Buried Alive--Again!

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Journeyman Fan Joins Sixth NFL Team In 5 Years

HELENA, MT—Continuing his lengthy trek around the league, sources confirmed Friday that 36-year-old journeyman fan Brian Ferretti has joined the Arizona Cardinals, his sixth team in the past five years.

Is The Nation Ready For The Next Katrina?

Friday marks the 10-year anniversary of when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans, and many commentators have argued that not enough has been done over the past decade to address infrastructure and emergency response issues that could put coastal cities nationwide, including New Orleans, at risk of a catastrophe on a similar scale. Is the nation prepared for another Katrina?

Department Of Labor Study Confirms Your Job Most Demanding

‘None Of Your Friends Understand How Hard It Is,’ Report Reads

WASHINGTON—Noting that the level of mental strain associated with the profession was far and away the highest recorded, a federal study on workplace conditions and occupational stress released Thursday has confirmed that your job is the most demanding career in the entire nation, and that none of your friends or family fully understand how hard it is.

Neighborhood Starting To Get Too Safe For Family To Afford

CHICAGO—Explaining that the sense of unease she felt walking to and from her home had declined markedly over the years, Humboldt Park resident Kirsten Healy expressed her disappointment to reporters Thursday that her neighborhood was becoming too safe for her family to afford.
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Just Like Everything Else!: Fox 8 p.m. EDT/7 p.m. ABC Pete's wife is still on him about building that darn shed, these kids are going to be the death of Sheila and Dave, and the hot next-door neighbor is up in EVERYBODY'S business! Sunday nights on ABC couldn't be any more familiar!

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This Great Song, Bar Sources Report

TOMAH, WI—Pausing their conversations momentarily to call attention to the music playing on the establishment’s jukebox, sources at local bar Shepherd’s confirmed to reporters Friday that this is a great song.

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Buried Alive--Again!

Leave it to my loathsome, wastrel offspring, J. Phineas, to screw up once more! Yesterday morning, I woke up and everything was pitch black. Not an unusual circumstance, as the curtains are drawn in my bedchamber at all times. But the air felt awfully close, and when I drew my hand to my throat it hit a hard, wooden surface just inches above my head. I had been buried alive yet again! That dimwitted physician of mine pronounced me dead, and my dunderheaded son believed it! Will he never learn?

In the last 50 years, I have been buried five times. I was awake during three of them and had the presence of mind to lie quietly in the coffin and listen to my eulogies. At the first one, President Truman spoke, calling me a rotten old bastard from whose iron shackles the American people had finally been freed. You should have seen Truman's face when I emerged, like Lazarus, from my sarcophagus! I had that lousy hypocrite flogged.

At the fourth funeral, I didn't wake up until the coffin had been lowered into the ground. My hound, Tiberius, dug me up. He tore off my left clavicle, but thankfully, my servants were able to rescue me. Dear, loyal Tiberius!

Wisely, after that fourth burial, I had an electric buzzer installed in my coffin, with a long cord subterreaneously connected to the servants' hall. When I woke up yesterday morning, I rang it furiously, to be sure.

Upon my latest return from the grave, there were tears in the eyes of many at the Zweibel estate. My worthless son, J. Phineas, however, had wasted no time in my absence. There he was at the great oak desk in my study, smoking my cigars, guzzling my brandy and deciding how to spend my riches!

Upon seeing me enter the room, the saphead showered me with tears and hugs, and feigned great joy at my apparent resurrection from the dead. He's made this display before. Little does he know, however, that I have since amended my will. When I do finally escape this mortal coil, I am bequeathing my estate to that woman with the enormous mammaries.