Something was telling me to head to Ljubljana, Slovenia – possibly the 1100 block of Cantos Lane. Call me “the bloodhound”. We jimmied the door and found a swirling dust devil in the living room, a bowl of emeralds in skim milk on the table, and a deck of baboon tarot cards in the toilet. Holy shit! We just missed him. He probably saw us coming looking at his latest tarot reading: juggling baboon, inverted dead baboon, chafed baboon, Vince Carter. Interpol was immediately updated of our status, but they blocked our mobile network and arrested our consigliere standing by our ricksha.

What now? We assembled the team at the nearest kebab booth and ordered the Filet O Fish extra tartar (all around) to clear our colons. Apparently kebab booths have the ability to block and arrest you as well. How dare they assert that the Filet O Fish is NOT an ethnic dish! Our traveling life coach and oracle demanded we hit the blacktop for a pickup game with the LTs. Suffice to say, white men can pump. Got Pumped. Towelling off and sipping Gatorbait (all skins), Sidney Deane suggested we reexamine the third reconciliation of the last of the Meketrex Supplicants. Prognosis positive. It came to me in a flash: wizard, blacktop, flattop, British Knights, Bob Knight, Ted Knight, Cosmic Cow. Do you see the pattern? Yes, you’re right, the world’s last remaining wizard MUST be at the rapping granny’s condo.

Flash forward to a bus tour of Z-List celebrity’s homes. We must have looked deranged as all 11 of us dove out of a high speed bus onto the rapping granny’s lawn. To be this close to the endgame and not have my lucky pack of scribblers (can’t believe we through them out) is a serious bone kill (ah fuck, the scribblers would have fallen off anyway). We surrounded the house like a SWAT team swarming to arrest a bunch of middle-aged perverts outside a famous woman’s home. The SWAT team arrested us and threatened to revoke our “human” status. The point-man kept yelling at me, “how you ballin’?” As they were loading our team into the paddy wagon, I glanced back at the house. There standing next to the rapping granny was… a grand wizard. Was it he? There certainly appeared to be smoke in the room. Wait, I see a Malboro. He certainly was wearing a robe and pointy hat. Squinting: what’s that symbol? Ah shit! The search continues.

*Should read “Automan” Automotive Empire of Nippissing.

The all-time leader in stolen bases, lead-off home runs, runs scored and unintentional walks, he’s an obvious candidate for the hall of fame. He also looks exquisite in an angled high top fade, has a super-human understanding of the financial markets, and if brain capacity is any indicator, it is possible Ricky did more steroids than any living matter can comprehend. In the late 1980′s the Yankees sent Ricky a six figure bonus cheque that after several months an internal audit showed that the checque had not been cashed. When contacted by the organization and asked if there was a problem with the cheque, Ricky replied, “I’m just waiting for the money market rates to go up.”

Famous for talking to himself and referring to himself in the third person (for all 25 years of his career), we also found out that before every game Ricky stood in front of a full length mirror buck-naked repeating “Ricky is the best” for several hours. He once called Kevin Towers, then GM of Padres, and left this message on his voice mail: “Kevin, this is Ricky calling on the behalf of Ricky. Ricky wants to play Ricky-style baseball.” He once asked a teammate how long he thought it would take him to drive to the Dominican Republic. The insanity list goes on and on. Other brilliant quotes include “I am a walking record (vinyl)”, “Ricky doesn’t like it when Ricky can’t find Ricky’s limo”, “Ricky’s got a big ranch. Ricky’s got a big bull. Ricky’s got horses. Ricky’s got chickens and everything — And Ricky’s got a 20 gallon hat.”

I take back everything I previously said about Ricky. Total Genius.

Stay tuned for our Doug Flutie exposé outlining his abuse of HSH (Human Shrinking Hormone).

If a sport consistently proves to be exceedingly lethargic and downright wearisome, how could one not improve it by studying my grandmother’s habits throughout the day? The key to this advancement came at afternoon tea. Look at grandma’s positioning. Upright? No. Horizontal? Not entirely. Reclined? Hell yes. Have you guessed it yet? Yes, the recumbent bike is the only implement capable of taking this sleepy half-sport to the level of giants like cruise ship shuffle board and mah-jongg. If the WNBA has taught us anything, it is that the public wants more sports that demand our total disregard as well as ones that can push our minds into a deep state of theta meditation. Insert recumbent bike.

