Transubstantiation Relapse

The President of the online social-networking company Loomerang was arrested in Charlottesville, Virginia yesterday. Charles Bootiki, who is the head of the Palo Alto-based company, was charged with a DUI, destruction of private property, and disturbing the peace.


Bootiki was visiting family just outside of Charlottesville, after speaking at the UVA School of Business earlier in the week. Bootiki is a recovering alcoholic and has remained sober for 17 years.


He often speaks of his battle with alcoholism in his speeches to the media, public, and his employees. But things took a turn for the worst Sunday at Albermale Catholic Cathedral.



Father John O'Reilly recalls the incident. "I had just finished performing the transubstantiation and was performing communion. When I offered him the blood of Christ, he paused for a second, then took a sip from my chalice. I had moved on to about the fourth person from him, when he grabbed the chalice from my hand and started chugging it."



Apparently, Bootiki has not had a sip of wine for 17 years, the same amount of time he has not attended church. But when his sister convinced him to go, he was put at a crossroads when communion came about.



Charles' wife explains. "Chuck has worked so hard all this time. This was an isolated incident that I am sure will not happen again. I knew we should have never gone to church."



16-year old Paul Timlin was there. "After chugging the wine, the guy bolted out of church like a bat out of hell. He knocked down two little girls in the choir. The middle of the church was crowded, so he started hopping and diving over the pews, stepping on people. He got to the holy water thing over there, splashed water on his face and tuned around roared like a lion at everyone. This guy was a maniac!"



According to reports, Bootiki then got in his rental car and drove around looking for a liquor store. During his rampage, he rammed into 3 parked cars in various parts of the city. The state run ABC Liquor stores are closed in Virginia on Sunday. All stores sell wine and beer, including local gas stations, but apparently Bootiki must have been unaware of this fact.



He finally wound up at Mark's Tavern, a bar in a rural area 20 miles north of Charlottesville. Owner Bobby Grady tells us what happened. "This fella walks in and says, "Gimme all your scotch." I says, 'Sure, but sir, it's only 10:00 in the morning." "He says, "I know that! And he got this crazy look in his eye, and says"And I don't care!". He put $300 on the counter like it was nothing, so I gave him the whole bottle. He drank it in about 5 minutes. Then, he started crying and smashing those there pinball machines. I pulled out my shotgun and said, "Sir, those cost me more than $300. He scribbled a $20,000 check, put it on my counter, threw up in my doorway, and got in his car and drove off. I cashed that check this morning. I says to my wife, "Screw the pinball machines, we're going to Vegas!"



Bootiki didn't make it far in the mountainous region. His car drove off the side of Route 250 200 feet from Mark's Tavern and crashed into a ditch. He suffered minor injuries.



Today, Bootiki issued a statement. "To all my friends, family, and those I have hurt. I have battled long and hard with my alcoholism and I have let you all down. But the truth is that when that fucking devil of a priest offered me that chalice, I said "No thank you." Then he frowned and said, "But if you don't, then you'll go to hell along with your wife and kids." So, for the slight chance that there is a hell, I took a sip. That kicked in my demons and from there I was out of control."



O'Reilly, who was questioned about a molestation incident a few years back, denied the claim. "That's ridiculous. Perhaps, the constant sinister citizens of the Bay Area have overcome him and all those computers have gotten him delusional."



Bootiki is now in rehab and CFO Rita Fritas has taken over operations in the interim. Bootiki has a net worth of approximately $1.2 billion.



Prior to going into rehab, Bootiki vowed revenge against the Catholic Church and made some odd changes at his company. This included policy changes encouraging cursing and adultery to go on in his workplace. If any pregnancies result from the adultery, Bootiki himself said he will pay for the abortions.



He has also encouraged Homosexuals to apply for any open positions at his company. He guaranteed they would be moved to "the front of the line".



Bootiki has also changed the company's well-known emblem of 2 boomerangs intertwined to symbolize convergence. He has replaced it with a digitially altered photo of the Last Supper, where he has photo-imposed a picture of himself yanking the tablecloth off of the table Jesus is using.


Shares of Loomerang went up 13% in mid-day trading..

I'm not an Enabler!

By Cindy McTavish

My therapist tells me I am the enabler in the family and enable my husband to be an alcoholic and drug addict. She’s nuts. I lay the law down and get things my way. Why would I enable my husband to be an alcoholic? Is it the fact that he cheated on me 6 times? Is it the $4,000,000,000 life insurance policy he has? The prenup? Absolutely not. I love him. Wholly.

I went to my therapist to better myself, but then it got to be all about Todd. I had to mention he was an alcoholic and drug addict, right? She thinks because he has a long history of crushing up pills that it may have not been right for me to buy him a mortar and pestal on his birthday. I thought he enjoyed cooking and would use it to mix up spices and things!! How did I expect he would take it and mash up a bunch of OxyContin with it?

She also thinks that hanging neon beer signs in the bedroom isn’t too smart. What can I say? I’m old fashioned and it reminds me of my home back in New Jersey. There were bars everywhere. Oh the memories.

Just because he drinks, doesn’t mean I can’t. In fact, I think because he is the way he is I should be able to let off some steam. So, I have some drinks from time to time. And my back hurts so I just tend to leave the bottle of Goldschlager on the counter beside the fridge. It’s better than having to go in the cabinet to get it. And if I notice some missing, then it’s no big deal. It’s not that expensive.

She also says that symbols of drugs can cause him to relapse. Well, I mean, I didn’t know that putting our coffee creamer in individual baggies and tying them up real tight with a twisty tie looked like cocaine. I was trying to be nice. I even left straws beside them in case he wanted to drink his coffee without spilling it on his suit. I guess spilling the coffee wasn’t as bad as him driving to Newark to get an ounce of coke and disappearing to Atlantic City for 9 days. Because of coffee creamer! And I honestly was trying to help!!!

She also had something to say about my hobby. I took up wine collecting. I have a passion for wine. So, I renovated Todd’s gym into a wine cellar. Not all of it, he still works out there everyday, but I have about 1000 bottles of wine down there. I also decided to grow my own, so I turned our backyard into a small vineyard. Todd complains because he has to walk through the vineyard to get to his toolshed. To stop his complaining about it, I installed a fridge in is shed and a couch in case he gets tired from working out in the yard. And a TV.

And she even had the nerve to bring in my health condition into this. I received my first flu shot the other day. It was a pinnacle point in my life to better myself. So, I convinced the nurse to let me take the syringe home. I put it in a plaque and it’s displaying right there over the..

Oh, it’s gone. ..

Anyway, I don’t know what she is talking about. I am going to find a new therapist. Before I leave for my next appointment, I just have to take the brownies I made for Todd out of the oven.

It Ain't Easy Wearing Green

Vic sat in his living room picking at his fingernails in frustration. He was so close. He had nailed the interview. It was a lock. How could something so silly cost him his first job opportunity in 5 months. Being laid off was hurting Vic. He was a Financial Analyst at a bank that tanked and left him with 2 weeks severance.

He decided this was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. Vic raised up looked in his immaculate backyard. The area had made his work since being unemployed. Trimmed bushes lined along the property line, green rye grass throughout, it was his best landscaping yet. Not bad for a city boy he thought.

Vic turned and moped up the staircase into his exercise room. The house was outside of his means and he knew it. It was for sale for a year and he had 2 people look at it. Vic just couldn’t believe what happened to him today. He wanted to take action. He had enough of people taking advantage of him and disregarding the good intention of his actions.

From the closet, he withdrew a 14 gauge shotgun. Only used twice on a company hunting trip, Vic was a good shot. He sat and turned on some Jackson Browne to calm his nerves. As he tapped his foot, he inserted the shells into the gun. He wasn’t changing his outfit for this occasion. In fact, it was the reason in the first place.
He wrapped the gun in some bath towels and got into his Malibu. He put on NPR since it ws playing classical music this time of the day. Something he shamefully knew all too well. As Vic turned into the mall, he saw the sparse cars in the parking lot. Mostly workers. Sad, he thought. But that was just the way it was. He transferred the shotgun into a large suit bag and zipped it up. He grabbed the clothes hanger at the top and straddled it across his back. He figured he’d go in through the west entrance. Where the food court was. The noise would motivate him. As he walked through the doors, he held it for the woman and her kids behind him. She walked in untouched and didn’t even pass off a thank you.

Frustrated and angry, Vic sat down near the Sbarro. Sbarro, what a joke. He looked over at the illegal immigrants who might pass for Italian to someone with limited eyesight and rage began to build up. He decided to go the Fry Rye Dragon and get a special. 7 bucks for a plate of rice. Whatever, Vic thought. He sat down at a different table and reminisced about the day. He had nailed that interview. Damnit he thought. He was oblivious what was going on the whole time. Only when he saw his reflection in the elevator afterward did he see it. Embarrassing.

He threw his Styrofoam container in the trash and walked down the hall past the eateries. His senses were heightened. He smelled danishes, coffee, chicken, and hot dogs. He felt like he had entered another dimension. He turned left and walked toward the anchor store, Hechts. The sign became blurry as he stared at it and drew closer. At the entrance, he stopped for a moment and looked at all the perfume counters and smiled. As he proceeded through the zig zag of glass cases, he looked up and saw a sign that read Menswear. He followed the arrow and saw the person he was looking for. The guy who sold him his pants.

“Hey, David, is it?” Vic asked.

“Yes, sir. Oh I remember you. How did your interview go?”

“Not good. Actually, that’s why I am here.”

“Oh, too bad. Sorry to hear that. How did those brown pants treat you.”

Vic paused and looked down at his pants. You see the pants were the whole cause of the demise that occurred today.

“That green shirt looks good on you. Knew it would go well with the pants and tie.”
Vic looked up and was astonished at the guy’s comment. He stared at him with rage.
Vic looked back down at his pants, then his shirt.

True, the pants did look brown here in the store. You could not deny that. But, that didn’t matter. What matter is how they looked in the lighting in the interview room earlier today. There, these pants were green. Together with a light green shirt, he looked like a giant pea pod. He heard the secretaries snickering at him as he left.

