Henee Family Balloon Hoax History

Henee Family Balloon Hoax History

Denver, CO – Richard Henee, of Balloon hoax fame, admitted to coming from a long line of Balloon Hoaxers.  In 1947, Richard’s grandfather, George Henee, decided it would be great fun to fly a UFO shaped balloon around his Roswell, NM ranch.  The next day, George told the press about an alien craft in the desert and a huge government cover up. He had forced his wife and children to eat several thermometers the day before and relayed how his family had fallen ill upon visiting the UFO crash site. 

The line of Henee balloon hoaxes goes back much much further. In Siberia circa 1909, Richard’s great grandfather, Alexei “Borscht” Henee, filled a massive balloon with methane and may single-heneedly have caused the Tunguska Blast.  Henee also believes that Ezekiel’s Bible vision of a fiery sky-chariot was attributed to Pontius ‘Flatulentus’ Henee III. 

When asked if he had any regrets about his ill-conceived endeavor, Richard Henee said “I should have used methane.  But making my family subsist on burritos and warm Tab Cola for six months just didn’t cut it.”  Richard corrected himself, “Well, it cut it, but not in the intended manner.”

Henee claims he’s “just getting started” and vows that the Henees will one day master the energy of the hinee, and added, “I definitely plan to go out with a bang.”

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Dear Ghetto Shaman,

I am sure about only two things after reading one of your works: the inner paths to enlightenment have nothing to do with a woman’s privates, and you know nothing about the universal truths.

Sally

Laredo, TX

Dear Sally,

The truth needs few words, aka WRONG! Read my book Shamans, Sages, and Sangrias and give me a call…around last call.  And in the immortal words of Melharishi Brooks, don’t wear anything complicated.

The Ghetto Shaman

An American Werewolf at Zeta

An American Werewolf at Zeta
Mick Zano

This yarn is embellished approximately one-to-five percent due to age-related cognitive-decline, also known in certain Discord circles as Dave Atsals’ Syndrome (DAS).  This tale is going to sound fictitious, like many of my stories, but I can assure you that those who knew me in the eighties and nineties would understand.  You see, I settled down in the twenty-first century, when Dean Moriarty somehow morphed quietly into Ward Cleaver. Anyway, back in the Bruce Springsteenesque glory days, the night was dark and stormy.  OK, the moon was very full, which may or may not have inspired me to dress like Lon Cheney’s version of the Wolfman.  You know, old school.  This was before American Werewolf in London, before Underworld, or even before Old School, for that matter.  Back in those days we only had Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, and Warren Zevon to frighten us.  If that didn’t work, my GPA usually did the trick.  

After my transformation, I headed down to the Zeta sorority house with my then girlfriend, Whatshername.  Note to self: it’s never a good idea to take a date to a sorority house party.  It marked the beginning of the end of our relationship. As the party waned, I exited stage left, minus my girlfriend or any of the Zeta sisters.  As I stumbled back to my dorm, I couldn’t help but notice how the soccer field net looked like a massive, yet at the same time, very inviting hammock.  As it turned out, in a pinch, soccer nets can sufficiently fulfill the role of a hammock.  The only problem being, police and or other law enforcement officials do not feel that soccer nets should be used in such a capacity in the wee hours of the morning by drunken lycanthropic college students. Suddenly, two large high beams silhouetted me and my hammock-antics against a rocky outcropping on the far side of the field.  I raised my cup in salute to my hammocked-self and may well have attempted shadow puppets, before the significance of the light show sunk in.

When the situation became apparent, I shifted into character by hissing and growling at the intrusion and then I leapt down from the soccer net.  Attempting this today, would mark the end of my tale—unless I did something funny at the police station, which has been known to happen. But, not at all amused, the coppers exited their vehicle and slammed shut the car doors.  Still in character, I sprinted across the field.  Once to the wood line, to my shock and amazement, the two officers were right behind me with bobbing flashlights.  I snarled at the pursuers and made for the woods at the corner of the field and then scrambled up a fairly steep embankment.  Again to my dismay, the bobbing lights followed.  Now picture this if you will: still growling and hissing with atmospheric bobbing head lights in hot pursuit, I made my way up that mountain.  The whole time I was thinking, “this is way too cool!”

