Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Tiger Woods Comes Forward About Favre, Sterger, Crazy Halloween Party

In a story that surprised...well, no one at all, Tiger Woods came to the defense of Minnesota Vikings quarterback, Brett Favre, saying with absolute certainty that Favre was on the one who sent sexually suggestive texts and voice mails along with lewd photos to former NY Jets employee, Jenn Sterger. "Trust me," Woods proclaimed, "That's just not Brett."

In the week leading up to the Monday night showdown between the Vikings and Jets, allegations surfaced against legendary quarterback, Brett Favre, claiming that while he was a NY Jet he had sent sexually explicit voice mails, texts, and nude photos to Sterger who was working as a sports reporter for the Jets at the time.

According to, Favre sent voice mails and texts inviting Sterger to come back to his hotel room after practice. When his advances were rejected a third party attempted to convince Sterger to date Favre. Sterger declined, commenting, "If I did something like that I might end up in a dumpster." Favre, whose feeling were hurt by Sterger's insinuation about how he may or may not have disposed of past mistresses, is alleged to have e-mailed Sterger photos of his penis.

Favre declined to comment on the accusations, simply stating, "More will be revealed," which coincidentally is what he texted to Sterger prior to sending the penis photos. Sterger was not available for comment, but a close friend of hers says that she's a really honest person.

Was the leaking of this story the week prior to the Vikings-Jets match-up a coincidence? Is this a ploy by the NY Jets to get into the future Hall of Famer's head? Is this gamesmanship on the part of Jets coach and master mind, Rex Ryan? Does Sterger have ulterior motives to coming forward? Turns out, it's none of the above.

Just minutes after the clock ran out on the Minnesota Vikings this evening, an embarrassed Tiger Woods came forward to clear the air. Woods, whose reputation and his golf game has suffered mightily in the wake of infidelity, sex addiction, and divorce, was just  beginning to rebuild his empire after being left by sponsors, spouses, and swing coaches alike. Now it appears it may all be for naught.

"I'd like to begin by apologizing to Brett for getting his good name dragged through the mud," began Tiger at a press conference he held under a strict no reporters, no questions policy. Only his mother and our Hollywood Underground Insider were allowed to attend. "I never meant to hurt anyone - especially not Brett. I met Jenn Sterger three years ago at an off-the-hook Halloween party in NY. I was dressed as Brett Favre because I've always been a huge fan, and Jenn showed up as  the hottest little referee I've ever seen. We hit it off right away, and by the end of the night I'd scored a touchdown, a two-point conversion, and a dirty Mark Sanchez, if you know what I mean."

Woods paused, clearly getting emotional, "I mean I tapped the hell out that. After that I couldn't stop thinking about her. The way she kept screaming 'Foul. Illegal use of the hands." It was awesome. So I pursued her, but I didn't want her to know I wasn't Brett Favre because with all the Maxim and Playboy photos she didn't seem like the kind of girl I could keep hush-hush. So wrote her texts as Favre. I called her with my best Mississippi accent. And when that didn't work, I sen the pictures of my penis."

Wiping away a tear, Woods added, "Everyone knows know that I'm an adulterer and a sex addict. I've lost my swing, my competitive drive, and I've been through a very public divorce. But coming forward today has been the hardest thing I've ever done - admitting to my fans, my family, and my sponsors that I, Tiger Woods, perhaps the greatest golfer off all time, have a white man's penis."

"That's all. No questions, mom," Woods said before disappearing behind a curtain.

Favre has certainly been responsible for his share of picks in his time, but not these ones...

Tiger and Sterger at Halloween Party
Tiger and Sterger on Blue Screen Dance Floor

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Dora Explores Litigation Against Nickelodeon

One of Nickelodeon’s top animated stars Dora Marquez (AKA Dora the Explorer) is suing the popular children's network. The young actress and active member of the Animated Screen Actors Guild who has played Dora since 2007 says she was duped into a contract that cheated her out of millions of dollars. A lawsuit filed on Wednesday in Manhattan's Supreme Court against Nickelodeon, MTV and parent company Viaco, claims Dora wasn’t fairly compensated for hours of overtime, and was paid less than minimum wage for promotional work surrounding the show. Nickelodeon also coveted Dora's frequent flyer miles and put them towards future explorations without her permission.

