Still Alive

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Vol 35 Issue 01

Important Piece Of Paper Tragically Smudged With Breadstick Grease

LOS ANGELES—An important piece of paper was tragically and irreversibly smudged Monday, when Los Angeles marketing executive Nelson Whittier inadvertently handled a sales-strategy proposal while eating a grease-soaked Pizzeria Uno breadstick. "Shit. Fuck. Goddamn it," said Whittier, who was giving the proposal "a final look-see" during his lunch hour when then tragic smudging occurred. "Fuck." The smudges, described as a pair of opaque, thumb-shaped stains, one on each side of the document, are believed to be permanent. Following the incident, Whittier spent the next 45 minutes holding the piece of paper up to the light and swearing loudly.

Herbie Goes Bananas

RIO DE JANEIRO, BRAZIL—Herbie, the media-dubbed "Love Bug," became entangled Monday in a series of madcap South American misadventures which ultimately resulted in his going bananas. "One minute, everything was fine, and the next, Herbie was going what I could only describe as 'bananas,'" witness Harvey Korman told reporters. The sentient 1963 Volkswagen Beetle, in Rio De Janeiro to compete in the Grande Premio auto race, reportedly went bananas after unwittingly becoming mixed up with a smuggling ring, a plucky orphan pickpocket, and an angry bull. Despite the zany, trying nature of his ordeal, Herbie said he fully intends to ride again.

A Woman In The White House?

Elizabeth Dole's recent decision to leave the Red Cross is regarded by many as a sign that she will run for president in 2000. What do you think about the prospect of a first-ever female president?

I've Wanted To Be A Sales Rep Ever Since I Was 34

I'll bet a lot of people out there are wondering how someone like me got to where I am today. How did an average guy who never had a lot of formal education and, frankly, wasn't expected to go very far, wind up making it to one of the top sales positions at the second largest distributor of bathroom fixtures in all of Kentucky? Well, I'll tell you. It happened because a man had a dream, and he never lost sight of that dream. You see, ever since I was just 34, I've wanted to be a sales rep.
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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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Man Commits To New TV Show Just Hours After Getting Out Of 7-Season Series

UNION CITY, NJ—Recommending that he give himself the chance to pause and explore the other options out there, friends of local man Jonathan Gember expressed their concerns to reporters Wednesday that the 29-year-old is already committing to a new television show just hours after getting out of a seven-season-long series.

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Still Alive

Yes, I'm still alive, you bastards. I see all of you camped around the Zweibel estate, waiting to loot the mansion the moment I give up the ghost. But you're forgetting some-thing: I'm T. Herman Zweibel, and in all my long years of life, I have never, ever died! So cease your futile death-watch, you naïve fools, or I'll have my man-servant Standish sic the bear on you!

And to address the multiple queries I've received from readers, I'm not one of those living-dead folks, either. You're probably thinking of my father, Herman Ulysses Zweibel, who became a flesh-eating zombie shortly after his death and had to be cudgeled with a hog-tamer. As I mentioned earlier, death has never come upon me, and I find the idea of consuming the flesh of humans positively repulsive.

Why don't you go pick on some other famous gentle-man who is long in the tooth and could go at any time? There must be some old, ailing, senile politician, vaudeville comedian or sports-man around whose death-bed you could perch like a flock of vultures.

I'll bet that old Li Ming Chinee-man character, my chief rival for the title of World's Oldest Man, never has this problem. I'll bet the only people who surround him are a bevy of concubines who service his withered old prick at the drop of a hat. Apart from you ghouls, all I've got for regular company is my man-servant Standish, Nurse Pin-head, my iron lung, and a half-empty vial of Dr. Klimpt's Poultry Liniment.

My bed-chamber is growing dim. What's this? I can make out a small pin-point of light. Now it's getting bigger. And bigger still. Oh, what an overwhelmingly bright light it is! As bright and golden as the vault of Heaven itself must be!

...Heaven?

Could it be? Could it be that T. Herman Zweibel is going to his reward at last? O glorious Saviour, accept me into Your ever-lasting embrace, so that I may spend an eternity in the joy of Your Divine Kingdom, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, Amen!

Wait—it's actually Nurse with her kerosene lamp. She has come to swab out my rectum. All right, so I was wrong! Any-one could have mistaken the glow of a kerosene lamp for the incandescence of Heaven!

It turns out that I'm still alive, so go on, clear out of here, you army of covetous goons! Pull up your tent stakes, and go loot the house of some other elderly plutocrat who is at death's door! Amscray!

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