In an extraordinary move, Candlewick Publishing has announced all future issues of the Where’s Waldo series of children’s books will replace the Waldo character with Osama Bin Laden. The famed children’s book has been lagging in sales lately, and
editors felt a new twist was needed in order to drum up excitement for the upcoming
printing. “Think of it as a primer,” says a spokesman for Candlewick. “Kids
will be able to have fun, while also being programmed to be suspicious of brown-skinned
guys in turbans.” Although his permission was not solicited for the upcoming publication, Osama seemed excited about the prospect in his last video. "Waldo’s a great guy. I’m honored to take his place. Oh, and Death to America!" Complimentary copies will be sent to President Bush and all
White House officials in hopes that it will help them finally locate the
mastermind of 9/11.

BOSTON, Mass. – All Highway 93 wants is the peace of mind that comes from a stable father
figure to look after it and ensure its safety. Instead, the highway has been
living in virtual squalor, the victim of months of neglect from its adopted
father, local bartender Terry Figmore.

By all accounts 93 is a sweet, charming 6 lane highway that heads from  New
  Hampshire towards the Boston Harbor. Known for its calm, grassy knolls
and smooth riding, the highway has suffered from undeserved neglect since his
adoptive father disappeared. Figmore is wanted on felony charges for willfully
failing to keep up the highway and is considered one of the states most
notorious deadbeat fathers, say state officials.


“He scum,” says ex-wife Tammy. “We made the decision to
adopt the highway together, then he skips out on the next bus out of town. Our
whole family’s been struggling just to keep the litter by the dividers under

Without Figmore to help alleviate the hardship, Highway 93
has had to endure an overwhelming barrage of McDonald’s burger wrappers,
cigarette butts, used condoms, hefty sacks, boxes, broken glass and random

Social Services has had to assist Tammy and the highway’s
little brother Timmy in the care and upkeep of the road. Timmy does not hide
his resentment. “I hate him. How could dad do this to us? We have to work our
asses off inhaling carbon monoxide all day in orange vests while he’s living
the high life? It’s just wrong.”

While Figmore still remains at large, Boston officials remain hopeful he will be caught, imprisoned and forced to clean the
same highway he abandoned with the inmates who sodomize him in the shower.

(UNASSOCIATED PRESS)- In anticipation of the upcoming Oscar telecast, a incomprehensibly dense
whirlwind of Br
okeback Mountain parodies have accumulated in a massive conglomeration
of dark matter around the sun, threatening a cataclysmic explosion and ripping space-time as we know it.

Scientists suspect the enormous number of amateur and professional comedians,
performers, pundits, bloggers, commentators, speakers, editorialists, and
writers cashing in on the film about gay cowboys has caused this highly
unnatural influx. By some estimates, the oncoming explosion after Jon Stewart’s
opening monologue at the Oscars may be equivalent to over 11 million H-Bombs.

"This is an unprecedented astronomical moment," says renowned physicist Stephen Hawking, "Not since the unknown forces that instigated the Big
Bang has there been such a monolithic cosmic event. Plus, Heath Ledger is hot."

If the joking continues, Brokeback Mountain’s momentum may cause a critical mass in humor,
forcing the gravitational field of the sun to get stronger as it contracts,
bending a
ll light inescapably inward. As the jokes from late night TV show
hosts and websites continue, it will force the sun to shrink to a zero sum
radius; time will stop and all life on earth will cease as the earth gets
caught in the black hole’s event horizon of hilarity.

Last Tuesday the U.N. passed a joint resolution signed by 117 nations condemning the
parodies, and officials worldwide have begged for a temporary moratorium on all
Brokeback inspired humor. But that hasn’t slowed the momentum. “It’s such an
easy target,” exclaimed a comic who wished to remain anonymous, “Gay Cowboys? Earnest
hillbilly talk? Humpin’ on the range? How can you pass that up? It’s like shooting
a cow with a high powered rifle at point blank range.”

