Currently Featured on Cringehumor.net

I’ve had enough with Miley Cyrus already or as I like to call her: Hannah Sluttanah.  Is anyone else sick of this slightly, post-pubescent-jailbait-piece-of-ass being stuffed down our collective throats by the Disney Machine?  The Magical Kingdom loves to market these teensy-weensy-teeny-bopper trollops. Their names even sound the same: Britney, Lindsay, Hillary… and now Miley, the latest Minnie Magdalene.

Their trajectory is always the same too: they start out all sweet and innocent and then (I think it’s in their contract) they eventually end up in public wearing a miniskirt with no underwear, flashing their vertical smiles for the paparazzi. Then they’re all like “I didn’t know…” OMG!!!  I’m sorry, if you’re rich enough to pay for an entourage and a security detail, you can cough up a little extra cash for a couple of guys on panty patrol so your peachfish doesn’t end up on the front page of the Huffington Post, princess.

And now there is a furor that Miley’s underage Hoo Ha shots have gone viral (make your own double entendres). She’s only 17 years old! How could they post them online???!!! Can we drop the Mama Grizzly indignation a minute here? Give me a break, ok? She knows what she’s doing.  When I was sixteen I never left the house bare-balling it in a kilt, only to be found all spread eagle during high school photo day.

You just figure that the younger generation would have learned their lesson from the whole Britney Debacle.  That was when her career jumped the shark. When she showed hootenanny on the internet. America voted nay on that Vajayjay.  It killed the mystery.

Cause that’s all these little ladies have to offer.  The fantasy of the sweet, wholesome, innocent, girl-on-the-verge next door.  Remember 16-year old Britney in her little blue jean skirt ever so slightly peeking open. “Oops I did it again…” Every guy’s inner-pedophile went AWOOOOOOOGA!  Unacknowledged fact: every guy has an inner pedophile and every woman, who has ever worn her hair in pigtails, put on a too tight Strawberry Shortcake t-shirt, or a pair of Hello Kitty panties is pandering to it. Ok ladies? You might as well be sitting on a park bench, in a pair of knee-highs, legs a-dangling, licking a big ole’ lollipop. And if you’re married with kids and think your well trained hubby is any better, perhaps you should ask yourself why he gets so randy when you put on that catholic school skirt. Cause he’s thinking of banging your daughter’s best friend. Hard .

“Oops I did it again…” Remember guys? Guiltily peeking up between her downy legs, we idealized that “area”. We thought of it as a beautiful, unsullied virginal forest in the Heartland of America. Then the post-teen-pantiless pics were posted, and we saw it had been completely decimated, slashed and burned.  There were crumpled Budweiser cans and Slim Jim wrappers, used condoms blowing in the breeze like tumbleweeds.  What happened? Couldn’t she just cover up that Crotch-trocity! I’m not exaggerating. I’m sure many of you Googled it. It looked like someone took a razor blade and sliced open a fetal pig.  Ugh! Get that off my internet and put it into a jar of formaldehyde. Better yet she should have given it to K-Fed in the divorce settlement because he was the only one left that wanted to fuck it.  They say it’s what’s on the inside that counts. We’ve seen it Britney and we’re still nauseous. Fade to obscurity you hackneyed herpes sore.

And now it’s just a matter of time before Miley’s Lolita schtick loses its luster (along with her soon-to-be-legal labia) and we move on to the next underage masturbation fixation. Cause let’s face it: America is just a big, fat, hairy, sweaty child molester’s psyche riding around on an ice-cream truck and we are all buying push-up pops.  We might as well call ourselves the United States of Polanski.

It’s ridiculous! First the accelerator sticks and now the brakes don’t work. Enough with the hollow apologies and hokey whoopsie-doo-baby-made-a boom-boom commercials, alright? We expect more. We didn’t collectively kill our auto industry for shoddy workmanship and unreliability. If we wanted that we could have just bought a Buick. I mean it is a Japanese company. Shouldn’t a couple of those execs be falling on their swords, literally? See that’s the problem. We need to bring back good old-fashioned Samurai ethics. I guarantee that the impending threat of hara-kiri would get ole Akio to personally double check those vroom-vroom pedals and stop-stop pads before they left the assembly line for our crumbling pot-holed highways.

Lucky this didn’t come to light five years ago or it might have sullied Six Feet Under’s stellar season finale montage (one of the greatest product placements in the history of advertising). Where instead of Claire driving her pristine Prius into a panorama of the great wide open to Sia’s Breathe Me, she’d have floored it directly into an oncoming semi-tractor trailer (due to a jammed gas pedal and ABS failure) ending in the sound of screeching metal and a death-rattling scream. Surely a subdued sewing-up and embalming of little sister Fisher’s mangled corpse by David and Rico, concluding in a tasteful yet somber service, would not have held the same place in our hearts.

And even though it hearkens back to better times, it’s probably not the best idea to bring back their old Oh What a Feeling Ad Campaign hoping for a retro-fueled resurgence. Remember: Oh What a Feeling… Toyota! However, today it would be more like: Oh What a Feeling… except in your lower extremities which are not so responsive to pinpricks since the accident… Aren’t you glad you didn’t buy American? Toyota! Certainly not as catchy.

Yup, there is nothing like a loyal demographic of consumers compelled to be fitted with Stephen-Hawking-style voice synthesizers to facilitate communication with their emotionally shattered relations and regrettably receiving all future meals intravenously to tarnish a brand name.

PETA demanded this week that the organizers of Pennsylvania’s Groundhog Day festival replace Punxsutawney Phil with a robotic stand-in.

