I Been Thinking A Lot Lately

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Vol 33 Issue 19

Noxious Minions Of Satan Offer Free Installation Through July

CHICAGO—In an exciting new promotion, the hideous mewling lackeys of the Dark Prince Lucifer are offering free installation of TCI cable to any household responding by July 31. "Act now and get great basic-cable channels like MTV, Nickelodeon and CNN with no installation fee," sniveled TCI customer-service representative Wyrmwort, faithful servant of the Lord Of Lies. "Plus, TCI offers you more great premium channels than ever, from HBO to Cinemax to the biggest blockbuster movies on pay-per-view." Wyrmwort then befouled his body with goat's blood and hailed The Great Deceiver.

Tractor-Pull Fans Begin To Question Whether This Is What Life Is Really About

CLAPP, TN—After attending their fourth such event in as many weeks, several rural Tennesseeans have begun to openly question whether tractor pulls and monster-truck rallies are what life is really all about. "It just seems like life could offer more," said Arlo Taylor, the group's leader. "Books, theater, even simply appreciating the trees and flowers." Said fellow tractor-pull fan Wilbur Spann: "I understand the high-school theater company is performing Steven Sondheim's Into The Woods on Friday. Perhaps that would be a refreshing and enriching change of pace from our frequent pilgrimages to see Robosaurus."

Fugitive Movie Heroine Cuts Own Hair Perfectly

SANTA MONICA, CA—A desperate flight from FBI agents resulted in a knockout new look Tuesday, as fugitive movie heroine Nicole Woodring, crouching in a stranger's backyard tool shed in the dark, cut her long hair into a flattering, salon-quality pixie cut using a pair of rusty hedge shears. "I am extremely impressed," professional hairstylist Blaine Mattson said of the new look. "She looks absolutely gorgeous." The on-the-lam Woodring, who has blonde hair in FBI photos, also managed to dye her hair a stunning chestnut brown using a gallon of Thompson's Deck & Patio Stain found in the shed.

Naked Man Mingles Freely In Locker Room

NOVI, MI—Bally Total Fitness patron Fred Mahorn, 42, took a post-shower stroll through the health club's locker room Monday, casually socializing with fellow members for approximately 15 minutes in a state of total undress. "Hey, nice to see you," Mahorn said to numerous men he happened to pass in the locker room, his flaccid penis and talcum-powdered scrotum in plain view. Most patrons either nodded or pretended they thought he was addressing someone else. The naked Mahorn went on to sit in the most visible spot in the locker room and apply anti-fungal cream to his feet before eventually putting on a towel.

India Opens New Mohandas K. Gandhi Nuclear-Testing Facility

PORBANDAR, INDIA—Ushering in a new era of nuclear strength in the global theater, India dedicated the $1.6 billion Mohandas K. Gandhi Nuclear Testing Facility at the site of the famed Indian's birthplace Monday. "Gandhi surely would have been proud," said facility director Rajiv Pindar, setting off a ceremonial 25-megaton blast in honor of Gandhi. Visitors to the facility will be welcomed by an enormous bronze statue of Gandhi, who holds aloft an atom in one hand and a missile in the other.

Prize-Fighting In My Day

Do not even begin to describe to me the recent pugilistic matches, because I wish not to hear of them. The fist-fighters of to-day are like babies wheeled about in their perambulators. The great fighters of my youth—Sullivan, Corbett, Kilrain, Kid Ithaca—fought without boxing-gloves and hurled blows that would slay an ox. As an intrepid boy-scribe for the old Mercantile-Onion, I covered my first heavy-weight fisticuff demonstration in 1885, and it remains the most exciting fight I have ever witnessed. The contenders were Alfred "The Strong-Man" Talmadge and Patrick "The Gentle-man Who Hits Other Gentle-men" Reid, two leviathans who drank pain and dined on agony for break-fast. They were vying for a purse of $50 in gold and a fine Guernsey milking-cow.

