Just in the St Nick of time (geddit?!) is Gerry’s the bigfoot’s Christmas special! We apologize in advance for everything including using a shitty camera. Happy holidays stupid humans!
ps: dolphins suck!
Just in the St Nick of time (geddit?!) is Gerry’s the bigfoot’s Christmas special! We apologize in advance for everything including using a shitty camera. Happy holidays stupid humans!
ps: dolphins suck!
If you love videos of cats losing their nut over cucumbers, then come on down to the world’s first zoo where you can throw fresh veggies at animals for our entertainment! Bring the family and a few bob for the carrots!
Thanks to specialty TV channels there are now a billion travel guide TV shows and while that’s generally a good thing, the problem is that they all gush over the destinations as if every city/country/village in the world (except, of course, the one you live in) is a fascinating place worthy of your few valuable days off work each year. It’s just like travel magazines and travel blogs — one lyrical phrase describing paradise on Earth after another. We call bullshit on that.
So how about this? A TV show/website/magazine/flyer-on-your-windshield called “Don’t Go There” which gives you an accurate assessment (well, still biased but in a different way) of places where you definitely don’t want to waste your money. Along with the obvious places which are probably too dangerous for normal middle-class first-worlders (Iraq, Afghanistan, Whitehorse) the show could also tackle blatant tourist traps where you will lose your savings (Disneyworld, any cruise line) and charming countries that were once exotic but are now overrun by obnoxious college kids maxing out their first credit card (I’m looking at you, Thailand).
Stop watching war stuff on the History Network and calm your angry self down by watching the new Cat TV network. Bring the friends, order pizza and watch them on your big screen. And the best part is no kitty litter to clean up!
Are you bored of putting up a good front on Facebook? We say it’s time to show our true lives online, at Shitbook.com.
Mothers Against Drunk Websites is warning parents of the dangers of young websites to the effects of alcohol and drugs, including ‘marijuana’, which is a gateway drug to shooting shoe polish and sniffing curry powder. Below you can see examples of how websites behave even after one glass of beer, and so on. Viewer discretion is advised.
This image is how a young website sober as the lord intended…
After a couple of beers and some ‘tokes’ of weed…
After a bottle of Jack and a few lines of cocaine or a bit of crack just to take the edge off….
After an evening spent on the curb shooting up smack and blowing anything that goes by …. NEVER GET YOUR TREATS FROM THE JUNKIE IN THE ALLEY!!! CUZ YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE BUT THIS SHIT IS BOTH SCARY AND MAKING YOUR SKIN CRAWL!!!! AND WHY DO I WANT TO SET FIRE TO EVERYTHING. AACCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!
The World Coffee Council has warned people have too many choices for hot caffeinated beverages.
“Our menu boards are at capacity,” said a board member. “We need more funding from governments to build larger menu boards or we will have to cut certain drinks.”
“Innovation is vital to us,” said one barrista stroking his goatee. “Only 20 years ago consumers had two choices: regular and decaf. Now we have new ones being invented all the time by Starbucks headquarters and they all cost more too.”
“We are opening a second location next door just to house the menu,” he added in between passing out flyers for his band’s latest gig. “You’ll go next door, figure out what you want to order, then come in and order. Also, we are implementing a new express line for drinks with 9 adjectives or less. We are currently doing market research on whether hyphenated coffee-adjectives (we call them “cafectives”) will count as one or two in the express lane. So, does a tall wet double extra-hot latte in a grande cup squeeze in to the express line or not? I can’t answer that. Seriously, I can’t — it says so in my employee manual.”
Meanwhile, a global consortium of tea barons have called for limits on fancy coffee drinks’ names with a proposed “cap and trade” system whereby each consumer is allowed to order a drink with up to 5 words for the regular price but will have to give to poorer nations without Starbucks for extra options such as syrups and whip cream.
When Americans get too old to be cold they move to Florida and Hawaii. When Canadians get too old to be cold they are put on sheets of ice and sent to Baffin Island. It just doesn’t seem fair. So we suggest a partnership with a small poverty-stricken nation that happens to be blessed with miles of sun-soaked beaches.
We made some calls but even the most desperate of them hung up when they heard we were from Canada. Except one: Haiti. Canadians get to escape the frozen tundra without any bureaucratic nightmares to ruin their retirements and Haitians are welcome to fill out the under-populated towns of northern Saskatchewan. Bring the whole family, there’s lots of room. Besides, our nation is experiencing a severe shortage of witch doctors.
A group of cheeky orangutans has won the 18th season of Big Brother Zoo edition against their human cousins. The orangutans beat Team Hygiene on all tasks including gossiping, throwing temper tantrums, and having sex in the backyard.
“Ooh-ooh! Orangutan win!, Orangutan win Big Brother! Ahh-ooh!” exclaimed Koko ‘the Monkey’ Chanel. “We beat humans, says TV lady in shiny suit. She say orangutan team won jump-jump contest! And we good-good on finger paints and singing Christmas hymn sing song.”
Executive producer Liz McMuffin made the hasty announcement: “The orangutans won the Big Brother Zoo edition … Please do not touch me … No, I don’t want a banana. No that is my hair. Please, stop. Stop. Stop! FRED, GET THE HOSE!”
