IDIJAMAMA, ZIMBABWE – Just last week, Zimbabwean government passed a legislative act outlawing “the possession, use, and/or distribution of marijuana and/or marijuana products.” This landmark new law is tremendously momentous for two reasons. For one, I’m pretty sure Zimbabwe doesn’t have a government. Secondly, the act of legislation singlehandedly ceased the persistent dilemma of starvation for the country.

Apparently, Zimbabweans had consumed so many marijuana drugs that they just had the munchies all the time. Said newly sober Idijamama resident Tyreek Mutzumbo, “You know, maybe we shoulda thought of this long ago. Now we have plenty of food. I mean we do live in the jungle after all. When we said starving, we really just meant that we could use a McDonald’s or two around here.”

Now you, amongst ignorant others, might be asking yourself, “What does this have to do with me?” Then again you only bought your “Save Darfur” T-Shirt because you thought it said “Save Ferris” (Who is Darfur?). In actuality, this has everything to do with you. This recent upturn in Zimbabwean society should prove to have a grand effect on American culture. A recent study showed that 90% of white Americans attempt to emulate black culture in order to make themselves seem cool. If you don’t believe me, take a look at all the Deerfield High students wearing Air Force ones while raising the roof to some Lil’ Wayne. No ceilings! How else do you think Barack Obama is going to bring “Change?” He doesn’t have a super majority, but he as a super cool culture.

Now that marijuana has seen a sharp decline in African culture, expect its popularity to immensely decrease in the United States. And don’t expect McDonald’s to stay in business much longer. Now, finally, we can go to Burger King like I always suggest to my friends. And I can eat my food as wastefully as I please, without arrogant, self-proclaimed “philanthropists” expecting me to ship my leftovers to the starving kids in Africa.

DEERFIELD, IL – Osama Bin Laden was found hiding on the dance floor this past weekend at the Deerfield High School turnabout. When asked how he chose his hiding place, Bin Laden simply responded, “I figured it was the last place anyone would be seen.”

Deerfield High School Administration celebrated when students turned Bin Laden in to local security guards. “I just can’t believe it! Here at our very own dance, we get to witness history. Students! Real Students! Dancing, even!” stated Principal Audrey Gryffindor.

The impressive turnout at the dance can largely be attributed to the fact that there is quite simply, “Nothing else to do in Deerfield,” as local Junior David Goldberg stated. Amongst other reasons for attendance were school spirit, social rebellion, and forced attendance by angry parents who refuse to support the immaturity of teens who skip the dance to have fun.

After Bin Laden was captured, he was willing to confess his former hiding places in hopes of mercy from the American Government, which still claims that waterboarding is not torture. Apparently the terrorist felt that remote caves were to obvious, and instead resorted to deserted social locations. Amongst other locations, Northbrook Court and Brunswick Zone were cited as temporary hideouts for Bin Laden immediately preceding his appearance at turnabout. Bin Laden stated no regrets, other than his apparel choice to the dance. When asked for further information, he stated, “I had no idea what semi-formal meant! I wasn’t sure if that meant there would be a compromise on the food or the clothing.” Bin Laden’s choice of a tuxedo t-shirt was ineffective at helping him hide.

Horray! I love coming to this place! There are never any bombs and always stuff to eat. I love eating! One time, I was— hold on. What am I doing here again? Oh, right. Bombs. Gotta find bombs. But I don’t smell any. Maybe if I pretend that I’m onto something I will still get a treat at the end. Oh boy, I sure hope I get a treat! I loves treats… wait. I smell something… Nope, Officer Patrick just farted again. He better not blame this one on me too.
I think we have something here. Yes we do! Down the hall! Better run!!! I WAS RIGHT! It’s an empty Gatorade bottle! Jackpot. I am such a good boy. Dang it, they wanted bombs. I forgot.
Well that was some hard-hitting police work. I better take a break and chase my own tail for a while. I… almost… got… ouch! Who bit me?! Okay. No time to figure that one out. I need to find some bombs. I think there is a half-eaten mozzarella stick on the other side of the school. I better run to get it like it is a bomb.
Got it! No, I will not spit it out! I found it! Get your own! Oh I see how it is. Well we’ll how you like it when I’m mad at you.
I forgive you! You’re my best friend. Let’s never fight again.
Is that a ticking noise I hear? I think it is. What am I supposed to do again? We trained for this. Ticking noise means… play dead? That doesn’t sound right. I got it! Ticking noise means bomb and bomb means treat. Run to the treat! Run to the treat! Run to the— drippy faucet. Ooo! Some gum! No, I will not spit it out.

The Edgewood Drawbridge, ED for short, is super strong and flaccid. One onlooker was heard to have said, “That bridge gives me a raging boner.” The Flipside would just like to echo that sentiment as the ED has a beautiful shaft and a particularly strong head. The ED is ready to ride anything that crosses its path or let things ride it. That’s what he said.

