Browns Coach Eric Mangini couldn’t hide his excitement, saying, “Look at her!Her base is so wide that she looks deformed.She looks like she could shit out an ambulance.With that frame she should single-handedly shore up our run defense!“

“Besides,” Mangini continued with a grin, “from all the scouting reports, she’ll gladly take on the double team.”

Capable of shitting an ambulance in a single dump.

So is signing a vapid, brain-dead celebutard just a publicity stunt?General Manager George Kokinis acknowledged that’s part of the reason.“Lots of bad teams do PR stunts this time of year,” Kokinis admitted, “Buffalo signed Terrell Owens; Cincy has Ochocinco.We’re so bad we can’t even start a trend, but at least we can follow one.Let’s face it, we’re in desperate need some attention, and what better way than to sign the biggest attention whore around?”

Kokinis defends his decision as more than just a desperate plea for headlines, though. “Look,” Kokinis explained, “Nobody ever bought a ticket to see Kim Kardassian do anything, and our fans certainly aren’t going to buy one to watch her play football.The Browns wouldn’t do this if we didn’t need a widebody in the middle.  However, we’re also performing a service.We’re employing her in a manner where she can keep her clothes on and she doesn’t have to speak.The world ought to be grateful on both counts.”

Though her resume in the football world is every bit as thin as her resume in Hollywood (and every bit as thin as she pretends to be via airbrushing), the Browns feel that they have a diamond in the rough. “We know she’s not afraid to do the dirty work,” indicated Defensive Line Coach Bryan Cox. “We’re hoping that her desperation will rub off on the rest of the locker room.”

When asked if having a woman on the team would cause problems in the locker room, Cox answered, “With all that cellulite, we’re not particularly concerned.But the trainers have stocked up on penicillin just in case.”

Originally posted 2009-08-11 13:07:47. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

The Hibernians are an ancient Irish-Catholic fraternal order whose members must show Irish-Catholic ancestry.  Gerry Doherty, the head of The Order and Grand Master of today’s parade, made the announcement from atop the reviewing stand.

“Today used to be a day for the Irish to celebrate.  It was a Holy Day spent feasting in tribute of Saint Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland,” Doherty began, “but now it’s an excuse for all you bastards who aren’t even Irish to pretend you are, by wearing green and getting drunk.  There’s more people who aren’t Irish here today then are.  And ya don’t have a clue why you’re here.  There’ll be a real St. Patrick’s feast for true Irishmen, but we’re claiming it back!  From this moment forward, today will belong to all you corporate toads, wannabee’s, and hangers on.  Today shall now be known as Saint Poseurs Day!  …And no true bloody Irishman would ever drink a green beer, you bastards!”

What's more Irish then a lowrider?

According to Doherty, manufacturers produce over 10 million gallons of green dye just for beer, with another 100 million gallons used to create green clothing, which non-Irish sheep annually hoard, then discard without caring a lick about the actual holiday they’re defiling.

Much like other traditionally Christian holidays such as Christmas, Valentine’s Day and Easter, it’s the corporate co-opting of the holiday that bothers the Hibernians every bit as much as  the ignorance of the celebrants.

The King doesn't care if you're Irish or not.

Out in the crowd, Bryan Downey, a half-Irish college student who has never been to Ireland and thinks Sinn Féin is a person, seemed most offended.   “Look at all these idiots,” he said adopting an obviously faked Irish brogue, “Most of ‘em don’t have a drop o’ Irish in ‘em.  They couldn’t tell the difference between the Ulster Unionists and the IRA if they sat down and drank a pint o’ Guinness with ‘em.” He omitted the fact that he, himself, couldn’t really tell either.

Despite their green garb, most parade-goers actually appeared even less Irish then Downey.  However, while they lacked any Gaelic or Celtic heritage, they still dyed their hair, drank alcohol, ate lots of food, celebrated all things green, and worst of all, they genuinely appeared to enjoy themselves regardless of their origins.  Many seemed unaware that the name of the party had changed.

