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First, you're going to buy a pumpkin about the size of a keg of beer, and smash it on your patio. Then you're going to the library for follow-up Halloween exercises.
As speculation of a North Korean coup heats up, everyone wants to know, where is Kim Jong-un? Unfortunately, I know the truth: he's living in my basement.
Sure, your soul could be possessed by demons and your entire being assimilated into an abyss of utter, inescapable darkness. But it's a risk worth taking.
The afternoon sunlight burst through my windshield with a Machiavellian magnificence, creating streaks of radiance dancing through my careening automobile.
For years the modern man has been fascinated by the dolphin's purported ability to have sex for pleasure. But to get a dolphin in the mood, it needs proper foreplay.
Sure you have to be ruthless and commit inhumane acts to maintain the culture of fear and desperation that keeps you in power, but it really is a charmed life.
The world knows George, John, Ringo, Paul, and the apparent nine "5th Beatles." Well I am Henry J. Bradleighman of Bangladesh, the mysterious "6th Beatle."
ISIS wasn't inspired by the prophet Muhammad, or even Mohamed Al-Fayed. It's a front for a formerly secret society of street thugs who played the Slender Man.
Reality TV shows are a dime a boring dozen these days. That's why we've created "The Real Housewives of Mogadishu" and "Top Homeless Chef"!
Two people with varying degrees of social anxiety are placed in a random setting, anything from happy hour to a funeral, and tasked with out-awkwarding each other.
Our Protestant mindset is so obfuscated by other fundamentalisms that we don't see the obvious: we have to show these Muslim teens that virginity is overrated.
Special effects came on in leaps and bounds, Disney was in its golden age, and asshole Hollywood producers were yet to try and release every single film in 3D.