A disgruntled Phil has steadfastly refused to abdicate his position and be replaced by what he calls a “animatronic fraud”. He has reportedly armed and barricaded himself in his burrow, chittering that he would shoot if he sees “anyone’s motherf*cking shadow” . Recently fathering a litter of six and with unemployment at an all time high in Pennsylvania, the laid-off rodent would be hard pressed to find a job, let alone one with a premium Health Plan for his brood.

1/18 to 1/24

The surprising new Senator-elect Scott Brown from Massachusetts descended on Capitol Hill to a celebrity’s welcome Thursday as he introduced himself to a Congress he says has lost its way.

His suggested solution: to elect more has-been nude models with the patriotic courage to raise semi-talented offspring who fail to win on nationally broadcast reality shows.

Amy Winehouse pleaded guilty Wednesday to drunkenly assaulting a theater manager at a family Christmas show and was ordered to pay her victim 185 pounds ($300) in compensation.

Her counteroffer of a bottle of Jager, a quick feel and a couple of hits off her crack pipe was denied.

Confirming what practically everyone already suspected, John Edwards confessed Thursday that he had fathered the baby born to his ex-mistress, Rielle Hunter.

He then admitted what few had expected, that he was also guilty of injecting anaerobic steroids during his 2009 presidential bid, was responsible for giving Richard Heene the idea for the hoax involving his young son (now known as Balloon Boy), and had most recently regrettably slept with Tiger Woods after an all-night bender with Bill Clinton (all three had escaped from sex rehabilitation clinic earlier in the day).

A court commissioner on Friday approved Britney Spears’ request to donate the dress she wore to the 2008 MTV Video Music Awards so it can be auctioned, with the proceeds going to help Haitian earthquake victims.

The initial offer of her underwear was rescinded, as she was belatedly reminded by her legal guardian that she wasn’t wearing any that night.

It was formally announced this Thursday that Air America Radio, a radio network that was launched in 2004 as a liberal alternative to Rush Limbaugh and other conservative commentators, would be shut down due to financial woes.

After further investigation it was determined that the network had actually stopped transmissions over two years ago but made the mistake of solely informing the public through their broadcast.

Osama bin Laden claimed responsibility for the failed attempt to bomb a Detroit-bound airliner on Christmas in a new audio message released this Sunday.

The message also included other failed attempts he insisted on accepting responsibility for, including Martha Cloakely’s Senate run, Jay Leno’s disastrous move to 10 pm and Diane Kruger’s fashion faux pas of wearing a fuschia-colored dress to this year’s Golden Globes that just didn’t quite bring out the best in her skin tone

The rock band Scorpions is bringing down the curtain on a career spanning more than four decades.

The curtain will be provided to them by the Clackamas County Fair and Rodeo.

A Michigan defense contractor will voluntarily stop stamping references to Bible verses on combat rifle sights made for the U.S. military, a major buyer of the company’s gear.

Instead they now plan to inscribe Sarah Palin’s tweets concerning the upcoming Rapture on the handles.

Here’s a new warning from health experts: Sitting is deadly. Scientists are increasingly warning that sitting for prolonged periods – even if you also exercise regularly – could be bad for your healllllllllllllllllllllllllljfad]psgo]a[ISJG[pj!!!………….PLEASE SEND HELP…..massghGPHWRQ8AFJG

1/11 to 1/17

A nervous Glenn Beck insisted on reading Sarah Palin an entry from his journal this week in what was their first sit-down interview.

According to an anonymous staffer, at its conclusion he gave her a clammy handshake, followed by an awkward hug and then hastily handed her a mix tape he’d “spent the whole night working on” before running into his dressing room and locking the door. He then reportedly “wimpered and wailed” repeatedly, exclaiming “STUPID STUPID STUPID!!!” for approximately 3 hours.

LA Gang Tours began offering tourists a peek at the most violent gangland in America, chartering buses which will drive through the heinous hoods for $65.

Incidental drive-bys are free-of-charge.

It was announced this week that new research indicates that the Y chromosome – the thing that makes a man male – is evolving far faster than the rest of the human genetic code.

Which, of course, means a higher rate of mutation.

Rev. Pat Robertson claimed this week that Haiti suffered a devastating earthquake because of its “pact with the devil” to overthrow French rule under Napoleon.

Although spokesmen for Beelzebub have formally denied the existence of such a pact, they did release a statement from the Prince of Darkness which said that he was “looking forward to seeing Mr. Robertson real soon… AHAHA… AHAHAHA … AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Call it pork in a petri dish – scientists have developed a technique to turn pig stem cells into strips of meat.

McDonalds is suing for patent infringement.

Ending more than a decade of denials and evasion, Mark McGwire finally admitted this week that steroids and human growth hormone helped make him a home-run king.

Nooooo! Really?

John McCain has steadfastly refused to discuss the new book Game Change, which asserts that his vetting of Alaska governor Sarah Palin was “hasty and haphazard.”

Claiming to be unfamiliar with the tome he said he would give it to “some guy” on his staff and be back with a statement in 3 minutes.

This week’s recession bargain: the space shuttle. NASA has slashed the price of these 1970s era spaceships from $42 million to $28.8 million apiece.

That’s a savings of over 13 million dollars. Act now and they’ll throw in one of their defective, soon-to-be-defunct Mars Rovers, free of charge! But wait, there’s more. If you pick up the phone now and agree to order the Atlantis or Discovery within the next 30 minutes we’ll throw in 19 cases of original recipe Tang!!! That’s an obsolete, non-functional spaceship and probe and all we have left of the expired orange drink that astronauts drank for just 28.8 million dollars. Act now!

