Ronald McDonald overthrows the Burger King in violent coup d’etat

Mayor McCheese appointed interim monarch

Sending shocks and awe through the fast-food industry, America is reeling in the violent overthrow of the former despot, colloquially known as “his majesty”, “my liege”, or “creepy man in a crown from the Burger King commercials”.

Economic and corporate analysts from all corners of America are predicting that the ketchupshed will get far worse before it gets better.

The Capulet/Montague-esque vendetta has been raging for several decades.  The Burger King recently launched a massive smear campaign against McDonald, challenging his self-proclaimed Scottish ancestry, declaring that McDonald was, “nothing more than a poseur who watched Braveheart way too many times.”

When critics pointed out to the king that Braveheart only came out in 1995, the tyrannical madman sent several of his own minions to the gallows as a frightful example, despite there being no actual dissent within his own realm.

The violence culminated on Saturday when, during the annual McDonald’s parade through Dallas Texas, several shots rang out, as a hail of bullets enveloped the McDonald motorcade.  Ronald himself narrowly escaped injury, but his plumpy flunkie Grimace wasn’t so lucky.  “I’m hit, hee hee hee!” said Grimace, matter-of-factly.

It was a sorry stroke of luck for the purple freak as that particular honor alongside the Great McDonald has been typically reserved for Hamburglar, who was back in jail for violating his parole after a grand theft bovine conviction.

While most evidence linking the Burger King to the assassination attempt is circumstantial at best, there is some speculation that it may have in fact been the work of one Lee Harvey Harvey’s, a brutal tyrant of  rival burger chain, Harvey’s.  If he has it his way, The King and McDonald would engage in a perpetual state of beef strife, leaving an immense burger vacuum, paving the way for Harvey’s to take over the world.

More details as they develop.

999 Things that Bother Me: #998

In honour of the glass being in a perpetual state of half-emptiness, it is my pleasure to bring you the latest installment of 999 Things that Bother Me.

#998:  Little old ladies that insist on paying in exact change.

If it wasn’t bad enough that you’re getting gouged $3.89 at Metro for a bag of Baked Lays, insult to injury is both expected and masochistically welcome.

Despite there being eight cash registers, there are only three open, and massive lines at the holy trinity of extortion.

10 minutes have passed, and your $8 tub of Breyer’s vanilla ice cream is beginning to resemble cream of mushroom soup.

You anxiously grab the grocery separator, so as not to incur the expense of the Depends belonging to the lovely lady in front of you.

And then it happens.  Out pops the change purse.

At first glance, it appears as if the senior citizen in front of you is attempting to relay her age to those around her, with each penny representing one year of faithful service on planet Earth.

The copper striking the slippery surface sends sounds of suffering and agony resonating across your tympanic membrane.  And they keep coming.

A collective groan raucously erupts from your debit and cash-paying compatriots.

Perhaps she raided a copper mine, you desperately ponder, hoping to rationalize this fierce violation of your inherent, inalienable human grocery-shopping rights.

Shit, here come the coupons.

$0.10 off prime rib?  Are you for real, lady?

As patience and hair grow thin, you suppress the urge to throw your Visa at the cashier and offer to buy groceries for all within ear-shot.

Buy one tampon, get the second free?  Shouldn’t menopause have kicked in during the Nixon administration?

You vow never again to help another old lady cross the street, regardless of traffic and weather conditions.

And those are some things that bother me.

999 Things that Bother Me: #999

Welcome to the first installment of my brand-spankin’-new column, “Things that Bother Me”.

Some people claim that my propensity to assess truth with reckless abandon can be categorized as “whining” or “complaining”, but I don’t see it that way.

Sure, lots of things bother me, maybe more so than others, but this is your unique opportunity to join the ranks of misery, as its love for company is as old as time itself.

#999:  When you borrow something from someone and it breaks.

Don’t you just hate it when you get pinned for something that totally wasn’t your fault?

Take, for example, your roommate’s can opener.  You may use it perhaps once a week, while she uses it on a semi-daily basis.  However, because God hates you, the next time you use it, it crumbles apart in your hands from rust and decay.

“But it was about to break anyway!” you proclaim, yet already knowing the battle is lost, and a trip to the dollar store is inevitable.

Oh, and guess what?  When that piece of shit dollar store can opener breaks, guess who’s on the hook for another one?  That’s right, you, the occasional tuna eater.

