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That Wisecracking Duck Is A Pest

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Lone Superdelegate Voting For Martin O’Malley Feels Like Total Fucking Idiot

PHILADELPHIA—Sheepishly raising his hand to nominate the man who suspended his presidential campaign back in February, unpledged delegate Bob Shiefke told reporters Tuesday he felt like a “total fucking idiot” for being the only person at the Democratic National Convention voting for former Maryland governor Martin O’Malley.

Man Entirely Different Misogynist Online Than In Real Life

CHATTANOOGA, TN—Explaining how his subtle belittlement and disrespect for women in face-to-face interactions had little in common with the bold, outspoken manner in which he degrades women when he’s on social media or website message boards, sources reported Tuesday that local man Colin McManus is a totally different misogynist online than in real life.

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:
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That Wisecracking Duck Is A Pest

Last week, I became highly displeased with my nurse's inability to read to me. She speaks as though her mouth is full of porridge, and it is agony watching her great, fat lips make mush of the effervescent prose of Horatio Alger.

So I placed an advertisement in The Onion in hopes of finding a better story-teller, offering the prospective hire inclusion in my will in exchange for services rendered. I soon came to regret my actions.

As soon as the papers hit the street, a rather low-life duck burst into my bedchamber. He was a revolting creature, with enormous, mad eyes, oily, ink-black feathers and a little straw hat.

But despite his coarse manner, I decided to hire "Pushy," mainly because he possessed a go-getting doggedness that reminded me of my younger self, except that I am not a degenerate duck.

I immediately put Pushy to work, ordering him to read me a chapter of Hans Brinker. But before he could finish the first sentence, he slammed down the book. "This is applesauce!" he said, bouncing around the room, tooting a small horn. He then dove into my lap, and, throwing his filthy wings about me, said, "So where's the loot, Pops?" He let off a horrific shriek and spun like a dervish on his pointy head.

By week's end, I had had enough of that wisecracking duck, so Standish and I endeavored to murder him in a variety of ways. One of my Swiss guards punted him into the next county, but the wretch came back in the mail, his feathered bottom bearing a postage-stamp. Next, Standish presented him with a sandwich filled with dynamite, but when the smoke cleared Pushy was still alive, though his orange bill now sat on top of his singed head. A bit later, a safe was dropped on him, but Pushy merely slithered out from under it, and with the use of an air-pump he inflated himself back to original size.

But I now believe I have the upper hand. I told Pushy he could inherit my entire fortune if he took care of my dog, Nero. Pushy took to the notion like a fish to bait. Little does he know, however, that Nero is an enormous, retarded sheep-dog with a wet, lolling tongue and a penchant for molesting ducks. Methinks we will be soon be rid of our fine, feathered friend.

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