Some mist on the ground would have been perfect!  I stopped to take a leak, which wasn’t exactly dry ice, but it couldn’t hurt.

When I reached the crest of the hill, I came upon a small clearing at the summit.  The lights of my pursuers finally faded as the woods grew still.  In the moonlight, my eyes focused on a hodgepodge of very old and decrepit tombstones.  A whirring and flapping of membranous wings split the night as the sound of a distant arcane church bell gonged thrice with an unearthly resonance across the ancient necropolis (OK, this sentence is just a Lovecraft tribute. They happen from time to time.  I’m trying to get help, honest).

But I had, quite unwittingly, entered some old cemetery—dressed as wolf, on Halloween night; chased there by the bobbing lights of the authorities (do you begin to understand why my date bolted?).  For a short time I relished the moonlit atmosphere.  Then I did what any good werewolf should; I bayed at the moon until my throat grew raw.  Upon heading back down the hill, I feasted on the flesh of the Zeta girls in a carnal and cannibalistic frenzy.  OK, that part didn’t happen either…at least I’m reasonably sure.   I wasn’t horribly fond of the Zeta sisters, so maybe…

Happy Halloween!

I WANT TO BELIEVE:  American Digest Isn’t Abducting Our X-Files Shit

Philadelphia, PA – CEO of the Daily Discord, Pierce Winslow, is not playing games. He wants to send a clear message to American Digest, who, last week, posted a picture eerily similar to the Discord’s. That message being that this behavior won’t be tolerated.

“The t-shirts are the main concern,” said Winslow. “We could easily sell 5 or 6 of those at a net profit of something ranging toward a cool Grant.”

“A grand?”

“No, a Grant….fifty bucks,” clarified Winslow. “So send us fifty bucks, American Digest, and we’re even. Or, you’ll be hearing from a Mr. Cohen.”

Mr. Winslow was asked if he would still sue if the picture in American Digest proved to be posted before his own. He was also asked why the Daily Discord fails to copyright anything.

“Details!” replied Winslow. “Copyrighting is for pussies. We stole the balloon pic from the Drudge Report, fair and square, and then Sean Kelsey worked his Photoshop magic that very night. It happened like this: our guy Zano thinks of the idea as he’s watching that silver balloon sail across the Colorado sky. He thinks of this stuff because he’s not well, you see. His thoughts are then broadcast across the noosphere, amplifying throughout the morphic resonance.”

When asked to explain that last statement, Mr. Winslow went into a tangential rant involving Carl Jung, Teilhard de Chardin and that old ‘Hey Vern’ guy.

When asked how he plans to prove damages in court, Winslow said, “Look, our post is better. The morphic resonance acts like a filter so, by the time their guy thought of it, the thing is dumbed down a bit. ‘Balloon Boy’ doesn’t even appear anywhere on their picture. So in a few weeks, people are going to look at their t-shirt and say, what the hell is that a giant portabella mushroom in the sky? Sure it might have some appeal in certain psychedelic circles, but for the most part it’s crap! Now, if you will excuse me, Matt Drudge is texting me in ALL CAPS.”

Let’s Make Sure This Never Happens Again by Making Another Shitty Law

Mick Zano

When something bad happens, like a Crank feature article, our instincts are to say, let’s make sure something like this never happens again, usually via a better life through litigation.  But this build-a-new-law strategy is usually counterproductive.  Have you heard about the family who took pictures of their kids in the tub?  They turned some glossies into Wal-Mart to develop and ended up losing their kids for a month to CPS.  Who knew long term babysitting could be so easy?  Fox News, sensationalism with zero forethought, dons its red cap of justice and flies in for the rescue.  The same shortsighted binary-thinking imbeciles who championed the laws that made this fiasco possible are now the most surprised by the ramifications of their deeds. Sadly, this is their usual MO (hint: they’re not horribly bright).

