PeteTV Up


More Weekly Petes



Thank you for purchasing our newest creation.  Through the miracle of modern science we have been able to combine the planet's most feared man-eater with man's best friend to create the shark-dog.  It's surf-and-turf on a leash.  And with three rows of serrated teeth that can puncture steel, you better believe its bite is much worse than its bark (it wouldn't be a bad idea to tell your postman to start carrying shark repellent).


While all of us at Genetic Labs and Retrievers are certain you're going to love your new pet, there are a few things you need to know.


First, no matter what you do, don't play tug-of-war with your shark-dog.  Remember the scene in Jaws where the shark, after being harpooned with barrel after barrel, still manages to dive underwater and then, when they least expect it, launches itself up on the boat and swallows the captain whole?  That's exactly why you don't want to play pull-toy with your power pooch.


Also, for the first month or so, expect your pet to howl terribly at night.  This happens to be our greatest regret with our new creation.  You see, while the shark-dog has retained a dog's instinct to continuously lick itself, because of its shark like head, no matter how hard it tries, it simply cannot reach it's privates.  No matter what you do, don't scratch it for them.  Simply leave them alone and they will cry themselves out. 


Otherwise, we recommend that you walk your shark-dog twice a day and swim it once.  If you happen to lose your pet in the water, simply place your head underwater and call out their name.  When walking your pet, please be sure to keep a leash on them at all times.  Because a standard leash won't do, we recommend that you purchase the shark-dog leash, which is part leash and part shark cage.  And if you find that your new pet won't stop chewing up your large appliances, let us recommend the shark-dog muzzle.


Recently, a few owners have complained about what they call their pet's dead-eyed, soulless stare.  All we can say is don't worry, you'll get used to it.  Also, we ask that you refrain from wearing dark, shimmering fabrics around the shark-dog, anything they might confuse for a porpoise.  Hey, you just never know!


Finally, it's important that you bond with your pet early on, while it's young.  We have found that the shark-dog likes to be scratched around the ear nubs and behind its dorsal fin.  It also likes to play catch, but instead of a stick, try using a license plate, or an old tire.  And if you really want to get your pet excited, the next time you pour them a dish of water, prick your finger and squeeze out a drop of blood.


We are certain you're going to love your new pet.  It's an eating, loving machine.  And to get the two of you started off right, we've enclosed a sample pack of Puppy Chum.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 



Dear Banking Customer:


Are you fed-up with countless banking fees?  Does your income bracket sometimes feel more like an income shackle?  Then don't you think it's about time you tried banking under communism?


Would you prefer a bank where you deposited what you could and withdrew what you needed?  Have you ever dreamed of a savings account that had no bearing whatsoever on the amount of money you made?


Then come to Komrade Bank, the bank that has finally worked the kinks out of communism.  Our motto: from each according to whatever they have to deposit, to each according to whatever they need to withdraw.  That's us, Komrade Bank, where money grows on needs.


So stop your Stalin, purge your old bank account, and Russian to Komrade Bank.  Just march on in and sit down with one of our account apparatchiks.  Ask about joining our Great Society Communal Saving's Account (G.S.C.S.A.).


You see, at Komrade Bank, your dream of a proletariat banking utopia has finally arrived.  On the same day you open your account, you will receive a revolutionary-red cash station card with a hammer and sickle hologram.  This card is good at any one of our three cash machines around the world.


Best of all, we've eliminated the hard to remember -- and socially divisive -- personal identification number.  At our bank, everyone uses the same I.D. number.  United we bank!  From now on, the only number you will ever have to remember -- the communal I.D. number -- is one nine one seven.  That's 1917, or the year of the Russian Revolution.


At Komrade Bank, all of our customers keep their money together, for use by everyone.  And what could be better than that!  That money is interest bearing!


Interest bearing saving's accounts of the world unite!


That means we need everybody, both rich and poor, to come join the saving's account.  Bear in mind that it is our policy to treat the rich (or oppressors), no differently than we treat the poor (or oppressed).


How do we do it!  With the Great Society Communal Savings Account, we have ignored the largest expense in banking today -- the need to keep accurate, up-to-date records.  That insures there will always be plenty of cash on hand.


Come to Komrade Bank and see for yourself our revolutionary method of Marxist-Lenonist-J.P. Morganist money management.  If you would like more information, please feel free to pick-up a copy of our Communist Moneyfesto.


Of course, the first six months of your membership will be on a trail basis.  During this time, we insist that you only withdraw money for the basic necessities.  That includes bread, vodka, and light gambling.


Still not convinced?  Then let me tell you about the Guiding Hand Bureau.  The G.H.B. is a concerned group of account holders whose job it is to watch, and report, on the spending habits of our other members.  That's what we call qualified trust, and it's a trust you can bank on.


As if we needed to sweeten the pot further, the first one hundred people (that includes you, Bill Gates), to deposit one hundred million dollars in the account receives a capitalist piggy bank absolutely free.


So come, join Komrade Bank, where we're giving communism one last try.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 



(The interview takes place at a coffee shop on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.)


PeteTV: So tell me, penis, how are you?


(Twenty seconds pass without response)


PeteTV: Hey penis, how are you?


(Still no response)


PeteTV: HELLO.  I'm trying to conduct an interview here.  Can you hear me, penis?


Penis: What's up?


PeteTV: What's with you?  Why didn't you answer me?


Penis: Big deal, don't get me all in a knot.  I get stage fright.  You know I'm a little gun shy.  What do you want?


PeteTV: I'm trying to interview you.


Penis: This isn't going to take too long, is it?  I can give you five minutes, tops.


PeteTV: Tell me about it.


Penis:  I will.  It isn't easy being a penis, you know.  About the only time I ever get taken out is for pissing or moaning.  So what do you want to know?


PeteTV: First, what's your opinion of Viagra.


Penis: I think it's great.  I think I can speak for penises everywhere when I say I'd like to stand up and salute Viagra.  Which reminds me.  I'm about due for an emissions test, aren't I?


PeteTV: I take good care of you, don't I?


Penis: You think?  Just yesterday, I had to check to see if I still had balls.  I thought maybe you'd gone eunuch on me.  You know, sometimes I wish I was attached to a dog.  Then at least I'd get licked.


PeteTV: Is that all you ever do?  Complain.


Penis: I think penises deserve more respect.  Right here in New York vaginas get their own monologue.  All I get is this lousy interview.


PeteTV: You get plenty of respect.


Penis: Yeah?  What about the film Breast Men.  I heard even Ants and Chickens have their own films.  Well when is a dick going to get a major motion picture?


PeteTV: What about the film Nixon?


Penis: What a riot.  I wasn't always a penis, you know.


PeteTV: Yeah?


Penis: In a previous life, I was Richard the Great.  You should have seen all the chicks I got.


PeteTV: Don't say chicks.  It's not politically correct.


Penis: Women.  Big deal.  Far as I'm concerned, we're all equals.


PeteTV: A lot of people still think there's still a glass ceiling for women.