Reports of airplanes hitting birds have soared since a stricken US Airways jet landed last year in New York’s Hudson River, and the government’s tally for last year could reach or even exceed 10,000 for the first time.

“I have never known birds of different species to flock together. The very concept is unimaginable. Why, if that happened, we wouldn’t stand a chance! How could we possibly hope to fight them?”

The Vatican newspaper and radio station panned the film “Avatar” this week, calling it simplistic and criticizing it for flirting with modern doctrines that promote the worship of nature as a substitute for religion.

It went on to demand that James Cameron offer penance by saying 500 Hail Marys and 250 Our Fathers or suffer having his immortal soul burn in eternal damnation. In other news they gave Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Sqeakquel a full 4 Crosses Up, declaring it “a delightful, unobjectionable, wholesome, rollicking romp, full of unexpected twists and turns for the entire God-fearing family.”

Julio Iglesias has a reputation as a famous lover, but he told a concert audience in Punte del Este, Uruguay this week that he had abandoned his prolific sex life 15 years ago.

The statement was made immediately following a lackluster performance in which he unable to remember the words to “All the Girls I’ve Loved Before”. Starting and stopping, the aging 66-year old crooner was finally reduced to humming and concluding the encore with a coughing fit in which his ultra-white dentures flew out into the front row. After the awkward admission he slowly shuffled off stage muttering that it was time for his pills.

Read More of Warren’s Writing: http://warrenholstein.wordpress.com/

The end is nigh. Watching Bill Kristol’s Eliza Do-nothing struggle to dress up her red-meat-tea-party talking points in snarkily delivered, barely comprehensible, pseudo-intellectual jargon on Fox News, as she is coaxed by Bill O’Righty like an over-eager poodle pup makes me think this Frankenditz might be the harbinger of the Rapture she’s spent her entire charmed life preparing for (AKA God’s Plan).

I’d rather be exposed to Glenn Beck after a full-blown Healthcare-Is-Fascism hissy fit, eyes streaming crocodile tears, rocking back and forth in the fetal position with his thumb in his mouth and a pool of drool dripping down his moisturized chinny chin-chin (actually high-fructose corn syrup, but it works for the camera) than this former second-string Miss Alaska smarmily playing pretend at punditry.

It’s like being forced to listen to your overzealous eight-year-old niece’s rousing rendition of The Music Man’s Pick a Little, Talk a Little at the Thanksgiving table. As she mangles the song by sputtering and stuttering and over-confidently mugging, going from moderately cute to overly grotesque in the ten minutes it takes for turkey to get cold and the mashed potatoes to grow a hardened crust.

And yet there Sarah is, being paid to spew lukewarm air and mutilate the English language on a national “news” network.

Exhibit A (On Obama’s poll numbers):

I-It was just a matter of time before more of that reflection of the people’s uncomfortable… ness that they feel towards this administration is manifesting in these poll numbers.

What??? How is it possible that she has a degree in broadcast journalism? I mean this is what she is allegedly good at, folks!

Exhibit B (On Harry Reid’s controversial remarks):

I come from a very diverse state. My family is very diverse. I’m married to an Alaskan Native. A lot of us don’t think along those lines that somebody’s skin tone would be criteria for, a-a qualification for the presidency. So his- his thinking and articulating of that that thought was-is quite perplexing, is quite unfortunate and is unacceptable.

I myself have many 1/8th Alaskan Native American friends (like her hubby Todd whose mother is a whole one-quarter Yup’ik). And far be it for me to argue that Alaska is not in fact the poster state for diversity… just as Iran is the poster nation for Zionism. However, I do find her unflagging support for the Tea Bagger Movement, whose fringes so blatantly assert that somebody’s skin tone should be “criteria for, a-a qualification for the presidency”, a tad bothersome.

Palin’s Bread n’ Butter

Wonder if she’ll be at the keynote address? Fingers crossed.

Man, as if the creepy, self-satisfied croak of ole Spin Lizzy Cheney wasn’t bad enough to bear, Fox had to go and up the ante with this brainless Barracuda. Could it possibly get any worse? Certainly! Let’s not forget that Palin has recently begotten Prejean, opening the floodgates for any bimbo with a bathing suit, baton-twirling act, fully realized implants and a dream. Why, Jason Chaffetz (R-Utah) has already suggested to TMZ (that other bastion of Fair and Balanced reporting) that Prejean could be a serious contender in the political arena, stating that: “[Carrie] has the ability to draw crowds and if she has a strong message to go with that, who knows what she can do? She has star power which can open doors.” Sound familiar? Hey, at least her video footage is mite more interesting to look at.

If George W. Dunderhead has succeeded in lowering the bar for any black-sheep trust-fundian screw-up with a powerful papa in politics to have a clear shot at being leader of the free world, then Sarah has certainly out-limboed the former Commander-in-Puppet by shattering the glass basement for both women and humanity alike.

Good thing Rupert Murdoch snatched her up.

1/4 to 1/10

The suspicious material found inside a passenger’s luggage that prompted the shutdown of a California airport this Tuesday turned out to be five soft drink bottles filled with honey.

The passenger, currently cooperating with authorities, would not comment further than to say “Oh, bother”.

Hanesbrands announced on Wednesday that it is ending its ad campaign featuring Charlie Sheen because of domestic violence charges filed against the actor.

