I would rather be inside a besieged embassy right now donning a certain Danish cartoon T-shirt than discussing Benghazi again, but if six months of endless headlines haven’t really netted you anything meaningful, please stop. People with a reading comprehension above a squirrel don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Make love not scandals. Besides, new scandals are emerging with teeth. Clue Alert: they’re being covered by something called "the media".

I won't whack near any shrubbery here: the worst song ever written, in my fleeting egotistical opinion, is "Tonight’s the Night" by Rod Stewart. Why this tune? Why not any selections from the Michael Bolton or Bon Jovi catalogues? Why pick on Rod?

As I think about my life, my thoughts turn to the whole "Legacy" thing. What do I actually leave with my friends and relatives when Momzilla pulls me kicking and screaming into the next world? Will people even remember me 15 minutes after I’m gone? Probably not, with the exception of Mikko passing a rag over his forehead and saying "whew, thank Darwin that’s over."

Flagstaff, AZ—Mother Road Brewing made the fatal mistake of informing The Daily Discord about an important event. On February 5th they combined forces with Oregon’s Deschutes Brewery to brew one spectacular Super Brew. It’s kind of like that Wonder Twins thing, but instead of rings they use vats. Wonder Twins activate, form of ethanol! Video preview at the end of the article!

As I walked into the place, I felt like Frodo Baggins far from the Shire. It was a large hall full of people and every man there (as well as some of the women) towered over me. My height is on the short side of average (5'7 when I'm not slouching), but this was ridiculous. I estimated 15% of them to be past 6'2 as well. What the heck? I then realized where I was and relaxed. Of course. These were kind giants, stoned and peaceful. I was at a Karl Denson concert in the Orpheum Theatre, a natural gathering place for the 21st century hippiejock. I was among friends.

Flagstaff, AZ (aka, Poverty with a View)—Most people in America and the majority of the rest of the world are striving to be rich, but they’re overlooking the truly wonderful advantages of being flat broke. For instance, you will have more free time because your schedule will not be bogged down with things like trips, vacations, shopping, or eating. Things like gaining too much weight—no problem. And no one will ever asks you to borrow money! Hell, they won’t even ask you to babysit for fear you might eat their children.

The truth is elusive these days, but thank goodness you all have a spoof news blogger to rely on for your information. I received considerable backlash from my liberal friends recently when I warned Obama about attempting any form of gun control. I suggested, rather adamantly here, to avoid the whole thing unless he called it the Let’s Only Disarm Progressive Liberals Act or some such.

What are we to make of the likes of a Ronald Reagan or a Margaret Thatcher? We have trouble understanding what happened in yesterday’s news cycle, let alone decades ago. For instance Thatcher headed the Inquisition and started the Black Plague, while Reagan was most known for implementing alternate-street-parking here in the states, right?

Against my better judgment I decided it was time to visit Zano again.  Might have had something to do with the constant "Hey, Bald Tony, I’ve visited you 635 times since you last visited me!"  Well, I do enjoy Flagstaff. It is not as fully loaded as Vegas, but it more than holds its own as a great little tourist town...despite Zano’s residency there.

I love picking on the Media Research Center (MRC). I chose not to put mock quotes around the word "center", because they are the center...of insanity. I am a subscriber so I never miss one compelling post from the heart of the paranoia realms. For me the MRC, headed by Brent Bozell, equates to endless hours of free entertainment. Yeah, this is one media watchdog group that should probably be put down as rabid.

We stand on the cusp of a new era where man and machine will finally merge, creating an ultimate hive mind that does nothing but stare at cute cat pictures on the internet. While hover boards, flying cars, and moon bases seem distant dreams, there is something to be said for having a device that fits in your pocket and brings you porn on demand.

Tucson, AZ—The shocking truth behind the link between dolphin abuse and Thai porn restaurants was recently discovered by Discord staff (quite by accident). I assure you we had no ideas those big black silhouettes of naked women had anything to do with porn. But with this story broke, the staff pledged not to rest until every porn establishment in the city was thoroughly investigated. It will mean long, late hours, with an increased expense budget, but that’s the dedication you’ve come to expect from this group.

Mrs. Crank has of late voiced an opinion that we should be thinking about getting a firearm for personal protection. My first reaction was to ask, who was she and what had she done with the original Mrs. Crank? Visions of pod people and dopplecrankers danced in my head.

As usual the GOP needs a little help identifying scandals. Their latest feigned outrage involves Obama’s drone program. Republicans turning against the drone program is kind of like...well, picture Jacque Cousteau dropping dynamite into a lake just to watch all the fish float.

New York, NY—In an unprecedented move, Amazon.com has purchased all the major grocery store chains throughout the United States and Canada. Soon after they will all be closing all of these other companies so that online sales will reign supreme! Many citizens were shocked by this development and became concerned that their family would go hungry, but Amazon quickly reassured them their fear was both unwarranted and unauthorized.

"WILLIE!" The sound jolted me awake from my catnap. I was momentarily disoriented: Where the hell was I? Apparently I had been seatbelted into the passenger side of an automobile traveling at a great speed ... and here it came again: "FUCKIN' WILLIE! YEEE-HAAA!"

Washington, DC—The Senate outlined the unilateral concession of men today, which will allow women to proclaim victory in the Battle of the Sexes. The news came as quite a shock to those wealthy established Romney supporter-types, but the true effects of this legislative proclamation may have even deeper ramifications for men and their relative sperm counts.

You are traveling through another political dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of lies, a slanderous land of imagination. Next stop, the TwiRight Zone! Picture this if you Wills…George Wills. Sorry, but Mr. Winslow wants me to start warning readers before they click the read more button. It cuts down on complaints—at least marginally so.

Vatican City–The Return to the Papal Side. On Monday, February 11th, Pope Benedict XVI looked out his window, saw his shadow, and promptly announced there would only be two more weeks of his papacy. As the Pope scurried back into his chambers, many were left plagued with questions. The job of being Pope is a lifetime commitment much like owning a pet, serving as a Supreme Court Justice...or, as I have come to discover, certain Discord internships.

Today I rant on a subject many know to be true, but few will utter. Most remain fearful of the associated politically correct backlash. Even The Daily Discord initially reviewed this submission and said, "Ahh, Cranko, I danno about dis one." Who am I kidding? These schmucks will post anything.

Washington, DC—Last night, the rotting corpses of several deceased U.S. presidents reanimated themselves in an attempt to stabilize the economy from beyond the grave and "to put an end to this Pirate Bay thing."

You can catch the first part of this post here. Today I will continue to dismantle Republican thought (oxymoron alert) faster than our annual Parkinson’s Jenga match. I will slay the Rovian Dragon, pop the Foxian bubble of non-reality, and still make it back to Hops on Birch for hoppy hour.

If I were to sit down and calculate the actual fluid ounceage of Olympia beer willingly dumped into my system during my 20s, it would surely make me barf. I would probably have to pee real bad as well. It's the water, honest. Olympia was originally manufactured by an independent brewery in Tumwater, Washington, founded before the turn of the century...

I have called for the Republican Party to disband. I don’t make this statement lightly, nor am I kidding myself that their reign of terror is by any means over. It’s all just wishful blogging. But if you call for reform for a decade and it only gets worse...tootles. Don’t let the Capitol Building doors hit you on the ass on the way out. Really, those steps are steep.

Washington, DC—Nearly a dozen well-armed and unwashed men have gathered at a local pub in our capitol, demanding the President protect their 2^nd Amendment rights. This group is coming at things from a different angle. They believe very soon Americans will need, "All the weapons and Coors products they can get their hands on!"  This growing movement, calling themselves the Bath Salts Brigade, fears the Zombie Apocalypse is long overdue.

I got an email today from Reince Preibus, or whatever the F his name is, the head of the GOP. It seems that they now want to hear from the average Republicans—you know, people with real jobs—about how they can improve the party’s platform. I will now relate to youse’ my rather Cranky reply:

Here’s what makes me crazy! ...well, besides my diagnosis. During any given news cycle some source article or another somewhere on the web is immediately translated into something resembling political pink slime (PPS).  This new version of reality is then disseminated through Fox News, AM radio and any number of social sites for the purpose of perpetuating an easily dismissible false narrative. An example? How about: Godzilla Sighted Near Coastal City shows up on Twitter as Is Obama Weak on Radioactively Enlarged Reptiles?

A man must possess standards. I never had a big brother growing up, but my buddies and I knew older guys in school that were concerned enough with our upbringing to pass along whatever nuggets of knowledge they could. To these men I am ever grateful. Without their help, I never would have known truths like this one: every day, Kenny Loggins wakes up, hops out of bed, sits down in his kitchen, and eats a big fat hairy gorilla weiner for breakfast. EVERY day. Where else is information like this supposed to come from? It might have taken me YEARS to figure that out on my own and I shudder to think what my record collection would look like today.

2012 is over, thank the Lord. Every year for the past five, I thought the next year just HAD to be better. How did that work out? Not so good. I sincerely hope this year will actually be better than the last, but ah-aint-a-holdin-mah-breth. Here are my predictions for 2013, which has implications for the global economy, rock & roll, and comedy bloggers everywhere.

Have you ever stopped at Prescott’s Whiskey Row? For those unfamiliar with the southwest, Prescott is a town nestled in a mountainous section of central Arizona. There’s a time I would have loved this rustic row of bars...er, like shortly after it debuted in 1877. But there’s at least one place on that block worthy of a stop. The Palace Saloon is old, historic, and quite haunted. It’s also the focus of The Ghost Blunder’s latest para-abnormal investigation.

I am aghast and, worse yet, wrong about something. I did not think Obama would dare take shots at the 2nd Amendment (pardon the gun). Do his suggested reforms sound reasonable? Of course. But who cares? You should never have hinted at gun reform, Mr. President. Now you’re going to have to pry shit from their cold dead hands. WTF?! This may be your dumbest move ever...well, besides your decision to not allow Texas to secede.

