Author Archives: db234

Brooklyn – Paramedics rushed to a vintage VHS rental store in Williamsburg today, but arrived too late to save the leg of curator Cole Stanton. “Thought it was just asleep,” Mr. Stanton lamented as they wheeled him out.

An EMT described the leg as “gangrenous and cadaverous,” and said Mr. Stanton was lucky to be alive. Friends reported that Stanton had not changed pants since a Bon Iver concert last summer.

“They were his favorite blues,” paperclip artist Trip Anderson confirmed. The Second Skin signature denim jeans retail for three hundred dollars and are available in three sizes: skinny, anorexic, and Christian Bale in The Machinist.

“We got him up a ladder, lubed the legs, and he jumped in,” Mr. Anderson continued. “They looked swag.”

Doctors warn that while amputation is rare, skinny jeans can also cause serious nerve damage if the thigh is compressed. “If you are experiencing tingling and numbness, you may suffer from a condition known as meralgia paresthetica,” Doctor Peter Venkman said. “You may also be a complete tool.”

Asked why Mr. Stanton only exhibited symptoms in one leg, Dr. Venkman indicated that while probing to determine muscle tone and skeletal girth, he detected significant development in the right quadriceps. “Very unusual for hipsters, unless they skateboard.”

Mr. Stanton, 45, confirmed that he skates to work every day, pushing with his right leg. Lying in the surgical recovery room, he worried that his shredding days were over. But then he lifted up the sheet and smiled. Instead of a modern metal prosthetic, there was an unusual carved wooden leg.

“Hand-made in Brooklyn,” Mr. Stanton beamed. “Old board-walk planking from Coney Island. It’s totally vintage!”

New York – Thousands of soda drinkers will slowly walk one hundred yards to the Mayor’s office tomorrow to protest the city ban on large size sodas which goes into effect Tuesday. Several hundred were already camped today at City Hall Park, the starting line for the “march,” sitting on strained lawn chairs, coolers filled with forbidden colas.

“Wait til I get my sausage fingers round his Commie neck,” Hank Gathers warned, sucking neon yellow up a tube from a custom “Dew bladder” down his pants. “I can put whatever I want in my dang mouth,” he continued. “It’s Constitution, like reverse freedom of speech.”

Tex Hooper agreed. “I ain’t about to start drinkin’ that shit they put on plants. Get me some Brawno or Surge, sixty four ounce, breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Organizers of the “Liquid Courage” protest say 30,000 soda drinkers are expected to march to the Mayor’s office, where a White Castle buffet will be available at the finish line, thanks to a generous gift from the Soda and Sugared Beverage Association of America. “We’re coming for you, Mr. Nanny Mayor,” spokesman Seamus Azucar said.

“They’ll have to catch me first,” the Mayor japed, jogging in spandex at a morning press conference. “People don’t know what’s good for them,” he continued, raising the treadmill incline to thirty degrees. “Three hundred pound flesh bags out there, just waiting to fall through a subway grate. It’s disgusting.”

But protesters insist sixteen ounces cannot quench their thirst. “I like my soder like my women. Sweet, dark, and large, know what I mean,” Mr. Hooper said. “Gimme some ice cold black gold Pepsi, and none of that crystal swill.”

Cruising at 10mph, the Mayor sipped a bottle of snow-melt from the Himalayas, and explained that surging waistlines will inevitably lead to soaring health costs. He previewed the next phase of his controversial S.L.O.B. Initiative with a smile. “No more Mayo. It’s white death in a jar. And it tastes like old jizz.”

UPDATE: despite a judge’s ruling, protesters were still planning to march on City Hall. “I didn’t go and put sweat-pants on for nothing,” Mr. Gathers said.

Vatican City – Hours after announcing his intention to resign the papacy, Benedict XVI released a cryptic message calling his flock to St. Peter’s Square. As the clock struck midnight, spotlights blazed across the Sistine Chapel and black smoke billowed out of the chimney. An ear-splitting guitar thundered from above, as if played by God himself.

Benedict XVI stepped into the light, his hat gone, hands flying over a double-neck Fender Stratocaster. After an epic ten minute solo, he finally spoke.

“For those about to rock, I pray for you.”

Two men appeared at his side, and Benedict XVI introduced former Pantera members Phil Anselmo and Vinnie Paul. “We’re getting the band back together,” Benedict XVI declared. “We are Satan’s Nightmare!”

