"My intellect has taken a step backward since discovering The Daily Drivel" - Albert Einstein
" When I read it I begin to hate my fellow man. I want to hit something"- Mohandas Gandhi
"A complete abomination. We all weep at its very existence"- Abraham Lincoln
"I wouldn't begin my day without it. I've learned so much." - Lindsay Lohan

Thursday, January 29, 2009



Charles- Well, here we go again. I can't believe yet another football season is about to come to a close. Where did the time go? Oh Oh.
Paul- Ya said a mouth full there Chuck. I feel like we're still in training camp watching those magnificent boys run through tires and all that nonsense. Yet here we are on the verge of yet another Superbowl. Which one is it now? 50? 60? Does anyone really give a crap? Nobody can figure out those damn Roman numerals anyway. I was lost after XXX. Why the hell can't we just give them regular numbers?
Charles- Because they are like gladiators, and this is their ultimate battle. I still remember Superbowl III. If I close my eyes I can picture Broadway Joe running off the field, waving that big......
Paul- Whoa there big fella, there's kids out there reading this article. Let's not get X-rated here. We all know about Namath.......
Charles- Oh oh. I was about to say finger, you libidinous creature. He was waving that big index finger in victory as he ran off the field after upsetting the Colts. Paul what's your favorite Superbowl memory?
Paul- Tom Brady dripping with champagne.
Charles- That's a pretty good memory, and a darn good screen saver, but I meant on the field, you little scamp.
Paul- Oh, please, who the hell watches the game anyway. It's usually a terrible lop sided blow out. It's just filler between good commercials. Which commercial are you looking forward to?
Charles- Oh oh. Well, if you have to know, I'm sure there will be a good one with LeBron James. That nubian king could sell me anything. He could pull my pants off and sell them right back to me. And I'd pay it. Whatever the cost.
I like the one with the powder or chalk or whatever the hell that stuff is all over him, but I'll be damned if I know what the heck he's selling. It doesn't matter, I'm too busy trying to figure out what his tattoos say anyway.
Paul- Chuck, if I see one more Geico gecko or caveman or pile of cash with eyeballs on it, I'm going to lose it. I'm going to choke someone with a feather boa.
Charles- Never mind your nonsense, you drama queen. What about the game? People are eagerly awaiting our picks. What's your prediction?
Paul- New Orleans -37 Chicago- 31
Charles- Really? You have no idea who's playing do you?
Paul- Do you?
Charles- Of course. I'm a sports reporter just like you. Oh oh. Don't you dare brow beat me.
Paul- So, what's your prediction fancy pants?
Charles- New England -51 Houston-7
Paul- Atleast mine was a closer game.
Charles- Whatever, it's all about the party anyway. I have my ensemble picked out for the party at Rip Taylor's bungalow. A blue blazer with matching captain's hat, a striped ascot, and a mahogany pipe. Oh Oh. I can't wait.
Paul- We wish all of our devoted followers out there a fabulous Superbowl party and if there's time, and there's a lull in the action, by all means, watch some of the game. DD

Thursday, January 22, 2009



Frank Dreybeck, a veteran of the Korean War and journalist for over 50 years, was found dead in his apartment early yesterday morning. His death comes one day after his retirement from The Daily Drivel, where his column appeared for the final time on Tuesday. The column was laced with bitterness and made numerous disparaging remarks about several co-workers. Dreybeck alleged that he was forcibly retired because of his style of writing. Police investigating his death seem to believe foul play may have been involved.
"Everyone we've interviewed so far hated the man. Neighbors, co-workers, the dry cleaner down the block, everyone seems to have been insulted by him. If this was murder, and all indications point in that direction, then anyone who has ever met him is a potential suspect. We have our work cut out for us," said Det. Caskey.

Frank Dreybeck was a reporter in the Korean War at the age of 19, and joined the Washington Post as a correspondent after his discharge. He seemed to bounce around from city to city over the next five and a half decades working at most of the major newspapers, and never lasting more than two years in any one spot.