Or maybe you borrow your buddy’s bike for the weekend, set out for the trails, and zip along at high speeds until a very stoppable force (you) hits an immovable object:  you are now one with the tree.

Upon inspecting the wreckage, you discover that not only is your ankle busted, but so are the brakes on your friend’s trusty death trap.
Whoops!  Guess who’s buying a new bike?!  You guessed it.

And then there’s one that really gets my goat, like when you want to go binge drinking and your license has already been suspended three times.  “But I need a way to get to the party!” you shout at your friend, who is already slightly irritated with you for getting his sister pregnant.

But what are friends for?  That’s right, car loans and hot sisters.

Unfortunately, your friend neglected to remind you about the car’s tendency to lock up at random times, even though you are already well aware of the slight design flaw. And then the expected happens, as you become one with a giant oak once more, leaving a trail of elderly entrails in your wake.

“But all eight of them ran in front of me!” you scream at the police officers, taking a swig from your 40 of vodka, gently nursing the protruding femur.   “It’s my friend’s fault, he never should have lent me his car.  He’s the one you want, officers!”

Whoops, guess what?  Not only are you going to have to replace your friend’s 1989 Ford Tempo, but he has the gall to make you pay him back for bail, too.

And those are some things that bother me.

I Hope the Pope Gets AIDS

I’m HIV positive he’s a healthy candidate

Well, it’s Friday night, and in honour of the Sabbath, I shall go on a rant.

While the Pope currently embarks on a “peaceful” mission to the strife-ridden Middle East, I’d like to step back several weeks and discuss some of my previously unaddressed scathing criticisms of religious dogma.

Pope Benedict XVI just can’t seem to pry himself away from controversy, no matter how many asinine-suppression pills he gorfs down at breakfast.

Do you remember when you were a little kid, and your mommy told you explicitly, “don’t take a cookie from the jar!”?

Of course you do.

And what did you do?  You took it.

Of course you did.

People, especially children, take great pleasure in defiance, as it can be very empowering.  How else are you going to know how much your mom loves those crystal figurines until you smash a few and find out?

Enter sex.

Contrary to much religious doctrine, humanity is a hugely sexual species – in fact, that’s how we reproduce.  Sexually.  But don’t try telling that to the United States’ Department of Education.  Instead of embracing the inherent tendency of adolescents to explore their experimental and curious impulses, the official policy, instead, is to not only endorse abstinence, but to preach it virtually exclusively.

That’s right, folks; the vast majority of the effort is placed on demonizing the horizontal polka, rather than telling kids that if they happen to act  human, they should do so safely (i.e. through condoms, spermicide etc.)

And gee golly Kimmy Sue, guess what there then happens? They go and do it anyway.  But since there hasn’t been any relevant education in preventative measures, it seems that “Catholic Schoolgirl” syndrome is on the rise, along with teen pregnancy, and the tent in Jimmy’s pants.

Enter Africa.

Here we have millions of impoverished people desperately seeking to shake loose the shackles of colonialism, overthrow the ruthless dictators left in its place, and find some semblance of progressive humanity that much of the Western world enjoys.

But the problem is that people are dying by the thousands, by a pesky little thing known as the Human Immunodeficiency Virus, and its angry offspring, Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome.

Africans from all walks of life, from the Algerian sub-Saharan, to the rape capital of the world, Johannesburg, South Africa, are dropping like flies because they can’t seem to suppress the continent-wide pandemic.

A big reason?  Christian dogma.

Sure, not all of it is bad, if you filter out all the contradictions, terrible advice, and lunacy…but then I guess you’re not really left with much once you put the red marker down.

But here we have the Pope, the spokesman appointed by God, but elected by men, declaring that abstinence is the true path to Jesus, and giving into our dirty, sinful, disgusting nature will give Jesus a hernia, or worse.

The incessant campaign is ridden with misinformation and disinformation, oftentimes claiming that condoms outright don’t work, or even more ludicrously, that they exacerbate the spread of AIDS.

Yeah, that’s right, they’re telling people that using domes will give them AIDS.

And praise the lord, they’re listening, in droves.

I think the Catholic Church was onto something in 1992 when they made the timely concession that Galileo may have, in actuality, been telling the truth when he asserted the Earth was not the centre of the Universe.

