A plea to these two fine men.

An impassioned plea to these two fine men to settle their differences rationally.

The Lint Screen has learned that Floyd Mayweather, Jr. is scheduled to fight Manny Pacquiao tomorrow in what many are calling “The Fight of The Century”–– and we are worried sick.

In the interest of humanity, TLS is offering $10 (an Abe per-man) if they lay down their gloves and shake hands.

We believe there is too much violence in this world and that canvas should be used for painting pony and rainbows, not splattering with blood, mucus and sweat.

We want you two guys to sit down and rationally discuss any conflicts you may have. We are happy to monitor and referee your spirited debate.

Please, gentlemen, settle your disputes like proper gentlemen!

If you do fight tomorrow night, Mr. Mayweather, we’d appreciate your taking a dive in the eighth round. We’ll make it work your while (a crisp Jackson!).

Thank you.

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Man discovered deep in Amazon jungles, claims no knowledge of mega-news story!!!

Man discovered deep in Amazon jungle, claims no knowledge of mega-news story!!!

The Lint Screen has made the startling discovery of a man claiming no knowledge of Bruce Jenner’s stunning sex change story.

“Nope, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the man who refused to identify himself on the condition it would destroy his anonymity. “And why would anyone care?”

When he was told of Jenner’s connection to the Kardashian family, he shrugged. “Who’s that?”

Obviously the news media needs to work much, much harder.

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Popeye has trouble controlling his emotions.

Popeye has trouble controlling his emotions.

Popeye, the sailor man, has been arrested and jailed following a savage beating of his nemesis, Bluto, who was hospitalized and pressed charges.

“I wasn’t doing nothing,” Bluto said. “I’ve been dealing with my anger management issues for the past ten months. I changed to a vegan diet, I’m drinking soy milk, meditating, getting therapy, listening to Yanni and lighting Yankee Candles. I’m feeling chill. So, I was just sitting at a table minding my own business when Popeye comes in and accuses me of hitting on his gal, Olive Oyl. Right, me hitting on her. Anyway, I stand up and before I could open my yap, the pipe-smokin’ bully starts giving me a facial with his fists. I’m tellin’ ya, that guy’s got some serious rage issues.”

An emergency medical team was dispatched to care for the burly mountain of a man as police worked to subdue the raging sailor. “Popeye looked like he was really whacked out on the green,” reported police chief Hank E. Samppy. “He reeked of the leafy stuff. The guy had to be a couple cans to the wind.”

Olive Oyl told The Lint Screen that Popeye has been very depressed lately. “He’s been upset because Bluto’s been so mellow. He said he needed an adversary and it wasn’t fair. Said it’d be like Tom and Jerry having a peace accord. Popeye didn’t feel it was natural.”

Asked to comment on his violent explosion, Popeye said, “Look, I yam what I yam. Wanna make something of it, punk?”

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No new  taxes mean you'll be seeing a lot more of him.

No new taxes mean you’ll be seeing a lot more of him.

Americans greet the prospect of raising taxes as if it were a bubonic plague-HIV-leprosy-cancer cocktail. A fate worse than death itself.

But if local governments can’t get money through taxes, they’ll get their dough a different way–– through badge-wearing-revenue-generators. Those flashing cherry tops are like cash registers ringing for the locals, and if you think you’ve been seeing a lot more speed traps and cop-feeding frenzies, it’s because you have eyes.

This reporter for The Lint Screen got busted yesterday in a small South Carolina town. I turned off an interstate, was on a two-line highway where I saw no speed limit sign, and BAM, had a cop flashing his lights in my rear view mirror. I was speeding, quite a bit according to him (for the record, there were no animals or children in the front grille). He wrote me up and told me I had to appear in court, or, I could pay by mail with a certified check and, if I acted fast, he’d do me a solid and reduce the fine and correlating points. It was like getting busted by a telemarketer. At the golf tournament I was going to (in such a hurry), I met another guy who was popped by the same cop in the same place.

The last speeding ticket I got was in North Carolina. In that case, I hired an attorney by phone who went over to the courthouse and magically got my ticket price and points reduced. All it took was money to pay him his legal fees.

I suppose I could obey your laws and stay out of trouble, but it’s getting to be a police state out there, a natural byproduct of our anti-tax obsession. I believe cash-strapped municipalities put it to the cops simply–– if you don’t generate $XXXXX in fines, we may have to cut your position.

It’s a boon for the insurance industry who will jack premium rates 20-30% for a speeding ticket. It’s a huge business for “billboard attorneys” who advertise themselves as ticket fixers. It’s a big business feeding off the citizenry.

But me, I’d rather just pay a little more in taxes. Going to go play some Bobby Fuller Four now…

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The Godfather of Soul may have had the funk, but he had no shot at a green jacket.

The Godfather of Soul may have had the funk, but he had no shot at a green jacket.

Before the 79th Masters Tournament begins Thursday, The Lint Screen has unearthed some tasty tidbits you may want to know about the 2015 season’s first major, besides the fact that this year it will be televised.
1. Augusta native James Brown never played in a Masters Tournament, despite the fact he often bragged “Papa got a brand new bag”
2. Players must be invited to participate and the selection committee says “those who didn’t receive an invitation probably need to tip their mailman more during the holidays (LOL)
3. There is a very strict dress code: “no cut-offs, tank tops, sneakers or bandanas”
4. Each player must have his own caddy and said caddy cannot be heard reciting lines from Caddyshack (strictly enforced)
5. The Tournament winner is presented with a Masters Green Jacket, a tradition started in 1934 after Bobby Jones “got such a deal” on 100 green jackets
6. The Augusta National Golf Club is pretty difficult and participants are advised “to bring some extra balls or buy some ‘gently used ones’ in the pro shop”
7. The famous Eisenhower Tree removed in February of 2014 due to ice damage is buried next to Ike in Abilene, Kansas
8. There are no beer carts on the course, players are advised to stock their bags accordingly
9. Tiger Woods will play in this year’s Tournament since he finally called for a tee time; officials admonished him to not wait so long to make reservations or he “won’t be so lucky next time”
10. There is a limit of one mulligan per round, NO EXCEPTIONS

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This madcap Facebooker is about to change his life with a selfie stick!

This madcap Facebooker is about to change his life with a selfie stick!

Tim Walprubb announced today that he has ordered a selfie stick from Amazon. “I felt like the time was right,” said the Facebooker with over 45 close friends. “Once I get my ‘mug-o-lator’, I can take all sorts of snaps and post them. I think it’s really going to change the game for me.”

Walprubb, age 34, has never married or been in a serious relationship. “Not that I know of,” he says, then adds, “LOL!” He believes the selfie stick could be the key to his future happiness and finding love. “I think my biggest problem might be that people aren’t getting a sense of my zany brand of humor. With the selfie stick, I’ll be able to snap candids of me in shoe stores, with my cats, peeping out of sewers, dumpster diving or leaning over a bridge like I’m going to jump–– just about anywhere–– it’s all fair game once I get team SS working for me! It was either get the selfie stick, or grow my arms three or four feet! I searched like the dickens, and Amazon doesn’t sell racks for stretching. LMAO!!!”

Interested women should “friend” Tim Walprubb on the popular Facebook website, and be on the lookout for more candid shots of the self-described “Walprubberator”.

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