Feline DNA Used to Create Self-Cleaning Toilet Paper

Faux­macy Indus­tries will intro­duce ReFresh, self-cleaning toi­let paper, just in time for the hol­i­day season.

The secret to this amaz­ing prod­uct, which will save fam­i­lies hun­dreds of dol­lar in bath­room tis­sue every year, is DNA farmed from the tongues of felines. It also has an unin­ten­tional perk of pro­vid­ing a tick­lish feel­ing with every wipe, due to the tiny barbs on the cat’s tongue.

Sold in a sin­gle, resus­able square, ReFresh retails for $9.95, so the whole fam­ily can have their own. Faux­macy also sells an attrac­tive Square-Shelf to hold your ReFresh col­lec­tion until needed.

ReFresh comes in a vari­ety of cleans­ing scents: Lemon-Fresh, Lush Laven­der, and Rosey Cheeks. Focus groups revealed that scented squares are more pop­u­lar with females than males.

One female con­sumer described the feel­ing of using a Lush Laven­der square made her feel like her bot­tom smelled like a gar­den of earthly delight, while a male sub­ject said that when he leaves the john, he doesn’t want his ass smelling like anything.

As a result, Faux­macy will also offer an unscented square, along with a more mas­cu­line scent–Musky Manhole.

Sur­pris­ingly, the chocolate-scented square, Tushie Roll, did not test well; there­fore, it has been discontinued.

Antique Mall Features Satanic Altar in Latest Newsletter

Kissimicoochee’s antique mall, Find­ers Keep­ers, fea­tured an authen­tic Satanic altar in this week’s newslet­ter.  “This barely used altar with a cute pen­ta­gram motif can be used as a cof­fee table in your great room to serve chips and dips for your next Super Bowl party,” wrote owner, Dot­tie Dodd.  “For moth­ers with a love of inte­grat­ing a piece’s his­tory into their every­day life, you might con­sider using this altar, which was briefly used for infant sac­ri­fice to sup­pos­edly keep Angie Dick­in­son, television’s for­mer Police Woman, look­ing youth­ful, as a chang­ing table in the nurs­ery.  Num­ber one and num­ber two will eas­ily clean off the surface–as surely as blood did in the past–making it pop­u­lar with any­one stuck with dia­per duty.  If pen­ta­grams make you uncom­fort­able, you can always flip it over and turn them into stars.  The goat head in the cen­ter of the pen­ta­gram can be car­ried over into a friendly barn­yard theme through­out the nursery.”

Mary Ann Snow, Pres­i­dent of Kissim­i­coochee First Bap­tist Church’s Women’s Brigade and mem­ber of their all-female choir, the Bible Bel­ters, has planned a protest in front of Find­ers Keep­ers tomor­row at lunchtime.  “Bring a sack lunch, your bible, and a sock mon­key to burn at our Bon­fire to Restore Jesus as King,” said Snow.  “We’re going to raise a lit­tle hell of our own tomorrow.”

When asked to com­ment on the reac­tion to this week’s Find­ers Keep­ers e-newsletter, Dodd said, “I don’t know why every­one is mak­ing such a fuss out of this Satanic altar.  What draws so many peo­ple to antiques is to take a for­got­ten object and repur­pose it in some way to reveal a new beauty in it that was invis­i­ble before.  Fur­ther­more, Kissim­i­coochee Bap­tist Church is going to receive 10 per­cent off the sale of this Satanic altar in the form of my tithe once it sells, so if they really want that new fam­ily recre­ation cen­ter, back off.”

Dea­con Don Snow, also of Kissim­i­coochee First Bap­tist Church and Mary Ann Snow’s hus­band, announced this evening that the sock mon­key bon­fire has been can­celed as it was all just a ter­ri­ble mis­un­der­stand­ing and to remind all his broth­ers and sis­ters in Christ to shop local.

Pole Dancing for Jesus

My mom is so funny.  I was talk­ing to her on the phone last week, and she told me that she was con­sid­er­ing tak­ing pole danc­ing lessons at the Bap­tist Church, just after the rest stop.

They teach pole danc­ing at the Bap­tist Church!” I said

Yeah, this girl does it for Jesus,” Mom said, casu­ally.  “She feels like God has been good to her, so she wants to give back and decided to teach pole danc­ing and zumba for free.”

