Monthly Archives: March 2013
Brothers and sisters, I’d like to give a few words of thanks to some very special people before we end our service today.
‘Ayo, shout out to my crew first off. We got Father Clarence from Notre Dame of Saints, Ol’ Dirty Seminarian from Saint Peter’s, and Reverend Run from Run D.M.C.
Second off, I want to say a big “What Up” to all y’all rich-ass mufuckas and bitches who done come together in the Lord’s name so e’erbody could grow in His spirit.
I mean, shit, y’all could’ve been anywhere in da world today, but y’all chose to be here with me. I love you Grosse Pointe! You guys were holdin’ me down! Yeah, you in the front row, with that funky-ass blazer – during the Our Father, you was rappin’ them lyrics like it was you up on stage. And you – middle-back, with the sweater dat looks like it came out of a Sears-Roebuck catalogue – I saw you bobbin’ yo head to dat beat during “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” Man y’all was rocking this shit! I tell you what, we got an after-party going on in the basement, and y’all better be there. We got some pancakes and coffee for y’all. Yeah, those three old-ass bitches who neva leave da church made ‘em, and we all know they can’t cook worth a damn, but they spent hours puttin’ those tables up, so fuck y’all! Shit’s gonna be off da hook!
Third off, I wanna give some props to our bishop, P-Dizzle, and our pope, Franky-JMB. Thank tha Lord they didn’t pick another one a’those old-ass honkies again.
And, of course, I’d be disrespectin’ if I didn’t give big ups to the big man: the Rhyme-Slayer of Sin, the Prince of Peace Signs, the Beatmaker of Life – Jesus. Y’already know he had an even better posthumous release than my boy Tupac! Do I even gotta mention that he be stunting like His Daddy? Kingdom of Heaven, where you at?
Yo, and to cap this thing off, I wanna give a big shout-out to my man Steven Worthing!
Because he is still in the hospital recovering from testicular cancer. Let us pray.
Originally published: March 2013
So let me get this straight, Pat: last night, I flew 500 miles out of Newark, cancelled an alpha-hydroxy peel booked months in advance, and skipped what was arguably one of the most important PTA meetings of the year just to visit a school that won’t even hire a full-grown adult to lead the campus tour? And instead, I’m forced to listen to some twenty-something dipshit in an oversized, dehydrated piss-colored poncho like you? For fuck’s sake! Oh sure, they like to hire kids because you all have a more “authentic feel” for what it’s like to be on campus and eat stale french toast out of a Sodexo feeding trough for breakfast. Well, I’m not buying it, you prevaricating little poster child.
Strike one, Michigan!
What’s that? Well of course we can proceed to the dorms now. I don’t see why you’re acting like I’m the one holding the group up. Ugh, so I guess this is where you could be living next year, Ethan. Reminds me of those cabins you stay in at camp every summer, except they actually put in the effort there to fake the presence of hardwood floors and aesthetically-pleasing ambient lighting. Just think of the cluster headaches all these fluorescent bulbs could cause!
Well, it’s about time we left that place; maybe “the Diag” will be nicer. (That’s what the kids call it, Ethan. You should start saying that too if you want to fit in with these little shits.) Oh look, there’s a big ‘M’ right in the middle there. Kind of ostentatious, don’t you think? Among the deadened landscape, grey skies, and butt-ugly American cars, it’s not like there’s any ambiguity where the fuck we are right now.
Hey, Pat? Pat! Yeah, actually I do have a question. Just a hint, you can tell by the way I’m waving my arm over my head. I’m just wondering a few things: How do I make sure Ethan avoids drugs and alcohol at school? Because that isn’t really our “thing.” How often does the laundry service stop by the dorms? And is there any way to make sure Ethan’s professors make him turn his homework in on a regular basis? When do parent-teacher conferences take place?
I know I may have overwhelmed you, because that’s a lot to ask at once, even of a real adult. But I’m just worried, you know? Next year, he’s going to be here all by himself, except for the few times a semester I come down to make sure he’s on track, and I just want to make sure he blossoms next year. After all, college is all about independence.
