The Onion Presents
Page 4
“ ‘Don’t worry, if I ever had a dream where you and I were … you know, like that, I’d keep it to myself. Not that it has happened. Because it hasn’t. Because if it had, I’d tell you now, obviously.’ ”
You have not spoken to Pagano since he coincidentally ran into you in the parking garage after work, but sources report he is expected to “make it up to you” tomorrow at lunch, when he drives across town and purchases you a cookie from your favorite bakery.
NEWS IN BRIEF
Last Great Party Of Life To Result In First Child
LAKE CHARLES, LA—Unbeknownst to him, 27-year-old Ron DuPree attended the last great party of his life Saturday, as a 3 a.m. coupling with girlfriend Tamara Harris will result in a child nine months from now. “That was the best party ever,” DuPree said to friends on Monday, oblivious to the seed of life now growing in his soon-to-be-wife’s womb. “I was so wasted! God, Tamara and I have to start getting out on the weekends again.” In addition to enjoying his last great party, DuPree will also soon bid farewell to liquor, cigarettes, and most of his current friendships.
NEWS IN BRIEF
Casual Sex Surprisingly Formal
DAYTONA BEACH, FL—After several hours of drunken Spring Break revelry Monday, Ron Viselic, 19, and Becky Pell, 18, returned to Pell’s motel room for surprisingly formal casual sex. “We were laughing and doing body shots at the bar, but when we got back to my room, things turned all businesslike,” Pell said. “He kept asking me if it was okay to take off each piece of clothing, then he wouldn’t do anything but missionary.” Following the methodical, strangely businesslike intercourse, Viselic and Pell spent five minutes “spooning” before Viselic dressed and left.
NEWS
Ex-Girlfriend Don’t Want To Speak To You No More, New European Boyfriend Reports
LANCASTER, PA—According to the latest information provided by the unnamed, impossibly debonair-sounding European man who is now answering all of her calls, your ex-girlfriend, Rebecca Norsten, “don’t want to speak to you no more.”
The olive-skinned baron.
The new policy of non-communication, not elaborated upon by Norsten herself, was announced during a phone call to her apartment early Monday morning in the suave, confident tones of an Italian or possibly Portuguese individual of indeterminate height and muscle tone. Phone records indicate the statement was made at 9:35 a.m.—approximately one hour and 25 minutes too early for the speaker to have been a platonic visitor who did not spend all last night giving the love of your life everything you never could.
“Rebecca is no coming to the phone, my friend,” reported the exotic-sounding stranger, who rolled his R’s in a manner that strongly suggested he can outperform you sexually. “I am condolence for you, but what is to be done? There are many fishes, yes?”
“ ‘Rebecca is no coming to the phone, my friend,’ reported the exotic-sounding stranger, who rolled his R’s in a manner that strongly suggested he can outperform you sexually.”
The probable Mediterranean sex god concluded the statement by saying “ciao,” after which it can be assumed he returned to his previous task of hand-feeding your ex-girlfriend slices of juicy mango while she reclined naked in a hammock, finally free from the burden of dating you.
Although no answers have been provided to your flabbergasted stutterings following the announcement, 17 hours of careful overanalysis did uncover several new, emasculating details from within the one-and-a-half-minute conversation. It is now believed that the olive-skinned baron and multiple-vineyard owner who relayed the message is currently living with and possibly married to the woman you once tried to impress by wearing a belt.
You have also been able to deduce, without the aid of visual confirmation, that Norsten’s new European boyfriend was dressed in flowing white linen pants and rustic kidskin loafers, and is, at this very moment, slowly consuming a perfectly ripened orange.
“It must be really hard for her to talk so soon after we broke up,” you have repeatedly told yourself to drown out images of the black-haired Adonis laying your ex-girlfriend upon a bed of imported silk cushions, removing a string of freshly killed quails from around his broad shoulders, and riding your beloved Becky like she was the last boat to America. “I’m sure this guy, whoever he is, is just a one-time thing. She’ll probably explain everything next time we talk.”