When asked about the name change, Juana van Park, a visibly intoxicated parade-goer proudly wearing a t-shirt reading “Kiss me, I’m Irish.  Or drunk.  Or whatever,” told reporters, “I’m not Irish or even Jewish – they’re Jewish in Ireland, right? – But that’s OK.  I really love U2.  They’re so cute.  I just love them.  Sunday, Bloody Sunday!  Sunday, Bloody Sunday!”

They know nothing - and they like bad music.

The fact that U2 are an overrated bunch of Clash-wannabe’s (and The Clash are bloody English!), and that Thin Lizzy is a far superior band went over her empty head.  When informed that she was singing a protest song, she answered, “It is?  Oh, well,” and then staggered away mumbling something about drinking another car bomb and then buying a fez hat.

Originally posted 2009-03-16 21:09:28. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Yes, my name really is Poindexter.

HAMPTON, VA – The eagerly awaited reunion of the band Phish became a bad trip for many fans last night, as police made 194 arrests and confiscated around $1.2 million in illegal drugs.  In addition, $68,000 in cash was confiscated.

The newly re-united Phish, a so-called jam-band, played their first concerts in five years this weekend, and played approximately two songs.  It is estimated that the three concerts were seen by 75,000 fans, about four of which will remember the show.

Hookers In Front, Dogs In The Rear

Boss Dogg

“This is a total bummer, man. Like, wow,” said self-described Phish-head Stoney Crust. “They were, like, laying into this totally crunch groove, and my bro was scoring some ‘shrooms [psychotropic mushrooms], and next thing you know, wow! The Man is totally oppressing us! It’s all a total Nazi-fascist drag, man.”

While police did indicate that most of the arrests happened peacefully, they apparently had to taze several concertgoers whose hallucinations were sufficiently powerful that they were only semi-aware, at best, of being arrested. All detainees were booked and promptly released after being forced to launder their clothes, delouse and to “take a freakin’ shower for the love of Christ,” according to police.

“This is a banner day for law-enforcement,” said prosecutor Gerald Poindexter at a press conference this morning.“Over a million dollars worth of illegal drugs, removed from the street. A banner day.”

Outside the courtroom after the press conference, Poindexter was overheard making plans to use the seized contraband in a lavish party.

“Whoo boy! Jackpot! We goin’ to Mike’s, and we goin’ have a good time! Sooy!” he said into his cell phone either unaware or uncaring that the press corps could hear him.

“Mike’s,” apparently is the estate of Michael Vick, whose sentence was recently reduced from prison to house arrest after a conviction on federal dog-fighting charges. Poindexter was the prosecutor for the State of Virginia who chose not to pursue state-level charges against Vick despite his admission of guilt under oath in Federal Court. He is now responsible for monitoring Vick’s house-arrest.

“We goin’ out to Bad Newz” (Vick’s estate) “with this [stuff], and we gonna party like rock stars! Eh, Jethro!” continued Poindexter, “Call all the boys – we got enough for the whole force!”

Poindexter spent the next several minutes making detailed plans with his friends on the details of the party, which he described several times as a reward for a job well done. He indicated that the concert was a deliberate set-up, and that he fully expected that “the dirty hippies” would flock to the area, bringing large quantities of illegal drugs with them.

He further went on to elaborate that the entire reason for allowing the concert was so that his officers could confiscate the substances for their own recreational use. The concertgoers, Poindexter felt, “would never know what hit them,” and were “too drug addled and stupid to ever figure it out.”

Poindexter concluded the call by saying “we gonna trip balls, [have sex with] some hookers, and kill some dogs. Or maybe [have sex with] the dogs and kill the whores. Who cares! It’s party time!”

Originally posted 2009-03-10 20:06:30. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Don't cry for Owens. Cry for the future.

ALEXANDER CITY, Ala. – Recently fired wide receiver Terrell Owens announced his retirement from the National Football League at a press conference today.  Owens, 35, probably has the ability to continue his football career, but as of yet, no NFL team has expressed interest in signing him – primarily because he is a douchbag.

