HOW THEY MET
This is the detailed analysis of how the members of the Sanderson Times Society came together. It all started when Otis Terry Sanderson was in aisle 8 of Price Chopper, the candy/chips aisle. With two bags of Tostitos in hand, a bag of Sea Salt And Cracked Pepper Kettle Cooked chips, and some Bold Chex Mix, Sanderson was debating snagging a can of Pringles for the ride home, but he just couldn’t pull himself to do so yet. It was still too early. So he wandered a bit further to the candy section where he was about to grab a bag of peanut butter M&M’s, when he tripped, and fell in love. A cute young girl helped him up, and scrounged up his bags of chips off the floor and handed them to him. Their eyes met, and he new what he had found. He found a true love. He found a new writer for his newspaper. He found Carrie Oakey.
She loved reading his writings, and she loved his humor. After reading many of his previously unpublished articles, she developed her own style of writing, but could only write about passionate subjects. Together they wrote a great deal of fabulous, funny articles. One day they were out for pizza, one of Carrie’s favorite foods, and while sitting in at a table, Carrie accidentally dropped a pepperoni. It all happened in slow motion. The pepperoni fell from the pizza, nicked the edge of the table, and twirled end over end on the way to the ground, when suddenly, a finger came out of nowhere, snatched the ‘roni like a salamander snatching a fly, and the finger returned with the pepperoni to the guy at the next table over, who calmly ate it. And that’s how Luther Brewster joined the team. Sanderson started chatting it up with Brewster while Oakey just sat, astonished, not so much at what she just saw, but at the size of that finger. After several dreamy thoughts ran through her mind, she finally snapped back to reality and joined the others in conversation, and Brewster became the third solid member of the staff.
A few days had passed, and the three had really begun to grow excited about this “newspaper” they were working on. Sanderson and Oakey were firing off articles, while Brewster listened, laughed, and got a feel for the project. He decided to pitch in and help out, not so much by writing his own, but by offering tips and designing a cover for the paper. After all, it is pretty hard for a guy to type when his index finger is the size of a youth baseball bat. So they wrote and discussed and laughed, and one day while walking by a local gym, a 6’2” hockey player came out with a cut off on, and accidentally knocked Carrie over. He politely excused himself, apologized, and picked up the article for her that had flown out of her hand. As he handed it back, he chuckled after catching a glimpse of it, and Oakey told him he can have it. He read it right there on the spot, continually laughing, and begged to read more. And that’s how Rufus Feldmore entered the fray.
Rufus was invited over to Sanderson’s for pizza and fingers of chicken that night. He read some articles, then read some more, and finally hopped on the computer and wrote one of his own. It was remarkable. He became the fourth member of the Society, and never looked back. He fit right in. In fact, Feldmore asked the crew to join in for a drink at the bar to celebrate his induction. Because of Oakey’s age, they decided having a drink during the afternoon would be their best bet, as Oakey was not able to get into bars. So the crew headed to Peabody ’s that Sunday afternoon to watch some football. As they were about to enter, a commotion took place at the door, and the bouncer, Coach Vern Harrison, threw out an angry and belligerent drunk customer. It was 12:52pm, just about time for kickoff, and Yashur Al Fuquer was already beyond wasted, and was banned from the bar. Being good citizens, the crew brought Yashur along with them to the Green Room to watch the game, as it was way too cold for someone to pass out outside. They plopped Yash in the corner, and ordered some pizza, some wings and some Brews to watch the game. The next thing you know, it was halftime, and Feldmore got up to order another round consisting of three Coors Lights and an apple juice, when he realized that the drunkard was no longer in the corner. They searched the bar, and didn’t have to look far. They found him all by himself dancing on the dance floor. He spent about as much time on the floor as he did on his feet, but he had a second wind. When the game started back up, then invited him to sit with them, and wouldn’t you know, that’s how that crazy Fuqer became part of the clan.
He enjoyed the articles he heard, and he wrote some of his own, and he was now a valued member of the Society. He went along with Sanderson, Brewster, and Feldmore to pick Oakey up from school one day, when they heard music coming from the next classroom over. Yashur wanted to check it out, as he had already downed a twelver and was ready to cut loose. They peered through the doorway, and the teacher was all by himself jiving his hips to Shakira. As he spun around, he noticed he was being watched, and bashfully stopped the music and went to explain himself to the on-lookers. As he approached, Yashur aggressively went at this teacher and started backing it up on him, then turned around and swiped his credit card on the poor guy. Sanderson, Feldmore, Brewster, and Oakey apologized for Yash’ misbehavior, and invited the man over for some pizza. He kindly accepted, and that’s how Mr. Stamford Branch became the sixth and final member of the Sanderson Times Society.
He read their work, he stunned them with writings of his own, and together they decided to go public. Their collaboration of wonderful literature is available online for viewing, and they even have their own clothesline. To see the works of these famed six, please visit http://sandersontimes1.blogspot.com/
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Monday, January 19, 2009
Mr. I Wear Sweatpants at the Bar Guy
Sanderson Times presents…
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy…
(Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy!)
Giving no thought to how it may appear, you walk the streets of Margaret and Clinton going from bar to bar, in an outfit more suited for a Saturday morning watching cartoons….
When you were 9 years old
(Almost time for DarkWing Duck!)