Dora's adventure with the legal system began last month when she accused the network of using her popularity to unjustly enrich themselves with branded products and stereotypical action figures. Dora's cousin, Diego, a high-powered environ mental lawyer and NYU grad, is representing her in what has become a very public trial. Asked to comment on the proceedings, Diego said, "My cousin Dora has worked hard for Nickelodeon. For years now she has been exploring according to their whims without complaint or question, trying to subtly carry the values and traditions she holds dear and also teaching viewers a little Spanish along the way. I believe Dora deserves what she is asking for, which is why I am taking precious time away from my Animal Rescue Shelter in the ever-depleting rain forest to represent her." 

In the pre-trial hearing, Boots the monkey was by Dora's side, trying to help her solve the puzzle of the legal system's language. Asked to comment on the trial Boots remarked, "I love riddles. Call me riddles. Call me Mr. Riddles. I also love nuts, and chocolate, and baseball, and Rojo, and I love, I love, I love..." Boots was held in contempt moments after court was in session.

Representing the networks, of course, is the always dramatic entertainment lawyer, Swiper, trying yet again to steal what is righteously Dora’s. As he entered the courtroom, Dora uttered the words “Swiper no swiping” three times, but an excited Swiper said, “You’re too late,” then proceeded with jury selection. Dora, who almost always remains positive, looked completely deflated.

Then, in a surprise twist, Tico the Squirrel ran into the courtroom carrying Dora’s purple backpack with him. As he handed it to Dora he spoke in English saying, “You’re welcome.” Dora smiled, reached into her backpack, pulled out a freshly baked tray of Cowboy Cookies and placed them under Swiper’s nose. Swiper let out a shriek of delight, ate the entire tray of cookies, and slipped into a temporary diabetic coma.

The exasperated judge, exhausted from banging his gavel, ruled in favor of Dora and ordered Nickelodeon to give her a raise, upgrade her exploring transportation options, and add dental and vision for both her and Boots. Moments later, The Fiesta Trio – a grasshopper, a snail, and a frog – appeared seemingly from nowhere to congratulate Dora with a few seconds of music and a giant pitcher of margaritas.

Bueno, Dora, bueno.  


Friday, October 8, 2010

Facebook Chat Not Showing Up Leads to...Yikes...Talking

In a story that may or may not be related to the previous post, many Facebook users are complaining that their chat windows are not opening up. The crisis has taken on international implications in less than twenty-four hours. People from all corners of the globe are reaching their cyber hands out for help.

"I have at least two friends that I know of that won't show up on the i-phone app even though they are on line," reports Oklahoma native, J.J. Jimmer. "Anyone else having this problem? I would really like to get it figured out since I prefer to chat on my i-phone that dial numbers and stuff."

"Yeah, I have the same issue," says Paris Townsend of Paris, Texas. "I even had to call a friend of mine when he wouldn't show as online to me. It's that way with other friends, too. It's really eating up my minutes."

"I know," chimes Katja Chacon of Norway, "Facebook is getting really annoying. What am I supposed to do with all of these friends when I can't chat with them? There's no way I can afford real communication."

"What wrong to my confirmasi code to Facebook i-phone, yeah, yeah?" added another user of unknown origin. Friends of his were even more horrified by the possibility of actually talking to him.

As the hours crept by with no solution in sight, Facebook users began to lose hope. Many logged off and resigned to a life of loneliness and re-reading "shats" (saved chats), while others braved the number options on their i-phones and called their friends. Real, voice to voice conversations ensued, and several things happened in quick succession.

1. Millions of users discovered that LOL is not an appropriate response to jokes on the telephone while other struggled with an inability to verbally express the wide range of emoticons they were used to having at their disposal.

2. Telephone service providers stocks rose temporarily while Facebook's took a major mid-day plunge. An AT&T rep called our hotline to report, "OMG. AFAIC, CWYL." And he meant it facetiously.

3. When people realized how difficult the status of having 500 Facebook Friends in the face of on-line Chat-atstrophe, many returned to their home pages and began whittling off the 450 they barely remembered from high school, met on a boat in Greece, slept with at a night club, had a crush on in kindergarten, or wish they really knew 'cuz they're pretty.

4. Facebook's Social Network quickly shrank from 500 million to the original founders and the guys who made the crappy movie about them.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Men Like It On Facebook, Too...