“David, these pants are green.”

“Hahaha. That’s funny. They’re brown sir.”

“They’re green.”

“Brown.”

Vic unzipped his suit bad and drew the shotgun.

David became awestruck and pale instantly.

“You’re coming with me. I’m gonna show you.”

Vic pressed the barrel against David as they left the store together. It was amazingly easy to get out of the mall without anyone even being suspicious. They got in Vic’s car and headed to the office where Vic had the interview.

“Sir, maybe they didn’t care about the color of your pants. Maybe you’ll get the job.”

“Shut it. It’s over.” Vic punched David in the mouth. It felt good to Vic. He wanted to do that to someone for a long time. Mainly, his old boss, but this guy would do.
They entered the parking garage and got past the security attendant. He still had his parking pass from earlier in the day.

He parked in space 158 and the two of them entered the building via the stairwell. The echo of their footsteps was eerie to Vic. It was as if he was entering the end.
They go to the main floor and signed in. Vic had his suit bag and no one asked any question. They entered the elevator and a woman entered and pressed Floor 12. That’s where they needed to go. They exited the elevator and Vic pointed to his pants.

“See?”

“Yes, they are green. Full refund. Buy one get one.”

“Too late man. Let’s go.”

Vic walked down the hall and entered the interview room. There was another candidate in there. Vic looked at him in his beautiful suit. Perfectly matched and well groomed. Vic in an furious fit began to unzip his bag. In walked Charlie Powell, the hiring manager.

“Vic. What are you doing here. Actually, I am glad you came. Can I see yo for a minute?”

Surprised, Vic replied, “Sure.”

The two left the room. Vic could see David pleading his case to the other candidate waving his hands in the air and making a gesture with a gun. The candidate looked like he believed him and got up.

Charlie noticed what was going on and became distracted from what he was going to tell Vic.

The candidate stood up and exited the interview room.

“Mr. Powell. This guy is a killer. He came here to kill us all because of the color of his pants.”

“That’s absurd. Don’t try to downgrade another candidate. That’s unprofessional.”

“But Mr. Powell, I am serious.”

“Get out of my office right now. And you too. Is this guy with you Vic?”

“No. He jut got off the elevator with me. No idea who he is.”

David looked at Vic as if he was totally insane and ran off.

“Well Vic, I was going to tell you that this guy in here was going to be our man. But since he just flaked out, I guess you’re our man. I had you as the #2 candidate and it looks like you moved up to #1.”

“Oh, Mr. Powell, I can’t thank you enough.”

“By the way, what’s in the bag?”

“Oh, a pair of brown pants I was supposed to wear today but they got stuck at the cleaners.”

“Glad to hear. I knew there was a reason you were dressed like Guido. See you Monday”

“Thanks!”

Vic got in the elevator and threw the gun atop the elevator shaft. He exited the elevator to see David and a security guard waiting for him.

“He has a gun in that bag!”

“Open the bag sir.”

Vic unzipped the bag and it was an empty hanger.

The security guard looked at David, “Sir, what kind of demented clothes salesman are you?”

A Review of the Inaguration Speech By Moderator and Gene Shallet

Today, a day after the historic speech of President Barack Obama, we’d like to look into its success. I have here Gene Shallet, a world-reknowned movie critic to get his take on it.

“Good Morning Gene”

“Good Morning Vietnam”

“My name is Tom”

“My Name is Earl”

“But your Gene..”

“Ha. And your Nobody’s Fool”

“Ok. Let’s get started. What did you think of President Obama’s speech yesterday?”

“It was Definitely, Maybe the best speech in the History of the World, Part I.”

“What did you like about it so much?”

“I loved how he started strong and began Breaking Away from the usual rhetoric and Made the crowd so part of it. Noone felt like a Cast Away.”

“What would you have done differently?”

“Well, it’s Funny Farm that you mention that. I actually have written my own version of how I would address the nation.”

“Really?! Please do share.”

“My fellow Americans. I know some of you have some Fear right now. I know that many of you have lost jobs Out of Nowhere and are Living in America wondering what will happen The Day After Tomorrow. Some of you are Waiting to Exhale by yelling out a Scream of “Oh God!” to those around you. But Only You can help rebuild this country. When our forefathers like washington and Hancock developed this government, they had the Wisdom to know when it was time for a Quick Change. JFK stood here, made his speech and took this nation to the next level. Even Nixon took us to a foreign land to take us from that Big Trouble in Little China. But I stand here before you to tell you that America is Hard to Kill. And I, with your help, will take us from the Abyss we are in and send us to the top of the world so that we are once again a prosperous and great country. I am not a Liar, Liar. I am no Illusionist. And to be honest, it will take some Dirty Work. But I am speaking to you now from my heart and promise to take us Back to the Future where we belong. But we must be strong. Just because you are a Pretty Woman doesn’t mean you can be a Cry Baby. We need you to be solid like The Rock that stands over there. If you do, I will ensure I will protect this country and its citizens. If someone attacks, I will send All the Presidents Men to take care of whoever those Goonies are and let them know that we are Out for Justice.

Over the next 4 years, I will do whatever takes. I mean, What’s the Worst That Could Happen? All of Me is dedicated to this task and promise it won’t be another Neverending Story. So, continue Keeping the Faith and I will do the same. God Bless You and God Bless America.”

“Well done, Gene. Have you ever thought running for President?”

“I am not a Running Man, but if I was, I would be Gung Ho about getting into the Election. It’s not for me though. I prefer to be Behind Enemy Lines in the movie business, which is what we call in Hollywood can the Monkey Business!. I think Barack will do a good job. Thanks for the interview but I have to leave, my granddaughter, She Is Having a Baby and I have to Quicksilver over there since it’s been 9 Months since my grandson in-law gave her the ‘ol Dead Bang.”

“Good Night”

“ and Good Luck.”

Penpal Letters from C. Everett Koop

In 1986 I was a 4th grader attending John F. Kennedy Elementary School in Blackstone MA. Our teacher had assigned us the task of writing a letter to any member of the U.S. government. Most kids wrote to President Reagan, but I wrote my letter to Surgeon General C. Everett Koop. In response to my only letter I received a letter from the Surgeon General at least twice a month for the next 21 years. I have decided to publish the one sided correspondence in a segment I call:

PENPAL LETTERS FROM C. EVERETT KOOP

January 1st 1988

Dear Jeremy,

Well let's get the formallities out of the way and let me say Happy Fuckin New Year Man. Now with that being said, I think it's time to discuss a situation that's really been pissing me off. It is now 19 hundred and 80 fuckin' 8. We have been penpals since 19 hundred and 86. Since then I have mailed you over 250 letters and you have mailed me JACK SHIT. Now do I gotta keep wasting my time here or what? I mean I'm the one trying to feed a young mind some wisdom, teaching you how to throw a cheapshot into a motherfuckers throat and telling you the best city's to find Korean poontang. But hey, if you don't want to hear this old fool from the Sea tell you how to score, then what the hell did you write me for anyway?

Ahh fuck it, Jeremy. I can't stay mad at you. You'll write when you want. You're probably a busy little motherfucker anyways. What are you like 10 now? Man when I your age I was shaking down paperboys in the neighborhood for payoffs. It's a good racket for a young entrepreneur. That and selling cigarettes. It's a little tough to get 'em off the truck these days (believe me I just unloaded about 3 grand worth last week). But for a young kid you can probably do pretty good if you get a few of your buddies together and tip a cigarette machine on it's side. You'd be surprised how easy they break open. It's not just a money maker, but it's almost like a science experiment-you know, taking apart a big machine like that. Just don't let too many of your buddies in on it, they eat in to your profits. And by all means Jeremy, don't cut into your own supply. Especially with Cigarettes!! You know how the Koop feels about those fucking things!! I catch you smoking cigarettes I'll break your fuckin knee cap with a zippo,just like my old man did to me. Yes sir, old man Koop (the Admiral as I had to call him) didn't take no candy ass approach to parenting. There was no smoking a box of cigars to teach this kid a lesson. The Admiral says to me, you think you're a man now, smokin' fags huh(His old man was British and he never shook the British terminology). So then he sits me down and bashes my fuckin knee caps with his zippo til they were shattered in 6 places. They still crack when I do arobics.

So anyways bud, I gotta run. I'm meeting McCallister behind his deli in an hour, we're gonna CRANK some Roy Orbison and pound Rolling Rocks until the old Korean who runs the Laundomat next door to the deli comes out and tries to fight us (that motherfuckers crazy). It's a New Years tradition of me and McCallister.

Happy New Year Buddy. Here's to 1988.

Your Pal,




Cool Everett Koop

P.S. I was thinking me and you could start lifting weights as a new years resolution. I can bench 250. What are you benching?

2 Men and a Guttenberg

1990 Beverly Hills California -

Tom Sellick takes the stage with Ted Danson at the wrap party for 3 Men and a Little Lady...

Sellick stands at the podium and begins giving a speech while Steve Guttenberg is busy putting the moves on a clearly disinterested middle aged waittress.

"Come on Baby I gotta room at the plaza...oh shit, they're starting without me again." Guttenberg says as he throws his room key at the waitresses feet, lunges through the crowd and slides onto the stage.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Sellick states over the microphone which is suddenly yanked hard to the left.

"And LITTLE LADIES, we should add." Guttenberg adds as he gives his trademarked devilish grin while leaning over the podium.

Ted Danson calmly pulls Guttenberg away from the mic.

"Come on Steve. That's enough now." He says to Guttenberg.

"Thanks Ted." Sellick continues. "Look we just wanted to say that if audiences enjoy watching this movie as much as we enjoyed making this movie with all of you, then we got a real smash on our hands."

Ted Danson stepped to the podium, raising his Champagne Flute.

"TO 3 MEN AND A LITTLE LADY!!" He toasted.

The crowd joined him and the jazz combo began playing their next set as Danson and Sellick walked off the stage together.

