Sarah Palin Nude

Two little kids are in a hospital, lying on gurneys next to each other outside the operating room. The first kid leans over and asks, "What are you in for?"

The second kid says, "I'm in here to get my tonsils out and I'm nervous as a whore in church."

The first kid says, "No problem, dawg. I had that done when I was four. They put you to sleep and when you wake up they give you all the ice cream you can eat. Nothing to it."

The second kid then inquires: "What are you in here for then?"

The first kid says, "Circumcision."

The second kid says, "You gotta be shittin' me! Good luck with that one, pal. I had it done when I was born and couldn't walk for a fuckin' year."

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Dental Etiquette

The pulchritudinous Salty Slivers entered the dental surgery with the customary trepidation.

The dental assistant took care of the preliminaries with all the efficiencies known to Lesbos.

Then the great man himself strode merrily into the surgery, flashed the customer a rictus of blinding fluorescence and, approaching the reclined dental chair, inquired: "And how are we this morning, then?"

Whereupon an expression of total incredulity instantly transformed his visage.

Salty, having grasped the dentist's bollocks in a grip a two-ton vice would have envied, gazed steadily up into his stunned bloodshot eyes.

"We are fine this morning, doctor--thus far. And I'm sure there is nothing we would do to cause either of us any pain, wouldn't you agree?"

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When Proctology Goes Too Far

Breast Implant Brouhaha

PEST (Post-Electoral Stress Syndrome)

Following her humiliating electoral defeat, Sarah fell into a depression so contagious, it enveloped her husband, Todd, just like that humongous fart in the Wasilla Assembly of God that had TKO'd the pastor for 25 minutes.

Sarah's friend, John, had repossessed her wardrobe, fired her cosmetologist and called her "a stupid bitch and a smelly cunt--you fucked up the whole thing, you rotten snatch!!" In front of the entire staff, all of whom were blasted. On Budweiser™, provided by John's wife at cost plus 65%.

Sarah and Todd had to be admitted to The Bush Center for the Delusionally Self-Confident in Bumfuck, Idaho--for their own protection: both were thought to be contemplating suicide except for the fact neither knew how this was done according to the preliminary IQ screening.

Therapy was going well--Sarah had learned to read and her husband had learned to watch TV, then roll over and go back to sleep.

At last, the psychoanalyst insisted they go outside and take a walk. Exercise was essential to full recovery, just like a low-fat, high carbohydrate diet.

So they were walking past the hospital swimming pool when Todd suddenly jumped into the deep end.

He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there. He'd had enough.

Sarah promptly jumped in to save him.

She swam to the bottom and pulled him out.

When the psychoanalyst became aware of Sarah's heroic act she immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as it was her professional assessment that Sarah, formerly bipolar, was now for the first time in her life, mentally stable.

When the good doctor went to tell Sarah the news she said, "Sarah, I have good news and bad news."

"The good news is you're being discharged--you were able to respond rationally--indeed heroically--to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of the person you love most second only to yourself. I have concluded that your act displays sound-mindedness and a robust full-lotus gestalt empowering you, once again, to go forth into society and resume your good works."

"The bad news, I'm afraid, is that Todd hanged himself in the bathroom with his bathrobe belt right after you saved him. I am so sorry, but he's dead."

"Well, I'll be danged, who'd a thunk it," Sarah replied. "But, heck, he didn't hang himself! No way, José--suicide is a sin! Just plain wrong! I just put him up there to dry!"

"Now how soon can I go home and git back to work?"

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Sermon on the Sphincter

A man had just been laid off from work.

He should have been elated. Inexplicably, he instead descended unto the abyss of a profound depression--he would not be able to service his underwater mortgage and make the minimum payment on his wife's credit card bill.

Despondent, he found himself standing on the railing of a high bridge getting ready to jump off, when he happened to look down and see a little man with no arms dancing all around on the river bank below.

He thought to himself, "Y'know, maybe life isn't so bad after all," and got off the railing.

He then walked down to the river bank to thank the little man for saving his life.

"Thank you!" he exclaimed. "I was going to jump off that bridge and kill myself but when I saw you dancing even though you have no arms, I changed my mind."

"I'm not dancing," the armless man replied bitterly.

"My asshole itches, and I can't scratch it...."


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MBA Case Study #327(a)

Women's Badminton Final Results

JOCOP News Service, August 14, 2998, Beijing

The Journal, in contrast to the athletic coverage provided by those jock-sniffer lesbians at "Spurts Illustrated" is proud to present the first photograph of the gold-medal winner of the Womens' Badminton competition, Grushenka Hematova, shown below.

Hematova defeated Kenichi Nutsagone of Japan, 104-2, in the finals at the Olympic Stadium yesterday during the quadrennial celebration of international solidarity and pharmaceutical innovation at the 2008 Steriad in Beijing, starring Roger Clemons.

How Many Flunkies Does It Take To Screw In A Megalomaniac?

The JOCOP Guide to Wellness, Part I

In line with work by seminal healers including Doctors Salk, Kevorkian, Zhivago, Feelgood and Mengele, together with the entirety of the medico-evangelico-ecoindustrial conspiracy, The Journal kicks off the first in a series of occasional articles on Wellness aimed at the Readership's unique health concerns centered around two (5) main issues, viz., Dynamic Eugenics™, Autodidactic Dipsomania (AD) and Transpastic Satyriasis (TS). With a side order of SSRI's (Selective Service Reuptake Inhibitors), hold the mayo.


In a number of carefully controlled trials, Creation Theorists at Bob Jones University have demonstrated that if sampler-erroniacs drink one litre of water each day, at the end of the year the cubistic concrescence would have absorbed more than one kilo of E. Coli (Escherichia coli)--fecal bacteria.

Without adjustment for additional variables, we are consuming approximately one kilo of shit per year.

Notwithstanding all the above, the RQ (risk quotient) is not verifiably present in the case of alcohol ingestion wherein the bibulocity is rendered pure via boiling, fermentation, filtering and/or waterboarding.

Aide Memoir:

Water = Shit
Alcohol = Health

As anticipated by our forebears who intuitively factored the above into their daily regimen of bibulous frontier prophylaxis, it's one thing to drink wine and talk stupid. It's another to drink water and be full of shit.