They launched into the single “Demons be Driven,” rocking the old sacred city so hard this reporter’s heart thrummed with the bass, or perhaps God’s love. And then they were gone, leaving St. Peter’s Square and the metal world in a state of extreme purgatory.

But a press release soon followed. Satan’s Nightmare will be joining American thrash metal group Slayer on a European tour immediately, with Benedict XVI playing under his given name, Joseph “Rat Nasty” Ratzinger.  The band’s sound, Mr. Nasty promised, will blend “classic heavy metal, extended shredding, and liturgical lyricism,” with a nod to his German roots. “You know Rammstein, not Scorpions,” he joked. “They should be crucified for that pussy Hurricane song.”

An album is slated for summer release: “And Communion for All.”

Even as the first pope to resign in almost six hundred years, the ex-pontif explained the decision was easy. “I want people to actually listen,” he smiled. “And the groupies aren’t so bad either.”

Washington – Christmas came early today for the American government when the White House received six credit card balance transfer checks in the mail, with 0% APR for 18 months. President Obama immediately signed one for an undisclosed amount and sent it off to the Treasury Department.

“We’re building a bridge off the fiscal cliff,” Mr. Obama declared. “We must not look down, but keep our eyes focused ahead and move forward.”

Lawmakers had been scrambling since House Speaker Boehner’s Plan B failed to win sufficient support to reach the floor Thursday. The bill would have preserved tax cuts for all except those earning $1 million dollars or more—less than 1% of Americans, but almost 50% of Congress.

Members of the Mayan Tea Party caucus apparently joined the opposition, although it was unclear if they were keeping their sacred pledge to Grover Norquist or actually believed the world was going to end Friday.

Plan C was the only option left. According to sources, Treasury Secretary Geithner had been “ransacking” the White House looking for old balance transfer checks and waiting every day at the mailbox for new ones. But administration officials believed the Bank of China had finally caught on to the sixteen credit card accounts the U.S. maintains under various fictitious names.

“The shell game goes on,” one official said with evident relief. “With autopay for the monthly minimums, we can play this out until the next administration.”

Mr. Geithner reportedly carries the “revenue” cards in his wallet at all times, the huge bulge in his back pocket giving him a booster seat at Cabinet meetings.

And it may get bigger. The Treasury Department has started online applications for new accounts at banks including Citi, HSBC, and JP Morgan Chase. “You should see the limits they’re offering,” the official smiled.

Critics are calling Plan C the latest step in the slide toward a Santa Clause government. “We can’t keep borrowing money to give everybody gifts,” said Clark W. Griswold. “You know, I’d like a family swimming pool under the tree, but it’s not gonna happen. Not without my bonus.”

Speaker Boehner promised that Congress would get to work on a real fiscal solution–just as soon as they returned from three weeks Christmas vacation.

New York – They staggered up debris-strewn Sixth Avenue, eyes sunken and disheveled, dragging power cords and repeating a low guttural chant. “Juice…coffee.” The horde overran a Starbucks at 40th Street, quaffing cappuccinos until there was only coffee, and then licking the filters dry as employees fled in terror. Dozens of power strips daisy-chained from a single outlet, until the circuit blew, the horde howled in fury, and then moved on.

“I need to update my Facebook status!” George Romero moaned, a dead I-Pad in his filthy hands.

With power out below 39th Street for much of Manhattan, New Yorkers are confronting their worst fears: internet loss and introspection.

“Without reality tv and social media, all I can hear are my own thoughts,” Laurie Holden said, waiving her phone in the air for a signal. “I’m in a really dark place.”

Consolidated Edison assured residents they were working on the problem, but that union rules prohibited more than two hour shifts.

Earlier in the day, there was widespread looting at Radio Shack and Dunkin Donuts locations, and several Chinese food delivery men reportedly failed to return from bike trips downtown.

Bruce Campbell was holed up in his penthouse condo overlooking Madison Park, a sniper scope trained on the line waiting for Shake Shack to open. A portable generator purred beside him. “Death. Darkness. Just another day at the office. Hail to the king baby.”

At other luxury towers, doormen have been authorized to use deadly force to repel marauders. And some concerned citizens are calling for a wall at 40th Street and the creation of a “forbidden zone.”