Within 24 hours of his release, 16 teams had gone on record stating they had no plans to hire Owens.  Instead, he now plans to open an academy where he will teach young players how to act.  The school, tentatively called The Ego Academy for the Attention Deprived (EgAAD), expects to open full time next winter, but a limited curriculum will be available this summer.

“Get your popcorn ready,” said Owens. “If you loved me – and I know I loves me some me – then you’ll love this.  I’m giving something back.  This will allow an entire generation of future players to put themselves in front of their teams.”

Classes will include:

·         Destroying team chemistry from the inside

·         Teammate alienation (with a special focus on quarterbacks)

·         Delusions of grandeur

·         Stars, jackets, cell phones and sit-ups – taunting with props

·         Finding your inner selfishness

·         Cultivating your overall diva persona

·         How to get fired 3 times in 6 years

Owens will be just one of many famous faculty at EgAAD.  He has already appointed Dennis Rodman as Dean of Students and will teach a class called Substituting Spectacle for Talent – How to Age Disgracefully.  Joe Horn has contracted to teach several classes.  Tentatively, Sean Avery, Drew Rosenhaus and Chad Johnson are expected to receive professor emeritus status in exchange for guest lecture appearances.  Lastly, Owens indicated that none other than the Queen of Soul herself, Aretha Franklin, has been hired as a wardrobe consultant specializing in gaudy hats.

Another former Wide Receiver, Hall Of Famer Michael Irvin, seemed eager to help.  “I could teach a lot of things,” said Irvin, “Stabbing your teammates with scissors…  where to buy blow within a block of a courtroom…  the list goes on.”

“I’m tremendously excited about this next phase of Terrells life,” said agent Drew Rosenhaus.  “This is the biggest thing to ever happen to football, and I’m proud to be a part of it.  We’ve tried to line up the very best faculty possible.  Not everyone makes the cut.  Just as one example, we reached out to Paris Hilton to teach a class on inner selfishness, but ultimately didn’t make an offer, as she’s not capable of actually communicating.  Not even by accident.  I did get to score with her, though – not that it took much effort.”

Rosenhaus also indicated that Owens considered reaching out to Madonna to teach the diva class, but ultimately decided to hire someone relevant to current pop culture.  Allegedly, an offer has instead been made to comedian Carrot Top.  When asked to confirm this, Rosenhaus answered, “next question.”

When asked for comment, NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell said, “The NFL very fortunate that Mr. Owens has never succeeded at anything in life.  If he were to pull this off, our TV ratings would be as bad as regular season college basketball.”

Originally posted 2009-03-06 11:12:48. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Al-Queda second-in-command Ayman Al-Zawahiri condemned American support of the Israeli attacks – despite no such support from the White House – official or otherwise.  In a radio address,Al-Zawahiri said that Obama fulfilled, “…the words of Malcom X concerning House Negros…” and went on to further insult the new president by calling him a “dishonorable black.”

When asked why he directed his outrage at America, Al-Zawahiri became visibly irate.  “Hit the Zionists and Crusaders wherever and in whatever way you can!  Allahu Akbar!” Al-Zawahiri then excused himself from taking further questions, citing a doubles tennis match between him and Osama Bin Laden vs. his stockbroker and an up-and-coming Hollywood entertainment lawyer.

Representatives from the Israeli embassy were unavailable for comment, as they were all at a local synagogue partaking in a bagels and lox brunch function.

Here in America, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi refused to condemn the insults to the new President, saying that “America must be a light to the world, not just a missile.”  Exactly what that had to do with either the Israeli attacks on Gaza or the Arab protests remains unclear.  When asked to explain, she again attempted to go on the offensive by saying “protecting America from terrorism requires more than just resolve, it requires a plan. As we have seen in Iraq, planning is not the Bush Administration’s strong suit.”

Whether or not she is aware that Mr. Bush is no longer President also remains unclear at this time.

Obama - a light to the Muslim world, or just another off-white devil?

