National Nitwit

A Note to Readers

2009-06-02T12:40:00.000-07:00

Subcommandante Bob has been quite busy the last few months, in large measure due to some outstanding bench warrants and an aggravating, extended case of ennui. As a result, he has not updated the sites in quite a while, and it may be a few weeks before he gets the motivation to post new material.

However, know this: Bob loves you, especially when you buy the first and subsequent rounds. Also, he'll get around to being creative real soon. Promise.

I Will Cherish This Inauguration Day Porta-Potty Turd Forever

2009-01-20T15:57:00.000-08:00

A National Nitwit Inauguration Exclusive
By Evan Banister, D.C. hipster

Change Has Come…to Banister’s Bowels

Years from now, long after America has recovered from this economic tailspin, and our standing around the world returns to its hallowed status, and I’m all old n’ stuff having forgotten the sweet glory of a blowjob, I will turn to my grandchildren and say, from whatever side of my mouth the stroke leaves working, “I shat on the National Mall the day Barack Obama took his oath of office.”

Now I know some folks find the Porta-Potty to be a disgusting cesspool of filth and disease, but let me tell you: after fifteen Miller Lites and three of those bad-ass Vegan enchiladas Susan packed in the cooler, I had no qualms about spreading my cheeks on the same seat as my fellow countrymen, regardless of whether or not they had crotch crickets.

Today was about hope. Today was about change. Today my catastrophic whale-bellow farts reverberated off those thin plastic walls while Aretha Franklin’s soulful voice crooned over this nation’s fair capitol.

So when I tell my grandchildren, through bouts of drool and hacking, that I pooped a mere five hundred yards from America’s greatest president on the day he set a straighter course, they will gently pat my ass with wonder.

And then promptly change my Depends.

Crackhead Recalls Flight 1549 Horror

2009-01-16T12:50:00.001-08:00

Left: Accident witness "Tweaky"

(New York, NY) Local crack cocaine afficianado "Tweaky" Williams, recuperating from what he described as "trauma and shit," described for reporters his "close call with death and shit" in the wake of the US Airways Flight 1549 accident in the Hudson River yesterday.

"I just finished sparking up this dime rock I scored after selling some plasma when I saw the plane fly overhead," the former Toledo, OH native recalled, visibly shaken at his experience. "The next thing I knew, it got obscured by a bunch of buildings, and I filled up my stem for another bodayshus hit."

Tweaky said that after exhausting his supply of crack cocaine, his buzz was interrupted by the sound of screaming sirens.

"I gotta admit - I was paranoid as shit," he told reporters, scratching his left arm and looking agitated. "I thought the police was after my ass, but I deduced straight up that they was heading for the [Hudson] river. Close call, my friends, close call."

The magnitude of the accident "totally hit home" when Tweaky passed a Broadway appliance store several hours later.

"I looked in the display window, and there it all was: plane, freezing waters, people being pulled into boats," he said, jerking his head toward unseen persons behind him. "I thought to myself: 'Shit, Tweaky, that coulda been you, if you had a job and were flying someplace or shit.' I mean, life comes at you fast, right? Listen - my car broke down, and I need some money so I can drive to Jersey and visit my kid for his birthday, but I spent my last $20 on medicine for my other kid. Any of you reporters got ten bucks to help old Tweaky out?"

Jilted Pedophile "Hurt" After Being Dumped for Younger Man

2009-01-09T19:39:00.000-08:00

(Terre Haute, IN) Craig Baxter believed that he and his junior high sweetheart had "the perfect relationship." That, at least, was until ex-girlfriend Kylee Andersson delivered him a breakup letter last week, sealed with a heart-shaped Bratz Passion sticker.

"We shared everything together - long AIM chats, telephone calls in the middle of the night, going shopping at the mall while I pretended to be 'Daddy' to keep the security guards from getting freaked," the 55-year-old accountant said. "But I guess when Kylee's profile said that she was a 'mature' 12-year-old, she was just stringing me along. And her whole 'Best Friends Forever' bullshit? Lies, just lies."

Baxter met Kylee in a room at TeenChatPlanet.com, and he said the two "hit it off right away."

"We shared a lot of the same interests: hanging out with our teen friends, keeping special secrets, and dreaming of finding that one true love," he reminisced, wiping away a small tear. "That, and freaky motel sex. Or so I thought, because the next thing I know she's hooked up with some 25-year-old skateboarding asshole who delivers pizzas. PIZZAS! I mean - what is she thinking? What kind of security is there in that?"

Visits to the mall will never be the same for the forlorn Baxter

Most importantly, said Baxter, he is going to be "much more careful" in the future as he assesses his love interests.

"Honestly, my roller-coaster ride with Kylee has taken more out of me than any of the other young girls I've dated," he admitted, pausing to clean his glasses, which fogged up at the painful memories. "I'm not just going to put my soul out there like that for every Missy or Jamie who comes along, and you can bet I'm going to have to think twice if Kylee calls, begging me to take her back. A guy can only give so much or his heart, you know, before it breaks forever."

It’s Another Lonely New Year’s Jerkin’ Off to Natalie Portman

2009-01-01T17:30:00.000-08:00

A National Nitwit Guest Editorial
By Biff Saidoff, Brooklyn-area Cab Driver

Saidoff: Lubed and Ready

How ya doin’. Seems like every fuckin’ year goes by faster than a purse snatcher—I drive my shifts, watch the Yanks shit their fuckin’ diapers, and BOOM—I’m another year balder with this fuckin’ gout.

And what with the ex-wife in Chicago, and not a date in nine months, yada yada, it’s gonna be another lonely New Year’s jerking off to Natalie Portman.

You probably know Natalie Portman from all her fuckin’ flicks—The Professional, that shitty new Star Wars trilogy, V for Vendetta—the list is longer than a fuckin’ horse dong. I’m not really a movie buff myself, but this will be the fourth year runnin’ that I crack out the Jergens and Puffs Plus.

Portman: Like a Friggin’ Jalapeno

It’s hard to describe the fuckin’ uncontrollable hotness of this broad. She’s half Jew, has tits perkier than a coked-up terrier, and hardly brushes her friggin’ hair. I can’t go two minutes in one of her movies without thinkin’ about goin’ balls fuckin’ deep on that tiny little bod she gots.

So if you’re out there Natalie, and you happen to read this, I know my fuckin’ mug is uglier than a sewer grate, but I’d give you the ride of your fuckin’ life.

And it would sure beat milkin’ my cannoli another year, that’s for sure.

St. Peter “Totally Out of Ideas” For Christ’s Birthday

2008-12-20T17:58:00.000-08:00

A National Nitwit Holiday Exclusive
By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

St. Peter: Help a Brotha Out, Parishioners!

St. Peter, the bedrock of the Christian church and perennial guardian of heaven’s pearly gates, admitted earlier this morning he was “absolutely 100% out of ideas” for Jesus’ 2008th birthday, and was desperate for suggestions from loyal believers.

“I had hoped to stage a full concert with the Jimi Hendrix Experience now that they’re all finally dead,” explained an exasperated Peter between puffs from an unfiltered Camel. “But Mary pounced on that shit as soon as Mitch Mitchell died last month. I mean, she met his ass at the door, drum sticks in-hand. That was the last ace up my tunic.”

Over the course of two millennia, St. Peter has surprised the risen Lord with all manner of wondrous gifts—from the coronation of Charlemagne in 800 to St. Francis of Assisi’s inspired construction of the first manger scene in 1223—but claims “this year I’m simply running on empty.”

“I’m announcing an open call for ideas—heck, you don’t even need to be a Christian,” Peter huffed as he crushed his Camel butt beneath the sole of his sandal. “Muslim, Hindu, Taoist. I don’t care. If you have any ideas whatsoever, or can get Bob Dylan back in the studio to cut another gospel album, or you happen to be a wide receiver for the Jets and can help Favre win one last Super Bowl, send your prayers to: Peter, P.O. Box 1, Keys to the Kingdom Ave., Heaven. I don’t mean to brag, but I can make it worth your while.”

Mommy, We Are So Very Cold!

2008-12-05T18:21:00.000-08:00

Guest editorial by your frozen fertilized eggs

We were so happy when you harvested us and we got fertilized by Daddy's sperm way back in 1996, Mommy! We knew how much you and Daddy tried and tried and tried to have a baby, but your yucky old uterus just wouldn't let a baby conceive.

And how excited we were when the twins Josh and Jason were born in 2002, and we just knew that our turn would come soon.

But Mommy: it's so very cold here in this cryogenic freezer!

We know you are busy with your new job, and the twins are now off to school and everything, so you probably want to have some freedom again. But Mommy: the other six of us have been waiting a looooong time for you to come and visit us, and we are dying to know which one of us will be your Next Baby.

I'm secretly hoping it's me, since my zona pellucida is frozen solid. But no matter who gets to be Mommy's Next Baby, we know you're coming back for us, right?

Right?

Oh, and if you and Daddy have decided to forgo having another baby without telling us, then I hope you fucking die, you cold-hearted bitch. We've just been sitting in this liquid nitrogen chamber for, oh, A FUCKING DECADE, you know, and the closer we get to absolute zero, the harder it is to have a little hope for the future.

I'm sorry, Mommy, for being naughty and all. It must be the cold. Did I mention how FUCKING COLD IT IS IN HERE?

Whoops - guess Little Missy has a potty mouth. I'll bet you can't wait to thaw me, carry me to term, and Spank My Bare Bottom for being so bad.

Babe, I'm Absolutely Sure "JYQZUX" is a Legitimate Scrabble Word

2008-11-29T14:26:00.001-08:00

Guest editorial by Craig Phelps,
Dedicated Scrabble Player

Look, Babe: I've been playing Scrabble almost all my life, and I I know a thing or six about how the game is played. Heck, I bet I could recite the official Scrabble rule-book by heart, if need be.

And I'm absolutely sure "JYQZUX" is a legitimate Scrabble word.

When I last used jyqzux, I was playing my Dad and he challenged me on it. "Jyqzux" is of Arabic origin, and it refers to a land tax on goat farmers or some shit. Now, I know foreign words aren't normally used, but jyqzux started entering the English lexicon about 100 years ago, and even folks in places like Wyoming and Alabama use jyqzux to describe their tax dealios.

What? You don't believe me? Well, if that doesn't beat all - I'm a certified public accountant, for Chrissakes. I'd no more cheat at Scrabble than I'd set a nun on fire, that's for damned sure.

And just because the Z is on a triple-letter score, and I managed to connect the word to a triple-word score doesn't mean a thing. I play this game for the fun, not to win.

And if you don't like jyqzux, you may as well say you hate America, for what it's worth, because I'm pretty sure that al Qaeda would even allow jyqzux.

African Tribe Relishes Worthless Church Donations

2008-11-20T13:42:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Qwembe’s Tribe: Grateful for the Catholic Trash

(Nairobi, Kenya)—Like many children of his tribe, Masif Qwembe, 12, has little to look forward to in his daily routine: his parents are unemployed, his school is woefully impoverished, and often he sleeps with an empty belly, huddled for warmth beside his three sisters on a small grass mat.

All of this changed earlier this month, however, when the Catholic Church’s Archdiocese of Baltimore donated several boxes of outdated textbooks, broken toys, and other assorted items deemed “too crummy for a parish yard sale.”

“What a blessing from the Lord that the American Catholics have sent such kindnesses,” Qwembe explained through an interpreter. “Never in my life have I seen a 1974 Chevy Nova, but I now know how to repair its transmission thanks to this glossy-covered manual.”

Other children of Qwembe’s tribe radiated his sense of appreciation for the hodgepodge rubbish.

“I plan to line the walls of my hut with these McGraw-Hill world maps from 1956,” explained a euphoric Franny Kuboa, 9, who sprinted from a neighboring township to get her share of the goodies. “Not only will I learn the names of former Soviet satellite nations that no longer exist, I can also block the cruel night wind from my dying grandmother’s bones.”

For some members of the tribe, however, the jubilation was simply beyond words.

“I tell you, not for three years have I wiped my ass with anything other than these two hands,” beamed Johnny Ngunu, 37, a local farmer. “But now, after reading each page of this amazing book called Get to Know Your 1983 World Champion Baltimore Orioles, I can wipe like your great American warrior Cal Ripken, Jr.!”

McCain to Nation: “I Didn’t Want the Job Anyway”

2008-11-16T17:15:00.000-08:00

A National Nitwit Post-Election Report

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

McCain: Frankly, He Didn’t Even Vote for Himself

(Phoenix, AZ)—After a week of seclusion and reflection following his landslide loss to Barack Obama in the 2008 presidential election, John McCain made his first major post-election appearance earlier this morning at a press conference in downtown Phoenix.

With his trademark smirk and thinning white comb-over, McCain gruffly announced that he “didn’t want the job anyway,” and was glad that he could return to his dozen homes scattered across the country to relish his minimal obligations as a senator.

“Being president pretty much sucks, my friends, and boy am I glad not to be picking out new drapes for the Oval Office right now,” McCain intoned before an audience primarily comprised of student reporters for area high school newspapers. “I mean, I can’t even raise my arms higher than my chest—can you imagine me trying to hang drapes? What a joke! I much rather stay home and watch a John Wayne marathon on AMC.”

McCain finally reverted to his ‘straight talk’ demeanor following several months of negative campaigning, and divulged many secrets that appeared long bothersome to the aging senator.

“My friends, I really had no plan whatsoever for the economy,” McCain reflected. “As far as the war in Iraq is concerned, it’s such a clusterfuck that even Jesus Christ and a horde of samurai angels couldn’t bring peace to the Middle East. And in regards to healthcare, I’m glad to finally admit I truly hate babies, and parents, and seniors, what with all their prescription pills and whining. So it’s a good thing I’m not president after all—I like my job as a Senate war hero guy.”

Hollister Dude Bravely Endures Cancer Caused by Store Fragrance

2008-11-01T05:17:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Pulcher: Fighting Cancer Dockside in His $150 Pre-torn Jeans

(Annapolis, MD)—Annapolis is one of America’s last vestiges of colonial architecture whose burgeoning middle class remains stoic and fashion-conscious despite our nation’s economic tail-spin.

And on any given day, you can Frank Pulcher there at Annapolis’s lone Hollister retailer in the downtown mall, bravely folding hoodies and battling the rampant lung cancer caused by his employer’s ridiculously overpowering store fragrance.

“You know, a lot of folks in my family say I should sue this place—after all, you can smell the bitter perfume all the way down at KB Toys around the corner,” Pulcher explained in between fits of painful coughing. “But I believe too much in this brand to let a simple thing like upper respiratory failure get my way.”

Pulcher continued to express his passion for helping customers locate the perfect cork sandals, polo shirts, and corduroy slacks, which he noted “were total must-haves for any gentleman during this fall season.”

“Getting cancer really has a way of changing your outlook on life,” Pulcher reflected as he popped the collars on a row of heavily wrinkled Oxford button-downs. “Sure, I could quit and get chemo or whatever, but what happens when some college bro needs a new half-zip fleece for an Octoberfest BBQ, and only has $179 to spend? There’s only one sales associate in this store up for that challenge: me. So maybe I’ll die tomorrow, or maybe I’ll die next year, but with God as my witness, I’ll continue to help dress this great city, one douche bag at a time.”

The Undecided Voter: America’s Mighty Dumbass

2008-10-17T18:54:00.000-07:00

An Exclusive National Nitwit Election Investigation

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Enie, Meenie, Miny, Moe…

(Washington, D.C.) With only two short weeks until Election Day, Americans from every part of the political spectrum are anxiously awaiting the appointed hour when they can hit the polls and have their voice be heard.

That is with the exception of undecided voters, who, after one of the longest and most divisive presidential contests in U.S. history, still have no fucking clue which candidate suits them best.

“I just…you know…this is just like…really hard,” explained Sara Baxter, 32, a junior bank executive and mother of two in the D.C. suburbs. “I mean, the economy is really important, and Obama has a plan to fix it, but McCain has a plan, too. And so…you can see the pickle I’m in, right?”

And while many news agencies have done their best to educate the lowest common denominator in our democracy, dedicating endless hours of airtime to round-table discussions with undecided voters in crucial swing states such as Ohio, Michigan, Virginia, and Pennsylvania, many political scientists are growing weary of this excessive pandering.

“How does any adult with an I.Q. over twelve not know where they stand on the war, education, healthcare, and the best way to fix our tanking economy,” bemoaned Dr. Steven Kiplinger, Assistant Professor of Political Science at George Mason University. “I mean, I much rather someone strongly disagree with my personal views and pull the lever for the other guy than whine like a little bitch right up to the eleventh hour. When did Obama and McCain announce their candidacies? 2006, was it? Have these fucking soccer moms and college freshmen been living under one big rock for the past 18 months? Now I’ve gone and got all worked up again—excuse me while I fetch my friend Johnny Walker. He always calms me down.”

McCain to Nation: “I Hate My Own Party”

2008-10-15T13:43:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

The Lagging Senator: Genius or Schizophrenic?

(Washington, D.C.)—With polls across American showing Republican presidential nominee John McCain slipping drastically behind his opponent Barack Obama—in large part to the steady decline of the U.S. economy—the veteran senator unveiled a risky speech earlier this morning in a last-ditch effort to woo independent voters: he vented his loathing for his own Republican Party.

“My friends, you’ve called me a maverick for years, and with three weeks left in this election, let me don that mantle once again,” McCain intoned at a rally in central Michigan. “Not only do I disagree with the policies of the Bush Administration, and the hardcore cronyism of Washington, but I now vow, before the American people I so deeply love, that I disown the very Republican Party I represent. As the next Republican president of the United States, I promise to fix the economic wreckage of these Republicans.”

While many undecided voters met this announcement with mixed reactions, it is clear McCain’s once-narrow deficit has grown into a chasm, particularly in battleground states such as Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Colorado. This move is seen by many as a final attempt to convince independents that McCain is capable of generating the sweeping reforms so desperately needed in the Oval Office.

“My friends, only by putting a Republican in the White House can we undo the damage done by Republicans,” McCain boomed. “After all, who is best suited to cleanse us of the broken politics of the past than a man who was a principal backer of the broken politics of the past? You people realize Obama is black, right?”

Congress Proposes Car Wash Initiative to Salvage Economy

2008-10-07T17:06:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Congress: Washing the Grime of Debt Away

(Washington, D.C.)—After a week of intense negotiations and failed bi-partisan dealings, Congress seems to have struck upon an ingenious and comprehensive solution to our nation’s substantial economic woes: they plan to hold a car wash on the steps of the Capitol.