In other news, American Apparel has just signed Charlie Sheen to be spokesperson for their new line of wife beaters.

A paternity suit launched by a Canadian woman seeking millions of dollars from Keanu Reeves was thrown out of court on Thursday.

After a battery of tests, the child was determined conclusively to be unrelated to Keanu, having an IQ above and beyond 50.

An airline passenger who yelled “I want to kill all the Jews” on a Detroit-bound plane was arrested on disorderly conduct and other charges, but authorities said Thursday that the incident didn’t appear to be terrorism-related.

Just Mel being Mel.

Ford Motor Co. is adding Twitter to its in-car entertainment and communication service, known as Sync, and suggests that the voice-activated system is safer for drivers than trying to manipulate applications on their cell phones.

This would give you the driver the benefit of leaving your hands free, to brace for impact, when that 18-wheeler plows through your flimsy Focus because you were too busy verbally re-tweeting what Snookie did last night on the Jersey Shore with the Situation.

Senate Democratic leader Harry Reid apologized on Saturday for having said in the past that Barack Obama should seek – and could win – the White House because Obama was a “light skinned” African-American “with no Negro dialect, unless he wanted to have one.”

TMZ reports that behind closed doors an unforgiving Obama allegedly bitch-slapped the stunned senator, repeatedly asking him why he was “frontin,’” admonishing him “not to be a playa hata,” and finally ending the altercation by inquiring “A-ight? We cool?”

“Diff’rent Strokes” actor Gary Coleman was sent to a hospital earlier this week after suffering what is believed to be a slight seizure. Coleman was in town to meet with producers of his latest film about removing a brief scene of unauthorized frontal nudity .

He apparently went into shock when introduced to one producer in particular.

Dudley could not be reached for comment.

The Montana Supreme Court said Thursday that nothing in state law prevents patients from seeking physician-assisted suicide.

Which will finally bring relief to the throngs of needlessly suffering people without the will to continue live… in Montana.

Octuplets mother Nadya Suleman is defending the doctor who helped her conceive 14 children, saying he did “absolutely nothing wrong.”

The doctor is no stranger to controversy, having faced criminal charges in the past for pulling the plug on a patient in a blatant act of euthanasia.

A giant 513 pound bluefin tuna fetched $177,000 dollars at an auction this Tuesday in Japan.

The purchase was promptly followed by the sale of what is believed to be the largest vat of Hellmann’s Mayonnaise for 25,000 dollars.

It was announced this week that the Hubble Space Telescope has captured the earliest image yet of the Universe–just 600 million years after the Big Bang.

Collini Out!

Netflix has announced this week that it has reached an agreement with Warner Brothers to delay sending out their latest movies by nearly a month.

In other news, millions of men across America are celebrating a great excuse to avoid being forced to watch and pretend to enjoy The Time Traveler’s Wife this Valentines Day.

The release date is February 9th… do the math people!

A new study has found that bathing patients with an antiseptic and squirting medicated ointment up their noses before surgery dramatically cuts the rate of dangerous staph infections afterward.

The previous method of showering patients with bacteria and spraying toxic contagions into their nostrils is planned to be slowly phased out.

A human skull that was apparently turned into a ballot box for Yale’s mysterious Skull and Bones society is going on the auction block this month.

They will also be auctioning off a chimpanzee skull that was utilized as a stolen ballot box.

It seems Fox’s Brit Hume managed to offend an entire faith last weekend by suggesting that Tiger Woods should convert from Buddhism, stating “I don’t think that faith offers the kind of forgiveness and redemption that is offered by the Christian faith.”

Buddhists across the country have collectively protested by simultaneously aligning their chakras and chanting the new mantra: NAM MYOHO RENGE DOUCHE.

Swine flu infections continue to drop and only one state – Alabama – was reporting widespread cases last week.

Alabama state officials are reportedly redoubling their efforts at prevention by reminding the local populace to wash their hands, consider vaccination and to stop kissing sick pigs.

Cash-strapped Hawaii can’t afford to pay for an election to replace a congressman who is planning to step down next month to run for governor, potentially leaving 600,000 urban Honolulu residents without representation in Washington.

A last-minute compromised barter, of fish, poi and an autographed Don Ho ukulele was unanimously rejected by the House.

A environmentally conscious couple from Spokane, Washington have announced their plans to collect aluminum cans to pay for their wedding. Andrea Parrish and Peter Geyer already have more than 18,000 cans so far.

They hope to hold their nuptials on July 31st… behind the local Walmart, followed by a rollicking reception across the freeway at IHOP. Rooty Tooty Fresh’ N Fruity Not Included. BYOB… but leave the cans, they need to save them for their luxurious 4-hour honeymoon rendezvous at the Motel 6.

1. Buggy Boy: Lancaster’s own little Amish 5-year-old Jebediah Junior’s romp with a cart full of freshly packed pickled preserves ending in a bone-rattling crash into Elder Silas’s windmill. Turns out, the boy was alive and well and hiding in a butter churn. Meanwhile his derelict daddy used the distraction to shave his beard, throw on a contraband pair of dungarees and a Kenny Loggins t-shirt, and skip town. Heading out to the big city of lights with his unbridled dreams of opening an adult-themed quilt shop/lemonade stand. The media missed the boat on this one… because, well, they have no media.

