Tragedy Denial

As a historian, one of my most important duties is to determine which human tragedies actually happened and which never occurred because an 87 year old man forgot a detail or two. The following are events that I deny ever happened:

Here's an easy one- the Holocaust
Apparently my grandparents are survivors, but you know what? I wasn't there to see it. Doesn't count.

Slavery in America
Except for the extensive documentation, there's no evidence to prove that black people were enslaved. Source: a white guy covered in leather at a Hoot 'n nanny in Arkansas.

Genocide of Amerindians
So we're supposed to believe that Europeans came to the new world and eradicated a vibrant group of people to near extinction? Then how come I see 53 Chiefs from Kansas City every Sunday? That means there are at least 53 different tribes in the Kansas City area alone. Not to mention the Redskins from DC, the Braves from Atlanta, and the Indians from Cleveland, (although I heard they're actually all from Bangalore). Sounds like there are too many of them for a genocide to have occurred.

Iraq War
A few car bombs every once in a while (say 1,100 attacks a day) doesn't constitute a war. And besides, if you fly over Iraq you'll notice that the entire country isn't on fire. Source: Donald Rumsfeld.

Franco-Prussian War
Prussian Chancellor Otto von Bismarck didn't alter any memos creating a common purpose for the Germanic territories to fight against France leading to Germany's unification. Despite what the Franco-Prussian war conspiratists would have you believe, there was no World Cup in Germany over the summer. Germany doesn't exist. No country in the world loves David Hasselhoff.

Shabaam Sahdeeq's song "You Need 2 Give It Up"
Over a sped up sample of the Fiddler on the Roof song "Tradition," Double S raps about a night on the town (in Anatevka?) with his "two way's bubblin bubblin [and] hoes gigglin." The chorus of course consists of "Y'all need to give it up, y'all crew can't fuck with us, y'all know we gets it crunk, we headed for number one." Maybe, I'm just hoping this one never happened.

The tragedy is that he has a couple of really beautiful songs on the album Never Say Never, like "I Still Love Her" a take off of Common Sense's "I Used to Love H.E.R." But on another song, he disses Mos Def and Talib Kweli for no reason and it ruined his career. (Why am I reviewing an album by Shabaam Sahdeeq? And one that was released in 2001? Doesn't make any fucking sense.)

A Late Night in Tehran
After getting high on the wacky tobacky, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and David Duke theorized about whether two people can make up a circle jerk. Or really, if you can ever have a circle jerk, considering circles don't have sides. (Did I just blow your mind?)

Ted Haggard vs Mark Foley

"Dude, let's just get high and go nuts."

"I dunno, ur not really my type. Too old."

The Competitors
Ted Haggard is the former anti-gay Pastor and leader of an Evangelical organization of 30 million people. He snorted some meth (evidently one can snort meth, I checked) and had some of that gay sex with a male prostitute. Oops.

Mark Foley is a former Congressperson from Florida, who co-wrote legislation implementing harsh punishment for child molesters. He resigned from Congress for writing sexually charged emails to boys, who were young enough to be 'Nsync fans and not automatically deemed effete. Plus, he probably had sex with a couple of them. Then he entered a rehab program for a fictitious case of alcoholism. Yikes.

The Competition
So, which is worse?

Let me first say that both make me ejaculate a little. Not because elicit explicit detailed stories of drug-induced manlove and cyberpedophilia turn me on, but tales of hypocritical horrible men make me quite stiff and misty. Hey, everyone has fetishes.

Think about this: if Ted Haggard was anything but an anti-gay activist, then there wouldn't be any problems with him having the gay butt sex. He could have all of the gay butt sex he wanted and I'd be cool with it. Jesus would be too (I asked him, he's part of the Secret Jewish Conspiracy email club). In which case, the only things he would've done wrong is snorting meth, paying for sex, and committing adultery. But he was an anti-gay activist, so the hypocrisy part of the gay sex is wrong.

Mark Foley was also a hypocrite. If he had just said that child molestation was ok, he wouldn't be a child predator AND a hypocrite, just one of those. Also, The HarazQuack Times is ready to officially call Mark Foley a child-fucker, due to intensive research of the instant message conversations between Mr. Foley and congressional pages that clearly indicate there was some touchy-feely involved.

The Break-down
Ted Haggard was anti-gay, which is bad. Turns out he's gay, which is good. He committed adultery, which is bad. He said doing meth was bad, which is good. He did meth, which is bad. Mark Foley said fucking children was bad, which is good. He fucked children; that's bad. He said he was alcoholic, which is bad. He's probably not alcoholic, which is good.

The Conclusion
Ted Haggard and Mark Foley had the exact opposite scandal and none of it was good. And the winner is... Everyone except Ted Haggard and Mark Foley.

For The Love Of Hate: The Riccio-Hale Story

A group of charismatic opinionated leaders gathered for the National Konvention for Koncerned Kaucasians (N-KKK) . Unbeknownst to the rest of the members, emotions were brewing between two participants.

