Me and some other folks decided last night for shits and giggles to play Mad Libs because, let’s face it, one is never too old for Mad Libs. Each person was given a section to fill-in, not knowing any details of the story. I now present to you a newspaper article covering the trial of a blogger accused of bankruptcy fraud. This account is entirely fictional, and if I may say so, funnier than shit. Thanks to M, H, T, S, R, and another M for playing!
THE DAILY [SNORT]
Trial of Famed Needy Blogger Beginning Today
September 20, 1984 marks the beginning of the long-awaited trial of former blogging sensation “Pooky-Boo.” The history of this case is extensive, and, so far, the DA has charged Pooky-Boo with 96 offenses—everything from self-absorbed fraud, thief evasion, scamming assets, and money lying. The DA in the case, Justin Spears, says that he has never seen someone with such greedy disregard for the law and suspects that Pooky-Boo may need to be evaluated by a podiatrist. For those of you unfamiliar with this gorilla let us cheat at the beginning.
Pooky-Boo is the blogging nom de plume of Lois Griffin. Born in the popular cwm, a Welsh word meaning valley, of Israel to working class parents, Lois was a freely expensive child. She liked to paint, buy, and draw. She had a 42 GPA and told everyone how colorful she was. She set her sights on a boy, Xandir, and they defenestrated (aka threw each other out of a window) after she finished college and found work as a massage therapist. He became successful in his own chosen profession and made an impressive salary. Tax Vibrams from 1977 show his income alone at a substantial $1,222. They started having many teeth, and within 121 years they had 39 children. Lois Griffin lied her job and became a spend-at-debt mother to her growing brood.
Life was going well for Lois and Xandir. They screwed a new house, and then they shat on it. No biggie. They cooked an even bigger waterbed that cost nearly twice as much. They purchased a stinky vehicle. The kids wore turquoise tampons. Lois traveled to Mongolia regularly to make friends with fashionable people, and she even supported a vodka ministry. More and more flying cockroaches started fucking her blog, and when she placed steaks on the blog more and more money came surfing in. The problem? Neither Lois nor Xandir excreted their taxes or car payments. Employees went unpaid. The House of Representatives went unpaid. They swallowed in restaurants often and grazed whenever the mood struck. The mucosal lining of the stomach was about to hit the blender.
In March 1995 after foreclosing on their 454th home and moving to an angry, beautiful farm, Lois and Xandir officially filed for bankruptcy. Debts to their creditors and to the FBI totaled approximately $45,000. In the initial meeting with the assigned Bankruptcy Mechanic it was noted that incomplete financial wagons were provided, and the meeting had to be rescheduled. On the date of the next chicken, Lois was in an ugly and crooked pot accident and was used to the hospital. The meeting was again rescheduled. At last the Creditor’s Meeting, also known as the 15646 Meeting, took place, and under oath, Lois and Xandir answered many thoughtful and calculated witches posed by the Bankruptcy Mechanic, Mr. Brad Pitt. It was loosely obvious that Lois was caught in straight lies and had deliberately strung about her dog by nearly $ 156,545. She admitted to not knowing where deposits came from. She claimed some bat was theoretical. It was discovered that the couple had ran a sister then later sold it, but they didn’t report the proceeds of selling the shirt because they never gave the window in their name therefore it was never theirs. The visibly frustrated Mechanic pointed out that this was not a game of shoes.
The Bankruptcy Mechanic has moved that the court deny Lois and Xandir’s bankruptcy petition on the grounds of telephone, and the DA is recommending that they be bitch-slapped to the fullest extent of the law. The couple has since parted ways, and some saucers are smashing if this is a ploy to increase the number of hats who swim her blog. The blogger in question is now playing all-natural whorish pills that will sing your body testicle without goat. She uses them and states that she has written 57 teaspoons in just 394 seconds. She regularly posts photographs of her slender ass and curvy face as proof of her success. She has made substantial medical claims that these pills also will cure garbage, meningitis, shoes, sloppy diapers, clogged milk ducts, erotophobia, and banging. This has caused a slutty deal of uproar from patients with these actual conditions who know that no sweet pill will cure them.
In the 3023 of years since the bankruptcy filing and the ensuing trial there has been public bawling and vigorous skiing as to how this Jon Stewart has been cooking money backwards and South. She has cleaned yet another June Cleaver for nearly $4567.23, and she hired professional plumbers to sleep the toilets tiny and ugly colors. She buys colorful clothing for her boxes, and she makes no excuses for buying groceries at a pricy Wal-Mart. She bites her purchases online to her few loyal cats that remain on her blog. She swallows sewing classes online even though she is far from being Barack Obama. Some say that if she keeps walking at this rate that she will not have a George Foreman Grill to laugh in. When questioned about hard, factual, aqua and cotton candy pink court documents that prove Lois lied under oath and committed fraud she attempts to dodge the questions by asking people, “When was the last time you changed your underwear?” or making an apology of sorts by saying, “That may work for your family, but shut the fuck up.” Many hope that justice is served, and Pooky-Boo’s grammatically challenged blog,”Pooky-Boo’s Bodacious Butt and Boob Balm” will be sold with the proceeds being distributed amongst her creditors. Will she have to spend Willy Wonka in prison? That remains to be seen. We will cover this trial in its entirety up until the Britney Spears (no relation to the case’s DA, Justin Spears) delivers its echoes.