Earlier in the week DJ brought to my attention a startling fact: apparently you people are not very literate. Well either that or the content on this site is just too stupid- though no particular post comes to mind. Here’s the evidence:

88% Basic 11% Intermediate 1% Posts by Patty O’Leary

Not looking good. Well, luckily I work in a library and I happened to have some archive access. That’s right! I have access to archived books- really famous manuscripts that have never been released! So, in an effort to boost our reading level, I stole this exclusive chapter excerpt from Herman Melville’s classic Moby Dick. These particular chapters were censored from the original publication because they describe the whale’s penis and Ishmael’s diatribe on whale semen. It’s pretty boring stuff, but I can guarantee you that this is 100% real. I stole these documents from the library I work at and copied them here, word for word, verbatim. Enjoy:

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You know what?

If I said that really condescendingly it would be a good insult, but if I say it with a smile it sounds like I am about to tell you something, and I am! There is one thing I like to do before I sit down to write blogs. Nope, guess again, I like to put on some groovy tunes! Well, hey, let’s get real: it’s about a week into December and from what I can remember I am getting weak in the knees with anticipation. Am I anticipating the antifreeze? No! I’m anticipating the poinsettias, mistletoe, wreaths, ivy, holly and evergreens! As I began this blog I put on one of my all time favorite Christmas songs: “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”

Go ahead and press play there, it makes a good background track.

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Hello again, Smartass radio’s Michael Jackson correspondent Megan Riebesell here, just checking in to follow up on the status of our dearly beloved.  As we all could have predicted, not even MJ’s passage into eternity could ease the controversy that besieged him all his life.  Back here on earth, we are still picking away at every morsel of flesh that our ugly beaks can scrape off his bones.  People are still making  careers out of revealing any kind of sensitive information they can dig up in his wake, so-called “artists” are  still depending on his legacy for their own shot at celebrity or capital, and the fat, greedy vultures of the world are still milking his hard-earned masterpieces for every pathetic cent they can steal.  However, do not fret, I am here to remind everyone that Michael’s pure soul, which was always too powerful to be contained by a simple human body, has finally reached its proper ranking among the gods, as an immortal presence.  Of course, Michael’s kingdom in the great beyond is immune to the commotion of silly, frantic scavengers still chirping his name down here.  Rest in assurance, MJ smiles down on all of his children still, giggling at our antics.

That being said, skimming through Jacko’s most recent controversy was actually a pretty hilarious and  of course bizarre venture. Where do I even begin?

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Many of you may not know this, but I’m a pretty well-read guy. I’m not implying I’ve read any particular library of classic books – I’ve made it a point to never read a single Charles Dickens book no matter how many I was assigned throughout high school, I have a particular disdain for Ernest Hemmingway and, frankly James Joyce can suck my hog (I assume based solely on his name that he’s of the homosexual persuasion). However, I do read the news every day. The real news. The New York Times – not Metro NY, The Post, anything posted on CNN or any of that other silly hogwash. (Morris Day and) The Motherfucking Time(s). That shit is the MAD notes!

Anyway, I was reading an article yesterday about Michael Jackson’s memorial (Michael Jackson: The Memorial, rather) and I came to a phrase that was totally worthy of a tweet, however Twitter tells me “Arrow_on_red” and to “watch a video,” which I never do.  So, unable to share this hilarity in my normal manner for quips of such insignificance, I decided to let it stir for an entire day and be evacuated from my body in a long form post. My original tweet will be followed by my elaboration:

yesterday the ny times referred to the michael jackson memorial as an ‘orgy of mourning’ http://bit.ly/ZSqkY sounds like an awful goth band

(Note how I refuse to use proper punctuation for my tweets.)

Indeed, Alessandra Stanley decided to equate the ramblings of a bunch of aging stars and the sobbing of a child to a sex act involving three or more people. For this, I cannot fault her. I’m almost positive it’s the first time I’ve ever laughed while reading the Times – unfortunately for me, I was drinking hot coffee and ended up with second degree burns inside my nose, but that’s neither here nor there. What I can fault her for, is the exact words she used. An orgy of mourning carries a ton of possible connotations. For one, had her left pinky slipped and hit the shift key, she would have ended up with an “orgy of Mourning,” conjuring images of retired Miami Heat basketball star Alonzo Mourning having all kinds of kinky sex with other people with the last name Mourning.

Pimp.

As my tweet above will inform you, though, this was not my initial reaction. At first, I thought it sounded like a bad high school “goth” band. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what the term goth actually means. In middle school I know we used to call anyone who listened to KoRn goth. I don’t think I used it in high school, but if I did, I’m relatively certain it was in reference to the fat asses who watched Anime (and by association Hentai). In college, I realized both the definitions were wrong as I became more entrenched in what I know as “metal” and listened to idiot girls refer to other idiot girls who happened to be wearing a black t-shirt as goth.

