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Volume 16- Issue 5

Incredibly Awesome Explosion Leaves 30 Dead, 60 Highly Entertained

February 1, 2007
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Tragedy struck Berkeley this week when a big rig truck carrying petroleum crashed into a firearms factory that happened to be celebrating Chinese New Year. Over twenty employees were killed instantly by the panoply of explosions that followed, and an additional ten people were killed when shrapnel struck a fleet of hot air balloons which were racing overhead.

Onlookers reported that they were stunned, amazed, and highly entertained by the disaster which then spread and caused further explosions in the city’s coal, water, and sodium districts. The response was so overwhelmingly positive that rescue efforts were hampered by twenty minutes of standing-room only applause around the site of the burning factory.

“Holy shit!” one witness driving by the scene remarked, before accidentally swerving his car off the road and into a balloon stand.

Volume 16- Issue 5

Species of Step-Parents: A Taxonomical Survey

February 1, 2007
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Villainous Disney Stepmother **
_Cruella De Mommus _
**Description : Tall, bony, and overdressed, possibly with an upturned nose.
Where she met your dad : Real mother’s funeral.
Method of Wooing : Icy glare and/or magic spells.
For Your Birthday : Shiny red apple.
Quote : “If you really love me you’ll send your daughter to that haunted boarding school.”
Chance of beating : You’ll soon discover emotional scars run deeper than physical ones.

Jesus-Loves-You Stepmom **
_Holier Thanowicus _
**Description : Your father finally realized that what he needed in life was a moral anchor; a person of unquestionable judgment, unshakeable faith, and total moral authority.
Where she met your dad : AA.
Method of Wooing : Handjob during church.
For Your Birthday : Signed photo of Jesus.
Quote : “You’ll thank me for this when you’re dead.”
Chance of Beating : Depends, are you better than Jesus?

Other Mommy
_Feminius Mustachius _
Description : Here to set your mother straight about how she’s been living her life.
Where she met your mom : Where curiosity and tequila meet.
Method of Wooing : Thelma & Louise DVD.
For Your Birthday : Reusable menstrual cup, cake.
Quote : “Stop crying, I think that parent-teacher conference went great.”
Chance of Beating : Gender dependent.

Abusive Stepdad **
_Backius Handius _
**Description : Their meeting was serendipitous; she was ready to love again, and he was finally out of prison.
Where he met your mom : Courtordered Anger Management.
Method of Wooing : A beating.
For Your Birthday : A beating.
Quote : “I’m gonna give you such a beating!”
Chance of Beating : Likely.

Ten-Years-Your-Senior Stepdad
Dudius Maximus _
Description : “Yeah, he’s TWENTY EIGHT Stan! How do you fucking like that, huh? How old is that bleached blonde whorebag trophy of yours? Sixty? [_sound of bottle dropping]”
Where he met your mom : Community college pottery class.
Method of Wooing : Marijuana.
For Your Birthday : Gift Certificate to the car audio shop he works at.
Quote : “Man, your mom is HOT.”
Chance of Beating : He can probably take you in Gears of War, but you’ll destroy him in NBA 2k7.

Mom-Could-Do-Better-Than-This Stepdad
_Averagus Extremis _
Description : I guess he’s alright.
Where he met your mom : On the rebound.
Method of Wooing : Steady and unremarkable companionship.
For Your Birthday : Coupons.
Quote : “Heyyyy there …. Kiddo ….”
Chance of Beating : Slim to none.

Volume 16- Issue 5

Father and Son Game of Hide-and-Seek Concluded After 30 Years

February 1, 2007

Edward Bixby, 46, recently concluded a drawn-out game of Hide and Seek with his 68-year-old father James Bixby. Edward found his father in the line of the Sheridan County Welfare Office in Sheridan, Kansas.

“I was doing the rounds in the neighborhood, and I had just walked in to put some more Chocodiles in the vending machine when I spotted him,” a jubilant Edward explained.

“As soon as I saw him, I ran right up and screamed, ‘FOUND YOU!’ at the top of my lungs,” Edward said.

“Yeah, some kind of God-damned miracle,” his father James muttered into his plastic flask of Old Crow whiskey. 30 years prior, James instructed Edward to go hide in their Mobile, Alabama trailer home. His ecstatic son said, “I’m even happier than the time he came back after he went out to get cigarettes for two years.” Edward said that he was looking forward to sitting down with his father and discussing 30 years worth of advances in vending machine technology.