Penis: Yeah, so, and I've got a Fruit-Of-The-Loom ceiling.  So what?  I just want to get laid.


PeteTV: You ever think about anything besides sex?


Penis: I read a book once.  Didn't like it.


PeteTV: Why not?


Penis: It was nonfriction.  Ha ha ha ha ha ha.


PeteTV: So tell me, if you could be anything, what would it be?


Penis: A star.


PeteTV: What kind of star?


Penis: Are you an idiot, a porn star.  And once I got really famous, I'd finally be able to date the girl of my dreams.


PeteTV: Who, Pamela Anderson?


Penis: No, a hand model.  Ha ha.  My God!  You see the chick over there?  God! Look at the tits on her.


PeteTV: Settle down.


Penis: Hey, how about you going over there and introducing me to her tonsils.


PeteTV: Stop it!


Penis: What's the magic word?


PeteTV: Cock-a-doodle-don't.


Penis: Sorry, didn't work.  Periscope up.  I got to get myself a better look.  You think you could lend me a hand?


(At this point I am forced to abandon the interview and put the interviewee back in my pants.  The interview resumes in the privacy of my bedroom.)


PeteTV: That was totally uncalled for.


Penis: So I'm impulsive.  Now you know why people don't go around with their dicks hanging out.  Hey, do I smell hand lotion?


PeteTV: No, you don't, so don't get all excited.


Penis: Awww, come on, are you trying to seduce me?


PeteTV: That's it, interview over.


Penis: Really.  We're all done? Finished?


PeteTV: That's right.


Penis: Great!  Slap me five.


(I slap it five)


Penis: Slap me again.


(I slap it again)


Penis: And again.


PeteTV: That's it.  I think it's about time we go to sleep.


Penis: Ah, to sleep, perchance to wet dream.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 



I smoke, therefore I’m not.


Malcolm X

Smoking has no effect on white people so smoke all you want.


Dr. Jack Kevorkian

If smoking doesn’t kill you fast enough, give me a call at… 


National Rifle Association

Smoking doesn’t kill people, death kills people.


Keith Richards

Smoking while playing the guitar can make you look pretty damn cool.



God is dead.  He smoked.


Dorothy Parker

Coffee is bitter

Cigars make you choke

Sex is too messy

Cocaine makes you broke

Life’s hardly worth living

You might as well smoke

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Lose some weight.  I must be at least a million galaxies overweight.

Create peace in the Middle East (just kidding!).

Make it clear to Jesus that, no matter what his reputation is in other places, unless he starts behaving in heaven, then he can't use the car.

Try, just try, to leave the Kennedys alone for a little while.

Thought the movie, The Perfect Storm, was a total insult (you call that a wave?).  Make the biggest, baddest, natural disasters mankind has ever seen just to show Hollywood how it's done.

Get my own talk show.

Instead of having movie stars and rock stars be the idol of millions, make it grocery baggers.

Stop trying to be such a all-seeing, all-knowing-it-all.

Get a complete idiot elected to the most powerful position in the world (oh right! I've just done that).

Find out who has been spreading those vicious rumors about the Virgin Mary.

Keep reading PeteTV!!!

To raise money, instead of having people's life flash in front of their eyes as they die, show advertisements.

Phase out the opposable thumb on humans.  They're nothing but trouble.

Get a new computer programmer.  The last one promised that the Y2K bug would wreck worldwide havoc.

At the start of the next millennium, finally crack open the earth and get at the candy-coated center.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


(From the Department of Funny Ho Ho)


One year, desperately behind schedule, Santa misread his naughty-and-nice list and accidentally delivered a hunk of coal to the young Joseph Stalin.  Little Stalin, who had worked hard all year to be nice, was devastated, and from that day on vowed never to be good again.

The toy Santa was most proud of was an oversized doll that looked just like an alien.  That same year, Santa had new stabilizers installed on his sleigh, and while flying over the Southwest, his sleigh suddenly started plummeting towards earth.  To save himself, Santa was forced to dump out all the oversized alien dolls over Roswell, New Mexico.

Then there was the year Santa was suffering from a severe case of burn-out.  Wanting nothing to do with Christmas, Santa enlisted the Hell's Angels to deliver the toys (this was before Altamont).  As you can guess, the experiment was a disaster.  There were stories of Christmas trees trashed, liquor cabinets raided, and only the naughty kids got gifts.

Once, when visiting a hippie commune, Santa partook in the treats that were left for him and ended up eating three hash-brownies.  To put it lightly, Santa freaked.  Santa woke up more than one family with the giggles, he delivered the mother load of gifts to the Chimney family of East L.A., and he spent part of the night thinking he was the Easter Bunny.

Responding to a changing world, Santa added another category to his list, and that year he divided the children up into naughty, nice, and extremely vulgar.  The extremely vulgar kids would get nothing.  Of course young Donald Trump was on that list, and when the young Donald did not get a single toy from his twenty page list, you can bet he was livid.  The Trump family promptly sued Santa, threatening to tie up Christmas in court.  Santa settled out of court, and now Donald Trump gets everything he asks for.

Santa had a lot of trouble the first year electrical lines were installed.  One time, when trying to land on a house, Santa came in too low and Dasher brushed up against a power line right were it counts.  And that's why the other reindeer call him, Dasher, the red-balled reindeer.

One stormy Christmas Eve, Santa got stuck in a sand storm and crashed his sleigh.  Although the air bags deployed, Santa was thrown clear of the sleigh and suffered temporary memory loss.  Having no idea who he was, Santa wandered into a juke joint in West Texas covered from head to toe in dust and grime.  The patrons of the bar naturally assumed Santa was a member of ZZ Top, who, as fate would have it, were scheduled to play that night.  Because the only song Santa knows on guitar is Jingle Bells, you can bet ZZ Top was never asked back to the bar again.

Another time, Santa invested in an automated toy delivery system.  That Christmas Eve, for the first time ever, Santa took a vacation.  But the system did not work as advertised.  It took a full eight nights to deliver all the toys, there were duplicate deliveries, and because of a computer glitch, gifts were delivered only to nonchristians.  And that's why they created Hanukkah.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


The President does not become Vice President if the Vice President dies.

The Speaker of the House is not the thing attached to the White House stereo system.

The President is not allowed to wager the state of Arkansas or Florida when gambling.

Abraham Lincoln is not currently sleeping in the Lincoln Bedroom.

If the President's golf ball comes to rest right at the edge of the hole, the President is not allowed to use nuclear weapons to jiggle the ball the rest of the way in.

Other world leaders won't necessary get the "Whasssup" Budweiser beer commercial.

The President is not allowed to invade Canada or Mexico to get Commander and Chief practice.

The Oval Office does not make a good racquetball court.

The President is not allowed to chop off the head of the first lady if she happens to displease him.

When making a speech, the President should not grab the lectern and announce, "I'm king of the world."

The red phone in the Oval Office is not to be used to order pizza.

The President is not allowed to use the CIA, the FBI, or the NSA to spy on the cards of his buddies while playing poker.