I imag­ined my mother in a leo­tard, leap­ing onto a pole, mug­ging seduc­tively at an unseen cam­era, as she slowly used her arms and legs to slowly twist her way down to the floor.  My other friends’ moth­ers were play­ing Mahjong and learn­ing to bake cake pops.  Still, I admired my mother for not resign­ing her­self to being old at 68, and con­tin­u­ing to explore what­ever inter­ested her.

“Are you going to do it?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said.  “I’m already so busy with zumba and belly danc­ing, I don’t see how I’d work it in and still have time for your daddy.”

“Maybe you could con­vince Dad to take pole danc­ing lessons with you,” I joked.

In the silence that fol­lowed, I heard the ham­ster in my mother’s head break into a brisk sprint.  “You know, that’s not a bad idea.  It would really strengthen his core–and it’d give him some­thing to talk about down at the gun club.”

I rolled my eyes.  “Do you really think Dad would take pole danc­ing lessons with you at the Bap­tist church?”

“You know your father,” Mom said.  “Any­thing for Jesus!”


Woman Plans Addition to Uterus for Household Storage

Mag­gie Fisher plans to add on to her uterus next week in a dras­tic move to make more stor­age space for her family’s clutter.

“With the hous­ing mar­ket upside down, we can’t afford to sell our home for more than we owe, so mov­ing to a larger home is not an option,” Fisher, 31, a home­maker and extreme cup­cake dec­o­ra­tor, said.  “As a result, I’ve had to become an ama­teur home orga­nizer and make use of every bit of space that I have.”

Fisher first had the idea to use her uterus for stor­age space when her mother-in-law called from the air­port and said she was on her way for a sur­prise visit.  “I was fran­ti­cally run­ning around the house like a chicken with my head cut off, shov­ing tup­per­ware under the sofa cush­ions and hid­ing stray chee­rios under the pot­pourri, when my youngest said, ‘We need more woom, Mommy,’ only I heard her say, ‘We need more womb.’  Sud­denly, I had a flash of inspi­ra­tion and just started shov­ing clut­ter up inside myself.”

By the time her mother-in-law arrived, Fisher had man­aged to put a remark­able amount of clut­ter out of sight.  “I thought I had got­ten it all, but as we walked through the house, I kept find­ing things, so I’d stick them into my uterus when my mother-in-law wasn’t look­ing:  junk mail, galoshes, a kite, and a soft­ball bat.”

When asked if her mother-in-law ever caught on, Fisher said, “Not at all.  In fact, the only time she gave me a sus­pi­cious look is when I sneezed and the Hello Kitty umbrella opened up inside me.  Whoo, that’s a sur­prise feel­ing I’ll never forget!”

Sur­prised at how much the walls of the womb can stretch, Fisher con­tin­ued to store more clut­ter inside her­self; how­ever, she finally reached capac­ity.  “My stretch marks now have stretch marks,” she said.  “Most peo­ple think I’m preg­nant with octuplets.”

Plas­tic sur­geons in Thai­land have promised Fisher that she can add another ten square feet with the surgery, which she and her hus­band have sched­uled as a joint sec­ond honeymoon/medical tourism.  “I saved up a lot of money bak­ing erotic cup­cakes for bach­e­lor and bach­e­lorette parties.”

Although most peo­ple would sug­gest that a sim­pler approach might be just to cull some of the clut­ter out of her life, Fisher dis­agrees.  “I’m afraid I’m too sen­ti­men­tal for that.  I can’t give away my children’s baby clothes, and where else am I going to stick the Christ­mas dec­o­ra­tions?  I can’t stick that seven-foot imi­ta­tion fir just anywhere!”

Local DJ Claims to Have Discovered Long Lost Member of Bananarama in His Deepfreeze

For­mer KISS 96 DJ, Chuck “Me-Roc” Den­ton, called the Kissime­coochee Police Depart­ment over the week­end and claimed that he found the long lost mem­ber of Bana­narama, Britain’s most suc­cess­ful all girl group ever, in his deep­freeze, between a half-gallon of May­field Moose Tracks ice cream and a family-pack of Mrs. Paul’s Fish Sticks.