Bill O’Rielly flits scantily clad teens all day long on his program to prove how much he hates and despises such practices.  Mr. Reaction Formation would have called anyone who questioned any aspect of the constitutionality of child porn laws a pedophile.  Yes/no, right/wrong, good/bad.  You are either with the pedophiles or against them.  Sith happens.  If someone ever said, “but this law might be draconian because if someone innocently goes to Wal-Mart to develop some pictures of their kids in the tub”—(Insert your favorite O’Rielly rant here, pedophile appeaser!) 

People are doing a lot of time for pics on their hard drive. No proof of distribution, no proof they tried to go near any child, no proof of anything, really.  In fact, someone jumps onto your unsecured wireless from next door and they still come after you.  These have turned into modern day witch hunts.  By all means, monitor the internet and nail these perpetrators to the wall, but can we stop before we arrest grandma at the Fotomat booth? (Remember those?)  According to Megan’s Law anyone possessing a nude picture of someone deemed under age is subject to five years in jail (per picture).  Why isn’t this Wal-Mart family in jail then?  Throw the book at em’.  My parents need to report to prison and yours probably should too.  Megan’s Law was another one of those classic let’s never let this happen again moments. 

Did you ever end up on the wrong website?  You’ll have five years to think about your egregious clicking.  Remember that photo attachment that was big laughs at the office?  She might not be 18.  We’ll let a jury decide.  That should tack on five more years to the tally.  No one apparently IDs these girls, it’s based on the subjectivity of the jury.  So I’m sure Howard Stern’s ‘collection’ could land him in jail until long after the sun depletes its supply of hydrogen.  Forget Howard Stern, I own Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy.  According to the letter of the law, I should turn myself in, along with the million or so other Zep fans, on child pornography charges. I asked a federal attorney during a trial once (I was there professionally, really), how does this shit happen?  He said that any politician who tries to reform child porn regs is doomed.  The media will spin the shit out of it and paint that politician as being pro-child pornography. 

Enter Fox News.  Fox, particularly Bill O’Rielly, championed this bullshit the loudest.  Now people like him are the most outraged by the results of their idiocy as it spills into one family’s Wal-Mart nightmare.  There are quite enough actual perpetrators out there to keep law enforcement busy, isn’t there?  I don’t think marching half the country into jail right now, wrongly, is the best way to handle this issue.  I had the same conversation with the Crank a couple of years ago.  He sided with O’Rielly (imagine that) and I’m sure this Wal-Mart story outraged him as much as any Foxer.  As if limiting child pornography laws to, er…perpetrators is a bad thing.  But, to be fair, there are only those two switches in their head. 

As for behavioral health, one case in Arizona, Arnold vs. Sarns, has brought the system to its knees. Two kids died at the hands of a serious mentally ill individual and it’s all over. Granted, this guy should have been monitored better, but the real culprit is this: society has never made this a priority—never has, never will.  Behavioral health is under funded, increasingly more so by the minute, and with our let’s never let this happen again mentality, we cripple the few case managers left who could actually do something about it.

Foxers are also the first one’s to go: “Why wasn’t this nut being watched before he killed all of those nuns!”  Well, Foxeteers, as the least common denominator, you’ve systematically helped to decimate services.  Remember?  You championed each and every budget cut, when in reality every dollar spent in behavioral health is likely to save society three.  But they’re not interested in the facts.  They’d rather continue breaking news down into tiny shards of sensationalism.  Good luck with that. 