"And if I could just add- Here's to the NEXT 3 MEN AND A BABY movie, It's gonna be the biggest thing since the Cosby show!! Look out Summer of 91, cause Guttenberg and the gang are gunnin' for ya!! LET'S HERE IT FOR THE BOYS!!" Guttenberg added while raising Danson's empty champagne flute in the air, although nobody listened. The Jazz band didn't even stop playing.

Outside at the Valet station, Sellick and Danson stood with their wives and said there goodbyes, while hoping to get away quickly.

"Hey there you guys are!!" Says Guttenberg who seemed to appear out of nowhere and completely out of breath."So listen guys..(huff-huff) first of all if that waitress Sheila comes out here tell her I'm not here,...(huff-huff) that dude Kevin tending bar says he knows these stuardesses that'll party with us and they're WAY HOTTER!! But fuck it, I just wanted to say...NEXT YEAR....THE NEXT MOVIE."

Sellick cuts Guttenberg off

"Look Steve, I've been talking to Ted and I think we're in agreement. No more movies."

"What??!!"

"Yeah, look Tom's right. We had a good run Steve." Adds Danson as his ride pulls up. The Valet pulled up Sellicks car at the same time.

"It's the golden rule of Showbiz Steve. You gotta quit while your on top. Take care of yourself Steve. Hey Ted, gimme a call." Sellick adds and the 2 men drove away leaving Steve Guttenberg completely alone.

"Ted, what do you mean no more movies?" Guttenberg yelled out to the passing traffic that his co-stars were among as he stood utterly alone....



2008 Riverside California -

Tom Sellick enters the Ramada Inn's 70 seat video conference center and is greeted by Ted Danson.

"Hey Tom, you look GREAT. Congratulations buddy, WOW, the AFI. I was so happy when I heard they were honoring you."Danson says

"Hey thanks alot Ted, it's great to see you buddy.You know I kind of felt like a ham coming to something like this. I mean usually with the AFI you'd expect maybe a Pacino or a Spielberg but hey,what can I say. I guess I made some smart moves afterall."

"Aww don't sell yourself short Tom, you deserve it."

"Thanks Ted I appreciate it. I wonder why they chose Riverside?"

"Yeah. Yeah I was just wondering that myself. You know I don't mean to rain on your sunny day, but this isn't the most glamourous setup for an AFI event. No open bar- in fact I asked for a glass of Dom and they gave me a plastic cup of Carlo Rossi. I complained to the manager and the guys said shut your stink hole Becker that's Paisano...'the good stuff!!"

"You know what's odd. These people here, the guests...I don't recognize any of them. I mean sure there are some actors here, but nobody good. I mean theres that guy over there blocking the exits...wait. Didn't he play Tackleberry?"

The 2 men suddenly had an intense look on their face as they realized what was going on.

"GUTTENBERG!!" They both yelled while dropping their cups of Carlo Rossi Paisano on the floor and scattering in different directions.

Just then Steve Guttenberg entered from the door at the back of the stage with an 80's boom box on his shoulder blaring the song "Lets Hear it For the Boys". He pulled down the banner that read AFI HONORS TOM SELLICK to reveal another banner that read 3 Men and a Granddaughter.

When Guttenberg saw Danson and Sellick attempting to make a getaway he yelled out "STOP THEM"

Suddenly Kevin the bartender jumped from behind the bar and smacked Tom Sellick with a half empty jug of Carlo Rossi square in the temple, knocking him to the ground, while Wilford Brimley planted his fat ass on Sellicks back pinning him to the ground.

"You fuck with one Cocoon castmember you fuck with all of us...at least all the ones that are still alive that is." Wilford declared before farting on Sellick's back.

Danson made a bolt for the East exit, plowed through Tackleberry and suddenly found himself being chased through the Ramada's hallway by Guttenberg who was still carrying the Boom Box, the mixed tape now moving on to Hootie and the Blowfish's mid '90s hit "I only wanna be with you".

As Danson made his way into the lobby he was suddenly stunned by what appeared to be the sound of a UFO about to land in the lobby.

"What is that? A goddamn spaceship?"

But no, it was Michael Winslow the human sound effect machine doing a UFO impression from behind a plant in the lobby.

Danson was tackled and held down by Guttenberg.

"Get the fuck off me Guttenberg!!"Danson demanded

"I don't want to hurt you Ted. I just want to talk to you."

"Yeah well you can FORGET IT. I AINT MAKING A 3MEN AND a BABY MOVIE!! Damnit you do this to us every year!! And every year the idea's stink!!"

"Ted,Ted,Ted just listen. It's 2008, We havent' seen each other since 1994, we're all bachelors except Tom's character, and now it's Mary's college graduation, so we all have to meet up. We find out she's pregnant so we find the boyfriend and beat the shit out of him."

"Jesus Guttenberg, that's shit!! It doesn't even make sense." Danson pleads while still being held to the floor of the lobby.

"Yeah but it's edgey. Like P.S. Your Cat is Dead. I did that Indy and we can do this indy. But it'll be a SMASH Ted, it'll be a smash!!"

"Your fuckin crazy Guttenberg do you know that."

"Ted....Tedddy....Come on, let's make the movie Ted. People want it."

Suddenly Guttenberg caught Sellick's patten leather shoe to the back of the head, knocking him over. Sellick managed to break free when Wilford Brimley had fallen asleep while sitting on his back and was now out to rescue his former co-star.

He pulled Danson to his feet and made a break for the Ramada parking lot. This time the 2 men made no attempts at a goodbye, they simply drove off.

As Danson pulled out of the parking lot Guttenberg jumped on the hood of his Lexis.

"Ted just think about it." He yelled as Danson turned the wipers on. " It'll be a cross between Casablanca and P.S. Your Cat is Dead, I PROMISE YOU...WOOOOOAAAWW"

Guttenberg was laid out in the middle of the busy downtown Riverside streets. He picked himself up and dusted himself off while ignoring the honking horns of annoyed drivers as he watched Danson drive off in his Lexis.

Suddenly there was a hand on Guttenberg's shoulder. He turned to find Tackleberry standing next to him.


"We'll get 'em next time Steve. Next time."

The Adventures of Marty the Meth Addict: Thanksgiving at Aunt Lucy's House

Hey Cousin, my you're getting big. Nephew? Who the hell? Hey Grandma. What's shaking you old bag? Can I get a swig of that Goldschlager? Sweet, you were always there for me gram. Ok, enough of this family shit. Hi everyone, hi to you, you too, you you little bastard. Just going to go back and check on the chickens. Boy it smells in here. I'll just seat myself between you two hens. Nice little hit before Turkey time. Wooof. BOWAAWAAWA! Rrrg. Shit. Hey what came first, the chicken or the egg?Hehehehe. What's that? Oh shit. Hey Mr. wolf. Hey Mr. Nice doggie. Ohh, no need to show those teeth. Want some meth? Hey, lemme shotgun it for you. Just stay still. There you go. Good dog now. Hey. Calm down wolf. Oh don't get all upset now. Why's your fur doing that man? Are you some kind of alien? Don't jump, just gonna back up real slow outta the coop. All You can eact chicken is on Marty today. Two drink minimum? Heheheh. It was just a joooooooooke. Ohhh! Help! Help! Marty is on the run.

Oh shit Bobby,close the door. There's a wolf chasing me. See him. He's eating the tire of Lucy's car. Don't know, he must be really upset or something. Probably teased him with all this food you guys been cooking up.

Grandma get the gun! Quick give me your necklace. Throwin it in the pan! It's sizzlin' silver! Marty the Silver chef! I'm cooking it cuz I'm gonna make a silver bullet and shoot it through his heart! No, I won't calm down. A coyote? What the? I'm not freaking out. Fine, but as soon as dinner is ready yell downstairs and I'll come up. Yell loud too, cuz I'm gonna be playing Pac Man. Stupid family. Pac Man my ass. Pac man is packing it up with some ice biatchh! Woof, Wow! Methamphetamine equals powerpelletine . HEhehe. Good hittin down here in the basement. What? Dinner's ready? I ain't hungry. I'll be up in a few. Wof! Woof! Ice is hitting on t-giving baby!

Oh, hey everyone, oh nothing, just looking at the washing machine down there. Oh you all saying some séance thing? I bet I can get the Turkey to levitate. Watch this….Dearly Beloved, Gobble Gobble, let the good lord raise the bird up and make his head begin to Bobble! Heehehehe. Oh fine, you pissants ain't worth shit. I'll be watching football while you do that pilgrim shit. It ain't the year 1345 folks! Jesus. What's on the tube? Hey Aunt Lucy, what's wrong with the reception? The antenna. I'll go fix it. On the roof? Fuck that? How about some tackle football? When are you guys going to be done eating? Here I'll help you woof it down. Give me that spoon. Mmmm. Gooth math potathoes Titha. Heehehe. Manners? What manners? I'm eating with the spoon. Oh wait a sec…Something's about to come out of my ass. Ohoooo! Marty shit himself at the Thanksgiving table. Marty shit himself at the Thankgiving table!!! Fine. I'm outta here. Hey, nephew who can't speak too good, what size waist are you?

The Safety Dance

I was assigned security for a concert that I had been waiting for 15 years. I spent $500 on two tickets for front row and I had a limo reserved. It was going to be one of the best nights I had in a long while. Suzy was going to go with me and I knew I was DEFINITELY getting some that night. The music, the money,the pure ecstasy of seeing my favorite band. And it all went to hell.

F'ing Chuck got in a car wreck and broke his arm. Johnny went into rehab for 'roids. Next on the list to work-good ole me. So, I had to cancel everything, including my date. I was depressed, angry, mad at the world. But there was a bright side. I could still go to the show. I just had to work.

You see my occupation is in concert security, so I get to hear numerous acts, standing there with my back to them while I cart off drunk teenagers and middle aged men for playing grabass. It's alright. Pays good, keeps me in shape.

