Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Jonah Falcon - My Facebook Friend

A few months ago I befriended a man by the name of Jonah Falcon on facebook. I heard him on the Howard Stern show and found him to be honest, endearing and a good guest. He even made out with George Takei (Sulu of Star Trek fame). We have similar interests as well. We both like comic books. We both follow New York baseball, although he roots for the Yankees and I root for the Mets. We differ only slightly in that he is carrying around a 13 and 1/2 inch schlong, pictured below.





This led me to think of the other semi-celebrities or athletes I am connected to on Facebook and wanted to see if anyone else had any interesting ones (fake or real).


My other ones:

Jessica Simpson - she wants me.

A whole host of UFC fighters - Cheick Kongo, Frank Trigg, Paul Kelly, Anderson Silva, etc...

Sal Governale and Richard Christy from the Stern show - they took a break from Tradio to befriend me.

Jim Florentine - comedian.


Who are you friends with?
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Monday, March 30, 2009

Circling the Wagoner

Under terms of the government’s bailout of the auto industry, General Motors and Chrysler were asked to submit their restructuring plans to administration officials for approval. Based on these plans, the Obama administration would determine if the companies are viable as ‘going concerns’ before offering additional government funds. GM’s CEO Rick Wagoner submitted his company’s plans on Friday.

The following is a transcript we obtained of a conversation between Wagoner and President Obama:

Obama: So let’s take a look at this plan.

Wagoner: I like your haircut.

Obama: The plan. I need to see the plan.

Wagoner: Here’s the plan.

Obama: Dude, this is just a napkin. And it has a piece of chicken on it.

Wagoner: I’ll need the chicken back.

Obama: Stop humping my leg.
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Thursday, March 26, 2009

On Komodo Island

Two Komodo dragons were strolling along the lush sugar-apple orchard just on the edge of a hill where the land crested down toward the beach. One of them spoke.

‘You know, we’re lucky, Jane,’ he mused.

‘Why is that, Tim?’ queried the other, with an air of laconic indulgence.

‘Because we live on an island called Komodo, and we happen to be Komodo Dragons. All other Komodo dragons are living in diaspora on the islands of Rinca, Flores, and Gili Motang.’

Jane, clearly exhibiting displeasure at this point, rolled her beady little lizard eyes, and said, ‘No one’s ever used the word diaspora with respect to Komodo Dragons. Not to mention the fact that we Komodo Dragons don’t have access to Wikipedia -- so technically, you’re not even supposed to know any of that. We’re just looking out for falling Indonesian fruit pickers right now, so shut the eff up.’

‘Ooh, there’s one.’

‘Let’s maul the crap out of him.’

‘Yeah.’
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Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Book Review: Random Homeless Guy

This is a review of a new book written by the homeless guy who sells newspapers (that are normally free) while directing traffic at an intersection (that already has efficient, working traffic lights and crosswalks).

But Random Homeless Guy’s book does not concern itself exclusively with his everyday life committing newspaper fraud and stopping cars for no reason. Of course, it does offer a brief memoir of these latter days, but it can best be categorized as an acutely self-conscious piece of metafiction. The narrator repeatedly refers to himself as author and artist and to the process of writing a book, exposing the artifice of his relationship to the story, and opening broad new worlds of reality in the mind of the common reader.

For example, he refers to his literary agent, a middle-aged woman he’d like 'to [unprintable] in the [even more unprintable] with a [yet again, unprintable].' The first three pages are devoted to this highbrow rant against an increasingly irrelevant publishing industry, while the next 200 seem to be pages torn from an old paperback of Little Women. The final half of the volume is just coupon circulars stuck together with mashed potato gravy, while the binding is made of pigeon feathers and banana peals.

On the whole, the author’s first attempt is a disgusting piece of filth that is most likely responsible for your humble reviewer’s coming down with a case of avian flu. In other words, it will probably win the National Book Award.
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Sunday, March 22, 2009

Corruption is Bad, or Is It? Yes it is. Really? Yes

The Pope concluded his tour of Africa this week with calls to rid the continent of corruption and poverty and many other bad things. He is pictured here winning a Chrysler convertible during the half-time show. To sum up his speech in Angola (and taking some liberties with the text, in the interest of limited space and time): ‘Bad things are bad, and should be gotten rid of. Good things are good and we should probably keep them.’