Before that ‘nut’ killed those two kids he received two phone calls and his case manager attempted one home visit.  They couldn’t find the guy and shortly thereafter the two kids are dead.  Today, post the Arnold vs. Sarns decision, post the investigation on mental health-land, post all the revamping, post the additional monitors, post the additional forms to fill out, post the misallocated dollars. Today this same man would receive one phone call (we’d fudge the other one) and, forget the home visit…at 30 mph we’d throw a rock with a note on it that says ‘please call us’ as we speed passed toward client number 412.  Feel safer society?  This isn’t litigation, this is shitigation.  Hint: if a case manager has considerably more paperwork due to shitigation and is even further under funded, they’re going to see their clients even less.  This isn’t calculus, kids.  We do need monitors, but not to death.  And we do need to fund things as a society that are important, or guess what?  Shit is going to happen.  I would like to see a senator or congressman try case managing several hundred severely mentally ill people for a day.  You can film it for entertainment purposes. It would be rather like listening to a baseball announcer broadcasting a hockey game.

Invariably, the overblown reaction to never let this happen again causes a legal shit storm that further handicaps the very system that erred in the first place.  This results in more, not less, people getting substandard care or, for our first example, police focusing their time on grandma at the Fotomat booth instead of area pedophiles.  This shitigation is happening in every quadrant of our society.

One doctor a little hungover in Cleveland makes a mistake and, after court, all docs from sea to shining sea have another form to fill out. End result: my one minute of actual doc time is whittled down to forty-five seconds.  Is this form going to stop the next hungover doctor from making a similar mistake somewhere?  Hell no.  That’s called supervision. That involves that doctor and his supervisor (or in this case, his bartender). But national forms are fun!  Kill a forest for victory!  So each lawsuit designed to help protect the consumer actually puts and increasingly debilitating strain on the entire system.  As a therapist, if I have to fill out one more form I’m going to just start mailing my clients a letter that says, “Tell me about your mother” with an enclosed bill. 

 I think there should be a law about over reacting.  That’s it!  I’m going to make a law about over reacting, so that this never happens again!

Afghani Troop-Level Decision Shifts From Accelerated Contemplation Phase to Advanced Hesitation Phase

Washington, DC – President Barak Obama announced today that Operation Troop Tarry has moved into the final part of the third phase, wherein the decision to schedule the pre-meeting to establish several meetings between the Obama Administration and several key military personnel can commence.

“Our troops on the ground in Afghanistan can not wait another minute,” said Obama. “Due to the urgent need for a decision regarding troop levels, we are skipping Assignment Afghani Adjourn and moving directly to Project Prolong Executive Endeavor.” 

When asked what that meant, Obama tapped on his teleprompter and muttered something about Bible thumping hickwads.

Apparently, the first in a series of nearly scheduled meetings will initiate Operation Outlook Express, wherein the secretaries of all prospective attendees will establish a time and place for the pre-meeting round table discussion (PMRTD), where all agenda items for the Stall Symposium will be finalized. 

Obama assured the press, “Once the agenda is set for the pre-scheduling of the meeting’s meeting, our Shock and Defer Campaign can kick into full procrastination mode.”

When asked directly when General McChrystal can expect an answer on troop levels in Afghanistan, Obama replied, “When does the Mayan calendar end again?”

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Dear Ghetto Shaman,

How do I know when I’ve found the right teacher?  There are so many fakes and charlatans out there.  This is a big deal.  Any suggestions?  

Staci

West Bend, WI

Dear Staci,

Choosing the right teacher is one of the biggest decisions of your life!  The right teacher traditionally strings half-eaten chicken wings around his neck and smells of alcohol.  And remember, the first step in the journey to self-discovery begins with my latest philosophical treatise: Combining Ancient Wisdom with Hot Girl-on-Girl Action

The Ghetto Shaman

Rick (I’m) Right (Dave You’re Wrong) Pernick

Rick Right Pernick

You, Dave Atsals, have listened to the liberal rational for socialized health care.  You’ve drank the proverbial Kool Aid, so to speak, and it’s a batch the Ghetto Shaman wouldn’t even touch.  Like a good Pelosi minion, you’ve accepted the premise that we’ve survived the last 240 years in spite of free-market capitalism. How could we ever have survived the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Civil War, the Spanish American War, two World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, Persian Gulf twice, pandemics, the depression, polio, and yes, even eight seasons of American Idol?!  Without Obamacare, this country should have been dead 200 years ago.  How the hell did we ever survive without the chosen one?  …without the Messiah, the once and future clown? If our healthcare system is so horrible, then why do we have people coming to America for medical treatment from all over the world…for what?…the hospital Jello?  Granted, the hospital Jello is good and there are so many places in a hospital room where a green cube of Jello would look great stuck to, but I really think there is more to it than that.  I know there are other colors, but you’re making light of an important topic, Dave, and I won’t have it!  Frankly, this issue is beyond the scope of all gelatin products and their derivatives. 

