From The Diaries Of My Father

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Vol 34 Issue 01

Spiderman Distracts Dr. Octopus With Delicious Hostess Fruit Pies

NEW YORK—A major jewel heist was lip-smackingly thwarted Monday, when noted criminal overlord Dr. Octopus was brought to justice thanks to Spiderman and the irresistible taste of Hostess Fruit Pies. According to reports, Octopus and two unidentified henchmen were in the process of burgling the fabulous Wentworth Jewels from the New York Museum when Spiderman happened upon the scene and distracted the would-be thieves with a shopping bag filled with an assortment of Hostess Fruit Pies, enabling the web-slinger to capture them. "How could I resist this flaky crust... this juicy filling?" said Octopus, happily munching a cherry pie as police hauled him away in a giant spiderweb. Spiderman warned that any criminal who consumed a Hostess pie would receive a big delight in every bite.

Child So Stupid She Sees Letters Backwards

SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA—According to tests conducted by school psychologists and reading teachers, local third-grader Stephanie Franck is so mind-bogglingly stupid that she sees English text as though it were backwards. "When shown a flash card that reads 'milk,' this addle-pated dimwit responds with utterly senseless gobbledygook like 'klim,' 'kilm' and 'iklum,'" said Shore Road Elementary School psychologist Francine Grunwald. "How dumb can she be?" Grunwald has recommended that Franck be placed in one of the school's "retard-track" classes.

Security Concerns At The Capitol

On July 24, Russell Weston Jr. entered the U.S. Capitol with a .38 caliber revolver and killed two guards, prompting calls for tighter security in the building that houses our nation's top lawmakers. What do you think?

Horoscope for the week of August 5, 1998

After using you as a test subject in an excruciating set of experiments, scientists discover that the blood vessels in a human body stretch 60,000 miles when laid end to end.
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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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Technology Unfortunately Allows Distant Friends To Reconnect

WAYNE, PA—Providing them the tools necessary to bridge a gap that both individuals say they were more than willing to maintain indefinitely, sources confirmed Monday that the advent of modern technology has unfortunately allowed distant friends Mere...

From The Diaries Of My Father

My father, Onion founder Herman Ulysses Zweibel, was a great man and a beloved figure throughout the Republic, until his reputation was eclipsed by time and my own greatness. That is why, for the benefit of those born in the 20th century, I have decided to publish my Pater's diaries in book form for the first time. My column to-day features several tantalizing excerpts from his days on the rugged frontier, as well as some from his waning years.

June 19, 1862: To-day I shot 654 passenger pigeons. That axe I bought from that lousy trapper has a rotten handle. I think the dog has typhoid. I like living in a sod house. Is civil war imminent?

May 11, 1866: D—n! I just found out about the Civil War! That's what you get when you print a news-paper hundreds of miles from civilization, I suppose. To-day I shot 1,297 passenger pigeons.

September 5, 1869: Young T. Herman is looking more and more like his Papa every day, and The Mercantile-Onion is thriving. Last night, I had another wet-dream about Queen Victoria. To-day, I shot 13,841 passenger pigeons.

June 21, 1887: I am a miserable old man and have to be carted from room to room in a sedan-chair. Young T. Herman is off at that d–n panty-waist book-learning academy out East and won't drop a line to his poor mother and me. I was reading about the cocaine-powder, and would very much like to try some.

April 6, 1891: Still alive. I now dictate my diary entries to my secretary, as my hands are gnarled with the rheumatism. Lately, I've had a hard time telling the presidents apart. Perhaps they are all the same man, with varying facial hair? Death could not come soon enough. I think some-one is poaching the passenger pigeons, as I haven't seen any in weeks.

February 26, 1896: Young T. Herman is back from his world tour and has introduced me to a new remedy called chloro-form, which he says will provide swift alleviation of my various infirmities. He has just dipped his hand-kerchief into a saucer of the curious liquid and is pressing it tightly against my nose and mouth. Careful, son, you're pressing too hard. Ouch. Owww...uhhnn...ohhhhhh...

[Final entry]

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