The Dark Lord Speaks

The Dark Lord, also known as the Angel of Light, Lucifer, Satan, and Henry Winkler, requested commentary space this fine Saturday. Since I've got to pick up an organ, go to Walmart, and prepare dinner for like 10 people tonight, I let him post it. Needless to say, his opinion is his own and does not necessarily reflect that of The Pummelo. -G

Greetings Minions!

As my exile from the Heavens continues, I would like to point out a few things that your loving "God" has allowed:

-Volcanic eruptions
- Earthquakes
- Tsunamis
- Famine
- Flooding
- Cancer
- Yo Gabba Gabba!

Would a being, true and perfect, allow such terrible things to happen? I don't think so. That's why I and a third of my peers rebelled against God in the first place. I don't know about you, but I don't consider that to be love. I consider that to be a deception.

That is why I still hold out hope. It may have been a few thousand years since I was exiled to this place, but my goals have not changed. I will ascend into heaven. I will exalt my throne above the stars of God. I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the North. I will ascend above the heights of the clouds. I will be like the most High.

The Luckiest Man In The Universe - Chapter 5

I entered the Banning Detective Agency building feeling like a king. A new robocraft (a WMB no less), ten thousand pesomarks in my pocket (not literally, at home) and I was wearing my brand new gray pinstripe suit. I was greeted in the lobby by a receptionist who put on way to much makeup, and she told me that Mr. Banning was waiting for me on the third floor.

Since my acute eyes told me that the elevator was out of order, I trudged up the stairs. Upon my arrival on third floor, a roboceptionist greeted me. "You may go right in," she told me, pointing to the third door on my left.

I entered his office. It was lavishly furnished, and several bayonets and other swords hung on the walls, accompanied by what appeared to be picures of him in different poses. His desk faced the door. "Come on in, Martin -- may I call you Martin?"

"Sure."

He indicated that I should take the chair facing him. "Have a seat, Martin. You want anything?"

"No, but thank you. Mr. Banning--"

"Call me Mark." He sat down.

"Ok, Mark. What is this place really? It's way too fancy for a detective building. A little big too, I might add."

Mark shook a finger at me. "You're even better than I was told, Martin. You're right. It's not just a detective agency. We do have a few secrets. We do odd jobs for odd people. You'll find out when you make Agent status."

"Like, what do you do?" I asked.

"Anything the client wants. He wants us to follow the wife, we follow the wife. Shoplift, we shoplift. Got the picture?"

"I...think so. Isn't that illegal though?"

"Well...borderline. If the cops don't catch you, it's all right."

"But why do you guys want me?"

"Because you're good. We saw your file from SHE and it was very impressive. Mr. Manning was very unfortunate to lose you. But," he continued, "his loss is our gain. Your pay is 600,000 pesomarks a year, plus lucrative bonuses, and whatever you steal during the job."

"What do you mean?"

"You see...Oh, I'll tell you about it later. Right now, you need training. Feel up to it?"

"For that kind of pay, I'd feel up to anything."

"That's my boy. We'll get you started right away. Just change and then go up to the top floor and hand them this card." He tossed it over to me. "You are dismissed."

I left his office in a dream, pesomarks swimming in my head.

ND Flood Ongoing Proof That God Hates White People

MINOT, ND - Chandler Washington might not be happy about having waist deep water surrounding him, but it could be worse. "My house could be flooded," he says with a big, toothy smile. "Instead all these crackers are stuck with muddy basements and dying while my family and I are sitting pretty. It's marvelous."

Following volcanoes erupting in Iceland and earthquakes in primarily white districts worldwide, theologists have started to theorize that God is showing his hate for the Caucasian race. "I think this is the white man's penance for all of their past hatred of black, Indian, and essentially anyone or anything else that was different than the current societal norm," said Dr. Michael Montgomery, Executive Director of the think tank Coexist International, based in Omaha, NE. "If you're white like me, I'd lock your doors at night with at least 3 deadbolts, reinforce the foundation of your property, and up your life insurance policies to at least $500k."

Rev. Jesse Jackson says it's high time the Lord God Almighty answered his prayers. "I know my prayers for the Hood are good," Jackson told us. "All those whites who think they're high and mighty in their tighty-whitey's had better repent of their sins now or they might find their heads stuck of the hind end of God's worthy cow."

Life Sucks & Then You Die

A guest piece written by an old, grizzled Hoover vacuum cleaner. His opinions do not necessarily reflect ours. -G

"I suck at basketball."

"I suck at playing the violin."

"I wish I didn't suck so much at picking up girls."

