West Quincy locals chased out of Kincaid Park by mysterious group of super sexy dudes

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

A group of West Quincy kids were chased out of Kincaid Park earlier this afternoon by several "super sexy dudes," authorities are reporting.

Sporting pre-faded cargo shorts and not much else, the unidentified group of males advanced upon the neighborhood youths with football in hand, ready and willing to battle it out in feats of strength and heroic acts of showmanship.

"It was like Omaha Beach," one witness said. "But so much sexier."

While no one was able to determine exactly where the group of men had come from, all agreed that their physique was quite impressive, even by Quincy standards.

"I ran as fast as I could," admitted Kenny Manlon, who has lived in the Brewer's Corner area his entire life. "I wasn't scared, or nothin' like that. I ain't scared of no one. But I ain't lettin' no group of shirtless dudes run up on me and start grabbing me. No fucking way. Not while people are watching, at least."

Authorities are currently asking anyone who knows the whereabouts of these visually appealing miscreants to please call them as soon as possible.

Local man turns heads with brave new business venture, redefines lemonade stand

Article by Beak Wilder and Heather Wilder / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

Charlton Chu moved here from China in the summer of 1969, during the height of the Vietnam War, before anyone in Quincy had ever seen an Asian up close.

An aspiring entrepreneur from the "wanton side of the tracks," Chu quickly set out to make a life for himself in the land of liberty.

However, after years of eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in alleyways, Chu began to feel cheated, believing the American Dream to be nothing more than a lie.

Then, in the summer of 1982, after Reaganomics had paved way for one of the largest economic boosts Quincy had seen since the days of the Granite Railway, Chu opened his lemonade stand on the corner of Beale Street and Prospect Avenue.

But the glory days of Mr. Chu's Lemonade Stand did not last forever.

Mr. Chu's Lemonade Stand was a thriving business at first, but the addition of Minute Maid Light Lemonade at the Wendy's on Newport Avenue nearly devastated his business, as Chu, a simple Asian man, found himself unable to compete with the low prices of such a large corporation.

Refusing to give up his philosophy of only using the finest Meyer lemons, Chu eventually found himself nearing the brink of poverty, as the rise in Chinese import tax, combined with the economic recession at home, became too much to bear.

But then, after several hours of deliberation, Chu got an idea.

Chu, who had always been referred to as the "Cajun Asian" back in his fraternity days at Yale, mainly due to his love for Louisiana spices, decided that where his little lemonade stand once stood, he would build an empire.

And as history has taught us, every empire starts with a dream.

"Why only lemonade?" Chu bumbled, as he struggled with the English language like a drunk autistic kid on ketamine. "Why not Zatarain's rice?"

For years, Chu worked on this new business plan and presented it to local investors, most of them flat-out refusing to have any part of what they described as the "idea of a child," claiming it could "never work in a million years."

But Chu never even blinked an eye to these comments, party because he had faith in his newfound venture, but mostly because he has absolutely no eyelids.

Using money he had saved and inspiration from Brian Dennehy's haunting portrayal as Kublai Khan, the Emperor of China, in 2007's TV mini-series, Marco Polo, Chu moved forward with his idea, opening his rice stand on the very same corner.


Brian Dennehy as Kublai Khan, the Emperor of China, in 2007's Marco Polo.

It was your typical tale of a victorious underdog as dozens of residents lined up for piping hot bowls of Zatarain's New Orleans Style Dirty Rice.

"A bowl of rice really hits the spot on a day like today," spoke neighborhood watchman Dean Shaddick, as his Triple Fat Goose kept him protected from the harsh, bitter chill of an unusually cold April afternoon. "I don't know what he's gonna do when the weather gets warm, though. Might wanna think about maybe selling lemonade again, who knows?"

Mr. Chu's Zatarain's New Orleans Style Dirty Rice Stand will be open for business seven days a week on the corner of Beale Street and Prospect Avenue, where friends and family expect Chu to lose everything before the August Moon.

Wollaston home deemed "too awkward looking" by neighbors, ordered to be knocked down by city

Article by Beak Wilder and Brunk Edwards / Photo courtesy of a cell phone in Wollaston

A Wollaston home has been ordered to be knocked down by city officials due to multiple complaints and at least sixteen car accidents over the past month.

The Sachem Street property, which was designed by Salvador Dali's nephew, Raymond "Ray Ray" Dali, sometime in the early 1970s, has long since been considered a public eyesore in the otherwise aesthetically pleasing neighborhood.

Neal James, a lifelong resident of the area, expressed ambivalence over the appearance of the home, although changed his point of view almost immediately.

"If they don't knock that house down, I'll fucking kill myself," James said.

It was later revealed that James suffers from dissociative personality disorder, a mentally crippling personality disorder defined as a prolonged disturbance of personality function, characterized by depth and variability of moods.

But while some residents were firm in their opinions, others were not.

"I'm not saying it's a good looking house, but who are these city officials that want it knocked down?" asked resident John Clamato. "If you ask me, the place looks like a fucking optical illusion, but I don't wanna go ahead and say it's okay to force someone to destroy their own home. This is kind of a gray area."

Nathan Chimay, a certified real estate agent with an uncertified bachelor’s degree in aerodynamics, argued viciously with the idea of demolishing the home.