Network executives at ABC (the Ape Banana Co-operative) announced the next edition of Big Brother Zoo will begin shooting as soon as they can find enough humans willing to endure the feces throwing that has become the signature move of Team Primate. Word is Lady Gaga is eager to compete. “I’ll just take their crap and make a new outfit out of it,” she told herself in the mirror.
Customer: Hi, I’d like a return ticket to Paris.
Airline sales agent: Certainly, however, I am required to disclose there are extra charges for luggage.
Customer: Yeah, figured there might be.
Sales agent: Did I say luggage? I meant legroom. And meals. And beverages, though water is complimentary with a purchase from our duty free cart, if you pay with hard currency, like the Renminbi.
Customer: Anything else?
Sales agent: I can book you on a December 11 flight leaving at –
Customer: It’s only June. I’d like to leave before that!
Sales agent: I’m sorry, sir, but due to a restructuring many of our aircraft have been switched over to our sister airline, Coma Air.
Customer: Coma wha–?
Sales agent: It is a new and improved version of a no-frills airline. You get a bed –
Customer: A bed? Wow, what’s the catch?
Sales agent: Well, there’s no television screen, but you won’t even notice it because you will be in… in our care.
Sales agent: We induce comas into all our passengers. You ’sleep’ the entire journey. We wake you when we land. Side effects include very dangerous–
Customer: That’s mental, who would do such a thing?
Sales agent: Well, there are other benefits. For example, you could enjoy a two-for-one liposuction special of your double chin on your way to Paris. And if there is a plane crash you won’t even notice. Painless death!
Customer: But what if I have to change airplanes?
Sales agent: We only offer non-stop service now due to a few… um, things being misplaced.
Customer: You misplaced some people?
Sales agent: Our lawyers are trying to determine whether they could be classified as ‘people’. Did I mention the price includes 400 reward points that can be used for souvenirs at the Louvre?
Hey deodorant companies. Excuse me for being a man but I don’t want to smell like honeysuckle, rosehip, patchoulie or Penelope Cruz.
That’s why we’re taking our armpits hostage and not letting you near them until our demands our met. Here’s what we want:
1. ChocoChipFudge Deodorant
2. Coconut Curry Body Wash
3. Poutine Shampoo & Beer Conditioner
4. BBQ Rib Anti-Perspirant
5. Cheeseburger Toothpaste
6. Mars Bars of Soap
And no MSG, or you’ll smell our wrath!
Smokers. Love them or simply be annoyed by them, they’ll probably be around forever whether we like it or not. Kinda like Republicans. But what to do with them? Name and shame them? Parade them through streets before putting them on show trials? Or douse them with gasoline and watch them ignite the next time they try to light up? (Kids, don’t try that at home… make sure you’re outside.)
Better yet, why not take after the tobacco companies and just make money off them?
Now that smoking bans are spreading across the globe we came up with just the idea: Turn abandoned old photo booths into smoking booths. The concept is simple and yet clever. We take photo booths that people do not use anymore and let smokers puff away inside them while charging them money for the privilege. Granted this idea has probably been done in cool places like Japan — where they ingeniously got around smoking regulations by creating a smoking lounge — but across the Pacific these ideas have yet to arrive.
So, if the 100 Mile Diet is supposedly better for your health and the environment, doesn’t it stand to reason that the One-Mile Diet is 100 times better than that? Here’s one way to bring your carbon footprint down to nothing, and probably meet some desperate housewives in the process. Three cheers for the environment!
Please follow the rules:
1. Take only what you think you deserve.
2. Napkins do not grow on trees. Try not to eat like a pig.
3. Use the neighbour’s toilet only in an emergency.
4. Clean up after yourself. (use the hose, dammit!)
5. Do not snoop (unless you have even the slightest reason to suspect they are terrorist (lawn not mowed, kids speak a second language, they don’t have cable) in which case bring a camera and check underwear drawer.
6. Do not be cheap and expect free food all the time. Keep up your end of the bargain and cook for once. It’s not hard, honestly, I mean an omelette takes a minute and you can add mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes… Shit! Do you really need an egg lesson?!?!? I MEAN WHAT DID YOU GROW UP ON? FUCKING CEREAL?! FUCK IT, STAY AWAY FROM MY HOUSE!!!
It’s not fair America gets all the cool superheroes while China just gets PandaMan (half Panda, half kung fu master who threatens to eat entire forests of bamboo unless all criminals surrender) and Russia is stuck with Vladimir Putin (he fights evil democracy).
And pity poor Japan. It’s been seven months since the Fukushima nuclear disaster. And still no sign of a superhero. What’s taking him/it so long? Probably still drinkin’ at the Karaoke bar.
On today’s podcast our guest from Finland brought along an irritating Finnish accent and a pitch for a new superhero: SaunaMan. If he were anything like Batman, then presumably his sidekick would be BathBoy.
Granted we might have been under the influence when we brainstormed this nugget of an idea, but now we have proof that trading your blood for a pint is officially a brilliant idea: A US city is encouraging the public to donate blood in exchange for beer. We are not taking full credit for it (yet), but we did come up with it in 2008 (yes, we are ho.d) , but if anything it proves the old saying: there is no such thing as a bad idea. Cheers to us then!
