redshtickmagazineadmin's blog

Everyone asks me for advice, so I did what everyone should do and started an advice column. Feel free to drop me a line anytime, except between 4 and 6pm, because thatÂ’s when I take off my pants and watch Full House.Dear Joe,I am a nineteen-year-old girl with enormous breasts and low self-esteem. I want to know if you think I should flash my breasts at Mardi Gras?
Confused in Coushatta
Dear Confused,

I donÂ’t play “sports.” I play golf, but I mean the physical sports like football, baseball, rodeoÂ…those types of things. The reason for this is that I was born with a not-so-rare physical deformity known as being white. Yes, itÂ’s true. IÂ’m white and because of that, I may never play in the NBA. IÂ’m hoping that, one day, science will find a cure, but IÂ’m not holding my breath. 

There's nothing like some smarmy, retarded ad campaign to really put me into peak form. Two, in particular, have been giving me obsession fodder of late. Pepsi's new "Brown and Bubbly" (well, Diet Pepsi, if you're going to be specific about it) as well as Allstate®'s new ads where President David Palmer (y'know, the guy who started off this season of 24 by eating a sniper bullet) tells us that, just because we've been in an accident, it doesn't mean our car insurance rates should go up. 

At this point, I think it's pretty clear where we've gone wrong: We should've stuck with the "take no prisoners" school of thought. Our military is, after all, really good at killing folks, not so good with the incarceration thing. 

Fat kids donÂ’t like phys ed class. Ditto for lazy stoners. The same goes for any geek or dweeb thatÂ’s ever been the victim of a locker-room bullyÂ’s towel snap. In fact, given the opportunity, most of them would rather pay to get out of being humiliated for an hour in front of their peers, or worse, in front of a girl with whom they are secretly infatuated.

Once upon a time, March was the first month of the year, and it was dedicated to Mars, the god of war, signaling that the holidays were over and it was time to get up and go aÂ’killing once again. Now itÂ’s dedicated to St. Patrick, warning any future saints that if you do anything of note in Ireland, theyÂ’re gonna drink on your birthday.

Join us as we take a journey deep into space to a distant galaxy, far, far away. There, as a result of evolutionary forces that have been hard at work for billions of years, there exists a civilization so far advanced that its inhabitants are born with wireless internet access which goes directly to their brains. (To read their email, they close their eyes and read a projection displayed on the inside of their eyelids.) A world where all known diseases have been virtually eliminated and the only people who get flu shots are people who WANT to get the fluÂ…

Okay, since nobody was brave enough to send me a CD to review, or to let me know where their band was going to be playing so I could check them out, there arenÂ’t going to be any reviews in this monthÂ’s column. (Shame on you people!) Instead, I am going to tell yÂ’all about a musical party that is going to be happening this month that everyone should go to. ItÂ’s guaranteed to be a real old-fashioned hootenanny.

I am Hobot, cyber-whore, Pick me up from hi-tech store. I know that I can never understand Why a woman has to bleed And a manÂ’s slave to his need. My circuit board is wired for your command. 
IÂ’m not cursed with libido, IÂ’ve been trained to not say no. Reality is only in the mind. There canÂ’t be an embryo, With no seed to root and grow. A fantasy is only what you find. 

Most people remember Lynn Swann as the graceful, Hall-of-Fame wide receiver for the Pittsburgh Steelers during their glory days of the 1970s. Needless to say, heÂ’s a rather popular guy in Pennsylvania. Like other retired athletes, heÂ’s attempting to capitalize on his popularity by entering politics. More specifically, Swann, a Republican, is seeking to become the first black governor of the Keystone State by portraying himself as a political outsider.