Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Promise Ring, by Clement Ein

When I was 13 years old I took a family oath to remain a virgin until marriage. I believed, and still do, that to be a good moral person you must be free from impurity. So for Christmas "Santa" ; ) gave me a 24K gold Promise Ring. The ring had a little engraving in it with my initial C in the middle of a pair of underwear surrounded by barbed wire.

When I turned 17 I decided to marry my junior high school sweetheart, Rosanne, rendering the Promise Ring pointless. So the day of the wedding I went downtown to the pawn shop and exchanged my ring for $600. Thing is, that night at the hotel Rosanne ran away with the vending machine attendant before we had a chance to officially "consumate" the marriage.

So THAT is why I'm still a virgin, and THAT is why I don't have my promise ring on me. Now, where were we? Oh yes... I was about to pour you some champaign... And care for a chocolate covered strawberry? We look tense. Let's give each other a massage...

Whoops. I dropped the chocolate covered strawberry down my shirt!

- Clement Ein

Monday, September 27, 2010

The Legend of O'bama, by Chucky Berry

O'bama is Black Irish. He was born in the Jewish ghetto of Belfast, Northern Ireland, and emigrated to Hells Kitchen USA when he was 16, along with his mother Angela and his three older siblings, Malcolm, Jamal, and Warner.

When O'bama was 17 he emancipated himself from mental slavery and attended Wesleyan University in ToWniEViLle Ohio. There he majored in Intro to Socialist Behavior, and did his senior thesis on Stalin, Lennon, and the Marx Brothers.

It was on a feild trip to Chicago where O'bama met his mentor and spiritual leader, The Honorable Elijah Mahoney. "The chickens are coming home to roost!" Cried Mr. Mahoney, who operated an organic free-range farm outside his home in Detroit. Indeed they did. Later that week: Omelets.

It was here in Detroit where O'bama started his political career as an ice cream social organizer. Driving around town, he learned the crucial skills that would kick start his political career such as driving, smiling while speaking, and ice cream making.

Somewhere around 2004? O'bama ran for El Presidente De United States aka Commando in Chief. But first he had to beat Hilary Clitman in the primaries! Well that was easy enough.
But in order to win the Whitehouse, O'bama had to first destroy his arch nemesis, Minotaur John McClain. The mischievous elder statesman enlisted non other than Cindy Palin, the Alaskan Goddess of Fertility. One night O'bama, with the help of his secretary Ari Gold (from HBO's Entourage) invited Miss Palin over for a "political debate". By all accounts they had sex on the kitchen table and O'bama "fucked her stupid" according to Mr. Gold.

In his first term as Top Chef of the Union, Mr. O'bama declared war on the South. In retaliation, Fox News, owned by conservative Australian actor Mel Gibson, contracted a privately owned army of mercenaries called Black Rock Entertainment. This fighting force, mostly consisting of outsourced personnel from India, hacked the Internet and systematically deleted all of O'bama's friends.

To complicate matters, a group of Caucasians formed a new political party called The Tea Party. It's objectives were never clearly stated but the writing was on the wall: No Irish need apply.

Will O'bama prevail? Will the Catholics and Protestants finally stop their sectarian shenanigans for the love of their country for Christ's sake?

"Top of the Mornin' to ya!" Brack O'bama says.

To be Continued indeed...

Chucky Berry is a professional part time political reporter for

In the End

In the end there will be Twinkies, Keith Richards, and Cockroaches. Why? Because NOTHING kills them. Now go and tell that joke to somebody and see what happens.

; )


