This might be the best song in the history of music.
Winter News
Local Woman Sets All-Time Record For "Bitching About How Goddamn Cold it is Outside."
Edith Wharton Gladstone, 73, of Lansdowne, Pennsylvania, recently set a little known world record by complaining to her husband, Ernest Philip Gladstone, 79, also of Lansdowne, eighty-three times in one twenty-four hour period about "how goddamn cold it is outside."
Her husband, who is legally deaf, was quoted as saying, "She did what? Thank God I'm deaf."
The previous record was held by Janet Covington of Red Hook, NY, who complained seventy-four times in a twenty-four hour period.
Mrs. and Mrs. Gladstone received an all-expenses-paid trip to the U.S. Virgin Islands. Upon their arrival, Mrs. Gladstone immediately set a record for bitching about "how goddamn hot it is outside."
Countdown to the Apocolypse - Election '08
(The crowd didn't know what to make of Edwards' awkward happiness and bizarre smile upon his drop-out announcement.)
John Edwards to Redouble His Efforts in His Campaign to Become Vice President
"Obviously, that's the office that I've been gunning for all this time, anyway," said an awkwardly enthusiastic Edwards at his drop-out/non-drop-out concession speech Wednesday.
"I look forward to continuing the blatant pandering that I've been doing - Hillary, I love your pant suits and experience - Barack, you're the real candidate for change," Edwards continued.
"If you'll excuse me, I have a lot of ass-kissing to do."
(President George W. Bush smirks while discussing the tattered remains of the country he has horribly mismanaged for the past 8 years)
Bush Gives Final State of the Union Address
Post-speech echoes heard throughout Capitol Building as the ghosts of our forefathers breathe long-awaited sigh of relief.
(Miss Clinton relishes her new role in her mother's campaign)
Chelsea Clinton to Take On New Role in Mother's Presidential Campaign
The youngest Clinton is now set to perch high on the eaves of all buildings in which her mother is giving speeches in order to ward off evil spirits.*
* This joke was sponsored by the Gargoyle Enthusiasts of America.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
The Letter 'V' Sues the Letter 'U' and The Original Inventors of the English Alphabet
THE LETTER 'V' V. THE LETTER 'U' AND THE ORIGINAL INVENTORS OF THE ENGLISH ALPHABET
OPENING TRANSCRIPTS, 12-19-07
CASE NO. ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ - 1
STATE OF NEW YORK, COUNTY OF NEW YORK
IN THE CIRCUIT COURT OF NEW YORK, NEW YORK
NEIGHBORHOOD DEPARTMENT - SESAME STREET MUNICIPAL DIVISION
THE LETTER 'V', Plaintiff,
-V- No. ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVQXYZ - 1
THE LETTER 'U' AND THE ORIGINAL INVENTORS OF THE ENGLISH ALPHABET, Defendant.
EXCERPT OF REPORT OF PROCEEDINGS of the trial before the Honorable SHERLOCK HEMLOCK, Judge of said Court, on the 19th day of December 2007.
APPEARANCES:
RANDOM NEIGHBORHOOD LADY, MS. LINDA, on behalf of the Plaintiff;
1000 YEAR OLD ANGLO-SAXON WORDSMITHS, ARCWELLEN ERIKSSON & GRINDAN THE RED, on behalf of the Defendant.
Prairie Dawn - C.S.R. 12-345
Official Court Reporter
INDEX
December 19, 2007
Opening Statement by MS. MARIA 111
Opening Statement by MR. GRINDAN THE RED 113
OPENING STATEMENT
BY MS. MARIA
Thank you, Judge. Good afternoon.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this case is really very simple. My client - and good friend - the letter 'V' believes that the letter 'U' stole something from him. And as we all know, it's wrong to steal from others.
Let's say that I have a delicious red apple. I put it in my lunchbox and place it on the shelf. While I am taking my nap, someone takes my apple and eats it without asking me. Well, that's just wrong. It's basic manners. We have a song about that.
(singing) Oh, there are chickens in the trees,
There are chickens in the trees!
Won't you listen to me, please?
There are...ahem...
I apologize - that's not the right song. Uh, well, anyway, everyone knows that it's wrong to steal.
During my 35 years working on Sesame Street, I have become familiar with the alphabet. Very familiar, indeed.. I would consider myself somewhat of an expert. For instance, I know that the letter 'E' falls between 'D' and 'F' and understand the complexities and difficulties of what we on "The Street" know as the "L-M-N-O-P" corollary. I can recognize all the different letters by both their shapes and their sounds. But one letter has always confounded me.