Reaction in America ranged from shocked to confused.  Moonmuffin Kliebold-Harris, a sociology major at the University of Vermont, seemed particularly puzzled.  In a recent National Public Radio person-on-the-street interview, she cried, “But we elected Obama!  That’s supposed to show we care about them.  My political science professor said that Obama said that if we were nice to them, that they’d stop hating us. Why do they still hate us?  Why, why, why?”

Jerry Sandusky, an unemployed autoworker from Flint, MI, had similar sentiments.  “Obama promised us change,” he said, “but those darned Arabs haven’t changed at all.”

On behalf of President Obama, White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs insisted that the jihadists need “empathy.”  He cautioned that should their unchecked aggression continue, President Obama might be forced to shake his fist and speak in harsh tones.  If that fails, Gibbs warned, Obama might even have to resort to giving all of Islam a great big, collective hug.  In response, the jihadists ran over Obamas picture with a car.

Originally posted 2009-02-04 20:32:47. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Ferguson identified the celebrity in question as “That Guy – you know – he was in that movie with That Blond Chick and That Fat Guy – the one where all the stuff blows up.”  Ferguson observed “That Guy” walking through Terminal 3, presumably en route to a gate where he might then board an airplane.  Additionally, Ferguson fantasized about That Guy traveling to an exotic destination and doing a multitude of fabulous and interesting things, the likes of which mere commoners can only daydream.  The idea that someone of That Guy’s stature might fly coach on a puddle jumper back to Shreveport, La. to visit his maternal aunt in an obligatory, banal weekend never occurred to Ferguson.

Who is That Guy? Is it Clint Eastwood? Maybe Fred Dryer? Maybe Kelsey Grammar? If you watched That Movie Where Stuff Blows Up, you'd know.

The Chicago Investigative Bureau assigned Examiner Nick Sherlock to the case.  Sherlock promptly uncovered several inconsistencies in the reported sighting.

“First of all, we have no physical evidence here,” he began, “no footprint, no Fritos™ bag, no DNA samples, hair follicles, nothing.  Not even a latent fingerprint from a casually discarded latte cup.  Ferguson didn’t even get a cheap, low-grade cell phone picture.”

In response, Ferguson indicated, “I really did see him.  I couldn’t believe it!  It was so exciting!  But I didn’t want to, you know, stalk the guy or anything.”

Sherlock additionally questioned numerous inconsistencies in the story.  Chiefly, he challenged the idea that despite the crowded airport, not a single other soul has collaborated the sighting of “That Guy.” Also, vital details remained incomplete; Ferguson could not identify the brand of shirt, cologne, hairstyle, or other earth-shattering information that everyone absolutely must know.  Disappointingly, he described the shoes as “nice… brown loafers.”  Not only that, he didn’t even follow That Guy to his gate so that he could blab That Guy’s destination to all the other voyeurs.

Sherlock then consulted noted Psychologist Clancy Bertram, of the Chicago Psychology Institute.  Bertram indicated that celebrity observation is a common phenomenon amongst the bored and the generally pathetic.  “Many people lack fulfillment in their own lives,” he began, “so they use celebrities as a fantasy world into which they escape.  These people are generally just too lazy to get a life for themselves.  Instead, they immerse themselves in the likes of ‘People’ magazine and obsess over its contents.  Even a simple idea like getting a hobby is too much effort when they can be spoon-fed a different disposable flavor each issue.”

Bertram continued, “We must consider the distinct possibility that the patient imagined the entire sighting.  Perhaps he just saw someone who looked like a celebrity?  Perhaps he has some deep-seated issue with his mother?  Irrational behavior like this could harbor a manifestation of deeply rooted psychological trauma.”

However, Bertram does not believe this to be the case.  “Most likely,” he concluded, “this imagined connection with someone famous could be an attempt to somehow indirectly raise him up from the muck of humanity and elevate himself above his peers in their eyes.  Next thing you know, he’ll be seeing Elvis.   Or perhaps Bigfoot?  If only he would just read a book or maybe even try bowling instead – but then I wouldn’t be able to charge these exorbitant fees.”

