BE PREPARED...

Lincoln's Trombone is going live....and remote...

The General is going to do our first man on the street (if you will) site work as an anonymous real time blogger from none other than Orlando, Florida. I will be doing some advance work, but will be there to first hand witness this event and report all things faggot: HERE

The thought of this mission repulses every inch of my body and if you know me, that is saying a hell of a lot.

However, for the good of the blog, for the good of the nation, for the good of the old fashioned mockery of it, I'm gonna blog live goings on.

Please feel free to add your special requests......

PS: I just threw up a little in my mouth....

Frat Boy Gossip Columnist

Greetings from the Chi House! We rock!!

I tell you what, we got so ****faced last night it wasn’t even funny. I almost missed my friggin deadline! But here I am, with news of celebrities and ****.

Hollywood **** Lindsay Lohan is reportedly planning a birthday bash. Should be one drunken whorefest. Sweet piece of ***, but at this point I wouldn’t tap that skank with your ****!

Speaking of skanks, Jessica Alba is gonna marry some NSync faggot. Man, she sure went from piece of *** to piece of **** in the time it takes to popcorn ****!

Another faggot band, New Kids On My ****, is back together. Most of the guys here in the house think they suck, but sometimes I like watching a group where I know I could kick any of their *****.

Must be the week for wuss musicians. Bon Jovi was on that news show with all the old *****. He’s a cowboy, all right. Riding straight up my ******* leg!

The new Indiana Jones movie is out. I hear it kicks ***, even tho the star is like 90. On the plus side, that makes him a good match for Karen Allen’s wrinkly ***.

There’s a rumor of a CHiPs movie, sort of like that Starsky & Hutch piece of **** from a few years back. What I heard is that Carlos Mencia is set to play Ponch. Guess the role called for pretend edgy but not remotely funny.

That show Lost is taking a 2-week hiatus. With so much time off, aren’t they worried their audience will get confused? Ha ha! I mean like, what the ****?!

American Idol finally ends this week. Since it’s 2 dudes, they should have them fight it out. MMA, man! That would absolutely rock! On the same bill they could match that political show guy who used to do Sports Center versus the ****head who’s all over the web yelling at his producer. I hear those 2 ****sticks hate each other!

It’s also 2 dudes left running for President. Tough choice. One’s a hard ***, the other actually knows some music post-Dave Clark 5. Too bad Eddie Vedder ain’t running. Or Will Smith! That dude kicks ***!!

In the world of sports, John McEnroe is again gonna be the color commentator for the French Open. So once more, we get to hear that dip**** tell us how to win a title he never sniffed.

Finally, Big Brown won a race or some such ****. I don’t follow horse racing, being that I’m under 70.

A Paragraph of Sentences That Have Never Been Uttered

Fondue forks may well investigate the mental hygiene millers of Flat Top whilst tube socks milk forests of guava melts. Moreover, those magnets of lint, they force derivative destinations into twilight. Bingo hails indubitably across the blue dwarf. Conversely, occupations that taste like ink can be utilized on the scabs of plaid duffel bags. Horse meat, of course, just holds the Flaxin cards. It follows, then, that clandestine diseased fruit cannot be tried for murder within a vacuum. Catch the filibuster now, Saint Weatherhorse? I believe you and 17 tapirs roundly assonate! Furthermore, saving the table scraps of Revolutionary War widows is unethical toward pleasing Forrest Whitaker. I mean: “Banks in your shoe?” cold cocked Grady’s stand-in. With that in mind, oatmeal toast is forever Carl Jung. From this argument, one can opine that corn soup would likely have a backhand that scatters municipalities. And I don’t need shuttlecocks of spearmint in my gruel! In other words, smegma cannot be sold at hockey games in Hell. So why, you ask, is dinner served in the void of consciousness? Well, maple dung hairs notwithstanding, there is conclusiveness surrounding Frisbees. And admonishments are clarity personified. Therefore, bullies fornicating on ice are neither sea dwelling lint nor should I amble about. However, traces of mastication arrive daily in fonts of oak. This particular argument proposes clambake justice for French Open qualifiers of modest girth. In essence, tribal sensibilities inherit Formica ball returns toward louder farts. Climb it on Topcat’s ear, I hear you justify. That said, guppies traipse sideways in transfer functions alluded to by Diffenbach. But “hold your placenta!” screams the wayward youth of mooring scabs. Indeed, strangeness oil, forgotten as one, banters about with Ms. Pac-Man. To clarify, bale sandwiches mark the drainage of certitude. Pour crayon welts atop flow cycles, you ask? Well, payment of frosting accelerates doors hidden via Millard Fillmore’s phallic cloud formations. More specifically, mountainous, gelatinous, pendulumous breasts clarify the auction sites without ever once leaving Cleveland, eh? Those who can’t wax holidays feel it like bass gurneys. In conclusion then, tapestry cinderblocks revolutionize the needed objectives of youth, despite fantastics who can’t say otherwise. Neither, of course, does Larry Storch’s irritatingly frightened muffin tops.