It’s about time society takes off its collective blindfold and kicks its malevolent addiction to faith and scripture.

I mean, most of us know now that it’s not demons that cause infections and disease, but bacteria and viruses.

The Church has done so much rewriting, apologizing, and backpedaling over the last 15 centuries that maybe we should realize that it’s not the word of a god, but the words of men; men whom eventually discovered pasteurization, atomic theory, and genetics.

Men that should endorse the use of condoms, in defiance of ignorance,  because it’s the humane thing to do.

But when was the last time religion advocated humanity?  I think we lost track of things killing each other in the name of our lord.

Peace be upon you.  Shalom Aleichem.  And As-Salamu Alaykum.

Although, I kinda think that those words have lost every last bit of their meaning.

United States of the Milky Way Conquers Mercury

“Gots to keep them pesky Mexicans and Ayrabs out”

In a bold attempt to guarantee border and national security, the United States has successfully conquered the crater-ridden fields of Mercury, the closest planet to the sun, and incidentally, the farthest from Neptune.

The United States has been developing plans for decades to install a missile-defense system on the planet in its attempts to thwart terrorist attacks, both terrestrial and galactic.

Critics of the $4.7 Trillion venture claim that a similar defense shield could have been erected on the moon at half the cost.

Admiral Alan Amadeus counters that due to Florida getting overpopulated, a “crusty old folks’ community colony” could concurrently be installed alongside the the military installation, creating a “similar death-imminent environment available only in the finest retirement establishments that Florida currently has to offer.”

The general also has friends in the US Treasury whom wholeheartedly endorse the impending launch of approximately 40,000 seniors towards the sun at fantastic speeds.  Due to the recession and the mollywhopping the pension fund has taken, placing seniors on the closest planet to the sun will hasten their deaths as a result of Mercury orbiting the sun in 88 days.

Liberal scum have condemned the Mercurial base to be inherently grossly inefficient, due to it taking several hours for rockets from the planet to intercept missiles or immigrants on Earth.  Such condemnation has been labeled by Conservatives as “big-time pussy”, “un-American”, and “lacking vision in the great aspiration for monumental government pork projects”.

The government plans to have the base in space in place in time for the 2012 presidential race.

In other news, the Bank of America has launched its revolutionary “telepathic banking” option, allowing customers to make deposits to their accounts by simply imagining so.  Critics allege that it was the pilot campaign that plunged the world’s economy into a recession due to a select few imagining deposits in excess of France’s gross domestic product.

Details to follow.

Divine Scripture, Divine Comedy

“The god of the desert”

I may not have mentioned or implied it, but I’m an atheist.

Or, perhaps more accurately, as YouTube veteran Pat Condell declared, a “fundamental agnostic”.

I honestly don’t know, and I don’t really care to know.  But I’m not arrogant enough to presume to tell you with utmost certainty that there isn’t.  I have better things to do than to emphasize time and again that the burden of proof is on the believer, not vice versa.

This is where atheists get a bad rap; they proclaim with unfettered confidence that there is no God.  They don’t typically waste their breath detailing the lunacy of worshiping Zeus or Apollo or Ra; rather, it is the “god of the desert”; the Abrahamic god that spawned the three dominant and only monotheistic religions that we know today: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.  This is the god that atheists outright deny, for it seems almost redundant and anachronistic to debate the existence of Zeus, Isis, Thor, or Apollo.

Try not to breathe, god my disapprove

The thing is, I don’t feel it’s productive to argue with creationists, orthodox Jews, or fundamentalist Muslims about the existence of god, or what typically reverts to a debate of cosmology/evolution versus creation.  If someone holds a conviction so strong and dear that they look forward to the next life more than their next day, you’re not going to dissuade them through intellectual and logical debate.

And don’t bother mentioning that the first Christian gospels detailing the life of Jesus weren’t written until decades after Christ’s supposed jaunt across the pond, alcoholic alchemy, or resurrection and ascension.  In fact, the only complete forms of the gospels can be dated back, at most, to the 4th century C.E.

And you’d be wasting your breath reminding them that if a man was in fact setting off magnificent fireworks displays of miracles, bringing people back from the dead and curing cancer, someone would have noticed.

But that’s the thing.  No one did.

Not one solitary contemporary scholar in the entire region, from Athens to Rome to Jerusalem and back, ever even heard of the guy.

