Beaming across the Western Russian airwaves, from our station in Agalatovo, you’re listening to Russia’s most boring radio station! All buzz, all the time, UVB-76: THE BUZZER!
“All Buzz, All the Time!”
MoronicArts Exclusive Alert: New Presidential Craptocoin?
A wee lil birdie told us that Ancient Jackass-tro-nut theorists have rumored that their sister’s friend Biff told them that the US Mint has unleashed a brand new Craptocoin featuring recent Golden Moron Award winner, the 47th President of the United States!
“Come and get your commemorative Craptocoins, mined the old-fashioned way! One side will feature his bigly buttcrack, the other will be adorned by a tiny mushroom surrounded by a bunch of bent carrots. Celebrate my birthday month in style with these wonderful works o ‘fart!”
— Bernadette Moran Cacca, portapotty empress, narcadoodle and swamp witch
Want to buy one?
Neither do we.
Don’t be an April Fool!
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Bernadette Cacca Gets Yeeted
“Here I sit all broken-hearted, tried to crap but only farted,” a forlorn Bernadette “Bern” Cacca sings on her porcelain throne, practicing kazoo and accordion. She lights a fart, burns her doodoo in the fireplace, then makes a call to a Northwestern Illinois bar on her smell phone.
“Poopy’s.”
“Hi, my name is Bernadette Cacca. I’m a famous singer near Chicago.”
The bartender giggles.
“I have a wonderful offer to make your bar.”
“May…I take your order?”
“I would like to open a Poopy’s here in Manteno.”
“I thought you were from Chicago!”
The bartender continues to giggle as he hangs up on Bern.
To increase her bottom line of attention, money and bootlickers, communal narc-a-doodle Bernadette offers to sing and play her accordion cover songs at a charity event to raise money for the victims of the Russian war against Ukraine. She dreams about all the praise, awards and photo opportunities she can gain from making it look like she cares. She does not raise money for this or any other cause because she feels concerned about the efforts of living beings trying to stay alive, fighting or fleeing a psychopath trying to take over their beautiful country. She just loves to pretend.
Bern heads home from a long day working her and her husbands’ business Peppi’s Portapotties, excited to burn the porta-poopies in her fireplace, only to be interrupted by a phone call.
“Hi, Bernadette…ummm…Cake-Uh?”
“Cacca.”
“Yeah, I am calling about your gig at the Gaslight Bar tomorrow night.”
“Oh hiiii! I am THRILLED about playing this extraordinary gig at 7:00 tomorrow night.”
“Good. We are calling to tell you about a slight time change. Due to staffing shortages, we need to move your gig back an hour.”
“I am a pillar of the community and a national treasure! Your tone is not appropriate for someone doing business. I would get used to people like me.”
“So are you coming or not? We have other guests who want to play and help—“
“Okay, okay, see you tomorrow. Don’t forget it!”
Bern teams up with local cybercrook Pat Splatt to develop her pretend money Craptocoin. The bum-waste-bin overlord thinks it is cute to sell Craptocoin at the charity event and decides she will solicit tips using her funny money.
“Hello Manteno! Thank you all for coming! Let’s raise some money! Gimme your requests! CraptoCoin only, my handle is @BMCacca! Maybe you already doing it, and that’s awesome!
ALSO, a shout-out to my extraordinary hairdresser @lilacroule from Croule, Young and Lovely who keep me lookin’ good! AND, my makeup by fabulous @marigoldyoung! So much love to their salon. Practices are things done more than one time regularly, and I have been practicing hard for tonight’s fundraiser! That’s why I call them practices!”
“And…without further ado, give it up for the Manteno Wonder herself, Mrs. Bernadette Cacca!”
A slow clap is heard, mixed in with hoots and hollers from Bern’s obsessed fanboys.
After finishing her last accordion cover tune for the first half of her set, “My Fart Goes Boom”, Bern runs to the washroom, humming “Let’s all go to the restroom” as she poops and farts.
Mrs. Cacca emerges, approached by a Chicago television reporter.
“Hi Bern. I would like to interview you. We got a press release—“
“Not now, after.”
“I have other stories to cover. Let’s do this now.”
“The show must go on.”
“I am from Ukraine and have family there.”
“Fair enough, let’s do this interview up on stage. We will both look awesome up there!” Bernadette gushes.
The Chicago TV reporter enters stage right, Bernadette stage left. Reporter Elena Emm stops to remember her questions so she can begin her interview.
An impatient Bernadette sighs loudly, whistles and hums.
“Why are you staring off into space? Are you in a fantasy world?” Bern snarks, snickers, thinking only Elena can hear her.
“I am blind,” the reporter advises the oblivious Bernadette, unaware a camera operator is filming the entire interview.