You probably think that blood is icky and useless. But did you know that if you replaced your blood with something much more exciting (like Root Beer) you would probably die within 12 years? Shocking but true!
But even though you have more than enough blood there are people in hospitals too stupid to make enough for themselves. That’s why you always hear people asking you to give blood.
But who wants to go all the way to the Blood Donor clinic to pick up hepatitis from a dirty needle! That’s why we’ve come up with a cunning new plan: pay people for their blood when they are the happiest — at the neighbourhood pub!
Every spring during earnings season, the Swiss people celebrate the harvesting of banks’ profits. Across the land, bankers on balconies throw candy to children below. Street parties are held in every town and parades make their way from holy ATMs to the insides of sacred vaults. Later, couples snuggle under balance sheets. At midnight mass, the banking regulator conducts the longest prayer in the world. And finally, a communist is sacrificed to appease the Gods.
The world should take a page out of the Swiss playbook and embrace banking, but for a different purpose. If Hollywood films are right (and let’s face it they were right about killer sharks and Scientologists) then this galaxy’s leading alien empires will someday gear up for a major battle. And when that happens, we Earthlingians need a strategy.
That’s why we came up with the safest, most profitable war plan of all: sit it out. How? Easy, be their banker. If we play our cards right Earth could be this galaxy’s version of the Swiss during World War II, who turned a blind eye to war crimes in exchange for being allowed to play with all the Nazi gold.
Every empire needs help stashing the loot they ransack during their campaigns and what better place to do it than on a planet that has not seen a world war for at least 65 years. It’s easy — we promise them a lavish 0.0002% return on their investment (and a free Tibet with every new account) and they promise not to feed us to their young.
Our Father, who art in electronics shop
hallowed be thy domain name
Thy kingdom come in and browse.
Thy will be done, for a price*
On earth as it is in cyberspace.
Give us this day our daily app.
And forgive us our porn trespasses,
As we forgive those who Facebook tag us.
And lead us not into temptation (see above),
But deliver us from hefty fees
For thine is the special offer,
and the power of the battery that lasts oh, so long,
and the glory (did we mention the porn?)
for ever and ever. Until the next generation comes out
(*please allow 4-6 weeks for service)
Evolution has a funny way of working: man came from apes, but while apes are still smart enough to subsist on healthy bananas, men stuff their faces with wings and nachos. They don’t even like nachos (let’s face facts: anything with green onions on it is technically a salad), but it’s a great excuse to ogle waitresses in their natural habitat.
An ape would never demean himself like that. If he needs sex he’ll grab the first ass sticking up in the air and it’s over. If evolution continues like this men will soon be begging for sex (oh, damn. Evolution has already won).
At least there’s one place knuckle-draggers can go to feel like a man: Hooters. Unfortunately, the thrill of a side of supersized mammaries with your un-chicken-like buffalo wings wears off after about 3 minutes (about the time heart burn sets in). And as soon as your top-heavy server struggles to speak beyond one-syllable chirps you realize that bimbos should be left to roam free in libraries where they will slowly develop self-esteem for future generations. So where do you go when you want to meet a woman who has read something more challenging than her horoscope?
My friend, we have the answer. A new establishment called Cougars. Come on in, the first order of emasculation-infused herbal tea is on us.
Squeegee kids are clearly not professional. Everything about them is amateur: the dreadlocks, the nose rings, the lack of a decent pension plan. They could use some professional guidance, say in the form of a pimp or a corporation that could exploit them in exchange for minimum wage and a vest emblazoned with advertising. Just think of how much brighter their outlook would be in life if they could be a one-stop shop for all drivers’ needs!
We asked our gullible intern David (name will be changed later to protect the ignorant) and he immediately rewrote his resume in crayon in hopes of snagging a new gig. He wrote on a paper napkin: “If I was a squeegee kid, I’d be the best. I’d have the cleanerest uniform. I be have the most awesomest squeegee. I’d be polite and profeshinal, ya’sir. I’d have one of those portable payment gizmos so you can buy concert tickets or pay bills and I’d sell beverages, tissues, chips, spray-on tan lotion — everyone would love me!”
The Dinosaur Defence League is crying foul over another airing of a dinosaur documentary that the group claims only showed the extinct creatures in a negative light.
“Last night’s episode of Dinosaurs Behaving Normally’ was racist and discriminatory. Why is it every time I turn on the TV to watch a dinosaur documentary the graceful triceratops is always shown jabbing its horns at another dinosaur? It’s typical media sensationalism!” said Terry Dacktyl, president of the Dinosaur Defence League.
“TV never shows the positive side of dinosaurs, like how they loved, laughed, cried together, and farted in each other’s faces.”
The TV network responded: “The documentary in question was screened prior to airing by our anti-discrimination committee, which concluded it was a fair and accurate assessment of dinosaur culture, especially given that the program included examples of dinosaurs being active in their communities.”
The DDL’s Terry Dacktyl said he fears people will always unfairly view dinosaurs as violent: “Sharks have killed more people than dinosaurs ever have. That’s a fact!”
Do ferocious beasts make good pets? It’s human nature to force another species to submit to our will purely for our enjoyment (how else do we explain internet clips of cats crapping in toilets?). But most wild animals would, if asked using the closest language to the animal kingdom we have which is Ewok bibble-babble, be shocked that you’d yank them out of the wild.