The President is not allowed to threaten people with nuclear annihilation if they refuse to give to his reelection campaign.

It is inappropriate for the President to tell others that if they don't start treating him with more respect, then he's going to have to tell his father on them.

The President's cabinet is not where the President hides his booze.

The President cannot take whatever he wants from a store without paying for it as the so called "Leader of the free world."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


  1. Every two hours, buy something.

  2. Tell friends to go see movies you didn't even like.

  3. Once a month, shop outside your demographic.  Remember, no matter your race, creed, or color, we are all just shopping-Americans.

  4. Make President's Day a gift giving holiday.

  5. Ad a fourth meal to your day.  Make it a full meal and eat it at a fancy restaurant.

  6. Think of credit cards as free money.  And because they're free money, always try to pay full price when using them.

  7. When visiting a friend's house, squeeze out some of their toothpaste into the waste basket.

  8. Don't just make impulse purchases, make repulse purchases.  Buy things you don't like.

  9. Memorize the addresses of three people.  Then, whenever you are reading a magazine and the insert falls out, fill it out for one of those people.  Don't worry, they can always cancel the magazine later.

  10. Once a year, burn all your clothes.

  11. Advertisers work hard selling feminine care products.  Men should buy them to.

  12. Whenever your car gets a flat tire, replace the car.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


If you're reading this, that means it's around November 30, 2000.  Wow, congratulations, glad you found my time capsule, man.  First of all, even though my time capsule might look like a big pill, don't try to swallow it. It won't get you high or anything, and it'll probably only give you a headache.

I can't believe it.  November 30th, 2000.  You're like time travelers to me.  People of the future.  Just look at you, all the way out there in the future.  Freaky, man.

Me, I'm from all the way back in the fall of 1967.  Just past the Summer of Love, although I'll never know why they call it that, I didn't get laid once, but not to worry, I know how to take care of my own needs, if you know what I mean, it's just, for me, it was more like the Summer of Glove.

The future must be great.  I mean, now that free love has been raging for like, fifty years or something, I bet instead of greeting people with a handshake, like we do, you just go right ahead and screw.  Why not?

And I bet technology has changed everything.  Like Lava Lamps.  I bet you now build Lava Lamps as big as skyscrapers, so that everyone can crowd around them and stare at the floating blobs.  Cool.

What about flying cars?  Better yet, have they built a flying VW Bus?  Can you hitchhike to the moon yet?

And what about work?  Do people have to even work anymore in the future?  Bet you don't.  Well, sure, some people have to work, but that's because they like to work.  And they're good at it.  Yep, I bet the future is just one big party.

Hippies are probably running the world.  Actually, just thinking about it, hippies are pretty mellow types, and running the world sounds like one big hassle, so then again, maybe they're not.

Want to know why I sent this?  I took my own trip, man.  An acid trip.  But I wasn't just tripping, man, I was time-tripping.  And I found myself in November 30, 2000.  Don't know how it happened.  All I saw were a bunch of blue dots.  Blue dots everywhere.  That and a bunch of zeros and ones.  They were like the air.  What's up with that?  Have zeros and ones taken over your world or something?

Now take a look way down deep inside the capsule and find the little baggy.  That's my stash.  Bona-fide 1967 Columbian Gold.  Smoke some.  Then go get some of the best shit you can find and smoke that.  This is my very own stoner time-travel comparison test.  What'd you find out?  Yeah, you're stuff is probably better, but my weed's not so bad, right?  We grew some pretty good shit back then.  Now remember that! 

Well, that's pretty much it.  Hope you're happy, healthy, and hippie.

Later, future dude.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Richard Nixon: Had Nixon married Yoko Ono, Tricky Dick would have been exposed to Eastern Philosophy, abstract art, and he would have smoked lots of pot.  Also, he would have played the sitar.  As President and First Lady, Dick and Yoko would have had bed-ins in the Lincoln Bedroom, where they'd gather the world leaders together and sing, "All we are saying, is give Dick a chance." Also, under Yoko's influence, Nixon would have turned the country into a flower superpower.  Still, the couple would have fought bitterly over Viet Nam, and after the worst battles, Nixon would have stepped up the bombing just to spite her.  Watergate would have still happened, only Nixon would have made his resignation speech on the roof of the White House, with Yoko standing by, banging a tambourine.  His final words would have been, "It's just Yoko and Kissenger and me, and that's reality."  Then they would have gone to live on an ashram in India, with Kissenger.

John Cleese: Yoko's presence amongst the members of Monty Python would have caused considerable strife.  Cleese would have insisted that Yoko appear in skits, where she'd stand in the background, not talking, looking pale and severe, until Terry Gilliam dropped down a giant cartoon foot to squash her.  Monty Python would not have lasted nearly as long, as John Cleese would have run off with Yoko to be a lumberjack.

Donald Trump: First, had The Donald married Yoko, she would have been called The Yoko.  And just like with Ivana, Donald would have made up stories about Yoko's past, telling people she used to be on the Austrian Olympic Ski Team, but no one would have believed him.  The Donald would have introduced conceptual art into his buildings, and in Trump Tower he'd have one elevator, all white, that kept going up, and up, until it reached the very top, where it would stop, and the doors would open, and all you would see were the words TRUMP.  Also, the Donald would have written the song Imagine, only with the words, "Imagine all my money, I wonder if you can."  The relationship would not have lasted two years.

Berry Gordy: Had Yoko married Barry Gordy, it would have mainly affected Diana Ross.  Barry would have insisted Yoko join the Supremes, which would not have been a good match.  As the other girls sang and danced to, "Stop, In The Name of Love," Yoko would just stand there, impassive, immobile.  Occasionally, she would let out a warble, then screech.  Diana and Yoko would have fought over everything, until one day, Yoko would have turned up dead on the side of a highway, a nail file in her back.  Diana would still be in prison, queen of her cell block.

Neil Armstrong: If Neil Armstrong had fallen under the spell of Yoko, he would have still been the first man on the moon, only he would have brought Yoko.  That would not have made the other astronauts happy.  And as Neil stepped out onto the moon, he would have said, "A small step for man, a giant step for the avant-garde."  Then Neil and Yoko would have carved a giant mustache on the man in the moon.  Next, the two would have had a moon-in, where they practiced scream therapy, because in space, no one can hear you primal scream.  Annoyed, the other astronauts would have left without them.  Stranded, Neil and Yoko would have made love on the moon until they ran out of oxygen and died.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


To Jerry, who took me to bed, but then didn't visit, didn't write, and pretty much acted like I had the plague.  Well guess what?  I do have the plague.  And so do you.

The Pope is looking for someone to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Outhouse.  If you do a good job it could lead to bigger things.

Study-of-Man girls' night out at the Kasbah.  Perfectly proportioned guys guaranteed.  Bring coins.

Looking to get ahead at work or switch jobs?  If you're the type of person who doesn't mind letting a few heads fly, then come to Machiavelli Headhunting.

