Take a Bite! of
Selected
works
from The
Dingo
News in Brief...

By Matthew Hamilton and Sean Leary
World As We Know It Kept Secret Diary,
We Discover We Haven't  Known It At All

SEDONA, ARIZ. (DP) --- People often talk about a particular event changing the World
as we know it. As it turns out, they may be a little out of the loop and that the world has
been undergoing a lot more changes lately than anyone expected.

Researchers, led by the Mother Earth, have discovered a secret diary of the World that
has exploded all prior thoughts about the young planet we once called our own.

``All this time, we thought we knew so much about the World we live in,’’ said Dr. Kermit
Vanhorst, ``and as it turns out, we haven’t known it at all.’’

The disclosures revealed about the earth in the diary include the fact that the earth has
been clandestinely smoking for at least two million years, that it has been sneaking out
of orbit to make out with Mars behind the meteor belt, and that despite its protestations,
it knew full well what happened to Atlantis.

Researchers aren’t sure what steps they will be taking next, but they’re sure that a
certain planet is going to have some answering to do once it gets back from its current
orbit around the sun.

Pig and Chicken United
in Peace Pact, Oven at R.J. Boars

ROCK ISLAND, IL.  (DP) --- Pig and Chicken, which have been locked in a fierce battle
on R.J. Boars billboards throughout the past few years, have finally found common
ground, and one would hope, peace.

The combative duo have been united in succulence by Boars’ chefs, restaurant owners
announced on Friday.

Over the course of a long, arduous advertising campaign, each of the combatants has
exchanged insults such as ``Smoke the pig!’’ and ``BBQ the chicken!’’ However, Boars
officials were able to look beyond such major ideological differences in the process of
slaughtering them both, cleaning their carcasses, hickory smoking their flesh and
cooking it with delicious, mouth-watering BBQ sauce.

``I know they had their differences in the past, but they’ve finally found some common
ground, on my plate, with some slaw and beans,’’ satisfied customer Marvin Smoot
said Saturday. ``I’m quite pleased I’ve been able to take part in such a historic peace
accord.’’

Smoot noted that the two seemed to be getting along just fine moving through his
digestive tract, and that he was hoping to unite the duo with their longtime friend the
cow later that evening at Steak N Shake.

Eggs Secede From Meat
Food Group; Nutritionists Angered

NEW YORK (AP) - In a stunning withdrawal from the US Food Group Pyramid, Eggs
today pulled their membership from the “Meat” food group.     

At a press conference this morning, an angry Egg spokesperson denounced Meat,
stating, “We’re not MEAT, damn it!  We’re EGGS!   Christ!”    

The spokesperson also gave the assembled cadre of journalists a document of
demands, which is being referred to as the Yolk Manifesto.  Nutritionists were united in
denouncement of the aggressive move by Eggs.

“If this action by Eggs is allowed to stand unchallenged, what next?” asked Harvard
Political Science Professor Willis Chorr.   “If Eggs are successful, I think we’re going to
see the Food Group Pyramid rapidly dissolve into a patchwork of poorly thought-out city
states,” he concluded.    

Jenna and Barbara Bush
Thwart Evildoers In San Padre

SAN PADRE, TX.  (DP) --- Jenna and Barbara Bush, the draft-aged daughters of George
W. Bush, were praised on Thursday for their efforts to stop terrorism during Spring
Break in San Padre, Tx. The duo were given special medals of honor by the Texas Air
National Guard for reporting suspicious activity by a bartender at the bustling Titty
Twister beach pub.

``He was like, totally not serving one of our friends from the sorority house, like, even
though she had this awesome fake ID,’’ Barbara said. ``Like, every bar we’ve gone to,
the bartender has totally served her. But this, like, Middle Eastern looking guy just, like,
totally shut her down. That just seemed a LITTLE un-American to me, you know?’’

``Yeah, and like she totally looks 21 anyway --- it was SO BOGUS!’’ Jenna agreed.
``Like, what’s his damage, anyway. Like, it really matters, right?’’