Overshadowing this whole sentiment was the controversy over statements he made earlier in the week over the use of condoms to stem the spread of HIV around the continent, and ultimately lost was the lesser known controversy over corruption.

Transparency International, an anti-corruption agency, asserts that corruption is a major hindrance to development in Africa. [Their headquarters are pictured here. Admittedly, it’s hard to photograph their headquarters.] The Puke has obtained a copy of Transparency International’s Bribe Payer’s Index and other reports -- in exchange for a small payment and mostly non-sexual favors to a low-ranking employee -- and all of the reports basically say that corruption is a major problem, and it is indeed widespread and hurtful.

But Transparency International is not without its detractors. One of these is Translucency International, which offered a murky critique by saying that there is a large shape that looks like corruption, but may just be a lady taking a shower -- it’s just too hard to tell with all that steam. Also jumping into the fray was Transparency’s fiercest critic, Opacity International -- supporter of Robert Mugabe, Dick Cheney, TARP, the former Iron Curtain, the East River, and brick walls everywhere -- which argues that nothing is wrong and everything is, in fact, just fine and always has been, so why don’t you shut up?
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Thursday, March 19, 2009

IMob - 163 911 800

Everyone who knows me knows I have a semi-addictive personality. Maybe a little more than semi. I get hooked on things for a while, abuse them like crack and then dump them like the nerdy girl you took to prom because her Dad had an Iroc Z-28 Camaro and he let me drive it. I have also been known to do this with the same activity more than once. I was really into Texas Hold'em for like a year. I would play online, with friends, in the nude, you name it. I get into comic books every six months. I played Call of Duty 4 on the Xbox 360 for a year straight at least 4 nights a week.

I now have 2 new obsessions:

1. The iPhone. You people dont know what you are missing. The iPhone is clearly the greatest thing ever invented ever in the history of ever inventing something ever and ever. I may put a blog entry getting in more detail about the iPhone at a later date.

2. IMob for the iPhone. This is a free application that lets you take the role of a mobster trying make it in the world of, well, mobbery. Fight people, take them out, buy property, execute missions. You also need to expand your imob to include other imobbers. Please, if you have yourself an iPhone, get this little gem. My friend code is 163 911 800. Invite me and we can both smoke the crackpipe of fake mobbishness together.






PS - My one obsession that will never go away will always be my love of big beautiful breasts. On women.
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Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Getting into the Ice Hotel Market

Many of you may have heard of Sweden's famous ICEHOTEL. Or not. Anyway, it's a hotel made entirely of ice for people who don't like to keep warm. It closes every year after March because -- well, because the damned building melts and evaporates.

Pterodactyl Puke has decided to enter this lucrative market, but we will be offering a surely superior product: an Air Hotel. Yes, a hotel made entirely of air, with a floor made entirely of dirt. But we we're not calling it AIRHOTEL like the pretentious Swedes would. We call it 'Kansas.'

Now just as we were plunging headfirst into this venture, we learned that ICEHOTEL is expanding their portfolio of rich people-swindling products to offer trips to space. So, in order to compete, we will be offering time travel back to the 1980s. We're calling it 'Sweden.'
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Tuesday, March 17, 2009

A Cure for Peanut Allergy: Grow a Pair

A gaggle of geniuses at Duke University have figured out that the cure for life-threatening peanut allergy may be... umm... peanuts. They call their study ‘Operation: Suck It Up and Let’s See What Happens When You Eat Some Peanuts, You Little Friggers.’

They decided to start feeding children afflicted with the horrible condition a tiny bit of peanut flour each day, and they found that the kids actually grew a tolerance to the toxic nut pretty quickly. In other words, the kids stopped being little foam-at-the-mouth, call-911-now-right-now, swollen-lipped crybabies any time someone in the next ZIP code ate a Nutter Butter.

Just ask Angela Duty. She brought her son, Sam Duty, over to Durham, NC, to take part in this revolutionary study, and after a few months they found that little Duty’s lips no longer inflated like circus balloons when he ingested an evil peanut or two. And for now, they have him on non-prescription strength Reese's Pieces.

So next time some little brat brings a PB&J sandwich into school, Little Duty’s face won’t puff up in a giant mess of distended flesh (and spittle and pus, no doubt) to the point where the other little brats point fingers at him and sneer, ‘Ewww DOOOOTEE!’ as he convulses on the cafeteria floor.