Is this the Renaissance or the Enlightenment?  I can't figure out what to wear.

Leonardo De Vinci is looking for his lost notebook: you can keep the drawings of the underwater ship and the flying machine, but please return the detailed study of the blow-up doll.

Do you miss the good old days?  Are you tired of the Renaissance?  Come this Sunday to the Dark Ages Fair.

I just invented the printing press and can now do what was never thought possible: I'm selling pictures of the bottom half of the Mona Lisa totally nude!!!

I am starting a rock band.  Anyone who wants to join come to town center tomorrow.  And bring rocks.

Bob the Barber is practicing amputations this Wednesday.  Let him lop of a limb and he'll give you a free haircut.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Coconut Grave: On main street in a small town, a killer is shot and killed at the base of a palm tree.  Somehow, his spirit seeps into the tree and takes it over.  Suddenly, the palm tree starts terrorizing the small town by dropping coconuts on car hoods.  The only person who knows what's going on is the local palm reader, but can she stop it?

Night of the Shopping Dead: The midnight madness sale at a New England department store is attracting the wrong king of shopper: the undead.  They're pushy, obnoxious, and worst of all, they don't have any money.  But when there are no more sales in hell, the dead will shop the earth.

Children of James Caan: It seems there's a group of creepy children terrorizing the Playboy mansion late at night.  No one knows where they come from, only that they all look like James Caan.

Meow Kampf: The Olson's have a new cat named Boots.  But after they take the cat for a haircut, they notice that it has a strange little mustache.  Then they catch the cat marching around in a goose-step and reading German.  With growing horror the Olson's realize that their adorable little kitty just might be the reincarnation of Adolph Hitler.

Mary's Baby: Tom's special gift is he can see into the future.  Mary's special gift is she can see into the past.  The two have a baby, and to the couple's shock and horror, the little girl Mary gives birth to can only see into the present.

The Deep Fryer of Youth: James discovers something strange at his fast food job.  Whatever he dips down into his deep fryer comes out not only delightfully crispy, but also remarkably younger.  James tests it on mice, a guinea pig, all leading up to the final test: his aging mother.

Telltale Refrigerator Magnets: Every time Paula fixes a meal, the magnetic letters on her refrigerator rearrange themselves to spell out exactly what she's fixing.  Paula thinks this is all pretty neat until one night she goes to the refrigerator and discovers the horrible words: FOOD POISONING.

Dogzilla: One day Bob comes home to find that his golden retriever has grown to massive proportions.  The dog towers over Bob's small Maine town.  Bob immediately tells the dog to sit, but the dog disobeys and runs off and chews-up the local meat processing plant.  So Bob is forced to try and gain control over a giant dog that he should have been more strict with from the beginning.

Stephen King's Perfect Love Story: Janet and Mark are the perfect match.  They fall in love, marry, have children, have grandchildren, and live happily ever after until one night, watching TV in bed, Mark hits a strange button on his remote control, turns into a demon, and eats Janet alive. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Tom, Tom the President's son
Stole the payroll
And away he run
Once the money was all spent
Tom decided to repent
Tom got promoted Vice-President

Mary had a little loan
Got fleeced in three-card monty
The loan sharks got her so mixed-up
She fled to Carlo Monte

Twinkle, Twinkle S.U.V.
Please switch lanes so I can see
Up above the street so high
Like a spaceship in the sky
If you hit me I will die
S.U.V. speeding home to bed
Don't you see that curve ahead?
Rolling, Rolling S.U.V.
Too high center of gravity

Jack dot nimble
Jack dot quick
Jack doesn't understand the internet

This little piggy went to marketing
This little piggy worked the phones
This little piggy did the payroll
This little piggy telecommuted from home
This little piggy wrote the business plan
But because of little piggy discrimination
Little Piggy Inc. couldn't get a loan

Georgie, Porgie, Goodman & Fry
Sued 4M and made them cry
The two sides settled for 1M
And that's how they became 3M

CEO Jack Horner
Had an office on the corner
With windows that were vast
Still the Chairman's suite was bigger
It was Jack who pulled the trigger
Nice guys finish last!

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Kiss My Ash Goodbye

My Family Was Too Cheap
For a Casket

My Crotch Is In A Bigger Urn

For My Next Death-Defying Trick...
Oh, That's Right, I'm Dead

It's Murder In Here

This Sure Beats Working

Surgeon General Warning: Dying
Can Be Hazardous To Your Health

Look For Me At

I Don't Miss You Either

Hey, Who Put A Cigarette
In Here?

My Other Urn Is In A Museum

I Did Not Say I Was Dying,
I Said I Was Dying For a Drink

Yank My Lid And Blow Me

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Beginnings:  The Clown Mob got its start in the Great Depression (when everyone was desperate for a laugh) with gum running.  Mugsy the Clown was the first gum runner.  While gum running wasn't illegal, or profitable, Mugsy used to get a big kick out of being stopped by the cops, telling them exactly what he was up to, then cracking up when the police searched his vehicle and discovered he had said gum and not gun.

Area of Operations:  Joke Sharking, Children's Parties, Gamboling (not to be confused with gambling), Joke Protection Rackets, Circuses, Racketeering (you don't pay up, they'll make a racket all day long), Top Ten Lists (supposedly they're in deep with Letterman), and Mime Fees (pay up or they'll tell).

Top Clown Mobs:  

The Joy Buzzards: A loud and grating group known mostly for racketeering.

Arrow in the Head Gang:  Known mostly for children's parties, they'll show up at a kid's party, provide decent entertainment, then demand a cut of the birthday presents.  Also known to do light magic and make valuables disappear.

The Keystone Robbers: This ingenious group shows up at banks unannounced (dressed like cops), start making merriment, and get them laughing so hard, they don't even know they've been robbed until the gang is long gone.

Clown on Clown Violence:

April Fool's Day Massacre: Two clown groups ran into each other trying to pull off the same prank.  Both groups started shooting darts at each other until the event took a tragic turn and one clown lost an eye.

Knuckles the Clown Incident: No one knows why Knuckles was killed, only how.  Someone tampered with the brakes on Knuckles tricycle, and under the big top, in front of a large crowd, Knuckles lost control of his tricycle and drove right into the lions' cage.

Silly Vinny: Silly Vinny had a lock on children's parties in Canarsie, Brooklyn, and refused to share with other clown mobs.  One day Silly Vinny was fished out of the East River wearing a concrete clown nose.

Puzo the Clown: Puzo also wanted nothing to do with clown gangs, and one day he got careless and forgot to check the front his clown shoes when he was putting them on.  The shoe was rigged, there was an explosion, and Puzo's rubber-red clown nose was found three miles away in a huckleberry bush.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Apocalypse Later

Planet of the Seeing-Eye Dogs

Like Story

To Russia With Dressing


Sophie's Multiple Choice

On Golden Blonde

Marquis de Sade in Love

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Film Festival

E.T. - The Extra-Testicle

The Spanglish Patient

The Look of Music

The Hatchback of Notre Dame

Don With the Wind

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Cooking Italian Without Garlic: Everybody loves Italian food, and even the most discriminating vampire will tell you that some of the richest, most succulent Italian red sauces compare quite favorably with aortal blood.  But how hard is it to find a pasta recipe without the ingredient that is the nemesis of vampires everywhere? garlic.  In Cooking Italian Without Garlic, we’ll teach you what vampire-friendly ingredients to use and still create tooth-suckingly good dishes.

