The current scare in the world aside from terrorism, a broken economy, the decline of family values, the rise of the Boston Red Sox and the suspect popularity of the Jonas Brothers (I’m not convinced they haven’t prepared a sacrifice to some dark god for their success) is the widespread epidemic of the swine flu worldwide, with cases stretching from deep within Mexico to the US and today even as far as Spain.

But how could a simple virus couldn’t just pop up overnight without some malevolent force to aid it? I’ve dug deep to the roots of this nefarious cabal that would dare destroy every American’s right to become a bloated fat ass stuffing his face with the other white meat, tracing it to three major sources:

1) Porky Pig and the Quaker from Quaker Oats – Porky is obvious. Tired of seeing his brothers and sisters sent off to the slaughter, he formed a pact with the Quaker in order to retake breakfast. How else could oatmeal possibly compete with bacon? Somewhere right now in America, eggs are being scrambled with no salted meat to accompany them. And for that, I weep.

2) Arbor day – Hear me out on this. When was Arbor day this year? April 24th, the Friday before the epidemic became widespread. What major holiday comes right after? Cinco de Mayo. And where is it celebrated? Mexico, where the epidemic has struck hardest so far! Clearly, Greenpeace has thrown down the gauntlet, tired of people skipping Arbor Day just to look forward to getting boldly trashed for Cinco de Mayo (because we all REALLY fuckin’ love our Mexican Independence day here in America). Truly, revenge and guacamole are both dishes best served cold.

3) Roger Daltry – How could an aging rock star reestablish himself in a new century? By plastering the name of his greatest commercial success all over the news. Americans could easily confuse the classic British rock band with the WHO (Worldwide Health Organization). Daltry is the Lex Luthor here in this Legion of Doom that would dare cut to the very heart of us.

Our only real chance is to build a tolerance to the flu. But how? Easy – eat as much bacon as humanly possible. I’m sure many of you have been hard at work on this already. Putting bacon in breakfast sandwiches and on top of burgers and salads is a good start, but we need to really turn it up. Turbaconducken, bacon choco-cookies, even just a nice pork chop wrapped in bacon, are all the panacea to what ails us. Clearly, Atkins was a prescient man forseeing this doom from long ago, like some dietary Obi-wan. The pork was strong in this one.

Just remember: Should you fail, your slutty grandmother will give it to all her friends. Don’t believe me? Watch this PSA from the 70’s.

Kutcher has enough followers to be a Demi-god.

Recently, Ashton Kutcher punk’d CNN, pulling off a feat Fox News has been hoping to accomplish for years, by beating the network in a race to net 1 million fans on Twitter. His victorious message to the masses: I just made Wolf Blitzer my bitch! LMAO!! Here are some ways his cockiness following the win is coming through:

Filming the long-awaited sequel, “Dude, Where’s My Private Plane?” (Tagline: When stoners strike it rich, they fly high!)

The latest Nikon camera he endorses digitally inserts him into all the photos the user takes.

Will ask Julianne Moore to join his newly formed Moore concubine. Also invited: Roger Moore (hey, when in Iowa…) and Michael Moore (because he’ll need someone to film the orgies).

Has told Bruce Willis what he really thinks of “Live Free or Die Hard.”

Bought the rights to cartoon character Tweety Bird, championing his tweeting supremacy (Yes we can-ary).

Hired pro hoopster and look-alike Kyle Korver to play in pickup games of basketball for him.

Obama retaliated by hiring Kid ‘n Play for a White House Party

Last week we were treated to dozens of protests across the U.S. over Obama’s tax plan, naturally celebrated on April 15, aka Tax Day (I know my Thursday morning hangover was kickin’ like Bruce Lee on steroids). Being perennially clever, conservative-minded Americans threw a Tea Party protest, because nothing says you should listen to us more than a bunch of assholes without jobs standing in the rain holding up sad attempts at mid-90’s pop culture references and littering Earl Grey. I suppose the philosophy is “If I’m too poor to eat, they can’t tax me and I can earn welfare”. The homeless have all the luck!

