Archive for February, 2011

Woman wins lotto, doesn’t quit job

Saturday, February 19th, 2011

Lavada Blassingame loves her job as a Toronto Parking Enforcement Officer. Anyone who’s attempted to run into a store while parked illegally in the quadrant between Bloor and Front and Spadina and Jarvis has probably felt her wrath. Well, their car has, at least.

“You dauw wauw’ eevah TRY in my territoreh, huney!” declared Lavada, who wears a custom meter maid uniform that is regular sized through the torso and legs but XXXL in the seat.

“Dauw eevah TRY eht!” repeated Lavada, though we were already fully dissuaded given her first forceful warning from any illegal parking schemes we may have been harboring.*

Well, Lavada is this week’s Lotto 6/49 winner, the lucky recipient of $41 million of millions of other people’s wagers that they might be struck by lightning. However, that’s not the newsworthy bit. The amazing part of the story is that Lavada does not plan on quitting her parking enforcement job!

“Nowauw’ keh’ do the job like I do eht, babeh,” explained Lavada.

“Nowauw’!” she added, just in case we didn’t get the message.

“Wauw’ em’ I gwa’ do? Let chaos reig’?? Let those got’dah’ parkers jus’ pah’k wherevah da f*h’k de wauwz’?!?” shouted a semi-enraged Lavada.

“I dauw’ tank so! I dauw’ muthafrontin’ tank so!!”** she answered herself.

Lavada does plan to indulge in some stupid ways, as any spontaneous millionaire is expected to by the rest of us. Indeed, Lavada is augmenting her wardrobe with some luxury, designer items befitting of a millionaire 240lb. black woman. These are to include 87 separate articles of velor clothing, ranging from XXXL velor thongs to a navy velor jumpsuit, as well as formal wear.

“ha-HA! Velohwwww’ bebeh! ha-HA!!” explained Lavada.

“JUICEH! Hoooo, boi; mama TOLD ya not to come! ha-HA!” continued a wild Lavada.

On top of retaining her job, Lavada also plans on retaining her 1997 Honda Civic but upgrading it with custom chrome bumpers, rims***, grill, door handles and windshield wipers, velor seats, and a 7000 watt Blaupunkt audio system.

Pimp My Ride ain’t got nutin’ on me, nukka!” explicated Lavada.

Expect to see Lavada in her new orthopedic velor shoes ticketing your Kia while you’re buying smokes at 7/11 as usual.
*or “threat,” of sorts. Lavada has a glimmer in her eye everytime she utters her threatwarning that suggests she actually kinda does want you to try.

**we’d never said that we “thought so.”

***spinners, OBV.

Dorm Rooms for dummies

Wednesday, February 16th, 2011

So, you’re off to college, er, university.* If you’re taking engineering or biology or some other intense track; well, get ready for four years of insane stress. If – like so, so many of the entitled, vapid, “self-actualization”-seeking little menchildren and womengirls in North America – you plan on taking “humanities,” perhaps as a precursor to adding value to the world as a lawyer** and hastening the world’s domination by the hard-working, pragmatic Chinese and Indians, then you’re about to embark on four wonderful years of leisure, hedonism and drug use, these punctuated only occasionally by all-night essay writing sessions.***

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. You just moved in! I mean, you don’t even know how to build a weed smoking device out of a paper towel tube and some Bounce so that you aren’t forced to smoke outdoors in the winter like some kind of mutt, but also won’t get tossed out of rez by an Oil Factory-gifted RA! Have we lost ya? OK, let’s rewind a bit more! About this room. Well, welcome to your 9′ by 5′ frosh cave. Don’t worry, rez will get alot better once you start drinking the coeds prettier. Oh, and get some stretchy pants. You’re not gonna have much time to work out. Now, let’s get this SexDen decorated, shall we? Your angst-ridden WhackCave is in the rearview mirror, friend. Below, in a hermetically-sealed manila envelope, please find the list of your mandatory purchases:

Fight Club or Trainspotting poster
You hate the obligation to conform that comes-along-with going-along-with modern society. That’s why you’re preparing for a generic life track by going to University! “Yeah, well I’m still aware of it, mayyyyn.” Show how you’re deep and ironic and kind of discontented in a worthy-of-a-blowjob way with your awesome posters.
Choose life.

