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I Wish To Go To Heaven

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The Arguments For And Against Bernie Sanders Staying In The Race

Bernie Sanders is ramping up his efforts in the presidential race despite long odds, while sharpening his criticisms of a Democratic Party increasingly focused on the general election with Hillary Clinton as their presumptive nominee. Here are the arguments for and against Sanders staying in the race

Report: Nobody Fucking Cares

NEW YORK—According to a brief but conclusive report released Monday, nobody fucking cares. “Doesn’t fucking matter,” read the report in part, which went on to inform readers that no one gives two shits, so fuck it.

Mom Sleeps In Past Sunrise

WOBURN, MA―Noting that she had somehow managed to sleep through both the dawn chorus of birds and her neighborhood’s early morning garbage pickup, 53-year-old local mother Laura Maloney confirmed that she did not awaken Monday until after the sun had risen.

Facebook Clarifies Site Not Intended To Be Users’ Primary Information Source

‘No One Should Really Be On Here More Than 15 Minutes A Day,’ Say Executives

MENLO PARK, CA—Addressing concerns about the site’s alleged bias in how it displays news stories in users’ feeds, Facebook executives held a press conference Thursday to clarify that the social network was not intended to serve as anyone’s primary source of information, and that its 1.6 billion active users should, at most, be spending 15 minutes on the platform in a given day in the first place.

Heart Attack A Real Wake-Up Call For Man’s Insurance Provider

HARTFORD, CT—Saying the incident had forced them to completely rethink their past decisions about the man’s coverage and how they would approach his policy from here on out, Aetna executives reported Thursday that the recent heart attack of longtime plan member Michael Burns was a real wake-up call for the 163-year-old insurance company.

Area Dad Needs More Time With Museum Plaque

NEW YORK—Leaning in close to the paragraph of text as his family continued on to the museum’s other exhibits, area dad and Frick Collection visitor Phillip Schermeier, 58, reportedly needed more time with the plaque beside Rembrandt’s 1626 painting Palamedes In Front Of Agamemnon Thursday.
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I Wish To Go To Heaven

Booooo! It is I, the ghost of Herman Ulysses Zweibel, founder of The Onion, or, as it was known in my day, The Mercantile-Onion. Booooo!

As you know, my ghostly wraith roams the earth, chained to a printing-press. Every now and then, I haunt this space, whether to complain about my son T. Herman's abysmal incompetence, Henry Clay, or the skyrocketing price of calico. But this time, I am delighted to bear wonderful news: After a century of purgatorial wandering, the Lord is reviewing my petition for admittance into Heaven!

I was first up for membership shortly after my death in 1891. I was confident that my good deeds were plentiful enough to easily usher me past the golden gates. By jiggledy, I was the first white man to bring the cotton-gin into the Nebraska Territory, I played host to the annual barn-dance, and I once rescued a turkey from a raging cyclone! I also played the spinnet very well.

Unfortunately, my sins were perceived as overshadowing my good works. The Lord did not look well upon the time I threw a Franklin stove at Daniel Webster. But the fiend deserved it! He said I was a common rabble-rouser who twisted the truth. Besides, I missed, and he escaped unscathed.

There was also that troublesome matter of my decimating 970,000 bison for their hides. But upon what else was I supposed to print copies of The Mercantile-Onion? That fancy store-bought paper was costly back then!

What really tipped the scales against me, however, was the fact that I wasn't Mormon. Turns out, the Mormons are God's chosen people. Land o'Goshen, how was I supposed to know that?

I hope and pray I shall be allowed to shrug off this massive printing-press and enter heaven at long last. If so, I will flutter about the clouds with nary a care in the world. I will once again see my blessed mother and meet my child-hood hero, John C. Calhoun. I will have slaves and a fine coach with gilded wheels. Best of all, I will be able to rain fire and pestilence upon that bastard Henry Clay, on whom the Roman tyrants have nothing. Wish me luck!

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