In the past twenty-four hours Facebook has been flooded with ambiguous status updates such as "I like it on the table," "I like it on the couch," or "I like it on the bar stool." Millions of confused and intrigued men sent record-breaking numbers of Friend Requests to complete strangers, assuring them that they, too, were down with it on  coat racks, in hall closets, or even tucked inside the bottom dresser drawer.

Adding to the confusion was a large population of women who brought fanny packs with them from the '80's and wrote misleading updates such as "I like it on my ass," or "I like it strapped on tight." In addition, there were several women with purse fetishes who wrote quite simply, "I like it in my vagina."

Turns out, in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness month, female Facebook users are disguising with sexual innuendo the places they like to set their handbags or purses down. This is not the first time a Facebook status has gone viral. In fact, less than a year ago, also to raise awareness of breast cancer, the bra color Facebook status updates had men equally confused and also went viral.

In response to what many consider a "deliberately hurtful sexist conspiracy," male Facebook users around the world have secretly collaborated to create their own ambiguous "I Like One" status update trend. Comments such as "I like one after stressful days," "I like one during sporting events," "I like one right before bed," have taken Facebook by storm. "I like one when I can just sit there and not do anything," "I like one when I need to relax," "I like one as foreplay to sex," and the list goes on and on. The new trend had men giggling and women rolling their eyes at the clearly inferior sex's obvious sexual reference until the stupidest man of all blew their cover when he wrote, "I like one with candles, bubbles, epsom salts and jacuzzi jets."

Oh men - is no secret safe?


Read the latest on Tiger Woods and Brett Favre. He may be responsible for a lot of "picks," but not the ones on Jenn Sterger's phone.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Phaedra Parks of "Real Housewives of Atlanta" Receives Nobel Prize

In the latest reality television buzz, Phaedra Parks, the newest member of "Real Housewives of Atlanta," has earned the spotlight by arriving on the set with some serious, prepackaged, made for TV "baggage" in the form of an ex-convict husband and a bun in the oven.
Bravo TV's synopsis of episode 1 calls Phaedra "the pregnant, classy, but sassy attorney-to-the stars."  Amongst her client list are names like "Tiny and Toya" from the BET reality series, and Bobby Brown from the music and spousal abuse industries.  In her personal life, Phaedra is married to a man named Appolo who was arrested for a white collar crime back in 2004.  Many reality TV viewers and gossipers believe that Phaedra's situation will create plenty of drama for Bravo's Atlanta Housewives, while critics believe she was recruited for no reason other than these extraneous details of her life. 

The self proclaimed southern belle's personal business has already been dragged through the press.  She fell in love with an ex-con and everybody seems to have an opinion about it. “People always talk," said Phaedra, "but I know who he is and I know who I am. I have a wonderful marriage with him and we have a wonderful family.” 

In addition to being a high-powered, pregnant attorney married to an ex-convict, Phaedra is also a huge humanitarian, creating the Cookies for Convicts Foundation that brings computers to death row inmates, and pioneering the reality television show industry's movement into impoverished, war-torn, third-world countries. Thanks to Phaedra, convicts can now e-mail their pardon requests to governors directly, and next season Bravo will be broadcasting exciting, new shows such as "So You Think You Can Dance on Land Mines," "Meal or No Meal," and "Are You Smarter Than a Heat Seeking Missile?" 
Locally, Phaedra volunteers her time at elementary schools and orphanages teaching children about the value of education, the lucrativeness of the television industry, and that white collar crime should be regarded differently than crime that's actually motivated by genuine, human need. But that's not all. Phaedra also dabbles in biochemistry and recently stumbled upon a cure for cancer that doubles as a contraceptive device. A week later, she received news that she was being awarded the Nobel Prize for Unlikely Discoveries. "It's just a weekend hobby," said the reality show starlet, "I wasn't looking for a cure for cancer as much as I was just trying to tone down the hops in my latest home brew." 
Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good, and when it comes to Phaedra Parks that's exactly what Bravo's "Real Housewives of Atlanta" is banking on. 