Collapsing Shack, AZ—Life forms from the distant planet Blog arrived on Earth last week only to discover the Mayan Apocalypse was a complete bust. The Blogganinians, a race of evolved gecko-like creatures, were quite shocked to find the Earth still functioning as usual and they were even more annoyed to find the human/feline alliance still as strong as ever.

This is just a rant, albeit a funny one, so sorry ahead of time. In a recent Weekly Standard article, Fred Barnes begged the question, "Will the press ever give Obama tough coverage?" The answer is sure...just as soon as Obama does something that doesn’t make any sense in response to the worst economic crisis in a century. For endless examples of things that wouldn’t make sense, try any Fred Barnes article.

I have cats, two. One is a fat old, crotchety female. The other, male, is a one-year-old walking bag of shedding-fur. I like cats, for one main reason: Steven Hawking couldn’t find the infinitesimal shit they give about anything. I love that. If I wanted some smelly drooly stupid animal to act as if it were a new appendage, I would get a dog. Dogs are for people who need that unconditional love. It’s like living with a two year old for twenty years. No thanx. Bad enough I have to deal with Zano visiting now and again.

What the hell happened? NOTHING happened, that's what happened. Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ, what a boring apocalypse. With all the hype that's been building up, you'd think the show would be a little better. But no, it was just another Friday night in Flagstaff. There weren't even any good bands downtown!

So let me get this straight, you’re blocking Chuck Hagel’s nomination because he’s smart and insightful? There’s really no place left in Republican politics for someone with such characteristics? Whereas it’s true that, off hand, I can’t think of many Republicans who have those traits, I didn’t think they were an automatic disqualifier. Fact alert: Chuck Hagel would make a great Defense Secretary and the rest of you would make great psych patients.

Why listen to the Grand Old Party at all? You might think we’re silencing some important voices, but as it turns out not so much. This isn’t about the 1st Amendment. They can keep talking, I just don’t think listening has proven horribly productive. Sure people listen to the psych patient during the Haldol injection, but shouldn’t we be focusing on the hold so no one gets hurt initiating the restraint?

Here are some of the dos and don’ts when driving around the Phoenix area

1. First, learn to pronounce the city name properly; it’s FEE-NICKS. There are other names to learn such as Awatukee (Ah-wa-Too-Kee) but that will be included in the advanced (Core-ss).

Both D and R believe, rather strongly, that their counterparts are certifiably insane. So who’s right? Liberals are finally fighting for what they believe in, but their ideological drift in recent years has been relatively small. And, unfortunately, they still tend to elect presidents who govern slightly right. Meanwhile, the GOP will go down in history as moving so far right they’re now sending back pictures as they pass the Ort Cloud on the outer edge of our solar system.

In an attempt to compete with media giants like The Onion, Fox News, and Quilting Monthly, The Daily Discord disclosed they will be turning to black magic to increase their ratings. The Discord’s CEO, Pierce Winslow, told the press, "I only resort to satanic rituals when absolutely necessary...you know, to maintain power, or if my stocks are tanking, or if some ass face unfriended me on Facebook."

Well, finally this election bullshit is over. You people give me a goddamn headache. As if it remotely matters which puppet we elect. Remember: Whoever you vote for, a politician wins. Pleasant dreams.

In social site land I joined We Survived Bush. You’ll Survive Obama on The Left, and NewsBusters on the Right. It’s been really interesting to watch the GOP create reality faster than a video game programmer on crack. If you start with a premise completely devoid of facts, it’s fun to see where the argument ends up...usually in that magical alley near Hogwarts, or is it Outer Narniastan?

I sit here today with a heavy heart, a fogged mind, and one hell of a headache. After barely recovering from the tragic turn of events on Election Failure Day, I am faced with yet another piece of the puzzle from Uh-mericuh—a land without liberty, a land without riches, and now…a land without Twinkies. I was not ready for yet another blow to my rather tenuous grasp on sanity, but this one really takes the cake (sorry).

Records are great. You youngsters call it vinyl, us old folks call them records, or LPs. Vinyl is what your car seats are made out of, or a raincoat. I have records by a band called The Raincoats, but I don't think a band called The Car Seats exists. I'll have to Google it.

I love the Republican version of a scandal. "When did Obama know Benghazi was a terrorist attack not an extremist attack? Obama’s phrasing is misleading, edited, and those two words are arguably not even synonyms! Throw the book at him...yeah, the Thesaurus! Aim for the groin!" I remember the good old days when scandals involved tens of thousands of people dying over presidential lies. Ahh, memories. These days the GOP just plays some dubious game of pin the fail on the donkey.

Set the Way-Back Machine to the end of the Clinton years, a time of great prosperity, where we find an interesting juncture. It was a time when some quirk of fate sent us down the path to the dark side. As a green prophet once told us, once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. It’s sort of like, once you go black you never go back. In our case, the downfall all started with, of all things, a cigar. Let Freud wrestle with that one.

Dear Fox News

I be dribnk since we looz Ohio, hav head prop up on cat, so this be best I typ so deal.

Hannity say polls rong. Oreilly say polls rong. Legs and zooms all say polls rong. Eric sed polls rong. Little Bush lady say polls rong. I think OK polls rong, we win!

The human brain has billions of neurons working in harmony through both chemical and electrical messages—each neuron is in sync, each one is informed, instructed, and orchestrated in an unparalleled fashion. How has the GOP so completely shutdown such a magnificent machine?

Screw the election, I want to take a moment to talk to you about an important subject, nerds. Nerds are not sexy. Sorry, ladies, if you are an attractive single woman who owns a "Nerds Are Sexy" t-shirt, you should come over to my house. My roommates go to bed early and I have the director’s cut of Buckaroo Banzai always playing in the background. Bring tequila.

CDC, Atlanta—Scientists at the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta are set to announce on Friday a link between televised political ads and the recent nationwide outbreak of lung infection. A spokesperson at the CDC, Eileen DuBonnet, said to expect more details at Friday’s press conference, but that the findings are "based on surveys taken by over 18,000 citizens who have fallen ill at some point during the past two months." These victims, according to DuBonnet, are experiencing symptoms ranging from a "dry, hacking cough," to, "thoughts of suicide."

Arkham, MA—Good evening, gentle readers. My name is Baron Von Hallens. But let me warn you, if I hear one more David Lee Roth joke, I will lay waste to the entire state of New Jersey! Unless Sandy beats me to it. I have been an immortal for six centuries and I have not seen worse politicians since Ambrosio Spinola back in the 1500s. That guy made W look like Stephen Hawking on ginkgo biloba.

What if Romney wins? How will that impact our already tenuous grip on reality? What the hell happens when we institutionalize the House of Rove? A place where people can say anything, minus fact-checkers, minus any objectivity, minus any political consequences for lying? We already have that, it’s called a spoof news site—well, some consequences, but we’ll leave the Ghetto Shaman’s last Barely Legal Kundalini Cruise lawsuit out of this.

Washington, DC—In an unexpected move, the Romney campaign announced its intension to be the first administration ever to levy a tax on our nation’s homeless. Romney claims to have a five point plan to save America, or at least the nicer, Mormon friendly parts (MFP).

It started off like any other grocery store excursion, but I had spent the week leading up to this trip in preparation. Long, sleepless nights spent staring intently at a blank notepad, a pencil resting uselessly by its side. Frustration builds up quickly when you’re in a creative rut. I suppose I was no different from my writing forefathers: Hemingway, Wilde, even Danielle Steele got their creative wheels stuck in the mud now and again. But I knew inspiration would come. And it did. Oh, did it...

Washington, DC—Despite every effort to displace the incumbent, Romney’s political advisors were not happy with his chances to win the election. That all changed when they discovered an overlooked voting demographic, the Undead (not of the Mormon variety).

Flagstaff, AZ—Oh joyous day, oh rapture, the Tea Party Express pulled into my town on 9/29. I haven’t witnessed anything that disturbing since the Discord’s coverage of Prince Charles streaking. I attended the event for two main reasons: one, it was girls’ night out so I needed to amuse myself until the "Pick utth up at Chharrrly’s" request arrived and, two, I have a political masochistic streak the size of the Ghetto Shaman’s bar tab.

Shortly after the re-inauguration of Barak Obama, I was in line at Carl’s Jr. when they came for me. I had heard about the banning of large drinks in New York and thought, "Wow, good thing I live in Arizona." People here don’t like so much Government involvement in their daily lives. That’s why Arizona has a stockpile of weirdness. We were free to be as weird as we wanted and we like it that way. After all, true freedom is the freedom to not be like everyone else, even when that means having no brains. It’s who we are.

Umm, let me think (cue squiggly flashback sequence): I had just lost everything in the stock market, I was doctor shopping for benzodiazepines, and after I drank myself to sleep each night with a bucket of vodka, I prayed to the God Yig that Bush wouldn’t start a land war in Iran. Umm, yeah, I’m thinking a tad better. Now I’m in therapy instead of abusing valium and I’m almost completely off the vodka...er, well, I do occasionally chug hand sanitizer when my sponsor isn’t looking.

Washington, DC—Jack Primus is coming under a lot of fire over the past several days as hordes of the tentacle-ridden maggoty fungi, known as the Migo (no relation to our politicians), are assaulting humans all over the globe—not to mention the Romney family’s endangered species petting zoo.

Flagstaff, AZ—We heard through the grapevine some folks were having strange experiences at one of the local brewpubs...not the kind of experiences usually associated with half-priced drink specials. All kinds of spooky things were happening after hours at Flagstaff Brewing Company. Looks like the Ghost Blunders were going to have to put in some overtime on this one. One of the managers, Marcus, called us in dire need of assistance. Okay, we called him, but he was willing to let us do our thing if we promised not to break anything.