“Here let me touch your face,” the ableist and ignorant Bern belittles the Chicago TV news reporter, reaching for her face.
Elena knocks Bernadette unconscious with a single blow to her piehole, then proceeds to yeet her into the crowd of bootlickers.
“This show is getting entertaining” Gothic Diana Ross says to her bandmates, The Midnight Supremes, who are waiting in the wings.
“I may be visually impaired, but I’m not stupid” Elena Emm says to the crowd who had poured in to find out where their entertainer Bernadette had gone, only to have that communal narcadoodle chucked right into a pile of them, knocking the fanboys over like a set of bowling pins. Strike!
Happy she got a scoop on the poop-mistress extraordinaire, Elena and the news team head back to Chicago to produce their segment for the next morning’s newscast.
“Next up, give a hand for these lovely ladies, Gothic Diana Ross and the Midnight Supremes!” announces the emcee, who had called the Manteno girl group last minute to replace their annoying neighbor Bern Cacca on the bill.
“You look so good on the outside”
— Cold Cave
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Area 51’s New Fartfire Missile Tests Sure Are Lit
“This is like something straight outta Hell!” Scientists react to a computer simulation animating captured neckbeard narcadoodle Damien Hurlbutt’s farts lit afire, targeting and destroying enemy aircraft like never seen before, in one of the USA’s many unnecessary wars.
“Damien, we just might finally get you out outta here!”
“Whohohumhuhwhatwhat?”
“This new technology will save American taxpayers a lot of money! We’ll just put Damien on every destroyer…”
“Uh-I can only be in one place at a time.”
“One destroyer at a time, then ready, aim, fartfire! Master-blast all our foes with your nasty fire-farts lit ablaze, from the world’s largest source of natural gas! We’ll destroy every single one of the enemy craft, even those darned UAPs we couldn’t even hit before! Butt, first, you need to wear one of these before we can begin to put your gas-blasts into production:
“Try and exceed 200 stinkers daily! Now back to your cell, Hurlbutt!”
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Something fishy…
Bog witch Bernadette Moran Cacca drags her mother, shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture Carla to her hangout spot for some grub, hoping to treat her to a break from all that carrion.
Of course, the old bird finds a way to ruffle feathers:
“This fish is too fishy. Tell the waiter to bring me another one.”
“I’ll ask for a steak then…well done.”
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New CRASS Computers are a real ENIGMA
Sybil Kibble unveils the new “Enigma” computers for her debt collection team at Credit Recovery Associates in Kankakee, known better by their acronym CRASS.
“How do you get on the Internet?” asks a quizzical Dale Davis.
“Just type “INTERNET” and then “RUN.”
“How do you load the Collect-o-matic 2000?” a wary Judy Avelli asks.
“Just hook the machine up to a parakeet cage and type away.”
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How to Avenge Scammers and Telemarketers (Updated Version)
Try these on bill collectors, too!
(From my 2002 listicle which went viral)
– Ask them if they’ve got beer.
– Start speaking in tongues.
– Tell them that person doesn’t live there anymore. Give them the number of an adult service and tell them that it is their new number.
– Tell them that you’re not there right now.
– Ask them if they accept coupons.
– Start selling them something else.
– If someone calls soliciting donations, tell them you’re poor and ask for money instead.
– Start preaching your religion to them.
– Pretend you’re a recording and say “The number you have reached is not in service. Please check the number and dial again, or talk to your operator for assistance. Recording A4.” Extra points for imitating the 3 rising tones at the beginning.
– Try to hypnotise the caller.
– Play a recording of a busy signal.
– Put on some really annoying music and put your phone up to the stereo.
– Ask the caller if they are single. Then try hitting on them. Be sure to mention your various medical problems, your fascination with odd smells and your shrine to the Lawrence Welk Show.
– Use a voice changer to disguise your voice.
– Rap all your replies to the caller’s questions.
– Ask the caller if they mind if you talk to them on the toilet. Then take a plastic Heinz ketchup bottle and squeeze out ketchup repeatedly. (If you’ve ever used this kind of ketchup, you’ll know what kind of sound this makes!!!!!)
– Speak in ragga chant.
– Try to rhyme with everything the caller says.
– Tell the caller that the person they are trying to reach is a victim of black magic and was turned into a poodle.
– Tell the caller that the person they are trying to reach has passed away, and that you’re the ghost of them.
– Sell them on the “value of high colonics”. Explain your “dedication to good health” in your most convincing, passionate voice.
See where this listicle was referenced by Kirk Cameron and his buddy Ray Comfort!
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Special Announcement
The creator of fictional stories about cartoony people living in Kankakee County would like to express their concern for the real life people who survived the tornadoes there.
