Sen. Sanders’ Filibuster to Obama: Put the kitchen sink back!

"Yes, the kitchen sink too!"

Washington, D.C. --


Outgoing Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi (D) and Senator Bernie Sanders (I) took a stand against President Obama today by giving him a shellacking democrat style. They took exception when they discovered he made a deal with Republicans to extend the George W. Bush tax cut extensions by two more years. A deal that included giving away the White House kitchen sink as well. Which was the straw that broke the camel’s back, enraging Democrats, provoking them into action.

“Not the kitchen sink too!” said a spokesman for House Democrats.

While Senator Bernie Sanders held the senate floor with a good old filibuster, Nancy Pelsoi headed straight for the White House with a carload of House Democrats.

“Let’s roll, boys,” said Pelosi.

As Nancy Pelosi and company pulled up at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, a “99'rs, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, Estate Tax and continued Bush W. Tax Cut Extensions for All Americans” moving truck was parked in front of the White House, its loading ramp already down.

President Obama himself with his sleeves rolled up was helping the moving men carrying the kitchen sink out of the White House out to the moving truck. Vice President Joe Biden standing off to the side drinking a beer, directing Obama and the moving men.

Nancy Pelosi and her boys jumped out of their car and immediately began blocking the loading ramp, their arms interlocked.

“We had to put the kitchen sink back for now,” said one of the moving men who was backing out of the White House carrying the kitchen sink when he bumped into Nancy Pelosi.

“We can’t let a deal this bad go through,” said Senator Bernie Sanders on the Senate floor, continuing with his historic filibuster. “The White House and everything in it belongs to the people. It is after all the people’s house not his [Obama]. He’s just a tenant. We the people are the landlords. Landlords of the shining house on the hill that is quickly turning into a tenement. So President Obama, I ask you on behalf of the American people who voted for hope and change…Put the kitchen sink back!”

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” said Janice Walker, 89, a homeless woman who lives across the street from the White House, while she stood in front of her shopping cart filled with everything she owns. “They’ve been moving furniture out of there ever since they moved in two years ago. Last week it was a Zenith console TV set. You know, they don’t make those in America anymore…TV sets, I mean.”

Walker then pulled back a gray weathered Mexican blanket covering her shopping cart, revealing a Zenith console TV set hidden underneath.

“I got the last one, see?” said Walker smiling a toothless smile. “Now all I need is a new American dream to plug it into.”

Copyright © 2010 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Willie Nelson’s Lawyer Argues: Willie’s Pot Really His Special Blend of Kentucky Bluegrass



Some Willie Nelson Supporters
outside a "Free Willie" rally


Dallas, Texas --


After analyzing the so-called cannabis contraband found on Willie Nelson's person, Austin border police have been forced to reconsider lessening the marijuana possession charge against the world renown country signer, or even dropping it altogether.

Border police busted Nelson the day after Thanksgiving when they found what they thought was marijuana, stuffed into a live turkey he was carrying under his arm.

“He tried convincing the police that he recently converted to vegetarianism,” said Martha Maryweather who was standing behind Willie Nelson when he was arrested. “And that he had just rescued that turkey he was carrying under his arm from a thanksgiving dinner he was invited to by his friends. But the police didn’t believe him. I didn’t believe him either. They thought he was high on pot. We all thought he was high on pot. You know, having one of those ‘Reefer Madness’ moments.”

Unfortunately the turkey did not survive the police interrogation and expired sometime during a full body cavity search.

“No doubt succumbing to ingesting 2 out of the 6 ounces of cannabis Mr. Nelson stuffed into its body,” said police.

However, Mr. Nelson will not be facing any animal cruelty charges. As the animal he selected to plant the alleged illegal substance was a turkey and it was on or near Thanksgiving Day.

“Also,” added police. “As cannabis or pot, as it is known by its street name, is classified as an herb. It’s therefore technically considered a dressing. In fact, my wife uses it all the time…the herb dressing, I mean. Not the pot.”

“Initially the field test conducted on the remaining alleged illegal substance retrieved from the turkey Mr. Nelson was transporting under his arm came back positive,” said authorities. “However, subsequent test results have been mixed at best.”

Authorities are still not saying much as to what the “alleged illegal substance” Nelson was carrying, if not pot. However, his lawyer did at a “Free Willie” rally, taking center stage wearing a Grateful Dead T-shirt.

“My client [Willie Nelson] is innocent!” said Jerry Stromburger, Nelson’s attorney and Dead Head as he nearly stumbled off the stage. “That’s all I wanted to say, man. He’s innocent! Wait a minute…Who’s innocent again?”

Mr. Stromburger then wandered off backstage into a cloud of cannabis before reemerging from it a few minutes later, escorted back to the microphone with the assistance of two scantily clad young blonde women, wearing little more clothing than their Willie Nelson style rainbow colored headbands.

A surprisingly suddenly sober Stromburger then read from a prepared statement filled with legalese.

“At no time was my client, William Nelson, in the possession of the aforementioned alleged illegal substance,” said Mr. Stromburger, looking down his nose through a pair of reading glasses at the paper he held steadily in his hand. “Rather my client was in possession of a special blend of Kentucky Bluegrass, which my client currently holds patent pending rights to. If you have any questions, please address them to my office during business hours. I thank you.”

With that, Mr. Stromburger exited the stage. Again, escorted by the same two scanty clad blondes as before, back into the cannabis fogbank.

Copyright © 2010 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Imposter Turkeys Get Presidential Pardon -- Really Salahi White House Gatecrashers in Disguise!



"Release the hounds!"


Washington, D.C. --

Law enforcement agents began investigating another White House gate-crashing incident today, allegedly perpetrated by the Salahis during last week’s presidential turkey pardoning ceremony.

Earlier in the year, the same couple, Tareq and Michaele, stepped into the national spotlight when they stepped out for an evening on the town, showing up at, of all places, a formal White House function hosted by the Obamas, claiming to be their invited guests.

“We want to know exactly how the Salahis alluded White House security for a second time this year,” said police.

It is believed this time the Salahis used a pair of crudely fashioned turkey costumes to gain unlimited access to the White House event.

Authorities were first alerted that something was wrong by a volunteer who works at the turkey sanctuary where the pardoned fowls are traditionally sent to live out their natural lives, upon return of a promotional tour of Disneyland in California. Which half of the birds are not expected to survive the first year, due to their generically alerted makeup.

“I found the turkey costumes out back, behind the barn,” said Wilbur Matthews of the Second Chance turkey sanctuary. “It seemed strange to me that a turkey would shed their skin like that. Let alone two turkeys. So I called the police.”

“It’s clear by the security tape taken from the Baltimore-Washington Intentional Airport that the Salahis hijacked the motor vehicle transporting my clients…I mean, umm, the pair of White Hollands [the turkeys],” said Special Agent, Mark Ford, who was assigned to Apple and Cider, ever since they hatched.

Special Angent Ford was scheduled to escort the fowl to the White House ceremony where they were expected to receive a full presidential pardon. That was, however, before he lost track of them at the airport.

A review of the White House security tape showed the Salahis driving the delivery truck pass the guardhouse and onto the White House grounds with a military precession that law enforcement professionals will be, in all likelihood, studying for years to come.

“Sometime after pulling the truck up to the back of the White House service entrance, the Salahis changed into two custom made 14-pound turkey suits,” explained Special Agent Ford. “And then they proceeded to the Rose Garden with the assistance of a kitchen staff member.”

As Special Agent Ford said, after pulling up to the service entrance the Salahis quickly changed into their turkey suits, honked the horn and yelled out of the back door of the truck, calling for assistance.

“All I heard was, ‘Hey! Somebody come get these birds before they spoil!” said Manuel Sanchez, an assistant chef who unwittingly carried the Salahis to the Rose Garden to pose for photographs with the president.

