Oh, they’re cute doing just about anything, EXCEPT SMOKING!Right now, millions of chimps and monkeys are smoking themselves to death.
Furry friends with bad cases of jangly nerves, dieting monkeys, post-coital chimps– they all need our help. They can’t resist the seductive allure of nicotine, but we can help give them a fighting chance by being strong when they are weak.
Working together, we can raise the funds necessary to supply these chimps and monkeys nicotine gum and nicotine patches. These are the tools they need to build a foundation of willpower and get the tobacco monkeys off their backs.
Won’t you help? Send money (a little more than you can afford) to me c/o The Lint Screen and together we’ll help monkeys and chimps evolve some healthier habits.
Did kid con carney? The world stands aghast (with cornie dog and deep fried butter in hand).In a historic first, a carney recently had to pay out a large stuffed animal when a patron miraculously put the ball through the basketball hoop at The Texas State Fair.
“I ain’t never seen nothing like it,” said Lucky Doodrop, a gaming specialist operating the Shoot for Glory booth. “I didn’t even know those whatchamacallit ball-orb-thingies could go through the hoop-y-dealies– but I surely saw it with my own two eyes! It were either an act of God or I got myself snookered, but good!” said the contrite carney as he expelled a stream of tobacco juice into his styrofoam spit cup.
The winning shooter, one Kenny Lorridore of Driscoll, Texas, said he never expected to win. “I’ve played this game for long as I can remember, but I’ve never even come close. Probably spent close to $5,000 trying to win me a big stuffed animal, now I somehow did it! Don’t know where I’m going to put the big sucker, but by gum he’s mine, all mine!”
“It’s just not fair,” said Mr. Doodrop, ” I have been done in by ill-fated chance or flim-flammery, and my heart is truly broken for I loved me that stuffed critter, what that no good cheating kid done stole from me. I aims to see it don’t never get done again!”
With that, the irate carney flipped down the lid to his welder’s cap, ignited his arc torch and began heating the basketball rim, tightening the circumference on his game of chance.
Last week’s “Balloon Boy” story was all the rage, until it was discovered to be a hoax.
Now Richard and Mayumi Heene say all three of their sons are missing and they’d like America’s help in finding them.
“We got some tremendous ratings last week with just one of our kids missing, so we should do triple the viewership with all three of those rascals gone,” said Richard Heene.
“Yes, they are really missing, I swear to God,” added his wife.
“What we’d like to do is have a 24-hour channel and have everyone look for our kids and report in with their findings. It’d be kind of like a Situation Room show without the beard. Mayumi and me would be the hosts, but here’s what makes it even more exciting. If we get some sponsors, we could give away prizes to the people who find our kids– who are really missing for real this time.”
“Yes, our three sons are missing, we haven’t seen hide nor hair of them for a day now,” said Mayumi as she doctored her make-up.
“So the premise of the show is kind of a Where’s Waldo? deal, but we’d call our show ‘My Three Sons Are Missing’ playing off the old popular sitcom.”
“But there is nothing funny about our children being gone. They are really missing this time, I mean really, really missing,” said a distraught Mayumi Heene as she sliced onions and began to cry. “I am so sad, look at me crying. I am crying tears of sorrow.”
“There, there, Mayumi,” said Richard Heene, “with America’s help, we’ll find our kids on My Three Sons Are Missing. Uh, babe, please don’t bogart that onion, dear– daddy needs a little emotive time, too.”
Scum admit hoax.Now that Richard and Mayumi Heene have admitted that last week’s ‘Balloon Boy’ episode was a hoax, authorities are determined to make them pay. Not with a fine or legal proceedings, but with a dangerous act for the couple’s 6-year old son named Falcon who was allegedly in the balloon that received incredible national attention.
“These parents are scum exploiting their own son for publicity purposes,” said Sheriff Paul Orming, “now the entire family is going to have to pay. We’re going to send that little chicken to outer space!”6-year old to be shot into space, fame will followOrming is proposing sending the young boy who was allegedly in the balloon into outer space inside a vintage space capsule. “The parents said their kid was in the balloon and the nation watched in record numbers as the drama unfolded. Later we found out the little coward wasn’t in the balloon at all– he was hiding! That won’t stand! People like drama and we’re going to give it to them!”
Since viewership was so high for the ‘Balloon Boy’ episode, Orming believes sending the innocent 6-year old into space will garner even more media attention.
“This family wants to be famous, well, by gum we’ll make them freaking famous. We’re going to make Falcon a hero, if he makes it back alive, then they can get their own reality show like they wanted, co-starring Wolf Blitzer, Diane Sawyer or Larry King.”
The little boy could not be found for comment. Many suspect he’s hiding.
The war is won. Done and doner! Cue the ticker-tape parade.
After a bombing run late last week, the Man in The Moon has officially surrendered to its overlord, Planet Earth.We own this sucker. In your face, moonie, you’re ours!“Look, man,” said a contrite Moon, “I don’t know what I did to get you guys so hacked off, but I catch the drift– ‘uncle,’ I give up. You guys are boss.”
The Moon was surprised and shocked to discover that the United States of America’s NASA orchestrated the bombing mission.
“The same morning I get bombed, I hear that President Obama wins The Nobel Peace Prize. WTF?! Where’s the justice in your world anyway? He bombs me and gets a Peace Prize? I don’t get you people at all, man.”
Now that we own The Moon, who’s up for colonizing? C’mon, people!
You can run but you can’t hide! Bombs away!!!At long last, we have bombed The Moon!
For years I have been proposing a full assault on The Moon. Every night it sits there smugly in the sky, taunting us with its pristine lunar arrogance and orbital confidence. This morning we finally did the deed.
We’ve allegedly stepped on it, littered it, planted flags on it, lost golf balls on it, even had cows jump over it–– now we’ve shown that stupid satellite (it’s not even a planet!) who’s boss.Take that, you rascal, you! I had proposed we let Slim Pickens ride the bomb down, but NASA nixed the idea because apparently he’s dead, which I don’t believe because I saw “Dr. Strangelove” recently and he looked fine.
Whatever. The job was done and we’ve bombed that baby but good. Maybe now we won’t be seeing so many werewolves and vampires.
Keep them nukes on watch and pointed up, though– The Moon may attack back. That lousy sneaky orb.
