Are you on the front line battling Putin? Do you have a neighbor who just grinds your gears? Did Bernadette Cacca stink up your store’s washroom again? Get on people’s nerves using this handy playlist!
Tag: weird humour
MoronicArts Bores a Scammer with Gothic Diana Ross, Portapotties and Siberia
“Mary” from Delhi, India called from a spoofed New York number to ask nosey medical questions.
MoronicArts wasted this scammer’s time boring her about Gothic Diana Ross, Peppi’s Portopotties and Norilsk, Russia so she cannot use that time to try and rip off other people.
Get a real job, “Mary.”
Sybil Kibble Gets Lost
Kankakee bill collector and dog-food connoisseur Sybil Kibble gets lost in a book, taking her mind off the day-to-day horrors working at CRASS.
She Walked Into a Bar…(A MoronicArts Classic)
Linda walked into a Kankakee bar to get a drink, not knowing all the single men would take notice. Who will she choose?
Pharmacy clerk, vulnerable narcissist and Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt?
Cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narc-a-doodle Damien Hurlbutt?
Wacky inventor, drugstore owner and sadist Wally Green?
CRASS Bill collector, and desperate hillbilly Dale Davis?
So many bottom-feeders, so little time.
“Dating is like shooting a bunch of arrows and missing the target every time.”
– Linda Stay
It’s a NULL from me.
Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Chief of Information Technology, Fernando T. Perez, wants drive to the office here in Kankakee and show off his new vanity plate. Sadly, he shows up late to his job managing the Enigma Machines attached to birdcages. Find out why in this video:
Wally Green’s Music Machine
Have you been wanting to create a pop tune but are too lazy to write music? Are you the type of person who goes for quantity over quality? Wally Green has the machine for you!
Pop music producers have been using it for awhile, but this is the first time they’re admitting it. Wally’s Music Machine is a tabletop electronic device, made by by Kankakee pharmacy owner, wacky inventor and wannabe ladies’ man Wally Green:
It randomly generates pop songs at the push of a button using Wally’s patented AI (Automated Insipidness). Try it!
Hear what Wally’s customers have to say:
“It’s as easy as pressing 1-2-3,” says a record producer for one of the Big 5 record labels, speaking on condition of anonymity. “Just power the device on, press ‘start’ and out comes a song.”
You can even create remixes using the device. “Just pop in a CD and it does all the work for you.” he adds. You can even add effects, using plug-ins like the overused Antares Auto-Tune, and built-in preset to crank it up higher than needed on purpose.
The record producer states that, because of it is so easy to use, producers of Top 40 pop songs use it. “You don’t have to be a nuclear physicist to run it; you don’t need have graduated 6th grade to make a pop song. It changed my life. Now I pay my girlfriend to wipe my bum for me..”
This reason, explains an executive for the RI Double A, is why so much pop music sounds alike.
“I may live all by myself in my ginormous mansion in Beverly Hills, surrounded by sacks of cash and a fridge fulla caviar. I may go for weekly high colonics. If the stations play these songs enough, kids will like it…no matter how terrible it is. If we can minimize the amount of time spent producing a record, we can increase our profits exponentially. That’s all we want, that’s all the label wants. Who cares about art or paying the artist? Cha-ching.”
Buy your Music Machine at a Wally Green’s on a corner near you. Or not.
Bern 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.
“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 narcissist 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 photo opportunities she can gain from her virtue signaling. She does not care 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.
“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
Sybil Kibble Folds.
During a blackjack game at the basement apartment to which Kankakee bill collector Sybil Kibble rents to her elderly mother JoAnn, Sybil ponders how she is going to eat her dog chow dinner, get the laundry done and still wake up in time to go call up random strangers asking them for money they probably do not even owe.
Sybil had an ace and a 10.
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