Well, that’s not entirely true.  They may not have heard about Jesus the man, but they’d heard the story before.

Numerous pagan religions had told a virtually identical tall tale:  a miraculous virgin birth.  It is worth noting that the following pagan gods arrived via virgin stork:  Mithras, Isis, Romulus, Perseus, Danae, Melanippe, and Auge, to name a few.  But it didn’t stop there.  Some of the aforementioned characters also performed miracles.  And walked on water.  And turned water into wine.  And died.  And were resurrected.  And ascended into heaven.

But I digress from my main point.

Genesis states that man was created in god’s image.  The absolute miracle of the human body, in all its perfection, magnificently and intelligently designed by an omnipotent creator.

This is what fundamentalists ram down my throat.  How grateful I should be for being granted the grande honour of occupying this corporeal creation.  But this is where scriptural dogma turns into shameless apologism.

“What about all the evil in the world?” you may ponder.

“What about all the death, destruction, and mayhem?”

“What about the earthquakes, the floods, and the typhoons?”

“What about the murder, the carnage, the genocide?”

Well, they just happen to have an all-encompassing non-answer for you:  “It’s all part of God’s plan,” or my personal favourite, “God works in mysterious ways.”

It’s funny, but for such a perfect manifestation of himself, god has done a pretty shitty job getting the damn gears to stop jamming.  But it’s all a mystery, right?

I don’t think it was too mysterious for my father as the cancer slowly ate him up from the inside, over the course of four torturous years.  I think it was pretty obvious.

I don’t think it was a mystery to him as multitudes of malignant masterpieces were excised from his body, whether through the blessed scalpel or miraculous chemical stew pumped through his veins.

I don’t think it was a mystery to him as he hugged his three year-old daughter for the last time.  There was nothing enigmatic or magnificent or divinely beautiful about that.

“But you can’t have good without evil, light without dark, pleasure without suffering,” they emptily repeat ad nauseam, ad infinitum, ad self-flagellatum.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Don’t go on to tell me how perfect and wonderful we are as god’s creations, yet run for the hills when someone calls bullshit.

I don’t need to suspend disbelief to realize that the god you claim to be your creator, your lord, your saviour, simply does not exist in the conniving,  convoluted and contradictory sense that you simultaneously accept and reject, quote-mining the bible for convenient truths yet ignoring the xenophobia, racism, matricide, patricide, fratricide, homicide, genocide and miscelaneous crimes against humanity – all, mind you, in the name of your almighty.

In conclusion, if you wish to subject yourself to a magazine which has no opt-out period and an automatic subscription renewal upon your mortal expiration, by all means, that is your prerogative.  But please keep your ideas to yourself, out of our schools, out of our politics, and out of our secular society.

I don’t need a vengeful, jealous, arrogant, spiteful, murderous god to tell me where to get my morals from.

Because the “god of the desert” has no place in modern times.  He’s too busy lamenting having not finished off all the Philistine women and children in cities that doubted his legitimacy, thousands of years ago.

Extreme Fitness, Extreme Inquisition

Extreme Dishonesty, Extreme Pressure, Extreme Presumptions

So after wallowing in my post-injury misery for a few years now (I injured my back lifting weights at the gym), I’ve finally gotten back on track with healthy eating, and now plan on joining a gym in the near future.

While I already had the local community centre in mind, I was still somewhat enticed by a flyer that I received in the mail the other day from Extreme Fitness:  “$8 pay-as-you-go.  No fees.  No excuses.”  Well excuse me, but I’m still going to have to take a gander at the fine-print.  “* “Pay As You Go – $8 Per Month Membership” based on two month prepaid membership. “Pay As You Go” month to month membership available after the initial two months.“

Hmm, ok.  I don’t know about you, but that seems pretty vague.

But before I called over to my local Extreme Fitness, I did a quick google search, the paramaters similar to any that I input before making any purchase, online or in person.  The variable this time was “Extreme Fitness”, the constant, “Scam”.  (I’ve managed to avoid purchases on a couple shady websites by following this self-approved axiom.)

Low and behold, a plethora of hits populate my screen.  Angry, vengeful hits.

I opened about seven in new tabs, and was shocked at the consistency of horrible reviews of the fitness enterprise.

Extremely poor service.  Double billing.  Non-honouring of alleged “freeze periods”.  Billing beyond the length of the contract.  Etc.

