Sausage being made to express sorrow after gun incidents.

Sausage being made to express sorrow after gun incidents.

After four gun control bills were voted down in the Senate and House, lawmakers took decisive action and passed bold legislation that will make post-gun-massacres easier to handle.

The “Thoughts And Prayers” bill will automatically trigger condolences from Senators and Representatives immediately following any major gun incident.

“We’ve been wasting a heck of a lot of time expressing our grief after shootings,” Sen. Yancy Marlborough of Utah told The Lint Screen. “This legislation will allow each lawmaker to pre-record his solemn message sending ‘thoughts and prayers’ to the victims of gun foul play. When incidents happen, we’ll be able to release our messages efficiently.”

“It’s a critical step forward,” said Rep. Lawrence Blunderfloss of Kansas. “Although 92% of the American public supports stronger gun control measures, there’s nothing we can do to stop bad guys from getting semi-automatic weapons. Background checks won’t work, they’d make a mockery of our Constitution. This important bill will assist Washington lawmakers in expressing our condolences in a time-saving manner, freeing up our availability to do our most important task–– raising funds for re-election.”

After the press conference, the lawmakers slithered back into their offices.

Former Boy Scout takes prudent measures for November.

Former Boy Scout takes prudent measures for November.

Timothy Pinkdroll was a Boy Scout, and he’s taking his “be prepared” training to heart as he undergoes extreme conditioning for the upcoming presidential election season.

“I know some people might think I’m bonkers,” said the 48-year old electrician from Waterloo, Iowa, “but we’ll see who’s laughing come election day.” (The Lint Screen launched an extensive investigative deep dive into the subject, and has learned that the United States presidential election will take place in early November of 2016, or thereabouts.)

Mr. Pinkdroll has hired a team of sadists and is undergoing extensive torturing as he prepares for the onslaught of bombastic media coverage and mud-slinging ads.

“The election season is going to be a doozy of crap show,” Pinkdroll said as an assistant plunged knitting needles into his forehead. “There will be a billion dollar apparatus blasting away, designed to sway opinions and inflict extreme pain and doubt on the electorate. Those who haven’t undergone proper conditioning are doomed to an unimaginable world of pain. It’s going to be ugly!”

With that, the subject requested the next stage of his conditioning as his head was placed in a vise and cranked tightly while cherry bombs were exploded in front of his nose. “We only have five months until election day,” he said in an agonizing scream. “I think I can make it.”

Pour Meister Duke McSlurpeedoo In His "Office"

Pour Meister Duke McSlurpeedoo In His Office

Some people (like this reporter) have to find stories, and some people have stories come to them.

Put Duke McSlurpeedoo into that latter camp.

The free-pouring Boston bartender says that in his 41-year career of serving libations, he’s “heard it all and seen it all–– swear to Pete!”

This reporter perched on his stool, finished his drink, poised pen to pad and asked the handsome bartender to elaborate.

“Oh, you know,” the barkeep said, slowly wiping his altar with a damp towel, “I’ve seen this, heard that.” This scribe leaned in and asked for details. “You wouldn’t believe the shenanigans I’ve seen,” the wily mixmaster clucked, “but they’re really something.”

The Lint Screen journalist was working up a thirst and ordered another four fingers of rotgut, neat. “Do tell,” he encouraged the bottle jockey.

“Man, oh, man, you and your readers wouldn’t believe the things I’ve witnessed behind this bar,” the booze tipper crowed. “Stuff that would curl your hair and make you slap your mother into tomorrow. Yes, sir!”

This grizzled hack slugged back his liquid lunch and asked for a repeat. “Some details would be nice,” he said.

“It’s unbelievable what I’ve seen,” the hootch-slinger cooed as he poured. “You would not believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” The scribe said as he thrust the drink down his hatch, the rotgut burned its way to the belly.

“I’ve seen scandalous stuff. All sorts of sordid affairs. More dirty laundry than a cruise ship.”

“What, exactly?”

“Hijinks. Hijinks to beat the band. Seeds for scandals galore.”

“Do the bump again, and pour me a tall cold one,” the keyboard hunter slurred. The liquor pusher shook his head from side to side as he prepared the drinks and set them in front of the news nose. The Pulitzer-poser gave his libation glasses the ol’ Houdini. “Tell me somethin’, dammit,” he said as he rose up off his stool, stumbled, and smashed his noggin on the bar on his way to the floor.

He bled.