The bartender, Mario Lamponi, 26, was released from custody after a background
check, a brisk tour of his apartment by authorities and a full-cavity body search. He was
not made available for comment.

In related news, the Bush twins were also given special commendations by the
American Business Bureau for their vigorous efforts in helping to promote domestic
products Budweiser and Miller Lite.


“Land for Peace” Deal Brokered Between
Isreali, Palestinian Monopoly Players

TEL AVIV, ISRAEL (AP) – An breakthrough was made today in the ongoing “Land For
Peace” negotiations as Isreali Monopoly players ceded Ventnor Avenue to the
Palestinians.    

“We have some trust issues to work on, but I feel like Ventnor Avenue is good avenue to
begin the healing process.  If this is what is being offered for trade, God willing, I think
we will be able to cede States Avenue, and perhaps St. Charles Place,” said
Palestinian negotiator Agan Al-Haijjed.

Former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright was thrilled to hear the news.  “In the past,
these kinds of talks have always broken down over railroads,” she noted.   “The fact that
Penn Railroad and Reading Railroad are off the table right now leads me to have
genuine hope in this process for the first time in many years.”

British Porn Companies Jump
On  `Harry Potter’  Bandwagon

LONDON, ENGLAND  (DP) --- British pornographers, slow to adopt the American trend
of parodying film titles in their works, have rebounded with a flourish of hardcore films
lampooning the titles of the ``Harry Potter’’ film and book series.

New titles this week include ``Hairy Putter In The Cavern of Warm Secrets,’’ ``Hairy
Putter In the Zoo of Spewed Goo’’ and ``Hairy Putter Makes The Sausage Wand
Disappear.’’
A few answers to recurring questions
about ass-less chaps

By Dan O'Shea
"Assless chaps." Together they are two of the funniest words in the English language, if
you allow that "ass-less" is indeed a word. As articles of clothing go, "assless chaps"
are right up there with "tube tops" and use of the word "underwear" in combination with
any other words.

Because I'm the Miss Manners of my social circle, I'm often asked when and how to use
the words "assless chaps" in common, everyday conversation.

First off, use of the words "assless chaps" should not be lightly considered. It's the type
if reference that has an immediate, unique impact and effect, which only would be
mitigated by frequent usage.

In short, do not whip out your assless chaps unless you really mean it. View it as the
kind of reference you want to use strategically in the following situations:

1.) To defuse an explosive situation through self-deprecating humor: "If I knew there
was going to be a rumble, I would have worn my assless chaps."

2.) To befriend a new acquaintance or would-be companion for sexual intercourse: "If I
knew you were going to be at this party, I would have worn my assless chaps."

3.) To fill an awkward silence and affect a change of subject: "I swear I had no idea she
was your sister... Anyway, if I knew it was going to be this humid today, I would have
worn my assless chaps."

Hopefully, this bit of advice will help you determine the right time and place to utter the
words "assless chaps."

Having explained proper usage, however, I have to confess that I, from time to time, find
myself wondering if use of both words in the phrase "assless chaps" is even
necessary, as humorous as these two words may sound together.

The root of my conundrum is the obvious redundancy. All chaps, by definition, are
"assless" are they not? If they are not assless, they cease to become chaps, and would
be called, more accurately, pants. (As a rule, pants are not very funny unless they aren't
being worn, or only if they are being worn by a humorous and mischievous animal,
such as a monkey.)

Since chaps, by design, allow the ass of the wearer to be viewed, perhaps we should
be calling them "ass-full chaps." Let's all give it a try, and see if it catches on....
Top 10 Worst Excuses For Being Late For Work
10.) My dog ate my carburetor.

9.) Orange juice is meant to be savored, bitch.

8.) I was having a past life experience from before the clock was invented.

7.) I just don’t like you.

6.) I wanted to see if it was finally the episode where Gilligan got off the island. Or at
least the episode where they killed and devoured that pompous fuck, Mr. Howell.

