Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Old Fud-Duds Reuinte for Pinkwad Chew Off



"I love pinkwads. When we were kids we used to hop on top of an old dung heap out near a pile of garbage and filth and talk about our dreams and chew pinkwad."
-Shup Nutdut

During the annual Pinkwad Chew Off, Shup Nutdut, a lifelong pinkwad slammer, got more than he bargained for. Not only did he get a mouthful of pink sugar chew, he ran into his childhood best friend, Put Bumtear.

"Oh, shucks. Shup and I were best friends. We used to go on long walks through the municipal sewer facility and look for pieces of pinkwad in between floating browns and hunk-dunks. Then we'd chew them all day long and laugh about how bad we smelt. Then we'd go home and our parents would beat us because they said we smelled like plorp-sploosh."
-Putt Bumtear

It took a few seconds for Shup and Putt to recognize eachother, but once they did, they exchanged bodily rubs and they traded pinkwads as a display of their affection. As in traditional gumwad chewing techniques, Shup and Pup got on their knees and made three chews to Gum Lord Sir Albatross Sugartooth and prayed for the religion of Pinkwad to find a home in the Sugarcastles of the sky, far beyond the clouds. After their prayer, the two friends went home and had a dinner of two 32oz pinkwad steaks and a couple of glasses of slom-dush.

As a symbol of the freedom in their hearts and and as a representation for their love and faith of Pinkwad religion, Putt and Shup have dedicated a memorial plaque to their memories of childhood pinkwad slampdown adventures with this passage from the pinkwad bible.

"He who cheweth pinkwad will surely benefit from the sugar. And he who cheweth pinkwad will feel the spirit in his loin. He who feel the spirit in his loin is a good man and a brethren of the chew. He will find his home in the sweet, sugary bosom of Gum Lord Sir Albatross Sugartooth in the kingdom of Gum Rain, where all good spirits doeth go upon final croak. My children of the chew are welcome to sample different flavors of pinkwad as long as they don't combine flavors. Blub-Dub flavor hath not be combined with Gorgon-Hosh-Tosh nor shall Nad-Dad Humtuss be combined with O-Cram-Cram. Be wise with your choosings and be weary of eating solid food. Solid food will send you away from the spirit and away from the Sugarlord."

-Cham-Hower Chew, Verse 8, Chapter 2

Monday, November 29, 2010

San Rafieli's Meatball Parmesan "Italian Fun Guy" Knowledge Institution




Are you looking for THE BEST higher learning institution in the immediate area?

Well, look no further than San Rafieli's Meatball Parmesan "Italian Fun Guy" Knowledge Institution. Founded in 2007, the school focuses it's curriculum on Italian Dressing Pouring, Olive Seed Removal, Talking Louder Than Most Other People In the Room, And Buying Cars That Are Faster Than Most Other People's Cars. Other majors include Best Methods of Pulling Up Your Shirt To Reveal Your Six Pack Abs, Sniffing for Hot Slizz, and How To Hide Cocaine Inside of Lasagna.

Mr. San Rafieli, the owner of the the learning facility, spoke with us about his achievements and those of his student body.

"I felt like my wet-haired pizza kids weren't getting no smarts from these big city hotshots. I wanted to give them knowledge from the old country. Knowledge like I learned from Pizza Hut, back when I started out there in 2006."

"Ravioli Joey is a good kid. He got the honor roll for spiking his hair up higher than the other kids. I like to bust his chops a little bit but he's a good kid. He wears the baggiest jeans. Hell, his jeans are so baggy I saw him put 18 shotguns down one pant leg and blast a hole in his dorm floor on a Saturday night lasagna jam. There was just some shithead down there ramming his hardstick with pizza sauce. He was like 'Ey, keep it down up there, would ya?'"

"Next year we're gonna offer classes like
-Domino's Pizza Eating,
-Having A Good Time,
-Mozerella Stick Arrangement,
-and Hair Gel Palm Spreading."

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Celebrity Fundraiser: Meatskin Flesh-Column Slam-Down



Heavybody celebrity "big-time guy" Vinse Von held a celebrity auction last Friday to see how many hot pink sticks he could jam down his gullet.

"This auction goes to celebrate the lives who have been lived in remembrance of hotsticks. People that lived out loud and weren't afraid to be a Maverick and eat a meatlog. People that never asked for a cent from the Federal Meatskin Flesh-Column Association for assistance in their purchases."
-Vinse "the Beef Whisperer" Von

Mr. Von ate approximately seventeen dogs before he began to sweat and wheeze and whisper insinuative comments towards some young people. He made a few final comments before league officials forcably took the mike-rah-fone away:

"I hate hotmeat and I hate all of you. I asked for mild, Italian inner flesh inside of my meatskin but you guys gave me original flavor. I can't believe I ever said I stand beside the Federal Meatskin Flesh-Column Association. Those guys have no idea how to fill my hunger sack."