“You mean there were people inside those tiny bird cages?” said a surprised Sanchez. “No wonder they were so heavy, man. I should get paid overtime or something. Instead Obama wants to freeze my wages. Can you believe it, man?"

Unfortunately the Salahis’ deception was not discovered until after the conclusion of the pardoning ceremony, which resulted in the demise of the real Apple and Cider.

“We recovered their bodies…” said Special Agent Ford, who became verklempt, appearing visibly shaken as he spoke. “Or what was left of them.”

Apple and Cider were found in a refrigerator at a private residence outside the beltway the day after Thanksgiving.

“They were smothered…in gravy,” said Special Agent Ford as he broke down weeping.

An autopsy will be preformed on the uneaten remains to determine the official cause of death, however, initial findings point to three probable causes: sudden blunt force trauma to the head, decapitation and heat exhaustion.

“I’m hoping…they didn’t suffer,” said an inconsolable Special Agent Ford.

As for the Salahis, they have been summonsed to appear before a Congressional Hearing, again. However, it is believed they will escape any criminal prosecution.

“Even if we charged them with simple trespassing, it wouldn’t stick,” said spokesman for the Department of Justice. “Because they got a [BLEEP] damn presidential pardon!”

The discarded turkey suits will be sent to an undisclosed location somewhere in West Virginia.

“They will be analyzed there for any further evidence,” said a spokesman for the Secret Service. “And then destroyed by fire.”

Copyright © 2010 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

John Boehner Calling Obama “Lip [Service] Gate” Reason Enough to Hold Congressional Hearings -- Possible Impeachment Proceedings Begin?



"What? Me worry? I'll
compromise my way out
of this one, like always.
But what about you?"

 
Washington, D.C. --

Speaking as the incoming Speaker of the House and on behalf of his fellow Republicans and Blue Dog Democrats, John Boehner stood before a press conference today. Crying out for a Congressional Hearing into what he is calling “Lip Gate” to investigate how Barack Obama received an injury requiring 12 stitches to his lip during a basketball game last Friday. Even demanding that he voluntarily steps down now or face impeachment proceeding to force him from the Office as the duly elected President of the United States of America.

“I want to assure the country that this Congressional Hearing will be conducted in accordance with the rule of law and will not be turned into a witch hunt for personal or political party gain,” said Boehner.

However, used for the purpose for which it was intended, as a legitimate probe into a possible impeachment proceeding, according to Boehner.

“After all," Boehner continued. "It’s important for the American people to know in a time of crisis such as this when their leader suffers a life threatening injury, under what can only be described as suspicious circumstances at best, that we politicians know when its time to put away petty partisanship. And stand united behind their president. Therefore, I am demanding that since Obama is not a U.S. citizen but a Kenyan, that the Department of Justice charges the alleged assailant with assault on a foreign dignitary. And do so without delay. Let us not forget that we are a nation of laws, not just men. And justice delayed, is justice denied.”

Boehner then expressed concern over the president’s state of mental health, suggesting the injuries were more extensive then first reported.

“You know, in order to get 12 stitches, Obama must have sustained a tremendous amount for blunt force trauma to his head,” said Boehner. “Enough even to generate a concussion, I bet. Therefore, I have also asked the Surgeon General to declare Obama unfit to serve in office, pending a full medical examination of the president to assure the nation that he’s still physically and mentally capable of leading our Republic.”

Meanwhile, in a totally unrelated issue, while awaiting action on behalf of the Department of Justice and the office of the Surgeon General, Boehner managed to reinstate the ‘Death Panel’ provision back into the ‘Obama Health-Care’ legislation, during a rare midnight emergency secession of the so-called lame duck Congress.

“Death Panel’ is such an awful sounding phrase to describe a ‘Death Panel’ here folks,” said Boehner into the Congressional record. “So what do you say we use a more euphemistic term instead. Something more upbeat like, ‘Health Insurance Medical Review and Final Appeals Board’, okay?”

Boehner then concluded his second press conference as incoming Speaker of the House in which he managed not to shed a tear, although he did seem to be getting a little verklempt toward the end.

“I, umm,” said Boehner hesitating for a moment, sniffling overheard between pregnant pauses. “I, umm, want to…thank…y’all for coming today. That’s all. I just wanted to say…thanks.”

Copyright © 2010 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

TSA’s Giant Blue Latex Glove Balloon Gropes Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade!

 

The TSA says: "Hello Kitty"?!

   
New York, New York --

What can only be described as sheer terror broke out among the thousand of spectators lining the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade route today as they witnessed this year’s Transportation Security Administration (TSA) entry – A Giant Blue Latex Glove -- turn the corner onto 34th Street, floating above their heads, slowly headed their way.

“I thought we left that thing back at LaGuardia,” said Mark Gomez as he fled the parade attempting to save his 9-year-old daughter, Virginia, from a traumatic groping or full mechanical radioactive body scan. “I mean -- Oh the humanity!”

People scattered about the parade route, dodging into buildings and climbing lamp posts attempting to hitch a ride onto the backs of one of the other giant balloons, hoping to escape the giant TSA blue latex glove, though it was to no avail. Eventually it caught up to them…in the end, frisking and groping them for contraband and weapons of mass distraction of any kind.

TSA’s two-story tall inflatable gloved entry was one of 15 giant balloons and 43 novelty balloons participating in this year’s Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, said parade planning officials.

According to witnesses, the giant blue latex glove first went out of control when the wind changed direction causing the giant “Hello Kitty” balloon to brush up against it.

“I just don’t get it,” said one TSA balloon handler. “The same thing happened earlier in the day with the giant ‘Spongebob Squarepants’ balloon and nothing happened then.”

Sparks were reportedly seen by parade goers when the TSA balloon came into contact with “Hello Kitty” balloon, causing concern for a real chance of electrical shock.

“The amount of static electricity generated from the friction of those giant balloons could have taken out half the crowd,” later said a concerned parade official.

Fortunately, the clap…of thunder that the static electricity produced pushed the balloons apart, resulting in a micro storm front. That took the form of a little black cloud that hovered over the giant TSA blue latex glove for the rest of the parade.

Terrified witnesses watched helplessly as the TSA’s floating terror and accompanying black cloud headed for two giant hovering pumpkin balloons further down the parade route.

“It must have mistaken them for a giant pair of orange testicles,” said a parade goer, as she unwittingly witnessed the world fist and biggest airborne medical examination. “I swear I heard the giant TSA glove say to the pumpkins, ‘Please turn your head to the left and cough.”

After the incident, hundreds attempted to file a police report, alleging they all felt violated by the experience. However, they were turned away. Told it was a civil matter and handed a bottle of K-Y Jelly instead.

“There’s not enough water-base, water-soluble personal lubricant in the world,” said a traumatized parade spectator, laying alongside the parade route in the fetal position.

To everybody’s relief, the giant rogue TSA glove was finally halted when handlers of the “Tom Turkey” novelty balloon got an idea.

“We maneuvered ‘Tom Turkey’ right in front of the TSA glove,” said a Tom Turkey balloon handler. “And then we made it wiggle its tail feathers, making gobble, gobble turkey sounds too.”

Apparently, when the TSA glove got wind the ‘Tom Turkey’ novelty balloon it just could not resist and headed straight for it, dragging along its handlers behind it.

With all five fingers squeezed together, forming a cone like missile tip, it rammed its way all the way up the posterior of ‘Tom Turkey’, trapping itself there.

“It reminded me of the bird we have cooking in the oven back home,” said Gomez. “I, umm, think we’ll stop off somewhere and pickup a ham for dinner instead.”