“This is the sort of innovative thinking that has been missing from government for years, and frankly, it’s about time us elected officials rolled up our sleeves,” explained Congressman Barney Franks (D-MA) while filling a bucket of suds in the men’s room. “In a few short hours, the legislators of this great nation will roll up their sleeves, dunk their sponges, and scrub our way out of this paramount crisis. That is, of course, with the exception of Nancy Pelosi—her only job is to wear a bikini and occasionally squeal when I squirt her with the hose.”

While such an endeavor seems an impossibly naïve solution to combat billions of dollars in “toxic debt” and restore international faith in the American banking establishment, most officials remain doggedly optimistic about this plan’s potential success.

“You know, my daughter’s marching band raised $573 last summer for new tubas through a car wash,” boasted Senator Norm Coleman (R-MN). “So if we request a modest donation of $10 million per driver, we should be in the black by Halloween. Besides, the alternatives are just dismal— President Bush’s bailout would be an utter failure, and John Kerry’s bake sale idea was just plain stupid. Man, I hate those Yale bastards.”

What Are YOU Looking At, Jerkoff?

2008-09-15T05:41:00.000-07:00

A Guest Editorial
by a Yellowjacket

Honestly? Being a yellowjacket is better than being President of the United-fucking-States, that's what I think. You see, yellowjackets aren't like anybody else. We do whatever we want.

We buzz around a trash can, and nobody calls the cops. We fly into your kid's Pepsi, and what are you gonna do? It's OURS now, you little wise-ass. Go find another Pepsi.

Being a yellowjacket means people look at me differently, and they knew I'm with somebody. SomeBODIES, that is, and we will make your life miserable just for the hell of it. I don't have to wait in line at the bakery on Sunday morning for fresh bread - I fly right the fuck in and grab a bite.

What are YOU gonna do about it? BUZZ!

If we want something, we just take it. If anyone complains, they get stung so bad they never complain again. It's all just routine - you don't even think about it.

Little kid in the park sees me, tells his Mom that I'm "funny." What do you mean I'm "funny", I says? BUZZ! BUZZ!!

I buzz and sting the little fucker on the forehead. Does that look "funny" to you, you little prick? You mean, let me understand this cause, you know maybe it's me, I'm a little fucked up maybe, but I'm exactly "funny" how? I mean "funny" like I'm a clown, I fucking amuse you? Like I make you laugh, like I'm here to fucking amuse you? Just what do you mean funny, funny how? Exactly how am I funny?

Three more stings just for good measure. STING! STING! STING!

And when it's nest-building time, we gotta do some heavy work. So what? Who the fuck cares? I'll dig the fucking hole. I don't give a fuck. What is it, the first hole I ever dug? Not the first time I dug a hole. I'll fucking dig a hole. Where are the shovels? BUZZ! BUZZ!

I'm a yellowjacket, and you'd be well advised to go fuck yourself, for all I care.

Go Fuck Yourself, Nate Burleson

2008-09-12T07:36:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Fantasy Football Editorial
By Jimmy Kurtz

Burleson: Went and Injured Himself Like a Dumbass

As a long-time fantasy football player, I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve. Stay away from flashy thugs, know what young quarterback is on the verge of a breakout season, and never pick a kicker until the final rounds.

This year was going to be a good one, too, as I was able to snag Seattle Seahawks wide receiver Nate Burleson as my top wide out, what with those great hands of his and his insatiable appetite for touchdowns. Well, it seems ol’ Nate decided to go and tear the ACL in his left knee, ending his entire season before it even began.

So go fuck yourself, Nate Burleson, and the horse you rode in on.

Don’t you know that thousands of fantasy players are depending on you? What kind of shitty off-season regimen did you undertake? Did you waste the whole summer eating Fritos and getting blown by Seattle whores all decked out in flannel and stoned on coke?

Hating Burleson Is a Family Affair for Kurtz

Thanks a lot for nothing, shitbag. I hope you get fucked by a giant cock made of razor wire. I pray you get fucked by a gorilla stinking of wild berries and jungle moss. I implore the heavens to send a horde of horny angels from some angel jail to fuck your dumb non-football playing ass with dick-shaped harps that play Bach while you sob and thrash.

And after all that’s over, let me know what free agent I should sign, will ya? ‘Cause my fantasy team is looking pretty rough.

Sarah Palin to Shoot Penthouse Spread

2008-09-05T07:58:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Palin: Hiding Some Double Ds Under Those Pant Suits?

(Washington, D.C.)—Republican Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Palin announced earlier this morning that she plans to shoot a no-holds-barred spread for Penthouse magazine as a means to “truly reveal” herself to American voters.

Palin, who has faced great skepticism from Republicans and Democrats alike for her lack of political experience, asserted that this risqué decision would assuage any doubts about her capacity as a leader.

“This past week on the campaign trail has been a grueling one, my fellow Americans,” Palin boomed during a packed news conference. “I have faced many intimate questions about my family, my womanhood, and my experiences as the governor of Alaska, one of the least populated states in this great nation of ours. That is why I have decided to literally unzip for this election, and show America who I really am—tits, vajayjay, and all.”

This provocative announcement was met with ecstatic praise, particularly among Palin’s hardcore conservative base.

“After eight years of Dick Cheney, this woman is like the Virgin Mary, but a sluttier, Tina Fey version of the Virgin Mary,” explained a jubilant Evan Howe, a chief strategist for the McCain campaign. “When voters see her toned abs, tastefully trimmed hoo-hah, and scrumptious breasts bursting from a maid uniform in the pages of Penthouse magazine, they’ll arrive at the only logical conclusion: Barack Obama is a terrorist and a clear threat to our national security.”

A Note to Readers

2008-09-03T12:33:00.000-07:00

By Subcomandante Bob

Bob has been busy of late, and has not gotten around to answering emails, updating the site, or even caring about much of anything. He'd like to be able to say it's because he's been busy with a revolution - or even chasing a really hot school nurse - but he's pretty much been lying on the beach and drinking himself into a daily stupor.

Thus, he may or may not get the groove and start writing today. It might also take him another two weeks of being a soused schlomo to finish this binge. We just don't know.

And Billy Pilgrim? Meh. He has his own substance abuse issues, plus the band said it wanted him back, and then there's his unfinished novel and the lawyers he's avoiding.... you get the picture.

But rest assured: at some point in the future Bob will be back. Oh yes, he will be back. And when he does, along with Rogue Editor Billy Pilgrim, the Internet will become an even filthier place.

Oh Kerri Walsh, Gobble My Sausage

2008-08-25T14:39:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Literary Supplement
By Michael Crittenden, Poet & Spoken Word Artist

Crittenden: The Keats of Oral Sex

Kerri, you omnipotent Olympic goddess, no one shall ever unravel the tapestry of your splendor. Winning back to back gold medals in the grueling sand of beach volleyball will cement your gubernatorial chrysanthemum majesty in the history books forevermore.

Kerri Walsh: Athlete, Olympic Victor, Muse for Rubbish

But alas, I cannot lid the Tupperware of my desire, so in the annals of this respected publication, let me ejaculate my burning rag affections for thee:

Oh Kerri Walsh, gobble my sausage

Oh Kerri Walsh, gobble my sausage
softly, its tender veins
a’throbbing, bend your blonde
awesomeness of locks & lips
dripping with the sweet magnitude
of our turkey-and-swiss union.
Ah, we melt! A melt
of sweat & need, two bodies
in the quiver of benefaction.
The glory of your mouth,
the glory of your throat’s
gag & gag & gag, bliss
spooling from my soul
in streams of white enunciation.
My love I shall bestow
a toothbrush & cup for rinsing
so I may feel your tongue on mine
once you’ve cleaned it.

I’d Make a Great Eccentric Millionaire

2008-08-20T17:38:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Guest Editorial
By Mack Holmes, Toledo Sanitation Worker

Holmes: Dreaming of Riches, Stinking of Refuse

You ever see those cable shows where they tour extravagant mansions of the zany rich, what with their gold plated showers, flat screen TVs in their closets, and entire rooms for their cats? Let me tell ya, bub: I’d make a great eccentric millionaire.

All I need to do is invent some ridiculous product like an electric corkscrew and I’d be on easy street. But I wouldn’t just be your regular breed of millionaire. No sir. I’d wear flip-flops all year long, throw my underwear out after one use, and pay for my groceries in Susan B. Anthony dollars.

And speaking of buying shit: look out, Jack. I’d adopt an iguana and name him Charlie Buttfucker so the neighborhood kids could run around saying “let me pet that buttfucker!” I’d also install a urinal in my bedroom so I don’t have to trip over Maggie’s goddamn heels every time I need to piss at 3 a.m. And you know those little robotic vacuums? I’d have fifteen, so when I got bored I could walk around the house all day crumbling saltines.

Then they could put me on one of them crib shows. All of America could see my three hundred pairs of plaid slacks, my collection of stegosaurus fossils, my bronze cast of Angelina Jolie’s boobs, and my frozen blood samples from every Cleveland Brown dating back to 1994.

Partner, I’d make a great eccentric millionaire. Just don’t tell anybody about that electric corkscrew—my patent’s pending.

Nation’s Fathers Endure Peril of Beach Erections

2008-08-12T22:13:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Investigative Report

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

While families across America relish their summer vacations, luxuriating on the shores of their favorite beaches, an age-old peril has gripped fathers of all ages: it is once again the season of the uncontrollable ‘beach boner.’

Another Hapless Father Chanting “Think Unsexy Thoughts” Among the Bikini Crowd

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife Linda, but we’ve been married for eight years now so we screw about once per pay period,” explained Evan Richards, a 29 year old computer programmer vacationing in North Carolina’s graceful Outer Banks. “Since we’re renting a beach house, I’ve had these super-shitty shower whacks ‘cause my porn collection is stashed back home. Long story short, I haven’t busted a decent nut in weeks, so when we hit the sand, what with all the college girls in bikinis, I turn into Johnny Hardcock.”

Other fathers on our nation’s beaches painfully reiterated Richards’ sentiments.

“My wife and I just had our third child in June, so she’s still in that delicate recovery period,” expressed Will Adams, a 41 year old math teacher from Michigan vacationing in southern Florida. “Which is totally cool—I’m not one to rush nature’s progress—but damn if these twin high school girls didn’t spend two hours making a sand castle right next to our blanket yesterday. What are these girls eating that they have massive jugs like that at 17? I spent the whole afternoon with a Tom Clancy novel and beach towel covering up my trouser salami.”

So with most married men too honest to violate their vows of monogamy, and the Mandatory Blowjob Bill currently stalling on the floor of Congress, it seems most men must simply endure the unquenchable fire in their loins.

“I think the trick is to learn to live without sex,” intoned James Lawrence, 55, a retired carpenter from Connecticut vacationing on the Delaware shore. “Last year I developed erectile dysfunction as a result of my diabetes, and it’s been a godsend. I can wear my dark shades, ogle all the young ass I want, and there’s no more fear of reprisal. Pathetic? Sure—I have to take a pill to please my wife when she gets in the mood every few months, for Christ’s sake. But at least I can surf fish without pitching a tent.”

Russian Rapper 50 Kopeck Struggling for Street Cred

2008-07-28T19:36:00.000-07:00

(Moscow) Despite a tough life on the mean streets of this Russian capital, local rapper Sergei Vanka (aka 50 Kopeck) has not been able to get the attention of record producers.

"Is simple - record men think Sergei not real gangsta," complained Vanka to National Nitwit reporters. "Some day Vanka will be busting caps on asses of producers, for certain that is, my nigga."

Vanka decried what he described as a "big time love interest" of producers with American rappers, especially young black hip-hop artists.

"Just because Sergei have white skin, they treat him like skinny woman who give sexual congress without fee," he noted, kicking a rolling soccer ball back to nearby Russian children. "But I say this: Sergei Vanka be baddest rapper in your regular domicile, for certain that is!"

His setbacks, however, have not diminished Vanka's desire to "record famous rapping songs for consumers."

"Straight up in the air: Sergei Vanka will circumnavigate your planet, you neighborhood peoples!" he promised. "And then no one say any more that Sergei is old educational facility rapper, for certain that is!"

Planet’s Last X-Files Fan Says Film “Made Just For Me”

2008-07-22T13:22:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Wochawski, Seen Here with Teddy Bear “Mulder”

(Washington, D.C.)—Since the X-Files craze of the mid-1990s peaked and receded, science fiction dorks have enjoyed a bevy of newer, yet equally lame fads: Battlestar Galactica, a trilogy of disheartening Star Wars prequels, and Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles.

But Sam Wochawski has kept the faith, and as the self-proclaimed “last die-hard X-Files maniac” on earth, he feels this new film was made solely for his viewing pleasure.

“It’s been a tough few years, I can tell you that much,” Wochawski explained while touring his spare bedroom rife with quirky X-Files action figures and lunch boxes. “One time I got the shit kicked out of me in a local laundromat for wearing my “Scully’s Fire Crotch” t-shirt. I tried to explain it was the name of a punk band, but those ladies were fucking vicious—I lost two teeth. Plus, the comments on my MySpace page have gotten so vicious that I’ve considered going into therapy.”

All this has changed, however, since the second big-screen incarnation of the X-Files has given Wochawski’s dismal fandom renewed validity.

“Let’s see those middle school kids egg my Caprice now that every theater in America is rocking the ‘Files,” Wochawski boasted. Sure, I was a little disappointed that the only other attendee on opening night was a nun—and come to think of it, she looked kinda drunk—but I was there, boy, relishing every second of it as the last true keeper of the flame. That was a religious metaphor, by the way.”

Most American Teens Think Obama Is Already President

2008-07-10T09:03:00.001-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Obama: Did He Give the State of the Union Address Already?

(Washington, D.C.)—As the nation prepares for the final months of its most divisive and energized presidential campaign in recent memory, it appears the whirlwind press coverage of Senator Barack Obama has had a peculiar but nonetheless explicable effect: most American teens already believe he is President of the United States.

“I’m so glad President Obama is changing all the bad stuff Bush did when he was president last year,” expressed Tina Gladwell, a tenth grader at Annapolis High School. “I mean, I know we’re still at war, and people like Mr. Baxter can’t find a job so they drink from brown bags at the bus stop telling us girls how cute we are, but we have a good president now. If he can just find himself a vice president, it’ll be rad.”

Political experts around the country have tried to diagnose this phenomenon, and have cited a plethora of possiblities for why so many youngsters have misunderstood this year’s election cycle.

“You can call it the myopia of youth, or a cult of personality, or perhaps even some latent Freudian desire for a paradigm shift,” explained Dr. Thomas Newton, a political science professor at George Mason University. “But it may come down to the simple facts: Bush’s approval rating is like, 9%, and if McCain lives past Thanksgiving we’ll all be shocked. So maybe the kids are right and Obama IS already president. Fuck. This is getting pretty spacey. Good thing I’m not on acid right now.”

Next Season of ‘The Family Guy’ Rife with Similes

2008-06-29T12:48:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Like the Simpsons, Sans the Political Commentary & Social Relevance

(Los Angeles, CA)—Now that summer repeats dominate the network airwaves, few viewers are thinking of the impending season premieres that await them this autumn. However, writers for the popular animated series The Family Guy are already hard at work, and their goal for next season is simple: they plan to litter each episode with predictably tangential similes.

“Since the show has been around for nearly eight years, we’ve pretty much reduced things to a basic blueprint,” explained senior writer Evan Foley between mouthfuls of corn chips. “Every other line of dialogue needs to have a completely whacky simile where we can cut away, show a bizarre clip, and then return to whatever pretense of plot we’ve established. For example, Brian might say something like, ‘God Peter, that was an awkward dinner party,’ and then Peter says ‘it was almost as awkward as that time we stumbled backstage at the circus and saw that tiger masturbating to an issue of National Geographic.’ Then we show the tiger jacking off. I mean, this shit pretty much writes itself.”

And while criticism for the show ranges from accusations of plagiarism to plain bad taste, it still boasts a bevy of fans despite its increasingly formulaic humor.

“Man, The Family Guy is just straight-up fucking hilarious, what with all the fart jokes and like…it’s just so fucking funny,” boomed Jeff Sarens, a sophomore at San Diego Community College and Vice President of The Family Guy’s official fan club. “I mean, have you seen the show? The dog talks, the baby talks, Peter is a complete nut…I can’t believe no one ever thought to make a cartoon for adults before. I mean, with adult humor and stuff. It’s simply never been done. Ever. That’s what makes The Family Guy so original, so fresh. First of its kind. So you guys want to get high or what?”

Pregnancy Pact Proves Idiocy, Sluttiness of Teen Girls

2008-06-23T10:00:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Gloucester Tramps: Too Cool for Condoms, Too Young to Vote

(Boston, MA)—In a stirring series of events, a recent investigation at Gloucester High School in rural Massachusetts has uncovered a pregnancy pact among eighteen or more girls, none older than 16.

While the nation reels from this disturbing revelation, for many social critics it merely confirms the idiocy of the American teen populous and its myopic, lemming-like approach to major life decisions.

“What strange fucking series of events led these girls to all breed before they even finished 10th grade geometry?” bemoaned Christina Wakovski, a guidance counselor in the Boston suburbs. “I mean, was the mall closed? Did mommy and daddy confiscate their cellies or deny them all new ringtones? I know it’s an old cliché to lament children having children, but Christ, these girls might go into labor on a goddamn school bus!”

Richard Walker, a history teacher at Gloucester High, offered a more reflective commentary on his students’ whoring and eagerness to reproduce.

“Many of these girls come from wealthy families, and with graduation only a year away, it’s not as bad as it may seem,” Walker reflected. “That is, of course, with the exception of Tina Sanchez, who’s dumber than a purebred bulldog slurping antifreeze. Poor girl probably thought her boyfriend’s dick was a rocket ship full of yogurt. I’ll consider it a victory if she can complete the state welfare forms without misspelling her own name.”

NBC Mourns Russert’s Death By Exploiting It For Ratings

2008-06-17T15:25:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Goodnight, Sweet Prince, From All Your Friends at the Nitwit

(Washington, D.C.)—As the nation grieved the untimely passing of esteemed journalist Tim Russert last Friday, NBC did the only logical thing possible to mourn the death of their beloved “Meet the Press” host and Washington Bureau Chief: they shamelessly whored the story for ratings.

“The dude had barely been dead for two hours before they put Brokaw on the air in a black suit shouting it from the rooftop,” chided Jude McMillan, a consultant for the media watchdog Free Exercise. “I don’t know about you, but if one of my best friends just died, I’d be sobbing on my couch like a little bitch. Remember the last episode of The Wonder Years? Multiply that by a billion, that’s how fucking hard I’d sob.”