Duke McSlurpeedoo shook his head, wiped his bar and said, “Yep, I’ve seen it all, I guess.”

Scene from a well respected educational joint that teaches how to speak Shakespeare.

Scene from a well-respected educational joint that teaches ordinary joes and janes how to speak Shakespeare.

Recently, I had the distinct honor and privilege of being asked to give the commencement address to graduates of the prestigious Ye Olde University of Shakespearean Thespian Talents. Located in Stratford-upon-Avon-Lady, England, this establishment is renowned worldwide for training the finest Shakespearean actors in the biz, many of whom go on to careers in fetching plates of food for hungry people. What follows is the entire transcription of my inspiring speech.

(THUNDEROUS APPLAUSE FOLLOWING THE DEAN’S INTRODUCTION OF THE COMMENCEMENT SPEAKER)

P. SCULLIN: Thank you. Thank you very much. Please, thank you. You’re too kind, really. Okay, then, please be seated. (LAUGHS) Come on, please, enough. Kindly stop your applause and be seated. Seriously. You’re too kind. I mean it. Oh, no, please–– I don’t deserve a wave. (LAUGHS) But there you go. (LAUGHS) Beautiful. That was a world class wave. Now, please be seated. I mean it. You’re very kind. Too kind really. I don’t deserve this. Oh, not again–– another wave! (LAUGHS) Okay, now stop! Quit the applause and be seated. I mean it.

Finally, thank you for your warm welcome. Now, I’d like to give you some valuable life advice.

Um, yes. Right. Um. Hmmm.

Advice.

(AWKWARD SIXTEEN MINUTES OF SILENCE)

Line!

(THE DISTINGUISHED SPEAKER THEN WET HIMSELF AND RAN OFF STAGE SCREAMING)

(AND… SCENE)

Chillin' with the buzzer.

Chillin’ with the buzzer.

A honeybee today confessed he was not “busy as a bee.” “Really,” the bee continued in his prepared statement. “I’m just not terribly busy. Kind of bored, actually. Been pretty chill.”

And with that, the bee fell asleep.

The world was stunned. Abuzz, even! Up was down, right was left, never would Shania and Mark Twain meet.

Portrait of the artist as a two-wheeled young man.

Portrait of the artist as a two-wheeled young man.

Dylanistas have rejoiced at the recent news that notebooks of Bob’s working lyrics from his “Blood on The Tracks” days have been discovered and archived in Oklahoma at a cost of an estimated $15-$20 million.

Not bad for a dude from Hibbing, MN.

Now, another Dylan notebook has been found in Woodstock, New York, where the master lived following his motorcycle accident in the summer of 1966.

“This notebook is an incredible discovery,” Dr. Kerry Hubabbabba told The Lint Screen. “It shows Dylan at his most vulnerable–– the reluctant voice of a generation who has both metaphorically and literally crashed on the road. While it may not be some of his best work, it is some of his most curious and thought-provoking. On its pages, we witness an artist obviously in search of something. What exactly? Your guess is as good as mine, maybe better because I have pretty low self-esteem since my divorce.”

Here are some excerpts from the “accidental Dylan” notebook:

ROAD BURNED
“there’s nothing here
I ain’t seen before
cuz nothing matters anymore
I think I’ll go and try to get some sleep
god, my leg burns like hell”

THE CHASE
“don’t tell you don’t think that
things couldn’t be better
we had our time
chasing the big and little hands
round the numbers
they went round an round
wish I had some more pain pills so I could get some damn sleep”

THE DOCTOR
“he comes in
an checks me out
says I’m doin well
well that I doubt
feel like hell
write me some scripts now
you damn white coat bastard you
so pain pill’s will release me
from something or other
some word that may or may not rhyme”

NO SLEEP
“four twenty-two A.M.
the clock announces
my eyelids are flappin
mouth’s yawnin exhausted
no coal in the engine
but still I can’t stop
wish had more pills
pills I could pop
crap–– think I mighta busted my shoulder too!”

I HATE MOTORCYCLES
“two wheels
tryin to kill
never gonna saddle
feel your thrills
pills are kickin in
pretty unicorns fly
got dragon airlift
take you up in the sky
rainbows and magic will be something nice to have
wonder if there’s any roast beef left
could use a sandwich
I’m starved dammit
hope Sara got something at the store
are we out of mayo?
I wonder”

For the time being, Dylan’s “Accidental Notebook” is being housed Earl’s Ace Hardware in Woodstock, by the cash register.

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