Heya folks. Brandon here. I’ve decided that today there shall be no comics. Instead, I offer up a couple articles of fake news I wrote a few years back for a job application with The Onion. Obviously they didn’t hire me, but I came across these whilst cleaning out folders and thought some of you might get a kick out of reading them. They were my first real attempt at writing humor, so feel free to give me plenty of shit.
Local Man Wins Panhandler of the Year Award
Denver- Presently local man “Soupbone” Samson was happy to be the recipient of this year’s Colorado Panhandler of the Year Award.
According to award judge, Reverend Moondog, “Soupbone is a pioneer in the field. He’s taking vagabonds to the next frontier in business enterprise.” Indeed, having been credited with creating the non-violent intimidation technique, termed ‘kittyhawking,’ he is truly a master of his art.
At approximately twenty-nine years of age, Mr. Samson is well on his way to the top of curbside entrepreneurship. If he keeps earning at his current rate, he will soon be in the running for the Panhandler Nationals competition held annually in New York City. “After that,” warns a fellow colleague with a shudder, “he be well on his way to payin’ taxes.” At least for the rest of the competing field, this would be a relief, as lack of a taxable income is one of the Guild of Panhandlers’ first requirements for membership.
“Soupbone’s numbers are constantly in the black,” says Moondog from the porthole of his Maytag refrigerator box, “which isn’t surprising considering his aggressive, yet naturally pathetic approach to begging. Of course he was a shoe-in. Well, if he owned a pair of shoes, that is.”
Mr. Samson could not be reached at home for comment.
Man Looking For Waldo Inadvertently Finds Jesus
Denver- Local man Timothy Weed was sorely disappointed to find that a gag-gift given by his brother contained not the well-known explorer Waldo, but a tiny figure of Jesus hidden within the puzzling background of each page.
“I just don’t understand what the big fuss is all about. I mean my cousin Walter found Jesus when he was twenty-four, and made it out to be this monumental experience. To tell you the truth, I was pretty disappointed. I don’t know, I guess I just kind of feel a little gypped.” Indeed, he is not alone in his sentiments. Where’s Waldo publisher, Candlewick, is outraged at the removal of beloved character Waldo by recently acquired art editor Tom Bungole.
When approached on the matter, Bungole cited his bold decision to replace the lanky candy-striper with the Prince of Peace in his personal quest to morally strengthen what he sees as “dangerously unwholesome education” of children.
“It practically condones pedophilic activity,” says Bungole. “I mean, we can’t be teaching children to seek the company of a male drifter who hides from plain sight. And wearing red and white stripes no less? It’s blatant manipulation of their subconscious desires for saccharine sweets.”
Mr. Bungole believes that children should be encouraged not to find Waldo, but to find Jesus, and consequently “spend more time with older role models that are more morally dedicated. Like a Catholic priest, maybe.”
Apparently, Mr. Weed was unimpressed with his experience of finding Christ and so did what he decided any reasonable person would do. “I fed it to my goats. Honestly, what the hell am I gonna do with a Where’s Waldo book without Waldo? I mean that’s like buying Busty Brunette Babes #42, and finding out all the women in it look like this Jesus guy. Nobody wants to see that. Trust me, I’ve dated my fair share of hippie chicks.”
Well, there you have it in writing, my friends: the reason why I was promptly fired from my brief stint in legitimate journalism. That reason of course being that I never take anything seriously. Especially the news. Except for that one time I wrote an interview article for a local rag about the current World's Strongest Man, and he hated it so much that he broke his crayon in several smeary spots writing a scathing complaint to my editor. Meh. You win some, you lose some. And then you win some on default, purely for actually knowing how to correctly spell "Dear Edditor."
Random post for a random Thursday.
Beer: Colorado Native
Music: The Gaslight Anthem