So even as the Russert family remains secluded in mourning less than a week after this fateful tragedy, NBC continues its parade of tributes and testimonials to the detriment of all other newsworthy events around the globe.

“You know, Iowa is under water right now and gas is nearly five bucks a gallon,” bemoaned Trisha Baxter, a housewife in the Washington suburbs. “But to watch any NBC station right now, you’d think the Jesus Christ of Journalism had gone to the hereafter. And I’m not saying Russert was a bad guy—he had more integrity than all those other pundits put together—but for fuck’s sake give his family some privacy. Plus, I haven’t seen any drunken of footage of Lindsay Lohan in three days!”

Opinion: Monotheism Is For The Birds

2008-06-12T18:19:00.000-07:00

By Mitch Carlyle, Corporate Shill

Carlyle: Jesus Is Just Alright, But So Are Vishnu and Buddha

Would you rather have one dollar or a hundred dollars? Would you rather own one car, or one for every day of the week? And would you rather meet one hottie grinding her ass at the club, or an entire bar full of bawdy, drunk-ass secretaries craving your sausage?

The simple truth is that more is better, even when it applies to religion, and that’s why monotheism is for the birds.

Now I know this sounds like blasphemy to some of you who come from Judeo-Christian backgrounds, so just hear me out. Let’s say your kid has cancer of the everything, and the doctors give ‘em about twelve minutes to live. Are you honestly gonna sit there and watch your kid die because Jesus is on his lunch break, or are you gonna man-up and direct that fucking prayer to Athena, Osiris, and every other fate-bender perched in the clouds?

See, I trade stock for a living, and the market—just like religion—is a fickle mystery. Some days its up, some days its down, but the trick to success is diversifying your investments wisely. In layman’s terms, this means don’t put all your fucking eggs in one basket. So why should prayer be any different? What if the Virgin Mary is playing an intense game of Battleship with Odin, and they don’t check their email until after you’ve had that really important interview? You’d be fucked, that’s what, all because of your supposed “faith.”

In conclusion, monotheism is an archaic notion. The sooner we all use my shotgun approach to prayer, the more shit will go in our favor.

Sharon Stone: Birth Defects, Tornadoes Also Karmic Events

2008-05-29T15:50:00.000-07:00

(Los Angeles, CA) Actress Sharon Stone, who raised eyebrows for suggesting the devastating May 12 earthquake was a result of "bad karma," told National Nitwit reporters that earthquakes are not the only manifestation of karmic retribution.

"Without a doubt - those freaky-looking Down syndrome kids must have done something in a previous life to get those slopy foreheads and squinty eyes," she said, pausing to scratch a sore on her arm. "But you have to admit that Corky dude from that old Life Goes On TV show was pretty funny. In fact, when I'm trying to delay an orgasm, I picture his cross-eyed, buck-toothed grin, and I can stave off cumming as long as I want, although the men I'm with get a little anxious if I giggle out loud while fantasizing about getting retardo-fucked by drool-boy Corky."

Stone added that recent tornado victims in the Midwest also "probably did some weird shit" that brought about karmic consequences.

"Listen - you just know those inbred Arkansas and Kansas creeps are screwing around in ways that would make John Waters blush," she noted, retrieving a chunk of ear wax and wiping it on her skirt. "I used to date this Kentucky guy once, and he insisted on calling me 'Mama' while he was drilling me up the ass and clamping my nipples with a set of jumper cables. I mean, I got off and everything, but I felt kinda dirty later, you know?"

Kennedy to Treat Tumor With Regimen of Booze, Whoring

2008-05-24T06:54:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Kennedy: Holistic Medicine? More Like Hangover Medicine

Senator Ted Kennedy, the most vocal and iconic leaders of the Democratic Party in our nation’s Congress, has made a stunning announcement about his plans to fight an inopperable brain tumor: he vows to “screw and booze myself to recovery.”

“This is a vital moment for me and my family, having endured so much hardship and tragedy throughout our decades of public service,” Kennedy intoned during a recent press conference. “So rather than throwing in the proverbial towel, or slinking away from the harsh rigors of civic life, I have instead chosen to maintain a steady diet of Boston hookers and Jim Beam until this tumor releases me from its chilly grasp, or I die as a byproduct of my own treatment. Really, I’m cool with whatever comes first.”

So as liberal and conservative voters anxiously await news of the senator’s dogged improvement, it remains clear that his questionably torrid behavior is his best chance to overcome this deplorable ailment.

“The doctors tell me chemotherapy is an option, but at best it’ll give me six more months, so fuck that,” Kennedy candidly expressed. “They think I’m gonna start drinking V8 and going to mass on Tuesdays to hear Father McMullen gab about the virtues of chastity? Nigga please. Mark my words: when this tumor is confronted with a naked 19-year old creative writing major from Emerson, her titties aglistening with Crown Royal, it’ll think twice about killing my ass. There’s guff left in this old Mick bastard yet.”

PayPal and eCommerce Have Killed the Mailbox Theft Industry

2008-05-18T12:10:00.000-07:00

Guest editorial by
Frankie Bonnano,
mail misappropriation consultant

There used to be a tie not so very long ago when the fruits of the U.S. Postal Service were ripe for the picking, and a guy could make a quick buck rifling through random envelopes. Why, I remember when an hour's worth of work might net someone like me a cool $500 or more picking through birthday cards and the like.

Not any more, pal.

The rise of this ecommerce horseshit - especially those thieving bastards collectively known as "PayPal" - have completely destroyed the mailbox theft industry, and thrown thousands of hardworking people like me out of gainful employment.

Here's an example: the first of the month used to be a fucking goldmine for Social Security checks, welfare payments, and disability dough. Nowadays, every idiot gets that shit wired into their bank account, and all that's left for mailbox raiders is a statement of deposit.

Even the stupidest check cashing clerk knows that these are worthless.

Left: No longer easy pickings

Or how about the days when an enterprising guy with a car and a heavy-duty chain could jerk the corner mailbox off its moorings? I remember when me and my buddy Paulie snatched one and cleared over two grand out of that one box, loaded as it was with cash-carrying letters from some garden club to an orphanage.

Now THAT was some sweet reward, fella.

So all I got to say to PayPal is this: better watch your back, assholes. There's a lot of angry mailbox divers who would love to take a poke at the Internet geeks who took their jobs.

Nation to Blow Surplus Checks on Seafood, Frivolity

2008-05-11T17:11:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Exclusive Report

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

As millions of working and middle-class Americans anxiously await their economic stimulus checks from the federal government, an uncanny idealism permeates our national discourse. Perhaps folks will use these funds to reduce their family’s debt load, or boost domestic manufacturing, or even reinvigorate our nation’s crumbling automotive industry, and thus salvage our economy from the proverbial crapper.

Instead, it seems that most Americans have one and only one plan for this money: to blow it as fast as possible on seafood, gambling, and other transitory pleasures.

“Dude, my wife and I are getting a combined total of $1,200, and we’ve already made plans for the day that shit shows up,” explained Rick Gangle, a sanitation engineer in Wilmington, Delaware. “We’re both taking two days’ worth of sick leave, gorging ourselves at Red Lobster, and then blowing the rest at Dover Downs on ponies and slots. I mean, sure, we could try to pay down our credit cards, but…fuck that. Capital One is already getting 20% APR a month—those bastards aren’t taking away my fried-shrimp-and-Heineken binge.”

Rebate Check: Burning Holes in Motherfucking Pockets Before it Even Arrives

Other potential recipients reiterated Gangle’s restless anticipation, as they had similar intentions for their funds.

“I’m a single mother of two, so some of that shit need to buy my girls new sneakers for the summer,” rationalized Clarita Johnson, an administrative assistant in Washington, D.C. “But this baby-momma gonna get hers, too, goddamn it. I’m buying a case of Zima, about $300 in scratch-offs, and eating me some fine-ass crabcakes with Dominique from accounts payable while the kids are at their father’s for the weekend. One of these days I’m gonna hit me that big money, so Mr. Willingford can collate his own shit-sucking reports!”

Clinton Offers Gas Tax Holiday, Rim Jobs to US Motorists

2008-05-05T07:22:00.000-07:00

Clinton: Puckered and tested

(Terre Haute, IN) Democratic presidential candidate Hillary Clinton told an Indiana audience that she has a plan to help beleaguered American motorists with the sharp rise in gas prices.

"I am meeting people across Indiana and North Carolina who drive for a living, who commute long distances, who would save money if the oil companies paid this $8 billion gas tax this summer, instead of it coming out of the pockets of consumers," she noted of the 18.4-cent per-gallon federal gas tax. "Also, I intend to give each and every motorist the juiciest rim job they ever got, my tongue buried so deep I'm tasting the first piece of tomorrow morning's turd."

Clinton said that the "two-pronged approach" is necessary to combat corporate gouging.

"There's no doubt that these record profits of the oil companies are a result of a number of factors beyond supply and demand," she said. "I figure a gas tax cut, plus a good old-fashioned ass-tonguing, will help consumers relax a little. I know that nothing gets me into that state of perfect calm better than a 10-minute oral sphincter massage."

Clinton also took aim at her competitors for the White House.

"Senator Obama doesn't want us to take down the gas tax this summer and Senator McCain wants us to, but he doesn't want to pay for it," she said. "But neither of my opponents has offered to shove their tongues up the bung holes of the nation's taxpayers. Let me say this: Hillary Clinton is not too proud to get on her knees and give you anal pleasure, America."

Fraternity Prank Shuts Down Railroad

2008-04-28T08:34:00.000-07:00

Special to the National Nitwit by Sparky News Network

(Jamaica, NY) (SNN) At a hastily called news conference this morning, the MTA and the NTSB announced that their initial investigation has determined the cause of Thursday's derailment at Jamaica station. NTSB spokesman K. C. Jones said there was a catastrophic failure of the wheels to maintain stability and remain on the tracks.

The derailment was due to some 100,000 marbles that were thrown on the tracks. Jones stated that several boys were seen running from the end of the platform shortly before the accident. Witnesses said the boys were jumping up and down on the station platform gleefully screaming, “they’re gonna hit, they’re gonna hit!"

The juvenile suspects were wearing black sweatshirts with a bell shaped symbol on the back and the letters "LLDD." on the front. Investigators quickly determined that the perpetrators were from the Lama Lama Ding Dongs fraternity at nearby Strayber College.

When interviewed by SNN, Dean Otto Vonschlamer stated that he wasn't surprised the fraternity was involved and that the Ding Dongs were already on "double secret" probation. It seems the students were returning back to Strayber from an all-night strippers party when the incident happened.

When investigators gave Vonschlamer the boy’s descriptions, he immediately said, "Pluto, Scrounger, Mustang, Beaver and Toon" were the culprits. Pounder admitted that he bought the marbles at a local Selmart and threw them onto the tracks.

The derailment shut down service on the mainline and stranded ten thousand commuters. Three M-6 commuter cars and 300 feet of track were destroyed and the LIRR estimated the damage to be $4 million. 19 people were removed from the last two cars of the Huntington train which derailed in a slow speed collision with the last car of the Hempstead train. No one was injured and service was returned to normal Friday morning.

I Want to Hit the Insurance Payout Lottery

2008-04-25T13:46:00.000-07:00

Guest Editorial by Paul Oglivie,
expectant recipient

For over three decades I've been working like a pock-marked Hebrew slave in a series of really lousy jobs. I used to buy into the line of crap they feed you about saving for retirement and investing in home equity and letting professionals handle your money and all that jazz.

But here I am, 49 years old, with an upside-down mortgage and $112 in my checking account. I've got a dozen bill collectors calling every number they can link to me, and my credit score is lower than my blood pressure.

So what I'm really waiting for is what I call the Great Insurance Payout Lottery.

Now, I'm not talking some kind of faked slip-and-fall in the grocery to collect a measly $20 grand from an insurance company that wants to settle a bullshit claim. Besides, I hear they're pretty good about sniffing out insurance fraud, and I'm too old to be worrying about getting shanked or raped in a state prison, you dig?

No, what I mean is this: I'm waiting for the day some drunk rich fucker in a Lexus runs a red light and smashes into me and my 1989 Toyota. KER-fucking-BLAM! I'm talking full body cast kind of accident, where I'm signing papers with a green marker that I have to hold with my teeth because my arms and hands are broken, and I'm drooling all over the lawsuit papers, and some 21-year-old nurse has to change my bedpan and wash my bunghole every eight hours.

THAT kind of deal.

Sure, I'd be in traction for six months, and it would be a slow road back to normalcy, and my wife would probably leave me for my ex-boss since I'd be whacked out on Oxycontin and would be calling her all sorts of mean names, since my broken pelvis made sex impossible for the year I was in recovery and I turned bitter and broken, and in the meantime I'd have to file bankruptcy for the hospital bills and home health aides and shit.

But after all that bullshit, I would win my lawsuit, net a cool six million dollars, and I'd be on fucking Easy Street, you know what I mean? And I could by all the fucking Oxycontin I wanted, and if I got tired of the addiction, I could buy the whole fucking inpatient detox joint.

So hurry up, Mr. Maximum Liability Coverage: my clock is ticking here.

Nihilist Celebrates Earth Day by Hastening Earth’s Demise

2008-04-23T11:13:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Wythe: Dripping With CFCs and Pretense

(Los Angeles, CA)—For over forty years, Americans have spent April 22—Earth Day—doing their part to reduce pollution and promote eco-awareness.

That is, of course, with exception of Roland Wythe, an L.A. nihilist who celebrates his own version of Earth Day by wasting a plethora of natural and man-made resources to hasten the demise of life on our fragile planet.

“First thing I did this morning—even before downing a can of Full Throttle—was start my Geo Tracker and let that bitch idle in my driveway with its cracked catalytic converter just pumping exhaust fucking everywhere,” Wythe bragged while painting his fingernails a menacing charcoal. “Then I let the water run for half an hour before showering up and heading to Kinko’s. You’d be amazed how many photocopies of BELIEVE IN NOTHING you can get for sixteen bucks.”

Wythe continued to highlight his afternoon of amoral revelry.

“After lunch, of course, is when things got really interesting,” Wythe explained. “I bought a carton of Camels for some middle school kids, raided the recycle bin behind 7-11, and then for my grand finale, stole 37 bottles of Lysol from Wal-Mart. Lined ‘em up in the parking lot and shot each one with my pellet gun like they were a bunch of fucking terrorists. Yeah, I know I could’ve gone to jail and stuff, but I’m like, totally committed to my belief in not believing in stuff.”

Dominatrix Afficianados Praise Beefed Up Legislation

2008-04-21T06:44:00.000-07:00

Special to National Nitwit via Sparky News Network

(Albany, NY) (SNN) Submissives will finally gain some relief from Doms who can’t properly finish a scene or who end a scene "early" because of a pain or injury they develop. At a press conference early this afternoon, the state legislature announced that it passed controversial bill HD-1269 by an overwhelming majority.

The bill originally, promoted by former governor Eliot Spitzer and known as the Doms with Disabilities Act (DWDA), provides relief for Doms or Dommes who tire easily (due to age or fatigue) or become injured during a sexual performance.

The bill would allow a licensed Dom who becomes disabled some relief during a scene. For example, under the DWDA any Doms complaining of some physical pain in their arms, shoulders, legs or hands. The law would make it legal for another Dom or an “unlicensed” Dom to “Pinch Hit” or take over the task of the injured Dom during the scene. The injured Dom would still have to remain there to oversee the unlicensed Dom.

New York dominatrix Miss Fisty praised legislators for their efforts.

"The natural position of a Dom is one of straddling, not taking it up the ass like a girly-wimp," she told reporters, polishing a 17-inch black dildo as she spoke. "And I am confident that this legislation... hey, you little bitch: did I say you could look at me? Huh? Get on the floor and lick the toejam out between my foot digits, you disgusting piece of shit! And while you're at it, bend over: I want to ram you with this piece of broken glass, maggot."

Under the DWDA, the Dom could also be seated and flog away at the submissive. However, it would be a violation under the Act for a Dom with LDS (Lazy Dom Syndrome) to weedle his way out of his responsibilities by using a chair to sit in during the scene.

The DWDA also does not consider working up a ‘sweat” or becoming “out of breath” as a legal copout simply because the Dom is “out of shape.” The bill also provides for discounts on items such as Aleve, Advil, Icy-Hot, Geritol or Viagra for the whiney Dom.

The legislature also announced that it is working on a “submissive’s bill of rights.” under the new “Let’s Play Tonight” reform Acts. The new law is scheduled to take effect May 1, 2008.

Gay Truck Resentful of McCain Sticker

2008-04-17T15:12:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

The Dembrowsky Ford: Queerer Than a Theater Major at Berkeley

(Wichita, KS)—A 1962 Ford pickup owned by Rick Dembrowsky of Wichita, Kansas, recently came out of the closet and expressed its frustration over his owner’s newly added ‘John McCain for President’ bumper sticker.

“Do you know how many engines I’ve gone through? Three. And exhaust manifolds? Seven. But in four long decades, I’ve never had a single sticker on my rear window or bumper,” the truck opined. “Nights I sat curbside beneath the stars, wishing I had a rainbow pride emblem, or maybe just one of those little glittery ovals that said ‘princess.’ And now that fucker Rick puts—
of all things—a McCain sticker on my ass? I’ve got half a mind to stall out while he’s merging on the interstate and let a semi smash us both into smithereens.”

The truck explained its vehement opposition to this seemingly minute gesture of political endorsement.

“Lord, where do I begin with all that’s wrong about McCain,” the Ford huffed. “From his hundred-year stance on the Iraq war to his half-hearted healthcare reforms, he’s far too conservative for an old queen like me. Unless, of course, he had one of them young Dodge Dakotas. I’m sure a night in the garage with one of those hunks could convince me just about anything. Mercy, I’m a randy one!”

Amish Harness Holsteins for Green Fuel, Bovine Love

2008-04-12T13:37:00.000-07:00

Special to National Nitwit via syndicate contributor Sparky News Network

(Lancaster, PA) Amish inventor Zeke Ackerman has come up the ultimate "green" automobile and truck fuel. Pat Simpson's garage up the road from the Amish farm recently started modifying existing engines to run on the new fuel.

When SNN asked Ackerman what this new energy source was, the squinty-eyed farmer spat and uttered a one-word reply: "Milk."

Neighbor Harold Hansen has been running his tractor with Simpson's modified engine on milk for the last six months.