Thursday, September 23, 2010

Life of the Party, by Chucky Berry

“Syrup Head taught me everything I know,” I heard myself exclaim. The others pretended not to hear over the soft jazz music. “Syrup Head taught me everything I know” I said again. Jeff Coltsburger, yes that Jeff Coltsburger (the it boy of non- fiction) looked at me with raised eyes, tilting his head into a glass of red wine. His blonde fiancĂ© Marta stood beside him in a tight green dress looking like a fresh two dollar bill, and just as rare. Marta looked to Jeff, “Who is syrup head, sweetie?”
“DID SOMEONE SAY MY NAME?” exclaimed Syrup Head, magically appearing in the middle of the room. He wore a light brown tuxedo, Teva sandals, and fake vampire teeth. His ponytail was dyed blonde to match his goatee which was dyed blonde as well.
“Sweet goatee, Syrup Head!”
 This crowd has never seen such an oddity. Did this strange man really just appear out of thin air? Why is he dressed like that? 
Jeff Coltsburger felt the eyes of his helpless guests land on him. An explanation was in order. This is one of Jeff’s crazy jokes right? But Jeff Coltsburger doesn’t make crazy jokes. Jeff Coltsburger hosts polite parties and speaks with a genuine seriousness about all things academic. “Pardon me, Chuck. Who’s your friend?” He inquired on behalf of his audience. “Uh, this is Syrup Head. He’s an old buddy of mine from the farm.”
“Syrup Head, show everyone what you can do.” I pleaded.
“I’ll give them an offer I can’t refuse” said Syrup head, doing his best Marlon Brando impression. Never mind it wasn’t the exact line. Syrup’s celebrity impressions can’t be beat. He puffed out his jaw, leaned his head back and hollered through his nose, “STELLA!”
Some people started to laugh. Some, like Jeff, looked on in utter shock. Syrup Head sat down on the floor Indian style and beckoned me with his finger, “What’s with these people?” he whispered. “They’re just a little, uh, confused,” I said.
“Do they know I’m made of real maple syrup?”
“Attention ladies and gentlemen. Syrup Head has an announcement to make.” Syrup Head said.
As if by magic, a steady dance beat came blaring through the stereo. The party formed a circle around Syrup Head as he got up and danced in place, laughing. I had seen this once before.
“Now you may have heard of the Charleston, and you may have heard of the skippity doo, but I bet you haven’t heard of the Charleston Chew! The DANCE, that is. Well it goes a little somethin’ like this:
You stick your left foot out, you put your right thumb down, you sit your bun on the ground, and you pull your pants down. You shake it all about and you play with your Crang and that’s uh the Charleston Chew. Now to the left, to the left, to the right, to the right. Now lick a neck. Lick your neighbor’s neck. Put her in reverse and do that thing! Now STOP! 1, 2, 3, 4, get that doodie off the floor. 5, 6, 7, 8 don’t look now just masterbate! Yeah yeah YEAH yeah, yeah awe YEAH. Do a flying headstand and land in the spinach dip. FREEZE! Get down on your knees and kiss your crotch. Go ahead now kiss your crotch. Yeah yeah YEAH yeah, yeah awe YEAH! That’s the Charleston Chew!”
And with that the music stopped and Syrup Head farted. His fart produced a 3 foot flame out the back of his tuxedo pants. The flame burst yellow and orange and looked hot as hell. “Woah!” the crowd roared. Everyone started clapping, laughing, and hugging. One person cried. Jeff’s blonde fiancĂ© threw her arms around his shoulders. “Splendid” Jeff proclaimed with a choked up smile.
It was then that I saw the clock and realized the gravity of the situation. At 12:00 midnight Syrup Head will turn into a chicken nugget unless he is completely immersed in vodka. “Syrup! Do you see what time it is!?” “I sure do buddy. Get me in my vodka bath, PRONTO!” It was 11:58. He ran to the bathroom. “Quick everybody! We need 4 to 5 gallons of vodka!” “What are you talking about?” asked Jeff, seemingly annoyed at my order.
“I don’t think you understand, Jeff. If Syrup Head’s entire body isn’t completely immersed in vodka by the stroke of midnight, then he will turn into a chicken nugget. Now hurry. We don’t have much time.”
I grabbed the two bottles of Stoli from the snack table. “Do as I do” I yelled to the crowd. I ran into the bathroom.
No sign of Syrup Head.
“Down here, amigo!” I little voice squeaked. I looked down at the gray and white tiles below."I'm a fuckin' chicken nugget thanks to you."
"Sorry man"
"Eh, could be worse."
I suppose it could.
And THAT is how Syrup Head became a chicken nugget.
The Shitty End.

- C.C. Bunson

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Who Do You Think You Are?

Who do you think you are? Ronald Reagan? You are no Ronald Reagan, my friend. No, but seriously who the hell do you think you are? Arnold Schwarzenegger? Forget it, pal. You got a lot of nerve. I mean who do you think you are anyway, Tom Arnold? It's just ridiculous. We must not be speaking the same language or something, man. The way you're acting, it's like, who in the world do you think you are? CJ from "Rosanne"? Incredible. Who do you think you are, Sheldon from Garfield & Friends? WhoDoYouThinkYouAre, a Roy Rogers Cheeseburger? WDUTUR, huh? I mean really...

Who do you think you are?

Because I KNOW who I am.

- Chucky P. Bunson Berry

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Madmen: A Review, By Chucky P. Berry

Madmen is a new hit TV show on the AMC network. It's about an over the top cop and his down and out judge friend. They work for an ad agency on 5th avenue. I think there's a dog in the show by the name of "Skeeto" or "Skeetie". He's the real star. But the real star of the show is Dom Draper, played by Josh Holm. In the first episode we watch him in the bathroom as he neatly side parts his hair in the mirror, turns to the camera and says, "Shh. Keep a secret." Then the credits come in which is the best part of the whole show because Michael Jackson did the music. (I think.)

