Tampa – With recent criticism for its nonsensical “Frown Town” article about the saddest cities in America, which placed St. Petersburg Florida as the most depressing place to live and Tampa coming in close at third, Men’s Health magazine has been ranked as the Worst Magazine in the US.

The saddest city article was based on the magazine’s crack (smoking) reporting staff using the online tool SimplyMap, and looked at the amount of people taking antidepressants. Of course the “study” did not take into account the demographics (St. Petersburg has the highest ratio of people over the age of 65 in the country) or the reasons for people taking the medication or even that it could be inferred that it’s due to better access to health care.

The same publication recently elected Tampa as the worst city in the US based on scores such as “Lifestyle” which measured how much there is to do, access to ski resorts and average cost of housing, for which Tampa ranked 73rd after New York’s 72nd which of course makes perfect sense.  “What do you expect,” said Jhonas Bender, a leading Tampa Bay area evangelist and international man of mystery, “these are the same people who ranked Fargo North Dakota as the 7th happiest place to live in the country.  I guess if your idea of happiness is shoveling your station wagon out of the snow every freaking day then sunny beaches and a vibrant arts culture probably sounds pretty depressing to you.” However, the truth behind the new cities ranking is much more sinister than simple bad reporting and idiotic statistical interpretations.

Most famous for its in-depth reporting on topics such as “How to improve your online dating profile” and “How to seduce any woman,” Men’s Health magazine has now been found to be the worst magazine in the United States by statistical analysis.

The study was conducted by the Lies, Damn Lies and Statistics Foundation of Dubuque, Iowa, most famous for finding the correlation between low IQ and light beer consumption. The magazines where scored on five factors: Quality of Writing; Over-Used Headlines; Fear Mongering; Relevancy; and General Idiocy. Men’s Health was received scores of 87, 100, 75, 98 and 99 respectively for the categories, beating out some tough competition for the worst rag in the United States like “Pet Rock Connoisseur” and “Genital Mutilation Enthusiast.”
The magazine was given an ‘Over-Used Headline’ score of 100 for basically publishing the same issue over and over again. “Internal consistency is important if you want to be a great publication,” said senior editor Bill Phillips in defense, “that’s why we have a ‘How to get six pack abs in six weeks’ article every edition.”

Often referred to as a “leading light in journalism” by many of its editorial staff, Men’s Health has pioneered creative marketing and sales strategies in this world of sadly declining print media. “No one had even thought of sending trial editions of a magazine to people who didn’t want it and then invoicing them for the two free editions a month later before we did it,” said Author Rocks, a former Men’s Health sports editor. “When they didn’t pay, we sent their asses to a collection agency. Soon most of our ‘subscribers’ realized that they couldn’t mess with us and we became unstoppable. I just don’t see how these folks could consider Men’s Health to be anything but the greatest magazine ever published.”

It seems that the new rankings have taken a serious toll on the senior staff at the magazine. Deputy Editor Adam Campbell has decided to quit the magazine citing “I just can’t look at my self in the mirror any more, giving gay men eating disorders just doesn’t seem to give me the same joy it used it.” And “New Projects Editor” Gabe Guarente was found dead in his Emmaus, Pennsylvania apartment Wednesday. Guarente left a beautifully penned suicide note stating, “I can’t go on. I have an English degree from Tufts University for God’s sake! Every day I have to correct the grammar and punctuation of writers whose main qualifications are ‘former fitness instructor’ and ‘great pecks’. I told them, if I have to edit one more damned story on spray tanning I was going to kill myself! They laughed – now who’s laughing? – GG”
Update: Three more senior editorial staff at Men’s Health have now tragically taken their own lives, citing reasons ranging from unbearable sexual harassment to the inability to deal with the frequent misuse of semi-colons.

This is not the first time that the pubescent publication has come under fire for its ranking systems. In 2000 Men’s Health ranked UMass – a campus where women had recently been plagued by a serial rapist – as one of the nation’s worst colleges for men. Their rational: Too much of: Women’s studies, feminism, multiculturalism, enforcement of Title IX, strong sexual harassment policies.

“The thing is you see,” said Arthur Rocks, “is that if you’re not a white, male, English speaking, red-meat eating, self-obsessed narcissist, we just don’t like you. Why do you think Tampa and St. Petersburg continuously get trashed by the magazine? You people and your artsy-fartsy cultural nonsense, your ethnic diversity and high rates of pay equality for women just make me sick. Real cities like Emmaus are 96% white, women make 66% less than men and are named after places in the Bible. Just because you people have three times the job growth, better access to health care, lower hypertension rates, more universities, twice the money spent on the arts per person, better weather, and some of the best beaches in the world doesn’t mean anyone would want to live in your stinking hellhole.”