I also found out from anecdotal testimony that there is a clause in the contract – that you are insisted upon signing – that states “this contract overrides any other contract”.  In simple terms, that means that anything you are told by a saleseperson is null and void.  They can promise you the world (or a more isolated trip to Jamaica in this case), but it won’t hold up.

People have gone to hell and back trying to get double-billings reversed, extra fees refunded, or in many cases, contracts cancelled after actually fathoming the magnitude of the fine-print.  You can read some of the first-hand accounts here:  http://www.myfit.ca/gym_ratings/services_available.asp?edit=yes&id=76

Now I’m a very empathetic person; I’ve been screwed before.  Further, sympathy is no foreign concept to me; I don’t like seeing people screwed.  But kind words aside, if you don’t read the contract you’re signing, it’s your own damn fault.  Sorry.

But apparently some people even had their contracts modified post-facto, with dates altered and clauses added-in.

Scam?  Sham?  Paper-jam?

Now, I like to fancy myself a journalist of sorts, so I could not merely rest on the literally hundreds of first-hand accounts.  I can’t just put my faith in all those people blindly.  I had to find out for myself.

So I called up to find out more.  I was forwarded to a gentleman named Greg who began explaining the promotion to me, for the most part reiterating the vagueness of the flyer I had already scrutinized.

“So what happens after those two pre-paid months?” I inquired.

“Well, then you’d be signing a contract for one of our packages.”

“And what are the prices for those contracts?”

“They vary from $49/mth to $99/mth.”

After this, I was ready to just thank him for his time and hang up.  But of course their training is intense and instilled, and before I knew it, I had an appointment booked for 12:00 PM the following day.  Part of me was upset for committing to something that I had every intention of canceling, but then my inherent Curious George wanted to actually go in there and see what they could throw at me.

So, there I was, stepping into the beautiful lobby of Extreme Fitness, waterfall and all, clad in my pajama bottoms, unshaven, messy hair, and 2% milk in-hand.  My goal was to look as pathetic as possible.  Strangely, it wasn’t much of a stretch.

“Sorry, Greg won’t be available to see you.  But Jason will be out in a few minutes.”

Cold feet, Greg?

So I sat patiently for seven or eight minutes (mind you I was already deliberately 10 minutes late to the appointment), and out walked a tall, buff fellow, named Jason.

“Nice to meet you Jason!”

He proceeded to show me the facilities, which, admittedly, were quite nice.  It wasn’t too crowded, the machines were well-maintained or otherwise new-ish, and the sweet smell of their saltwater pool sent my olfactory bulbs into a rave-like dance.

We then went back to “the office”, a shared room of about 10 staff, to discuss my, “Fitness and weight loss goals”.

He asked me a bunch of mundane questions about where I worked, how much weight I wanted to lose, the timeframe I wanted to accomplish it in, my eating habits, motivation for weight loss, place of residence, and means to travel to the gym.  I later found out that they would use each and every one of these factoids as artillery in their relentless assault on my character, self-esteem, and “seriousness to committment”.

After going over the multitude of features and benefits of the sprawling establishment, it became time to discuss what package I’d be interested in getting.  I immediately cited my conversation with Greg, in which he told me that after my two months, I would have the option of signing a contract under one of their plans, the cheapest of which appealed to me most, considering $50/mth was already on the high end of my budgetary constraints.

Better get your shoes shined up, ’cause it’s bait and switch time!

“Greg told you that?  That doesn’t sound right. Let me go talk to my manager.”

Here we go.

An even more delightful fellow came over and introduced himself as Alan, the manager.

I recounted once again what Greg had informed me over the phone, being polite and calling it a “miscommunication”, knowing full well what he said to me.  Alan was insistent that it was a “misunderstanding”, implying it was my fault for not inferring the facts correctly.

He asked me about my diet, and immediately bashed my high-protein, low fat regimen as “dangerous” and “ill-informed”, citing that losing 50 lbs in six months was unreasonable.  I was far too polite to tell him that it was this very routine and food selection that allowed me to lose 80 lbs several years ago, a weight and lean body structure that I was able to maintain flawlessly until I injured my back.

He then began scribbling some figures on my sheet, trying to find a plan that “was better suited” for me.  We danced around the figure of $50/mth, but I was very clear that the ad neither mentioned the requirement , nor did I have any intention to, sign a contract.