Grooming for Vampires: How many times have you gone out thinking you looked like George Hamilton only to discover you look more like Nosferatu?  As all vampires know, it’s hard to look your best when you can’t even see your own reflection.  Take this course, and you'll be able to go out at night knowing not one hair is out of place.

Long Long Term Investing: Don’t you wish you had bought Manhattan before the white man came?  Vampires have long retirements, which means they need safe investments, investments that will continue to give a steady cash flow over centuries, but how safe is too safe?  Take this course and we’ll teach you how to invest for the long long term.

Open Your Own Blood Bank: How would you like to feast on as much blood as you liked without all that bothersome kicking and screaming?  Did you know that you can open a blood bank in 22 states without passing a vampire-screening?  With this course we'll teach you the ins and outs of opening your own blood bank so that, instead of having to chase your next meal through the streets, they'll come to you.

P.V.A.: Vampires have one of the highest rates of alcoholism for all the undead, which is why we have created P.V.A., or Positive Vampire Attitude.  Our attitude is, just because vampires have to stalk and kill for every meal doesn't mean they have to feel bad about themselves.

Fang Shui: Master Vampire Bruce Vogolyte has taken the ancient Chinese practice of Feng Shui and updated it for vampires everywhere to create Fang Shui.  Very simply, this course will teach you how to design and arrange your earthen coffin to maximize hell and harmony.

Health and Fitness for Vampires: Did you know some vampires are allergic to certain blood types and don't even know it?  If you're a vampire in America, that means you generally feast on cholesterol rich blood. Because of that, some vampires have become so overweight that when they transform into a bat they can't even get aloft.  Also, this course covers all important vampire oral hygiene.

Liposuction for Vampires: Liposuction, or the sucking of fat out of hips and thighs, can be a great, and lucrative, side business for vampires in need of extra cash.  In Liposuction for Vampires we will teach you everything you need to know about opening up your own clinic, including how to suck out the cellulite without leaving fang marks, as well as which mouthwash is best for getting rid of the terrible taste of fat.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


    Sure, he was Jesus Christ, the only son of god, the savior of mankind, and sure, there were plenty of religious zealots who wanted to know if this was his first or second coming, but Jesus didn’t care, he wanted nothing to do with any of that:  what Jesus wanted to do was act.  He wanted to be a movie star.

    And you better believe his father wasn’t too happy about that.  Not one bit.  God had sent him down to do good works, to create good will, not to star in the sequel of “Good Will Hunting.”  But Jesus could care less how all-seeing or all-knowing his Pop was, if Dad didn’t want him to be in the movies, then how come he was born under a star?

    So Christ was born, Christ was raised, and Christ moved out to L.A.  As soon as he got out West Christ found an agent, but it immediately went downhill from there.  In his very first interview Jesus let it slip that he thought he was going to be bigger than the Beatles, and the fact that he had yet to make his first feature film made more than a few people start hoping for his failure.  And then he started calling himself Jesus of Hollywood, giving himself top billing, like he was bigger than the town, which made him even more enemies. 

    Needless to say Jesus did not get work.  Not one audition.  Things got so bad he couldn’t even get a cameo on “Touched by an Angel.” But Christ was stubborn, and he was determined to make it without having to resort to his father’s considerable connections.

    At one point he even became a Scientologist, thinking it would help his career.  But when, one day, with not a cloud in the sky, lightning struck the Scientology building and it caught on fire, and, as soon as the firemen got the blaze under control, a Fed-Ex cargo plane crashed into the building and smashed it into pieces, and then a military test missile went off-target, blasting those pieces into pieces, you can bet Jesus was no longer a Scientologist.

    Finally, after a year and a half of trying to break into the business, Jesus got an audition.  It was a small part in a small film, and they brought him in for a screen test.  It was right after the audition that word spread:  Jesus could not act.  Not to save his soul.  He was too preachy, too self-conscious, and while he may be God’s only son, he certainly didn’t have any God given acting abilities.

      But this only made Jesus more determined.  He moved to Rome to study acting with the Vatican.  When that didn’t work out he moved to New York.  While certainly a terrible actor, Jesus was a determined student, and he quickly started getting bit parts in independent films.  Producers loved him because he kept budgets down.  When not acting Jesus would busy himself with craft services, turning plain water into Perrier, or he'd take day-old bagels and miraculously make them fresh again.

    After six months of bit parts Jesus was finally offered a plum role, the part of Biff in an Off-Broadway production of “Death of Salesman.”  To prepare for the role Jesus went into the desert for forty days and forty nights, thinking only of Biff.  When he came out, he was ready.

    On opening night, everyone and the Pope was there, and except for a plague of locusts between the second and third acts, the play went off without a hitch.  But the next day, everything changed.  The reviews were in.  While many of the reviewers said they enjoyed the show, when it came to Jesus, and his role as Biff, the critics simply crucified him.

    The play closed the next day, and after that experience, Jesus was through with Broadway.  Though it was now widely known Christ was a bad actor,  that's not enough to stop a Hollywood career.  At least he new had some buzz to his name.  So Christ moved back to L.A. and immediately scored a top agent at C.A.A.  Michael Ovitz agreed to manage him, and the once frosty relationship between Ovitz and C.A.A. began to thaw, which only cemented Jesus' reputation as a peacemaker.

    Everyone agreed that J.C. should change his name: to something less ethnic, less churchy, a name that didn't immediately pigeonhole him into better-than-thou roles, but still something catchy, something Hollywood, so Jesus Christ changed his name to Jesus Stallone.

    This worked out well for the Stallones, as even Frank began to get work.  But still Jesus got none.

    They hired a PR firm to figure out why no one would hire Jesus, other than the fact that he was a bad actor and the general godlessness of Hollywood.  After some research they discovered that, while there were no negatives attached to Jesus, that was not true of his father.  People saw God as angry and wrathful, as someone who it was hard to do business with, who didn't even have his own cell phone.  So they decided to portray God as the ultimate big-time director, the director of all things seen and unseen, and while he may lose his temper every once in a while, how is that any different from Cecile B. De Mille?

    Calls started coming in.  Scorcese showed interest in hiring Jesus for a biblical picture, where Jesus would play himself, and he damn near got the part, it came down to two actors, but he inevitably lost the part to Robert DiNero.

    Another offer came along.  Jesus went to the audition and nailed the role, winning the part of a lonely stutterer with a learning disability in the film, "A Shoe For John Henry."  The movie proved to be a total downer, and bombed big time, but Jesus actually drew praise.  While many critics deplored the picture, they did say that Jesus had somehow managed to transcend the awful film.