“Buildings like this are absolutely necessary,” growled Chimay. “How else are you going to give directions to people regarding this street? If they knock this place down, how are you going to find your own home when stumbling home drunk at four o'clock in the morning? There is no way. A guy like me needs to be able to tell cab drivers to drop me off two houses down from that ugly-as-shit building, right?”

Chimay, who had just minutes before illegally changed his name from Gallivan Toothpaste, continued speaking loudly on the subject, but was largely ignored as a colorful parrot landed on a nearby mailbox, reminding neighborhood residents of their childhoods spent eating Fruit Loops and writing run-on sentences.

Local woman accuses maniac cat of sexual assault

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

A local woman has accused area feline, Charles del Guapo, of sexual assault, claiming he made several unwanted advances on her at a fundraiser being held this past weekend at the Sons of Italy Hall on Quarry Street.

This is not the first time del Guapo has been accused of such an act.

In 2001, del Guapo was detained by airport security at TF Green, after a fellow passenger accused him of giving her a number of awkward glances.

In 2004, del Guapo was pulled over by Massachusetts State Police, where he was found with a group of underage girls and several open containers of beer.

And in 2006, del Guapo was fired without compensation from his part-time job at Hollywood Video in Whitman for repeatedly spraying Binaca in his mouth while maintaining a perpetual stare at all women who passed.

While del Guapo has declined to comment on these latest allegations, friends and family claim that he vehemently denies all charges against him.

"Charles is an innocent cat," claimed neighbor, Walter Lou Sunset.

Sunset then went on to explain numerous reasons why del Guapo could not commit such a crime, none of which would ever hold up in a court of law.

While authorities sift through the rubble of accusations set forth against the offbeat feline, detectives are asking anyone who knows the password to del Guapo's impenetrable Hotmail account to please come forward.

Hoping to find something to link del Guapo to these illegal and illicit acts, authorities have stated that they believe his password to be a series of letters, numbers, or a complicated mix of the two, most likely having some sort of personal meaning.

"As of now, it looks like he could walk," remarked Officer Nico Haylen. "It just seems like, no matter what you throw at him, nothing sticks. This cat is slippery smooth."

Mayor proposes $12.5 million budget deficit, expects drops in state aid and local receipts

Article by Beak Wilder / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

Does City Hall really need a Bose speaker system installed in every room? Why don't we charge for the methadone program? Is there anything we can do about dickheads who use Ecstasy and OxyContin to fuck our teenage daughters?

It was these questions, among many others, that Mayor Thomas Koch fielded from residents yesterday evening in his first of several financial outlook meetings.

As the City of Presidents enters what some are describing as a "grim budget season," Mayor Koch has promised to hold meetings to help residents understand where he is so carelessly dumping city money.

After taking his time to outline a financial picture that could mean a $12.5 million budget deficit next year, Koch then took a short break to host a no-holds-barred macaroni and cheese eating contest in which he was the only participant.

"I am the winner!" Koch screamed, as city residents stared in disbelief.

The meeting also served as the first public interaction with residents for Koch's chief financial officer, Nicholas Puleo, a sad looking sack of shit with nothing to prove.

"Where the fuck do you have to go to take a shit around here?" asked Puleo, who seemed unaware of how sensitive the Fore River Clubhouse's microphones were.


Nicholas Puleo, who has most likely never seen a vagina up close.

Puleo then refused to answer any further questions on city budget, although expressed hope that these problems would "one day work themselves out."

Preparing city residents for an expected drop in state aid and local receipts, Koch painted the picture of a man who was out of ideas, often fumbling through his pre-written speech, which appeared to be nothing more than a shortened version of Bill Pullman's triumphant speech in the 1996 box office smash, Independence Day.

"Today we celebrate our Independence Day," Koch falsely declared.

Koch then went on to describe a number of childish ideas he had been contemplating over the past few months, ranging from purchasing a United States dollar printing press to building a "crazy robotic dinosaur with laser beams for eyes that is able to predict and prevent a financial crisis before it even happens."

While city officials cannot say for sure how much a robotic dinosaur of this sort would cost, experts say that it would be somewhere in the billions.

Germantown yard sale proves too intense for most, raided by federal agents

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of a cell phone in Adams Shore

A Germantown yard sale was raided by federal agents this weekend, who retrieved thousands in stolen goods, ranging from DVD players to Adidas shell toes.

Germantown, which has a long history of disorganized crime, has been a hot spot for stolen goods and illegal activity since the late 1960s, often being referred to as the largest amateur criminal enterprise since the Patriarca crime family.

Confiscating truck loads of unopened electronic equipment and sports apparel, as well as several hundred vials of an unidentified substance, which were sent out to be tested and analysed at the FBI Laboratory in Quantico, authorities are already hailing this as one of the largest scale busts in the South Shore area.

The yard sale took place on Germantown's infamous Taffrail Road.

Arresting lifelong Taffrail Road resident Sean "Launcha" McCracken, along with his two recently paroled cousins, both of Revere, federal agents were able to piece together the events of the day, using a series of trick questions and the drunken testimony of McCracken's neighborhood rivals.

McCracken was charged with grand larceny and possession of stolen goods with intent to distribute. He was later charged with possession of a ridiculous substance, as forensic experts in Quantico were able to determine the contents of the confiscated vials to be "Taff and Taff Half and Half," a homemade Germantown favorite, which is comprised of equal parts OxyContin and Bud Light Lime.

As of now, the only known location where it is legal to sell the "Taff and Taff Half and Half" is on the corner of Taffrail Road and Taffrail Road.


