OP-ED: I Thought Muhammad Ali Was Already Dead (?) But Anyway, R.I.P.

  Cassius Marcellus Clay, Jr., known to hardcore boxing fans as Muhammad Ali, passed away on June 3rd, 2016, due to septic shock whilst battling a respiratory illness for which he had been hospitalized the previous day. He left behind a staggering, intimidating, and glorious legacy and is survived by his wife, Yolanda Williams, among other people who are not dead.

  Now, I don’t know if I’m alone on this, but I was under the impression that this very event had already occurred sometime in our nation’s past and we had grieved and moved on from it; a feeling of déjà vu, as many people say, washed over me on the afternoon of June 5th when I discovered this news – because I don’t keep up-to-date in a vigorous fashion. ‘Huh,’ I thought. But I nevertheless conformed to the collective shock and pain of our country’s many generations that Ali’s legacy has spanned.

  I’m not the biggest boxing fan in the world but I was 87 percent certain that Mr. Ali had perished years prior to June 3rd, 2016. For one reason or another, the date March 12th, 2004, comes to mind. But researching that date left me empty handed. I remain befuddled by this hysteria surrounding the passing of a man who, to me, had already shadowboxed his way through the gates of heaven and into the history books as a mere fading memory for us to idealize, mythologize, and lie about.

  Ever since I was a small child I was under the impression that boxers died young and tragically – usually from boxing-related afflictions like alcoholism and mafia-fixes-gone-awry. But perhaps that rule only applies to the breed of dog. ‘Huh,’ I thought again. But I ignored the thought and instead focused my attention on talking extensively with the millions of other hardcore boxing fans around this great nation – who knew there were so many? – about the formerly living legend that was Muhammad Ali. He was a great man and now he joins Mike Tyson and other sports icons on the fluffy, pillowy cloud furniture of the heavenly fortress in our blue American sky.

A Letter To Heaven - For Nancy Reagan

  My condolences to the Reagan family and to you, Nancy, for you will probably not join Ron in the afterlife...

  It makes sense to me that you want to. You're scheming to somehow make it into Hell, break him out of the chamber he's kept in, which, as you know, is made of some unholy metalloid, then leave without losing your damn mind, soul or blockbuster card LOL (that last part was a joke, unless Heaven has a blockbuster[?]).

  But then you have to weigh your case before a council as to why you think his entry is worthy. But I can tell you there are three solid reasons he won't be allowed in:

6. Ronald
6. Wilson
6. Reagan

  He's, no doubt, in Hell. He was one of the worst human-beings to ever live. So you have a choice, Nance: You sacrifice your own place in Heaven for Ron, or you stay there among the angels and welcome your children the day they arrive.

This is silly, I know. You won't read this whole thing. Or you will, a Reagan never gives up!

OP-ED: Human Privilege And The Bias Against Dog Actors

  Top Left: a rottweiler in Don't Breathe, Top Right: a german shepherd in Desierto, Bottom Center: a pit bull in Green Room

All movies released/being released this year, all movies that feature dogs, of varied breeds, all marginalised as obedient killers.

  We need a movie like a Cujo reboot where an independent killer dog that don't need no man kills indiscriminately, without human commands (albeit due to a bite from a rabid bat)! Thankfully, the wolves in Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping manage to become unleashed and, interestingly enough, kill a man named Seal. That's very interesting.

  I'm sure everyone remembers the original Independence Day and how could we forget the scene in the tunnel where the fireball destroys everything but, AT THE LAST MINUTE, the dog narrowly escapes! He jumps clear out of the way!! Well, Independence Day was directed by Rolland Emmerich, who would go on to direct The Day After Tomorrow and 2012; two movies that also feature dogs narrowly escaping danger. The one movie in Emmerich's Disaster Porn saga to not feature a dog's struggle with fight-or-flight is his 1998 Godzilla remake with Matthew Broderick. What does 'Godzilla' become when you hold it against a mirror?

ALL IZ DOG

  So with a new Independence Day movie imminent, it got me thinking. Other animals get to have their own adventures: just look at the mayhem a cat causes in the new comedy, Keanu. And let's not forget the absurd society of Zootopia and the talking beasts in The Jungle Book who spar over, of all things, a human boy!

  Then we have the shapeshifting raven and Black Philip the goat in The VVitch. Worse yet: the two men posing as animals in Captain America: Civil War, 'Black Panther' and 'Falcon' (neither had me fooled). The most egregious is The Lobster, a movie about how, in the future, man becomes an animal of their choosing if they don't find a mate in 45 days - human privilege if I've ever seen it. Don't even get me started on Tarzan. This is the year that Dogs can change things! Please show this post to any dog you know!!

  The Secret Life Of Pets comes out July 8th, we'll see how problematic that one is.

Area Woman's Weekend-Planning Interrupted By Unexpected Orgasm

   Katelyn Gould, 34, was faced with an impending two days off work - she liked to think of it as two and a half because she was able to stay up as long as she would like on Friday night, even though she never did. To prepare, as usual, she indulged in a routine mental inventory of all her friends' and siblings' plans that she had been keeping track of over the course of that week and those preceding it. She was hoping to organize a social affair for herself and her girlfriends; something different maybe, she thought, unlike the past weekends, which were spent scouring the local dives and hopping from one bar to another and then perhaps one of the party's apartments. It hadn't necessarily been a long week, but work was work and so the banality, alone, had left in want of some well-meaning fun.

