Deep Throat Inundated With Queries About Watergate, Cock-Sucking
WASHINGTON (DPI) — W. Mark Felt, the 91-year-old former
FBI official who recently revealed himself as the infamous
Deep Throat who brought down President Nixon, now
finds himself overwhelmed with questions about both
Watergate and fellatio techniques. "I came forward and
admitted that I was Deep Throat so that I could clear up one of
the great mysteries of American history," groused Felt.
"Instead, I'm fielding questions from every perv in the Western
world about swallowing semen and tea-bagging." Felt
expressed annoyance about being asked questions such as, "So
when did you realize that Nixon was involved?" or "Did you
ever fear for your life?" along with, "What's the biggest crank
you've ever smoked?" and "How do you keep from gagging?"
(Reported by Gus Harris)
Major Media "Kinda Remembers" Runaway Bride
ATLANTA (DPI) — In late April, media coverage of
Jennifer Wilbanks' alleged abduction was non-stop. Now that
she has been sentenced to two years' probation for filing false
police reports, Major Media is having trouble recalling her.
"Wilbanks? Hmm, sounds familiar," mused Media until
reminded of her nickname. "Oh, yeah — The Runaway Bride!
That was a fun three days, but seriously, she was just a
weekend thing." Media recalled suffering a dearth of
compelling headlines at the time and looking for a kidnapping
of a pretty, white tweener or teenage girl, preferably a blonde
from the rural South or Midwest. With its deadline fast
approaching, Media ultimately had to "grab what I could get,
knowutImsayin'?" Upon seeing photos of Wilbanks taken
during her trial, Major Media exclaimed, "Damn! Was her hair
always like that?"
(Reported by Lars Eisenberg)
Pornography Domain Suffix Squatted By LegitimateBusinesses
LOS ANGELES (DPI) — The Internet Corporation for
Assigned Names and Numbers (ICANN) recently approved a
number of new domain registries, including .xxx for
pornography. Predictably, a number of webmasters have begun
registering good porn addresses for legitimate business
purposes. One recently purchased domain, HotLezbos.xxx, will
soon be a website specializing in helping consumers save
money on hotel reservations. Numerous smut peddlers are
complaining to ICANN about this practice, warning that people
who may be innocently trying to find lesbian sex on the
Internet will instead stumble upon sites with tips on how to kill ants.
(Reported by Stuart Johnson)
Americans Shocked to Learn Deep Throat Is More of an Alto
Agent: "Christian (Slater) Is Happy He Can Still Get Arrested in This Town"
Gannon/Guckert Seeking Eager Woodward for Possible Deep Throat
Little League Dad Can't Believe His Third-Grade Son Is Such a Complete, Utter Fuck-Up
Jim Nabors' Voice to Be Kept Alive Cryogenically
Get Me The Hell Out of Florida!
A guest Probeatorial
by the Stanley Cup
Let me start out by congratulating the Tampa Bay Lightning
for a great 2003-04 season. I am proud to represent the players,
coaches and organization, and I serve my duty as their due
trophy with pride. But the year is over — so get me the hell out
Let's face facts here — I'm made out of silver. Living where it's
sunny, hot and humid every goddamned day just isn't for me.
Have you ever held a fistful of quarters in your hand for a few
hours then taken a whiff of your palm? That's me, buddy –
every friggin' day. If I had guts, I'd puke them out.
I never knew how unbearable this could get. I usually summer
in Detroit or Colorado, and by October it's nice and cool.
When I go on tour up there after Labor Day, the hands that
touch the names engraved into my sides don't smear all that
funky palm sweat into my crevices. Down in this godforsaken
swamp-infested peninsula, hairy-backed, tank-top wearing,
never-heard-of-Right-Guard sweatbags can molest me in
January just like July. My handler gives me so many alcohol
and disinfectant rubdowns here, I'm beginning to think of him
in ways I never thought I could think of a man — and frankly
that's starting to scare me.
Of all the years for the NHL to cancel a season, they pick the
one where I'm trapped in Florida. Do *I* have to stay down
here because *you* guys can't agree on a contract? I was
under the impression that I represent excellence in hockey —
that the best team in the world gets to carry me around each
and every year. Since there was no NHL champion this year,
why can't I be presented to the IIHF Hockey world champion
instead? I would think the team that wins a worldwide
competition featuring the best hockey players on Earth would
fit the whole "best hockey team in the world" bill, eh?
I realize that would put me in the Czech Republic, but I could
deal with that. The Czech Republic isn't infested with puck-
sized flying cockroaches, and it has a real winter. And don't
get me started on the "funny-Czech-name-engraving" bit
Nikolai Khabibulin won last year. His last name begins with a
silent "K" — you can't much more fucked up than that.
(Transcribed by Lars Eisenberg)
Today's Daily Probe Special Feature
Ask Runaway Bride Jennifer Wilbanks
We just had our second child last week. The oldest, who is two,
seems to be having trouble adjusting to the new baby. Any
Betty N., Fayetteville, NC
Children at that age are truly a joy. There is little better
than looking down at a baby in a crib, with those bright
wondering eyes, and knowing the elation that comes from
understanding that this infant is practically immobile and has
yet to obtain the power of speech. Scaling from the baby's
second-story window, backpack secured and bus ticket in hand,
will not illicit yelps of, "Mommy where are you going?" With
Dad sleeping in his La-Z-Boy downstairs, a clean getaway is
almost assured. Your 2-year-old, on the other hand, is far
trickier. If you come climbing down out of tree into your
backyard and are spotted, the toddler may treat it as a game and
come running out of the house to play with you. Fear not, at
that age they may appear to have some speed, but their legs are
little, tire easily, and a couple of sprints around the house will
leave them in the dust far before you dive into your car on the
way to the Greyhound station.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
My husband doesn't cook but still expects me to have meals
ready every day after I put in a long day at work. Any
Lisa E., Kansas City, MO
Here's a recipe I think you'll find helpful. It requires a brick,
scissors, glue, several magazines not from your home, and a
bus ticket. Before your husband gets home, simply use the
scissors and the magazine to cut letters out and fabricate a
ransom note (be sure to wear gloves and take those magazines
to the dump!) throw the brick through the window, and voilà,
your meal problems are solved.
(Transcribed by Davejames)