"I hate to speak ill of the dead, but he was a miserable bastard who butted heads with everyone," said Rupert Murdoch ," his inflammatory comments, both spoken and written, were pure vitriol. No one could stand the man."

Dreybeck's style, by his own admission, was one that 'ruffled a few feathers'. He took particular glee, for some bizarre reason, in lambasting game show host Bob Barker. Barker was routinely savaged in Dreybeck's columns, even when the story had nothing at all to do with the game show host, which was 99.9% of the time.

Here are two excerpts from some of Dreybeck's columns:

".......There are too many single women in today's workforce, single women who are taking the jobs away from men with families, honest, hardworking men who are trying to make ends meet. What's the matter ladies, tired of watching Bob Barker's ridiculous dye job all morning?"

".....Companies like Nabisco and Johnson & Johnson should be ashamed of themselves for gouging the unsuspecting public with their overpriced, inferior products. Companies that used to be the back-bone of this country are now punching us all in the solar plexis. Companies like this, that conspire to keep a ruthless charlatan like Bob Barker employed."

Dreybeck harbored a decades long grudge against the former game show host, but no one seems to know the reason for the animosity. Some speculate that Barker found out that Dreybeck's middle name was actually Dorothy, and belittled him to common friends and associates. Poking fun at him on air by turning to the camera every once in awhile and saying "Well, Dorothy, what do you think about that?"
Others say that Dreybeck's first wife Nancy had a torrid affair with Barker, and he could not manage to excite her after Barker had his way with her, which ultimately led to their bitter divorce.
The real reason may never come out and will likely be buried along with the journalist.

(Viewing and burial plans have been put on hold due to an ongoing police investigation and an utter lack of interest) DD

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Frank Dreybeck Invites Everyone To Kiss His Ass

You read that right, and I hope you do it too. I’d be more than happy to show you which part of my vertical smile you can paste your lips to. More than happy. I hope the incompetent editor of this sorry publication doesn’t change a word of it either, although you’d have to be able to read, so I’m probably safe. I’m a newspaper man. Have been for as far back as I can remember. I’m a newspaper man in an age of paperless journalism. Frankly, it makes me sick. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, like starting your day with newsprint all over your hands. One of the great joys of life.
I’m being “retired” because of too many reader complaints.
I’m being “retired” because I tell the truth (no M&M candy coating here).
I’m being “retired” because I’m a dinosaur, a fossil from a forgotten age.
So, you didn’t like my style, huh. What’s the matter, was I a little too harsh for your precious sensibilities? Too bad. It’s called honest journalism.
Was I a little too opinionated for your taste? Boo hoo. I’ve been a journalist for over fifty years for some of the finest, most well respected newspapers this country has ever produced.
I've interviewed presidents and kings. I've covered revolutions and assassinations. I've shared a newsroom with Woodward and Bernstein. I've shagged fly balls with Mickey Mantle and rode a horse with John Wayne. I've bedded Marilyn Monroe and Angie Dickinson (twice). What have you done?
The Daily Drivel is a joke, a bad joke. The editor, Josh Banter, looks and dresses like a homeless person. He wouldn’t know a good news story if it slapped him across the face, which is exactly what I’m going to do to him on my way out the front door. The lead reporter, Laszlo Ferrar, is a talent less bum who barely got out of high school. His IQ is equivalent to that of a baked potato, and if the potato has sour cream and chives then the edge goes to the potato. No legitimate news source in the country would hire a hack like this as a copy boy, never mind its lead reporter. None. Zero. Only this scandalous rag. They are more of a joke than the “paper” itself. I hope they both rot in hell, alongside that lecherous prick Bob Barker.
My time working for The Daily Drivel, or more accurately, “The Barely Dribble”, has been some of the worst of my career. I began reporting as a 19 year old in the Korean War, and have covered every major world event since. How I wound up here I’ll never know. They choose to report on fluff pieces like a bathroom attendant who wins the lottery and some drunken fool at a Cubs game. This is news? Well if it is, it’s news to me. It’s all one big joke. It has to be, that’s the only explanation. They have “contributors” like Gary Busey, Count Dracula, and a cavalcade of miscreants even more reprehensible. It’s a disgrace and an insult to serious journalists everywhere.
Everyone associated with this “paper” can get in line, along with all of you reading this, and pucker up as I bend over and drop my trousers.
Sincerely (up) yours,
Frank Dreybeck