   Beginning with Saturday afternoon, she allocated specific hours to specific potential events that she had heard about at work and on Facebook. There were some new movies coming out that she wanted to see, but that felt as though it would be better suited for Saturday night or even the night previous. Typically, she spent her Saturday nights intoxicating herself in some unexciting social setting, and she wondered if there were any such places around town that she had not intoxicated herself in before. But it was then that she began to feel a tingling in her lower extremities; she even experienced shortness of breath. Such phenomena were uncommon and so her confusion was justified. Involuntary grumbles and utterances escaped her mouth as she began to blink rapidly and the tingling sensations intensified and spread.

   In a state of what could only be described as panic she began to grab at and clutch her surroundings while the sweaty heap of flesh mounted atop her continued its redundant motions. The struggle lasted for what they perceived in their illusory fog of sexual oblivion to be hours passing but was actually only a mere few minutes. They then simultaneously clenched their bodies' muscles, succumbed to a heightened state of euphoria, complimented by an intense spasm of sensory tissue in their respective midsections that her male counterpart was more familiar with than she, and abruptly relaxed into an exhausted slump.

OP-ED: Idiot Baby Immune To Mommy's Airplane Spoon

  No matter how much blblblblblbbl she might do with her lips to mimick the language of an airplane propellor or soar her spoon-holding hand across the kitchen, Sarah Brownspot cannot get her 4-month old toddler to eat in a fun and playful way.

  It eats when fed normally. Which is fine, it needs nourishment. But it doesn't eat when she does the airplane.

  Why, I wonder?

  Babies the world over respond to that kind of thing; airplane delivery straight to their toothless gums. But this baby clearly doesn't understand the concept and, frankly, I feel bad for it. Will it ever understand anything?

  It's clearly not blind because I watched it follow some fuzz and then giggle at some stupid shit. It also isn't deaf because I waited for it to fall asleep then shouted "PISSKIDNEY" and it woke up.

  So why is this fucking nuisance with the appeal of a ferret playing dumb? Does it have something against planes? I onvinced the mother to test it. Instead of a plane, try a train. If that doesn't work, then it just likes to eat normally with no silliness and has no automotive bias.

  Low and behold, it ate just fine when a "choo-choo, chuggachuggachugga" came rolling into its mouth station.

  Clearly, planes are not on this baby's agenda. Future terrorist if I ever saw one.

Search For Sock Takes Up Whole Saturday

 

Scott Barn had plans for last night's big WingFestiValooza at McBrogan's Irish Pub, but he missed it on account of his missing left sock.

  "Well my whole Saturday was eaten up looking for that damn thing." Barn told us through his bathroom door.

  "Was it worth it? Well is anything worth anything? I mean...I have the right one. So the other one is near. I know it. If I didn't have either I would just wear another pair because they're missing together. But one has to be close to the other. My search radius is pretty limited. And I've been looking on and off since about 8:00 am"

Meaning he searched in just one spot for a good 17 hours.

"Yeah, pretty much spent my Saturday. Never wanna do it again. I will keep all socks taped together so if a pair goes missing, a pair goes missing. Enough. I blame my Dad. My name is Scott Andrea Barn, so...think about that shit. Gives me some girly middle name and makes me feel inadequate. Right?"

No comment. We are reporters, not therapists. "What's your name? Huh? Did your Daddy leave you but take your brother? I mean, why split up a pair? And his name is Henry Randall Barn. That's a beefy name like Chunky's Beef Stew with the football players, ya know? I bet he hasn't wasted a single Saturday and gets to eat any kind of soup he wants! I'm not chunky. In fact, I have a reputation of being the exact opposite of chunky. Whatever."

Mr. Barn never found his xxl sock and made sure we reported it was xxl,

  "Like the Magic Mike sequel. Lots of chunk," he just wore another pair and has plans for next Saturday.

North Korea to Remake Seinfeld

   

  North Korea has been prolific for its hubble-blumbers and its skimpy-skamps. We're all acutely aware.

  But what we weren't aware of until our Foreign Correspondent Shelly Dent reported to us recently from inside North Korea is that Kim Jong-Un has filmed four episodes of a North Korean Seinfeld. The Leader has no new scripts apparently, he just has actors reenact four episodes (at random or his favorites?) for broadcast.

  The only change to the characters is "No Newman" and the "Soup Nazi" has been changed to "Soup Capitalist American Pig".

 The live audience of about 200 is held at carefully watchful gunpoint. Shelly Dent witnessed that every joke, said by actors stilted from fear (which is no excuse), has the audience laugh in unison with one big "HA". If anyone laughs out of sequence, they are given a warning shot. If they continue to laugh, their entire bloodline is massacred.

"No laugh track to be used on my show, I want real authentic emotion. I want people to hear North Korea having a good time" the Leader said of his show's dastardly approach.

Netflix to pick up the series' revival in 2016