Latest Issue
Volume 32, Issue 1:
The Heuristic Playboy

Words From the Top

Shape Up, USA!

According to most of the studies done on this kind of thing, America is the fattest country in the world. I know for a fact that this isn’t true, because I know of some island nation somewhere where, no lie, nine out of ten people are John Goodman. You will have to look that up for me, but I swear it exists. It’s called Fat-Ass Island or something. But despite the fact that we are not the single worst country in this particular field, it would probably be a good idea to do something about this, because everyone on that island will probably die of heart disease soon, and then even the Samoans will be mussing up our hair and making oink noises whenever we use the United Nations’ showers.

In fact, Scientists postulate and Wikipedia agrees that America’s sleeping giant will soon enter into a diabetic coma and will be unable to defeat even the most pissant post-Colonial powers. For instance, Iraq and Fat-Ass Island. With the on-average thinner Chinese already running circles around our soldiers in such important fields as Table Tennis and Mahjong, the future looks bleak indeed.

We, as America’s fat citizens, will have to make sacrifices. According to the most recent census, the typical American meal includes a salad with bleu cheese crumbles and fried shrimp, a double cheeseburger stacked with bacon, avocado, onion rings, crab meat, chicken skin, two kinds of salad dressing, and a mayonnaise-based milkshake. We’re going to have to skim some items off the menu if we’re gonna catch up to Uncle Chen. Now, I’ve heard from several experts that avocados are inordinately rich with fat. So, off they go! Problem solved.

Here’s looking at thinner skies, America! We all ought to look like breastless AIDS sufferers in no time!

The Future of Video Game Series

The Sims 3: Barely Makin’ Ends Meet!

Players will delight as their Sims put the “rock” back in rock bottom! Get fired from the slaughterhouse, perform comically censored but highly suggestive sexual favors for strangers, and earn enough to pay off your debt to the Rent-A-Center and feed your hilarious peyote addiction!

Super Mario No Holds Barred Cage Fighting

Who says that even the most violent sports can’t be dumbed down to appeal to a speculated juvenile audience? Collect enough Magical Yoshi Star Coins to pummel your adversary to the point of Super Brain Damage! Time your Golden Mushroom Meter just right, and snap both of your opponent’s ankles simultaneously!

Kingdom Hearts 5

Disney and Square Enix will be scraping the bottom of the barrel as character options begin to run thin. Travel through worlds based on forgettable Disney films such as the lackluster 2000 flop, “Dinosaur,” and team up with allies such as Chicken Little’s dad, one of the Aristocats, and the fat friend from Goof Troop.

Everquest III: The Ivory Crystals of Desperation

In a bold marketing attempt to outdo the wildly addictive World of Warcraft, developers at Sony-Online have skipped the process of developing an actual sequel and opted instead to fill game packages to the brim with crack cocaine.

Tony Hawk’s Project 88

Master wicked tricks and hip-breaking ollies as you struggle to escape Oakwood Retirement Community. But watch out. The world outside is full of steep curbs, revolving doors, and young punks on hover boards.

Pac Man Beginnings

From the creators of Max Payne comes a noir-insipred descent into the tortured soul of America’s most enduring yellow circular thing. When his wife and child are brutally murdered by a gang of dot addicts, Pac vows to go deep undercover to destroy them. After becoming hopelessly addicted to the very dots which fueled his enemies, Pac kills all of them in a violent bloodbath. Unsatisfied, he hunts down the ghosts of the killers again and again, tragically changing him from pac boy…to pac man.

The Diary of the Last Man on Earth

Janaury 18, 2008

It’s been three weeks now since the sky turned green and the storms began. I thought it was some kind of terrorist attack, or environmental disaster, but I’m at a loss for what really happened. I’ve been up and down the coast and all throughout the Southwest and there isn’t another living person anywhere to be found. I’m positive at this point that I’m the last person on Earth. I really wish this had happened after Lost finished.

February 28, 2008

The gravity of this situation is really sinking in. There’s nothing but static on the radios, no television signals, no power, no nothing. Driving around empty streets in this stolen Ferrari really isn’t as fun with no one to see me driving it.

May 12, 2008

Things I don’t miss: advertisements, Paris Hilton, traffic. Things I miss: my insulin.

July 20, 2008

Today marks the fifth coast to coast drive I’ve completed. It’s really easy with no other cars on the road. Five trips, Seattle to Boston, and I’ve yet to see another person who didn’t later turn out to be a man-shaped tree, a man-shaped rock, or a man-shaped school bus full of corpses.

October 2, 2008

I’m to the point where it’s hard to remember what having electricity was like, but I’m not worried. As long as I stay near what used to be civilization, I’ll have all the canned food I’ll ever need. I found a dog, a yellow labrador, and named him Tobasco. It makes me wonder if there are more dogs around. Tobasco makes things a little less lonely. Plus I’ve been regularly fucking him.

January 14, 2009

WHY DINT I START GRWING WEED EALRIER

March 2, 2009

One of the other dogs I picked up got a hold of the gasoline and burned down the marijuana crop, so that takes care of those hobbies. I’ve decided that I’m not going to live the rest of my life as some kind of burned out pothead. I’m going to the library, I’m going to become a scholar. I will absorb the wisdom of all the great authors and become a modern-day Buddha.