2. Cabin Boy: Alleged 1994 full-length feature film starring Chris Elliott and David Letterman. Yeah, right!

3. Tandem Bicycle Twin Girls: Remember the buxom blond stars of the late 80′s Wrigleys Double Your Pleasure Double Mint commercials? They were shown in dueling string bikini’s chewing gum and peddling their double-seated transport carefree across a beautiful boardwalk on a perfect seaside day. Turns out not only were they unrelated (let alone monozygotic) but were actually incapable of masticating and cycling at the same time, due most likely to a combination of eating disorders, cocaine abuse and/or casting couch roughhousing. After a grueling 483 takes and a near-death tragedy involving an imploding saline implant it was finally decided to use a separate shot with two unknown body doubles legs. If you look really close you can see the brunette stubble. The horror….

4. That Hummer Guy: You know the supposedly really tough cookie with the fu manchu and red doo-rag that blared past you on the way to work, blasting AC/DC’s Who Made Who and spewing tobacc-ee chew juice out of his open driver’s side window onto your freshly washed Honda Accord’s Dash? Well it turns out he was racing home to watch When Harry Met Sally for the 76th time on HBO while he cried on his futon in the fetal position, spooning chunks of Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby ice cream into his pained, grimacing, vulnerable, pockmarked mug, pining for any type of real human connection that didn’t end in probation or community service. You just don’t understand him!

5. Rapture GILF: The runner-up Miss Alaska token GOP crapshoot VP pick who is still taken seriously even though she:

(a) took 6 years and 5 different colleges, to finally graduate–from the University of Idaho for communications-journalism (it shows!) ,
(b) believes human beings and dinosaurs were hanging out by the tar pits 5,000 years ago like in Land of the Lost,
(c) claims to be a champion of family values although her eldest daughter had a child out-of-wedlock on her and her almost meth-in-law’s watch,
(d) is an avid disciple of the Third Wave Movement (which believe that all Christians will re-align under the Fivefold Ministry of Prophets and Apostles and others approved by the Big Bad Kahuna in the sky, while the youth will form “Joel’s Army” to rise up and combat the wicked during the end-of-days…oh and that they will have superpowers), and
(e) was personally prayed over by the Pastor Thomas Muthee (a firm believer in “territorial demonic possession”, that is that geographical locations and populations can become possessed by evil spirits) to protect her from witchcraft (it’s on YouTube folks!).

Nonetheless, she is continuously cited as a spokesperson and leader of the future Republican movement, even after she recently exercised her freedom of choice to abort her governorship before it came to full-term cause other people no play nice with her

Oh wait, I guess the media is in on that one….

You could put lipstick on a pig, but…

So it seems that Starbucks, the U.S. brewing behemoth, has decided to hawk an upscale version of Folger’s Crystals (currently gathering dust at the back of your out-of-touch nattering Nana’s pantry), but don’t you dare display your displeasure whilst within the immediate vicinity of one of their brainwashed baristas, or be prepared for a barrage of inane talking points and propaganda rivaling Liz Cheney’s blind backing of enhanced interrogation techniques. I’m not sure what remedial reprogramming retreat these poor part-timers were forced to attend, but it was apparently led by that murderous maenad Maryanne from True Blood or a direct descendent of Jim Jones ’cause there is zero room for dissension. Resistance is futile. You simply must drink the Kool-Aid… or neo-Sanka swill.

Is it somehow surprising that the franchise’s base of upscale liberal lefty latte-guzzling pseudo-intellects, who pride ourselves on being caffeination connoisseurs, might be a mite perturbed over the prospect of having a white-trash product pimped to us while trying to get our five o’clock fix and recharge our iPhones? We aren’t brewing up a batch of crystal meth in the bathroom units of our double-wides, looking for a quick-fix beverage to wash down our derelict dinner of Cheez-Whiz and Ritz Crackers for Cletis’s sake! Give it a rest; we don’t want to take your stupid taste test! We don’t care if this isn’t our grandfather’s instant coffee, it reminds us of our grandfather (who was last spotted hollering about health care at a town hall meeting due to a combination of dementia and Glenn Beck).

We have already agreed to pay three dollars for a cup of coffee. You’ve won. Don’t insult our intelligence by trying to get us to pledge allegiance to an inferior un-brewed commercialized commodity conceived by some snotty young marketing exec fresh out of grad school with plans for cutting losses by diversifying your elitist appeal to the general populace. Talk about watering down your “brand”. It was bad enough when you started in with that awful homogenized Pike’s Peak to compete with the Dunkin’ Donut’s demographic and their pansy palates. And let’s not forget those putrid pre-manufactured breakfast sandwiches (re-heated in those creepy gray cancer-causing ovens) prominently featured in your fly-ridden refrigerated display cases–yummers!

But for the coup de grace, it’s hard to believe your insolent insistence upon undermining the entire foundation of your existence: freshly ground, percolated C. Arabica that we pay a premium for you to prepare. Something authentic to be ingested and savored as we make our way through another impersonal, cyber-connected, pre-fabricated day. The churning in our stomachs, the burning in our bowels, the bing! bing! bing! of when it finally kicks in and everything is ok in the universe again. Gradual descent into despair transforms into rocketing ascent into possibility, hope and “what if?” Why would you want to dilute that?

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Jerome Corsi (author of NY Times bestseller’s The Obama Nation, Unfit for Command and the lesser known Kucinich: Satanic Vegan Fetus Molester) recently gave the former Alaskan governess a glimpse of his latest magnum opus revealing that the sleeper hit of the summer is not merely a Hollywood rags-to-riches blockbuster but actual live footage.