5.) I just couldn’t stop ``Sweatin’ to the Oldies,’’ and, also, masturbating to the girl in red
tights jiggling in the second row.

4.) Ever hear of alien abduction?

3.) My mother’s body wasn’t gonna just bury itself, ya know.

2.) Damn that 24-hour Ebola virus.

1.) But boss, your wife and your daughter are INSATIABLE!
Snoop Dogg, you have the right to remain silent. No, really!

By Jason Tanamor
When I was asked to pose as translator for Snoop Dogg, I was in a tidge. I had recently
lied on a job application - an application that directly asked if I was fluent in ebonics. I
marked the yes box because I thought the experience would be splendifurous.
Needless to say, I had no clue what Snoop Dogg was saying.

“That is whack. It’s off the hizzle fo shizzle dizzle,” he screamed at me, flashing signs
that made me suffer a bad case of poopydingles. I was confused, but I had to do my
job; the job of a fadnatic.

“Jason,” the Judge said to me. “Please ask Mr. Doggy Dogg if he knows what he’s here
for.”

“Snoop,” I began. “You are here because of your recent hectivity involving a ho and her
unbeweavable, crexy demeanor, that forced you and her to partake in a larkalicious
shindig.”

Snoop looked me up and down and called me a converserbox. He then looked to his
bodyguard and said that I must have had verbalexia.

The Judge then asked what Mr. Doggy Dogg’s intentions were to clear up the matter.

“Snoop, your car was seen doing clammerwhirl in front of Shanika’s house. Your stereo
was bumpin, I believe it occurred lasterday, and you admitted that it was stuporous.”

Snoop laughed as the Judge and I developed blank stares, wondering if this was
squandlifect. The Judge motioned for me to approach the bench. I obliged and the next
thing we knew, Snoop and his bodyguard mystappeared.

“Where did Mr. Doggy Dogg go?”

I shrugged and replied, “He can’t go far. He’s bonified. He tires easily.” The bailiff ran
out of the room and looked down the hall. He saw the rapper surrounded by a group of
kids.

Smiling, the bailiff returned to the courtroom. “He’s out there signing autographs for
some kids. You know those entertainers, give them attention and they get all
meocentric.”

The Judge peered at the bailiff in amazement, realizing that another person spoke
ebonics.

“Condolations, you have the job. Jason, you’ve just been demoted. Your position went
from job to joblett.” The bailiff and the Judge laughed out loud at his attempt to
ebonosize the situation. It bothered me because the Judge’s squicker was annoying.
He was in fact, an idget.

Minutes later, Snoop returned to the courtroom. The Judge thoughtomatically decided to
let the rapper go, due to my inability to do the job as translator.

Snoop thanked the Judge and said something that no one could understand. He
walked out and we never saw the rapper again.

That was five years ago. Since then, a producer had approached me asking if I would
be in her badaptation. I agreed, not because I wanted to be in a movie, rather she was a
beautiful woman. I really just wanted to spend time with her. She was basing this off of
Snoop’s tell all book, ‘Dem hoes got nuttin on me.’

We spent the next several weeks together, filming, and I became twitterpated. And even
though she had flaws, like yibbling for example  (but that’s compensated because she’
s good at defullerizing), we ended up tying the knot, which incidentally had knit-knots in
it.

We had lots in common, with one of the things being divorce. We both had been
married before. We were knewlyweds. I spent a crap load on the ceremony. Now, since
my future in translation is sketchy, I’m searching for new ways to extrumpolate. So far, it’
s going well. I’ve been able to elimbinate and upgrade into the 21st century.

Thanks Snoop Dogg.
A Free Bird For Fans From Hell

By Sean Leary
Well, here we are in the midst of the summer festival season, home to every group you
remember listening to on the radio constantly in junior high, and rarely hearing on the
radio once you got to high school.

And even though most of the groups are missing several of their original members and
most of their original hair, you can rest assured they’re still playing pretty much all three
of the songs you remember from junior high.