But the real star of the show is New York, dressed up to look like the swinging 1960's in the early part of that decade where the 50's were still where it was at, daddy-o. New York is played by non other than Academy Award winner Gerard Depardieu. He wears baggy pants with little subway cars on them, he's got one of those green foam statue of liberty hats, hot dogs taped to his jacket, and his face is painted 6 different ethnic shades to represent the melting pot that is NYC. The City That Never Sleeps. the Big Apple. Hymie Town. These are just a few of the slick ad slogans Dom and his friends come up with to promote their client, 'Gerard Depardieu' (played by Danielle Day Lewis)

So the real star turns out to be none other than advertisement itself. I for one am predicting Advertisement will come out the big winner in this year's emmies.


Chucky P. Berry

Chucky P. Berry is a professional part time TV critic and writes for

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Drunk Dan's 2 Cents, by Drunk Dan

Drunk Dan here.

If I may, I gotta few things on my chest that I'd like to get off.

1. Why do bars close so early? They don't call me Drunk Dan for nothing. They call me Drunk Dan for something: Because I like to get drunk. In public. And also I look like a Dan.

2. Why is it that every time I want a brew from the convenience store, they card me like I'm some Alfred E. Neuman little rascals junior high school gang banger sonofabitch? I'm a grown ass adult man and it is my god given 2nd amendment right to drink whatever, whenever, with whoever, and with whatever kind of outfit on I fuckin feel like. Last time I checked this was America: Land of the FREE home of the BRAVES.

3. Does anyone here know the recipe for "real" Absinthe? I tried to make a home batch but I think I added too much of something and the pot got all green goblin on me and glowed like Ecto Cooler under a black light at that pivotal moment in your coming of age when you're in your best friend's parent's basement and he's hosting some kind of cyber homo futuristic dance party and you're just sitting there suckin' on a Hi-C till the box crushes in on itself. It's fuckin' done, man.

4. People need to tip their bartenders. Even when I run out of money I make sure to give my bartender a good tip. I'll say "An apple a day keeps the doctor at bay" or, "Make new friends but keep the old. One is silver and the other is pure gold, my friend." They might not hear every word over the loud music, but they'll get the basic gist, so long as you speak carefully with wild over the top facial expressions.

DrUnK D@n

Monday, September 13, 2010

For Adults Only...

60 sexy secrets to spice up your love life, by contributing editor, Chucky Berry

1. Here's a sexy secret for the bedroom: Suck on a lemon till your lips pucker into a little vagina shape. Now go to the mirror. Put a candle on your head and light it. Now slowly spin around three times until your underwear falls down. You made sure to remove the elastic band before all of this right?

2. Sit on your lover's hand and no matter what they do, just close your eyes and smile and say "I'm not listening."

3. Role play can be super exciting. Pretend you and your lover are computer hackers trying to penetrate a big secret website. Go to your computer and start typing random letters. Make sure to wear some kind of hands-free cell phone device or a pair of 3D glasses. Now orgasm thrice.

4. Have sex in weird positions. You'll find that what you once thought was weird will begin to seem normal, and what you once thought was normal will now seem weird. There's a simple way to remember this formula: "Soggy before doggy, loggy before froggy"

5. Some people are way turned on by mystery. Wrap your lover's head in a sheet and have them guess where in the room you are while you run around the house jerking off. Or,
Hide under the bed when your partner uses the bathroom. They will have no idea what happened to you. If they still haven't found you after a couple of days, crawl out from under the bed all dirty and dusty and say "I'm right here, baby" as you orgasm. If the police are there at that point then you've probably waited too long.

6. A little rough play can really get things hot. Grease your body up with a little body oil. Go to the edge of the bed and tell your lover, "In this corner, from parts unknown, weighing in at 215 pounds..." Now body slam your opponent!

7. Throw sprinkles all around the bed and fuck cupcake style: frosting on top.

8. Now, we can do this the hard way... Or we can do this the soft way...

- Chucky Fuckin' Berry

Sunday, September 12, 2010


My uncle taught Special Egg.

Emergency on Planet Bun: Who forgot the hot dogs?

Smell it till you can't.

Ed McMaughin.

I'll have the Gorilla Rangoon. Hold the Banana.

Push Pops, Fruit Roll Ups, Jolly Ranchers: The Candy of Our Childhood. Big fucking deal.

Charlie Rogers invented Jolly Ranchers because Charlie Rogers was himself a Jolly Rancher.

Rain, rain, go away, get the fuck outta here!

Small Beavis.

Shit Betch.

Colonel Popcorn, Sir!

Mary Antoine "Nutin' Butt" Net

Potato Dick Mahon.

Grease Lighting.

Pat Sajack tapped my phone.

Bight the Big One before It bites YOUR dick off.

Shit Head was a real guy.

By the age of 12, Jared became a self made onesaire.

There Might Be Blood, starring Alex Bugle as Danielle Straightshooter, the Texas oil buffoon.

Scissor your lezzie till she goes ballipstick.

Its Chick Pea Fridays at T.G.I.C.P.Friday's this Friday

The Punishment fits the crime perfectly, your honor. 

- Chucky Berry