The Crank is right about one thing...naah, just kidding. Sorry but meaningful debate is deader than the Kentucky Darwin Museum. It’s why any discourse officially ended here on The Discord; it’s why I’ve decided to hunt ghosts in brewpubs instead of cover our pending collapse (Twilight of the Grogs?). Today, if you show any political insight whatsoever, you can be overturned with one Bachmannesque, crayon-graph backed rant.

Please let me preface the following article by stating that I may not be writing this whilst in the best of moods. The Crank’s humble domicile has experienced a water issue of biblical proportions. I am writing this after three days of industrial wind machines 24-hrs a day, cats locked up in solitary, bitching constantly as they tend to do, a spouse asking "when will it be over?" as incessantly as a kid on a car trip asking "are we there yet?" So forgive me in advance.

Miami, FL—Dolphin researcher, Dr. Holly Hotalot, made a startling announcement to the press today: "Many of the world’s dolphins and porpoises have been communicating with an alien race known only as the Usukko and their message has implications far beyond Obamacare. This is like that Douglas Adams novel only worse!"

Durango, CO—Reaching the fabled city of Durango could mean only one thing, we’ve arrived at the last installment of this important four part Colorado series on the para-abnormal. Durango literally means "water town"—which recently spurred Watertown, NY, to officially change its name to Durango, because the Mayor said, "It sounds way cooler." Besides, Durango has like, what? four brewpubs? What the hell does Watertown, New York have? Water? Yeah, I wouldn’t’ drink that.

On one sunny, hot as the hinges of Hell, day here on the surface of the sun, I was alone on the showroom floor. My cell phone rings. I see it’s ‘home’ so I pick up expecting to hear something like a ‘I’m home from work. See you soon, honey," kind of thing. Well, not so much.

Silverton, CO—Onward to part three of my epic four part series on the Ghosts of Colorado. My wife and I pulled into Silverton after surviving the treacherous "million dollar highway." They probably should have spent a little more than that and put up some flippin’ guardrails! In some spots, veering your car just a hair beyond the fog line means certain death. Silverton, meanwhile, is a quaint little place...at least from a distance. When you get closer it starts to look like Sanford & Son decided to go into the western town business. I tied the old Impala to a hitching post and found the first brewpub for some much needed "research".

The Dumpster behind Comic Con—In an unprecedented move, the Geeks of America have united under a common banner. Their ultimate goal is revenge against all the people who plagued them through high school. The Geeks took time away from their coveted Las Vegas Comic Con to hatch an ingenious plot—which was quite a sacrifice as Scarlett Johansson was due to appear in her Black Widow costume and later Leonard Nimoy was going to recite Hobbit poetry in Johansson’s Black Widow costume.

Ouray, CO—Part two of our compelling four part series takes us to Ouray. The town is about as scenically situated as our last Rocky Mountain sojourn, Telluride. These days I only do sojourns. You want an adventure vacation, go with Cokie McGrath. She’ll have you climbing the Matterhorn by lunchtime. Luckily, the Matterhorn in Ouray is a cheesy motel and I’ve already been on the roof...with a beer.

There are sixteen widely used terms today that invoke nausea in me every time I hear them. I would like them from this moment forward stricken from all political discourse. Once one of my ‘16 forbidden phrases’ (similar to Carlin’s seven dirty words) are used on TV, or in print, they take on a life of their own. These are terms I never want to hear again. I’m sure I speak for everyone, and by everyone I mean six people, when I say please stop!

Telluride, CO—The first segment of this epic four part Haunted Colorado series begins in one of the coolest towns in the country. And, at an elevation of nearly 9,000 feet, Telluride is so cool there’s still residual snowpack...in July. The town is named after the mineral Tellurium, which was used to enhance the hull-plating during one of the Enterprise’s missions threw a particularly hazardous region of space known as The Expanse. Or, maybe it’s named after that Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy character. Ok, I don’t really know, but I have posited two plausible theories so lay the hell off.

Criminals and evildoers the world over: beware! Law abiding citizens: sleep soundly tonight knowing that in your neck-of-the-woods, local criminals (mostly the petty variety like vandals, jaywalkers, and internet pirates) will be taking a healthy dose of justice—justice served with a side-order of spit-talkin’ Dirty Harry style ‘plum mad dog mean’ true grit...I have absolutely no idea what that is even supposed to mean.

I’m probably like you, except for my quasi-homelessness, my unusual cravings for chocolate shaped like human body parts, and my history of stalking women whose names don’t begin with vowels. But I’m different in that…I can’t wait for a real zombie plague! Sure skeptics will say this can’t happen, or they’ll list a bunch of ‘scientific evidence’ discounting the possibility. I ignored science in high school and college, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to start paying attention to it now.

There’s a lot going on today and with our media tanking it’s time we learned the truth! Conspiracy theories are rampant, yet what are we to make of the Age of Misinformation? The Daily Discord has paid me handsomely to get to the bottom of several of the leading stories of our time. I, The Crank, found most of the loose strings of a generation and tied them into a nice little bow. On that note, I could really use that case of Coca Cola now, Mr. Winslow. It would be better for everyone if it arrived soon…

Against my better judgment, I’ve decided to interview the Daily Discord’s head comedy writer, Mick Zano. Mr. Zano is a man—at least technically—who many call the brains of the operation. OK, no one really says that. In fact, spending an hour with Mr. Zano is good cause for hazard pay. Did you get that, Mr. Winslow? Make check payable to Cokie Industries.

I, Dave Atsals, may be looking for work soon. If any of you know of a position open for someone totally unqualified to do anything but sit on a barstool and shoot pool, let me know. My employment at the local flooring center may have hit bottom. Just be thankful they edited out the ‘pulling the rug out from under me’ joke. I had to meet with the head of human resources yesterday, which I believe has something to do with our HR department. There, we reviewed my growing list of misdeeds. I have listed the funniest five for your enjoyment. Mr. Winslow said listing them all would put too much of a strain on our server.

As I enter my pool after a hard day’s work, I’m greeted by the momentary chill one gets when going from over 105° to a frigid 88°. As I start my exercise routine, I soon warm. Fifteen minutes of calisthenics, followed by ten minutes of "floundering" as I don’t really swim, per se. When I decide I’ve had about enough of this whole "healthy" thing, I float like a dead man for another ten minutes...or, as I call it, the ‘Fuck You Richard Simmons’ position.

For years scientists have disputed the possibility of time travel: matter can't travel faster than the speed of light, Zefram Cochrane won’t be born until the next century, yada yada. Other scientists just dodge the question entirely with things like, "I'm more than a little busy looking at these glass slides and shuffling these papers around" ...and, "How did you get passed the retinal scan to get in here, anyway?"

In the year 2050 The Daily Discord is celebrating its 42nd anniversary and its one thousandth page view! Whoot! Whoot!...that’s almost 25 a year! We would like to look back to the time of the Discord’s inception—a time of turbulence, a time when humanity turned away from logic, reason, science, and a hit television show known only as Glee.

I caught up to John Conner, of Terminator fame, in an abandoned WWII weapons testing range. His mother, Sarah, was off hunting radioactive rabbits with a sling shot, so I was able to speak with him without her breaking my jaw...like last time.

Late Jurassic Period, Earth – I am standing here in the middle of a Mesozoic marsh where I have sunk the Discord’s company Delorean past the fenders. As I wait for a creepy green puppet to appear and pull my car out of the mud with his mind, I figured I should report this story—a story I broke the boundaries of time and space to tell. There is evidence Global Warming happened in the prehistoric past, but the facts stink!

It’s absurd what’s happening today, and not just because of my last post about the Facebook Nazis. We are in dire straits, folks, and, Mark my words, I have had a Knopfler. (The Sultans of Swing Voters?) Sorry. Half our country can’t motivate and the other half probably shouldn’t. The Occupy movement remains rudderless and the Tea Party has charted a clear and exact course toward some jagged rocks.

Are you one with Yig, or will be cowering in the corner when the Earth comes under peril this December? Take Yig’s Stalwart quiz and see where you stand in the eyes of the All Father Serpent. Oh, but if you fail badly, you might be devoured.

USA – There are many reports of bizarre and carnivorous crimes sweeping the country, from a nude Miami-man gnawing on his victim’s face, to a New Jersey man wielding his own intestines as a weapon against police, to a local Shaman doing inappropriate things to people’s skulls.

I chose June 3rd to interpret Matt Drudge’s sad, ideological nonsense over on The Drudge Report. For those of you non-Drudgers, this guy cherry picks headlines designed to embarrass the President and reorganizes information in the guise of a news site. These headlines seem damning and they often paint quite a picture. What they don’t tell you is the artist of said picture has been huffing the paint fumes.

In a world where we’ve become so totally dependent upon electronic wizardry to do even the most basic of tasks, the failure of such technology makes us old timers long for the old days. The latest tech forces us to choose between quality and convenience. Do we wish to get off our ever fatter asses and actually ‘do’ something? No, we want something done ‘for us’ by the magic little Chinese dude inside our latest job robber from the east. Ask not what your Compaq can do for you, but what you can...a fuggedaboutit.

Flagstaff, AZ—Always on the job, I attended the David Sedaris show on Friday April 27th over at glamorous NAU. Sedaris is supposed to be an autograph-friendly-legend (AFL), but one person was clearly gypped. You might be wondering who? I was supposed to ask him some questions that I scribbled down on the ride over. The plan was to ask him as many of these questions as possible until his bodyguards dragged me or him away. Then I would categorize our brief, yet turbulent encounter as "an interview"...you know, the usual.

