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LADIES OF THE HANOVER BRIDGE CLUB GO PUBLIC WITH THEIR "GO TO
HELL" ATTITUDE
PORTLAND, OR- A simple game of bridge turned drastically wrong
Wednesday when seven members of the Hanover Bridge Club reportedly
broke into a local country club.
"They asked us to leave," claimed Martha Maynard, leader of the
group. "We have every right to play our harmless game."
Sources say the ladies were insisting on staying and playing, even
after regular club hours. The scene turned violent when Marty
Stellersman asked the ladies, repeatedly, to leave.
"They come in here all the damn time," reported Marty. "They act
like they own the place. They sit there for damn near two hours
every time. Get no food, just coffee. And expect me to keep re-
filling their damn cup every two minutes, even though they don't
tip for shit. Plus they smell like old women."
Apparently Martha thought Marty was being "brash" in his methods
of getting them out the door.
"That little bastard thinks that, because our boobs look like six
pound rocks thrown into an old pair of socks and attached to our
chests, that he can just boss us around. Well I'll tell you, he's
got another thing coming," shouted Martha.
The country club is having to replace a broken window caused by
a chair being hailed through it, and the bar area is looking to
replace their entire stock of liquor, after the women poured every
last bit of it on the tied and gagged Marty.
The notorious mob has not been seen since the incident, so it's
possible that they're mobile, and relocating. Be on the lookout,
and if you see any suspicious old ladies playing bridge, contact
us at RadicalComedy.com.
Tim@radicalcomedy.com
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LOCAL BOMB-SQUAD EMPLOYEES GAIN SENSE OF HUMOR
Venice Beach, CA- The California Bomb-Squad has never been known for
their sharp sense of humor until Marvin Felpcheck took over as Chief
of Affairs.
"We don't need to be so damn serious all the time," claimed Felpcheck. "I mean, it's not like we're running the Pentagon or
anything."
Apparently entry-level Bomb Squad employees are enthused about the
new Chief of Affairs.
"His first day he showed up in a bright orange pair of Parachute
pants and a bright red shirt that said, in air-brush, 'I'm
the Bomb.' He looked like a damn circus employee," laughed Joe
Turk, new member of the Bomb Squad. "Then he went around all day
insisting that everyone 'Handle him with care... because he was
explosive.' What a hoot."
Felpcheck has also been a notorious prankster. Sources say that
while technicians were trying to examine the wiring on an explosive,
Felpcheck would come behind them with a paper bag and pop it, nearly
sending the tense victim into a coma.
"That's something you'll laugh about when you're 80," is the excuse
Felpcheck reportedly used when questioned by higher-ranking
government officials. "They need to lighten-up," He concluded.
If you need your house or workplace cleared of explosives, let us
know at RadicalComedy.com....
mailto:Tim@ientry.com
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 CAR NOT HELPING AREA MAN GET LAID
Despite having devoted countless leisure hours and a sizable chunk of
his minimum wage pay to making his car a "pimpmobile", area
Rastafarian Howard Jones is not actually getting laid any more than
when his Dodge Colt was decorated primarily with rust and fast food
containers, it was reported Monday.
"This all seemed like a good idea to attract babes when it came to me.
I was sitting around smoking some dank weed and listening to Toots
and the Maytals when it suddenly hit me -- girls like cool cars. The
video store doesn't pay me enough to buy a new car, or even pay the
insurance for the one I've got, so I started thinking about what I
could do to make the Colt look a little better. And that's when the
brain really kicked into overdrive, and I mapped out all these great
ideas on the back of the pizza box", said Jones.
Jones' diagram, hastily scribbled and in spots blurred by grease,
features a box and two circles, and various notes such as
"dingle balls around back window" and "furry hubcaps".
"You know, come to think of it, all the ideas I've come up with
recently have been duds, including my 2-foot lighted bingo marker
made with lite-brite pegs and a mailing tube. I thought these things
would get me some attention from the girls, and they have, but it's
just hard to approach a girl convulsing with fits of uncontrollable
laughter."
Dave Coleman, Jones' best friend, hopes his buddy's luck turns around
soon.
"I hope Howie's luck turns around soon. He needs to get laid. It's
all he ever fucking talks about. Maybe if he finds a nice girl, he'll
quit wasting all this time gluing beads to his exhaust pipe."
A quick survey of girls who have seen the car indicates this is
unlikely to happen.
"I think I might paint a lion wearing a crown onto the hood, if I
can save up enough money for some spray paint. I think that will
really help. I hope it does anyway. What's a guy have to do to get
laid? Haile fucking Selassie."
By Schuyler Warren, Web Developer and Contributing Writer
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