It seems that because the Tampa Bay area is consistently named one of the best places for singles, raising a family, access to health care, retirees, safety, cultural and ethnic diversity, recreation, and access to education means that folks whose primary concern in life is finding “The Best New Hair Products for Men” couldn’t stand to live here.

However it must be true. If you read Men’s Health, you know that all men are buff, all woman are half-naked and everything is better grilled. These truths are so self-evident that it must mean that the Tampa Bay area is the worst place in the country to live and that everyone in St. Petersburg is one step away from killing themselves, probably because they couldn’t get those six pack abs in six weeks.

This week has seen some of the most exciting developments in recent memory for many mobile phone journalists and enthusiasts. With announcements for three new phones from Sony, a new HTC Android device, four fantastic looking entries from Nokia and enough iPhone 3 rumors to fill a million bogs, picking the most interesting offering to write about has been tough. That is until Canadian market giant Research in Motion entered the fray with six new creations, including the new and highly controversial “Crackberry” line.

The Crackberry will reportedly come in two versions, Crackberry Standard and Crackberry Pro. The Pro edition will allow users to send and receive 256bit encrypted text messages, include a police band radio scanner, and utilize a sensitive scale, built in under the display, in conjunction with a custom app called “Big 8”. Other apps only available for the Pro edition will include “Blow up”, a tool for working out lidocaine-to-product ratios, “Bomb squad” a collaboration tool for street team management, and a new client management app simply called “Cluck”. All this on as well as some of the more familiar tools such as Wireless email, a media player and corporate data access.

“The Crackberry line of products was my idea,” proudly reported Co-CEO and Director James “Big Jim” Balsillie, in a press conference Thursday. “People have been using the term for so long now, that I figured, what hey, eh,” continued Balsilie, referring to the term coined to indicate how many Blackberry users are “addicted” to their phones. “And then it hit me, why not capitalize on that. I mean people gotta have what they gotta have, right…eh?” Balsillie, a famed philanthropist, athlete, Honorary Chair of the Peterborough YMCA’s Building New Memories Campaign and the ninth-richest person in Canada, is North America’s leading advocate for the legalization of Crack Cocaine (and a huge crack-head himself.)

The Crackberry Standard model will feature similar innovative features, such as a specially designed touch screen that will compensate for badly shaking hands, a special, fork-like prong near the USB port for scratching and a GPS receiver that will notify the user of any Crackberry Pro carriers in the area. Some have tech insiders have however criticized the device due to its lack of expandable memory and limited MIDI ring tones, but many users have cited the integration with BlackBerry® Enterprise Server for Novell® GroupWise® as more than enough to compensate for some of the shortfalls.
This reporter was fortunate enough to be allowed to interview one of RIM’s test users for the Standard edition. “Man, da Stan-ded may be spec-ed likes da Bold fo sho, but dis one’s fo` da ages,” said Martha Livengood, a happily married mother of three in Debuque, Iowa. “Shorties gosta be at da game, transpo`tin all da time, yo. Feels, you know, like fiddy pa-cent my time I’s cooking (and aint da good kind’o cooking ya feel?) cleanin’ n mo’ transpo`tin. Dat Stan-did man, yo, dat kinda time sava save my time, en help make sho’ I don’t do no time, feel?”

The four models being lost in the hubbub over the Crackberry are the Blackberry Onyx, Magnum, Pearl 3G and Gemini, however RIM’s stock was still up over 4.2% after the bell Friday.

WASHINGTON – To the casual news watcher this week, two stories stick out like George W. pronouncing “incandescent” correctly: Iranian President and international man of insanity Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s visit to New York, and former Heisman trophy winner and slasher-killer O.J. Simpson’s run in with the law. Though the two stories seem, on the surface, unrelated, Lush For Life’s crack (smoking) investigative team has uncovered a massive, international conspiracy, linking the two events together in ways even more disturbing than the Eagles’ cornea-searing throwback uniforms.

As darkness fell on the night of the 17th and the usual rations of rum and salvia were being handed out to the writing staff at Lush For Life’s downtown headquarters, our gargantuan editor-in-chief, Egbert Sousé, burst through the gold-plated swinging doors of the press room, wearing a circa 1940s lady’s chiffon robe, clearly intoxicated, and carrying a stack of papers in one hand and a John Gruden bobble-head doll in the other. Kicking his pink bunny slippers off his feet and sweating profusely, he began to scream obscenities across the MacBook Pro-lined desks, spitting what appeared to be Oreo remains as he yelled: “I need one of you losers clean and close to sober! This is huge, massive; nay, monstrous!” I made the mistake of making eye contact with the clearly senseless word-Nazi and had a stack of papers, half covered in mayonnaise and what looked like marinara sauce, thrown in my face. “Idaho, you hack, get that torch lighter out of your filthy paws and get to DC before I rape you with a rusty colander! OUT!”

