Enjoy that bottle of Mountain Dew while you can, because some day it's going to be illegal.

by The Redneck Republican

Every couple of days something happens that reaffirms my conviction that I would rather go down on Chewbacca's mom than send my daughters to public schools. This week it's the decision by our major soft drink companies to ban on the sale of pop and other soft drinks high in sugar and calories in our nation's great institutions of learning. You might think it ironic that our former Fellatee-In-Chief, a guy who never met a Quarter Pounder (or a slack-jawed female underling) he didn't like, was behind the deal, but it made sense to me. Anytime someone is strong armed into a "doing the right thing for our children" deal, you can smell a DemLib in the background easier than you could smell a Dorito's fart in Rosie O'Donnell's sleeping bag. Before you get all defensive on me, telling me that it's not such a bad deal, that our kids are better off, let me give you one reason why this deal is dumber than Kellie Pickler at a Chinese spelling bee.

Pop helped us to win World War II.

It’s common knowledge that one of the reasons we gave the Japs and the Krauts such a spanking is the widespread use of Coca-Cola by our brave fighting men. Coca-Cola became an icon of that war and symbolized one thing and one thing only: We Are From the Greatest Country in the History of Civilization and We Are Going to Kick Your Ass! How do you think our troops would’ve fared on D-Day if they were fed a steady diet of wheatgrass juice and Vegan Goat Cheese Pizza? Madeline Albright has a better chance of winning a Wet T-Shirt contest. Pop helped make this country #1. All over the world people are drinking Coke and liking it. What the DemLibs want us to do is retreat with our veggie dips and banana cantalope smoothies and watch as the rest of the Coca-Cola drinking and Whopper-inhaling countries grow stronger while our kids sit on their asses learning about oral and anal sex and whatever else the DemLibs see fit to teach them instead of arithmetic and math. So you want your sons and daughters to grow up to become strong fathers and good mothers? Don’t worry they will--as the egg and sperm donors for Ellen Degeneres and Melissa Etheridge’s next love child in the Islamofascist People’s Republic of the United States of America.

The Patron Saint of the 101st Fighting Keyboarders

Oh, the Pain! The Pain!

by Dr. Zachary Smith

I understand that you, my acolytes, have been struggling in your war against Islamofascism. Your enemies within, including those insufferable unserious bumptious cowards John Kerry, John Murtha, Max Cleland and Wesley Clark (and I have my eye on you, John McCain…something tells me that you are a vainglorious pantywaist!!) are doing everything in their power to make it tougher for our Great Leader to prevail in this war of all wars--WORLD WAR III--against those sheet-wearing villains in the Middle East! But we have so many brave fellows on our side doing all that is possible to help our great leader prevail. I’m talking about people like “Chesty”
David Warren, one of the bravest souls that has ever lived, his penchant for little fishes and cockle shells notwithstanding. We can be sure that if a submachine-gun-welding Islamofascist enters our line of vision, dear Rick will throw himself upon the infidel and save us all from a bloodbath. I’m also talking about Mark Steyn, the dear boy! What can you say about this renaissance man that hasn’t been already said! A military genius of the first rank, whose talent for strategy makes Matthew Ridgway and George Patton look like CUB SCOUTS! We will have no problem defeating the enemy as long as a man of his caliber is leading our troops.

And what about Jeff Goldstein? A househusband with nerves of steel (and protein-enriched wisdom! What a clever boy!) I look forward to his appointment as Secretary of State when this mess is over. Of course he’ll have to do something about that unfortunate choice of headgear, but no matter…his unfailing gallantry and seriousness of purpose is a source of comfort to all of us on the field. Of course there is also the gang at the Corner: K-Lo, J-Pod, The Derb. On the other hand, forget the Derb, his foppery is such a downer these days! And how can we not forget the lovely and vivacious spinsters Ann Coulter and Debbie Schlussel. Their gift of the very best years of their life is an inspiration to us all. When most women their age are changing diapers and heating up formula, they are putting themselves on the front lines, willing to appear on television…any television to get our message across…EVEN ONE TELEVISION WILL SUFFICE: OUR STRUGGLE IS THAT IMPORTANT! So what if MSNBC and FOX News get a fraction of the ratings of a Flobie infomercial! The important thing is that they are our doing our bidding and we should be grateful for their sacrifice! Of course some of our comrades are loving mothers, like the aforementioned Jeff Goldstein and the lovely Michelle Malkin. The fact that dear Michelle risked the safety of her family to expose those ungrateful unwashed college hippies is all we have to know about her fealty! I do worry about her mental health, though. The brutalization that she must have endured at the hippie college! That she lasted a semester is a miracle—I BLAME THE INDIGO GIRLS!!!!