Astronomers fear that unless the barrage of parodies ebbs soon, the point of
no return for the sun’s gravity may be at hand. Unfortunately for all humanity
and the known universe, the spoofs just keep coming, including Broke ‘Mac’
Mountain, Broke Back to the Future, Brokeback ‘
Mount Doom‘, Brokeass Mountain, Point Break-back Mountain, Bush-back Mountain, Top Gun: Brokeback Squadron, Brokeback Fiction, Broke-Space Mountain, Bareback Mountain, Toke-Back Mountain, Broke Jack Palance, Broke-Cat Mountain, Star Wars: The Empire Brokeback…  


GREENSBORO – Antique Roadshow appraiser Harry Steenbern received a special
treat at last Wednesday’s filming of the popular series when after realizing an
artifact was authentic he immediately shot a load in his pants.

Steenbern took one look at the 1925 Harriet Frishmuth
sculpture and instantly got a huge stiffy. When he deduced the name of the item
was “Crest of the Wave”, the intensity of his ecstasy heightened. “At the
moment that I discovered the Gorham foundry mark, I couldn’t hold back any
longer. I lost all control and let loose.”

Although nobody was harmed in the incident, several
bystanders lodged complaints with producers of the show, claiming Steenbern
displayed disregard for decency since there were children present. When Steenbern
lost control of his man-chowder, he dropped Frishmuth sculpture onto an oil
painting by Ralph Hedley previously appraised by him at nearly $40,000 and bumped uncontrollably into a Black
suffragette clockwork toy valued by him at nearly $8,000. 

Chelsea Farnsworth, owner of the sculpture, weighed in. “I was
really excited myself when I discovered the sculpture was valuable, but I
certainly wasn’t prepared for the appraiser when he blew his goo.”

Feldman, a local candy store clerk was not sure if he had scored a threesome
yesterday after making out with siamese twins he met at a circus sideshow
connected to a traveling carnival in the local JC Penney parking lot.

“It was cool man,” said a stoned Feldman. “I had just
scarfed down some righteous cotton candy, and these two gorgeous chicks came up
to me and started talking. I just thought it was an illusion like the funhouse
mirrors down the path, you know?”

Bernice and Jessica. Both 26, are considered Omphalopagus
twins conjoined at the lower chest. They have travelled with the Farnum &
Spitz Circus Side Show Spectacular for almost 9 years.

Bernice refused to
comment, but Jessica admitted it might have been a mistake. “He looked kind of
cute, but it was really dark behind the Ferris Wheel. Bernie’s such a slut, I
don’t know why I let her drag me into these awkward situations.”

Feldman still hasn’t decided if it was ‘officially’ a
threesome. Supporting evidence includes the twins’ two heads and separate heart
regions. Nonbearing evidence includes the fact that the twins share several
limbs and a digestive system.

This was not the only quagmire that Feldman found himself in.
Other similar imponderable dilemmas from the same night included how much pot he
could actually smoke without impairing his judgment, and whether or not making
out with the bearded lady made him gay.

A recent poll indicates that ‘unnamed’ Democrats would beat
incumbent Republicans in the 2006 Congressional races, but Democratic
leadership has yet to find any candidates without names. Chairman of the DNC
Howard Dean is scrambling to find unnamed Democrats. “The problem is, once we
find candidates, it never fails that they have a name.”

Polls show that Americans believe Republicans are so inept
right now, they’d vote for Democrats so long as nobody tells them who that
Democrat actually is. This difficulty seems to be that once the Democrat is
actually named, the polls dip and the Republican regains the lead.


Dean is considering a technique where throughout the
campaign the Democratic candidate wears a bag on their had, much like the
Unnamed Comic did in the 70’s. “That way, we can be sure that since the public
doesn’t know their name, they’ll vote for him. Uh, her. It.” Dean hasn’t ruled out finding
an unnamed Democratic candidate or two before the 2006 election. “If you’re a Democrat without a name, please contact us immediately. We guarantee you’ll win!”

by Cashier at the Food Mart – Gawd I hate you so much. Of all the retards in the world,
why’d you have to come into the Food Mart right as I was about to finish my
shift? You take freakin’ forever to decide what you wanted, going through all
the aisles like a bloated, drunken manatee. You examine each Malomar and Mamba
like they’re nuclear bombs you’re trying to defuse.