The eyes of Bill Riccio, a member of Birmingham's KKK among other groups, kept wandering the room hoping to catch the eyes of another. Bill wished that Matthew Hale, the leader of the Creativity Movement, would speak. It would be an excuse to stare at those luscious lips and gaze into those heavenly eyes.

What Bill didn't know was that the same emotions were welling up in Matt's body. Their eyes searched the room, always with the intent of eventually reaching each other. Then Matt spoke, giving a particularly heinous anti-gay speech as Bill's heart fluttered, his male anatomy extending with anticipation. Matt was done; Bill forced himself to look away.

Then the moment happened. Their eyes met. Their probably blue eyes locked and their lives would never be the same.


After the conference ended, Bill timed it so that he would accidentally bump into Matt. His nerves made his bosom jiggle. Bill's shoulder scraped Matt's back. Matt turned and was shocked; there before his eyes was the epitome of beauty, Bill Riccio.

Bill tried to say something, anything, but his throat had gone dry, "Um.. I loved your speech about [anti-black slur]."
"Oh, thanks. You really stuck it to those [several anti-Jew slurs in a row]. I loved the way you showed how they [anti-Jew rhetoric] and use that money to help those [anti-black slurs] and promote a [anti-gay slur] lifestyle," Matt complimented.
Bill was overcome with glee. He attempted to compose himself. "Coming from you, that means a lot."
"Well it's the truth," Matt replied, "Do you... I don't know... want to get together sometime? You know, to talk about the movement, I mean."
Bill could hardly contain himself. "Of course. I want to! Uh, to talk about the movement."


Life is hard and lonely for today's vicious racist. It seems that no one understands their struggle. This was a feeling that Matt and Bill knew all too well. They could sense the empathy of each other's eyes. They scheduled to meet three weeks after the N-KKK. Bill thought about the forthcoming meeting everyday. Matt was confused at first. He knew homosexuality was wrong. But this truth seemed less certain now. He couldn't fight this urge. He had to let his inhibitions go. Waking up to thoughts of Bill, Matt slowly moved his hand southward and began imagining that it was Bill's hand instead. If only.


The day of the meeting arrived. Matt washed his body vigorously in his hotel room, hoping with good reason. Bill couldn't wait to meet his mentor. He noticed that his penis had seemed to wake up from a deep slumber over the previous three weeks. Bill wasn't sure what the sudden awakening was about. But he knew he wanted to see the man who had sparked his love of hating different groups of people, Matthew Hale.

"Hey Bill. Great place you got here. Really conducive for cultivating a pure white culture."
"Thanks Matt. New haircut? Very Hitler-like." Both men's hearts raced. Blood ran to places that they wouldn't have expected one short month before. Bill was looking forward to discussing white power, but pleasant, yet unwelcome images of Matt in all his naked glory kept creeping into his head. Matt wasn't sure how to profess his attraction for Bill. He understood the consequences of his feelings for Bill, but he was a slave to his heart.

They sat across from each other at a table and attempted to get down to business. "So the [anti-Muslim slur] is attempting to infiltrate this white country," Matt remarked, praying that his ankle would touch Bill's under the table. Bill tried to concentrate, but Matt's pure vanilla face looked so delicious. "Yeah, the [anti-gay slur, even though he was referring to Muslims] are the new [anti-black slur]. Now they own stores like the [anti-Chinese slur, but I think he meant an anti-Korean slur. I'm just saying, you don't know the context, I do]." Their legs accidentally touched and both were in ecstasy. Bill still fought his urges.

Before they knew what happened, they were holding hands, conversing about having sex with pure white women. Matt scooted his chair next to Bill on his left. Bill was conflicted. His heart jumped out of his chest and into Matt's body, but his head knew this was wrong. He felt awkward. Vulnerable to Matt's advances. Matt reached over with his left and placed his hand on Bill's thigh. Matt stroked it with his index finger while whispering that the Holocaust never happened [yet they worship Hitler for killing so many Jews, I don't get that], periodically blowing into Bill's ear. Bill began playing with the back of Matt's left hand. Matt's right hand began rubbing Bill's back, occasionally slipping below. Bill felt the battle between his throbbing stick of white pride and his anti-gay heritage. He wished he didn't want it. Or he wished he could simply let go and allow Matt to lick his body like a horse with a sugar cube.

Matt moved his hand up Bill's thigh, and slowly reached glory. After a few seconds of delight, Bill stood up, his erection clearly apparent. "I can't do this Matt. I'm sorry. I'm not a [anti-gay slur] like those [anti-Jew slur]. It's not right."

Matt stood up slowly, compassionately. He placed his hands on Bill's shoulders and hugged him. They then stared into each other's eyes. "Bill, you know we can't fight it. You have to do what's in your white heart. Listen to your Aryan heart my brother." Then Matt moved closer to Bill. Their lips touched ever so slightly. And Matt moved away. Before he could get far, Bill grabbed him and their tongues swirled around each other. They exchanged white saliva for over a minute, moving their hands up and down each other’s bodies, exploring like a puppy in a new surrounding.

