Monthly Archives: July 2012

So You Want to Be a Bounty Hunter?

by Ertel • July 30, 2012

Criminals and evildoers the world over: beware! Law abiding citizens: sleep soundly tonight knowing that in your neck-of-the-woods, local criminals (mostly the petty variety like vandals, jaywalkers, and internet pirates) will be taking a healthy dose of justice—justice served with a side-order of spit-talkin’ Dirty Harry style ‘plum mad dog mean’ true grit…I have absolutely no idea what that is even supposed to mean.

Inspired by my recent obsession with Dog the Bounty Hunter, I’ve taken the all-important first step toward becoming a bounty hunter myself. One must prepare mentally for the long road ahead. I’ve committed to things before but, after a brief period of some obsession or another, I usually lose interest in five to seven minutes. I was not about to let this important endeavor, too, become a bona-fide bounty hunter, suffer the same fate. I was in this for the long haul, and I had work to do. I stocked up on water, Twizzlers, and Fun Dip, and sat down for the legally required 45-minute instructional seminar/slide-show entitled, “So you want to be a bounty hunter?”

The first obstacle I would need to overcome was the fact that physically, no matter how hard I sucked in my gut while flexing, I’m just not a very intimidating presence. Me, Mr. Huntin’ that Bounty, comes equipped with all the musculature of a roll of wet paper towels. Anyone who’s ever shaken my hand with even the slightest hint of pressure—after bearing witness to the sobbing and the clutching of my wounded hand—has been known to remark, “Good God…I didn’t even squeeze that hard. He’s like a human Faberge egg” or “I’ve held baby chicks in my hand with more pressure than that!”
Clearly some sort of workout was in order. I chose Zoomba. In retrospect, I shoulda’ picked Tae-Bo or at the very least Pilates. Since me and intense physical activity were clearly NOT on speaking terms, I decided the best defense was a good offense. Why actually “BE” a no nonsense shit-talkin’ bounty hunter, when you can just give off the appearance of one? This also posed a problem for me, because, in addition to not being an intimidating presence, I also have a complete inability to look menacing. No matter how severely I furrow my brow, I still give off the appearance of one searching for his “bounty” …the quicker-picker-upper, er…to wipe the hot sauce from my face after knockin’ down a dozen or so hot wings.

Hey, maybe leather’s the key? So after a trip to the local Harley Davidson store—extremely convenient for ALL of your leather needs—I outfitted myself in a tough looking studded biker’s jacket, a leather pork-pie style cap, and a pair of leather pants. In time these pants would become so pungent with odors, so unspeakable, that I began to question how bikers, completely encased in the skin of dead cattle, could even reproduce at all sitting on a thousand pounds of hot vibrating steel. I came to the conclusion that biker-sperm is probably cultured & incubated by the Harley’s engine. This makes each individual sperm so tough & grizzled that, if you were to gaze at one under a microscope, you could probably see a faint Gregg Allman-style beard on each spermy chin. The pork-pie hat didn’t help either, as it made me look like a fat gay 60’s supermodel Twiggy on her way to Sturgis…that is, if you even want that image burned permanently into your mind. Don’t go there, really. I’m trying to help you out here.

Weapon-wise, I was ill-prepared as well. The only things I own that could come close to being useful in a combat situation with a bail-jumper are a toy sheriff badge, a Walther P-38 (it’s actually the original Megatron) and a container of ground-pepper (to use as mace). I don’t tan well, so I can’t reach the necessary grizzled sun-baked look either, and my hair can only be described as “conservative” at best. Even with all the hair style products in the world, I could not pull off the necessary sweaty pompadour cascade that seems to tell society, “I know you think this hair is hideous, but I simply can’t find the time to care. I’ve got criminals to catch, bitches.” I don’t even own any dangly earrings for Christssakes!

So, with a heavy heart, I gave up my dreams of bounty huntin’ and I suppose it’s just as well. I’m no good with confrontation, what with my innate instinct to curl up into the fetal position and whimper at the first sign of danger. And you can let go of my hand now, sir.

