Ever since David Cross moved to Tompkins Square Park he has been walking around with tons of disgusting dogs on ropes and a big filthy knapsack filled with squatter crap and his skin is all brown and he has facial tattoos and pretends not to be a junkie that got fucked by his dad just like all the other crusties there. But something extraordinary has happened. Instead of them rejecting this rich Jew pretending to be a homeless punk, they have taken him under their piss-stained wing and begun touting him as a local hero.
One of the biggest problems in the gay community (besides the Silent but Deadly “killer of millions”) is their lack of vitamin C. In short, they refuse to take it into their bodies. In Latin America, however, authorities in the health departments have devised a way of tricking los homos with a penis-shaped powder. It can be mixed into a gay’s cosmo or you can lay him on his back, stick his legs in the air, and slowly insert the package into his lubricated bottom.
BITE ME BISCUITS
Once reserved for 17th-century British prostitutes, “Bite me biscuits” has become a lot more than the “Kiss my grits” of Merry Olde England. Now it’s a cylindrical package that farts when you put it in the bathroom (just kidding, it cries).
When Skrewdriver put out the hit single “Shove the Dove,” with the chorus “You can talk about a thing called love, / While the bombs rain down from above, / You can talk about a thing called love, / And you can shove that fucking dove up your arse,” a lot of hippies felt the need to fight back. Of course, hippies are wimps, so the best they could do was some “empowering toilet paper” that let them pretend it was their idea in the first place.
NOD NOD COSMETICS
Unlike crackheads, junkies have amazing skin. Some say it’s because they don’t obsessively pick their scabs like crackheads do. Others think it’s the way heroin pickles your body and prevents you from aging (until you quit and all those years come crashing back in ten days of superaging). Few know that heroin skin is really all about an affordable brand of cotton balls that all junkies use as they drift away to drowsersville.
Why is this industrial cleaning sponge called German War Cube? Are they trying to absolve themselves from blame and call WWII Germany’s war? OK, then why is it a powerful white square guy? Oh yeah, I remember now. Everyone in Asia is nuts.
Why did somebody send us this? Are we supposed to make a gay joke about fruits? It’s a fucking fruit drink, you loser. Way to waste your postage and handling.
Sorry Japan, but men reek. Didn’t we already talk about how when you go into the bathroom after your dad it smells like toothpaste and shit, and when his friend passes out on your couch it has that weird dick-and-cigarettes smell for weeks? Honestly, how can moms fuck dads?
The Chinese say that they eat so much gross shit because we ruined their empire by getting them all addicted to opium. OK, that wasn’t exactly gentlemanly of us, but that was like 10,000 years ago. Why are you eating lice off an animal’s head that doesn’t even have hair in the year 2006?
We got this delicious treat in Venezuela. Here’s a question: How in the fuck did NOBODY at the company, not the workers in the factory, not the guy who designed the box, no customer—ever—how did nobody tell them that shit means poo-poo? I mean, Barfy Burgers were pretty bad, but this company ought to change their name to None of Us Has Ever Met Anyone That Speaks English—Ever.
Why didn’t anyone invent this before? The Superplug was made by some MIT nerds last October and all it does is convert the power of your cigarette lighter into whatever appliance you want. That means you can go on a road trip and set up your computer, your speakers, a microwave oven, and a TV and satellite dish, or just recharge your phone. “Now that a lot more people are living out of their cars,” quips Gary Safin, one of the Superplug’s creators, “Our orders are going through the roof.”