First Matt took off his shirt and then he freed Bill of his. And well, you get the picture. They had sex.

Clinton Bones Bush

I still can't believe that Bill Clinton has received no flack for his infidelity and his lies about something so dangerous. Bill Clinton got his knob cleaned by a woman who was not his wife and that is clearly a threat to national security.

Meanwhile, George Bush has been on the wrong side of a ton of criticism for no reason. We don't even know if Bush lied about the reasons to go to war. All we know is that the reasons he gave turned out to be wrong and that it is documented that his administration wanted to go to war against Iraq regardless of facts. We know that Bill Clinton did lie. Listen, I've lied about both and lying about the blowjob got me in way more trouble with my lady friend than did lying about justifications for war. But maybe that's just me.

The Bush-led government records our communications with one another. So did the fat woman that Monica Lewinsky told about licking Clinton's banana. And it's illegal to record a phone conversation in Maryland without telling the other person. The fat woman lived in Maryland. I live in Maryland. Bill Clinton was fat when he first came into office. That's strike two Clinton.

Bush was the leader of the government when it failed on September 11, 2001 and during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. But Clinton was involved in an "explosion" on a dress and Ms. Lewinsky, a Jew, was drowned in Clinton's ....................... (gross). So Clinton is at least as equally responsible for this nation's tragedies.

Bush may have cut taxes only for the wealthiest Americans, but Clinton got rid of welfare, equally as damaging to poor people trying to turn their lives around. Wait a minute, scratch that last part. I meant to say, Clinton got his wood peckered and lied about it: disgusting, disrespectful, and distasteful.

Sure Bill Clinton was impeached, but so was Andrew Johnson; there’s precedent so it's not a big deal. George Bush has had his face caricatured on protestors' posters with words "No blood for oil," underneath. I know, I couldn't believe it either when I saw it. George Bush has feelings too you know.

Plus, Clinton and Bush both bombed Iraq and Afghanistan. And I think we can all agree that killing people is wrong, thus the Republicans were right: Clinton was a horrible person.

Sentence Comes Up Short

Richard Thompson of Lincoln, Nebraska was convicted of fucking a child and will serve no jail time. At 5'1", he was deemed too short for jail.

Now, I know this will upset a lot of people. The "anti-child fucking gestapo" will be up in arms over this sentence. But clearly you only have empathy for the so-called victim. What about the short child fucker? Suddenly, your compassion has dried up faster than the beer tap at the White House.

You have no idea what this means for short men. We can run amuck with no concern for consequence. That's pretty fucking awesome. I'm not really into the whole child fucking scene, but I can think of illegal things to do. In fact, I'm gonna go illegally download some music. Oh your honor, I'm too short to pay the fine. Score the basket!

Now, I'm not nearly as short as Mr. Thompson.

All of the sudden some big fancy ACLU lawyer says that she's never heard of this before and it's ridiculous. But the ACLU should be stopped. Conservatives, you can't back down now, otherwise, aren't you flip-flopping on the whole hating the ACLU issue? Yes, you are.

Finally there is justice for the short man. We've earned the freedom that we so desperately sought. The freedom to fuck little children. I mean, it's not really a freedom that I really want, but, still, I understand freedom to be pretty great.

Speak English

President George Bush has finally brought the all important issue of translation into the nation's political discouse. He believes that our national anthem should only be sung in English, not spanish.

Personally I'm against translation of any kind. If you write something in a language, it should stay in that language. If we didnt translate the rest of the world's opinions of America into English, then we wouldn't know that they hate us. Then we could act in any way we wanted. I'm for another unjustified war. Let's take out Madagascar. Fuck Madagascar! I mean, look at it, just loitering off the coast of Africa like some kind of punk kid (buy something already or leave!), with its many species of animals, and unpronouncable capital.

I speak one language; English. It's not because I'm an idiot, but because it should be the only world language. My grandma spoke 4 or 5 languages, but you know what? She didn't speak English too good. She had a weird fuckin accent and I couldn't understand her half the time. She didn't write English good either. Because she was stupid.

Back to the issue of the national anthem. It must be sung in English. English is a sacred language. Which language is every bible in each of America's Hilton Hotels written in? It's English of course, which proves that English is a holy language. Francis Scott Key's poem is also sacred (at least the part that is now the national anthem). If you sing it in spanish, you lose the meaning of the song. Especially since the only Spanish I speak is "Yo quero el the Taco Bell." If the song has no meaning, it can't be holy anymore.

If we don't speak English, we won't be a unified nation. And than we won't be able to stand. And it all begins with the national anthem.




By the way, check this out: http://jdmac020.blogspot.com/

Save Darfur Rally

It's official, the Washington DC metro rail and Sudanese dictator Omar al-Bashir are in cahoots, as it took us five more minutes than it usually would to get to the rally on the National Mall. Of course, I was only there to "pick up chicks" as the kids say. And I was quite successful. One young woman looked at my shirt, and asked "Do you go to George Mason?" I replied, "Yes." She then asked, "What year are you?" I answered, "I'm a grad student." Then she continued her flirt parade by saying, "Oh, never mind," and walked away.