This must have been perceived as a personal affront, or what he not so euphemistically labeled as “excuses” and “procrastination”.

“You say that you’ve been wanting to get into shape for close to a year now.  Why not today?  What’s holding you back?”

But thankfully for them, I had already volunteered all the ammunition necessary in their objection-overcoming campaign.

And then the guilt trip started.

“You live close by, check.  It’s within your budget, check.  You like the gym, check.  So why won’t you commit, Mark?”

I chose my words very carefully, as not to come right out and label their (blatantly obvious) high-pressure, bait and switch tactics.

“I simply do not wish to sign a contract.  I’ve been screwed before, and I have no intention of it happening again.”

“With another gym?” he pried.

“Yes.”

“Which one was it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I didn’t, because I was simply replacing my alleged personal account with testimonies of others.

“One in Richmond Hill.  It went under.  I was also double-charged,” a jab at what I knew Extreme Fitness systematically perpetrated.

“I see.  Well, what is it that bothers you then?  The pre-authorized payments?  Giving your credit card?”

“Absolutely,” I replied with conviction.

“Well, how about post-dated blank cheques, would that be more suitable?”

This caught me off guard, as this was not even a consideration.

Meekly, I responded, “I suppose that could work.”

Obviously I had no intention of doing this, but then I realized that the same information that they would use to set up a pre-authorized payment to my bank account was the same found at the bottom of any cheque, regardless if it being void or not.

I then decided to turn the tables, and began asking him the questions.

“Have you ever bought a car, Alan?”

“Of course, I bought one recently.”

“So do you go into the first dealership you see, and buy the first steering wheel you lay your hands on?”

He paused, so I took the opportunity to answer.

“Of course you don’t.  You shop around.”

I mentioned the prospect of my local community centre, which he immediately dismissed, claiming high (and grossly innacurate) membership fees and their alleged (and perhaps true) inferiority.

“I don’t mean to be bashing another gym (which is exactly what he proceeded to do), but they don’t have the same equipment as us, offer fewer classes,” etc. etc. ad nauseam.

I looked at my watch and noticed that about 45 minutes had gone by, and I had wasted enough of both of our busy schedules (I had to rush home to write this article).

“It seems we’ve reached an impasse.  I simply do not wish to sign a contract, nor was I informed this would be necessary to take advantage of the promotion.”

He tried a couple more times, but eventually realized I wasn’t going to budge, and an armistice was reached.

“I’m going to decide within the next week.  If I choose Extreme, then I’ll be seeing you again.  Thank you for your time.”

I got up and left as quickly as I could, knowing full-well that I had likely done what no man had done before: I escaped the Extreme Inquisition without signing one of their shady contracts.

So, my advice: if you’re looking for a gym, look online first and read testimonials from prospective and former members, as they speak volumes.

If you’re really careful about the tenets of the contract, and the facilities at Extreme Fitness appeal to you, then by all means, go right ahead.

Don’t say you haven’t been warned, though, about their pressure and scare tactics, notorious dishonest billing procedures, and the good ol’ bait and switch.

I think I’ll stick with the community centre at $20/mth without a contract or pre-authorized payments.

But to each his own victimization.

New Research Shows Superstitions and Eccentricities Firmly Rooted in Science

Glasgow, Scotland

Exciting new research released today brings hope to millions around the world who previously viewed their lives as irrevocably damaged and irreparable through years of toil and suffering.  The power of positive thinking is back with a vengeance, and it’s going to make sure you get yours.

In various controlled studies across the British Isles, leading scientist Dr. Haggis McDonald engaged test subjects in varying degrees of superstitious activities.  The findings were profound.

The first test involved several subjects being placed at traffic lights with a red walk signal and were told to act in the best interest of saving time.  The people were convinced that by repeatedly jamming the button to activate the walk signal, the lights would change faster; surprisingly, they did!  With the lights changing in a matter of minutes, the subjects danced through the intersection with glee.  Tragically, four subjects were struck by a bus.  Two others complained that the “little white man” should reflect multiculturalism and perhaps be brown.

The second experiment was similar in nature, and pitted subjects in the lobby of high-rise apartment complexes that gained city-wide notoriety for their excessively slow elevator service.  The subjects were given similar instructions as the street test, and proceeded to excessively press the “up” button for the elevator.  Defying logic and physics, the result was astounding:  on average, the elevator arrived eight seconds faster!