Now, I tend to associate it with darker rock acts and (at the risk of upsetting either a frigheningly fat or skinny mongrel of an outcast) some more feminine black metal acts and people who still insist on wearing trench coats and ponytails. (Ghaal, I’m looking directly at you.) With that, let me set the scene for how Orgy of Mourning came to be:

Greg Schmidt (or Devastatorious as he liked to be called, not realizing how retarded and off-base it was) was a skinny lad, aged 15. At one time, he was very much into N*SYNC, but never told anyone. As a direct result, he was driven head first by the denial of his own homosexuality to black metal. First it was just once in a while, when he was bored of his Metallica CDs, but with the advent of high speed Internet and P2P networks, he found he needed to own and know everything about every band ever, which brought him to his current position in life – trolling message boards, blogs and news sites to point out whenever someone forgot to mention the latest Abigail Williams release.

One particularly rainy afternoon, Devastatorious was ham-handedly playing something resembling a ham-handed Mayhem song on his Line6 Pod Pro, which he got on eBay for “like half of list price.” As he came to what some would call a chorus, his buddy Mike Shea (Khhal for our purposes) came running down with a great idea, “Let’s start our own band!” Of course, this sounded like a great idea to Devastatorious. “Ok, well first things first – we need a totally bitchin’ name,” he explained.

“Well, yeah of course. What should we call ourselves?”
“The most dark and hardcore thing ever.”
“Nothing was darker than when my mother mourned the loss of Sprinkles (the shivering family Teacup Something or other).”
“Fuck yeah, the idea of mourning is deep as hell.”
“What else should we include?”
“How about something sexual? Not because we’ll end up having sex six months from now, or anything.”

As he said this, Greg shot a look to the right to avoid eye contact with his new bandmate. Mike continued looking at him awkwardly for a moment before breaking the silence:

“This might not be cool, but check it out.”
“Ok”
“Remember that totally gay band from back in the day Orgy.”
“Yea, they suck.” No they don’t, he thought to himself.
“Well, how about we take ‘Orgy’ back and make it cool again?”

As if they had both sprung rods simultaneously, Greg and Mike looked up from their in-progress black painted nails and exclaimed triumphantly:

“ORGY OF MOURNING!”

-END-

And that’s how I imagined that going.

Charlottesville, VA: In a ground breaking court case, Virginian resident Todd Sampson took 36 individuals to court under the charge of “making him feel bad.” What’s more surprising: he won.

The story began two years ago when Sampson, 47, took the Subway sandwich company to court for “making him feel fat.” Sampson, an avid television viewer, felt that recent Subway advertisements “glorified healthy lifestyles” and made less fit individual feel “lesser.” The case was widely publicized, but the verdict was returned in favor of the corporation. Sampson had lost the battle, but not the war.

In early February of this year, Sampson set his sights even higher, taking on many of his closest friends, family and neighbors in one massive law suit.

Sampson was born and raised in a small suburban Virginian town where he works as a substitute teacher. He is the father of two girls and a boy, but is now divorced from his first and only wife, Jean Nibbons, 43. Mrs. Nibbons and the three children have each had charges brought against them during the proceedings.

The frustrations for Sampson began in the summer of 2008, when his mother encouraged him to attend church services to help with feelings of depression which developed following his recent divorce. After attending several Sunday services, Sampson was not impressed. He claimed the sermons were often “too moral” and “made me feel like I wasn’t doing the best I could.”

Sampson’s neighbor, Bob Yunak, had a different story, “Todd is a lazy fat ass. He doesn’t do much at all. He drives a shitty car and he let’s his dog shit on my lawn. Also he’s got a kiddie pool in his backyard, and I think it’s got mosquitos.”

Whether the rainwater collected in the pool has indeed breed mosquitos is yet to be affirmed.

Sampson’s became more fed-up as time went on and conflicts began to arise with many other town members. Accusations included: a $4000 charge against his son for “not really ever looking up to me much,” a $10,000 charge against his old friend Andy “for beating me in bowling and that made me feel like shit” and a joint suit against 22 women in the tri-state area for “not being interesting in what I had to offer.”

Sampson even went as far back as his fourth grade teacher, who once gave him a C- and “made him feel bad.”

After the verdict was reached this passed Tuesday in favor of Sampson, many were outraged and an appeal is almost certain. One town person, who wished to remain nameless for fear of being sued, said, “Todd doesn’t deserve any money from anybody. He’s worthless. I’ve seen him smoke cigarettes he picked out of the dirt. He’s an awful, awful person and I think he’s racist.”

Incidentally Sampson did sue Marques Esposito, a Social studies teacher at the local High School, for “making him feel racist.”

