“MOUNT RIVER, OR – Three hikers that were alleged to have been stranded on Oregon’s tallest mountain, Mount Hood, have been located working at Santa’ Sweatshop at the North Pole.

Pacific Northwest Correspondent W.E.B. Dubois cracked the story earlier tonight as he was investigating allegations of a child pornography ring centered at the Pole.

In my attempts to get to the bottom of this vile story of underage lust and debauchery, a much more interesting, nay, important tale of greed, racism, and hellish slave conditions that affect every man to his core reared its disgusting head.

It appears that Kris Kringle, Saint Nick, Santa Claus, Father Christmas, Jesus’ Excuse – whatever it is he is calling himself these days – is running the most despicable slave labor ring I have seen since George Washington’s forced-labor marijuana encampments.

Last night, as I was doing surveillance outside one of the seedier sex dens in Santa’s Kitchen, I saw light from yonder window break. I could see three grown men beckoning to me for help.

They introduced themselves as Jerry Cooke, Kelly James, and Brian Hall.

I immediately recognized their names as porn stars from an awesome S & M video from Amsterdam entitled Tie My Dick in a Knot, You Fat Whore, but they were quick to correct me.

They were actually only in Tie My Dick in a Knot, You Fat Whore 2: The Taste of Ass.

Apparently, they were hikers filming a new gay porno, tentatively called Gay Cowboys in Bondage: High Altitude Cum Shot Olympics 27, when a fat man in a red suit and hat corralled them and kidnapped them to work in a slave hovel at the North Pole.

I attempted to alert the White House of Santa’s slave factory and schedule a rescue of the men, but my T-Mobile Razr cell phone could not get service.

I only hope this does not reach you too late. I am cold and hungry, and I haven’t banged a white chick in at least a week.

WEBD

LushForLife immediately forwarded the preceding transcript to Henry Kissinger, and a carpet-bombing of the North Pole is scheduled for next Monday, the day Jesus was born.

“

“TOKYO – With the arrival of the 2006 holiday season, digital imaging manufacturers are joining together to make sure their customers are able to capture all of their memories without issue.

In a recent announcement made by Sony, a secret team of highly-skilled Japanese technicians displayed their poor communication skills while delivering the announcement of the new “”super pixel”" that will be used in all digital cameras sold this holiday season and in the future. The newly designed pixel is sure to be a significant upgrade to the former mega pixel, according to Sony technician Yurigawa Kurasakanuraura.

“”Mega pixels have been highly overrated in the past,”" Kurasakanuraura said to Lush For Life correspondent Porcious Crank. “”Those pixels had unstable demeanors, were slow-performing, and unreliable. How can you seriously trust your digitally-encoded memories to a pixel that suffers from overwhelming anxiety, not to mention a nasty bipolar disorder?”" Kurasakanuraura asked.

The new super pixel will boast much high performance ratings for consumers who focus on capturing “”regular pictures,”" according to a Sony press release. Though most professionals currently using cameras that operate on old pixels may not notice a difference with the new super variety, consumer level novices will see a significant change.

“”Super pixels are simply faster at what they do,”" Fujifilm representative James McEwen said. “”Most people aren’t aware of all the struggles and wear and tear pixels have to go through to capture their pictures.

“”Let’s say you’re in Prague with your family and want to take a photo,”" McEwen explained, “”When you take that picture, a bunch of pixels have to run together all at once while they hold each other’s hands tightly with their eyes closed. Sometimes it takes awhile for those little bastards to hurry up and get there in time,”" McEwen stated. ‘We noticed that the strain of having to run all over the world – following families on their vacations – was becoming too much for mega pixels to handle. The super pixel is so much faster and more reliable.’

Sony technicians concurred with McEwen, explaining that they witnessed several mega pixels lagging behind in a laboratory-conducted simulation of the type of ‘regular pictures’ that occur while consumers are vacationing. The most common failure was seeing old pixels – which appeared to have developed a combination of some digital mutation of arthritis and osteoporosis – dragging behind other healthy pixels with a noticeable limp. According to Kurasakanurura, if all pixels are not present, then the photograph cannot be captured.