Having barely escaped with my life and dignity intact, I sobered up on the flight to DC with a delightful cocktail and some light reading of the sauce-covered documents my editor had paper-cut my face with. As my head cleared and I moved on to my third Manhattan, I realized that between the pasta and salad adornments lay a wealth of information on Nicole Brown Simpson, the murdered ex-wife of the great comedic actor, O.J. Simpson. The docket appeared to be leaked CIA intel, implying that Nicole Simpson, who was born in Germany, was actually the last remaining specimen of the Nazi genetic engineering experiments. She had been specially designed by remnants of Hitler’s scientists to create the ultimate tolerant Aryan. One who would have all the hallmarks of the Nazi ideal, but win over support and power for the German people by being a perfect person in both appearance and heart.

On arriving in our nation’s capital of white buildings and black faces, I went straight to the Library of Congress and requested all the information they had on O.J. Simpson and Nazis, however, it appeared that I had mistaken “Al’s Big Titty Bonanza” for the Library of Congress. Not to be disheartened, I began to pump the employees for information. It didn’t come cheap either; I racked up over $850 on the Lush For Life company credit card I had lifted from our editor’s laced-lined pocket. But my gamble paid off. One of the young ladies I… um… interviewed, delightfully named Sparkle, was intimate with O.J. as well as the details of his trial, most of her information coming from a DC insider publication simply called “Us”.

As it turns out, O.J. was a rabid Anti-Semite, and had married Nicole Brown knowing that she was the product of Nazi scientists. O.J. had often confided in Sparkle that if he had to be called into another NFL owners’ meeting with a Jew, he would kill someone. It had all fallen apart in June of 1994 when Simpson heard rumors of the Glazer family buying the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and simultaneously discovered that Nicole was sleeping with Ron Goldman (clearly an evil Jew). O.J. snapped and slashed them, but never got to the Glazers as he was soon arrested and charged with the murders of Nicole and Ron. And we all know how that turned out.

I paid my tab and left with more questions than I arrived with. Sparkle gave me an autographed, silver hipflask that O.J. used to hand out, this one made out to someone called “Cecilia,” whoever that was.
So what did any of this have to do with O.J.’s recent run in with the law? Sure, we all know the story spewed out by the liberal, drive-by media: that O.J. held some people at gunpoint and stole some sports memorabilia, but the stench of the heist is enough to raise even the least paranoid reporter’s eyebrow.
On the cab ride back to the airport, I managed to scrape a final slathering of pizza sauce off the CIA docket, and almost vomited with surprise. “Dallas International!” I screamed to the panicking cabbie as I pulled at his steering wheel.

As I racked up my frequent flyer miles and blood alcohol level, I reexamined my info. There it was, in black and white and mayo: phone calls between O.J. and a secure-line deep in the Iranian embassy back in 2006. What could the calls mean? Tourist visas? Autograph session requests? A wrong number? How did any of this get out?

When I landed in New York, I called the number on the CIA letterhead of the intel docket, and spoke to a lovely young lady with a voice like maple syrup that answered all my questions. Samantha told me that Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has been trying to recruit O.J. to work as a cultural attaché for the deranged world leader. She then remembered where she worked and hung up on me.

As I sat in the hallowed halls of Columbia University’s lecture hall waiting for the bearded Middle Eastern Exec to begin his speech, it struck me like a poorly fitting gloved hand striking a blade into my chest. O.J. has a marked hatred of Jews, a formidable build and proven speed, a strong propensity to slice open people’s throats, and now, the necessary skills required in breaking and entering, armed robbery, and kidnapping. O.J. and the Iranian Government: a match made in heaven! What’s even better is that, due to O.J.’s financial difficulties, he hasn’t been doing anything to make money, because it would go to straight to paying off the $30 million he owes for the wrongful death civil suit. But if he were living and earning in Iran, the courts and the Goldmans would have a hard time picking his pockets. He would live a life of luxury and ease while been given carte blanche to pick and choose who he can kill!

As the terrible reality of one of America’s favorite pastimes (namely celebrity criminal trail watch) losing its greatest players to a foreign nation dawned on me, I began to feel incredible depressed. The drowning voice of the translator, and the awful acoustics of the hall made me feel even worse. Fortunately, I took solace in the fact that I had my shiny “To Cecilia, best wishes – O.J. Simpson” hip flask full of Wild Turkey 101 in my jacket pocket, knowing that Ahmadinejad would not approve.