Actually, shocked isn’t strong enough a word: think Cujo on crack. Now give him a reason to go after your nuts. There. Got that mental image? Good, now you have a sense of how angry these animals must feel when they get trapped and sold for our amusement. No wonder then that some fight back against their two-legged masters, as was the case recently in Ontario when a man’s pet tiger mauled him to death. (Editor’s note: See, Canada’s not so boring.)
So why do it? Is it simply because we love the feeling of caressing a bit of soft fur? (Editor’s note: Steady…)Probably not because many people own snakes, lizards and shellfish as pets and evolution has clearly not caught up with them yet so the cuteness factor is only part of the reason.
If you have a pet tiger, elephant or Inuit are you just showing off? Or maybe some people get off doing dangerous things. That’s quite possible but then how many of those same people go parachuting, sumo wrestling or engage in bar fights with husky transvestites named Corky? We bet most don’t. In fact, most wild animals are kept in secure pens anyway, so it’s not like you could take a lion to your cafe, or throw a stick in a park and tell him to fetch it — and we know why, because he’d come back belching from devouring your neighbour’s purebred shitzu.
The short answer is these wild animals are trouble: they can’t be toilet trained, they’ll cut you to pieces if you feed them anything less than osso bucco and really, who’d want to face the prospect of being mauled when it comes time to take out an agitated beast’s litterbox?
Don’t let stupid Hollywood disaster films be the only ones cashing in on the hysteria about the world ending. Here’s an idea: Noah’s Ark with seating for 10,000 for $1,000 per head? Or an underground city that can support 100,000 for only $100 per person. Beautiful people will get preferential treatment, of course. (Editor’s note: Hey wait, where does that leave us?)
That’s why zoos are going extinct.
Parents don’t bring their kids to zoos anymore because they worry about little things like animal welfare and masturbating primates.
And kids don’t care about animals unless they can stomp on their heads in a video game. It’s an unproven fact that cat neglect rose 3% right after Halo came out.
So here’s the plan to bring back zoos.
First, kids today need some pizzazz. A lightshow by the lion cage and an all-zebra Abba tribute band are a good start. Free spitting and farting lessons at the giraffe cages at 2 and 4 p.m.
For the teens and cynical young adults, we will create an urban zoo where clever hipsters can gaze in an ironic manner upon the animals on each others’ t-shirts.
Finally, for everyone over the age of 30, how about a gated community for animals where the creatures can live amongst us in tiny bachelor flats – like a modern day Noah’s Ark, two per room of every kind. Ideally with soundproof and stenchproof walls.
School doesn’t teach real life skills, so how do you know if the person in the next cubicle is capable of making microwave popcorn without burning down the kitchen?
You don’t, obviously. In fact, if you’re about to hire new staff make sure they can perform this vital office function.
But we digress: the point of this pointless podcast is that people should be forced to prove that anyone old enough to be entrusted with a set of keys can perform simple day-to-day tasks before they are allowed out in public.
While those dynamic go-getters at the motor vehicle branch are quizzing people eager to get their driver’s license, why not spend an extra 20 minutes and make the public perform some other stupid human tricks?
THE BRILLIANT OR STUPID “LICENSE TO ENGAGE OTHER HUMANS” TEST INCLUDES THESE VITAL SKILLS:
What’s the deal with the Olympics? Do we really need dozens of events to figure out which nation rules? Before the invention of television warring tribes would settle their differences with a one-day game of fiery dodgeball. That was it. After they cleared the grounds and buried the dead, they went on with their daily lives of hunting, gathering and witchhunting. You never saw a warrior chief challenged to a ping-pong match.
But now companies are so eager to cash in on sport that they invent new ones all the time. How else do you explain curling, water polo, badminton and Celebrity Apprentice?
The other problem is the weather. If you’re an elite athlete you train for four years just so you can suffer heat exhaustion in some smoggy hotspot or freeze your ass off on some icefield somewhere. Why not combine the summer and winter Olympics — call it the Wimmer Olympics — and hold it in during the mild days of spring? That way all the sports can be combined into fewer, but yet more exciting events. Plus, we would only have to suffer through the emasculating exercise of watching gorgeous buff athletes highlight the fact that we are useless slobs to our wives/girlfriends only once every four years.
Best of all, it’d give us a break from sport and give us time to read a book for once. Oh, who are we kidding — you’d just use that free time to surf for ever more deviant porn. Hmmm… Deviant Porn Surfing, now there’s a Wimmer Olympic event we’ve got a shot in. Bring it on, Estonia!
Thanks to the National Rifle Association’s commitment to upholding the right of every American child to own a water gun, the US military has noticed a dramatic improvement in kids’ target shooting practice. The military now plans to recruit kids who are a good shot. Said one general: “Before they used to whine like little babies, but now they’re acting exactly the way you’d expect violent six-year-olds to behave.”
A man who once complained of too many toppings on pizzas has turned his attention to the interland. Jeremy Fullstop says today’s websites have too many hyperlinks to other websites andweb pages that it is now physically impossible to navigate around a page without inadvertently clicking on a link and having the browser sent elsewhere.