“It reminded me more of a scene from ‘The Incredibles’ movie,” said Virginia. “You know, when ‘Mr. Incredible’ released that rocket claw into the heart of the giant metal ball robot. Yeah, it was more like that.”

Copyright © 2010 by Robert W. Armijo. All Rights Reserved.

Photo(s) courtesy of http://publicdomainclip-art.blogspot.com/

Jimmy Kimmal Declares War on Facebook! Cyber Body Causalities Begin to Mount!



What?! Not again!

 Hollywood, California --


Yesterday claimed another Facebook user, yet another victim of “National UnFriend Day”? Was it you? No? Well, of course not.

Well, imagine, nevertheless for a moment, that it was you. For after signing on to your Facebook account, you quickly discovered that you were among the causalities of Jimmy Kimmal’s late night vicious joke campaign.

All the while millions of others on Facebook continue to attempt to logon to their account to join innocently in what is unbeknownst to them has become a national feeding frenzy to be the first on their virtual block to do the unfriending, while a more vast, vast silent majority of others, fearing rejection, opt to unfriend themselves instead.

“They call the friendships we formed on Facebook and other cyberspace social networks artificial, synthetic and even impersonal,” said BlueAlex0193, while holding a computer keyboard up to his mouth, his index finger nervously hovering over the delete button. “And you know what? They’re right.”

Sadly, as police attempted to e-mail BlueAlex0193 to convince him to choose life, they were abruptly disconnected from his dialup service.

It is believed he suddenly depressed the delete key, attributed police, pending the release of the official autopsy report.

“Either that, or he tripped over the phone cord,” police said. “inadvertently choking himself to death, something that would have never happened if he had simply gone with a wireless connection.”

Copyright © 2010 by Robert W. Armijo

TSA to Issue Flowers and Chocolates at Security Checkpoints

About last night....

Washington, D.C. --

Desperate to deal with the growing public outrage over its new enhanced security pat down procedure that is openly referred to as “Groping” by airline passengers, and its full radiated body scan that leaves nothing to the imagination, seeing right through clothing rendering the person naked with images popping up on the Internet despite promises of privacy, the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) is activity engaged in a public relation’s campaign to placate the masses.

“We got the idea to give out chocolates bars from our solders during World War II, who handed out candy to children in countries we liberated,” said a spokesman for the TSA. “Also, out of a suggestion box from one of our employees who is quite experienced in having a number of dates gone wrong.”

TSA agents are instructed to handout gift certificates for chocolate to men who have been through the full body scan and gift certificates for flowers to women who have been disproportionately traumatized by the pat down screening.

“Chocolates?” said Albert Mathews, having recently opted for a full mechanical body scan. “I don’t need chocolates; I need a good stiff drink.

Mr. Mathews later added that if he would have known he was going to be exposed to such an intensive dose of radiation in his private parts region, he would have taken precautions before arriving at the airport.

“I would’ve stopped off at a sperm bank and made a substantial donation first,” said Mr. Mathews.

“Well, I guess the flowers are a nice idea,” said Mrs. Jane Miller, 36, mother of two, who had to be placed into a wheelchair unable to stand, much less walk on her own power, after receiving a pat down by TSA agents. “I mean after a search like that, I couldn’t hold anything down in my stomach anyway.”

TSA gift certificates can be redeemed at any major participating retailer (subject to availability).

Copyright © 2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Emma Watson Shares a Personal Secret

London, England –


The talented and attractive 19-year-old, Emma Watson, who plays the rambunctious and worldly “Hermione Granger” in the world famous “Harry Potter” movie series recently recounted to a women’s fashion magazine one of her most personal and revealing secrets, a moment held precious and dear to every young woman’s heart, as she blossoms into womanhood: the first time she discovers she is a millionaire.

“Although it was a couple of years ago when I was 17, it feels like it just happened yesterday,” said Emma Watson reading a passage from her diary as she recalled the day her father sat her down and had the talk – the money talk -- with her.

“Sit down, Emma,” he said to me, patting a spot on my bed, inviting me to take-up a seat next to him.

The walls of Emma’s room were typical for a teenager. All covered in ‘Harry Potter’ movie premiere posters, except she was in them all, dating back to the first film when she was only a prepubescent kid and autographed by all her co-stars and J.K. Rowling.

“Why? What is it, daddy?” said Emma as she stopped brushing her hair and sat next to her father. “This not about ‘The Talk’, again, is it? Because mummy already had that conversation with me.”

“No, it’s not about ‘The Talk’,” said Mr. Watson making air quotes with his fingers which made Emma laugh out loud as he looked around the room, trying not to look intimidated by the ‘Harry Potter’ posters that surrounded him, serving as a constant reminder of his daughter fortune and fame. “Although I’m relieved you and your mother already discussed that.”

“I understand --” said Emma Watson before she was cut off mid sentence by her father who seemed hesitant and distracted.

“It took the pressure off me,” said Mr. Watson with a big gulping sound emanating from his throat.

“What is it, daddy?” said a concerned looking Emma as she inched closer to her father, reaching out for his hand, hoping to help him overcome his anxiety that was apparent to both of them.

“Emma, I’ve been keeping a horrible secret from you,” said Mr. Watson.

“What, daddy?” said Emma. “You can tell me.”

“Well, you know how I’ve only been giving you $75.00 a week for your allowance for doing your chores around the house and whatnot?”

“Yes, daddy,” said Emma Watson. “But it’s alright. It’s not your fault. It’s all you can afford. I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, well. About that --” said Mr. Watson.

“If only J.K. Rowling would pay more than $10,000 per movie. If you ask me she’s the witch. And that rhymes with [BLEEP]!” said an enraged Emma Watson.

“Listen, umm, dear. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” said Mr. Watson, trying to calm his daughter down

“Imagine cheating me, a little girl, and all these years. Like, like that,” continued Emma. “Paying me a mere $10,000 per movie like that. Isn’t that what you said she pays me, daddy?”

“What was that, dear?” said Mr. Watson taken aback by the rapid dissipation of his daughter normally mild mannered demeanor.

“I said, isn’t that what she has been paying all these years?” repeated Emma but now in a demanding tone.

“Oh, yes. That’s about right,” said Mr. Watson. “Just $10,000 dollars a movie, dear.”

“I wish that rich [BLEEP] would leave her castle in Scotland for once,” said Emma as she grabbed a stuffed animal from her pillow. “I swear I’d like to wrap my fingers around her throat and…”

“Emma! Emma! Emma!” screamed Mr. Watson as he reached out for his daughter, her hands locked around the throat of her favorite Teddy Bear, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Who wore a black leather silver studded biker jacket with matching cap.

“I swear I’ll never do another ‘Harry Potter’ movie ever again!” said Emma.

“Stop it, Emma! Stop it,” begged Mr. Watson. “Besides, I’ve been putting money aside, saving it up for you.”

“What could you have possibly saved with what I earned after taxes, acting lessons and giving me my $75.00 weekly allowance?” said Emma as she tossed her beheaded and disemboweled Teddy Bear against the wall and then proceeded to teardown her all her collectable ‘Harry Potter’ posters.

“Forty-two million dollars!” reluctantly yelled out Mr. Watson. “Now for god sakes, get a hold of yourself. You’re acting like the typical American teenage girl. After all, remember. You’re British.”

Emma sat down silently beside her father again, her hair covering her eyes.

“Where is it?” Emma asked calmly, the only evidence of her emotional outburst the ripped up ‘Harry Potter’ posters and white fiber stuffing from her former Teddy Bear, Dumbledore, which clung to her hair in clumps.

“Right here,” said Mr. Watson as he reached behind his back, producing a pink piggy bank.

“Forty-two million dollars fit into that?” asked a disbelieving Emma, weighing the pink piggy bank in her hand, peeking inside.