Goodfellas, Casino or Reservoir Dogs poster

OK, you can’t go too far with the deep sh*t**** You also like good, old-fashioned glamorized violence. It also suggests you’re kind of bad-assed yourself, even though you probably wouldn’t know whether the safety was on or not.

Lava lamp
Classic. Vintage. Cool-looking. OK, tremendously tacky in any setting, but cool-looking in this one. Tells unmet rez neighbors you like to get loose. This message can be upped with a Bob Marley poster, which also adds some nice racial sensitivity and political awareness undertones.

Empty liquor bottles

Man, can you ever party! Oh, don’t believe me?? Look: that there is a bottle of Jack Daniels I drank, see? Right there on my window sill. …Well, 2/3 of it. The other third ended up on my keyboard after I passed out.

A tennis, racquetball or squash racquet in the corner

Yeah, I play. I’m healthy and active and athletic! OK, it’s February and I haven’t played yet all year…but I plan on it! Thing is, there’s just so much YouTube to enjoy with my dormmates.

Huge poster of scantily-clad chick

You get so much ass. So much ass, man. And, obviously you’re NOT gay. “I saw the way you were looking at me after the Halloween Party, man. Not cool. We were just watching An Inconvenient Truth. Nothing more. I’m OK with everyone’s personal life choice and all that, but I just don’t go that way.” Plus chicks will immediately know how much sex you’ve had and how good you obviously are at it (Just look at that poster! Or how ’bout that one?? That’s Heidi Klum! On my wall!!) and that back in your high school life you almost certainly got soooo much ass. So much ass, man.

Unassigned “serious” books in your tiny bookshelf or on your crappy desk
You’re a sophisticated, worldly mofo; hell, that’s why you’re here! Yes, that’s a Whitman poetry anthology. Yup, that’s a bio of Churchill. Yeah, none of them have a crease in the spin.

Any other tidbits of Advil vice? Organize bulk shipments of marijuana to your rez via FedEx. Start networking over the summer to find your wholesaler. Then, come September, sell dimes at a huge markup.

“I don’t neeeed your condescension OR your allowance, daaaaaaad.”

We know you’ll make us proud, son.
*In the US “college” means undergrad university whereas in Canuckville “college” means community college.

**>phlegmy cough pause< ***your friends and black coffee will keep you company. ****Superficial Hollywood "deep" is as far as most 17 year olds (actually, "most everyone" really) care to go. Deeper deep meditations on society and meaning and the Tao of Steve will be largely unread, mostly misunderstood, and completely forgotten right after the final exams via a few PHL classes.*****

*****This guy uses waaaay too many footnote-comments. Learn to write. “Oh, really fool? Melville used over 78 footnote comments to amp the tension in Moby Dick, dick. By the end of the book half the page was asterixez.”

Canada Goose virus spreading

Monday, February 14th, 2011

Toronto has become ground zero for something far worse than SARS. No, not H1N1 Swine Flu. No, not West Nile Virus. And no, not even West Swine Flu Virus! The latest scourge – and the worst yet – is Canada Goose jackets, a.k.a. Saw1Need1 Virus. The infected are now simply everywhere. It’s like the later flashbacks of a Danny Boyle flick. As TTT reported a few weeks ago, this fur-trimmed fashion – inspired by the top fashionistas of the Wehrmacht – has been all the rage this winter. Like the county hospital before the panic hits, it was at first seemingly not a huge problem- kind of amusing, kind of pathetic: simply put, it was a sad social commentary on the copy-cat conformist nature of the average douchebag. But we here at TTT vastly underestimated the problem. This isn’t just a fad. This is a virus. And it makes Ebola look like a freakin’ afternoon at your Nana’s house.

