Original article posted by Cornelius:

If you’re not familiar with the joke, stop reading and go find a Jonny Cash song called “Boy Named Sue” and listen to it. Then, resume reading.

I can relate to this young man. About two months ago I was walking up a ladder to go on shift in a guard tower. When I reached the top the two guys who were waiting to be relieved said, “Good morning Uma!” I looked at them and said good morning back. I had no idea what to say. What do you say? They just called me “Uma.”

It turns out that they had been having a conversation about actresses (Uma Thurman, for one) and one of them decided that I was going to be, from that time forward, “Uma.” Whatever. You can’t win against fools, so I might as well play along. It could be worse I guess. They could have given me a name that wasn’t even a name, like “Cube”, for instance. (No offense to Cube intended. Or the man who named him.)

So anyway, I figured that they’d get bored of the joke and it would go away. Not so. Those two guys started calling me “U-MA!” everywhere they saw me. Yes, that’s how it’s said too. “U-MA!”

After about three days, everyone in my Battery started calling me that. I guess it stuck. It’s been two months and that’s all they call me. Someone will ask for Anderson and they’ll say, “Oh, you mean Uma. He’s over there.” I go in to the chow hall and someone will say, “Hi Uma! What’s up?” Then everyone else looks at me funny.

So now I’m Uma, I guess. I know how the boy named “Sue” feels. The difference between us is that I have accepted my fate and decided not to harm those who gave me the name.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: Asmodeus
Re: My name is SUE! How do you do?
Yeah I would not let that get to you. I myself have been called all sorts of names from Nazi, satanist, pussy, asshole, queer, dick head, you name it I been called it. Those things almost never bother me at all, of course i am nearly emotionaly dead to the world anymore, my life is full of propaganda anymore.

I call Kellie, Kellers of course she is or was ok with that, I made sure to ask her if it was ok to call her that. But only I get to call her that, it is mine no one else can have that not her current boyfriend nor any of her friends, that is one thing I will slap the shit out of a person for, is taking my heart given name and using it witho out my permission.

Nickname: Cube
Re: My name is SUE! How do you do?

Grumble Gramble….. I think Cube is a fine name…. but then Bearded Blaine you need to remind these men what your real nickname is.

-Cube Out

Nickname: Cornelius
Re: My name is SUE! How do you do?
I never had a real nickname Cube. Many people have tried to name me many things over the years and none of them have stuck. “Cornelius” has been relegated to a screen name and “Bearded Blaine” is more of an adjective than a nickname. I don’t even have a beard anymore. Who ever called me “Bearded Blaine” with any regularity anyway?

You’re right though. Cube is a fine name. It can’t be a fine name if no one uses it. Then it doesn’t do its job. “Cube” does that. It is a fine name.


Original article posted by 1066ad:

Saw the following paper, written by a student at an undisclosed university. Seems like the grader needs to take a spelling class or two, and work on their penmanship. Maybe we really are “Top 10 in Quality and Value.”

Original article posted by Soft_Pen:

Anyone can tell just by looking at Tom Cruise that he has the samurai spirit (which I like to think of as “spamurit) in spades. When the movie “The Last Samurai” started he was just a stupid white soldier, who killed helpless apache children by the bushel. But later, after enduring the ancient Japanese rituals of drinking sake, eating rice with those clever chopsticks, wearing a silky soft kimmono, bowing to every single entity in the village including plants and chickens, and getting his face beat in by a samurai with a wooden stick, Tom Cruise was finally worthy to put on the armor of a samurai, and give those oh-so-samurai piercing glances. Now Tom is no longer Tom; he’s Tomurai, the Kataninator, SupaFlySamurai, or, as the villagers call him: “gaijin”, which is Japanese for “This guy really is one of us”.

When the credits to “The Last Samurai” rolled, I dabbed my teary little eyes, had a Combo Value Meal epiphany; if women and men in our day were to act like the samurai of yore, like Tomurai, there would be a lot less problems. Any old joe walking down the street can tell that the world is full of evil emperors like the one Tomurai fought. Despicable creatures who bring in outrageous contraptions like railroads. Despots who import sewing machines, forcing women, who have darned their husbands’ socks by hand for generations, to now use an efficient, time-saving device to darn their husbands’ socks. How dishonorable! We need thousands of samurai, samurai like Tom-san, who can take their keen-edged blades and slice open the bowels of these so-called progressionists like Rockefeller and Donald Trump. Actually, the first thing Tomurai needs to do is cut off the animal that lives on Donald Trump’s head.