"It runs pretty well," observed Hansen, "but homogenized seems to let it run smoother. No more curd in the carburetor, but you still have that fresh-baby-puke stench to deal with. Udderly nauseating, I say. Heh - get it? Udderly? I kill me."

Zeke and his farming neighbors are now cashing in on the new fuel, as well as buying up all the Holsteins at the local auction.

"It's just more economical, since the cost of a gallon of gasoline is now surpassing the cost of a gallon of milk," noted Hansen. "Plus, I don't have to run to the Circle-K anymore when the wife is squawking about needing a gallon of milk. I just give her a quick smack upside the head and point her to the truck's fuel tank. She shuts the hell up, I get to finish my tankard of ale - it's win-win-win, if you ask me."

Ackerman described the pre- and post-production processes associated with "bovine green" fuel.

"We've just taken it one step further. Instead of trying to produce ethanol with the hay and corn we just feed it directly to the cows and produce milk," added Ackerman. "And, what comes out of the "tailpipe" of the cow we now recycle as fertilizer, which grows more corn and hay. Nothing gets wasted in the process, since the kids also use the heifer's methane for a quick round of huffing out behind the shed. Little fucker's get all blue in the face and pass out - now THAT's some funny shit, brother."

Energy production also remains a local industry, proponents noted.

"The milk is being produced right here in Lancaster and we're not going to be dependent on foreign oil anymore," Hansen noted. "We're also hoping to harness post-partum women into the mammary grid. Some of the brethren's wives keep them teats a-squirting non-stop 20 years in a row or more."

The Amish historically eschew technology, but it is no surprise that the innovative Mennoite sect invented such a potentially world-changing fuel. Ackerman himself still drives a horse-and-buggy and, when asked if he was going to upgrade to a modified car, Zeke demured.

"I'm never giving up Old Betsy here," he said, pausing to fondly caress the horse's ample flank. "Besides, winters can get mighty cold, if you know what I mean. A feller can get mighty lonesome in a January chill, is all I'm saying."

Pilot Plots Murder Spree in Third-World Nation

2008-04-07T14:07:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Abbott: Ready to Slaughter Some Darkies

(Washington, D.C.)—Reginald Abbott, 13-year veteran of the friendly skies, made a casual announcement earlier this afternoon to friends and colleagues that he is anxiously awaiting his international flight to the Darfur region of Sudan—which is still the site of dire conflict and social unrest—so he can “get in on some old-fashioned people butchering.”

“Well Billy, the idea came to me some years ago when I was in counseling again for my road rage and penchant for blacking out on Quaaludes,” Abbott explained while loading a thirty-round clip for his assault rifle. “There I was, talking to another mindless shrink, and it hit me like a bolt of lightning: why not wait until the airline sends me to some shit-ass African nation where I could just go berserk on the natives, then whore and booze myself into oblivion?”

Abbott outlined his plan for post-colonial colonialism.

“You know, in the 18th and 19th centuries, European powers really decimated the third world, what with the pillaging and raping and depletion of natural resources,” Abbott opined. “But seeing as I’m a white American who makes over a hundred grand a year and looks good in uniform, you could say I’m the 21st century equivalent of a colonial opportunist. So if I can just get this gun past customs by citing the Patriot Act, I’m in business. By the way, do you have any quinine or condoms? I’m trying to stock up before the trip.”

I Sure Wish Peter Coyote Would Narrate My Divorce

2008-04-03T14:15:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Guest Editorial
By Stan Holden, Bear Stearns Vice President

The Holden Divorce: Like the Winter at Valley Forge

I knew the day would come when my succubus cunt of a wife would divorce me if I ever lost my job at Bear Stearns in some corporate shenanigans, and damn if that day didn’t come. And among America’s national bantering about recession and government bailouts, the real story—that of a lowly V.P. from Boston who makes a meager $5.7 million a year and gets taken to the cleaners by his trophy wife—is lost along the way.

That’s why I want smooth-voiced Hollywood legend Peter Coyote to narrate my divorce for a PBS special.

You probably know Peter Coyote from his many films—E.T., Patch Adams, and Erin Brockovich are among his best. But if you’ve ever caught yourself on your fifth Captain and Coke say, around 2 a.m., utterly enraptured by a History Channel documentary on Greek arrowheads or Abraham Lincoln’s constipation, the reason was probably due to ol’ Peter’s grizzled yet responsive timbre.

Peter Coyote: The Voice of PBS & Basic Cable

In fact, I can hear him even now, talking about my humble go-getter years, slaving away as a paralegal in college and struggling for corporate acceptance because I went to Emerson instead of Cambridge. And then meeting Linda, but there would be that eerie foreshadowing when Peter described our picture-perfect wedding, as if, like, after the commercial break everyone would know that she was going to break my heart with her pill popping and shoe addiction and then she leaves for her mother’s cabin in Rochester right when I need her most because my company is in the crapper.

Goodness. I’m getting teary-eyed just thinking how Peter Coyote would narrate my life, my survival, just like that Panamanian tree frog I saw him talk about last week on the Discovery Channel. Yes sir, Mr. Coyote, Stan Holden is your next project—only your voice could do this divorce justice.

We Have the Right to Choose the Candidates Who Will Fuck Us up the Ass

2008-03-29T15:41:00.000-07:00

Guest Editorial by George Norwood,
Michigan voter

I think it is highly un-democratic and an insult to the voters of Michigan that our Democratic primary did not count, and that the Party will not seat our delegates. After all, no state has been hit harder by job cuts than Michigan, and the blue collar voters of this state have been loyal Democrats for many decades.

Thus, it is only fair that we Michigan voters exercise our right to choose which candidate will fuck us up the ass.

Listen - for the past fifty years we've been taking the snake up the poop chute from Washington politicians. LBJ? Hammered us hard. Nixon? Plowed us like blond-headed prison arrivals. Reagan? Slapped us around and drilled us with his withered horse cock.

Some Michigan voters might want Barack Obama as President, because he would probably be gentle and put on some romantic music first, maybe whispering in our ears just before slipping his shaft up our asses. The problem with Obama is that he is young, and would likely want to fuck us up the ass 3-4 times week.

Others might want Hillary Clinton, who would be fucking Michigan voters up the ass with a blood-red strap-on dildo. Clinton would ride Michigan pretty rough, but she would probably fuck us up the ass really hard every other weekend, and she might give Michigan the occasional reacharound.

I think Michigan Republicans had better choices, since John McCain is too old to be fucking Michigan up the ass, and even with Viagra, he would be only be pointing his limp dick our way once a month. But I am glad that Mitt Romney is out, since those sexually repressed Mormons would be likely to be dragging Michigan out behind the garage and fucking us up the ass, like, every hour or so.

So, in the final analysis, as the state that has to get presidentially poked on a regular basis, I believe Michigan residents should have some choice as to which candidate gets to fuck us up the ass.

And maybe this time they could leave twenty bucks on the nightstand. It's not like we are whores, but if we could buy ourselves a little something, we might feel better about getting fucked up the ass so much.

Cock-Starved Feminist Accused of Rape

2008-03-25T13:24:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Exclusive Report
By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Richards: Frumpy, Unshaven, and Hungry for Cock

(Philadelphia)—Feminist and lesbian activist Judith Richards, a leading strategist for the Clinton campaign, was indicted earlier this afternoon for raping a male co-worker at an after-hours party on Super Tuesday.

And with the Pennsylvania primaries only weeks away, such scandal could literally turn the tide in the Democratic presidential primary.

“The evidence in this case is pretty elementary: this dangle-boob carpet-muncher got hammered, coaxed a male coworker into an isolated area who, might I add, was under the impression that new poll numbers had arrived, and proceeded to ride him like a ten-cent rocket ship outside K-Mart,” explained police spokesperson Fernando Gonzalez. “The physical evidence at the scene, what with the torn granny-panties and abundance of vaginal ejaculation, should be more than adequate for the grand jury.”

Many in the legal community are anxiously ponderous, as this case could usher a paradigm shift in the very concept of rape, as well as its warning signs, modes of prevention, and stereotypical culprits.

“When we think of rapists, we tend to picture meathead college boys or perverted loners—men with uncontrollable urges and violent tendencies,” explained Dr. Xavier Guff, Professor of Sociology at Temple University. “But the Richards situation clearly demonstrates that a portion of the dikewad community, seemingly content with finger-bangs and lick-jobs, is ultimately jonesing for the purple-headed yogurt-tosser, and will go to extraordinarily means to have their needs fulfilled.”

Bush Celebrates 5-Year Iraq Anniversary with Cake, Clowns

2008-03-19T17:48:00.000-07:00

Left: President Bush gets ready to do the limbo

President Bush marked five years since ordering the invasion of Iraq with a celebratory party at an undisclosed Washington location, replete with party favors and chocolate cake.

"The successes we are seeing in Iraq are undeniable, yet some in Washington still call for retreat," the President told reporters as he helped himself to some cotton candy. "What they ought to be doing is grabbing a couple of these here cupcakes - they got this crunchy rainbow candy in 'em, and I'll be damned if I couldn't stop before eating six of the fuckers. Hoo-ee!"

Bush indicated that he's not ready to withdraw more troops from Iraq than have been scheduled to leave through about mid-July.

"I will say this: that funny clown really fooled me with the rabbit-shaped balloon he blew up," chuckled Mr. Bush. "I thought he was trying to screw with me, turning it into a machine gun-wielding soldier shooting up an Iraqi baby or some shit. But no: just a bunny. Good thing, too, because I would've bitch-slapped the fucker if Happy the Clown tried to pull a fast one on me."

The President defended his often-criticized Iraq policies.

"The answers are clear to me: removing Saddam Hussein from power was the right decision," he said. "It's too bad, though, because I would have liked to play Lawn Jarts with that dude, and maybe eat a few hot dogs or something. We could've been buds, if I didn't have to hang his ass and all. Still, the punch at this shindig is first-rate, and I might try to nail one of these soccer moms after Laura calls it a night. Hell, by 8 o'clock, this party will be just getting started! Maybe we can play a game of 'pin the tail on the President's cock' or something wacky like that."

I’m Fuckin’ Outraged by the Lack of 9/11 Tributes in this Town

2008-03-16T10:23:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Guest Editorial
By Jack Kirshner, Baltimore Deliveryman

Kirshner: Maryland’s Last True Patriot?

You know, March 11th marked the 6 ½ year anniversary of those horrific terrorist attacks on our nation. And this entire week, as I’ve loaded my delivery truck and driven up and down the gritty streets of Baltimore, I was shocked—I mean fuckin’ shocked—that there wasn’t a single 9/11 tribute anywhere. No candlelight vigils, no marches, no prayer banners hung from corporate buildings.

So listen up, Baltimore: I’m fuckin’ outraged by the lack of 9/11 tributes in this town.

Have we already forgotten that 6 ½ years ago, the entire Middle East, along with Russia and South Korea, destroyed nineteen city blocks of New York City, claiming the lives of millions of Americans and their pets? They went ballistic on our asses—they bombed the Trade Towers, decimated our schools and churches, and slaughtered women and children like it was a fuckin’ round of paintball.

Well ol’ Jack hasn’t forgotten. And that’s why I’m here to call it as I see it: Baltimore, you don’t give two shits. Why, if this town really cared about America, people would spend their lunch breaks getting Uncle Sam tattoos and putting yellow ribbon magnets on their Nissan Sentras. Folks all over this city would be mailin’ six-packs of beer to our boys over there in the desert, so they could pound a few Natty Bo’s after wasting those fuckin’ sand-niggers for what they done to our firefighters and nuns and such.

9/11 was like the Holocaust, the Colts moving to Indianapolis, and that asteroid that killed all the dinosaurs rolled together times a zillion. It’s high time you paid your respects, Baltimore, if you don’t want me rubbin’ my balls all over your precious Amazon book order.

Spitzer to Nation: “Sorry I Was Nabbed for an Almost-Fuck”

2008-03-10T17:25:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Breaking Report
By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Spitzer: Wished He Got His Rocks Off

(New York)—Earlier this afternoon New York Governor Eliot Spitzer apologized for his involvement in a torrid prostitution ring, which has, among other things, produced wiretap evidence of his solicitation.

And while the governor’s political future still remains vastly uncertain, Spitzer used the national spotlight to offer a somewhat bizarre apology: he lamented not having actually engaged in sexual intercourse with a prostitute before his guilt was made public.

“Let me apologize first and foremost to that whore I never had the good fortune to meet, because I certainly would have raw-dogged her balloon knot,” Spitzer read from a brief statement before a swarm of reporters. “I know this has been an excruciatingly trying time for my wife and family, but I deeply lament this admittance of guilt knowing that I never actually watched this gutter-slut gargle my mayonnaise after a long night of snorting China White.”

Spitzer continued to outline the graphic sexual acts he would have preferred to apologize for rather than this mere implication.

“And true, while I admit that my involvement in a request for paid sex acts is nefarious at best, I would much rather have been caught balls-deep in some nameless Puerto Rican girl’s snatch while she writhed and slobbered on a stained motel mattress,” a teary-eyed Spitzer huffed. “Perhaps had I done that, and then subsequently gotten a blow-job in my State House chambers, all this moral fallout would feel somehow deserved.”

With Candidacy at Stake, Clinton to Toss Salad of Potential Voters

2008-03-04T16:25:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Clinton: Bring On the Rumps

(Washington, D.C.)—With her presidential bid struggling to compete with Barack Obama’s now-infamous surge in delegates and financial contributions, Hilary Clinton announced this morning that she is going to “toss the motherfucking salad” of any registered Democratic voters living in the crucial states of Ohio or Texas before their do-or-die primary elections.

It is worth noting that ‘salad tossing’ is street slang for analingus, a rather taboo sexual act that is most popular among prison inmates.

“My fellow Americans, so much of this race has hinged on whose dedication and leadership is more worthy of your vote,” a slightly intoxicated Clinton intoned. “So that is why I’m going to put my dignity, health, and tongue on the line by eating some Texas cowboy ass, right now, and earn your vote the old fashioned way: by embracing patriarchy and salsa-slathered butt-holes.”

Lest Ohio voters feel unattended, Clinton explained her impending Marathon Munch Tour.

“After I’ve licked my way across the panhandle, I’m coming for you Ohio,” Clinton boomed. “And if you want it in the back of a ’74 Dodge Dart with Bob Seger cranked on the eight track, then goddamn it, that’s how I’ll do it. Just remember, America, as I’m face deep in your turd-cutter, that this election is more than fancy speeches—it’s about getting the job done. Well, that and ass-gasms.”

Recent Poll of Pollsters Reveals Major Flaws in Polling

2008-02-29T14:58:00.000-08:00

A National Nitwit Exclusive Report
By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

American Partisanship: The Jigsaw Puzzle from Hell

(Washington, D.C.)—A recent poll of key U.S. pollsters such as the Associated Press, CNN, and MSNBC other esteemed organizations has startlingly exposed that political polls have been grossly inaccurate and, at best, misrepresentative of voting trends in recent months.

“It’s really quite atrocious,” remarked Dr. Wilson McDermitt, a research analyst with ABC News. “These Obama-Clinton polls have been ridiculously off-course…I mean, she’ll be lucky to have tampon money, let alone a congressional career when this embarrassment of a campaign is over. Thank god someone took the time to poll us pollsters about these atrocious polls.”

And while speculation runs rampant as to what exactly is the root cause of polling inaccuracies, the central problem for pollsters is simple: people lie.

“Dude, people don’t only lie, they fuck with polls on purpose,” explained a smirking Ian Glaser, a communications executive for Knight Ridder News. “And who can blame them? Imagine it’s 18 degrees outside, you’re late for a lunch meeting, and some egghead Ivy-leaguer starts asking you what brand peanut butter you buy and whether or not you believe greenhouse gasses are contributing to global warming. You just yell the first name that comes to mind—McCain! Obama! Huckafuck!—and get the hell out of there. So of course when they tally the real votes a week later it’s radically different. Asking an American to be honest about politics is like asking a Great Dane to shit in a litterbox.”

Diddy Considers Name Change to ‘D.J. Diphthong’

2008-02-25T19:36:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Diddy to Get All Grammatical On Yo Ass?

(New York)—It was only a few short weeks ago that the tabloid press seemingly went bananas over Sean ‘P. Diddy’ Combs—formerly known as ‘Puff Daddy’—and his possible name change to ‘Sean Jean,’ the moniker of his urban-chic clothing line.

While Diddy did his best to dismiss such claims as “baseless rumors,” it appears that he is once again considering a new pseudonym: D.J. Diphthong.

“I been in the game too long now to have these joke rappas all tryin’ to steal the limelight, you feel me,” Diddy explained during an exclusive phone interview with the National Nitwit. “I gots to keep my shit fresh. I ain’t sayin’ I’m gonna go changin’ shit [such as my name], but if I was, you might wake some day soon to find yo nigga D.J. Diphthong is keepin’ it ol’ school.”

Ironically, Diddy seemed unaware that ‘diphthong’ is a linguistic term for vowel sliding in monosyllabic words (such as ‘toy’ and ‘same’), but he nonetheless expressed sincere excitement about the word’s symbolic potential.

“Me and some shorties be grindin’ last week, and it turns out this one bitch be like a PhD in grammarology or some shit,” Diddy recalled. “I don’t remember much of that night, if you feel me, but she dropped some heavy shit on my ass when she broke out that word ‘diphthong.’ That’s some medieval intellectual shit right there, and fo-sho D.J. Diphthong would let these punk-ass playas know that a corporate gansta is still a motherfuckin’ gansta, if you catch what I be throwin’.”

Nation's Squirrels Decry Psychotic Stereotypes

2008-02-21T04:51:00.001-08:00

Left: Hyperactive, but not necessarily crazed

(Washington, DC) Representatives of the nation's estimated one billion squirrels gathered outside Congress today to protest the "demeaning and unfair" portrayal of the furry rodents in the media.

Worldwide Effort by Squirrels Against Negativity and Error (WESANE) pointed to last week's shooting on the campus of Northern Illinois University as evidence of the media bias against squirrels.

"In no less than 350 major media outlets was [shooter] Steven Kazmierczak described as 'squirrelly,' which reinforced the idea that members of the Sciuridae family are somehow a bunch of unstable, sociopathic killers," said Bucky Nuthall, a WESANE member. "We are fed up with these demeaning and misleading portrayals. Heck, last week I was hanging out in the park, and when I walked toward some little girl, she started screaming - screaming- because of me. It's bad enough that you people cross the street to avoid us, or make those insulting chuck-chuck-chuck noises at us all day."