So, I had to go stand in front of my favorite band, but focus on the crowd at the same time. It would be a challenge to perform well and enjoy the music. So, I did some cognitive training. I went and watched tennis matches and kept score while talkin on my cell phone. I did pretty well. Then, I went to my gym and jumped on and off the treadmill while it was running while simutaneously changing the song on my ipod. I was getting good at this multitasking thing. So, the day before the show, I climbed up a 24 ft. ladder with a crystal bowl, threw it up in the air, climbed down the ladder, somersaulted and caught it. I am not sure if that helped me train at all, but it sure pumped me up.

When I got to Tropicana field , the place was empty. It was tough watching the crowd grow and grow knowing I could have been one of them, smashed, yelling at my date to quit looking at other guys.It made me understand how the security crew for Woodstock must have felt. But it's all good. When the opening band came off and the headliners, my heroes, were getting ready, my heart started racing. I felt like I was going to a high school dance for the first time. Just then, some idiot threw a beer at the stage, so I caught it in mid –air, jumped over the metal gate and popped him one. Or her one. It doesn't matter.I wasn't gonna be bothered with bullshit and I was making it extremely clear. I was there to listen first and conduct crowd control second.

When the group came on, the place roared. I glanced back a few times, but my boss, Old Man McKinley kept giving me dirty looks. By mid-set I was drenched with sweat.I was enjoying it, but needed more. Just one turn and look at my boys. I decided, screw it, if they play my favorite song, I am going up there on stage. At that exact moment, like divine intervention, I heard the opening words to Hangin' Tough. I turned and locked eyes with Donnie. It was on. I jumped on stage and started dancing with the one and only NKOTB.

I was DEFINITELY at a high point in my life, until what I thought were my friends and colleagues were yelling at me to get off the stage. I told them NO WAY!. So, they had the nerve to try and take me down, but it wasn't gonna happen. Not during Hangin' Tough.

Before I knew it my moment of glory was diminished as I now had to take on the most elite squad of concert security these United States have ever known. My boss, Old Man McKinley stood calmly behind the crew as he sent A squad to handle my downfall. He was cold,confident and calculating, but he also was forgetting...I trained the A squad.

3 came at me at once, 2 from the side with 1 from behind. I was so ready I didn't even have to stop my Hanging Tough dance. I just grabbed the 2 from the side while my arm was already waving from left to right and smacked their faces into each other. The 3rd guy thought he was slick sneaking up behind me, but I knew he'd be coming, and simply fused a triple spin with a sweep kick to the leg, and took the punk out without even missing a beat.

I looked to my right, and in all of the action it didn't even occur to me that I was standing next to little Joey-Joe McIntyre, who in my humble opinion was always the best dancer of the bunch. I realized I was probably stealing his thunder, so I turned and mouthed the words, "I'M SO SORRY JOEY-JOE"

That's when Old Man McKinley broke out the big guns. B-squad. These were all the fat Guido's who tried to pick up chicks by acting like they were connected. Sure they had the weight to throw around...but I had the moves!!

As the B-squad huffed up the stairs to the stage, I came flying stage left into a WICKED knee slide, hand delivering a swift punch to the balls to all 3 squad members before hopping back to my feet with all the grace of a young Lance Bass. I looked back to see if Donny was watching. Donny was always the bad-ass and I figured he'd be sending a nod my way after those moves, but he was too busy dancin'. I couldn't blame him though.

But my moment in the sun was about to turn into a cold burn as I saw McKinley giving the hand signals for the triple squad take down. (coincidently the hand signals were the same hand signals the Cincinatti Reds used for a bunt in 1976, but let's keep that on the DL).

Soon all available venue personnell were bum rushing the stage. Even Greg Stephens, the kid who works the nacho stand, was coming at me. And let me tell you, I've wanted to take a swing at that bastard ever since I found out he sold an eight ball to the road manager of Hootie and the Blowfish.

It turned into total chaos. Next thing I know, I was punching my best friend in the nose, sweep kicking the soundman, and powerbombing Old Man McKinley. I gave the fight of my life but soon they had me down, and a crew of 8 were now dragging me off the stage right in front of the New Kids. I was humiliated. It was as at that moment that a source of rage overpowered me as I looked up at Jon Knight (the George Harrison of the New Kids in MY book) and I let out a roaring "NOOOOOOOOO" while ripping my event staff t-shirt open Hulk Hogan style, revealing the NKOTB-4-LIFE tattoo that ran across my muscular chest.

As my face hit the same pavement that I threw so many drunken punks onto throughout the best years of my life, Old man McKinley made a point to step on my hand. I looked up at him as he warned me not to show my face around here again. Not even to collect the nights pay. He then flicked his cigar in my face and was escorted back inside by the A squad.

I dusted myself off and began leaning against the back of the building where the crowd of 32 year old single mothers flocked around the NKOTB tour bus. Inside I heard the muffled sounds of the last single of NKOTB's hey-day "Step by Step" starting up and as a single tear ran down my cheek I knew a major chapter in my life had come to an end.

I made my way downtown to grab a drink at Murphy's Lounge. The bouncer tried to tell me I wouldn't be allowed in without a shirt, but when he saw the look of loss on my face he changed his mind and told the bartender the first round was on him.

After last call I decided to walk back to my apartment. There were plenty of cabs around, but I needed time to think. As I walked down Broad street I heard someone yell, "Hey Tough-guy". I looked up and saw the NKOTB tour bus stopped at a red light. I couldn't believe it. Donnie had the window down and was yelling towards me. He actually recognized me.

"Nice moves man. Nice moves." He yelled. He took off his dew rag and through it my way and the bus began to drive off into the night.

I gripped the dew rag in my hand and raised my fist in the air with conviction as I shouted at the bus as it drove away from me forever...."NEW KIIIIIIIDDDSS!!!!"

My housekeeper don't come by no more

By Angelo


It's been lonely here lately. The only interaction with people since I retired from GM is when my housekeeper comes over once a month.She only needs to clean my kitchen and living room, since I shut down the power to the bathroom, and the guest room's completely off limits because the treadmill already knows too much. I don't let her in my bedroom either. It's too personal for me. And I feel like I would be betraying my ex-wives if I let her in there and she touched my bed or something. So, she charges me $500 a cleaning for the 2 rooms. I figure it's not that bad. With the hassle of getting the cleaning supplies, gas, and just the inconvenience of it all, I'd say it's around the same amount. She got upset at me the other day because I left the toast in the toaster oven for a week and it got moldy. I put it in the toaster oven but then got distracted because I heard crashing outside and I looked through my blinds and it was the trash man who had dropped a bottle I put in the can. It was a bottle of Yoohoo that broke. So, I went outside and cleaned it up so no drivers would swerve to avoid driving over it, crash, and then sue me. So, when I went back in the house , I forgot to turn on the toaster oven. When she got upset with me, I tried to apologize. It didn't end up well. She seemed pretty upset. I like to keep my eye on her when she is there because she might take something or trip and get hurt. So, I stay in the living room while she cleans the kitchen and when she cleans the living room, I stay in the kitchen. But I always end up dirtying the room I am watching her from, so she has to clean it again. She got confused last time and I was in the kitchen when she had to clean the kitchen and I couldn't remember if she had cleaned it the third time or not, so I told her she could go home. She told me it wasn't worth her time and sanity to do this any more even if she gets more working for me than if she whores herself out. So, she left. I don't think she was prostituting in my house but now I am concerned. I always watched her the whole time, but what if there was a sting operation going on. Maybe they think we were having intimate relations in the kitchen or living room. So, in case she left any fingerprints, I hired a Mold Remediation crew to disinfect my kitchen and living room. They told me to leave for a few weeks to let the chemicals dissipate but I have nowhere to go. I have been in my bedroom for a few weeks now. Theres not much to do in here so I've been reading a Readers Digest I found under my bed over and over, and I've had to pee for 3 days. I tried leaving the bedroom to get some coffee but my eyes started burning and I had a rash on my face in less than 30 seconds. It's been a while since I been out of the house. But that's ok. It's just too bad my housekeeper don't come by no more.

3OrangeWhipples Presents: The Trilogy of Terror ACT III

So it appears that you made it through the horrifying tale of Count Groovula, and the story of Nuclear Walkman-Man may have only enticed your taste for terror. Well then the boys at 3OW got a story that is so mortifying, even your funky-ass moderator can't handle this shit. So brace yourself for the third and FINAL ACT of the 3OW trilogy of terror....The Devil vs. Gene Shallett!! BWUHAHAHAHA!!!

The Devil vs. Gene Shalett

In honor of the upcoming election, I'd like to take some questions from our listeners regarding some of the issues. Here we have 2 experts who are well-known and not affiliated with any party. First, we have The Devil. Known to many as Lucifer, the Devil has a degree from Duke University and has a long record, from attempting to assassinate the Pope and introducing reality shows to American television. Second, we have Gene Shallett. Gene is a world-reknown movie critic famous for his humorous reviews on early morning shows. Genetleman, good evening. Our first call is from Sandra in Nebraska. She asks, "How would unite the country and eliniate partisanship" Devil, I'll start with you.



"Thanks Bobby. Well, I think the key to unity in this country is cocaine. Now, I know what you are thinking. Oh, it's just the devil being the devil and whatever he says isn't true. Well that's BULLSHIT REEGER! Anyway, cocaine is the only thing that white, god fearing aristocrats and poor black people have in common. They all like it. One sells to the other. It's simple. This would in turn increase our participation in NAFTA and relations with Colombia an put additional pressure on the Socialist government of Venezuela led by Hugo Chavez, tax immigrants smuggling cocaine in the US, and increase productivity.

"Interesting."

Gene?

"Well, Apparently the Devil wears Prada, because the last time Cocaine did anything for us was Tommy Boy. Listen I'm all for Pumping Up the Volume in the West Wing, but when you start letting Drugstore Cowboys hang out Where the Buffalo Roam then you got Problem Child 2. I think the Short Circuit in this country is related to one Thing. That's ignoring the Buddy System. Sure, we have Irreconcilable Differences but if our Children of the Corn unite with our City Slickers then we can become friends. You might say we have Nothing in Common, however, Trading Places for one minute will make all our differences Gone in 60 seconds.