Wicked shitty photo of the corner of Taffrail and Taffrail.

"My attorney will have me home before my Tombstone pizza even gets cold," McCracken declared, as FBI agents gracefully dribbled his skull against the side of their unmarked cruiser before finally tossing him into the backseat. "Remember me, G-Town. And never forget the amazing deals I have offered you today."

Local homicide detectives baffled in mysterious case of non-murdered man

Article by Brunk Edwards / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

Quincy homicide detectives remained baffled yesterday in the case of a local man whose status remained “non-murdered.”

Chief forensic analyst Russell J. Calorie issued a public statement regarding the man, currently known only as “John Doe” and previously codenamed “Moron Santiago,” as officials keep his identity hidden from the public.

“Yep, the guy is definitely alive,” sighed Calorie. “I don’t get it. He appears to be in stable condition.”

Calorie, who was transferred to Quincy’s homicide division from the cast of television's NCIS, after catching the eye of Mayor Thomas Koch, then spent several minutes fumbling with the press conference’s microphone, resulting in a mind-numbing amount of speaker feedback.

Regaining composure, Calorie added that, “We’re doing all we can to monitor the situation. If anyone has any hot leads, please call our tip line at 617-447-7106.”

Calorie, showing up to work with a pilot’s outfit on again.

Quincy Medical Center was reported to have been put on high alert for an indeterminate period of time as crime lab technicians frantically work to connect the dots between this incident and others that have occurred throughout the city.

A recent rash of “non-burglaries” in Squantum, North Quincy, and Merrymount, where unknown persons were entering stores, taking things off the shelves and leaving amounts of money with cashiers have been reported. All cashiers in the targeted stores have been fired and detained by authorities for questioning.

Wanses Boursipuot, a horse of a different feather from parts unknown, expressed dismay upon hearing of these events.

“Things have changed,” remarked Boursipuot. “I used to have faith that you were either murdered or not-murdered, alive or dead. Now, in today’s fast paced world of microwaves and remote controlled boats, I can’t even pick up the morning paper without hearing about some news. It’s a Goddamn shame. It makes you want to just throw it all away. But don’t do it. Remember one thing: never give up.”

Mr. Boursipuot was then immediately arrested for having an unpronounceable last name. He is expected to be sentenced to death by suffocation at 2:00pm tomorrow in the Southern Artery Wendy’s bathroom.

Nathan's Famous New York franks now available at Granite City's largest drug haven

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

The taste of Coney Island's famous hot dogs can now be found at the Quincy Center train station, where residents can sit down and enjoy the taste of Nathan's Famous while the city's beloved homeless community awkwardly stares.

The new restaurant, which was opened by the Patel family this January, is the former home to Donut 'N' Donuts, Quincy most controversial doughnut shop.

"The train station is a very busy area," said Manny Patel, one of the owners of the Nathan's stand. "And people love that delicious New York taste."

New York, which was made famous after thousands of it's residents were running around screaming as the charred remnants of the World Trade Center fell to the ground, also has a history of making quality hot dogs.

"I think it's awesome that Nathan's Famous has come to Quincy," said Roberta Spring, of North Quincy. "Before they set up shop at the train station, the only piece of authentic New York meat I had ever experienced was the time I blew Freddy Madball in the bathroom of Darcy's Pub."

Randy Quaid skips town after racking up thousands in unpaid bills, local businesses seeing red

Article by Brunk Edwards / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

Hollywood wingnut, Randy Quaid, brother of the far more talented and significantly more attractive Dennis Quaid, and famous for once completely dissolving a live pelican in a vat of simmering oil, has fled Quincy, leaving behind thousands in unpaid bills and infuriating local business owners.

Quaid, who was briefly residing in the City of Presidents while his legal troubles in California were heating up, has a history of credit fraud and spousal abuse. He is currently wanted for a string of unpaid hotel bills throughout the Southwest.

It is believed that Quaid is using his “rustic charm,” coupled with a box of free promotional "Independence Day" t-shirts, to win favor with adoring fans before running up large bills and walking out on them.

“This is unbelievable,” remarked Wario Van Gundy, owner and proprietor of Van Gundy’s Motel and Satellite Dish Repair. “He racked up at least $7,000 in satellite dish repairs and stolen hotel towels. I’m going to have to close the old place down now.”

Pinch Churkey, a lifelong Quincy resident and owner of Churkey’s Edible Cellphones, told reporters that Quaid had placed an order for 12 turkey sandwich 3G-capable phones that were never picked up. “Can’t sell them to anyone else,” bellowed Churkey. "The meat is already going bad.”

Consistently reminding investigators that he had the "heart of a lion” and the “memory of an elephant," Churkey then coughed violently for five minutes before dramatically collapsing on the floor in a pool of his own filth

Quaid, moments before casually slipping out the backdoor of Dress Barn in a stolen fur coat.

Department of Celebrity Unpaid Tabs (DCUT) coordinator Swerve Griffin announced that Mr. Quaid’s bills, including parking tickets and a Dee Dee’s Lounge bar tab from 2001, is fast approaching the $50,000 dollar mark.

“Get that guy outta here!” laughed Griffin in a completely inappropriate manner.

Griffin then paused unexpectedly, as the realization that he had given Quaid his debit card number, expiration date, social security number and ATM pin number gripped his soul like a ice-cold vice.