Dress shirts, Pressed Khakis, and a pair of loafers? Not for you…Instead, you settle on impressing women with the beer stains on your grey bottoms that stretch for miles…
(No ironing for me yeah!)
Dancing with no one in particular, you impress women of all shapes and sizes with your patented hip thrusts and finger points.
(He thrusts to Tiffany!)
Is that a mouse in your pants? I just can’t tell…because you have sweatpants on and there is just too much room…
(Hiding my vicious package!)
So crack open an ice cold brewski oh “Captain of the Cotton”. Because while others have to dress for the Saturday morning pickup game, all you have to do is roll out of bed…
(Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch - Boston Office
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy…
(Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy!)
Giving no thought to how it may appear, you walk the streets of Margaret and Clinton going from bar to bar, in an outfit more suited for a Saturday morning watching cartoons….
When you were 9 years old
(Almost time for DarkWing Duck!)
Dress shirts, Pressed Khakis, and a pair of loafers? Not for you…Instead, you settle on impressing women with the beer stains on your grey bottoms that stretch for miles…
(No ironing for me yeah!)
Dancing with no one in particular, you impress women of all shapes and sizes with your patented hip thrusts and finger points.
(He thrusts to Tiffany!)
Is that a mouse in your pants? I just can’t tell…because you have sweatpants on and there is just too much room…
(Hiding my vicious package!)
So crack open an ice cold brewski oh “Captain of the Cotton”. Because while others have to dress for the Saturday morning pickup game, all you have to do is roll out of bed…
(Mr. I wear sweatpants at the bar guy)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch - Boston Office
The Society, 2020
The Society, 2020
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): I was recently sitting back in my chair and thinking about all the good times we’ve had as the Sanderson Times Society. And that lead to another thought. A thought about where we will all be in a few years and what we’ll be doing. And then I just let out a slight chuckle, as I realized that our futures have already been told by our pasts.
It’s a given where Yashur Al Fuqer will be. In eleven years when any of us stumble into the Green Room, we know we’ll find Yash either at the bar slurring, or if we walk in late, we’ll find him passed out from drunkenness and tiresome from cutting.’ And if we go downtown really late, we’ll find him passed out on the curb because he’ll have already been kicked out. But no matter what time we go downtown on any day in the year 2020, we can surely count on finding the alcoholic himself slicing through the boards on the dancefloor, and then curled up in the fetal position after his body liquefies and shuts down for a few hours while he detoxifies.
As for Carrie Oakey, well, her best years are still to come. She’s so cute that I foresee her with a nice family, probably married to some hoodlum like O’nohie Diddent. I see her with three kids, whom she has pleasant nicknames for, such as pumpkin, muffin, and peanut. I see her as a woman of charm, as she is a given cutie-pie. She will appear cute on the outside, but when one rubs her the wrong way, I foresee her vocalizing her strong feelings, not holding back, and perhaps getting a few restraints. But nonetheless, I still see her busting out sick fist-pumps, no matter the place, no matter the crowd, and no matter how white she is at a Beenie Man rap concert.
I see Otis following more along the lines of Yashur’s future, spending many nights at the bar, and thrusting many-a-hip. Otis will surely need a hip replacement or two from viciously firing off hip-thrusts to “Call On Me.” He may even get a call to be in a music video. And maybe not in 2020, but at some point, I see him being the Times’ Man of the Year…maybe it’ll be Times the magazine, or maybe it’ll be the Sanderson Times, but he’s bound to receive national recognition for starting a company of this caliber.
Rufus…Oh, Rufus Feldmore. After suffering two violent divorces, I see him giving up on trying to keep it to one woman at a time, and he’ll turn back into the pimp he was/is back in his late teens, early-late twenties. Though he’ll probably have eight or nine uncounted-for illegitimate children, he will not be raising any, and he’ll stay a proud, busy bachelor for his remaining years to come. He’ll be spotted several times at huge events, such as the Golden Globe Awards, as he’ll be the date of a gorgeous, famous, lucky lady. In 2020, he’ll come in second place in the Mr. Northeast USA competition, only because he’ll have slept with the judge’s wife, and pounded his youngest daughter.
Which brings me to my next vision, Luther Brewster. He’ll be that guy who creeps around the playground, pretending he’s working on his golf swing. He’ll occasionally hit a ball, only to “have to” get closer to the monkey bars for a better look. But he’ll also have his fantasy life, in which he’ll be madly wed to T-bitty, and they’ll have a sick relationship. Let’s relate Brewster to Pinnochio, and T-bitty to Gepedo, and when Brewster lies, his right pointer/index finger grows. So T-bitty keeps asking ridiculous questions so that Brewster is forced to lie, in which the pleasure grows uncontrollably great from yards away. He’ll have his name in the Guinness Book of World Records…for longest index finger.
