America asks God to step down
In a surprise move Wednesday, the
Concerns over God's tenure arose due to the recent number of people who have been killed under His watch. Hilary Clinton said, "God has lost the confidence of his people and he should go without further bloodshed and violence. The
"We are moving quickly on a
series of steps to hold our Lord and savior accountable for His violation of
human rights and to mobilize a strong response from the international
community," Clinton
said. Unfortunately, he does not have an email or physical address to send our letter to."
Despite criticism of NATO,
Albanian President Bamir Topi left no uncertainty about God’s future.
“He should leave,” said Topi, signaling to the infinite-year-old dictator
that his days are numbered. "Life in Albania is awful, and I hold Him responsible."
The group, "Doctors without Borders" issued its first report on medical facilities around the world on Saturday. After
surveying over three million medical centers, the group said the
facilities have, "managed to deal with the numbers of wounded people and medical needs. However, the hospitals have shortages of medical equipment, including dressings for wounds, sutures and anesthesia drugs," the group said. "And this, too, is God’s fault."
When asked who will lead once God
steps down, America
responded, “Gee, we never thought about that. I guess… I guess we will.”
I hate all these laws!
Take diving boards, for instance. Totally fun, right? I agree. Yet "the man" has to take them away from all our swimming pools. Come on! Here's why we need diving boards back. Number one, fathers have to assume the role of "diving board," flinging their kid in the air. It looks pathetic, the kid never gets high enough to do anything cool, and the father gets tired. How many unnecessary shoulder operations occur each year because Dad blew out his arm flipping his fat kid? Probably more than you think. Second, if that same fat kid slips on a diving board, it's jackpot city for me.
How about all these "warning labels" on food products. Here's why they need to come off. Firstly, if someone were to, say, choke on a marshmallow, maybe they deserve to die. I mean, if we don't let him eliminate himself, he'll be the guy fucking up your drive-thru order. Second, labels limit a company's liability. Do you know how much a wrongful death suit is worth? A fucking lot.
Don't even get me started on "mandatory drug tests." Jesus! What happened to the land of the free? The bottom line, people, is we as a nation need to rise up and take back what was taken from us. Only then can we enjoy our freedom. Real freedom. Like freedom to do what we want, when we want, and, especially, freedom from responsibility. Because if you're high on the job, and you slip up, you shouldn't have to pay. Your company should. And I should be representing you.
Backlash over coat hanger company marketing to pregnant teenagers
The catchphrase, “It fits snug in your snatch” has been lambasted by both sides of the political spectrum. “That’s not the idea,” said Dr. Robert Ludlum, Abortion clinic physician. “Abortions require the skill of a trained professional with professional equipment. While a coat hanger could technically do the job, the effectiveness of the tool has nothing to do with how cozy it fits in the vagina.” That notion was echoed by a pro-life rally gathered outside of the Hanson Hanger corporation for hours yesterday chanting, “Not in my cooch!”
“They should come right out and just say what it’s really for,” said critic Ron Abrams. Other opponents similarly pointed out that Hanson Hangers are not really geared toward being used for clothes. "At $14 a hanger, it’s either a really expensive coat hanger or really cheap abortion.”
Teenagers, on the other hand, don’t share the same viewpoint. “It’s not like a bad idea. I mean, I’d rather take one of those morning-after pills for those night-before spills <giggles> okay, I just made that up <laughter>. Anyway, like, it should at least come with instructions.”
Pro-choice advocates point out that teenagers don’t have much of a choice. “If you’re a teenager and can’t afford to go to an abortion clinic, do you really want to ask your parents for the money and reveal you’re pregnant?”
While using Hanson Hangers to abort your baby are still considered a dangerous procedure, most teenagers agree that it still beats having a baby.
Playing fetch triggers dog to ponder fruitlessness of life
Rufus, a 4 year-old Golden Retriever, was chasing a Penn 1
tennis ball when he was struck with an epiphany. “The construct to which I have
acclimated to and even tied my self esteem into is nothing more than a
repetitive task that has as much impact on humanity as a sandcastle at high
tide,” Rufus said while licking his butt.