Of course a war like this cannot be won on strength alone. We need brains as well. How hopeful I am of our eventual victory knowing such engaging figures like James Lileks (The Boswell of Himself!) are contributing their insights to our cause. And John Stossel! What a clever boy, standing logic on its head at every given opportunity. I look forward to his next volume attacking popular beliefs. (A modern day Ferris Bueller he is!) Some suggested titles: Why the Holocaust Was Good for the Jews; Lead Three Times a Day; The Healing Power of Incest: What the Liberal Media Won’t Tell You. There are others I would like to thank for their sacrifice, especially those College Republicans across our great nation who have made it their duty to defend us through fund-raising activities, non-profit work and strongly worded editorials and letters in their college newspapers, but I have precious little time at the moment….Oh dear…I have just clicked on Michelle’s Hot Air,,,and…oh dear…breaking news…oh dear..it seems like a brown-skinned harridan has smuggled a jar of hand cream and a NAIL CLIPPER on a TRANSLANTIC FLIGHT!

Oh dear….OH DEAR!!!!!!!!!!!

Koogle

In the commercial a mousy blonde housewife who just couldn’t get over how awesome Koogle was. When Kenny told him about Koogle, Wade said that it was some kind of Jewish food. “No, it’s a new kind of peanut butter...a flavored peanut butter.”

“So it’s not Kugel.”

“No it’s Koogle.”

“Oh.”

The mousy woman in the commercial looked exactly like Goldie Hawn.
The first time Kenny saw Koogle in the supermarket he couldn’t contain his excitement. He couldn’t decide which flavor to choose: chocolate, banana, vanilla or cinnamon? He chose the cinnamon, mostly because Jack would think it was a perfectly stupid pick, even though he loved cinnamon toast, having learned to make it from reading an old children’s cookbook he found in his classroom.

“We have peanut butter at home,” his mother said.

“NO WE DON’T,” Kenny said.

“Why are you yelling?”

“We only have the chunky that you bought like a million years ago. I hate chunky and Jack only eats it when he’s really hungry.”

“What about the Jiff I bought last week?”

“Two weeks ago. It’s gone.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“So can we get it?”

“You two are eating me out of house and home.”

“Please?”

Kenny put the jar in the cart and then walked over to the cereal section, mentally preparing for another argument. It was true about the chunky peanut butter. They hated it. Jack only ate it with a spoon when he was really hungry and there was nothing else to eat but saltines. Sometimes he used a soupspoon and walked around outside sucking on a huge spoonful. Kenny thought that was disgusting. Kenny had more class. There was also a jar of Goober Grape in the cabinet that was almost as old as Jack. Kenny made sure that it stayed behind an old box of pasta, where no one could find it and claim it as edible.

Stretch Armstrong

Stretch Armstrong stood at 12 inches tall. A ninth birthday gift from Kenny's grandmother, purchased during an unsupervised trip to the mall, Kenny realized immediately that he was too old for the toy. He also knew that Stretch Armstrong was something he could make fun of for the benefit of his friends. Stretch had a muscleman's body and was made out of a super elastic material, which allowed you to stretch him to unimaginable lengths. You could tie his arms around his body or take his legs and extend them around his head. There wasn't much else you could do with Stretch Armstrong; He didn't fit in G.I. Joe clothes so Kenny was at a loss to conjure any relationship between the two action figures. You couldn't rip his limbs off. He did have a Stretch nemesis named Stretch Monster, who looked like the Creature From the Black Lagoon, but there was no way Kenny's mother was going to buy that for him and even if she did surprise him with the toy, there really was no way you could have the two dolls interact in any sort of meaningful way. Basically Stretch was just a big dumb doll that stretched out its limbs.