    There was talk of putting Jesus into a James Bond type vehicle, but as one producer succinctly put it, "Audiences don't know much, but Jesus H. Stallone, they know Jesus never gets the girl."

    Then his big break came.  James Cameron was in the middle of a shoot, another picture on water, when Dennis Hopper came down with rickets.  The film was "Unholy Water," and they brought in Jesus to play the villain.  Some thought they were trying to cast against type, some said they brought in Jesus because of his water-walking skills (the main character trait of the villain), while others said they were simply using Jesus to turn around a production that was cursed from the get go.

    The problem was the weather.  But whatever pull they thought Jesus might have with the man upstairs, it didn't help.  As soon as Jesus got onto the set the weather turned worse.  It wouldn't stop raining.  Kevin Costner caught pneumonia and the set sank.  While many say Jesus saves, Jesus couldn't save this picture.

    But the picture was saved in post-production and went into wide release.  The critics were brutal, the box office worse.  One producers said, "Jesus might be able to open even the hardest heart, but Jesus can't open a picture."  While some were tempted to point out that Jesus didn't even have top billing, when a picture this big fails, someone has to take the fall, and who better to blame than Jesus?

    Jesus dropped out of sight and wasn't seen for six months.  Finally, he showed up in the unlikeliest places, on a daytime soap.  Jesus had won the minor role of Dr. Luke John, a brilliant doctor with a drinking problem, on the soap "One Life To Live."  His role grew.  He was voted daytimes sexiest star.  He even started getting stopped on the street where people only recognized him as Dr. Luke John. 

    All of the sudden the soap changed direction.  One night, when Dr. John was getting drunk in a bar, he was called in to the emergency room.  Trying to inject a strung-out hooker with morphine, Dr. John slipped and injected himself.  He had an allergic reaction and died.  Ratings went through the roof.  When questioned about his character's untimely death, Jesus didn't seem worried.  As a matter of fact, he seemed to have all the confidence in the world that somehow, someway, his character would be resurrected.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


TOKYO TOSSED SALAD - Tasty, good for you, with just a hint of anchovies.


Mixed Greens (300 acres of deciduous forest)

1/2 Tokyo fish market

60 tons of ham (sliced thinly)

4 Freighters of Olive Oil

2 Semis of crude oil

48 dump trucks of red wine vinegar

1 crouton factory

40,000 bacon bits (whole pigs)

4 helicopters on the half-shell

Assorted chunks of Tokyo

Tsunami (large splash) of honey-mustard

1 small can of anchovies



Place ham in even strips throughout forest.  Add 1/2 Tokyo fish market.  Then dash back and forth through forest while swiping tail back and forth.  Next, create bacon bits by roasting pigs with blast of fire from mouth.  Add bits to salad.  Next, rampage through Tokyo, collecting chunks of concrete that fall of building.  Mix chunks in then pile everything into large mountain.  Dump on oils, vinegar, and helicopters on the half-shell.  Toss violently.  Finally, sprinkle crouton factory over top, add anchovies, and chill to serve.


Serves one large mutant lizard.


TABERNACLE TURTLE SOUP - This dish is best prepared in the Houston Astrodome.



1 giant flying turtle (preferably Rodan)

34 garbage trucks (full)

The Great Salt Lake

6 million celery sticks

2 cubes beef bullion

42 steam shovels of sugar

1 orange grove (600 orange trees)

1 freighter of butter

2 blue whales

The Mormon Tabernacle Choir



Gingerly open Astrodome with large can opener.  Add Great Salt Lake until 3/4's  full.  Battle Rodan to death.  Add Rodan to soup.  Mix in garbage trucks and celery sticks.  Sweeten.  Add butter.  Drag high voltage wires into soup.  As soon as soup boils, add live blue whales, and while whales are thrashing, add orange trees.  When soup returns to boil, remove live wires and allow soup to cool, then sprinkle on members of Tabernacle Choir to taste.


Serves one large mutant lizard.


EMPIRE POT-LUCK ROAST - Good for health and virility.



3 stocked supermarkets (to assure a balanced meal)

1 herd of buffalo

16 frozen mastodons (see frozen section in Antarctica)

3 silos of corn

45 Dodge Rams

3 talons (large pinches) of black pepper

1 highway overpass (oils are good for skin)

The Empire State Building (excellent roughage)



Use large roasting pan.  Place contents of supermarkets and herd of buffalo in pan.  Mash.  Combine frozen mastodons and Dodge Rams. Stir, and while stirring, add corn.  Cube Empire State Building together with highway overpass and sprinkle over top.  Cook in nuclear reactor on high (meltdown) for 5 hours.  This dish can be garnished with large oak trees or razor wire. 


Serves one large lonely mutant lizard.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


I was wondering if you could make eternity a little less long.

Could someone please check the thermostat in my room.  It always says 70 degrees, and I know it's hotter than that.  And every time I adjust it to cooler, it only gets hotter.  Something's definitely busted.

I just wanted to let you know that, while the McHell Grill is a total pigsty, and the food godforsaken, the gazpacho's actually not so bad.

I've gotten used to the unremitting misery of hell, but I think playing Michael Bolton at full volume all the time is taking the idea of damnation just a little too far.

Why is United Airlines the only airline down here?  Don't you know flying with them is utter hell!

The No Smoking sign in the burning pit of damnation has got to go.  I don't see why we can't enjoy a smoke while our flesh is being roasted.  I know you're not doing it for our health.

Could someone please fix the soda machine in the lobby.  When I put in change nothing comes out.  The last time I even heard a loud THUNK, but still no can.  I'm getting really thirsty and I'm running out of quarters.

Great, now the gazpacho is terrible too.  Thanks a lot.

The build-it-yourself computer kit that you sold me has over two million parts and only comes with one small page of instructions.  How do I know there are that many parts?  Your computer help desk kept me waiting so long I was able to count them all. But I don't want you to think this is a complaint.  As a matter of fact, it kind of reminds me of home.

I tend to be an upbeat person, but the fact that all the towns down here are named Unpleasantville and No Hope, and the fact that we all have to greet each other with Have a bad day, is really starting to get on my nerves.

This is my 1,653,014 complaint, and so far nothing has been done.  I'm starting to think you people don't even read these.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Front: To the man who stole my heart.

Inside: Too bad you tried to steal everything else. 


Front: Happy Birthday to a man of many convictions.

Inside: Assault with a deadly weapon, armed robbery, breaking and entering...


Front: Now that you're in prison, instead of blowing out candles on your birthday.

Inside: You can just blow the other prisoners.


Front: Remember when you promised to love me forever.  Well I finally believe you.

Inside: Especially since, unless you win a stay of execution, forever is only until next Tuesday.


Front: I'm sure every relationship must go through their share of trials. 

Inside: But not for murder one.


Front: I should have realized you were a criminal when we got married and the preacher asked...

Inside: If you would love and cherish me for 25 to life.


