Vrooooooooommmmmm!

BANGUS BOOK OF THE DAY

Catch-22 is a satirical, historical novel by the American author Joseph Heller, first published in 1961. The novel, set during the later stages of World War II from 1943 onwards, is frequently cited as one of the great literary works of the twentieth century.[2] It has a distinctive non-chronological style where events are described from different characters' points of view and out of sequence so that the time line develops along with the plot. The novel follows Yossarian, a U.S. Army Air Forces B-25 bombardier, and a number of other characters. Most events occur while the airmen of the fictional 256th squadron are based on the island of Pianosa, in the Mediterranean Sea west of Italy **

** Walter Wikipedia

THE SAD DAY DAVID SUZUKI RUINED THE FAMILY REUNION FOR EVERYONE

BANGUS ONLINE — Ask some of those in attendance at the 20th annual McAllister family reunion in Westmeath Township what they remember most, and you can bet the family farm that the answer will have something to do with über-ecologist David Suzuki. On the second day of the planned three day reunion, the sun shone down as the many grandchildren carelessly played Frisbee, volleyball and tag while waiting to have a go on the old tire swing that has become a fixture at the turn-of-the-century homestead. The ladies were busy shucking corn for the pig roast that would feed close to 75 people while the men sought out shade under the massive elms that dotted the property. The afternoon’s activities were to include a quick trip to the creek for a dip, a round on the small golf course cut into the hay field, some rides on the old Clydesdale and a baseball game.

According to one family member who wishes to remain anonymous for fear of recriminations,the afternoon was going “extremely well until Mr. Suzuki came and started asking who owned the Hummer parked in the drive.” No one knows where Mr. Suzuki exactly came from. One suggested that he just appeared out of thin air as if by some ecomagik. When no one owned up to the Hummer, Suzuki became agitated, starting up a chainsaw that had been sitting atop a few cords of hardwood. He proceeded to saw the Hummer in two.

“He made a real spectacle of himself. He acted like a danged fool. I think he thought we were going to drive Henry’s Hummer to the rainforest and burn up everything or something. He acted like a danged fool. Maybe he’s just really stressed out. Who can blame him. Maybe it’s the heat. It’s been brutal this year. Hottest summer on record.”

THE WORLD OUT THERE

FROM THE HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE DESK OF MISTER CHRIS REES - BANGUS FOREIGN AFFAIRS CORRESPONDENT AND THREE-TIME NUDE SPELLING BEE CHAMPION OF THE ALMAGUIN NETHER REGIONS ON THE THAMES

Where: Australia:
What: WHITNEY HOUSTON EATING FOR TWO


Whitney Houston is eating for two! Yesterday Whitney had two plates of poutine, chicken fingers, a greek salad, steak and onions, spaghetti and a large diet coke during her concert tour of Australia and New Zealand. Whitney is not pregnant but has a daughter in New Jersey, USA. It is not known why she ate so much but Bangus researchers suggest she has the munchies.

Where: North America
What: GIANT OIL SPILL IN WASHINGTON

A giant oil spill has been spotted in Washington D.C. It stretches from Pennsylvania Ave. to the borders of Maryland on the west, Georgetown on the south. Bangus could not determine the cause of the spill but researchers believe it was caused by journalism. The spill will return with it’s family in November 2012 to Indonesia, where it was born.

Where: Europe
What: ROTTWEILER PUTS OUT FIRES

A French motorist has trained his dog to put out fires. Jacque Menard parked his brand new BMW in one of the most crime-ridden banlieus of Paris with his Rottweiler “Fang” in the back seat. At that moment a tough looking youth came and demanded 10 euros to protect it from vandalism for an hour. “That’s alright, I’ve got a Rottweiler in the back” said Menard. “Oh so he puts out fires does he?” replied the youth. …. A few hours later Pouffie did just that, saving the vehicle from total destruction by a feral gang of hooligans.

Where: Asia
What: CONFUSION OVER CLOCK

Two psychiatric patients in China were confused over the placement of a clock on the wall of their asylum. The clock seemed to be accurate and functioning properly. “Is that clock on the wall right?” asked psychiatric patient Feng Chiu Lee? “Yes it is” replied the chief psychiatrist Deng Wu. “Then what’s it doing in here?” replied Feng. Bangus reporters are still working to follow up if the clock was removed.

Where: South America
What: CUBAN DOCTORS DISCOVER CURE FOR %$#@^&*&*%$$ CONTENT BLOCKED CONTENT BLOCKED CONTACT BLOCKED CONTENT BLOCKED CONTENT BLOCKED CONTENT BLOCKED

I now pronounce you man, wife and TV tramp.