Ferguson’s excitement would not diminish.  “I can’t wait to tell all my coworkers all about how I saw That Guy,” he exclaimed.  “Last year, Bob from Finance said he saw That Talk Show Host having an ice cream at a café on Wacker Drive, but this is even better.  This is at an airport!”

Meanwhile, in an undisclosed suburb outside Chicago, Ferguson‘s friend Maury Slocumb took off his “That Guy” Halloween costume and laughed about wearing it through O’Hare airport.

Originally posted 2009-11-19 18:52:36. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

When asked to comment, God declined an interview, and instead chose to communicate His Message directly to the writer via divine inspiration. This is The Word of God:

“Don’t get fooled by Kurt’s understatement. Every five minutes, he’s in my ear! Between him and every other evangelist, I never have any time to get anything done around here.

“Ever wonder what I do after that 7th day – when I rest? I sit around all day and listen to people begging for every petty little triviality they can think of. Is it really MY problem who wins a football game? Thank ME that at least John Kitna’s done for the season. That alone gives me enough free time that at least I can work in the occasional game of squash.

“I’d love to do something about The Middle East, but I can’t get a spare minute, what with all the requests to win. Does Kurt think his prayers are more powerful then Troy Polomalu’s? It’s gotten bad enough that I’m tempted to send the Archangel Michael – you know, the protector of the Earth – back down to personally visit Kurt and tell him to please, for the love of Me, just give it a rest already. Have you forgotten my words that quickly? In Matthew 6:5-6, I said:

“I hate to admit this, but if you want to win a Super Bowl, you’re really better off going down to Lucifer for help. He’s a much bigger sports fan then I am. Truth be told, he’s been known to meddle in the game sometimes, too. Just ask Deion Sanders.

Although Kurt Warner apparently has a hotline to the Lord, he is apparently considered a prank caller.

“And while we’re on the subject, everybody wants to ask about the weather problems down in Hades (Of course I know that you want to ask – I’m God, I know all, remember?) It’s frozen. Yeah, I know. Yeah, I’m laughing about it. They’re laughing about it down there, too. They call it “Rest Break.” It actually happens more than you might think.

“It happened last October, when The Phillies won The Series. It happened on Election Day. It happened when another car dealer really did beat the unbeatable prices of James Chevrolet in Bala Cynwyd, PA. It’s not really as uncommon as you might think.

“Give Kurt credit, though. I deliberately gave him that wife, Brenda, as a test. I wanted to see how strong his faith was, and putting up with her, well, let’s just say that even Job would have struggled with such an ordeal. Kurt got his earthly rewards for that in 1999, though.

“I intended that to suffice until I resurrect him on the last day. If you want the truth, none of this is actually My Plan. In all honesty (like I’d lie!), I was sitting in on a jam with the Pearly Gates House Band; most of it anyway. It’s a little known fact that I love playing the sax. Jim Morrison, Cliff Burton, and John Bonham were there, but Jimi Hendrix was playing golf, so Stevie Ray Vaughan filled in on guitar for him.

“They were working on showing Billy Powell the songs.  We finally got a keyboard player. Anyway, we were all grooving to this righteous jam, all the while tripping balls on this killer hash I made when Kurt started praying again. I was so wasted – and believe me, it takes a LOT to get me wasted – that I forgot Kurt wasn’t on the Rams anymore. So I granted his prayer, made the ref ignore the pass interference at the end of the Eagles game, and now look at this mess.”

### end of transcript ###

Originally posted 2009-01-30 16:06:20. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

“We have a firefighter with us over here today.  Let me, if I can, just interrupt for one second.  Now, let everybody look at you.  This is Jesse Graves, everybody, and he’s here fighting the blaze.  What a piece of man candy he is, right?  Can we get a quick word with you Jesse?”

GRAVES: “Uh, I’m kinda busy with this hose.”

