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June 20-24,
2005


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June 20, 2005



Today's News


Concert's Coolness Inversely Proportional to Number of "Special" Attendees

LOS ANGELES (DPI) — In a major breakthrough for live music and special ed, UCLA researchers have proven what concertgoers have long suspected: The lamer the band at an outdoor festival, the higher the percentage of drooling group home residents in attendance. "We found that audiences at Wilco and Modest Mouse shows consisted almost entirely of overly hip but high-functioning individuals. But concerts given by golden oldie cover bands and runners-up from the 2003 season of American Idol consisted largely of Special Olympians." Landry insists that the study's findings will be invaluable to indie music snobs. "If a hipster sees a shitload of handi-accessible short buses parked at a concert venue, they'll know to get the hell out of there before they're caught on film by the local TV news."

(Reported by Gus Harris)


Felonious Derelicts Waiting for Weather to Break Before Horrifying Nation

INDIANAPOLIS (DPI) — The recent wave of oppressive heat and humidity has taken a toll on the local psychotic miscreant community. "After an eight-hour shift of groundskeeping in this heat, I just don't have the energy to assault and mount anything other than a six-pack and my couch," said local granny rapist Jimmy T. A disgruntled factory worker revealed via an anonymous letter that his heavily armed murderous rampage in response to an unrequited office romance has been delayed due to the unseasonably warm weather. His guns are black and metal, so leaving them to rest in the back of his pickup in the sun until the time is right would make his "instruments of justice" too hot to touch, even through his fingerprint- obscuring work gloves.

(Reported by Carl Knorr)




Awkward Silence Ended by Awkward Conversation

DENVER, Colo. (DPI) — Jerry Hall was reportedly "freaked out" by the comments of longtime friend Billy Westington while the pair was driving to a local bar Sunday evening. They had at first chatted about the imminent release of "Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas" for the PC, but a lull in the conversation rapidly devolved into an awkward silence. After several minutes of uncomfortable quiet, Westington blurted out, "Yeah, so, your sister's pretty hot." He paused briefly to examine the disgusted look on Hall's face before saying, "What? I know she's still in high school, but she was wearing that little tank top when I came over the other day. Damn, she looked good." Hall turned his head back to the road and was relieved several minutes later when they arrived at their destination and began drinking heavily.

(Reported by Scott Haworth)


Headlines


Serial Child Molester Had More Sex Per Week Than I Have Per Decade

Cruise Exes: Run, Katie, It's a Trap!

Emboldened Scientologists Challenge Kabbalists to Celebrity Grudge Match

Bush Remains Popular Among Immediate Family Members

Rain Forest Leveled to Construct Rain Forest Café

Schwarzenegger Dismisses California Earthquakes as "Girly"






Teddy Ruxpin to Return to Stores in September: Why, God, Why?!

NEW YORK (DPI) — The nether realms of Hell have spewed forth another tool of infant conscription into Satan's Army — a horror that those who survived the 1980s remember with a shudder and nervous tic: Teddy Ruxpin.

"Ruxpin, which debuted as a Worlds of Wonder toy in 1985, is due to relaunch in September, most notably in 2,000 Target stores," said Adweek.com's Deanna Zammit. "MP3 cartridges have replaced his original cassette tapes, but Teddy Ruxpin's animatronic eyes and mouth will move in trademark fashion as he narrates a series of stories about the land of Grundo."

Those eyes! Those hypnotic, entrancing, soul-defilingly evil eyes will once again be unleashed on a generation of innocents as Ruxpinophiles return to regale unsuspecting youths with delightfully spun tales of Grundo, a land now known to be on the far side of the fetid waters of the Styx — the Fifth Circle of Hell.

The advertising campaign for this Second Unholy Coming of Teddy will be geared toward the weakest-willed and least suspicious — grandparents and children. The children's pleas will be deafening, and the grandparents' unwitting compliance with The Dark One's marching orders shall be absolute. The only hope — for your family, for your children's souls, for the existence of humanity as anything other than an eternally damned slave race of demonic drones — is to secure Teddy Ruxpin in a soundproof tomb throughout the night in order to dampen his subconscious summoning of your very flesh and blood unto the calling of The King of All Lies.

God has truly forsaken us. Humanity now stands alone in her unending war with El Diablo.


(Reported by Carl Knorr)





Today's Daily Probe Special Feature


Musing With Mitch  

by Mitchell Kobriger  

Mitchell Kobriger


I think North and South Carolina should put aside their differences and become Carolina again.

When choosing a highlighter, I pick yellow every time. Can't say why, though.

Does anybody still sell buggy whips? I sure could use one.

Hey scientists: Now that you've mastered seedless watermelons, can someone get to work on seedless strawberries?

I like calendars. They remind me what day it is.

Let's just get this out in the open. I have no plans to see the new Star Wars movie. I don't like my carrots touching my mashed potatoes, so why the hell would I put up with my science touching my fiction?

Idea! Someone will make a gazillion bucks if they market some small closet hooks that will hold those nub-ended "theft-proof" hangers from hotel rooms.

Pound for pound, Zachary Taylor was our greatest president.

There are two things I have on my person at all times: a toenail clipper in my pocket and a song in my heart.

If it weren't for his outstanding hair, I'd be compelled to write off Russell Crowe as a complete jerk.

I don't know what a hemi is, but I'll bet my Yugo doesn't have one.

My favorite peanuts? Dry roast, honey-glazed and Linus. But not necessarily in that order.

Not to bring anyone down, but the statistics suggest we are long overdue to lose another Beatle.

Hey, mailman! Where's my Victoria's Secret catalogue, in the post office bathroom?

The world would be a lot more interesting if wing-tips actually bestowed the power of flight on the wearer.







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