’This is why you experience that delay when you press the button,’ Kurasakanuraura said. ‘When all pixels develop this disease, then more often than not the camera dies.’

Developing digitally mutated muscle and bone disorders has not been the only malfunction of mega pixels. After receiving multiple customer complaints from vacationers traveling through Europe, Sony technicians constructed a simulated environment in their laboratory resembling a German pub. Technicians witnessed several pixels sitting around drinking alcohol and chasing skirts while they were supposed to be assembling together for family photographs.

’Mega pixels have become not only injured in their old age, they’ve also become lazy and apathetic,’ McEwen said.

’I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to capture a picture of a pet animal dressed in a Santa hat,’ one mega pixel said on the condition of anonymity to Lush For Life correspondent Arthur Rocks. ‘And if I have to do all this goddamn hard work for another friggin’ sunset picture I’m going to kill someone,’ the pixel said, and abruptly had to leave after being summoned for a picture taking session of a Mexican wearing a hardhat on a roof with his lawnmower and his sixteen coworkers.

According to Fujifilm, all new super pixels will boast a superhero costume when they arrive on the scene to capture various digital photographs, according to Kurasakanuraura. They have been genetically enhanced to avoid mood swings, attitude problems, and drinking disorders. Both Sony and Fujifilm representatives assure that all cameras sold during this holiday season will contain super pixels with Santa hats and a sleigh of reindeer to assure they arrive on time to capture all of those rosy Christmas memories.

“

“Ahhh Christmas… [cough]… Ahhh the holidays. A time for joy, giving, and over the top political correctness. Filled with cheap, tacky lights, obnoxious Wal-Mart decorations, and those awkward moments in the office after you’ve wished someone a “”merry Christmas”" and then forgotten that they’re not one of the homogenized, beautiful, factory-processed Christians that make up a large number of our outstanding US population. The war on Christmas is simply out of control. Just yesterday in Oklahoma, a practicing Zen Buddhist strangled an over-weight and middle-aged, but well-intentioned office manager for being the fourteenth person that day to wish them a happy Christmas. How do you, as an upstanding member of the ideological clichÈ that is going to heaven, deal with these pagans? Well, here are some tips and ideas of making it through the continual desecration of our most holy of holidays:

First off, check the color of their skin. If they’re not white, there’s a good chance they lead a sinful existence. This is not definite, however. The tone of their skin is important, too. Lighter browns accompanied by a strange accent almost certainly clinch their burning in hellfire for all eternity, but a darker skin and a southern accent probably mean they just go to the wrong church.

Next, find out if the person to whom you are speaking is a pagan. Ask them politely if they have accepted Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Saviour. If they look uncomfortable, tell them you were only joking, but put a King James Bible in their desk drawer after they’ve left for the day to continue on with their evil lives.

Then bring up the issue of the war in Iraq. If they give you some pansy answer about how war is “”never the answer”", it guarantees they are lying, as they are certainly behind the war on Christmas. If they suggest the best exit strategy is to nuke the towel-heads back into the dark ages, get them a nice WWJD bracelet in silver for Secret Santa.

Finally, ask them what they did “”this time last year”", or what they “”normally do for vacation”". These Godless, secular questions won’t get you into trouble, but the answers should be telling. If their destinations have been anywhere other than in the continental United States, they’re a heretical, flagrant-anti-America who wants us to lose the War Against Terrorism, rapes babies, and eats at “”ethnic”" restaurants. Immediately witness to them and give them one of those little plastic-wrapped brochures about loving God that you carry around in your pocket at all times.

Following these strategies will, without fail, lead others around to a better life. So stock up on those little crucifixes you have from years of donations to CTN, those little, brightly colored WWJD bracelets, and those free, green pocket bibles they hand out at revivals and you’ll be all set and not a penny out of pocket (those tithes are coming up soon).

So from all of use here at Lush For Life, good luck and have a Blessed, Jesus-filled Holy Season, and a happy God-gifted New Year.

