November 12, 2009 | Issue 45•46

FORT HOOD, TX—Following Army psychologist Nidal Malik Hasan's shooting rampage on the Fort Hood military base last week that left 13 people dead and 30 others injured, fellow Muslims across the nation sent him a message today, saying "thanks a fucking bunch, asshole," to the 39-year-old killer. "Hey, great, eight years of progress right down the shitter," St. Cloud, MN resident Zahida Naseem said at one of dozens of impromptu rallies held nationwide. "And you just had to scream 'Allahu Akbar' while you did it, didn't you? May as well have put on a turban and rode a fucking camel right through the army base, you dick. Thanks for making the foreseeable future a living hell for normal, peace-loving Muslims in this country. Really appreciate it!" American Sikhs are also reportedly enraged with Hasan, and an official statement from the National Sikh Heritage Center read, in part, "look, we got nothing to do with that guy."

By A 750-Milliliter Bottle of Whiskey  ||  The Onion

Ah, pardon me, milady. May I have a word? I trust you're enjoying tonight's festivities? I should say I am. Nothing stirs the blood quite like an evening of dancing, conversing, and libations, wouldn't you say? My apologies for the confusion; while I'm aware that you have been speaking with the gentleman here, I should let you know that, as he has now imbibed a considerable proportion of my contents, the conversational duties will henceforth fall to yours truly.

I think we've heard quite enough from him by now, anyhow.

I should clarify: You began a conversation with a somewhat charming and erudite man, and now you shall be interacting solely with me, the substance contained within an ordinary bottle of whiskey. The shift is slightly jarring, I'll admit, and perhaps even unsettling. Nevertheless, let me assure you that this is as he intended. By consuming nearly half my contents, he elected to have me act as his proxy in all manner of interpersonal communications.

You'll be getting to know me quite well over the next three hours, or at least until I take over his body in toto and pass out in the nearest chair, whichever comes first. If you care to listen, I believe you'll find many of my anecdotes and opinions fascinating. For example, were you aware that it took him nearly half an hour to drive himself here because the Chinaman in front of him never learned to read a damned speedometer?

Now, now, please—calm yourself. Before you jump to conclusions, know that I am not being deliberately racist. No, that's just the sort of unfiltered "from the hip"—if I can use the vernacular—statements you can expect for the rest of the night. I'll be unearthing many facets of his personality of which he himself was previously unaware, as represented by the aforementioned racially charged remark, a few half-baked political notions, and a long, rambling explanation of why his former romantic partner was so wrong to abandon him despite the fact that he dedicated nearly three years of his life to her and who in the hell was she to imply that he was incapable of loving anyone but himself?

This reminds me, I have also been tasked with undertaking all possible romantic endeavors tonight. Most likely this will occur in the form of an awkward pass; perhaps I'll lean in to brush your hair out of your face but inadvertently poke you in the eye, because I will have control of his motor functions as well.

Have I mentioned that you have great tits?

My apologies, that was merely an observation intended as a compliment. I can see how it might be misinterpreted, but believe me, I had only the purest intentions at heart. In matters of beauty, I prefer to do away with formalities, and in point of fact, they are quite impressive as far as tits are concerned.

I say, is that Van Halen I hear? Ah, splendid. Permit me to scream "Hell, yeah! Turn that shit up, goddamn it!" Also, if you would be so kind as to indulge me in this opportunity to pantomime playing multiple instruments. I am infrequently afforded a setting in which to clumsily pretend I am performing before an audience I imagine to be appreciative, and I must say I do enjoy it so.

Panama! Whoo! Panama-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…Pana…. Fucking Panama!

Well now, I suppose at this point you should know that I am also assuming the duties ordinarily filtered by his sense of decorum and dignity. This will result in some spectacularly bad dancing, as well a fair amount of drooling. I may also stand over a bowl of chips and shovel them into my mouth with the same glassy-eyed stare one sometimes sees on a particularly unintelligent dog or cow. But fear not! If I should overstep some social convention, you may inform me in any way you see fit without fear of consequence, as my charge will have no recollection of it the next day.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I've been slighted by that gentleman who just bumped into me, and I feel that the only way to maintain my honor is to call him a fucking faggot and engage in fisticuffs. I've enjoyed this chat, and look forward to talking once again, assuming I don't decide that I'm going to take over tonight's driving duties as well.

Redskins Hold Press Conference To Announce They Are Still Sort Of A Football Team  |  The Onion

October 20, 2009 | Issue 45•42 | Onion Sports

WASHINGTON—Washington Redskins head coach Jim Zorn held a press conference Sunday to reassure fans that, despite an inability to effectively execute their offense, defense, or special teams, the Redskins were still somewhat comparable to a real football team. "It's been a tough season so far, and even though we are 2-4, we still have players, uniforms, Motorola headsets—all the components that technically constitute an NFL team, sort of," Zorn said while grimacing and making a "so-so" gesture with his hand. "Sure, I was stripped of play-calling responsibilities by team management, and I really don't have any clue who will play quarterback for us this Sunday, but I swear to you, in a weird, very convoluted way, we are in the NFL." Placing his hand over the microphone, Zorn then spoke briefly with an unidentified man near the stage, and announced that, for what it's worth, the organization owns the Internet domain name washingtonredskins.com through 2010.

"I Hate People" - New Jemina Pearl Video (Feat. Iggy Pop & Thurston Moore)

We've been through this already, but it bears repeating because it keeps happening: In 2009 Iggy Pop somehow became the king of oddball duets (often with younger ladies). He's also the best part of this campy video for Jemina Pearl's Break It Up lead "I Hate People" even though he doesn't physically show up for the shoot. The clip -- situated in a very hip diner employing both a nervous, bespeckled Thurston Moore and a burnt-out Pearl -- follows a she-works-hard-for-the-money storyline to its conclusion. Jemina can take it from there.

Working for the weekend:

Jemina Pearl (Feat Iggy Pop) - "I Hate People" (MP3)

Break It Up is out via Ecstatic Peace/Universal.