We need reform, Dave, but we need the kind of reform that gets government regulation out of the healthcare industry, entirely.  No Jello for you!  It has no business being there, kind of like you have no business frequenting those ‘clubs’ of yours (which reminds me, Dave, we really need to talk).

We need to be able to buy insurance across state lines; we need to get rid of trial lawyers, liberal judges, and their junk science that makes malpractice insurance premiums unaffordable for doctors, who then have to pass the cost of these premiums onto their patients because some dumb-assed broad was stupid enough to put her coffee between her legs instead of the car cup holder.  Can you say Scarbucks?  She should have been liable for being a moron, nothing more.  Hey, that’s an idea. Instead of taxing our healthcare, let’s tax stupidity. I’m afraid such a tax won’t bode too well for you, Dave.  You may have to move back in with your parents.  Oh, that’s right, you’re already back with your parents.  You see, no harm done.

But back to taxing stupidity, I think I need another blood pressure pill. Maybe if I become a good democrat, I can get some rich guy to pay for it.  Cubes of Jello all around folks, on someone else. 

Did you know that if you rip a Jello cube in half, it sticks to the ceiling better?  No shit.  It really does.  Try it when you’re in a hospital bed and having some other tax payer flip for the whole inpatient stay.  Just flip the Jello right off the spoon, well, half the Jello (you must cut it in half, remember. It’s like you’re not even listening) and then you can count how long it sticks to the ceiling.  Stay as long as you want in that room.  Get all the tests you want.  Have them X-Ray the damn Jello for all Obamacare.   Maybe there are bones in Jello.  It’s worth a few extraneous MRIs.  Don’t worry, you’re probably not paying for it.

Monty Python Turns Forty! Discord Staffer Laments of Life Pre-Python

Nowhere, AZ – “Life before Python was a terrible ordeal,” stated Mick Zano to reporters.  “My first two years without them…”

Zano paused and sobbed for a time.  He believes he suffered from a deep clinical depression during that mind-numbingly bleak period four decades ago.

“I just kind of laid around a lot.  I didn’t talk much and I cried a lot.”

Zano claimed it was a lot like college. “I blocked it out. I remember next to nothing.”

When asked if he used drugs or alcohol to cope with the situation, Zano replied, “I had a binkie that I called binkie…I used that almost constantly.  I kind of hid my troubles in a pair of breasts, if you know what I mean.  But I really don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

When asked if Monty Python has influenced his work, Zano said, “Python?  Hell no.  I just regularly cut and paste their shit into my work, so I wouldn’t say influence exactly. I don’t want to talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough whopper!  I fart in your general direction!  Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries. Now go away or I will taunt you a second time-eh.”

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Dude,

WTF? What is the problem with the Thai stick? Ever since Clinton got back from North Korea with them fine Asian honeys that were “very grateful, he, he” I aint been able to get dat fine Thai stick. Hook me up, dude!

The Wolfenstein and his girly girls

Dear Whatsisface and his chicky chicks,

I’m confused.  Thai stick is everywhere now, even in convenience stores.  I swear by the stuff.  If I’m on a business luncheon and I get food on my tie, it takes even the toughest stains right out.  I carry a tube of Thai Stick® in my house and one for the glove box in my car.  Consider yourself hooked up, dude and dudettes.