“

“HYANNIS PORT, MA – Christmas has come under fire from all sides again this season as Green Party faggots try their best to hide Christmas trees in the closet, wedged tightly between the Ten Commandments and their sexuality.

However, the assault has proven multi-tiered this year, as some traditionally Jesus-hating, limp-wristed liberals are pretending to join in the fight for the holiest of holy days.

Liberal hippie robot Al Gore jumped into Santa’s corporate sleigh Tuesday pointing to global warming as the most imminent danger to the world’s best and most favorite holiday ever.

“”By burning fossil fuels such as coal, gas, and oil, and clearing forests, we have dramatically increased the amount of carbon dioxide in the Earth’s atmosphere and temperatures are rising,”" he said, with absolutely no identifiable vocal inflection. “”This results in not only grey snow in Santa’s magically wonderful winter paradise, the North Pole, but eventually all the snow will melt, causing Cape Cod to be covered in a multi-colored swamp of toys and candy canes. The only possible end result of this mistreatment of the environment will be a heightened strain on our already contentious immigration problems as the indigenous peoples of the North Pole will undoubtedly seek asylum in the United States.”"

In his presentation Gore showed pictures of itinerate midgets floating hopelessly on islands of stuffed toys, cooking year-old fruitcakes over burning children’s pajamas.

An obviously sedated and somewhat emaciated looking Santa Claus sat in the corner and nodded his head when prodded by Gore’s stagehands with a stick. The monotone maniac took this to signify Santa’s implicit endorsement of his views and suggested that for a nominal fee, Santa would deliver his DVD An Inconvenient Truth to all of the good little boys and girls this holiday season.

Gore then strayed into the realm of pure heresy and near insanity.

’Jesus wants you to save the environment,’ he said. ‘I would never suggest that a colleague of mine wasn’t doing his job, or deprecate his relationship with the good Lord above, but the Republicans in power currently have disregarded the will of Jesus, in his blimp above, and are killing Mother Nature with their unabashed support of big business.’

Unfortunately, at this point in the press conference the cameraman from Fox News fell asleep, falling on the soundboard, severing power to the only recording device in the room, an analogue, reel-to-reel recorder from 1978.

As a point of interest, and proof of the journalistic integrity and vigilance of Fox News, the only people in the room that stayed awake longer were Gore himself and his assistant in charge of prodding poor old St. Nick.

Lush For Life super correspondent Arthur Rocks attempted to reach Jesus for comment but was greeted by the crooning of Trent Lott’s holiday greatest hits album.

“

LONDON – The ambassador of Japan to Great Britain, Mr. Guijin Kusai, came to confess all at the London headquarters of Lush For Life. Kusai looked like an agitated octopus as he floundered about the reception area while he waited to be sent up to my office on the 52^nd floor. I stood up as Kusai was ushered in by my secretary. I went to shake his hand, but the volume of sweat dripping from his hands made me think twice. I bowed, offered him a seat and a towel instead.

“So, tell me, Mr. Kusai, to what do I owe the honour of such an auspicious guest in my humble office?”

“I just had to tell someone, I can’t rive with the guilt any ronger. There was no poison prot to kill that Russian spy Arexander Ritvinenko. No kill squad was sent by Moscow or any rogue erement in the Lussian Secret Service. Lumours that he set himself up as a martyr in order to make Putin rook guilty are also a red helling. It’s all been a huge mistake, and now my honour is on the rine; you have to help me.”

I raised my eyebrows just slightly, pressed the record button on my Dictaphone I had in my pocket, and made a mental note to cancel the game of squash I had lined up with Prince Harry.

“As you know, there just aren’t that many fish reft in the Atrantic Ocean. The ones your fishing freets are catching are so small they wouldn’t satisfy my cat’s appetite. On top of that, those blonde-haired, blue-eyed devils from Sweden and Denmark keep stearing your fish and there is not a damn thing you can do about it.

“Fish have become a valuable commodity since sushi became so popurar in Rondon. The sushi restaurants of Soho have become a battleglound. Yakuza owned sushi bars have been stearing shipments of fish from one another, waging a war of underhand sneakiness that even an American poritician would be impressed. This all got out of hand as such things do, especially when Japanese honour is concerned.