“They’re so desperate to climb up Google’s rankings that they’ll link to anything, anywhere,” he said, while exercising his fingers. “Look, if I want to go back to the top of this page, where do I click? How? See, if I go here — oh, there we go again. Great, now I’ve gone to another miracle cure diet site!”
Mystic healer Shu Away-Foo agreed: “The Chinese have ancient saying about this. There may be one loaf of bread, but 24 slices in that loaf. How can you pick the right slice? You can’t. It’s impossible.”
Many prominent figures throughout history were able to wax poetically whilst drunk. John F Kennedy famously uttered the phrase “Ich ben ein Berliner”, which everyone assumed he was trying to say “I am a Berliner” in German. But the truth is he was really quite tanked up and was trying to grab the last triangle sandwich when he slurred: “Itshh mine, the baloney!”
Here are some more examples:
Napolean Bonaparte: “A Constitution should be short and obscure.” A Constitution was his favourite drink, which he concealed with one hand inside his jacket.
Winston Churchill: “Without a measureless and perpetual uncertainty, the drama of human life would be destroyed.” This famous quote is the world’s first drunk riddle. Nobody has ever figured it out.
Walt Whitman: “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.” Clearly he was off his arse and said this before challenging a patron in a bar to an arm wrestle.
Oscar Wilde: “At every single moment of one’s life, one is going to be no less than what one has been.” Sure, it sounds elegant, but did you know he got this from a phone psychic who he dialed up for advice and witticisms whenever he was hammered?
Muhammed Ali: “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” If ever there was a more poetic description of the effects of alcoholism we have yet to hear it.
Libyan leader Colonel Gaddafi: “We are capable of destroying America and breaking its nose.” Too easy. Gaddafi hasn’t been sober since he started getting drunk on power in 1969.
Ah, such sweet, wonderful drunk talk. Too bad you’re not going to get any of it here, because we lack gravitas, talent and wit. But at least we get an A for effort. With that in mind, we forced our two interns to perform a podcast while BEING SOBER. Shocking, but true. It sucks.
A man has built a roller-coaster in his backyard and hopes neighbourhood children will ride on him.
“It’s perfectly safe. The kids have to be at least this high before they can strap themselves on to me,” says Bert Semicolon of Shropshire, England, Great Britain, UK.
Safety experts have inspected Mr Semicolon and found no obvious cracks or fissures. However, as a class 8 vehicle Mr Semicolon will have to undergo regular oil changes (Editor’s note: That’s enough of this story)
Swiss Fromage, a Swiss bank that refuses to identify its wealthy clients (mainly criminal gangs and corrupt dictators), has opened a branch on the moon, where it says it does not have to adhere to new international treaties.
“Well, where else are criminals supposed to hide their money?” sniffed Gilles Camembert, the bank’s managing director. “Many countries are cracking down on banking secrecy and offshore accounts so we have to stay one step ahead of them. Our new branch has the most secure vault on the moon and a drive-thru internet cafe.”
Dictators, despots, criminals and celebrated politicians have long embraced Switzerland’s laws that shield their identity and let them hoard their cash with no questions asked. But many observers predict the demise of Swiss banking secrecy thanks to new treaties such as the one between the US Internal Revenue Service and UBS, which demands the Swiss bank reveal who stashes money in its accounts.
Swiss Fromage believes it has found a loophole. “The moon has no treaties with earth,” Mr Camembert said. “Legally, we can do what we like. We think many of our clients who do not like laws will appreciate this.”
Mr Camembert would neither confirm nor deny rumours that the bank will offer up many other illegal activities such as cock-fighting, death races and gay marriage, but did admit that the company had trademarked the term “SwitzerMoon” for future development that will include a gold-plated theme park once space tourism becomes mainstream.
Fat people will do anything to lose weight. As long as it does not involve eating less food, that is. Don’t believe us? Check out the parasitic worm diet which has become the latest weight-loss trend in Hong Kong. Kirstie Alley knows all about it — she has built her career on getting fat and losing the weight, then flogging off her experiences on TV shows (rumour has it she her latest pitch is called “My Favorite Tapeworm”).
So we wondered: With millions of fad diets in the world, why are obese people still getting obesier? Actually, there’s a better question: With millions of people desperate to lose weight, why haven’t we figured out a way to make money off them? By the way, you can buy your own slimming tapeworms for $2,000 at WormTherapy.com (no really, just our luck. We waste precious brain cells making shit like this up only for us to learn someone is really doing it. Satire just can’t keep up!)
Japan’s indoor beach has been hit by a tsunami, though there were no injuries as beach staff responded quickly by pulling the plug and draining the pool.
The beach, built inside a dome that offers sun, sand and sharks 365 days a year, is where beach bums get the comfort of a climate-controlled experience complete with volcanos and artificial sea full of flora, fauna and funa.
The “beach” (or ‘old polluted industrial complex’ as it is known on local maps) also has a retractable sun roof on the dome so weather permitting, outdoor elements such as dive-bombing seagulls can enter and harass picnicgoers.
Television network NBC has announced that a “Friends” spin-off show about the cast’s “imaginary friends” has been cancelled after the pilot episode screened poorly.
“As you might expect imaginary friends are hard to film because they are invisible. In the end, the entire pilot episode was basically the cafe or the apartment, some furniture and a fern and nothing happened. It wasn’t very entertaining,” said one insider.