Friday, October 1, 2010

CNN's Rick Sanchez Fired After Calling Jon Stewart a Spigot

Rick Sanchez, a daytime anchor at CNN, was fired on Friday, after a radio interviewer claimed that he'd called 
The Daily Show host, Jon Stewart, a bigot. When Rick Sanchez went on to say that “everybody that runs CNN is a lot like Stewart,” the popular cable news network fired promptly "fired his ass."
CNN said in a statement Friday evening, “Rick Sanchez is no longer with the company. We thank Rick for his years of service and we wish him well.” 
Mr. Sanchez’s comments came Thursday during a contentious conversation with the comedian Pete Dominick on satellite radio. By Friday afternoon, a recording of the conversation had circulated widely on the Internet. Although Mr. Sanchez repeatedly suggested that he had experienced subtle forms of discrimination in his television career, he wholeheartedly refutes the claim that he ever called anyone a bigot. 
In a statement issued to Hollywood Underground shortly after his firing, Sanchez said, "It's all a misunderstanding, really. I'm a huge Jon Stewart fan and I love my coworkers at CNN, which is why I called them all spigots not bigots. It's a common journalistic colloquialism, and it's a big-time compliment." 
Sanchez elaborated saying, "Literally, a spigot is a tap or a faucet that controls the release of liquids, but in world of media, a spigot is an anchor or a correspondent who knows how to control the release of news to his or her viewers - when to release hot news, when to bring back cold news, and when to just let the warm news flow. Jon's the best in the world at that. He's a Class A spigot. A lot of people at CNN aspire to be the spigot Jon is." 
"Listen," Sanchez added, "Spigot is the highest praise you can give someone in my field. If I didn't like Stewart, I would have called him a Stem Faucet or a Butterfly Valve. That would definitely have gotten me fired." 
With regards to his comments that “a lot of elite Northeast establishment liberals” viewed him as someone “who belongs in the second tier and not the top tier,” Sanchez said, "Without a second tier, there is no top tier. It's just a tier. You might even call it a bottom tier. What I was trying to convey was my appreciation that liberals consider me an invaluable part of the tier system." 
One of the co-hosts of the radio show, still under the impression Sanchez had used the world bigot, brought up the fact that Mr. Stewart was a Jew, saying to Mr. Sanchez that he was a minority “as much as you are.”
Mr. Sanchez answered sarcastically, “Yeah. Yeah. Very powerless people.” He let out a high-pitched laugh. When asked about this comment Sanchez said, "The radio hides a great deal from its viewers. With a very serious look on my face I said, "Yeah, yeah. Very powerless," and then I laughed uncomfortably, which I often do when I'm talking about sad global truths on the radio. It's a nervous habit, really." 
In conclusion Sanchez stated, "I just hope that someday Jon Stewart and everyone at CNN can find it in their hearts to forgive me. Although my immediate future looks bleak, I hope that one day they will all be able to look at me and return the compliment by saying, 'Man, that Sanchez is one hell of a second tier spigot.'" 

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Lindsay Lohan to Open Her Own Rehab Center

In a move that surprised everyone including her own PR team, Lindsay Lohan announced Wednesday that she will be leaving the residential treatment facility where she has been seriously addressing her addiction to drugs and alcohol for nearly two days, to open her own rehabilitation center in the Malibu County.

On September 19th, Lindsay Lohan was sentenced to thirty days in jail for failing a second probation-mandated drug test, a consequence of the multiple DUIs she was convicted of during the summer of 2007. In what turned out to be the shortest month in history, Lohan was released just 14 hours later when she posted the necessary $300,000 bail. Just a few short days later, she checked herself into rehab once again with the hopes it will preempt any jail time that might be coming her way when she returns to court on October 22nd. 

While many have questioned both Lohan's motives and her sincere willingness to work on her addiction issues, no one has ever questioned her being kind of a nut job. This recent move, whether it be a PR ploy or a genuine step towards recovery, will do nothing to hinder that reputation. In an exclusive Hollywood Underground interview, Lohan revealed the origins and the details of this profound, new direction in her life.

"I've been to rehab like five times now," the 24 year-old former child fashion model began, "and one thing I know for sure is that it's totally boring. Can I have side of snooze with my twelve steps? It's the same thing every day - groups, meetings, therapy, groups, meetings, therapy. Drugs are a symptom. Why are you hurting? Blah, blah, blah. I mean, hello - why do you think we get high in the first place? Is talking about all that crap really going to help us stay sober? I don't think so."

Asked how her rehabilitation center will be different than the ones she has been to, Lohan replied, "Well, I want it to be fun. I want people to look forward to rehab, even if they've been there before. So I've been thinking about the most funnest places I've ever been to and I've decided to call my treatment facility Rehabland. But I'm thinking Goofy might be a better front man. Ha, ha. Just kidding," Lohan concluded with a confusing wink. 