“I wish I could back to a simpler time,” the 4 year-old said, “back eighteen months ago when I was a teenager. Back before my delusions of grandeur were shattered by the realization that no matter how much or how fast I performed my menial chore, I would never achieve the heights of recognition my efforts warranted." Rufus then spent the next five minutes angrily chasing his tail around in a circle.
Further confounding the his sense of accomplishment was that around others Mark, his owner, would take credit for his success. Added Rufus, “What a douche.” Continued the dog, "How many times must I achieve my goal only to have it ripped from my clutches?" This game, as it were, parallels life in both form and function." Rufus said before throwing up and then eating it.
The recent awareness is believed to be the result of Rufus getting taken off of anti-depressants. “It’s like the veil of control you perceived as having gets lifted to reveal that you’re nothing more than a dandelion spore in an upwind, drifting with neither direction nor purpose,” Rufus said while eating a piece of shit. “Stop it, stupid,” added Mark, before yanking him away from the feces.
Pathological liar running out of stuff to lie about
 |
| Martin w/ 2 bikes he's never ridden |
“The 90’s were a good decade. Nobody knew how to verify anything. But with facebook following your every thought and Twitter following your every move, you have to plan your lies way in advance. It’s practically as time consuming as actually doing the shit you're lying about.”
Martin recently ran into trouble when he told the other attendants his hair loss was due to chemotherapy. “Yeah, I don’t know,” 18 year-old coworker, Brian Farson said. “I looked up chemo. It shouldn’t leave hair around the side of your head.” Another fib that nearly cost him all credibility occurred when he told Billy Taylor, the most gullible valet, that he was the inspiration for Eminem’s hit song, Stan. “The guy fucking dies at the end of the song. What’s that about? And his name’s not even Stan. What the fuck?”
Psychologist Janet Price weighed in on Martin’s condition. “In a low-status, menial job like parking cars, most workers would validate their self worth by telling a white-lie, such as their occupation’s part time. Martin, on the other hand, would have you believe he’s really a millionaire who moonlights by “test driving” cars at night. “Yeah,” responded Tyler, a 21 year-old valet, “And the rest of the year I’m a janitor at MIT who spends his time on hallway blackboards solving crazy fucking math problems.”
Disbelief in Martin’s stories bubbled to the surface four weeks ago when he claimed he attended the Royal wedding. “Fifteen years ago, it would fly,” said Martin. “Now if you want credibility, you need 100 freaking facebook pic’s with tags. That’s great, if anyone from the Royal family would accept your friend request.”
Further hindering Martin’s lie was his inexperience with photoshop. “Fucking thing took a week. One, because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and, two, because I must’ve masturbated 100 times. If anyone asks, it was 1,000.” Martin’s attempts at splicing his face onto other guests at the Royal wedding were met with skepticism, in particular with Martin’s boss, Andy. “I saw the picture of him with his arm around Kate Middleton. You could fit three of Kates’ heads into one of his heads.” “No, really,” responded Martin. “She has a tiny fuckin` head, bro.”
While Martin has no plans to stop lying anytime soon, he’s learned to scale it back. “It’s quality over quantity. No more “I took a shit that was literally the size of a football” every time I use the bathroom. Now, it’s like every 3 days. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to start small and pace yourself. There’s no where to go once you claim you’re Arnold Schwarzenegger’s real first illegitimate son.”
Bill Clinton having a terrible time finding a bunker for the upcoming apocalypse
When that failed, Clinton Clinton softly
When his attempts at quelling fears of indiscretion fell short, Clinton Clinton
Bill was last seen at Wal-mart purchasing a tent, a portable DVD
player, a bottle of moisturizer, and a Mossberg 500 shotgun. On his way out, Clinton
God getting bored with humanity
You guys don’t do anything. You go to work, come home and sit on the couch watching everybody else live. That’s my fucking job! Seriously, with the advent of the internet every fucking time I try and be omnipresent it’s like I just walked into a live version of chat roulette, nothing but dudes whipping out their dick and jacking it.