A couple of years later when Kenny figured out what to do with Stretch Armstrong--he would freeze him! There was nothing to do that day; Kenny was watching “Gargoyles” on Wade's ancient green-tinted television that looked like it should be hanging from a wall in a mental hospital. Wade was barely paying attention to the movie, which told the story of modern day gargoyles living in a cave in the desert. What was especially galling to Kenny is that it was only thing they could find to watch. “Superstars,” where athletes competed in athletic competitions, was on Channel 7. “The Big Valley,” starring a very young Lee Majors (“The Six Million Dollar Man”) was on 9. “Gargoyles” was on 11 and golf was on 2 and bowling on 4. They were sick of “Superstars,” especially since the baseball players they had heard of were such poor athletes compared to the football players who seemed to win all the competitions and take all the prizes, which turned out to be lame as well. And “The Big Valley” was this crappy western show that was so old and starred this old lady that nobody had ever heard have except Wade's mother who said she used to be a big movie star in the 40's. It was so boring. And who wanted to watch golf except old people who lived in Nebraska and drank Schaefer beer out of the can and ate beer nuts while their dogs sat at their feet

“Nazis,” Wade said. “People who own a lot of guns.”

They left Wade’s house and went to Kenny’s empty house. Wade followed him up into Jack's smelly room where they searched for the Stretch Armstrong doll amongst the mountains of crap.

“He's a messy boy,” Kenny said.

Wade picked up a paper bag.“There's about fifty Everlasting Gobstoppers in here,” he said.

“That's from his Communion money. Mom and Dad let him keep ten bucks of his Communion money and he bought ten dollars worth of candy at Rocco's. All he's got left is the Everlasting Gobstoppers.”

Wade put a handful of them in his pocket and Kenny spilled the rest of the bag on the floor. “He'll start crying when he sees this,” Kenny said.

Kenny and Wade went through Jack's drawers and looked under his bed. There was a pile of plastic army men mixed with his underwear, a Sorry! game with most of the cards and pieces missing and an empty box of Danish Go-Rounds under his bed. A box of Danish Go-Rounds had disappeared from the kitchen a couple of months before without Kenny even having one. “Remember when the Mannuchis brought a box of Danish Go-Rounds to Burger King and ordered cups of water and sat there and ate them?” Kenny asked Wade.

“No,” said Wade.

“I told you about that.”

“No you didn't.”

“I thought I did.” Kenny opened the closet and looked through all the clothes his brother never wore. He had a lot of sweaters and slacks--gifts from Kenny's grandmother. His mother said that little boys in Queens wore clothes like that to school. (Jack said that boys in Queens must be gay femmes.) He bent down, took a whiff of his brother's garbage bag full of laundry and almost puked. Then he saw Stretch Armstrong sticking out of one of Jack's snow boots. He took him out and dangled him in front of Wade. Wade was sucking on a gobstopper. “Do you think this is kosher?” Wade asked.

They went into the kitchen. Kenny wrapped Stretch in a paper bag and shoved him into the back of the freezer, behind a box of Jones sausages, a box of melting Double Dozen ice pops with all of the fudge, banana fudge and cherries missing, two metal ice trays that stuck to your skin, something wrapped tightly in foil that Kenny recognized as one of his father's mysterious leftovers that he saved for when the rest of the family ate something really good like McDonald's or pizza, a box of Mrs. Paul’s fish sticks that were at least a year old, and a box of Howard Johnson chicken croquettes. Kenny took out the chicken croquettes and showed them to Wade, who made a face. He took the Stretch Armstrong package and hid it behind the croquettes and the leftovers. “Now we have to wait,” he said.

Four months later, Kenny's mother discovered the strange package while cleaning out the refrigerator. “Kenny, what is this?” she asked.