I know what I’m going to do! I’m going to throw away my phone, my microwave and my Xbox out the window. I’m going to run away to Japan, book a tour to an ancient Japanese village, and just live in it, and let people say what they will. I probably will have to beg for food, and go potty behind some shrubs between tour buses, but that’s the kind of sacrifice a true samurai makes.

Just like Tom-san.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: Edward_Nigma
Re: Do It Like Tom
Well as Tom Cruise would put it, “Well L. Ron Hubbard Almighty” you’ve got a point. Once im done releasing these darn threatens I can get back to making samurai gestures of honor such as…. 1) Putting the most honorable toilet seat down after I am done as to not anger my domicile partner, avoiding a most “un-Good” death. 2) Resisting the urge to smack the hell out of another Gothic 17 year old from Bloomington hills as they exit the Hot Topics store exclaming “Dude led zeppelin sucks ass”. 3) Following said 17 year old out to parking lot and laying a most honorable smack down with extreme prejudice, making sure to appeal to the younger generation by stating that every beating I give is EXTREME, like a Mountain Dew Commercial. And finally 4) Figuring out that The Ocean Blue is one of the most underrated bands of the 90’s. Now back to my copy of dianetics!

Original article posted by Edward_Nigma:

First Time story submiting. Please be kind and remeber writing at 3am whle at work in a hospitial is a difficult task. 🙂

The world of teenage life is a fickle one. Especially during those all to awkward and, often embarrassing High School years. And there is nothing more important in the teenage world than attention. Even the so-called rebel, who states he doesn’t care what others think, is most of the time being “different” just like everyone else. And attention is fantastic, up until it comes wholly unwanted from an entire audience of your peers from all 3a schools in the state. This is where we begin.

That Friday dawned bright and early as did countless other throughout my senior year. But the fact the state drama competiton was that day was a little added excitement. Now I’m not here to profess to be a master thespian, but merely to tell you that I enjoyed the theater. Not in that “I’m going off to make my way in New York” type of theater. Nor one of those Drama kids who felt the need to quote Monty Python and the Holy Grail ad nausaeum with a poorly executed English accent. I was in it because my friends we’re, just that simple. And one friend in particular was Bill, now Bill and I had been best friends since 8th grade. To the point where people would stop calling Bill’s house and would call mine instead when they needed to reach him. Now Bill this day had a monolog from Amadeus that he was performing. For this piece he had acquired some period clothing, which included a frilly shirt and large blue felt bloomer pants. My job that day was to help carry his added pieces of set and props to and from each performance that day.

So from 8am to 4pm the secene replayed itself over, and over again. I soon realized that if Bill was to suddenly have a massive heart attack from the stress of the day, I could easily jump in and replace him, as I now had the same monolog engrained in my psyche from multiple deliveries. Perhaps there was a faint hope that this would happen so I could use this useless information now stored for a purpose. Well after judging concluded and the time had come for the announcing of the winners, all the students from all the 3A schools gathered in the auditorium for the awards ceremony. Bill and I we’re chatting it up with some girls from another school, we found that picking up on girls from other schools to work best as they didn’t grow up with you and therefore didn’t remember the time in 3rd grade when you wet yourself in class. We we’re on the front row turned around to chat with these girls whilst the entire rest of the auditorium sat before us chatting. Then a sinister thought crept into my head, which was a commonplace thing in those days. I suddenly realized the great joke that could be played on my friend.

You see blue felt bloomers had no belt loops and therefore would stand to reason would have no belt. Up until this point in our friendship neither of us had inflicted great bodily harm on one another. This was soon to change. So I made a slight move back, pretending to be gazing at the gather multitude before us. Then as Bill talked to his new female targets, I struck. Now the art of the pantsing of someone is a fine one. You must be able to do the pantsing without pulling the underwear of the intended victim down with his pants. This can result in many an uncomfortable moment and possible lawsuit. Now as of that moment it had never occurred to me that Bill might not be wearing underwear at all, under his costume. I would have assumed that given the general dictates of common hygiene this would have been so. But alas I was mistaken. So in a flash, I grabbed pulled and stood arms length away.

The first idea that something was amiss was the automatic look of horror displayed on the faces of the girls, followed quickly by pointing and laughing. Bill it seems didn’t feel the effect of the disrobing till a small draft hit him, and he looked down to see its origin. So there with the entire state of Utah’s 3A drama student looking on, my friend Bill’s “little” secret was displayed. Swiftly he pulled the clothing up and preceded to give mad chase towards the perpetrator, who at that point was already almost out of the room. After a few seconds of chasing, he caught me and unleashed a flurry of shots and words that painted the hallway blue. The effect of laughing releases endorphins into the body, a kind of natural painkiller. This coupled with my spastic movements helped me avoid any real damage. And after about 30seconds my friend tired, stood up, and walked back to his chair. As though hit by a case of merciful amnesia he never spoke of the incident ever again. But this may be the reason behind the dating of my ex-girlfriend a year later…….. But who’s to say.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: Chellee
Re: Teenage hooliganism and the after effects
What I want to know is what year was this? By all means I should have been there, but generally sat at the back of the auditorium being completely self absorbed. This story seems vaguely familiar… Which school was hosting?