Another viewer asked how do we tackle terrorism while also building our economy. This is from Jake in California.

Devil, I"ll start with you.

"Gene, if it weren't for my love for the smell of popcorn, you'd be a goner. And that deal we made regarding your Fame, it's off! Terrorism is cool man. I haven't had this much fun since the medieval times. It's like and action movie for me. People Blowing up each other. What a rush. Makes me want to do what I talked about in my first answer. As for the economy. I don't go there. I can make people rich and poor but the economy is like a boring version of me making you bet your house on a roulette wheel. Actually, it's kind of inhumane, if you ask me. My style is quick. I make you a rock star, you become rich and famous. Next thing you're broke and doing covers of your own songs at Happy Hour at Chili's. So, I don't know. It's just kind of not my genre."

Gene?

"Well, terrorism is a tricky thing. We have our Delta Forces infiltrating Behind Enemy Lines. It's the terrain, mountinaous. These Hills have Eyes I tell you. And when we engage the Village, sometimes these foreigners are Unfaithful. When W. said Bring It On. He meant every word of it. Those terrorists were Running Scared in Every Which Way But Loose. They have Nowhere to Run and No Way Out. So, our Warriors must be the Brave One and your average Joe Dirt and Private Benjamin have to get Bustin' Loose. Cause if they don't use their wits, they'll be Better Off Dead What we need is for these Leatherheads to come home to the American dream. For a Universal Soldier that was Born in East L.A., to come home to a job at DC Cab or even become a Mr. Mom watching the House and Kids while their wife is working at Mystic Pizza from 9 to 5 is the Best of the Best."

Mike from Brownsville Texas asks our commentators, 'controlling the borders is not only an issue of national security, but it also poses as a drain on our economy. What would you do to help secure our Borders.' I would actually like to let Mr. Shallett give the first response. Gene...

"When The Mexican feels a little Footloose and decides that Coming to America will be A Walk to Remember, make no mistake, these people ain't Searching for Bobby Fisher, they're after Easy Money. Problem is it's rightfully Other Peoples Money. And it won't take long before these Wonderboys starting getting a little Stir Crazy and start looking for some Hanky Panky. Soon enough your daughter's KNOCKED UP, and you find yourself GOING APES. But when the government's attempt to deport these Aliens turns into a Failure to Launch, good Americans like You, Me, and Dupree start feeling like Tough Guys and agree it's time to go Commando. So much so that we start spend so much time committed to the cause that we're practically Married To The Mob. So you tell these Ruthless People I think it's time for you to be Leaving Las Vegas, but they say Not Without My Daughter and now your locked in a real Catch 22. It's Risky Business for sure, but as Americans We gotta let these Meatballs know...they're the Outsiders.

Devil, would you like to respond? Devil?

"It looks like the Devil is in some type of Coma. I'd say this debate was a Victory for Shallet. I can't answer any more questions anyway. I left my daughter Home Alone. I have to make a call but my Cell is not working. I can't call from the Phone Booth down there because there are Men At Work making too much noise. So, I'll have to get a Taxi and probably am going to get stuck in Rush Hour. So, thank you for your time. I have to Go."

"There you have it. We'll see you next in the next round with Shallet vs. the next contender. Don't forget to vote on November 4th."

Three Orange Whipples Presents: the Trilogy of Terror ACT II

So it appears that you're brave enough to return for ACT II of the Trilogy of Terror!! Well if Nuclear Walkman-man didn't scare you to your core, than I warn you, 'Count Groovula: the Psychadelic Bloodsucker' is gonna MUTHAFUNKA!!!

Count Groovula: The Psychadelic Bloodsucker‏

An Expose on the latest threat to the youth of America

by Gordon T. Appollo

Meet George and Pauline Faulkner. They are a typical couple in these modern times...George a forklift operator at a local automobile plant while Pauline makes a fine homemaker.

They sit in the parlor of their modest house in the suburban outskirts of Detroit, holding a picture of their oldest son Lenny.

Like so many parents in 1967, George and Pauline have not seen their oldest Son in quite some time. They stay awake late into the night worrying about his where abouts and general wellbeing;George punching doors while Pauline clutches her Rosary Beads.

The reason for all this worry? Well let's just say that he's not honorably fighting off the Communist Reds in Vietnam. No, like many of our nations troubled youth, Lenny grew his hair long like a girl and started listening to Rock groups like Strawberry Alarm Clock and the Dave Clark Five.Not long after that, Lenny ran off to San Francisco, seeking to sabotage the American way of life.

And George and Pauline are not alone in their distress...

The numbers of teenagers who have deserted their families to join the hippy counterculture in the last year have been staggering. It has been estimated that by 1971, 87% of American's between the ages of 14 to 29 will be living on the streets of San Francisco. And once they get there, they will be introduced to a life of excessive indulgance in Pyschadelic drugs, such as Morning Glory Seeds, Magic Mushrooms, and the dreaded LSD 25.

And as if that isn't a terrifying notion enough, there is a new threat facing the estimated 2 million teenagers that have fled to the Height Ashbury disctrict of San Francisco. And this new threat has locked it's sights on the jugular of the "love generation".

Since 1622 Count Vladimir the XIV has lived an almost urban legend like existince of an Eastern European vampire. Today,he goes by the name Count Groovula, and he spends his nights lurking the streets of the Height Ashbury disctrict searching for victims. Specifically young runaway's trying to break in to the hippy scene.

I recently sat down with both George and Pauline, as well as Count Groovula for an exclusive interview. I feel it is my duty to warn you, this interview will terrify you to your very CORE!

"George, Pauline...let me thank you for letting me into your home, and may I extend my deepest sympathy.It must be very hard for you to face your neighbors."

"Thank you Sir." Replied George

"Now, I must warn you I will be introducing you to Count Groovula in just a few minutes, but first... tell me about Lenny."

"Well Lenny always was a good boy, and we hope he's alright.Lenny if your reading this we love you, please just come home." Pauline stated before her husband interrupted.

"He's a GODDAMN BUM!!

"What's that now?" I asked

"You heard me!...LENNY! He's A NO GOOD BUM!!And when he comes home with his tail between his legs he's gonna get the BELT SO HARD THAT HE'S GONNA..."

"GEORGE!! Please this is going to be in Life Magazine." Pauline pleaded

"I'm sorry Honey. It's just that I get so GODDD-DAMMMN FRUSTRATED!!!IF YOU'RE READING THIS LENNY, I KNOW YOU'RE ON THE POT!!"George then stood and paced back and forth,rubbing his hands through his receeding hairline."Jesus Christ, I knew letting him watch that fuckin Ed Sullivan Show was a bad idea...I OUGHTTA KICK ED SULLIVAN's ASS YOU KNOW!! I REALLY OUGHTA JUST KICK SULLIVAN'S..."

"GEORGE PLEASE THAT'S ENOUGH!!" His wife insisted.

After a brief moment to let George cool down I sent my assistant Johnny to get Count Groovula who had been patiently waiting in the Faulkners garage.

The count made his way into the parlor; his presence nothing short of horrifying.

He still wears his traditional 17th century suit,which he has now completely tie-dyed with a bright purple cape. He flashes his fangs and a peace sign at the time...truly terrifying.

"Count Vladimir"I started

"My name is COUNT GROOVULA"

"OK, Count Groovula it is then. How long have you been living in San Francisco?"

"Since 19 hundred and 65. Right after I started listening to those DAMN ROLLING STONES the kids like so much."

"I'm sorry, but Count, you look so familiar. Where do I know you from?" Pauline interrupted.

"You don't know me. You DEFINITELY DON'T KNOW ME" He replied

"Tell us Count Groovula, what is it like being a vampire in San Francisco?" I asked.

"Are you kidding me Buster? San Francisco is really the cat's Meow."

"UMMM don't you mean it's Far Out COUNT GROOVULA?!?!"

"Right...Right on. San Francisco is Far Out."

"And just what is so "FAR OUT" about San Francisco."

"Look it's real easy for a fella like me out there. I see one of those damn long hairs, I bite his neck and then I'm high on LSD all night. What's not far out about that?"

"I'll tell you what's not "FAR OUT" about that! You got these mixed up kids who are out wandering around these San Francisco flop house's, and before they're even able to come to their sense's they're murdered by Vampires in some dark alley."

"Well hey, I don't always kill them. Some of them just turn into vampires too."

"So you're not the only hippy vampire out there?"

"Oh no. Not anymore. I was at first. And then I bit this one young fella's neck who was on Acid, and it got ME stoned too. I spent the whole night grooving out to Strawberry Alarm Clock and the Dave Clark Five. The next day I realized that I had stumbled upon LSD, and all it takes is one trip to get addicted."

"If you had to guess, Count Groovula, just how many hippy vampires are now living in San Francisco?"

"Oh...I don't know. I guess about 60,000 or so."

"That is a truly terrifying thought."

"Of course it is. To a SQUARE like YOU!!"

"I GOT IT, St. Theresa's right!! You're the man that used to sit near the back and try to sneak out early" Pauline interrupted

"Look, Lady I told you don't know me now quit yer pesterin'." Replied Groovula

"Getting back to the interview"I continued" Recent rumors have circulated at an attempt to discredit tales of kids under the influence of an acid trip jumping off of buildings because they thought they could fly. Have YOU ever jumped from a building thinking you could fly due to a bad LSD trip?"

"OH YEAH,All the time!! but I just turn into a bat. But I've seen lots of kids jump off of buildings while they were on....hey listen. I aint had a bite all day, I see you got some powdered doughnuts on the counter. Would you mind if i just grab one Mrs. Faulkner? Is that alright with you Appollo, lets take 5 huh?"

"UMM NO COUNT GROOVULA, VAMPIRES ONLY DRINK BLOOD REMEMBER?!?!" I reminded Groovula

"Hey Fuck you Buster, I'm taking five for a doughnut and a smoke.You got any beers in there George?"