Age related decline is a phenomenon sweeping the nation. You may recognize this subtle foe to establishing and maintaining relationships. For example, "Sure, honey. I can pick that up from the store" quickly turns to..."Umm, why am I going to the store?" Other symptoms include: fumbling around for beers long since consumed, emphatic arguments with inanimate objects—typically of the malfunctioning variety—and accusations of moving items which have remained stationary for years...like, for example, your house.

While waiting for my shrink to digitally write out my meds for the next three months, I asked him a question. What amazed me was the cognizant answer. This new guy is great. He has knowledge and stuff—not like that last one. I spent my $125.00 listening to her bitch for 30 minutes. She had her loser daughter as her assistant. Imagine moving your business and not calling all of your regular clients to inform them. Then berating them when they suggest how a knowledgeable person might be better in that position. Headbob, followed by a "layta beeoch!"

Not sure if the Mayan Gods are returning any time soon, but I do know neither of our presidential contenders can save America in its current form. What’s the current form, you ask? One hint, Forrest Gump stepped in a pile right outside of this very Flagstaff coffee shop where I’m writing this tripe. That’s deep, Mick, real deep. Yeah, well not as deep as the pile this country stepped in..."It happens."

The purpose of this quiz is to test your wilderness survival skills. You are a modern person with modern needs. Things like broken legs, heat stroke, and dehydration are things that happened back when your grandparents were kids. We have different concerns today, like my Twitter account is blocked! But when a real nature-related crisis strikes, how will you react? Will you do the right thing? Is rubbing salmon on your pajamas before bedtime a good camping practice?

Antarctica–Early February, after twenty years of drilling through thousands of feet of Antarctic ice, the Russians finally reached Lake Vostok. Sadly, being February, most of the researchers died the next night of exposure after their celebratory baby whale roast. Vostok, a fresh water lake sealed off from the Antarctic surface since the early Miocene epoch, has been the source of much speculation. It has attracted the attention of mad scientists, neo Nazis, tinfoil-wearing alien hunters, and even mad-Nazi-tinfoil-wearing Discord reporters. 

I get that a lot lately. Yes, the 800lb beige gorilla in the room has managed to somehow lose 30 lbs. Giving up nearly everything you love to eat apparently has that effect. When I was younger the only incentive to stay fit involved getting girls. But sometimes even then it just wasn’t enough (aka, boy those Twinkies and that 3 liter bottle of Coke look real good, but I better not if I want to gggaaaammmffff-glugglugglug). Oh well, so much for the diet or the date.

Wow, nearly three of your fans got to watch you beat the Chicago Blackhawks this year—your first ever playoff series win since moving from Winni-friggin-peg. Wanna know why? The following is the comedy, the tragedy, and the horror that befell one Coyote fan, namely me, during the 2012 playoffs. Damn Mayans. The Hockey Gods frown on you Arizona! They will now probably relocate to Seattle or Hackensack...and who needs a team out in Hackensack? This post has been sent to NHL Commissioner, Gary Bettman and to Captain Coyote, Shane Doan. They will respect my authoritay!

On the balcony of the Weatherford Hotel, Alex Bone and I were minding our own business and kicking back a brewski. Many stories begin this way. Bone man had already managed to piss off one of the owners, Sam, and somehow turned his flagrant obnoxiousness into a free shot of tequila. Bone is living proof the customer isn’t always right, yet it still pays dividends.

As I sit at my desk at work, not really earning anything, I dream of winning the mega lottery, just like everyone else who lacks the fortitude to actually ‘save’, or ‘invest’ or any of those other long range, forethought-related endeavors...you know, the Middle Class.

Dear Mr. Zano, I realize you, just like all politicians, cater to your base. I understand that and almost always fully support it. The problem arises when ‘your base’ refers to six or seven deeply depressed individuals in the rainiest, coldest, wettest, most depressed, most northeast corner of the United States. I also realize one more thing. You do, well, suck.

This is a rebuttal of some recent discussion by Fox News’s, Dr. Charles Krautwanker (that’s not name calling! There is considerable evidence he wanks his kraut, or is hammered when he...). Anyway, this is a snopes.com version of Dr. Lautyammer’s recent speech (that’s a typo, honest). So in all fairness to Dr. K, the snopeputians may have augmented his rhetoric (aka, they may have added some pink slime filler to the usual USDA prime choice Foxaganda).

Life Coaching has remained a fast-growing offshoot of the counseling field for years now. One clear advantage, you don’t need all of those pesky "credentials." Life Coaches help people reach for their true goals while taking their money so they have less capital to do so. Life Coaching affirmations include, ‘Reach for your full potential’ and ‘I’m so special, I deserve to do whatever I want and to hell with the rest of you.’

Nothing makes me more nauseous than candidates wrapped in a flag, clutching and thumping Bibles, while pontificating on "Christian Values." Yeah, I’m talking about the current front-running Republican candidates, who fixated on inflicting their religious doctrine on every citizen in the country. Values can have any number of prefixes which are meaningless. Values are just that – values. Now, if you want valueless, just become a daily Daily Discord reader.

Let’s be clear here, this is a non rebuttal rebuttal (NRR), Mr. Crank. Keeping my mouth shut is not always easy, as my librarian can attest, but I will try to keep the rebut-thing to a minimum. This post will cover our continued budget woes, what the Florida shooting says about society, and the Discord’s failed attempt at being a uniter. Who’d have thought a site called The Daily Discord would fail to bring people together? Shocking.

If during a conversation someone called you an asshole, you would leave the area upset or stove in someone’s head with a Louisville Slugger, via Joe Pesci in Goodfellas (my choice). Hurtful words can even lead to suicide, a reaction I have never understood (outside of reading Zano features). My first thought would be to end the other person’s life. Where does that get you? Dead? Not even. Although, my mom did manage to get both dead and even...with me at least. I’ll never forget her loving last words, "I may end up dead, but I will get you back!"

This might come as a shock to some of you, but I, Dave Atsals, spend a lot of time in bars. Unless this is my probation officer, in which case they are called coffee shops. I normally refer to these neon establishments as restaurants with refreshments. I spend so much time in bars, in fact, on occasion I must work to augment my income, aka, pay off my bar tab.

In an unprecedented move, the entire staff of The Daily Discord has pledged to drink as much as possible this Saint Patrick’s Day. When asked to elaborate, on what many are calling a senseless publicity stunt, CEO Pierce Winslow had this to say, "I know a lot of people drink quite a bit on Saint Patty’s Day already, but we are going to drink sooo much that normal people will seem like a bunch of nuns at AA."

When I knew I was leaving Lawn Guyland, I visited my long time dentist for the last time. This man had done all my dental work since the early Reagan Administration. My union dental coverage had purchased him numerous fine German and, later, Japanese cars over the years. He used to say that when I came into his office, he could hear the revving of new engines instead of air drills.

In hindsight, comparing John Boehner to Don Quixote isn’t very fair to Mr. Quixote. But what’s the GOP attacking now? Why are they so afraid? Even when they aren’t in power, they’re the story....a sad, sad story, yet an ever-evolving one, or in their case devolving. Look, don’t fear a reasonable amount of competence...it’s INcompetence you want to avoid. See how easy that was? Now you try to think of...just kidding, like that would ever happen.

Yeah, that’s right, The Crank is finally calling out the right wing. Why don’t you just put the f*&^ing election into a pretty foil box with a bow and hand it to Obama and say, "Sorry we bothered." Or put on the cake, Enjoy Four More Years, oh Anointed One.

What would YOU do with a million dollars? It's an oft asked question, right up there with "Are you a cop? Y'know you have to tell me if you are, right?" or "Dude, how much for those 99 cent potato chips?" If you asked me what I would do with a cool million before today, my answer would have been "a Branch-Davidian style compound, where I had multiple wives and would subject my followers to all-night prog-rock jam-sessions, featuring me on all instruments." After all, I'm a one-man band and I don't like sharing credit. But today the idea hit me, "What could I buy with 325 million?" and the answer became all too apparent...a planet.

Oh, it’s on. The torturing-for-Jesus version of spirituality (TJVS) is officially taking on Obamarama. The ultra-religious fear the future, while atheists and liberals are content to occupy it. Half our country can’t fathom a new American chapter and the other half can’t bloody wait: Occupy vs. Tea Party, Left vs. Right, Roe vs. Wade...Monsters vs. Aliens.

Or, as I like to call it, "Ignorance in Design, Futility in Function". As you can probably glean from the title, this is one beige gorilla who will be looking for another way to test my glucose. Years of Twinkies and ‘hecho en Mexico’ Coke have started to take their toll. Maybe Hostess going under isn’t such a bad thing... Meanwhile, my dear Doctor has told me I must take horsey-pill sized meds to help me stave off the seemingly inevitable fat man’s disease...Twinkities.

After the Made in the Shade incident, I swore I would never cover another brew festival again. I made this proclamation to my wife the next day, or maybe she told me. Well, the beauty of being me is no longer being burdened with any long or short term memory whatsoever. And, in retrospect, maybe I shouldn’t have gone to that second party afterward.

When is the stupidity ever going to end? No, not the Daily Discord; they just renewed their hosting. I just can’t understand why anyone would continue to support the ignorance of way too many members of the Republican Party! I know that democracy is composed of many differing factions. I believed that responsible people could disagree on issues and resolve them. Oops, I said responsible people. Can you edit that part out?

I live in a very red state. The move was quite volitional, kind of like when I pick at a scab, or order nuclear wings, or luge naked. Yes, I’m a luger, baby, like that song. It may just be a coincidence, but I can’t get MSNBC on the telly anymore. Lately my remote skips from CNN to Fox News. True story. I’m sure this has not been orchestrated by my Governor, Jan Brewer, as I have seen both my cable company and Mrs. Brewer in action, first hand, and neither of them could pull off something this sophisticated.