And then there’s Stamford Branch. By the year 2020, I’m sorry, but you’ll have been in your 90’s. But we’ll always remember you. That’s a joke. Well, not the we’ll always remember you part, cuz we would, but that you’ll be in your 90’s. Although leading the team in age, he’ll be tied with Sanderson for hip replacements. Branch will be featured in a techno remake of Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie” video, in which he’ll break out his Dino Dance, which will be the fad of the 20’s. He’ll have retired as a creepy school teacher, and will take up a part time job of sealing envelopes. He will have several slogans out there which will be used in commercials and pep-rallies. An example: There will be a Boston family with a very strong accent having a nice picnic. The father will say, “Mahk (Mark), did you grab the sandwiches out of the cah (car)?” And the wife will sort through the picnic basket, grab one and say, “Here you go Hunny.” Mark will turn to his father and loudly belch, “Well I muuuuuuuuuustaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!!!”
And although we’ll all have gone our individual ways, all paths will connect. For once one is inducted into the Sanderson Times Society, he/she remains connected to the fellow members by monthly meetings. Even Diddent is still invited. Yeah, she’ll have to be our little b*tch, and if Otis wants a Brew you better believe Diddent will get Otis a Brew, but she’ll still be invited. Because we’re a Society. We all have our place in this society, and in 2020, things won’t have changed. Yashur will surely be the alcoholic he is today, Oakey will still be cute, Sanderson and Branch will have thrusting hips and honest hips, respectively, Feldmore will be a pimp, and Brewster will have a really long index finger. Why? Because that’s the way we mustah.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): I was recently sitting back in my chair and thinking about all the good times we’ve had as the Sanderson Times Society. And that lead to another thought. A thought about where we will all be in a few years and what we’ll be doing. And then I just let out a slight chuckle, as I realized that our futures have already been told by our pasts.
It’s a given where Yashur Al Fuqer will be. In eleven years when any of us stumble into the Green Room, we know we’ll find Yash either at the bar slurring, or if we walk in late, we’ll find him passed out from drunkenness and tiresome from cutting.’ And if we go downtown really late, we’ll find him passed out on the curb because he’ll have already been kicked out. But no matter what time we go downtown on any day in the year 2020, we can surely count on finding the alcoholic himself slicing through the boards on the dancefloor, and then curled up in the fetal position after his body liquefies and shuts down for a few hours while he detoxifies.
As for Carrie Oakey, well, her best years are still to come. She’s so cute that I foresee her with a nice family, probably married to some hoodlum like O’nohie Diddent. I see her with three kids, whom she has pleasant nicknames for, such as pumpkin, muffin, and peanut. I see her as a woman of charm, as she is a given cutie-pie. She will appear cute on the outside, but when one rubs her the wrong way, I foresee her vocalizing her strong feelings, not holding back, and perhaps getting a few restraints. But nonetheless, I still see her busting out sick fist-pumps, no matter the place, no matter the crowd, and no matter how white she is at a Beenie Man rap concert.
I see Otis following more along the lines of Yashur’s future, spending many nights at the bar, and thrusting many-a-hip. Otis will surely need a hip replacement or two from viciously firing off hip-thrusts to “Call On Me.” He may even get a call to be in a music video. And maybe not in 2020, but at some point, I see him being the Times’ Man of the Year…maybe it’ll be Times the magazine, or maybe it’ll be the Sanderson Times, but he’s bound to receive national recognition for starting a company of this caliber.
Rufus…Oh, Rufus Feldmore. After suffering two violent divorces, I see him giving up on trying to keep it to one woman at a time, and he’ll turn back into the pimp he was/is back in his late teens, early-late twenties. Though he’ll probably have eight or nine uncounted-for illegitimate children, he will not be raising any, and he’ll stay a proud, busy bachelor for his remaining years to come. He’ll be spotted several times at huge events, such as the Golden Globe Awards, as he’ll be the date of a gorgeous, famous, lucky lady. In 2020, he’ll come in second place in the Mr. Northeast USA competition, only because he’ll have slept with the judge’s wife, and pounded his youngest daughter.
Which brings me to my next vision, Luther Brewster. He’ll be that guy who creeps around the playground, pretending he’s working on his golf swing. He’ll occasionally hit a ball, only to “have to” get closer to the monkey bars for a better look. But he’ll also have his fantasy life, in which he’ll be madly wed to T-bitty, and they’ll have a sick relationship. Let’s relate Brewster to Pinnochio, and T-bitty to Gepedo, and when Brewster lies, his right pointer/index finger grows. So T-bitty keeps asking ridiculous questions so that Brewster is forced to lie, in which the pleasure grows uncontrollably great from yards away. He’ll have his name in the Guinness Book of World Records…for longest index finger.
And then there’s Stamford Branch. By the year 2020, I’m sorry, but you’ll have been in your 90’s. But we’ll always remember you. That’s a joke. Well, not the we’ll always remember you part, cuz we would, but that you’ll be in your 90’s. Although leading the team in age, he’ll be tied with Sanderson for hip replacements. Branch will be featured in a techno remake of Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie” video, in which he’ll break out his Dino Dance, which will be the fad of the 20’s. He’ll have retired as a creepy school teacher, and will take up a part time job of sealing envelopes. He will have several slogans out there which will be used in commercials and pep-rallies. An example: There will be a Boston family with a very strong accent having a nice picnic. The father will say, “Mahk (Mark), did you grab the sandwiches out of the cah (car)?” And the wife will sort through the picnic basket, grab one and say, “Here you go Hunny.” Mark will turn to his father and loudly belch, “Well I muuuuuuuuuustaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!!!”
