Tuesday, May 21, 2013


That snake is big enough to wear a hat. Not like a specially made snake hat, but a real ass Bobby Bonilla-sized human hat.

American hero, Jason Leon, single-handedly wrestled and killed a 19-foot Burmese python near Miami. Is “hero” too strong of a word for a man who killed a giant beast? No.

Jason Leon wasn’t out hunting or even looking for a fight. He was just out driving at night when he saw part of the monster serpent. He grabbed it and dragged it out onto the street, which is just something you do to a massive reptile. Once he saw that it was a 19-foot devil, Jason was like “Shit, snake, I gotta wrestle you.”

He didn’t even want to kill it, he just wanted to kick the snake’s ass for a while and reassert human superiority over the invasive species. “Go back to Burma, dick.” That kind of stuff.

But after about 10 minutes of wrestling with the snake, the python started to wrap itself around Jason and constrict, so he did what he had to do and pulled a blade on the bastard. Old school and personal.

Let’s put the size on this python in perspective. It was 19 feet long. That snake's so big it could dunk. Not only could the snake dunk, it could keep going up and change a light bulb on the ceiling of a room built on top of the basketball goal, all without jumping. Fuckin’ Christ, what if it could jump?

When Jason was asked what he plans to do with the snake skin, he said, “I was thinking I’d put it up in my bedroom, but I don’t think there’s enough room on the walls to hold all of it. I’ll probably roll it up and keep it in a vase in the living room for now.” He’s going to put it in a fucking vase in the living room, and he says it as if there was never any other use for a vase, like say flowers. Hero.

There’s only one thing left to do now: send Jason to Oklahoma to fight some tornadoes. Or he could stay and fight snakes in Florida. There are still thousands more giant Burmese pythons slithering through America’s penis, so that’s kind of a “thing” to put on your radar.

Thursday, May 16, 2013


"Well, here we are again: the Tea Party audits, the Benghazi cover up, and the AP’s phone records. Same shit, different day. Welcome to it."

"Before we begin, I’d like to thank the Prime Minister of Turkey, Tayyip Erdogan, for being here. I’m sure he feels a bit like a child who accidentally showed up to his parents’ divorce mediation to get his allowance. It was all a big misunderstanding, but like hell if anyone’s leaving without their cash. I can’t remember exactly why you’re here Tayyip, but I’m sure it has something to do with us giving you money because you’re basically the only Muslim nation that Americans sort of like."

“I don't knnow- how do you say, ‘Ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-ching?’”

"I’d also like to extend my thanks to the Marines for their service to our nation by holding these umbrellas while they get soaked. All the time and effort you have put into your training has clearly paid off. Fuck my life." 

"First, I’d like to address the IRS audits of Tea Party groups. Were conservative groups wrongly targeted? Yes. But you have to understand, I had absolutely no reason to believe that a federal government agency could accomplish anything on that scale. Surely the Tea Party can see this."

"To the Tea Party, I will say this. Part of your stated mission is to drastically cut or even eliminate the IRS, and you filed for tax exempt status with the IRS and then got audited. What the fuck did think would happen?"

"If I told this guy that I was planning to eliminate the umbrella corps in the Marines, do you think he would still hold this umbrella for me?"

"Calm down, we’re not eliminating the umbrella corps. The umbrella lobby would never let it happen." 

"As for fixing the Internal Revenue Service, we have fired IRS Commissioner Steven Miller, approximately three weeks before he was set to retire. So, yes, he’ll still get his full federal pension. Again, fuck my life." 

"And to the people on the left, why have you given the tea party some sort of trademark on calling bullshit on the federal government? Can’t you just take off your blue jersey for one moment to see how fucked all aspects of the government are?"

"Hi, I’m a journalist. I don’t like the Tea Party, but I also don’t think I like the idea of politically motivated audits. What should I think?"

"Are you fucking serious? Because you look like you're fucking serious, but you can't be fucking serious."

"Ok, back on track here-- as far as Benghazi goes, that was just a simple government fuck up that we attempted to cover up, and then we fucked up the cover up as well. It’s pretty simple, text book government stuff." 

"We released hundreds of pages emails that clearly show that it was all just general governmental incompetence, and we also released several hundred email attachments of Scumbag Steve memes. That’s how the State Department likes to reply. And yes, they always reply all."

"Hi, I’m a journalist. I don’t think I like the cover up of Benghazi, but I did like the story you gave us about a YouTube video starting the whole thing, because it’s new media and interactive and other buzzwords we’re supposed to say. What should I think?"

"Jesus, really? At least this makes me feel better for only being part of the problem. I mean, I knew things were going to be fucked when I started this job, but if I can speak candidly here: things are really, reeeaally fucked. Fucked all over. At this point, I really believe it may be hopeless. But, um, as far as your job goes—I don’t know—how about you just write what happened and publish all the emails in a gallery people can click through. People love to click, and you’ll rack up lots of pageviews." 

"Now, let’s discuss the AP phone tapping. C’mon people. You’re journalists. You’re supposed to be smarter than that. If you use your cell phone to discuss government secrets with a CIA agent, we’re going to listen. We’re always listening. It’s what we do. Did you even read that shit you wrote about the Patriot Act? Or did you just publish the talking points the government sent you without reading them? Never mind, I know the answer."

"Hi, I’m a journalist, and my phone recently died, and I lost all my contacts. Could you send me your copy?"