Outside the Collapsing Shack, AZ—In a freakish turn of events not seen since that last Crank feature, Alex Bone has sworn off all societal ‘responsibilities’ and ‘obligations.’ Inspired by the Discord’s own ‘Occupy Space’ movement, Bone Man has not only joined the ranks of the homeless, but is working diligently on a statewide movement for others to join him in his crusade against rent, mortgages, and roofs in general.

Long before there was Spongbob Squarepants, there was Spongecake Cream Members. But 1/10/2012 marked the beginning of the end. No, it isn’t cataclysmic storms, or giant grasshoppers like that similarly named Peter Graves’ movie. It’s not tsunamis or earthquakes or Mayan Gods either. It’s not even Ahmanutjob flexing his nuclear muscle, nor is it Kim Jong Jr. testing his authoritah. I’m afraid, it’s much, much worse.

I tried live-blogging the movie Twilight. Never do this. I would rather live-blog a hundred Republican debates in a pool of acid (not LSD). Not sure which Twilight thingy, exactly. Mr. Winslow would never reimburse me for an actual movie ticket, so this was purely a televised event. At least it was a night filled with monsters other than Mitt and Newt for a change.

Typically, when a coworker comes to me first thing in the morning with a ‘story’, I feign interest. I might smile and maybe even nod periodically as if listening intently to this intriguing yarn (much in the same way I read Zano posts).

This post isn’t actually for reading purposes; it’s just my version of blogular therapy. I’ve tried to make a few points in a few posts over a few pints, but reality is a tough nut to crack when you’re dealing with…er, nuts. The truth has little meaning in today’s discourse (or, Discord…). Modern conservatism, in particular, has its own truth, its own facts, and its own version of history. They’re no longer interested in debating events occurring in this dimensional plane of existence, unless it involves Snooki’s antics.

Many are mortified how well right wing radical, Stephen Colbert, is polling in the South Carolina Primary. He’s holding at 5%, polling considerably better than John Huntsman, who since stated, "I might as well join the f*^%ing Peace Corps." Some feel this comedic surge may eventually shift Colbert into the position as the anti-Romney candidate. These same folks feel this eventuality could change life as we know it forever!

Collapsing Shack, AZ—After losing dozens of potentially talented reporters and multiple lawsuits, the Daily Discord’s CEO finally moved the official Discord ‘Casting Couch’ from Mick Zano’s office. "This latest list of atrocities and abuses marked the last straw," said CEO Pierce Winslow. "And this time I mean it!"

Representative Anthony Weiner, or ex-rep anyway, embodies all that is wrong with the world in a nutsack—er, nutshell. Do we remember any legislation he was responsible for writing or passing? No. Has he left the world a better place? No. Did he respect the office? Well, maybe the TV show.

First, let me be the first to congratulate you on the crying Korean-slash-Bachmann joke. Well done, sir. Second, I know Darth Winslow warned me about political commentary—just like the Politicos, he has to pander to his base (all six of them). Yeah, I know, "they are six really smart people!" I’m sorry, dear Winnie, like the spider who kills the goose he’s riding across the river on and drowns, it’s wut ah do.

The plan in Afghanistan, even under General Stanley McChrystal, was to reach out to the moderate brand of the Taliban and bring them back to the table. This has been the "the plan" since, umm, ever. So, we finally start to implement the thing and everyone goes ape shit? Attacking moderate and radical Muslims alike, as they represent approximately a third of the planet, is madness...or, as I like to call it, modern conservatism. This route will surely find us all committed to a Santorium somewhere. Sorry, Rick. Your turn.

Collapsing, AZ—After thirty-three failed suicide attempts, the creature known as the Frankenstein Monster was admitted to a local acute psychiatric unit over the weekend. When asked why he had tried to light his whole body on fire, encase himself in ice, and watch the entire Jersey Shore series on Netflix while eating buckets of habanero chicken wings, the monster had this to say...

Occasionally I have been wrong here on The Daily Discord. I know, I know, say it isn’t so Zano. But a few of my predictions have clearly gone astray.

I still believe, Sanjya!

Surely my biggest miscalculation involves the time frame for the double dip recession. But here’s one I’m taking back. My relatively small list of boo boos just got smaller. I did not support "The Surge" in Iraq. I felt, at the time, it only acted as a Bushian human shield, so he could quietly sneak away to go clear brush or conduct some other task more suitable to his relative skill set.

Collapsing Shack, AZ—The story you are about to read is true, sadly…except the crawdad part and most of the dialogue. OK, the premise is true, the rest is bullshit. After nearly half an hour of grueling work, the infamous zombie author Michael D. Griffiths believed his zombie Christmas story was ready for publication. He could not have been more wrong…

I just whipped out the parents’ ultimate Christmastime argument for good behavior.

"Santa is watching. If you don’t want a lump of coal in your stocking, you’d better go to sleep."

Being an off-the-hook intelligent six-year-old (who miraculously still believes), she asked "how does he know?"

Ask anyone who works, or has ever worked retail at a shopping mall during the holidays, what’s the most depressingly degrading job one could apply for, or have thrust upon them during the Christmas season, and here's how it will go down. Oh, I should add, the following yule time tale actually happened…sadly.

Living on the surface of the Sun (aka, Phoenix) does have its benefits. One, you never have to travel to see fambly. They will always come to see you. Let’s see, 19 degrees and snow in New Yawk, or 70 and sunny in AZ. Hmmm.

The following was originally an 85-post comment thread. I rarely got a word in edgewise, but a few inconvenient facts ruffled some Foxeteer feathers, right on cue. What was really funny about this dialogue—which spanned three hours and completely interrupted my pornography download session—was the fact that I was the only non-Foxeteer in the virtual jungle. I am the reason this became an 85-post thread from hell. And I’d do it again…

Collapsing Shack, AZ—In a story stranger than even his own dark twisted mind could imagine, Zombie fiction author Michael D. Griffiths has admitted to being a zombie. This has not only shocked his four loyal fans, but has sky-rocketed his Eternal Aftermath book sales to the point of clearing his advance for the first time ever…mostly.

The hysterical lawsuit letter you are about to read is very real, but let’s begin our tale here: in the late sixties, my earliest memories of recorded music involved 45s and albums on an ancient record player, one that my tech savvy brother-in-law managed to hook up to my brother’s accordion amp. Mono Led Zeppelin, lots of bass, who wus better’n me?

You stupido bastards, you keepa tella me, "Why u gonna buy Chrysler? Why u waista so much money on such American crap, eh?" I also get lotsa, "U stupido CEO, wherza u brains? Inna u ass?" Anna I getta, "Hey Sergio, whera u woikin nest, eh?" Okay, I’ll stop writing in accent, promise…

Weed the People, in order to roll a more perfect spliff, establish justice, and ensure domestic tranquility. If you want to do one thing to save an ungodly amount of 'lude, I mean loot, legalize marijuana. You will immediately save on enforcement, generate revenue, cut violence on the border, keep the Ghetto Shaman happy, and free gazillions of non-violent prisoners. Admittedly, the Ghetto Shaman should be jailed for other reasons.

In the last couple of months central PA saw two major events: an earthquake and a massive flood. Not to mention the earthquake in Penn State. Each event showed the average American’s lack of intelligence. They all made Mick Zano look like Walter Cronkite and the Ghetto Shaman look like the Dalai friggin’ Lama.

Okay, here goes. You want world peace? Well, I think I may have some answers. I want you to look at the globe, not as a mixture of political boundaries, but a world of people sharing a pastime, or addiction, or religion. Frankly, all of this melting pot stuff is a waste of perfectly good marijuana.

Most Americans fit into one of the three categories above, all nice and tidy like, which I will ridicule each of you for soon enough. First, how do we galvanize this Occupy Movement into something meaningful and lasting, like the second season of Jersey Shore?

In accordance with his campaign promise in 2008, President Obama has announced that he is withdrawing all American troops from Iraq by the end of this year, an amazing feat. I would expect the whole country to give him a standing ovation – were I delusional.

On Tuesday, October 25, 2011, the last of the United States B-53 bombs was dismantled at the PanTex Nuclear Arms assembly and disassembly plant in Amarillo, TX. A holdover from the cold war, this minivan-sized terminator of all things living or dead, or just ‘Fat Bastard’ to its dissemblers, was about 600x as powerful as the Hiroshima bomb. Amarillo was the obvious choice to mess with this thing, seeing as how no one would notice if said bomb exploded there.

Flagstaff, AZ—Arizona was still a territory when the Weatherford Hotel was erected in glorious downtown Flagstaff. The old hotel remains one of the coolest structures in the southwest. It’s the home of the Flagstaff Writing Group and it’s also quite haunted. The majority of the ghost sightings occur in the Zane Grey ballroom, so last week, with an almost unrivaled determination, Alex Bone and I made the intrepid 11 pace march from bar to ballroom.

Collapsing shack, AZ—After traveling over 300 light beers and listening to the same songs 10,000,000,000 times, the invasion force from the planet Gloom 666 has turned around and decided to give their Earth invasion "a miss."

I have recently become extremely obsessed with the ever-expanding glut of TV shows about storage unit auctions, people taking one of a kind items into pawn shops and negotiating high-dollar bargains, and/or people rummaging around in dilapidated barns & garages for treasures that, I'm told, are high-dollar items. An antique vibrator?! $300. Thomas Jefferson's own personal butt-plug, hewn from Mount Rushmore? $4,000 all-day. A rare acetate demo of John Lennon fisting Yoko Ono with brass-knuckles? Actually, that could be ANY Lennon/Ono composition. But I'd still pay at least $2,000 for the chance to own it. This is my fault. I'm addicted to junk…thus my interest in joining Team Discord.