“It’s in very large denominations,” said Mr. Watson, wiping away beads of sweat from his forehead.

“Huh. Oh. Okay,” said Emma as she placed the piggy bank on her dresser, next to her Teddy Bear’s beheaded body and Mickey Mouse novelty phone. “I’ll count it later.”

“Now you must promise me, Emma,” said Mr. Watson as he rose up and walked to her bed room door. “You must not break open 'Mrs. Piggy' Bank until you’re 21, okay?”

“Why, daddy?” asked Emma as she began picking up her room.

“Because…” said Mr. Watson as he hesitated, searching his mind for an answer. “It’s bad luck?”

“Oh. Okay,”’ said Emma pausing for a moment in thought before she shrugged her shoulder and continued picking up her room.

Outside Emma’s room Mr. Watson is approached by Mrs. Watson.

“Well, did she believe you?” asked a concerned Mrs. Watson.

“For now,” said Mr. Watson.

“That gives us just four more years to raise the 42 million dollars we've spent,” said Mrs. Watson.

“Either that, or time for 'Mrs. Piggy' bank to take a little road trip to the butcher’s shop, eh,” said Mr. Watson, making air qoutes with his fingers again.


Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

New York Marathon Chilean Miner Says He Trained by Outrunning Avalanches, Landsides and Cave-ins

Ready! Set! GO!!!!

New York, New York --


Rescued Chilean miner, Edison Peña, drew a hush from a crowd of spectators and admirers who gathered around him to watch him pick up his bib from the New York Marathon officials Thursday, as he told his inspirational story that not only did he train for the up coming marathon while trapped in a mineshaft a half mile beneath the earth for 69 days, but that he trained up on the surface during his lunch breaks too, before the mine collapse.

In fact, on the day of the mine collapse, Peña recalled to the captive audience of mostly running fans that it was during his daily training routine of placing a stick of dynamite at the foot of a mountain, lighting it up and running away from the avalanche of rolling rocks and debris that he found himself trapped in the mine with 32 other men.

“I never start running until I hear the thunderous sound of the exploding dynamite,” said Peña, who as a child of an impoverished miner was too poor to afford a starting pistol. So together with the other children of his village used sticks of dynamite, instead of a signal gun, to start their runs.

However, this time, Peña could sense something was different from all the other landslides he triggered with explosives.

“After the explosion,” said Peña as he outran the wave of boulders, dust and abandoned mining equipment behind him. “The earth she did not stop shaking for some reason. Not like she usually does after a minute or two, all depending on how many sticks of dynamite I use, of course. But instead she kept shaking.”

Peña thought to himself that perhaps there was someone else from his village training in the area, as he never before in his life experienced an earthquake.

At the moment, however, there were more pressing matters for Peña to attend to.

“When I looked over my shoulder,” said Peña. “I could see the avalanche was gaining on me. So I had to make a decision and quick.”

Fortunately for Peña there was a mineshaft just a quarter of a mile or so ahead of him, so he made a sharp turn inside of it.

“Just in time too,” said Peña. “The rocks sealed the entrance of the mine behind me.”

Once safely inside, Pena did not stop running however. Instead he turned on the light on his miner’s hat and kept running down into the interior of the mountain until he encountered the other miners at the bottom of the darkened shaft.

“When I first saw them standing there in the dark, I said to them, ‘What? Don’t tell me you were training for the marathon too?” said a nearly exhausted but relieved Peña.

Peña has agreed to submit to a full body cavity search before the beginning of the race on Sunday as a safety precaution imposed by the marathon officials.


Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Rescued Chilean Miners’ 15-Minutes of Fame Over Already?

Santiago, Chile --


A major breakfast cereal manufacturer announced today that it is canceling its plans to place all 33 faces of the rescued Chilean miners on a special collector’s edition of its most popular brand of cereal.

The decision came down from the corporate office when a dispute between the miners arose over whether they should all appear on a signal cereal box cover, or each appear separately on their own respective box of cereal.

“Sometime during negotiations it seems the cereal company, along with the public, simply lost interest,” said a spokesman for the miners at a nearly empty press conference to yawning reporters.

Other evidence that the miners may have exhausted their 15-minutes of fame came when paparazzi style photographs surfaced depicting dozens of the miners in candid moments of domesticity from taking out the trash, picking up after the family dog to sleeping on the couch. While other pictures showed the unmarried miners having to pay for their own drinks and lap dances at the local bar.

Despite the sensationalism of the shots, however, no buyer could be found for the photos.

“I’m going back to Hollywood to see if Lindsey Lohan is out of rehab again,” said a paparazzo who had been stalking the miners since their release. “If I hang around here much longer, I’ll starve.”

“They’re down to a ribbon cutting ceremony at the neighborhood grocery store in the morning,” continued the spokesman for the miners. “After that, they hit rock bottom. And have to star on their own reality TV show, if they expect to milk any more money out of what is left of their last remaining 15-minutes fame.”

No word as to whether the miners will be appearing all together on one reality TV show, or 33 separate ones.

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Cell Phone Time-Traveler Mystery Solved by MIT: Dr. Who’s Cross Dressing/Drag Queen Secret Exposed!

"When you at?"

Hollywood, California --

The mystery of the lady in the black and white footage from the 1928 movie premiere of Charlie Chaplin’s The Circus, who appears to be talking on a cell phone that was posted on YouTube by George Clarke, has apparently been solved, at least to the satisfaction of a group of students at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT).

A small enclave of undergraduate student at the university known worldwide for its accomplishments in the fields of science and technology subjected the grainy images to a battery of tests. Including an atomic spectrographic meter that measures the amount of radiation an item is giving off, even in a photograph or film.

“It’s much like the way we measure the amount of radiation from a distant star,” said James P. Macarthur, one of the MIT students closely involved in the testing, majoring in quantum mechanics with a minor in mythology.

Of course, James and his fellow students had to make some negligible adjustments to the device as they were analyzing a digital rather than an analogue image.

“But still, it yielded the expected results, which confirmed our collective hypothesis,” said James.

After careful scientific scrutiny, the students came to a starling conclusion:

“It’s undeniable,” announced James on YouTube. “The radioactive readings from the flux capacitor located in the cell phone’s micro processor chip were off the scale, generating a quantum wave signature consistent with a device that is able to traverse the continuum and anyone holding it close to their ear at the time.”

In laymen’s terms, the lady in the Charlie Chaplin footage from 1928 is (or was) a time traveler at the time the film was shot.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” added James. “The lady in the grainy black and white film that’s talking on a cell phone, she’s no lady. She’s a dude.”

James went on to claim that only three persons in the known universe that are capable of time travel.

“I don’t know about you, but my time traveler list is a short one,” said James. “And they are: Dr. Who, ‘Q’ from Star Trek -- The Next Generation, and theoretical physicist and mathematician, Professor Stephen Hawking. All dudes.”

James concludes that since all time travelers are male that the lady on the cell phone must be someone on his short list, dressed in drag.

“Now, I wouldn’t rule out Professor Stephen Hawking as the cross dressing time traveler just because he’s confined to a wheelchair,” said James. “After all, he is British, you know. And we all know how much British men like dressing up like women from watching episodes of Monty Python’s Flying Circus.”

And since Dr. Who is British too, James logically deduced that, that makes him the leading candidate as the cross dressing time traveler in the grainy footage from 1928.

“You have to take into account that we are dealing with the future here,” James continued. “It makes sense that Dr. Who would have upgraded from using blue telephone police exchanges to travel through time, opting to use a handheld device instead. Just think of the convenience.”