“Oh, dear God, no...my kids’ college fund," whispered a shell-shocked Griffin.

Swerve Griffin, immediately after realizing his colossal mistake.

Mayor Thomas Koch was unable to respond to the incident as a dispute with staff over boneless chicken at the Wollaston KFC raged on endlessly.

Randy Quaid was unavailable for comment as his room at the Presidents' City Inn had a “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging ominously from it’s door.

Breaching whale blamed for fatal canoe capsizing in Cape Cod, accused of hate crime by local gays

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

Homosexuals everywhere are enraged by the death of John LeTheefe, who died yesterday morning after his canoe capsized off the coast of Provincetown due to an apparently malicious breaching whale, reports say.

According to authorities, LeTheefe had been boating off Long Point at the outside of Provincetown Harbor with his partner, Michael D'Joker, when the incident occurred.

Both men were said to be longtime fans of The Smiths.

Michael D'Joker is currently being held at the Brigham and Transgender Men's Hospital in Provincetown, where he is being treated for several deep blue bruises.

A spokesman for the US Coast Guard confirmed that they received word that a breaching whale may have caused the canoe to overturn, although stated that dolphins, not whales, were in the vicinity of the canoe around the time of the accident. These discrepancies, combined with the fact that he is obviously hiding something, have caused authorities to begin questioning D'Joker's flimsy account of what actually happened on that otherwise insignificant day.

"Our boat was tipped over by a whale," D'Joker repeatedly told reporters.

But Assistant Harbormaster Luis Ribas, who participated in the rescue, confirmed that it was dolphins that were swimming near the canoe, claiming that expert sonar equipment shows no signs of whales being in that area at all.

"I don't care what the sonar equipment shows," remarked a visibly shaken D'Joker. "All I know is that a fucking whale killed my life partner."

Describing in detail his account of the events, D'Joker told the story of a whale out for vengeance, who, after circling their canoe for over an hour, attacked them in a fit of rage, knocking LeTheefe's body "almost a hundred miles into the air," where it then came crashing down upon the water "with the force of sixteen mako sharks."

"There must be some kind of way out of here," said D'Joker to LeTheefe.

But it was too late, as LeTheefe's drowning body was already pinned underneath the wreckage of their rented canoe, where it was later found by local rescuers.

"This entire incident, as well as the manner in which it was handled, is an outrage," declared Phil Miassup, an outspoken queer from the disgusting section of North Quincy. "If this was a movie, and it was a shark instead of a whale, and John LeTheefe was a heterosexual, people would hunt this thing down and destroy it. Do you see what I mean about being treated unfairly? If every single aspect of this situation was completely altered, it would have been handled so much differently. But, until America is willing to accept us for who we are, mammals of all shapes and sizes, whether by land or sea, will be allowed to act out against us as they please. Good morning, America. Consider this your wake up call."

For more information on this breaking story, keep watching the news.

HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY, QUINCY SCALLION!

Short-lived Iranian riot grrrl scene results in massive amount of beheadings, new city resident

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

A short-lived Iranian riot grrrl scene has ended with a massive amount of public beheadings in the capital city of Tehran, causing many women to flee to America.

Closest to home is Afsaneh "Cannibal" Shakiba, lead vocalist of renowned Iranian riot grrrl band, Hijab Kill, who arrived in Quincy this morning by way of the Red Line.

Recalling tales of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's horrific reign as president, as well as his brutal hold on the Iranian music scene, Shakiba spoke about her brief time in Hijab Kill, stating that, while it may have only lasted for sixteen days, the impact of her band alone was well worth the 300+ deaths that were incurred as a result.

"In my country, there is no music that is considered proper," Shakiba said. "Whether it be Peaches, Lady Gaga, or even Mama Cass, all female musicians are considered to be whores. The men in my country, they have no respect for women. Where I come from, they blame women for earthquakes."

Hijab Kill was best-known for their surprise hit, "The Anti-Pleasure Islamic Nation."

Upon hearing her story, Mayor Thomas Koch agreed to house Shakiba in a two-bedroom apartment in Quincy Point, which, according to the 2010 Quincy Census, has a large, growing population of Middle Eastern residents.

Hundreds of onlookers watched as Shakiba and her hired movers lugged box after box of her extensive record collection into her brand new 3rd story apartment.

"He who dares!" Mayor Koch yelled, as residents huddled together to watch.

Shakiba will be given the opportunity to reside at her new apartment in Quincy Point until next April, at which point she will be given another opportunity to continue living there at no cost. Expert financial analysts have stated that, while allowing Shakiba to live rent-free may not be in the city's best interests, there are worse areas they could be putting taxpayer money into, such as cocaine trafficking, amateur pornography, and Patriots Super Bowl XLV shirts.

Still no leads in tireless search for crazy Pitbull, police on lookout for brunette in Toyota Corolla

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of a cell phone on Wollaston Beach

Quincy Police are at a standstill in their search for a black Pitbull that has been accused of biting the face off of local old-timer, Alf Nelson's, Belgian Sheepdog.

The incident occurred in the early morning hours on Saturday, while Mr. Nelson was walking Peppy, his former prize-winning show dog, on Quincy Shore Drive, at which point he claims a mid-nineties Toyota Corolla pulled up and opened it's passenger side front door, unleashing a black Pitbull, who proceeded to maul his dog's face until he was able to finally fight it off using his abnormally large collection of keychains.