Monday, January 5, 2009

South American Rugby Team Resorts to Cannibalism When Bus Breaks Down On The New Jersey Turnpike

A rugby team from Uruguay, traveling by bus through the United States for various tournaments, has been struck by tragedy. Team Hambre, a team of All Stars from Uruguay, was on its way to play a rugby match in Newark NJ, when smoke suddenly started to billow from the engine. The driver pulled onto the shoulder near exit 13 of the New Jersey Turnpike and assessed the damage as a blown head gasket and called for a tow truck. When the members of the team heard the news that the tow truck would take over an hour to arrive, inevitably, panic set in.
Within 15 minutes all food and drink on the bus had been consumed and the hunger of several team members drove them to drastic measures.
Roberto Canales, a co-captain of the team, decided to take matters into his own hands and began eating fellow team mate, Diego Zavaleta. Zavaleta was presumed dead by Canales and several others because his eyes were closed. As it turns out, Zavaleta was merely taking a nap, and awoke to see his right foot covered in ketchup and placed between two pieces of white bread, as Canales with a napkin tied around his neck, began to eat.
“We didn’t think we were going to make it. It was so dark and cold outside, and we were so hungry. Diego gave his life for his team, it was a tough decision, but it was the right one. We would have starved, what choice did we have? He was third string anyway, he rarely played, so he wasn’t as muscular as the rest of us. Muscle is so hard to chew through,” said Canales.
The tow truck arrived 45 minutes after it was called, and Joe Nugent, the driver of the tow truck was horrified by the scene upon his arrival.
“I walked over to talk to the driver and I did a double take when I saw what was going on next to the bus. There were several guys in rugby uniforms putting hot sauce and blue cheese on a human leg and two arms. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I started screaming, ‘Hey, what the hell is going on’, but they ignored me and kept on eating, I guess they were pretty hungry. The thing that confuses me the most about the whole situation is the fact that the rest stop was only 200 yards away. There is a Sbarro, Cinnabon, and TCBY all right there. It just doesn’t make sense,” said Nugent.
After a slight delay Team Hambre resumed its game schedule and remains undefeated thus far on its North American tour. They have dedicated the rest of their games to Diego Zavaleta, and consider him a National hero.
“It was our darkest hour as a team, but somehow we survived our ordeal. We pulled together, that’s what great teams do,” said Canales, “we will always remember Diego and his selfless act. He is a true hero. We will remember him as a talented team mate, a good friend, a brave person, and a filling meal.” DD (special contributor to this story- Dr. Dean Romano)

10 Year Old Girl From Taiwan Embodied With The Spirit Of Johnny Cash

Taipei, Taiwan- Ling Pul Pong, a 10 year old girl from Taiwan woke up one morning, got dressed in all black clothing and complained about the conditions of Folsom Prison. Ling, who never spoke a word of English before, now speaks in a gravelly southern snarl, frightening the rest of her family.
“We do not know what to do with Ling, she speaks a foreign language that we do not understand. We think it is English, but we are not sure. It is an uncomfortable time for our family,” said Ling’s mother, Shu Pei through a translator.
The family is baffled as to what has become of the once timid and respectful little girl that they have known, and has been replaced by a hard drinking, amphetamine popping embodiment of deceased music legend Johnny Cash.
Ling’s attitude and defiant behavior have upset her family, who to their own chagrin, enlisted the aid of several doctors and psychiatrists.

“I am quite amazed as to how this could have happened. I have observed her for over two weeks and if I didn’t know any better I would think that I was in the presence of Johnny Cash himself. When she enters the room each morning, she says in a deep baritone voice, ‘Hello, I’m Johnny Cash.’ She then pops a few pills, washes them down with a few long gulps of bourbon, and flips the table over because she doesn’t like the food selection. She then grabs a guitar and sings a beautiful rendition of “Cry, cry, cry”, or “Ring of fire”. It is truly fascinating,” said Dr. Yul Po Ting, a psychiatrist from Taipei.

