Okay, if you’re a history geek like Mark, then you’ll enjoy this. Did you know that in the 19th century, there were lots of psychotropic…
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Welcome to The Carnival of Satire. We thought we’d try something a little different this week: presenting the satire in the order that it arrived in our mailbox. Except for our top two picks and the clean-up spot, everything is presented in the order that it arrived.
Top satire picks:
Ahistoricality brings us RJ Eskow: Vicious Liberals Disgrace America – With Shameless Media Support.
Don Surber imagines The quagmire at Yankee Stadium.
Astonishing satirical convergences:
This week’s episode of The Peace Moonbeam Chronicles has both ninjas and cocks! Check out, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Moron.
Hazel had news that NASA plans to Build a Litterbox for International Space Station posted at Catnabbit!. We’re not sure, but the accompanying video may need to be investigated by the ASPCA.
Historical atrocities abound in Robert J Parker’s unveiling of April Foolsday, The Real Story. Warning: this story has may cause shaggy-dog-itis!
SnoopyTheGoon has one from the “modest suggestion” files in: Political aspiration of pedophiles. We’re sensing more problems with the ASPCA.
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It was 6/6/06 and Betty had decided to celebrate the portentous date with her sinfully good butternut brownies.
Everyone would love them. Just last week, there was practically a riot when she brought her insanely delicious zucchini cake.
Bob, the loud-talking, halitosis sufferer, had barely been able to keep his nicotine-stained fingers off them. “Somebody should really tell Bob about that breath problem,” Betty thought as she walked into the Super-Happy Gigantic Office Complex.
Birds were singing, and a clear blue sky belied the devilish nature of the day’s date. She had her annual performance review scheduled for later in the morning, but she wasn’t worried about that either.
She walked through the doors to the cubicle farm — about twenty minutes late, but no later than usual for her — and announced: “I have bakies!”
A collective groan emanated from the veal-fattening pens. Her co-workers were such kidders!
“I’m putting them in the break room!” she threatened.
Nobody moved, and Betty said, with more of an edge than she intended: “They’re sinfully good butternut brownies, and I spent several hours making enough for everyone.”
Pallid office-workers prairie-dogged over the tops of their cubicles, and looked at one another. An unspoken agreement. They trooped off to the break room, where Betty was already slicing up the brownies.
“They’re sinful,” she said. “Sinful, get it? It’s 666 today!” She giggled insanely.
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