After the event, Mr. Von began to act unruly, grabbing the male narrator by his lower hair and having a go at him. Many people in the audience waiting for the auction to start began to cry and sob aloud.

"I thought this was an auction to benefit the victims of Hot Muscle Fouler. It was advertised as a charitable event but we just sat around and watched this great time instead. I'm okay with it. I like the Vinse Von movie Santee Claus." -Poul Bowndown

"I brought my two children to this event thinking it was a charity. It wanted them to see all the good that was in the world. Instead, they got this. This wonderful time. Thank you." -Neeter Pumperpuss

Vinse Von's spokesman, Tooter Brownsmoke later commented on behalf of Mr. Von. "My client believes he likes Meatskin Flesh-Columns. What he doesn't understand is why the inner hunks were less than savory for his lips and his gullet. My client has a certain level of standards for hotflesh and he knows he was made a fool by the Federal Meatskin Flesh-Column Association of America and the Federal Government."

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Discover a new way to pemp your jigger


Tired of the daily hopscotch with your nork? Had enough of trying to find time to rort your nanner and hairmound? Sick of your friends always making fun of you because you lock yourself inside of your sweat-chamber for hours and come out with a look of disgrace and humility?

My sole question: are you not performing well at pemping your jigger?

My friends, I have the solution: Read my new binded-page collection, entitled "A Whole New Way to Pemp Your Jigger" by me, Tam Pumphouse.

In my book, I discuss the ancient "Run-Tun-Dun" method of wamming on your sillyrod at six to midnight.

You get all the information you need on every available technique, from the "Bump-Bump Bangrod" to the "Deep Forest Brush Grush" and the mysterious Yang-Tang Torkus."

And I don't shy away from important topics like what happens when your special-gal comes in and sees you looking at yourself in the mirror and going ham-ham-ham on a Tuesday night. What a stress!

But most importantly, I discuss the true spirituality associated with gruubing your man-nail. HOW is it done? WHY is it done? FOR HOW LONG? And will the Astro-Lord care?

For all the answers and more... buy "A Whole New Way to Pemp Your Jigger" at your local binded-page purchasing facility.

Be sure to visit these fine locations on your money-spending adventures:

-Borlock's Page Ripper
-Soup Forskin's Page Eyeballers
-Bowell's Pooks
-Beefhunk Bill's Brucker's n' Boogs
-Sports Books International Slam-Dunk Reader's Association

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Mega Brothers: Bed Boys



"My brother Jorgon likes to ram a clothcord up inside of my rip-canyon."
-Enord Ponkhoggle

Jorgon and Enord, the fun-guys behind the local-access-wire television show "Mega Brothers: Bed Boys" are known in the Southwest Lower Smazwad County as the premiere teen-aged bed pranksters. Legendary social critic and fun-guy enthusiast Shim Tightwad once said that the Ponkhoggler brothers were "the most important thing ever to happen to the bed-prank/good-times community."

For those of you who haven't seen Mega Brothers: Bed Boys, every week is a new adventure in foolers and goofs. The Ponkhoggle brothers think up a new round of sillies to pull on one another within the confines of their undersized bunked bed. On last week's episode, Enord carved a hole up into Jorgon's bunk and pulled his underpants off at 4am. The week before that Jorgon popped all his pimples down onto Enord while he did a snumble-snooze. Next week's episode will feature a guest appearance by none other than Porkball legend Gary Sheepsblood. Gary vows to channel his "sports strength" to fold the Ponkhoggler brothers' bunkbed into a massive wooden taco and throw it out the second story window onto their parents front lawn WITH THE BED BOYS CRAMMED INSIDE.

Stay tuned!

***

Critical reviews of Mega Brothers: Bed Boys (from around the SW Lower Smazwad County area):

"Jorgon and Enord have hand-crafted a piece of genuine art that casts a dark and murky shadow over every other thing in my life, including my wife and kids."
-Shim Tightwad, the Smazwad Grumbus

"At first, I thought this was just another show about kids in bed. Then I learned about all the pranks and honkers that go on after midnight. That's when it really got my attention!"
-Rigger Manhole, the Daily Hork

"My favorite episode was when Jorgon did a top-bunk bedflip into the wall and bonked his noggin. It woke Enord up at 3am! Hilarious!"
-Fud-Fud Figgle, the Pinkle Tuesday Express

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Pear and Biscuit!



