Tag Archives: parody

The Lonely Kid’s Guide to a Donald Trump-Themed Birthday


Jesus, look at you. It’s your tenth birthday party, and nobody even showed up. I remember when I turned ten. It was great! We all rode speedboats, and my dad got me twenty minutes with a high-end prostitute. But you, you’re just sad.

Who knows why your party blows? Maybe your parents are idiots, or you’re just a plain old loser. Luckily, it doesn’t have to be that way. With my party planning tips, you’ll never have to worry about being ignored on your birthday again.

1) Like any other investment, this party is gonna require some capital upfront. Simply ask your father for a small loan of one million dollars. This will allow you to cover all the expenses for the filet mignons, string quartet, and Prada goodie bags, while still having enough left over to give yourself a modest six-figure bonus.


2) I’ve never thrown a party without a piñata. It combines two of my favorite pastimes: beating animals with a stick, and watching poor people pick up food off the ground. To save a few bucks on your budget, just run into the party store and grab whichever piñata you like. Let the Mexicans pay for it.


3) Put flyers with my face all over town. Once you’ve attached the Donald to your party, turnout won’t be an issue. In fact, it will almost be like you’re having two parties at once. One will be with all your loyal, hard-working American friends, and the other will be filled with of jealous nincompoops who only showed up because they have nothing better to do. As long as each guest meets the three-gift minimum, let them all in.


I’ve got a talent for bringing people together. I really do.

4) No matter how balls-to-the-wall awesome a party is going, it will reach a certain point where guests start to wonder, “Does the birthday boy have a big penis? I’m not sure I want to stay any longer if he doesn’t have a big penis.” To ease their minds, carry around a birthday candle while assuring guests that it’s actually a full-size candle. I’ll make your hands look yuuuuuge, everyone’ll know your schlong is worth sticking around for.


5) So the party went perfect, but now you’ve got to deal with the pain of the cleanup. Are those stains on the sofa from red wine or blood? Honestly, it’s not worth finding out. Save yourself the hassle by declaring bankruptcy on your home. It’s a totally legal business maneuver where you take your problems and throw them far, far away. When the other kids are blowing out their birthday candles in the months to come, they’ll all be wishing they could be as good of a dealmaker as you.

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A Sneak Peak at 2016’s Hottest New Broadway Shows



This is guaranteed to be the show that none of your friends will be able to get tickets for—because nobody is allowed to see it. With music, lyrics, and book by a crotchety old hermit known only as Greasy Steve, Anthropophobia is the hottest recluse since Bobby Fischer. Best of all, since no one knows what it is about, Anthropophobia is age appropriate for the whole family. Just try not to get too close to the theater, or Steve will pelt you with glass shards.



A unique twist on the popular jukebox musical format, Tubthumping celebrates the inspired sound of Chumbawamba by performing their one hit over and over again. You’ll hear the title song so many times: sped up, slowed down, and even a reggae version!

And did we mention that the musical is for some reason set during The Great Depression?



Taking a cue from critical and commercial smash Hamilton, this musical tells the story of U.S. President William Henry Harrison. Its revolutionary shortened format reflects the life of Old Tippecanoe, a poorly remembered leader who died after barely a month in office. According to early reviews, Harrison is so fantastic, that few will even mind shelling out hundreds of dollars to see show that lasts for sixteen minutes.

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12 Things You Only Understand If You’re Dating a Gangster from the 1920s


Cuz you know how it is…

  1. That moment of panic when he comes home with lipstick on his collar, and the wave of relief when it turns out to just be the blood of a squealer.gangster1

  2. The mystery of how he’s always able to have a lit cigar in his mouth, even when he’s sleeping or in the shower.gangster2

  3. You beg him for months to see that new rom-com in theaters, but once he finally says yes, he gets sentenced to five years in prison.gangster3

  4. He makes you hide a flask in your garter when you go out, since he doesn’t believe restaurants can legally serve alcohol.gangster4

  5. When you wear a tight-fitting dress, and he shouts out, “Boy oh boy, get a load of them gams!”gangster 5

  6. The weekly ritual of bae hiding in the closet while you lie to the police about his whereabouts.          gangster6

  7. How grumpy he gets when you tell him that your first-born is a girl, and not a boy like you promised.gangster7

  8. That time you gave him an iPhone for his birthday, and he just stared at it and said, “I do not know what this is.”                                 gangster8