Edward’s father was quoted as saying, “Best 2 out of 3?”

Volume 16- Issue 5

Words From the Top

Stop Masturbating

February 1, 2007
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In this crazy chop-chop, let’s-get-going, stop-crying-and-put-your-shoes-on-so-help-me-God world, time is our most important resource. Time and pig iron. And you know who know how to manage their time? Benedictine monks. Whether it be translating everything into Latin or making sweet-ass wine, those sons of bitches were veritable whirlwinds of white-hot, facefucking synergy, and they got results. Their secret? Not masturbating.

As an experiment of sorts, I’ve taken a page out of their incredibly nonerotic book and refrained entirely from riding the highway to my danger zone. I normally spend about eight to ten hours a week masturbating so I’m up to my ass in free time now. As of this moment I’ve lost sixteen pounds, painted my boat, cured Hepatitis C, come up with the best popcorn seasoning ever, and written over 25 hours of dialogue for what can only be described as Battlestar Galactica fanfic as penned by Goethe. And despite my constant shaking and perpetual urge to rub my groin onto various passersby or anything that doesn’t immediately scald me when I do so, the free time I have is just sweet.

The only problem is that I now have lying around my apartment piles of unused pornography, lubricants, and still-inthe-box RealDolls. It’s quite a feat to stumble over them without giving in to temptation, but I can only imagine it was the same for those monks, who had to walk around those cathedrals all the time with those spicy little nuns everywhere, their wrinkled breasts barely restrained by those habits, rosary beads clacking like two efficiently fucking robots… Excuse me, I’ll be right back, in eight to ten hours.

Volume 16- Issue 5

Goomba War Journal

February 1, 2007
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A New Leader, A New Hope

A friend of mine brought me to a political rally today. The speaker had a brilliant two-point plan for reformation:

1) Kidnap the princess.

2) (To Be Announced)

Surely this Bowser is a revolutionary worth dying for. Also he was 14 feet tall and could breathe fire.

Joining Up

My mother cried, and I promised my fiancé I would write her everyday. Oh how I will miss her menacing unibrow and pronounced underbite on the cold, lonely nights to come. They’ve promised me 20,000 coins for college. When I get out, I want to become an orthopedic surgeon. Maybe then I can make myself some arms.

Issuing Supplies at Boot Camp

Today, our allies the Koopas lined up to receive their shells, wings, undershirts, helmets, throwing hammers, pipe-anchors for vicious piranha traps, squid tentacles, spines, giant bullet launchers, swinging columns of fire, or immortal skeleton bodies. Meanwhile, gracious King Bowser has provided us Goombas with shoes.

News From the Front Line

My brother Goomberto was killed today. There was no funeral, no trumpet sounded, only a single frame of animation. I hope Mario chokes on those blood-tainted 100 points and his dreams are haunted by the hideous ploopy sound of Goomberto’s flattening.

Relief From the Rear Guard

Weary from fighting, our division was relieved today by a highflying Lakitu. We all cheered as he swooped down in his flying cloud, attempting to decapitate our sworn enemy Mario. Morale took a hard hit when Mario kicked the Lakitu’s head in and took off in his flying cloud. I joked that it was the biggest victory ever for the Italian Air Force, but no one else laughed.

Comrades in Arms

I hung out with the Bob-omb squadron today. I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to live every day knowing that you could be sent out to blow yourself up at a moment’s notice. All I know is those guys are pretty fucked up. They spent the whole day torturing Bullet-Bills with a hacksaw and reading eastern philosophy. They don’t eat anything that can’t scream. And now that I think about it, for guys made mostly of gunpowder they sure smoke a lot of cigarettes.

A Break in the Fighting

Army Command sent us a special present today to boost our spirits. Bowser and the Princess arrived and did a Laurel and Hardy style comedy act for us all. Bowser had some great jokes about impregnating the Princess with horrible lizard babies, and some real “A” material about what he planned to eventually do with her corpse. I didn’t find her jokes about sobbing and begging for mercy as funny though, but I’ve never liked female standup comedians.