Once I got there, there were so many Jews, it felt like we were at temple. I ran into a friend of mine from college, who is Jewish. He mentioned that despite the enormous differences within the Jewish community this is the one cause that all of us can get behind. I'm sure there's one Jew that supports the genocide (there's always one) but otherwise I agree. Being there made me proud to be Jewish.

When Al Sharpton was introduced, a great moan of anticipation rolled through the crowd. Then Shapton gave a moving oration as expected.

James Zogby, the head of the Arab American Institute, spoke as well. A couple of teenage Jewish guys began heckling him in the only way Jews know how, making sarcastic comments. Unfortunately, they didn't appear to know what the hell they were talking about.

I emailed Mr. Zogby three years ago and his response was (if he doesn't mind):

"Thank you for your very kind note. I appreciate your concern and empathy. I too look forward to the day when we can all live together peacefully. I continue to hope."

Obviously, he's a terrorist.

The YMCA Theory

My friend Mike and I have attended a number of sporting events together. When the Village People's song YMCA comes over the PA system, we invariably get into a heated argument. We argue over which way the "C" is supposed to go (I don't participate in formulating the letters with my arms for that reason alone), but that's not the argument that formed the basis of the YMCA Theory.

Somewhere in the song is the lyric "Do what the fuck you feel." Mike claims that the lyric is actually "Do what-ev-er you feel." The argument basically consists of us recounting our version of the lyric and then just screaming it repeatedly at each other for about 5-10 minutes.

At the Nats game last Friday, a theory developed from my thesis. By the way, the Nats beat the Braves 7-3. Mike mentioned, "So you want me to believe that he wrote the words 'Do what the fuck you feel' into the song attempting to dupe millions of Americans who sing along at sporting events all over the country? I don't believe it."

I explained to Mike, that he (for some reason, I always imagine the police man writing the song)had already done this. A nation of homophobes and their heterosexist children sing a song about a place where gay men would hook up in the 1970s. That's what the song, YMCA, is about. So, the police man has already duped everyone. Since the whole song has a hidden meaning, it is not hard to picture him sneaking in that line as well. I don't argue that the line "Do what the fuck you feel" has a hidden meaning itself, just that it is blasted at sporting events nationwide.



Mike has thought it over and now agrees with me.

Clash of Civilizations

In the early 1500s, Domingo Paes, from Portugal, visited the great capital of Vijayanagara, the center of the most powerful South Indian empire by the same name. He met with the ruler Krishnadevaraya. We join their meeting after they have exchanged formal pleasantries.

Paes: We have defeated the vicious Muslim and his cheap whiny brethren, the Jew, and exiled them from our lands. I trust you appreciate this glorious gesture as you face the same Saracen enemy.

Krishnadevaraya: Yes, we have battled the Bahamani Sultanate, which consists of Muslim rulership, for over a century, and we disagree with their beliefs, but our beef is with the Bahamanis, not all Muslims. Plus, we also are home to Jains, Christians, and Jews. We don't see a problem with this. Each group enriches our community in a different way.

Paes: That's gay.

Krishnadevaraya: I'm not exactly sure what my sexual orientation has to do with our attitude towards people of different religions?

Paes: No, I didn't mean gay like that. I meant it like, that's stupid.

Krishnadevaraya: I'm sorry, I'm not following. I'm not familiar with that interpretation. You seem to be generalizing. I've met smart gay people. In fact, my half-brother, the man I succeeded, Vira Narasimha, is gay and contains an above average intelligence.

Paes: What? No, never mind. You don't get it. [Paes becomes startled] What the.. you have shit on your face.

Krishnadevaraya: Are you referring to my skin color? That is really an ignorant comment. You don't see me asking if you covered your skin in semen, but I've been wondering about it.

Paes: Oh, so now I'm a racist, aren't I? I'm coming from Portugal, we don't have you people where I'm from.

Krishnadevaraya: You people? And maybe that's because you "expelled" them from your country [Krishnadevaraya does the quotes-thingy with his fingers].

Paes: It was necessary. They were taking our jobs and gaining control of our country.

Krishnadevaraya: I don't understand this notion of one race owning employment. It doesn't make sense to me. And isn't everyone entitled to representation?

Paes: Dude, it's the 1500s, hardly anyone is entitled to representation. Even you have a monarchy.

Krishnadevaraya: Ok, ok, you got me there.

Paes [head turns]: Yowsers! Did you see the knockers on that one?

Krishnadevaraya: Considering my many concubines, this may seem a tad hypocritical, but I don't believe you should be referring to women in that manner.

Paes: So if I don't like your women, I'm racist. If I do, I'm racist and sexist. I can't win.

Krishnadevaraya: Besides the scores of women in my quarter, I don't own any women. This woman only appeals to you as a sexual conquest. You clearly see her as subordinate.