I’m not necessarily complaining. There’s something about the summer that makes the
nostalgia sweeter. Maybe it’s the latent memories of  school summer vacations, a long-
lost lack of responsibility and the charm of seeing scantily clad members of the
opposite sex who months before had been buried in parkas.

Or maybe it’s just the heat and all the beer. When the weather is nice, you’ve got a
decent buzz going and you’re having a good time, I suppose any background music is
tolerable.
Or most background behavior.

Now, before I pull out the long knives, I’ll admit that I, and my friends, have, once or
twice, gotten slightly roasted and a smidgen out of hand at concerts. Hey, sometimes
we were just having fun. Sometimes I think we went over the line. I think everyone has at
one time or another.

This is nothing new. Ever since the Romans began serving wine at the Coliseum,
things just haven’t been the same.

Even so, some people really bring their A-game when it comes to being obnoxious.
I’ve been to a ton of concerts and during the vast majority of them, the crowd has been
relatively —- it’s a concert, so people are expected to be a little nuts —- well behaved.
And even when most assholes get out of hand, they’re predictable in their idiocy.
Then there are the award-winners, those freaks so strange and rude that years later,
they still stand out in my mind.

There was the Elton John concert where a guy who looked like Lenny from ``Laverne
and Shirley’’ kept bellowing, ``Saturday Night!!! Saturday Night’s Alright!!! Ellll-tooon!’’  all
evening.

Finally it got to the point of parody, and my girlfriend and I started yelling, ``Saturday
Night!!!’’  too. The guy behind us seemed dumbfounded but soon took it as a sign he
had discovered kindred spirits. ``Yeah, all right! Saturday Night!!’’ he screamed at us
with approval and a clueless sense of pride.

In a similar vein, why do people yell ``rock and roll!!’’ at shows? Do we really need to be
reminded that this is the music we paid to see? Why is it that you never hear anyone
yelling ``Opera!! Opera!!’’ in a crowded theater?

The worst-mannered-fans award goes to a Genesis show I checked out at the World
Music Theatre in Tinley Park. I don’t think I’ve been in the presence of so many
meatheads in my life. Drunk or sober, people were rude as hell — and not even in a fun
way. There is ``Animal House’’ jerky and there is unkempt, wolf-child wino jerky (which
is served in your better 7-11 stores next to Slim Jims), and the jackasses at this gig
definitely leaned toward the latter.

And at a Phil Collins show, no less! Yeah, nothing quite says ``punk rock attitude’’ like
those rousing rebel anthems, ``White Nights (Separate Lives),’’ ``One More Night’’ and
``Toy Selling Theme From `The Lion King.’’’

I still remember a group of  drones in rugby shirts, pickled on large-sized wine coolers,
high fiving each other and grabbing girls’ asses while singing along to ``Sussudio.’’
Oh wait, that was last Christmas at my grandparents’ house.

The most-bizarre-fans award goes to a group of gypsies who stood behind me at a
Rolling Stones gig. The trio, clad in what seemed like the vestiges of Stevie Nicks’ last
yard sale, burned incense and bad skunk weed while wailing like Yoko Ono stuck with
pins. To top it off, they swirled beads around their heads and danced about as if they
were trying to contact the dead. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s late Ronnie Van Zant didn’t make an
appearance, but the lasses did conjure up plenty of free birds, if you get my drift.
Then, of course, there are the shows plagued by the large-hatted people. These folks
just happen to be massive and in front of you. Since I’ve never seen many people in
Stetsons at jazz performances (Viking helmets are much more the norm there), I’ll
assume that this is singular to country shows. Still, every once in a while I have the urge
to check my ticket to make sure it doesn’t say in small print after the headliner’s name
``. . . and special guest appearance by Yosemite Sam.’’ People, people, people —- it’s
a fine fashion statement when you’re in the lobby. But once you sit your ass down, plop
the chapeau so the rest of us can see the damn show.

Just make sure you move your lid out of the way when people are slogging beer
through the aisles, because if they’re unwise, they’re going to spill.

