If Elected, Newt Gingrich will Eat the Moon

Newt Gingrich, a fan and supporter of both free-market capitalism and space travel, announced last week that if he's elected President of 'Da Fuckin' A, he's going to start a program that will get this country back to the moon.  Because, you know, why the fuck not.  Here's a few of his remarks:

"They have a saying in Texas: 'Sometimes you slap the zebra; sometimes the zebra slaps you.'  Would I lie to you good people?  I'm an honest guy.  An honest fella.  A dapper looking fella.  Now, I swear to you on the turtleneck of Mr. Jesus von Pantaloons that if you elect me Perez Hilton or whatever, my first priority will be to establish a permanent base on the moon.  Because if something is worth doing once, it logically follows that it's worth doing again and again even if there seems to be no goddamn reason why.  A great man once said that he was going to punch his wife so hard she went to the moon.  I think it's sad, and really speaks to a lack of faith on his part, that he was never able to accomplish this.  However, I have heard on one occasion or another that the American peeps want to send me to the moon.  I'm cool with dat.  Because I would personally like to hunt down and kill our zebra overlords, who, of course, live underneath the moon.  Folks, these are trying times.  What we need right now is a Prez that ain't not afraid to be shot to the moon so that he can personally take care of the zebra menace.  Would Commie Obama do that?  Right.  So if I'm elected Prison Addict of the United States of Castration, I'll go to the moon with nothing but my pink space suit, a shovel, and my Spongebob beach pail, and I will dig a hole underneath the moon so big that our zebra overlords will have nowhere to hide.  The American people deserve nothing less.  Or anything more.  Or anything at all, really.  Gingrich out, yo."

In other news, we're all fucked.

This Week In Food

     I think we all know who Paula Deen is. That chubby old Southern lady on that cooking show with the unimaginative Southern foods, the one who is always using greases and lards to deep fry things you didn’t know could be deep fried, the one that measures butter and mayonnaise by the mouthfuls. The one you only watch in hopes that today will be the day she snaps and pan-sears her Mexican gardener and serves him with some Crisco grits and Uncle Bob’s Apple Cake.
     Following her announcement that she has developed type-2 diabetes, she began promoting eating smaller portions, exercising, and Victoza, the drug she’s been taking to help manage her diabetes. In fact, she has been doing a lot of promotion for their product. Her website links directly to http://www.diabetesinanewlight.com/ which clearly shows that she is their new spokesperson.

                                                                       “Smaller portions.”


     Rival Anthony Bourdain tweeted the comment, “Thinking of getting into the leg-breaking business, so I can profitably sell crutches later,” to mock her for the fact that she has been promoting unhealthy foods to give people diabetes for years, and now she’s profiting from the treatment of the illnesses she caused. Rumors circulated that he had called her a diabetic scam artist, but he insisted he never used those words. So we will. Paula Deen is a diabetic scam artist. Funds are being collected to buy Deen’s foot when she has to have one amputated. It will be bronzed and mounted atop a trophy to be presented to Anthony Bourdain after he beats her in a footrace.
     To pour a few heaping tablespoons of salt in the wound, she was seen eating a cheeseburger and fries while on her annual Party-at-Sea cruise aboard a Celebrity Cruise liner, demonstrating that she cannot be the one to help set an example for other diabetics. If the rest of the overweight Southern women in my life are anything to go by, her idea of exercise will consist of buying some $4,500 home gyms which she will get excited over for a full 3 minutes, then will use as expensive masturbation aids until she hangs so many clothes on them that she can no longer find a spot upon which to grind her oily mound. Then it’s back to the kitchen. Diabetes is a death sentence for someone like her and we may be eager to see it punctuated.

     In Burbank, California, police responded to a call at a local McDonald’s. A homeless woman, 31 year old Khadijah Baseer, had been opening the drive-thru customer’s car doors and offering them blow jobs in exchange for Chicken McNuggets. Baseer was arrested, cited with misdemeanor solicitation and released. Speculators have surmised that the phrase “special sauce comes included” needed to be worked into this paragraph.