Said Dr. Hipolito M. Wiseman of the Center for Disease Control Canada (CDC…C), “Saw1Need1 Virus is a serious medical threat. This virus is airborne, and becoming an epidemic. Any person that come within visual range of the carrier host* is immediately infected. They see a Canada Goose jacket, they need a Canada Goose jacket. Indeed, the virus renders them unable to craft original thought when it comes to winter clothing by blocking the higher brain’s ‘I don’t want to look like everyone else’ receptors and upping the theretofore inactive, primordial lower brain’s ‘I wanna wear what they’re all wearing and be cool too’ synapses. Devastatingly infantile and overwhelmingly unoriginal winter coat shopping is the tragic result.”

Trash collectors have reported a serious upswing in winter jacket discards this season- the abandonment of totally adequate winter garments being a symptom of early onset Saw1Need1.

“I found a nice Banana Republic navy pea coat type thing on my route just last week,” said garbage collector** Wilfredo Wirfs, “This thing wasn’t some beat up coat from 1986, hell, not even from 2006! I mean, it was still almost brand new!”

“Yeah, it musta cost at least two, three hundred sheckels!” added Wirf’s partner, Dick Braunschweige.

Dick and Wilfredo were planning on sharing the jacket, Dick to get the jacket M / W / F and Wilfredo T / R / S, with Sunday to be a weekly coin toss, until another like-new winter coat was found on their route just yesterday.

“A nice goose down parka!” explained Wirfs, “Very nice! Except…no fur on the hood. I suspect that’s why it was tossed.”

“No badge either,” chimed in Wirf’s 2IC, Dick, “I think it was made by ‘Armandi Assante’ or ‘Arm and Hammer’ or something. Not the duck company everyone likes so much.”

Dr. Hipolito went on to explain how the CDC…C is working around the clock to try to stay one step ahead of the virus: “The most disturbing trend is how the virus mutates and adapts to any barriers to transmission. For instance, those too poor to drop $379*** on a parka can be just as badly infected by Saw1Need1 through accessory infection, including hats and gloves. The badge clearly shows that the host is fully under the control of the virus, and suffering from reduced brain function, consequent irrational shopping behavior and compulsive conformist impulses. Often the infected start eating at Kelsey’s for almost every meal, clad in their new Canada Goose viral conformity cocoon. The healthier, less retarded of the infected – i.e. those with the dignity to at least try to resist Saw1Need1 – just end up at Milestones wearing the same parka in off-white instead of black.”

Added Dr. Hipolito gravely, “There is no known preventative vaccine nor no known cure. Transmission probability is almost 100%. Those with leased, imported cars with the least powerful engine option essentially have no hope at all.”

Those still un-infected are advised to avoid gazing at infected carriers on the street – or even those infected among their own family – because, well, take this one guy who’s wearing one right outside my office window…I mean, clearly, the jacket, um, is like, really really nice, seriousleee…like, really, really warm and super well-made and stuff, like, the fur-trim is, like, really really nice…I mean, like, explorers and scientists and stuff even use them in Antarctica…like the scientists who um, study polar bears and stuff…so, I mean, you know if they use them, then, um, then they half to be really well-made….plus they’re made in Canada so you’re, uhhh, supporting, uh, the economy and stuff…actually FYEYYYE, the only reason, like, s000 many people have them is because they’re, like, really, really nice, so, I mean, that’s actually why…like, that’s a good thing….

Ed. note: Abe Froman will be on sick leave until he is better, i.e. stops dressing like a conformist loser.

*any unoriginal moron sporting one of those now-ubiquitous Canada Goose fur-trimmed hooded jackets.