Instead, they’ll beat him up because of who he is -- because he picks his nose, because of his Mormon undergarments (assuming he’s Mormon), or because it’s obvious he hasn’t got the grit and the brains to make it later in life, so they might as well beat him into the ground now to prepare him for what’s to come in adulthood -- but thankfully, not because of his allergy. Good for Little Duty.

This is not to say he won’t keel over from salmonella poisoning while stuffing his face with Little Debbie crackers at some point in the future. Yes, the Peanut Menace will get you one way or another.
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Sunday, March 15, 2009

The Quests for Truth and Blood

We are getting bored of reporting on the impending economic disaster and the imminent disintegration of the society of Man.

But the issue still remains, and so for a moment, we’ll concern ourselves with explaining the real reasons behind the massive economic meltdown that will doom you and your children and your children’s children to poverty, a broken-down society, and perhaps mild cannibalism.

[If you don’t have a head for detail, skip down a few paragraphs to The Quest for Blood.]

The Quest for Truth

So who is to blame? You’ve heard a lot about people buying houses that they couldn’t afford and predatory mortgage lenders who offered loan terms that were impossible to meet. But that’s not the cause of the problem. There will always be bad loans and people who can’t pay their bills, but they should never lead to the ruin of our economy and create the apocalyptic conditions for cannibalism down the road.

Rewind back to the days of the Great Depression. In 1933, Congress passed the Glass-Steagall Act, which regulated the way banks did business -- essentially separating investment banks (which took great risks with their capital for higher rates of return) and regular deposit banking. This was to ensure that banks did not use the money in regular people’s bank accounts for crazy speculation in, say, the derivatives markets or in the stock market or in high-yield securitized loan portfolios -- all of which could lead to the demise of our species. We hate to bore you with the details, but essentially, the law was designed to prevent the creation of a Citigroup or an AIG, and for 66 years, it prevented the creation of a giant market of the very same toxic assets that will perhaps be damning us all to living underground and, out of necessity, acquiring a taste for human flesh. In other words, this was a good law.

But in 1999, the Glass-Steagall Act was repealed by a bill called the Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act -- named after the three assholes who introduced it: Sen. Phil Gramm (R-Texas), Rep. Jim Leach (R-Iowa), and Rep. Thomas Bliley (R-Virginia) – and it was passed so overwhelmingly by both houses of Congress that it did not even need the signature of then-president Bill Clinton (D-Penisville), though it received that too. This allowed Traveler’s Group -- an insurance company -- to merge with Citicorp -- a bank -- in order to create what they called a ‘financial supermarket.’ We can only assume all the legislators were entertained by hookers and fed mountains of cocaine while they were assured this bill would not lead to cannibalism and the demise of the human race.

Also, around the same time in the late 1990s, credit default swaps came into being. They were conceived as a way to insure lenders, especially banks, against loan losses. In 2000, Congress passed the Commodity Futures Modernization Act, which exempted credit default swaps from regulation. The act was introduced by Sen. Phil “Anybody see a pattern here?” Gramm (R-Texas), and cheerled by Alan Greenspan, Chairman of the Federal Reserve, who argued that the market would regulate itself because he read as much in the writings of Ayn Rand.

What followed can only be described as a financial orgy as banks took more risks in financial markets, falsely comforted by the fact that they could also buy credit default swaps as insurance. AIG was making large profits by selling credit default swaps well beyond their ability to insure the loans that they covered. Between the years 1999 and 2007 sub-prime loans increased from 5% of all new mortgages to 48%. Holy effing crap! There were a whole lot of other reasons for this, but the main reason is that financial institutions started borrowing more and more money to buy these things, until some of them were borrowing $32 (or more) for every $1 they actually had –- just so they could buy these ridiculous loans. Bear Stearns and Lehman Brothers were two of these. And all the major banks were borrowing at least 25 to 1 to finance the same crap – with the money that regular, hardworking people keep in the bank or in their 401(k)s.

There was another regulation passed during the Great Depression called The Uptick Rule. This was a rule instituted by the SEC to prevent market players from manipulating the value of stocks while selling those same stocks short. It led to the destruction of capital at banks and other financial institutions in 1937, and so the SEC decided to put an end to it. Then, in 2007, the SEC decided capital destruction was cool again, and eliminated the rule. Market manipulators have been destroying bank stocks ever since and bringing the financial system to its knees.