     It's important for children to learn that too much of a good thing can be bad.  And too much of a bad thing can be disastrous.  A UK girl was rushed to the hospital earlier this week after she collapsed and had trouble breathing. What she confessed astounded medical professionals and everyone else with a pallet. She has eaten almost nothing but chicken nuggets in 15 years, since she was 2 years old. She claims she has never eaten a fruit or vegetable, unless you consider french fries a vegetable. Doctors found swollen veins in her tongue, diagnosed her with anemia and clipped the tail feathers she had begun to sprout. Even after being told by doctors that this diet is killing her she still refuses to eat anything else.  When questioned, her only response was, "BAKAAAW!"



     Republican Senator Ralph Shortey introduced Senate Bill 1418 to the state of Oklahoma on January 19th. The bill states, “No person or entity shall manufacture or knowingly sell food or any other product intended for human consumption which contains aborted human fetuses in the ingredients or which used aborted human fetuses in the research or development of any of the ingredients.” This bill comes in response to a few new products that have hit the shelves but especially to Gerber’s new Healthy Jump Start variety of foods in which ground fetuses and plenty of stem cells are guaranteed in every jar. A Gerber’s spokesperson said in a statement, “Babies need stem cells, they need more of the ingredients that make up their bodies. Our Healthy Jump Start baby foods are the best way for them to get those. Anyone that wouldn’t want that for their kid is not only a bad parent, but I daresay, a communist.” If this bill passes, Gerber, Tyson, SYSCO, Coors, and Bridgestone are all prepared to suspend operations within the state.

Clown Gang Attacks Hippie Village, Survivors Offered Thirty Dollars and a Free Haircut

via goodloe byron

Damn it all.  Will the horror never cease?  It happened again.  Another goddamn clown attack.  Rampaging mad silliness, death and tickling.  That kind of thing.  Dig?

Students from the Baltimore clown college Circus Minimus sharpened their Silly Swords, picked up their Tulip Maces, and put on their Explody Shoes and drove to Stonedfuckedupville, the hippie village just outside the city.  And then...havoc.

The hippies didn't even see the clowns coming.  They were lounging peacefully outside their mud huts, smoking opium and talking to the clouds, hoping that Wookalia, god of the wookies would appear to them.  A hoard of about fifteen absolutely mad clown scholars bum rushed the place. Four hippies were killed before the clowns were driven off by the smell of vegan baking products and patchouli.

The Hippies announced that they will be suing the clown college for "at least a billiony, most trilliony smackaroonies."  The dean of Circus Minimus, Dorky Funnybottom, no doubt inspired by Costa Cruises, offered a quick apology and offered thirty dollars, a free haircut, and a red honking nose to the survivors.

There's been no word on whether the hippies will accept or decline this offer.  The spirit of Tongol Tuna appeared this morning and told them to tear down their mud huts and make their way to Arizona, where they shall sit in a circle and talk about wildlife and sandals for a month.

Further reports to come.  But first, a sandwich and a nap.

Jennifer Annison's Heartbreak...Dumped!

In Touch Weekly reported recently that Jennifer Anniston's Heartbreak had been dumped.  It's true.  The Mugwump Corporation can verify this.  Because we were there.  And knowing is half the battle.  Or beetle. Beetles?  Where?  I hate those little fuckers.

Uh, errr, anyway, yesterday Jen's Heartbreak was dumped into the Pacific Ocean, along with Matt's Kidney Trouble, Phyllis's Glass, and Sigourney's Weavers.

It's not like she was exactly disappointed when three men in Mickey Mouse costumes showed up at her door and demanded custody of the Heartbreak.  Jen's Heartbreak used to come inside after playing in the mud and get his dirty sneakers all over her pretty new couch.  He would walk around her house, burping and farting, calling her names like "clap ass" and "barking breath".  Jen wanted nothing to do with her Heartbreak, and was more than happy to hand him over to the costumed gentlemen.  Her request to "castrate the fucker" wasn't honored.

A short boat ride later and Jen's Heartbreak, dressed in leather straps, mask, and thong, was shot twenty-three times and dumped into the ocean.  We'd like to say that the Heartbreak will be missed.  But we won't. Fuck that guy.  What an asshole.