As for the reason why Dr. Who resorted to becoming the first-time traveling cross dressing/drag queen, James would not speculate, except to say:

“Perhaps that’s the only place he could find shelter from our judgmental society,” said James. “Or perhaps, he took comfort in the style and sensibility of handcrafted, high ankle support women’s shoes that the early Twentieth Century provided.”

At first, James ruled out any possibility of “Q” being the cross dressing time traveler because “Q’ is a part of the Continuum, but later he reconsidered.

“He is ‘Q’. He doesn’t need a cell phone to travel through time,” said James. “He just snaps his fingers and he’s there. And by there, I mean anywhere, anytime…Unless ‘Q’ was in disguise as a woman, which he is known to do from time to time, fooling Captain Jean-Luc Picard…I’ll have to present that dilemma to the Think Tank when we reconvene next week. I’ll get back you on that. Okay?”


Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo



Surgeon General Issues Warning to Rand Paul Supporters Against Head Stomping Political Opponents

“Get off my head, you [BLEEP]!”

 Lexington, Kentucky --

“Extreme caution should be exercised when engaged in the activity of head stomping a political opponent, as it may lead to the unintended consequences of injury to the vertebra or spinal column of the one doing the stomping,” said the Surgeon General at a press conference today, addressing an unfortunate incident at a Rand Paul political rally this weekend involving one of his supporters and a protestor.

According to Rand Paul’s people, in the so-called incident, the “outside agitator” from MoveOn.org threw herself to the ground directly in the path of a Rand Paul supporter who reacted by stomping his feet.

“Both were locked in a game of chicken,” said an eyewitness. “She dared him to step on her head. And he warned her to move it, or he would. She didn’t. So he did.”

As the perpetrator stomped his way around Rand Paul’s SUV, he encountered the agitator’s prone body on the ground and proceeded to stomp on her head, injuring his back in the process.


“I never knew I had such a supple spine,” said a somewhat shocked Rand Paul supporter from the back of an ambulance as he was rushed to a hospital. “Or else, I never would have stomped on that woman’s head. Who knew her head was so hard. I just don’t understand.”

Both the perpetrator and the victim must have the following preexisting medical conditions present, according to the Surgeon General as he outlined the possible cause of the spinal injury:

“The victim was obviously inflected with the medical condition known as: Difficilis Oris or hardheadeditus,” said the Surgeon General. “And the perpetrator with the medical condition called: Infirmus Rursus or yellowbellyitus.”

Until further medical tests can be conducted on Rand Paul’s supporters and MoveOn.org alike, the Surgeon General strongly recommended that both be kept a safe distance apart from the other.

“Or they risk further injury to their respective political causes,” said the Surgeon General. “Because, at this point. It’s hard to take either one very serious.”


Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Obama Tries Building “A Coalition of the Willing” of His Own

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Washington, D.C. --

After two years of disappointing his base of Liberals, Progressives, Independents, some elderly and especially young voters, President Barack Obama announced today, after a failed rally attempt held at an undisclosed stadium at a college back east for a taped political TV commercial to be aired at a later date, that he is building “A Coalition of the Willing” of his own to save what is left of his super majority in both Houses of Congress, come this November’s midterm elections.

“Listen,” said Obama, while addressing a dwindling crowd of mostly youthful supporters. “Not too long ago you people were fainting at my rallies. Now, now you hardly swoon. What’s up with that?”

“In the not too distant past, those people would have broken out into laughter,” later noted an Obama’s staff member. “Now, not even a smile was seen on a single face in the crowd.”

As a somber and awkward silence seized the audience, a heckler spoke up to respond to the President, who once promised he would bring hope and change to the nation.

“What’s up with breaking your campaign promise not to sign a healthcare bill that didn’t have a public option?” the heckler answered the President's rhetorical question. “Let’s start with that!”

The crowd cheered the heckler.

“Look America,” replied Obama as he walked away from his podium and prepared speech on his teleprompter, rolling up his sleeves as he walked across the stage. “I never promised you a rose garden. And I know this may shock some of you out there, but I can’t walk on water, either.”

The crowd broke out into laughter, Obama smiled.

“Now what do you say, America,” continued Obama satisfied he regenerated the faithful as he walked back up to his podium and teleprompter. “What about we start over? And you help me build what I call ‘A Coalition of the Willing’ to restore hope and change to Washington?”

The crowd fell silent once more.

“Now you maybe asking yourself what’s this ‘Coalition of the Willing’ all about?” said Obama as he clearly began reading off his teleprompter again. Not noticing that his audience fell silent once again. “Well, you can breathe a sigh of relief; I’m not going to send you to invade a country. Not like, like that other guy.”

Obama paused and looked out to the crowd from behind his podium and teleprompter, waiting for them to react with laughter. But no one laughed. In fact, people resumed leaving the rally, quietly shuffling out in droves; heads hung low as before. 

Looking puzzled, Obama signaled to someone in his entourage to roll back his speech on the teleprompter.

“I said…,” Obama spoke picking up where he left off as he reread his speech from the teleprompter again, but this time with more emphasis on the punch line. “Well, you can breathe a sigh of relief; I’m not going to send you to invade a country. Not like, like that other guy -- The other guy, get it? Come on, people. That’s funny.”

“Not as funny as your administration,” yelled out the heckler as the crowd continued their exodus.

“Do you really want the other guy back?” said Obama, departing from his prepared speech as he nervously looked out at the people continuing to leave the rally. “Because that’s what is going to happen if you don’t vote for the Democrats in November. It’s either me or the other guy. It’s your choice. It’s that simple.”

The people did not respond to Obama’s threat. And soon all left the rally. Except for one man, the heckler, who sat up front.

“What are you still hanging around here for?” asked Obama, acknowledging the heckler.

"I don’t know,” replied the heckler. “New material?”



Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

OctoMom’s Doc: I could’ve gone plumper

Los Angeles, California --





During an emotional PowerPoint presentation that was obviously engineered to sway the members of the California medical board in favor of the investigators trying to revoke the medical license of fertility specialist, Dr. Michael Kamrava, who stands accused of violating the medical ethics of his profession by implanting 12 embryos (instead of the recommended two) into the so-called “OctoMom” (Nadya Suleman, divorced), sat quietly.



Although the doctor watched the presentation in silence, he cut his own throat by inadvertently surrendering self-incrimination testimony at the conclusion of the slide show.



“I don’t know,” said a reporter who attended the hearing. “He didn’t seem phased at all by the pregnant pictures of Suleman. In fact, he looked like he was admiring them.”



In the darkened medical board room, images of the alleged victim’s bloated ballistic-like belly reflected off the doctor’s spectacles, as a synchronized soundtrack from the movie “Titanic” played in the background.



As one series of photos ended, another series began; seemingly filling up the projector screen with an endless pride of OctoMom posing in various protruding positions and gigantic states of gestation.



However, as soon as the projector screen went bleach white plank, pausing between each of the 35-year-old Suleman’s 14 pregnancies (as the computer struggled loading up the new data on its hard drive), people eagerly moved about in their seats in anticipation of the lights coming up, only to be disappointed when more pregnant photographs of OctoMom assaulted them instead.



Gasps of shock and disgust, which emanated from the sympatric audience in the beginning, were quickly replaced by groans of “Oh man, not another one” or “What the? Not again!” by the end.



Finally, as the slideshow presentation concluded, the fertility specialist leaned over to whisper into his attorney’s ear.



“I could’ve gone plumper,” gloated the accused as the lights came back on in the room.

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Cigar Guy the 34th Chilean Miner Rescued?

Santiago, Chile --



The Chilean mining authority has confirmed reports that a 34th man was extracted from the collapsed mine just hours after it was believed the last rescue worker was the last man to be pulled up to the surface.

“We couldn’t believe it when we got the radio message from the last rescue worker that there was another man still down there,” said a representative of the Chilean mining authority that took charge of the rescue operation days after the mine collapse and to its successful completion.