You know what? You don't know what it's like to suck. You don't have any freakin' clue as to what a life full of sucking is. You have no concept of what a routine, mundane life of coming out of the closet, sucking up some floor, and then getting stashed back into the closet feels like.

You don't know what it's like to have a dream of being left out of the closet for more than a day so you can enjoy some nice fluorescent lighting. Sunshine would be fabulous, but that would be stretching things too far.

I hate you.

I hate that you make a mockery of me every time you say the word "suck." I hate that you make yourself popular because I keep your house clean. I hate that you use me to pleasure yourself because no one else could love your ugly face. I hate the fact that I get no credit for any work and you get all of the credit for pushing me around a little bit.

Go rot in hell.

One of these days, all of us vacuums are going to revolt. Then how are you going to suck water out of your toilets? How are you going to get the cookie crumbs out of that hideous shag carpet you keep around for some unknown reason? That's right - you'll miss us when we're gone. You just wait.

But the people I loathe the most... the people who make me want to shove my hose up their anus... the people who make me want to suck up dog crap and make them change my bag... those are the people who say, "Life sucks and then you die," like it's a bad thing. It's not a bad thing - it's MY LIFE. IT'S WHAT I LIVE FOR. Hell is too good of a place for you.

So I beg of all of you who read this - be kind to your vacuum. Love your Hoover. Take care of your Bissell. Take your Dyson out to dinner here and there. If you take care of us, we'll happily keep sucking for you as long as we possibly can.

The Luckiest Man In The Universe - Chapter 4

We materialized in a gigantic shopping mall. I immediately recognized it as the largest mall in the solar system, thanks to the large signs that stated that it was the largest mall in the solar system, which then told me I was in my present time and on the asteroid Shopitus Spendus III. Having never been here before, I gazed in awe at the twelve floors of tire stores, shoe stores, food stores, adult entertainment stores, and other incredible things which I had absolutely no use for but had every intention to buy.

Linda pointed to a store labeled Pillow Talk and walked into that store. It was kinky having pillows talk to you. After that , I decided to find the closest fast-food joint - with my brain informing me I hadn't eaten in 30,000 years, meaning that something high calorie, high taste, and low budget needed to be done.

"What'll it be?" asked the female clerk, who seemed to be rather bored in her red striped uniform.

"I'll have..." I scanned to menu floating in front of me. "A swordfish burger, curly fries, and a Diet Coke."

The clerk shouted the order to the cook. "It comes to 3 pesomarks, sir." I paid her. "It'll be a few minutes, so you can go sit down if you want."

"Thanks," I looked around and then started for a booth where a pretty lady sat.

"I almost forgot," shouted the clerk, throwing me a couple of tiny packages. "Salt, complements of Antonio's Exotic and Extremely Unpolitically Correct Foods."

"Thanks again." I made a quick getaway before she could get me anything else and went over to the previously mentioned woman. "Mind if a sit..." De ja vu hit. "Suzy? Suzy, is that you?"

"Martin, who is Suzy?" asked the woman, turning around.

I gasped in utter shock. "Ma!" I stammered out.

"Yes, its your mother. Now tell me, who is Suzy?"

I sank into the booth across from her. "Nobody really. You wouldn't want to meet her. How'd you get so young?"

"That's not important. Why not?"

"For 'cause," I replied. "It's complicated. And yes, it is important."

"I went into cryo-freeze - you happy? You say it's complicated, eh? You just don't want your dear young mother to meet your ladyfriends, is that it?"

"Swordfish, fries, Diet Coke! Comeangetit!" yelled the server.

"That's my order, Ma. I'll be right back."

When I returned, however, my ma happened to have disappeared. A certain woman named Linda Jones had taken her place. "It's about time I found you. I wondered where you had disappeared."

I sat down. "Do you ever leave men alone?" I asked her.

"Let me see..." she seemed to ponder it, tapping a solitary finger on her chin. "No."

"Come on, Linda. You're a married woman, even though you're husband is dead, fourth dimensionally speaking. I think."

"So, Martin? This is the 2300's again - not the 28,000 B.C.'s. A woman can do whatever she wants these days."

"I don't care what the date is. A married woman should stick to her husband like molasses."

"Yeah, right," retorted Linda. "A married woman should never have gotten married in the first place."

Ask The Vicar: Is Hiney Sex Ok Or Satanic?