The announcement that communication would cease immediately came as a shock to everyone whom Norsten had previously promised to “love forever and ever.” The 24-year-old Notre Dame graduate was your girlfriend from November 2007 to May 2008, and in that time made no mention of plans to visit Europe and had no European friends or coworkers. Upon closer recollection, however, it has been noted that Norsten once watched the entirety of Once Upon A Time In Mexico with you, more than twice commenting on actor Antonio Banderas’ “sexy accent.”
“It is now believed that the olive-skinned baron and multiple-vineyard owner who relayed the message is currently living with and possibly married to the woman you once tried to impress by wearing a belt.”
As of press time, it is unclear how you could have been so foolish.
STATSHOT
NEWS
Date Disasterously Bypasses Physical Intimacy, Goes Straight To Emotional Intimacy
CHAPEL HILL, NC—An initially promising date between University of North Carolina seniors Mike Rafelson and Jill Zehme veered disastrously off course Monday night, when the two skipped directly to intense emotional bonding, tragically bypassing the physical intimacy that usually precedes it.
“It’s not what you think—unfortunately,” Rafelson told his roommates Tuesday morning after they watched him send Zehme off with a long, tight goodbye hug and an affectionate kiss on the forehead. “The date was going great—I could feel us getting closer and closer all night. I was totally psyched when she came home with me. But somehow I screwed up, and we ended up sharing our most personal thoughts and feelings without even making out first.”
Zehme and Rafelson share a close moment.
Rafelson said he and Zehme met two weeks ago at Raleigh’s Schoolkids Records, where they spent 20 minutes wandering past each other while pretending to look at vintage LPs, self-consciously brushing bangs back from their foreheads, and stealing glances at each other over the display racks.
Rafelson said he “finally made a move” and asked Zehme about the album she was holding, Talking Heads: 77. In the 20-minute discussion that followed, Zehme not only told Rafelson how important the album had been to her during a troubling time in her adolescence, but that she worked at a local coffeehouse.
“As he and Zehme continued to talk, they spoke more passionately, their faces got closer together, and they began to stare intently into each other’s eyes.”
“She went out of her way to describe the location of the Buzz Café and the hours she usually works,” Rafelson said. “I was, like, ‘Yeah! This is it, man—she totally likes me and I’m gonna get some action.’ Unfortunately, I was only half right—and it was the wrong half.”
After he “happened to swing by” Buzz Café, Rafelson asked Zehme if she would like to see his friend’s band, Chat!, thus launching the pair’s ill-fated journey to non-physical intimacy.
“When I picked her up, she looked really hot,” Rafelson said. “After the show, we went to get some pizza, and our feet were touching under the table the whole time we ate. We talked for a long time about the trouble she was having finishing up her major, and I could totally relate. Everything seemed to be progressing so nicely. Well, I didn’t know it at the time, but the feet thing was the closest physical contact we were going to share.”
At 12:30 a.m., as the couple walked to Rafelson’s place, their conversation grew more personal. Rafelson talked about his last girlfriend, and Zehme discussed her financial problems. At his door, Rafelson said his roommates would not be home until later, and to his delight, Zehme agreed to come inside. Rafelson opened a bottle of wine, and the two sat talking a
nd drinking in the living room for an hour before relocating to the bedroom.
The bedroom, Zehme later told friends, is where she and Rafelson “started to open up about just everything.”
“From the moment I laid eyes on Mike, he seemed like the kind of guy I could really get close to,” Zehme said. “He had such a sincere way about him—a face I could totally trust.”
“Two and a half hours later, the couple was firmly in the area that couples therapist Gus French described as ‘that awful horse latitude of male-female relations, the Sargasso Sea of non-sexual pair-bonding known to unhappy males the world over as ‘the friend zone.’ ”
Rafelson said it seemed that, given the circumstances, some form of sexual bonding was assured. As he and Zehme continued to talk, they spoke more passionately, their faces got closer together, and they began to stare intently into each other’s eyes.