The Actor’s Guild applauded the cancellation as they were planning to strike if imaginary actors threatened the jobs of union members. “Our industry already suffers from recycled jokes, fake ‘reality’ dramas and unrealistic plot twists … imaginary characters are simply crossing the line,” said a union boss.
By General Daniel Velasquez, editor-in-chief
There won’t be much cheer for dictators this holiday season. 2009 has not been a good year for us, what with all the peace deals and UN busybodies snooping about. And don’t get me started on the recent war crimes trial of comrade Radovan Karadzik. For shame! The thought that such a powerful man(iac) could be treated with such disrespect makes me want to invade something.
Sadly, I can’t do that however, because I am still a dictator-without-a-country. This is now my second year in exile after those bastards in the military overthrew me. Luckily I escaped on my private jet before they could string me up, but I have no regrets. I have to admit I still get teary-eyed thinking back to that fateful morning when I sat on my veranda, sipping my morning coffee while watching the troops storm the gates, take out my personal body guards, and commandeer my Rolls-Royce and PlayStation. It just shows I trained them well. They overthrew the capital with such precision and professionalism that I can hold my head up high and say ‘Yes, those boys who are now my enemies did their jobs well.’ Oh well, can’t complain. I have my stash of riches and mistresses and will one day return to power. The plot continues, as we like to joke!
I’m not a religious man but Christmas is always a happy time for me. How can it not be when as dictator all my underlings were under strict orders to give me presents and praise. One year, a minister in my government gave me his wife. Seriously! Oh, how we laughed. Maybe I shouldn’t have had him shot. He was my brother after all. But hey, one of the hallmarks of being a ruler is our unpredictability.
But 2009 wasn’t all bad. I had some Hollywood producers contact me for the rights to my life story. Seems that the Che Guevara gravy train has run dry and they’re looking for the next charismatic revolutionary to put on a t-shirt. They weren’t phased at all when I told them that I used to adopt African babies so that my real kids would learn some gratitude and quit crying about the beatings. Said it would make a great celluloid moment a la “Mommie Dearest.”
US shuts down Radio-Free North Korea!
Radio Free North Korea has been shut down by imperialist American dogs, says a source inside the studio. “Some reports say we were shut down because of power cuts.,” he said. “Wrong! That is American propaganda!!! Is very simple, our host ate the microphone. It is not his fault. In his delirious state he thought it was ice cream cone. It will take 6 weeks before we can get a new one … I know, I know. Japan is so close, couldn’t be just send over a squad of special forces and steal one from a store? If I had a penny for every time I heard that … It’s not so simple. We need a boat for starters.”
What’s inside your European Carry-all?
Profile: Iranian general Hassim Asgharivan never goes far without his sunscreen and lotion.
“I use Pantene Lavish Looks to keep the dry desert air from clogging my pours. When I hit the beach, I always put on Junior Sun Block lotion because I love to lay back and enjoy the weather, the barbecues, the feeling of sand between my toes and watching my beautiful young daughter frolic in the ocean … I killed her hamster so I kind of owe her a ‘fun’ day.”
Congrats to Bobby M. for hitting the number one spot in 2009’s Best Dictator category, proving once again that just because you lose an election and are forced to share power with your enemies in a ‘national unity’ government is no reason to stop trying to be the best you can be! We asked what was in store for 2010 and he was coy as usual, saying only that the money will continue to flow for whoever supports him (nudge nudge, wink wink). Way to go, Bobby!
And how about my old bowling partner Omar Al-Bashir for moving up to number 2 spot. ‘The Bash’ as we like to call him (don’t EVER call him ‘Omo’ or he will give you a one-way ticket to Darfur) is the glorious leader of Sudan, who has smartly used an arrest warrant from the International Criminal Court to spin his way up the rankings. The ICC. Bah! Should be called the IC-not!
HUGE SALE! Limited time only get previously enjoyed headless-Lenin statues. Just plop your own head on top and you’ve got an instant statue in your honour! Great for plazas, Buy from me, Crazy Ivan – I won’t be undersold!!!
M4W, handsome death squad leader seeks female for good times, invasions of beaches, must like bunkers. Serious enquiries only please. Sorry, can’t meet in public.
For sale, 12 tanks. Good condition, need tracts, paint job (No manual but big red button is self-explanatory). Any reasonable offer considered as these tanks have terrible karma.
123passports. Buy 10 and get a free working visa for Albania! (will also work in Alabama)
Mercenaries Wanted: Just make your way to Afghanistan and join the first American or Taliban training camp you find. Guaranteed employment until death.
SPECIAL OFFER FOR MEMBERS ONLY:
Grab this limited edition 24′ x 10′ mural for your war room now! Call for members only price.
Back in the days of cavemen — sorry, cave people — sorry, nomadic early humanoids — people would live anywhere they could find food. This is what led the morons to migrate north and south away from the warm lands of Africa. (Let’s face it, our ancestors weren’t too bright, they would’ve walked into a poisonous swamp if there was food down there).
But we know better now, don’t we? Nobody wants to live in the cold climates. We all want to live in the warm tropical countries, just like the lands we first evolved out of.
So, here’s the plan: All humans must live between the Tropic of Cancer and the Tropic of Capricorn. Nobody lives in the cold bits of the planet. Not even to make crop circles!