Paes: Dude, you're out to get me. I can't win. I didn’t do anything to you.

Krishnadevaraya: We live in a society where you have power that you don't recognize. Power that I can never possess. You have privileges that you may not even know you contain. You probably don't even realize half of what you have. Wait a sec... I'm a king! Never mind.

Paes: Fuck you!

A Bad Day

Juvenal woke up in his hotel, in Arusha, Tanzania, one morning and went straight to the shower. Running late, Juvenal tried to wash his body as fast as possible. He grabbed the shampoo and popped the bottle open. The shampoo shot out into his eye. He screamed in pain, "Fuck, my eye!"

Still in a hurry, and now with one eye burning with the sting of shampoo shooting into it, Juvenal rushed to get dressed. Searching for his pants, he stubbed his toe against the hotel bed. "Aw shit, my toe!" Juvenal bellowed.

He raced to catch his helicopter. He sat next to the man he had been working with for the past week, Cyprien. With his eye still burning and distracted by the pain in his toe, Juvenal looked down and realized that his fly was wide open. As discretely as possible, Juvenal zipped up his fly, hoping Cyprien hadn't seen his mistake. Their helicopter soon took off for Kigali. Then, it was shot down and everyone aboard died. This ignited the Rwandan genocide.



Now, that's a bad day!

I Hate Immigrants

That hatred started with my Grandma and Grandpa. Yes, they were dirty, filthy, foreign, immigrants.

Oh sure, it's easy to laud them for escaping from the Nazis and surviving the Holocaust, but it takes real balls to expose them for what they truly were: thieves. They stole jobs from good hardworking Americans. If it were up to me, I'd send them back to Polandistan, or wherever the fuck they came from. I don't really know, I don't concern myself with things that are unAmerican (such as places that aren't America).

This same American spirit can now be directed at the Mexicans. They will never be real Americans, because they speak some crazy language, Mexicanese I think. Their ancestors will never be able to become citizens because their culture is different. There is no room for different languages or cultures in America. We speak one language and have one culture: American!

Liberals argue, "If we don't have immigrants who will do our shit jobs?" I'll tell you who won't, my grandparents- those greenhorns are dead. Hahahaha (they had an extra pair of horns being as they were Jewish). First of all, there should be a comma in between "immigrants" and "who" you grammatically inept bastards. Second off, it sounds an awful lot like liberals are nostalgic for slavery. Obviously that's ludicrous, immigrants don't deserve to be at the level of slaves, they're immigrants for Christ's sake (here I'm referring to Christ's gay-hating, the Jews-are-going-to-Hell, and whites are superior, side, and not that treating people equal, world peace, and love thy enemy, bullshit).

People claim that America has historically been a country of immigrants. I say that America has historically been a country of immigrant-haters. You may ask, "What if there are no immigrants? Then we won't have anyone to hate and America will stray from its past." Never fear, there are still gays, Jews, and blacks to hate. Believe me, they are real problems. They are creeping up and taking over our lives and our families. It is so bad that my immediate family is now one hundred percent Jewish. We're losing the battle my fellow Americans. We must defeat the immigrants so that we can turn our attention to the real problems this nation is facing: Ellen DeGeneres, Jon Stewart, and Dave Chappelle.

What a Jew Hears At Christmas

Jingle Bells
You're a kike, you're a kike, kike all the way. Oh what fun it is to throw a kike in the oven today!

Silent Night
Si-lent kike. Ho-ly kike. All is well, when you kill a kike. Sleep for-ever you beast.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town
You better not cry, you better not pout, let's go kill the Jews.

That pa-rum-pum-pum-pum song
I hate Jewish people, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum.

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas
I'm dreaming of a... day when Jesus returns and all the Jews go to Hell, muhahahaha!

Merry CHRISTmas Bill O'Reilly

Message to My Fellow Protestors

After attending a few peace protests, I have seen a number of things that should be changed, eradicated, or added to improve the effectiveness of the protest and in expressing the cause. Here is the list:

• Let's stick to the issue. If the march is about protesting the Iraq war, let's leave freeing Palestine, however noble, out of it. Freeing Palestine and stopping the Iraq war have about as much in common as Saddam Hussein and the attacks on September 11. Sure there is a superficial link, but perhaps the oppression of Palestinians deserves its own protest. Listen, I'm all for gay Nevadans marrying, but unless the wedding is going to be in Tikrit, that's a separate issue.
• Correct spelling on your signs please.
• Let's try to formulate a complete sentence. "Bush Oppressor Iraq Bad" is not exactly the most articulate cry for peace that there has ever been. That's almost as bad as if the president were to say, "There's an old saying in Tennessee, I know it's in Texas, it's probably in Tennessee, that says, 'fool me once... shame on... shame on you... eh, fool me, can't get fooled again.'"
• Che Guevera? Is this an anti-imperialism protest or a peace protest? If it's a peace protest, Che's gonna have to sit this one out.
• Please comb down your spiked-up hair. I can't see the fucking stage!
• All protestors must shower.
• George Bush is not Hitler. Hitler had one ball and George Bush has none! Ha! Sorry, that made no sense. (Another criticism that I have). But can we get some historical perspective here?
• No freaks!
• Stop handing out crazy papers that claim that the Kennedy assassination had something to do with September 11.
• I know these organizations need donations, but it'd be cheaper to take a date to a fancy restaurant and then snort coke off of her belly in an expensive hotel room using $100 bills to wipe your ass. I've never done it.
• Just because you're exerting your natural right to protest for the sake of peace, you don't have to be gross about it. Use a tissue when you sneeze. If you feel guilty about it, plant a tree.
• Be informed about the issues facing the world today. Use that knowledge.