March 3, 2009

FUCK BOOKS I LOOOOOVE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED

July 4, 2009

I celebrated this Independence Day by moving into the White House. I sit around in the old president’s pajamas, ride my scooter through the hallways, and pick up the red phone in the oval office and say, “Nuke ‘em? I hardly even know ‘em!” I always have a good laugh about that. How come I’m so funny now that there’s no one around?

November 2, 2009

First Dog Tobasco came in and gave me the good news. I won the election and enter a second term as President. I think my strategy of amending the Constitution to bar dogs from holding public office really thinned the competition.

March 1, 2010

National Security Advisor Muffin was executed today for crimes against the color blurple. I placed the Presidential tabs of LSD behind my eyelids and had the honor guard shoot him out of a Howitzer cannon so that I could see what music his treason made across the green sky.

November 28, 2010

Diary, I don’t know about you, but I think Tobasco has gone crazy.

Transformers They Don’t Want You to Know About

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!”

Class Act

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.

 

A Little Something for the Ladies

An open letter to all you female readers out there, guaranteed to soak through even the most absorbent of pants.

Hey there, lady.

That’s right, you know who this is. You must know, then, that it’s that time again for me, that time when I get the urge. The urge for some of the sweet, sweet, sugary-sweetness of your syrupy candy-hole. Sorry, I also apparently have the urge for some actual candy. Let me take care of that. There are we are; Good & Plenty. Mmm. You know that’s what you’re going to get from me, girl. Get it? Good & Plenty? Yes, you get it. That’s my girl, smart as a whip!

Anyway, I’ve got that urge real bad. So why don’t you come on and hop over here to my place? You can walk, right? No, I’m kidding of course. I’ll be a gentleman. I will reimburse your bus ticket. Oh, and get some kind of fancy liquor on the way, like some Bailey’s or Christian Brothers. I’ll split the cost with you, because, you know, you’ll be drinking, like, half of it. And please, don’t tarry, my lady. I have a thing later. Also I just can’t wait to please the hell out of you. Shit, you are going to be so pleasured, it’s not even going to be funny.

Ah, you’re here, just in time. Actually, you could have been here a little bit earlier. You must have done some tarrying, like I told you specifically not to! Don’t worry, though, I forgive you, and respect your right to tease. Please, come inside, out of the cold. Oh, don’t mind him. That’s my roommate, the Wheeze. Don’t worry about Wheeze, he’s all right. Sorry Wheeze, I can’t watch Robot Chicken with you tonight. What’s that? Well, I don’t know. Would you like a hit off of Wheeze’s bong, my sweet? I’m sure you’ll find its acrylic wizard decorations pleasing to the eye and the soul. No? Well, all right, that’s kind of rude, but I’ll let it slide, because you are going to get the most beautiful and exquisite dicking of your life. I know I’d be tense and stand-offish if I were standing on such a hot, throbby precipice.

Let’s just step into my room. Please step lightly, so as not to knock my MacFarlane figure of Locke from Lost off of that shelf. Here is my futon, where your world will be summarily rocked. Just let me get all these Crunchwrap Supreme boxes out of the way, and we’ll get right down to the festivities. What’s that? Why, yes, that is Axe Body Spray. I forgot to take a shower a couple times, so I thought I’d freshen things up for your comfort. I even shaved most of my neck-beard. Go ahead, have a feel. No, not there. I don’t know, a scab or something. See, here. There, that’s the sweet spot, from the Adam’s Apple down.

I can see from your concerned frown that you’re getting uncontrollably turned on. Let me take off my Rush t-shirt and show you my glistening man-chest. That’s actually not a rash, I just get really blotchy. Now the belt. I like to whip it when I take it off, like I’m Indiana Jones. You know, we could role-play like that, I’ll be Indy and you’ll be that smokin’ Nazi broad. Maybe you’d like to be whipped, Krauty Von Tits…Kyaah!

Oh God, I didn’t mean to hit your face with it. That’s blood. Oh, wow, that’s black blood. You might want to see a couple surgeons about that. That “Spinnaz” buckle really dug itself in there well, didn’t it? Look, my lady, the mood’s kind of shot for me at this point. I’m working with, like, half a chub. Honestly, I think I could do better squeezing one off to The L Word on mute. I think you should probably go home. Thanks anyway, baby-doll. You were a real sport. I think it’s subsided a little–Oh, there it goes again. Yeah, that’s real hot and sticky, and very much not in the way I wanted.

Until next time, my sweet.

-DH

If Frat Boys Wrote Fortune Cookies

Love is like a rose; I’ve bought both from immigrants on corners.

There’s a time to be proud and there’s a time to be humble; everybody yaks on their knees.

You will purchase a hookah over the internet and people will like you.

Nothing says “I have sex with women” like a big poster of a naked woman.

The funniest things in life are the things that happened in Old School.

You will totally eat that urinal cake for five dollars. Oh my god, I can’t believe you did it. Naw man, I’ll give you the money tomorrow.