According to the National Database of Former Prize-Winning Dogs (NDboFP-WD), Peppy was the 1993 gold medal winner of the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show.

Witnesses described absolute chaos as Mr. Nelson's dog was nearly torn to shreds.

"It was like a scene out of Jaws," remarked Carlton Snapley, an out-of-work day laborer who was still up from the night before. "I hadn't seen that much blood since my last divorce. All I know is this: at the beginning of that fight, both dogs had faces. But, by the end of that fight, only one had a face. And that's just the plain and simple truth of it all, and there's nothing anybody can ever do to change that."

Though all who bore witness to the gruesome scene agreed that the owner of the Pitbull was a Caucasian female with brown hair in her late forties, some disagreed about the color of her getaway vehicle.

While some say that her mid-nineties Toyota Corolla was tan, others say golden.

Quincy Police are currently offering a firm handshake, as well as three buckets filled with respect, to anyone who provides information leading to the capture and execution of the Pitbull in question, although have stated on multiple occasions that a reward of monetary value is "not in the foreseeable future."

"This attack is no different than the dozens of others that occur every decade in this city," said Officer Nico Haylen. "These dogs have had it too good for far too long."

Authorities are asking anyone who sees a brunette female in her late forties and/or a mid-nineties Toyota Corolla to please contact them immediately at 617-479-1212.

City residents lash out as ridiculous hack job is revealed to be exactly what it seems

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of Fratelli's Bakery and Quincy City Hall

City Hall is under tight public scrutiny again, this time for using even more taxpayer money to fund ridiculous bullshit, such as the Department of Weights and Measures.

The Department of Weights and Measures, which the official website of the Office of Consumer Affairs & Business Regulation claims "enforces laws, rules, and regulations relating to weights and measures and the use of weighing and measuring devices in commercial transactions," has long since been the dirty little secret of city government, remaining almost entirely unknown until today.

When asked for a clearer explanation of this department's purpose, Mayor Koch merely shrugged his shoulders and continued devouring his meatball salad.

Jonathan P. Brillo, who is listed on the City of Quincy's municipal webpage as "Sealer of Weights and Measures," was unavailable for comment on the matter, however, was spotted by several residents at TJ Maxx, purchasing discount track suits for work, as his job appears to have absolutely no dress code.

"Weights and measures?" asked Joe "Crazy Dipping Sauce" Relievio, a concerned citizen with a $2,000-per-day OxyContin habit. "That seems ridiculous."

Relievio then attempted to back his comment up with a well-educated argument, although fell asleep in the process, falling backwards into oncoming traffic.

Relievio's body was then carelessly tossed aside, where it was then weighed and measured by a city worker for no apparent reason at all.

"He had a good weight to him," remarked Charles Waterbed, who has worked as the Chief Executive Inspector of Occurrences and Happenings at the Department of Weights and Measures for the past nine years. "I've seen better measurements in my days, but you can always put that aside when they have a good weight to them."

Waterbed then went on to explain how he has always favored weights over measures, although realizes that weight is, in itself, a form of measurement.

"There's a lot of things going down these days," Waterbed added. "Me and Brillo have been running this gig for a while now. Weighed a lot of shit. It just seems like things are changing. Maybe for the better, maybe for the worse. With the right technology, we could weigh the whole city, maybe even the world."


Jonathan P. Brillo, Sealer of Weights and Measures

"I love this job," Waterbed concluded, before driving directly into a team of DPW workers in what appeared to be a mix between a joke gone wrong and a catastrophic failure of his city-issued Toyota Corolla's anti-lock braking system.

But not all Quincy residents seem to share Waterbed's enthusiasm for weights and measures, some of them going as far as to actively speak against them.

"A department that does nothing but look at weighing and measuring equipment?" asked Thomas Brownstone, a car salesman from Adams Shore. "Nah, we don't need that shit. That's a fucking hack job if I've ever heard of one. I don't know about you, but I'm all set with my hard-earned tax dollars going to that shit. Let me guess, these dickheads are getting a paid day off on Monday, too, right? If I ever get my hands on one of them douchebags, I'm gonna hold 'em down to the ground and make 'em weigh my fucking asshole while I shit. Measure that, bitch!"

For more information on weights and measures, call 617-376-1000.

Egyptian immigrants settle into new life in Quincy

Article by Brunk Edwards / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

New residents moved onto Furnace Brook Parkway in the Wollaston section of Quincy this weekend, making things a little more exotic.

No, it wasn’t another wise-cracking parrot or a heroin-riddled vagabond; it was a family of Egyptian immigrants who moved to the United States for a fresh start and a crack at the American dream.

Abubakr al-Bundy, his wife Cleopatra and their four children unloaded their belongings in a 2nd floor apartment last Saturday to much fanfare from the local community, who were intrigued and amused by the family that had previously lived just outside of Cairo, Egypt.

“These guys are great!” announced James “Gum” Shoe, an unemployed cable television watcher, who lives in the apartment downstairs.

Taking a solid five minutes to drink the remainder of his Miller High Life 30-rack while the al-Bundys struggled to lift a couch up the front porch stairs, Shoe remarked that things "just got a little spicy around here.”

Neighbors from all corners of Furnace Brook Parkway spent the day getting to know the “new guys” and dropping off gifts.

Bobby Tuna, an immigrant originally from Brockton, expressed wonder at the family’s “go get ‘em” spirit. “Look at them move that furniture," Tuna remarked. "These fuckin’ pyramid-builders are alright by me, I'll tell ya!”