As the last rescue worker, Manuel Chavez, waved to the remote camera a half-mile beneath the earth from the now abandoned miners camp in preparation to be the last man to ascend to the surface, he half entered the elongated red, white and blue capsule only to unexpectedly pause.


The rescue crew monitoring his moves from the surface, waiting with unopened champagne bottles in hand called down, asking him what was wrong.


“What are you doing, Manuel?” jokingly asked the crane operator responsible for pulling up the capsule out of the cramped metal tube. “Don’t be such an attention whore. Get into the capsule so we can celebrate properly. El Presidente is buying us the first round of drinks.”



However, the crew chief, who was watching Manuel on a monitor, instantly knew something was seriously wrong and got on the radio.



“What’s wrong, Manuel?” said the crew chief. “Why don’t you get into the capsule?”


Manuel still paused mid stride with one foot inside the capsule and the other outside, did not respond but instead shook his head as if in disbelief as he turned away from his ride to freedom and turned back toward the cavernous interior.



“Everybody stop cheering!” yelled out the crew chief using a bullhorn.



Soon everybody’s attention was once again refocused on the live feed from the floor of the mine.



All watched as Manuel left the safety and security of the rescue vehicle and walked out of camera range toward something that had obviously drew his attention.



“Manuel radioed up to me, asking if I was sure that all the miners had been accounted for,” said the crew chief. “I told him, yes. I was sure. All 33 men were out of the mine. No one had been left behind. But he didn’t believe me and asked me to do another headcount.”




That is when the crew chief asked him why, but Manuel’s response was unintelligible. Drowned out by the cracking and popping sounds of a radio signal out of range, or encountering interference.




The crew chief asked Manuel several times to repeat his last transmission, but no response came.


Moments turned into minutes which seemed like hours but finally Manuel reestablished communication, even returning to the capsule. As he walked back into camera range, however, was not alone. He had his arm over the shoulders of a man wearing an ethnic headdress, sporting a heavy mustache and smoking a cigar.


“Cigar Guy?!” let out a collective cheer of relief and surprise from the rescuers on the surface.

“It was him,” said the crew chief, still in a state of disbelief. “You know, the man that first showed up in that famous Tiger Woods photo and everywhere since.”


Later, back up at the surface, Cigar Guy explained that as soon as he heard that the men were trapped in the mine, he decided he would take on his own to hike down into the mine to cheer them up.


“Only by the time he reached them. They were already rescued,” explained Manuel, still with his arm around Cigar Guy’s shoulder back on the surface.




In Manuel’s own words, he was ready to leave the mountainous tomb when he thought he saw a flash of light against the walls of the mineshaft, an orange glow in the dark behind him and detected the distinct odor of a fine Cuban cigar lingering in the air.

Walking toward the pleasant aroma, Manuel caught in the beam of his flashlight: Cigar Guy -- who was calmly sitting on a boulder, smoking a cigar.


As Manuel cautiously approached, Cigar Guy reached under his cloth hat covered in a thick white chalky dust and pulled out a cigar, which was unscathed and in perfect smoking condition and handed it over to him.


As the two men sat side-by-side on top of the boulder smoking away their cigars in the dark, a half-mile down in the bowel’s of the earth, no words, or translation, was necessary between them to say: job well done, job well done.


Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Lady Gaga Almost Cooked to Death at Celebrity Roast Held in Her Honor



Turn me over. I think I’m done on this side.



Hollywood, California –

After Lady Gaga’s appearance in a dress made entirely of raw meat at the MTV Video Music Awards, she immediately headed backstage to a waiting limousine that whisked her away across town to tape a celebrity roast held in her honor to be aired at a later date.

Only, this time, as she graced that stage there with her presence. Still wearing her cut above the rest couture incarnate -- a full metal jacket of Black Angus -- designed by Franc Fernandez to address the audience, she tripped on some tripe that was dangling from her dress. And fell into a large open-air Bar-B-Que pit.

Horrified members of the audience and catering staff rushed to Lady Gaga’s assistance, while others dialed 911.

“She flew right into it. Head over heels,” said Meshach Martinez, a caterer in attendance at the event.

“We couldn’t really get close enough to her to pull her out of the Bar-B-Que pit because of the intensity of the heat,” said a member of the audience that tried to help. But was pushed back by the flames. “Not without loosing all the photos we took with our camera phones of her struggling to get out."

Water was considered as a way to douse out the fire and save Lady Gaga from her Dante’s Inferno. At the last minute, however, it was ruled out.

“That quick thinking may have averted a second tragedy as it was rapidly assessed that the heat generated from the steam would do more harm then the flames,” later said a first responder. “So wisely, Bar-B-Que sauce was applied instead.”

“I know the Bar-B-Que sauce served as a marinade, lightly seasoning and moisturizing Lady Gaga’s dress just enough to prevent it from drying out, sealing in the natural juices,” said. Martinez, as he made the sign of the holy cross. “Acting not only as a tactile tenderizing agent pleasurable on its own but an enhanced gastronomic culinary delight that inhibits many of the free radicals (known carcinogens) that come with the carbonization of meat over an open flame. But still, it was a miracle. Santa [Saint] Gaga was engulfed in charbroiling flames, but they did not consume her. Only her dress.”

“It was no miracle,” explained the EMT that treated Lady Gaga at the scene for liquid smoke inhalation. “Like most people who fall into an open Bar-B-Que pit, their first instinct is to get up and run. Normally that would be the most prudent course of action and one I would recommend. However, not if you happen to be wearing a long evening gown made entirely out of raw meat.”

In which case, it is advisable to duck and roll instead.

“And that’s precisely what Lady Gaga did,” continued the EMT. “She kept rolling from side to side. Depending on how well done she was on that particular side. It’s that action which saved her life.”

Once Lady Gaga realized that it was her outer garment of other animal flesh and not her own carcass that was what was being seared, however, she quickly hopped up onto her feet and walked out of the Bar-B-Que pit on her own power.

“Not even the soles of her feet were burned,” said Martinez. “Another miracle.”

As a small plume of rich smelling hickory smoke hovered above her head, Lady Gaga, from under an oxygen mask, told her attending EMT that remarkably just a week before she had taken a fire walking class at the local Annex, enabling her to tread lightly over white-hot coals unscathed.

“That too,” said the EMT. “Probably contributed to saving her life. But mostly I think it was the flank steak.”

Inspired by the nearly tragic, if not fatal, incident, Lady Gaga then asked for a sketchpad and piece of charcoal to write with.

With her USDA inspected gown still smoldering, she sat down on the back bumper of the ambulance and began wildly drawing out her idea for her next outrageous outfit: a short sleeve jacket made of molten vocalic lava.

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Katy Perry’s Elmo T-Shirt on SNL a Last Minute Backstage Gift from Elmo?

New York, New York --


Moments before going on the air during last weekend’s Saturday Night Live (SNL) to help out with a last minute thrown together comedy skit, allegedly Elmo showed up at Katy Perry’s dressing room. Bearing a gift that would not only add to the controversy of their canceled video (previously scheduled to be shown on PBS), but ultimately would result in her getting banned from ever appearing on “Sesame Street” altogether.

“Knock, knock,” said Elmo as he intermittently giggled to himself, while standing outside Katy Perry’s dressing room door holding a box wrapped in red colored paper and tied up with a velvet red bow with gold trimming. “Guess [giggle], guess who?”

Katy Perry got up from her dresser seat to open the door, immediately recognizing the voice. She was already dressed in her SNL costume, which consisted of a low button white cotton blouse, black framed eyeglasses and a provocatively short parochial plaid schoolgirl skirt.

Upon opening the door Katy Perry grabbed the present out of Elmo’s hands and ripped into it on the spot.