The only time you idiots interact anymore is on Facebook. Seriously, if Denise posts one more status update about what she’s cooking for dinner tonight, I’m sending a thunder bolt down and electrocuting that boring cunt. I didn’t breathe life into you so you could grow up to tell the world, “mmm, tuna casserole with a side of mashed potatoes for me and my hubby!”
You have medications for all your “imperfections.” Great, now you’re boring fucking shells of your former self. I didn’t give you manic depression so you could take Lithium and discuss your feelings. I want you to cut your fucking ear off and mail it to your ex.
All your goddamn rules are taking all the fun out of life. Worse, it’s making it so fucking hard to kill anyone what with your blinking cross walk signs and Heimlich maneuver charts. Did it ever occur to you that I want someone to walk in front of a bus or choke on a pretzel? It’s called social-fucking Darwinism. He coined it, I invented it, and you guys are ruining it with your fucking helmet laws. The good die young? Not anymore. You know how hard it is to kill some boring-ass loser without taking out an exciting man? Tell you what, if you can crash a plane and keep the 12 people that actually entertain me alive, you can have eternal bliss.
Can you really not see how fucking lame you’ve become? Kids are experimenting less and less. Couples are waiting longer and longer to have a baby. Me-dammit, I don't even have a mouth and I'm yawning. Seriously, I’m only gonna say this once- get off your ass, travel, chase a dream, take a risk, be original and do it quick, because I’m seriously considering changing the fucking channel. Don’t believe me? Just ask the dinosaurs who stopped roaming the earth in lieu of eating, sleeping and shitting.
"BIG FOOT DEAD" exclaims Barrack Obama to an overjoyed America
The news came as a welcome relief to millions who believed the elusive beast would never be caught. However, some detractors believe Big Foot’s execution was a waste. Dr. Jack Pace, renowned UNLV anthropologist noted, “What would have been a huge source of information has been permanently washed away.” The white house press secretary responded by releasing a statement saying “Bigfoot was armed. He had a rock the size of an avocado and our military had to act.” However, that statement was later retracted when sources reported that the rock was in fact, an avocado.
Perhaps the most disturbing revelation was that President Obama removed the mammoth’s body the same night. Skeptics believe the hasty disposal of Bigfoot was done to prevent any proper procedure of identification. “Let me say this,” Barrack responded. “Big foot was given a proper burial at an undisclosed region of the forest in line with Big Foot traditions.”
Further proof of a cover-up, doubters say, is evidenced by the government’s refusal to release any photos. When asked why, Barrack responded by saying, “Look, the pictures were gross. Remember what Saddam’s kids looked like in the photos when we killed them. Well, it was like that, but a lot hairier.”
While DNA evidence was cited as primary evidence of his identification, researchers were quick to point out that without prior DNA to match up with, there’s no proof. This issue has already been exploited in Mississippi where John Bueller, a reverend at a local church, claims he has identified the body of Jesus by matching it up with DNA in his garage.
The famous `Big Foot` speech, given by President Obama on May 1st marks the same day in 1945 that Hitler was announced dead. It is also the same day President George W. Bush gave his “mission accomplished” speech. “If you ask me,” Mike D. from Marietta tweeted, “Barrack’s just gearing up for campaign re-election and he’s fabricated the whole thing to boost his polls.” To counter, Barrack issued a twitter response of his own saying, “That’s simply not true. We caught it, and it’s dead. For God’s sake, if we had to prove every single time that we killed someone considered to be a national threat, I wouldn’t have time to take a shit.”
As of press time, Barrack is in Scotland where he is rumored to have tracked down and slaughtered the Loch Ness Monster.
Car companies admit to have knowingly supplied American consumers with dorky cars
In what experts are calling the scam of the century at the highest level, all major car companies have been implicated in willingly and purposely rolling out dorky cars to the American public. “It all started when we fired the project managers,” said Ford motor company president Robert Fox to a jury. “We had no idea they were taking the engineers geeky designs and making them cool.” Added Fox, “Terminating them was like giving the football to the valedictorian during the big game and then standing by idly while he throws it like a girl.”