Bana­narama was orig­i­nally founded in 1981 by Sara Dallin, Siob­han Fahey, and Keren Wood­ward.  Fahey left the group in early 1988 to pur­sue a new musi­cal direc­tion with Shakespear’s Sis­ter.  She was replaced by singer Jacquie O’Sullivan, who left the group in 1991.  Dallin and Wood­ward have car­ried on as Bana­narama since that time.  It was unclear as to whether Den­ton was refer­ring to Fahey or O’Sullivan, and how they came to be in Kissime­coochee, Geor­gia, let alone his deepfreeze.

When Sher­iff Amos Tucker arrived at Denton’s home, he dis­cov­ered a small body shrouded in col­or­ful Hello Kitty wrap­ping paper.  When Sher­iff Tucker called in his foren­sics spe­cial­ist, Bob Eubanks, owner of Bob’s Big Beef Butcher Shop, they dis­cov­ered the body to be ven­tril­o­quist dummy with a pic­ture of Susan­nah Hoff’s face taped the head of the dummy.  Although Hoff’s was a mem­ber of an all-female band in the 80s, she was a lead vocal­ist and rhythm gui­tarist for The Bangles–not Bananarama.

Bananrama’s man­age­ment con­firmed that all cur­rent and for­mer mem­bers are alive and well.  Dallin & Wood­ward are tour­ing the U.S. as part of Pink­to­ber, the Hard Rock Cafe’s cam­paign for breast can­cer aware­ness.  Fahey still records new music as Shake­spears Sis­ter and divides her time between Los Ange­les and the U.K.  O’Sullivan teaches yoga & belly dances, now spend­ing most of her time in Thai­land and India.

Denton’s mother, Etta Gale, announced at a press con­fer­ence out­side her trailer this morn­ing that her son had checked into the Shady Mead­ows Clinic & RV Park for treat­ment.  “Bubba’s been writ­ing his mem­oirs for the past few years,” Etta Gale said.  “Recently, he had been sad­dened by how much smaller the chicken ten­ders had got­ten in the Coun­try Bas­ket down at Dairy Queen, and I think Mr. Sharma (Reg­gie Sharma, the owner of the Kissimeecoochee Dairy Queen) shares some of the blame for Bubba’s relapse.”

Some res­i­dents of Kissime­coochee may recall how Den­ton retired after lock­ing him­self in the sound booth at KISS 96 and play­ing Falco’s “Rock Me Amadeus” over and over again until a lock­smith arrived.  Den­ton retired and was treated at Shady Mead­ows for an addic­tion to For­mula 44T, a dia­bol­i­cal mix­ture of Vick’s cough syrup and sweet tea.

Top Ten Best Cities to Hold a Star Trek Convention

As I was flip­ping through an atlas the other day, I came across a num­ber of unusu­ally named cities that would make great places to hold a Star Trek con­ven­tion.  Trekkies, take note of the top ten best cities to hold a Star Trek convention:

01. Kirk, Texas

02. McCoy, Colorado

03. Vul­can, West Virginia

04. Romu­lus, New York

05. Rod­den­berry, Georgia

06. Enter­prise, West Virginia

07. Chapel Hill, North Carolina

08. Pike, California

09. Mudville, TN

10. Trib­ble, West Virginia

Foghorn Leghorn Photographed Dining at Chick-Fil-A

The National Enquirer pub­lished pho­tos this week of pop­u­lar Looney Toons char­ac­ter Foghorn Leghorn din­ing at a Chick-Fil-A out­side of Louisville, Ken­tucky. Fel­low din­ers expressed shock when the famous Leghorn rooster with a South­ern accent ate two orders of chicken nuggets, while they snapped pho­tographs with their cell phones.

When later asked how it felt to be a pho­tographed as a true chicken can­ni­bal at Chick-Fil-A, Leghorn replied, “That’s a joke, I say, that’s a joke, son. I just went inside for some waf­fle fries.”

Oddly, no one seemed bent out of shape that Leghorn was seen canoodling in a booth near the Chick-Fil-A play­ground with Gun­ther & Cochise, a pair of pec implant-enhanced, heav­ily tat­tooed con­joined twins who have appeared in a series of pop­u­lar Slo­vak gay porn films, most notably, Tit for Tat.

I think it’s safe to assume that the Amer­i­can peo­ple believe it’s okay for our anthro­po­mor­phic celebri­ties to date Siamese twin, gay porn stars, just as long as they’re not can­ni­bals,” said Peanuts char­ac­ter and celebrity vegan, Pep­per­mint Patty.