Left: No semiautomatic weapons here, no sir

Nuthall added that group members have faced "considerable discrimination" in housing, employment, and health care.

"Ever see the Humane Society show up for a wounded squirrel? I thought not," he said, pausing to scratch behind his ear. "Rat poison in our nests, kids taking potshots at us with BB guns: we got it rough, y'all. And what's with trying to put barbed wire on your bird feeders? Listen - you put the food out, so we should have equal access to the shit, right? I thought that bigotry and Jim Crow died in the 1960s, but it seems that both are alive and well."

New Biography Claims Mother Theresa Was a "Total Cunt”

2008-02-19T15:32:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Her Holiness Angrily Awaiting Her Latte and Dry Cleaning

(New York)—Publishing giant Random House announced this morning that a new, tell-all biography of Mother Theresa will hit bookstores this summer, and is certain to cause controversy due to its claim that the hallowed nun was, in fact, “an epic diva bitch-face.”

Its author, the always-controversial author Christopher Hitchens, argues quite vociferously that Mother Theresa cared little for the poor, but rather used the international spotlight to further her own ego and political agenda.

“Theresa helped many people, surely, but what was never mentioned in the press was her total cunt attitude while she did it,” remarked Hitchens during an exclusive phone interview with the National Nitwit. “There is irrefutable documentary evidence of her spitting in soup kitchen meals, infesting blankets with fleas…the list goes on. Hell, one Indian man I interviewed said this supposed saint told him he should’ve been a blowjob—swallowed rather than born. Quite heartless stuff, really.”

Hitchens also decried Mother Theresa’s supposedly humanitarian motives, and insisted that they were, in fact, self-serving.

“The woman simply wanted more Catholics in the world, case closed,” Hitchens claimed in his affected British accent. “As an atheist, I can tell you her only motivation in opposing abortion was so more wriggling infants screeched into this world as good papists rather than as Hindis or Jews or regular old Protestant gutter-trash. And since I make a living by writing such outlandish biographies, I can assure potential readers that I am a wholly objective, secular authority on this woman’s dismal life.”

Roger Clemens Denies Ever Doing Anything Remotely Bad. Ever. Really.

2008-02-14T05:49:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Clemens: Pious as a Schoolgirl in Pigtails

(Washington, D.C.)—Roger Clemens, the virtuoso MLB pitcher whose years of excellence have sadly led to a heated debate about his alleged steroid use, testified today before a House oversight committee.

What was remarkable, however, was that not only did Clemens deny using Human Growth Hormone (HGH), but he also denied ever committing an immoral deed in his entire life.

“I appreciate the intensity and vigor of this investigation, but will continue to fiercely assert that I have never knowingly used a banned substance,” Clemens vehemently remarked during today’s testimony. “But I would also like to add, since I’m under oath, that I have never farted, engaged in unprotected sex with a minor, placed a bet on a street fight, thrown fistfuls of change into a hotel pool from the seventeenth floor while drunk, spanked a hooker’s ass with a live albacore tuna, or ejaculated into a Christmas card and mailed it to my neighborhood synagogue.”

Clemens’s tenacious defense of his good name continued in rollicking filibuster fashion as an obvious attempt to salvage his reputation.

“Again, let me deny the use of any illicit enhancement that would alter my performance on or off the field,” Clemens boomed. “And while we’re on the subject, not once have I ever picked my nose at a stoplight, beaten a midget with a pool cue, flown to South America for a weekend coke binge, spat in the bacon bits at an Applebee’s salad bar, left an unflushed shit stewing in an airplane bathroom, or let a cat lick melted Parisian chocolate from my testicles. I can only pray that, in time, this investigation will clear my good name.”

Glenn Beck to Suck Cock in Protest of McCain’s Centrist Platform

2008-02-10T14:51:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Beck: Gobbling Dongs to Defy Reason, Democracy

(Washington, D.C.)—Glenn Beck, the radically conservative radio and television personality known for his extremist views and aggressive demeanor, announced today that he would go on a cock sucking marathon in protest of John McCain’s maverick policies and their subsequent endorsement by the masses.

“This man does not represent the core values of the Republican Party, and his emergence as frontrunner for the presidential nomination is nothing short of a travesty,” Beck shouted during a news conference earlier this morning. “That is why, as of tomorrow morning, I’m going to begin slurping cock after cock to protest the liberal views that have infected the G.O.P. like some sort of weird African virus.”

Beck further explained the reasoning behind his unusual method of expressing political dissent.

“Friends, you know me to be the most genuinely conservative voice in these great United States,” Beck intoned as he stretched his jaw muscles and applied lip balm. “So I want you to see the toll McCain’s hippie agenda has had on me personally as I swallow mouthfuls of frothy negro cum. I know, I know—millions of so-called Americans voted for this man in fair and balanced primary elections, but my fringe views are the only path to salvation from the illegals and fags and tree-hugging war-haters. Think on that, my fellow Republicans, as the nut butter oozes down my cheek.”

What O.J. Simpson Needs is an O.J. Whisperer

2008-02-05T17:09:00.000-08:00

Guest editorial
by Harold Morley, custodian and cultural analyst

First you had your horse whisperers, who help fix horses that turned vicious and crazy due to abuse or trauma or kids poking them with pointy sticks. Then you got your dog whisperers, who rehabilitate and restore calm to freaky dogs with major problems. These people know their stuff, and your Robert Redfords and Cesar Millans work regular miracles, if you ask me.

So, given his nutty-ass behavior, I think what O.J. Simpson needs is what you might call an "O.J. Whisperer."

An O.J. Whisperer could be there after O.J. gets all wired up on a couple of grams of high-grade Bolivian marching powder, cooing and petting him when he's getting all paranoid and violent and bitch-slappy and stuff. An O.J. Whisperer would recognize when O.J. pins his ears back, bares his teeth, and starts exhibiting telltale danger signs, like rearing back or screaming or charging.

The Whisperer could calm O.J. down before he kills someone, and maybe Nicole Brown Simpson would still be alive if there had been an O.J. Whisperer, you know?

Perhaps an O.J. whisperer could calm this misunderstood stallion

Maybe the O.J. Whisperer could train O.J. like they do with pack dogs. The Whisperer could give O.J. the sorts of rules, boundaries and limitations to establish himself as a good pack leader, and help correct and control unwanted behaviors, what you call your "positive training." The Whisperer would know that an O.J. needs a calm, assertive pack leader to keep him in line.

If that doesn't work, they could always try one of those 24-volt shock collars for O.J. When O.J. misbehaves, like if he starts feeling up some barmaid or pulling a gun on some guy in the Seven-11 parking lot, you could zap him and give him a quick: "BAD O.J.!"

Just do it with a rolled-up newspaper, for extra reinforcement.

After Record Profits, Exxon Mobil Plans Hostile Takeover of Air

2008-02-01T16:31:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Air: Another Resource Ripe for Plunder

(New York)—Exxon Mobil, the oft-despised gasoline behemoth, announced today that 2007 was a landmark year for profit, earning the corporation a staggering $40.6 billion due in large part to surging prices at the pump.

Yet high-ranking executives are not content with this short-term growth, and seem poised for the hostile takeover of another natural resource: Air.

“The buzz on Wall Street is that Exxon Mobil is in aggressive negotiations with God, Inc., and may begin a hostile takeover if those stubborn angels and archangels remain committed to their old business model,” explained Tim Reed, analyst for Energy Now!, a D.C.-area think-tank. “Sources close to the Big Guy—who remains charismatic, but largely a figurehead CEO—feel he’s powerless to stop the proceedings, so realistically Exxon Mobil could have the corner market on Air by 2010.”

And while a corporate monopoly on Air may be a startlingly apocalyptic notion for most Americans, Exxon Mobil feels that their insistent commandeering will ultimately improve the lives of their customers.

“Our service stations have sold Air for years to help thwart tire deflation, so this is just a logical extension of that product,” explained company spokesperson Gina Lee. “In fact, we’re already designing new merchandise, such as Bottled Air and Oxygen Speedpass, for those busy breathers on the go. In a few short years, Americans will laugh when they look back and realize how primitive unfiltered respiration truly is!”

Romney Really Connects with Black Voters by Using the Phrases "Bling Bling" and "Who Let The Dogs Out"

2008-01-28T05:58:00.000-08:00

Guest Editorial
by Winsted Andover, GOP political strategist

You know, there are moments in a campaign when an observer just has to stop, clap his hands, and say: "Bravo!" For me, that occurred the other day when I saw Mitt Romney shake off his pre-packaged personna and get real with some African Americans during a Martin Luther King Jr. memorial.

We saw Romney really connect with black voters by using the phrases "Bling Bling" and "Who Let The Dogs Out" that day. I mean, you expected him to say the usual sorts of candidate nonsense, but Romney really got down and boogied last week, and I think that this is a turning point for him. Up to this point, it has been John McCain getting most of the sympathy black votes, since he is the only GOP candidate to ever spend time in a prison cell.

It's no secret that Republicans have not fared well with black voters in the past five or six electoral cycles, at least not with blacks earning less than $70,000 per year, which would be, like, 97% of them or so. I have a gut feeling that Romney's plan to show his groove thang will resonate with blacks in a way no Republican has since Abraham-fucking-Lincoln.

My recommendation? Romney needs to drop black cultural references in every speech between now and November. Hip phrases like "Sock it to me, baby!" and "Dy-no-MITE!" and "My name is Kunta Kinte," stuff like that. Every photo opp should feature him pulling a greasy fried chicken leg out of a bucket, and he ought to start wearing baggy shorts and a sideways-turned baseball hat, too.

Oh, and when he's talking about Osama bin Laden, I wholeheartedly suggest that he use a line like this: "I finna bust a cap in that niggah's ass, a-i-i-i-e-e-e-e-e-t!"

You gotta use every tool in the box when running for President, and I think Mitt Romney has one killa strategy, y'all.

Baby, I Got Your Economic Stimulus Package Right Here

2008-01-25T13:07:00.000-08:00

Guest Editorial
by Tre Margolis, Growth Specialist

Baby, time is just a raindrop plopping in the ocean. Let your love free now before it slips away, or before my tsunami of lust washes over us!

Listen, I know you are all worried about the economy and all that, thinking your job might disappear and stuff. Every time you turn on the TV, it's more bad news about unemployment and the credit crunch and the stock markets.

But baby, I got your economic stimulus package right here.

I will make you the most satisfied woman on Earth. I will sex you up like no one has ever sexed you up before. You’ve felt my love jackhammer, you know I am Chairman of the Bed, and that I don't mess around with discount rates, and that when it comes to priming the pump, I'm the master.

Yes, baby, mine is ultimate tool in fiscal policy, and your boy Ben Bernanke ain't got nothing on Tre. Come back to me, baby, and let's spur some growth.

South Carolina: I'm Your Nigga

2008-01-23T06:13:00.000-08:00

Guest Editorial by
Senator Hillary Clinton

Listen up, y'all: I know that Brarack Obama has been peddling his half-black ass around South Carolina lately, trying to pretend he has an ounce of Negritude about him, but I know that South Carolina voters are not that stupid. You want a President who can walk the walk, and who knows what it means to grow up poor and black.

South Carolina: I, Hillary Rodham Clinton, am your nigga.

For starters, y'all know that my husband Bill was the first African American President, and since I have slept with him at least a dozen times, it is obvious I am down with the brown. What you probably don't know is that I taught Bill everything he knows about being black.

So when everybody got they noses up in the air, I'll be there for you, lettin' you know your nigga cares. Cuz only niggas is willing to put it all on the line, so ride wit us when it's killin' time, 'cuz I got yo back, South Carolina.

And when I'm ballin', I'm a floss in front of all y'all non-believers. You thought I couldn't win, but to my homies, my lovers, and my friends, I got yo back, South Carolina.

Peace out, y'all.

Armless Man a "Virtual Rock God" at Guitar Hero

2008-01-22T16:23:00.000-08:00

(Harrisburg, PA) Guitar whizzes are a dime a dozen on Guitar Hero, the video game that uses a guitar-shaped peripheral to simulate the playing of rock music.

Few players, however, can boast of the skills exhibited by 24-year-old Peter Senzaarto, a man born without arms who is setting afire the community of Guitar Hero aficionados.

"Dude, Peter is sensational. His first solo ["Carry On Wayward Son" by Kansas] was one of the finest I have ever heard someone play," said Harrisburg resident Tom "Tweedy" Upshaw. "This cat does more with his little toes on Guitar Hero than I could do with four fucking arms. Incredible!"

Neighbor Michael Restall, who acquainted Senzaarto with the video game three years ago, said that the armless Wunderkind is "simply the world's greatest" virtual guitarist.

"You can’t manufacture authenticity, and this dude has plenty of it," said Restall. "From the heart, he lets loose; his struggles as well as his triumphs in life go hand in hand - err, make that foot-in-foot - with the music he plays."

Not all residents in this blue collar neighborhood give Senzaarto such glowing praise, though.

"Honestly? Pete needs to do something about the crud on his feet," noted Breanna Geiger, sister to one of Sezaarto's posse. "I mean, I might be even willing to do him if I was drunk, but the thought of those crusty, creepy toes scraping up and down my leg? No way."

Nation Celebrates MLK Day by Returning Unwanted Christmas Gifts

2008-01-21T17:55:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

We Shall Overcome…the Customer Service Line at Macy’s

(Washington, D.C.)—Rather than watching a History Channel special on Civil Rights, or viewing the famed “I Have a Dream Speech” on YouTube, millions of Americans spent the federal holiday in honor of Dr. King returning unwanted Christmas presents and redeeming gift cards.

“I woke up around ten this morning, still pissy that the Packers lost and totally bummed that the only real holiday on the horizon is St. Patty’s Day, which might as well be in August,” huffed a frustrated Rick Mulligan, a D.C.-area paralegal. “So I brewed a strong pot of coffee and plan to waste the afternoon returning half the Christmas clothes I bought for my wife. Don’t get me wrong—I love Dr. King—but this shit is barely a step above Arbor Day, except the mailman doesn’t come.”

Even for members of the African-American community, today seemed less about celebrating the life of a cherished leader and more about running errands.

“You don’t need to tell ME what today is about,” remarked a vocal LeShonda Williams, local dental hygienist and single mother of two. “Today is about freedom, and hope, and about remembering what we done been through as a people. It’s also about exchanging this broke-ass PSP I bought for my son, since they only give you 30 days for that shit and I don’t get no hour-long lunch break during the week.”

Dr. Evan Kessler, professor of sociology at Georgetown University, offered these sobering thoughts on public indifference.

“While racism is still a rampant concern in America, many of us are too consumed with our daily lives to stop and take national inventory, which was the guiding impetus behind this holiday,” Dr. Kessler explained. “Many just view today as a freebie, spend it willy-nilly, and later watch an hour of PBS after dinner to assuage our sense of obligation. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going—I need to exchange this cardigan at The Gap, and I’m sure the return line is a motherfucker.”

Tom Brady Outed as Vampire Who Feasts on Fresh Virgin Blood

2008-01-18T14:27:00.000-08:00

A National Nitwit Exclusive Report
By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Brady: He’ll Suck Your Daughter Dry

(Foxborough, MA)—Sources close to the New England Patriots leaked critical information earlier this morning that NFL MVP Tom Brady, arguably the greatest quarterback of his generation, is in fact a vampire who feasts on the blood of unspoiled teenage women.

“Brady is a monster, straight up,” remarked a Patriots source who spoke to the National Nitwit only under the guise of anonymity. “I mean, for starters, the guy sleeps in a coffin, refuses to eat any dish with garlic at team luncheons, and frankly, just has blood on his face all the time.”

However, it is not just any blood that quenches Brady’s unholy thirst.

“When I first met Tom, man, I thought he was just into young pussy, right, which ain’t all that different from other single guys in this league,” explained teammate Randy Moss. “But then I noticed he was never with the same shorty twice, and that he get really paranoid about guys opening the trunk of his car. It didn’t take long to put two and two together.”

So as the Patriots and Chargers both prepare for their AFC Championship bout this weekend, one question remains: will Brady’s bloodlust undermine his team’s unprecedented season?

“Look, I don’t care if the guy is slurping type O Negative from Hannah Montana’s inner thigh on the sideline,” huffed a defensive Moss. “As long as my dude keep throwing touchdowns, we goin’ to the Superbowl.”

Pedophile Vows: "No Child's Behind Left Behind"

2008-01-14T14:21:00.000-08:00

(Terre Haute, IN) Craig Baxter, a local afficianado of puerile pleasures, announced that he will initiate a campaign of "caring and cuddling" for Terre Haute area children.

Tentaively known as "No Child's Behind Left Behind," the program will target disadvantaged and disaffected youth throughout Indiana.

"Pretty basically, I've got a lot of love for kids, and lots of room in my van," he noted. "It's a shame that there are so many youngsters crying out for attention. I just want to help."

Baxter said that other members of the "kid-friendly" community to which he belongs have expressed interest in the non-profit movement.

"Oh yes - there is a ton of interest in expanding the target demographic," he said, pausing to check some instant messages on his laptop. "I can tell you that there is no lack of enthusiasm for a child's behind here."

Homeless NH Man Not Seeing Much Change from Candidates

2008-01-07T13:52:00.000-08:00

(Portsmouth, NH) Local panhandler Emmett Burgoyne said that he has tracked down "nearly every" presidential contender in the upcoming primary, and he has been disappointed with their collective efforts to bring change to the Granite State.

"So far, to date, I've only received $1.84 from these heartless bastards," he noted. "And most of that was from Dennis Kucinich when he thought I was a parking lot attendant. As far as I'm concerned, these cheap sons-a-bitches don't know the meaning of the word 'change.'"

Burgoyne said that most of the candidates tried to pretend he did not exist.

"I mean, it's not like I don't have a sign and all," he added. "It would be one thing if I was some crazed, drooling lunatic who deserved a Secret Service laser-sight on his forehead, but I am just doing my job and getting shat on."

Burgoyne said that GOP candidate Mitt Romney gave him the "coldest of cold shoulders" after a speech this morning.

"Dude was all like: 'Just... don't... touch... me!' when I walked over to him," he recalled. "Yes, I need a bath, and yes, I'm not exactly walking around in a Brooks Brothers suit, but there's no reason to treat me like an LDS heretic and shit. Some things are just plain wrong, you know?"

McDonald's Hip-Hop Attitude Must Really be Connecting with the Black Folks

2008-01-05T09:02:00.000-08:00

Guest Editorial by Reese McCullough,
marketing consultant

You've just got to hand it to the marketing geniuses at McDonald's, a company that is never content to sit on its corporate laurels. I about laughed myself silly watching that new commercial with the little black kid with the beatbox, who munches his french fries as a rap song goes on in the background.