In it he ties the Obama Administration to the Prawns and lays out the president’s diabolical plans to transport them from their Johannesburg tent ghettos to brand spanking new little neo-Hooverville/Slumdog USA shantytowns that have been popping up all around the continental United States. Once adequately settled in and properly provided with specially subsidized cat-food stamps he alleges they will immediately be given green cards and made to serve as abortion technicians, death panelists and journalists for the non-yellow, fact-checking, reality-based, lefty, liberal mainstream media.

Worst of all their advanced weapon caches will be destroyed in an ongoing effort to leave us defenseless and ensure our surrender to a future Muslim theocracy run out of Iran and forcing good, decent, hard-working American citizens to follow the heathen laws of Sharia (forever clothing our supermodels, ending the era of the pulled pork sandwich and consequently bankrupting the Gilette corporation in the process).

An indignant Palin immediately released a series of searing Facebook status updates denouncing the impending alien immigrant infestation as “icky” and “un-American,” and questioning why such respected institutional publications such as The New York Times and The Washington Post were so quick to give the “film” such stellar reviews (while she doesn’t actually read the papers she does check Metacritic). Soon after she tweeted she was feeling “crankums” and hoped Todd would get home already to watch Trig so she could relax by field-dressing a moose (that she had recently sportingly shot down with a semi-automatic from an Apache helicopter), splurge on a long overdue mani-pedi and continue her never-ending preparations to ready the family’s fall-out shelter for the impending Apocalypse (a little insurance–just in case the good Lord judges them unfit during the Rapture in Alaska and they are forced to live amongst the outcast).

Liz Cheney, Sen. Charles Grassley and Sen.Tom Coburn also refused to contest Corsi’s allegations when appearing most recently on Lou Dobbs Tonight (where the host beat Glenn Beck’s crying jag world record by intermittingly wailing and sobbing throughout the live broadcast concerning the alleged alien alien invasion). Coburn (supporter of recent Birther legislation) also announced he is rallying the GOP to support a bill that will “keep those born and/or evolved outside of this galaxy outside our great nation”.

Currently Featured on the Huffington Post

Written and Performed by Ann Carr
Filmed and Directed by Warren Holstein

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Well, it appears Old Man Potter’s progeny didn’t fall far from the gnarled, twisted tree, as America bore witness to Liz Cheney unfurling her writhing power-hungry roots on Larry King, burrowing deep beneath the dirt filled with assorted creepy crawlies to feed her political prospects.

By refusing to de-legitimize the Birther Movement (who believe there is a 48-year-old conspiracy afoot to have a native born Kenyan infiltrate the White House–even if all evidence including birth certificate and newspaper announcements are in direct contradiction to their twisted xenophobic reality) and going on to question Obama’s loyalty to our God-loving nation of torture, revenge and fear of the other, it seems ole Spin Lizzy is simply fanning the flames of hillbilly hatred, hoping for a backdraft to buoy her onward and upward to fill the void left by the assassination of our nansy-pansy negotiating, anti-warmongering, internationally beloved, personal-freedom protecting, non-puppet-in-chief… or so the left-wing-leaning media would lead you to believe.

However, what many in the drive-by media have failed to call attention to (with their relentless reliance on facts and annoyingly adult insistence on authenticity) are the other un-debunked conspiracy theories with a possible grain of half-truth or titillation that Elizabeth has been both tirelessly uncovering and propagating in her down-time from fulfilling her birthright to world domination.

Here are her Top 3:

1. The Obamas’s Intergenerational Involvement in the Staged Apollo Moon Landing/Walk Footage
As of now, unauthenticated testimony from a fourth-party source implicates Barack Sr. as serving as not only a boom operator but gopher on a secret NASA soundstage which produced the awe-inspiring faked films. Although also possessing incontrovertible evidence such as a used coffee cup and the remnants of a glazed donut (gingerly bitten by the demented director), the clandestine whistleblower refuses to go public for fear of a vengeful Buzz Aldrin planting his 72-year-old, abnormally large, arthritic knuckles on his fragile, easy-to-bruise face.

Born just outside of Kendu Bay, Kenya, Big Daddy Barack was allegedly a member of a mysterious Kanyadhiang village tribe who had a fanatical aversion to green cheese (which those who have not bought into government-manipulated propaganda know the fungus-ridden satellite is comprised of). Anyway, the head witchdoctor of said heathen clan designated him and his offspring with the destiny of protecting all kindred palates from such evil-spirited celestial cultures, by any means necessary.

Is it merely coincidence or has Obama, Jr. most obviously followed in his father’s fictionalized filmed footsteps by sanctioning the release of brand spanking new “restored” footage produced by Hollywood movie mavens Lowry Digital of Burbank, California? Is the lactose-tolerant among us being deprived of our solar system’s tastiest treat?

2. Obama was the Third Shooter on the Grassy Knoll
Now the average uneducated layman might dismiss this out of hand, being that Obama was born on August 4th, 1961 and John F. Kennedy was assassinated on November 22nd, 1963. How could a two-year-old toddler wield a 6.5 mm caliber Carcano rifle, shouldering the recoil and blowback, when he could barely manage to walk and was (let’s not forget!) a native indigene of Africa at the time? Because he wasn’t an infant when he accomplished the assassination silly. Hello! Most of you are dismissing two of the most obvious variables that would handily lead to such a foreseeable conclusion: Jews and time travel. As we all now know Jews are masters of manipulating the media. Now, what if they were to take those crafty Semitic talents and apply them to the ever-so-easily malleable space-time continuum?