Asked what her treatment philosophy on addiction will be, a contemplative Lohan paused, "I've put a lot of thought into that, and I also did quite a bit of reading during my 85 minute stint in jail back in '07. What I've decided is to employ the very contemporary No Harm Reduction method. It's the latest in treatment, even though a Greek philosopher named Hippocrates came up with it centuries ago. Doctors swear by it,  so I figure it must be pretty good." 

"Basically," Lohan continued when asked for details, "In my version of No Harm Reduction, people get to choose the drug or type of alcohol that causes them the least amount of problems and continue using it. Like if you've been arrested for heroin but not crack, then you can still use crack while you're in Rehabland. If beer doesn't cause you as much grief as wine, then quit wining. And quit whining, if you know what I mean. Ha, ha. Just kidding. Doesn't that already sound better than regular rehab?"

When asked what else Rehabland will offer its clients that they might not receive in more traditional in-patient facilities, Lohan became bubbly, even a little manic. "Tons of stuff," she blurted, "You're not going to believe it. We'll still have group counseling, but it will be more like small parties designed to get people out of the narrow, self-imposed prison of their personal drug addiction by encouraging them to branch out and try other drugs. My philosophy is if you spread out your affinity for drugs and you don't do anything more than three days in a row, then it's not addiction. Oh, and I'm also going to have amusement park rides that mimic people's drugs of choice - that way they can still enjoy the feeling of their addiction while complying with the strict No Harm Reduction philosophy."

When pressed for examples, a briefly serious Lohan said, "The rides will replicate exactly the release of neurotransmitters that occur in our brains during our addictive drug use. If you're into weed, then you get to ride on Spaced Mountain, which is a really slow moving roller coaster that stops every few seconds for snacks or pseudo-epiphanies. Or, if you're into heroin, then you can ride The Doesn't Matter Horn, which uses oxygen deprivation to give you that sense of near death and not caring about anything. Meth Heads get to bungee jump into messy living rooms, while Cocaine lovers get to watch soccer highlights on an HD Jumbotron, but only the ones where they almost score."

"I don't get it," interrupted HU's reporter.

"If you were into cocaine and soccer, you totally would. Trust me. Anyway, I could go on and on, but I want to leave some surprises for our clients. We have something for everyone." 

Lohan, due to appear back in court for sentencing on October 22nd, plans to have RehabLand up and running in less than two weeks. "I just know the judge will love what I've put together. How could she not? I'm proof that this stuff works," Lohan said proudly, polishing off her sixth shot (instead of beer) and returning to her DVR-ed 2006 World Cup Final.

Lindsay says, "Get in on the ground floor and become a follower of the hottest new entertainment blog on the Net." Leave comments, feedback, and suggestions about Rehabland here...

How It All Began...

My fellow Americans,

I am writing to you today from a secret location in my mother-in-law's barn. That's right, somebody actually married me. It is with a heavy heart that I share the horrific events that have transpired since last I blogged nearly ten days ago. In the interest of maintaining interest, I will try to be brief, sparing you of the traumatic details that will forever be etched upon the fabric of my being. Suffice it to say that I am now a fugitive of the American government and its people. If they find me, they will surely take me back to that place - that horrible, horrible place...

On September 16th of this year, as I lazily nibbled on an extra-thick shelled Klondike bar and checked the scores of my fantasy baseball playoff match-ups, I happened to notice that Google's top-searched story of the evening was America's Got Talent crowning their fifth season's winner - a dashing, young singer from Mississippi named Michael Grimm. I surfed around, did some reading about the finalists, finished my ice cream, drafted a shortstop to replace the injured Hanley Ramirez, and decided on a whim to write a comical piece claiming that Michael Grimm had made up his entire back story to pull at the heartstrings of American voters. 

Those were the last normal moments I remember. 

On the morning of September 17th, I logged onto my wife's laptop to check the stats of my blog and my replacement shortstop. Alex Gonzalez had gone three for four with a double and two RBIs, and my blog had gone for...Holy Shit! 2,200 hits? This must be mistake, I thought. Seven comments? No one comments on my blog. I've been writing about his granddaughter for over ten months and I don't think my dad even reads it. I hit refresh - 2,208. What the f--- is going on? 