“Somehow, the Yakuza got hold of some poronium-210 and poisoned the fish at their rival’s sushi bar. This may seem a rittle out of proportion to the crime, but then again, we Japanese don’t rike to do things in small measures; Akiramenai, as we say in Japan. We just don’t know how to quit. It just so happened that they poisoned an ex-Lussian spy and now all hell has bloken roose.”

I went to my liquor cabinet and poured myself a glass of single malt. I handed another glass to my guest. I made another mental note to cancel dinner at my favourite sushi restaurant in Soho and book into the steak house next door instead, but it was just not going to be a good day for eating anything too rare or bloody.

“So what can I do for you in this interesting time?”

“I am here to tell you my stoly so you can splead the truth before I carry out the orders of my superiors. Now that you know of the terrible deeds committed by my countrymen on your soil, I must saclifice myself to purge their dishonour.”

I must admit that my first thought when seeing Kusai draw his katana from beneath his coat was that I would never be able to get the blood out of the new cream carpet that had only been laid the week before. Kusai looked up into the middle distance and recited his death poem, Ippo Machigau To! (One False Step? The Sword!) before plunging his sword into is belly, committing sepuku.

I sighed again, finished my whiskey in a gulp, hit the intercom, and spoke to my secretary.

“Charlotte, Mr. Kusai has had a little accident. Could you be a dear and call the cleaners in, and if you could also give the carpet fitters a call, that would be great. I will be down at The Club for the rest of the day so, if you could, transfer all my calls.”

“PLANO, TX – These days, life at the Clarke residence is much more hospitable than it used to be, thanks in large part to a new series of Mac commercials which humorously differentiate between Mac and PC platforms.

Reginald Clarke, a forty-nine year old accountant, said that until he’d seen the commercials, he’d often fought with his son, 19-year-old Reginald Clarke, Jr., or “”Reggie”", over Reggie’s lifestyle choices.

“”We always used to be at each other’s throats,”" Clarke senior said.

“”I mean, I’m so straight-laced and he’s so…artistic, or whatever you want to call it, that we just couldn’t come to common ground. It was one of those, ‘hey, son, cut your hair’ type things, but much, much worse”"

Clarke junior agreed, saying he and his father often found contention with what he described as creative differences, explaining: “”He wakes up so early and is so stuffy about his suits being pressed and clean – it’s just so repressive, or something.”"

Clarke junior also said that his father didn’t understand his arduous work schedule, and often accused him of being lazy. “”Sure, he might wake up early and, like, go to an office and stuff, but I don’t get why I’m not as ‘responsible’ as he is just because I wake up a little later, and because before I go to work I just so happen to eat some Cap’n Crunch and watch ‘The Jetsons’ (or is it ‘The Jeffersons’?), for a couple hours”"

Clarke disagreed, saying his son doesn’t work, but “”just screws around playing guitar all day”" instead.

The younger Clarke, in turn, disagreed with his father, saying his band, Python Sunrise, is ‘seriously’ about to get a record deal which would make him richer than his ‘old man’.

Clarke junior also added that his father often chided him about hygiene, saying his father was so relentless about personal upkeep that he once sneaked into Reggie’s room and cut his hair when he was sleeping.

’Okay, I admit, it was a little weird,’ Clarke senior said. ‘But it was for his own good, and it did grow back. Rather quickly, come to think.’

The conflicts came to a crux, however, when Clarke senior kicked his son out of the house.

’He just started ragging on me again, so I called him out, and was I like, ‘you fascist,’ and he said, ‘well then leave,’ so I did.’

That week, Reggie slept in Python Sunrise’s 1992 Econoline minivan.

Reggie said that when he came home to gather personal effects and put them in a plastic milk crate he’d stolen from behind a 7-Eleven, his father was watching TV. The show went into intermission.

Though Reggie didn’t normally watch television because it’s ‘a corporate mind control machine that just tricks you into buying stuff’, he said the Mac commercial caught his eye even before he knew what he was seeing.