The Chicken Fried Players Present 'The Trial & Execution of Socrates' Southern Style

The Chicken Fried Play­ers will present a South­ern style adap­ta­tion of The Trial & Exe­cu­tion of Socrates as part of the Bubba’s Burn It at the Steak­house Din­ner The­ater Series.

The project is the brain­child of Mr. Mal­lory, Loomis, 53, the Kissim­i­coochee High School Drama Teacher.  Loomis not only directed the play, but also co-wrote it with Myr­tle B. Lou­d­er­milk, 67, our local Post Mistress.

The play tells the story of Okrates, a Yan­kee philoso­pher, who comes to the small, South­ern town of Kissiyur­coochee, and tries to con­vince the youth to turn their backs on foot­ball and Jesus and devote them­selves to phi­los­o­phy.  In the end, the local cit­i­zens put Okrates on trial and con­demn him to death by drink­ing so much sweet tea that it sends him into dia­betic shock.

Okrates will be played by Cle­tus Clowter, 58, the Donut Hole Spe­cial­ist at the Dunk & Dine Donut Shop.  When asked why he sud­denly decided to take to the stage, Clowter said, “Well, when peo­ple think of me, I don’t want them to say, ‘You know, he only does holes,’ because I am so much more than just holes.”

The pro­duc­tion will also fea­ture the designs by Cos­tume Mis­tress Hen­ri­etta Puck­ett, 73, a retired Avon Rep­re­sen­ta­tive and alli­ga­tor wrestler.  “I had orig­i­nally planned to go with a tra­di­tional white toga, but from the audi­ence, the actors looked like the Ku Klux Klan,” said Ms. Puck­ett.  “To rem­edy that I put all the men in ging­ham togas.”

Mr. Loomis has asked that when the­ater lovers come to see The Trial & Exe­cu­tion of Okrates, please do not throw peanut shells at the actors.  “It’s best to just drop your peanut shells on the floor, because if the actors step on them, they may slip,” Loomis said.  “Our cast con­sists of method actors, so they’re not wear­ing under­wear under those togas.  If they slip on a peanut shell, you’re going to see a lot more than just the show.”

Unique Company Turns Your Deceased Pets into Ice Cream Topping

When Tammy Turner, 37, a home­maker in San Flan, Cal­i­for­nia, lost her beloved tabby, Mrs. Pussy­foot, last year, she had no idea it would lead to a home-based busi­ness.  “I was dev­as­tated,” Turner said.  “Mrs. Pussy­foot had been with me since I was in college–she was part of the family.”

After her daugh­ter, Ger­tie, was born two years ago, Turner ate her pla­centa to pre­vent post-partum depres­sion, aid with breast feed­ing, and clean/shrink her uterus.  “When­ever I breast fed Ger­tie, I felt so much closer to her, know­ing that I had eaten the pla­centa that linked us together for those nine months.”

When Turner received Mrs. Pussyfoot’s ashes back after her beloved cat’s cre­ma­tion, she won­dered why she couldn’t expe­ri­ence the same feel­ing with her recently deceased feline.  “Mrs. Pussy­foot loved milk, and I some­times let her lick a lit­tle bit of my ice cream as a treat, so it seemed only fit­ting to use her ashes to make an ice cream topping.”

Turner went into her kitchen with her feline’s remains and checked her pantry.  “Since Mrs. Pussy­foot was an orange tabby and I had a bag of caramels in the cab­i­net, I decided to turn her into a lovely but­ter­scotch sauce,” Turner said.  “She turned out to be on ice cream exactly as she was in life–mellow and sweet.”

After writ­ing about the expe­ri­ence on her pop­u­lar mommy blog, The­Life andTimesofTammyTurner.blogspot.com, Turner soon received requests from read­ers to turn their deceased pets into ice cream top­pings.  Thus, Pussy Sauce and Puppy Sauce were born.

I try to match the fla­vor to the breed of the ani­mal,” Turner said.  “For exam­ple, today I’m turn­ing a beau­ti­ful Bom­bay named Buster into a fudge sauce and a gor­geous white Per­sian named Princess Fluffy into a vanilla bean sauce.”

Cus­tomer Bil­lie Ham­mer­smith, 51, a pedi­atric nurse said, “After ingest­ing Patches’ remains over a big ol’ bowl of Blue Bell, the Cir­cle of Life was com­plete.  I felt him in a way that I had never felt before.  I have to admit, though, he also gave me the runs.”