**aka “garbage man.”

***before tax. This is the price for the base model, the original strain of Saw1Need1. More originality-resistant strains of the virus necessitate a dip into one’s RRSP, since these approach the $1000 mark.

Mubarak to open Pharaoh Phalafel franchise

Thursday, February 10th, 2011

Hosni Mubarak, Egypt’s embattled 30 year “President” is on the brink of being forced out of “office.”* The masses of protesters still teeming in the streets were not placated by his offer to comply with their demand to resign immediately…by resigning “immediately” in September. So after another week of hardly sleeping Hosni – or “Big Hoss,” as he is known to his friends – has wisely decided to step down this very evening. But at only 82 years young, Hoss isn’t hanging up his autocratic spurs just yet.

“I will open a chain of falafel restaurants. The finest the world has ever seen,” said the besieged President.

Yes, Big Hoss has a plan to begin his own franchise: “Pharaoh Phalafel.” Falafels Egyptian style in a comfortable, clean environment with 4000 year old, Ancient Egyptian era-inspired decor. Other candidates for the franchise’s name are reported to have included, “Ptolemy Panini” and “Tutankhamun’s Tasty Treats.”

“All my falafels will be $5 or less, and far superior to that Lebanese garbage I’ve encountered in the United States in my visits there,” explained Mubarak.

“The fundamentals of my business plan include, ‘Taste, cleanliness and timeliness,’” said Hoss, “It’s not fast food. It’s good food served quickly.”

Given that Hosni “Big Hoss” Mubarak has about $2 billion US stashed away for his retirement, he is more than amply funded for his new venture and will not have to take on any partners.

The first location is set to open this summer in La Jolla, California, in a former nail salon tucked nicely between a Verizon store and a Payless Shoesource.

“Those seeking quality footwear at sensible prices will no doubt find my quality falafels at sensible prices quite appealing,” said Hosni, “Anchor stores that align with the vision of Pharaoh Phalafel is the key to my business plan. My Rosetta Stone, so to speak.”

Mubarak invites potential franchisees interested in their own Pharaoh Phalafel business to attend his seminar at the Los Angeles airport Marriot next Friday at 4pm.

Ballroom C.
*the apostrophes are meant to denote that Muby is actually much more of a “dictator” on a “throne” (or perhaps a very ornate desk chair) rather than a “President” in “office.”

Drunk man beats R.I.D.E.

Wednesday, February 9th, 2011

RIDE. Well, actually, “R.I.D.E.” Begun in 1977 as “Reduce Impaired Driving in Etobicoke” the campaign soon became GTA wide and “Etobicoke” became “Everywhere.” Basically, a few cops park their cruisers under a bridge or, better, on a bridge, and make the cars go single file as they talk to each driver. “Good evening, sir. Impaired driving spot check. Have you had anything to drink tonight?” While MADD would be mad as hell with the following advice, TTT suggests this: lie like hell! Given that the nanny state* we are all so familar with recently reduced the limit for being “drunk” from a 0.07 (a rosy 7%) Blood Alcohol Level (or “BAC”) to 0.05 (a teasy 5%) BAC, you can find yourself booked after only two glasses of red wine! Amazingly, even if you’re a male between the ages of 16 (in which case you’re cooked if you register any BAC at all) and 50 a confident “no” will usually carry you through.

That’s it, open your eyes. No, not that much! Don’t look too eager. Now pop a gum while you’re sitting in the car lineup but for God’s sake, be sure to swallow it before you get to the coppah! Gum is a dead giveaway, but better your breath smell like Excel than Absynthe. Now practice a few “No’s.” No, not tonight. Just headin’ home from work. Yes, that’s it! That’s the one! You’re headin’ home from work. Say it again. You slurred. AGAIN! Oh God, one more car. OK. Pretend it’s Monday at noon. OK you’re a full-blown alcoholic and often are slurring by noon Monday…well…pretend you’re 8 years old. “No, not tonight. Just headin’ home from work.” Perfect! OK, showtime.

