"My intellect has taken a step backward since discovering The Daily Drivel" - Albert Einstein
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Friday, April 30, 2010

Office Workers Try to Figure Out Who Spit in The Stairwell

Bristol, Ct-  Scandal has rocked the offices of Blanda-Gunnerson Advertising. While walking up the interior stairwell between the first and second floors, an office worker noticed a small, fresh wad of saliva left on the third stair from the top. The gruesome discovery caused quite a stir in the usually quiet offices, as co-workers tried to figure out why and how such a thing could have happened.

"I did a double take," said a visibly upset Karalyn Murray, "that can't be what I think it is, can it? But upon closer inspection it was. Someone actually spit here! Right here in the stairwell where we all have to walk! What kind of a sick monster would do such a thing?"

Speculation abounds. Most are convinced that it was not done by someone in the office, but  perhaps a delivery or cleaning person. Theories are in full swing, as the office tries to make sense of the heinous act.

"Why the heck would it be a cleaning person? That makes no sense at all. They would be the ones that would have to clean it up. Dumbest theory yet. Now, if you ask me, I think it might be that UPS guy. I could have sworn I heard him clearing his throat this morning. I think he has a cold. Too much of a coincidence if you ask me," said Ted Glumpkin.

That theory was quickly rebuffed by several other office workers, namely Barbara "Babs" Brisbane.

"Ted is way off base about the UPS guy. He's just jealous because most of the women think he's cute and flirt with him. Ted hates him. Besides, he made deliveries at ten, and the loogie was spotted before that. I think it was Ted if you ask me, he's trying to frame the poor guy."

Work came to a standstill for several hours as the discussion continued, sometimes becoming heated as the accusations began to fly.

"The spit was new, there were still bubbles in it when it was discovered, it has to be somebody in this office. It was way too fresh, it is one of you," said Judy Koppelman, as she squinted angrily at a group standing by the copy machine.

The saliva has divided the office, with former friends blaming each other, starting rumors, and wondering which one of them could be the culprit.

"I'm sick thinking about this. Physically sick. I can't believe that one of these people that I share an office with could be so disgusting. Someone that I share a water fountain with. Someone I talk about American Idol with. Someone I might have had lunch with. I'm repulsed by the whole thing. I'm ready to quit," said Murray.

As of  press time no one has come forth as the offending party, and it is highly unlikely that the spitter will  ever be found. There has been some talk of DNA testing, but both Blanda and Gunnerson have refused to pay for such tests, and have instead posted a more cost- effective 'No Spitting' sign in the stairwell.
 For now the office workers of Blanda-Gunnerson will be suspicious of each other and things may never ever be the same again.   DD (Laszlo Ferrar reporting)

Tuesday, April 20, 2010


Pieter Vanderbosch, world class pianist, had to cut short his performance at Carnegie Hall last night due to a bizarre accident. The pianist's penis was attacked by a bee's nest.  Easy for you to say.
The attack occurred near the very end of the pianist's concert, during his performance of the "Rach 3", which is the extremely difficult piece formally known as Piano Concerto No 3 in D minor by Sergei Rachmaninoff. The demanding piece is widely regarded as one of the most challenging concertos in the standard piano repertoire and one that most pianists refuse to play.
Vanderbosch was midway through when he started to shake and convulse while letting out a blood curdling scream. Audience members assumed the Rach 3 was taking its toll on the pianist, until they heard him yell, "Bees".
Somehow, a bees nest formed under the piano, and the Rach 3 stirred them up, attacking the pianist at the closest point to the nest, his crotch.
Vanderbosch is in a lot of pain, but claims he will attempt the Rach 3 again in tonight's concert, as long as the swelling in his aching member subsides.
So, in conclusion:
The bee's nest, perturbed by Pieter the pianist, pummeled his penis, preventing his piece de resistance.   DD

Saturday, April 17, 2010


The Vatican forgives the Beatles. After 40 years the Catholic church finally says it's ok to listen to the music of the Beatles. The official newspaper of the Vatican, L'Osservatore Romano, had this to say, "Their beautiful melodies, which changed forever pop music and still give us emotions, live on like precious jewels."