The premise of the particular commercial Reginald and Reggie saw, titled ‘Better’, highlighted the pros and cons of both computer platforms. In the advertisement, two men personify the Mac and PC systems. Mac sports unruly hair, a goatee, and a relaxed hoodie, whereas PC wears a stiff suit, glasses, and clean shave.

The different personalities both characters embody are thought to characterize the strengths and weaknesses of each computer. Whereas PCs are known for their day-to-day applicability, Macs are heralded for their flexibility and creativity.

At the conclusion of the commercial, which juggles both ‘agree to disagree’ and ‘Macs are better’ sentiments, Reggie Clarke approached his father, who was on the sofa, and they began to talk.

’The commercial – it was like looking in a mirror and seeing both of us,’ Reginald said. ‘I suddenly ‘got it’, that we were both better at different things, kind of like the computer, but that it was okay to be better at different things’

Reggie agreed, though in different words. ‘Yeah, my old man is totally boring like that guy in the commercial, but even though he was all bumbling and stuff, he could get along with the young guy that was really cool, like me’

’Because we were so similar to the characters in the commercial,’ Clarke senior explained, ‘it really made me reflect upon how we’d handled our relationship. PC didn’t cut Mac’s hair. They kind of just talked, which was really sweet.’

After several minutes of frank discussion, Reginald and son Reggie shook hands. They then made their way to the nearest Apple store at Pendleton Heights Towne Centre so that Reginald could buy his son a Mac computer.

’Sure, it was great making up with my dad. I really needed a steady place to live,’ Reggie said. ‘But still and all, the best part about seeing the commercial and making up was that my dad bought me a MacBook because of it. He said that since I’m a musician, I needed a tool to foster my creativity, or something. I agreed; the MacBook has let me get so much stuff done. Right after I got it and downloaded some porn, I immediately uploaded three Python Sunrise songs to the band’s Myspace page. It’s the most I’ve done in years. Now that I have a Mac, I can’t imagine life without it.’

Reggie said his band, Python Sunrise, was still waiting to hear back from Sony regarding its record deal.

“

“OXFORD, UK – Two new discoveries have been made deep in the oak forests of England. Number one: there are no more oak forests. Number two: there is new evidence to suggest that even 5000 years ago, the world had to deal with lawyers.

The discovery was made during an archaeological dig near the City of Oxford. The scientists uncovered a shrunken, wizened-looking skeleton that had what the experts are calling a “”crone”"-like posture. The find has been dated to 3000 years B.C. The cause of death was easy to ascertain due to the large knife that stuck out of the skeleton’s rib cage. The skeletal structure is unusual, but it’s the stone tablet stuffed into the skeletons’ mouth that has really caused a stir in academic circles.

The linguistics department at Oxford University has been studying the previously unknown writing that was found on the stone tablet. After an exhaustive study taking many years, the head of linguistics, Professor Martin Moriarty, claims to have cracked the mystery language.

Lush For Life had the chance to interview the professor at his ancient residence in St. John’s College, deep in the back streets of ancient Oxford.

’Good afternoon, Professor, please tell our readers how you came to crack this mystery language.’

’I am one of the few linguistic historians who are familiar with the writing of this period. At first I could not make heads or tails of it. The script looked like Bronze Age writing of the time but I could not translate it. It wasn’t until my son was arrested for growing cannabis in the back yard and the following endless court hearings that the answer came to me.’

’Excuse me professor, what came to you?’

’The reason that the writing was incompressible to me was that it was written by an ancient lawyer. From this perspective, it has been possible through years of study to decipher the meaning.’

’What does the tablet say?’

’It turns out that an ancient Briton called Ethelred the Short-Tempered had a disagreement with his next door neighbour about a new fence Ethelred put up in his front yard. The lawyers had been called in, and it seems that Ethelred did not take kindly to this crony, stuffing his mouth with the court summons after plunging his knife into his chest. We were also able to decipher the inscription on the hilt of the murder weapon.

’Count to ten before using this knife, dear. Lots of love, your wife, Mrs. Ethelred the Short-tempered. XOXO.’