As more and more celebrities are discovering the cash cow that is the fashion industry, one has to ask the question: just because you wear clothes, should you be designing them? Celebs like Jessica Simpson are finding out that you don’t need to be a talented actress or singer to still make money; a line of cute coats and perfumes can be just as profitable.
But you don’t have to be a marginally talented musician in order to cash in on people’s need to have a taste of celebrity at home, as it now appears that terrorist leader and would-be fashion designer Osama bin Laden will be releasing a new fashion line in mid-September.
Last week, the al-Qaeda top dog released his first video statement since October 2004, in which he tells Americans that they should convert to Islam, as well as calling the Democrats pussies for not ending the war in Iraq and praises the anti-war writings of Noam Chomsky and Michael Scheuer. But the content of the message was ignored, in favor of the much more interesting color change in bin Laden’s beard. Speculation has been rampant over the reason for the cosmetic enhancement to the most-wanted’s whiskers, until today when a second video was released featuring an in-depth interview with bin Laden.
The interview, conducted by MTV’s Sway Calloway from a secret location, explained the dye job and much, much more.
“You see,” said the terrorist leader dressed in a [insert picture description here], “it all came to me when my boy, Adam Yahiye Gadahn, arrived with a bag-o-bling and cash for some… um… venture… in a gorgeous Kitson tote bag. I asked him where he acquired such a delightful minaudière and he introduced me to the Paris’ Kitson website, where I found the most stunning Kitson LA Bouffant Drawstring Pants in a pastel blue. They are simply the most comfortable things I have found to lounge about the cave in, not to mention that my ass looks fabu in them.
“Then I thought to myself, ‘Osama, what is Paris Hilton really famous for?’ Being famous? Being famous for being famous is just silly. I, on the other hand, am the leader of the most infamous group in the world; I am way more of a badass than Jay-Z, and he makes millions of that Rocawear [junk]. I bought a watch from them and it broke, like, three months later. You know how difficult it is to find a good jeweler in the Waziristan region of Pakistan? Freaking impossible.”
As a result, the al-Qaeda leader-in-hiding, decided to start his own clothing line called “Bin Here!” featuring a full set of T-shirts, sweatpants, tote bags, and sneakers. There are also plans in the works to turn an ex-chemical weapons lab into a fragrance manufacturing plant for Mr. bin Laden’s new perfume line, simply called “Osama”. Inspired by the war in Iraq, al-Qaeda recruitment is at an all time high and it appears that opium sales and Iranian donations are simply not enough to feed, train, and equip the massive influx to the ranks. A clothing and shoe line might just be the thing to foot the bill.
When Sway asked whose clothing lines he respected, Mr. Bin Laden replied:
“Well I really like a lot of them, especially Jessica Alba, Jessica Simpson, Mandy Moore, Kanye West, Sean ‘P. Diddy’ Combs (love his music), Milla Jovovich, Paula Abdul, J. Lo (what can I say about that ass?), Pamela Anderson (God, I love her), Elizabeth Hurley, Anna Nicole Smith (a classy lady), Hilary Duff, Mary-Kate and Ashley (so cute, so cute), Kelly Osbourne, Eminem, Jay Z, Nelly, Snoop Dogg (my boy), 50 Cent, Justin Timberlake (what a voice), Gwen Stefani, Mariah Carey, Beyoncé (can you say HOT?), and Bono (love his shades; hate his music).”
Many local and state governments have already decided to take action to cut off further lines of funding to terrorists by banning baggy pants and skimpy short-shorts in an attempt to stop the new line of clothing, with Georgia and Louisiana leading the way. The White House has yet to comment on the news, as they are in the difficult situation of not wanting to set a precedent in banning any Middle Eastern imports.