The following is a real account of the incredible events that occurred on October 17^th. These two vaguely-adult-like individuals, Mick Zano and Cokie McGrath, don’t agree on what exactly transpired after their "Occupy Wal-Mart" protest in nearby Cottonwood. Each insists their version of this hike-gone-horribly-wrong is the correct one. We’ll let you decide. The fact both of these intrepid explorers survived this ordeal is a testament to…who cares? But it’s really funny to laugh at them during this classic he said, she said. Enjoy.

The most valuable thing I received from my family of origin was a graduate practicum in hypocrisy before I completed elementary school. Dad believed he was God, and Mom supported his delusion as long as he was always there to pull out her chair and open the car door for her. They intensely disliked the outcome of their tutelage as I developed of my greatest talent, the ability to see through subterfuge to hypocrisy. I have been amused by it ever since.

Mikko, I usually forgo reading your diatribes because, well, your diatribes are no longer funny. I don’t like being sad, and you make me sad. Sad is the opposite of funny. I’m sorry, but it’s true, ask anyone. Oh, that’s right…to ask someone you’d have to be on speaking terms with them. Sorry, I forgot the whole "Zano no longer exists in our world" pledge we all took here at the ‘cord.

Another faction finally emerges, Occupy Wall Street. A rocky start, fer sure, and I condemn their recent attack on the E*Trade baby. But how does one bridge the gap between the Tea Party and this new group? We need a revolution that resonates with more, not less people. Thus far one group seems to be railing against Wall Street and the disparity of wealth, while the other attacks taxation and a growing government. One demands entitlements and the other wants to put an end to them. What’s the answer?  The Transcosmetic Party, that’s what.

Einstein once said for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction*. One smart, hairy Jew, that E fella. Sometimes, a reaction occurs that wasn’t foreseen by the ‘actor’. That is what is known as an ‘unintended consequence.’ The Daily Discord has become the unintended consequences capital of the internet lately and on the national stage…well, that’s even worse.

*Winslow’s note: I know, this is actually Newton’s Third Law of Motion from some 192 years before Einstein was born, but he's on a roll...

Not many folks realize there is a Chinatown in Las Vegas. In fact, I was a local for nearly five years before I even found it…and it’s huge! I moved here in the year of the rabbit and didn’t find Chinatown until the year of the flipping ox. You see, Las Vegas Blvd runs north-south, dividing the city east-west, and I have always been an eastsider. Among locals, crossing LVB to go to the other side, whichever side that is, is generally considered unnecessary, stupid, and in some cases criminal.

I like Chris Christie, at least comparatively.  Unlike his colleagues, this man often refuses to drink from the Cup of Stupid. But in order to win the nomination these days, one must resonate with the asses.  It’s always interesting to see which angle they attempt, bullshit or revisionist history. For this stump speech Christie managed a nice combination of both.  His speech was ultimately a scathing attack on his own party.

In retrospect, when I watched the 9/11 ceremonies in Manhattan from my living room (a misnomer), it struck me, there’s a reason singers who had hits in their twenties shouldn’t try to sing them when they’re pushing seventy.  I watched Paul Simon, folk guitar in-hand, completely butcher "The Sounds of Silence."  You know what would have been more respectful?  Umm, silence?

This post is over two years in the making, but only because I just learned how to use Word. It took longer for Bald Tony and I to complete this arduous Irish/Vegas pubcrawl than it took Frodo and Sam to journey to Mordor. Granted, we would have remained at the Green Dragon until the orcs razed the place, but, who knows, maybe Sauron would have kept us on as Middle-Earth beer tasters? Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. Yes Mr. Winslow, I just compared you to a dark sorcerer, but in a good way…really. Oh, on that note, I’ve just released a Nazgul toward Barad dur with our receipts.

Mick Zano was supposed to come for *sigh* yet another visit earlier this month.  Due to circumstances beyond his control he had to delay a week.  Unfortunately I was working overtime, so it looked like things were going to be a bust.  Then, being the good friend and inadequate employee I am, I timed Zano’s visit with a three day suspension.  Whoo Hoo!  So, to be clear, I would not be getting paid for three days AND spending extra money.   Dave Ramsey would not be pleased.

Have I got the investment for you! Over the years, as we grow older, our needs change. We start life in diapers, go on to tighty whities, and on to boxers, then, well, back to diapers. We start out sleeping all day, then at night, then not even then, then at night again, then all day, just intermittently. Our lives come full circle, but there is one area that has disappeared from the scene. Old people cars…complete with deploying Depends feature.

After watching the show Monday night, I have to admit to being wrong.  These candidates are really shaping up to be a prepared, well-informed group of individuals.  Oh, you mean the Republican candidates…I was talking about American Idol.  Sorry.  I only wish Trump and Palin were there to share in the Thorazine love.  Speaking of Thorazine, why isn’t Glenn Beck running?  I think if those three came on board, you’d have a nice representative slice of Americana…the criminally deranged slice.

Hey Universal Pictures, H.P. Lovecraft is not a Goonies movie!  Since we have been a little Cthulhu-heavy lately here at the Discord, we must mention our insane—clawing at our own entrails—disappointment in the decision to cancel Guillermo Del Toro’s version of At the Mountains of Madness.  Universal insisted Del Toro make this 150-million dollar horror extravaganza with a PG-Rating.  Have you ever read any Lovecraft, Mr. Universal dude? You would have better luck making Shaving Ryan’s Privates a bleeping G-Rating!  …which, by the way, was a really important film in its own right.

In retrospect, as I watched the Circus Minimus, a.k.a. the debt ceiling debacle, my mind started to wander, as it is prone to do without Ritalin. Can there really be this many ideologically enslaved people all in one place? Do they really think we believe the talking points anymore? Then it all came into raging clarity as I watched Blazing Saddles for the 367th time last night. I don’t mean to offend with this culturally insensitive material. It’s Mel Brooks’ fault, honest. If you want to really be offended, check out one of my regular features.

I have come to the conclusion that most people who own a pool should not. They have no idea how they work, how to take care of them, or how to keep their kids from floating face-down in them on national TV. Of course, Casey Anthony figured out how to parley her mother’s pool into an acquittal, but the vast majority of the rest are oxygen thieves. We’ll start with the mundane…

Whenever my laptop takes a crap, every few months it seems, I send it to Dell and then march over to my local Rent-a-Center for a temporary replacement…all in the name of keeping this exciting e-zine percolating.  This will be my last visit to Rent-a-Center and this time it’s not because of the beer-soaked flat-screen incident.

As I sit here at my place of employment, gazing out at what has become the biggest fiasco-slash-cluster fuck of any city utility improvement project ever, I can’t help but think, wow, there really are more incompetent people than at the dailydiscord.com.  Hey, if you hyperlink to where you already are does that create a virtual wormhole?  Try it.

Ahhh, revolution is in the air…someone open a window. The difference between the Arab Spring and the U.S. Fall is simple: the Arab Spring is a series of revolutions designed to overthrow dictatorial despotic governments, while ours is an attempt to create one.  It’s like some Saudi Prince saying, "Hey, let’s gut all regs and let the me market work."

In a desperate effort to not only protect our borders, but to save the American tax payer's money, the U.S. Senate has authorized the United States' southern border be lined with millions of banana peels.

Hate is a strong word, maybe loathe is better…yeah, fear and loathing on some God-awful social site.  Let’s be clear about this, I’m only on Facebook to promote the Daily Discord, which sucks!   Our other venues grow like social site Chia Pets, even when ignored, but Facebook?  What’s more disturbing, there’s something inherently wrong with Facebook and the whole virtual narcissistic cesspool (VNC).  As John Bender once said, "It’s demented and sad, but social."

The biggest blockbuster of the year is undoubtedly Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows—Part 2. You know it’s a serious movie when I throw in an adverb as big and daunting as ‘undoubtedly’, right from the get go.   The Daily Discord was there to cover this prestigious premiere.  When I say premiere, I mean, a week later during a matinee at the Ghettoplex.  Oh, and Mr. Winslow will probably never reimburse me the admission price.  Bastard! 

On August 8^th, the undulating Cthulhu endorsed Sarah Palin for President of the United States. This Outer God is often described as ...an octopus, a dragon, and a human caricature and is regarded by H.P. Lovecraft as "a pulpy, tentacled head surmounted a grotesque scaly body with rudimentary wings." And that’s just Palin.

Yeah, I’m done placating the rabble.  Debating a Foxeteer is an oxymoron (hint: I’m the oxy).  Normally I can relate to any given society’s rabble, but today the Homer Simpsons of the world are in complete lockstep with the C. Montgomery Burnses of the world.  Our country doesn’t even have a proper rabble anymore!  The Tea Partiers, those angry Homers, are actually morphing into Smitherses, with one important exception…Smithers knew he was Mr. Burns’ bitch.

Holidays are excessive and outlandish, like liberal budgets.  But if you don’t get off work for them, what the hell’s the point? I did a web search on popular U.S. Holidays (I can do these now…with help). I found a list of fifty-one of them.  So let me get this straight, there are more holidays than states in the union?  Which makes me wonder, what would we do on South Dakota Day?  Anyway, I have broken down our holiday cheer into a few arbitrary and quite meaningless categories.

Let me get this straight, Roger Clemens was doping, but his only actual charge was lying under oath to Congress.  Umm, lying to Congress?  Isn’t that kind of like using magic against Voldemort?  I mean, Congress lies constantly.  This is the only language they understand.  If his deceit is proven in a court of law, maybe Clemens should be forced to represent Texas in the House of Representatives for a two-year term.  Call it perjury duty. 

Collapsing Shack, AZ—Last night, the undead rallied in front of the White House in a bid for unliving free of persecution, prejudice, and violence. The walking dead, many carrying signs smeared with blood and gore, were unable to comment.

Once again, the Crank has reduced all eternal truths into someone else’s stock options. So everything is wrong in my last post, eh? Let’s assume he’s right for a moment, ha ha ha hahahaa.  Sorry, that was funny.  Mr. Crank, you have a singular ability to misrepresent all of my positions and points.  Some would call that consistency; I call it something else.