Blammo! No more JFK. Creating a deep-seated hurt in the heart and meta-consciousness of the big-hearted American Public, an endless emptiness and yearning which eventually leads them to vote for Democrats with similar attributes in the future to fill the vacuum, such as Bill “Bubba” Clinton…and Barack Hussein Obama, the time-tripping foreigner mastermind of his own diabolical rise. It’s virtually indisputable!

3. Obama is not just an alien, he is an alien alien
This tantalizing theory effortlessly fuses the two previous ones by incorporating the federal government’s baloney weather-balloon wreck cover-up of the Roswell UFO crash. It was most recently surreptitiously reported by a peyote-tripping, former-hippie-now-Republican shaman, living on the outskirts of the New Mexico desert, who courageously bore telepathic witness to the interstellar accident on July 8th, 1947.

Accordingly, the extraterrestrial who piloted the craft was allegedly drunk on some higher evolved, out-of-this-world intoxicant and overshot his mark (just outside of Kendu Bay, Kenya where he was supposed to rendezvous with you-know-who’s pop pop–then 14 years old, a man by Kanyadhiang standards and fully in charge of his impending fate to discourage actual travel to the hunk of moon cheese at any cost).

Are you with me? Ok, so the Jews naturally were able to intercept him first, since (as everybody knows) they are the primary constituents of the all-powerful Illuminati and were alerted to this botched, haphazard, intergalactic first contact immediately through the secret rays they use to communicate with one another (which emanate from their hidden horns).

Now, while accidentally trying to feed their captive, sobered-up, space-traveling survivor, these Illuminati Jews soon learned of his severe revulsion to a particular dairy product (that they themselves don’t normally eat with red meat, but for the most part enjoy like the rest of us).

Systematically exploiting this weakness to their advantage, they were not only able to pry into his ulterior motives for visiting earth with their secret mind-rays–to re-establish communication with his long-lost otherworldly brethren who were placed on this earth in the distant past to shepherd and rule over all of humanity (AKA Nobama’s ancestors)–but gain the technological know-how to make time travel possible (which would be used at a later date in cahoots with an all too compliant Lee Harvey Oswald!).

However, what they didn’t bank on (pun intended) was for the alien entity to be so darn charming. After mere weeks of regaling them with tales of his celestial hijinks, they couldn’t stop fawning over him and eventually made him our de facto leader. Not really one for responsibility (he preferred boozing and getting high much like our most recent illegitimate, illiterate president) he eventually chose a little big-eared E.T. descendent (lacking a real U.S birth certificate) to be groomed as his heir for the future, letting humans fend for themselves from about 1981 to 2007 while he went on a massive bender. The rest is history.

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She’s no dead fishy, folks! Though many are questioning her status as a vertebrate due to her lack of spine shown by not finishing what she started in the Land of the Midnight Sun. No, this live barracuda refuses to go with the flow–the path of 99% of most successful, satisfied, self-actualized people on the planet…and expired sea bait, apparently. No Zen Buddhist bullsh*t is gonna keep her from not fulfilling her compact with the people of Alaska! She made a promise and she is bound by her shattered inner-compass not to keep it, by golly.

She’s not running away from concrete responsibilities and difficult decision-making, she is running towards her publishing deadline, major network pitch sessions and the fanatical love and adoration of her fractured fringe base sans the annoying albatross of things to do and accountability (outside of the meticulous maintenance of her trailer-trash-pedicured little piddies and shoppin for the perfect little mini to showcase her GILFY gams for her next inarticulate pressless-conference-backyard-block-party diatribe in Wasilla).

She is not a narcissist. She just has the good sense to realize she is better and more deserving than most people to rule the planet and prepare humanity for the end of days. No duh! It’s obvious to any uneducated, backwoods creationist patriot that she was forced to endure the humiliation of merely being runner-up Miss Alaska because the Holy One, blessed be he, had bigger plans for his latter-day prophetess of perjured platitudes. Have any you read the story of Job or Abraham? You can’t say she hasn’t paid penance for the greater good, people! Did you see the talent portion of the pageant? She was robbed! And getting back to the Good Book, unlike ole Abe she actually went through with sacrificing her little Bristol Lynn Spears on the altar. Never hesitated. So don’t you dare insinuate she lacks the get-up-and-gumption to actually follow through with anything.

Of course there are always the cynics and non-believers who insist that there is some devious underlying rationale for why she decided to release this bombshell of a story at the close-out of a news cycle on a holiday weekend (when most of the depressed populace had begun their bacchanal of binge drinking and consumption of high quantities of grill-charred, lard-filled, meat to numb their niggling concerns about mortgage foreclosures, gas prices, health care, the swine-flu pandemic, raging wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and that pesky impending threat of Nuclear Armageddon from our remaining arch-nemisi of the ole Axis of Evil trinity, and merely desired to sit on the couch like fat ticks and Tivo themselves out of existence until the pretty, multi-colored boom-boom lights appeared in the sky) but these faithless, jaded, naysayer heathens have obviously deadened themselves to the elevated spiritual concepts of synchronicity and serendipity. Everything isn’t always coldly calculated and planned out. Sometimes you just need to go with the fl–um …never mind.