‘Hi there. Impaired driving check, had anything tonight?’ (Stupid asshole motherf*cker, son-of-a..)

“..No, not tonight. Just headin’ home from work” (Smiling, avoid eye contact. You’re just driiiivin’ home. Just drivin’. Drivin’ home. Sober guy. Sooober man.)

‘You sure? I can smell alcohol on your breath.’ (Damnit! Should have started chewing gum the second I left the bar. Why’d I not hold his stare? He knows you’re guilty. Ah, you’re cooked. COOKED! Avoid that trailer at all costs. Pulled over and brought to the trailer for a breathalyzer and you’re cooked. You’ve had 14 beers for Christ’s sake. Since 6! And it’s 7:34!! No, no. I haven’t had anything. Not a drop.)

“No sir, I don’t drink. I’m a moslem. Allah forbids it.” (Yes, that’s it! Canada loves religious minority crap.)

‘What?’ (Uh-oh. You’re an overweight white guy! How in the hell are you moslem. Oh God. Oh God in heaven. Why’d I say “moslem”? I’m Presbyterian for Christ’s sake! Oh God, you’re so getting a Dewie. You’re F*CKED! Think. Think! Thinkkkk!!!)

“You’re probably smelling the gas from my lawn mower.” (YES! Genius! Genius, genius, genius-)

‘Your lawn mower? What lawn mower??’ (Oh God. He’s not buying it. Sell it. Always be closing. Sell it. Sell iiiit!)

“Yeah, I had my lawnmower in the, uh, backseat. Yesterday.” (Yes! You’re a freakin’ GENIUS! I’m telling you, er, me!)

‘In the backseat of this Golf? A lawn mower?’ (Oh man. This is NOT working. Don’t break now. Keep it goin’. Keeeep it goiiiin’!)

“Uh, yeah. I didn’t want it to roll around in the trunk.” (Oh man you are smooth. Smoooooth! Sell it. Stick with it!)

‘OK, that’s fine sir, your lawn mower. But the thing is: I smell alcohol in here, not gas.’ (Jesus Christ who is this kid? Super trooper son of a BITCH! Lemme go, lemme go, lemme go…oh gawwwd)

“Oh, it’s a, uh, an ethanol, uh, ethyl alcohol powered. A Dyson.” (Yes, yes, YES! YE- no, NO! That’s a vacuum cleaner! He has a maid. He has a maid. Please God let this guy have a maid! No, he lives at home. His mom vacuum. He lives with his girlfriend. She vacuums. He doesn’t know vacuums. He doesn’t know lawn mowers. He doesn’t know vacuums and he doesn’t know lawn mowers. Who’s to say there’s not a Dy-)

‘- uh, your lawn mower runs on ethyl alcohol?’ (Oh man, where is this going. He’s not buying it. He knows vacuum. He knows lawn mowers! Of course he’d know vacuums and he’d know lawn mowers! Oh Christ, I draw the one cop who knows about vacuums and knows about lawn mowers! Oh man, I’m going to jail.)

“Yeah, it’s a Dy, er, it’s new. It’s a new kind. But I was taking it back because it, uh, it broke.” (You slurred. You sound drunk. No, you’re tired. TIRED. You’re just tired.)

‘So you haven’t had anything to drink?’ (You’re almost home. Take it home! You’re almost home. Oh God, please just let me get home.)

“No sir.” (Yes. Short and sweet. You’re almost there!)

‘OK, have a good night.’ (YES! YES! YES!)

“Uh, OK thanks. You too.” (YESYESYES!!! Now don’t peel out. Nice and smooth. Watch those pine…pine-cone things or whatever. Hmmm, do I still have any left from that 2-4 in my fridge?)

And that is how a drunk man beat R.I.D.E.
*nanny “province,” in this case (to be precise).

TTT’s Big Winners!