This would be the letter 'W.'
Why on earth would it be called "Double-U" when it obviously looks like two 'Vs' placed side by side? The letter 'U' obviously exerted its considerable influence on the original creators of the English - or at the time Anglo-Saxon - alphabet and stole something that should have rightfully been the letter 'V's' - another letter named after him. The letter 'W' should not be pronounced "Double-You" - it should rightfully be called "Double-Vee!"
We demand that this grave injustice be rectified and both the letter 'U' and the original creators of the English alphabet be punished. Thank you. This opening statement has been brought to you by the letter 'V.'
And the numbers 8 and the color orange.
THE COURT: Thank you, Ms. Maria. Defense, you may proceed.
OPENING STATEMENT BY MR. GRINDAN THE RED
The horsecart operators will be forced to abandon their steeds to certain death by drowning - IN THE RIVERS OF BLOOD THAT WILL FLOOD THE STREETS!
THE COURT: Okay. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. We will begin evidence proceedings tomorrow.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
A Normal, Everyday Conversation
(This is an actual transcript from an actual instant message conversation between apparently deranged individuals - who happen to write for The Censor)
Bob: "Hey, man...how's it going?
Jeff: "Not bad, not bad...I'm at work at the radio station. Listening to casio keyboards and the president of the Spokane Valley Chamber of Commerce."
Bob "Interesting..."
Jeff: "Oh, it's total crap."
Bob: "...and by interesting, I mean interesting in the most boring way possible."
Jeff: "Second worst show on the station. First being the Jehovah's Witness show."
Bob: "I'm at work, too. I've been doing quite literally nothing all day today, pretty much. Yay for Jehovah!"
Jeff: "JEHOVAH, JEHOVAH, JEHOVAH!"
Bob: "That's what their show should be called. 'Yay for Jehovah' - or maybe "Door To Door For the Lord!"
Jeff: "I'm going to start a Jewish radio talk show. I'm going to call it, 'Jews for Just Being Jews' - it's an up-with-Jews group. Hypothetically."
Bob: "Nice."
Jeff: "Also, 'Jews for Satan' and 'Satanists For Christ' - just for confusion's sake."
Bob: "You could have a sock puppet mascot name Jewey the Jew. Of course, since it's a radio show, nobody would know that it was a sock puppet that was talking. I retract that idea."
Jeff: "Well, I could SAY that it's a sock puppet. And then I could take it to the street."
Bob: "Huh. There you go. Idea un-retracted? De-retracted? What's the opposite of 'retracted'?"
Jeff: "Woo! I'm pretty sure that the Jewish Anti-Defamation League would be on my ass regarding "Jewey" the sock puppet. So...in response, I will make him a Hasidic Rabbi. For authenticity's sake."
Bob: "Hasidic Rabbi Jewish sock puppet. Nice. Better make sure those socks are kosher."
Jeff: "Absolutely. No pork socks for me."
Bob: "Haha. Gotta make srue those socks weren't even darned in a factory that once housed pork and/or pork byproducts. Can you 'darn' anything besides socks?"
Jeff: "Got HATES pigs, man. He just fucking hates pigs. He actually put pigs on Earth specifically to tempt the Jewish people into breaking kosher. That's their only purpos. And he HATES them for that."
Bob: "Jeez. God is a serious swinophobe."
Jeff: "It's like when you're playing with playdough and you make something you really dislike and you just SMASH the shit out of it in rage and self-disappointment. That's how God feels about pigs. They are his greatest failure."
Bob: "Oddly, and somewhat ironically, however, on Mythbusters - whenever they need something to shoot and/or blow up that most closely resembles a human being, they always use a dead pig."
Jeff: "That's because Adam and Jesse are prophets like Jesus."
Bob: "Huh...so...God's 'greatest success' is also the closest thing to 'his greatest failure'?"
Jeff: "Well, it's the closest legal equivalent."
Bob: "What? Oh, and by the way, I think that the mustachioed Mythbuster - his name is Jaime, not Jesse."
Jeff: "Blowing up chimpanzees would be more physically accurate. Oh - yeah, right. Jaime, not Jesse. Some 'J' name. Some girl's 'J' name."
Bob: "So - since we're now into this line of discusion - how is it legal to blow up a dead pig, but illegal to blow up a dead chimpanzee?"
Jeff: "Well...hmmm...is it legal to eat a dead chimpanzee?"