The general consensus in the courtroom was that cool costs too much. “The average consumer has a budget between eight and twelve thousand,” a Kia marketing directing said. “That falls about forty grand short of anything that will get you laid.” “Cars cost a lot of money to design,” Honda spokesman Donna Richards added. “By the time we realized cars were designed with the same lack of charisma and sexiness as their drivers, it was too late. Fortunately, at the peak of geek, Napoleon Dynamite came out and was wildly accepted. Talk about sheer luck. All of a sudden it was cool to be lame. At that point there was no turning back. I’m sorry America.”
Another horrible trade off has been a reduced 0-60 mph time in exchange for advances in technology. “Come on,” Scion founder John Lee said under oath. “You want to drag race in one of our shit boxes? Even if you win you lose.” “Why do I have to sacrifice my dignity for increased gas mileage?” said one Prius owner. Added another, “I’m tired of guys in Maseratis throwing eggs at me.”
As the trial unraveled, it was revealed that designers knowingly fazed out sexy curves in favor of a more boxy look. “What the fuck happened?” An angry car-owner yelled. “It’s like you’re dating this hot, petite chick, next thing you know she totally let herself go. How did my car turn into Christina Aguilera?”
Not every automobile company president showed remorse. Toyota's president went on record as saying, “Sure, we have access to all colors of the rainbow. But as long as these kids think it’s awesome to be boring, we’re sticking with black, white and forty-seven shades of gray. And if someone really feels the need to express themself, we have a few other options.” After a moment, he retracted his statement saying, “No, you know what? If you wanna express yourself, paint a fucking picture and post it to facebook.”
Baseball fans demand players return to Golden Age of steroid use
One fan told reporters, "Defense don't win. Offense do. George W. Bush got that, and it's about time Selig did too." Said another fan, "If I wanted to live in a country where the national past time resulted in a 2-1 score, I'd move to Europe and root for some faggy soccer team. But as long as I'm driving a GMC suburban and drinking 48 ounce Big Gulps, I wanna see some fucking home runs!"
In addition to returning the players to steroids, other suggestions by the crowd to spur on offense include replacing wooden bats with aluminum, making the ball twice the current diameter, and moving the fence in 100 feet. After nailing their demands to the commissioner's door, a riot broke out when a house wife told the crowd, "that's just softball." "FUCK THAT!" one fan said as he doused the hall with gasoline before lighting it.
Fan approval for steroid use ranged from the uneducated to medical professionals. "I don't see the big deal," Cincinnati fan and illiterate guy, Tom Briggins, said, "I mean, sure, steroids make your head get bigger and your feet grow. Well, I'd love to have bigger feet `cuz it makes people think you got a big dick, and it would too if your balls are shriveled up." Another fan sided with Briggins saying, "Yeah, so you got acne all over your face and neck, nobody cares you're ugly when yer hittin dingers!" Dr. Bernstein, Atlanta Braves fan and Endocrinologist, had a scientific view on the matter. "Side effects of steroids include sexual dysfunction and increased risk for cardiovascular disease. But that's a small price to pay to put a smile on my kid's face. Not to mention I just paid eight dollars for this withered up hotdog."
While major league officials decide whether to legalize steroids or at the very least, pretend gaining 25 pounds of muscle in your forearms is natural, other measures to increase viewership have already been approved and include locking the team's mascot in a cage with the very animal they represent. While most teams have agreed, some mascots refuse to participate until they're given medical coverage. The Oriole bird of Baltimore went on record saying, "Oriole's are known for pecking a hole in bark, and my suit's made out of rubber." Baxter the Bobcat of Arizona echoed a similar notion, "Dude, I'm gonna get fucking eaten. Just let the freaks have their roids."
Christmas blows!