And although we’ll all have gone our individual ways, all paths will connect. For once one is inducted into the Sanderson Times Society, he/she remains connected to the fellow members by monthly meetings. Even Diddent is still invited. Yeah, she’ll have to be our little b*tch, and if Otis wants a Brew you better believe Diddent will get Otis a Brew, but she’ll still be invited. Because we’re a Society. We all have our place in this society, and in 2020, things won’t have changed. Yashur will surely be the alcoholic he is today, Oakey will still be cute, Sanderson and Branch will have thrusting hips and honest hips, respectively, Feldmore will be a pimp, and Brewster will have a really long index finger. Why? Because that’s the way we mustah.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Sanderson Times presents…
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man…
(Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man!)
Giving all you can to revolutionizing the art of “cutting rug”, you define logic, reason, and at times gravity with your sophisticated moves on the parquet.
(Was that the electric shuffle?)
No floor is safe from your gyrations, swinging hips, or bumpin turd cutter…That is every floor except the one you will ineveitably pass out on from excess drinking later on this morning…
(He’s such a boozehound!)
Agressively pursuing ladies with a drink in one hand and wait…a drink in the other hand, you shout out lines to 90’s dance hits that the underage girls that snuck into Maggie’s either do not remember or never even heard of…
(Play Miley Cyrus!)
Green Room, Peabodies, even the parked car in front of the YMCA on the walk home; the world is your dance floor, and the beat is the sound of you falling on your face, drunker than the night before…
(Where is my apartment?!?!)
So crack open an ice cold brew oh “Royalty of the Rug”. Because without a good tune, you just seem to lose that love and feeling…
(Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
Real Men of Genius…
Today we salute you…Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man…
(Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man!)
Giving all you can to revolutionizing the art of “cutting rug”, you define logic, reason, and at times gravity with your sophisticated moves on the parquet.
(Was that the electric shuffle?)
No floor is safe from your gyrations, swinging hips, or bumpin turd cutter…That is every floor except the one you will ineveitably pass out on from excess drinking later on this morning…
(He’s such a boozehound!)
Agressively pursuing ladies with a drink in one hand and wait…a drink in the other hand, you shout out lines to 90’s dance hits that the underage girls that snuck into Maggie’s either do not remember or never even heard of…
(Play Miley Cyrus!)
Green Room, Peabodies, even the parked car in front of the YMCA on the walk home; the world is your dance floor, and the beat is the sound of you falling on your face, drunker than the night before…
(Where is my apartment?!?!)
So crack open an ice cold brew oh “Royalty of the Rug”. Because without a good tune, you just seem to lose that love and feeling…
(Mr. Owning the Dance Floor Man!)
Sanderson Times Inc. Boston, Massachusetts
Once you POP, you can't STOP!
Stamford Branch
"Eye" Will Survive
“Eye Will Survive”
(sung to the song “I Will Survive”)
First Randy bet,
Then he doubled down.
Kept thinking why gamble when there’s boozing all around.
But then he spent so many nights playing crazy games of poker.
And he grew broke, But that’s just being a man named Lozier!
And now he’s back.
Yellin at that rack!
But don’t be confused, if you thought it,
was you he was going to attack.
You see this man has many talents,
He’ll tell you that all on his own.
But his biggest claim to fame,
is an “EYE” that stands alone.
Go on now look!
Don’t be afraid!
Cuz whether you’re here or there,
Randy can see you any way!
You see this eye can keep two chicks at bay,
while booking cruises by the day.
And while Randy could be feeling low,
His eye just has that certain glow!
Oh no not that EYE!
EYE will survive
Oh as long as it knows how to stare
it will keep us coming by…
It’s got all its looks to give
and it’s locking on both Matt and Mikey Rivs
And that “EYE” just will surviveThat “EYE” will survive
Hey! Hey!
(INSTRUMENTAL)
It took all of Lozier’s strength,
to ignore the crowd.
You know, he can see with the same right eye
the people all around.
And he’s spent oh so many nights
on the courts of the C.V.A.C.
But it’s that scary double vision,
that makes him best in the North Country!
And of course you'll see him out
eating tons of food…
Cuz Randy eats at chain link restauraunts
and to waitresses acts rude
And when he feels all kinds of angry
At Yashur and Stamford “B”
His venom comes out raging
in the form of touching the button on Luther’s belly!
Go on now! GO!
Walk out the door
Cuz the story of Randy Lozier
Cannot be told here anymore
He’s the one who tried to use a credit card
Did you think he’d charge it?
What would you expect him next to buy?
Who knows?
Not me, with that great big beautiful EYE!
Oh no not that EYE!
EYE will survive
Oh as long as it knows how to stare
it will keep us coming by…
It’s got all its looks to give
and it’s locking on both Matt and Mikey Rivs
And that “EYE” just will survive
That “EYE” will survive
Hey! Hey!
Once you POP, you can't stop!
Submitted by Aspiring song-writer and American Idol Fan
Stamford Branch - Boston Office
(sung to the song “I Will Survive”)
First Randy bet,
Then he doubled down.
Kept thinking why gamble when there’s boozing all around.
But then he spent so many nights playing crazy games of poker.
And he grew broke, But that’s just being a man named Lozier!
And now he’s back.
Yellin at that rack!
But don’t be confused, if you thought it,
was you he was going to attack.