The Final Face-off

It was the kind of day made for battle: sunny blue skies with cheerful, synthesized background music. As I sighted the enemy, I stuck to the plan: I walked slowly across my platform, never wavering in direction or facial expression. But despite my advance, that damned plumber leaped straight over me, as if somehow privy to my attack strategy! There’s clearly a mole in our midst. Or there will be, when we move to Super Nintendo.

Afterthoughts

Why the hell weren’t we trained to stop at the edges of cliffs?!? As I continue falling in endless limbo, waiting to be respawned when Mario restarts this level, I can only hope that the obstacle of my moving body was enough to make him misjudge a jump and fall to his doom. Unfortunately, I didn’t see what happened, as I was walking sideways, according to plan.

Volume 16- Issue 5

Scientists Yet Again Start Work on Project Other than Rocket Car

February 1, 2007
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Research and Development teams at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology have reportedly begun work on a new project. When asked at a press conference how this project would affect the development of the rocket car, developers replied that the current project is “totally unrelated to the rocket car” and “much more important” and “actually practical.”

“Who the hell do they think they are?” asked Dr. Carla Zhang. “I’ve been waiting 13 years for the rocket car, it’s not going to invent itself!” When asked why the prospect of the rocket car was so significant to her, Zhang replied, “Cuz it’s like a regular car…but it would go real fast and stuff.”

Other skeptics have voiced that the scientists’ new project is “selfish” and “couldn’t be nearly as awesome.” The research team have consistently refused to answer subsequent questions about their project, including “How fast does it go?” and “How many rockets are on it?” and “Wait wait wait… to clarify one more time, it’s NOT a rocket car?”

While the scientists continue to dodge the press’ questions, they hold firm to their original statement that lightsaberchainsaw-blender is a worthwhile endeavor.

Volume 16- Issue 4

Volume 16, Issue 4: Ridley Scott Presents

January 1, 2007
PDF Link

Features

Newsflashes

Volume 16- Issue 4

A Very aDoyle-able Christmas

January 1, 2007

Well it’s been an amazing year full of blessings, challenges, and rough-edged rewards. It all started last year when our whole family–Alan, Lindsey, our beloved dog Jonathan, and our beloved son Harold–found ourselves back under one roof, one garage, and one aluminum shed. No empty nest here! This is one momma bird who couldn’t be happier.

I’m sorry our annual letter is reaching you so late after Christmas, but we’ve been knee-deep in excitement ever since the basement flooded. Who knew a septic tank had to be emptied? Not to mention our Mac Performa has been more of a Mac Performnot!

The year started with a bang with our trip around the world. We saw the Eiffel Tower, the canals of Venice, and the shops of Arabia! Well if you didn’t guess, we didn’t actually go around the world; we went to “Sin City.” I’m sorry for deceiving you. I hope that I don’t get in trouble for telling you what happened in Vegas, hahahaha. Or “LOL,” as MSNBC says my kids would say!

Speaking of kids, Harold has been getting a chance to hone his computer skills on the likes of monster.com and yahoo jobs. He keeps joking that with all the time he’s been spending on the library computer looking for a new job he could probably get a job in computers. I always tell him that would be great since it doesn’t look like the candy bar factory is going to be opening back up anytime soon.

Unfortunately, every year has to have its winter, and ours came in the summer: Some of you are aware of the difficulties that Grandpa Jim has been facing over the last year, and I’m sad to report that in August we lost him. One minute he was with us, mumbling cheerfully and incoherently, and the next minute we were in the Food Court and he was nowhere to be found. Mall security wasn’t much of a help, but I’m sure he was taken in by a family that will love him just as much as we did.

But we haven’t let this one tragedy spoil our year. Alan continues to work as a chemist at Chevron and is expecting a huge cash bonus from the company this year. In fact, his burns are healing faster than any doctor could’ve expected, and the dog can already recognize him again. It’s a Christmas miracle.

And little Jessica Doyle was so excited about the Christmas spirit that she was born on December 25th, a full four months early! She’s quite the little stocking stuffer (aDoyle-able, really!). We couldn’t be happier to be grandparents, even if it’s not going to be for very long.