“Yeah, Quincy is a good choice. Egypt ain’t nothing but sand and statues of cats,” muttered old-timer Alf Nelson, who has resided at 100 Furnace Brook Parkway for over twenty years. Sadly, Mr. Nelson was killed only moments later when 3rd floor resident Bart Dinkus fired a box-spring mattress onto his skull in an attempt to throw it into a nearby dumpster.

Funeral arrangements will be handled by Bart Dinkus of Dinkus Discount Funeral Home sometime later this year.

When asked how his family is finding life in the City of Presidents, al-Bundy replied positively. “It’s nice. The community has really reached out to us.”

Abubakar, who can trace his bloodline directly back to Pharaoh Ramesses I, then collapsed as the large, marble kitchen table he attempted to carry up to his apartment by himself crushed his legs, resulting in one of the most horrifying Egyptian screams in recent Quincy memory.

Wollaston residents tired of dealing with sad neighbor, unable to tolerate it any longer

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

Carla Sandwich lives in a beautiful two story home on Wollaston Hill, where she and her three daughters enjoy going on adventures in their spacious, wooded backyard. At night, they cuddle up and watch movies together, taking turns telling stories about how happy they are. To some, she lives the epitome of the American dream.

In the springtime, Carla and the children hang banners up in support of her husband, a devoted father of three, who has spent the last six years serving overseas.

But what Carla doesn't realize is that absolutely none of it is real.

Since the summer of 2004, when Carla moved to the quiet Wollaston Hill neighborhood, nobody has ever once laid eyes on her children, and not a single branch of the United States armed forces has any record of anyone with the last name Sandwich currently serving with them, whether overseas or on American soil.

The truth is, Carla Sandwich's life is nothing more than a thinly veiled facade.

"My husband loves me very much," Sandwich claimed. "He's in Iraq now, but he sends me letters all the time. He can't wait to see me. He'll be coming home soon."

After speaking with several employees of the Wollaston Post Office, it was determined that no mailman has ever even realized Sandwich's house was there.

"They used to call my husband 'Salami Sandwich' back in high school," Sandwich added. "It was just a joke amongst the schoolboys, but, deep down inside, I think it destroyed him. He always hated salami. I would never make him salami. It would bother him too much. That's why I only make him things that he enjoys, like ham, turkey, and the occasional egg salad. Usually ham, though. He loves ham."

Sandwich then planted her head into her hands and began shrieking loudly.

Neighbors, who have been forced to deal with Sandwich's false sense of reality for over six years now, have finally tossed in the towel, demanding that she be removed from the neighborhood and placed into a mental hospital.

"That lady is such a downer," claimed neighbor Ken Crankman, whose view from the kitchen window is ground zero for Sandwich's never ending campaign of madness. "I'm not dealing with it anymore. I shouldn't have to. It's fucking sick."

Sandwich's neighbors are currently working on a petition to have her committed and are expected to have more than enough signatures by the end of the day.

Men's feet in public "still disgusting," study shows

Article by Beak Wilder and Brunk Edwards / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

A recent study performed at Quincy College shows that absolutely everyone is disgusted by having to look at men's feet in public.

The study, which was conducted by a team of highly regarded experts, was supervised by Jesus De La Tango, assistant manager of the Chipotle Mexican Grill in North Quincy, who also provided catering for the event.

Having immediately come to a unanimous decision, the study ended earlier than expected, paving way for an intense game of Parcheesi between all those involved.

Karen Swiftler, a retired veterinarian from Marina Bay, provided fart noises for the event. She recalled the study as being a "ridiculous waste of taxpayer money," as well as "relaxing and somewhat enjoyable."

Chief Excel spreadsheet manager and renowned sandal-wearer, Helium Robbards, was distraught with the results, but vowed to self-fund further studies in the hopes of achieving a different result.

“Frankly, I’m disappointed with the way things turned out,” remarked a visibly shaken Robbards. “The participants said my feet were disgusting and then pelted me with organic Mexican food. It was awful.”

Robbards then casually sulked away into the night, as his gross, open-sore-covered feet struggled to carry his dejected self.

He had learned a valuable lesson. And that lesson was that men, no matter what the circumstances may be, must never wear sandals in public.

Falling somewhere between punching an elderly woman in the face and licking a newborn baby's asshole, a man wearing sandals is one of life's most forbidden acts, causing a wretched impulse to shoot through anyone who bears witness.

Some consider it to be the ultimate sin, others aren't quite so sure.

Homeless hangout spot closed down due to lack of funding, citywide indifference

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of a cell phone on Broad Street

The small, wooded area on Broad Street that many homeless residents have learned to call "home" has been closed down by it's owner, reports say.

This well-known hangout spot, known as "Club Billy's" to some, as it is located a stone's throw away from the infamous Father Bill's Place, has housed many unpopular characters over the years, almost all of them being unemployed rapists.

Notorious for it's all-day drinking parties and homeless orgies, this small patch of land has plagued the Broad Street area for quite some time.

"I just had to close that place down," said Craig Breakfast, who purchased the plot of land approximately three years ago, although cannot recall why. "Those pieces of shit were using my property for just about anything. I don't care what your political views are, when you can't even walk past your own property without hearing some underage girl gagging on a homeless dick, it kinda makes you reevaluate things. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but come on, that's just gross. I just couldn't afford the upkeep anymore. Why should I have to clean up after those slobs?"