Front: I'm glad you're a convicted murderer because next Halloween you can dress up as Captain Crunch.

Inside: And tell everyone you're a cereal killer.




Front: To the woman who promised to tell me everything.

Inside: Why the hell didn't you tell me about the silent alarm.


Front: Do you remember when I told you I worked in a bank?

Inside: Bet you didn't think I meant bank robber.


Front: The little birdie goes tweet tweet

         The rubber ducky goes quack quack

         The tiny car goes beep beep

Inside: And I am locked up in Sing Sing

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


It’s best that you try not to take over the whole world at one time.  If you must take over the entire world, try doing it one continent at a time.

When hiding out from Bond, do not go to an exotic local, as that’s where Bond is most likely to be found.  Remember, Bond has never been seen in Detroit or Ohio.

Never try to break into James Bond’s car and be very wary about riding next to him while he’s driving.  Also, it’s best to avoid him while he’s skiing.

If you have a lover, make sure they're named Betty Badhead or Fanny Galore.

Because taking over the world in a James Bond film can be hazardous to your health, make sure your Last Will And Testament is up-to-date.

When setting the fuse on a bomb, set the timer to go off with ten seconds left, as Bond will invariably defuse the bomb with five or less seconds remaining.

Even if you’ve designed the most ingenuous contraption to kill Bond, do not leave him unattended until he is fully dead.

Never, under any circumstances, should you ever let Bond take out a pen or check his watch or fiddle with his cuff links right before you are about to kill him.

If you think you’ve just killed Bond, try not to brag or gloat.  He is probably only stunned.

Don’t even think of building a hollow volcano to house your evil operations.  That’s the first place he’s going to look.

Most important of all, resist any urge to tell Bond all the details of your master plan just as you're about to succeed.  It'll only come back to bite you.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 




Sign: Your wife has heat blisters around mouth and thighs.

Conclusion: Your wife is likely having an affair with the Human Torch.

Solution: Get a water bed.


Sign: You find funky sex gadgets under the bed with Batman's insignia.

Conclusion: Batman's probably been in your bed.

Solution: Don't jump to conclusions because it might be the Joker or another of Batman's archenemies trying to make him look bad.


Sign: You find lipstick and heal marks all over the walls and ceiling of your bedroom.

Conclusion: Superman or Spiderman

Solution: Look for more clues.


Sign: You come home to find the bedroom trashed, the bed smashed to pieces, and a condom split wide open.

Conclusion: Your wife's doing the wild thing with The Thing.

Solution: Bring in Superman for a threesome, tell him your wife thought The Thing was better in bed, and watch Superman fly into a jealous rage and kick The Thing's ass. 


Sign: You discover refrigerator magnets strewn all over the bedroom.

Conclusion: Your wife has developed a strong attraction to Magneto.

Solution: A powerful demagnetizer under the bed will give Magneto impotence.


Sign: While watching an overhead shot of New York, you see your wife's nightie strewn over the Empire State Building.

Conclusion: Superman

Solution: Kryptonite condoms.


Sign: You find cobwebs in your wife's panties.

Conclusion: Spiderman

Solution: Spray Raid in her panties.


Sign: While having sex, your wife screams out, "I bet your spider sense is tingling now!"

Conclusion: Spiderman

Solution: See above (meaning see example above, not look for Spiderman above the bed).


Sign: You discover a sprig of seaweed under the pillow.

Conclusion: Aquaman

Solution: Nail down your toilet seats and drain your pool if you have one.


Sign: You come home to find your wife stuck to the wall by a green viscous fluid.

Conclusion: The Hulk

Solution: Get out fast because the Hulk has been known to swing both ways.


Sign: Although happy, your wife always looks like hell. 

Conclusion: Spawn, from the Army of Hellspawns.

Solution: Spawn can usually be thwarted by a strong spermicide.


Sign: While laying in bed next to your wife, you have a brief sensation that she's having furious sex, but the sensation only lasts for a second.

Conclusion: The Flash

Solution: Do nothing, as the Flash's flings never last all that long.


Note: We should consider ourselves lucky that there are no milkmen or mailmen with superpowers or this problem would be much more widespread.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


Please don't feed the Playmates.

All men using Grecian Formula must wear a bathing cap while swimming.

No running or splashing in the orgy pit.

Please don't bother the celebrities while they're having sex.

Anyone who finds James Caan's toupee (which he lost near the waterfall), please bring it to lost & found.

If Bob Hope collapses he should only be revived by a fully qualified Playboy bunny.

Any white blobs found floating around the grotto area are the sole property of Hugh Hefner and Playboy Enterprises.

Please don't tell the Playmates they look completely different without an airbrush.

If the Viagra dispenser is out in the men's room please inform the staff.

O.J. Simpson is no longer allowed to strip-search the bunnies while searching for clues to the real killers.

Please don't place your babies on the changing table in the women's room.  That table is reserved for old men.

The topless life guards around the pool are not qualified to get their hair wet.  Swim at your own risk!

Charlton Heston is not allowed into the orgy pit until he has completely removed his dentures.

Anyone who tells the bunnies that they are a "big movie" director must have directed a movie.

Please note: agreeing to chat with Charlie Sheen is considered a consent to have sex with him.

And don't forget to pick up your t-shirt, "My Sugar Daddy went to the Playboy Mansion and all I got was this wet t-shirt," on your way out. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


In an effort to increase circulation and, in the words of one academic, “Not be so damn arcane,” a number of academic and medical journals have decided to embrace Hollywood and the celebrity culture.  Here are a few:

The Journal of the Superstar Superstring Theory:  The primary focus of this journal is the “Theory of Everything Hollywood,” which hypothesizes that Hollywood was created by a collision between a superstar and a superagent, or what is known as the “really big bang.”  But that does not mean the journal is solely theoretical.  All theorems are tested in superstar supercolliders such as Spago, or The Ivy.

X-Rays to the Stars:  This is for the fan who simply cannot get enough of their favorite stars and who has more than a passing interest in radiology.  Articles published in X-Rays to the Stars have been “Thoracic Images of the Backstreet Boys” as well as “Acute Colonic Obstructions of the Stars.”  The journal also considers famous MRIs and CAT scans.

Celebrity Fruit:  This is the top journal for the new branch of science known as Hollyfood.  Celebrity Fruit takes the recombinant genes of Hollywood stars and splices them into the seeds of household and exotic fruits.  Notable successes have included a Jack Lemon orange (which shared his incredible longevity), and a Brad peach Pitt (an amazing likeness).  One entire issue was devoted to the introduction of genes from Hollywood’s hottest stars into passion fruit.  A ripe combination indeed!

Utter Chaos Theory:  The field of chaos theory has finally acknowledged that there is no better place to test their theories than Hollywood.  The central concept behind Utter Chaos Theory is the “butterfly wing effect,” which attempts to calculate how a single butterfly flapping its wings over Tokyo might start a chain reaction that could ultimately result in a box office disaster like “Battlefield Earth.”