Bob: "An excellent question. I honestly don't know. It should be. Why should they get special treatment? Pigs are delicious, though."
Jeff: "True. I'm pretty sure that chimp barbeques are frowned up. Unless, that is, the chimp is the cooker and not the cookee. You know, if you put an ape in a chef's hat and apron and set him in front of a grill, I'M THERE. Kick-ass monkey chef party."
Termite kabobs. Crap burgers. Baked fleas. Crap kabobs. Crap anything, really. Bananas. Banana, crap, and insect kabobs. Chimps have limited culinary imaginations, really. Quick sidenote: someone just called the station to ask me, 'what's the weather going to be like today'?"
Bob: "Awesome. Must be a riveting show."
Jeff: "Thank God for community radio."
Bob: "Now I really am wondering what happens to chimp bodies when they die. You never really hear what happens to them. Or any zoo animals. You never hear if people burn them or bury them or eat them or recycle them or whatever. Is there like a gigantic secret chimp cemetary somewhere?
Jeff: "Cannabilistic scavengers."
Bob: "Uh...you lost me."
Jeff: "You know - apes that eat other apes."
Bob: "What? Where!? There aren't any free-roaming hordes of vulture apes anywhere in the U.S. that I know of."
Jeff: "Oh, you meant in the U.S.."
Bob: "Yeah, umm, okay. That response seems to imply that there are free-roaming hordes of vulture apes outside of the U.S...."
Jeff: "It's in Texas."
Bob: "What's in Texas?"
Jeff: "The great chimp graveyard."
Bob: "Oh, I thought you meant the swarming ape horde."
Jeff: "But it's really more of a processing plant. Their organs are harvested. You know, for implants and shit. And their carcasses are given to rich children as coats. The skeletons? Turned into playground equipment."
Bob: "Yeah, well...uh...that makes sense. Must be small playgrounds. Playground equipment for little people?"
Jeff: "Well, they do call them 'monkey bars' for a reason.
Bob: "Yeah - haha - I think we may have stumbled on a deep dark secret here, Jeff. A dark monkey secret. And to think - for all these years, I thought that monkey bars were so named because they allowed for children to swing 'like monkeys' from them. I've been so naive - it's turns out that those monkey bars were so named because they are composed of the skeletal remains of deceased chimps that have been rounded up by a governmental cabal of rogue hybrid vulture-apes and taken to a Texas 'graveyard' - ney - Processing Plant - where their small bodies are turned into playground equipment. I should have known!"
Jeff: "LOL! That's too funny. But seriously, though. There are no cannibal hordes. Just the processing plant. Only that horrible...horrible processing plant."
Bob: "O...okay."
Jeff: "You have a good day now. I gotta sign off. Chamber of Commerce guy is almost done."
Bob: "Alrighty..."
Jeff: "Okay, see ya."
Bob: "Hey, man...how's it going?
Jeff: "Not bad, not bad...I'm at work at the radio station. Listening to casio keyboards and the president of the Spokane Valley Chamber of Commerce."
Bob "Interesting..."
Jeff: "Oh, it's total crap."
Bob: "...and by interesting, I mean interesting in the most boring way possible."
Jeff: "Second worst show on the station. First being the Jehovah's Witness show."
Bob: "I'm at work, too. I've been doing quite literally nothing all day today, pretty much. Yay for Jehovah!"
Jeff: "JEHOVAH, JEHOVAH, JEHOVAH!"
Bob: "That's what their show should be called. 'Yay for Jehovah' - or maybe "Door To Door For the Lord!"
Jeff: "I'm going to start a Jewish radio talk show. I'm going to call it, 'Jews for Just Being Jews' - it's an up-with-Jews group. Hypothetically."
Bob: "Nice."
Jeff: "Also, 'Jews for Satan' and 'Satanists For Christ' - just for confusion's sake."
Bob: "You could have a sock puppet mascot name Jewey the Jew. Of course, since it's a radio show, nobody would know that it was a sock puppet that was talking. I retract that idea."
Jeff: "Well, I could SAY that it's a sock puppet. And then I could take it to the street."
Bob: "Huh. There you go. Idea un-retracted? De-retracted? What's the opposite of 'retracted'?"
Jeff: "Woo! I'm pretty sure that the Jewish Anti-Defamation League would be on my ass regarding "Jewey" the sock puppet. So...in response, I will make him a Hasidic Rabbi. For authenticity's sake."