Area Senior Stays Active

MIDDLEBURY, VT—"Life begins at 90." So goes the motto of spunky area senior Archibald Munson, 91 years young and still as active as ever. While others may imagine retired life to be dull, this resident of the Middlebury Home For The Aged stays active and vital with his favorite hobby–filling his trousers with his own bowel movements up to 40 hours a week!
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I Been Thinking A Lot Lately

Hola, amigos. What's doin'? I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, but I've had a mess of trouble lately.

First off, I quit my job at that fast-food joint. Now, ordinarily, I'm a patient man, but I just couldn't take my jackass manager anymore. I swear, if I heard him say, "If there's time to lean, there's time to clean" one more time, I was going to deep-fry his head. Nobody's gotta pretend to be busy all the time. That's just a load of crap designed to make me go nuts.

Me and my co-workers had been bitching about that manager for a long time, and we decided that the next time he said fed us that "lean-clean" line, we were all gonna walk out. Well, last Friday, just like clockwork, he said it, and I walked out. But when I got outside and turned around, none of my chicken-shit co-workers were behind me. I yelled back to them, "Screw you, you pussies!" and just hiked. I had to go back to return my uniform, though: otherwise they weren't going to give me my damn check. I hate that fucking place. I'm never eating there again.

I landed on my feet, though. I got another job delivering free coupon papers to local businesses. It's sweet. I just run into the stores, drop off the papers and split. Every morning, I load up my car with the papers, get the Led out, and nothing bothers me.

Only problem is, driving around with 2,000 pounds of papers in my back seat is hell on my car. As if I don't have enough problems with it already. It's about half Bondo and rusting to hell. The tranny is slipping a lot lately, and my brakes are squeaking. So I gotta be careful, 'cause if something goes wrong, and I don't have wheels, not only can't I cruise, I can't make money, either. And if I can't make money, how the hell am I gonna buy a better car? That, hombres, is what you call a tight situation.

Now, since I've been driving a lot, I've been thinking a lot. I'm a pretty deep person, and cruising gives me a chance to be alone and think. As a result, I've got a lot to say to you right now. Pearls of wisdom, you know what I mean? So pay attention, 'cause this is just from me to you.

First of all, I have to set everyone straight on something. I've been hearing a lot about Seinfeld these days. "Seinfeld this" and "Seinfeld that," and, "What are we gonna do when Seinfeld is off the air?" What a bunch of babies! That was the stupidest show I've ever seen! Everyone says, "Oh, that's because it was a show about nothing." Seinfeld wasn't a show about nothing: it was a show about four jackoffs who needed to get their asses kicked. I'm glad it's off the air. I only wish they would stop showing Seinfeld reruns before Star Trek, 'cause nothing's worse on my buzz than seeing that junk before Trek.

Okay, here's another thought I had. Ah, forget it. That one's too good for you. Try this one instead: "He who goes to bed with an itchy butt wakes up with smelly fingers." Man, that used to crack me up. Wes "The Bomb" Baumgarten told me that one night while we were all hanging out and going one toke over the line. I laughed so hard I dropped the joint. It landed under the couch and burned the carpet a little, but we didn't lose much weed.

That's another thing I think about while I'm on the road. I think about the good times. I remember this one time, Ron and I drank some cold Miller Genuine Draft beers and went out to the arcade. All these kids were playing the games, but they got kind of spooked when we went in, especially when Ron threatened to beat the snot out of one of them just for looking at him. That was a blast. Ron wouldn't have beat on that kid, but, man, the look on his face was priceless. We played Tekken all night, and I whupped Ron's ass. That was a good time.

I think about all sorts of other deep shit, too, like, if I was driving at light speed, and I turned on my headlights, would anything happen? Or I'll listen to a song I never understood, and, all of the sudden, it'll all make perfect sense. For example, I used to think Foreigner sucked, but then I heard "Urgent" in the right frame of mind, and I had to rethink my position. Now I think they're okay. Not great or anything, but definitely okay.

Anyway, I don't really have much more to share with you right now. But don't think that just because I'm going quiet I don't have any more thoughts. It's just that a man's gotta keep some stuff to himself. You know what I mean? I don't want anybody to get inside my head. That's like some Invasion Of The Body Snatchers stuff. I ain't ready for that.

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