The obvious benefit of this is that humans would be a lot warmer. And a warm human is a happy human. Think of all the great wars in our history. All started by cold people.
Most importantly, this will solve global warming because with everyone living on the warm strip surrounding the equator, the top third and bottom third of the planet will be untouched by humans, and these lands and oceans will act as the equalizer for the planet’s biosphere. No matter how much we wreck our strip of warm land, the cold bits will remain untouched and equal out the climate.
Plus, it’s a known fact that people in warm climates don’t want to work as much (see: Jamaica, Greece, and anywhere where Cabana boys are unionised) and lazy humans have far less harmful effects on the environment. Case in point: Paris Hilton emits far less emissions when she is resting on a tropical beach.
We’ll take the Nobel prize now. And no ceremonies in Sweden, thank you very much! We’ll be doin’ the drunk limbo in Brazil!
After all, we still have tail-bones but we don’t remove them. What if we’re still evolving and for some reason in the future we will need our appendix? Should we keep them in a frozen vault just in case?
Maybe that’s a stretch, but at least you could keep just one healthy appendix so that it could be cloned in the future. Where’s the harm in that? Haven’t you ever thrown out a pair of jeans or shoes and then realized oh, wait I could’ve used them now. Like Joni Mitchell sang in the ode to her kidney “you don’t know what you got til it’s gone”.
The point is we don’t know for certain what its function is or what it might be, but we shouldn’t rule out the chance that Mother Nature has a plan for it in the future. That’s why it’s vital that you listen to this podcast right now… before you end up bedridden in the hospital with no wi-fi.
(Editor’s note: You’ve got to be kidney me. Can you ex-spleen this idea? I can’t believe you’ve got the gall to submit this, I’d bladder proofread my urethra. Besides, these ideas are immune to laughter because your jokes rectum. I showed them to my assistant and they went right ovaries head. To top it all off this podcast is way to lung, who has the thymus to listen to it? I never thought I’d liver to read such trachea. You’re really testes my nerves. Now just fuck off and diaphragm.)
A Nigerian Prince has been bilked out of hundreds of millions of dollars by former Wall Street bankers. The bankers, all of whom were fired for contributing to the credit crisis and bail-out of banks, used to work in complex derivative instruments.
(Editor’s note: cut to the chase, nobody understands this stuff anyway).
The bankers asked the prince for help in transferring hundreds of millions of dollars to a secret Swiss bank account. But rather than reimburse the prince for his troubles, the bankers emptied the prince’s account. The Nigerian Prince (who is not the black man pictured but nonetheless just as sad) had planned to donate the proceeds to a cancer hospital. He has now vowed never to help anyone again.
“This scam has been going on for years and years,” police said. “The bankers present themselves as savvy market participants but then go out and invest in extremely risky financial products while telling their victims their money is safe.”
(Editor’s note: I’m a bit uneasy doing a story on a black person. We’re both white. Is it appropriate for us to write about this?)
(Webmaster’s note: Hey, you can’t call us “black” anymore… it’s “pigmentally-enhanced.” Fucking racists!)
(Editor’s note: See, what I mean? Pigmentally-enhanced? I mean, is he joking or being serious? Can I even reprimand him for saying that?! )
(Reporter’s note: How about if I add this stuff below to make it more palatable?)
For more commentary and news on black people by a nice chap who isn’t afraid to be both entertaining and informative click here. Or here. But definitely not here. See, what I mean? I told you not to click there. Now, you’re just as annoyed as I am. They make a movie about a lady who cooks recipes written by another lady and that’s it. There’s no huge conflict, no big emotional challenge — she basically gets a little sad sometimes and that’s supposed to be good enough for a F$%&*@ movie these days?! Honestly! Why can’t they make a movie based on this guy’s blog? At least he has something to say! Arrrrgh!
This month BS.com follows the journey of “Sunshine” (aka Tiffany) Palmer, a
21-year-old English major on her six-month trip to Guatemala, courtesy of daddy’s
credit card, where she is living out her dream of casting aside western commercialism
to “empower the earnest indigenous people”.
By Sunshine Palmer
Ohmygod, I am having the totally coolest trip. I’ve been staying at this cute coastal village that is totally poor and completely free of commercial products. No TV, no phone, no Coke machines, no hairdryers. Nature, family, grass huts – just like I pictured it. Awesome.
The other week I had this fantastic idea of assisting my host family by teaching them unique methods to eat wholesome, organic foods.
I did all the prep work myself. All they had to do was soak the beans in a water/salt solution for four hours, drain, cook on an open pit fire for two hours, let cool slightly, then mix in a pot loaded with other organically grown and peeled vegetation (which as everyone knows back home, all one needs to sustain themselves) for another two-and-three-quarters hours, simmer, then serve.
But no, they gave their starving daughter beef! How dare they!
I spent four days digging for nutritious, fibrous roots from under the rain forest canopy, and harvesting lima beans and this is how they show their appreciation — by passing me a burger!
Needless to say, I bolted from that cesspool. I left that family and found a quaint village (A food agency worker called it a “hamlet”, I guess after Shakespeare! Cute, huh?) and it was located closer to the mountain range, where the rain pours harder
(acid rain, for sure) and totally ruins my braids and my Gap jeans, which I only bought from that multinational corporation because they totally fit my figure better.
