Tag Archives: Satire

Biden Introduces Obama to Twerking

28 Aug


President Obama: Let me just say, we cannot appear weak here. If we do not strike at Syria and strike at them with great force, Assad will be over there there thinking “Oh, that Obama is weak, a real chicken shit, let’s gas some more people. And the nut from North Korea. What would stop him from doing the same?”

Vice President Biden: I agree. Let’s bomb them. How ’bout this afternoon, three-ish?

President Obama: But don’t we need to go to the United Nations first, you know, get some kind of authorization, like a note or something? I better call David. Get me David on the phone.

Vice President Biden: No, no. Wait a sec. Here, take a look at this. I think this will help. Watch this.

(Joe slides his laptop over to Barrack)


President Obama: My God, who’s the guy in the Beetlejuice costume?

Vice President Biden: No, look at the girl, Hannah Montana. Look at what she’s doing there.

President Obama: Oh. Yeah. I see that. What is that?

Vice President Biden: That there’s called twerking. It’s the thing now. It’s not all that difficult. I’ve been working on it. You just bend over a little . . . and . . . here, let me show you.

(Joe stands)

See here, I have to hold onto a table or something because of my back, but you’re younger. You can just raise your arms up over your head and do this.

(Joe begins to twerk with one hand on the table and one over his head)

President Obama: But what are you doing? I can’t tell if your bottom is bouncing like this young lady’s. It looks like you’re just–

Vice President Biden: You can’t tell through my slacks?

President Obama: No Joe I can’t.

Vice President Biden: Dammit, here, let me take off my pants so you can see. I could feel some bounce back there. Are you sure you couldn’t tell?

President Obama: No, Joe, not at all.

(Joe takes off his pants and resumes twerking, holding his shirt and jacket up above his butt)

Vice President Biden: Okay, there we go. You see that? Look at that! I know you’re seeing it now, huh? What do you think about that, prez? That’s twerking right there.

President Obama: Yeah, yeah, I see it. Not bad, not bad. But I think I can do it better than that.

Vice President Biden: No way.

President Obama: Yeah. Yeah. I think–

(Joe stops twerking)

Vice President Biden: I don’t think so. You saw the bounce, right. I was all over the place back there.

President Obama: Yeah, Joe, I saw it, but I think I can do it better. Here, let me try.

(Barrack stands, unbuckles his belt, slide out of his pants, shirt, and jacket)

Vice President Biden: Yeah, we’ll see won’t we? Oh, getting all serious, huh? Mr. Competitive over here.

(Barrack bends knees, raises arms up, twerks)

Vice President Biden: Why’s your tongue out like that? What is that?

(Barrack stops)

President Obama: I’m twerking. The young lady, Hanna Montana, she had her tongue out.

Vice President Biden: No, you don’t have to do that. It’s not part of it.

(Barrack resumes)

President Obama: Yeah, there it is. That feels good. See there? See there?

Vice President Biden: Yeah, not bad. Not bad.

(Press Secretary Jay Carney opens the door, enters, Barrack stops twerking)

Jay Carney: Mr. President, we need a statement on–whoa, whoa, whoa. Sorry guys. I’ll come back.

President Obama: No. Jay, come in here. You tell us who can twerk better, me or Joe. Be honest.

Jay Carney: Mr. President . . . Syria?

President Obama: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Syria this, Syria that. Let’s do this real quick and then we’ll talk about Syria.

Happy *late* Father’s Day to Me

17 Jun

Hey world, I’m confused about something. Yesterday, I saw a million and one posts on Facebook that referred to other men as “the best dad ever.” I saw a lot of “Happy Father’s Day to the best dad in the world!!” Yes, people were generous with their exclamation points.

Come on. Why all the exaggeration? We can’t all be the best. I think you all know that, right? If there’s five million great dads, there’s five million shitty dads. Most fathers are average. And average is fine. Don’t be ashamed of your average father. My father is average. You didn’t see me calling my dad “the best in the whole, wide world” because I would be lying my ass off.

I think I know what you’re up to. Every single father wants to think he’s doing a great job. But let’s get real. What father wants to hear or read the truth? If we were all honest, we’d see some of this:

  • Happy Father’s Day to my solid dad who has always tried really hard to be a good dad. Though he sometimes failed, he’s never stopped trying to improve.
  • Happy Father’s Day to one of the best dads on his street!
  • Happy father’s day to my dad who has improved his fatherly skills every year since 2007. Sure, he was a shitty dad for most of my childhood, but as he’s aged, he’s realized what a f**k-wad he used to be. Now, he’s no longer one of the worst dad’s in the world; he’s a couple of years from reaching the statistical average.
  • I want to wish my father an unhappy father’s day because he basically ruined my life. I’m a stripper because of him, so, yeah, I hope he rots in hell because that’s where he’s going. 

On the other hand, once in awhile you’ll come across a tremendously skilled father. Not very often. It’s like, once in a lifetime. 