Tuesday, February 8th, 2011

The following regular readers have won an all-expenses paid trip to Marine Land in beautiful Niagara Falls, Canada! You too can win our monthly TTT prize simply by reading everyday! February’s prize is a $20 coupon to Kelsey’s.
Kelsey’s. Is that an old license plate on the wall? Wow, this place is crazy fun! Hmmm, frozen cheeseburger. Yum!

The Toronto Thymes’ Big Winners:

Lemuel Bullerwell
Fredric Kokoska
Burton Haynes
Claudine Maddaloni
Perri Speers
Wendi Cuadros
Lupe Highland
Deandra Oquenda
Fredric Bambenek
Leandro Hester
Hugh Policz
Julian Sitterding
Cassandra Detorres
Clyde Mccague
Mona Smith
Edison Habibi
Pia Trump
Derrick Locke
Gabby Love
Zane Swaynos
Willette Closs
Eusebio Coburn
Kaylene Canty
Edmund Vernazza
Ernie Freie
Shanell Bea
Celeste Funai
Nickolas Mcelmarry
Gene Mersman
Moses Pacas
Audrie Stegmann
Losartan Cozaar

Punxsutawney Phil fails to see own shadow or looming threat of China

Thursday, February 3rd, 2011

Everyone’s favorite psychic rodent meteorologist, Punxsutawney Phil, did not see his own shadow nor the looming threat of a rising China yesterday. Yes, February 2nd was Groundhog Day again, the one day where all eyes are on the small town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania and its inhabitants rightly feel like real Hollywood celebrities. Made famous by the redoubtable Bill Murray classic Groundhog Day, the ceremony is just as ├╝ber-quaint and lame as it is presented in the film. Residents, white-bred Winnebago owners who had a visit on their bucket list, and a 270 million strong television audience were overjoyed when ol’Phil didn’t see his shadow, which for some reason means that our winter weather should end early.*

“Get out the lawnmower!” said a grinning idiot.

“Yippee!” added another overweight moron.

“Wanna see why Phil’s house is called Gobbler’s Knob?” asked a smirking high school student of a moderately attractive soccer mom.

Unfortunately, the prescient Phil failed to take note of China’s geo-political ascent and its transparent aspiration to challenge the US for global supremacy both militarily and economically.

“That the US is locked in a symbiotic relationship where China is increasingly the site of its manufactured goods as well as its largest creditor state next to Japan and Britain, in that order, was overlooked by Phil,” said Simon Pinkerton, U Penn Political Science Chair, “Once China has developed a consumer base of its own, it can deliver a double karate chop to the US by shutting out the cheap goods Americans are now essentially addicted to and calling in the $1 trillion in debt, all at once. A surprising omission, given that Phil is usually quite adept at perceiving how the sands are shifting in the global balance of power.

Continued Pinkerton, “Hell, in 1989 he saw his shadow as well as what he termed, ‘The imminent dissolution of the USSR due to economic and political liberalization that are in fundamental opposition to the maintenance of a totalitarian state.’ Back in 1975 he didn’t see his shadow and also mentioned that he didn’t see, ‘…much more time for South Vietnam‘s continued existence given the dissipation of the political will to back the country in the US.’ Saigon was taken just two months later.”

In years past, Punxsutawney Phil has complimented his Stephen Kingsian weather futuresight with predictions that include the dawning of the Age of the Automobile, the Great Crash of 1929, the pet rock, 80s New Wave synth, the rise and fall of khaki pants in the 1990′s and the coming of Brangelina.

“The mayor says he may have heard Phil mention something about ‘an Apocalyptic tidal wave in 2011,’” added Pinkerton, “but he can’t be sure. The mayor was pretty drunk at the time.”

*Animal-loving statisticians inform TTT that this correlation has held true 56% of the time since the tradition began 125 years ago so, uh, yeah: that preening tard was almost certainly right: get out your John Deere riding mower…oh, a pushboy are ya? I pity you.