What the fuck?! You put my stalk in some medieval vice to hold me up and then think I can survive on a cup of water? It’s been a fucking week, buddy. Try looking in the vice sometime and you’ll see the goddamn bowl’s dry.
Maybe you need a fucking botany lesson. Here’s one. I’m a majestic Virginia pine. I grow to be twelve feet tall, and I sure as fuck can’t carry out photosynthesis with a 60 Watt light bulb, you fucking moron!
Oh, how nice to see that while I struggle to convert carbon dioxide into oxygen so you fat fucks can have more air, you’re using an energy saving light bulb. If I had hands I’d be giving you the sarcastic slow clap. Yeah, I saw an inconvenient truth too. The difference is, I understood the point; which is we’re ruining the fucking environment. What do you think you’re doing by ripping me out of the ground and keeping me prisoner here, you hypocritical fuckwad?
If you at least had the foresight to go to a tree dealer who sells pine trees in a barrel of soil, you could return me to the wilderness. But no, you had to be a cheap fuck and go to Wal Mart, the concentration camp of Christmas trees. I saw my brother and sister wither away to nothing in there, and as long as assholes like you try to save a buck, they’re gonna keep chopping off our fucking roots, you cocksucker!
And while I’m at it, what’s this gay-ass tinsel I’m covered with? I look like Liberachi. I’m a respected leader in my community. Do you know what my peers would think if they saw me with all these balls hanging from me, bedazzled out like a cocksmoking parade float?
At first, I prayed God would give me feet so I could step on the cheap-ass presents you got for your dumbass kids, and then escape this Shawshank crapshack. But I have grown weary and now only hope that He may give me the strength so that I may thrust my sharpest pine needles into your bloated, oblivious eyes.
Bleed, motherfucker, bleed! Feel but a shadow of the pain you have brought upon me. That you cannot hear my screams does not mean I am not shouting. If a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound? Yes. It forms a complete sentence undetectable by human ears. It says, “FUCK YOU, DUDE! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, FUCK YOU!”
Courtney Love cancelled off CSI:Miami for implausible murder story
“At first, I was really impressed.” the CSI producer said.
“We knew she could act, but we had no idea she had so much knowledge about
murder.”
The director’s decision to move her to the writing
department came with a lot of resistance. I was leery, head writer, Bradley
Bell, said. She comes off like this drugged-up airhead stumbling around
aimlessly. But when one of the writers suggested a murder disguised as a
suicide, she perked right up, “File a missing persons report, tell the police
the victim is a danger to himself and owns a gun, pay some low life fifty grand
to kill him, and be in another state when it happens.” Courtney blurted out
before passing out on the desk.
“She’s really pushy,” Ann, one of the staff writers, said. “The
[writing] team agreed that the victim should have a history of drug abuse so
that the murderer could exploit this to incapacitate him in order to pull the
trigger, but Courtney suggested heroine at a lethal dosage. “Who injects a
shit-ton of heroine, and then while they’re experiencing the best high ever, shoots
themself?” To which Courtney responded, “Maybe he shot himself in the head first,
then injected the heroine, assfuckholes!” She then broke her fifth of Vodka over
the side of the round table.
After stealing one of the writer’s mac book pro’s and
locking herself in the bathroom, Love returned several hours later with the
completed episode and a nose full of cocaine.
The murder scene was ridiculous,” added another staff
writer. You have a 5’7, 130 lb. man inject three times the lethal dosage of
heroine, then somehow roll down his sleeves, put the needle neatly back into a
box, pick up a shot gun that’s so long he could only fire it at himself with his toe, and when police arrive, find him with his shoes on. I mean,
really? I’ve heard of writing drunk, then editing sober. But this bitch is
writing drunk and editing high.
Staff editor, Jonathan Glassner, confronted Courtney after
reading a scene where a witness who claimed to have turned down an offer from
the widow to kill the husband passed a polygraph test by one of the best
polygraphers in the country with 99.7% accuracy. “When I asked her why she made
it so obvious that the widow mastermind the murder, she said, “You still don’t
know she did it because lie detectors can’t be used in court.” “I was like,
Courtney, people will still know the widow’s the murderer! So she was like,” “Okay
fine then, the widow will just have the witness killed by a train.” “That’s
when it became apparent. I have to re-apply to law school and get the fuck out
of show biz.”