“Accept this justice as a gift on my daughter’s wedding…”  Don Corleone

I went to a wedding. Two very nice young people were married after repeating some encouraging words from the priest. Then like water into wine ‘poof’ – the two nice young people became ‘one’ in the eyes of God. From the primo seats scored from a scalper, I watched closely for that defining moment when the couple was to become ‘one.’ I love cool tricks that defy all natural laws. Of course I was left to take the priest’s word that the two had in fact become ‘one’ because I didn’t really notice any big difference between the two after all was said and done. They signed some papers with a quill pen just to seal the deal, and off they went to honour their vows forever and ever, amen. Driving from the church to the reception hall, it seemed that in front of every church, family and well-wishers filed out of their own respective weddings.

I am married. I wasn’t always married. When I was born in 1968 I was single which lasted till 1992. I was graduating Nipissing with a relatively impractical degree in Sociology. Financially I was bust but managed to pay for my wife’s ring with my father’s gambling profits – he played serious workplace poker before poker was cool. I proposed to my wife in the parking lot of a Lucky 13. I have little actual recollection of my own wedding as I did nothing in the way of having to make any adult decisions. I do remember distinctly wanting Anton LaVay to play the organ, but no dice. This was the only thing I really wanted and it was summarily shot down by my wife. I’m thinking that for many the actual wedding has nothing to do with the groom. A good groom worth his weight in salt will just nod and agree with everything until the last  person leaves the banquet hall after the final Macarena go-round fades. This day is for the bride. My wife didn’t seem to really relax and enjoy our wedding at all. She was pretty wound up with details.

I had two best men knowing that one best man would probably blow it at the last minute, so this way I would have a backup. Well, my first best man indeed blew it at the last moment after having some type of wicked fight  with his wife about an hour before the ceremony, so it was up to my second-in-command who was quite drunk. I wrote an epic speech - a grand oration in the vein of Castro – for my best man to read but it relied heavily on timing and perfect alliteration. He messed it up – butchered it to be honest, but made up for it by consuming copious amounts of booze and passing out in the women's bathroom.

I did manage to hold to my decision for the first few songs that were to be played by the DJ. This was something I felt strong enough to fight for. Dylan – Every Grain of Sand, Frank Zappa – The Closer You Are and Van Morrison’s Moondance. Then the night flew by and the next thing I know, my beautiful bride and I are baking in temperatures around the 105 degree mark on the west rim of the Grand Canyon eating coyote. Back in 1992 there were no reality shows to speak of. Today, I would have taken a more active role in pimping out our nuptials. Actually, had I been given the chance to do it all again, I could be the king of all media, instead of Stern. 

So, without further ado I am proud to present to you my Reality Life in 32 Episodes.

My mother will start off this mess by being featured first in the TLC Pregnant at 16 progressing to Spike TV’s Teen Mom. After my celebrated birth she will sell me out to Toddlers & Tiaras. Then I’m off to live out my young adult years on The Hills where I will bloom into a handsome young man looking for that special woman to share my life with and so forth. I will score the role of The Bachelor where I will meet some hot chick who doesn’t know the names of any Canadian provinces. I will propose then she will be forced to Say Yes to the Dress while I’m told What Not to Wear. The wedding will be catered in Hell’s Kitchen with some towering nine-tiered cake sculpted by the Cake Boss with all gifts coming from Pawn Stars. My new wife and I will buy a made-for-TV shitty house so we can star in that How to Flip Your House show. After we flip the house for some serious cash it will be time to cash in on Wife Swap. The kids will then come fast and furious. They will all be terrible, terrible monsters. They will steal people blind and throw spoons at each other at the kitchen table. But that’s super cool as Super Nanny will deal with them, while Dog-Whisperer Caesar Milan deals with our dysfunctional dogs while he waits on news from his divorce lawyer live from Divorce Court. As much money as I will be making from the swollen teat that is television, I will be spending more than what is coming in. The teat will begin to dry out – cracking and withering which works out to my advantage. Next stop on the remote: Till Debt Do Us Part. My wife will grow bored with scripts and barking directors as she will be actively causing psycho-drama on The Real Housewives of Bangus County. When that wraps she will star in The Week the Women Left. While she is gone I will just let myself go. I will become TLC’s 50 Tonne Man who will go on to win on Survivor by eating all my fellow contestants before going on to win on The Biggest Loser only to become hooked on amphetamines. This is where things will truly kick in to high gear. Within a single broadcast season I will get busted and skip bail only to be hunted by Dog The Bounty Hunter and Mantracker and get some serious air time on America’s Most Wanted, before being corralled down at the Mall of America by Mall Cops. But I will escape by losing them in the food court. But peeling out of the parking lot I will get lit up on COPS, eluding them to appear in World’s Wildest Police Chases before finally stopping for cheeky Police Women of Maricopa County. While out on bail I will overdose in San Diego in a very special episode of Beach Patrol before being featured on A&E’s Intervention after which I will reluctantly check into Celebrity Rehab. I will become more  obsessive than ever in order to land a sweet spot on Hoarders living in a ramshackle house where Billy The Exterminator will find me crushed under a pile of plastic commemorative Walt Disney cups featuring Toy Story, 101 Dalmatians, Tarzan, Aladdin, Little Mermaid, Lady and the Tramp, The Aristocats. No Shrek. ROLL CREDITS. FADE TO BLACK.