Every Bro deserves a Ho, and every Ho deserves some Blow, unless that Ho has Menstrual Flo

Don’t let the things you don’t know, stop you from not using a condom.

Masturbation Defeats Sex

Millions of relationships ended abruptly yesterday as masturbation trumped intercourse as the preferred sexual activity. The development of a slightly warmer lubricant, along with the long-awaited release of the Lindsay Lohan DVDA tape, are believed to have finally shot masturbation over the top.

“We’ve seen this coming — heh — since the early 1990s,” Sexologist Raymond Weis said. “There’s ever-more sophisticated internet porn and fetish-diversification along with revolutionary new solo techniques like The Overhead Grunter and The Silent Donkey. Meanwhile, intercourse stayed pretty much the same.”

Weis also pointed to long-standing advantages to masturbation, such as availability, cost, timing, and the rise of competitive ‘shotput’ leagues.

The changeover occurred at 11pm last Tuesday, when men across the country walked out of committed relationships and bars to take their new place in front of computers, inside bathrooms, and in the back row of classrooms.

“I was at Kips,” a random guy said, “And I suddenly realized I could just go home and masturbate. I’ve got a subscription to HornyGrandma.com and a Fleshlight. Why should I sit around buying girls drinks?”

Weis noted that the situation could be temporary. “We’ve seen some encouraging signs among women. Slutty Halloween costumes, generally low self-esteem, and believing that talking about sex makes them cool; all these things should help. But when you see that the latest women’s fashion is an 80s legging revival and sheep rancher boots, you have to wonder about their will to win.”

A Very aDoyle-able Christmas

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

Drunk Driving: Just Say Yo!

It happens every Saturday night all over America, in towns just like yours. Young people gather to have a few drinks, and those drinks turn into a few too many. Then, tragedy strikes: there’s no decent food around. In fact, a lack of late night munchies is the nation’s number one killer of good vibes. Fortunately, this can all be avoided with a little vigilance and a lot of swerving. Thanks to the miracle of 24-hour drivethrus and 3 A.M. drunk driving, no longer do college students bum away in starvation. But when someone’s too drunk to get behind the wheel and drive to Jack in the Box, remember: just say “yo!” Then, having got your friends’ attention, say “shotgun”; that way, you can make sure the driver is adequately distracted by loud, loud music.

“But,” you ask, “am I fadrunk, too drunk to driving bluh hrumfuh?” Just go by this simple acronym to find out every time. After all, why own a car if you’re not going to drive it… occasionally into a telephone pole? Just ask yourself if you’re SAFE:

Shitfaced: Are you?
Alcohol: Want some more, for courage? Fast: Wanna go it? Emergency brake: You’ll always notice you left it on the whole time when you return from getting food.
Alright, so you’ve determined you’re properly slanted before getting behind the wheel. And your jackoff buddies in the backseat are baying at the night and whipping bottles at parked cars. Everything’s set to go. Right?

No, left! Always take only left turns and you’ll end up wherever you want to go. That’s a little tip from celebrity intoxicated driving enthusiast Billy Joel! What other tips do you have for us, Mister Joel?
Billy Joel’s Tip: Hi kids! I’m Billy Joel. You might remember me for such songs as “Piano Man” and “Allentown,” and such car accidents as Long Island Tree and A House. Those were pretty good times, but I’ll tell you what isn’t good times: signaling when driving drunk. Remember never to signal any lane changes (it shows other drivers you are weak) and under no circumstances should you obey stop signs (they take away your power).

Thanks Billy! Now, here’s something else to think about: destination. Pick a place that everyone can agree on; in the case of drunk people, everyone can agree on “food.” Good ideas for late-night eats include Mexican food (carbs) and burgers (meaty goodness). Bad things to eat include gyros (gross) and whatever a hobo is sleeping on (it’s probably a gyro). Also, be sure to have a good idea of where your chosen restaurant is actually located, because if you’re relying on secondhand directions dictated and written while drunk, you’ll be headed towards Ten Hundred and Six Road Street, Drawing of a Penis.

Now, after you’ve made it to the restaurant and loaded up on choice food, remember not to let your buzz down. On the way back, get that adrenaline going again by taking some time for the Trick Round. Now’s the time to pull your best donut, bootlegger turn, or Tokyo powerslide for the amusement of your drunken friends. Who, of course, are too busy eating to notice the sweet, sweet danger all around.
Billy Joel’s Tip: One of my favorite moves is the Moonshiner’s Turn, where you start parked, throw the bitch into reverse and spin the wheel for a perfect 180. Pull that off and you’ll be saying, “We DID start the fire!” After plowing into an electrical transformer backwards.

But couldn’t you just stay in and order pizza? And in doing so, avoid possible damage to property, incarceration, and death? The answer is NO! And I’ll let Billy Joel explain why:
Billy Joel’s Tip: Huh? Where in the fuck am I? What did I just… why is my car in a building? So much smoke… Is this an orphanage? I hear crying. I’m just… just going to sleep this off for a spell. Could someone call my lawyer?