But I will keep you posted if I ever decide to hunt gators, or get into the burgeoning field of rock star/pest control.

Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t even own a studded belt. But she does love the condom.

by Dave Atsals • July 29, 2012

We sure hope not…

by Mick Zano • July 29, 2012

Philadelphia, PA—According to important internet research, maximizing a site’s use of key words can markedly boost traffic. So please enjoy our new format and feel free to Kardashian, Phelps Lochte, xxx thai hookers, Mitt Romney abroad, YouTube yourself, eHarmony.

As the CEO of the Daily Discord, Peirce Winslow, I would like to assure our readers the quality of our content and our dedication to journalistic integrity will not be—I’m bored, meet singles in your area, violent storms, lesbian toys, Joe Paterno statue—compromised.

Just give yourselves some time to adjust to our new style, which many find reminiscent of the Beat movement of the Jlo, Sandusky victims, Obamacare, fast and furious, aurora shooting, midget porn, Google Maps, Viagra, Cialis, Enzyte for men, Higgs Boson, Facebook, Tom Cruise.

And be sure to read Mick Zano’s upcoming feature on UFO sightings, ebola outbreak, Katy Perry, penis enlargement. You’ll be glad you did. Happy ending massage, typhoon.

by The Ghetto Shaman • July 27, 2012

Dear Ghetto Shaman,

When I sent you a question about “transforming your demons, not fighting them”, you agreed and suggested I transform them into hot chicks (which you never posted on this site, by the way). But the Buddha’s first trial was lust. He would never have obtained enlightenment listening to you!

Lou-E

Dear Lou-E,

Yes, I remember the correspondence. The spiritual development of humanity has surpassed what it was in the Buddha’s time. The universe is unfolding and, in some cases, disrobing. I sat under the Bodhi tree, nailed the shit out of everything that walked passed, and beat the Buddha’s best time. Fear is still the same trial, though, so don’t be afraid to pork away, pal.

The Ghetto Shaman

by Alex Bone • July 26, 2012

I’m probably like you, except for my quasi-homelessness, my unusual cravings for chocolate shaped like human body parts, and my history of stalking women whose names don’t begin with vowels. But I’m different in that…I can’t wait for a real zombie plague! Sure skeptics will say this can’t happen, or they’ll list a bunch of ‘scientific evidence’ discounting the possibility. I ignored science in high school and college, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to start paying attention to it now.

Come on, a zombie plague would be great fun. You can shoot everyone you don’t like in the head and all the beer is free! Hell, I can even move into a millionaire’s home on the edge of town like it’s…er, the apocalypse.

So anyway, you can imagine how happy I was to find out that someone had just been mauled and half eaten only a few blocks from where I was bumming beers from Zano. “Sure, sure, Mick, each beer equals another Discord feature. I think I’m in the red until 2017.”

I was just telling him how an order of chicken wings would give me the strength to work late into the night, when this girl came in screaming. First, I thought she was mad at the way Mick was staring at her torn blouse, but then I saw the blood.

“Someone is eating my boyfriend!” she cried.

Sweet!

After Zano and I gave each other big high fives, we pushed all the good Samaritans—treating her for shock—out of the way and demanded she tell us where this attack took place. I had to slap her a few times to get her to tell me where it was. This ticked a few people off, but I said, “Shut the hell up. She’s in shock. Haven’t you seen any old movies? You always slap the hysterical woman.” Some people’s heads are too far up their asses to enjoy the classics. Later I found out that most Adult Protective Services workers don’t seem to watch much AMC either. I hope my probation officer does.

Without further delay, we sprinted to the scene. Worries tugged at my mind. What if a cop kills the guy before he can infect a lot of people and the plague is stopped? What if the zombie has wandered off and we aren’t the first that get to see it? What if not enough people die for us to get that free beer? There had to be a way to make sure things kick into gear.

Then, there it was, larger than life (even though it was hopefully dead) and covered with blood. Yes, a real zombie crouched over the dead guy and he was chowing down on his innards.

