Grolsch Arranges Historic “Vowel Movement” Into Beer

11 06 2008

AMSTERDAM: After nearly four centuries of proud vowelessness, the executives of Grolsch have finally reached a consensus and decided to have a long-overdue vowel movement into the title of their beer. The company was originally opened in 1615 on the IJJklmnhm River by a pair of burghers, Jhn and Frnk, whom local villagers considered mad (their first abortive effort, a solar mill, closed after one week).

The Grolsch Family Solar Mill was soon converted…after the discovery of wind

Within a few years, however, patrons could be found lining up outside their small distillery, quaffing pints of the consonant-rich brew…the rest, as they say, is history.

The Grolsch Family’s failure to communicate was legendary. Simple tasks, as depicted in this painting “The Cupboard Watch,” could become daunting, all-day events.

Jhn Jcb Grolsch, the last living descendant of the family, reluctantly agreed on Monday to accept the overwhelming pressure of his fellow stockholders: “It pains me greatly,” he said, “and it pains my family greatly, too, since none of us, for three hundred years, has have ever had a vowel movement. Imagine my relief, when I finally heard the word ‘Groolsch.’ A great weight had been released from me and washed gently down the drain.”





Brit Hume Urges Fans To Hate the Game, Not The Playa

11 06 2008

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Hume, veteran playa, drops game face for skeezas, skanks, and hos

Brit Hume, Managing Editor of the Fox News Channel, has always met the challenges of anchoring Fox News with rugged, manly aplomb. His blunt style and monosyllabic, guttural responses strike a chord with viewers who simply don’t have the time to parse complex ideas.

Moreover, Brit’s smooveness as a playa has become legendary: freakin’ on the weekends with Daughters of the Revolution, pounding Courvoisier and Geritol, hosting all-night bocce ball tournaments…

“If you’re gonna hate the playa,” Mr. Hume assures his rabid fan base, “you might as well hate the bowl he cuts his hair with. You may as well hate his 401K. You may as well hate the three servings of fiber in his diet.” At this point, Hume lifts himself up out of his stroller and brandishes a nine iron with a Lands-End Burberry sleeve over his head: “And if you going to hate the three servings of fiber in his diet, then, hell, b**tches, you better off hatin’ the game.”