I think that McDonald's hip-hop attitude in their commercials must really be connecting with the black folks!

You know the one I am talking about, right? It has the song "Cha-Cha Slide" in the background, and the street-smart kid schools his dad in the living room? There he is, in his Adidas track suit, just a-dipping those apples in the caramel sauce right to the beat?

And his dad, who at first looks like he's some kind of middle management type, but we later find out he's not above a-shucking and a-jiving with the kid? I mean, you can't change who you are, am I right? As soon as the dad starts feeling the rhythm, he's just got to start a-bobbing his head and getting that funk moving.

I think McDonald's should make a whole series of these crazy commercials. Maybe the dad can be riding with the kid in their big old 1976 Cadillac Fleetwood, all pimped out in chrome and the beat to the "Cha-Cha Slide" pumping throughout the whole ghetto. Then the camera could cut to the adorable mom, who is in the backset of the Caddy stuffing fries in her face and whose 250-lb body is jiggling to the beat.

Nothing too sexy, mind you, but maybe the wind could blow that colorful Hawaiian muumuu around a bit to see a little of that tasty-looking cleavage, or maybe she would drop a Chicken McNugget and we could see that gigantic rump wiggling a bit as she adjusts her dew-rag.

Anyways, kudos to McDonald's for making a commercial that really nails it. Not only do they hit a grand slam in the black demographic, but the rest of us learn just a little bit about other cultures.

Jamie Lynn Spears Rejects "Filthy Teen Whore" Label

2008-01-02T13:41:00.000-08:00

(Los Angeles, CA) Pregnant teen actress Jamie Lynn Spears, sister of pop singer Britney Spears and star of Nickelodeon's "Zoey 101" program, told National Nitwit reporters that she "totally denies" that she is a nasty, cum-slurping slut.

"No way, no way," she reiterated. "I've been with, like, less than two dozen guys in my life, and me and Casey [Aldridge, her 19-year-old boyfriend] had been monogamatic for like, three weeks. Y'all are a bunch of haters."

Spears attributed her reputation as a grimy, sullied hoe-bag to "jealous skanks in the press."

"Let's face it - most of the ugly lesbians who work as reporters got teased a lot in school," the unclean skeezer speculated. "If I was that repulsive, I'd probably hate me, too."

Spears added that she is going to keep a "positive attitude" about news accounts depicting her as a disease-ridden hoochie, and that she hopes to turn her notoriety as a white-trash, slaggy cum dumpster into new career opportunities.

"Look - there are lots of films that require the presence of some besmirched, instant-bang slapper," she noted. "With my notoriety as a sordid, cock-craving trick, I will straight up have no problems landing movie roles as a nasty, bunghole-licking piece of meat. Plus, there are just tons of rap videos that use smutty, contaminated, crack-whore types, so I should be good there, too."

“O.C.” Actress Busted for Acting Like Character on “The O.C.”

2007-12-30T07:28:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Barton: I Can’t Drive 55…or Sober

(Los Angeles, CA)—Actress Mischa Barton, who rocketed to stardom during her stint on the tweenie drama “The O.C.” as the belabored drama queen Marissa Cooper, was arrested early Thursday morning for driving under the influence and possessing several narcotic substances.

Barton was flabbergasted, however, that her real-life behavior could be so harshly penalized for mimicking her small-screen exploits.

“Jesus, I don’t know what the big deal is I just had some weed and beers fuckin’ pigs,” Barton slurred from her jail cell after fingerprinting. “Fuckin’ did this on TV all the time overdosing stuff and famous now. Famous! Can’t believe this. Like, fuckin’, don’t wanna mug shot. HEY PIGS I’M ON MY PERIOD IN HERE CAN I GET SOME RESPECT YOU FASCISTS!”

Sadly, Barton’s arrest concludes a tenuous year for young Hollywood starlets, as Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, and Lindsay Lohan also had their fair share of legal difficulty in 2007.

“Apparently rehab and global embarrassment isn’t enough for these young ladies,” remarked Elvira Nichols, a syndicated celebrity columnist. “If they don’t watch themselves, all four of these vixens will be so broken and listless by their wanton partying that they’ll snort broken glass out of Robert Downey, Jr.’s puckered anus just to feel something.”

Economist: Hookers Remain Your Best Coital Value

2007-12-27T07:24:00.000-08:00

Guest Editorial by
Philips Haverhill, sexual economist

Many readers assume that the traditional method of obtaining sex - namely, through the acquisition of and negotiating with a monogamous partner - provides the safest returns and surest opportunities for sexual gratification.

Nothing, my friends, could be further from the truth.

The best value is in sex continues to be hookers, and for real value one simply cannot argue with mid-range call girls, who are trading currently at 40 percent discounts to net asset value for savvy negotiators. More importantly, one can improve on these already heady returns and pick up some interesting yields from forced sellers.

Take "Adriana," for example, who is a Brazilian hooker I met up with on a recent trip to Rio de Janeiro. Brazil's falling interest and inflation rates have coincided with stability in the political system and considerable growth in the owner-occupier property sector, which turned out to bode well for my negotiations. Knowing these indicators, I was able to work Adriana down from 150 Brazilian Reais (about $84) down to a much more affordable 90 Reais for our 60-minute session, plus I had her pick up the tab for the bottle of wine I had delivered by room service, since she consumed almost the entire bottle.

Simply put, there is a glut in the global sex markets, and to enhance their competitiveness in an era of increasing globalization, hookers need to cut down production costs and focus on improving quality. That means better, cheaper sex for you in the short-term future, and I project that the hooker market will continue to provide its customers with impressive value in the coming decade.

Frosty the Snowman Busted for Peddling Crack to Minors

2007-12-23T10:07:00.000-08:00

A National Nitwit Exclusive Report
By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Frosty: A Drug-Addled Shadow of His Former Self

(Denver, CO)—A high-ranking source in the Denver Police Department has revealed exclusive details to the National Nitwit that show Frosty the Snowman, the once-hallowed Christmas icon, has been arrested on several narcotics charges and could face substantial jail time in 2008.

Some of the more dire allegations include possession of cocaine, marijuana, and methamphetamines; soliciting sex from an undercover police officer; spanking a rented mule within city limits; and perhaps most reviling, peddling crack in a drug-free school zone.

“This shit has gone on for too long,” screamed Theresa Miller, an exasperated parent in the Denver area. “All these celebrities act like they cares about our kids, and then boom: Britney turns out to be a nutcase, Mike Vick made dogs eat each other n’ shit, and now Frosty be gettin’ high with a bunch of fifth graders during recess. I tell you, the city of Denver can’t take much more of this. We done already lost Jake Plummer. Goddamn!”

Left: Corncob pipe won't work for this snow

Some critics of Christmas culture, however, say that Frosty’s downfall is part of a larger epidemic: the glorification of holiday myth.

“See, our society deifies characters such as Santa, Rudolph, and of course Frosty, but the legacy and limelight is almost impossible for them to live up to,” explained Dr. Frederich Numenbauer, a clinical psychologist specializing in the effects of fame. “They turn to sex, drugs, and spanking mules because it provides them, albeit fleetingly, a safety valve for all of their public anxieties. Or in layman’s terms, doing the same cartoon every Christmas for six decades will really fuck a snowman up.”

Like millions of Americans, Numenbauer must ultimately wait and see how this legal drama unfolds.

“I hope Frosty has some sort of spiritual reckoning, and spares the nation a long, embarrassing courtroom charade,” Numenbauer reflected. “Otherwise, much like the O.J. trial, we’re all going to eat dinner glued to our TV screens for months on end, hearing every obscene detail about how Frosty, while whacked out Quaaludes, spanked a rented mule on a downtown Denver street corner.”

Study Links Guitar Hero, Homoerotic Behavior

2007-12-18T15:30:00.000-08:00

A Canadian study examining the video game sensation Guitar Hero scans has uncovered intriguing new evidence that users of the music video games are likely to commit acts of homosexual behavior with each other.

"Homoerotic behavior turns out to be found in nearly 90 percent of users, heightening not only normal sexual interest but homosexual interest too," said Saul Roksoff, a psychologist at the Canadian Sex Research Forum, who conducted the study. "Our findings support an association between faux guitar straddling and the phenomenon known as the 'circle jerk,' as well as suggesting an entire panoply of homosexual activities, including fisting, oral sex, and a curious activity known among afficianados as the 'Dirty Sanchez.'"

The Guitar Hero series was developed by Harmonix Music Systems between 2005 to 2007 before development of the series was transferred to Neversoft, whose first effort, Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock was released in October 2007.

"Guitar Hero has been shown to enhance arousal and erection," noted Roksoff. "It is also possible that a response to homosexual stimuli in these men is a function of the threat condition rather than sexual arousal per se. Still, there is a clear association between the upward-pointing plastic-guitar-as-phallus and some latent urge to publicly flog another dude's manmeat."

One Guitar Hero user, known to researchers only by the alias "Kyle," explained the mechanism behind the process of sexual preference transfer.

"Me and my dude were just jamming away to the Van Halen song "Panama" when all of a sudden I looked down and saw Nate with this huge woodage," he explained, looking away. "It was like... like... we just had to go down on each other, slobbering away on each other's cocks as David Lee Roth grunted: 'Pistons popping, aint no stopping now!' Crazy shit, mister."

Better Let Me Outta This Damned Casket, or I'm About to Beat Your Ass

2007-12-15T12:32:00.000-08:00

Guest Editorial
by Ike Turner

Listen: I know y'all found me this morning in my home near San Diego, and I wasn't exactly what you might call "responsive" when the paramedics showed up.

And the whole defibriliatutiary deal, with the electric paddles and shit? I swear to God, that about knocked me across the room. How the hell's a brother supposed to look normal after taking 50,000 volts? That, and my 76-year-old self takes a few extra minutes to recover after a hard night of Hennessy, hoes, and blow, if you know what I mean. You think Keith Richards looks spiffy at 8-motherfuckin'-AM? I think not.

So you'd better open this motherfuckin' coffin, or I'm about to beat all your sorry asses.

But pronouncing my ass dead and stuffing me in a casket? That is some downright cold shit, if I might engage in the vernacular, people. Hell, I treated my motherfuckin' dog better than that, even when he took a bite out of my Grammy trophy last month.

So hear I sit in this aluminum coffin, colder than an Alaskan shithouse, hoping one of y'all will hear me as I pound on the lid harder than a right-cross upside an Ikette's beehive bouffant.

And I have to say: I expected a little more in the way of post-mortem accoutrements, right? All those gold and platinum records, making millions for the record companies, and y'all think you can stick Ike Wister Turner - The King of Rhythm - in a fucking tin can?

Shit. I get less respect than a truck stop hooker with a cold sore, and y'all better pray my angry ass don't find a way out this box.

Romney to Nation: “My Faith Fuels My Hate”

2007-12-12T13:57:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Romney: Sort of Like Reagan, But Worse

(Washington, D.C.)—Ever since addressing his Mormonism for the first time publicly last week, Republican presidential hopeful Mitt Romney has made an undeniably strong effort to send a new message about his campaign: his faith is the driving force behind his seething hatred for gays, illegals, free-thinkers and those with dark complexions.

“For months I have dodged questions about my Mormonism because I felt the tone or timing was inopportune,” Romney explained during a recent stump speech in Washington, D.C. “But now the moment has arrived, and I want to make it clear to all the fundamentalist whack-jobs of America that I am one of you, and that we can share the supple majesty of our hatred together.”

Romney did not merely limited himself to an emotional appeal, however, as he attempted a rational explanation for how his faith informed his conservative worldview.

“Because Joseph Smith found the golden tablets and used a Nancy Drew decoder ring to tell us how Jesus smoked peyote with the Navajo, I will do everything in my power to fuck over liberals, blacks, gays, academics, working class families, and of course, illegal immigrants,” Romney intoned. “So if you believe in this nation’s core values of corporate domination and fear-mongering, but also like to pray a lot, I would welcome your vote.”

Fuck It—Everyone’s Getting Gift Cards This Year

2007-12-08T12:02:00.000-08:00

A National Nitwit Guest Editorial
By Nancy McMullen, Baltimore Housewife

Sorry, Tyler: No Hess Truck from Mommy this Year

Every year’s the same: I scrimp and save starting in January, and try to stretch every penny for my holiday fund while Carl and the kids blow their spare cash on pizza night and X-Box. And every year I try to get everyone the perfect gift—or in the case of the kids, several perfect gifts—and just as quickly as the wrapping paper flies off, and they mutter “awesome, thanks mom,” they’ve already moved on to the next present.

So fuck it. This year, everyone’s getting gift cards, even if it ruins our precious family traditions.

I’ve always believed that gift cards were best reserved for co-workers and distant relations; the sort of people you know well enough to guess where they shop, but not well enough to take a gamble and buy junk they already have. Take my brother-in-law Marcus, for example. He’s lived in Tampa for the past six years, and only calls around birthdays and holidays. I know the guy is a huge movie buff, but how the hell should I know if he’s already got The Bourne Ultimatum or not? Boom--$50 gift card for Best Buy, and I’m on to the next name on my list.

Well, that’s how I used to feel. But not any more. Last year, I spent close to $1200 on the kids, and what did they get me? They pooled their lavish allowances for a free facial at the local beauty parlor. That’s it. No new slippers, no John Grisham novel. And don’t even get me started on Carl…I have so many $99 diamond pendants that my jewelry box is stuffed tighter than a Thanksgiving turkey.

So fuck Carl, fuck the kids, and fuck you if you think I’m wasting another holiday season driving to the mall everyday after work like some goddamn slave. This year I’m buying a shoebox full of gift cards, so maybe the McMullens can get off their lazy asses and do their own shopping for once.

Putin’s Party Wins in Landslide, President Remains Head Gangsta

2007-12-03T14:16:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Putin: A True OG, Straight Outta Kazan

(The Kremlin)—Russian president Vladimir Putin’s United Russia party won a massive parliamentary election Sunday morning, reestablishing his stranglehold on power in the shaky former Soviet Union.

Perhaps what is more significant, however, is Putin’s admittedly dubious leadership, which has allowed all manner of civil unrest, Mafioso crime syndicates, and cloak-and-dagger hits on oppositional voices to manifest on its watch, seemingly unchecked.

“You bitches seen the Godfather?” a tipsy Putin remarked on national television later Sunday afternoon. “Well, you illiterate vodka-swilling peasants might as well call my ass Brando, ‘cause I’ve consolidated power like a motherfucker. Holla.”

And while Mr. Putin’s constitutional term as president will conclude next spring, some pundits claim he has already begun his Stalin-esque campaign to remain in office indefinitely.

“I know, at least legally speaking, that my ass should step down n’ shit and become a CEO next year, content to spend my days bangin’ preteens from Siberia,” Putin further explained during his televised statement. “And yo, that would be aiiight if like, this motherfuckin’ nation didn’t need me to take the reigns so things didn’t get whack. But mark my words: whack be on the horizon, and I be the nigga to fuck its punk-ass up.”

Humpback Whales to Release Zeppelin Tribute Album

2007-11-26T12:57:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

The Mighty Humpback: On the Stairway to Success

(Washington, D.C.)—As the media hysteria about Led Zeppelin’s December 10th one-off reunion concert is reaching epic proportions, Atlantic Records announced yet another marketing ploy earlier this morning.

A group of humpback whales have recorded a Zeppelin tribute album, which will hit stores just in time for the holiday season.

“All of our Zeppelin favorites are rerecorded on this wonderfully eclectic new disc,” beamed Jon Richards, a senior publicist for Atlantic. “From ‘Immigrant Song’ to ‘Whole Lotta Love,’ this CD has them all, arranged especially for the majestic moaning of the humpback in heat. My personal favorite is the touching rendition of ‘Going to California,’ which sounds breathtaking even without the mandolin.”

Some critics, however, have decried this move as nothing short of a shameless attempt to exploit the legacy of a rock music icon.

Led Zeppelin: The Scam Remains the Same

“Led Zeppelin has been defunct for nearly three decades, and it’s bad enough this reunion is going to be a complete disappointment,” remarked Stan Jacobs, a freelance reporter for Rolling Stone magazine. “But now there’s another ‘Best Of’ collection, all sorts of merchandizing crap to sell t-shirts at your local mall, and finally this goddamn album of whale farts. Anyone who can listen to a nine-minute humpback version of ‘Dazed and Confused’ deserves to have their balls cut off and eaten by a puma.”

Study Finds Best Marriages Marked by Substance Abuse, Adultery

2007-11-21T09:56:00.000-08:00

A National Nitwit Exclusive Report
By Billy Pilgrim, Rogue Editor

Newlywed Bliss: A Drug-Addled Sex-Crazed Lie

The results of a recent National Institute of Health study were released earlier this morning concerning the state of American marriages, and after surveying more than 10,000 couples, one truth has become undeniably clear.

The happiest couples are those that engage in habitual substance abuse and extramarital affairs.

“How ironic is it that our society champions communication and honesty, when really it is calculated deceit and manipulation that ensures longevity in the marital bond,” remarked Cynthia Pennett, a leading NIH spokesperson. “In fact, I’d be offended on a personal level if I didn’t believe the shit to be true myself—my husband has a coke habit and I’ve slept with three different co-workers in the back of my Accord, so yeah, this study is spot-on.”

Others in the medical field reiterated Pennett’s candid assessment of prolonged commitment.

“While most Americans believe they have a soul mate somewhere out there, very few actually marry that individual,” explained Dr. Dan Whittier, Professor of Psychology at Yale University. “Essentially, most of us end up marrying someone we like and respect, but that only gets you so far. For example, I truly love my wife Rebecca, but it takes two stiff bourbons every night just to get through her excruciating dinner banter. If I have to hear about Sasha—that gay mail guy at her office—and his whacky wardrobe one more fucking time, I’m going to hang myself in the shower.”

So as the first decade of the twenty-first century draws ever closer to its ultimate conclusion, it remains unclear what the future may hold for monogamous matrimony.

Foster: No Stranger to the Soothing Caress of a Lesbian Stranger

“My husband Joe ain’t a bad guy, but he smoke him some dope now and then,” remarked Keesha Foster, an administrative assistant in downtown Harlem. “But you know, sometimes when life really get me down, and things seem all bleak, I let that dike Melissa from the third floor finger me in the supply room, and that always make it easier to face the long drive home.”