“The intimacy in the room had worked its way to a fever pitch,” Rafelson said. “But before I realized what was happening, disaster struck.”
Instead of stroking her date’s thigh or taking off her shirt, Zehme began to tell Rafelson things she’d “never told anyone outside of [her] closest confidants.”
“I told Mike all my innermost feelings about my parents’ traumatic divorce, my brother’s drug problem, and my best friend’s attempted suicide,” Zehme said. “He was so sweet—he took my hand and told me to let it all out. And I did. I just let it all go. I was totally uninhibited that night. I’ve never been like that with anyone before.”
Two and a half hours later, the couple was firmly in the area that couples therapist Gus French described as “that awful horse latitude of male-female relations, the Sargasso Sea of non-sexual pair-bonding known to unhappy males the world over as ‘the friend zone.’ ”
“My heart really goes out to this poor kid,” French said. “We’ve all been there, thinking, ‘Gee, this is really special that you’re opening up to me about your childhood, but I’ve got to admit I’d rather be going down on you right now.’ Unfortunately, once the emotional barrier has been crossed, there’s no going back. By allowing the conversation to swerve into serious-talking territory before physical contact was established, Rafelson virtually guaranteed that he would not get into Zehme’s pants.”
Rafelson corroborated French’s prediction.
“Jill said our date was one of the most special nights of her life,” Rafelson said. “We talked long into the night until we fell asleep side by side—fully dressed. In the morning, before leaving, she gave me a huge, sincere, and utterly asexual hug—exactly the kind of hug someone would give her brother.”
NEWS IN BRIEF
New Girlfriend Bears Disturbing Resemblance To Old Girlfriend
ATLANTA—Friends of David Buntrock told reporters Monday that his new girlfriend Katie Wickstrom looks unsettlingly similar to his former girlfriend Tonya Gill. “When I first saw them together I thought, ‘Wow, did David and Tonya work things out?’ ” friend Angie Lisota said, explaining that both Wickstrom and Gill are petite, with cropped brown hair, big eyes, and a penchant for dressing like ballet dancers. “Even her voice sounds a little nasally, like Tonya’s.” According to Buntrock, Wickstrom “actually looks more like Audrey Hepburn.”
NEWS
Nike Introduces New Intercourse Shoe
BEAVERTON, OR—In yet another first for the world’s premier athletic footwear manufacturer, Nike announced Tuesday the nationwide launch of the Air Fornicator, a lightweight copulating shoe designed to maximize sexual performance.
The newly released Air Fornicators promise better traction during coitus.
“Nike is proud to continue its commitment to new and innovative products with the first ever sneaker developed exclusively for sex,” president and CEO Mark Parker said. “Stylishly sculpted and contoured for enhanced comfort, the feather-light Air Fornicator provides superior energy return to reduce fatigue and boost the libido.”
“With this shoe you will last longer, experience more pleasure, and fuck smarter,” Parker added.
According to a Nike press release, the Air Fornicator’s cutting-edge support system creates maximum foot stability, which in turn improves coital alignment, increases clitoral stimulation, and deepens penetration. The revolutionary midsole component reportedly works to adapt to the user’s pelvic motions and cushions the overall shock of repetitive grinding.
Retailing for $175, the Air Fornicator will be available in high-tops and low-tops and in a variety of passion-inducing color schemes.
Senior Nike footwear designer Barry Hudson said the shoe’s outer sole was constructed from a durable carbonized rubber to improve grip, enhance traction, and prevent slipping on a variety of surfaces, including carpeting, concrete, wallpaper, hardwood, and silk. In addition, Hudson claimed that the rounded CliMax-brand air heel facilitates more efficient thrusting and lustful pounding.
“The shoe’s outer sole was constructed from a durbable carbonized rubber to improve grip, enhance traction, and prevent slipping on a variety of surfaces, including carpeting, concrete, wallpaper, hardwood, and silk.”