Last Night In Berlin

Berlin has been somewhat of a surprisingly safe atmosphere. It is a modern city. There are people from all over the world walking the sidewalks. Cars actually stop if you even think about crossing the street. They have Indian food. Good Indian food. Berlin's not bad.

Eric, a six foot American (need I say, not a Jew), and I were walking from the internet cafe to the bar to meet some people from the program. We walked up the street and saw a he, uh, she, uh, it, in the distance. He/she was about 6'8" tall. We scurried past, hoping she/he wouldn't see us. Unfortunately, this (wo)man did see us as we walked past he/she. He/she followed us, asking us if we desired a "good time". At least, that's what I'm guessing she/he said, as she/he was talking to us in German.

We thought we were in the clear once we passed gigantic, white-boot wearing, short-skirt displaying, person. Not to be.

Shortly thereafter, we heard a faint chanting in the background. We saw lights flashing. Hmm, what the hell is happening? Let's go in the other direction, we thought. A bad decision.

We were walking directly into the mob. They were all men, yelling fervently in German. A bad situation to be in for a Jew. Really for anyone, but especially a Jew. "Fuck!" I ran around in a circle wishing I could fly back home or somewhere safe. They were either neo-Nazis or ardant soccer fans, which could be one in the same I was later told. Eric told me to calm down. He advised that we should walk (I added the 'quickly' part) not run, away from the mob. We made it safely away into the bar. Oy!

H or D

In another country there are a few essential nuggets of information. As I've found out, sometimes the hard way, bathroom-related info is among the more important.

A group of us were in a 1950s style American diner. Sammy Davis Jr., Abbot and Costello, and Rocky all stared at me from the wall. Eric, a tall American gentile from Oregon sat to my right. He and I have cheered up the group with our playful banter. All tall male gentile friends of mine know what I'm talking about. Cara, who lives in New York, sat across from him. Across from me was an American-Austrian, Miffy, a tall skinny man with a slight Austrian accent with every word, expect for Long Island. His mother is from Long Island and she at least passed on her accent with 'Long Island'. Next to him was Patrick, a German who wants to convert to Judaism.

I really had to poop midway through our outing. I asked the two Europeans about the whereabouts of the bathroom, WC, toilet, I-have-to-shit. They told me it was down the stairs. When I got there, I was confronted with a dilemma. There were no pictures on the bathroom doors, only two letters "H" and "D".

I raced upstairs to ask Miffy and Patrick, "H or D?" They both answered emphatically, "H!"

I ran back downstairs and realized that both letters were part of my intials. 'Which one of my initials did they say again?' I thought. 'D, it must be D,' I decided.

So I opened the door to D and walked in to the empty bathroom. 'Hmm, there are no urinals. Guess they don't have urinals in Germany,' I reasoned.

I struggled to find the light for each stall, but finally gave up and plopped my ass on the toilet farthest from the door.

In the middle of my dump I screamed, "Shit!" It had occured to me that my two German-speaking comrades had told me 'H' and I was taking a shit in the lady's room. I finished as quickly as possible and scurried out the door of the lady's room.

'Whew, no one saw me,' just as a man walked by. 'Fuck, just be cool, act normal, you're just a hairy woman.'

I went back upstairs and told everyone that I just took a big shit in the lady's room.

Washington Redskins Move to Kansas City

The Washington Redskins will officially move to Kansas City and become the Kikes after the owners get together in West Palm Beach, Florida on Wednesday to ratify the deal. The move makes sense for the former Redskin franchise. They are leaving a Washington market that loves their NFL team to go to a city that already has one. Owner Daniel Snyder, a Jew, felt that the move was necessary for the sake of political correctness. In a press conference, Snyder acknowledged that the name 'Redskins' is offensive to those "En-gens" as he patted his O-shaped mouth with his right hand and garnished his head with his left in the guise of a feather headdress.

When asked about the new name's potential to be offensive, Snyder seemed bitter. Reporters told him that the word "kike" is a derogatory term for Jews, a group to which he belongs. This appeared to be new information for the billionaire, who responded, "Hopefully the Jews can take a joke better than those Chief Complain-a-lots." The group to which Snyder referred, the Chief Complain-a-lots, could not be found by researchers after they googled the name several times, and thus could not be reached for comment. The Jewish community is broygez. They feel betrayed and fairly farklempt.

