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Pater Is Haunting Me Again

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Michelle Obama: ‘Well, There Are 8 Years Of My Life I’ll Never Get Back’

PHILADELPHIA—Her face fixed in an expression of apathetic detachment as she took the stage Monday night to raucous cheers and applause, First Lady Michelle Obama reportedly began her address to the Democratic National Convention by exhaling audibly and remarking that she would never get the past eight years of her life back.

Revelations From The DNC Email Leak

Last week, WikiLeaks posted 20,000 email exchanges among DNC officials, the content of which led to DNC chair Debbie Wasserman Schultz’s resignation on the eve of the convention. Here are some of the key revelations from the leak

CNN Producer On Hunt For Saddest-Looking Fuck With Convention Button Collection

PHILADELPHIA—Weaving his way through the crowd of patriotically dressed attendees excitedly milling around on the floor of the Democratic National Convention, CNN segment producer Jeff Raskin reportedly went on the hunt Monday for the most pitiful-looking fuck willing to speak on camera about their political button collection.

How The IOC Plans To Address Doping

In light of its recent decision not to bar Russian athletes from competing in Rio despite their use of performance-enhancing drugs, the International Olympic Committee is working to establish more effective protocols to keep the Games drug-free. Here are some ways the IOC plans to address doping:

360 Tour: Inside The RNC

The Onion invites you to explore our view from the floor of the 2016 Republican National Convention in Cleveland.
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Pater Is Haunting Me Again

Aaaagggghhhh! Nurse, nurse, help! Help! The ghost of my late father, Herman Ulysses Zweibel, is haunting me again! Help! Murder! Police!

I can't understand what's been happening lately. In the past week, the phantom of Pater has been routinely materializing in my bed-chamber. What does he want? Why is he here?

Aaaggghhh! There he is again, hovering over my bed in a frightful apparition! Help, nurse, help!

Pater, please, go away and leave me alone! I am a very old man, far older than you were when you passed into the next world, and my frail constitution cannot handle your spectral visits!

Pater never approved of me, so perhaps he has returned from the grave to brow-beat me some more. He always said I was unworthy of the great Zweibel name, and that his mongoloid office boy was more qualified to run The Onion than I was. He said I was simpering and unmanly, and put too much oil in my hair, and wore chartreuse spats, and idled away my time playing with my stereoscope and riding on the Shoot-The-Chutes at the amusement- park.

Well, to hell with you, you miserable old fiend! You were never around when I was a boy! You were always off slaughtering Passenger Pigeons, raiding Wells Fargo stages, or getting into gun-fights with the Schaumburg Kid. I spent most of my youth as Mater's sewing table. That Singer machine was agony on my back, and I had so many straight pins imbedded in my flesh, I resembled Saint Sebastian! It was no life for a young boy with a great thirst for adventure and glory. I should have been by your side on the wild frontier, scalping Methodists and raping wolverines. But I just wasn't good enough for you, was I? Maybe if I had been like your friend Paul Bunyan, you would have liked me more, but, no, I was merely your sickly, pasty-complected son T. Herman!

Well, I'm not afraid of you any-more, Pater, because now that I am old I now recognize you for all your faults. And do you know what I did with The Onion right after you passed away? I put in a bridge column, against your strict orders. Yes, you always thought bridge was too effete and decadent, but I did it just to spite you! I also fired your favorite columnist, One-Eyed Ezra, who wrote the moon-shine reviews. What do you think of that?

Aaaggghhh! Don't swoop down on me like that, Pater! Help, nurse, Standish, Augustus The Stable Boy, any-one, help! He's after me again! Help!

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