  9. Right as you’re about to go shopping, your ride gets blown up by a car bomb.gangster9

  10. The judgmental looks you get from so-called “friends” who question why you’re dating someone born in the nineteenth century.gangster10

  11. Having to put up with bloody murders of rival mob bosses on every religious holiday (really, Gino, can’t we have one Pentecost without the garrote wire?).                    gangster11

  12. How, despite all the little problems and literal impossibility of your relationship, you love him no matter what.gangster12


(All GIFS courtesy of GIPHY)
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My Cover Letter to the National Rifle Association


Dear ladies and germs of the National Rifle Association,

Hi there! My name is Doctor Danny, but my hunting buddies call me ‘El Poopador.’ I’m your next Grassroots Coordinator! Let me tell you why.

I have to admit, I think we have a major problem with guns in our country. There simply aren’t enough of them! When it comes to gun rights, I think the founding fathers said it best. “Sorry I accidentally shot your friend with my gun,” said George ‘The First President’ Washington to Ben ‘The Second President’ Franklin, “but don’t worry, he was only a slave.”

Sure, guns are loud and scary, but you know what’s even scarier than guns? That’s right, immigrants! For me, immigrants are extra scary, since I’m not actually sure what “immigrant” means. I once started reading an article about it, but I ran out of apple juice that day. I fall asleep if I don’t have my juice.

This goes without saying, but I love camouflage outfits. I hate when people can see me; it violates my rights as an American. Granted, if I’m wearing my camo jacket at the mall, I might be visible to other shoppers. But for a second maybe, just maybe, those people are totally uncertain of what they’re seeing. Am I predator or prey, light or shadow, man or anthropomorphic tree?

My involvement with the NRA would also help cover up the fact that I possess hideously shrunken genitalia. To the naked eye, my nether-regions are perfectly smooth. Medical experts say this is likely because both my parents are G.I. Joe dolls (that’s right, I come from a long line of American heroes)! The only time I’m actually able to spot my little fellow is when I’m peering through the scope of a sniper rifle, which I’m sure you have plenty of.

I am a proud college graduate, having spent four years watching Monsters University. As you would expect, I am highly proficient in all aspects of Microsoft Office, thouGH SOMETIMES I HAVE TRoubLE FIGURING OUt how to uSE CAPs lock. But my typing is accurate about 84% of the time, which should be pretty good for yOU GUys, amirite?

To sum things up, I’m just a cool dude dedicated to the pro-gun crusade. If it came down to it, I would even be willing to die for the freedom to bear arms, just like Presidents Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy. And as an NRA employee, I would try my best to make many others do the same.

Anywho, give me a heads-up when the NRA decides to hire me. I’ll be out fucking around in the woods. Just holler, I’ll hear you.

Your friend,

El Poopador

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Shocking Details from the Original ‘House of Cards’ Script!


Assuming you haven’t been living under a rock the past few years, you’ve at least heard of House of Cards, if not binged watched it in your own bed. While the Netflix smash hit takes inspiration from the Michael Dobbs novels and BBC miniseries of the same name, it has truly blossomed into a force of its own.

Of course, American showrunner Beau Willimon started out with a radically different idea of what House of Cards would be, though many of these original ideas never made it to screen. Perhaps the most shocking difference is how often the writers had Frank Underwood say the name of the show–56 times in the first season alone!

Check out some snippets of the original House of Cards below:

1. Peter Russo enters the belly of the beast.

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2. Frank takes a moment to relax and enjoy himself.

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3. Frank visits Freddy’s Ribs.

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4. Frank uses his magic to sway Congress.

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007 Borrows My Magic Bullet

James Bond

**MI6 Superspy James Bond strolls into my house, grabs my Magic Bullet**

Me: Uh, James?

Bond: So this is Q-Branch’s latest contraption, eh?

Me: That’s just my Magic Bullet.

Bond: A Magic Bullet to stop the Koreans? Seems like a long shot.

Me: Well, I mean, it’s basically just a mini blender.

Bond: Does it have an ejector seat?

Me: It can make salsa in like, four seconds.

Bond: Hmm. Should help me blend in.

Me: You’re not taking that with you, right?

Bond: I think I’ll give it a whirl.