And really, so what if there were other factors involved in her shot-gun resignation? There are many plausible pretexts as to why she exercised her freedom of choice to abort her governorship before it came to full term. Its not like she was hiking the Appalachian Trail with Governor Sanford after all (not his type). Perhaps she’s simply chosen this precious time to prepare for her inevitable 2012 presidential run by hunkering down and finally studying how to wink more effectively (and not like an epileptic who was recently exposed to a strobe light). Maybe she’s utilizing some of her rumored contractor kickbacks to renovate her porch so she can keep a better watch on those Russkies (c’mon, you all saw Rocky IV, they will stop at nothing to break us!). Perhaps she is plotting further retribution against her Late Night adversary David Letterman by finding more myriad ways to increase his ratings share. And has anyone even considered the possibility that she has gotten some insider info on the impending Rapture? Hello! Perhaps she is simply working with the First Dude and fam to single-handedly start re-populating the planet with the Chosen as fast as humanly possible (clandestinely meeting with Nadya Suleman for pointers) and getting a healthy head start on constructing an Ark big enough to hold all God’s creatures… and her Saks Fifth Avenue designer wardrobe (“Lose the platypuses, Todd, I’m not leaving my Jimmy Choos!”).

One thing is for sure: she is no quitter… not if you’re going by the non-dictionary definition of the word… which is… um… gotta go!

Like grandfather, like granddaughter, I guess. As it seems that 24-year-old Lydia Guevera is now taking up the revolutionary reins from her famous family patriarch. Is she waging war against U.S.-controlled conglomerates that have diabolically implanted puppet dictatorships and repressive regimes around the world? Helping those aging Castro hermanos get their hands on some brand spanking new thermonuclear-armed ballistic missiles to test the mettle of yet another U.S. prez in a life-or-death showdown, bringing us all to the brink of atomic annihilation? Desperately trying to drum up a Neo-Marxian revolution by teaching remedial guerilla-tactics classes to the natives in the deep, dark jungles of the Congo? Don’t bet your Batista!

Don’t get me wrong, she’s still serious about defending the rights of masses that have been forced into labor, their entire lives consumed by hungry capitalists who just see them as a meaningless multitudes of bodies and oh so much meat–they just happen to lack a cerebral cortex and prehensile thumbs! That’s right, folks, Lydia is taking the fight to the carnivorous powers that be by posing semi-nude for the latest PETA ad campaign. ¡VIVA LA REVOLUCION DE VEGETARIANS! Yesiree, the ole family legacy lives on as the Butcher of La Cabana’s bodacious petite-fille is out to butcher the butchers by showcasing her prime cuts.

And have no doubt that her titillating spread will become equal in notoriety as her revolutionary progenitor. Just look at the publicity still where she strikes the Guerillo Heroico pose (which graces the hats and t-shirts that so many disaffected over-privileged, upper-middle class white teenage suburbanites wear–not with any consciousness of its historical context or meaning, but because it looks so f*cking badass dude!). I mean the similarities are uncanny. Both look highly bangable in their sexy berets and bandoliers (only his is comprised of life-stopping bullets while hers is fashioned from organic baby carrots whose high concentration of vitamin A help maintain healthy retinas). One wonders if she’s also armed with extra-firm tofu grenades and a flax-seed thrower for when things get totally FUBAR.

I for one am totally stoked for the inevitable five-hour Steven Soderbergh biopic of this young woman’s harrowing struggle against sweetbreads and tripe. If I can only somehow manage to attain tickets to the gala premiere (fingers crossed!) I will most certainly doll myself up in my best pleather pants and hempen baja (and if it’s wet wintery day, my lush faux-fur-lined galoshes) to celebrate.

Enough is enough, Sarah. It’s over. You lost. Please get off my analog-wave-free television screen and fade to obscurity. Seriously, don’t you have an imminent Rapture to prepare for in the Land of the Midnight Sun, perhaps some freshly murdered moose stew simmering on the stove to stir or a pack of wolves to mow down from an Apache helicopter (aided by your trusty night-vision goggles and the shotgun you used to pressure backwoods lothario Levi Johnston into proposing matrimony to your defiled progeny–that is before the American public voted against you and you realized perhaps your cold-hearted political calculations were not in Bristol’s best interests).

Oh and there is always that state you’re supposed to be governing…what’s it called? Alaska. Remember, you’re the governor of Alaska! Sure it’s only 626,932 people (not nearly as many as even one paltry Nielson point representing those watching as you desperately try to keep your media- contrived feud with Letterman alive on the Today Show so you do not peter out from the public eye for a nanosecond) but they are kinda like depending on you and stuff. And perhaps if you spent more time out of the Big City and up on the tundra you wouldn’t have to filch your speeches from Newt Gingrich and you could learn to be the doting parent you pretend to be on the big screen (opportunistically dragging your brood in and out of the spotlight so your give-’em-hell soccer mom silhouette can be featured prominently in the periphery). You betcha!

You’re the joke and the punchline, a ratings ploy, a rejected reality-show pitch, a residual check for Tina Fey that she’ll use to treat herself to a carefree pampered day at the spa followed by a nice juicy porterhouse din- din at Peter Luger’s. The annoying non-gadfly on the pile of excrement calling itself the GOP base who’s only reason for existence is that no one can stomach the smell long enough to swat you.

No one takes you in earnest. You’re simply a side-show freak in the corner of the Republican tent that everyone points and titters at as you continue to bark and sell tickets to your own dwindling, embarrassing performances–ultimately destined to the fate of the sad, sodden, bedraggled bearded lady who’s been laid off by the circus. Sitting alone on a park bench, all hunched up and forlorn in a tattered terry-cloth robe and dirty pink bunny slippers, with her little grizzled granny goatee and soul patch, heroically feeding the pigeons on a paint-chipped bench…not a flame-breathing midget juggler or unicycling pink poodle in sight. Ba da da da da da da da da da… tears.

Please disappear.