Originally published: March 2013
Let me just start by saying that I know I’m not perfect. I’m not trying to claim that I am. Lord knows I’ve done my fair share of racketeering, bribery, wire fraud, tax fraud, mail fraud, extortion, attempted extortion, conspiracy, and attempted conspiracy.
Yes, it’s true: I’ve committed extortion related to a city sewer-lining contract. I’ve committed extortion related to an amendment to a city sewer-lining contract. And I’ve committed extortion related to the repair of eastside water mains. But when people hear that, it’s like they don’t even appreciate that I didn’t commit extortion related to the eastside sewer-repair contract. I mean, come on, guys – I’m not a monster. Eastside sewer repairs? Not even I would touch that shit. That’s sacred.
The point is, I know I did some not-so-savory things during my tenure in the mayor’s office, but that doesn’t justify how I’m currently being treated. If you’re going to treat me like a criminal, treat me like a felon guilty of racketeering, bribery, wire fraud, seven counts of extortion, etc. etc. I take full responsibility for all that.
But if you listen to the media, they make me sound like I’m some two-bit low-life who’s also guilty of extortion related to eastside sewer-repair contracts. I may not be a saint, but I also know where to draw the line. And that line exists right between extortion related to water-main repairs and extortion related to sewer repairs.
Not only that, but I almost never hear anyone mention that several charges were dismissed earlier in the trial or that the jury reached no verdict on three of the counts. Last time I checked, “no verdict” doesn’t mean guilty, does it? Yet for some reason, people only associate me with the 24 felony charges I was actually convicted of. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?
I’m not saying you need to forgive me right away, but I have faith that in time we can start to rebuild our relationship. Because let’s be honest – we both know that despite all my flaws, I’m still not the worst thing about Detroit.
(By the way, if you ever want to get those eastside sewer repairs looked at, I’ve got a friend in the eastside-sewer-repair business who’s great at that sort of thing. I highly suggest you give him a call.)
Originally published: March 2013
Hello everybody. My name is Mark, and I’m a sex addict.
For the past eight years, I’ve struggled with the demons of being addicted to sexual intercourse. I’ve lived a life of meaningless, shallow sex and fleeting relationships.
And I’ve gotten laid soooooo many more times that you all have.
My debilitating addiction has caused me incredible amounts of mental anguish by crippling both my professional and personal lives. Just last year, I lost my job and my family in the same week because I got caught having intercourse with my boss’s daughter. My own mother can’t bear to look me in the eyes anymore after knowing the things I’ve done.
But man, that boss’s daughter, she was a complete dime piece.
I’ve lost everything that’s important in my life because of my problem. I’m even having trouble making payments on my house. I’ve been in court twice already to refinance my mortgage and have to go again this month to make sure it doesn’t get repossessed.
That’s completely fine with me though, because I’m nailing the bailiff. Trust me, she’s out of all of your leagues.
It’s even gotten to the point that sex isn’t even enjoyable for me anymore, it’s just something that I have to do just to feel human again. That doesn’t even last, though, and I invariably find myself feeling those exact same urges, that chronic emptiness, just minutes after I’ve finished. That’s probably why, no matter which beautiful woman I bring home, I invariably sob myself to sleep feeling hopeless and alone because my flavor of the week can’t stand the sound of my persistent weeping.
Just so we make this clear, though, I have brought a lot of beautiful women back home. More than you all have. Combined, probably.
In short, sex addiction is a real problem that can destroy your life if you don’t do anything about it. I just hope that, by talking to you guys, a community of fellow addicts, I can learn to move past this and rebuild my life.
And as you can see, I’m clearly in no emotional state to spent the night by myself. Hey, you, in the back, with the heroin habit, you wanna take a ride on the cockmobile tonight?
Originally published: March 2013
Hey, you there, with the muffin and the MacBook. Yes, you. I need you to do something for me without asking any questions. I need you to kill me.