The current Tour de France covers 3600 kilometres – a meager endeavour for even the most hungover layabout. This tour would be shortened by 4 weeks if the recumbent bike was in effect. Their breakneck speed has been well documented. Hell, I saw my retired neighbour speed by and give me the thumbs up while sipping a Wink®. He was motoring. The usually gruelling stages of the tour could be done three to fifteen at a time. The real beauty of the recumbent bike is its ability to provide forty Winks® while simultaneously powering through the Pyrenees. A mild head-rush was reported last week from one member of our competition squad, but we’re chalking that up to his rest-home duties from earlier that day (styrofoam stacking). You see, this is not just a hypothetical proposal; we are field testing this assertion and the data is powerful. Speaking of power, have you seen the captain of our competition squad bend over to pick up his bowler? Major hip flexion, bulging glutes. Okay, huge ass, but don’t underestimate its relevance for counter-balance on the recumbent bike when connecting to a mobile feeding trough or labile latrine (mobile feeding trough).

Our 38000 page proposal was roundly dismissed initially as a superbly wordy, worthless presentation. They claimed our research was essentially a ten year feeding schedule from the local infirmary. Duh, it was. A very potent, growth promoting, anabolic feeding schedule. Grandma after chamomile tea and a honey scone is a powerhouse of explosiveness and agility. She washed her dish and mug in under 45 minutes and even created the mild lather required to fully emulsify and rinse away any unwanted residue. Robust. Our second request for rumination was somewhat more fruitful as the outlying field office promised (pinky swore) to at least read our précis. Ha. Jokes on them. There is no précis, only hard data. Hard hard data. If our data was any harder, you would need a 2-pronged lifting device (need to invent this) to transport it around the office. It doesn’t help that the appendices where printed on poster sized art board for the visually impaired (our competition squad). Our follow-up phone calls have been well-received at the switchboard. It should only be a matter of time now until our commands are obeyed at all levels of international cycling.

We are confident that by 2011, you may see truly competitive athletes step up to the plate and be sipping the Mello Yello on a chill-axin’ 20 degree angle recumbently pedalling their way to victory with the latest Matlock episode playing on their portable dvd player. Well, If not competitive athletes, then certainly my neighbour. He just whizzed by and burped.

The current rate of grave robbings has increased fivefold since 1998 which was the year they believed we had plateaued with the disappearnce of Liberace’s lace burial cummerbund / girdle and then the total theft of public interest in Liberace. Here we are today – faced with the reality that not only might your entire burial plot go missing, but you may not have even had a Pep Pep! Confused? You shouldn’t be. What this boils down to is: you have lost your marbles skipper. Pep Pep, Nammy Nam, Toadie. These loved ones you won’t shut up about are stupid figments of fancy. Your proof of so-called Birth and Death Certificates are just as easily discredited with my Updated Organ of Maniacs – your name is 8th from the top behind the cast of Flipper.

We urge you to stop utilizing legal resources and mobilizing resistance. Does anybody really care where their loving wife is laid to rest for all eternity? Of course not. Let me ask you this: how are you going to secure the lowest price on adult chafing gels without our help? We’ve got coupons. Much coupons.

For arguments sake, let’s pretend you had a skeleton in your laboratory for medical reference. Now let’s say your meddling offspring shrieks when they come in to have their tattoo removed via the Tron laser. Finally, let’s assume that this shriek is SO loud that old man Whitaker jumps out of his boots and flies out the 10th storey window. Now, your meddling offspring is a 100% murderer. You can’t argue with the facts.

Ah, you are thinking about attending old man Whitaker’s funeral aren’t you? You can’t. There was no old man Whitaker. I just made him up a few sentences ago, so what does that make you? A serious threat. We are not going to rest until you have been institutionalized, perish, are buried, and then a lien put on the funeral parlour, institution, graveyard, and your meddling offspring until they accept our offer of 100,000 FREE coupons promoting dental awareness for the dental community switchboard worker. It sounds specific, but truthfully, it’s not specific enough. Target audience.

As I’m sitting here, I see Robotic RORY roaming around the foyer working on counterfeit passports. “Get in here RORY you idiot!” RORY roams in. RORY is given his first set of binary instructions. I guess we’ll see if we put enough potatoes into that CPU (Central Potato Utilizer). RORY’s instruction set: provide us with a hard copy dot matrix print out of its finest yabber. Beep.

Whoa, looks like the potatoes paid off. RORY’s first official writing assignment is far more prolific than any of us expected. The following is an excerpt from the encyclopaedias he provided – alphabet range ROBOTIC – ROBOTQUIFF.