ROKER: “We’ll try to get back to Jesse.  Maybe in the meantime, we can show you the hose.  Wait ‘till you see what comes out of there.  Water!  High pressure water just shooting all over that house.  Doesn’t it look like a giant spray can of whipped cream shooting all over a strawberry-rhubarb pie?  And who doesn’t like pie?  I know I could go for a nice slice of pie just as soon as I’m done here.  Maybe two!

“Wait.  What’s this?  I’m told we have the owner of the house available to speak with us over here.

“This is Vernon Pike, everybody, and he owns the house which they’re currently dousing with large amounts of water.  I guess the first question everybody has, Vernon, is how does it feel, having your house burn down in the wildfires?”

PIKE: “It’s a terrible feeling, Al.”

ROKER: “Terrible?”

PIKE:  “Yup.”

ROKER: “Uh, You have insurance, though, right?”

PIKE: “Nope.  Insurance comp’ny’s ‘r jest evil.  I don’t do business with ‘em.  Profit-mongers.”

ROKER: “So, Vernon, what are you going to do?”

PIKE: “I got me a truck an’ some salt pork an’ a rifle.  I’m gonna be OK.”

ROKER: “There you have it, folks.  A real, honest, man’s man.  But I have to ask, Vernon, what are you doing here?  The government issued an evacuation order.  Why didn’t you evacuate with all your neighbors?”

PIKE: “No gub’ment gonna tell me where to go.  Way I reckon it, if’n I leave, Obama’ll just take my house while I’m gone.  I ain’t exactly figured out how, but he’d do it if’n you give him half a minute.  He’d just take my house and give it to some border-jumper, let him.  And probably ain’t got no job at that.  All them gub’ment folks are all sneaky like that.  Watch ‘em.  Gub’ment prob’ly set these here fires just to clear out some decent honest folk an’ steal their land from ‘em.”

ROKER:  “That’s the longest speech you’ve ever given in your life, isn’t it?”

PIKE:  [spits]

ROKER: “None of us can worry about that, though, because it’s not something we can control.  What we can control is what we do in each of our own hometowns.  To that end, that’s what’s going on in the country, now here’s what’s happening in your neck of the woods.”

Originally posted 2009-09-15 19:52:05. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

According to the disputed official reports, the dog’s owner claims that the fawn sneaked into his backyard and rushed the barking dog, named Bobby-Lee.  William Hill, the owner, hollered and reached for his shotgun to fend off the attacking deer.  The weapon failed to discharge, apparently due to Hill’s “forgetting to release the safety in all that excitement,” and the deer proceeded to trample the dog, killing it.

Bobby-Lee, shortly after the attack.

At that point Hill called the police, who referred the matter to the Kentucky Department of Natural Resources, Fishin’, Huntin’ & Killin’ (KDNRFHK).  KDNRFHK Conservation Officer G. Thaxton Showalter says the attack “was an isolated incident.  This sorta thing is rare.  It ain’t likely gonna happen again.”  He further restated the claim that the doe probably showed hostility to protect its newborn fawn.

However, further investigation revealed holes in the story.  Deer tend to give birth in April and May.  By June, a fawn would no longer be newborn and would likely not require that level of protection from its mother.  Also, an anonymous tip revealed that the safety could not have been released as the shotgun, a Springfield M6 Scout, does not have a safety in the first place.

So what caused the deer to attack?  Why is the Kentucky Government covering it up?  Since when does a Kentuckian not know how to fire a shotgun?

In truth, as it turns out, Bobby-Lee could talk.  Such a shocking development seems unbelievable at first, yet now it can be revealed that the dog either escaped or possibly was stolen from a top secret Government installation at Fort Campbell, where a nameless, ultra-secret government agency breeds literate dogs for espionage purposes.

Since when does a Kentuckian not no how to fire a shotgun?