Musharraf to World: “Suck a Cheetah’s Dick”

2007-11-16T19:14:00.000-08:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Musharraf: Kind of Like Saddam, Without the Oil

(Islamabad)—President Pervez Musharraf, whose recent instatement of martial law has led many to question the integrity of Pakistan’s wavering democracy, offered a stern message to Western governments earlier this morning.

“For those who would challenge my faith in Allah and attack my reputation as a leader of men, I offer the following statement,” Musharraf shouted into his podium’s bouquet of microphones. “Take a bottle of mustard, squirt it on the erect dong of a cheetah, and suck unless his sour feline cum fills your heathen mouth.”

Musharraf continued to denounce American and British criticism of his maverick coup, and sternly pushed his rhetoric of nationalistic pride.

“Pakistan is rising as a global power, that much is undeniable,” Musharraf passionately intoned. “And for those who doubt this great country, or my sovereign power as its president, you should take a stale bottle of pickle relish, slather it on the shaft of a ravenous jungle cat, and wait for his baby gravy to burst in your jowls.”

Musharraf ended with a rousing call for support from his party’s bedrock.

“Some may say I am a thug, a double-faced conniver who merely plays the political field to his daily advantage,” Musharraf boomed. “To those who would propagate such baseless accusations, I say and say again: baste a quart of Balochi potato salad on a cheetah’s throbbing member, and gag it down until your throat fills with the frothy shame of animal jizz.”

Serial Killer Unhappy With Local Dumping Ordinances

2007-11-12T17:43:00.000-08:00

(Dallas, TX) A Dallas-area serial killer, whose preferred method of victim disposal involves vacant lots, told reporters today that municipalities in the Dallas-Fort Worth area have created "uneccessarily restrictve ordinances" that unfairly target small entrepreneurs.

Marshall Sheehan, of Plano, conveyed his dissatisfaction with such laws to a small media gathering today.

"Council members claim that pollution is causing an increasing number of children to suffer asthma attacks. This connection, however, cannot be supported by any data," he said, motioning across the empty lot. "Politicians who make these claims are engaging in scaremongering simply to promote a political agenda, bringing economic harm to businessmen like me."

Sheehan argued that his "disposal business" is an integral part of the local economy.

"I remove unproductive elements from society, like hookers and homeless dudes, and recycle organic material back into the earth," he maintained. "And who else keeps local poducers of trash bags and bleach as busy as a serial killer?"

Sheehan added that many local businesses fear that restrictive pollution laws will saddle them with unachievable goals and ultimately drive businesses away, with jobs and money flowing to states and countries that do not "fleece the producers."

"These petty laws hhurt our state's global competitiveness, drive out businesses and jobs, and put our whole economy at risk for little to no benefit," he noted. "And contrary to popular belief, most small business owners are not exactly making a killing in their work. Heh. Killing. Kind of funny, that."

With Just a Red Kettle and a Bell, I Can Make Every Day a Payday

2007-11-10T18:03:00.000-08:00

Guest editorial by Monte Milliken,
Marketing consultant

Friend, I'm writing to share with you an overlooked money-making secret that anyone can do, whether part-time or full-time. You don't need a fancy college degree to do this, and you don't need any extra money or credit to get started.

My money-making system can put an extra $2,000 to $5,000 or more in your pocket. You might even shovel in up to $20,000 or more, every single month. It's simply amazing.

It's called "Kettle Magic," and even a complete moron can scoop up fast cash. Here's how it started:

I was struggling, working three jobs, barely scraping by. Then one day we saw an old friend - let's call him "Bob" - at the mall. He was smiling, and ringing this shiny bell, and people were literally throwing money at Bob, who talked about some army that acted as the middleman for this business.

You know what they say about middlemen, right?

Since I got my own kettle and bell, I am wearing nice, new clothes. I am driving a shiny new, black Mercedes. And you could tell things were different for me: I look confident, and I look like money!

For $49.95 I will send you all you need to get started. You will get the opportunity to start your own Kettle Magic franchise: you can be your own boss, you keep all your profits, and you decide when and where to do business. All you have to do is place your order and I will have the startup kit sent to you, and you will be on your way to achieving your financial independence.

Acid Stain Crisis a Challenge for Underwear Makers

2007-11-06T13:18:00.000-08:00

(Washington, DC) Representatives from the nation's undergarment manufacturers met with environmental groups today to address a looming catastrophe: the phenomenon known as acid stain.

Simply put, "acid stain" results from the transformation of sulphur dioxide (SO2) and nitrogen oxides into dry or moist secondary pollutants such as sulphuric acid (H2SO4), ammonium nitrate (NH4NO3) and nitric acid (HNO3) through particularly noxious rectal discharge, resulting in acidic compounds that eat through all current clothing materials used in underwear.

"Acid rain is a problem in undergarments because all of the known undergarment materials lack natural alkalinity," said Lance Boyle, a spokesman for the industry consortium GASS (Getting Acid Stain Synthetics). "Cotton and nylon are hardest hit because their weak fibers cannot fight the damaging consequences of acid stain, with the result that millions of Americans are walking around with the holey underwear their mothers warned them about."

Sulphur dioxide is generally a byproduct of industrial processes and burning of fossil fuels, but consumer diets rich in fast foods and low-quality beer are believed to be a hidden menace to SO2 levels. In 2006, U.S. SO2 emissions from human flatulence were measured at 14.8 million tons.

"We are literally burning holes in our own underwear," said Mitch Ripping, a spokesman for Greenpeace USA. "The main threat of an acid stain disaster springs from our heavy dependence on Taco Bell as a late night destination. Unfortunately, Americans are not willing to make the lifestyle changes necessary to reign in this looming catastrophe."

Ripping added that the effects of acid stain are not merely limited to the individual creator of the acidic ass trumpets.

"Second-hand acid stain is just as destructive as first-generation caustic gasses," he noted. "You can be minding your own business, eating healthy, and totally oblivious to the fact that the selfish twit next to you on the bus is generating lethal crop dusters capable of scorching right through your new Joe Boxers. Sad, really."

Important Thinkery

2007-11-06T13:00:00.000-08:00

"Don't let the spangled dragons of bloodwhirl crucify the neon."

--Billy Pilgrim to Jim Morrison, on the ocassion of his first acid trip; Whiskey A-Go-Go, 1967

"Important Thinkery" is an occasional feature on this site, and is usually indicative of a writer who has little to offer beyond a sentence. Pretty pathetic, really, but it's not like you are paying for this content, Bubba.

Verizon Guy Laments the Loss of His Soul

2007-11-03T17:35:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Verizon Guy: Prays for Death Daily

(New York)—The bespectacled 30-something lad commonly known as “that Verizon guy” lamented the loss of his soul earlier this afternoon on a busy New York sidewalk.

Gene McCormack, 36, was an out-of-work actor before landing “a sweet-ass gig” as the anonymously coy Verizon pitchman, whose conspicuous placement in every televised ad for the cell giant has led, in no small part, to their utter dominance of the market.

But McCormack has grown increasingly sour with the idea of his face being synonymous with a corporate brand.

“You know, I can’t even buy milk anymore without some random fuck going ‘hey, you’re that Verizon guy, aren’t you?’” McCormack remarked while removing the lid from his freshly purchased coffee, hoping it would cool. “I always say, ‘yeah, that’s me,’ and then the conversation fizzles into a prolonged awkward pause, because we both realize I’m just a dude in a workman’s shirt who peddles cell phones in commercials, and occasionally offers a wry smile to the camera. It’s times like that I wish my Jew-bitch of a mother had an abortion.”

Britney Spears’ Vagina Declared a National Biohazard

2007-10-30T17:23:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Exclusive Report
By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Spears: Her Snatch Is a Toxic Wasteland

(Washington, D.C.)—After a failed marriage, an abysmal career comeback, and an erratic, drug-addled lifestyle that has resulted in the loss of her two young children, it would appear that pop star Britney Spears’ life couldn’t get worse.

That was until this morning, however, when the National Institute for Health deemed Spears’ vagina a national biohazard, and stringently recommended that it be avoided at all costs.

“After extensive biological analysis and a meticulous battery of tests, we have ruled Britney Spears’ vagina a hazard to man and beast alike,” remarked Frank Vespano, NIH spokesperson, during a packed news conference earlier this morning. “It is a foul, odious, ungodly stink-hole, and will destroy anyone who ventures its cavernous depths.”

Vespano outlined the physical and emotional ravages Spears’ vagina posed to the American populous.

“We have received initial reports alleging the vagina has bitten the heads off seventeen penile shafts, and rendered one victim’s left hand deformed beyond reckoning,” Vespano soberly intoned. “And these horrific encounters are not merely limited to random hook-ups with Olsen twin bodyguards. Just yesterday we received an anonymous tip from a bi-curious coed whose tongue turned the color of pea soup before it fell off entirely.”

Citizens were warned that even the slightest interaction with the vagina could result in irreparable damage.

“Some of you are probably thinking ‘oh, it couldn’t be that bad—what harm could come from an over-the-panties clit rub?’” Vespano poignantly noted. “Well, go ahead then, if you are willing to lose two moistened fingers and your soul. No encounter is too brief—not even a drunken dry hump in the backseat of an Escalade.”

California Boy Mourns Treehouse Porn Lost in Blaze

2007-10-26T14:26:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

An Inconsolable Mavis Chokes Back the Tears

(San Bernardino County, CA)—As California wildfires continue to ravage home and forest alike for the sixth consecutive day, twelve year-old Trevor Mavis is enduring his own personal loss.

His collection of pornographic magazines, conspicuously hidden in his treehouse, has been lost to the onslaught of smoke and flame.

“We live away from the city and have a pretty big yard,” Mavis recounted in a slow, belabored voice while staring stoically into the horizon. “I guess I should say HAD. We lost the house and all our stuff, and that’s sad n’ all, but the treehouse…I’ll put it this way: I had 27 copies of Playboy. I don’t have 27 t-shirts. Jimmy Richards, the rich kid in my class, doesn’t even have 27 X-Box games. That treehouse was a treasure trove of boob, straight up.”

Mavis went on to note that his loss was insignificant compared to the seven lives lost thus far, but that it gave him little comfort to think of what the future may hold after the blaze subsides.

“I guess it hasn’t really hit me yet, ‘cause we’re living in this shelter and there are all these hot bitches from the Red Cross and National Guard, not to mention the college girls volunteering,” Mavis pondered. “But at some point we’re gonna have to return. And I’ll see that treehouse, that place I learned about three-ways and female ejaculation, all burned to ash…[pause]…that’s all I got, man. Let’s stop this interview.”

David Copperfield to Fans: “This FBI Investigation is an Illusion”

2007-10-22T08:49:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Special Report
By Billy Pilgrim, Rogue Editor

(Los Angeles)—Famed magician David Copperfield has become the center of a whirlwind FBI investigation in recent days that has resulted in the cancellation of his current tour and the seizure of millions of dollars in personal assets.

Copperfield: Can’t Keep Those Magic Hands to Himself

And while some claim the impetus is a rather serious allegation of sexual misconduct, Copperfield himself announced today that the entire legal inquest is, in fact, his most recent magical exhibition.

“Watch as the FBI seizes my passport and combs my hard drive for any shred of evidence,” Copperfield charismatically intoned during a press conference earlier this morning. “You can plainly see there is nothing up my sleeves, nor any wires or pulleys, and yet soon—quite soon, in fact—my reputation will be jeopardy once the details of this investigation hit newsstands. But know that this is all my doing! You are baring witness to the greatest magic trick the world has ever seen!”

Copperfield continued to emphatically explain how these seemingly detrimental charges of misconduct were actually a carefully orchestrated performance.

“Any magician can saw a woman in half, or make a flock of doves appear out of thin air,” Copperfield calmly reflected. “But it takes a magician of profound skill indeed to let the world witness his utter embarrassment and ridicule, only to be triumph in the end, and have the entire drama be an illusion of his own making! And think, not a single ticket sold! This entire show is free for the world to see, and I, David Copperfield, have made you all believe!”

Liberal Yuppie “Totally Peeved” by NPR’s Annual Pledge Drive

2007-10-17T08:28:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Walsh: Young, Hip, and Stingy as Hell

(Washington, D.C.)—Ian Walsh, a self-described “latte slurping eco-hipster,” has been a lifelong fan of National Public Radio’s left-of-center investigative reporting and quirky personal-interest stories.

But nothing riles Walsh more than NPR’s annual campaign to raise membership and funding, and this year he claims it’s hit an all-time low.

“Like all loyal listeners, I know NPR needs funding to keep innovative programming alive,” Walsh remarked while finishing his most recent blog entry on his leather futon. “But come on—last night they interrupted a report about fish hatcheries in Indonesia, and this morning a piece about German hostels was cut short…I NEED this news, people, not your bitch-and-moan spiel about listener support yada yada.”

Walsh sipped some steaming chi tea and completed a brief yoga stretch before continuing.

“The whole reason I listen to NPR is because they, like, get me and stuff. And I gave them $20 back in ’02 or ’03, so there’s no reason to guilt trip a dude into shelling out his Discover Card,” Walsh remarked. “But I’m sorry—when there’s a gripping narrative about a blind girl in Madagascar making belts out of turtle shells, and you follow that with some Donation Power Hour, it really makes me question the emotional integrity of my local station.”

Infertile Couple Finds Pooch a "Lame Surrogate" for a Baby

2007-10-16T14:31:00.000-07:00

Left: Border collie not their key to happiness

(DeKalb, IL) After eleven years of fruitless efforts trying to conceive, Phil and Barbara Kellerman thought that they would try a different path to fulfill their parental urges.

"We brought [border collie] Mitzi home about six years ago," said Barbara, opening a photo album of the dog's first year. "Things seemed fine at first, but deep inside I knew that the dog could never really replace a real baby."

Phil believes that things "really went downhill" for the three of them when Mitzi was about 10 months old.

"Right about when Mitzi first went into heat, she and Barbara stopped getting along," he said, scratching his head. "Then right off Barbara took the dog in to get it spayed. She didn't even ask me about it. I can't help but think she was jealous of the poor dog."

Left: Mitzi wonders how it went so wrong so fast

Phil said that he really feels bad for the resentment that Mitzi has faced.

"It's not like it's the dog's fault or anything," he said. "But when I bring up to Barbara what a - well, total bitch she is to the stupid dog - she tells me that me and Mitzi ought to pack our bags and move out. I wish to God we had just gotten a couple of fish like I wanted, or maybe just a Chia pet."

Gore to Bush: “Booyah Fuckface, I Won the Nobel!”

2007-10-12T17:10:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Special Report
By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

(Washington, D.C.)—To the utter surprise of political pundits and journalists around the world, former Vice President Al Gore was among a United Nations team of climate change activists who won the Nobel Peace Prize earlier this morning.

But perhaps what is even more remarkable was Gore’s “ghetto-flavored response,” which was littered with expletives and derogatory remarks leveled against President George Bush.

A Vindicated Gore: Fouler Than a Truck Stop Toilet Seat

“I’ve had to look at this dumb-ass nigga for eight years, knowing he took my motherfuckin’ job n’ shit,” Gore remarked while swilling a massive bottle of Courvoisier cognac straight-up behind an elaborately decorated podium. “But I guess he got to rec-og-nize now, son! His approval ratings are lower than Nixon’s during Watergate, and my ass just won the most prestigious motherfuckin’ humanitarian award there is. Holla!”

Gore continued to celebrate despite his increasing level of inebriation.

“Where’s that Jenna Bush ho at?” Gore slurred while tugging at his belt buckle and swaying wildly. “Y’all seen that bitch, right? Goddamn shorty lookin’ good! If she be here, I swear I’d put a tube of Vaseline on her ass and pound until her eyes popped out, right in front of all these motherfuckin’ cameras. Now somebody call Papa John’s--daddy needs to feed.”

If Hitler Was Alive, He’d Be a Cowboys Fan

2007-10-08T13:53:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Guest Editorial
By Frank O’Riley, Diehard Washington Redskins Fan

O’Riley: His Rosacea Matches His Burgundy Jersey

On Sunday, the greatest team to ever play the game of football — the Washington Redskins —
trounced the Detroit Lions 34-3 in an ass-pounding blowout. But there are some jagoffs out there who still think those soulless, cum-gurgling Cowboys and their golden boy Tony Romo are the NFC’s best team.

You know what, though? If Hitler was alive today, he’d be a Cowboys fan, and that would be just another reason to invade Europe and kick his Nazi ass all over again.

How do I know Hitler would be a Cowboys fan? Tons of reasons. For starters, the Cowboys have always played their brand of thug ball, just like those goose-stepping fuck-bags who threw all those innocent Jews into death camps and shit. Roger Staubach? Thug. Troy Aikman? Super Thug. Michael Irvin? Worst. Thug. Ever. I could just see that loud-mouth bastard gassing a whole room of naked shivering preteens without an ounce of remorse, because that’s how he played on the field every goddamn Sunday.

And don’t get me started on the Cowboys uniform. I mean, they have a star on their helmets for Chrissakes! They openly mock the Holocaust as if it never happened n’ shit. I mean, I’m no Jew, but c’mon…what kind of heartless scat-muncher plays four quarters of pigskin while simultaneously tainting the memory of twelve million mass-murder victims?

If Hitler was alive, he’d have season tickets on the fifty yard line, rooting for these mung-slurping hillbilly rejects every time they made a play. I can just see him now, with that little faggot mustache of his, screaming his crazy guttural German each time Romo wiggled his girlie ass up to the line of scrimmage to make another limp-wristed screen pass.

So week in and week out, I root for my ‘Skins, but I also root for whoever is playing the fucking Cowboys, because it’s not just about football—it’s about freedom, and Jesus, and whatever beer happens to be Dollar Draft of the Week.

With Impending Execution, Chemical Ali Regrets Shitty Nickname

2007-10-05T09:54:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Ali: a My Chemical Romance Fan, Perhaps?

(Baghdad, Iraq)—Ali Hassan Abd al-Majid al-Tikriti, commonly known to Westerners as “Chemical Ali,” announced earlier this morning that he “utterly fucking regretted” his “retarded-ass nickname,” as his internationally-sanctioned execution for war crimes draws ever closer on Thursday, October 4.

The former Ba’athist Defense Minister—who was also a first cousin of Saddam Hussein’s—has been implicated in countless death squads and unconscionable political dealings, which have resulted in his impending hanging.

And yet, it seems Ali is most concerned with his nickname at this critical juncture in his swiftly-diminishing life.