Step one: Take loads of pictures.

Step two: Text all my friends.

Step three: Try to grab the guy’s wallet and the zombie’s wallet without being bitten. Hey, beers aren’t free yet.

I got the dead guy’s wallet, but I had attracted its attention and the grizzly blood splattered corpse started coming at me.

“Zano! Zano! I’ll distract it. See if you can grab the zombie’s wallet!”

“What? I’m not doing that!”

“Oh come on, don’t be a wuss.” I kept trying to get him to do it, but then it was too late. The Flagstaff PD showed up and ruined everything. Not only did we not get the extra wallet, but they stopped the whole damn apocalypse by shooting the guy in the head, those bastards. Goody two shoes, sons o’ *&%^*&^*&^*)*!

The local paper later blamed it on “bath salts.” Riiiight. So now we are back in the bar and the zombie only had about forty bucks on him. But he did have some credit cards and I know the girl with the torn blouse is single, but damn it her name begins with an A. Crap.

by Mick Zano • July 25, 2012

Just sayin’…

by Mick Zano • July 24, 2012

New London Connecticut Mistakenly Prepares for Olympics

New London, CT—Mayor Daryl Finizio admitted to a grievous error not seen since Sanjaya’s American Idol championship denial in 2007. I still believe Sanjaya! The town of New London Connecticut accidentally spent 37-million on preparations for the 2012 Summer Olympics. The mistake originated from a single piece of mis-delivered mail. The International Olympic Committee’s letter was sent to the Mayor of New London’s office, instead of its intended recipients in England.

The Post Master General, Biff Lavin, claims, “The letter weighed several ounces over the 42¢ postage limit and may have had the wrong zip code. Either of these factors might have contributed to the delivery error.”

The ill-timed letter discussing the final preparation for the Olympics sent the Mayor of New London into a frenzy of unnecessary preparation. He is now trying to put the best possible spin on events. “The marathon course will make a great skateboard park, or a barcrawl route…or something. The massive mountain created for the mountain biking event could be converted into a smaller mountain…for the purpose of… Look, this state is flatter than Mitt Romney’s emotional range. We need the elevation. If Connecticut smoked all the pot in Mexico, it still wouldn’t get any higher. It makes Kansas look like the friggin’ Swiss Alps,” said Finizio.

The mayor is not commenting on why his city built a 7-million dollar luge track for what is obviously the Summer Olympics, or why he chose the same designer from the deadly debacle in Vancouver in 2010.

“Mistakes were made,” said Finizio. “It’s like the deficit, why are we still counting? You try preparing for the Olympics in two weeks on my MF-ing budget, bitches!”

by The Crank • July 23, 2012

There’s a lot going on today and with our media tanking it’s time we learned the truth! Conspiracy theories are rampant, yet what are we to make of the Age of Misinformation? The Daily Discord has paid me handsomely to get to the bottom of several of the leading stories of our time. I, The Crank, found most of the loose strings of a generation and tied them into a nice little bow. On that note, I could really use that case of Coca Cola now, Mr. Winslow. It would be better for everyone if it arrived soon…

It wasn’t planes that brought down the W.T.C. on 9/11, it was Rodan and Mothra. Fracking woke them from their subterranean slumber and now they’re pissed. Only good thing…at least now they’re heading toward Japan.

Bush is the space alien from area 51, and, yes, it IS all his fault. He is not in Texas, as they would have us believe. No one can “clear brush” for that long. He was called back to the Klingon Home World to answer for a failed mission. Just when exactly WAS the last time anyone has seen him?

Atlantis was located off the coast of New Jersey, and it was the largest landfill on Earth. It collapsed under the weight of untold tons of ancient shit. The whole Atlantis theory was an epic sewage fail cover-up by the prehistory Mafia. Even Plato alludes to the fact they built it with substandard rocks.