Mayor Bloomberg officially suspended habeas corpus and declared karate law. At a mid-day press conference, he demonstrated a series of lightning fast moves. “I wish everyone would  stay home and read a book, but let’s get real. A good chop to the neck will deter. A roundhouse kick will incapacitate.”

As night fell upon the city, Ms. Holden sent one last tweet before her phone died. “I didn’t even have time to hash-tag,” she complained. Then she rejoined the horde and slowly headed north.

New York – Robin Sanders emerged from Ricky’s Costume Superstore late Saturday with her purchase held high like a trophy. “I got Bin Laden!” she shouted to the shoppers waiting in line. “Let’s party.”

Store employees confirmed it was the very last Sexy Bin Laden costume left in New York.

The former number one most wanted terrorist is now the number one best selling female costume in America, just ahead of slutty Big Bird. The costume features a life-like beard and applique “kill shot” wounds for the head, chest, or as the instructions say, “anywhere at all!” The $79.99 ensemble also includes a head scarf, mesh halter top, and a bikini bottom emblazoned with Al-Qaeda in bold letters. Informed that Al-Qaeda was Arabic for “the base,” Ms. Sanders insisted she was drawing the line at third for the night. “I’m not a total hobag,” she said. “I’m sexy.”

Critics have condemned the costume for bad taste, but some conservatives see a darker conspiracy at work. Bates Norman, author of the popular political blog Red Meat Cleaver, believes President Obama is in fact behind the costume. “Why do you think there’s a movie about the raid coming out a week before the election? President Hollywood pulling strings. And the costume industry is in the tank for Obama.”

Ricky’s store employees reported that Obama and Romney masks were both selling poorly, but that a combination mummy/drone victim costume was doing brisk business.

Mr. Norman insists it was First Lady Michelle Obama who field-tested the Sexy Bin Laden costume. “Before the first debate, on Air Force One, it was a prototype,” Mr. Norman confided. “They got it on bigtime. My source says the whole plane was thumping all the way to Denver. And it wasn’t no turbulence. Why do you think he stunk up the joint so bad? Two words. Post-coital stupor.”

White House spokesman Jay Carney dismissed the costume conspiracy theory, but refused to discuss what happened on Air Force One, stating that “Governor Romney is the only one into role-playing.”

Skip Sanchez didn’t care where the costume came from or why it was so popular. Dressed all in black as a member of Seal Team Six, Mr. Sanchez was confident in his mission. “I’m getting Bin Laid.”

Looking around the bar, his friend Trip McNeely admitted it was surreal seeing a cleavage spilling mastermind of 9/11 grinding up on a man garbed as South Korean gangam style sensation Psy. “But that’s America,” Mr. McNeely said, putting back on his Darth Vader helmet and adjusting his assless leather chaps. “We can’t let the terrorists win.”

New York – Straight out of Tehran, there’s a new name in the rap game: Eazy-A. Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad announced today at the General Assembly that his debut album, Nuclear Beatz, will be available “very soon.” Ahmadinejad urged “cool people” to check out his myspace page.

Ahmadinejad clarified that his earlier reported call for a New World Order was actually a mistranslated shout out to his crew, N.W.O, which consists of Syrian President and Opthamologist Bashar “The Doctor” al-Assad and North Korean man-child Kim “Special K” Jong-un.

The MC apologized to fans for the delay, explaining that the Stuxnet virus had wiped out his MacBook Pro, in addition to computers at Iranian nuclear facilities. Ahmadinejad also accused the United States of using harsh economic sanctions to stop Nuclear Beatz from “going off the charts.”

When his allotted time expired, Ahmadinejad grabbed the mic and proceeded to “spit fire” at the General Assembly, free-styling against Zionists, NFL replacement refs, and New York traffic, and challenging President Obama to an “old-school battle rap.”

Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu condemned the new album as “hate speech” and threatened to “take out” Ahmadinejad’s underground recording studio. “Hammer time,” Netanyahu warned.

But Ahmadinejad insists his music is more West Coast than Middle East. “Just chilling smooth,” he said in an interview with Vibe Magazine. “It’s about barbecues every day, driving fancy cars, testing missiles, and stoning women, you know, having fun.”