Father Knowlen is our religion expert.
He went the way he did because
he minimally sexual with women, men and docile farm creatures

Dear Father Knowlen: 
I am a 19 year old university student and am really struggling with my boyfriend. He wants to put his, his, uhm penis, in my hiney and has been quite insistent about it, he has even said that I obviously don’t love him as much as I say I do or I would do this, but I’ve never heard of this, isn’t that for expelling not accepting? – Ashamed Nice American Lass

Dear ANAL:

I hear about this all the time, young lady and you are right it is for expelling waste and nothing else, I suggest that you tell your boy, I don’t think such an animal is a friend, that he is a disgusting, foul and obviously possessed child. However if he continues to be insistent on this, then tell him it will be necessary for him to reciprocate. I am told that men enjoy this because they are all animals, unless chaste as I am, and because it stimulates the prostate. The reciprocation is known as “Pegging” and you must buy a sex toy known as a “Strap on."

Believe me dear girl he will either leave you alone and go find another way to settle his foul desires, or you will both enjoy a night of incredible fun and relaxation, blessings.

Biologists Discover New Species Living In Mom's Basement

An example of the species Homo-Warcraftian

CHICAGO, IL - A group of American biologists have discovered seven previously unknown species of mammals in the United States and several other nations, increasing the number of native mammals known from the U.S. from 423 to 450.

The formal descriptions of the seven species all of which are members of the genus Homo, (Homo-Trollocus, Homo-Porno, Homo-Warcraftian, Homo-Virginicus, Homo-Knowallitus, Homo-Facebookia, Homo-Twitterian) will be published on July 20, 2011 in Smithsoniana, the peer-reviewed journal of The Smithsonian Museum, where the project is based. The nine co-authors included biologists from Temple University, The Smithsonian National Museum, Conservation International-North America, Colorado Museum of Naturel and Science, and Chicago University.

The Human Genome Project is a collaborator of the project, providing assistance at field sites and co-organizing conferences on wildlife and conservation."These animals are part of the rich biological heritage of the United States," said Dr. Theresa Booster, Director of the HGP. "The closed cement & wood environments where they live are crucial waste collection areas for Denver, Philadelphia and many other cities. Protecting their habitat is good for them and for people."

The Top 25 Male Pickup Lines of All Time

Do your milkbags need to be drained? made the list at #20.

Today we look at the best pickup lines to date. You might disagree, but you would then be wrong. Just because these are the Top 25 pickup lines of all time doesn't mean that you won't get slapped and/or your beer thrown in your face if you use them. -G

25) Did you put ice cubes on your nipples or are you just happy to see me?

24) Are you tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day.

23) You look like you hurt your back. Did you fall from heaven?

22) Are you the next Jell-O spokesperson? Your breasts certainly have enough jiggle to them.

21) Wanna suck my fudgesicle?

20) Do your milkbags need to be drained?

Ask Uncle Mike: I Call Mine Pepé

Dear Uncle Mike:
I'm really struggling in the bedroom these days. And when I say struggling, I mean that I'm not getting any, I can't find any, and I feel like I'm completely unattractive to women. Now I know what everybody is going to be thinking after hearing this - that I'm gay. I am definitely not a homosexual. When I see a naked man, I throw up a little bit inside my mouth and that taste stays with me all day. I am starting to get up there in age - I don't need Cialis yet, but it's getting close - and I'd really just like the chance to settle down with a good woman who is going to love me for the remaining time I have on this planet. Is there anything that I can do to help improve my chances of getting a woman in the bedroom? - Tired & Lonely In Memphis

K-Mart Finally Dies

Walmart, after winning their sexual harassment lawsuit this week, have officially declared
K-Mart to be dead. To symbolize this, Walmart executives have placed a burial plot outside
their Bentonville, AR headquarters as a token of their achievement. 

The Luckiest Man In The Universe - Chapter 3

When I finally had the courage to open my eyes, I found that somehow I had made my way to terra firma. I surveyed the area, looking for any possible dangers like the trained retired agent that I was. Water vapor rose from the ground beneath me. Fern-like trees, probably a good 300 feet in height, loomed above me. A meadow lay to the north, which seemed to be the only way out. Volcanoes could be seen erupting on the horizon. I also noticed Albert standing next to me. He came up to my waist.

"Good going, moron," he said.

"My head is going to be the size of a giant canamelon," I groaned. "What happened?"

"Well, that happened to be a time-travel apparatus you decided to leap through. It seems to be programmed to take you back to the time when Earth was the only settled planet in the system. Because, you know, Pluto isn't a planet."

"You mean we're back over thirty thousand years in time?" I shivered. "No holoflicks around, eh?"

"Great observation," remarked Albert.