I spent the rest of the day watching - no, marveling - at the number of page views and editorials my fabricated story receiving. While a very small percentage of readers found the humor in my writing, the cynicism with which it was intended, their comments were far outnumbered by the onslaught of cyber-hate-mail that ensued. People were angry, indignant, threatening both litigation and karmic retribution. For a fleeting moment I felt worried and guilty, but then I decided that anyone who believed that Grimm really sang "When a Man Loves a Woman Who's House Got Flooded By a Natural Disaster and Who Doesn't Have Any Insurance at All," is too stupid to know anything about defamation lawsuits. 

How wrong I turned out to be...

That evening, about 4,500 page views and 23 angry comments later, I felt compelled to write a follow-up story. I needed to clear the air and give Michael Grimm his good name back, but more importantly I needed a fall guy. Very little research later, I stumbled upon Michael Evancho, the talented opera-singing runner-up's father. Turns out, according to my complete lack of sources, Mr. Evancho was the one who had originally leaked the fake story about Michael Grimm to the press. And by press, I mean a stay-at-home daddy blogger from the boonies of northern California. And by story I mean one hundred percent fiction. 

Needless to say, more page views, more hate mail, and more litigious threats ensued. I couldn't believe what I was reading. Is there no room left for comedy in this world? And what exactly did these people think I was going to get sued for? Violating our protected freedom of SPEACH claimed one reader, and if she weren't equally protected by the freedom to misspell I could totally counter-sue. By sundown that day, I was comfortably convinced that these people, with names like daradoodle, feldwoja, and raaketa, didn't have a clue what they were talking about. 

That, dear readers, was the last thought that crossed my mind before my front door was kicked in. I barely had time to put my wife's laptop on stand by, turn off Sports Center, and fold up the blanket I like to use on cold, autumn nights, before I was drugged, handcuffed, and escorted to an unmarked car idling in my driveway. The last thing I saw as I drifted from consciousness were the letters R.O.N.S., but that's all I could make out.

The next few days were a blur. My first memory is being interrogated by two women named Pat and Lisa who wanted to know where the hell I got my information about Michael Grimm and why on earth I thought it was funny to satirize reality television and American culture. When I couldn't give them a satisfactory explanation, they sent me to an internment camp where they house people who dare insult the intelligence of the average American television viewers and Internet users.

The frightening reality is that these camps exist all over the country, with new ones being built all the time. It was there that I met others like myself - countless "retired" writers from The Onion, Vance Degeneres and Lewis Black from "The Daily Show," and Billy Mays who isn't dead at all, and who still clings to the hope that he will one day be pardoned when the camp's warden realizes he actually believes in Mighty Putty.

Days inside the camp were spent being reprogrammed with shock treatments, group therapy and repetitive workshops on things like literal humor. "What are you up to?" the counselors would ask us, and if we didn't say something like, "About two hundred pounds," or "Five foot seven," we were forced to watch episodes of "Mama's Family" and "My Two Dads" until we obliged. Sarcasm was greeted with caning while anything less than a truthful joke was punishable by up to a week in a padded cell wall-papered with Family Circus sketches. By week's end, I looked as defeated as the rest of them.

With every ounce of determination we could muster, we managed to craft a Billy Mays inspired escape plan. First we used the infamous Dual Saw to cut through the metal bars to our cells. Once we were in the common area we converted an AM radio into a cell phone with the Jupiter Jack and called for a taxi. Rather than navigate the labyrinth and swim across the moat to freedom, we used the Awesome Auger to chop right through the hedges before soaking up the entire moat with a dozen or so Zorbeez. Finally, once were were safely on the other side, we whipped out the Grater Plater to make some awesome quesadillas before bidding farewell and going our separate ways.

Two days later I managed to secure this secret location where I am writing to you from now. This will be the second to last time I write to you from this URL. I now know what those letters on the unmarked car stood for and I vow never to be captured again by the Middle-American Organization of Radicals Opposed to Naughty Sarcasm (M.O.R.O.N.S).

As a result I have created this new, safer blog location from which to communicate. I vow to forever continue the good fight of comedy in all forms and the American way. I vow, dear readers, to create without fear of retribution, to lie without concern for litigation, and to point fingers without giving a shit about the three pointing back at me. My motto is, "If it ain't made up, it ain't worth writing."

God bless America and god bless you all.