ED constructers held nothing back, letting the project explode all over the place. They cut nothing out; they left the bridge uncircumcised. The one complaint is a slight concern about durability. Some wonder about the ED’s lasting power, considering the chubby design of the hinge. The other issue is not so much function as form. There seems to be black algae sprouting around the balls of the bridge, the ingenious spheres that speed up the reproduction of the drawbridge. This hair-like algae is likely to be trimmed, except during the winter when it is used to keep the bridge warm.

Despite the controversy, the ED, Edgewood’s purple headed warrior, is set to open today. Chief foreman Johnson “Johnny” Johnson had the final words. “He may be slow to rise, but he carries quite the load.”

NORTHBROOK, IL—I’ve only been following this media frenzy from across town, but come on guteenagerrrrys. From what I’ve heard this whole deal with the Angels in America play or book or whatever is just so gay.
I mean it’s just a book. Like who cares anyway whether or not these people read it? I don’t care. Honestly though, the way these NSSA people have handled this whole thing is just really gay. Like I can buy porn or whatever if I’m eighteen and so it’s not even like a book is like that or nearly as bad.
Seriously, it’s so gay that they made this into a huge issue. No one in the classroom objected to it, so is it even their part to tell them what to read? That is really just lame by them.
I mean I’m not one to call everyone out, but I know when people make a mess out of nothing. And this was it. Dude I have more homework now anyways, so I cant even finish this. Wow, so gay.

I’ll tell you what boys of Deerfield, if you are looking for a great looking sandwich with an even better looking waitress, The Cubby Bear is the place to be. I mean, that place just seems to be crawling with young, football-loving hotties. In fact, my waitress there the other night was so hot, I forgot to order. The only thing that would come out my mouth was saliva as I drooled over our stunning server. Men, I’ll tell you, there’s nothing better than a buffalo chicken sandwich brought out to you by a girl way too hot to be your girlfriend. Some may call it depressing, but I just call it football.

By Diego Goldfarb

Salt Lake City, UTAH—Dennis Colby, 44, who was just hired as an apprentice janitor at Hogle Zoo has inspired many area residents with his persistent faith in “the man upstairs.”

“No matter what happens in my life,” explained Colby as he learned to sweep up monkey feces, “I know that the good lord is always looking out for me.”

Colby, who has experienced many hardships in his life, including losing his wife and child in a freak lightning accident during a massive storm, maintains his optimism and considers such accidents to be part of “the lord’s great plan.”

“The lord was bowling and he happened to get a strike,” said Colby as he lay on his ‘Covenant Cot’ after a long day of observing the higher paid janitors mop spilled diet Pepsi at the food court and hold tissues for sneezing panda bears.

Colby has inspired so many because he has made the most of such menial, demeaning labor. “Did Noah complain every time he had to clean up hippo vomit? Well I am Noah, and this is my ark.”

Substitue Teacher Chuck JonesWith whistle and clipboard in hand, first-time substitute P.E. teacher Chuck Jones showed up to the Exhibition Gym with a mission. “I’m going to change these kids’ lives,” he said to himself as he confidently walked in. Those were lofty ambitions considering he was only substituting for one day while the teacher was home sick. However, if there was ever a man for the job, he was it. Or at least he thought he was. “I did some assistant coaching down at the Y for my son Connor’s hockey team, and I’ve recently spent a lot of time down at the rec center teaching jump shots to differently-abled foster children.”

“I think I’m prepared to handle this,” he said, with a blaze of healthy self-assurance. Despite the fact that there was nothing to actually “handle”, Mr. Jones was nothing if not prepared. Mr. Jones attempted to get off to a friendly start with the class when he informed the class that they were free to call him “Mr. J” or simply “Charlie”. The class however found this well-intentioned remark somewhat condescending. “I don’t believe I have any trouble pronouncing Jones,” said one cynical youth. However, the real trouble began when “Charlie” took attendance. He first asked student Nomar Adams if he was related to Chicago Cubs shortstop Nomar Garciaparra, which was responded to with an unadulterated “no.”

He then made the mistake of asking student Miles Douglas, who was wearing an Indiana University t-shirt, if he was an Indiana fan. “I guess,” replied Douglas, with an obvious nonchalance. Jones then went on a friendly tangent. “I went down there last year to see a game with a buddy of mine. It was a great game. It went into O.T., but we had to leave in the middle of the third quarter because it was just freezing outside.” Although it was clear the student was uninterested, Jones didn’t seem deterred, and he went on with the attendance, going by last name to establish a rapport with the youngsters and keep things moving, and continually mispronouncing names as simple as Donaldson and Martin. The straw that broke the camel’s back however was when he inexplicably mispronounced the name Trevor Eaton as “Jeffrey Steinman.” Once corrected, an embarrassed Jones remarked “Oh, that’s an E.”

