I Don't Need You People

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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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Preparedness

Ice Cream Truck Driver Going To Let These Kids Sweat A Little Bit Before Stopping

MILWAUKEE—Admitting that he’ll never get tired of looking in his rearview mirror and seeing their little legs going at full speed as they struggle to catch up to him, local ice cream truck driver Derek Kenney said that he once again planned on making the children on Maple Avenue sweat it out a little bit before stopping his vehicle.

Productivity

I Don't Need You People

That's it. I've finally had it up to here. Yet another pitiful excuse for a nurse has been hired for me, again without my approval. She's just a young wisp of a girl, and very sensitive to boot: Scold her in the slightest, and she dissolves into hysterics. Just to-day, I barked at her to pop one of my eyes back into place, and she dashed out of my bed-chamber, tears gushing down her face.

Well, the hell with that. And the hell with you all! I don't need anyone's aid to get by. I'm T. Herman Zweibel, world-famed publisher of The Onion news gazette. I practically invented the notion of self-reliance. So I'm running away from home and will leave no forwarding address. So long, you bastards!

I know what you're thinking: "The man is 127 years old and doesn't even have complete fore-arms. How will he survive?" I intend to live simply and close to the earth, just as I did during my rugged pioneer boy-hood. I'll just take along some flour, some hard-tack, a three-legged stool, and some ocelot-skins for clothing. Didn't think I could do it, did you?

I suppose I'll also need my musket to shoot game. And kitchen matches, too. I'd better summon Standish to get them from the larder. Wait, I can't do that, for he'll wonder why I need them, and, being a sharp man-servant, he'll put two and two together and realize I intend to run away. I will have to make fire by banging flinty rocks together. And I'll need a plough. I'll have to borrow one from a farmer. I'll use my electrically-fired wheel-chair to pull the thing.

I will also require a velveteen cushion on which to rest my boil-covered bottom. And a daguerreotype of my blessed mother. Those will be my sole comforts as I set out alone into the harsh wilderness.

I realize that the out-of-doors is fraught with many a peril. The last time I was out-side, in 1923 I believe, I somehow got caught in a cotton-gin. I don't want to speak of it further.

Fare-thee-well, jokers, and good riddance. The last sound you will hear from me is that of my bed-chamber door closing behind me. That is, when I learn how to work the blasted door-knob.