Friday, March 16, 2012

How to Determine False Dogs

1. False dogs can be born but never die. If your dog reaches the normal age of dog termination but resists the natural forces of decay, your dog could be a false dog. False dogs outlive all humans. If you realize you have purchased a false dog, and you reach the age that you may want to consider partitioning your estate to your loved ones, include the caretaking of your dog as a condition in your will.
2. False dogs are indestructable. If you attempt to kill a false dog, even by burning or mutilation, the dog will reassemble seamlessly.
3. A very subtle, mostly inaudible, static accompanies a false dog's bark. It is as though the radio is all fucked up in the dog

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Where's Flan?: The Untold Story of Newt Gingrich, the Hydrophobe

Newt Gingrich never cared much for the beach. He never really understood what all the hype was about. You get all covered in sand, you've gotta bring this and that and the other, and, for a celebrity like Newt, there's always a chance of being harassed, photographed, "glittered," et cetera. The beach seemed to him to be, frankly, a hassle. But it was his granddaughter's birthday and she wanted nothing more than to go to the beach and splash around in the waves with her best friend, Flan, so off the Gingrinch clan went: Newt, Callista, Maggie (the granddaughter), Robert (her brother), the grandchildren's mother Jackie, and her husband Jimmy. They were escorted in a bigass Hummer limo with plentiful acoutriments and by about an hour into the four-hour trip Newt had quite a buzz on. "Global warming...impending doom...this country's gone to fucking hell...faggots and immigrants running around..." His family--the children playing and screaming violently, the young couple making 'small talk'-- paid no attention to his mumbling, except for Callista, whose tiny gap in her lower teeth excreted a tiny squirt of drool as she smiled nervously, patting his back at an attempt to placate him. By the second hour of the trek, Newt was roaring drunk, and his mood changed from eschatological despair to nervewracking, insane elation. "I might not win this election but when...when doomsday comes, baby...when the big dark day comes I'm gonna be ready with open arms, baby, with open arms..." he paused. Nobody was listening except Callista. Disney's "Cars" was on and the children, far too old for that sort of thing, were screaming obscenities at the television while Jackie and Jimmy talked church gossip and sipped sodas. "I need to fuckin' piss..." Despite his wife's attempt at restraining him, he rolled the limousine window down and stuck his body out awkwardly. As soon as he removed his penis from his pants a swarm of bats flew by. Most of them did not bite Newt Gingrich on the dick but unfortunately one of them did. Blood flew all over the place. Newt screamed with laughter. Callista dabbed his penis clean with a cotton ball. "KILL THE FUCKING FAGGOT! KILL HIM WITH A GRENADE!" screamed Maggie incongruously at "Cars." She made an exaggerated throat sound and spat a giant wad of saliva at the television. Robert screamed with violent laughter. The interior of the vehicle was covered in fluids: intentionally spilled soda from the kids, Newt's penis-blood, saliva, whiskey. Callista awkwardly tried to fit a bandage on her husband's penis while he slugged down another glass of bourbon, spilling it intermittently all over her face and chuckling. "Hold still, Newt," she said. "I'm holdin, babe...I'm holdin holdin holdin." Finally the bleeding stopped and, soon enough, they had arrived at the beach. Newt stumbled out of the limo first, and vomited all over the parking lot. It was a cold day, cloudy and dismal. "Fuck this beach," Maggie said. Callista calmly but sternly explained to her that this is where she wanted to be, and now she was going to enjoy it. "I was just fucking with you, Mom, you idiot." Robert and Maggie laughed. The family trudgingly started towards the beach, which was sparsely populated. Newt stumbled, looking mainly at the ground. Suddenly the hellish specter of the water appeared before him and gave him a sweat to the bone. Newt was briefly incapacitated by the image. He crumbled to the ground in fear, sweating, shivering, and foaming at the mouth. "Grampa got rabies when that bat bit him on the cock," Robert announced. "I learned about that shit in class." Newt's face was now blood-red and veiny. His eyes looked about ready to completely pop out of his skull, and his mouth emitted a foot-long stream of greyish-white foam that looked like dirty month-old snow. Newt had fucking rabies! Lmao
To be continued