Justin Beiber is the next Anti-Christ and can only be beaten at the Apocalypse by a shirtless William Shatner. (Who has actually beaten Genghis Khan, Napoleon and Hitler in past Apocalypses, also shirtless)

If you play any Joe Walsh song backwards, it makes perfect sense.

The Most Interesting Man In The World is, in fact, Jewish. (Stay tzameh my friends?) Dos XX was originally called He-Brew.

The Etrade Babies are real!! They actually run Wall Street from tiny offices inside the Bull statue’s testicles…which is somehow fitting.

People who die while filming themselves for ‘Jackass’ all come back as MSNBC employees.

John Boehner is a pothead. Look carefully at him next time. Red, moist eyes, heavy lids, slurred speech, hyper emotional. Oh, and he was last sighted entering a secret area beneath the Capital steps with a copy of the Affordable Care Act, a half eaten bag of potato chips, and a rather large doobie. Much laughter/coughing heard later.

Mohammed reincarnated back as Barney Frank. Paybacks are a beeoch. (Fatwah anyone?)

Ronnie James Dio was an Italian Leprechaun. His rainbow ended at a Pot ‘o’ Sauce.

Donald Trump’s hair is actually a portal to an alternate universe where corporations run everything. Oh, wait, that’s here….

Bigfoot killed Kennedy because he “knew too much.” The grassy knoll was some type of forest sprite that took the rap.

Rupert Murdoch is actually a Ferengi after ear reduction surgery. (Think about it…)

Ozzy Osborne sold his soul to the Devil. It was returned for a manufacturer’s defect. When he does reach and remain indefinitely in purgatory…well, that could make one hell of a reality television show.

Hidden in the Affordable Care Act is a new law making use of the term ‘epic fail’ taxable.

Zombies ARE real. “Attention shoppers and welcome to Wal Mart”

The Supreme Court Justices are naked under their robes, and have secret ties to Grounds Keeper Willy. That’s why they never smile. All except Justice Thomas. He smiles. He has reason to smile.

Primus makes music that has subliminal messages in it that make you dance like an idiot. Try it. You start out looking all cool, then within seconds your arms are flapping and your knees are bowing and you are clucking like a chicken. The military is currently trying to weaponize this technology.

I hope this clears some things up.

The Crank

by Mick Zano • July 21, 2012

Bachmann’s Attack Finally Reaches Fabled "Ass Ceiling"

Washington, DC—Last April, progressive liberals sent director James Cameron on a deep sea mission to explore the depths of Republican hypocrisy. He failed. Having reached Dick Cheney’s moral compass at 35,000 ft, the director and explorer was forced to resurface. Despite a sea of ridiculous statements over the last decade, no attempts from within the Republican Party has ever been made to reel in these right wing extremists…until now.

Cameron said this week, “I could swear just before I started my ascent I saw two crazy eyes staring up at me from the abyss. Now I know who it was.”

This week Michele “crazy eyes” Bachmann missed one too many Risperdal consta injections and started an all out attack on Hillary Clinton’s Muslim aide, Huma Abedine. Despite her very Jewish husband, or evidence of any kind, Bachmann claims she has clear ties to the Muslim Brotherhood.

Bachmann told reporters, “I don’t understand, I’ve never needed any evidence before?” The Minnesota Congresswoman has no idea why all of a sudden facts matter. “I never got that memo! Don’t you people watch Fox?”

In Bachmann’s defense, navigating the bubble of non-reality called Fox News for so long can actually change brain structure itself. Problems can occur if and when someone attempts to venture back to Earth. During Fox interviews, she would always arrive tablu rasa—in an almost Zen-like state of ideological drivel. When she handed her crayon-scribbled psycho-babble over to one of the show’s producers, they simply recreated it to the best of their ability using some type of computer program, possibly PhotoShop.

Bachmann added, “Besides, Obama’s killing all the really bad Muslims and my McCarthy-esque bigotry and hatred needs to be directed somewhere, bitches.”

OK, in all fairness to the Congresswoman, we added the word ‘bitches’ but it was clearly implied.