Continuing an obsession with secrecy seldom seen outside of the wards of mental institutions, the Bush administration revealed recently that the President underwent treatment for Lyme disease last year. Lyme disease is transmitted primarily by ticks and, apparently, Bush receives many tick bites during his normal bike rides, confirming that even his popularity rating among the insects has reached all-time lows.
The disease also has been associated with neuropsychiatric symptoms, including depersonalization, hallucinations, and panic attacks in its later stages. Doctors claim they successfully treated Bush’s disease in its early stages, well before any such symptoms could have arisen. However, since depersonalization is often defined as a lack of connection with reality, some questions do exist as to whether it is the symptom of a recalcitrant Lyme disease influencing Bush’s Iraq policy, although, other than in the hazed minds of Lush for Life reporters, no solid evidence has emerged to support this notion.
In light of this recent news out of the White House, all major candidates in the 2008 Presidential Race have released medical treatment records from the past few years. While most treatments received by the various candidates were benign, some of them were quite shocking.
Democratic contender Barrack Obama was perhaps the least interesting of all. He did not have any notable treatments for severe conditions. He did, however, have more than twenty prostate examinations in the past three years. Considering the average male of his age only needs one exam per year, and none of the examinations diagnosed him with any conditions, the announcement was a bit curious. The Obama campaign said, “Mr. Obama would just rather be safe than sorry.” But Obama did leave open some questions when he stated, “Who doesn’t enjoy a good prostate exam?”
Former Republican Governor Mitt Romney underwent treatment for severe sunburn on three separate occasions. Apparently, the sunburns resulted after he fell asleep using his home tanning bed. Romney is a heavy sleeper, so his regular alarm sometimes fails to wake him. The Romney campaign assured voters that a much louder alarm has been installed and that the sunburns will no longer be a problem.
John Edwards, the poster boy for the far-left of the Democratic Party, revealed that he had underwent no fewer than three separate Botox treatments and five chemical peels. This announcement, along with the scandal surrounding his $400 haircut, may serve to sink his campaign even further.
Democratic front-runner Hillary Clinton’s records looked relatively normal. The one aberration occurred on August 19, 2004. The former first lady was admitted to the emergency room at approximately 11:30 that night and treated for a broken arm and black eye. She refused to comment on the treatments, but a campaign insider leaked that it was husband Bill Clinton’s birthday and Mrs. Clinton had forgotten the “safety word.”
Republican Senator John McCain’s recent misfortunes seem certain to be compounded by the announcement of his records. Apparently, the aged senator died from cardiac arrest about five months ago. The next day, he was medically reanimated [Now illegal, see Cover Story – Ed.]. While the campaign assured reporters this would have no bearing on his ability to perform Presidential duties, voters might not agree.
Finally, and most shocking of all, Republican Congressman Tom Tancredo revealed he has been undergoing extensive treatment for a variety of psychological conditions. Among the worst, the left-front quadrant of Tancredo’s brain has been medically certified as pure evil. While the other three quadrants have fought off the infection with some success, and doctors claim the anti-Satan injections directly into his spinal cord are working, the longevity of such experimental treatments is far from certain. The Tancredo campaign said the infection was a result of “illegal immigration” and vowed, for some illogical reason, to bomb the Islamic holy cities of Mecca and Medina as revenge.

WASHINGTON – “They hate our freedoms – our freedom of religion, our freedom of speech, our freedom to vote and assemble and disagree with each other.” Those were the famous words of our great leader, George W. Bush in his 2001 joint session of Congress. With the threat of terrorism around the world steadily rising, the White House has now decided that it is finally time to act on this philosophy to put an end to attacks on American interests. The new policy was disclosed yesterday when Senior White House Press Secretary, Tony Snow, described the well thought out plan:
“Since September 11th, we, the American people, have been living in fear of crazed Islamo-Fascists, homosexuals, illegal immigrants, liberals, scientists and other barbaric, Godless haters of Freedom, but now the time has come to fight back. With the ongoing war on terror in Iraq and Afghanistan going so well, we now think that it is time to start attacking the underlying causes of terrorism – namely, our freedoms.”
When Snow was asked to clarify, he explained, “Well, the reason they hate us is ‘cause of our freedoms, right? So, we figured that if we want them to stop fighting us, we need to get rid of those freedoms they hate so much. We’ve been trying this is small ‘test doses,’ such as the Patriot Act, wiretapping, secret prison camps, and all that other good stuff. But it doesn’t seem to be slowing them down over there – where we’re fighting them so we don’t have to fight them here.” When the malicious laughter from the liberal media died down, and the yells of “Get a new script, Tony!” and the cruel “You’re playing the tape, jackass!” subsided, Snow scuttled out of the pressroom, quietly weeping.
The full details of the plan were given to the media in delightful “My Little Pony and Friends” dockets bound with pink lace ribbons that Condoleezza Rice put together all by herself. This reporter obtained one the aforementioned dockets and I was pleasantly surprised. Inside the document was a pop-up book picture of the Whitehouse with President Bush and Mr. Dick Cheney, arm in arm, with a pull-tab to make them wave.
The book told the story of bad men from a far away land that hated everyone in a magical place called the United States of Goodness. These evil men wanted to destroy the happy people of the USG because they were jealous of how free and happy everyone was. But the king of this fairyland was a clever Cowboy King called George! He came up with a clever plan to stop those bad, bad men from coming to the USG and eating Goodness’ babies and spreading evil magic and promoting homosexuality. King George told everyone that he was going to pretend to take away all their freedoms and then the bad, bad men wouldn’t want to come and hurt them. Then Good King George would give all their freedoms back and they would all have a great big party with all the candy and wax lips they could ever want.
After that came a budget proposal for the necessary changes of converting all tax-exempt places of worship into Southern Baptist (hallelujah) churches. This was followed by the proposed constitutional changes to revoke the first amendment, considering that it states that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances,” and once it is scrapped, it gets rid of three of the five problems the terrorists have with us.
Next, for no apparent reason, but infinitely charming, was a picture of a rainbow in a blue sky with a beautiful unicorn frolicking over daisy-covered plains.
On page 12, a stunning flow chart displayed the order in which government regulatory agencies would be shut down and how future elections would be suspended until the bad men went away. Page 14 showed a delightful illustration of a chocolate-flavored “Village of Smiles”, where Democrats and other detesters of freedom could be rehabilitated or thrown into cute, pink, polka-dot-lined mass graves. Finally, a list of acceptable ideas and beliefs was attached as a five-page appendix and a handsome gift bookmark of a leather crucifix with “Jesus would want us to win” embossed in gold on the cross.
Although there is some skepticism in the Bush Administration’s ability to carry out the full extent of the plan, many Washington insiders believe that if there is one thing this administration has experience in, it’s taking away freedom.