000 11001 010101010 101 0101 010101 0101010 11111 11001 0100 (ran out of zeros here)

Rory McBain woke up in a flesh heap for the eighteenth time. Feeling worried, Rory McBain whipped a ninja star thinking it would make him feel better (Not!). Decades later, he realized that his beloved bag pipes were missing! Immediately he called his so-called friend Robotic RORY. Robotic RORY was SOOoooo smooth with the ladies he was sometimes a little… rough. Rory called Rory anyway, for the situation was urgently erotic.

Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas for anything, Robotic RORY was interrupted by eleven pestering pocket sized Swiffer Wet Jets that were lured by the siren song of the bag pipes. RORY panicked; ‘not again’, he thought. Feeling concerned, he carefully reached for his potatoes and thoughtfully fondled every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent · the discouraged way-jays began to scurry back toward the haunted thicket, squealing with discontent. He exhaled with relief. That’s when he heard the Bag Bike rolling up. It was Rory McBain.

(found some ones and zeros under the cushion) 000110 010 1010 10101 01010 101 010 1010 101 0111 11 1100 101 00 //END TRANSMISSION//

Holy crap! Great work Robotic RORY! We will continue to use you for ALL our articles/assassinations from here on out. I recommend our readers take a 33rd and 34th pass through that transmission. Sometimes when we listen, the Universe speaks directly to us. Finally, If there is a real “Rory McBain” out there, you appear to be in mortal danger.

Always being on the cutting edge, we here at the moustache press have recently added our own political analyst Mr. Reisch Wholemann who we believe is so brilliantly sane that he brings a complete new meaning to bi-partisanship. To display his knowledge and duplicity we have taken his 10 most brilliant quotes of the past 26 minutes and put them up against what we believe to be the 10 craziest quotes (in no particular order) from other political pundits of late.

10 CRAZIEST QUOTES

1. “I mean, lets face it, we did not have slavery in this country for over a 100 years because it was a bad thing. Quite the opposite: slavery built the south. I’m not saying we should bring it back; I am just saying it had its merits. For one thing the streets were safer after dark.” —Rush Limbaugh

2. “You know who deserves a posthumous Medal of Honour? James Earl Ray. We miss you, James. Godspeed. —Rush Limbaugh

3. “They oughtta change Black History Month to Black Progress Month and start measuring it. —Rush Limbaugh
4. “Exercise freaks … are the ones putting stress on the health care system.” —Rush Limbaugh, June 12, 2009
5. “O-L-I-G-A-R-H-Y.” —Glenn Beck, misspelling “oligarchy” on his chalk board while claiming he had deciphered a secret code that he said was proof Obama was trying to create an “Oligarhy,” Aug. 27, 2009, FOX News Channel’s “Glenn Beck Show”
6. “This president I think has exposed himself over and over again as a guy who has a deep-seated hatred for white people or the white culture….I’m not saying he doesn’t like white people, I’m saying he has a problem. This guy is, I believe, a racist.” —Glenn Beck, on Obama, sparking an advertiser exodus from his FOX News show, July 28, 2009
7. “I mean, we’ve got czars now. Czars like John Holdren, who has proposed forcing abortions and putting sterilants in the drinking water to control population.” —FOX News Channel’s Glenn Beck, taking past writings by Obama’s science and technology advisor, John Holdren, ridiculously out of context, “Glenn Beck Show,” July 22, 2009
8. “Obama’s got a health care logo that’s right out of Adolf Hitler’s playbook … Adolf Hitler, like Barack Obama, also ruled by dictate.” —Rush Limbaugh, Aug. 6, 2009
9. “I’ll tell you what. I’ve been in combat. I’ve seen it, I’ve been close to it… and if my unit is danger, and I’ve got a captured guy, and the guy knows where the enemy is, and I’m looking him in the eye, the guy better tell me. That’s all I’m gonna tell you. The guy better tell me. If it’s life or death, he’s going first.” –Bill O’Reilly on his experience as a journalist covering firefights in South and Central America, Jan. 18, 2005
10. “And guys, if you exploit a girl, it will come back to get you. That’s called ‘karma.’” –Bill O’Reilly in his book, “The O’Reilly Factor For Kids,” 2004

10 REISCH QUOTES

1. “American Health Care Reform? I am from Denmark, I don’t give a f***. Call me when Nancy Pelosi’s face moves.”