"OH MY GOD YOU'RE WALTER MATHAU!! That's how I know you. Can you believe it George, Walter Matthau is in our home."

"Well Holy Smoke, it IS Walter Matthau!! Wait'll I tell the guys at the plant."

"I'm NOT WALTER MATTHAU, I'M COUNT GROOVULA."

"Yes that's right, this is the dreaded Count Groovula, the latest terror to our nations youth." I added

"We just LOVED you in 'A Guide For the Married Man'."Pauline added

"OH YEAH THAT WAS A REAL HOOT!!Great job Matthau"

"Look for the last time my name is COUNT GROOVULA I'm a hippy vampire from San Francisco, NOT WALTER MATTHAU."

"Pauline get the camera let's get a picture with Matthau. Boy is your old man gonna be jealous."

"It's true, my father is such a fan of your work."

I attempted to regain control of the interview

"Look lets settle down and get back to the interview with Count Groovula, please Pauline, just put the camera away, the man's a vampire he doesn't show up on film."

"Oh to hell with it. Johnny take me to the Bus Stop." Groovula stated as he walked out without saying goodbye.

I now fear the worse, as Groovula has evaded my original plans to set him up to be arrested and is on his way back to San Francisco where the crime rate is so high, there is virtually no way of apprehending a murderer.

So to the parents of American teenagers I'll just say this; I urge you to stop your kids from joining the hippy counterculture. If not for the sake of their own lives, for the sake of the country. After all, there are now an estimated 60,000 vampires living in the U.S. all thanks to those DAMN LONGHAIRS.

Nuclear Walkman-Man

David Thorne was an MIT student doing an internship at the Northeastern Nuclear Power Research Center during the great radiation leak of 1988. While the alarms blared, and the facility was evacuated, young David sat through the entire incident, unaware of the catastrophy he was enduring. He never heard the alarms because he had his walkman on full volume; a mixed tape of Huey Lewis and the News kept him distracted. By the time he made it out of the toxic site he was devoured by radio-active molecules which had permanently fused his DNA with the now SUPER-CHARGED walkman; the batteries of which would NEVER DIE.

David survived the incident and went on to become a world renown scientist, despite the fact that the incident had left him with his walkman permanently fused into his writing hand.The Huey Lewis mix tape blares through the headphones he can never remove from his ears to this very day.Brilliant, resilliant, radioactive. David Thorne IS......Nuclear Walkman-Man!!!

We join our hero at a commencement ceremony welcoming him to his new job as a librarian at the East Greenwich Public Library in East Greenwich Rhode Island.
Governor Don Carcieri puts on a shit eating grin and takes the podium as onlookers including the class of 2010 at the East Greenwich middle school look on...

"Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls, and all-round friends of the Library, It is with my deepest honor today to welcome the world renowned nuclear physicist David Thorne into our community as an ambassador to our educational and cultural resources and development."

As the crowd burst into applause, 13 year old Charlie Majors stands with his best friend Dyllan Johnson and begin joking around as they try to kill the boredom of this field trip to their town library.

"Dude I dare you to call the Governor a douchebag." says Charlie

"No way, I'll totally get busted. You do it. You haven't had inhouse all month."

"Give me a buck and I'll do it."

"Deal"

"And as proud governor of the Ocean State I made sure those workers lost their pensions, which are now paying for such things as snacks to be served at today's event..."

"DOUCHEBAG"

The Governors shit eating grin grew twice as large as he gave a thumbs up to the crowd.

"Let's cut to the chase and welcome the REAL man of honor here today, Please welcome, YOUR NEW LIBRARIAN, Proffessor David Thorne"

The crowd burst into applause as this prestigous member of the scientific community was welcomed into their local community. As David came out waving his walkman hand "hello" to the audience, the applause grew to an awkward silence. Governor Carcieri reached out to shake David's hand and was met in return with his walkman, which he shook while pretending to get an electric shock from. The shit eating grin came back for this sure-fire photo-op, and the crowd grew completely silent from their own shock and braced themselves for Davids acceptace speech.

David made his way to the podium but tried to gauge where to stand, slightly self conscious of the fact that the noise of the walkman would not only blare over the speakers, but also aware of his own habit of constantly yelling over his Walkman. He found his spot and dove right in.

"THANK YOU EAST GREENWICH, IT'S REALLY GREAT TO BE HERE, GREAT TO BE A LIBRARIAN, GREAT TO BE YOUR LIBRARIAN I SHOULD SAY"

IT'S HIP TO BE SQARE....HIP TO BE SQUAARE

Governor Carcieri quickly cuts in to his space to wrap up the ceremony.

"And the State of Rhode Island thanks you David. Now let's go enjoy the library everyone. HECK, I might even rent a DVD - HA,HA,HA" - the shit eating grin was larger then ever as he attempted to cut the awkward tension of the now bewildered crowd."Lets get the hell out of here" he then whispered to his assistant and was quickly driven away in the back of a Limo.

Inside the library David took his post behind the main desk. He folded his arms to make his presence known - he would be a no nonsense Librarian.

The Middle School kids as well as the adults browsed for books and as he came near they buried their face in the first book in front of him, all but two people did that...Charlie and Dyllan.

David made his way to the 2 class clowns who were sitting at a table sending obscene text messages to their female classmates and laughing, disturbing the other readers.

"HEY THIS IS A LIBRARY THERES NO CLOWNING AROUND IN HERE. PEOPLE ARE HERE TO READ AND YOUR DISTURBING THEM, SO KEEP IT DOWN."

-Where else can you do a half a million things, all at a quarter to three

"I'm sorry I can't hear you buddy you want to turn that IPOD down"

"IPOD!! WHAT THE...IPOD!!! YOU LITTLE MOTHERFUCKERS!!"

"Hey, Hey, that's enough." chimed in Ms. Williams, the boys Science teacher and field trip chaperone.

"WELL THEY STARTED IT."

"I don't care WHO started you don't talk to my students like that."

"WHAT DO YOU JUST LET THEM RUN BUTT FUCKER WILD OR SOMETHING? I MEAN WHAT KIND OF TEACHER ARE YOU ANYWAYS LADY? YOU KNOW BACK AT MIT WHEN I WAS A PROFFESSOR SOME FUCKING JACKASS MADE A FACE AT ME, YOU KNOW MAKING FUN OF ME, MAKING FUN OF HUEY LEWIS,I DON'T KNOW, MAKING FUN OF SOMETHING, AND I STALKED HIM FOR A MONTH UNTIL I FOUND HIM AT A BAR IN CAMBRIDGE AND I SLASHED THE TIRES ON HIS WHELLCHAIR"

-Don't take money, don't take fame, don't take no credit card to ride on this train...

"Ohh myyy Goddd, you are a lunatic Mister and I'm gonna petition to have you fired from this library."

"HA! GOOD LUCK WITH THAT! YOU CAN'T FIRE ME I GOT CARCIERI IN MY BACK POCKET COMPLETELY PAYING HIM OFF HAVE BEEN EVER SINCE I MET HIM WHEN WE GAVE THE GRADUATION SPEECH FOR BROWN UNIVERSITY IN 2004! I OWN CARCIERI. HE'S MY BITCH, AND NOW YOU KNOW BUT WHO WILL EVER BELIEVE YOU!!!"

It was then that David remembered he was yelling over a walkman in front of a room full of witnesses and the entire library grew completely silent...

-Yes it's truuuueee
- I'm So Happy to be Stuck With You...

3OrangeWhipples Presents: The 2nd Annual Trilogy of Terror

Let us here at 3OW be the first to say HAPPY HALLOWEEN MUTHAFUNKA'S

This month our stories will be particualarly twisted in honor of the proud tradition of the trilogy of terror!!!!READ THEM AT YOUR OWN FUNKIN' RISK!!!!

Why Tom Hanks movies and Crystal Meth don't mix‏

By Josh Baskin -President of the One Hanks Commission for a Brighter Tomorow (prisoner # ACI441-220R)

If you ask me why I started smoking Crystal Meth, I'd tell you because it lasts longer than Crack. If you ask me why I started smoking Crack, I'd tell you because it was more intense than Coke. If you ask me why I forced Craig Hanks to change his name to Craig Jones at gunpoint, i'd tell you because Tom Hanks is the fucking MAN!!

You see, I am currently incarcerated, which, not to sound cliche, makes you really think about the things you've done with your life. The good, the bad, the ugly, and in some case's, if you've been convicted of the right crime, the righteous.

Now if I were to tell you that maybe there was a bright side to all that Meth I was doing,you'd think I was crazy. And if I were to be so blunt as to say that perhaps all addiction has it's place in this world, despite the damage it does to a mans soul, his family, and his society,...well, you'd probably just call that a bunch of bullshit. But the way I see it, theres a lot to be said about the moment a man finally has his moment of clarity. And for me, that moment of clarity came both 3 days deep into an ice binge and 25 minutes into "The Man With One Red Shoe".

There I was in my basement apartment, pipe in hand, pile of ice like a fuckin' glacier on the t.v tray, and Tom Hanks on the tube. "FUCKIN' BRILLIANT" I exclaimed through an exhale."HANDS DOWN!!THIS MOVIE IS FUCKIN INTENSE!!!" I must have exclaimed it too loud though, because my neighbor, Mrs. Fabien, gave the floor a whack and told me to keep it down, calling me a goddamn cracksmoker. (cracksmoker-pssshh)

But I would not keep it down.No way. Not this time.

"WHY DON'T YOU WAKE UP MRS FABIEN!! WHY DON'T YOU OPEN YOUR FUCKIN' EYES AND WAKE UP.TOM HANKS IS A NATIONAL TREASURE!! THIS RED SHOE SHOULD BE IN THE FUCKIN' SMITHSONIAN!!!AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT IT? HUH? WHATS ARE ANY OF US DOING ABOUT IT!?!? HUH!?!?"

She slammed the floor again and told me to shut the fuck up or she'd call the cops, but I was on to something, and DAMNIT, I was gonna convince Mrs. Fabien that I was right....