The Ghetto Shaman

Wayne Gretzky Goes from the Great One to the Late One: Calls it Quits without Actually Calling

Phoenix, AZ – Wayne Gretzky “forgot” to tell everyone he didn’t want to play coach anymore and left the Phoenix Coyotes in the lurch, right before the launch of the 2009-2010 season. He was apparently doing some soul-searching involving prostitutes. He later told reporters his alarm clock didn’t go off, the bus was late, and his dog may have eaten part or all of his roster. All I can say is, with or without Wayne Gretzky, the Glendale Arena has Guinness on tap and affordable seats. Outside of the arena is West Gate with bars and restaurants of all shapes and sizes. The Yard House has over a hundred beers on tap! It’s a great sporting event. In fact, I have yet to actually make it inside for a game. Wayne Gretzky was the greatest hockey player of all time, but not the best business manager. He even let me drive the Zamboni before and after games, which shows a stunning lack of common sense.

Gretzky told reporters “The Puck Stops Here.”

He then said several other bad hockey metaphors before we both drove the Zamboni. That’s not a metaphor; two guys can drive a Zamboni. It’s good clean fun.

A Change I Can Bereave In

The Crank

I just love med changes. It’s like “let’s see what parts of my body and/or mind THESE little fuckers will decide to play with next.” It’s always a hoot. Well, as I sat home recovering from my latest foray into the netherworld of psychotropic medication (NPM), I decided to watch CSPAN for a while, never having done so. I have heard that there are two things you never want to watch being made, laws and sausage. In my past life, in the retail food industry, I saw sausages and frankfurters being made many times. Now, having seen how laws are made, I prefer the sausage thing. While it is definitely NOT for the easy queasy, it is quite interesting. Various parts of “formerly living things” (the parts you won’t see brightly packaged at you local Safeway Meat Dept.) processed into beige goo, inserted into intestines of other “formerly living things”, like libertards, and cooked, salted, and food-colored into something that looks good on a bun. Now there’s something to watch between games on Sunday. Seeing laws made, on the other hand, not so much.

I have seen two basic series of events. For the first part, one party had the “goods” on another party’s guy, and wanted to discuss the guy’s problems on the “floor” of the House. The other party, having the majority, wanted to avert any discussions of the guy’s problems, and did so quickly by passing off the “problem” to the House Ethics Committee (A.K.A. the black hole of democracy). The whole thing took less than fifteen minutes…efficiency at its finest.

The second part involved the issue of awarding U.S. citizenship to a Polish person posthumously.  He was apparently heroic some eons ago during the Polish Mexican War or some such. For the rest of the afternoon, most of the members presented their very own hour long speech as to why this is truly the most Earth shaking legislation EVER. It was like a bad trip during Woodstock. I swear I heard the faint sounds of “don’t take the brown acid. It’s not good for you. Take the white acid only.” repeated over a loudspeaker in the background of my mind. I also heard “The white zone is for loading only; mind the gap”, and track two from my Iron Butterfly 8-track.  But, it could just be the new meds talking.

After enduring this for some time I reflected on the sheer amount of problematic individuals in both the Congress and the executive branches of our present government. But it did solve for me the mystery behind the disappearance of McCain’s campaign managers. They are now vetting for Obama and the congressional Dems.

You got the guy who is at the head of the House Ways and Means committee, you know, Mr. Way off on his own income taxes (two million dollars).  “Oops, sorry, ah he he he, forgot to carry the 1.” If you don’t like him, it’s because you are racist. 

You got the head of the House Banking Committee who got caught running a male brothel out of his Massachusetts townhouse. You know, the guy whose boyfriend was running the Fanny Mae back when they were asked to make subprime loans to poor people to get them into homeownership, even if it was temporary. The guy that almost single-handedly caused the recession. The guy with no teeth, ‘cause his boyfriend likes it that way. “I’m thucking wabbit dicks, huhuhuhuhu”.

You got the lady that got to be House Speaker. Wow, Pickins must have been Slim (sorry for that one). Doctor Sardonicus’ old lady.  Michael Jackson in a pants suit.  You know, the bitch from Libertard Prime.  Then you got the Senate Majority leader, whose own constituents hate him. It seems that what happens in Vegas goes to Washington and then fucks everything not in Vegas.

