bizarreville

The Bizarreville Congress just announced passage of a new law that will require all cigarette makers to put photos of dead guys on their packs.  Security was beefed-up during the press conference, expecting angry protests and disorderly behavior from various smoking advocate groups.

Quite the contrary.  Smoking advocates applauded the move, stating that it was the first time in recent memory that the government has done anything to help the ailing cigarette industry.

Turns out, the government will subsidize the artwork development, printing setups, and packaging modifications to adopt the Dead Guy specifications.  Each tobacco company will be able to choose its favored Dead guy art…among hundreds of funny-looking cartoons, caricatures of dead movie stars with superimposed cigarettes, and photos of various disfigured and toothless dead people pretending to be puffing away in the afterlife.

“I think it’s a hoot,” laughed one industry spokesman.  “I think this could be one of the best publicity enhancers we’ve seen in decades.  Did you see the Elvis artwork?  Man…I crack up every time I think about it.”

The industry spokesman was questioned whether he thought that young people would be dissuaded from smoking because of the graphic images of dead smokers.

“Are you s#!**ing me?  Kids are gonna snap these packs up like they were Slurpees at the 7-11.  Probably have that Elvis pack on back order from Day one.  Listen, Elmer, kids know that cigarettes are bad for you.  Duhhhh.  They know that swilling a 12-pack of beer, having pre-marital unprotected sex, driving 50 in a 30 zone, wolfing down triple cheeseburgers with extra-greasy fries are bad for you, too.  Double-duhhhh.  But let me tell you one thing…they’re gonna love these new cigarette packs (ha ha, ha).  What a riot!”

The spokesman was then asked how his company plans to change their production schedule.  “Called the plant this morning, and told them to crank it up 30 percent.  Just hope we can keep up.”

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are, of course, fictional.

Sure, sure, sure, the Economy is in the toilet…high-flowing unemployment, constipated GDP growth, housing taking continuous enemas (Beep, beep), Weiner’s weiner getting headline news (honk).  Jason Shlepberd at Mungtown Associates telling you to bale now and stick it all in gold, ammunition, MR freeze-dried burger meals, and TP futures.  Should you do it…well should you (quack, quack)?

Yes, absolutely…Jason are you listening to me?  Go, go now…before the snow-covered stadium collapses on your hypodermic needle-size noggin (crash).  And while you’re loading up your fallout shelter with sanitary napkins, consider buying this:  Undertakers WorldGroup.  Your buddies at Flunkster Munkster Corp have poo-pooed UWG for the past 8 months, due to their lack of earnings in a business that “the dumbest person in the history of Bizarreville should be able to figure some way to make money, or at least break-friggin-even” (ching, ching).  Hey, friends, I know the CEO, who has shared with me his “Corpse to Life” turnaround plan.  Includes cost containment measures such as more extensive use of recycling.  Pull out your January 2012 calendars, and mark it down:  $51/share, 40% gain from now.  Let’s go to the phones.

Booya, Jim.  Should I sell or hold my Fartgas Partners stock, now that the Chief Financial Officer has admitted to embezzlement, fraud, and inappropriate contact with his male admin?

Sell?  Are you serious?  Sell?  This company is poised for triple digit growth now that the Department of Energy has approved its product for use as a natural gas substitute in Power plants and industrial applications (pfffffttt).  That CFO?  I’ve known he was some kind of pervert for 18 months.  Probably been sniffing too much of their product in the test lab.  They’ll fire him, and hire some non-perv by next Thursday.  Let’s see…FGP was down 6 bucks in yesterday’s trading.  Listen, I’d be loading up on it, wheelbarrows full of Fartgas…maybe hot air balloons full.  Hey…possible product line extension!  You heard it here first, Mr. Fartgas.  I expect some royalty checks…next caller.

What are your thoughts on DTJ, Dialtone Jones…that company that makes those clunky, enormous cell phones that were popular 15 years ago?  Stock is selling for about 13 cents right now.

I’d wait till it goes down to a dime, then buy it like a grammaw at her last garage sale (boingggg).  Those big-ass phones are starting to come back…sorta retro fashion statement.  Saw one guy last week using one that had a rotary dialer on it.  Classic, sheer classic masterpiece (dit, dit, dit, dit, dit).  Listen, when they turn the corner on this retro market, they’ll start making serious money, shaky hand over trembling fist.  All their buildings and equipment are paid for.  They’ve reduced staff down to about 11 fat guys and a truck…at minimum wage and minimum maintenance, respectively.  Nothing but upside, my friend.  If it goes down to a nickel, remortgage your house, and load up on it like a 3rd trip to the carved beef line at the Golden Corral buffet.

That’s all the time we have.  See you next time on Crazy Money.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the business-oriented ones.

After Northern Bizarreville government workers were forced to have to pay 5 bucks a month toward their Health Care costs, a backlash emerged in the Unionistas.  One of their leaders, former Labor secretary Rodberd Reich, was particularly miffed, and called a quick press conference.  Reich, who teaches “Marxism, Communism, and other Liberal Whackisms” at Bizarreville College for the Low SAT Scorers (BCLSS), appeared desheveled as the organizers had forgotten to bring a stool for him to stand on, so he could get his head above the podium.  A heckler in the audience made a slurring remark about shipping all midgets to Funkwater Island, and was quickly whisked away by security guards.  Several other Anti-Midgites who had created a disparaging puppet show in the rear of the audience, were also asked to leave, when laughter began to get disruptive to the business at hand.

