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Rural Working-Class Archbishops Come Out In Droves To Welcome Trump To Vatican

VATICAN CITY—Arriving in their dusty pickup trucks from as far away as the dioceses of Oria and Locri-Gerace to express their support for a leader who they say embodies their interests and defends their way of life, droves of rural working-class archbishops reportedly poured into St. Peter’s Square today to greet U.S. president Donald Trump during his visit to the Vatican.

Rookie First Baseman Nervous To Chat With Baserunners

ATLANTA—Noting how important it is to make a good first impression, Pittsburgh Pirates rookie first baseman Josh Bell told reporters before Tuesday’s game against the Atlanta Braves that he’s still nervous about chatting with opposing baserunners.

What Is Trump Hiding?

As The Onion’s 300,000 staffers in its news bureaus and manual labor camps around the world continue to pore through the immense trove of documents obtained from an anonymous White House source, the answers that are emerging to these questions are deeply unnerving and suggest grave outcomes for the American people, the current international order, Wolf Blitzer, four of the five Great Lakes, and most devastatingly, the nation’s lighthouses and lighthouse keepers.

Deep Blue Quietly Celebrates 10th Anniversary With Garry Kasparov’s Ex-Wife

PITTSBURGH—Red wine and candlelight on the table before them, Deep Blue, the supercomputer that defeated reigning world chess champion Garry Kasparov in 1997, and Kasparov’s ex-wife, Yulia Vovk, quietly celebrated their 10th anniversary on Wednesday at a small French restaurant near Carnegie Mellon University, where Deep Blue was created.
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My Year-End Bowel Movement Round-Up

Another year has come and gone. And what an eventful year it was! Among my many accomplishments: I published my long-awaited autobiography; unsuccessfully courted a young milk-maid; blackmailed President Harding; wrote a play; formed a foot-ball team; attempted suicide; and, perhaps most memorably, hired the terrifying mechanical ro-bot Mr. Tin to replace my walrus of a nurse, who abandoned me to join up with my hated nemesis, the rogue thief and highway-man Black Scarlet.

As is the annual custom, I will now present my list of my most noteworthy bowel movements of the past year. If you have a problem with it, you can kiss my bottom! After all, I've lived on this miserable orb for 132 years, and no-one, not even William Randolph Hearst, has had more bowel movements than myself, let alone such memorable ones.

Admittedly, the list has gotten considerably shorter of late, as I have not eaten in 28 years. In fact, I'm not exactly sure what it is I am extruding. But I do not wish to renege on the solemn pledge I made in these pages back in 1906: to make my bowel movements a matter of public record for all to see. This year's list is as follows:

Friday, March 28—Witnessed a comet streak through the heavens, and in terror spontaneously shat myself.

Tuesday, June 10—Standish fills in for my traitorous nurse. As he removes my diaper, he is buffeted by a powerful jet of pasty yellow fecal matter.

Monday, Oct. 6—A thin brownish dribble is the best I can coax from my ancient rectum. Oh, for the days of my youth, when my average daily yield could fertilize a good acre of sorghum!

Sunday, Dec. 7—God bless Augustus, my stable-boy! I caught him in my bed-chamber last night, trying to place some horse-shit in my diaper. He had hoped I would wake in the morning and think it was my doing, thereby restoring my spirits. I am truly fortunate to have such a thoughtful and faithful servant in my employ. He shall get a shiny nickel for his efforts!

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