Then came the collapse of Bear Stearns, Lehman Brothers, and the black hole we call AIG. Wachovia and Washington Mutual then contributed with the two biggest bank failures in American history. (Technically, Wachovia didn’t fail because it was bought by Wells Fargo, but the point remains.)


The Quest for Blood

If you’ve read the above paragraphs, congratulations. You are one bored human being.

If you haven’t, let us recap a bit:
It seems that the government had decided sometime in the last 10 years or so that it wanted to bring on another Great Depression, and so repealed every law that had been instituted to prevent exactly that. We admit that 60 or 70 years is a long time and that people forget what exactly the purpose of such laws may have been. So could we suggest maybe a Post-It note be placed on these laws from now on, so that maybe the people in the future will know that they’re really, really important? Or maybe we can put a stamp on certain laws that says, ‘THIS LAW WAS PUT IN PLACE TO PREVENT THE DEMISE OF OUR SPECIES OR POSSIBLE CANNIBALISM. DON’T EFFING REPEAL IT.’

So let us list the people responsible: Senator Phil Gramm (R-Texas), Alan Greenspan, and just about every top executive at AIG, Citigroup, Wachovia, Washington Mutual, Bear Stearns, and Lehman Brothers, every Treasury Secretary from Robert Rubin to Henry Paulson, SEC chairman Christopher Cox, and throw in current Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke, too, who insisted in 2007 and 2008 that the sub-prime crisis would not present much of a problem for the economy.

These people should all be disemboweled and hung by their necks in the middle of every city square in the United States. Their innards should be exposed to the disastrous rays of the sun until they’re baked and cured beyond any semblance of human form and flesh.

You might think that seems a bit harsh. Certainly, they broke no laws. And after all, Alan Greenspan already looks like a rotting corpse, and if the ancient, foul, beaten Earth could walk and talk, it would look and sound like Phil Gramm.

But it is not exaggerating to say that millions of lives have been destroyed -- millions of people have lost their jobs, and millions more have lost their savings in the stock market as a result of what these people have done. That is not even to mention the effect this crisis will have in poor countries, where political instability and famine are sure to be the near-term results. And we cannot yet say that the worst is over. This boulder has been rolling down from the very heights of the highest mountain, and we have no idea where the bottom is, or if the economy and our society can even survive the destruction on the way down. There is no crazed murderer or serial killer languishing in any prison in this country, nor any terrorist hiding in the hills of Afghanistan, who has done damage that even compares to what these people have done.

So we need to pass new laws -– laws that designate these people as Enemies whose existence presents a systemic risk to our economy, to our civilization, and to the human species as a whole. Then, when cannibalism becomes the order of the day, we will be able to look back and at least know that someone was held responsible for our misery.
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Wednesday, March 11, 2009

A Message from Corporate

It has been brought to our attention that our reporting on monkey matters seems a bit biased in the favor of, well, the monkeys. In response to this criticism, we would like to assure our readers that we are indeed loyal to our own species. In the future, we will try to balance both the monkey view and the crazed, fascist anti-monkey view of all news events with equal weight and thoughtful consideration from now on. For those of you who have emailed us about our supposed traitorous bias, we apologize for the big 'GO EFF YOURSELF!' email you may have received in reply. We consider this matter closed.

There is also the matter of non-monkey-related posts offending people. We apologize for these with the utmost sincerity. 'Learning differences' are not matters for ridicule, nor is any other issue involving people who cannot intelligently speak for themselves. It is our mission to defend the weak and the downtrodden whenever any of our evil corporate sponsors are not the ones doing the trodding down.

Last, to our investors, we would like to reassure them that our financial situation is quite strong. Assuming the housing market is doing well, we should be in great shape. And if slavery is legalized in Western Europe in the near future, then some of our investments in that market should really take off as well. Also, our CFO has just received a series of emails from Nigeria promising lots of free money if we would only open a Swiss bank account with what little capital we still carry. It cannot possibly go wrong.
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Don't Hug Him to Death