LYNCHBURG, VA – Jerry Falwell, the moral and spiritual beacon for all God-fearing, minority-loathing, gun-toting, Jew-hating, science-snubbing, feminist-fearing, violence-endorsing Christians died Tuesday at 73 from heart rhythm abnormality.

The Reverend’s heart failure seems to have been caused by over-excitement during a liaison with one of his many regular Mexican male prostitutes at his office at Liberty University. The rent-boy, José-Ernesto, who met with Doctor Falwell on Tuesday, told The Associated Press that the Reverend was wearing a Tinky Winky costume when he arrived for their weekly meeting. Teletubby Falwell apparently died half-way through being orally pleasured by José-Ernesto. The Mexican prostitute admits that his job was made difficult by the bulky outfit, and when he realized that the Reverend was not singing the children’s television show theme song anymore, he slipped out the door.

Thirty minutes later, when Jessica Balm, a student at Liberty, came to visit the Doctor during his office hours, she says that it took her a few minutes to realize that the Teletubby with the raging rigor mortis hard-on sticking through the custom-made flap was, in fact, a deceased Reverend Falwell.

Falwell dodged the evangelical men-of-God sex scandals of the 1980’s when Jim Bakker, Jimmy Swaggart, and Marvin Gorman played with young, supple forbidden fruit, and then avoided the same fate as the methed-up, man-whore banging Reverend Ted Haggard. But the Reverend Falwell’s last act is controversial for one very important reason. Falwell said that “Grown men should not be having sex with prostitutes unless they are married to them.” Considering that Doctor Falwell opposed gay marriage, some consider this hypocritical. When asked to comment, José-Ernesto said he wouldn’t have married him anyway. But Falwell’s son, imaginatively named Jerry Falwell Jr., said that the famous televangelist is up in heaven right now discussing with God how gays, Jews (present company excluded, Jesus), and pretty much anyone who isn’t like him are ruining the world. As Falwell himself said in his Christ-like manner: “If you’re not a born-again Christian, you’re a failure as a human being.”

Falwell was respected by all for his many sensible beliefs, including his theory that God was not protecting America from terrorists due to the country’s secular population, that AIDS is God’s answer to homosexuality and the society that tolerates it, that the Antichrist is a Jew running around right now, and that, of course, Tinky Winky is a flamingly gay icon planted in the Teletubbies to turn our children into hairdressers.

Unfortunately, as Falwell often insisted would be the case on his last day, he did not hear the trumpet, and he did not instantly disappear in a rapture to meet the Big Man, leaving his Teletubbie attire behind with the heathen prostitute. But, the Reverend, known for contributing so much good to the world, did die with a smile on his face.

CUPERTINO, CA – It’s here! The iPhone has hit the shelves like a heroin-starved junkie hitting a methadone buffet. The Mac addicts are out in force, lining up in front of Apple stores all around the country, scaring women and children with their long hair, freethinking ideas, and dorky t-shirts. Lush For Life, being an Apple-only organization, was eager to get our hands on one of the highly anticipated smart phones, and succeeded (read our review on page X), but also to find out what really makes the iPhone so special.