You see this man has many talents,
He’ll tell you that all on his own.
But his biggest claim to fame,
is an “EYE” that stands alone.
Go on now look!
Don’t be afraid!
Cuz whether you’re here or there,
Randy can see you any way!
You see this eye can keep two chicks at bay,
while booking cruises by the day.
And while Randy could be feeling low,
His eye just has that certain glow!
Oh no not that EYE!
EYE will survive
Oh as long as it knows how to stare
it will keep us coming by…
It’s got all its looks to give
and it’s locking on both Matt and Mikey Rivs
And that “EYE” just will surviveThat “EYE” will survive
Hey! Hey!
(INSTRUMENTAL)
It took all of Lozier’s strength,
to ignore the crowd.
You know, he can see with the same right eye
the people all around.
And he’s spent oh so many nights
on the courts of the C.V.A.C.
But it’s that scary double vision,
that makes him best in the North Country!
And of course you'll see him out
eating tons of food…
Cuz Randy eats at chain link restauraunts
and to waitresses acts rude
And when he feels all kinds of angry
At Yashur and Stamford “B”
His venom comes out raging
in the form of touching the button on Luther’s belly!
Go on now! GO!
Walk out the door
Cuz the story of Randy Lozier
Cannot be told here anymore
He’s the one who tried to use a credit card
Did you think he’d charge it?
What would you expect him next to buy?
Who knows?
Not me, with that great big beautiful EYE!
Oh no not that EYE!
EYE will survive
Oh as long as it knows how to stare
it will keep us coming by…
It’s got all its looks to give
and it’s locking on both Matt and Mikey Rivs
And that “EYE” just will survive
That “EYE” will survive
Hey! Hey!
Once you POP, you can't stop!
Submitted by Aspiring song-writer and American Idol Fan
Stamford Branch - Boston Office
2014
2014: AN UNPREDICTED FUTURE
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): It’s June 18, 2014, and nobody is what they were five years ago. Everyone must have taken a different path down the road, which led in a completely opposite direction of the path that had been previously chosen. It reminds me of that Seinfeld where Elaine meets new friends, and they’re the complete antithesis of Jerry, George, and Kramer…and even Newman.
Well to start, Yashur Al Fuqer has now been sober for eleven months. Nobody saw that coming. The other day I called him to see if he wanted to go to the new and improved Legends to watch the Yankees play the Royals and get some wings or pizza. The waitress asked if we wanted to start with drinks, so I got a nice cold Coors Light, and Yash ordered a V8, which really struck me funny. I figured he had a flask in his back pocket and was going to throw some Vodka in there or something, but no, he sat there quietly and drank his V8 through his straw. It was not the Yashur I remember from five years ago.
After the game I drove by the Bailey Avenue playground to see if I could find Luther, but he wasn’t there. I called him, and asked what he was up to. He said he was at Fenway Park watching the Sox play. I guess “Tonya,” who lives in Boston , really had a major effect on him. Just to check, I asked if he was rooting against them, but he said no, he was even wearing an old school Ortiz jersey. That didn’t sound like Luther, so I asked him to send me a pic of himself pointing up, giving the #1 sign. He did just that, but again, it wasn’t what I was expecting. His little fore-finger looked like a stub compared to what it used to. Boy, how the times have changed.
So the next day I called Stamford Branch to hang out. We decided to meet up at the local high school girls’ soccer game. He had with him a can of Stax, and a wife beater on. Under that beater were Feldmore-type pecks, smooth and shiny like glass. There wasn’t a single hair busting out of that top. I asked him what he’s been up to and he said he’s taking square-dancing classes. He said that he had his chest hair removed permanently by laser because he’s a swimmer now, and he’s dating the lifeguard. It struck me a bit funny because Stam was the one who used to work at the Y and was in charge of the events, and now he’s the participant. The lifeguard, whom we’ll call “Olive,” has changed him into a romantic, as they slow dance and share a glass of wine every night. The old Stamford would be drinking awful Appleton Rum and violently thrusting his hips.
After we parted ways, I saw Rufus Feldmore sitting down outside the gym, eating an ice cream cone. I stopped and talked with him. He said his wife was inside running on the treadmill and lifting weights. He said he wasn’t into that anymore, and just sat pleasantly outside waiting for her. I asked him how married life was going, and he said it was perfect…just what he always wanted. Just to clear things up, I asked him if he had any sweet pick up lines. He didn’t, as he thinks they’re childish and would be ashamed if I actually wanted to hear one. He said he’s been married for three years, and he treats her very well, as she does him, and they’re both highly against politics. And to top it off, his wife hates milk. Is this the SAME Rufus Feldmore I used to know?
Well anyway, we said our “byes,” and I stopped by Dominoes on my way home. As I left, I saw Carrie Oakey across the street at Subway. I ran over to say hi, and how I would expect to find her at Dominoes or Pizza Hut, but she informed me that she gave up pizza last year, and eats strictly healthy now…no more chicken fingers, no more Wendy’s, and no more pizza. And despite that, Carrie used to be a little cutie! Now she’s all goth, died her hair black, and has a ring through the center of her nose. However, she’s extremely kind, even to people who make her mad like that guy who slammed the door in her face as we walked in. She just said to me, “Wow, he must be having a bad day.” The Carrie that I used to know would have flipped out and spoke her mind, but this new Carrie is so different. I don’t like it.