“We made dozens of adjustments to the tread pattern to ensure balance, as well as proper support for arched backs,” Hudson said. “And the soles were designed to minimize sliding around in bodily fluids. You can make love standing up in a puddle of massage oil and you won’t fall down.”
Nike’s research department performed thousands of trials on the Air Fornicator over a 16-month period, including a number of stamina tests and other off-site experiments intended to gauge the intercourse shoe’s robustness. Engineers, who observed couples in a variety of sexual positions, found several cases in which the Air Fornicator suddenly flew loose during intense coitus, a problem they remedied by tightening the lacing pattern and adding a Velcro strap for security.
A nationwide marketing campaign for the copulation sneaker will debut this Friday with a 60-second television ad scheduled to air on all major networks. The ad, shot in black-and-white and accompanied by the Led Zepellin song “Whole Lotta Love,” features a montage of several slow-motion scenes. These include a shot of a sweat-covered man pleasuring his wife, who reaches climax seconds later, shattering their bed’s headboard; a high-angled pan of a woman rolling her wheelchair up a steep hill while making love to her partner; and finally, a close-up of an Olympic runner, who bends over to lace up his Air Fornicators, before the camera pulls back to reveal his teammate approaching from behind with a strap-on dildo.
Sales for the new shoe are expected to be strong.
“My wife enjoys it when I make love to her, but I usually wind up feeling tired and sore,” focus group volunteer Michael Nelson said. “Since getting the Air Fornicators, though, I’ve been giving it to her all the time. It hardly even feels like fucking anymore.”
While Nike marketers found that consumers responded favorably to the product’s claim of helping them “get into the erogenous zone,” a small percentage were still not convinced.
“I’m not going to spend $175 on an intercourse shoe when I only have sex like once a month at most,” Dallas native Erica Graham said. “They would probably just sit in the closet and gather dust.”
Nike design engineers subjected the Air Fornicators to a battery of erotic tests on multiple surfaces.
NEWS IN PHOTOS
4-Year-Old’s Idea Of Barbie, Ken Marriage Involves Lots Of Head Collisions
NEWS
Supportive Gay Friend To Counsel American People On Ways Of Romance
WASHINGTON, DC—Reeling from countless relationships gone awry, blind dates from hell, and one-night stands that were about one night too long, the American people received help Monday in the form of tart-tongued but shrewdly perceptive gay friend Garrett Blaine.
Sassy, supportive gay man Garrett Blaine vows to be there for the American people.
At a White House Rose Garden ceremony, President Bush named Blaine, 30, U.S. Romance Counselor-General. Charged with dispensing no-
nonsense relationship advice to more than 250 million Americans, as well as providing citizens with a shoulder to cry on, Blaine will summon every ounce of his energetic, outgoing personality and gift for outrageous one-liners.
“All Americans—not just stylish urbanites—should have access to a sassy, supportive gay sidekick with whom they can share their romantic trials and tribulations,” Bush said. “It is as basic a right as a good education or complete medical coverage.”
Blaine, who when not attending to wounded veterans of the dating wars works at the Racy Stamen Floral Boutique & Oxygen Bar in Los Angeles, attempted to explain his knack for helping heterosexuals with their love woes.
“A lot of people ask me, how does a gay man know so much about solving straight people’s romantic problems?” Blaine said. “Honey, if I knew the answer to that, I’d be God. And I know I’m not God, because I’m not black or female! Well, not black and only about a quarter female.”
Continued Blaine: “I can always tell when something’s wrong with the U.S. populace when they come into my shop. Their posture’s drooping, or they avert their eyes, or they tell me they love my new turquoise polka-dotted shoes. Oh, boy! That’s when I know something’s wrong. So I roll up my sleeves, brew up a big pot of java, haul the cheesecake out of the fridge, and say, ‘Okay, American people, this is Garrett you’re talking to here. What’s eating you? And don’t say ‘a Brazilian cabana boy,’ because I won’t believe you.”
“ ‘Honey, if I knew the answer to that, I’d be God. And I know I’m not God, because I’m not black or female! Well, not black and only about a quarter female.’ ”