Me: Please don’t break it.

Bond: I’ll use it for everything from purée to Z.

Me: You’re deflecting with puns.

Bond: Maybe I’m rough around the edges, but deep down I’m a smoothie.

Me: What?

**A belly-dancer assassin leaps out of the shadows. Bond smashes my Magic Bullet over her head**

Bond: I’m afraid you and I never did mix, Margarita.

Me: Her name-tag says, “Catherine.”

Bond: They need me back in London.

Me: You can’t just leave!

Bond: I have a mandatory sexual harassment workshop.

Me: How’d you get involved in that?

Bond: Let’s just say it lawsuits me.

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Help Wanted: Classic Rock DJs

classic rock

Hey there, music fans! 97.3 FM WDIK—The Dick!—wants you! We’re on the lookout for new rock-and-roller soldiers to fill out our lineup of party-hardy deejays, after our old staff accidentally locked themselves in our promotional van on a hot summer day. Are you ready to serve up the greatest hits of the 70s, 80s, and more? Do you have the heavy mettle to continue the legacy of greats such as Butch Delvecchio, Dirty Donna Henderson, and The Cheese? Heck yeah! In that case, let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to get on The Dick:

Job Duties and Responsibilities

  • Playing the greatest rock tunes nonstop, over a reasonable 30 hour shift.
  • Offering up treasured family heirlooms as prizes for call-in movie trivia contests.
  • Inserting wacky sound effects into on-air interviews and crank calls. Dead air is bad air, so don’t be stingy with that fart button.
  • Slipping in a song from the 1990s every once in a while, just to make people feel old.
  • Knocking back beers all day long without the wife around—Gotcha! See, we’re already having fun.
  • Not touching the intern’s boobs. Please. All the callers on our request line are lawyers, and they’re no longer accepting Styx tickets as compensatory damages.


  • A goatee to provide some much-needed chin definition.
  • The ability to announce an upcoming Bob Seger song with semi-realistic enthusiasm.
  • A PhD in Art History, along with at least five publications in accredited academic journals; or just a high school diploma.
  • A passion for sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll that is surpassed only by your love of sitting in a small, dark room.
  • The denial that your best days are behind you.

Materials to include in your application:

  • Your résumé/CV (this is a fun space, so please be sure to use the Jokerman font).
  • A recording of yourself reciting all the names of Rolling Stone magazine’s top 100 guitarists of all time, without taking a breath.
  • A 2015 calendar, in which all the weekdays are covered with frowny faces but all the weekend boxes read, “Oh yeah!”
  • A bottle of Jim Beam.

If interested, please submit your resume and application materials to radiodicks973@aol.com.

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Prospectors of New York


What does success mean to you?

“Wooo-eeee! Thar’s gold in dem mountins, I tell ya! Chunks in da river as large as a heffer’s teat, ‘n’ da water tastes sweeter dan any udder place on dis ‘ol green Earth. Dat’s whar I’m gonna be a-makin’ my fortune. Soon nuf I’ma be sittin’ ina manshun in muh Sundee best, sippin’ on a cuppa brandy ‘n’ havin’ new socks broughta me whenevertime I please.”


How long have you two been friends?

“Best get dat thar fire goin’, or we ain’t gonna last da night. Y’all ever know da Cold dat chills a man dawn to da bone? Took two-a muh own sons. Goes along wit da hunger, I reckon. Rocks ‘n’ snow ain’t gonna do a darn thang ta fill a man’s belly. Sometime got no udder choice dan ta gnaw on ya own freezed-up toes.”


If you could go back and give yourself one piece of advice, what would it be?

“Say y’all headed up to da Black Hills? A smart man would steer clear of them parts, yessiree. Nothin’ left dar but the ghosts a near tree-thousand Lakota warryers lookin’ fa revenge. No way in tarnation I be diggin’ up them parts, ‘less I’m lookin’ fa one less scalp on dis here skull a mine.”


What gets you out of bed in the morning?

“My my, we don’ get too many-a you lady-folk in dese parts. Whyn’t ya come on closer ta ‘ol Bill here, share muh blanket? Many-a-night I siddup longin’ for da soft caress of a woman’s touch. Wait, whar ya goin’ so soon, clementine?”


What memory is always guaranteed to make you smile?

*unintelligible grunting*

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