It all went wrong in this case because Bobby-Lee learned his vocabulary in the Hill double-wide instead of at Fort Campbell.  The Hills are a much lower-class breed then Bobby-Lee.  Ignorantly, they raised the pup on a steady diet of COPS, Jackass, The View and Entertainment Tonight, stunting its poor mind and reinforcing substandard behavior patterns.  Allegedly, Bobby-Lee even lapped Schlitz™ Beer from his water bowl and could be found gazing at the cover of People™ magazine, as if he could read.  Despite such obstacles, Bobby-Lee still learned to speak, but grew up into a full-grown (but hardly mature) Gossip Hound.  Other dogs in the program could both speak and read, but neither of the Hill’s possessed the literacy to teach Bobby-Lee any reading skills.  Typical for the sort of failures who watch such trash TV, Bobby-Lee had nothing of value to say, and never learned how to just shut the hell up already.

Perhaps William Hill and his old lady didn’t know any better than to constantly have that crap on TV all the time?  The doe, however, certainly knew better.  With the help of an expert tracker, this reporter traced the deer’s path deep into the Daniel Boone National Forest, where the deer once crossed paths with Chuck Norris.  Apparently inspired by the brief encounter, she became born-again hard-core.  Given the circumstances, it’s easy to understand why she wouldn’t tolerate any such crap from Bobby-Lee and instead opted, through sheer savage badassery, to establish a permanent solution to the problem.

Poor Bobby-Lee never stood a chance against the Norris protégé.  The dog proved all bark, no bite.

The Deer was profoundly influenced by Chuck Norris - and his dentist.

When asked to comment, the deer chose not to speak.  Likely, it not only can’t speak, but learned from Chuck Norris that actions speak louder than words.  Instead of commenting, she planted a well-placed hoof in the backside of the reporter for being so stupid as to ask a deer to talk in the first place.

Representatives for Fort Campbell, the United States Army, the Kentucky State Police, and the KDNRFHK declined all knowledge of talking animals.

Originally posted 2009-06-19 13:23:15. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

The employee remains anonymous, but Joseph Marchese, a spokesperson for CMBT, confirmed they found a body and that it is believed to be Hoffa.

Teamster President Jimmy Hoffa Gets The Concrete Shoes

“People were complaining about the smell for years,” Marchese explained. “Finally, the new manager told an intern to clean up the detritus of his lazy coworkers. You have to admire the kid’s diligence. He actually rolled up his sleeves and tried to do it.”

Marchese remained vague about exactly how long it had been since the refrigerator – located in the Accounting Department – had been cleaned, explaining that the firm would not know until the results of the carbon-dating came back from a local lab. Other sources, however, were willing to comment anonymously.

“I watched the kid work,” said a woman in Accounting, “he spent hours digging stuff out of there. He even threw out the ‘mystery pack.’”

“It was like peeling back a time capsule,” said another employee, “I know I saw a can of Fresca™ and an ‘Alf™’ lunchbox in there a few weeks ago. I think he actually discovered the body behind some I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter™ and a bag of leftover Arthur Treachers Fish and Chips™.”

An internal memo leaked by a source in Human Resources indicated that absenteeism in that area was 74% higher than in the rest of the Accounting Department. Several employees indicated that the stench permeated the cubicles throughout the area. Apparently, for years the funk had affected the taste of any food placed inside. One employee said that the rot actually left a rough texture on the walls in the kitchen area. Another employee simply stated that “Scooby Doo woudn’t even eat any of the crap left in there.”

The Mystery Pack, part of the detritus of his lazy coworkers.

Many theories abound as to what happened to Hoffa. For years, many believed that mobster “Mad Dog” Sullivan sealed him in an oil drum and buried him in Giants Stadium in New Jersey. In 1997, DNA evidence even placed Hoffa in the vehicle of long-time Teamster associate Charles “Chuckie” O’Brien. However, no indictments ever came from this, apparently because the DA’s six-year-old son asked why O’Brien – or anyone else – would drive from Michigan to New Jersey with the body rather than disposing of it locally.

Rumors that the DA’s son and the intern who cleaned the refrigerator are the same person are unsubstantiated at this time.

So how did Hoffa end up in the CMBT refrigerator? Perhaps that mystery will replace that of his disappearance. Clearly, whoever thought that “nobody will ever look in there” was right.

Originally posted 2009-09-24 13:54:58. Republished by Blog Post Promoter