Uncle Sam Is A Bastard

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Vol 32 Issue 18

Supreme Court Overturns Car

WASHINGTON, DC—The Supreme Court overturned a 1978 Ford Pinto Sunday, ending the car's "wheels on the ground" position.

Rick Moranis To Star In Straight-To-Video Release Honey, I Shrunk Some More Shit

HOLLYWOOD, CA—Disney Pictures announced Monday that it has signed Rick Moranis to star in Honey, I Shrunk Some More Shit, the 27th production in the ongoing TV and film franchise. "All heck breaks loose when the family’s lawn mower is shrunk to the size of a little toy mower," Disney CEO Michael Eisner told reporters. "And then the refrigerator shrinks. Then the family’s new piano, then the guy who checks the gas meter, then, for an over-the-top climax, the oldest son’s bicycle." Said Moranis: "Basically, I’m going to be running around the house, shrinking a whole bunch of shit."

Enormous Man Spends Another Day Indoors

DECATUR, IL—Area large man Lawrence Schickle reinforced his sedentary lifestyle Sunday with the decision to remain in bed all day. "I shall not venture out of doors for the remainder of the weekend," the morbidly obese Schickle said. "I may not even go to the bathroom if I can possibly postpone it until Monday morning." Citing exhaustion from the previous Tuesday’s taping of a Simon & Simon rerun, Schickle said he would spend the day watching cable TV and eating institutional-sized cans of Chef Boy-Ar-Dee Beef Ravioli.

Longtime Employee Given Small Pewter Object

ROANOKE, VA—Thomas Campa, a retiring 40-year employee of Wadman & Long Distributing, was presented with a small pewter object Tuesday in recognition of his four decades with the company. "This is our way of saying ‘Thank you’ for all you have given Wadman & Long over the years," CEO Michael Dutler said. The pewter object, described by witnesses as "shiny," was nestled in an attractive cardboard display case, cushioned by a perforated imitation-velvet card. The object was bestowed upon Campa in an approximately one-minute ceremony at his desk at 4:54 p.m., after which cake was served. Campa, who has reportedly missed eight days of work in his career, observed the milestone privately later that night by finishing a bottle of Tanqueray gin.

Nation Horrified By Freakish Multiple Birth

KEARNEY, NE—In these oft-troubled times, it sometimes seems like all America needs is a little hope—some miraculous, life-affirming tale of small-town triumph that puts all the pain and struggle into perspective and reminds us of what life is really all about.

I Gotta Learn To Watch My Mouth

Hola amigos. What up? Me, I've been better. You see, my damn engine busted on my car, so I had to unload it. There was no way I was gonna dump $2,000 into a car I paid $750 for, so I took off the good tires, the kick-ass stereo and the battery, and I sold it to the junkyard for $50.
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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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  • The Onion’s Guide To Gym Etiquette

    Every new year brings a surge in gym membership from new members nicknamed “resolutionists,” many of whom may be unaware that there are unspoken rules everyone must observe when working out.

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Uncle Sam Is A Bastard

Yes, I know Uncle Sam, know him very well. He's a god-damn rat bastard scoundrel, and if I ever lay eyes on him again I'll stab him in the throat. It is I who deserves to be the emblem of our great Republic, not that foppish pansy, putting on airs with his starred waist-coat and his red-striped pantaloons and the like.

He once tried to run me over with his carriage as I crossed Atwater Street on my way to the Onion offices. I barely escaped with my life, and, to top it off, the wheels of his carriage sprayed mud all over my brand-new patent-leather spats.

It was obvious retribution for my criticism of him in the pages of The Onion. I said that Uncle Sam was more interested in getting his likeness on the political cartoons and mechanical banks than doing the job he was chosen to do, and that he shamelessly swathes himself in the red, white and blue as though he had created it himself.

My father, Herman Ulysses Zweibel, didn't trust him, either. In fact, back in 1854, he advocated Shot-Gun Lucretia over Uncle Sam as the official mascot of the Republic. She was a seven-foot-tall, 480-pound frontierswoman from the Utah Territory who could shoot and drink like a man and bend nails with her tongue. She roamed the land with a magical yellow peccary and once shot a man for breathing. Pater felt she was a far more worthy and suitable choice to symbolize American tenacity and derring-do than that spangled jackanape. Unfortunately, she succumbed to the typhus, and Uncle Sam was selected instead.

The last I heard, Uncle Sam was lending his image to a recruitment poster, in which he jabs his index finger at the reader and demands that they enlist in the U.S. Army. It is just like that indiscriminate fool: Just anyone cannot join the Army. It will take men of strong character and discipline to hunt down the cunning Pancho Villa!

He makes me so mad, I wish I could pull his beard. Would that there could be a recall election: I would gladly challenge him for the role of American icon, and you can be sure that, if victorious, I wouldn't strut around like a dandified homo-sexual pigeon with no shame.

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