A Texas school for the mentally challenged has come under intense scrutiny this week by local law enforcement. It appears that for the past year, a group of employees has been setting up a version of Fight Club among the school's inhabitants. You just can't make this stuff up.
We, at Pterodactyl Puke, wanted to get to the bottom of this wacky story, so we sent our own Angry Max on a junket to Texas to speak to the students of the school. Angry Max was able to send the tape of his discussion.
One particular student was very open and took time out of his busy schedule (which included nap and pudding hour) to speak to Angry Max. The following is a direct interpretation of what most likely would have been said:
Angry Max: Jimmy, (name changed to protect the innocent minded) thanks for being able to speak with Ptero today. Wow, that is a pungent odor coming from where you are sitting, what is that?
Jimmy: I don't smell anything at all attributed to a lack of wiping after doin #2.
Angry Max: Ok. Now in relation to the fighting that has been going on for the past year..
Jimmy: You mean gym?
Angry Max: Yes, gym. Can you tell us about your experiences that you and your friends have gone through in "gym"?
Jimmy: Well, we all seem to be stronger than the average human. I don't know what you would call that but we have some form of extra power, completely unlabeled by middle America. A certain type of strength.
Angry Max: um......
Jimmy: I would say most of us have grown accustomed to hugging as a move.
Angry Max: Hugging? That doesnt sound so bad.
Jimmy: Would you like to me to show you how we do it?
Angry Max: Ummm, sure, go ahead. How bad could a simple hugging be?
Jimmy: Ok, here we go.
Angry Max: My, that is a strong grip. You can let go now. No seriously, let go. I can't breathe. *Gasp*, I am blacking out......
We haven't heard from Max for a few days. He missed his flight yesterday. Calls to the school have gone unanswered. I am sure he is fine.
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Monday, March 9, 2009

Are Chimpanzees Evolving Beyond Us?

It has been no secret that humanity is slipping from atop the evolutionary totem pole. If you watch the ever-plummeting stock market or if you’ve sat through a miserable few minutes of Dancing with the Stars, you’ll know that we as a species are no longer all that impressive. It’s nothing to be ashamed of –- we’ve had a good run of it -– but the whole thing just isn’t working out anymore. The only question, really, is which species will be taking our place to become the new lords of the Earth. We here at the Puke still firmly believe that a race of jaded, semi-reptilian aliens has been staking out our little planet for a suitable vacation home, but in the last few weeks a new candidate has emerged to fill the power vacuum. And that candidate is, of course, our own close cousin the Chimpanzee.

We’ve all heard about Travis the Chimp, who, just after bellowing the cry of bloody revolution on behalf of Monkeykind, was coldly shot down by a human police officer. But what most don’t realize is that Travis, though expert in the art of violence, was merely a member of the B-team and not in the vanguard of the coming Chimpish Intifada.

Familiarize yourselves with Santino, a macho alpha male who lords over a harem of six female chimps, all of them imprisoned in a Swedish zoo since birth. Santino prefers love poetry to idle gossip, Cuban cigars (if properly rolled) to ripe bananas, and a white hat to a dark tan, but he also prefers armed struggle to being gawked at by a bunch of slobbering Swedes. Santino begins his day by gathering rocks and planning attacks against human visitors to the zoo, finally unloading his stockpile on any Swede he deems an enemy. The victim’s only crime may be walking too close to Santino’s troop of concubines, or just simply possessing a stupid smile that rubs Santino the wrong way. (Incidentally, Santino was cruelly castrated for this behavior, and has become yet another martyr for the Monkey Cause.) But the point is that Santino knew there would be trouble, and he prepared for it.

Experts say this kind of behavior is evidence of planning among the lower primates, and that chimps in the wild have been known not only to stockpile ammunition and fashion weapons from stones, but also to fortify positions and plan sophisticated group attacks.

What the experts don’t talk about is how far along these simians are in their plans, and what sort of infrastructure they’ve built up. Do they bail out banks when necessary, or do they let the free market solve its own problems? Are they Keynesians or Supply-siders? Do they have a health care plan? Dammit, you stupid experts and so-called journalists, we have to know these things. Well, we did have to know these things when we still had a civilization that was still worth the cheap plastic it’s made of. So, carry on stockpiling ammunition and fortifying your homes, but do it quickly –- the Chimpanistas are coming to foreclose on our dominion.
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Friday, March 6, 2009

FaceBook's Popularity/Sympathy Contest


Jenny is considering going to the gym.

Jenny is tired and can't wait for the weekend.

Jenny thinks that milk was a bad idea.

Jenny hasn't taken a good dump since the surgery.

What exactly are people hoping to accomplish by telling us about every little thing when they update their status? I believe a portion of it comes from seeking sympathy and attention. Another portion is to see how popular you really are by measuring the number and quality of responses. On another level, people may believe that everyone is very interested in what they are doing every 10 minutes. Then you have the gossip types who can't wait to lay everything on you. "Did you see that Jenny can't produce a solid log? I can't wait to get more info to tell all the yentas that I know." And finally, the smallest portion are people jest effing around (I am in this grouping).