Looks like Biscuit is having trouble with his publicist again. Pear, on the other paw, seems alright today.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Disgraced Woodbat Legend Addicted to Rough Dirtslides




It was announced today that disgraced Woodbat Player and Ballhammer-Swinger Pooter Warmcabbage checked into Dripping Forehead Sexual Rehabilitation Center in St. Peter's Wood, George-Uh.

It was noted that throughout his career and home life, Pooter spent most of his days swimming in dirt and filth, and tilling the soil with his pam-pam.

Pooter's third ex-wife remembers a scene: "I remember coming home from the grocery store and seeing Pooter in the backyard in a pile of rubbish thrusting his ooger into a mound of dead leaves. When he saw me in the window, he just got up and pretended he was doing yardwork."

Pooter's sixteenth ex-wife remembers another painful scene: "After our first week of marriage, I caught Pooter shoving handfulls of farm dust down the front of his trousers. He was grunting and growling and calling out to the 'Spirit of Filth.'  It was awful."

We also spoke to Pooter's mother, who had some insight into Pooter's career as a Ballhammer-Swinger: "I remember when Pooter was little, he used to say he wanted to be a dirt-man when he grew up. I used to say 'Honey, there's no such thing as a dirt-man.' I used to tell him if he liked dirt, he could be a grave digger, a construction worker, or a Woodbat World-Star Beefhunk. Naturally, he chose the latter option."

Pooter's descent into public depravity came to a bulbous head in the Summer of 1976 when he pulled out his jammer during a game and stuck it deep into the earth while doing a belly-skid into third pad. He screamed out in wild ecstasy. Then, seconds later, he appeared to come back to reality. Pooter then sulked back into the man-bunker in shame as thousands of fans cried and screamed to Jesus' name in mercy.

The next day his coach expelled him from the team, claiming that "Woodbat is for Jesus-Men. Not Dirt-Boys. Not fucking Dirt-Boys."

Since then, it has been said by friends and colleagues that Pooter would make a habit of taking off his body cloths and swim around like a hungry serpent or a redworm in river banks and cemeteries, looking for the softest spot to sink his hamrod.

Now, 20 years after his expulsion from Woodbat World-Star Beefhunk Champion-Game, we've caught up with Pooter Warmcabbage and asked him for comment.

"I'm going through a rough time right now. My life-coach says I have to stay away from moist, hot landscaping. They put electric razor chains across the soft-dirt garden outside my window. I think I'm going to slit the guards throat tonight and try to escape from this place."

Thursday, November 4, 2010

No Cookie Law Angers Red-Eyed Demons

Pro-cookie demons have shot out of earth’s crust—snarling and barking—in protest of an anti-cookie law recently enacted to keep local hunger-beasts away from community cookie storage facilities.

Hulking pork-tummies, pure hunger-beasts, pooch-bellies and Rum-tum-tums recently staged a raid on Famous Amos’ Cookie Water Tower, which held 10,000 Gallons of raw, chemically untreated cookie dough.

The PCLF (Peoples Cookie Liberation Front) Led by female-demon Barkdust Riptooth and male head-lord demon Blop Buttercream recruited dozens of followers over the past weeks.


Pictured: Barkdust Riptooth


Pictured: Blop Buttercream


Armed with flaming spatulas and poisoned oven-mits, the angry mob descended on the unprepared employees of Famous Amos’ “Fun-Guy’s Good Time Palace” and mercilessly slaughtered every last man, woman, and senior-level manager.

The group then proceeded to climb the cookie dough water tower, where they—through sheer force of will—and extreme carb consumption—toppled the tower. The group members and demons then gnawed down several dozen trees with their teeth, setting them ablaze around the water tower, cooking the 10,000 gallons of dough, creating one massive cookie.

By the time the National Guard arrived, the PCLF had already devoured the cookie and returned to their base in the lava tunnels in the bowels of the earth. Main military guys say the shit's going to hit the fan during Christmas season, when the main cookie rush begins.

"We've stationed our most elite cookie-defense troops and religious baptists near all major cookie outlets all over God's sweet America. We've got machine gun guys stationed in front of Buttercream Ned's Sugar-Disc Sellers, Beeter's Round-Hound Exchange, and Globular Hot-Dough Item Distributors of America. So when the hunger-demons surface--we'll be ready for 'em."

-Admiral Turbo Beefgrain