Nickname: Edward_Nigma
Re: Teenage hooliganism and the after effects
Dixie High School 94-95

Original article posted by Chellee:

The grand decision is: Creative Spelling. In this case, it is also partially ebonics, in a twisted sort of way. Creative Spelling is not a new art. It is as old as the phenomenon of… well, stupid people.

Some examples of Creative Ebonic Spelling?


crayon=kran or kren







Well, I think you all get the general idea. From now on, I will spell things like people in Utah say them. I realize that this could have frightening implications, but it’s probably just an empty threat. I haven’t the patience nor the time to sit and think of this every day. But feel free to share your versions of Ebonic Creative Spelling. It’ll be entertaining.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: SmokyWolf
Re: Creeaytiv what?
There are almost no people in Utah who speak Ebonics my dear. The fact is that Ebonics is actually a form of speech created in the ghettos and taught in some classrooms. Isn’t it nice that if a group of people persist in speaking poorly that in time they may be recognized no longer as people with poor grammar, but as creators of a new dialect? We here in Utah speak “Happy Valley” a combination of Southern Californian and the Southern of the Confederacy with a shortage of true four letter words. To speak and write Utahn, just get lazy and hyper at the same time. No mean feat eh?

Nickname: Chellee
Re: Creeaytiv what?
Well, I have to agree with your definition of ebonics. I don’t think it’s clear to you, dear, that I was just messing around. I don’t consider Ebonic Creative Spelling to be a dialect. The way people around here talk may be considered a dialect by some, I suppose… But when I place items under “Funny Stuff”, I’m clearly not being very serious or thoughtful…

Nickname: Dyistar
Re: Creeaytiv what?
Couldn’t help but add this one.

Naked = nekkid

Nickname: squishous
Re: Creeaytiv what?
one of my pet peaves is how people in this lovely state pronounce the days of the week.

monday = mondee
tuesday = tuesdee

it’s enough to inspire a entire new group of ‘four letter’ words. like “fetch” or “flip” or “buck”. All I have to say about that is “OI”!

Original article posted by Dyistar:

America the Great, Grand, Beautiful, Wonderful, blah blah blah. The Land where hopes and dreams come true. The Land where the little guy has a chance of making the big time. And the land where people like William Hung become overnight celebrities? Yep. America the Great, indeed.

Check it out.

It’s worth a few chuckles at least.

Original article posted by Soft_Pen:

We’re on to you, Rodney. We’re soooooo on to you. You can’t expect to fool all of us all of the time! I knew that, deep down, you hate the Fourth of July, Veteran’s Day parades and my mother’s apple pie! You are a Class 3B Commie-Devil, and there is no point in you trying to deny it! You and all of your evil friends are trying to take over this country! I’ve seen the teeny red Daihatsus that you and your Japanese confederates are driving around town, trying to make our SUV’s look bad! I’ve noticed your oh-so-subtle remarks about how “French fries were invented in France”! They were not! Do you think that you can keep pinning up your posters, “Communism is more fun than American Idol!”, with impunity? You can’t! Do you think that you can overcome the great American ideals of progress and Wal-Mart? Think again! I’ll stop you! I have a plan of action!

1- I will start an anti-Class 3B Commie-Devil campaign. Our slogan will be: “Rodney sucks!”

2- I will immediately cease all communication with people who aren’t raging fans of the Dick Van Dyke show.

3- I will no longer eat the delicious #2 Dinner Special at Kwan’s Chinese in St. George. (Well, I’m not 100% decided on that one…)

4- Finally, I will stick my fingers in my ears and hum “Yanke Doodle Dandy” every time you open your Marxist- Leninist- Zaoist- Stalinist- North Vietnam-loving mouth.


Actually, Rodney, I love ya. Just don’t let those movies get to ya. I know, it’s hard. I spent a week in a kilt, feigning a Scottish accent after I saw Braveheart. (I don’t dare tell you what I did after watching Thelma & Louise).


Folks, let’s all forgive Rodney his impetuousness, as he forgive us ours.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: -soma-
Re: What We Should Do With Rodney

Nickname: Junpei
Re: What We Should Do With Rodney
This was a joke?
Aww, man, you had me all excited and everything…


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