Unusual Ways to spend your tax rebate

1. A bikini wax for those hard to get to places on your pet wallaby.
2. Spanish lessons for the broccoli that refuses to respond to the erstwhile longings of a love stricken japaleno.
3. Buy some watermelons and go door to door on your street telling women "i'll let you touch mine if you let me touch yours"
4. Hoarding off-brand spleen juice at Sam's Club
5. Go to the jail, randomly bail out a drunk and then have him arrested again for indecent exposure.
6. Sponsor the first annual "Erik Estrada film festival and turnip tasting"
7. Trade it all in for dimes and pay for everything for a week in change.
8. Educational experience: Take pacman jones clubbing with the fam....
9. Rent a booth at the county fair and tell 'fortunes' by sniffing armpits
10. Have your name legally changed to Loebig-Muncy.

Ranking Nothing in Particular

What a difference loads of mispronounced grapefruit make!

Top 5, April 21, 2008:

1. Tiger spleen drops not from India
2. Clandestine mortification at disciples of glue
3. Rebellious grandmasters posing as insect dung
4. Guys named Ed whose glasses fog upon sudden bouts of delirium
5. Tiebreakers that end in /n/

Top 5 when removing the nexus of Hendershorts:

1. Acid rain devoid of vinyl Jed Clampett impersonators
2. Laughing at a drunk’s dangling participle
3. Municipal cool dudes, strutting their socket wrenches
4. Dependence upon formaldehyde groupies
5. Dyspepsia removed from the souls of wailing grapes

Tax Day Advice (Actually Random Musings)

If I were ever talking to myself and then suddenly realized someone was in the next stall, I would pretend I was on a cell phone call and say, “You idiot! You do that and it won’t detonate!”

When ranking the melodiousness of 3^rd century dental ailments, I would have to place pericementitis first, although one could make a case for pulpitis.

I firmly believe that Speedy Gonzalez could beat the Road Runner in a short sprint (say, across a room), but would lose miserably at any distance over a half mile.

Mules blasted into outer space would be cool, unless one of them got injured. Then Houston would have to listen to wailing and braying until they got tired of it and exploded the rocket.

I don’t believe Einstein died of an aneurysm. I think he solved time travel, but the technology eventually got into the wrong hands and so, to cover their tracks, the bad guys went back in time and killed Big Al before he actually invented the very system they were using to murder him.

Based on their descriptions, one would think that hot fudge over ice cream was a dumb idea and auto racing would be cool, not the other way around.

If formal diagnostic testing could be used to help scrutinize the leftist leanings of those who like to dress up as albino armadillos, I would worry that the backhoe contingency would do little more than describe saucers of malt liquor.

Although most Americans don’t believe in dictatorships, you have to admit that it’s kind of cool how we might continue handing the presidency back and forth between 2 dysfunctional families.

Tromboning: Myths vs. Facts

Myth: The mainstream tromboning media have a bias against rust belt players.

Fact: Within the past 2 years, sections from the Cleveland and Toledo symphonies, as well as that of the Gary Pops, have been featured favorably in both Trombone Monthly and Sliding with Sly. Moreover, the first and third chairs from, respectively, Miami and Fresno, have been blasted by the same major publications during this time period.

Myth: The mouthpiece makes the player.

Fact: A nice piece is great, but without decent lip action, you might as well blow a woodwind.

Myth: Pulling the pipe results in greater bell size.

Fact: It may seem that way at the time, but overall mass doesn’t change.