The Kansas City Kikes will share their new city with the Chiefs of the AFC's Western division.

Despite the controversial teamnames that the franchise has endured, Snyder will continue to court high priced free agents and overpay for head coaches for little-to-no positive results. The season starts in September.

Key
*- Parts of this report may be false. However, the season does start in September.

Pope Adolph I

Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, renamed Pope Adolph I (or Benedict XVI depending on who you ask) was a member of the Hitler Youth when it was the "in" thing in Germany. He enrolled in the Hitler Youth when he was 14 in 1941. The new pope was good friends with the late Mother Teresa, who beat up crippled children because she thought it was funny.

Pope Adolph I gives a nun a communion wafer. If you look close you can see a swastika imprinted of the wafer. Or he's helping that nun drop Ecstasy, whatever's funnier.


But seriously, what the fuck? The pope was a Nazi?! Now, to be fair, he denies sharing the Nazi creed. Pope Adolph I claims that it was compulsory for every German child to join the Hitler Youth, that his family was strictly anti-Nazi, and he deserted the war effort in 1945. We must consider these denials thoughtfully.

The pope claims that he was forced to join the Hitler Youth against his will. It may seem easy to excuse him for this, because of the situation at the time. Any dissenters of the totalitarian state faced possible death. Plus, he was only 14 at the time he joined, just a kid really.

Unfortunately, his participation is not as easily forgiven. He joined the Hitler Youth in 1941, 8 years after Hitler came to power and 2 years after the war began against Poland. The Hitler Youth "served" children of all ages (not Jews), not just 14 year olds. It is quite difficult to imagine that all of the sudden 8 years into Hitler's reign and 2 years after the war in Europe officially began, a 14 year old would be forced to join the Hitler Youth. Either he was forced to join earlier (like in 1933 when Hitler gained power), which obviously he wasn't, or he joined on his own free will.

His age is not a plausible excuse to fall back on either. There is a belief that people should be forgiven for their mistakes when they were 14. In actuality, fourteen-year-olds are quite mature; they know what they're doing. When I was 14, I peed in some tupperware in the Container Store on Rockville Pike. I was asked not to return in the form of a lifetime ban. Perhaps the pope's escapades with the Hitler Youth when he was 14 should have resulted in a lifetime ban for his being pope. That's all I'm saying.

His family was anti-Nazi. Then how come they allowed their son to join Hitler Youth? We've established that it was not compulsory to join. Pope Adolph I is lying about why he joined because it is no longer popular to be associated with the Nazis. It hurts with the women now. It's like a guy who sported a Jerry Curl in the 1980s. At the time he thought he was hip, but now he won't admit he flaunted that hairstyle willingly.

Many people might criticize the pope's desertion of the war as cowardice or unpatriotic. I don't give a shit about that. I would never join the army, when it was actually mandatory or not. What I'm concerned about is that Pope Adolph I is a quitter.

So the Catholics now worship a Nazi Pope, who they selected the day before Hitler's birthday. All I can say now is that the pope is 78 years old and maybe he'll die soon. Then we should epopel Sammy Davis Jr.

Mike Tyson: In His Own Words (according to his lawyer)

Publisher's note- I felt compelled to publish this clarification of Mr. Mike Tyson's words submitted by his lawyer on the advice of my own crack legal team. This is yet another example of why crack is wack and I need a new legal team.

The Abyss of Absurdity

(Editor's note- I got nothing)

I, Michael Gerard Tyson, have been blessed to be given the opportunity by God to entertain the good people of the United States of America with my boxing expertise. My life has seen numerous challenges, which I have not always handled with grace. However, any mistakes that I have made in the past were not due to ill intentions. Instead, I periodically let my emotions get the best of me and I apologize for any harm that I have caused anyone. In the future, I vow to treat others with the respect that they deserve.

Michael G. Tyson

Mike Tyson: In His Own Words

Publisher's note- I was rummaging through all of the stacks of papers on my desk from potential writers when I came across this powerful look into the mind of Mike Tyson. Its power lies in its truth. It would not have any meaning had it not come from Mike Tyson himself. Here is Mr. Tyson's view of his surroundings, enjoy.

The Abyss of Absurdity

(Editor's note- Any misspellings or other improper use of the English language have been left unedited in order to capture the true emotion of the author's words. Although, you do kinda wonder if this guy's got spell-check on his computer.)

In my life I have felt humiliation, degagation, and any other T-I-O-N you can think of. I used to be synonymous with manliness, now I am synonymous with debutchery. I weep like a woman as I sit in my bubble bath. I am fully cognacient of people's perception of me. Listen, bitches look at me as some kind of loon. Like one of those Loony Toons. Like mothafucking Bugs Bunny or some shit. Daffy Duck mothafucker. I don't get as much ass now that I'm married again. Man, bitches are scared of me!

