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I Will Cherish This Inauguration Day Porta-Potty Turd Forever

A National Nitwit Inauguration Exclusive
By Evan Banister, D.C. hipster

Change Has Come…to Banister’s Bowels

Years from now, long after America has recovered from this economic tailspin, and our standing around the world returns to its hallowed status, and I’m all old n’ stuff having forgotten the sweet glory of a blowjob, I will turn to my grandchildren and say, from whatever side of my mouth the stroke leaves working, “I shat on the National Mall the day Barack Obama took his oath of office.”

Now I know some folks find the Porta-Potty to be a disgusting cesspool of filth and disease, but let me tell you: after fifteen Miller Lites and three of those bad-ass Vegan enchiladas Susan packed in the cooler, I had no qualms about spreading my cheeks on the same seat as my fellow countrymen, regardless of whether or not they had crotch crickets.

Today was about hope. Today was about change. Today my catastrophic whale-bellow farts reverberated off those thin plastic walls while Aretha Franklin’s soulful voice crooned over this nation’s fair capitol.

So when I tell my grandchildren, through bouts of drool and hacking, that I pooped a mere five hundred yards from America’s greatest president on the day he set a straighter course, they will gently pat my ass with wonder.

And then promptly change my Depends.


Crackhead Recalls Flight 1549 Horror

Crackhead Left: Accident witness "Tweaky"

(New York, NY) Local crack cocaine afficianado "Tweaky" Williams, recuperating from what he described as "trauma and shit," described for reporters his "close call with death and shit" in the wake of the US Airways Flight 1549 accident in the Hudson River yesterday.

"I just finished sparking up this dime rock I scored after selling some plasma when I saw the plane fly overhead," the former Toledo, OH native recalled, visibly shaken at his experience. "The next thing I knew, it got obscured by a bunch of buildings, and I filled up my stem for another bodayshus hit."

Tweaky said that after exhausting his supply of crack cocaine, his buzz was interrupted by the sound of screaming sirens.

"I gotta admit - I was paranoid as shit," he told reporters, scratching his left arm and looking agitated. "I thought the police was after my ass, but I deduced straight up that they was heading for the [Hudson] river. Close call, my friends, close call."

The magnitude of the accident "totally hit home" when Tweaky passed a Broadway appliance store several hours later.

"I looked in the display window, and there it all was: plane, freezing waters, people being pulled into boats," he said, jerking his head toward unseen persons behind him. "I thought to myself: 'Shit, Tweaky, that coulda been you, if you had a job and were flying someplace or shit.' I mean, life comes at you fast, right? Listen - my car broke down, and I need some money so I can drive to Jersey and visit my kid for his birthday, but I spent my last $20 on medicine for my other kid. Any of you reporters got ten bucks to help old Tweaky out?"


Jilted Pedophile "Hurt" After Being Dumped for Younger Man

(Terre Haute, IN) Craig Baxter believed that he and his junior high sweetheart had "the perfect relationship." That, at least, was until ex-girlfriend Kylee Andersson delivered him a breakup letter last week, sealed with a heart-shaped Bratz Passion sticker.

"We shared everything together - long AIM chats, telephone calls in the middle of the night, going shopping at the mall while I pretended to be 'Daddy' to keep the security guards from getting freaked," the 55-year-old accountant said. "But I guess when Kylee's profile said that she was a 'mature' 12-year-old, she was just stringing me along. And her whole 'Best Friends Forever' bullshit? Lies, just lies."

Baxter met Kylee in a room at TeenChatPlanet.com, and he said the two "hit it off right away."

"We shared a lot of the same interests: hanging out with our teen friends, keeping special secrets, and dreaming of finding that one true love," he reminisced, wiping away a small tear. "That, and freaky motel sex. Or so I thought, because the next thing I know she's hooked up with some 25-year-old skateboarding asshole who delivers pizzas. PIZZAS! I mean - what is she thinking? What kind of security is there in that?"

Visits to the mall will never be the same for the forlorn Baxter

Most importantly, said Baxter, he is going to be "much more careful" in the future as he assesses his love interests.

"Honestly, my roller-coaster ride with Kylee has taken more out of me than any of the other young girls I've dated," he admitted, pausing to clean his glasses, which fogged up at the painful memories. "I'm not just going to put my soul out there like that for every Missy or Jamie who comes along, and you can bet I'm going to have to think twice if Kylee calls, begging me to take her back. A guy can only give so much or his heart, you know, before it breaks forever."


It’s Another Lonely New Year’s Jerkin’ Off to Natalie Portman

A National Nitwit Guest Editorial
By Biff Saidoff, Brooklyn-area Cab Driver

Saidoff: Lubed and Ready

How ya doin’. Seems like every fuckin’ year goes by faster than a purse snatcher—I drive my shifts, watch the Yanks shit their fuckin’ diapers, and BOOM—I’m another year balder with this fuckin’ gout.

And what with the ex-wife in Chicago, and not a date in nine months, yada yada, it’s gonna be another lonely New Year’s jerking off to Natalie Portman.

You probably know Natalie Portman from all her fuckin’ flicks—The Professional, that shitty new Star Wars trilogy, V for Vendetta—the list is longer than a fuckin’ horse dong. I’m not really a movie buff myself, but this will be the fourth year runnin’ that I crack out the Jergens and Puffs Plus.

Portman: Like a Friggin’ Jalapeno

It’s hard to describe the fuckin’ uncontrollable hotness of this broad. She’s half Jew, has tits perkier than a coked-up terrier, and hardly brushes her friggin’ hair. I can’t go two minutes in one of her movies without thinkin’ about goin’ balls fuckin’ deep on that tiny little bod she gots.

So if you’re out there Natalie, and you happen to read this, I know my fuckin’ mug is uglier than a sewer grate, but I’d give you the ride of your fuckin’ life.

And it would sure beat milkin’ my cannoli another year, that’s for sure.

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