Then you leave the refrigerator door open as you read the
minute details on what seems like each and every energy drink back there. Do
you really need to memorize the percentage of B12, Riboflavin and acorbic acid
in Diet Rock Star? Think there’s going to be a pop quiz on that later, dumbass?
I mean, really- get a life.

To make matters worse, you see the nachos and your eyes
light up like Christmas in Vegas. You slather them with what must’ve been like
15 pounds of chili. And when you go for the cheese, that really sealed the
deal. So what if it spurts and barely trickles out? You make me change it? It’s
the end of the night you buttmunch, of course it’s gonna be empty. I want to go

Do you know how much work it is to go into the back, rummage
through storage to find a dumb bag of cheese, dump it into the cheese machine,
then wait for it to heat so you can pour it onto your stupid nachos that you’ll
probably just shovel into your mouth like some sickening starving Sumo
wrestler? Well, it’s a lot of work, just so you know.

And the freakin’ kicker? The topper to end all toppers? Your
total is $1.37. My drawer could have been perfect. I’m down to just a few
pieces of change, and all my coin rolls are still pristine and intact. You plop
down 2 one dollar bills.

YOU ASSHOLE! Now, since I have no dimes left, one quarter
and two pennies, I have to open the whole goddamn gammit of coin rolls, just so
you can have your precious sloppy ass nachos that are gonna go right to your
thighs anyways.

Do you have any idea how unbelievably annoying and obnoxious
it is to have to count all those dumb coins? After an entire night of finagling
and number crunching to make sure I didn’t have to open the rolls. It’s a
muthafuckin’ pain to count all those goddamned coins! 

I’ve been jonesin’ for a cigarette break for hours, and just
as I thought I was gonna be able to finally sneak away and light up a refreshing
Newport, you have to come and take forever, and then make me break my coin
rolls open just so you can slurp up some nasty nacho sauce. Now it’ll take me
forever to count those coins one by one before I bank out and go home tonight.
Gawd, I hate you so, so much.

Scientists have invented a new contraceptive similar to the Morning After
Pill called The Afternoon Before Pill. “The Afternoon Before Pill works just
like the Morning After Pill by preventing ovaries from releasing an egg,” says
the head scientist, Dr. Morgan Fillmein.


“The only difference is women take it shortly before they go
on a date. I mean, come on. Women already know when they’re going to put out.
They’re in complete control of the world’s supply of poon-tang. Whether or not they’re getting the hot beef injection isn’t a mystery to them, only to their date. Just
take the goddamn pill before the date already. Or don’t. Just stop leading me on all night!.”

Dr. Fillmein admits the
chemical structure of the morning after and the afternoon before pill are identical.
“So fucking what? I just need to get laid!”

CHESAPEKE – A distraught Jason Girard stomped out of the Pantaloon
Theatre on Sunday, up in arms over not receiving a call-back for the lead role
in the theatre company’s upcoming production of Shakespeare’s Othello.

viewed this yet another in a long line of casting snubs. “All the great actors
played Othello at one time or another,” fumed Girard. “When Olivier did it, nobody
blinked. It’s the director, man. What, she thinks I can’t play a black man?.”

The plum role of Othello instead went to Leroy Stanton, an African American
man who graduated from Juilliard Acting School before moving to Chesapeke. Leroy displayed excitement at the
opportunity. “This is one of the few major roles in the classics where the
character is actually black. I’m looking forward to sinking my teeth into the Bard’s wonderful material.”

This isn’t the first time Girard felt his talent was overlooked
in the casting of Pantaloon’s productions. Last season he was annoyed at being
overlooked for Evita despite showing up at the audition in a blond wig and
push-up bra, and he was livid that he wasn’t even considered for the lead in Annie
even though he vowed to “lose the weight”.

(picture courtesy of World of Stock)