Anyway, I was told that it was the local custom to give a new host family a gift, so I presented them with an honourary chicken because they apparently held it in high regard.
Well, they ate it!
Their five-year-old son has had his insides polluted forever by toxins and hormones injected in that foul bird. I couldn’t stop crying. They tried to cheer me up (they thought I was ill) but I was in no mood. I just slept on my bamboo mat for days while they pretended to ignore me by working from dawn to dusk.
A week later, I lectured them on multinational corporations and the fascist WTO. The host family was very thankful. In fact, they encouraged me to give more lectures to families who they said needed me more. I needed no further encouragement and so decided to leave the following morning. My host family said my work was too important (at least that is what I think they said since I don’t speak Guatemalish), and so I took their advice and left that evening by donkey.
Thanks to me, they were very, very happy when I left.
The superhero known as Prospector (a grizzled 1800s gold digger from the Klondike days who carries a pick axe and rides a flying donkey) says he is upset that Hollywood has yet to offer him a movie deal.
“It’s discrimination just cuz I ain’t sexy, dagnabbit!” he spat. “Spider Man is a freak! He shoots gooey stuff out of his wrists, fergawdsakes! And don’t get me started on them Fantastic Four? One guy creates fire. Another stretches himself. Gimme a break — all they got is parlour tricks!”
If you can’t get us a meeting with Ricky Gervais don’t bother reading this idea.
Here’s the pitch for a sequel to “The Invention of Lying.” In a world where no one ever dies, suddenly one human is found dead. At first this is met with curiosity, but this quickly changes to panic when people start dropping like flies. One noble scientist — Ricky G. — leads the charge to save humanity and finally discovers the cure for death. But it’s too late… by the time his search is over he is the last remaining living person on Earth.
Well, him and Rod Serling.
Salam Fayyad, the prime minister of the Palestinian Authority, has never held a gun nor been arrested, which is quite an accomplishment for someone who lives in a ‘hood that last saw peace in 1928 1853 1603 the middle ages 67 A.D 2500 B.C. just a few minutes before Cain found a rock big enough to crush his brother’s skull.
Mr Fayyad’s non-violent approach is an inspiration — heck, even Gandhi wouldn’t have tried his nutty stunt if he had been staring down Mossad rather than a bunch of drooling Brits suffering heat exhaustion.
Fayyad now says that if a Palestinian state does not emerge from negotiations with Israel, the PA will unilaterally declare a state. He may not know how to fire a gun, but he knows how to make some noise! Put aside all the yap-yap and whine-whine (by the way, the yap-yap and whine-whine party starts at 8 sharp) about the Arab-Israeli conflict, and one thing strikes us as odd: the land the Palestinians control is split in two and each bit is so small that the Palestinians air force only uses pogo sticks to hop around. Which gave us an idea. Greek sex! No, wait, that’s a different rant.
Speaking of Greece, the Mediterranean country has much to be proud of. It has given the world the Olympics, souvlaki and, ummm, well, yeah. It had a good run. But its economic crisis is dragging down Europe, and if that happens hilarious cheesy Europop songs will take on a darker tone (think Cheeky Girls as goths). Besides, if the Germans have to bail them out they will have yet another darker-skinned minority to push around, and nobody wants to see that.
Greece had its chance. Palestine never did. So how about a straight swap: Greeks for Palestinians? The Greeks should move to Palestine, the Palestinians to Greece. The Palestinians could then have a shot at running a small country. And with all the fighting and riots in Greece at the moment, they will feel right at home in the warzone that is the mideast. We can just about hear the Israelis lock their front doors and collectively mutter: ‘There goes the neighbourhood.”
(Editor’s note: This story needs an image of a Greek man breaking plates on an Israeli tank. Can we re-run the photo from the Greek Week advertising flyer?)
P.S. HOW TO DECLARE YOUR OWN COUNTRY: 1.) Throw rocks at your oppressors. 2.) Declare allegiance with Hugo Chavez. 3.) Whine at the UN until they put you in the Time Out chamber. 4.) Fill out the form below and send it to Jimmy Carter.
The Anti-Everything Brigade’s inaugural meeting was halted just after it began as members protested each other.
“The meeting was held in Portland and that’s a non-starter right there because a council member dared to travel to Israel,” said one protester. “Plus, the agenda was written on only 50 per cent recycled paper, which is worse than genocide!”
One member started a fire after the buffet table contained Krispy Kreme doughnuts. His motion calling for a ban on all multinational corporatations was passed, then defeated, then declared null and void, but later approved in principle with 500 conditions and caveats.
An afternoon that was originally planned to organize protests against a long litany of corporate criminals came to an end when the AEB recognized that the only logical conclusion to endless protests was to shut themselves down.
Most protesters/members admitted they got tired of voting against everything. “After 6 hours of putting our arms up and shouting down speakers we’d had enough. But in the end we successfully voted to ban ourselves which is quite the accomplishment,” said one happy member.
A self-congratulatory press release from the AEB claimed that “ours is the first progressive organization in history which avoided the bourgeois trap of ever-increasing bureaucratic growth by successfully shutting ourselves down through the power of grassroots direct action.”