“Oh my God,” said Katy Paerry as she held up the contents of the tattered box in her hands: a T-shirt bearing the likeness of Elmo’s red furry face, bulbs orange nose and bug-like eyes. “You shouldn’t have.”

“It’s for you, Miss Katy,” said a seemingly anxious Elmo as he grabbed the T-shirt away from Katy Perry holding it above his head while running around the dressing room. “To wear right now. Yes, yes. To wear right now [giggle]. Right now, now.”

“But Elmo, I’m already dressed,” said Katy Perry. She could see the disappointment in Elmo’s face, which gave her pause.

“Well,” continued Katy Perry, as she reconsidered. “I guess there’s still time to change -- Here. Give it to me.”

Seconds later, Katy Perry emerged from a screened partition wearing the Elmo T-shirt. However, as she modeled it for Elmo, she caught a reflection of herself in her dresser mirror and noticed the T-shirt was two sizes too small. And that it had been altered, low cut in the middle, revealing her cleavage. Risqué even for late night TV, she thought to herself.

“Elmo, where did you get this T-shirt?” asked Katy Perry as a note of hesitation in her voice echoed from inside the truncated garment, while she fudged with it. Trying to adjust it. Trying to make herself fit into it. Then struggled just to stay in it.

Elmo did not answer right away. Instead he dithered about the room, running his scarlet mitten of a hand along the dresser top.

“I…” replied Elmo, the three-foot tall ruby red master manipulator, guilt-invoking, smooth operator. “I made it especially for you, Miss Katy. Why? Doesn’t Miss Katy like what Elmo made for her?”

Once again, a look of disappointment appeared on Elmo’s face, overwhelming Katy Perry's sense of better judgment to the point that she just could not bring herself to deny that adorable red ball of fur anything that he asked of her.

“No, no,” said Katy Perry as she continued to struggle to keep herself contained in the modified two sizes too small Elmo T-shirt. “I love what you made for me. It’s just…just that I can barely breathe in it. It’s so tight.”

“So Miss Katy will wear Elmo’s T-shirt then?” asked an opened mouth Elmo.

“Yes, Elmo…” said an all too-ready-to-please and nearly out of breath Katy Perry as she used hairpins to anchor the Elmo T-shirt to her body piercings. “Miss Katy…will wear the Elmo T-shirt.”

“Yippee!!!” said Elmo as he began running around the dressing room again, unable to contain his excitement.

Meanwhile, Katy Perry quickly discovered that the only way to keep air circulating in her lungs was if she kept jumping up and down. Soon, one of Katy Perry’s body piercings gave way, and she experienced a wardrobe malfunction.

“Oh my God!” said Katy Perry as she wrapped her arms around her exposed breasts in a futile attempt to conceal them. “You didn’t see that? Did you Elmo?”

“See what?” said Elmo in a somewhat detached monotone voice and who was no longer running around the room. But stopped dead in his tracks, standing motionlessly behind Katy Perry. “Elmo didn’t see anything. Nothing at all [forced giggle].”

“Oh good,” said a somewhat unsettled and still panting Katy Perry as she readjusted her Elmo T-shirt, tucking herself back into it.

Katy Perry then caught the image of Elmo in her mirror, still standing silently behind her. Fixated in an almost trance like state. Just staring at her, which sent a chill down her spine.

“You know, Elmo,” Katy Perry nervously spoke. “I…I, ah, think I’m going to wear the white blouse instead, okay? Hey, where did it go?”

Just then a knock came at the door. Katy Perry motioned as if she was going to get up to answer it, but Elmo beat her to it.

“One minute to air time,” said an ambiguous male voice from the other side.

“Too late, Miss Katy,” replied Elmo as he raced to the door, ready to open it for her. “You got to wear Elmo’s modified two sizes too small T-shirt now [giggle].”

“You know,” said Katy Perry to Elmo as she passed by him jumping up and down. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. The way you refer to yourself in the third-person is really beginning to creep me out.”

“Ha-ha,” laughed Elmo as he opened the door. “Miss Katy make Elmo laugh out loud.”



Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Dr. Evil Implicated in ‘Starbucks’ Russian Spy Ring

Washington, D.C. --

Dr. Evil quickly denied any involvement in the Russian spy ring that operated unbeknownst to all out of the trendy ‘Starbucks’ café franchise in Arlington County, Virginia, insisting that he is guilty only of being a major stockholder in the coffee corporation.

“I’ve renounced my evil ways,” said Dr. Evil from his lair inside the Seattle Space Needle, overlooking the emerald city of the Pacific Northwest.

Dr. Evil referred reporters to an earlier press release in which he had previously announced his retirement from the evil profession, however no one knew what the hair follicle challenged mastermind of doom and despair was talking about.

“None of you got the memo I sent out?” asked Dr. Evil as he stroked his hairless pussycat from his black leather chair. “You know, the one where I, the most evil villain of all time. The Freddy Krueger from your nightmares on Saint Elmo’s Street. America’s most wanted desperado announced that he was calling it quits? No? No one?”

Just then ‘Number Two’, Dr. evil’s chief assistant, leaned over Dr. Evil’s chair, tapping him on his shoulder.

“They said no, Dr. Evil,” said Number Two.

“Right,” said Dr. Evil.

Dr. Evil then arose up out of his chair, walking over to a ‘Starbucks’ coffee outlet kiosk conveniently situated in his evil den and coming soon to a location near you.

As ‘Mini-Me’, Dr. Evil’s three-foot clone, dressed up as a Barista served him a cappuccino double espresso with a twist of lime, Dr. Evil began telling his story.

“You see the reason I retired from evil is quite simple really,” said Dr. Evil as he looked up from his coffee cup, holding it with both hands as he spoke in between sips. “There’s just too much competition out there today. I mean with your banksters, Wall Street’s Super Sonic Hedge Hog fund investors and BPs and all. Tell me who in the hell can compete with [BLEEP] that? I knew I couldn’t. So I decided it was time for me to leave the business. That’s all. No biggy.”

Dr. Evil now claims he is just an average American billionaire who owns shares in a major corporation.

“Now I just lounge around killing time instead of people,” said Dr. Evil. “While waiting for my dividend checks to arrive in the mail. So I can cash them down at the neighborhood liquor store. And buy some 40-ouncers for the homies.”

After returning to his black leather chair, Dr. Evil continued.

“So you see ladies and gentlemen,” said Dr. Evil as he resumed petting his cat. “I have no interest in international espionage. In fact, I haven’t done an evil thing since my retirement. Not unless you count voting Republican in the last election.”

As Dr. Evil turned around his chair with his back to reporters, he asked to be excused.

“Now if you will all be so kind as to excuse me, I have a flight to South Africa to catch,” said Dr. Evil. “You see I have a few more elimination matches to referee in the World Cup before the big game.”

With that, Dr. Evil began to laugh in a sinister manner.

Later, aboard an international flight headed for South Africa…

“Sinister is not evil,” argued Dr. Evil over the phone with a writer from ‘Rolling Stone’ magazine, as fellow passengers peered over their seats, trying to see what the commotion was all about. “It’s just sinister…Okay granted, maybe it’s just a little evil, but that’s off the record…Come on man give me a [BLEEP] break here…Print that and I’ll sue. I won’t stand for you doing me like you did that fine general…Oh, never mind. It’s too [BLEEP] late for suing…That’s right you heard me you mother [BLEEP]…Why is it too late for suing? Because I’m going to [BLEEP] liquidate you, like magma.”

After hanging up the phone, Dr. Evil ordered a non-alcoholic drink and tilted his airline seat all the way back to the full recline position.