In fact, I don’t like any of it. I want Yash to be an alcoholic again. I want Luther to like the Yankees and have his big finger back. I want Stamford to switch back from Stax to Pringles, and to shake his hips to Shakira, and go to back to sh!tty Rum. I want him to become the teacher he used to be. And Rufus. I wish he was jacked again, and still played hockey and worked out and ate healthy. I don’t want him to sit and eat ice cream while his wife works out. And WIFE?!?!?!? WTF? He used to get five or six girls a weekend, and now he’s stuck to one? I hate it. She doesn’t even drink ephing milk. And I want Carrie to be cute again. I want her to enjoy pizza and chicken fingers, and eat at Wendy’s at least once a week. I want her to say sly, sarcastic remarks when someone walks all over her.
As for me. I’m sick of dressing up. I hate ties, and more importantly, I hate pleated pants. I want my sweatpants back. And why is there a stupid song called “Call On You?” I want “Call On Me” back so I can fly in the wind. And most of all, I want to be able to eat candy necklaces again. Why can’t we all just go back to our old ways.
People always say to treasure your time while you can, but no one really listens. Well whoever is reading this, listen up. The future may be great, but that’s a gamble. Enjoy your time now with your friends as they are, cuz in five year, who knows, they could become boring losers like mine did.
I wish it was 2009 again.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Plattsburgh , NY (AP): It’s June 18, 2014, and nobody is what they were five years ago. Everyone must have taken a different path down the road, which led in a completely opposite direction of the path that had been previously chosen. It reminds me of that Seinfeld where Elaine meets new friends, and they’re the complete antithesis of Jerry, George, and Kramer…and even Newman.
Well to start, Yashur Al Fuqer has now been sober for eleven months. Nobody saw that coming. The other day I called him to see if he wanted to go to the new and improved Legends to watch the Yankees play the Royals and get some wings or pizza. The waitress asked if we wanted to start with drinks, so I got a nice cold Coors Light, and Yash ordered a V8, which really struck me funny. I figured he had a flask in his back pocket and was going to throw some Vodka in there or something, but no, he sat there quietly and drank his V8 through his straw. It was not the Yashur I remember from five years ago.
After the game I drove by the Bailey Avenue playground to see if I could find Luther, but he wasn’t there. I called him, and asked what he was up to. He said he was at Fenway Park watching the Sox play. I guess “Tonya,” who lives in Boston , really had a major effect on him. Just to check, I asked if he was rooting against them, but he said no, he was even wearing an old school Ortiz jersey. That didn’t sound like Luther, so I asked him to send me a pic of himself pointing up, giving the #1 sign. He did just that, but again, it wasn’t what I was expecting. His little fore-finger looked like a stub compared to what it used to. Boy, how the times have changed.
So the next day I called Stamford Branch to hang out. We decided to meet up at the local high school girls’ soccer game. He had with him a can of Stax, and a wife beater on. Under that beater were Feldmore-type pecks, smooth and shiny like glass. There wasn’t a single hair busting out of that top. I asked him what he’s been up to and he said he’s taking square-dancing classes. He said that he had his chest hair removed permanently by laser because he’s a swimmer now, and he’s dating the lifeguard. It struck me a bit funny because Stam was the one who used to work at the Y and was in charge of the events, and now he’s the participant. The lifeguard, whom we’ll call “Olive,” has changed him into a romantic, as they slow dance and share a glass of wine every night. The old Stamford would be drinking awful Appleton Rum and violently thrusting his hips.
After we parted ways, I saw Rufus Feldmore sitting down outside the gym, eating an ice cream cone. I stopped and talked with him. He said his wife was inside running on the treadmill and lifting weights. He said he wasn’t into that anymore, and just sat pleasantly outside waiting for her. I asked him how married life was going, and he said it was perfect…just what he always wanted. Just to clear things up, I asked him if he had any sweet pick up lines. He didn’t, as he thinks they’re childish and would be ashamed if I actually wanted to hear one. He said he’s been married for three years, and he treats her very well, as she does him, and they’re both highly against politics. And to top it off, his wife hates milk. Is this the SAME Rufus Feldmore I used to know?
Well anyway, we said our “byes,” and I stopped by Dominoes on my way home. As I left, I saw Carrie Oakey across the street at Subway. I ran over to say hi, and how I would expect to find her at Dominoes or Pizza Hut, but she informed me that she gave up pizza last year, and eats strictly healthy now…no more chicken fingers, no more Wendy’s, and no more pizza. And despite that, Carrie used to be a little cutie! Now she’s all goth, died her hair black, and has a ring through the center of her nose. However, she’s extremely kind, even to people who make her mad like that guy who slammed the door in her face as we walked in. She just said to me, “Wow, he must be having a bad day.” The Carrie that I used to know would have flipped out and spoke her mind, but this new Carrie is so different. I don’t like it.