Then came the suicide cover-up scene. Staff writer Sunil Nayar
remarked, “Courtney, you had the hit man wipe the fingerprints off the pen and the gun." “Smart,
right?” “No, because it’s kind of hard to write a suicide note or shoot
yourself without leaving fingerprints.” “Don’t worry. They don’t find anyone
else’s fingerprints either.” The biggest problem was the suicide note itself, which was a poem the victim wrote plus two additional lines tacked on to give it a 'suicide' feel. “Honestly, and I feel like I’m talking to a five year old here, but it's a dead giveaway when the handwriting doesn't match. Not to mention, the widow, who
was facing a divorce, inherits tens of millions from this guy’s estate when he
dies. How is this not the most obvious sign of a clear motive?” Courtney took a drag off her cigarette and replied, “You guys just don’t understand
the power of bribes and blow jobs.”
While her brief stint didn’t last, CBS was quick to give
Courtney her own crime scene investigation show where quote, “viewers can believe
in the stupidity of the police department and their unwillingness to reopen cases even in
the face of overwhelming evidence.” So coming next fall, CSI:Seattle starring Courtney Love and O.J.
Simpson.
In a bid to generate more buzz for UFC 133, Dana White pits Brock Lesnar against a Bengal tiger
In what expert analysts are calling “the fight of the year,” Dana White decided Monday to put Brock Lesnar in the octagon with an 800 pound Bengal tiger named Betsy. “After Brock’s loss to Cain Velesquez, I knew I had to reach deep into my bag of tricks to come up with an exciting opponent. Well {smirking}, I think I found one.”
Of the fight, Joe Rogan, UFC announcer said, “His skill set compliments Betsy perfectly. Lesnar has well-rounded stand up and a dominating ground game while the tiger has six inch claws that can rip through skin.” Mike Goldberg, his co-host, disagreed. "Lesnar has so many more weapons in his arsenal. He has vicious ground-and-pound, brutal overhand strikes, and a devastating leg kick. Though it's hard to overlook that the tiger can produced fifteen hundred pounds per square inch of bite pressure."
As a result of his training and high-protein diet, Lesnar has bulked up to 305 pounds. And though he’s outweighed by almost 500 pounds, Brock will enjoy a 14 inch reach advantage, which is significantly longer than the tiger’s.
“I believe that hard work pays off.” A sweaty Brock said. “You put in the time, you see the results. Betsy, on the other hand, sits on her ass all day wagging her tail. Maybe she’ll pace back and forth for a few hours. That’s hardly the training program of a champion.”
Set for 3 five-minute rounds at the Mandalay Bay arena in Las Vegas, Betsy will have home field advantage as she is on loan from Siegfried and Roy over at the Mirage Hotel. “She’s a beautiful, majestic creature,” said Roy, still recovering from neck trauma suffered at the hands of Betsy. “Just don’t stare her in the face for too long.”
Brock is already making a bold prediction. “Knock out, first round!” While Brock has been extremely vocal about the fight, Betsy has laid low, not saying much if anything at all. One reporter tried to get Betsy’s thoughts on the fight, but the interview was cut short when the tiger swiped at the camera, shattering the electronic device into pieces.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be some fight,” said Dana White, still grinning ear-to-ear. “If Brock can avoid the tiger’s four inch teeth that can penetrate steel, I predict his stamina will outlast Betsy’s. However, if the fight only goes one round, I predict the tiger will maul Brock in fifteen seconds.
The Onion officially sells out
“While we’ve spent the last 20-some-odd years mocking the corporate world and everything about it, we feel that there is nothing mainstream about these particular products,” Will said, while adjusting his Rolex watch. “There’s absolutely nothing about the Ford Fiesta we could mock,” Carol Kolb, co-executive producer/head writer, added while getting a massage. “Now there’s a hip, counterculture car.”