Some physi­cians and ani­mal rights groups have expressed hor­ror and health con­cern about ingest­ing deceased pets as dessert top­pings, but Turner dis­misses such crit­i­cism.  “It’s a pet owner thing,” she said.  “They wouldn’t understand.”

Foot Fetish Snuff Film Ring Shut Down by Local Police

Kissim­i­coochee Police arrested Earl Joe Tomp­kins, 38, a mechanic, and Terry Atkins, 34, a Wal-Mart greeter, after com­plaints from Wendy Hud­son, 43, a side dish spe­cial­ist at the Blue Bird of Snap­pi­ness Cafe­te­ria, that they were pay­ing her mother Imo­gene Winslow, 68, a retired lunch lady at Kissim­i­coochee Mid­dle School, to muti­late her toes in feet fetish films.

Police Chief Bubba Math­ers had intended to just talk with Tomp­kins and Atkins, but Tomp­kins assaulted Chief Math­ers with a frozen casse­role that Atkins kept in the deep freeze for when some­one in the Kissim­i­coochee First Bap­tist Church con­gre­ga­tion passes, and Atkins attempted to stran­gle him with a push-up bra.

After Chief Math­ers and Deputy Dougie Brown, 24, sub­dued Tomp­kins and Atkins, they dis­cov­ered one of the bed­rooms of the mobile home they share to be filled with video equip­ment.  The cou­ple had been suc­cess­fully pro­duc­ing feet fetish films to sell DVDs and stream the video on their web­site, www.SmellMyFeet.com.  Atkins told police that they had orig­i­nally started with videos of her exfo­li­at­ing cal­luses off her heels and paint­ing her toe­nails, while Tomp­kins filmed solo videos where he took his shoes and socks off after a long day at the garage for their homo­sex­ual viewers.

Things went south about six months ago when Tomp­kins became too enthu­si­as­tic dur­ing one of his solo videos and knocked a bowl­ing ball onto his foot, crush­ing his lit­tle toe.  “Every­one went crazy,” Tomkins said.  “We got all these e-mails from fans about how they wanted to see more bad things hap­pen to good toes.”

Rec­og­niz­ing a cash cow when she saw one, Atkins began to reach out to local res­i­dents who weren’t really using their toes, like Winslow, who is con­fined to a wheel­chair.  Atkins explained to Winslow how she could sup­ple­ment her mea­ger social secu­rity retire­ment by eighty-sixing a toe.

I can’t walk, any­more,” Winslow said.  “So I fig­ured why not cash in a toe or two and make  a few bucks?”

Atkins came up with sce­nar­ios that she would film, usu­ally cen­ter­ing around Tomkins, dressed as a bur­glar, break­ing into Winslow’s home and giv­ing her a foot mas­sage, then blow­ing off a toe with his pis­tol.  The cou­ple then mar­keted the videos with sor­did titles such as This Lit­tle Piggy Bites Gets Blown Away, This Lit­tle Piggy Has a Death Wish, and their best­selling film, This Lit­tle Piggy Bites the Dust.

Hud­son first came sus­pi­cious once spring came round and sea­son san­dal returned.  “I was help­ing Mama put on a pair of flip flops when I noticed that the herd was thin­ning.  I said, ‘Mama, what have you done with your toes?’  And then she spilled the beans.”

It’s unfair to say that we took advan­tage of any­one,” Atkins said.  “We paid every­one hand­somely for every toe we blew off.”

I don’t care how they try to spin it,” Hud­son said.  “Both of them knew that my mama has a gam­bling habit.  Before they could stop the bleed­ing, Mama was wheel­ing herself–cash in hand–to catch the dis­abil­ity bus to the Wig­wam Casino over in Alabama.  They know­ingly prof­ited from her addiction.”

Chief Math­ers said that Tomkins and Atkins are both being held with­out bail, after dis­cov­er­ing a con­trap­tion that had two ropes with five tiny nooses at the end of each one and a script titled Hang Ten.  “We’ve since dis­cov­ered that Atkins had been going to visit Edna Hawkins down at the Sun­shine Assisted Liv­ing Facil­ity and wash­ing her feet,” Chief Math­ers said.  “Ms. Hawkins suf­fers from edema and Atkins had been over­heard say­ing, ‘What beau­ti­ful big toes you have,’ so we think it’s best to keep these two behind bars for now.”