Myth: The Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s one-liners about “slide extension” are the filthiest trombone jokes known to man.

Fact: Only for those with short memories. Back in the day, members of the London Philharmonic told tromboner jokes that were more vulgar than a cellist in heat.

And finally…

Myth: Simply owning a Bach large bore makes one more arrogant.

Fact: 2 words—Niel Loebig.

Some Good April Fools' Pranks

Sneak up on your best friend’s wife and, when she’s least expecting it, break her arm.

Take a dump on your boss’s desk. When he asks who did it, say it couldn’t have been you because yours smell like peppermint.

Tell your children that mommy and daddy are getting a divorce because they can’t stand to be around kids who fight all the damn time.

If your girlfriend is feeling amorous, kiss her passionately. Then blindfold her and tell her you have a kinky surprise. Once this step is completed, quietly sneak in your roommate to finish the job.

Go into a co-worker’s office when he isn’t there. Pour beer all over the carpet. Call in the boss and ask if he thinks your colleague might be drinking on the job.

When the meeting chairperson isn’t looking, perform surprise titty twisters on other committee members.

Power staple a slide trombone to a stranger’s back.

Replace your roommate’s mouthwash with cerebro-spinal fluid. If he’s a major league baseball player, do the same to his syringes.

Ask your girlfriend if she wants to rent The Godfather. When she goes out to get it, place a bloody horse’s head under her sheets. Wait 3 hours for the merriment to ensue.

In permanent marker, write “I eat sh*t” on your sleeping spouse’s forehead. Make sure he or she oversleeps and has to rush out quickly in the morning. And hide all the hats.

Call a subordinate into your office. Tell him that you’ve received numerous reports that he’s a Nazi. Turn on a tape player and say, “According to federal law, I’m required to record your response.”

If you’re an identical twin, threaten to break up with your brother’s girlfriend unless she bears you a son.

And, lastly:

Make your mother think she’s pregnant by climbing back into her womb.

Numero 151-160 Central American sayings....

160. Somos los verdaderos americanos
159. Vaminos Liquidos Poopos
158. El Kaline Spleeno Juico
157. La Trombona Magnficent, El Producto mucho bueno musico
156. ¿Cuál es el precio de la especial Spitzer?
155. Loebig come Muncy la vagina
154. I puke, por lo tanto, i am
153. My name jose jimenez
152. I mi izquierda obnoxion cuchara hasta su culo
151. Sus testículos como el sabor del pene britney

Af-Am Veterans for Truth Raise Questions About Obama

A group calling themselves “African-American Veterans for Truth” is questioning the veracity of Barack Obama’s assertion that he is of African ancestry. Claiming to be former colleagues of the Illinois senator, this newly formed organization is going public with what they term “the real story.”

The leader of the group, who goes only by the name “Cement Head,” had this to say about the presidential candidate: “It’s falsehood, that’s all it is, claiming to be African-American when you’re clearly not. It would be like a stapler pretending to be wiffle ball, you know?” Other members chimed in on the topic as well.

“He’s not been honest with America,” said one unidentified woman. “We have what I consider sound evidence that he watches NASCAR.”

“A friend of mine knows someone who heard Lee Greenwood coming from his car stereo,” added a middle aged man who wished to be identified as H. “All I’ll say is the next time somebody says ‘all African-Americans raise your hands,’ you can bet he won’t.”

Although admitting he never met Obama, or saw him in person, Cement Head stated that he grew up “just a few states” from Illinois and that he “knows and hears shit.” He was not as quick to respond to the question of why his group is called “African-American Veterans for Truth” when neither he nor any of his cohorts are black.

“Now Obama can see what it’s like,” he finally opined, adding that “at least one” of the members is a veteran.

“So we’re basically representing ourselves honestly.”

BREAKING NEWS!

Lincoln’s Trombone has been provided with a copy of a phone conversation that we believe to be authentic. (Well, we paid $29.95 for it….)

Client #8: "Hey ya, Kirsten, this is your favorite john!"

Kirsten: "Hugh Grant! I've been waiting to hear from you, honey!"

Client #8: "No, goddammit, this isn't f**king Hugh Grant. It's George Foxx."

Kirsten: "I don't know a Georg.... Oh wait a minute! I remember you! You paid me $10,000 to jack you off while you were kissing a picture of that insurance dude. Greenspan, Greenman...something like that. I really didn't think I'd hear from you again after our last time."