To finish this report off I went to visit my old professor of anthropology, who has stayed off the Mexican hallucinogens long enough to publish a paper on the skeleton.

’This find will revolutionize our understanding of human evolution. Having seen the skeleton of the ancient lawyer, I propose that this is evidence of a new branch of human evolution. Notice the elongated fingers, the hunched posture, and enlarged voice box – all the hallmarks of a modern lawyer. The next stage in my research calls for a nationwide genetic study of all lawyers to see how genetically different from the rest of the population they have become.’

I asked the resident Lush For Life team of lawyers if they would be willing to take part in the genetic study; after poking me with their bony fingers they told me to fuck off and then issued me with a restraining order. Bloody lawyers?

“

“WESLEY CHAPEL, FL – 42 year-old Renee Knowles, a recent divorcee, purchased an orange tabby cat yesterday in an attempt to stave off what Knowles described as “”the emptiness that is my [her] life”".

According to Ms. Knowles, who currently works as a salon technician at Fantastic Sam’s, the divorce proceedings separating her from husband Solomon “”Big Sally”" Knowles were protracted and lengthy, owing to the fact that she refused to sign the paperwork for eight months in an attempt to salvage their waning relationship.

“”I was just hoping and praying and crossing my fingers, all at the same time, it seemed,”" Ms. Knowles said. “”I told Sally, ‘you can have your other women, you can have your cards and your drink.’ And you know what? He left me anyways! Yeah, I was one of those modern wives, the kind that reads People and sees the stars with their ‘open-marriages’, and I thought maybe one of those could work with simple, humble Sally and I, but the truth is, it didn’t. We’re not stars, and we will never be…”"

Ms. Knowles said that before marrying, she’d known Mr. Knowles had a well-earned reputation for being a womanizer and champion arm-wrestler, but “”it was that rebelliousness that kind of drew me to him.”"

“”He just kind of had that look – kind of like an older, hairier, sweatier version of James Dean, with an unbuttoned electrician’s shirt, low enough so that I could see his chest hair and his gold chain,”" Knowles explained, eyeing her wedding ring.

“”Look, it’s real cubic zirconium. I swear. Sally got it for me on the shopping network, isn’t that sweet?”"

During the interview, Ms. Knowles continued to refer to Mr. Knowles as her husband, addressing him by his first name.

Ms. Knowles does not intend to change her name back to her maiden name.

’I’ll always be his wife – always.’

Although Mr. Knowles told our correspondent that he’d no intention of returning to ‘that crazed, manipulative, bitch’ as a husband, he did say that he’d consider living with her, if evicted from his trailer.

’Shit happens, what can I say?’ Knowles said. ‘It’s not like I want to live there, or that I love her or anything like that. It’s Renee’s fault that she got her heart broken – she knew I was untamable to begin with’

Mr. Knowles then growled, only before coughing into a dirty rag.

’You see, this is exactly why I left,’ he said. ‘That marriage, that domesticity shit, I knew it’d kill me’

Ms. Knowles, who now cradles her cat, Snookums, around her apartment in a custom-made shoulder sling remains optimistic.

’I mean, I know he’ll come back. I know my Sally. He has to. He has no car, no job, no money, so it’s almost like he’s kind of stuck, in a way’

Asked what he thought of Snookums, Mr. Knowles said he disagreed with Ms. Knowles choice of companionship, but would nevertheless consider living with her again?

‘Cats? I fucking hate ‘em. But a place to crash is a place to crash, after all,’ he said. ‘I might be unstable, but I’m not fucking stupid’

“

“PHILADELPHIA – Further inquiry conducted by the Lush For Life investigative staff has revealed new startling answers to the cause of the recent knee injury sustained by Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb on November 19. McNabb sustained a complete tear to his medial collateral ligament – an injury that will require eight to twelve months of rehabilitation – while engaged in a seemingly harmless rollout pass play during the Eagles week 11 matchup with the Tennessee Titans. After the completion of the play, McNabb fell to the ground on the Titans’ sidelines wincing in pain, and upon further review of the routine play, the cause of the injury was unknown.