"And finally, to the Republican congressmen complaining that we are monitoring their communications in the House, I would like to say this: some of you have very interesting internet search histories. I believe we’re done here."

"Ok. Now, how much you need slugger?"

Tuesday, May 14, 2013


"Well, hello, the press. What’s new?"

"Obviously, I can’t tell you anything regarding the examination of phone records, because, well, you’re the press, and I don’t want to leak any information. I mean, what would happen then? You’d be all 'LOL IDK- what happened?' Because I read your text messages."

"Too meta?"

"Gary Pruitt, how come you don’t call your mother more?"

"Because I have your phone records. That’s a joke. And a threat. Mainly a threat, but it’s funny to me."

“Ok, fine. This is a very serious issue—a very grave issue. I mean, if the Department of Justice, the FBI, and the CIA can’t pull one over on a bunch of J-School grads and communications majors, what fucking hope do we have with China?”

“Fuck you. You’re all getting audited.”

"Awesome, right?"


"Awesome, sir."

Monday, May 13, 2013


“In the past three days, there has been a lot of talk about the attacks in Benghazi. Now let me make this as clear as possible…”

“This entire situation involves many parties. It involves the White House. It involves the State Department. It involves the CIA. It even involves television broadcasts.”

“Now let me also make this as clear to you as possible. All these people lie to you. They lie to you every day about almost everything. It’s their job. They are politicians, spies, and TV types. What the fuck did you expect?”

“Sometimes we lie to you to protect you. That’s the good stuff. Sometimes we lie to you to protect ourselves. That’s more common. Sometimes we lie to you just because we lie, and it’s what we fucking do. That’s most often the case.”

“We lie to make things easier. We lie to make things smoother. We lie because we’re all so shit deep in an illusion built on lies, that if we told the truth, it would blow your fucking mind like a bullshit smoothie with no lid on the Vitamix. By the way, Vitamix-- total bullshit lie-- it's just a blender.”

“Your life is a lie. All of it. Even for those of you who chose not to live a life of lies, everything is  still  a fucking lie, because our society is so firmly entrenched in a bullshit, manipulated, artificial reality that it is impossible to live an honest existence. Nice pants you’re wearing, three kids died making your chinos, and you just smile like you didn’t know, as you  sip on your blood coffee. Your life is a fucking lie, and those are shitty pants that will fall apart after three washes. I can't believe I have to explain this shit to you. This is basic stuff people."

“Let me give you an example of how many lies I have to tell on a daily basis. Last week, at one meeting I spoke with Stephen Hawking, a crippled Native American, a lady in the Marines, and then there was also some other Indian looking guy there, because we weren't specific enough about what type of Indian we needed in the casting call.”

“There’s the picture. How many times you think I told the truth in that meeting? Not fucking once. ‘Oh, hi Stephen Hawking—you’re fucked. Smartest man in the fucking universe and you’re all fucked up and shit. You can't even talk or take a piss. Have a nice Tuesday. Oh hi, lady Marine back there. Get raped by your commanding officer today while putting your life on the line for your country? Thanks for your service.’ What about the crippled Indian? There isn’t one positive thing you could say to that man that would not be a lie. Other type of Indian we accidentally brought in? ‘Nice to see you, glad we brought you in. This isn’t a totally racially insensitive public relations fuck up. Love the vest.’”

“Back me up here, important British guy.”

“Everything is a lie.”

“Thank you. Ping pong?


Wednesday, May 8, 2013


"No ma'am. I'm yard art."

A woman in Port St. Lucie, Florida saw what she thought was “alligator yard art” and stopped to take a picture of it. The “art” hissed at her, because it was actually an alligator, who was later lassoed by police and animal control.

A few key takeaways from this story:
  • In Port St. Lucie it is considered reasonable that “alligator yard art” exists.
  • In Port St. Lucie “alligator yard art” is valued enough to be photographed by a passing stranger.
  • “Alligator yard art” is usually just a real ass alligator waiting to fucking eat you.


"I understand that 17 Air Force officers have been stripped of their authority to launch and control nuclear missile due to general incompetence and potential sharing of nuclear codes."

"That is correct, but rest assured we have come down upon the offenders with the full force of the United States Air Force. We are tearing them down and rebuilding them in our image."

"Could you outline specific action steps to prevent re-occurrences?"

"Yes, sir. Each of the officers is undergoing 60 to 90 days of intensive retraining on Facebook privacy settings, and we are giving them haircuts."

"High and tight!"

"Are there any further steps being taken?"

"Yes. In fact, when we questioned our officer in charge of prevention of sexual assault on nuclear weapons…"

"You have an officer in charge of prevention of sexual assault on nuclear weapons?"



"He sexually assaulted a nuclear weapon."

"I would like to know more about the assault. For instance, when a young man decides he is ready to sexually assault a nuclear weapon, what happens next?" 

"What do you mean?"

"Well, does he rub his penis on it, is there some butt stuff?"

"Does he cup the giant, hard Cold War Era missile’s balls, licking and kissing tenderly to try to work his way into the weapons icy, repressed, and locked heart, or is it just the hardcore butt stuff?"

"It’s fucking rough and disgraceful."

"Tickle, tickle?"

"No sir. Rough, forceful, and disgraceful."

 "Tickle, tickles, please?"

"If I may interject here sir, I believe there was a little tickle, tickle."

"Mmm hmmm. Tickle, tickle."

"What the fuck, y’all?"

"Go to hell, Claire." 

"Well, that covers that. Greatest country in the world."