Temple, OK – Large Marge Walker doesn’t negotiate. She listened to the man’s sad story, patted her pregnant belly, and offered him five bucks for the antique gold watch, take it or leave it. As the man slinked out with the single bill, Executive Producer Sean Gannon gave her two big thumbs up.

Large Marge stars in the new TLC series Preggo $Pawn, now the seventeenth reality show set in a pawn shop, joining such breakout hits as History Channel’s Pawn Stars, TruTV’s Hardcore Pawn, and Disney’s Kiddie Pawn.

TLC, formerly known as the Learning Channel, adds Preggo $Pawn to its Fat Tuesday lineup, featuring Hoarders: Of Cheetos, Sumo Toddlers & Tiaras, and Say Yes to the Huge Dress.

“We are reality!” beamed channel president Skip Tracy.

“People got stuff,” Large Marge explained. “Sometimes I give ’em money for it. Sometimes I don’t.”

And there is still room for more pawn shows, according to industry insider Chester Maxwell. “It’s not the premise,” Maxwell said. “It’s the personalities. People want to watch weirdos.”

On Preggo $Pawn, Large Marge carries on a constant dialogue with her fetus while cursing customers and her ne’re-do-well husband, Muddy “Noodle” Walker, himself a regular on Discovery Channel’s Hillbilly Handfishin’.

However, some see the glut of pawn shows as symptomatic of something else: economic decline.

“Pawn shops are the banks of last resort,” said Professor Keith Moon. “It’s the end of the road.”

Indeed, that road runs through several other reality shows, from out of work compulsive Hoarders, to desperate shoppers on Extreme Couponing, foreclosed squatters on Betting the House, and homeless defaulters on Storage Wars.

“That’s synergy!” exclaimed Skip Tracy. “It’s beautiful.”

Additional new shows in the so-called “recession” reality genre include Bankruptcy Busters, Credit Card Roulette, Eviction Men, and Extreme Makeover: Hobo Edition.

Large Marge doesn’t care why people watch. In fact, she doesn’t own a TV, despite the half dozen sitting on her shelves. “Grab ass waste of time,” she said. “Rather be knocking boots.”

But Gannon the show’s producer has an idea. “Schadenfraude sells,” he declared. “We bring the voyeur what they really want to watch, the misfortune of others.”

With the economy showing no signs of improvement, recession reality appears here to stay. TLC is already trumpeting a new primetime summer slate including Extreme Food Stamps!, Hoarders: Homeless Shelters, and Soup Kitchen Nightmares with Gordon Ramsay, along with a new slogan.

“It’s not TV,” Skip Tracy smiled. “It’s reality.”

New York – “We must put down the fast food and put our hands on the wheel, ten and two, and set a course for safety,” the Mayor declared, standing before an assortment of organic lettuce wraps.

The Mayor’s Office released statistics today showing more than half of city car accidents involve hand-held comestibles. On Saturday morning, three men were seriously injured when the driver of a minivan lost control just blocks from a popular midtown Halal truck.

“There was white sauce, hot sauce, and rice everywhere,” reported Officer Edward Ramirez. “It smelled fantastic.”

“Driving while eating is driving reckless,” said Traffic Safety Commissioner Paul Stevens. “Even a slice of pizza is dangerous. A large two-hand burrito reduces your reaction time more than a dozen alcoholic beverages. If the burrito loses tortilla integrity, catastrophe is statistically inevitable.”

However, some critics see the prohibition as another heavy-handed intrusion on individual rights under the guise of public health. Bloomberg has previously proposed banning the sale of plus size sodas and other sugary beverages as part of his S.L.O.B. initiative. The critics dismiss any safety concerns.

“What you think knees are for?” asked veteran cabbie Jimmy “The Jet” Smith. “I can cruise better with one leg, saucing a dog and reading the Post, than some tourist from Yonkers. Don’t mess with a man’s wheels.”

Livery driver Kenny “Cheese” Masters agreed. “I ain’t sitting down for no Nobu, know what I’m saying. I got a Foreman riding shotgun with Velveeta and white. In this game, you stop driving, you start dying.”

Commissioner Stevens assured drivers certain small packaged foodstuffs will still be permitted. “You can always have a nice Nutri-Grain Bar,” he said.

“Nutri-what?” exclaimed Masters. “When I get hungry, you know I lose my shit. Like I might eat someone’ s face off.”