Examination of game tape of McNabb’s injury by Lush For Life investigators revealed loose, jagged pixels scattered across the grass of Lincoln Financial Field, caused by the poor, low-definition television broadcast used by FOX Sports. These pixels, according to Philadelphia Eagles team physician Peter DeLuca, are the cause of McNabb’s recent horrific injury.

“”He didn’t plant his foot awkwardly of shift his weight abnormally,”" DeLuca said to Lush For Life correspondent and NFL insider Rob Johnson. “”I won’t know for sure until we cut him open, but I think that low-def shit has something to do with this.”"

Though FOX offers high definition broadcasts of NFL games on a weekly basis, some games are still broadcast in the standard 480i resolution. Having such poor quality, according to Samsung technical representative Sin-Blah Park, can cause more problems than once originally perceived.

“”Having so little lines of resolution is a dangerous thing in today’s digital world,”" Park said to Lush For Life correspondent Arthur Rocks. “”I twisted my ankle just last week while giving a speech at a conference in Orlando. I’ll never be caught in low-def again.”"

Since the discovery, a team of NFL Films technicians has begun a detailed investigation into previous injuries sustained by players in the past. During the past ten days, hundreds of hours of archived game footage have been studied, and the studies have resulted in several findings.

According to NFL Films CEO Steve Sabol, several previous injuries that were once thought to be physical are now believed to be caused by low-definition broadcasts. ‘Our team has uncovered what we now believe is the major cause of injury to players in the NFL,’ Sabol said to Rob Johnson. ‘We plan on filming all of our future jobs in high definition; the only hope is that all the networks follow our lead.’

Some previous injuries believed to be a result of low-definition pixels includes the career-ending injuries sustained by former Denver Broncos lineman Mark Schlereth, Tampa Bay Buccaneers lineman Marcus Jones, current Kansas City Chiefs running back Priest Holmes, and Hall of Fame quarterback Joe Theisman.

Former Giants linebacker Lawrence Taylor, who ended Theisman’s career by snapping his leg in half during a tackle, offered his comment. ‘It is a huge relief,’ Taylor said to Arthur Rocks, ‘I’ve been carrying that guilt over my head for years, and to know that it wasn’t my fault will help me finally kick my out-of-control cocaine and meth habit.’

Though many more man hours involving digital reconstruction and restoration of old game tape will be required, the NFL in determined to get to the bottom of the issue.

“

“NEW YORK – Conservative god Mark Levin, referred to as F. Lee Levin by fellow RNC suck-up and hypocrite Rush Limbaugh, was caught in a toilet stall at Yankee Stadium giving fellatio to a thirteen-year-old mongoloid on Tuesday, according to a NYPD insider.

Bill Sterling, who wished to remain anonymous, made the report, but not the arrest, at a carnival taking place at the stadium.

“”I walked in and then BAM! There was this dude, sucking the peter of some young retard. It was disgusting,”" Sterling said in his written report. “”There was drool all over the place, coming from the mouths of both Levin and the unnamed mentally handicapped teen.”"

Allegedly, Levin would alternate between tonguing the youth’s testicles and chanting passages from the Koran loud enough to keep from being ignored by the passing cop.

“”Levin was talking all of this gibberish in between rants like, ‘Allah is great! Mohammad is my master!’ and then would again fellate the child.

“”He then began shove a toilet paper tube up his own ass, moaning in what I would describe as groans of pure sexual ecstasy.”"

Levin has denied the allegations in his nightly radio talk show, which is syndicated on dozens of stations across the United States.

’I did not have sex with that boy,’ he fervently stated, followed by a detailed definition of ‘sex’ as described by former president Bill Clinton.

’All of you hypocrites at the New York ‘Slimes’ and the Washington ‘Compost’ can take that to the bank!’

His conservative airbag peers, including Limbaugh and Sean Hannity, have come forward to show support for their abased comrade, calling the allegations a ‘blow for the Republican Party set forth by both the Democratic and Gay Conspiracy, designed to bring the forward-thinking right to a point of implosion’ and an ‘obvious direct attack on the people of the United States and an outright act of treason’.

More as this story develops.

“