October 17, 2005

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Today's News

Bush: Terror, Terror, Terror!

WASHINGTON (DPI) - In what can only be called a remarkable speech in its format alone, President Bush gave a 50-minute address Thursday, although he only used five words. Chief among the words used was "terror," uttered an unprecedented 2,700 times. Only occasional references to "freedom," "hard work" and "Iraq" were used to fill the gap. Accordingly, Bush was forced to rely heavily on inflection to get his message across in lieu of variation. "Terror, terror, TERROR, terror, terror, terror, t-e-r-r-o-r" was typical of Thursday's address. Hoping to bump up flagging poll numbers, White House aides expressed cautious confidence Bush reminded the public of his "Terror president" status.

(Reported by Davejames)

Complex Words Stymie Simpleton's Fear

COLUMBUS, Ohio (DPI) - Jonathan Mulberry was slow to overreact to sensationalist media reports about a possible avian influenza pandemic. He attributed the 10-minute delay in illogical terror to the difficult words involved. "Okay, that word means flying creatures ... that means a disease and that means huge or widespread," Mulberry deduced after discovering a dictionary in his basement. "Gigantic flying disease?! Oh, shit!" Mulberry then went shopping for essential supplies to survive the potential catastrophe: duct tape, lumber and several cases of Miller High Life.

(Reported by Scott Haworth)

Atheist Weary of October's Religious Holiday Coworker Absenteeism

EUGENE, Ore. (DPI) - October features many religious holidays: Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, St. Theresa's Day, Our Lady of the Rosary, and Ramadan, for example. Though the religious community is active, accounting associate and self-avowed atheist Stan Tipton laments being even busier. "I understand the traditions. I appreciate the centuries of cultural history," said Tipton. "But holy shit, do these bastards have to make everything single occurrence a Saint Something's Day?" Tipton, who has studied religious practice from an anthropological perspective, said most observances do not require the faithful to forgo their jobs, "but try to tell my dullard supervisor that. His closed-minded Baptist ass doesn't believe word one that comes out of my atheist mouth, so all the believers get time off while my godless kiester is ass-deep in sales reports."

(Reported by Lars Eisenberg)


Karl Rove Stockpiling Cigarettes, Shivs

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road? To Wipe out Humanity With the Bird Flu

Hollywood Under Pressure to Appoint Woman as Next James Bond

Miers Has Full Backing of Immediate Bush Family

China Sends Two Astronauts Into Space; Food Delivery To Space Station Expected by 2010

Another Celebrity Dies While Your Bloated, Cheetos-Eating, Couch-Potato Ass Lives


We Want You to Ponder While You Vomit

A guest Probeatorial

Last week we sent out hundreds of volunteers wearing prosthetic naked buttocks which looked bloodied and beaten to a pulp. This was to illustrate how wool-producing sheep are being mistreated. We could have passed out pamphlets, held public forums or even picketed. But it's not enough to make you think about animal rights; we have to make you puke about animal rights.

Anyone can see a display on the mistreatment of seals and walk on by, forgetting about it quickly. But if we can get just one person to stop in front of our booth to vomit because they are covered in "guts" exploding from a very life-like baby seal getting beaten to death, then we are starting to get somewhere. We pass out our "no fur" sick bags, wipe their mouths with the "Save the Whales" handkerchiefs, and rinse the puke out of their mouths from one of our "Don't Eat Chicken" water bottles and really give them something to think about.

And there are indirect advantages as well. There is not a PETA volunteer alive who can't tell you one hopeful story of a person trying to dodge our demonstration and slipping in puke. Lying there gives them an eye- and earful of our cause and plenty to ponder as they are waiting for the paramedics to come treat their head wounds. And for every person who arrives at home, work or the dry cleaners with a vomit-covered garment, word of our struggle spreads that much further.

Yes, our volunteers wear other people's sick like a badge of honor. Come back to the headquarters as if you've been diving in a swimming pool of gak, and we know you're a hero. They say the way to the heart is through the stomach. No one believes that more than we do here at PETA.

(Transcribed by Davejames)

Today's Daily Probe Special Feature

Ask Zarxnol

The premier child psychologist on his home planet
Xargolia before being called to the service of his
Warrior-God Xargol as a conqueror of lesser worlds, Zarxnol
happilly adresses the child-raising concerns of our readers.

Dear Zarxnol,

Our Tony is such a little bully. Hardly a day goes by when we don't find something else in his room he stole from another kid he beat up. We really have no idea where he got this tendency -- we're easy-going people and we've never done anything out of the ordinary, parenting-wise. Zarxnol, what can we do to get him to calm down? We are truly at our wits' end!

Frazzled in Freeport


Perhaps prolonged exposure to the scarcity of nitrogen in the atmosphere of this silly solar satellite has tinged my auditory capacities. Your son instigates battles, emerges victorious, collects his due spoils, and you ask me to advise you how to make him cease such actions? Am I to believe the Freeport Zleds are calling upon the wisdom and experience of the great Xargolian conqueror-in-waiting in order to dissuade their young warrior from engaging in the practices and rituals of a champion? 

Timid feculence! Clearly, a gladiator-to-be the caliber of your Tony requires more befitting upbringing than your easy-going and ordinary tutelage could ever afford. It is manifestly obvious that Tony need quit your wretched diffidence and align himself with the sole true conqueror currently residing on this pathetic planet Earth: Zarxnol, Xargolian Warrior. 

It is in your best interest that I request Tony be delivered unto my immediate guardianship -- you, Fraz, are clearly incapable of controlling a dominant and dour dynamo such as your son. There can be only two outcomes should you insist your laughably ineffectual parenting continue: (1) Tony eventually recognizes you as the plush pushover of a patsy you are and acts appropriately, commandeering you, your assets, and whatever piffling energy you strive to garner and laughably call "strength"; or (2) his aggressiveness will outpace his wisdom in such a manner that he will be incarcerated, where infinitely larger and more violent men will redesignate his dookie chute as their lascivious quarry. Surrender your son to his proper preceptor and replace him with a charge more commensurate to your caretaking capacity -- an elderly and flatulent three-legged schnauzer, perhaps.

  I await the bantam barbarian Tony Zled and anticipate his apprenticeship in the service of His Infinite Hepteated Might Xargol. The promising young warrior shall be groomed in the ways of a proper dominator and trained with and by the forces organizing and eventually comprising my Armies From the Sea. Young Zled shall be trained as to be the single most powerful human fighter in Earth's heretofore feeble history -- no human will ever has been his greater!

And when my Armies From the Sea verily kick his little tuchus in preparatory battle, I know the rest of you maladroit monkey men will be run through as would moistened toilet tissue when cleaved with a greataxe.

Submit, Human Insects!


Send your questions to Zarxnol at: Zarxnol@DailyProbe.com

(Translated by Carl Knorr)

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