"ARE YOU FUCKIN' SERIOUS LADY?!?! CALL THE COPS?!?! FOR WHAT?!?! HONORING A NATIONAL TREASURE?!?! I MEAN COME ON. WHO ELSE BUT TOM HANKS COULD TEACH SALLY FIELDS TO BE A STAND UP COMEDIAN? NOT YOU!! THAT'S FOR FUCKIN' SURE!!!"


Within minutes there was a pounding at the door from the Police demanding I open up.

And there I was...centered in my moment of clarity.

I had been watching Tom Hanks movies for 88 straight hours now since I scored my last quarter pound of Crank, and after arguing with several of my regular customers, Mrs. Fabien,Mr. Fabien, Mrs. Fabiens son Doug, and even after enduring a phsical altercation with Beatrice (my mail-lady) I realized, people don't give Tom Hanks the respect that he deserves. WELL THAT WAS ABOUT TO CHANGE...

I quickly pushed my entertainment center and Marshall half stack in front of the door, rounded up all my crank, and after smashing the window of my basement apartment and climbing out, I decided then and there that I would be the founder of the One Hanks Commission for a Brighter Tommorow.

I got on the phone with my lawyer. I knew it was late but DAMNIT this was important!!

"Jesus Christ Marc, it's 4:30 in the morning. This better be good" My attorney stated as he answered the phone. I really had no time to explain the details. I was busy running from the cops and I needed a hit, so I cut to the chase.

"Meet me behind the dumpster at the KFC on Garfield Ave....Oh and bring a notary of the public....9AM SHARP"

CLICK

I made a clean getaway and made it to the dumpster. I knew time was tight and I had better get my plan ready.Luckily sleep was out of the question anyways.

I leaned against the dumpster and drew out my plan using a packet of Ranch dressing on a piece of cardboard. I pondered signing it in blood to make it official, and after a real POWERHIT, I realized it was a good idea just to lose a little blood. You know...to help get fucked up.

At quarter to 9 my attorney showed up with a dude named Roy Ryan sitting in the backseat. I knew Roy. Good choice for a notary of the public.

I hopped in the front seat, took a hit that could smoke out the Bronx, pulled out my 9mm and assured them that I would be their only client for the day. I then asked my attorney to pull into the Starbucks where I proceeded to buy us all a round of latte's...just to show I was a cool guy.

After showing them the plan I had laid out in Ranch dressing we were soon on our way to hold up the social security office and force anybody with the last name of Hanks to change it. My attorney tried reasoning with me by stating the odds of finding anyone with the last name Hanks were slim to none, but when you smoke enough Meth, you pretty much become psychic. And sure enough I was right.

"EVERYBODY BE COOL AND NOBODY GET'S HURT!!" I yelled as we entered the social security office while putting a round into the floor." I WANNA SEE ID'S NOW!! NOW!! NOW!!"

The mostly elderly crowd were quite startled as I rounded them up inside the office along with my attorney and Notary.

After taking a MONSTER pull off my ice-pipe I explained that I was not out to hurt anyone.However, the way I saw it, nobody in the U.S. of A. deserved the last name Hanks unless they starred in TV's Bosom Buddies, which left out everybody in the country except 1 guy who's name I don't know.

It was then that I saw an elderly gentleman attempting to sneak out.

"STOP THAT GUY ROY!!!" I yelled while exhaling

Fuckin Roy. The guy just stood there. So luckily I had a sudden burst of energy and pounced.I tackled the old man, rolled him on his stomach and stole his wallet. Sure enough I found him....CRAIG HANKS!!

I held the 9mm to his held and asked him where the fuck he got off stealing the honorable Tom Hanks name. He just sat there looking like there was something wrong with ME.

I ordered the clerk to draw up some papers with my attorney for a legal name change including a new Social Security number. Thats when Craig "Hanks" started in with the whining. 'how dare you make me give up my name! My father stormed the beaches of Normandy'

"YEAH WELL DID YOUR FATHER SAVE PRIVATE RYAN ONCE HE GOT THERE !!!" I quickly replied. That shut him the fuck up.

Just as Roy stamped the paperwork officially bringing America officially closer to a One Hanks America the phone rang. It was the cops.

"Come on out you fuckin crackhead your surrounded" I was told by a Seargant Jennings

"I aint a fuckin Crackhead you asshole I do Meth!" I proudly corrected him.

After some more juvenile namecalling we got down to business. He asked me my demands and I told him I wanted to watch Splash. The name calling resumed after that.

After consulting with my attorney I realized I wouldn't walk away on this one. I let everyone out but my attorney, Roy, the clerk, and Craig Jones. I smoked as much Ice as I ever have in a 5 minute period and got back on with Jennings.

"OK PIG, this is what we're gonna do. You're gonna take me alive THIS TIME, but you'll never take the Commission. My last demand is that I get to change my name to a Hanks character."

"OK PUNK!! But on 1 condition. It can't be Charlie Wilson."

Although I didn't understand why he insisted on this condition I agreed to it. 10 minutes later, I was no longer Marc Leclair. I was Josh Baskin. 15 minutes later I was arrested, beaten severely, and finally began coming down...what a fuckin' bummer.

So here I am incarcerated just shy of 6 hard years later. Do I have any regrets, sure I do. I shouldn't have signed my plan in blood. Just gave the DA more to work with. But what are you gonna do.

Other than that I stand by the Commission to this very day. I have yet to gain any other members at the time of this writing, but I remain optimistic. After all, if theres one thing prison teaches a man it's that if you get the Latin Kings on your side, you can accomplish anything.

I don't want any trouble from the cable company‏

By Angelo

There's been a lot of cable trucks driving by my townhouse lately. At first I was only slightly concearned by this, seeing as how I didn't have cable. When I received a flyer from Cox Cable telling me that stealing cable is a federal offense carrying penalties of 1 year in prison and up to $10, 000.00 in fines, I realized I better not take any chances. I decided to contact Cox cable and let them know that I got their message loud and clear. However since I don't use the telephone, I had to walk to the local service office which was 6 miles away. By the time I arrived I decided it would probably be for the best for all of us if I just went ahead and order the cable. That way at least I'll have a paper trail showing that I've complied. The man at the counter offered to set me up with a deluxe digital package which included every movie channel offered by Cox, plus a DVR to record television shows on my own schedule. I said it didn't really matter because I won't be turning my television on anyway. If they can tap an ordinary telephone line, who knows what they're capable of with a fiber optic cable. Then he told me I'd have to let an installer into the house to hook up the cable, and I got really uncomfortable. I says to him "look, just send me the bill and I'll pay it" but he wouldn't go for it. Finally I just told him "l guess theres nothing I can do, if I gotta get the cable then I gotta get the cable.". The man at the counter said "you don't HAVE to get cable" to me. I said "yeah right Buddy, do I look like I was born yesterday?"...well I didn't really say that. But I thought it.

So the following Tuesday a guy named Tony came to my townhouse to install the cable. He told me he needed to get into my spare bedroom to run the cable to the utility pole out front.I wasn't cool with that at all, but he wouldn't listen when I told him he "could if he really had to, but I'd really prefer that he didn't".I heard some voices while he was in there, and I know he was talking to my treadmill.By that time I had locked myself in the bathroom and barracaded the door with a hamper. I asked him politely not to talk to the treadmill, but he made up a lie about trying to reach his dispatcher on his Nextel. I watched him like a hawk the whole time he was outside from the side of my bathroom window. I'm pretty sure he hooked up a camera on the utility pole outside but I wasn't gonna say anything to him about it. Once he left, I unplugged the television and draped a thick quilt over it after turning it completely around. Now I gotta pay $114.92 every month for the Cox digital deluxe cable plus DVR package and I can't even watch my television anymore.It's too bad because I used to like to watch the ballgame when it was on. But it's all for the best. I just don't want any trouble from the cable company.

Dill Doughnuts

By Don Neely

I've never been much of a business man, although I'd like to be. One thing I am however is a guy who is hip with whats "in" in America. And in these modern times, the do it yourself empowerment of Emeril Lugassi mixed with the sudden influx of Whole Foods has given Americans a love for good organic foods with healthy ingrediants. So naturally I decided to use the latest health rage to my own advantage.

Now some folks got themselves a real sweet tooth if you know what I'm saying. Well I been told that I got a whole mouth full of sweet teeth. So that being said, I began asking myself, how can a guy like me, (you know a man of the times) satisfy said sweet teeth in an organic and healthy manner? So to Whole Foods I went.

I was pleasantly surprised with the amount of baked goods and pastry they had using alternative organic flour, however I did not find any doughnuts (you see doughnuts are my only vice). So I asked myself, "OK Donny, what would Emeril do now?" Well I tell you what he'd do. He'd make his OWN doughnuts, and he'd make a million bucks too. So that's what I was gonna do.

So to the drawing board I went. Being such a trend savy guy I knew that if I could invent an organic doughnut using creatively healthy ingrediants, I could get Whole Foods to sell them and make me rich.

So after a few days in the kitchen using the finest ingrediants Whole Foods sells, I cracked the recipe for Donny's Organic Doughnuts first official doughnut.

I figured I'd start off with the recipe that I came up with using Dill. I discovered that Dill gives doughnuts a real unexpected zesty flavor. And besides the Chili Powder doughnut just wasn't working out.Not yet anyway. Needs some tweaking.

Now like I said before, I'm not much of a business man, but I figured 'Donny, if your gonna sell a doughnut, you better get out there and make some phone calls'. So I get a phone number for a buyer at Whole Foods corporate and I made my very first sales call.

"Whole Foods new accounts purchasing you're speaking to Melinda how can I help you"

Stay cool Donnie, I thought to myself.

"Hey there Melinda, Donny here with an offer you just can't say no to."

"OK Donnie, I'm listening what do you got."

"DILLDOUGHNUTS!!!"

"EXCUSE ME?!?!"

"I gotta big ol' sacka DillDoughnuts here that are gonna make your mouth water."

"AHHHH..."