Client #8: "Hell yes, bitch. I've been so damn lonely. It's really hard being me. I thought of a cute hooker joke for you! What do you ask a guy who gives you $25k? Spitzer Swallows! GET IT? HAHAHAHA!"

Kirsten: "Ummm, thanks. I'll try to remember that one. Hey did you ever get that big nasty red spot checked? I am a little nervous."

Client #8: "Why be nervous baby?"

Kirsten: "Well after that session we had with the goat and the Albanian dwarf.....well, you can't be too careful. Oh yeah, that chick that was married to the Clanton dude. What was her name? It was kinda like that dude that went to the South pole. HA? Just like you like to do! Anyways...is she coming again? HA another joke! No, is she JOINING us again? I don't like it when shes there. She doesn't tip very well..."

Client #8: "No, she isn't coming....I mean...HAHA, isn't joining us this time. She's found another piece of shrubbery. OK, so what's the deal? We gonna hook up tonight or what? I took some cialis, but dammit if it didn't get used up when I was shaving! I am dead, f**king sexy!"

Kirsten: "Yeah, right....I guess so. My hand always cramps up trying to hold your little thingy..."

Client #8: "Listen bitch, for $5k you think you could at least pretend that I was well-hung...after all, it's the motion of the ocean, right? AND be careful...(whisper) you never know who might be listening...

Kirsten: "Oh yeah, that reminds me. This dude from the IRS called and said that I owed some taxes and that I could either pay him back by f**king him or f**king you. Guess which one I chose, haha!"

Transmission ends......

Emily Dickinson and Andy Sipowicz visit Boston

“Copley is a veritable ruby, lathed in restaurants, drawing me as a clasp secures.”

“Clasp this.”

“Oh my! Would food not you partake at present? Then perhaps Fenway beckons.”

“I wouldn’t go to that craphole if you lined up shots with your t*ts.”

“Where then—St. Charles in its spotted splendor?”

“Sure. And after I p*** in that toilet, what then?”

“Forest Hills, my good man, as yea matches beauty to the wreckage of solitary lives.”

“Sounds like a riot. Walking on dead guys. Why don’t we find a pool hall in Formaggio and ask a couple of punk locals to step outside?”

“Violence is purple, killing my soul! The sun and forest know but an adder’s tongue.”

“Uh, sure thing, genius. If it helps, I’m sure the guys in the pool hall will give you something to tongue.”

“Malevolence! Your boggy lack of cordiality welts in me the sadness of distant memory!”

“Does that mean you want to do it?”

“Sir! Your utter crudeness…uh, actually, OK sure.”

Obscure facts that I am absolutely certain of

You know, in this mad rush of a world we live in, much uncertainty exists. In fact, we are constantly bombarded with a certain modern relativism that suggests that nothing we hold dear is certain. Just today, I found out that Moses was not a prophet, did not see God. He was a BC junkie; a historical version of Jimi Hendrix. Proof is here . As the day wears on into night, I realize that I cannot be sure of virtually any significant fact or belief that I have held true to this point in my life for fear of being publicly reprimanded or proven wrong. (Can you just imagine what Moses day would be like???) So, to preserve my sanity, I have created a list of obscure facts that I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN are true. I am currently considering whether this list of ten items could be the basis for a new world religion. I guess after some discussion , we could decide this as a group.

1. Enlarged left testicles can cause some awkward package positioning.
2. Yeat's Beast lives and is embodied in a modern female political figure.
3. My charcoal grill is having an affair with the neighbor's cat.
4. Sal Muncy is not a real person.
5. The preacher dude in Chariots of Fire died of aids. (He shouldn't have 'run' on Sunday)
6. There is a hidden Mickey in my pubes.
7. Texas (sucks) emits a distinct odor.
8. I don't understand toe fetish.
9. Flaggledrop is not particularly obtuse.
10. Martha Hicks sucks dead donkey d**ks (or so a kid in 7th grade told me)

Leap Day Thoughts

As February 29 only comes around every whatever it is (14 or 15 years?), it marks a perfect time to take a break from the mundane and contemplate life’s larger questions. As a public service, I will provide some concepts for our readers to wrap their minds around on this Leap Day 2008. Happy thinking.