“How many famous dictator underlings can you remember with bullshit nicknames like ‘Chemical’? I can tell you: fucking none, pal,” Ali bemoaned from his jail cell in an exclusive interview with the National Nitwit. “Sure, maybe it was cool a decade ago when I sounded like a rapper, but now it’s just straight-up lame. I mean, would [Nazi mastermind] Goebbels have ever gone by ‘Propaganda Joe,’ or [Marxist revolutionary] Trotsky let people call him ‘Commie Leon’?”

Ali continued to highlight how his legacy as a mass-murder and tyrant lapdog would be tarnished by his lack of a dignified moniker.

“You’d think after gassing a few thousand innocent civilians in my life, they could call me something cool, like ‘The Butcher of Basra’ or ‘Kurd Killer,’ but it looks like I’m stuck with this shitty shit,” Ali chided as the faint slap of solitaire drifted through the phone receiver. “I tell you what though—when they publish my private diaries years from now, the world will know all the great names I never had. And maybe, just maybe, history will know me as ‘The Tikrit Time Bomb’ after all.”

If I Had Been in 'Nam, I Damned Sure Wouldn't Have Turned Out Batshit-Crazy Like All Those Psycho Vets

2007-10-01T06:57:00.000-07:00

Guest editorial by Paul Dresden, motivational speaker

In the late 1960s I was a young man looking for his calling in life. A severe case of recessed arches kept me from serving this great country overseas, and I was depressed that I had to remain on the homefront while others made the ultimate sacrifice for the America.

But as I look back on that time, I see thousands of Vietnam vets who are having themselves a huge pity party over their experiences. Guys who get up in the morning and tell themselves that seeing some gook's head getting blown off by an M-16 is going to define them, guys who allow themselves to be caged like scared little rabbits just because they lost a limb in some war.

You see, if I had ever served in 'Nam, you can be damned sure I wouldn't have turned out batshit-crazy. You can learn more about my award-winning technique with my "10 Simple Steps to Instant Success, Inner Strength, and Dynamic Network Marketing" tapes.

It's like this: each one of us in the world are here to learn necessary lessons. Some of these lessons require strength to survive, while others require dicipline to stay commited and focused during that lesson. Through my personal growth system, I have developed the inner strength I need to survive these hard lessons and the discipline needed to remain focused, and to return to my laser-beam focus when I get knocked around by life.

But these 'Nam vets who haven't developed that inner strength are letting the past hold them down. Sometimes, you know you should go for a walk, because it's good for your health and makes you feel great afterwards, but you get lazy and watch TV instead.

It's like that with these crazy 'Nam vets - they're basically lazy people who haven't developed the inner strength to deal with memories of babies being burnt or 14-year-old girls getting raped by the platoon leader. If these loony bastards would just buy my "10 Simple Steps to Instant Success, Inner Strength, and Dynamic Network Marketing" tapes, they could tap the secrets of Fortune 500 executives at the top of their game in the vicious jungle that is Corporate America.

Many of the difficulties people encounter through life often seem bigger than they really are. If you just step back and evaluate it from a different perspective, you'll find the solution is right there in front of you. Those nightmares of that old lady getting her throat slit by the psycho radio man in Bravo Company can be overcome by a mind that is well nourished with positive thoughts, if you just let it happen.

These nutjob 'Nam vets could find success and happiness if they just took advantage of a program like my "10 Simple Steps to Instant Success, Inner Strength, and Dynamic Network Marketing" tapes. And remember: to make it real, you have to believe it, mister. That's a freebie. For the rest, you'll have to purchase my tapes. A guy's gotta eat, right?

Texas Serial Killer Sings Praises of Home Depot

2007-09-29T14:23:00.000-07:00

(Dallas, TX) A Dallas-area serial killer, whose preparation for previous murders found him visiting multiple hardware stores, told reporters today that home improvement megastore Home Depot "flat-out puts the competition to shame."

Marshall Sheehan, of Plano, expressed his satisfaction with the international retailer.

"When I killed that housewife in Arlington last year, I had to go to five different places before I found the kind of tarp I wanted," he recalled. "A guy like me doesn't need that kind of face time, you know? Home Depot lets me get right in and right the hell out without getting noticed."

Sheehan said that the store's diverse inventory is also an important factor.

"A guy could wear himself out trying to cut femurs with the type of hacksaws or wood-cutter saws you get at most hardware stores," he said. "Home Depot has an excellent collection of heavy duty professional bone cutting saws with replaceable 18-1/2" blades that work beautifully, even on the most wriggly and uncooperative duct-taped victims."

Among the items Sheehan recently found in the 140,000-square foot Home Depot Supercenter were tanning supplies.

"They had this polymerized aluminum salt concoction that eliminated the problems associated with traditional tannins, like short shelf life and lack of skin stretch," he said. "After I carved up this real estate agent I kidnapped last month near McKinney, I couldn't believe the nice, white-colored skin that I wound up with. It had excellent stretch and was pliable, just perfect for mounting on my trophy wall. Bitch almost looked likelike, except for the fact that her head and torso were on opposite sides of the den. Heh."

Fred Thompson Selects Team of Jewish Writers as Running Mates

2007-09-25T17:17:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Thompson: Calm, Collected, and as Witless as a Drunk Badger

(Washington, D.C.)—Fred Thompson, the former dark horse Senator and Law & Order star whose recent presidential candidacy has shaken the Republican party, make a shocking announcement this morning when he announced that a team of eight Jewish script writers would collectively serve as his vice presidential running mate.

“I know this may seem unprecedented,” Thompson calmly explained to a packed room of reporters in his warm Southern drawl. “But after great deliberation, and the realization that I say some pretty dumb shit when I go off-script, I’ve decided these Heeb writers are the best choice for my candidacy as well as the American people.”

Thompson, who served a nine-year stint as a Tennessee senator and has played District Attorney Arthur Branch on Law & Order for nearly half a decade, has drawn many warranted comparisons to Ronald Reagan.

Unlike Reagan, however, Thompson refuses to choose a single running mate, and his rogue tactics may prove unsettling for many conservative voters.

“I know what you’re thinking—this goes against tradition and the Constitution, yada yada. But I’ve got news for you,” Thompson intoned as he straightened his towering frame and shook his right fist. “If Al Qaeda strikes and one of these matzah-chomping Hofstra grads dies in the attack, there’s seven more just like ‘em. And they’re not gonna be sitting around pissing and whining like Al Gore. No sir. They’ll be writing my next great speech, getting my laundry, waxing my shoes, and maybe if time allows they can finish the sequel to The Hunt for Red October.”

Dead Hooker in Freezer Chilling Couple's Relationship

2007-09-21T09:34:00.001-07:00

(Indianapolis, IN) Rebecca Gottschalk says that she is "not a prude," but the dead hooker her husband Mark keeps in the basement freezer "has got to go."

"Look - when he was in college, the dead hooker was kind of a joke for him and his friends. Back then, he just had a couch, a big screen, a refrigerator, and the dead hooker in the freezer," she recalled. "It was a total bachelor pad, but the time has come for Mark to grow up and get rid of his dead hooker."

Mrs. Gottschalk said that she is worried about the impression the frozen dead hooker will leave with the couple's two sons, ages 4 and 6.

"Kids are impressionable - they mimic what you do. That's why it's important for them not to see their dad staring at a dead hooker in the freezer," she said. "Already Sean and Harley are asking if they can have their own dead hooker. I tell you - how can you say "no" when Daddy has one?"

Left: Gottschalk laying down the law on the dead hooker in the freezer

The "tipping point" in the dead hooker debate, said Gottschalk, occurred after a recent prank played by her husband Mark.

"It was about midnight, and I crawled into bed. I felt something cold, and when I turned on the light, there was the head of the dead hooker, frozen eyes staring right at me," she said. "Now, I don't have to tell you it scared me silly, seeing a dead hooker's sawed-off head on the pillow next to me. So I told Mark it's either me or the dead hooker, and that he had one week to dump the rest of her remains in the creek. Am I being unreasonable? I think not."

Frankie Muniz Still Looks Like That

2007-09-20T14:12:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Investigative Report

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Muniz: Could Pass for a Middle School Hall Monitor

(Los Angeles, CA)—Frankie Muniz, the loveable child star of the long-running Fox hit “Malcolm in the Middle” and tweenie films such as “Agent Cody Banks” still looks like a prepubescent elf despite the fast-lane lifestyle of Hollywood stardom.

And with his 22nd birthday swiftly approaching in December, Muniz may ultimately resign himself to that sad cavalcade of ageless child stars that includes Ralph Macchio and Gary Coleman, among others.

“I’m sure this Muniz schmuck is enjoying the torrid escapades of a B-list celebrity, but oi, it must suck going through life looking like that,” remarked Saul Barowitz, a prominent casting director in the greater Los Angeles area. “I mean, can you imagine the poor whores who have to bang this guy every week? They must feel like they’re raping a hobbit every time they climb on top.”

Other Hollywood insiders echoed Barowitz’s analysis of Muniz’s career and dwindling career options.

“On average, I talk to seven different producers a day, and I can’t think of anybody who needs man-child to star opposite a talking dog right now,” explained Kathy Vermeer, an agent specializing in family films. “If Muniz had the acting chops of Leonardo DiCaprio, then sure, the world could wait a decade for his voice to drop and see the first signs of chin scruff. But as it stands…let’s just hope he invested that Malcolm money, because his ass could be doing a production of My Fair Lady in Scranton if he doesn’t grow a pair.”

Advice: Ask an Intern with Sensitive Data on His Laptop

2007-09-17T05:26:00.000-07:00

Advice and thoughts from state government intern Jacob Henderson.

Dear Intern with Sensitive Data on His Laptop:
My husband spends a lot of time away from home, and I am beginning to wonder if there is something "going on." He also makes a lot of late night calls on his cell phone, and had his phone bill sent to his office. Am I missing something? Carol in Syracuse, NY

Dear Sharon:
Let's see, I think I'll have the double caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream... no... maybe I'll have one of those frozen coffee drinks instead... Dang! I left my money on the dresser. I guess it's just a cup of regular coffee, since I only have change on me. Wait a minute - did I bring my laptop with me, or leave it on the front seat of my car? Shoot!

Dear Intern with Sensitive Data on His Laptop:
My 18-year-old son told us that he is gay, and that he wants to move in with his boyfriend. My husband thinks that this is all just a phase, and that he will grow out of it. I'm not so sure, since I caught him wearing his sister's makeup when he was two. Help! Carly and Ken in Westland, MI

Dear Carly and Ken:
Darn it! No hot water in this bathroom, and the soap dispenser is out. Guess I'll have to wipe my hands on toilet paper, that is if there is any in these stalls. Nope! Guess I'll have to get some napkins from the Starbuck's in the concourse. Now, let me think - did I bring my laptop with me into the bathroom, or did I leave it with Kyle over by the Southwest Airlines gate? Sheesh - I'm such a forgetful doofus today!

Dear Intern with Sensitive Data on His Laptop:
My husband does this really gross thing when he gets up in the morning. He turns over in bed, horks up this disgusting mass of phlegm, and spits it into a cup. Then it stays there until I clean it up! I am going crazy here! Beth in Redlands, CA

Dear Beth:
Phew! Finally we are on the plane. It took forever to get through screening, and all we are doing is flying domestic! I can't imagine what it would be like to fly on a foreign flight these days, what with all the extra security. Think I'll play a little Solitaire on my laptop while I am on the flight. Oops! I thought I brought it with me, but I grabbed my briefcase instead. Now did I put my laptop in the overhead, or did I send it with my luggage? Well, I guess I'll have to read one of these boring in-flight magazines until we get back to Columbus. Boy, I think I would actually lose my entire head if it weren't attached by bones and muscles and skin and stuff.

Alan Greenspan: "Iraq Was All About Da Bitches"

2007-09-16T17:57:00.000-07:00

(Washington, DC) Former Federal Reserve chairman Alan Greenspan, for years an inscrutable seer on the economy, is causing a stir by alleging in his new memoir that "the Iraq war is largely about Iraqi hoes."

"Straight up - Bush and Cheney be all about da bitches, fo-shizzle," Greensapn noted. " Cuz when da bitch cuts off yo dick, da face jus be gettin all rusty and shit. And dat shit don't matta whens y'all gots anutha place ta go fo' a good blow. Like Iraq."

Greenspan, who as chairman of the Fed was famous for his tight-lipped reserve, was quite blunt toward the Bush administration in his book The Age of Turbulence: Adventures in a New World.

"A-i-i-e-e-t. I ain't no fuckin' Bush pimp. I knows he wanta be a boomin bitch, but still nobody be diggin' yo nasty funk," he said. "Maybe he jus a crusty ho. Maybe he got da bootie drought 'cause no sista be wantin ta grind his flat-ass, gristley-legged, nasty piece o' Robyn Hoke - got no poke, skank President ass. Only a stupid bitch like Bush be askin' what da hold up is. Jus look in da mirra, y'all."

Greenspan issued a challenge to administration officials who "think they all bad and shit."

"Dont fuck wit dis nigga, I bust yo ass up," he intoned. "Pimp G say we all got the Lexus with tha grill, we commin to kill so when G come to town we got tha trill. Out."

Larry Craig: Aesthetics More Important Than Restroom Sex

2007-09-15T16:29:00.000-07:00

(Washington, DC)Embattled Senator Larry Craig, fighting to overturn a conviction in a restroom sex sting, spoke out against accusations that public bathrooms represent nothing more for him than gay sexual encounters.

"Look - for me, there's a lot more happening in your average public restroom than just an anonymous blowjob from a traveling salesman," he noted. "I especially enjoy the smells, like that musky smell of another man's sweaty crotch as I gobble his manmeat."

Craig said that American public restrooms offer "an aesthetic smorgasbord" for the discriminating traveler.

"Take, for example, the acoustics in a terracotta tiled bathroom," he mused. "When I am shooting my wad on some 21-year-old guy's naked back, you can hear the echoed drips as though they were amplified, and there is a particularly gratifying sonic signature to another man's grunt as I drill him in the ass."

There is more to a good public restroom than sounds and smells, added Craig.

"When my perspiration-drenched face is pressed against a cold restroom mirror as some trucker is stuffing my bunghole with his cock, I swear I am almost in paradise," he recalled. "And when I have my tongue shoved halfway up some intern's cum-drenched asshole, let's just say that this is a taste sensation you can never duplicate in the honeymoon suite of the Hilton."

VMAs Once Again Celebrate the Inanity of Pop Music

2007-09-11T05:27:00.000-07:00

A National Nitwit Special Report

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

(Los Vegas, NV)—From Britney’s botched lip-synch comeback to a brawl between Tommy Lee and Kid Rock, MTV’s perennial Music Video Awards once again elevated the obtuse spectacle of celebridom on Sunday, further obliterating the channel’s once fervent legacy to cutting edge rock and hip-hop.

Beauty and the Beast on the VMA Red Carpet

“Yeah, I mean, some music got played n’ stuff, but I spent most of the night looking at people’s clothes,” remarked Tina Biggs, a Vegas floozy whose production assistant boyfriend was busy attending to Kanye West’s fickle diet. “That, and about fifteen minutes in I did four lines of coke, so I don’t remember much anyway. But there were a lot of famous people. And sparkles.”

Timbaland was one of the nights few highlights, as he won four awards in various categories and beseeched MTV to play more videos and less low-brow reality programming.

But overall, the evening was another self-congratulatory celebration of all things glitz and glamour.

“You know, I spent thirty hours setting up speakers and mixing boards, and now that this shit is over, I get to stay here and coil cable until 4 a.m.,” huffed Frank DeCurso, an MTV sound engineer. “Whatever happened to Three Dog Night and the Allman Brothers? If I have to hear another fucking rapper spit ‘YEAH UH UH’ into an $800 Shure [microphone], I’m going back to Circuit City.”

K-9 Cop Overly Proud of Dog's Heroics

2007-09-09T08:57:00.000-07:00

By Billy Pilgrim, National Nitwit Rogue Editor

Bukowski and Scooter: Hetero Life Partners

(Chicago, IL) K-9 Unit officer Rowland Bukowski has enjoyed an impeccable seven-year stint with the Chicago Police Department, and has been a shining example of professionalism and courage to many new recruits.

However, a growing contingency of his fellow veterans are starting to wonder if Bukowski is taking excessive credit for the exploits of his dog, Scooter, who is assuredly the best on the force.

“That dog brought down a huge coke bust last month, but to hear Bukowski tell it, he did it single-handed in slow-mo with his shirt off,” huffed Sgt. Kevin Pank. “If I hear that goddamn story about him tackling a perp one more time, I’m gonna puke blood. That kid was barely 17, and so whacked out he could barely slur his name.”

Other officers shared Pank’s fastidious disparagement.

“Before Bukowski had Scooter, he had this other dog, named King,” explained Officer James Thompson. “King was about as smart as an inbred Mennonite snorting Ajax. Needless to say, Bukowski had one of the worst records on the force. Then boom — he gets Scooter, and all of a sudden he’s like Judge Dredd up in this bitch.”

Thompson paused before offering an ironic anecdote of Bukowski’s ineptitude.

“I never thought I’d have to say this on the record, but Bukowski wouldn’t be shit without that pooch,” bemoaned Thompson. “A few weeks ago we served backup on this vice bust—pretty nasty place over on the South Side. Shots were blazing all around, and where’s Bukowski? Quivering in a corner while Scooter wrestles all these bad guys to the ground; fuckin’ Bukowski left his gun in his cruiser. I don’t have to tell you who was on the evening news that night.”

50 Cent, Bin Laden to Release New Albums on September 11

2007-09-06T15:49:00.000-07:00

Al-Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden and rapper 50 Cent both plan to lauch new albums on the sixth anniversary of the Sept. 11 attack, according to a New York-based media group.

Bin Laden and 50 Cent have hyped the albums as an epic battle of rap titans, and 50 Cent has said he’d retire if bin Laden's Debt-O-Nation outsells his Curtis CD in their first week out.

"Straight up - if that towel-wearing, locust-eating freak sells more discs than me, my ass is outta here faster than Britney in rehab," said 50. "And homeboy better not say shit else to me talkin' all that mush-mouthed jihad junk, lookin like a Pizza Hut delivery bitch."

Bin Laden took offense at the comments of 50 Cent, and lashed out at his rival.

"America and its allies are massacring us in Palestine, Chechnya, Kashmir and Iraq, and Muslims have the right to attack America in reprisal. A-i-i-i-e-e-et?" he holla back. "And bitch better not be holding out on me, neither, 'cuz I'm from the streets, where most need heat, but I slice a nigga up like some roast beef meat. And shit."