In fact, I don’t like any of it. I want Yash to be an alcoholic again. I want Luther to like the Yankees and have his big finger back. I want Stamford to switch back from Stax to Pringles, and to shake his hips to Shakira, and go to back to sh!tty Rum. I want him to become the teacher he used to be. And Rufus. I wish he was jacked again, and still played hockey and worked out and ate healthy. I don’t want him to sit and eat ice cream while his wife works out. And WIFE?!?!?!? WTF? He used to get five or six girls a weekend, and now he’s stuck to one? I hate it. She doesn’t even drink ephing milk. And I want Carrie to be cute again. I want her to enjoy pizza and chicken fingers, and eat at Wendy’s at least once a week. I want her to say sly, sarcastic remarks when someone walks all over her.
As for me. I’m sick of dressing up. I hate ties, and more importantly, I hate pleated pants. I want my sweatpants back. And why is there a stupid song called “Call On You?” I want “Call On Me” back so I can fly in the wind. And most of all, I want to be able to eat candy necklaces again. Why can’t we all just go back to our old ways.
People always say to treasure your time while you can, but no one really listens. Well whoever is reading this, listen up. The future may be great, but that’s a gamble. Enjoy your time now with your friends as they are, cuz in five year, who knows, they could become boring losers like mine did.
I wish it was 2009 again.
Chief Staff Writer, Otis Terry Sanderson
CEO
Spinoffs
"The Sanderson Spotlight"
Spin offs. What would MTV and VH1 be without them? Nothing. They take Laguna Beach and you get the Hills; from the Hills you get the City and Bromance. Bromance, I've never seen such a horrid piece of trash since that time I hooked up with Barb Maille during my "experimental" years in college. Hey, those liberal art schools get crazy!
On VH1 you get Flavor of Love, into I Love New York, into now a Real Chance At Love which features two gang-busting thugs (who probably can't spell "gang" or "busting" or "thug" or even "MTV") and girls pretending that they actually are interested in these shallow wanna-be street runners. Truth be told, they couldn't survive 5 minutes in Compton because they're too naive and would probably get jacked up on the St. Peter's playground by the likes of Peter Alban or Joel Siskavich.
Although these spin off television shows get irritating quick, they all serve the same purpose as Courtney Pecore on the corner late at night: They're money grabbing hoes.
Due to the recent downturn on the economic status of our country, the Sanderson Times had to resort to some advertising paid for by other companies and trying to create ideas to make an influx of cash into the company. Our "genius" CEO, Otis T. Sanderson, thought of a spin off of American Idol. As you can tell, I tend to hate such contrived and vapid ideas as it would take the IQ of a baby orangatang to create such a moronic thought. However, with the country slowly being flushed down the toilet quicker than George Bush's reputation during Hurricane Katrina, we had to do something. We agreed on creating The Sanderson Spotlight.
We took a certain number of applicants who thought they were talented musicians and singers. We took them before the judges who were comprised of myself (as Simon due to the bitter disdain for most uninteresting and untalented people), Stamford Branch (as Kara for always looking for the best in people and being nice), Yashur Al Faqur (as Pauala for always being so out of it with drugs and drinks that half the time you have no idea what they're talking about or listening to), and Luther Brewster (as Randy for pointing a gigantic finger yelling "YOU'RE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD DOG!" and "THAT WAS SO HOT, BLAZING SIZZLING HOT DAWG!"), while Rufus Feldmore took the Ryan Seacrest role and Otis was the CEO and creator.
We were all a little hesitant at first, we didn't know what the turn out would be and how will it would go over. On the first day, we showed up with thousands of fans waiting outside, all waiting for their chance. This was inspiring, and a very positive moment for our company. I say "moment" because as soon as the first applicant came in our hopes were crushed worse than a Cheeto stepped on by Jordan Maille. It was awful, putrid, a pathetic attempt at life. I'm pretty sure a few of the people went home to take their own lives due to the lashing we gave them, except for Stamford Branch who always seemed to enjoy each singer praising them telling them how good of a person they are. Really? I don't care if they're nice. This isn't a nice competition. This is a singing show. If they can't sing, I could care less than a priest getting a knob-job in the "confessional." Seriously, you must have enormous stones to fornicate not only in a Church, but in a confessional.
However, our show was cancelled after only two recordings for several reasons. First off, Rufus Feldmore kept hitting on all of the girls. He ended up hooking up with a lady while her 18 year old daughter was singing for the judges, and when the girl was rejected and came out crying, Rufus comforted her, then hooked up with her also. Finally, one of the mother's complained to Otis, who he frankly told to "eph" off and asked the obvious question of, "Why do we think we hired him? For his charming personality? No, because he's gorgeous."
Also, myself, Carrie Oakey, was disciplined by Otis time and time again because apparantley I am "too rough" on the contestants. Rough he says? Rough is getting @$$ Ephed then having to ride your bike home.
Another reason our show was cancelled so quickly had to do with Yash's awful vices. He has more drinks in a day than Chris Farley had nose bleeds. Constantly we had to tell him that he couldn't drink in front of the contestants, and that he couldn't belch while their audition was taking place. And when he got bored, he decided it was acceptable to "back it up" on contestants, even the nice 16 year old girl who was singing "God Bless America" he got up and bent over right in front of her. She exited the room crying. Strange story, is that this is the same girl Rufus "comforted" after she got outside.