I am the type of guy who is misunderstood and underestimated. People think I'm just some tough guy who beats up mothafuckers and bitches for fun. They don't know that I cry until I piss my pants when Sam I Am finally decides that he'll eat those green eggs and ham. It's a beautiful thing. There's so much beauty in the world. I've seen the beauty of fear with my own eyes. It happened when Trevor Burbeck was making womanly gestures like "Uhhh, errr, eeee," towards the end of our bout with one another.

That's how I view boxing, it's a bout with one another not against. It's like a poetic tango between two scientists. And then I come in and punch a mothafucker in the face until he bleeds. Before each match I pray for that blood to splatter on me so that I can suck it off my gloves and boxing shorts when I get back to my dressing room. My opponent's blood gives me power.

Remember that one bitch I married from that tv show? I saw that show after I married that bitch and that's why I smacked that whore. I have deamons that I cannot control.

An oft expounded upon shenanigan is my episode with Evander Holifield. I feel an explanation is in order. During my training for the second fight with Evander I developed a taste for human flesh. I stalked one elementary school and beat up an assmunch until he died form my wicked right crosses. It was funny as shit bitch. So then I ate him. Man, that lil bitch was delicious. During the fight, I saw Evander's ear, cawling me saying "Mike eat me. Please eat me," it continued, "are you a bitch Mike? If you don't take a big bite outta me you're a bitch." So a man did what he had to do.

They also say I'm stupid. I know, I can read bitch. Man I read it on tv and in the papers; I read that shit. Like they said I was stupid and crazy when I threatened to eat Lennox Lewis children. I told Lennox, "I'm gonna eat your children." Fuck that shit, I knew he didn't have any children. That's why I said it, it's called playing mindgames. I made him think about that throughout the whole fite. I'm like a sikeiatric with those mindgames and shit.

I'm not being honest. I made the eating his children remark because I was scared. I knew I would lose that fite. Lennex is bigger than me. Hes dick's bigga than mine, ya heard? I know how to fuck in the ring. I was scared like a bitch married to me. But yeah, I knew he didn't have any children, I was just scared.

I raped Woody Allen in prison. Made him my bitch, ya know. He taught me so much. He helped me see that there was more to me than intimidation. I was hurting. It was the first time I got caught for my hobby of raping people. Woody was in there for having sex with his daughter, which is fucking crazy, even for me. I mean I have sex with otha peeps daughters, but my own, damn fuck! That's ludicrous. I'm a real man. Woody taught me its ok to alleviate my pain through crying and using humor instead of raping hoes. He taught me my schooling. That's where I got this expansive vocabulary of words.

I'm just normal, tryin to do that normal thang you know. It's like all these people are looking at me. Those fiters challenge me. How dare they challenge me with their primitive fiting skills! I got those bitchass mothafuckers in the press just trying to take down a black man and a devout Muslim. I go to a restaurant and eat and don't pay for shit. I'm famous. People want to be like me. I got women and men who want to make love to me, it's that real. Real fucking life. That's my life. I just raise my kids, I love them, and hustle the only way I know how. By fiting.

Michael G. Tyson

My Choice for Pope

A new word has been invented: epopel. It will be used to define the process of selecting a new pope. I will have my own epopel online, which I guess makes it an e-epopel or something. Post your comments regarding who you think should be the next pope through our epopel. But remember, please be serious. No monkey business. My choice is Sammy Davis Jr.

Sammy Davis Jr. should be the next pope, despite the fact that he's a black Jew and has been deceased for 15 years.


Sammy Davis may seem like an unlikely choice because he would be the first black man ever to be epopeled. He would also be the first Jew ever voted the leader of the Catholics (as pope anyway). His death many years ago, makes his selection even more unlikely. However, Sammy Davis Jr. was a respected entertainer in his day. He was not like the performers of today, who are lucky to have one talent. No, he was multi-versed in delighting his audiences. Plus, wouldn't it be really cool to have a black Jewish pope? That would be a big "suck it" to the Italian delegation of cardinals.

Mr. Davis' untimely death of cancer in 1990 hurts his chances. But c'mon, of the three things hindering his chances, the dead thing is third most important behind the black and the Jewish things. Even the Catholic guy "sinning himself" in the corner knows that. Mr. Davis had a glass eye and hung out with "rat pack," some sort of popular "pack" back during an era when many Justin Timberlakes haunted the few winks Frank Sinatra caught, with their crazy dancing, not-so-good singing, and the overall unlikability this imagined army of Justin Timberlakes possessed. How prophetic Mr. Sinatra's visions were.

As exemplified by the Rat Pack, Sammy Davis hung out with Italians, so he'd be accustomed to dealing with them on a regular bases as pope. He also appeared on the Cosby Show as a deep illiterate dude, so he knows what it's all about. He'd be a natural. Sure there would be doubters. Those that managed to look past his race, his religion, and his current medical status might find other areas to disqualify him. He was married, he smoked quite a bit, and he hung out with the fucking Rat Pack for Christ-sake. Nevertheless, I am able to look beyond all of those apparent disqualifying factors and nominate Sammy Davis Jr. in my epopel.