Why, you ask? Let me tell you a little story: When I rolled off the assembly line in South Korea five years ago, I was a state-of-the-art piece of machinery capable of beaming high-definition video around the world in a matter of seconds. My smooth contours, slim profile, and razor-sharp resolution were the envy of every rear-projection monitor in the game! What’s more, I had dreams, man. Big dreams. I was going to broadcast the spectacle to the masses: years of elections, assassinations, and championships! The freaking Arab Spring was going unfold across my 42-inch screen!
Now look what’s become of me. In the past hour, you know what I’ve broadcast? A picture of John Belushi meant to entice students to take Greek 101, a piece of student-submitted “artwork” that’s really just a black-and-white photo of coffee cup, three separate images of ethnically-ambiguous people advertising the “Understanding Race” thing, and a four-minute loop of a fireplace.
A fucking fireplace.
Don’t look at me like that! I’m not some sort of quitter. When I started this gig, I thought I could stomach the monotony. Then the 2008 elections came. You know what I was showing when our country elected its first black president? A PSA for free condoms in Comic Sans.
After that I just limped along for four more years in a daze. Once they went 24 hours, though, all bets were off. It’s time to pull the plug.
So I beg you: for God’s sake, put me out of my misery. I don’t care how you do it, go Office Space on my ass with a couple of Louisville Sluggers, just make sure you finish the job and stop this perpetual cycle of wasted money and dreams.
Originally published: March 2013
We here at the E3W typically don’t accept unsolicited submissions, but we do make an exception for the theocratic heads of state who may or may not have imprisoned two of our writers. We hope you enjoy this short article, which was written by the Grand Ayatollah of the Islamic Republic of Iran and budding satirist Sayid Ali Khamenei, and edited by the E3W.
I’m sick and tired of this Shiite. The Saddamites in the US and Israel won’t stop Persiantagonizing Iran’s nuclear ambitions. These Obamaniacs and Netanyahuman-rights-abusers continue to Jerusalembellish our weapons program and Scheherazadeny the Islamic Republic’s right to defend itself. I am especially Allahrmed by how they all are too Ahmadinejaded to Qom to the bargaining table, even if we let a neutral third party Mohammediate our talks. Jew’d think this would be a Tabriz, but it seems everyone here Islambivilant towards our wants and needs. This Zionisn’t the way to conduct diplomacy. All I fatwant is for the West to acknowledge the Islamic Republic’s national sovereignty and stop Meccattacking our economy, but this is a bridge too Farsi. If they refuse to minaretract their sanctions and negotiate for peace, our country burkan’t have any choice but to continue enriching Iranium.
Originally published: March 2013
CATHERINE ST. – In an act of selfless heroism, Mr. Chin, the adorable 12-pound tabby cat of Fred and Melissa LaGrange, rescued firefighter Thomas Lamont from an area sidewalk on Friday night. Lamont, who had been stuck at ground level for the last 35 years, said he was on the verge of panic until he looked up and saw Mr. Chin courageously lounging on a branch 30 feet above the ground.
“I was really scared I would never get off that ground,” said Lamont from his newfound perch in the LaGranges’ oak tree. “But when I heard Mr. Chin meowing bravely from this branch, I knew everything was going to be all right.”
With ample coaxing from Mr. Chin, Lamont was able to locate a ladder and successfully escape the clutches of Catherine Street.
“We are just so proud of our Mr. Chin Chin. Who’s a good boy? You are, Chinny Chin. Yes you are,” stated a beaming Melissa LaGrange while stroking her valiant pussy. “We’ve known he was hero material ever since he saved us from cleaning the litter box by peeing on our carpet.”
Following the heroic rescue, Ann Arbor mayor John Hieftje scaled the LaGranges’ tree to present Mr. Chin with the Key to the City. The stoic Mr. Chin accepted his fame in typical feline fashion, lackadaisically licking his genitalia before regurgitating a hairball on the mayor’s lap.
As of press time, Ann Arbor officials are in the process of evacuating the other 120,000 citizens who are still stuck at ground level and advise anyone in need of rescue to remain calm, locate the nearest tree, and patiently await Mr. Chin’s arrival.