Who the hell is Uncle Wallace

“Good lord. Off the top of my head? Heh heh! I was just a kid and he lived next door on this farm right. He and his buddy got me drunk on bootleg Kataba. It was cheap red wine. The cheapest. He used to buy it in ten gallon drums which would usually be good for a few days. Uncle Wallace, that’s what everyone called him, he wasn’t my real uncle. I still don’t even know the fool’s last name. Anyway, him and his crony buddy passed out in the cow pasture and in the morning, a herd of cows, trampled over both of them. Uncle Wallace slept through the whole thing while the other guy had a cow step on his throat and had his larynx crushed which ended up okay because he became famous for a while for his baritone singing voice. Uncle Wallace managed his singing career for a few months before the guy wised up.” Minky Natchez

“He got one green eye and one blue eye. He the devil. The devil on earth. He put baby in sister’s belly.” Barnaby Clozier

Gingo - The Lord of TV Bingo Reruns, and Grand Theft Parsons

“It doesn’t mean I’ll never try, I just don’t know the reasons why.” Johnny Thunders

“Heaven holds a place for those who play, hey, hey, hey...” Knute Garfunkle

To save a few bucks on gas I now tailgate in hopes of getting in on that free drafting or drifting or whatever the hell that is. Hyper-planing. Yeah, thanks Mister Google. A few weeks ago while conserving some serious gas coin I was so close to the car in front of me I was able to actually watch television from the two small monitors installed into the back of each headrest. I’m not sure if it was the fact that I was watching their onboard television for free or whether it was that I was driving a mere inch or so from the sedan’s rear bumper, but the driver was obviously annoyed at my attempt to shrink my carbon footprint .The driver would jam on the breaks, I guess to send some type of message, although I don’t think that’s very safe, but hey, no problem since I have the reflexes of a cat. Some people are born with striking good looks and a natural sense of direction. No, not me. My innate talent is having reflexes like a cat - a slipstream driving feline of some exotic variety. Not like a Tiger though. Tigers have seemingly fallen out of fashion. So, for about twenty minutes I watched Big Money TV Bingo without using one litre of petrol. Now, I’m hooked on both hyper-planing and TV Bingo.

I have now taken to watching Big Money TV Bingo every Saturday night, and mass for shut-ins every Sunday morning. The TV Bingo is beamed live out of Sudbury. The mass for shut-ins comes from all over. I’m not fussy. There are some similarities between the two televised offerings which I find comforting in some indefinable way. Personally, I think that the two programs should be combined to kill two birds with one stone; the luring promise of personal salvation and up to $5000 for a full square. Might be a difficult pitch, mind you. Throw in some reality angle; some type of pay-per-view extravaganza. Maybe each week a contestant who calls in a full card and accurately quotes from the Book of Leviticus is picked up in a white van then dispatched by the show’s producer where the lucky winner is forced, possibly by gunpoint, to pole vault over a tank of hammerhead sharks, or jump a lagoon with a scooter or punch out a polar bear, or at the very least, shove it around a little and see what happens. Big Money Bingo Bloodshed with funds to be raised for the North Bay Blood Bank. But I digress.

MANTRACKER RECEIVES NUTCRACKER

According to Bangus Fact Checker Mississippi Gary, the Mantracker guy who tracks people and then kind of gets bossy has been treated for what is being referred to as a "serious nut cracker" suffered while attending a charity event hosted by the Benevolent Order of Bangus Bison. The Mantracker who was also the recipient of the Bangus Man of The Year for tracking a guy who stole three large skidder tires and hid them in his neighbour's garage.

A witness to the mishap Ronnie Jintz, told Mississippi Gary that Mantracker was walking with his paper plate to the table lined with rolled meats and deviled eggs when he "rammed his nut-sack into a nail that was kind of sticking out of the table."

The nail pierced both testicles and one testicle of the man standing directly behind him.