But while most people couldn't care less about the homeless community, others have actually taken the time to speak in favor of these vile creatures.

Stefanie "Nails" Tinotaran, a bleeding heart philanthropist from the bowels of Allston, expressed a general sense of acceptance for homeless people, claiming they add a certain level of spice to life that those who actually have homes do not.

"Homeless people deserve a hangout spot just as much as anybody else," Tinotaran said. "Even if all they do is sniff heroin all day long."

Tinotaran, a liberal Catholic with a knack for being able to combine the two ways of life quite nicely, spent the last six years planting trees and then cutting them down to build crosses for her local church.

"All I am saying is, give peace a chance," Tinotaran concluded, just before being sued for her entire net worth by Apple Records in a civil lawsuit that, ironically, would financially devastate her to the point of homelessness.

As of now, Club Billy's will remain closed for an undisclosed period of time. Anyone caught within the property limits will be subject to arrest and prosecution.

For more information on homeless people, stop paying your bills.

Beloved accountant dies of unnatural causes

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

Authorities are reporting they have found the partial remains of Hyman Siegheil, the Quincy accountant who went missing three months ago today.

Siegheil's remains were found earlier this morning by a group of miserable looking homeless men behind the Bearde's Mobil Station on Route 3A.

No further details on the state of his remains have been released.

Siegheil, an unfortunately named Jew from Quincy's Upper West Side, was a lover of Reuben sandwiches, often spending many of his weekends with friends and family at Barry's Deli in Wollaston Center.

A popular accountant and avid chess player, Siegheil was considered a pillar of the community, earning the nickname "Jew Velvet" for his soft and noble demeanor.

"Hyman was the kind of guy that would do anything for a friend," remembered Sol Greene, Siegheil's business partner. "He'd even help you launder money."

While authorities would not confirm if Siegheil's death was mob related, they did confirm that there was absolutely no way that it wasn't.

Services for Hyman Siegheil will be provided this Friday afternoon by Sweeney Brothers Funeral Home in South Quincy.

Donations can be made later that evening in the form of beers at the Varsity Club.

"I always knew things would end bad for Hyman," Greene added, as he peered through the blinds with the defeated anticipation of a man who knows his days are numbered. "They'll be coming for me next, you just watch. Any minute now, someone's gonna come walking through that door and put two in my head. I just hope I never see it coming. If I'm lucky, it'll happen in my sleep."

Gmail crash disrupts Wollaston charity event

Article by Brunk Edwards and Beak Wilder / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

A charity event held at Wollaston Wine & Liquors yesterday was disrupted when a van driven by local stooge Gerome “Gmail” Mailer, 36, of Farrington Street, crashed violently through the front entrance.

No injuries were reported, with the exception of multiple disabled children who were pinned under the wreckage for a number of hours.

It is assumed they will remain disabled, with the possibility that some will become “more disabled,” according to Dr. Desmond Shaw of Quincy Medical Center.

Mailer, a door-to-door door salesman and self-described “extreme driver," has previous arrests on his record for flying a kite in Aisle 3 of Super Stop & Shop and for drilling a 70-foot hole in his backyard in a frantic all-night search for oil to power an old-time lamp.

“He came right in through the front, and all you could hear was glass shattering and people screaming,” recalled Steven Snell, a man who knows his way around a public restroom. Pausing briefly to pocket an expensive bottle of Chardonnay, Snell remarked, “It was miraculous that no one was killed. I was right there and pushed everyone out of the way. I’m a hero.”

It was later revealed that Mr. Snell was not at Wollaston Wine & Liquors yesterday, but instead, spent the entire day in a dark room searching the internet for the “world’s strongest dog.”

There is no word at this time as to what charity the event was funding, but it is well-known that Wollaston Wine & Liquors has moderate-to-strong ties to Latvian dictator Dr. Victor Von Doom and his ongoing campaign to dominate the world.

Von Doom, shortly after consuming a 12 pack of “cheap shit.”

While representatives of Wollaston Wine & Liquors refused to comment on the matter, one employee did state that "this kind of accident occurs all the time," even going as far as to say he expects "many more to come" in the near future.

Asian prostitution ring busted on mayor's street

Article by Beak Wilder and Brunk Edwards / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

Forced to fuck dudes for nothing more than a bowl of rice a day, dozens of Asian women were lured into the enticing world of sex trafficking through Chinese newspapers, social networking sites, and viral marketing campaigns.

Advertisements for these escort services were placed in the Boston Phoenix and on Craigslist, offering clients "crazy pleasure" in exchange for cold, hard cash.

The Quincy brothel in question was identified in a federal indictment as 18 Newbury Ave., just a half-mile away from Mayor Koch's 249 Newbury Ave. home.

But what does this mean for our city? Many residents are still unsure.

"How can the mayor of our city live on the same street as an illegal sex ring and have no idea about it?" asked Claire Dipset, who also goes by the name Tiffany McNabb. "You can hear an Asian woman cumming from two cities away, nevermind a half-mile. Somebody's not telling the whole story here. Something is amiss."

Raiding the Newbury Ave. apartment complex, Quincy Police Department's Special Victims Unit apprehended Hahn Phuck Wong, 30, of North Quincy, as well as Chong Duk Quan, 41, of New York City's Lower East Side.