After the seemingly eternal attendance call finally ended, it was on to playing time. Although the class was midway through their basketball unit and was currently in the middle of playing actual games, the well-meaning teacher instead made them work on their passing skills, unconvincingly saying that it was what he was told to do. After cutely miscounting the number of people in the class upwards of ten times while attempting to count off by 2’s, he eventually let the kids pick their own partners. “Bounce pass, chest pass, baseball pass. Bounce pass, chest pass, baseball pass. Bounce pass, chest pass, baseball pass,” he repeated over and over again. There was no foreseeable end in sight. When asked why he was working the class so hard the teacher replied, “When life gives me lemons, I make lemonade.”

Despite this cliché having no correlation to the question whatsoever, Mr. Jones remained satisfied. “I think I’ve made a real difference,” he thought to himself. A difference indeed.

If there is one person whom I envy, any one person, it would have to be a great person. I’m pretty full of myself and therefore I think I rock already, so to envy someone, it is big news to me. But the person, well thing, whom I envy the most, is my old, senile dog. He rocks.

A Day In the Life Of My Old Senile Dog

5:24 AM Run into my room and roll on the ground growling. Perhaps he hates my carpet. He hates it so much, that he is will to sit there barking at it for twenty minutes, even when I throw my pillow at him. That is dedication.

5:44 AM While he’s in the neighborhood, he might has well use his front paws to drag himself across the ground outside my room to clean his backside. My vet says he is cleaning his anal glands. To much mucus there. Now that is good hygiene.

5:50 AM Sleep on back occasionally twitching hind leg.

7:06 AM my dad whistles to tell my dog it’s time to go out, and my half-deaf dog sleeps.

7:06:15 AM another whistle. Again, no response.

7:06:24 AM I throw my pillow at him to wake him

7:07 AM he walks around the block with my Father, Dr, His Honor, Dearest ®

7:30 AM he gets back from his walk and sleeps underneath the window sill where the heating vent is. As far as I can tell, he remains there until I get back from school.

4:20 PM he is let out to the backyard where he will bark at airplanes. My dog gets kinda ticked at things flying less then 30,000 feet above our house.

6:30 PM there are six people in my family. At dinner, all six of us feel a need to slip our dog table scraps. Free food. Also at dinner, it is a hobby for my dog to play, “Steal the Seat Of the Human That Gets Up.” He usually wins. To get seconds, one needs to barb-wire their chair.

6:53 PM he licks the crumbs off of the floor that my younger sister drops

6:55 PM he vomits the crumbs off of the floor that my younger sister drops

7:10 PM sleep on my homework as a way to say, “screw you, I’m old, but can still win”

7:12 PM I must lore my dog away from my French work by giving more food. He prefers dried salami as a lore.

7:14 PM throws up dried salami. Then, the boy who gave him the salami must clean it. Again, “screw you, I’m old, but can still win.” He is good.

7:15 PM drinks from the toilet to get rid of the bad taste of blown chunks (irony?)

7:16-10:00 PM he attempts to bite off his own tail until my dad leashes his for his last walk of the day.

10:30-5:24 he sleeps

Please, tell me this animal is not the greatest hero. He totally rocks. He probably gets about fifteen hours of sleep a day. He gets good exercise and is good to commitment. The best part is, he doesn’t take any guff from anybody (you dirty airplanes!). I think we can all say, it’s a dog’s life. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try to bite my tail off.

EVERYWHERE, ON EARTH– Howard “Cotton” Gin was just your average human being. He had a normal job that he loved, a wife that he loved dearly, but there was something else. Oh, how there was something else. “Cotton” had recieved a 1st generation iPod for his 27th birthday. Ever since then, he has been hooked to it. He often meanders around his office with it, while strumming along on the air guitar.

Co-worker and associate of Cotton for upwards of around four years, Darwin Gumphree, spoke of the problem. “It’s gotten to be pretty strange. He strolls nonchalantly about the office, while people just gawk at him hopelessly. He’s becoming a real kook.”

Nothing could have been kookier than what happened on the 10th hour of the 10th day of the 10th month of 2005. “Cotton” Gin mysteriously transformed into an iPod. People who had been fortunate enough to witness the transfiguration of Gin were utterly speechless. “It looked like his eyes changed into the Play button and the Menu button while his mouth became a perfect circle with a button in the middle. He all of a sudden had an enormous gray forehead, and a little USB port at the bottom at which he could dispense bodily fluids,” stated long-time boss R. Francis McBoro.

It appears as if these mysterious happenings have been occuring across the entire planet. It also seems like crop circles have appeared in central Kansas with designs resembling iPods. Now, this country has seen queer sights, but the queerest it ever did see, was that abstruse moment where a transformation occured in “Cotton” Gin.