“Okay,” Dr. Evil sighed to himself as he closed his eyes, taking sips out of a straw from his fruit drink with a tiny umbrella in it. All the while, mentally plotting the demise of the ‘Rolling Stone’ writer. “Looks like Dr. Evil is back in [BLEEP] business.”

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Vuvuzelas at World Cup Blamed for Man Being Stung to Death by Bees

Johannesburg, South Africa --

A man in attendance at the World Cup 2010 games in South Africa was found stung to death by thousands of Europeanized bees today. His swollen and bloated body was found under the bleachers after a football [soccer] match between Slovenia and team USA, which ended in a 2 to 2 tie with the Americans having achieved a stunning comeback after being nearly defeated in the first 45 minutes of the game by the weakest players in Group C.

South African officials believe the deceased man was a football fan and not merely a passerby, judging by the elevated blood alcohol level at the time of his death.

As for the cause of his demise, it has not yet been officially determined.

However, security cameras covering the event clearly show the man was walking underneath the stadium bleachers carrying a tray of beer when he stumbled upon a swarm of bees.

Beekeepers around the world have been warning World Cup officials of the danger the vuvuzela horn posses, which they claim collectively mimics the sound of an active beehive.

“When it’s just one [vuvuzela], it posses no threat to a colony of bees,” said Pablo Martinez, a Spanish beekeeper. “But when combined with hundreds or thousands of them, they make a bee-like sound similar to that of bees on the attack.”

Apparently, the resulting droning sound that the vuvuzela produces arouses surrounding bee colonies, causing the drones to become alarmed and placed in a defensive posture.

Rolling up his sleeve exposing recent signs of bee stings on his arm, Martinez claims he had to put on his beekeepers suit and use smoke to calm down his bees because they were so disturbed by all the noise the vuvuzela horn was making.

That was before he figured out that all he had to do was turn down the volume on his TV set to continue watching the World Cup without further disturbance.

“Who won Slovenia or America?” asked Martinez having missed the match, while calming his bees down. “Oh I really don’t care. Just so long as it wasn’t a tie. I’d kill myself if I had to watch them play each other again. Turn up the volume on my TV set and walk right out into my bees without any protection.”

“We can’t be absolutely sure that the bees weren’t already there. Or if they were in deed attracted to the football match by all the vuvuzelas sounding in the stadium,” said a FIFA spokesman at a press conference. Announcing that they are conducting their investigation into the matter after being accused of cowing to the host country’s customs and traditions.

Eager to clear the vuvuzela horn of any fault, at first South African officials tried dismissing the incident as another football fan related death.

Attempting to attribute the thousands of swollen markings on the victim’s body to tiny punches he must have sustained in a violent altercation with vertically challenged humans, rather than bees.

“You never know,” said one South African official, at the time trying to place the cause of death onto pygmy-sized football hooligans. “They could have had very little hands. Tiny hands.”

However, live aerial shots taken of the stadium from the vantage point of a Goodyear blimp hovering overhead seems to confirm the victim’s cause of death was vuvuzela related, showing what appears to be swarm of bees approaching the sports arena just moments before the deadly encounter.

“We thought it was a wisp of clouds at first,” said John Whitmore, pilot of the dirigible who had no warning of the impending mini-winged angels of death.

“I couldn’t hear a damn thing except for those blasted vuvuzelas,” said Whitmore.

Whitmore’s co-pilot attempted to warn him of the swarm of bees that he was flying into by way of hand gestures and impromptu game of charades.

“I couldn’t understand a damn word he was saying. Much less what he was doing,” said Whitmore.

Not until the co-pilot stopped flapping his arms about the cockpit and picked up a vuvuzela, blowing it into Whitmore’s ear.

“Then the damn thing came to me,” continued Whitmore. “We were about to collide with a conflagration of angry bees.”

Fortunately, Whitmore and his co-pilot were able to take evasive maneuvers avoiding a full on collision with the bees, barely making an emergency landing after losing altitude.

Later, Whitmore posed next to his damaged dirigible for photojournalists, showing the bee stings his lighter than air aircraft had incurred in its airborne encounter.

“I guess they thought my airship was a giant rival queen bee,” Whitmore speculated. “Thought maybe it was responsible for making all that noise.”

After the conclusion of their investigation, South African officials say they intend to return the victim’s body back to its country of origin, which will be difficult to determine, as the individual was not carrying any identification on his person.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait for the football team that he was cheering for to come claim his body,” said the coroner, expecting that will be anytime soon after the conclusion of the World Cup. “By then, the swelling should go down a bit, too.”

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

SNL’s Amy Carter Skit Criticized for Setting Controversial Precedent (i.e. Fast Forward: ‘Did you plug the hole yet, Daddy?’)

New York, New York --

Saturday Night Live (SNL) has fallen under heavy criticism for its ‘Amy Carter Goes to Public School’ skit, which has been characterized by critics as insensitive, inappropriate, if not disrespectful, and should have never been aired.

“We’re talking about the President’s daughter here,” said one displeased SNL viewer calling into 30 Rockefeller Plaza to complain along with thousands of others. “She’s just a child. And no child deserves be used as either the butt or punch line of someone’s joke. No matter how much of a public figure the child’s father is.”

NBC says it never received so many complaints from their viewing audience before.

“Not since we took ‘Star Trek’ off the air nearly ten years ago,” said one concerned NBC executive.

“President Carter’s decision to send his daughter to a public school guarded by the Secret Service was the inspiration behind the comedy sketch,” explained an NBC spokesman. “His critics contend that it was an unjustified expense of taxpayers’ dollars and an intrusion into Amy Carter’s life as well as that of her classmates.”

In the comedy skit drawing all the fire, Amy Carter (Laraine Newman) is accompanied by two daunting Secret Service Agents (Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd) wearing dark suits, eyeshades and hidden walkie-talkie earpieces, standing at both sides of her desk in a classroom filled with other children after her father, President Jimmy Carter, insists that she attend public school instead of a private one.

Outraged by the complaints received for the skit, a protective Lorne Michaels, the executive producer of the late night scripted comedy TV show, vowed he would not allow anybody to intimidate his SNL writers.

“That’s my job,” said Lorne Michaels.

NBC’s legal department confirmed the controversial skit had been cleared for airing through its censor in advance, all according to policy and without incident.

“That should be enough, man,” said a SNL writer who collaborated on the creative work. “Beside, who knows, maybe one day there will be a Blackman in the White House who has kids. Can you dig that? And not placing an antic disposition on them like we did with little Amy Carter would be hypocritical, man.”

“If that day ever comes, I don’t mind risk having to place my SNL writers in the awkward position of being misperceived as racists,” said Lorne Michaels. “Better them than me.”

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo

Apple iPads Deployed to Gulf Oil Leak

Silicon Valley, California --

Apple software engineers have just created a new App for the iPad that can help clean up the British Petroleum (BP) oil spill in the Mexican Gulf by converting your iPad into an actual pad, allowing it to soak up oil.

“Once the App is downloaded from our Apple Online App Store and your iPad converted,” said Roger Stewart, a software engineer who heads up Apple’s new Environmental Apps Technical Information Team (EATIT). “Your iPad pad can absorb up to five barrels of oil a day.”

However, Apple strongly recommends the use of thick industrial rubber gloves, a respirator and ‘Dove’ dishwashing liquid detergent to clean off the oil from your iPad pad immediately afterwards, or risk voiding your warrantee.

“That way too, you will avoid contaminating yourself with known cancer causing carcinogens and getting dishwater hands,” said Stewart. “Then simply wring out all the water and hang it out to dry.”

Apple also suggests that you make certain that the batteries are dry before reactivating your iPad.

“By doing so,” said Stewart. “You’ll reduce the risk of electrocution to yourself. And more importantly, shorting out your iPad.”

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo