Under the pitch black veil of an evening of ghosts and goblins cavorting on an eternal twilight came thieves in the night who heartlessly snatched away the very video we speak of today. A tragedy, yes, to be sure, but we will not stop the presses. We are Americans, damn it! We are the world! There is no exceptionalism here, we are far too good for that. Isn’t that the truth? Isn’t it? Nevermind.
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HONORED FIRST GUEST OF CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR’S OPINION SECTION WILL BE SCOTT UTLEY, EXECUTIVE PRODUCER AT PLANETLOBSTER HOLLYWOOD ENTERTAINMENT & CEO @ THE NUCLEARMIND GLOBAL INITIATIVE – A NOT FOR PROFIT CABAL OF SEXUALLY ACTIVE RABBLE ROUSING PINKO COMMUNISTS OUT TO CONQUER THE WORLD: Dear friends, thank you for having me. Have me anytime you wish. I am your devoted servant. I only exist to pleasure you. But I digress. Pepsico took the video advertisement of their popular pop soda, Mountain Dew, off the airwaves; the world wide web & the cartoon network suddenly without warning sometime during the bewitching hour just yesterday eve.  Like thieves in the night, they lived up to their reputation as criminal perverts and deviant sex offenders who brazenly flaunt without shame to the moon their blank faced, excremental, petrol glazed eyes. Once again, these sub-humanoids offended the paint on the walls with their unmistakably barfable odour; the smell of soulless spiny street urchins, unlucky refugees of a dead lonely planet.
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The sudden disappearance of the KKK’s most beloved ad campaign was halted not because Pepsico was instantaneously vilified worldwide and ferociously attacked by moralist thugs hired by Coca Cola, but because the goat in this masterpiece of shitola had been previously contracted to another company which sells the same lye-based, arsenic laced soda pop. Deeming this a breach in the goat’s contract by lawyers for PETA, Pepsico balked at what they initially claimed was the silliest notion to go viral  since the accusation that Tom Cruz was straight. Pepsico adamantly insisted that the world was lacking a sense of humor. Reluctantly, under pressure from the Boogie Man, Pepsico put down their crack pipe and sniffed a bottle of amyl nitrate before consulting their Weegie board.
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At one point during this midnight obsession, the original Dr Pepper (the succumable David Naughton) was overheard swinging and singing from the rafters at no one person in particular, “Pepsi, you rabid racists, be a pepper! I’m a pepper, he’s a pepper, she’s a pepper, they’re a pepper, wouldn’t you like to be a pepper, too? Be a pepper, drink Dr. Pepper”.
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To reiterate for your nimble memory, during a flash orgy it was discovered by a pet Rock visiting the Pepsico brothel for the weekend that the goat in this masterpiece of shitola had been previously contracted to another company which sells the same lye based, arsenic laced soda pop. Deeming this a breach in the goat’s contract by lawyers from PETA, (people for the ethical treatment of animals), Pepsico, as we previously stated, was hesitant at first to even recognize a problem all the while simultaneously, vehemently insisting that the world was lacking a sense of humor, admitted collusion through an intermediary, a Ms. Deepthroat. She/he boldly and brazenly stated at one point, “Yes, this may be a snafu, something our intern did, the guy with the itty bitty tiny erect penis, Mr. G. Bush.”  That spurious accusation fell flat on deaf and dumb ears. Everyone knows G. Bush is not capable of any erection *tiny or otherwise, whether benign or maligned. Hysterical, uncontrollable, unstoppable laughter erupted from the peanut gallery as this flatulent lie was uttered to Oprah Winfrey in a exclusive O TV interview with Special Assistant to the Head of Pepsico, a drooling, incoherent Senator Marco Rubio, from somewhere far south of the Mason-Dixon line, even further, perhaps as far south as Havana, Cuba, where he should stay.
*It is reputed by some experts in the burgeoning field of study of microscopic ding dongs that we are speaking of 2 to 3 centimeters at the very most in G. Bush’s case.
To make a long story short, and wrap up this polemic extraordinaire, I state mmountain dew 3y conclusion for your consideration: Pepsico finally put down their crack pipe on day 6 of that binge and sniffed yet another bottle of AMSTERDAM brand amyl nitrate and drank another before consulting their Weegie board once again. And once again, receiving more bad advice from a particularly awnry spirit of the Cocoa people, several executives actually suffocated on their own vomit when the Weegie board suddenly decided to mete out justice itself and mischievously played a game of Simon Says on the participating executives, leading them into bizarre, silly,  provocative & twisted yet familiar figurines, essentially forcing them to perform autofellatio  leading them to a just and suitable ‘death by bile’ and other assorted body fluids.
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To reiterate, initially Pepsico resisted any change to their formula for success, accusing the goat of bad faith. It should be noted here that this particular evening was the annual rising of Satan’s moon, where all Pepsico executives do as they always have, drink an overdose of GHB, which resulted in the predictable G hole. Only two executives were unable to be resuscitated. The rest survive brilliantly but with even less IQ then they started out with. That does not bode well for Pepsico or the wealth of major stockholders who reside mostly at Riker’s Island.
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In a flurry of covert activity of uncertain origin, the goat was sacrificed on the altar of the gold plated prophet Moroni under suspicious circumstances. Authorities for the Mormon Church suspect untamed youth just having fun, and consider this an isolated incident without connection to the goat’s role in Pepsico’s advertising tragic de jour horrible. Furthermore, Salt  Lake City stated that even though the gold plates Joseph Smith said he found in 1820 have yet to be presented to the public, there is no crime in witchcraft or worshipping false prophets. They further stated, that although this has nothing whatsoever to do with Pepsico, underage mail order brides and goat sacrifices are in no way indicative of a debauched incestuous lifestyle church elders suspiciously denounce frequently and with an unwholesome obsession even as they have sex with chickens. Thank you, I rest my case. Scott Utley, LA, CA, US of A, Saturday, May 4, 2013. 1:00AM, Hollywood City.
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SECOND GUEST OF CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR’S NEWSPAPER OPINION SECTION WILL BE MITT ROMNEY PROVIDING REBUTTAL  A couple of things here. I wonder why? I wonder why a lot of things. Racists? That is a mighty harsh accusation to throw at a multinational drain cleaning organization. Chickens? Why not pigs, or barn owls? And for Christ’s sake, why is the Church of Latter Day Saints involved in this article anyway? Is the writer grinding an ax? Are Mormons really responsible for earthquakes? Who knows? And why crack? Why not glue? Why not sniff glue instead? These are good questions. I think the ad company, a fly by night advertising firm out of the Cayman Islands, a place dear to my heart, was on a collective high along with every executive of Pepsico when this campaign was given the green light. Crack can make your vision do strange things, believe me, I know, and maybe this ad campaign really got a red light but it just looked like a green light due to sleep deprivation? Hey, it could happen. The question remains. Crack? Glue? Ethyl Chloride? Poppers? Is it safe to drink and drive naked? Should I not text at the same time?  Should I tell my mistress and my wife about my boyfriend  Father O’Connor? Most importantly, the American public has the right to know why the US Congress passes the buck for their drugs and hookers onto taxpayers who are the ones really getting date raped and screwed. And finally, what, what, what drug were they on? How do I get some? I rest my case. Yours Truly, Pepsico Chairman & Closeted Child Molester & Twerk Perv Senator Mitt Romney, Failed US of A Presidential Candidate & Mormon Church Elder, Honorary CEO of Ambiguous Sexuality & Fondler of Barn Animals, President of the local Salt Lake City Men Who Love Boys Social Club as well as Founding Father of The Sex With Dead Animals Cable TV Show & Part Time Satan Worshiper. 


  1. I will not say what I am thinking. I am too genteel and full of shit. Have a nice day.


  2. Hey, Ted, will you give me a hand and blow my tiny dick while i watch soccer moms vote for child care?


  3. Hehehaha you smoke man u dope u yolo on a yoyo you make me laugh so hard my dick fall off – u b 2 funny 4 words – u on Saturday night live? u know John Belushi? Funny dude u r hahahahahahaha.


  4. Pardon me, I was told this was an underage sex club for nubile albino nymphs. Have I come to the right place? I sure to hope so. My poker has the rots ana I need a good scappling. Give me the heads up, won’t you?


  5. Howdy, well, hello there John, you slut! Put a child in a sling and you can count on Senator John Boehner being first in line. I gotta give ya credit, you party pork pig. I accidently fell in here on my way to the glory hole I like the most. The one in the republican bathroom over on Capital hill next to Senator WhatTheFuckHisName? Oh, look. A camera. CNN? After Dark? The Advocate. The Child Molestes Daily? Fine, just fine. Take a shot from my good angle. That would be my head in a jar of pickled cow manure. Do you know who I am? Rafael Edward “Ted” Cruz. I am the junior United States Senator for the state of Texas since 2013, that would be 2013. I is a member of the Republican Party. I Solicitate General of Texas from 2003 to May 2008, after being appointed by Texas Attorney General Greg Abbott. I be the first Hispanic Solicitor General in Texas, the youngest Solicitor General in the United States, and the Solicitor General with the longest tenure in Texas history. I is also the first Hispanic to be elected U.S. Senator from Texas


    • THIS IS NOT meant to be funny, you jerk! What is wrong with you? We here at the Christian Science Monitor take our jobs very seriously when we aren’t dressed up in drag flouting our privates at innocent children during the Easter Parade. Get a life, Mr Abby Normal, whoever the hell you are!


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