I’m also excited to announce that my home business is finally taking off. Harold said no one would ever buy bird house shaped mail boxes, but I know five and a half people in Michigan who disagree! So I hope you all think of me when you’re planning your after-Christmas gifts, perfect for bird enthusiasts, bosses, friends, coworkers, former coworkers, college roommates, gym buddies, you know, people like that.

I can’t wait to hear from you, since all your Christmas letters seem to be late too.

Much Love,

Karen Doyle and Family

Volume 16- Issue 4

Class Act

January 1, 2007
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Let’s face it; you’re not getting any. In fact, you haven’t gotten any, and by the look of things (you in a bathrobe eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch at three in the afternoon), you’re not going to get any. And by any, I mean vaniga. Oh wait, I meant “vagina.” But you know who gets some? Classy guys. Think James Bond. Think Steve McQueen. Don’t think Kevin Smith. But how can you prove to a girl that you’re a cut above without being declared the Duke of Marmalade? Here are some subtle ways to become classy, my future-virginity-losing amigos.

  • When someone talks about a film, always say that the book was much better. If someone ever questions this, such as stating “I didn’t know that Airplane was a book first,” scoff at them and say, “clearly you are not familiar with the works of T.S. Elliot.”
  • Burn your copies of Penthouse. Replace them with Playboy.
  • Two words: Wine. Bong.
  • A real gentleman knows that you don’t excite a woman with your touch. You excite her with the many ways you don’t touch her: the knowing glances, the feel of each others breath, the taste of the used kleenex she left behind.
  • Buy a smoking jacket, Shriner’s hat, pipe, and the Collected Works of Dickens. Throw them away and frame the receipt above your bed.
  • 90% of the time women decide who they’re attracted to via pheromones. If you have a good looking friend, fashion yourself a cummerbund from a pair of his boxer shorts.
  • Gold teeth, large platinum chains, and diamond pendants are gaudy and scream nouveau riche. Men with class wear refined hidden jewelry, like Patek Philippe watches and Mont Blanc cock rings.
  • When she asks you what your favorite city is, don’t say New York, London, or Paris like so many pussies. Say a French word and claim it’s a small rustic village just outside of Versailles where you spent a summer writing a novel and performing brain surgery on cats. Then remove a single tattered photo of a cat from your wallet and cry out “Mittens! Mittens! Pourquoi la mort vous a réclamée?!”
  • Graveyards are a great place to find free, slightly used tuxedos.
  • Make sure you always have a non-expired magnum pack of “ribbed for her pleasure” condoms in the drawer of your nightstand. Make sure you never use them. James Bond never used a condom.

There. With any luck you will be swimming in an inordinate amount of ladies’ private parts with a manageable amount of sexually transmitted diseases. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some champagne in the microwave.

 

Volume 16- Issue 4

Transformers They Don’t Want You to Know About

January 1, 2007
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Breakout

Transforms from a robot without herpes to a robot with herpes after having unprotected sex with Optimus Prime

Alternate Modes: Robot in free clinic, Robot calling all her old boyfriends
Motto: “But you’re the only one I’ve ever slept with!”

Diebold

Doesn’t transform himself so much as he transforms votes.

Alternate Modes : OPEC pipeline, Machine that sells guns to children
Motto : “1, 2, 3, 7!”

Existential Crisitron

Alone among the transformers, Existential Crisitron is the only one to transform into a jet plane that cannot fly itself. His other form is a very unfulfilled pilot.

Alternate Modes: Car that cannot drive itself, chauffeur.
Motto: “I am the human condition.”

The Transformer in the Iron Mask

Denied his rightful place as king of France, stolen away at birth and secreted deep within the bowels of the Bastille, reviled and tormented, he has lived his entire life in an iron mask, underneath which is an equally iron face.

Alternate Modes : Identical twin brother of King Louis the XIV, minibus.
Motto : “MRMF! RMMFR MRMMFMM!”

Infringitron

Able to transform into toys and other brand-related icons without seeking full permission of appropriate copyright holders.

Alternate Modes: Mighty Morphing Power Sheriff, Crush Dummy, GI Jake, and a Mickey Mouse television set that rebroadcasts Major League Baseball games
Motto: “I’m Grrreat!”

ValuJet

Able to transform from discount passenger jet into burning swampland.

Alternate Modes: Black box, Poorly attended memorial service
Motto: “AAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!”