"Melinda I am LITERALLY HOLDING MY DILLDOUGHNUTS IN MY HANDS AS WE SPEAK, and let me tell ya Melinda...I want these DILLDOUGHNUTS IN MY MOUTH. I want YOU to want my DILLDOUGHNUTS, and most of all Melinda I want to see the faces of all those whole foods customers when I show up at Whole Foods and wip out my DILLDOUGHNUTS."

"SIR I REALLY DON'T THINK..."

"I'm gonna say come on and get one of Big Don's GIANT DILLDOUGHNUTS."

"UMMMMMM...."

"Come on Melinda. You'll love these giant DILLDOUGHNUTS so much that when you reach the middle, you'll tell yourself, 'If there was a way, I'd eat the hole too.'"

"Listen SIR I really don't think our customers are going to..."

"OH I KNOW what your customers are gonna do. It's gonna be a grand ol' day that EVERYONE'S gonna remember,when I display my DILLDOUGHNUTS down there at that Whole Foods. Come on Melinda close your eyes and picture it like I am doing right now. First a single mother comes by with little Johnny, who's like 'Mommy,Mommy what are THOSE', and of course being the enlightened mother, she'll look at my DILLDOUGHNUTS and say to little Johnny, 'NO!!' And I'll say, 'come on MOM, THESE DILLDOUGHNUTS ARE GOOD FOR THE BOY!! They'll put hair on his chest.' And LOOK MELINDA, here comes Granny, and she's saying, you know sonny It's been such a long long time since I've had anything like that, because you know I AM OLDER, but after just one look at those big tasty DILLDOUGHNUTS I JUST CAN'T RESIST. GO AHEAD AND PUT IT IN MY MOUTH AND I'LL PAY YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT!! And theres her husband, and HE SERVED HIS COUNTRY IN VIETNAM MELINDA!!! AND HE SAY's SAME HERE BOY GIVE ME THOSE DILLDOUGHNUTS I'm GOOD FOR THE MONEY, but I'll SAY NO SIR, I WILL NOT TAKE MONEY FROM A VETERAN FOR A TASTE OF BIG DON'S DILLDOUGHNUTS, THAT'S WHERE I DRAW THE LINE, I'M A MAN OF PRINCIPLE..."

CLICK!!!

"Damnit Donnie, you just can't keep your cool can ya" I asked myself. But you know something...SCREW WHOLE FOODS!! If they won't let me put my DILLDOUGHNUTS on their shelves because I refuse to charge a veteran then I don't need them anyway.

I guess that's just why I'm not a good business man. I got too much scruples. And even though I never sold doughnut one, I learned a valuable lesson about business. And at least I tried. But what are you gonna do. It's a free country and I can't force my DILLDOUGHNUTS on anyone.

Not without my Roomba

"Look at 'em go. He's got a future in NASCAR I tell you..What a horse!!! Got his old man's heart. Not like you Jerry, you deadbeat loser.You're a softy like all your cousins. Not my nephews, I say. That's all your mothers screwed up DNA, just like you.Not my new little buddy J.R. here though... he's a sportsfan ANY father can be proud of!! J.R. got his daddy's good looks too. Don't Ya? I thought so. How about a steak little fella? Medium-rare, right?How 'bot a little bit a that extra juice on the side? Goddamn, just look at him. Jerry here's a hot dog."



"Linda, how about kicking Jerry out of his room and making some room for J.R. He's been with us long enough that he shows a responsibility our son Jerry doesn't have. I'll put a coat of fresh paint on the walls too. !"



"Jerry, you gotta move into the garage. Now git yer stuff and get moving. J.R.'s gotta go to sleep soon or his battery will die."



"Fucking Roomba. I hate that thing." Jerry had been verbally abused since his dad got the robotic vacuum. All the medals Jerry won in football, the honor roll, none of it mattered. His dad loved the Roomba more than him.



"You hear that Son! J.R. just finished cleaning the house! Yells Jerry's dad as he points to his nemesis, the Roomba. "God damn thing does more than you!. We're going out for a couple of beers. You stay here and watch your sister.



Jerry's dad stormed out with the Roomba following him.



The phone rings an hour later. Jerry picks up, "Zouuuuuuuu"" "Haha, Jerry , that's the Roomba telling you to fuck off. We're loaded! Boy can J.R. drink. Takes after his old man.! Did I ever tell you that your outta my will. That's right. Ol' Roombie is in there now. He gets the house and the Mercedes. " Click.



The phone rings again. "Jerry can you vacuum the hallway. I'm gonna give J.R. the night off. He's too drunk anyway. He might run into a wall or something and you know he ain't covered by my insurance. We'l l be home right after we go to the titty bar."



"Hey Jerry, can you come pick us up? Turns out J.R. is quite the ladies man. We picked up some babes but J.R.'s dust bin got filled up with the 'pubes, know what I'm saying? Nevermind. You couldn't find this place anyway, you dumb shit."



The next morning Jerry walked into the kitchen and his dad and the Roomba were cuddled together beneath a case of Bud. Jerry had enough. He picked up the sledgehammer from the garage and went into he kitchen. He had a rage he had never felt before. As he came in the front, his dad was standing there.



"Now, what do you think you're doing with that, boy?" I hope you ain't gonna do something you'll regret. Because I regret every second I have to look at your miserable face. As the tears ran down Jerry's face, his feet go knocked out from under him and he fell on his ass.



"That's right J.R.. Knock his pansy ass down! J.R. continued to ram Jerry in the mouth and nuts. J.R. kept coming. Jerry got to his feet and grabbed J.R. and brought him in the backyard. He threw the Roomba into their aboveground pool."



"Nooooo!!!" yelled Jerry's dad. He dove in the pool and swam underwater. 2 minutes later he came up with the Roomba. ?HE placed on the lawn and called 911. "HELP! NO! HELP!. He tried CPR but it was of no use. J.R. was gone.



"My only son! My only son! Not like this..Not like this.."



Jerry's dad filed charges against his son but they did not hold up in court. Jerry and his dad do not speak to this day.



J.R. is buried in Overhill Cemetary with an empty plot next to him for Jerry's dad. His dad thought about cremating him, but that's not what J.R. would have wanted since he would become the very thing he vacuumed. So, he was buried with an empty plot beside him reserved for Jerry's dad. The Roomba's headstone reds "J.R. , sucked up life, one room at a time."

You Can't Touch My Prices!!!

Hey everybody Dan Marino here - YES THE Dan Marino of Marino's Marina Supply, reminding you that with the recession as bad as it is, and the high cost of fuel sky-sky-SKYROCKETING, never has there EVER been a better time to NOT BUY A BOAT!! That's right you heard it straight from Uncle Danny's mouth. Stretch your entertainment budget for every penny you got!!wanna impress your new girlfriend?Then you should take her down to Epcott, they've really fixed the place up. STICK IT TO THE MAN!! BOYCOTT GAS CONSUMING HOBBIES and for GOD'S SAKE...DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT BUYING A BOAT from Marino's Marina Supply!! AND Nowhere in the state is better to NOT buy a boat then Marino's Marina supply. We got a full stock of everything from Jetski's to 24 footers to MARINO's KING SIZE 65 footers, We're the only game in town and I plan on keeping everyone of these motherfuckers!!! SO PISS OFF!!

(Marino walks in front of the deck of one of his boats marked PRICED TO SELL on it.)

Now I know what your thinking, Danny your a business man, why don't you want to sell me a boat? EASY!! my wife doesn't come here... EVER! and this is the only place I got to hide my Barely Legal's (reaches over the deck and pulls up arm fulls of barely legal magazines, walks over to the next boat and drops them into that deck. a few spare magazines fall on the ground of the parking lot and an 10 year old red-headed boy quickly runs up, snatches it and runs off without Danny even noticing him.)

Now you're probably saying to yourself, this is CRAZY!! This guy actually owns a boat lot just to hide his porn-stash? YES HE DOES!! I married for money, and my wife, God bless her, is a REAL UPTIGHT WASPY BITCH! and this shit simply DOES NOT fly at home!!In fact, if I get caught with even ONE of these barely legals, she would divorce my ass in a New York MINUTE. I would actually have to make a REAL living by SELLING MY BOATS, and in this economy, how the fuck am I supposed to make any god-damn money doing that?!?!?!

So now I KNOW WHAT ELSE you're thinking, If this guy really doesn't want his wife to know about his secret porno stash, and he doesn't want any business, then why the heck is he advertising on TV? WELL I TOLD YOU, my wife is a WASP and she only watches Martha Stewart!! and I DON'T ADVERTISE DURING MARTHA STEWART!!! It's right here in my contract, in black and white!! And to answer your other question, I don't know how many of you viewers at home have ever been caught masturbating in the lobby of a sales office, but it happens to me FAR TOO OFTEN!! AND IT's TIME TO CUT THE SHIT AMERICA!!

And if you think THAT's ALL ...THEN YOUR THE ONE THAT'S CRAZY, and maybe a little STUPID TOO.'Cause I'm also here to tell you that if you think you're gonna come down to MY boat lot and try to haggle a good deal on one of MY boats by threatening to tell my wife, well let me tell YOU this... I KNOW JOE PESCI!! (short angry Italian guy comes on screen who is clearly NOT Joe Pesci) That's right tough guy, PESCI WORKS FOR ME!! And if you think Joe Pesci was an animal in films like Goodfella's and Casino, well then you aint seen him off-camera AND YOU DON'T WANT TO!! This guys a real fuckin' hot head, and you don't want to make him mad. Lot of accidents around town these days. ALL I'M SAYING!!!

SO COME ON DOWN TO MARINO's MARINA SUPPLY, THE CITIES ONLY SELLER OF NEW AND PRE-OWNED BOATS,JETSKI'S,LIFEJACKETS, and WATERSKIING EQUIPMENT, and then just turn it right around... and GET THE FUCK OUTA HERE!!!


Marino's Marina Supply, located at 384 Garfiled Avenue across the street from the Dairy Queen. Open 7 days a week from 10 AM to 10:30 PM. Open on most major Holidays. We're also certified to sell and renew fishing licenses.