Screw Charity!

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Vol 36 Issue 34

'Farm Aid Aid' Concert To Benefit Struggling Farm Aid Concerts

INDIANAPOLIS–A special Farm Aid Aid concert will be held Oct. 3 in Indianapolis to raise money for America's struggling Farm Aid concerts, event organizer Willie Nelson announced Monday. "Fifteen years ago, our nation's Farm Aid concerts were thriving, with millions of Americans flocking to see such artists as John Mellencamp, Neil Young, and myself," Nelson said. "But today, with ticket sales dwindling and subsidies nonexistent, countless hard-working Farm Aid promoters have been forced to foreclose on bookings in amphitheaters one-tenth the size of the stadiums they once filled."

IOC: Many Viewers May Be Using Olympics-Enhancing Drugs

SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA–The International Olympic Committee announced Monday that it will launch a full-scale investigation in the wake of allegations of Olympics-enhancing drug use by viewers. "We have reason to suspect that as many as 18 million U.S. viewers are artificially increasing their ability to sit through the Sydney Games with illegal substances, particularly marijuana," IOC president Juan Antonio Samaranch said. "These drugs enable viewers to watch NBC Olympic coverage beyond the limits of normal human endurance." Interest-boosting doping, Samaranch said, is particularly rampant among viewers of archery, men's handball, and women's sailing.

Bathroom Smells Like Shit

GALENA PARK, TX–The second-floor men's room of a Sysco Vending office building smells like shit, disgusted employee Art McCune reported Tuesday. "Jesus Christ, it smells like actual human feces in here," McCune said. "I'm serious–it's like someone walked in, dropped his pants and underwear, straddled a bowl, excreted nearly a pound of fecal matter out of his anus, and then walked right out again." Building custodian Byron Withers apologized for the foul odor, assuring Sysco staffers that by the following morning, the bathroom would be back to smelling like bleach.

First Draft Of Paper Inadvertently Becomes Final Draft

EUGENE, OR–The first draft of an English 140 paper by University of Oregon sophomore Mindy Blain ultimately became the final draft, Blain reported Monday. "I was gonna keep working on it and add a bunch of stuff about how the guy who wrote [The Great Gatsby] was affected by a lot of the stuff going on around him," she said. "But then I was like, fuck it." Blain said she spent the time that would have been devoted to a revision watching Friends in her dorm's TV lounge.

Cool Ashtray Found

HAMTRAMCK, MI–An afternoon trip to the Joseph Campau Street St. Vincent's thrift shop netted a cool ashtray Tuesday. "Dude, it totally looks like it would have been on Dean Martin's coffee table," discoverer Marc Reiss told friend Scott Ratner. "It's green ceramic and triangular, and it's huge." The ashtray's most perfect detail, Reiss said, which more than justifies its $2 purchase price, is a raised center featuring a full 12 cigarette notches.

Dental-Hygiene Tips

As the old saying goes, "Ignore your teeth, and they'll go away." Here are some helpful hints for keeping that smile bright and healthy for years to come:

I Just Love The New Channel 29 News At Noon Set

As a regular viewer of Channel 29 News At Noon, I must say that I am very impressed by the revamped set. When I tuned in Monday for my daily dose of Ron Reynolds and Katie Hsu, I couldn't believe the great changes! Some very sharp people must have put their noggins together to come up with the new look.

Grandma Pulls Pudding Roll-Ups From Recesses Of Cupboard

SHIVELY, KY–Searching for a treat for her 12-year-old grandchild, Edna Leigh retrieved a dusty, faded box of circa-1988 Betty Crocker-brand Pudding Roll-Ups from the darkest recesses of her kitchen cupboard Monday. "Here you go," said Leigh, handing grandson Danny Meyers the long-discontinued snack item. "You like pudding, right?" To wash down the fossilized Roll-Ups, Leigh offered Meyers some Crystal Pepsi from the garage.
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Screw Charity!

I must admit that my relationship with my man-servant Standish has been strained ever since he won a kingly fortune in a sweep-stakes last year. In spite of his new-gotten wealth, he chose to remain in my employ, because it is, after all, the only life he has ever known. But some-times I think it is also because he wants to rub it in my decaying face. Upon winning, he bought all the servants comfortable shoes, including the lowly field-hands. Even the furloughed convicts who boil down pine trees into turpentine in my vast forest have been receiving an extra pullet or two in their monthly rations. Recently, I decided I'd had enough.

"Standish!" I screamed. "It is only through the most negligible of legal technicalities that I am unable to usurp your fortune. But all this Christian charity is not welcome in a Machiavellian house-hold such as this. Have you forgotten what we have accomplished together, boy? Who helped me put ant-paste in Henry Cabot Lodge's coffee? And who stole the secret of fire and refused to return it to the American people until they produced $2 million in gold bullion?"

Standish looked quite sheepish and shuffled his feet. I knew that would get to him! But he sanctimoniously replied that his generosity was a way to soothe his deep shame about his past. He said he would one day have to answer to his Maker, and that he wanted to depart the Earth knowing that he had fully atoned for his sins. The fool! Does he not realize that you find religion only when you're on death's door-step, when you beg for the Lord's forgiveness like a pathetic wretch? I cannot tell you how many times I've done that. Then I invariably recover and return to being a capital ass-hole.

Then Standish said some-thing so abominable, my catheter shot clean out of my prick. He said he had directed most of his fortune toward the founding of The Standish Foundation, an organization devoted to helping former organ-grinder monkeys find new, non-organ-grinding jobs.

"I'm an old man my-self, sir, and I don't need all this money," Standish said. "Why not use it to assist those who need our help, such as millions of displaced organ-grinder monkeys?"

"Organ-grinder monkeys?" I said. "Screw organ-grinder monkeys!" I am glad that my late bosom friend, the ruth-less steel magnate J. Titian McBrodie, did not live to see such hideous misuse of wealth! This is the same gentle-man who abducted the entire state of Pennsylvania during a steel-workers' strike in Pitts-burgh. To this day, the authorities have never found it.

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