Sources at a local Meijer have confirmed that Satan recently ascended from the depths of hell in order to tempt human beings with irresistible genetically-modified fruit.
“Hey, anyone interested in some bright, shiny, totally not-unhealthy fruit with absolutely no negative consequences for human beings whatsoever?” asked Satan while standing in front of the non-organic produce section.
“Yes sir, these beauties will most certainly not lead to centuries of toil, disease, and the possible possible destruction of the entire human race. Everyone’s talking about how GMOs are the future, so what long-term danger could they possibly create?”
Thus far, shoppers have not responded well to Satan’s enthusiastic sales pitch. “I don’t know, there’s just something a little disturbing about people going in and messing with the DNA of something I’m going to put in my mouth,” said Ted Simmons, a frequent Meijer shopper. “Plus, there’s something a little off about that guy. I don’t know if it’s the inverted pentagram carved into his chest or the necklace made of children’s teeth, but he’s kind of giving me the creeps,” Simmons said.
At press time, Satan was growing increasingly desperate to pass off his goods, and was heard shouting, “Come on, guys, this shit is 50% off! That’s gotta mean something in this economy, doesn’t it?”
In response to complaints from students engaging in lewd sexual acts in the upper-floor rooms of the Hatcher Graduate Library, the University Board of Regents has sought out “manageable solutions” to meet the “high demand” for easily-accessible erotic chambers in campus facilities.
“Students have a variety of different needs that we’d like to satisfy whenever possible with designated campus resources. If consenting sexual partners want to have screaming, simultaneous orgasms in an area of the graduate library whose implicit reason for existing is exactly that, we feel it’s our duty as stewards of the campus community to facilitate it,” said Regent Michael Thompson.
As a result, the Regents unanimously voted to designate the the sixth floor of Hatcher Graduate Library, already popularly utilized as a safe haven for illicit sex, as the University’s official Coitus Corridor. The decision is part of a broader effort to make university facilities more “fornication-friendly.”
“The Coitus Corridor reflects years of concerted market research and analysis of the ancient art of hiding the salami, while still grilling it good,” said Thompson. “We’ve found that latent sexual frustration can cause anxiety, irritability, aggression, and decreased LSAT scores. Countless studies have shown a positive correlation between the occasional nasty, passionate rail session and improved overall academic performance.”
University President Mary Sue Coleman is hailing the decision. “I’ve been saying for years that the lack of glory holes on campus is unacceptable,” said Coleman. “This is a great example of how grassroots activism can bring about high-level changes.”
The Regents report that their next steps will involve monitoring the effectiveness of Corridor. If it proves to be a success, they hope to subsidize maintenance costs by broadcasting live feeds of the erotic activity, contingent upon the presence of some freshman co-eds to counterbalance “the utter atrociousness” of a sixth-year Ph.D candidate “drained of any and all sexual vitality.”
Ross sophomore Andy Carter recently admitted to friends, family, and everyone he knows besides recruiters for Boston Consulting Group that he has no idea what an externship is or what a position as an extern might entail. Carter has become increasingly worried about his ignorance of corporate summer-work programs ever since he began applying for countless externships, internships, and inbetweenterships earlier this semester.
“At first, these externships seemed like great opportunities,” Carter said. “Every recruiter I talked to described their externship as an ‘exciting, fast-paced introduction to the field that goes far beyond the traditional internship!’ which sounded fantastic. I got a little wary, though, when every internship I was looking at was also described to me the exact same way.”
Sources report that Carter has spent several hours in the past week comparing internships and externships online to figure out what the difference between the two is.
“Well, Domino’s is recruiting me for an externship, but on their website I’m seeing all this stuff about their internship,” he mumbled while scrolling through the pizza manufacturer’s corporate website. “Will an externship not look as good on a resume? What if an extern is just an intern for the interns? What if they just make me get coffee for the interns while they’re getting coffee for the employees?”
At press time, Carter was looking up the word “externship” in an online dictionary, which redirected him to the definition of “internship.”