If you’re reading this from KaCo please let me know if you’re okay.
Thank you first responders and weather crews who helped out the residents hit by the destruction left in the wake of the twisters.
Sincerely, this former Illinoisan.
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Chicken, nest egg, feather.
Shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture Carla Moran calls her equally narcissistic daughter Bernadette, reads off names of colors, asking Bern to buy her some paint.
“So not Buttercream, not eggshell, but a few cans of the one in the middle.”
“Can you get me a swatch? You know, that strip with all the squares in the different shades you want?”
“I’m not looking for Cubism.”
“You want me to paint your entire house and buy the paint, with no paint chips? Yeah…no Ma.”
“Come home. I need you to come home.”
“I am home.”
“Come home, Bernadette. Live with me for awhile to save some money.”
“I have my own home to paint.”
Bernadette hangs up her smell phone. Her favorite G.G. Allin ringtone plays 20 seconds later. Bernadette rejects the call, butt of course!
“DON’T. YOU. HANG. UP. ON. ME. AGAIN. I’m trying to help you Bernadette, but YOU’RE not letting me help you,” gaslighter extraordinaire Carla projects onto her only daughter’s voicemail, meanwhile Bernie is busy ignoring her mother, dropping a deuce in her washroom and practicing her butt-trumpet solo.
Bernadette heads down to bog she inhabits to take a dip and spend time with her creepy dolls. After freshening up, she drives to the Manteno Cantina to hang out with her fan club, The Poopy Groupies. Bernie tinkles on the pot for a bit and then the ivories for an impromptu poop-up concert, only slightly less annoying than the pop-up ads spamming all over Kankakee County about her bar…erm…THE bar.
Poopy Groupie president, KaCo resident Wally Green videotapes the entire concert from beginning to end, gives a standing ovation along one with other patron, Pat Splatt.
“Hey there hottie! Gimme a kiss!” Pat Splatt catcalls Bernadette. The married entramanure hugs Pat in a deep embrace and the two briefly make out.
“I’d like to take you for a ride.”
Pat, Bernadette and Wally drive down to Carbondale in Bernadette’s poopmobile to learn what Artificial Idiocracy (AI) can do for them at a conference.
After discovering how much money he can make by using AI instead of hiring actual people to work for his Pantherware company, Pat invents a new AI program along with Bernadette’s input dumps.
Bernadette finishes mining some fresh Newly Formed Turds (N.F.Ts) in Pat’s washroom while Pat compiles his new CrapApp.
“You’re naming the new program after me, right honey?”
“No, Bernie, I’m naming it Ozzy.”
“I want you to name it after me! I made the cover of the Manteno Sentinel more than you! I care so much about this community and my friends! Did you see all the money I helped raise for—”
“Ozzy just died. Don’t you have any respect for the dead?“
“Wow, what incredible advice. What are you not understanding about what I’m saying?”
“You sound like the type of person who, during a tornado warning would go off looking for friends and family. Instead of, you know, following directions. It baffles me that Karens like you think the whole world should cater to them.”
“Yeah, you have absolutely no clue. Good luck with that.”
Pat ends up naming the program Pat-GPT and uses it to generate a 15 minute Deepfake of Bernadette cursing out her fans and mooning them, sourcing Wally Green’s footage. The video goes viral, angering the bog witch enough to seek narcissistic supply elsewhere.
Carla is busy preening when she receives a surprise guest.
“Hey ma, I made something for you.”
“Well I can’t accept this.”
“I made it just for you because I’m your biggest fan!”
“Well now I’m your biggest fan ever since Aunt Sonya flew the coop. What is it?”
“AIR MAIL!” Bernadette exclaims with giggles as she flies the paper airplane at her mother.
“It looks just like you!”
“Talk to the wing!”
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Things These Morons LiveLaughLove.
“Dog bones, water, washrooms”
– Sybil Kibble, Bill Collector, Kankakee
”Life, death and everything in-between”
– Gothic Diana Ross, Singer and Vet Tech, Manteno
”Showers, fedoras and food that’s not corn…preferably cheeseburgers and fries…M’lady.“
– Damien Hurlbutt, Area 51 test subject (Formerly of Bourbonnais and Champaign
”Elvis records, blue suede shoes and fine women!”
– Robbie Hurlbutt, singer and pharmacy clerk, Kankakee
“Poop, poop and more poop”
– Bernadette M. Cacca, entramanure, Manteno
Crapstraps, Turd Machines and Mr. Plopsy Canes. I should know, I invented them myself!”
– Wally Green, Pharmacy chain owner, Bradley (Formerly of Deerfield)
MoronicArts 
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