Bob: "Hasidic Rabbi Jewish sock puppet. Nice. Better make sure those socks are kosher."
Jeff: "Absolutely. No pork socks for me."
Bob: "Haha. Gotta make srue those socks weren't even darned in a factory that once housed pork and/or pork byproducts. Can you 'darn' anything besides socks?"
Jeff: "Got HATES pigs, man. He just fucking hates pigs. He actually put pigs on Earth specifically to tempt the Jewish people into breaking kosher. That's their only purpos. And he HATES them for that."
Bob: "Jeez. God is a serious swinophobe."
Jeff: "It's like when you're playing with playdough and you make something you really dislike and you just SMASH the shit out of it in rage and self-disappointment. That's how God feels about pigs. They are his greatest failure."
Bob: "Oddly, and somewhat ironically, however, on Mythbusters - whenever they need something to shoot and/or blow up that most closely resembles a human being, they always use a dead pig."
Jeff: "That's because Adam and Jesse are prophets like Jesus."
Bob: "Huh...so...God's 'greatest success' is also the closest thing to 'his greatest failure'?"
Jeff: "Well, it's the closest legal equivalent."
Bob: "What? Oh, and by the way, I think that the mustachioed Mythbuster - his name is Jaime, not Jesse."
Jeff: "Blowing up chimpanzees would be more physically accurate. Oh - yeah, right. Jaime, not Jesse. Some 'J' name. Some girl's 'J' name."
Bob: "So - since we're now into this line of discusion - how is it legal to blow up a dead pig, but illegal to blow up a dead chimpanzee?"
Jeff: "Well...hmmm...is it legal to eat a dead chimpanzee?"
Bob: "An excellent question. I honestly don't know. It should be. Why should they get special treatment? Pigs are delicious, though."
Jeff: "True. I'm pretty sure that chimp barbeques are frowned up. Unless, that is, the chimp is the cooker and not the cookee. You know, if you put an ape in a chef's hat and apron and set him in front of a grill, I'M THERE. Kick-ass monkey chef party."
Termite kabobs. Crap burgers. Baked fleas. Crap kabobs. Crap anything, really. Bananas. Banana, crap, and insect kabobs. Chimps have limited culinary imaginations, really. Quick sidenote: someone just called the station to ask me, 'what's the weather going to be like today'?"
Bob: "Awesome. Must be a riveting show."
Jeff: "Thank God for community radio."
Bob: "Now I really am wondering what happens to chimp bodies when they die. You never really hear what happens to them. Or any zoo animals. You never hear if people burn them or bury them or eat them or recycle them or whatever. Is there like a gigantic secret chimp cemetary somewhere?
Jeff: "Cannabilistic scavengers."
Bob: "Uh...you lost me."
Jeff: "You know - apes that eat other apes."
Bob: "What? Where!? There aren't any free-roaming hordes of vulture apes anywhere in the U.S. that I know of."
Jeff: "Oh, you meant in the U.S.."
Bob: "Yeah, umm, okay. That response seems to imply that there are free-roaming hordes of vulture apes outside of the U.S...."
Jeff: "It's in Texas."
Bob: "What's in Texas?"
Jeff: "The great chimp graveyard."
Bob: "Oh, I thought you meant the swarming ape horde."
Jeff: "But it's really more of a processing plant. Their organs are harvested. You know, for implants and shit. And their carcasses are given to rich children as coats. The skeletons? Turned into playground equipment."
Bob: "Yeah, well...uh...that makes sense. Must be small playgrounds. Playground equipment for little people?"
Jeff: "Well, they do call them 'monkey bars' for a reason.
Bob: "Yeah - haha - I think we may have stumbled on a deep dark secret here, Jeff. A dark monkey secret. And to think - for all these years, I thought that monkey bars were so named because they allowed for children to swing 'like monkeys' from them. I've been so naive - it's turns out that those monkey bars were so named because they are composed of the skeletal remains of deceased chimps that have been rounded up by a governmental cabal of rogue hybrid vulture-apes and taken to a Texas 'graveyard' - ney - Processing Plant - where their small bodies are turned into playground equipment. I should have known!"
Jeff: "LOL! That's too funny. But seriously, though. There are no cannibal hordes. Just the processing plant. Only that horrible...horrible processing plant."
Bob: "O...okay."
Jeff: "You have a good day now. I gotta sign off. Chamber of Commerce guy is almost done."
Bob: "Alrighty..."
Jeff: "Okay, see ya."
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