“Friends and comrades,” Reich began, “It is time for us to climb out of our Strato-loungers, put the beer back in the fridge, and start organizing again.  This little insulting incident up north is just the tip of the iceberg…that, incidently, is melting fast due to global warming.  It’s 5 bucks now, but soon it will be 6, 7, 8…how high might it go?  10?  11?  It could happen.  And all the work that you have done…your fathers and grandfathers have done…to suck the life out of corporations and big government agencies, will be spinning down the commode and into that billion dollar 8-stage, environmentally-friendly sewage treatment plant that produces water of better quality than Perrier.  Trust me, I’ve drank both.  It’s true.”

“Organize now, before it’s too late.  Next thing you know, they’ll eliminate free parking at employee parking lots, install pay urinals, and replace the Coke products in your vending machines with generic brand colas, taste-free oranges, and Fizzies…”

At this point, one of the legs of his stool broke.  He uttered a few curse words, aimed at tall people in general.  That little rampage seemed to shock audience members, most of whom were non-midgets.  A chorus of boo’s rang out, and a few tomatoes were hurled toward Reich, all missing the Secretary, but one smacking into the podium microphone, causing it to go into a piercing feedback screech.  The infuriorated Reich hustled off stage, flipping the double bird to the now hostile audience.

“You F*#%heads better wise up and get with the bloody f*#%ing program, before it’s too f*#%ing late.  Big Brother has got your number, and is gonna stick it up your tall person a$$#oles,” he shouted while dodging additional tomato mortar-fire.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction.  But you already knew that.

After days and days of dodging questions about whether the famous Twitter photo was a depiction of him, Congressman Anthony Weiner finally issued a firm denial that it was his weiner in the shot.  “Let me just clear the record,” Weiner stated.  “My staff has completed a thorough investigation of this matter, and has proof beyond any shadow of a doubt that the protruding member is not mine, nor anyone in my close circle.”

Weiner refused to go on record with the specific evidence of proof, but inside sources say that the sizing was the critical determinant.  The source said there was a time in his life when he might have been that large, but his liberalness over past decades would have shrunk it by 30 to 40 percent.  Furthermore, his pathetic voting record on tough-minded spending cuts would have essentially drained all the testosterone from his body, which in turn, would have caused another 15 to 18% shrivelling.  Urological experts agree that there is no way such a flaming gutless liberal could generate or maintain that size.

Congressman Weiner continues to bristle at the jokes between the male member and his proud family surname, according to his chief of staff L. Richard Schwantz.  “He has been teased, ridiculed, jabbed, and made fun of since he was 7 years old,” Schwantz stated.  “He has endured the cackles, smirks, and spit-takes everytime his name is announced in public.  For a time in college, he tried to get everyone to pronounce with the German pronunciation “Veener”, but everyone just laughed and said, ‘Okay, Weiner Boy.'”

The congressman is expecting to be the butt of an additional round of Late Night talk show jokes with this new revelation and associated rumor of sizing deficiency.  The Main stream press, however, is expected to continue to go easy on him, since the vast majority of mainstream reporters have suffered from the same embarrassing shrinkage affliction.  Some reporters have allegedly gone as far as employing prosthetics in public appearances to disguise their issue, and are likely to be extremely sympathetic to the congressman in their ongoing coverage, and may even offer some campaigning advice.

In the meantime, the congressman has deep-sixed his Twitter account to prevent any copy-cat weiner shooters from hacking into his account.  He has also changed his Facebook user name from Weiner Face to New York Hosebag, supposedly a throwback to an old family name on his mother’s side.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones you would swear must be real.

More congresspeople on both sides of the aisle are now belatedly recognizing that the Debt can stand no more raising.  This realization has apparently come after these lunks and lunk staffs had been barraged with phone calls from their 4th and 5th grade Math teachers, who scolded them on their failure to understand basic arithmetic…and in particular their seemingly total obliviousness to the chapter on “Subtraction”.  The scoldings have appeared to have hit home, as many voted down the recent attempt to raise the debt ceiling.

Mrs. Marge Flumpzit, who was the elementary school teacher of Harry Reid, was an outspoken member of this band of teachers.  Flumzit, who is now 97 years old, still remembers the precocious Reid who was always throwing spitballs at the girls in class while she was trying to explain how subtraction worked…and how it was quite different from addition.  Flumpzit was able, in those days, to be able to whack Reid with a yardstick or fire a piece of chalk at his ear if he was not paying full attention.  But, she says, it did no good as Reid would resume his spitball fettish moments later.  “The bad thing,” she lamented, “was that I’d have to go clean up those disgusting, slimy balls of snotty goo after class.  Some of them would literally stick to the wall.  Yeah, I don’t think that kid retained one lousy ounce of subtraction knowledge.”

Experts in the field of Mathematics Education have explained that this phenomenon is not that uncommon, particularly among dimwits.  Jonathan Wanker, the Executive Director of the Mathnerd Institute, says that kids with lightly loaded melons often struggle with the difficult concepts of subtraction and division, frequently turning to a variety of distractions, which may include daydreaming, writing little notes to classmates, or wetting their pants, as defensive measures.

The sad thing, Wanker states, is that all too frequently these subtraction-ignoramuses tend to find careers in Politics.  Their lack of fluency with Subtraction can, and has, become a real danger to the unsuspecting public, who often have trouble understanding how a congress person or senator can really be that dumb.  The public just does not realize, according to Wanker, that some people are not wired to process this “higher level” math, no matter how much tutoring or yardstick whacking they receive.

Wanker sas that, eventually, citizens may require that politicians take a simple arithmetic test, including plenty of subtraction problems, before being allowed to register as a candidate.  The test may have subtraction problems that are 5, 6, or maybe even 9 digits long to really test the skill level and competency.  This, he says, may not screen out all the numbskulls, but it could certainly make a dent.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones that sound so real.