The Catholic church took exception to remarks John Lennon made at the height of the band's fame, claiming they were "bigger than Jesus" and "Christianity will go," Lennon told London's Evening Standard. "It will vanish and shrink ... Jesus was all right but his disciples were thick and ordinary. It's them twisting it that ruins it for me."
Rest well dear John, the church finally forgives you.

In light of recent scandals which have plagued the Catholic church, it is a head scratching move to discuss the Beatles who have been broken up for 40 years and have only 2 of the remaining Fab Four still alive.

"I didn't know they were harboring a grudge," said Paul McCartney with a wink, "I guess I'll finally be able to sleep tonight."

The Vatican newspaper goes on to say that the Beatles were initially dropped from favor by the church because of their "dissolute lifestyle and use of drugs" along with the enflammatory comments made by Lennon and their supposed satanic lyrics.

Ringo Starr was far less diplomatic is his assessment of the Vatican's new found forgiveness:
"You've got to be kidding me? An organization of kid touchers is going to forgive us? Is that what I'm hearing? Is that correct? I'll take a bloody pass on their forgiveness. I'm fairly sure they have bigger concerns than worrying about us.  I'm glad that I don't need to sell any more records at this point of my life, because the seal of approval from those perverts would surely doom our sales. John was right, he went easy on them. They don't want to hear what I have to say about them, that's for damn sure. Preaching forgiveness and tolerance, yet they condemned us immediately and took 40 years to come around. Sounds like the blokes that killed Christ, not the ones who are supposed to be spreading his bloody word. Don't get me started alright!  What's next on their agenda? Are they going to forgive Marilyn Monroe for sex out of wedlock?  Tell  those poofs to mind their own store and not worry about the rest of us. Now piss off!"

And he's the happy Beatle.
We can safely assume Mr. Starr will not be attending Sunday mass any time soon.   DD

Thursday, April 15, 2010


Welcome, welcome to my trials and trevails in the unpredictable world of food tasting.  I have traveled the globe, dined with dignitaries, and savored delicacies (and occasional atrocities) from Aruba to Zimbabwe. To put it mildy, I know food.
I am, of course, Chauncey St. Bernard, but I'm sure you already knew that.
This week I attempted something different and lowered my standards (oh the horror) to sample some 'fast food'. I know what you're thinking, "dear Lord Chauncey how could such a refined and revered beacon of class and distinction stoop so low?"
Well trust me dear readers, it shan't happen again, that I can tell you.
The reason for my treasonous act was simple and innocent. Curiosity.
KFC (yes that greasy old clucker from Kentucky) has created a media blitz with its new chicken "sandwich" called the 'Double Down'. I, like many others, was curious about a breadless sandwich that consists of two boneless chicken filets filled with two types of cheese, two pieces of bacon, and a secret sauce. Intriguing.
I rubbed elbows with the common folk, they of their Walmart purchased attire and Flowbee vacuumed haircuts. A moment of weakness, one I will not be repeating any time soon.
I stepped up to the counter with perspiring brow and heavy heart, and ordered one 'Double Down' sandwich and a diet soda.
I sat down in a filthy corner table, tucked a paper napkin in my shirt collar, blessed myself, and began a frightful journey that will haunt me to my dying days (which could be any day after that "sandwich").
The saliva in my mouth immediately dried up from the enormous amount of sodium contained in the stringy chicken filets and limp bacon. I drained my soda container dry in one panicked sip, and ran screaming up to the fountain for an emergency refill. The patrons stared at me as if I were a three legged leper.
I sat back down, composed myself, and attempted another bite. This time I was prepared with drink in hand. The greasy and repulsive sandwich went through my system instantaneously, treating my intestines like a wildfire burning through a dry forest. Quick and devastating. I felt it coming, but was defenseless against its brutish force as I puckered my sphincter and made a run for the world's most disgusting bathroom. You can imagine the rest, I will spare you the gory details, suffice it to say that those clothes were promptly incinerated upon my arrival home.
I crawled up in a ball in a corner and rocked and cried myself to sleep. Col Sanders literally gave me the bird that afternoon, and my ravaged interior, and posterior for that matter, may never be the same again. If you value your health (and your dignity) please stay away from the cholesterol infused "Double Down" sandwich.
You'll thank me.
Until next time, I am as always, Chauncey St. Bernard.
Bon Appetit !