Kenny pulled out the foil wrapped leftovers. “What’s this?” he asked.
“Dad’s leftovers.”

Kenny carried Stretch Armstrong outside. Jack and some friends were playing kickball in the street.

“I froze this in the freezer,” he said. “Now I'm going to break it.”

Jack and his friends surrounded Kenny as he threw Stretch Armstrong in the air. He returned to the Earth with a thud and broke in half. Kenny stomped on the doll, breaking its legs.

“He's like glass,” said Jack.

“I froze him.”

“Cool.”

Alex Chilton Fan Still Regrets Not Buying Box Tops Album When He Was 11

BROOKLYN, NY—Greg Scoff, associate editor at Stereo Review magazine and Alex Chilton fanatic, still regrets not buying a copy of a Box Tops LP he remembers seeing in the $1.99 bin in the record department of a Huntington, Long Island Woolco in 1977. “I still remember it like it was last week,” Scoff said. “I was flipping through this bin of records while my Mom was buying sneakers for my little brothers. There was this Box Tops album in the bin and I remembered picking it up and thinking to myself ‘what the hell is this?’ I put it back, thinking they were just a Beatles rip-off band or something.”

What Mr. Scoff didn’t realize at the time was that Alex Chilton was the lead singer of the ‘60s pop group. “I was only 11 year-old, what the hell did I know? I was into the Beatles and The Who at the time I hated all ‘70s music except for Cheap Trick.”
Scoff was a freshman at the State University of New York at Albany when he found a Big Star album in the record library at WCDB, the college’s radio station. “I remembered reading in Trouser Press that the guys in The Shoes really liked Big Star, So I put the record on and it was awesome. Then this guy at a used record store in downtown Albany told me that Alex Chilton was also the lead singer in the band that sang “The Letter.” He showed me the Box Tops album and I was like ‘holy shit!”

Scoff bought the album and immediately became one of Alex Chilton’s biggest fans. “Everybody is into Big Star and Alex Chilton now, but I heard the first Big Star album in 1984, so I’ve been into him longer than anybody I know...I mean, I was listening to ‘September Gurls’ a full year and a half before The Bangles covered it.”
Also a huge Jonathan Richman fan, Scoff thinks he remembers finding the first Modern Lovers album in a box at a flea market when he was twelve.

“I might be mixing it up with this dream I had where I’m at this flea market with my Dad and I found The Beatles’ “butcher cover” in a box full of Grand Funk and Three Dog Night albums, but I’m not sure. Even, if I did see the album, I was still a little kid and I didn’t have a paper route yet, so I didn’t have any money to spend on albums. Like there was this time when I was in a Sam Goody with my Dad and he was buying my Mom a Roberta Flack album and I almost asked him if he could buy me this Yardbirds album, but he was in a bad mood, so I didn’t.”

Still, Scoff regrets not getting the Box Tops album when he had the chance.

“If I had to do it over again, I would’ve bought the album in a second, even if I had to ask my mom for the money,” he said. “I mean, I could’ve been into Big Star a whole 8 years before I got to college!”

“I also would’ve bought this really cool coffee-table book about horror movies I was looking at,” Scoff added. “It had some really cool color stills from ‘50s and ‘60s Hammer films and stuff.”

Another Onion Parody

Last Little Old Lady Will Die Some Time in 2020

BOSTON, MA -- A study released today by the New England Council on Aging predicts that the last little old lady will die sometime at the beginning of the second decade of the 21st century.

Most of them will die from the effects of old age, said the council's director, Dr, Margaret Schoon.

Although most little old ladies moved to Florida and Arizona in the 1970's, the Census Bureau reports that there are still pockets of them in most suburbs and cities, giving local residents pause. "I saw one buying a yam and a box of plastic martini glasses in my supermarket last week," said Buzz Melville, 25, a Unix administrator and resident of New York's Greenwich Village. "She paid for the whole thing with pennies and nickels that she got from this little thing she called a 'change purse.' It was weird."

Their demise is not expected to affect the daily lives of most Americans, but many cultural observers believe that their disappearance will leave a huge gap, insisting that little old ladies have made lasting contributions to American society.