2. “I am so tired of hearing about Barack bowling a 129. I bowled a 137 last night after 14 mango daquiris and you don’t hear s**t about that. Get somebody in the research department and find out if anybody in the Special Olympics has ever done that.” –- In reference to Barack Obamas special Olympics quote.

3. “Hitler did use a logo, I don’t think Rush is that far off on this. Yeah I know, he was off on a tangent when he said whatever about how his d***k taste.” — In reference to Rush Limbaugh quote about Obama

4. “What was wrong with that quote about James Earl Ray? Who doesn’t like Darth Vader? I didn’t know he was dead though. Godspeed.” — In reference to Rush Limbaugh quote about Medal of Posthumus
5. “Yeah I ate the last fudgesicle, f***in sue me.” –- In reference to the last fudgesicle in the staff room freezer
6. “Are you saying that if you were Sarah Palin in the middle buttf*** nowhere Alaska you wouldn’t spray coyotes with a an Uzi out of a Helicopter? Come the f*** off it.” –- During a debate with another staffer about Sarah Palin hunting wolves from a helicopter with a rifle
7. “Yeah I saw him throw the s**t fit during the health care reform vote. Yeah, and what is his last a name? Well how would you pronounce it? F*** off, I rest my case.” –- In Reference to Republican house minority leader John Boehner
8. “Iran? Who gives a f***?” –- In reference to Iran
9. “Why is everybody slaggin Mark Sanford? I know he runs of conservative values, so what? So he has a liberal thinking shlong. Have you ever even been to brazil? I would fork any broad who has ever even set foot in that country.” — In reference to Mark Sanford and his mistress in Argentina
10. “I am on break, I am going to get another bottle of scotch. Should I get something to shoot?” — In reference to his 15 minute break

With no syllabus or modules planned, found, or stolen, we decided to teach creative writing the same way we approach creative writing: to not approach creative writing. One of the first rounds of students – we’ll call him “Crazy Eddie” – came up with the idea of generating original story ideas with the least amount of writing. I don’t know what the hell this is called, but it sounded good to me. Below are the best submissions we received from our first intake. We’ve also thrown in one of our own to confuse you. See if you can select the number of our submission. The answer will be provided at the end of this course. Yes, you are currently taking the course as you read this and I’m sorry to say, you’re not doing well.

SUBMISSIONS

1. This story starts in a shadowy empire on a world that has all but forgotten its musical past. In it, a wily talk show host runs into a paladin infected with an alien parasite. What starts as detachment quickly becomes true love (between the parasite and the musical past).
2. A hermaphrodite duct cleaner falls madly in love with an asexual miner – all thanks to a seminar. It seems a sourdough addicted to virtual reality will bring them even closer together.
3. In this story, a smooth nuclear engineer meets a district manager trapped by the past (literally). Curiosity quickly becomes a game of speed pogs.
4. A disloyal mentor is forced to live with a barber who possesses a strong immunity to Krautrock. What starts as hate soon turns into rape/hate – all thanks to someone doing laundry. What role will a zookeeper who was exiled to another dimension play in their relationship?
5. In this story, an intuitive bard hires an acrobatic police chief working in an orbital spaceport. A public boner breaks the camel’s back (cigarette) and then the gloves are off (body condom). Mola Ram is resurrected for anal heart massaging.

Now aren’t those something? Movie producers beware: we’ve date stamped and signed all these ideas with pen (erasable).

So I guess it’s time to assess your proficiency. It has been a long semester for you. What story did we put forward to raise the bar for our lowly students? If you guessed either 1 through 5, you were dead wrong. Haven’t you learned anything?

10. Exposing Myself by Geraldo Rivera

Anyone who remembers the afternoon talk show wars of the 80s waged between Geraldo, Donahue, and Oprah will adore every story about the prostitutes Geraldo married and abused by subjecting them to… Geraldo. It is packed full of sweaty Latin nuggets with his oil essentially oozing off the pages. Spoiler Alert: fake moustache.

9. The Long Hard Road Out of Hell by Marilyn Manson

This was a personal selection for us as we also had a lot of experience with being rejected by hot babes and turning to Satan for the answers on how to proceed. How do you proceed? Get that paper! Damn straight.

8. Nancy Reagan by Kitty Kelley

Try your best to go to sleep after you crack page one. Immediately called my psychic after reading it and she said she knew I was reading. Whoa. Also, any story about Ronnie the rapist puts a new spin on the bag of jelly beans.