In a telephone interview with an Apple insider, Lush For Life learned that the iPhone has many more features that have not yet been activated, but will be in subsequent updates. Intrigued, we shipped the beautiful device to the Lush For Life labs to see what’s on the inside of this beauty. What we discovered was shocking and disturbing. It appears that the iPhone has an incredibly small set of magnetic detection coils bathed in liquid helium located near the speaker of the phone and a superconducting quantum interference device (or SQUID) near the microphone. For those of you not up to date with the latest in neuroscientific equipment, the two devices, if used in tandem, have the power to read brainwaves! Coupled with the iPhone’s incredible processing power and communications systems, the device has the capability to use and transmit brainpower over massive distances!
This shocking discovery can only mean one thing: Steve Jobs is stealing your unused brainpower. Sitting in a dark room, somewhere in the basement of One Infinite Loop (Apple Computers’ Headquarters), hooked up to a mass of cables and computer equipment and drooling on himself is Steve Jobs, eating the excess brainpower of thousands of hapless iPhone users. Rob Johnson, Lush For Life’s resident technologist and neuroscience expert, explained the ramifications, “You see, the phone will use the idle brain power not being used by the owner of the device. This will be extremely easy, as people spend most of their time on the phone engaged in pointless, mindless babble and conversations about shoes. This would enable Jobs to utilize their minds’ processing power for his own evil purposes. It’s kinda like a SETI@Home project for the brain, but rather than searching for extra-terrestrial life, it will be completely at Jobs’ disposal.”

Horrified by this discovery, Lush For Life contacted Apple Computers to give them a chance to comment, however they would only tell us that our warrantee was now null and void that we had opened the device without the assistance of an Apple Genius Technician.

That demanded some deep investigative reporting to uncover Jobs’ truly sinister plan. We searched Wikipedia and discovered that Jobs’ once claimed that doing LSD was one of the most “important experiences of [his] life.” This helps to explain many of the amazingly creative ideas that have come out of Apple in the last 25 years. However, it appears that Jobs, on a twenty-six hour acid binge in 1978, broke through to an over-arching, universal consciousness, giving him god-like powers for the duration of the trip. Ever since, Jobs has been striving to reclaim those powers, but has been too afraid to take more LSD, fearing that he might become a babbling homeless schizophrenic. As a result, he has tried everything from extreme fasting and intense meditation to sensory depravation, but has failed to come close to the omnipotent power he once experienced in 1978.

“The only way a human being could completely tap into the universal power of the collective consciousness would be to harness the power of thousands of minds,” said Ho Chi Rocks of the Alan Watts Institute of Higher Studies in Massachusetts. “I think Jobs has finally gone over the deep end. Power like that will only lead to more and more amazing Apple devices for us to waste our hard-earned dollars on and further add to our already over-consumptive society.”

Whatever it is that Steve Jobs plans to do with all this power is unknown, however speculation abounds that he is using it to add thousands of bugs and security flaws to the new Microsoft Windows Vista. Please, for the sake of the planet, throw your iPhone away… or, better yet, send them to Lush For Life headquarters so that we can safely dispose of them on eBay – I mean, in a giant furnace.

Across the United States, honeybee colonies are disappearing. Some beekeepers are reporting drops in colony populations as much as 25 percent and panic is starting to rise in the throats of economists, ecologists, and entomologists. As trivial as declining bee numbers appears to be on the surface, the reality is that honeybees are used to pollinate over 15-billion dollars worth of crops annually, so no bees means no food. The issue has become so worrisome of late that a congressional hearing will be launched in June to try and determine the cause of what is being called Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD).

Speculation abounds as to the cause of the massive die off of our pollinating pals. Scientists have offered up suggestions ranging from pesticides used on the crops to electromagnetic interference from cell phones and other wireless devices confusing the navigation systems of the bees. However, Lush For Life science correspondent Arthur Rocks is reporting a much more sinister cause for the fading flyers.
Rocks sat down with Jellystone National Park’s Ranger Smith, Wednesday, to discuss the disappearance of the bees. “It’s that God damn bear!” exclaimed Ranger Smith, “And not the fat brown one that’s always in my picnic basket, it’s a new one – also fat, but shorter and yellow, wearing a red shirt, for God’s sake! I saw them building large antennas near the bees. He’s been killing the bees to steal their honey. If I catch him, I’ll kill him. I saw him with a kid, too. They are in cahoots!”

Upon learning of this disturbing, malicious scheme, Lush For Life launched a full undercover investigation into the vanishing honeybees. Complete with night vision goggles, wireless signal detectors, and bee whistles, the editorial staff of L4L headed out into the cold, forest night. What we witnessed was extremely disturbing.

Stealing through the night was a small, yellow bear wearing a tight, red muscle-hugger. Working feverishly through the night, the bear erected a thirty-foot antenna and hooked it up to a small generator. From there, we tracked the bear to a nearby beehive where we observed the small creature plundering the hives for honey, completely free of bees. After beholding the cold-blooded murder of our partners in pollination, we felt we had to follow the beast back to its cave and confront it. However, the evil animal led us to a small house with a white picket fence, a red roof, and the words “The Robins” on a green mailbox, where he slipped into the basement through a small, round window. We decided to return the following morning and attempt to interview the owners of the house, but found that the only one home was a young boy named Christopher.