"No longer will you see small well-dressed white haired old women walk into a Burger King and order a 'hamburger sandwich' and a cup of tea," said Joshua Betrock, a Professor of Sociology at Ohio University, and the author of White Haired Mamas, a study of women who came of age before and during World War II. "We're losing a generation of women who baked pies from scratch, got their hair set once a week at the 'beauty parlor' and sewed gingham dresses from old fabric they had lying around the house."

"These were old ladies who grew up swooning to Hit Parade crooners like Bing Crosby, Rudy Vallee and Russ Columbo," Betrock added. "Aside from the occasional Elvis Presley or Beatle song, Rock and Roll scared them, and the screen idols of the post World War II period, like Marlon Brando, Montgomery Clift and James Dean made them want to puke."

"Every table and shelf in their living rooms were covered up with doilies and candy dishes...the hard candy industry is really going to reel from their demise."

Added Dr. Schoon. "There was this one little old lady in my neighborhood that subsisted entirely on Sherry and Circus Peanuts. At Halloween you were afraid to go to her house since she never went outdoors, even to walk her schnauzer. If you did go to her house to trick or treat, this old lady always gave you apples or pennies or unwrapped hard candy. My mother always said to be polite and say 'Thank You' even though once I got home I had to throw away the apples and the other unwrapped stuff."

Dr. Schoon predicts that former first ladies Lady Bird Johnson and Betty Ford, former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, socialite Brooke Astor, actress Kitty Carlisle Hart, and comediennes Phyllis Diller and Rose Marie will all die during the first wave of old lady deaths.

White Guys to Pay Tribute to Black Guy

NEW YORK, NY-- A distinguished panel of famous white guys, including novelists Pete Hamill and Norman Mailer, filmmakers Martin Scorsese, Woody Allen, Quentin Tarantino and Billy Crystal, and journalists Nat Hentoff, Studs Terkel, George Will and George Plimpton will pay tribute to a black guy who was famous in the '40s and '50s in a two-part four-hour documentary produced by Ken Burns. PBS will broadcast the program in the fall of 2006.

"From humble beginnings, this black guy enjoyed incredible success and unbelievable failure. More than anyone else, this black guy personified the American experience of the 20th century." Burns said.

Using film footage, television appearances, old photographs and reminiscences from family and friends, the film will follow this black guy's life from his impoverished childhood to his success and eventual downfall; including his troubles with the IRS, bankruptcy and multiple addictions including gambling, drugs and alcohol.

The black guy, who died penniless in the early '70s, is said to have influenced several generations of white guys. "This black guy wore the fanciest suits, drove the fastest cars and introduced a new kind of flash and style to a bland Eisenhower Era," said Pete Hamill, who once planned a biography of this black guy. "Whether it was getting in the ring with Sugar Ray Robinson, playing a set with Bird, going onstage with Brando or drinking the Rat Pack under the table...this black guy was always at the top of his game." Added Norman Mailer, who claims to have once head-butted the black guy at Toots Shors: "This black guy personified the existential crisis of the era." Joked Billy Crystal, who claims to have met one of the black guy's sons at a Muhammad Ali fight: "Me and Sheldon Greenblatt used to hang out in front of Green's Candy Store in Great Neck and try to do impressions of this black guy. Most of the time Sheldon won and I had to be content with imitating Mickey Mantle!" Cried Quentin Tarantino: "I wanted to cast this black guy in Pulp Fiction and then someone told me that he was dead. I was devastated." Interjected Martin Scorsese "There's a scene in Jacques Tourneur 's great 1947 film noir Out of the Past with Kirk Douglas and Robert Mitchum where Douglas offers Mitchum a cigarette and Mitchum, who is already smoking one says 'Smoking.' To me, that scene captures the essence of this black guy."

Random House will publish a hardcover companion to the documentary, which will also be available on VHS and DVD through Warner Home Video with a soundtrack CD to be released by Sony Music. Burns will also make a tour of universities and lecture halls to promote the program.