Egyptian protests over DirectTV continue unabated

Wednesday, February 2nd, 2011

President Mubarak has vowed to “resign”…eight months from now. An interesting choice of words for a “President” with 30 years in office. “Wow, my Ra, what a landslide! A full 98% turnout with 0.3% dissenting, according to my cronies! And they say the democratic process is a sham. Pleaaase.” In the doublespeak of dictators, this resignation basically means that Mubarak will leave later this year for Switzerland or Saudi Arabia before his subjects drag him out into the street and string him up on a lamppost. While he was never as stupidly-opulent as the Shah of Iran or other more notable members of his cohort, he certainly has 5% or so of GDP hidden away at Credit Suisse in gold bullion as a nice retirement kitty. Interestingly, while his thuggish police – instrumental for decades in suppressing freedom – received the brunt end of most of the popular violence, Mubarak can thank the common Egyptian’s deep respect for the army for not being made a swinging corpse already. The army enjoys this respect out of the memory of it “taking on” the eternal enemy Israel – however unsuccessfully – in 1967 and 1973.* Of course, ol’Muby also cannily promoted some key senior army officers into political posts to keep this card in play after dismissing his entire cabinet.

One wonders, will Mubarak use his remaining eight months to organize a smooth transition in government and pack his bags** or to (attempt to) re-cement his hold on power? We’ll take a wild guess and go with the latter.

But what was the cause of this popular uprising on the part of ordinary Egyptians? Did their dissatisfaction with the blatant absence (sham) of a democratic process finally reach a boiling point? Was long-running economic stagnation and soaring unemployment exacerbated by the current economic turmoil past the point of traditional, Egyptian fatalistic apathy? Were Egyptians largely disenchanted and alarmed by the program of peace in place with Israel? Are hard-line Islamists lurking behind the scenes? Is the “Muslim Brotherhood” just chomping at the bit to install a faux-democracy-come-theocracy? No. Egyptians were denied DirectTV.

Indeed, Mubarak has since the 90′s prohibited DirectTV, deeming it an unwelcome US-dominated foreign intrusion into Egyptian airwaves. In the face of an overwhelming popular desire to have Die Hard or The Big Lebowski on at any given time in the day, this in retrospect was tremendously unwise. Instead, Mubarak extolled the virtues of “excellent” programs such as “The Al-Jazeera Variety Hour, featuring the Jihadi Players” and the popular Qatari melodrama “The Veils of Our Live.”

“Shrek 3 is on HBO2 tonight in HD and I never even got to see Shrek 1 in my living room,” said Ammon Nasser, as he swung a brickbat and concussed an 18 year old, illiterate policeman.

Hoisted upon a Ramses II tank by cheering civilians and soldiers alike, Nobel prize winner and most likely swarthy-Vaclav Havel candidate, Mohamed El-Baradei, thundered, “The people demand to see Secret Lives of Cats on National Geographic Channel HD and the people have spoken!”

In related news, Vodafone’s stock price rose another 20 points today as the company continues to deny Egyptians cellular and internet service, as per the firm request of the Mubarak government, which hopes to stifle the protester’s communicative abilities via cell phone or Twitter.

“Doing what we’re told has always been a fundamental part of our corporate culture,” said Rudy Hess, PR Officer for Vodafone.
*Mubarak became President in 1981 after Anwar Sadat was assassinated by his own soldiers during an army parade for pursuing peace with Israel after his “best-try” at defeating the Israelis in 1973 failed. Clearly the army thought this to be less of a “prudent” course of action and more of a “cowardly” one.

**Though he’s probably done a little packing- a few priceless BC-era gems from the Cairo collection in a Samsonite should he hear shooting in the hall and have to sprint to his bedroom bat pole and then onto his Presidential Jet Ski to speed up towards the mouth of the Nile to freedom.

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