Ok Mikkey, here is another one of those generalities you hate so much. All your statements on "climate change" "global farting" "death warmed over" or whatever you choose, are wrong. All of them (Geeh, I so love doing that).

We are at yet another critical juncture in our history and we have dumb and dumber duking it out in DC.  This is when you have to ask yourself, do you want dumb to stop dumber (D: raising the debt ceiling and revenues and then failing to reduce spending), or do you want dumber to stop dumb (R: those forcing spending cuts only)?  Oh, did I mention there’s also dumbest (the Tea Party who won’t allow any tax increases or any debt ceiling management)?  Good times…

Spiro T. Agnew was right thirty some odd years ago.  He called it how he saw it. The "Press" and its Liberal/Progressive lemmings are exactly what he said they were, "Effete intellectual snobs."  He got his ass handed to him in a mayonnaise jar for that—only he was right on the money.

Flagstaff, AZ—Brew Fests…what are they?  Why would someone attend these things?  What are the inherent dangers?  They don’t want you to know any of this, but I think the information in this post is crucial.  Here are ten simple rules that can save your life at such an event.  So let’s go do the hop.

Collapsing Shack, AZ—The Fantasy Adventuring Characters Team or F.A.C.T.s has lodged a formal complaint against, "All nay sayers, doom mongers, rapture renegers and end of dayers."  Those who have survived real fictional apocalypses are not at all impressed with these endless prophetic false alarms.

I’m only going to address the climate change piece from your recent rebuttal, Mr. Crank.  Republicans would have to officially lay me off, permanently, to muster the time and energy required to address your other "points."  You see, there are two types of thinking on your end of the aisle, the first kind kills economies and the second kind kills planets (to channel Dr. Seuss, we’ll call them Thing One and Thing Two) and the whole Thing Two, planet destroying thing is where I draw the line. 

Thank you for the accolades, true that they all are. When you get old enough, and haven’t lived in a cave, usually you get smarter—usually, not always. I do know many stupid old people. It’s called education by default. Now, down to business…

I said I would move our debate forward…ummm, I lied. I’m not saying liberals are the answer, Crankster—I never have—I’m just saying your group is almost certainly never the answer, unless the question is "my toilet’s stopped up." I’m Kidding!! I have those eco-friendly no-flush types. I’m also going to refrain from any-and-all Joe the Dumber jokes.

You know it’s too late when they start to get that glassy-eyed look—a look that can only be described as a pot head minus the beneficial "medicinal" effects. I recently went to dinner with four progressive familial units (PFU), a setting where I should refrain from speaking on any number of topics. It’s just too much to ask me to choose between Spaghetti Bolognese and terminal heartburn. I like to eat, ok. I’m circumferencely impaired. But listen, family, if you are trying to help me eat less, just keep it up. We’ll call it the Reflux Diet Plan.

Sedona, AZ—Before I start making fun of the Red Rock Café, I have to say I am a fan of this joint. It’s my favorite coffee shop in this neck of the cacti.  Their Americano is in the zone and, frankly, that’s all that matters.  However, I really need to point out a huge flaw in this establishment’s architectural and ambiancical prowess.  Yes, ambiancical is a word.  I believe the root word, biancical, means of or like Beyoncé.

Hickville, PA—I, Dave Atsals, Daily Discord contributor and bartender, have formed an exploratory committee.  Today, I throw my hat and all other articles of clothing into the ring.  My leadership is needed, for no one is better suited for the job at this critical juncture in human history—at least no one else came to mind at the all-you-can-drink poker game last night.

Egotistical, moi?  When my country is dying, sorry, I’m allowed to be a little miffed.  Frankly, I’m reaaaallly miffed!  Some things we are both angry about, but too much of your outrage is directed at things either blown out of proportion, or likely to be disproven a year from now.  But that’s OK, because by then you’ll be reacting to a whole new batch of false assumptions. 

Oh how I do wish it had come true. After much deep contemplation I have come to this realization—a realization aided by many pulled pork samichiz, Twinkies and Cokes. It is hard work, but someone other than Mikko has to do it. He cannot be trusted. I used to think that people whose opinions differed from mine were smart, caring people whose opinions just differed from mine. Then I started reading Mick Zano columns.

I hate economics.  If we weren’t about to go tits up, I would much rather be posting something about Why I Hate Light Beer, which I do by the way, but here we are...  The Republicans’ answers for our economic woes are not going to happen, or won’t work anyway.  I don’t know what they’re smoking, but it’s certainly better than the shit the Ghetto Shaman scores me.

Collapsing Shack, AZ—In a story of biblical proportions, Alex Bone has put Jonah, Pinocchio, and Natalie Wood to shame. The Discord contributor and Yig enthusiast, missing since early last month, was discovered living inside the stomach of a colossal Crawdad.

During my family’s last trip to Las Vegas, my daughter insisted on going on The Manhattan Express at the New York, New York casino.  Never do this.  It’s a harrowing rollercoaster ride, but, even more of a deterrent, it’s right by Nine Fine Irishmen. So what’s a good father to do?  I sent ‘Vegas Great’ Bald Tony on with her, of course, and started toward me Guinness.

After reluctantly accepting some forms of technology, it looks like another of my old school habits will soon be gone. To put this tale into context, I still own one of those tripod cameras with the dark cloak you throw over your head.  OK, maybe not.  But I bought some 35mm film recently, which was pretty easy and inexpensive, but getting it developed…not so much.

I now call Arizona my home, and have for six years.  But, recently, I started to consider to just what I miss and don’t miss about Lawn Guylin’.  To start with, FOOD plays a big part of what I miss. Hell, food plays a big part of what I AM. And I have news for the people of Arizona: just because an establishment has the name ‘New York’ some-fucking-where in the title, does not mean the pizza will taste as such—unless you have the wrong kinda shrooms on that bad boy.

Mick Zano: Welcome, Sean.  Thank you for taking the time to talk with me today.  As most of you know, Sean Hannity is one of the biggest names on Fox News and, therefore, one of the biggest names on cable television.  You are, by far, the biggest interview I have ever landed in my quasi-journalistic life, so again, thanks.  May I kiss your rings?

(For full effect please read in a good Sean Connery voice, or a lousy Mel Gibson voice.) Many people think Las Vegas is just hookers, Cirque du Soleil, casinos, and all-you-can-eat buffets. Sure, those things are thankfully prevalent, but there are also many festivals in the Las Vegas Valley (and on any given weekend Zano has been thrown out of most of them). I have attended the San Genarro Festival several times, the Greek Festival VII times, and I especially enjoyed getting leid multiple times at the Aloha Festival. But until a couple of weeks ago I had always missed the Celtic Gathering & Highland Games.

Prescott, AZ—This article has been a long time in the drinking. I have several crib notes on this place that have since been completely lost, which is a compliment to the establishment. I found Celtic Crossings a couple of years ago and now it has become one of my favorite Arizona Irish pubs. In fact, this pub changed my life…just not for the better.

One day in the late sixties, Carroll Shelby tried talking Bill Cosby into buying one of his Cobra Super Snake sports cars. For those who remember Cosby’s recording of "200 Miles an Hour," he wanted a car that does 200 mph to get to work. But, after just one ride, he handed back the keys—suggesting this would be better in the hands of a George Wallace, or a Buzz Aldrin, or a Starbuck of Galactica fame. The car was resold to a gentleman who promptly killed himself shortly thereafter. It was not a car to be taken lightly. The new CTS-V wagon is also not to be taken lightly.

I never thought I’d say this, but I miss the old fashioned video store.  Currently there are over 13,000 movies in my queue over on Netflix and, invariably, on any given Saturday night, none of my choices are in the mailbox.  Whew, good thing I’m out drinking on Saturday nights.

Sorry for the delay in reporting alien impressions, but I have discovered much while working deep undercover.  No, I’m not reporting on Zano’s Viagra issues…this time.  This gets even stranger than that image, so stay with me here. Sure humans are swell.  On a universal scale, we can do a whole lot more than some other species around the cosmos (that’s even when taking into consideration Daily Discord contributors).

As a psychology dude, sometimes I try to figure out where the right is coming from.  My move from the east coast to AZ was kind of like Dian Fossey’s move to the Serengeti (sorry to nitpick).  Anyway, perusing the headlines on the Drudge Report, I was about to read, More Americans Work for Gov’t than Ever...  I know, I know, but let’s give the right the benefit of the…holy crap!  My eyes shifted to the next headline. Bachmann is out fundraising Romney for the GOP nominee?!  I uttered that old Blazing Saddle’s line, "Never mind that shit, here comes Mongo!"

Alex Bone, contributor for the The Daily Discord, Priest of Yig, and founder of the Men Against Migo Association (M.A.M.A.), was reported missing last weekend. The only survivor of the Bone Gang, Mick Zano, awoke with green hair and an ‘I ♥ Bacon’ tan line across his chest.  He is currently deemed "still too disoriented" to help authorities. 

As we near the deadline for our children in Congress to play nice and pass a friggin’ budget, we hear repeated threats of a complete government shutdown (CGS). Oooh!  Noooh! Mr. Bill, stuck on Capitol Hill!  We can’t have that, now can we?  For the world will surely fold up and die, the sky will fall, plagues, locusts, and the elderly will have to eat the locusts!  And the Seventh Seal will start barking or something…

I have been living in northern Arizona for almost a few years now and I have both loved and loathed nearby Sedona.  It’s such wonderful place, a place sacred to both the Hopi and hobo alike, and yet there’s always something missing.  One thing that comes to mind is the lack of a well poured Guinness—actually, any Guinness for that matter. 