7. Iacocca: An Autobiography by Lee Iacocca

Still playing Lemonade Stand on your Commodore? Me too. Read this book and set the price right in the sweet spot and watch the cash pour in. Thank you Lee.

6. The Unabomber Manifesto; Industrial Society and its Future by Unabomber

It’s hard to place the handsome penciled portrait with this document. We’ve all had our worries, but it looks like Unabomber didn’t. Certainly lets you know everything will be alright. Pfeewff.

5. Bryan Adams Everything He Does by Sorelle Saidman

Everything he does is done according to Bryan and I’m talking about Sorelle. Surprising that he let his gimp write a book. Kudos.

4. The Number of the Beast by Robert A. Heinlein

Hey devil worshipper – prepare to have your mind blown: 666 is NOT the number of the beast. According to this book it’s: 10,314,424,798,490,535,546,171,949,056. Served!

3. A Lifetime of Love: Poems on the Passages of Life by Leonard Nimoy

Spock’s poems are like a soothing balm for the trekie’s soul. Rap on brother. The word “love” is written 1535.6 times which amazingly is the star date in episode 44 “The Trouble With Tribbles”. Weeeeeird.

2. What’s Happening to Grandpa? by Maria Shriver

As touched as I was after reading this, I still want to know: what IS happening to grandpa? Horny bugger.

1. The Book of the Law by Aleister Crowley

Anyone who can pen a book in 1 hour a day for 3 days after hitting the lunch buffet and doing so with a man skulking in the corner muttering jibberish is a hell of an author. Also, I think he inspired Ozzy Osbourne – that guy is right freaky. FIN.

Years 1-10:

The crest of the 80′s was an exciting time for the pet owner. Movies and television were featuring BJs on bears, dolphins and angels, Italians with airwolves, and other manimals just cold kicking’ it. We enslaved them all. Obviously, for cost reasons we had to combine sustenance for all manner of beasts. The mash-up was a delectable Oskar® blend of:

• bananas FOR BJs
• fire ants FOR bears
• sardines FOR dolphins
• dolphins FOR angels
• Lou Gossett Junior FOR Italians
• Lou Gossett Senior FOR airwolves
• air biscuits FOR manimals

With the Oskar® fresh out of the box, they blended swimmingly, but good luck finding a fresh Lou Gossett Senior every second week. We over-farmed him – big time. With such a variety of pets, we expected their lifespans to stretch well into our adult lives. It was quite a shock when they all died on the SAME deer hunting trip with my father and grandfather, but I’ll always remember the succulence of that deer’s dorsal fin. To be honest, we couldn’t sort out the rotting carcasses afterward, so we blended them all up to feed to our new pets and buried the blender. Our gracious dead. Notable mention goes out to the fire ant collection. Those were some of the finest auctioneers to graduate from Dust Mite U (Auctioneer Campus).

Years 11-20:

We were prepping for the 90s, and it really showed in our choice of pets (jodhpurs capabilities preferred). We didn’t have as much time to spend with them, what with our fledgling honk addiction, nor did we have as many family members since my sister moved out to work on a Lou Gossett farm and my father and grandfather died on a deer hunting trip (what a delicious smoothy!). Regardless, we still had an eclectic mix of critters. Check this: we had a cat, a dog, some fish, an iguana, a Bo Jackson cartoon, and a parakeet. I know what you’re thinking: I had the very same Bo Jackson cartoon. Oh yeah?! Did yours feed on episodes of Murder She Wrote too? Didn’t think so smart ass. These pets died a little more naturally which was always after being eroticized by Angela Landsbury’s blueberry smocks to the point of deadly over-titillation. As these cuties flopped, my mom and I perfected a mummification technique utilizing chewed saltines. With our love of the piñata, you never knew until the fourth whack if you pulverizing a candy sack or a rotting maggoty cat corpse. Either way, it went well with that tomato soup. Sup?

So anyway, they lived, they died – what of it? I dug up the blender which mom had conveniently repackaged. Score one for team Oskar® and minus one for mom’s time capsule.

The recent feud between Rick Moranis and porn mogul Steed Von Boomquilff has allegedly been resolved. Rick Moranis stated “Legal action was not necessary, I was simply trying to state my point and distance myself from Steed entertainment company”. In what has been referred to as “a desperate attempt at a money grab from a washed up actor” it seems that cooler heads have prevailed. Allegedly, the issue was resolved between Moranis and a More-Anus employee in what can only be described as an in-car-hand-job in the parking lot of a local In and Out Burger.