Take me, for instance. According to the rankings, I’ve finally cracked the top 100 dads of the world. Don’t believe me? I received a major award by certified mail last week.

I wish you could experience my skills. Someone should make a documentary. Seriously. I father like Tom Brady plays quarterback. (No, that doesn’t work because sometimes Tom Brady has a bad game.) I father like the sun puts off heat. I father so awesomely that it would make you woozy. Some say I “father like God.” Whatever that means.

I overwhelm my daughters with 324 megatons of love every day. I give so many hugs, my arm muscles are huge.

They think (know) I’m hilarious. I’m so much fun that they have rock-solid abdominal muscles from laughing so much.

I allow them to be messy and creative. I allow them to make mistakes. But yet, I know when to rein them in and when to administer the perfect amount of discipline. There’s a fine line between being too permissive and too strict and I have finally found it.

I do not physically spank my daughters, but I subtly alter my voice and face to end unwanted behavior. It’s called a “mental spanking,” which I invented. I have been widely published on the topic in many obscure scholarly journals that you’ll never read.

My daughters don’t even know they’re being mentally spanked. They just automatically do the right thing and think it was their own idea.

I can quell an argument between my daughters with a deft swipe of my pinky finger. Out in public, strangers are like “Hey handsome father, how’d you do that? Are you, like, a Jedi Knight or something?”

I say “Actually, I’m not a Jedi, but I can see how my amazing dad skills would make you ask that.”

Sometimes, I let them hash out their differences by themselves. The ratio between when I intervene and when I lay back is perfect.

I impart wisdom to them every hour of every day.

I have already guaranteed their lifelong happiness.

I would go on, but I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging. It’ll get a little weird.

Just know that I’m on to your games, your “best dad” bull**it.

Your dad is average and you know it.


Oprah and Lance on the Editing Room Floor

20 Jan


Tebow to resume off-season practice of strangling small animals

15 Jan

After Tim Tebow’s Denver Broncos were throttled by the New England Patriots Saturday night, Tim Tebow revealed his controversial plans for the off-season.

Wearing a purple shirt and tie, Tim Tebow stepped up to the podium and addressed the media.

“Before I talk about anything else, first I want to thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and my teammates for working so hard, not only tonight, but the entire season.” Tebow said.

Tebow went on to answer several questions: about the lopsided loss, about all the attention he’s received, and about playing against Tom Brady.

Then it got a little weird when he was asked about his off-season plans.

“I’m going to work hard to improve all facets of my game,” Tebow said. “And I’m going to strangle as many small animals as possible, mostly kittens.”

As the stunned media wondered what to make of this new development, Tebow continued.

“Last year since we didn’t make the playoffs, I got an earlier start and probably strangled 21 or 22 small animals, including two parakeets and a cockatiel.”

Tebow was asked how he justifies this practice, given his strong religious devotion and vows to make the world a better place.

“Uh, before I answer that I want to thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for giving me so many opportunities last off-season to strangle so many small animals, including a couple of nasty ferrets and a disabled boy’s pet hamster.”

The mood in the room darkened and a couple of reporters stormed out in disgust.

“What kind of man are you?” A man shouted.

“Before I answer that question I want to thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for giving me the drive and motivation to strangle a bunch more small animals this off-season,” Tebow continued. “I’ll probably get things started tomorrow after church by strangling my neighbor’s brown tabby, Lucy. Then I’m going to watch some football.”

When it rains…it smells a little bit like urine

27 Jul

a puppy whizzing on my head.

I realize it’s “frowned upon” to “kill” a puppy. It’s unethical, illegal, ugly, stupid, just plain not cool. But…

The other day I was standing in the basement with Jennifer looking at something or talking about something (I’m pushing 40 and my memory is slipping, give me a break). I felt water dripping on me. As hot as it’s been, I figured that it was a sweaty pipe, so I held my hand out, letting it drip into my hand, studying it (It looked like water with bits of coffee grounds in it). I felt a drop on my head; I didn’t move or even flinch. So basically I’m bathing in this mystery liquid until Jennifer–who must be smarter than me I realize after this incident–notices it and shows instant interest to know exactly what it is and where it’s coming from.

“Is he peeing up there?”

I scoffed and said something about a pipe. Dog pee dripping on me, what’s wrong with this silly girl?

So she marches up the steps and I follow her to the living room so we’re right above where we had been standing and there’s a puddle of pee on the hardwood floor.

So, yes, our new dog whizzed on my head.

Editor’s note: No puppy was harmed after this unfortunate incident. The author was being facetious up there in that opening sentence. He’s a vegan for chrissakes.  That means he follows strict rules against eating, wearing, punching, kicking, slapping, sodomizing, or verbally abusing puppies.


Local Boy’s New Slinky Tangled, Again

17 Feb

Jimmy's Slinky, Before

Jimmy Wormley thought it would be different this time.

Last week at Skate ‘N Shake, the Edwardsville resident unwrapped a shiny, new Slinky toy from his friend Stanley Stalegrass as they celebrated Jimmy’s tenth birthday. As the cool metal met his hands, he made a silent promise to himself. He closed his eyes, cradled the toy to his chest, and mouthed the words “This Slinky will last forever.”