“The spirit of this American country singer is restless, and feels that it has more work to do here on earth before it can move on. Why it chose the body of a 10 year old Taiwanese girl is a mystery. Maybe the spirit got confused and mistook Taiwan for Tennessee; Mr. Cash was not the greatest of spellers. In spiritual matters such as these, answers are not always logical,” said Bruce Kim, renowned psychic and author.
Ling’s family, which numbers thirteen, is feeling the financial pinch from her sudden and drastic change in lifestyle. The family lives and works on their own small farm outside Taipei, growing vegetables and flowers. Ling’s mother and older sisters sew their own blankets and clothing to ease the financial burden on the family, but Ling’s new wardrobe is putting a dent in the family’s already meager bank account. Black cowboy boots, jeans and shirts arrive daily from manufacturers in Texas; ironically none of the clothing is made in Taiwan.
“Our debt is growing larger by the day, our farm does not generate enough to cover the items that Ling Pul is buying. A $2,000 guitar was delivered yesterday, and five pairs of black boots arrived today from a man in a big brown truck. Ling Pul is bankrupting us,” said Chen Wu, Ling’s father.
The Pong family had never heard of companies such as UPS or Fedex before they started arriving daily at their farm. The walk in shed behind the house, which is usually used to store harvested vegetables, has been cleaned out to accommodate the enormous amount of musical and recording equipment ordered by Ling.
A club owner and small time music producer in Taiwan is very impressed with what he has heard from Ling, and thinks that with his help, they can make a small fortune together.
“Asian culture has always been fascinated with the music of the west, especially the period of the 1950’s through the 1970’s. The music of people like Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, and even Johnny Cash are still extremely popular. I think that with my help the Pong family could become very wealthy. Time is of the essence, we don’t know how much longer this spirit will remain in Ling Pul,” said Quan “Fast Eddie” Woo.
“I already have an 83 year old man who sings Glen Campbell songs, and a set of conjoined twins who perform like the Captain and Tennille, so we can really put on some show. Ling Pul of course would be the headliner. I hope the Pong family will agree because with a show like that, we can take Asia by storm.” DD

Friday, January 2, 2009

Dick Clark Decides To Resume Full Work Load Despite Slurred Speech From Stroke

Dick Clark Shown in the picture above left-age16 (1850) and above right-age 175 (2009)

"America's oldest teenager" Dick Clark is encouraged after his appearance on his annual New Year's Eve program, and wants to resume hosting all of his former programs. Clark, who suffered a devastating stroke almost three years ago, has limited his public appearances the last few years to New Year's Eve only.
"I fink I fown pea goo," said Clark,"you nebbeh know I had a shtro."
Clark, who has refused the chance to retire and stay behind the scenes, cannot resist the pull to be in front of the camera, despite the pleas of his family members and physicians. Clark has been a show man since he was 16 years old, hosting numerous ceremonies for President Zachary Taylor, and the allure of show business remains in his blood, just not the blood flowing to his brain.
Clark is trying to negotiate a deal with one of the major networks to host new versions of American Bandstand, $25,000 Pyramid and America's Funniest Videos. He has demanded to be the sole host, and have full creative control over all aspects of the shows.
Stu Plotnik, an executive at NBC, has expressed interest in the idea.
"I love Dick. I mean really who doesn't? The man is an icon. He's a true genius in this industry and we all owe him a debt of gratitude. We are interested in resurrecting some of the shows that he created, I think there is a need for these wholesome types of shows in this oversaturated reality tv market. I have only one slight problem, I can't understand one God damn word that comes out of his mouth. We will only sign off if he has Ryan Seacrest next to him to bail him out when he starts trying to talk. That is the only way."
Clark, who still looks relatively good, despite his age of 175, demands to host these shows alone, and will keep shopping the idea around until someone bites.
"I'm Diclargh, I blong in fun of the camer. Mericuh luds me." DD