I sat down with Christopher and asked him if he knew anything about the havoc wreaking resident of his basement. “Oh, that silly old bear, what’s he gotten in to now?” When we explained about the bees, young Christopher appeared shocked. “He did what? I can’t believe it. He is a bear of very small brain. That fucking Owl must be helping him.” As the plot thickened, Christopher prepared some tea for us and began unraveling a tale so horrific that even the hardened Lush For Life staffers had to break into their emergency second hip flasks. According to the young boy, the bear in the basement has been actively engaged in a secret war with the honeybee population since 1926. Aided by a group of animal terrorists including a small pig, a hyperactive tiger, a neurotic rabbit, and a know-it-all explosives-expert owl, the bear has been leading an all-out assault on honeybees, unsuccessfully, for eighty years. “They’ve tried everything,” said the young Robin, “from pumping water into hives to elaborate rain-cloud disguises, they’ve tried everything, and the bees have kept winning.”

When asked why anyone would hate honeybees so much, Christopher said “The honey of course! At first, it was just the silly old bear going after the bees, but after failing countless times, he turned to stealing his friends’ honey to get his fix. They got so annoyed that they decided that helping him secure massive amounts was the only way they would be free of his kleptomania.” Christopher was very articulate for a boy of 12.

Shocked by this revolting revelation, Lush For Life contacted the authorities, and waited. When the police and animal control arrived, we followed them down into the Robin’s basement where we discovered the yellow beast lying on a small bed in a nightcap and gown, covered in honey and snoring happily. Tranquilizer guns drawn, the officer in charge yelled at the bear to wake up and keep his paws where we could see them. As the sleepy bear rose from his glucose-induced coma, he rubbed his eyes, took in the scene, and as it dawned on him that his murderous spree was over he simply muttered, “Oh bother.”

STREETSVILLE, ON – The recent string of pet food poisonings which has lead to the death of many North American cats has left the pet-lovers’ community shocked and terrified.
Menu Foods Income Fund, the holding company that owns the suspected brands, has recalled all of their wet pet food products in an attempt to quell the loss of life. Speculation is abounding as to the source of the poison in the popular pet brands – everything from gluten from China to misused pesticides have been accused of killing kitties across America. In a stunning revelation, Lush For Life has uncovered that this is one of the only examples of a greedy corporate giant actually not being responsible for its dangerous product. The real origin of the noxious nosh: the Biker Mice From Mars.
For those of you either too old or too young to remember, the Biker Mice from Mars were a semi-popular cartoon from the early 90s, starring three hardcore bro-mice who escaped from their home planet to Earth from an awful war against the Plutarkians (an evil fish-like race who exploit planets’ resources for their own selfish motives). After a week of intense journalistic investigation, this reporter has uncovered that the bros are back.
This reporter sat down with Throttle, the sunglass-wearing leader of the gang, outside of the group’s Chicago-based secret hideout. When I asked the majestic mouse why his biker gang had decided to wage a futile war on America’s pets, he spilled the whole story. “Well Dunc, my man, we’ve had kind of a slow decade. Modo (the one-eyed, robot-armed monster of the group) got really into the jazz scene and joined a band, and Vinnie (the self-proclaimed ‘lady-killer’) had a bit of a spiritual crisis after trying some LSD in 1996. I myself had been struggling with a bad relationship on and off for the last six years. About six month ago, we discovered that the Plutarkians were back.
“Disguised in clever human costumes, they’ve been running a few powerful US companies, and we decided to come out of retirement and kick some selfish, fish-faced ass! In the last year or so, we’ve done really well. Perhaps you’ve heard about the fall of Tyco, Enron, and MCI WorldCom – all Plutarkian run companies that we’ve exposed behind the scenes. Recently we’ve discovered that the Plutarkians are now in league with the evil Catatonians. These disgusting cat-like creatures have infiltrated all walks of human life here on Earth, hiding themselves amongst us as cute, lovable pets, all while they plotted to gain further control over Halliburton. We had to strike back somehow. We knew there would be colatteral damage, but what could we do?”
Throttle’s assertions that evil cat and fish-like creatures from outer space have overtaken our corporate structure seem completely logical. How else would you explain the completely inhumane treatment that employees of companies like Tyco and Enron inflict on their poor peons? Catatonians are known for their greed and evil ways – Supreme Commander of the Catatonian invaders, Hannibal T. Hairball is dedicated to his goal of turning every planet in the solar system into a massive litter box, capable of supporting Catatonian life. Strip mining, clear cutting of forests and starting Middle Eastern wars are all part of his heinous plot. So I ask you, Dear Reader, can we really afford to take the contaminated cat chow off store shelves? I think not. It’s time we, as a people, take a stand and fight with the Biker Mice from Mars to stop evil, greedy half-humans from destroying our world.