Unfortunately, the Slinky was a tangled mess within 45 seconds.

Jimmy's Slinky, After

Of course, this wasn’t the first time Jimmy has been devastated by the tangle-prone toy. He received a plastic, rainbow-colored Slinky from Grandma and Grandpa Wormley last year. It lasted all of  27 seconds.

“I fiddled with that damn thing for an hour last year,” said Joe, Jimmy’s father. “Those things can’t be fixed. Even if you do get ’em untangled they’re all bent to hell. This year I just tossed it in the trash.”

When asked how Jimmy handled the ruined toy this year, Joe became agitated.

“Oh jeez, you should of seen him. He cried and cried right there in front of all ‘is friends and even that little girl he likes–what’s her name?–Jill,” Joe said, spit running down his chin. “I wanted to give him a good smack on the head, but I didn’t. I mean, not until we got home. The boy don’t deserve no working Slinky acting like a little whiny baby.”

According the the famous 1989 National Tangled Slinky Study, conducted by Maxine Styway, Ph.D., the popular toy, invented in the early 1940s, is not known for being sturdy enough to, say, be handed down from father to son.

Last Year's Slinky

I examined close to ten thousand Slinky toys over a ten year period and found that in the hands of male children they lasted, on average, 19 seconds before tangling. In the hands of female children, it’s a little higher, where they lasted up to 24 seconds. I found that children enjoy stretching the toy beyond its capabilities. Also, children (both boys and girls) tend to fight over toys. The Slinky toy, unfortunately, does not stand up to yanking this way and that.

A follow-up call yesterday to the Wormley home revealed that Joe had purchased a Paddle Ball toy for Jimmy “to shut him up.”

According to Jimmy’s distraught mom, Sally, the elastic string broke even before they made it back to their car at the nearby Glen Carbon Wal-Mart. At home, Joe tied the string back together. Twelve seconds later, the string came loose from the staple on the paddle. Seven seconds after Joe reattached the string to the paddle, the string became detached from the ball. At that point, Joe repeatedly whipped his son on the a– with the cheap paddle until it broke.


Do Dogs Dream? Boobs Boobs Boobs Boobs Boobs

15 Feb


I have always thought that dogs dream just like humans. Luckily for our four-legged friends, they probably do not dream about income taxes, world hunger, and cancer. Unfortunately for them, they probably do not dream about Natalie Portman’s boobs either. Of course, I don’t dream about Natalie Portman’s boobs because I’m married. I dream about the same things all married men dream about: Scarlett Johannson’s boobs.

a Boob

To confirm that dogs do, in fact, dream, I typed “Katy Perry’s boobs” into Google and found out nothing about dogs, but spent twenty minutes looking at all the cool hairstyles Katy Perry has worn since her rise to fame following the hit single “I Kissed a Girl” in 2008.

Eventually, I made it to this article titled “Do Dogs Dream?” written by Stanley Coren, Ph.D. and he tells us something along the lines of:

of course, you dummy readers without advanced degrees, you KNOW dogs dream because you have seen them twitching and shaking and whining and growling in their sleep. Big dummies.


He also writes about “the pons,” which is a part of the brain (it’s not very scientific sounding, is it?) that keep us (and dogs) from acting out our dreams. Without my “pons” last week, I would have driven eighty miles in my sleep to my childhood home to fight space aliens with a samurai sword. In an experiment on dogs, they removed or deactivated this section of their brains and then–the most abhorrent act in this experiment–forced them to watch The English Patient to bore them to sleep quickly.

Once asleep and dreaming without their “pons,” scientists were astounded to find the dogs standing up on their hind legs asking for martinis, cigarettes, and hookers. I don’t know HOW I missed those study results in the mainstream media.

I’m writing about this topic because our dog, Sammie, was dreaming yesterday at my feet as I was napping on the couch. She started to twitch and whine, waking me up. I then fell asleep and dreamed about strangling her for interrupting my dream about Salma Hayek’s boobs. I’m thankful for my “pons,” because I don’t really want to kill our dog. Though, most of the time, she acts half-dead anyway. That’s what got me wondering: If a dog does nothing all day, what the heck can she be dreaming about?

More Boobs

So I set about removing or deactivating our dog’s “pons” to determine the answer to that question. Of course, I knew I needed a scalpel and a bunch of absorbent towels, but, beyond that, I had no idea where to begin. So I did what most intelligent, responsible pet owners would do: I typed in “Christina Hendricks’ boobs” into Google. Luckily, this distracted me for so long that I gave up the idea of cutting into our dog’s brain just to find out if she really dreams about lying around all day. I mean, how can she expend more energy dreaming than she does awake? When awake, twitching and whining would at least give me a sign that she’s still alive.

So, to recap, I have learned two things today: (1) dogs dream, and (2) the internet is a good place to look at celebrity boobs.

Finally, more boobs