The third experiment followed two subjects to family members’ birthday parties over one year ago.  The subjects were instructed to ensure that they informed the birthdayees to “make a wish!” and not to “tell anyone!”  When asked later what the people wished for, both said “good health for my family and friends”.  The results proved that birthday wishes do in fact come true, as no family members or friends died or contracted life-threatening illnesses in the following 365 days.

The fourth experiment was conducted alongside the first one, involving those who used public transit.  Test subjects were deliberately prevented from leaving their respective homes on schedule, resulting in a mad rush to the bus stop.  Invariably, each and every time, the bus was pulling away from the stop upon their encroachment of the sacred bus shelter.  The subjects chased after the bus, screaming, frantically waving their hands, demanding “stop this instant! I command you to halt!”  While it was impossible for the driver to either see or hear these desperate people, the bus stopped, and sometimes even reversed, to allow for them to board.  Flawless execution.

Dr. McDonald claims that despite there being no logical explanation for these direct correlations, the fact that people so strongly believe that knocking on wood or crossing themselves will cause good things to happen, allows for unique anomalies defying physics and thermodynamics.

A new study will begin next month on the effects of flicking the top of pop cans that have been shaken excessively.

“The Old Testament: The Fantastic Movie Adventure” Rejected By Ratings Board

Scenes of  matricide, patricide, fratricide and genocide deemed “too risque for mainstream”

The epic film project, dubbed “Episode 673: Jehovah Strikes Back”, has experienced intermittent production delays for nearly 4 millenia.  Filmmakers Michael Bay, Jerry Bruckheimer, and their private production studio submitted the 47-hour first-cut to the national ratings board, only to have it unilaterally rejected.  The board would not give it a pass without affixing the notorious NC-17 classification.

“What we really wanted to capture here was the essence of the Old Testament, in a truly authentic multi-period piece,” explained Michael Bay, as he proudly displayed the storyboards for the 3-hour Noah’s Ark segment.  “Do you see all that water?  That’s God’s wrath, you know.”

Bay and Bruckheimer, enthusiasts for film accuracy, character development, and chase scenes that reside exclusively within the realm of reason and logic, continue to fight the board on its ruling.

“Those bastards at the ratings board think that the spontaneous combustions and the massive explosions during the Exodus from Egypt are far too graphic,” Bruckheimer explained.  “They also claim that the explicit sex scenes involving Moses and 117 virgins on Mount Sanai are not only excessive, but not even in the bible!  Now, sorry, but as a filmmaker, I take certain liberties, and it’s pretty obvious from my extensive research that after Moses hit 100, he started pimping mad bitches.”

Much controversy resides in the brutal violence, xenophobia, racism, genocide and allegorical implications (such as talking snakes, 700 year-old men, and 40-day floods) that are depicted in the film.  Never before in history have such extreme depictions been allowed to enter the mainstream, save for the bible itself.

There have been numerous protests by church officials and irate parents, claiming the movie to be excessive, despite children being indoctrinated with these stories, beliefs, and customs as early as the age of 10 days.

“We’ll continue to fight the board,” proclaimed Bruckheimer as he made over-arching gestures with the Moses’ staff prop.  “If Moses could part the sea and get everyone to follow along, then surely we can make this thing happen.”

The film is scheduled for a 2014 release with Adam and Eve bobbleheads for every ticket purchase – fig leaf optional.

Cancer leading cat killer, curiousity vindicated

A groundbreaking study by Australian scientists has shown that what was once thought to be the number one cause of death for cats is simply an urban legend.

The study followed the lives of 17 suburban and 12 city cats over the course of six months, and the results were astonishing.

Despite curiosity being prevalent in 100% of the test sample, none of the cats suffered fatalities as a result of chasing birds into the street, jumping from fifth-story ledges, or engaging in mortal combat with canines six to nine times their size.

Dr. Horsham Bigowski, pioneer of the incredible study, explained how the cats’ fatality rate was relegated to viruses and diseases such as feline herpes and cancer of the paw.

“We found that cats are very resilient, and even when run over by cars or assaulted by flocks of ravenous sea gulls, they typically only succumb to viral or bacterial infections, rarely due to their lack of inhibition.”

Dr. Bigowski recalled a previous study in which the only animal found fallible to curiosity was an adventurous monkey named George.