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Friday, August 26, 2005

Politics shaves another stash! 

Well, as far as the Political Calendar (followed by politicians and Bush lovers alike) goes, that's one more year for Politics of the Business. In honor politics' 3rd year, we're offering a free subscription to the 25th person who emails us! The official date, for those of you who still haven't shaved it into your pubic hair, is August 25th.


And, yep, we've been through quite a bit over the past year, O'Carreigh Carr and I.

First, there was that hilarious mistake with misconception. Then the dolphin breeding experiment. Then there was the Great Grease Fire of February 4th, the birth of 'larfing', the time we did shots of Everclear and vowed never to do them again, or instead die. Then there was the Old Times Photo.. and after the picture was taken I leaned over and remarked, "Gee.... NATALIE, you did a really good job taking that picture, now how about a kiss?" We were all holding Red Bull in that picture, and I the Jack Daniel's.

There was the time we stole the giant sign from outside MacDonalds that announced "Two can dine for 9.98$". One time, I swear someone tried to eat a mickey after they drank it. I dropped my number into numerous girl's cellphones, only to have them call the next day, and an uncomprehensible conversation with a Chinese man ensue. Another time, I could have sworn I remember Carr eating 6 McDeals, while I drank a beer at the shit in a tray merchants. There may have also been a sweatshirt with the words "College" emblazoned across the front. That was long lusted for.

Then there was the day I woke up at 6PM, setting the new standard for sleeping through the afternoon. I was promptly alerted that dinner would be served when I got home, and to that I smiled. I did, however, need to shower off the dried rum and lube-spiked-hair from the night before. I spent an hour that evening searching for the remote, only to find it under the dog. How ironically it symbolised a summer of foreign capital investment ventures coorelating the ever-rising Consumer Price Index. Marvelous.

We went biking, oh, we went biking, and the holiness of those sessions can only be remembered through the quotation of a passage from Brendancies 13:4, "And the new Wheelset came unto the people and there it lay, for all to admire the shining eyelets, crystal clear nipples, and the delectable - and free whatmore! - rim tape."

Then one night I remember very vaguely involved a walk across the bridge by IGA, and a solemn hymn to the hams which had gracefully been ran over, their suits soiled, and their stocking feet then stripped from their lower loins as we threw them rather deliberately over the railing. The hams themselves had n'er received a more anointing treatment.

Then one time we found ourselves on the roof of a school, and after a brief period of calling all the alien friends we could think of in hopes of a probing abduction, we just decided the throw shit off the roof.

And an uncountable number of nights that were winding down saw Carr chasing rabbits, across lawns in the westend.


True to our words, politics remained, and will remain, a sporing ground for the odd, the weird, the gross, the various hilarious, and of course, the unecessarily sexual.

And to that, I'll larf.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

To the assholes with city transit would jacked the student (weekday limited bus pass) to 23$ for the separate system, and 30$ for the public: Thanks. You're setting the future generation back another step.

Thanks too for raising University bus passes to 59$ a month. Which University kid even makes 59$ a month with 4 classes, all while running with the Bell curve.

You're doing the future a real favor.

P.S. Routes 3, 4, 7, 9, 12, 23, 114, 115, 119, 150, 170, 202, 204, 207, Have been cancelled.

Thank you, thank you.


In other news, Robert A. Moog, the make of the famous Moog synthesizer, responsible for synthing songs by names like Mannfred Mann all the way to The Chemical Brothers, died Sunday in Asheville. He was 71.

wu-tang is for the children * at work, 9-1; 5-7 mon-thurs says:
yeah man, im pumped

wu-tang is for the children * at work, 9-1; 5-7 mon-thurs says:
i am pompei-d, as the pompeians would say

Monday, August 22, 2005

A little fellatio done well, is far better than a lot of fellatio done wrong.

-Fellaness 3:17

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Thanks to the assholes who planned the province's 100th birthday celebrations on September 1rst, the day we all go back to school. Obviously, all the commemorating commercials featuring Alberta's youth waving flags and grinning for the Premier mean nothing.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Bazookatooth is one bad mothafucka 

Upon finding the following poll, much confusion insued.





Politics, after a poor attempt to decipher the meaning, resolved to vote.
Later, Baretopea tried to take a stab at it:

the return of the product says:
it makes noooo sense!

barretopea- does bigfoot exist?.. more like do bison exist. says:
no, it does

barretopea- does bigfoot exist?.. more like do bison exist. says:
cause this lady said she saw bigfoot, and she had fur

barretopea- does bigfoot exist?.. more like do bison exist. says:
and the fur tested to be bison fur

the return of the product says:
i know,

the return of the product says:
thats exactly why it DOESNT make sense

barretopea- does bigfoot exist?.. more like do bison exist. says:
true

The article, albeit humorous, has still not been linked to the poll in any way.


In other quarries of information, the Edmonton Journal is doing a bang-up job of reporting local events. The following is an actual headline taken from a recent paper:

"Couple just bought puppy". - From B2 August 2nd.

Although no one can always expect reporting that is engaging, interesting and relevant, the Journal adds new meaning to news coverage



In other news:
K-nizzle, Shave a mans back and he will pur like a walrus. says:
so i have pink eye and strep throat

low brow, low brim. she asked, "what's the name?" says:
which hospital floor did you make out with?


You got a new horizon it's ephemeral style,
In a melancholy where we never smile.


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