How can the universe keep expanding? What’s out there beyond it? And if it’s nothing (not even space), what would that look like?

How can pi be infinite and the universe not?

If there are parallel universes, is there a me out there who didn’t tell Erika Elaniak to take a hike?

Can people really make deals with the devil? And if not, how do you explain David Lee Roth?

If diarrhea dehydrates you, would holding it in keep you moist?

Are there bowl games in heaven? If not, how do they waste away New Year’s Day?

When guys tell stories that involve taking a leak, why do they invariably hold their right hands like they’re gripping a can of Fosters?

Why didn’t they make crap a cuss word? It’s got 4 letters, it refers to a bodily function not discussed in polite company, and it sounds vulgar—in short, all the usual prerequisites for profanity. And yet, it never achieved such status.

Were down actually the dreams of black spotted puppies, would geese be any less mobile in the rain?

Why does armpit hair stop growing after it reaches a certain length?

What would happen if Jack Bauer and Jason Bourne were hunting each other down?

And finally,

If the backhoe contingency were followed to the letter, would basic delays of gamesmanship result in an infiltration of the obtuse combination of regulations known as flaggledrop?

Words that almost rhyme with douche-bag

The top 15, as of 3:36 CDT, February 27, 2008

15. GeorgeHWGeorgeWJebandtherest-Bush
14. Mecha-Streisand
13. Estrada-able
12. Antelope pecker-puss
11. Bric-a-Brac
10. Loebid-ness
09. F*****g-Liberace
08. Slide-salve
07. Yeat's-Beast
06. Hussein-Orgasm
05. Bill-ary
04. Kaline-splenectomy
03. Mortgage-banker
02. Diffenbach-Texas
01. Boomer-Backer

Duke’s Mailbag

Hey, I get mail too!

Dear Duke of Coagulation: Based on your recognition of both poetry and prose, I have to say that you’re clearly a literary sort of guy. My question is this: Why do SBDs stink so much? Especially the ones that burn. Mookie Saluki

Dear MooSal: What—they don’t have a literature department there at SIU? Let them handle your question.

Dear Duke: You clearly know a lot of celebrities (e.g., Al Kaline, Ted Nugent, General Fester). Have you ever met Diffenbach? Old Doc Potter

Dear Sherm: Have I ever met Diffenbach? Does Millard Fillmore kick ass?

Dear Duke: Are these letters real or composed by you? Milt Laerton

Dear ML Junior or Senior (whichever one you are): Most are real. Yours, however, is one I made up.

Dear Duke: How about mine? Niel Loebig

Dear DUQB: Seems real to me.

Dear Duke: What kind of an idiot would waste his or her time reading your asinine blog? Man’s Man in Boise

Dear Ma’ma’s Boi: The classification schema for idiocy is based on a number of parameters—intelligence, impulsiveness, and childishness, to name but a few. Those who frequent this site tend to be characterized by traits clustering within the alpha subclass of the factor butthead. Also guys who like to say “Ooga!” in high voice.

In Honor of President's Day

A little known list of some 'dirty little secrets', in honor of the day.....