This is a problem easily remedied as well. Drink a few inches off the top of your brew,
or brews, before navigating through the knee maze in the dark. It’s a difficult trek, one
that is best done with aged Sherpas, who seem to be in short supply at arenas.
However, take it from me: People’s shoes do not get thirsty; they do not need liquid
refreshment. And besides, didn’t your parents ever warn you about wasting good beer?
Don’t you know there are sober children in Ethiopia?

Concerts, summer or otherwise, aren’t the only place where freaks get their jerk on.
There are also plenty of  hellacious bozos in movie theaters.

I really love seeing those responsible parents who bring their small children to movies
like ``Freddy vs. Jason.’’ Fuck the v-chip, these bastards need to be sterilized. These
assholes are the reason I’ve got a bunch of uptight Republicans trying to tell me what I
can and cannot watch and listen to. Because you know damn well those mewling brats
are going to repeat every swear word and talk about every bare titty and splintered skull
they see up on that screen once they hit school Monday. Then, when one of their rapt
audience members, little Tommy, heads home that night with his new vocabulary, the
PTA board members who act as his parents are going to hit the roof and start the
protest ball rolling.

I think if anyone in the government is going to censor anyone involved with
entertainment, they shouldn’t concentrate on shock jocks, rappers or blood-happy
filmmakers.

They should start with stifling the trogs who try to talk to the people on movie screens.
A truism of all movies you see: The last people in the theater are the ones most likely to
shout at the screen during a film.

By now, certainly, we all know that the people on screen will not respond. This isn’t
``The Purple Rose of Cairo,’’ folks. We’re talking about ``Soul Plane.’’ Snoop Dogg
appreciates your good wishes, but no matter how many times you tell him to tap the
ass of that hot, Latin stewardess, he’s still going to get too high on the magic
mushrooms to bother. He’s Snoop Dogg. That’s his nature. Haven’t you heard the
parable about the frog and the scorpion?

Most people screaming at the screen are stupid, but fairly harmless. However, from
time to time you end up crossing those you’re not quite sure about.

At one point in my movie-going career, a guy in military fatigues seemed to be having
flashbacks in the middle of ``Jurassic Park.’’ He started stalking through the theater
and screaming ethnic slurs at the screen. Maybe I missed something, but I don’t
remember the part where the dinosaurs were created by ``Charlie.’’

Still, that couldn’t touch my most frightening moment in a theater.  That was when I went
to see the film ``Colors.’’  You remember ``Colors,’’ right? Realistic film about L.A.
gangs and the police that battle them?

It was in my hometown of Joliet, and my early teen friends and I were pretty much the
only people in the theater who weren’t wearing bandannas. You knew things were
going to be interesting when the ticket taker gave us was a waiver of liability.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long for the jungle to erupt in violence. One distraught gang
banger took such umbrage at Sean Penn’s disrespectful attitude toward his celluloid
brethren that he began to discharge his weapon at the screen. Needless to say, I
ended up seeing the final moments of ``Colors’’ on video.

While I can’t say I’ve emptied a glock to drain a theater,  I’m not living in a glass house
either. As I alluded to earlier, I’ve had my moments, especially in high school and
college. Somewhere, there may be someone else writing an essay about my friends
and I sliding down the muddy hill at Alpine Valley during a Smashing Pumpkins show.
Or the time at a Depeche Mode concert when my friend Chris, bombed out of his mind
and faking a British accent, thought it was hilarious to keep yelling, ``Personal Jesus, I
love you!’’ Or, once during the scene in  “Cocktail,” where Tom Cruise was having sex
with Elizabeth Shue in the waterfall, when I was with a group of people who yelled, “If
the Shue fits, hump it!”

But I’d like to think I’ve matured. I’ve reached a level where I’m more sensitive and
considerate of my fellow concertgoers.

And it all started with a resolution to say, ``Pardon me,’’ before yelling ``Freebird!’’ at the
stage.