Of course, if I was leading a protest, I’d probably take it in several different ways to really drive the point home:

Historical reference – If you’re throwing a Boston Tea Party remake, stop being a bitch and go all the way by instituting mandatory pantaloons Fridays. Bosses must wear powdered wigs. No, Rush Limbaugh may not re-institute slavery “for the authentic Jefferson reenactment”

90’s rock – Or you could take in the complete opposite direction – wear nothing but delicately placed socks a la the Red Hot Chili Peppers demonstrating how Obama is “giving it away now”. Ok, I admit it. I’ve got a man crush on McCain and I need to see me some wrinkled old man. Damn you for starting this addiction Lemon Party (SFW)!

The ninja crowd – With the Pirate Bay suffering a critical blow in court and America kicking Somalian pirate ass (woo! USA mother fuckers!), the swashbuckler and salty sea dog popularity has waned significantly. Have a Dread Pirate Roberts (costumed by conservative John G. Roberts of the Supreme Court) in your protest symbolizing the President’s “theft” of your hard earned money. Or you could swing it the other way, have a bunch of ninjas beating up on Long John Silver (or the pirate of your liking). Either way, you’re going to need a lot of black. Ask your goth sons and daughters for tips.

The Eco-nuts – No one wants to save green more than damn dirty hippie liberals, right? Make outrageous claims like “Obama burns tax dollars to burn down the Amazon” or “tax laws are legally required to be written with baby seal tears”. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have to be true. Most environment friendly people are too busy with smug self-satisfaction or next week’s crisis-to-be to do any serious fact checking.

The “Looking for an excuse” – Let’s be honest. Anyone who is at this protest had nothing better to do that day anyway. That’s about 25% of the U.S., except they’re too lazy to get out of the house. So give them a reason. Crazy break dancing strippers? Giant ranch dressing hose? Perhaps an elaborate goblet a la Lil’ John. Any and all of these are perfectly valid with the proper analogy/metaphor. You know, bullshit. “We’re representing the wasteful spending of the Democats.” Bam, done. You just earned a reason to throw a bitchin’ kegger, courtesy of the GOP. Those tea bags, costumes, posters, etc. are costing you money, at least put it to good use. We’re all screwed anyway. Maybe I just want to see a thousand republicans yelling at Congress “Show us your cans, Pelosi!”. A man can dream.

Putting the ‘Penn’ in 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., Barack Obama has hired Indian-American actor Kal Penn as a public liason. As if there wasn’t enough star power at that address already. Here are some other ways that the President has gone Hollywood.

All mirrors on the premises now reflect only his own image.

Penn is mightier: The TV doc takes House calls.

Hired a celebrity candy consultant to pick out all the non-green M&M’s, boxer “Sugar” Shane Mosley (it’s a sweet job).

Plans to give the Oval Office many more corners, turning it into the Octagonal Office.

Renamed his cabinet the “Presidential Posse.”

Will give all future press conferences and interviews wearing designer sunglasses, Kim Jong-il style.

Chicago Cubs home games will be played on the back lawn of the White House.

Will personally distribute bailouts to auto makers by going to CEOs offices and throwing money into the air, thus showing he’s the man with the power to “make it rain.”

Intends to bully and belittle Canada by calling it “Cold America,” while referring to Mexico as ”Hot America.”

Is forcing his new puppy to join the Church of Scientology.

Has ordered impressionist Fred Armisen to stand in for him at the ”really boring” summits (who wants to be at a NATO meeting when they could be napping?).

Is working on an album of Obama-related covers, tentatively titled, “Barack Around the Clock.” Confirmed songs include ”Barack You Like a Hurricane” and “Barack the Casbah.”

Employing a team of astronomers, headed by omnipresent Neil deGrasse Tyson, to test the theory that the Earth actually revolves around him and not the Sun.

Some days we question what we do. We contemplate deeply on our existence upon this earth. Why are we here? What is man meant to do? Then we see no talent ass clowns like this guy on youtube and feel better about ourselves. We may be be poorer than him, but…we have no way of finishing this sentence. Anyway, this dude sucks.