1. George Washington, 1789-1797 – frequent snatch grabber
2. John Adams, 1797-1801 – had boils on his left testicle
3. Thomas Jefferson, 1801-1809 – ‘spoke’ to the spirits of dead spleens
4. James Madison, 1809-1817 – dressed up like Dolly’s sister and played nurse
5. James Monroe, 1817-1825 – little known ‘doctrine of flatulence’
6. John Quincy Adams, 1825-1829 – friends called him JQ polyp popper
7. Andrew Jackson, 1829-1837 – known for his shadow puppet likeness of a dead wolverine
8. Martin Van Buren, 1837-1841 – discouraged when his pet rock urinated on his new shoes
9. William Henry Harrison, 1841 – smoked the wildwood weed with Dick Johnson
10. John Tyler, 1841-1845 – first foot fetish POTUS….
11. James Knox Polk, 1845-1849 – average guy in the list, but his **** tasted like ****
12. Zachary Taylor, 1849-1850 – spent hours pondering the asterisk
13. Millard Fillmore, 1850-1853 – GREATEST PRESIDENT NEVER ELECTED
14. Franklin Pierce, 1853-1857 – world class dingleberry collection
15. James Buchanan, 1857-1861 – kept saying ‘turd burglar’ during inaugural address
16. Abraham Lincoln, 1861-1865 – greatest Trombonist to ever sleep with Mary Todd
17. Andrew Johnson, 1865-1869 – spoke profanity in strict Elizabethan method
18. Ulysses Simpson Grant, 1869-1877 – had a doll collection all named “Jeffie Boy”
19. Rutherford Birchard Hayes, 1877-1881 – breast fed until he was 42
20. James Abram Garfield, 1881 – first woman president
21. Chester Alan Arthur, 1881-1885 – invented the ‘festering puss’ sarsaparilla
22. Grover Cleveland, 1885-1889 – irritated parents by filing name change to “Kalamazoo”
23. Benjamin Harrison, 1889-1893 – spanked pet gerbils before feedings
24. Grover Cleveland, 1893-1897 – sang in the tub, fully clothed
25. William McKinley, 1897-1901 – the original ‘heartbreak of psoriasis’
26. Theodore Roosevelt, 1901-1909 – ‘bully’ meant ‘fu**stick’
27. William Howard Taft, 1909-1913 – consumed his first VP candidate (and a side of gravy)
28. Woodrow Wilson, 1913-1921 – until 1993, most practiced POTUS in the Kama Sutra
29. Warren Gamaliel Harding, 1921-1923 – collected toenails of former First Ladies
30. Calvin Coolidge, 1923-1929 – bladder control issues highlighted his term
31. Herbert Clark Hoover, 1929-1933 – bowel control issues highlighted his term
32. Franklin Delano Roosevelt, 1933-1945 – first POTUS to say ‘obnoxion’ in a speech
33. Harry S. Truman, 1945-1953 – kept opening the icebox after hearing the fruit ‘talk’
34. Dwight David Eisenhower 1953-1961 – first POTUS to bang Marilyn
35. John Fitzgerald Kennedy, 1961-1963 – second POTUS to bang Marilyn
36. Lyndon Baines Johnson, 1963-1969 – last POTUS to bang Marilyn (sick, I know)
37. Richard Milhous Nixon, 1969-1974 – gambled away life savings on aardvark fights
38. Gerald Rudolph Ford, 1974-1977 – incredibly graceful, often did the samba naked
39. James Earl Carter, Jr., 1977-1981 – largest porn collection of POTUS (until 1993)
40. Ronald Wilson Reagan, 1981-1989 – Originally named each of his children “Bonzo”
41. George Herbert Walker Bush, 1989-1993 – liked to trick or treat dressed as M. Fillmore
42. William Jefferson Clinton, 1993-2001 – first non-inhaling virgin POTUS
43. George Walker Bush, 2001- thinks Iraq is just outside Coral Gables

Ranking Nothing in Particular

What a difference 10 minutes makes!

Top 5, February 15, 2008, 11:29 a.m.:

1. Spleenie squeezin’s from Motown
2. Notes heard within the confines of a Nehru jacket
3. Blasted pork home facades designed to fool sarcastic South Dakotans
4. Gargoyles that resemble fish-hook nipples
5. Yelling “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!” solely to confuse whaling pundits

Top 5, February 15, 2008, 11:19 a.m.:

1. The night that foam battered Karch Kiraly’s spork
2. The personification of gas as a .300 hitter
3. Cantilevered industrial tangelos
4. Blowhole wheeze with harmonica accompaniment
5. Frankly giving 2 sh*ts

10 Valentine’s Day Presents That Might Surprise Your Mate

1. Pork

2. Snow tires

3. A dramatic interpretation of crotch rot

4. A wiener puppet portraying the head and torso of surgical pioneer Johann Diffenbach

5. The Ironic Smegma Boxed Set

6. A titty-twister

7. A “19-0 = History” sweatshirt

8. Millard Fillmore’s decaying corpse

9. A life sized cast of your proudest turd

10. Diamond spleenlets

Potential Names for English Football Teams

1. Silly Nannies
2. Meat pie and a pint, mate.
3. The Dentists
4. Revolutionaries
5. Sheep Bangers
6. Freudian Slips
7. Chartered Accountancy R Us
8. Potter Party
9. Churchill's Busteirs
10. Sniveling Piles of Pretentious Poo