The Onion’s national digital advertising director, Matt McDonagh, echoed a similar notion. “We believe these products are in line with our viewers. The average reader wants to be perceived as someone who `drinks,` but not a `drinker,` someone who cares equally about fresh breath and a recognizable name, and finally, someone who reads the title of our articles and goes, “I get it,” and shares it on facebook without wasting valuable office time reading the whole thing or deciphering some deeper social undertone.
“It’s not like I don’t wanna write about what I think really happened with Bin Laden,” one of the political writers said, while smoking what he was contractually obligated to refer to as `a refreshing Camel Light.` “It’s just, our revenue stream depends on sheer volume of consumers clicking on advertisements, and our sponsors don’t want us alienating any would-be clients.” “But,” added the writer, “I mean, we can still use biting satire. It just has to be about a topic less polarizing, like the Canadian Prime Minister. Man, I got a good one about him and maple syrup.”
“Look, we’re not in Wisconsin anymore,” said Will, now donned in a full-body Altoid jumpsuit to a room full of writers. “Unfortunately, due to budgetary constraints, we’re going to have to let some of you go. Oh, and remember, next Friday is Hawaiian shirt day. So, you know, if you want to, go ahead and wear a Hawaiian shirt and jeans. And if you could try and remember to submit your articles with TPS cover sheets that would be great. Okay? Thanks!”
Tiger loses mental edge since giving up hookers
Psychologist Dr. Samantha Everett weighed in on his condition. “Tiger’s lust for winning extends to the bedroom. He needs validation on and off the course, and when both scenarios aren’t working for him, it affects him psychologically.” Tiger had a different take on the matter. “To stay focused on the course, every golfer needs something to look forward to off the course. For me, it was stacking hookers on top of each other to form a fuck pyramid.”
Still, many fans speculate as to why Tiger would resort to such depraved behavior. “Do you know how hard it is to get action in the clubhouse when your biggest fan base is a 65 year-old white man?” Responded Tiger. “Sorry, I don’t get off signing some old flabby guy’s chest. I need primo fucking trim with an ass shaped like a question mark.”
The incident has alienated him from his wife and left Tiger without a sexual outlet. “Do you know how many times I’ve masturbated today? Eleven. Everything on the golf course turns me on: `Driving my wood, getting it in the hole, washing my balls.` I walk up and down the fairway with a constant boner. Shit, they had to alter my pants at the Masters just so I could be televised without scaring the children.”
Historian Donald Mayfield from Stanford believes men of power tend to gravitate toward womanizing and seem to do their best work when they are fulfilling the latter. “Frankly, the country was in its best shape during the Clinton years, pre-Monica Lewinksi scandal.” Said Tiger of Dr. Mayfield’s assessment, “Finally, a dude who gets it. You want fist-pumping Tiger back America? Well, then give me back my three blonde fuck puppets, and stop acting like guys in power don’t do this shit all day long.”
"I PREFER THE TERM MUSICIAN"
Says Britney Spears to fan after lip synching her hit songs which she neither wrote, composed nor choreographed.
Nerd cannot believe he is still in the friend zone
While making no attempt at his outside appearance or hygiene, Pinkowitz believes Meadows lack of attraction towards him is because she hasn’t really gotten to know him. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Meanwhile, she’s dating Tom Adams because I guess he can throw a football farther than anyone else. Yeah, there’s a great reason to like someone.”
Pinkowitz has been enamored with Stephanie since freshman year. “Even then she had bouncy hair and perky breasts. But looking past all that, the one thing that always stood out for me is her gleaming complexion."
Though the two have almost nothing in common, Norman holds out hope that they will one day be united. “Hey, opposites attract. She just needs to break out of this superficial phase she’s been going through since the sixth grade.”
When asked if he would consider taking Mary Finkerton, a sweet, good-hearted classmate, to prom, Norman replied, “Uh, yeah, if she lost like thirty pounds.”