Lastly, we had to cancel the show because we lost even more money due to Luther's large extremity. When we finally had a good singer, he became WAY too jovious and yelled and jumped up and said, "YOU'RE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD DAWG" and when he pointed, he poked the poor guy right in the eye. He ended up suing the company, gaining a ton of money, and using it all to go on vacations and gamble. Luther's damn finger cost us more money than Otis has spent on sweatpants and cutoffs.
When I went to interview the contestant who was poked in the eye, Randy Lozier, it now made sense to me why he could never look me straight in the eye. But he sure was excited for his upcoming 4 vacations that he supports himself with on only reffing....we now know where the funds came from. Thanks Luther, thanks a lot.
My Heart Will Go On,
Carrie Oakey
Spin offs. What would MTV and VH1 be without them? Nothing. They take Laguna Beach and you get the Hills; from the Hills you get the City and Bromance. Bromance, I've never seen such a horrid piece of trash since that time I hooked up with Barb Maille during my "experimental" years in college. Hey, those liberal art schools get crazy!
On VH1 you get Flavor of Love, into I Love New York, into now a Real Chance At Love which features two gang-busting thugs (who probably can't spell "gang" or "busting" or "thug" or even "MTV") and girls pretending that they actually are interested in these shallow wanna-be street runners. Truth be told, they couldn't survive 5 minutes in Compton because they're too naive and would probably get jacked up on the St. Peter's playground by the likes of Peter Alban or Joel Siskavich.
Although these spin off television shows get irritating quick, they all serve the same purpose as Courtney Pecore on the corner late at night: They're money grabbing hoes.
Due to the recent downturn on the economic status of our country, the Sanderson Times had to resort to some advertising paid for by other companies and trying to create ideas to make an influx of cash into the company. Our "genius" CEO, Otis T. Sanderson, thought of a spin off of American Idol. As you can tell, I tend to hate such contrived and vapid ideas as it would take the IQ of a baby orangatang to create such a moronic thought. However, with the country slowly being flushed down the toilet quicker than George Bush's reputation during Hurricane Katrina, we had to do something. We agreed on creating The Sanderson Spotlight.
We took a certain number of applicants who thought they were talented musicians and singers. We took them before the judges who were comprised of myself (as Simon due to the bitter disdain for most uninteresting and untalented people), Stamford Branch (as Kara for always looking for the best in people and being nice), Yashur Al Faqur (as Pauala for always being so out of it with drugs and drinks that half the time you have no idea what they're talking about or listening to), and Luther Brewster (as Randy for pointing a gigantic finger yelling "YOU'RE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD DOG!" and "THAT WAS SO HOT, BLAZING SIZZLING HOT DAWG!"), while Rufus Feldmore took the Ryan Seacrest role and Otis was the CEO and creator.
We were all a little hesitant at first, we didn't know what the turn out would be and how will it would go over. On the first day, we showed up with thousands of fans waiting outside, all waiting for their chance. This was inspiring, and a very positive moment for our company. I say "moment" because as soon as the first applicant came in our hopes were crushed worse than a Cheeto stepped on by Jordan Maille. It was awful, putrid, a pathetic attempt at life. I'm pretty sure a few of the people went home to take their own lives due to the lashing we gave them, except for Stamford Branch who always seemed to enjoy each singer praising them telling them how good of a person they are. Really? I don't care if they're nice. This isn't a nice competition. This is a singing show. If they can't sing, I could care less than a priest getting a knob-job in the "confessional." Seriously, you must have enormous stones to fornicate not only in a Church, but in a confessional.
However, our show was cancelled after only two recordings for several reasons. First off, Rufus Feldmore kept hitting on all of the girls. He ended up hooking up with a lady while her 18 year old daughter was singing for the judges, and when the girl was rejected and came out crying, Rufus comforted her, then hooked up with her also. Finally, one of the mother's complained to Otis, who he frankly told to "eph" off and asked the obvious question of, "Why do we think we hired him? For his charming personality? No, because he's gorgeous."
Also, myself, Carrie Oakey, was disciplined by Otis time and time again because apparantley I am "too rough" on the contestants. Rough he says? Rough is getting @$$ Ephed then having to ride your bike home.
Another reason our show was cancelled so quickly had to do with Yash's awful vices. He has more drinks in a day than Chris Farley had nose bleeds. Constantly we had to tell him that he couldn't drink in front of the contestants, and that he couldn't belch while their audition was taking place. And when he got bored, he decided it was acceptable to "back it up" on contestants, even the nice 16 year old girl who was singing "God Bless America" he got up and bent over right in front of her. She exited the room crying. Strange story, is that this is the same girl Rufus "comforted" after she got outside.
Lastly, we had to cancel the show because we lost even more money due to Luther's large extremity. When we finally had a good singer, he became WAY too jovious and yelled and jumped up and said, "YOU'RE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD DAWG" and when he pointed, he poked the poor guy right in the eye. He ended up suing the company, gaining a ton of money, and using it all to go on vacations and gamble. Luther's damn finger cost us more money than Otis has spent on sweatpants and cutoffs.
When I went to interview the contestant who was poked in the eye, Randy Lozier, it now made sense to me why he could never look me straight in the eye. But he sure was excited for his upcoming 4 vacations that he supports himself with on only reffing....we now know where the funds came from. Thanks Luther, thanks a lot.
My Heart Will Go On,
Carrie Oakey
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