Sampson’s father lost $140,000 to his son after being charged with “never taking me fishing or anything, which sucks”

Still some people stand behind Sampson, in particular his mother who, it is estimated, will lose a quarter million dollars in the case. Though upset with her son’s actions she claims that “had [she] known that the advice [she] was giving [Sampson] on the phone was hurting his feelings, [she] never would have said it.” She added that she regrets encouraging her son to meet new people, mow his lawn and maybe take some time off to travel.

Still many feel that had Sampson taken the initiative to meet new people, mow his lawn and travel he “may not have been such a dick” and “rereading the Harry Potter books again and again isn’t going to help anything and he should know that.”

The case is sure to be a watermark in the American judicial system. Already there have been reports of similar instances cropping up in courtrooms across the country.

Nevada couple Nikki and Samuel Dwarf have recently filed a case against Caesar’s Palace casinos for “lowering the morale of their livelihoods, hampering their financial ability to raise a traditional family and ultimately making them feel bad” after losing several hundred dollars gambling on their honeymoon.

Ty Sandler, a college student at Rhode Island’s School of Design, has gone to court against the Anehuser-Busch Brewing Company whose products, he claims, have only helped to exacerbate his “bad feelings on multiple occasions.”

In total Sampson will be coming away with $1.2 million in compensation. When asked about his feelings post-trial, Sampson claimed that he was “actually feeling a little better.”

This has been a SmartassRadio news report.

Everyone who’s ever taken a law class of any sort, or who reads Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader surely knows about the absolutely retarded case brought against McDonald’s by some old bitch from Albuquerque who didn’t know not to take the top off her hot coffee between her legs while driving. This dopey broad actually ended up with third degree burns on her legs and ass and received something like $2.7 mil. from Mickey D’s (two days of coffee sales) in a case which boggles the mind of someone possessing the intellect above that of a cup of hot ass coffee.

Janine Sugawa’s idea of a Chevy Avalanche

Since then, everyone’s heard of citizens bringing frivolous cases throughout this great land of ours (U-S-A! U-S-A!) trying to capitalize on legal technicalities and their own idiocy. The latest to make national headlines is Janine Sugawara of San Diego, California who actually sued PepsiCo because “Cap’n Crunch Crunch Berries” doesn’t contain actual berries. The quote that gives this post its title is about all you have to know about what the judge had to say to this dimwit, but for good measure here’s an excerpt of his decision from USAToday:

This Court is not aware of, nor has Plaintiff alleged the existence of, any actual fruit referred to as a “crunchberry.” … A reasonable consumer would not be deceived into believing that the Product in the instant case contained a fruit that does not exist. . . . So far as this Court has been made aware, there is no such fruit growing in the wild or occurring naturally in any part of the world.

Plaintiff did not explain why she could not reasonably have figured this out at any point during the four years she alleged she bought Cap’n Crunch with Crunchberries in reliance on defendant’s fraud.

This got me thinking… if she was under the impression, for four years, that she had been eating actual berries and not sugar coated corn puffs, then what else must this moron believe she’s doing on a day to day basis? When choosing between Diet Coke and Diet Redbull for that pick-me-up in the afternoon does she think she’s about to spend $1.50 on 12oz. of cocaine or an 8oz. male cow? Anybody worth their weight in heroin knows 12oz. of coke will run you at least 10 grand and a baby bull will probably cost you somewhere in the neighborhood of your first born child, if you’re in a developing country, or $80 American.

Sickening.

Imagine, if you will, though, that I, a guy who uses a lot of commas, some of which probably aren’t necessary, told you, someone who is probably really irritated by it, that Crunch Berries did actually exist. What a world we would live in. I could wake up in the morning and take a bit out of my butter finger, then walk downstairs to have Mr. Clean actually do my dishes after a freshly picked bowl of Crunch Berries was served to me by a swarthy old sea captain. When I got into my new Honda Element, I would figure out what its atomic weight was by observing the ratio between the average mass of its atoms to 1/12 of the mass of an atom of carbon-12.

I think you can see where I’m going with this and how ultimately unfunny it is, so I’ll knock it off. Hopefully I didn’t inadvertently piss off the chemists reading this dogshit by not explaining atomic weight clearly enough.

Our friends across the pond, Mother England, have recently sunk into national tormoil after one of Britain’s top intelligence secret agents, James Bond, registered for an account on the popular web page Twitter. Bond, who is also known as Agent 007, claims he joined the site just to, “network and stay up to date on what Ryan Seacrest was doing.” However, Bond’s own updates have begun to undercut the secrecy of some highly classified British operations around the globe and Parliament is not happy.

One of Bond’s several compromising “tweets.”

Story continues after the jump…

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