So here we go. The newest video game is titled "Rich Assholes Battle Rich Assholes II." Only it ain’t a game and WE, the sports minded public, are the ultimate losers. The economy is so far down ‘le crappeurre that even the Roto-Rooter guy has given up. We have a Pres that picks his experts like Bristol Palin picks boyfriends. We are now in THREE fucking wars, doing well enough in each to make Nam look like a swell idea. We are all doing more with less, which is why I now have a word count limit—or at least that’s what Winslow is telling me.

My first beef is with the Community Organizer & King who decided to listen to Hillary I-was-just-starting-to-like-her Clinton instead of Robert nailed-it-as-Secretary-of Defense Gates (but keep in mind, even Rommel would look good after Rumsfeld).  Obama probably thought: hell, the Clintons want action in Libya and so does McCain.  So we need to act…   Normally this would be logical, but what in the last decade has been normal?  Certainly not my blood pressure. 

We’re all toast. I can’t argue anymore, Mikko. To paraphrase the Grateful Dead, we’re all goin’ to hell in a hand basket, but where I beg to differ with Mr. Garcia is this: I am NOT enjoyin’ da ride.  The 28 days of February saw the U.S. borrow a record 266 billion dollars. That’s more than most presidents’ YEARLY deficit!   In fact, that’s more than most of the Discord contributor’s combined bar tabs…or pretty darn close.

The Sheen phenomenon is unique…er, maybe. Many of these situations are sad, tragic, and pathetic, but I would argue this is different, yet still manages to embrace all three. We all know how this is going to end, or do we? I’m telling you, this one smells different.

Most understand how scorpions loathe their aquatic brothers, the viscous crawdad. Both have segmented bodies, pinching claws, and a burning desire to kill everything that crosses their path. These spineless bastards part ways, however, when it comes to protecting the environment. Whereas scorpions drive Priuses and recycle whenever possible, crawdads are a different story.

Newt Gingrich is threatening Obama with impeachment due to the imminent constitutional crisis regarding his stance on gay marriage.  So let me get this straight (pardon the pun), secret police, secret prisons, torture, and lying the country into war are not impeachable offenses, but letting Bert and Ernie stop living a lie is?  The sooner Fox News merges with The Onion the sooner the world will start making sense to me. 

It’s been 40 years since Apollo 11 and 37 years since Apollo 17, and, perhaps more importantly, 15 years since Ron Howard’s movie Apollo 13.  One would think we’d have made significant advancements in spaceflight since Apollo 17, the last manned space-flight to the moon.  You would also think Ron Howard would have a sequel by now.  The Wright Brothers’ first flight occurred in 1903, and just about 40 years later (1947), Chuck Yeager broke the sound barrier in a rocket-powered aircraft.  Why haven’t we made any advancements in super-orbital space flight in the last four decades?  Because the manned moon landings never happened…  And now we have proof!

Obama’s budget marks the first time our Prez has shown less insight than his political adversaries.  No easy trick.  His new budget reduction attempt is a joke.  I don’t believe the theory this is all part of Obama’s master plan.  This is Obama’s completely detached ‘let them eat cake’ moment.  Wait! Michelle won’t let us eat cake anymore;  damn.

I’ve been hearing a lot about all these new cleansing techniques designed to, allegedly, help improve your body, mind, and even your spirit. Some people tend to need such things, not sure why.  It’s not like we’ve run out of beer or anything. Still, who am I to judge? Maybe it works wonders.  There are still many mysteries in the Universe.  The holy feathered serpent knows, only a few souls have found the sacred light of our savor, Yig. May his name be hissed.

Sure, I live here in the good old U.S. of A.—you won’t find me anywhere else, at least until my parole ends—but my pride in my country is faltering.  Does this make me un-American? Let’s say America is your child and he or she just started knocking over liquor stores on weekends; isn’t it better parenting to confront that child rather than ignore the problem?  America is like our bouncing baby Lindsay Lohan.  She’s been out drinking all night and the checkbook’s missing again. 

PETA has argued for years people should boycott meat, especially beef, because of the widespread inhumane treatment of the cattle.  These animals are allegedly caged or housed in overcrowded, dirty holding pens for their entire lives, much like Discord staffers.  I recently interviewed Angus Fleischflanker of Beef.org regarding allegations made by PETA.  The following is an actual transcript from that actual interview that actually happened sometime in the actual past.

Las Vegas, NV–What’s better on Valentine’s Day than some old football coverage?! Somehow I am back in Vegas for the third time already in 2011, which is three more reasons Bald Tony is considering relocating. I am back at the Riviera covering this Super Game, knowing little about football and even less about roman numerals.

The guys in the white hats finally won out over the guys with the black hats. Good has triumphed over evil, yet again. No, I ain’t talking about the final score, per se. I am talking about three particular players that had a lot to do with the score. And, believe it or not, one of these players wasn’t even in the game.  

Las Vegas, NV—Just a few short weeks ago, the Cosmopolitan opened on the Las Vegas Strip, and, of course, the Discord was there to cover it. Of all the neat and wonderful things to discover and enjoy in this newest Strip casino, the biggest surprise turned out to be the pizza place. I have been sworn not to tell anyone where it is. It has no name. Seriously…think of it as the world’s first speakcheesy. No, they're not allowed to use that line.

I never much cared for the top ten type list thingies, of course, on a related note, Humor Links.com has The Discord handily beating The Onion, but, then again, only eight people voted this month and seven of them were me.  This post is critical of RockSong.com’s top 500 classic rock songs of all time.  Just to set the record straight, I only pointed out the things that reeeaallly pissed me off…

It seems as though the powers that be in New York decided to wrongly arrest over 120 honest Italian-American businessmen for so-called organized crime connections. Thanks to the New York Village Voice here are some of those patriots:

So I attended this Barbizon thing, well, from a distance (aka, the hotel bar).  I watched the scores of Barbie wannabes marching into Ballroom A from my stool.

I snuck over and listened outside for a time and heard the speaker say, "We are only going to choose several girls in this room today."

That’s all I needed to hear.

In 1947, the board of directors of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists at the University of Chicago first published the Doomsday Clock.  It reflected the potential for catastrophic destruction of human kind (initially from nuclear annihilation and eventually from Daily Discord articles).

Nowhere, AZ—So, unbeknownst to me, my daughter fills out this Barbizon form in school and she gets this phone call yesterday to come down to their studio for a free interview.  This meeting is Sunday morning, which is normally our church time.  OK, really it’s Fareed Zakaria: GPS time, over on CNN, which is a religious experience in its own right.  Forgive me Fareed for I have blogged.

Collapsing Shack, AZ—Over the past decade the use of ATVs has become more popular than ever, surpassing even the killing of harmless animals, the shooting of illegal immigrants, or other culturally important redneck pastimes (CIRP).   The following observation on those who choose to drive an ATV is sadly accurate.  The names have been changed to protect...I really didn’t get their names.  Too much gurgling from all the blood in their throats. 

My New Year’s resolution is no more stories about Fox News.  Oh, oh, wait, but there’s one more thing… The Crank’s view, as always, suspiciously resembles Fox’s and can be summed up thusly: socialism = bad, cutting spending = good.  Very helpful—well, not really—not when this all-or-Fox thinking threatens to block any meaningful fiscal reform.  Here’s what we should be taking away from this year in politics: some Advil.

In 2010, the Libertard hoard provided an un-heavenly host of issues to crank upon: religion, socialism, political correctness, all of Mikko's favorite topics. As the year comes to a close and the hoard has been overrun and ousted from at least one branch our government, thank God, the time has come to finalize some key points we should take away from 2010.

Zano begged me to give him another chance, so, being the kind-hearted soul I am, I decided to dispatch him over to Vegas.  We arranged to have him upload some live feeds to me from the Riviera during the New Year’s Eve festivities.  We were going to incorporate Twitter, it was going to be great—and what did I get for my trouble?  Bupkis.  I got less than bupkis, I got bupk.

After the last connection was made, I plugged in my daughter’s new X-Box 360 to herald the start of the virtual holiday season (VHS). Never mind, only Bald Tony still has a VHS. Once complete, a red light suddenly appeared within a foreboding aperture. It stared right at me, nay, right through me. Soon it was moving and following my movements around the room as we played. When I finally went to shut it off, I expected it to say, "I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dave." Machines always call me Dave. I don’t know what that’s all about.

Collapsing Shack, AZ—The following is an actual account of something that happened in my personal life.  Let me tell you what happened to my friend Billy. Well, parts of it…

It seems each year when Christmas rolls around, we once again hear the outcry of political correctness.  The holiday most celebrated by Americans (and some abroad) goes under siege.  As the Crank points out, Tis the ‘Christ’ out of the Christmas season again.  What’s next?  Take the nukka out of Hanukkah?  Take the Ramada out of Ramadan?  The zaa out of Kwanzaa?  Take the birth out of Birthday?  The Bud out of Buddha?  Wait, scratch that last one. 

It’s Merry Christmas. It’s Happy Hanukkah. It’s Yo Kwanza. Screw the Solstice. Sticka’ the Wicca.  Fuck the Festivus. Kill all the politically correct shit, please.  If you won’t, I will.  In the immortal words of Bill Bixby, "Don’t make me angry, you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry."

Some things have been bothering me lately, like alternate street parking.   I have been trying to wrap my head around all the things impacting our country.  It’s better than what I used to do to with my free time.  Oh, and Potter County Police, you’ll never find her by the river, you bastards!  Mwahahahhaha!

The Daily Discord has ordered a freeze on any further adolescent humor on this site.   Toilet humor, inappropriate pranks, and hurtful juvenile gags are all hereby eradicated from this e-zine.  Evolution is real, so surely this fine publication can evolve as well.  But with this proclamation comes a warning, for if it does not improve in this area, I will no longer be a regular contributor (Pthtthhht).  Oh come on!  Edit that out, Winslow.  Damn you!