A Newt Point

    Newt Gingrich's second ex-wife Marianne appeared on ABC's Nightline Thursday evening, giving viewers an earful of what she considered some of his more notable character flaws. Among them is the fact that he asked her for an open marriage while cheating on her with the woman who is current wife. The affair was going on while he was heading a committee to impeach Clinton for his affair with Lewinsky. He finally asked for a divorce two days before giving a speech about family values and the need for God in the lives of American families. That certainly seems hypocritical to us here at Mugwump Corporation. (Not mentioned in the interview is the fact that he left his first wife in 1980, after finding out she had cancer. He had these words to say about her: "She's not young enough or pretty enough to be the wife of the President. And besides, she has cancer." Harsh.)

    Later his daughters appeared and set everyone's minds at ease. They said it had happened so long ago, it was history. Newt has, according to them, gotten right with God. So there is no reason to worry about it. Newt himself, when asked about the issues at a Republican candidential debate, denied the allegations and said that mentioning his ex-wife was "despicable." He even spent more time attacking CNN for allowing that question than he did answering it, surely to show how invalid the point is. I'm sure glad they cleared that up, I was about to change my mind and NOT vote for him.

    All this comes just days after Newt commits a felony and admits he'll break the law again as president. He says that the Supreme Court is fallible and he, as president, will ignore any decision he disagrees with. Being a supposed pro-lifer, Roe v. Wade comes to mind. The felony he committed entailed offering Sarah Palin a presidentially appointed position in his cabinet if she helped him win the South Carolina primary. That directly violates this law. It seems that he could be charged with this, his candidacy could be ruined and he could face up to two years in prison. But what are the odds that he will face justice?

    Very slim. Newt’s ability to evade legal prosecution stems from a deal he made with Satan back in the early 1980s, according to eyewitness reports. As he danced nude in a grove of willow trees under a new moon, he was heard chanting the true name of the dark lord for an hour before being spotted converting a litter of puppies to atheism while slathering himself in lamb’s blood. Each month he must make some sort of offering to the dark lord, lest he lose his powers. These offerings have taken the forms of dotcom stock, crippled children, Haiti, the souls of at least two of his wives, even a live gargoyle. He is not the first presidential candidate to have made a similar deal.

    It’s clear that this sociopathic egomaniac has been using his wives merely as figureheads for the public, someone to draw suspicion away from his life of debauchery and pedophilia. These issues will be addressed in a future article.

The Mugwump Corporation and the Irrationalization Party Urge You to Elect Pussywillow Buglesnout As Your Next Prez

via Goodloe Byron

Although the Republican Presidential candidates have been quite irrational so far, the Mugwump Corporation cannot, in the end, fully endorse any of their candidates with a clear conscience.  It's like they say, right?  You should endorse the candidate that most reflects your values, not the lesser of two evils.  Though, being evil isn't really much of a bother for us.  Gee-whooo.  Anyway, as you've probably figured out by now, the Mugwump Corporation pretty much only has one concern, though it is a big one: the total irrationalization of all things, everywhere.  Full stop, yo.  So we've formed our own party, henceforth known as the Irrationalization Party.  It is to be a third party of the fourth order.  And it is going to run a very special candidate.

Although Pussywillow Buglesnout's parents, Morp and Kkkkkkkkkkkzwzawzowaza Buglesnout are from the planet Asshattia, Buglesnout is in fact an American citizen, having been born in a manger in Bethlehem, Georgia, in 1831.  Currently living in Pimpsniff, Alabama, Pussywillow has graciously accepted the Irrationalization Party nomination for Prez. of the U.S. of (fuckin') A.  ThankyouJesusAmen.  Buglesnout announced his candidacy while standing on an overturned slop bucket behind his old wooden shack.  Though he adamantly refused to take questions from the audience (in this case a horny duck, a three-legged moose, and a frog that lost its soul) he did talk a little about his platform:

"Tits in every motorcycle helmet, a cock in every blue bonnet.  Yes.  Yeah!  This how I runs things.  I am for the molestation of imaginary friends.  I am against the consent of the governed.  I will make abortions illegal, except in cases of immaculate conception.  I will ban pants, except on Sunday, the Lord's Day.  I shall ban genitals on Tuesdays.  I will bugger your parents.  We shall raise Alfred Jarry from the dead for the express purpose of buggering him.  I will tax the dead.  I will ban the news.  Ozzy Osbourne will be my running mate, that is, if we can have him de-sexed and find him a unicorn in time."

