but rather supplemented for those that put in the effort to understand the issues.

And why is it that my fellow Presidential candidates refuse to even reply to my campaign on these matters just shows that their well has been poisoned by partisan business-as-usual politics in Washington. Since I am unable to obtain an invitation to any of the currently scheduled Presidential debates I will be forced to represent my supporters via the Twitter. Please tune in on September 7th to see my rebuttal and commentary.

Thank you, America.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Chud's Bud Depot

Hey man,

Welcome to the Chud's Bud Depot man.  I'm Chud, master of the bud.  Can I please see your medical marijuana card?  I'm just fucking with you man! Huh huh huh.  Oh, you have one. . . Weird.

Chud of Chud's Bud Depot
So what kind of high are you lookin for man?  Do you like loopy highs with mellow fluffy lows or do you like a steamy, zippy buzz?  Do you like gettin spliffy blitztastic man?  . . . . . . . You don't know?  Don't tell me you are a green virgin, bro.  . . . . . . . .  You get headaches so your doctor said you should get weed?  Like, for real man?  So, like, you really need that prescription man?   . . . . .  That is fuckin crazy, bro.  Well don't worry man, Chud's got all the smoke you can toke.  I have several recommendations that are perfect for your brain cancer bro, or whatever.

First up man is the Stinky Purple Waffle.  Take a wiff.  . . . . Aw yeah, right!?  Smells like a skunk took a shit on your ball hammock right bro?  That is some good smoke bro.  This shit will get you high, cause you to become distant from your family, get your girlfriend's much younger sister pregnant and make you drop out of school.  It is that good bro. 

 Are there more than one variety??!  Huh huh huh huh Fuck yeah bro!   There is The Salty Riverdance, The Violet Strangler, The Tracheotomy Kush, The Purple Tipped Mouthful, The Blue Dandy, The Aurora Gingivitis, The Trojan Push, The Unwanted Dirty Fingers in your mouth (that's an Indica),  The Brown Dollop, The Amsterdam Purple Syphilis, The Priapism Haze, The Public Defender, The Afghanni Cosmonaut, The Molesting Priest, The Hormel No Beans Chili and my personal favorite The Used Pineapple Dildo. 

How about you try this. . . . The Porcelain Princess.  It's umm.. . . another kind of weed. . . . and it um . . .  gets you high. . .  Hey man,   am I reading this right?  Do you want to bone me bro?  . . Come on man, don't act like that.  Don't be embarrased bro,  I have that power over dudes.  Dudes are totally straight until they get a good look at my fuckin dreads man. 

What say we get some Purpletastic AssBlastic and head up to my apartment bro?  We can get fuckin lit up! Smoke smoke puff puff.  You feelin me bro?  Then we can totally blow each other and play some XBox?  . . . . . . Your wife if waiting in the car?  It's cool, she can totally blow me too, man.

The Patriotic Historical Revisionist Society of America

Welcome, faithful reader. Please join us in our efforts to rightly elevate America to it's once unchallenged position at the peak of world power. Due to the recent decline in our economy and waning popularity worldwide we are taking action. With an uncertain future we must rebuild our past, so welcome to the first edition of The Patriotic Historical Revisionist Society of America's first propaganda newsletter. Make sure to write your congressman and include this link to support the pro-America movement.

We start with little known stories of American greatness as they are remembered and celebrated by our European friends across the Atlantic ocean. Many Americans of French ancestry observe Bastille Day on every July 14, and they know that the holiday commemorates the third major event of the French revolution in 1789 when the Bastille, a monolithic prison fortress, was overrun by the bourgeoisie.

What many historians leave out of the story robs our founding fathers of some measure of their legendary historical status. The French revolution is closely tied to the economic downturn suffered by the working class after Louis XVI backed the American revolution, thus striking a blow to their hated enemy, the English. Being true and righteous liberators of oppressed people, Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin secretly traveled to France to lead the bourgeoisie on their aggressive storming of the iconic prison fortress. Although the two great American leaders faced many challenges, such as the constant distraction of French women demanding sexual satisfaction, and rallying the French men hourly to avoid mass surrender, the typical composure and style of the young American leaders prevailed.  And that is the story of how Jefferson and Franklin defeated not one, but TWO European world powers.

The amazing legacy that the founding fathers earned championing the oppressed American masses stands on it's own merit. But it is truly astounding to think that these men were so faithful to their ideals that they were willing to go against their only international ally in the name of liberty.  And the world rightly took notice of the upstart country that was running the scene, and fell in line to absorb and emulate the growing culture and grace.

So the next time July 14th rolls around instead of waving the French flag, wear your finest sweatpants and drink beer in a lawn chair in your yard. This will help remind your neighbors that they live in the best damn country in the world.  And to any reader unfortunate enough not to be American themselves,  you are welcome.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Masturbation Enthusiast Monthly

 Welcome, all!  This is the world's only forum for the masturbation connoisseurs the world over, celebrating six years of excellence in the field of self love.  Our mission is simple, to change the perception of masturbation in the public at large, and fight for masturbator's civil rights, such as the right to masturbate in public restrooms, or in crowded elevators.  And above all, published with the interests of the one handed reader in mind.

Our personal successes have been many and our political successes few, but we feel that with the masturbation populace between 95% and 99% we need only to appeal to the rational jackoff artist in each of us.  So whether you are flicking the bean, or punching the clown, we have something here for almost everyone on earth! 

First we share some brief testimonials from some of our faithful subscribers.  Occasionally masturbation can change our lives forever, and these people decided to share their stories with us.

"When attending a PTA meeting I walked in on my son's geography teacher masturbating furiously in the restroom.  We shared a laugh, and my son got straight A's!" - Gill Wesley, PA

"Once I discovered the secret edge for symmetrical forearm size in competitive bodybuilding I won eleven world titles!  My secret? Alternating hand masturbation techniques!" - Pal Chimple, NV

"After I overcame the shame of my body and began masturbating openly my life improved dramatically.  I got promoted at work, started dating every week, and got out of four traffic tickets!"  Michelle Humer, MI
And finally we have a few new masturbation methods developed by the finest autoerotic artisans the world over.  Enjoy the delights of the only always consensual, always disease free, always satisfying form of sexual activity in existence. 

The "Bad Boy" Beatoff:  This example comes to us from the sexually repressed era of religious fundamentalism in Europe.  At the time even ACTUAL sex was frowned upon, and the resulting drop in birth rates made finding suitable partners a frustrating enterprise.  This led to an explosion on masturbation innovation, with this being a rare surviving example.  Make your next jackoff a historic journey with this method!

The Abusive Approach:  Try out this great modern adaptation on our favorite personal pastime!  This one put pain in the pleasure pool, where the S&M stands for Self and Me.  Just drag the week's unkempt growth of fingernails across the shaft thusly, rough but gentle enough to avoid boner-wounds.  And after that infamous Jonas Brothers incident, we don't have to tell you haw badly wounded wieners can bleed.  So stay safe out there!

See you next month!  We know you will find something to occupy your time...