In every group of dudes, you’ve got a general collective of well-wishers, ne’ever-do-wells, chums, bums, partners in crime and accomplices to what-have-you in tomfoolery. Usually you can break these hooligans down into some familiar classifications:

1) Wall Street friend – Smooth talking friend who goads you into doing stupid stuff, on rare occasion for your own benefit. Also manages to know cool places to hit and brings in groups of girls you might never be around. Downside: will wear pink shirts and/or suits. Takes his pants off in the bar. Yells out “FREEBIRD!” after every song at concerts. Upside: somehow this works on hot girls and will strike up conversations with chicks way outside your league.
Trademarks: tribal tattoo, popped collar, backwards upside sunglasses on at night. Orders 11 shots at a time, one for him and 10 for the “table of lovely ladies who look way too thirsty”. May end up covered in 9 of those shots (there’s always one drunk girl who won’t turn it down)

2) Drunken daredevil – after 4 or 5 drinks, takes bets on bar stunts. Starts off small like racing to finish Irish car bombs first, but progresses to “I bet I could steal the bouncer’s wallet” or “I’m going to spin kick that old lady in the head”. Should come with bail money. Handy in a fight.
Trademarks: torn shirt and black eye the next day. Knows the officers at the local precinct on a first name basis. Usually scares away other drunks at bars (or keeps occupied) but may scare away ladies along with. Fights hallucinatory leprechauns who want their gold back.

‘Cause everyone group needs
a group bitch

3) The group bitch – useful for ripping on/throwing whiskey bottles at when bored, tends to sit back and smile. Will get pissed off every 3-6 months, then realize he has nothing better to do so comes back. The “Milhouse” of the group.
Trademarks: The face of a man whose soul is shattered from years of fetching beers, losing his favorite seat, and having to “bite the bullet” by taking the ugly friend of a group of otherwise hot girls. On the plus side, often designated driver, parents usually own a summer house, will do as told, is happy to have some attention from ugly friend.

4) The straight man – usually the one who sits back and watches as the circus of the drunken evening falls, somewhat like how the Highlanders (wall street, drunken daredevils) may clash in epic battles, he fills the role of Watchers. Good for an occasional smart ass remark. Bad for doing anything exciting or interacting with women, but lots of beer helps.
Trademarks: quietly sips beer while hot girls say “aren’t you sweet” and then throw up on his lap. Hence, rarely gets laid. Has the card for a good lawyer in his wallet when daredevil friend turns into “that guy just looked at me wrong” friend

5) Shotgun friend – Called the shotgun friend because he will hit on everyone single lady you see, no matter height, weight, number of teeth or STDs. Also known as the spray and pray friend. At the highest of highs, will nail girls you didn’t think was possible. At the lowest of lows, will nail girls you didn’t think was possible. Fueled by booze and testosterone. Awesome stories. Horrific stories. Also knows the best places to pick up ladies and the closest alley to do it in.
Trademarks: Will sell you out for a piece of tail faster than you can say “what’s this stain on the back seat of my car?”.

6) The Depressant – Everything in life has come to a halt after the sudden break up of his girlfriend…a year and a half ago. This friend could trip on a million dollar lottery ticket and curse his luck for stubbing his toe. Won’t steal your hot girlfriend, but likely depress you all the same.
Trademark: Almost guaranteed to have a livejournal of emo poetry. Will carry a picture of his old girlfriend, make drunken calls to her at 2am. May turn into angry drunken friend after.

Have you ever read a shitty blog post…on WEED?

7) Stoner friend – Everything is better when stoned. Like Jon Stewart in Half Baked, if you can’t do it stoned, it shouldn’t be done. Lazy as all fuck, but usually knows some good music and is good for chilling on a post-hangover Sunday afternoon. Will surprise you at random knowledge he knows and baffle you with basic human understanding he doesn’t.
Trademarks: Incoherent sentences at 10am. Oddly coherent at 1am. Will never do anything useful on purpose. Fairly distinct from the group bitch.

8) Hipster friend – Unmistakable in clothes picked up from the Salvation army (sometimes Urban Outfitters, if they’re hipster posers). Knows the latest indie bands, will hate them 10 minutes later when heard on the jukebox of your favorite bar. Whatever beer is on tap is piss water compared to the import served at his bar in the East Village doing 3 weeks after the fall equinox.
Trademark: A bowler hat and tie must be worn at all times. Jeans your 12 year old sister couldn’t fit in. The sneer of a man who knows more than you about music. Probably does, but fuck him anyway.