The Mugwump Corporation looks forward to this exciting campaign.

You Can Be Liberal All You Want While The Shit Ain't Hittin' The Fan

via goodloe byron

Hello, 'ol PK Laughingas here.  Official Mugwump Corporation Bear Cub Reporter #4504576.09857.  I've been told that I'm a pretty nice guy.

Someone the other day told me there's a pretty good chance everything could go to shit this year.  End of the world, big-time freak shit, ya know?  As most of you know, I'm a pretty liberal kind of guy.  Even batshit communist or socio-anarchist sometimes.  But reality being the bitch she is, in the event that we end up living in some post-apocalyptic Mad Max world on or about January 1st, 2013, I want ya'll to know I'll be prepared.  I'll take all that peace, love, and togetherness nonsense and shove it straight up my candy ass, like the Rock told me to do so many years ago.  I'll be going gonzo savage, and quick.

It'll be, say, January 2nd, 2013, and you'll maybe be hanging around 17. West Mulberry Street in Baltimore, right across from where the library once stood (symbolism!), scratching yer junk and wondering exactly when you'll starve to death.  Lo!  Up the street!  Who could that be, gnawing on a human thigh and holding a bloody spear in his other hand?  That person will be me.  And I'll have a smile on my face, damnit.

A few new age hippie types seem to think that 2012 is actually going to be some sort of mass spiritual awakening.  Good.  Why not?  Could be worse, I suppose.  The love you take being equal to the love you make, and all that nonsense.  But, just in case, I'll be nurturing that little savage inside me; the one who says I should wield my ax now, and ask questions later.

Charlie Sheen Says He's No Longer Crazy, Inhabitants of Moondance V Disagree

According to MSNBC, Charlie Sheen has cured himself of the crazy and is now a fully functional Hollywood adult manchild.  Hmmm, perhaps, but his recent vacation to planet Moondance V might prove otherwise.

Moondance V is, or, rather, was, known as the Flying Saucer Planet because of the Moondancians' all too sincere affection for silly Hollywood science fiction films.  They especially loved Battlefield Earth, starring the Great Travolta.  They would sometimes watch it two or three times a week in their little makeshift movie houses.  They spent so much time watching these movies that they grew quite lazy.  Their beards fused with old popcorn, the first known cases of popcornbeard in the universes.

Alas, they also had terrible eyesight.  When Charlie Sheen arrived, drunk and stoned and raving about how he was going to "fuck every popcornbeard on the planet," the Moondancians gave themselves to him willingly, convinced that he was their long-awaited Lord and Savior, the Great Travolta.

We would like to say goodbye to the Moondancians.  Although they were a smelly race who reproduced with their nasty beards and had tiny beard-babies and...well, shit, never mind. Fuck the Moondancians.  We're glad they're dead.

2012: The Year of Total Irrationalization!

Via Goodloe Byron

Hello, fuckers!  We would have posted this closer to New Year's day, but we're lazy.  And also that would have been unirrational.  And the Mugwump Corporation has been in the irrationality business since 34,544,334 BC.

So, everyone knows this is gonna be one hell of a shit-staining year.  The last year of rationality on the 'ol timeclock.  Texas is gonna rise from its grave.  There will be Yuppie explosions all over Wisconsin.  Jesus will rise from his grave to defeat Jesus von Pantaloons in a bubblegum battle.  Jack Kerouac will be found alive and well inside a lemming.  Tardy Trudy will poke yer eye out.  Barking Bob will develop a sense of humor.  The Kardashians will finally explode their tit-bombs.  Republicans will write romance novels.

Here's to 2012, and the total irrationalization of the human race!