Wong and Quan will be arraigned together at Quincy District Court, shortly after authorities are able to determine how to enter and search their mint condition, tricked-out Subaru Imprezas, which, according to baffled officers at the crime scene, have "no visible door handles."

If convicted, they could both serve up to 30 days in prison.


Surveillance photo of the 18 Newbury Ave. location of the North Quincy brothel.

"We believe that both Wong and Quan kept a list of names and records of each client," spoke Officer Nico Haylen, who was mysteriously early arriving on the scene. "The trouble is, it seems that these records are kept in the glove compartments of their vehicles, which, as far as we've been able to tell, have absolutely no door handles. So, once somebody comes up with a way to get into a car with no door handles, we can go further. Until then, all we can do is wait."

Spending his morning observing the police crackdown, elderly neighbor Malt Whitman of 22 Newbury Ave. remarked that “the days of the free-range prostitute are over. The age of the brothel is here.”

Within police earshot, Whitman then ordered over 30 buckets of high-grade linoleum to feed an addiction which has crippled him since the late 1970s.

As of now, Mayor Koch has made no official comment on this matter.

Dr. Dre, coming straight outta...Boston?

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

Opening day at historic Fenway Park saw many familiar faces, as well as a 9-7 win over the New York Yankees, Boston's longest running rival.

Among those in attendance were rock legends, Steven Tyler and Neil Diamond, sports player, LeBron James, and nigga with attitude, Dr. Dre.

Sticking to a seemingly new backstory of being "straight outta Boston," Dre began to receive dirty looks and awkward glances from those who remember his earlier days as a young rap artist, with some going as far as to claim the iconic performer was, as he would have put it, "flakin' and perpetratin', but scared to kick reality."

"Dr. Dre is not from Boston," declared Bruce Old, a volunteer historian from Montclair. "As far as I'm concerned, he's not even from Massachusetts."

It is still unclear at this time as to how far, exactly, Mr. Old is concerned.

"I just took some Ecstasy," Dre remarked, after being asked an entirely unrelated question. "Ain't no tellin' what the side effects could be."

Collapsing in the stands as the soothing sounds of a Roland TR-808 Rhythm Composer began to pound the stadium through Fenway's brand new Bose speaker system, Dre was then rushed to Mass General Hospital, where he was pronounced "high as a motherfucker" and sent to detox to get clean.

There is no word yet on when Dre will be released from detox, nor has there been any confirmation on whether, or not, he will actually release The Detox.

Local priest wins staring contest, respect of peers

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

Reverend Jack Jessup of St. Mary's Parish in West Quincy took home the gold yesterday evening in Quincy's semi-annual Easter Staring Contest.

Jessup, a self-proclaimed "holy man-about-town," was last in the news after several misunderstandings between him and the Johnson Publishing Company, of Chicago, Illinois, left him with a three-year subscription to JET magazine.

The contest, which was held at Adams Field, was judged by a panel of experts that were flown in from the Monponsett section of Hanson.

Making his way into the championship round, Jessup faced six-time winner, John Mustard, who lost on a technicality after it was revealed that he was blind.

As the crowd gathered in for the final round, Jessup faced current champion, Jared Spoonman, who, after over two hours of maintaining a cold, dead stare, blew a blood vessel in his right eye, causing him to lose his title, as well as his eye.

"I'm going to King's Castle Land," Jessup remarked, after being asked his feelings on winning one of Quincy's most prestigious Easter awards.

Unaware that King's Castle Land has been closed since the mid-nineties, Jessup then headed up Route 18, blasting Kings of Leon's "Use Somebody" at a bowel-wrenching volume through his 1993 Toyota Corolla's Bose speaker system.

Arriving home approximately three hours later with a brand new King's Castle Land shirt on, Jessup's neighbors began to wonder if an Easter miracle was upon them.

Some say it was just God playing favorites, others weren't quite so sure.

La Paloma restaurant issued stern verbal warning by self-proclaimed inspector

Article by Brunk Edwards / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

Well-known Mexican themed restaurant, La Paloma, was issued a stern verbal warning by Melvin Sobe, a self-proclaimed “inspector” and general man-about-town.

The warning was issued via verbal screaming last night at approximately 9:30pm.

Sobe, a food consumer from the bowels of North Quincy, reportedly launched a rapid-fire campaign of hate towards waitresses at the popular restaurant for what he deemed to be “unbelievable antics.”

“First off, they undercooked the hot dog that I brought in,” miffed Sobe, as he soothed a broken elbow that was slammed by a speeding Toyota Corolla mere minutes earlier.

“Then, I noticed that the table salt seemed to contain an extreme amount of sodium,” Sobe continued. “Sodium is the leading cause of fucking insane heart attacks in this country. If a child, or even a grown-up adult, drank that salt, they could very well be subjected to a debilitating heart condition. It’s just not safe.”

Spending the next several minutes begging for loose change and taking wild, unorthodox swings at a nearby pigeon, Sobe returned to the topic at hand.

“You’ve got to stop this type of bullshit right when it starts. You can't just sit back and do nothing. If I don’t say something now, who knows how far it will go? I mean, look at what happened in Germany back in ’39.”

In a surprising turn of events, Sobe was killed seconds later by a boomerang which had spun wildly out of control from a group of foreign children.

Management at La Paloma declined to comment on the allegations, however, responded to crowds gathering outside by blaring Method Man’s “M.E.T.H.O.D. Man” at a tooth-decaying volume.