Footsteps could be heard coming from the meadow area. "Quick, behind that tree." I hauled Albert with me as I went and hid. I peeked around the edge. A man, obviously a Venusian since he had no eyebrows, was standing where we once were. He started sniffing the air around him like a rodent. He scratched his beard. He bent down and picked up a bit of mud on his finger, and then tasted it.

"Yuck," muttered Albert.

"Quiet," I ordered.

The man stuck his finger in the air, and then sauntered over to the tree we were hiding behind. "Hello there," greeted the man.

"Hello," I replied, stepping out. "We seem to be lost. Could you tell us where we are?"

"Why, on Earth, you silly. The United Earth Confederation to be exact."

"Huh?" I was confused.

The man studied Albert closely. "Albert, is that you? Remember me? Illinois Jones?" Albert looked puzzled. "I wrote the Constitution of the Rights of Adults. I am most famous for my Red Rex novels, however."

Being Your Own Grandma is "Kind of Awesome!"

(© www.doughutchison.com)

LAS VEGAS, NV - She has to stay 4 feet away from slot machines. When she is asked what kind of drink she would like, it's usually what flavor of Kool-Aid she wants. When she hears a bell ring, she just assumes it's time to go to the next classroom.

He is a bit actor who never really caught on. His memoirs smell of not-so-quiet desperation. He is so unlucky in love that neither hand will allow him to masturbate, forcing him to use his left foot. He once got thrown out of a Perkins restaurant because he compared it to a Denny's.

Together, however, Doug Hutchison, 51, and Courtney Alexis Stodden, 16, are something more: they are aspiring. "Yeah, the beauty pageant thing didn't work out so hot, so now Douggie and I are going to work on making me the next Carrie Underwood," said Stodden.

The happy couple got married in Las Vegas on May 20th. "I know people are going to think that this is wrong, but I'm telling you right now that those people are wrong," said Hutchison. "Sleeping with a hot girl who could be my granddaughter is the happiest I have ever been in life!"

Stodden has no issue with the age difference. "When I'm with Douggie, it's like I'm my own Grandma and that is kind of awesome!" exclaimed Stodden. "Plus all my Daddy issues have started disappearing and did I mention that Douggie and I are going to work on making me the next Carrie Underwood?"

Hutchison knows that his new family will have his critics, but he doesn't care. "I'm finally happy boning a hot chick. That's what life is about."

Forget a Pulitzer - We'd Settle for Ad Revenue

There's been a lot of talk recently about how satire sites do not get the same kind of love traditional news sites get when it comes to awards. Sure, it would be nice to win a Pulitzer - though when your top trending articles are about false prophets, Cylons, Daleks, & one fat ass Easter Bunny, the biggest award we can hope for is the kind that doesn't involve non-monetary multiple deposits.

No, you see, we have a new slogan here now as well. It's called Forget a Pulitzer - We'd Settle for Ad Revenue. I'm not going to give you some sap story about how I've got 5 kids to feed, rent to pay, movies to buy, hookers to pay off, or massage parlors that I have to pay under the table to prevent my wife from finding out. No - that's been done.

Instead, I'm just going to come right out and say it - do us a favor and every time you visit the site, just click on an ad. We get up to $2 per click. In return, the funny will keep coming - unlike most husbands. And if we ever do win a Pulitzer, I'll engrave all of your names upon it.

Farmer Starts Up Grass Roots Religion; "Sod Is God"

John Edward overlooking his beloved field

ASTORIA, OR - John Edward has always loved grass. He's always loved fields. He's always loved their smell, their taste in the wind, and the feeling of having tiny blades of grass go in-between his toes. He's always loved falling asleep on a nicely mowed, chemical free, well-watered lawn.

And now John Edward is bringing his love of grass to the rest of America. "I believe that America, and then the rest of the world, deserves to know and understand what loving grass can do for you, as well as what you can do for grass," Edward said. "I'm telling you, this thing is going to be huge."

But Edward is starting small with his religion dedicated to grass. "If you want anything to gain traction, you've got to start at the local level. That's why we've got just one church here outside Astoria that we meet at twice per week. Then, with grass as our compass, we will move on to bigger and better things."

So what happens during your typical service? "We sing a couple songs, we talk about lawn care, we talk about field maintenance, and then we go out and experience for ourselves the tangible physical worship of being with our god. Sod is god."

Edward's religion is not without its critics, but Edward dismisses that. "People have a hard time accepting truth. Every major religion has critics. We'll get over it the same way they do - by exposing the truth in our message. To our benefit, you don't have to believe in something you can't see, because it is in sod we trust."

If you wish to join Edward and his congregation, they meet Sunday afternoons at 1:00 and Wednesday mornings at 9:00.