The Journal of Discrete Applied Mathematics and Gossip:  Finally, a journal that combines the field of discrete applied mathematics with matters more indiscrete.  The J.D.A.M.G. promises to bring a whole new audience to applied math as well as a much-needed intellectual discipline to gossip.  And to those elitists who believe that math and gossip have no business being together, a reminder that, often enough, one plus one plus one equals scandal.

Name Dropping in Primitive Cultures:  Did you know that if you were to tell a native of Tobago that you were a friend of a friend of the person who performed the feng shui ceremony on Calista Flockheart’s new pied-a-terre they would have no idea who you were talking about?  That is the basis for the “Theory of Celebritivity,” which states that all celebrity is relative.  Also covered in the Theory is the “Lewis Law,” which illustrates how a Hollywood has-been could still be considered a big star in France.  Name Dropping in Primitive Cultures is intended for the serious student of cultural anthropology as well as the adventure-loving socialite.

Human A-List Reproduction:  The journal that was Human Reproduction has gone glossy and the publication that once brought you all the up-to-date research on human reproduction now also dishes the dirt on who’s doing who.  If that’s not enough, every issue gives you an in-depth look inside a celebrity bedroom.  Editor’s Note: Papers submitted need not focus exclusively on sex for procreation, as Hollywood is the town that put the P.R. in reproduction.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


First Known Dirty Limerick

There once was a man from Galilee

Who liked to swing nude from a tree

Though big as an ape he could not find a mate

All could see he was hung like a flea

This One Dates Back to 3BC

An old man and his blind wife were arguing over the man's wandering eye.  The woman warned her husband that if he ever mentioned another woman to her again, the marriage was over.  Just then, outside the window, the man saw a dog trying to make it with a donkey.  The dog was in heat and kept lifting her tail up to receive the donkey.  But the male donkey was not interested.  Finally, irritated, the donkey whipped around and managed to sit right down on the dog.  Watching this, the man turned to his wife and said, "You should see the ass on that bitch."

First Known Unknown Comic

The very first Unknown Comic can be traced all the way back to the Cro-Magnon Man.  Records indicate that this unknown comic was not very smart, or very successful, as he would go up in front of the audience with his eyes closed and think no one could see him.

Prehistoric Light Bulb Joke

How many Neanderthals does it take to screw in a light bulb?

What's a light bulb?

Precolonial American Joke

One day, an Indian tribe was holding tryouts for their new witch doctor.  The whole tribe had gathered, and after a full day of contests, only three braves remained.  The final contest was to see who could start a fire on a bunch of sticks using just their fingers.  The tribal Chief would judge.  So the first brave stepped forward, crouched down, and placed three fingers on the pile of wood.  Then, as instructed, he twirled his fingers around on the wood three times then stopped.  Then he said, "Where I've rubbed these fingers three a fire must start for all to see."  He waited.  Nothing happened.  So the next brave stepped forward, did the same thing, and again nothing.  Finally, the last brave stepped forward.  He crouched down, put three fingers on the bundle of sticks, rubbed them around and around, stopped, then said, "Where I've rubbed these fingers three a fire must start for all to see."  Right then, the Chief's wife's crotch caught on fire.

Cave Man Knock Knock Joke

Knock Knock

Who's there?


Link who?

I don't know, he's still missing.

The First Joke I Ever Wrote (no joke!)

Why did the Six Million Dollar Man's feet fall off?

He forgot to tighten his sockets.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


If Napster is allowed to continue, some believe we will be reading the following headlines:

The gas station attendant formerly known as Prince has changed his name yet again, to Earl.  The owner of the Sunoco where Earl works told us, "I don't care what he calls himself, just as long as he pays for his own damn work shirt."

With no prospects, having lost all their money to bad investments, R.E.M. chose to be put to sleep yesterday.

Van Halen's van was repossessed the other day, so it looks like they'll be Halen a cab from now on.

Ernst & Young completed their merger last week, creating the superfirm of Crosby, Stills, Nash, Ernst & Young.  They will be doing a tour of board rooms in the fall.

'N Sync has changed their name to Toilet 'N Sync, as the boys have decided to hang-up their musical careers for a more lucrative career in bathroom fixture sales.

James Brown was fired recently from his job mowing lawns.  Explained Terry, owner of Terry's Mulch and Mow, "I hate to say it, but James Brown is NOT the hardest working man in the lawn care business."

It seems Britney Spears will be auctioning her virginity off on E-Bay.  But don't think shows a weakening of her moral standards.  The highest bidder will have to marry her first.

Several poor African nations have gotten together to hold a food drive for this countries ailing rockers.

Sting was arrested for embezzling funds from the Rain Forest Foundation.  As he was being led away, Sting shouted, "Screw the rain forests, I'm bloody broke."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 


If you are visiting the Black Plague, don't wear open-toed shoes or sandals.  And get your shots!

If you can't find a good time-travel agent in your area, go to your local university and look-up the most eminent historian.

There are no decent bed and breakfasts in Ancient Egypt.

It is inappropriate to bring children to Pompeii before the eruption of Vesuvius.

Many people make the mistake of packing too many candles when traveling to the Dark Ages.  It is not always dark!

If you are planning on making more than one stop on your time-travels, do not pack batteries.  We're not sure what happens, but the batteries won't make it.

It is very difficult to get hotel reservations during the Renaissance, so try to make them before the 1920's.

Remember, hair dryers don't work before the late 1940's, even if you have an electrical adapter.

If you plan on visiting the stone age, bring only the simplest tools for trade.  And please, no more wheels.

Those traveling to the Jurassic period should not bring any insect repellent, as it attracts raptors.  And unless you plan on feeding the dinosaurs, NO PETS!

Those going back to Biblical times should not expect to find Charlton Heston.

Anyone passing through the 1200's should keep their mouth and nose shut.  It stinks.

For those traveling to the future, we have no advice.  No one has returned.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 



The statement that, the moment the clock strikes midnight in the year 2000 everything would go to hell and life as we know it would cease to exist should have read everything was going to be just fine.


Due to a minor editing error, the blurb in Around Town with PeteTV that said Kevin Spacey was spotted in a gay bar with his trousers around his knees should have read Kevin Spacey was spotted in Graybars buying trousers with his niece.


The claim in What's Ahead that by Spring many pet stores would be selling dogs with human-like faces that could do simple math calculations was a tad premature.  Look for them next Spring.


In the PeteFilms section, the assertion that Battlefield Earth would be bigger than Star Wars should have read Gladiator would be bigger than Amistad.


It is not true that the federal government has ordered New Jersey to stop using New before its name.


Apparently, Tito Puente was not in fact faking his recent illness in a pathetic bid for an outpouring of affection.


The statement in All Aboard the World that Canada was stockpiling nuclear weapons for a surprise attack on the United States was in error.  PeteTV regrets any megadeaths this may have caused.


Finally, the claim that Mel Gibson was seen cheating on his wife having sex with triplets in the rump should have read Mel Gibson was seen treating his wife to Triplesec with Donald Trump.

Still More Weekly Petes