How many status changes have you seen that have alluded to some potential horrific or sad event without telling you the whole story? Are people that desperate to find out if their friends truly care about their own personal crap?

Stewie just got back from the hospital. Oh my God, what happend to Stewie? In essence, Stewie is hoping for a cadre of people to demand to know just what the heck happened to Stewie and if he's doing ok.

Did he get the Fusilli Jerry dislodged from his nethers?








Take your statuses a little more seriously people. Stop telling me that you are hanging out with your kids. We don't care when you get to work or when you are leaving. If you have news, spill it, don't make me have to ask you what happened, because I won't.

Make me laugh or put something interesting up there, just dont tell me about the consistency of your cat's latest puke, b/c I don't give a shit.
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Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Million Dollar Baby

If you’ve ever played Backgammon with a 4-year-old, you’ll know that it can make you feel pretty good about yourself and maybe make you feel smarter than you really are. There's something about dominating a lesser opponent that elicits a mindset of tranquility and contentedness in a man like nothing else can. Also, kids say stupid things often enough that you can use it for a steady source of comedic material.

But if you play long enough, the youngster’s game starts to evolve before your eyes as he develops new understanding. He soon reveals himself to be some kind of prodigy, Backgammon’s Chosen One, as foretold by the prophets, placed on Earth to rethink and revolutionize the strategies of the game, and to broaden its appeal, bringing it out of the nursing homes and to the masses, making it popular among people under the age of a hundred. This could be what he was meant for, and you’ve discovered it for him –- at such a young age! He will soon outgrow you in backgammon acuity, and you’ll present no challenge for him at all. He'll need new and better competition and a master of the game to hone his skill and slake his unslakable thirst for Backgammon wisdom. Fame, glory, and wealth are right around the corner. It’s profoundly satisfying to have discovered such a great talent! You can’t help but feel proud, and you realize you have to act on this immediately, so you say something like: ‘Let’s play basketball now. And this time, I’m not gonna take it easy on you. Also, afterward, I'm selling you into slavery, you little punk.'
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Sunday, March 1, 2009

Hog Duty in Iowa

Generally speaking, ideal conditions of living must be achieved as a function of both time and place. For example, you may be extremely fortunate to have been born in Beverly Hills, CA, but maybe not if you were born there in 1769 as the bastard son of a Franciscan monk. That would be an example of being lucky in place but not in time. Alternatively, you could have been born during the Florentine Renaissance –- but in an Ottoman slave camp. Time: yay. Place: boo.

There are, of course, varying degrees of luck with respect to both variables. If pig odor is a problem where you live, then it’s pretty fair to say it doesn’t matter what the time is. The Age of Reason or 4 PM last Sunday would both smell like shit. Read Candide all you like, and you’ll still have trouble being optimistic. In fact, spoil your senses watching TV, smoking crack, and eating chocolate cake while dancing to Hannah Montana songs, and still, the swirling stench of pig poop will be ruling your life like an abusive foster parent.

So, in order to help out some people who’ve been screwed by the Fates of Place but not so much of Time, it makes perfect sense that the budget bill passed by Congress last week sets aside $1.8 million for ‘swine odor and manure management.’ Sure, make fun of Congress all you want for writing poop into law, but if you lived in olfactory hell, downwind from a pack of squealing shit machines, you’d almost certainly find no humor in any of this -- and neither do we.

Jay Harmon, Professor of Agriculture at Iowa State University (with a Ph.D. in some kind of shit), is a man who takes his duty very seriously. He has perfected the methods of ‘management’ in the Poo Sciences and really thinks the whole problem can be flushed down the toilet if we throw the right crap at it. He suggests things like not living near a pig farm (which we’ve already discussed), planting shrubs, installing ventilators, something called ‘broadcasting manure’ (which I’m pretty sure Cable News has already taken care of), building walls, chimneys, storage covers, etc, etc, etc... Well, we don’t have to get into all that poop jargon to know that this guy knows what time it is when it comes to chocolate hog patties, and we can feel safe that our tax dollars are well spent.

So put down Candide and the crack pipe, and for god's sake stop bouncing to that teeny bopper crap -- your Luck of Place is about to get better. But seriously, only a little bit. You still live in Iowa, near a pig farm.
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