Then you got Czars. The FCC Diversity Czar, Mark Lloyd, is the guy who says the Fairness Doctrine doesn’t go far enough. He’s actually advocated forcing people to step down from their media posts so they can be replaced with minorities. An avowed Marxist, he wants to “overthrow the capitalist system” itself. Geeh, I bet he’d be a real hit at Constitutional Convention re-enactments.

You have the Regulatory Czar, who I believe oversees all fiber products, saying: “The absence of a European-style social welfare state is certainly connected with the widespread perception among the white majority that the relevant programs would disproportionately benefit African Americans (and more recently Hispanics).”  Who ever said fair ever had to be fair?  The Obama czar’s controversial comments were made in his 2004 book “The Second Bill of Rights”. In the book, he openly argues for bringing socialism to the U.S. and even lends support to communism (although, enough fiber can really help bring on a much-needed case of the Trotskys).

You got the Safe Schools Czar who is an admitted admirer of Henry Hay, the founder of NAMBLA, the National Man-Boy Love ASSociation. This guy actually wrote a forward in the book, while bending over: “The queering of elementary schools.”  This guy openly admits wanting to teach the benefits of homosexuality to elementary school students. No lie, folks.  Look it up, if you can still read. (Mommy, how do you spell sodomy?)

You have the Energy and Environment Czar who worked on the Socialist International’s Commission for a Sustainable World Society, which argues that the global community must work collectively to address environmental policies. They orchestrated private discussions between the White House and auto industry officials on vehicle fuel efficiency standards, while keeping their talks as quiet as possible.

Mary Nichols, the head of the California Air Resources Board, said, “We put nothing in writing, ever.”

There’s that transparency thing again.  And Obama hisself, the first Used Car Salesman ever elected to the White House.

I ♥Liquid Dinosaurs

The Crank

Top Ten Pierce Winslow Pet Peeves

  1. Mick Zano
  2. Plural of RPM is RPM, not RPMs moron
  3. The same thing goes for MPG
  4. The weekly results of Dancing with the Stars is not news, and certainly is not the top story when 200 people die in an earthquake
  5. The same thing goes for American Idol
  6. Republicans
  7. Democrats
  8. Healthcare reform without a public option. I mean really; what’s the fucking point?
  9. What part of “if you like your current plan you can keep it” don’t you understand, dickless?
  10. The fact that people that are stupid enough to think that there would actually be Death Panels are allowed to vote

Austin Police Chief to Criminalize Bloggers!

Austin, TX – Austin Police Chief, Art Acevedo, says he is ready to “take on” blogs and will be perusing the comment sections on local media internet sites.  Acevedo believes his police department has been misrepresented in the blogosphere on numerous issues.

“A lot of my people feel it is time to take these people on,” said Acevedo. “When people are willfully misleading and lying, they are pretty much cowards anyway because they are doing so under the cloak of anonymity.” 

The Crank—which is his god given name, mind you—had this to say: “Hey, Buford T. Justice, leave them blogs alone!”

Pierce Winslow, CEO of the Daily Discord, is “highly offended that Chief Acevedo keeps soliciting his children for sex.”

Mick Zano would like to add that he “hopes he comes clean on the bestiality charges soon.”

Chief Acevedo went on to say that he “likes to where pretty pink dresses and gets obnoxiously drunk during business hours on the taxpayer’s dime.”

The Daily Discord’s own, Bald Tony, has discovered the chilling truth that the first amendment means nothing to this man, and, apparently “when he’s not luring young women to their demise, he likes to lure young boys to their demise.”

In his own defense, Chief Acevedo had this to say, “I am fascinated with human excrement, but won’t seek help because of my deeply spiritual Wiccan belief system.”

The Daily Discord welcomes the Acevedo lawsuit to come.

“We’re kind of surprised the Maria Shriver lawsuit never panned out,” said Winslow. Despite the inability to get sued by anyone, Winslow remains optimistic.  “I believe any publicity is good publicity—right, goat-humping cop guy?”